#the horni spirits possessed me

[kotofeden]

It's not even a King and a Jester, it's King and his babygirl

[kotofeden]

The return of King and his babygirl

[occamstfs]

Green Eyes of Envy

Adam finds a necklace that promises anything his heart desires and nothing does he desire more than a body no one could deny.

Vaguely Halloweeny possession story based on a well-trodden trigger! Twink -> Jock -> Bear(ish?) IQ drain/corruption. Don't forget to vote on my Viral Transformation Story poll, only one day left! Hope you enjoy! -Occam

As soon as he sees the necklace lying on the ground Adam throws it on. So far it’s another subpar night spent going home alone from the bar, at least if he nabs a cute accessory there’ll be something gained. After throwing it on, when there’s a sudden buzzing in the back of his head that’s increasingly approximating a voice Adam chalks it up to his conscience trying to speak up about his and promptly ignores it.

Once he arrives home and takes time to stare at the medallion dangling on his thin chest however, he finds the voice may well have been something external, something supernatural. As a voice resounds in his head that is clearly not his own, “Adam is it?” Concluding he’s already fallen unconscious, hopefully indeed in his home, or that he’s had far too much to drink tonight for him to remember whatever he’s about to get into he plays along. “Whazzit to ya-” Realizing just what a goldmine position it has found itself in, the presence within the necklace prepares to strike.

From the drunken grumblings made by the young man in their short time together there is clearly insecurity to pray upon, and his new owner seems adverse to caution. The being within the necklace feels close enough to gaining a physical form, a body, it can almost taste it. It cannot slip up this close to the finish line and must act swiftly and with care, “So Adam, I take it you did not fare too well in your night on the town?” 

The drunken Adam’s small hands suddenly grasp the chain and pull slightly, moaning incoherently all the while. Feeling the tug the necklace quickly speaks up once more, “Woah woah woah my dear, do be careful! If you allow me, I can help you achieve your wildest dreams!” Eyes suddenly grow deathly serious as he hears the metallic voice speak in his head, “you cuh- anythin-?” 

Calculating faster than a human mind can, the voice seizes on the curiosity, banking that whatever the drunk asks will indeed be in his purview, “Anything.” The hitherto thoughtlessly lolling mouth curls into a smirk and his mind dances with the possibilities, “Uhhhh, genie ruleshh, ish it?” 

The medallion somehow sighs not wanting to highlight the potential, or fact rather, that it’s going to twist the man’s wish to his own end but sensing its holder’s brain seems the type to rarely make a connection deeper than surface level it concludes it should be fine. “Sure, something like that.” The chain jostles on Adam’s thin shoulders as he shrugs, “whateva- can you jussht give me the body of a fuckin’ stud?” Perfect. Mission accomplished.

Adam’s eyes flash green as the medallion does similarly, connecting them and giving whatever surely sinister being lies within the small coin carte blanche. Speaking from a deeper foothold in Adam’s mind the voice gives the perfunctory warning that any act of magic requires, “Do be wary of course, the inner bits of yourself have a nasty habit of matching the outer changes.” Though knowing that it’s now only a matter of time before it’s in control it begins to reveal it’s less than amicable side, “though given how fast you let me in it seems your deep inner tapestry hasn’t all too much to lose.”

Treating the slight as if it were the annoying buzz of an insect flying around his head, Adam quickly ignores the voice altogether and pulls out his phone to hunt for the perfect body. Lucky for the spirit Adam was already beyond horny before the necklace even graced his neck, so it is not long before his envious eyes find a man enthralling. In no time at all Adam is halfway drooling as he stares at some influencer’s massive pecs. He’s doing some skit but Adam doesn’t hear a word he says, as he stares his desire proves enough tinder for the spirit’s work to begin on his body.

Adam’s eyes simply flash green and laughter fills his mind, just as muscle begins to fill out his chest. Having always made excuses to shy away from the gym for one reason or another Adam smirks as he gropes his growing pecs. Suddenly bursting from non-existence into the by far largest muscles on his body, eclipsing his ass and thighs in a manner that should not be possible. Nipples surge larger as a few thick curls begin to smatter themselves across the burgeoning pecs. Nails scratching into the soft muscle Adam smirks as he imagines that no matter how hard he tries from here on out he could never hide these powerful pecs.

Emerald shade clearing from his eyes the aftereffects of his proud new chest are less than apparent. Rather than any grand changes to the horny drunk’s personality, the spirit simply allows the current drunken recklessness to seep in deeper. Suddenly the type to never back away from challenges even in a sober state, Adam smirks as he imagines all the heads that will turn when he gets a chance to show off his bulky new pecs. Though despite how impressive they are, they can’t be the only brawn on his body hm? Before the spirit even has a chance to seed the desire for more changes, Adam himself hungrily returns to the hunt for his own aggrandization.

Only having just faded back to his natural eye color his eyes quickly shade a darker green than even that of the medallion as Adam stares at the arms of a gymnast that pops into his feed. He clenches his jaw and reflexively flexes his arms as his weak biceps suddenly surge with the strength of someone who has spent a lifetime working towards his own betterment. He smirks as veins bulge down his biceps as his own laughter resounds even louder than that of the spirit in his own head. Forearms and triceps suddenly hold strength that hasn’t a hope to reasonably wield. 

Adam’s eyes then trail from the impressive arms towards what he always paid more attention to when the gymnast was trending, the man’s thick pits. Instantly does intense itching begin in Adam’s armpits. They burn with pleasure as a forest begins to surge outwards, growing thicker as he desires to be more than any man that pops onto his screen. The few hairs painting his chest rapidly expand in kind to compete with the dank jungles that now thrive and drip with sweat under his arms. Sitting there smirking as he tears his eyes away from his phone to delight in his new beyond hairy pits as rivers of musky sweat begin trickling down his bulging pecs and thick biceps.

Suddenly having the upper body of an Olympian, Adam’s mind grows foggy with a pride even greater than the sum of his impressive parts. Bouncing his pecs for the first time while doing a double bicep flex, Adam is filled with lust for his own form and a growing confidence that already no man could ever possibly resist him. He grunts and notices that his neck has similarly grown thicker, his voice resounding deeper as an adam’s apple bulges onto his previously smooth neck. Moaning as he takes a deep breath and enjoys his new heady musk, he feels his mind start to drift away from the pursuit of perfection and to instead just give in prematurely to hedonism as his larger hands inch towards his crotch. 

Before getting the chance the voice returns and whispers like a snake, “ahh ahh ahh Adam… We are not complete yet.” Looking down at his lower body he shakes off his horny delirium and agrees, rapidly returns to the more than mindless scrolling, thankfully easily able to hold up against the whims of his still average cock. Adam again does not have to search long before his eyes land upon men he longs to be, to have, to be with. His eyes once more glow a searing Emerald, and the medallion scarcely lights up, at the sight of two specimens that alight more jealousy than anything yet.

Memories of his anxieties and self-doubt quickly vacate as confidence imbues every inch of him, staring at the thick thighs and powerful calves of the bodybuilders he feels his power and pride grow to new heights. Immediately sending tears down the ratty old skinny jeans he wore to the bar, thighs that make it immediately clear that their owner could break a watermelon between them surge into existence. Finally regaining their top spot as the largest muscles on the body they grow larger than his pecs before being similarly outmatched by his ass growing firm and flexing larger with each hungry glance at the two men.

Legs cramping outward the spirit within Adam feels his ability to control the man almost come to a head. Adam doesn’t notice as his fingers twitch and flex beyond his control nor does he care as his toes strain in the air as his feet inch larger. Why does it matter that his chest is flexing without being told, it’s hot, Adam surely meant to do that anyway. Looking down and inspecting his new form, concern slides off his mind anyway as he sees hair begin to increase across his chest, rapidly shooting down abs that he didn’t even notice forming. 

He plays with the forest of hair beginning to shadow the whole of his torso as he feels similar stubble being to scratch against his chin. Tilting his head, his foggy mind struggles to wonder how he’s still changing without looking at men like the medallion instructed. Looking at his reflection in the mirror and seeing the impossibly alluring figure he has become however he decides to not care what the stupid thing said anyway. He must have gotten what he needs from it already.

Thoughtlessly he removes the necklace and tosses it away having decided he’s more than enough man. Only then does his bulge begin to grow beyond what he has always known it to be. There’s a sigh of relief and anticipation as he realizes he almost missed a chance to grow his cock with whatever that coin did to him. Face and chest burning red with blush he forces his hand into his crotch and smirks as he feels his thick fingers begin to tangle in his new bush. His free hand still dances across the bounty of chest hair and his new mustache scratches against his shoulder as he bathes in the new musk that resounds from his pits.

Mind clouded from his changes, having far too much to drink, and the cocktail of new hormones issuing forth from balls rapidly filling his briefs, Adam pulls out his larger cock and begins to go to town. Experiencing the new heights of pleasure that his dream body allows Adam loses himself to new ecstasy. His cock stretches to a size that rivals the forearm of a lesser man and his balls race to match the size his impressive body warrants. If it weren’t for his hand slowing down its thrusts it’s likely that Adam would never notice what was to happen to him next.

His face moves in unfamiliar patterns as something besides him stretches it to understand how to control it. Eyes slam shut as far as they can and then reopen, and Adam suddenly realizes that he can no longer move them of his own volition, and yet he still sees. Staring out from eyes seemingly out of his control, Adam feels his mouth smirk without instruction as a voice he has barely gotten the chance to use spills out from his thicker lips, “Well well young Adam. Excellent work thus far, think I’ll take over from here though lad.” 

Adam struggles for dominance as he finds himself but a voice in his own head, watching his new fingers dance at the end of powerful arms he scarcely had time to appreciate. He feels them flex and struggles not to give in to the delight of the power and continue fighting. Feeling himself not totally lost he endeavors a hail mary and focuses all his attention to the one thing that has always been able to override his mind in the past. His balls churn and his cock bounces as even whatever clearly powerful spirit now controlling his form is unable to resist his rising lusts. The need for release that suddenly blares through every sweaty inch of his skin and the being totally not used to self-control or human weakness struggles to not give in.

The spirit grunts as it remembers its tenuous position on reality, through its own suddenly clouded mind it goes into bargaining mode, struggling to stop their body from its uncontrollable thrusting into the air, “Ohh oh fuck okay, another deal. I can’t- We can’t cum yet or grgh- Please not yet!” Adam grinds the well-trodden neural pathways of lust to a halt as he desires to hear the being out. To signal his willingness to play ball, as well as out of the hope Adam should be better at staying his hand from masturbation, it allows Adam full control once more. Adam does begin playing with his cock immediately, moreso from the ever-pressing desire to cum rather than intimidation at expelling the spirit though it works for both. 

The spirit somehow clears his throat within Adam’s head, “To level, I am in here now, for good. But we can work out an arrangement, we can share. You can fuck and frot whatever, but every so often I’ll need a chance at the wheel for my own, uhm ends. Worry not, if anything it’ll only amount to more pleasure for yourself!” Adam cups his larger balls and struggles to understand the implications of this agreement. He hasn’t the capacity to care that his intellect seems to have diminished as his body grew, in fact as clearly duller words spill out of his mouth it only turns him on more, “Uuhhh, so we’ll share my body?”

Somehow rolling eyes he doesn’t have control over, the being realizes this must be a two way street and agrees, “Of course, you just let me do my thing and we’ll get along great.” Adam scratches his beard itching thicker and shrugs, “Sure dude, whatever.” At the lightest sign of agreement the spirit seizes control, too late does he realize his haste has caused him a misstep. Whether its his limited time in the corrupted mind of Adam forcing human err unto the spirit or simply from just how unprepared the spirit is to handle the overwhelming lust in Adam’s mind, rather than sharing control the two become irrevocably one in both body and mind. Whatever sinister priorities the spirit had rapidly shift to match the hedonistic needs of Adam. Rapidly fading into the bestial desire of Adam the spirit turns up its nose as it finds itself wanting to change their now shared form, “If we’re gonna share, uh bro, need a bit more space in here eh?”

With that, Adam’s eyes cross and he struggles to not burp as he feels his powerful form begin to bloat. His beard thickens as both minds become one and mass begins to pile onto his torso as abs grow into a bulky muscle gut underneath his still impressive pecs. Scratching his ass as it too grows a jungle of hair before going back to palm his cock, both minds feel sedated as they smell his thick musk and Adam can scarcely remember any priorities besides the all-important goal of seeking his own pleasure. 

To this end the pair find themselves awash in exploring their-his body, for countless hours of making a mess of his bedroom, living room, and kitchen Adam finally remembers that there is more to the world than his small apartment. There are more holes to explore than the few in himself and far more to see than the steamy videos he can pull up on his phone. Wiping drool off his face and crusted cum off his torso, something at the back of Adam’s mind itches as he feels there was something greater he was supposed to do, something he was supposed to spread or some control he was supposed to enforce. Giving his pits a good sniff he smirks before opining that perhaps there is no greater goal than spreading his own glory far and wide.

Quite the easy enough task as it runs out as whatever the spirit did before fading into but another aspect of Adam’s lusty mind gave him the ability to attract anyone to his cause. Rather than whatever dire cause intended, with the two totally merged the only purpose of his inhumanly alluring self is to spread pleasure. As soon as he steps out of his front door he finds men throwing themselves at him in droves. Jocks, twinks, and bears alike could not possibly resist the titan as he walks down the street, always shadowed by a heavy wave of his aphrodisiac musk.

Adam’s eyes glance across and stare through every man whose hungry eyes cannot look away, whose shoulders fly back in submission, whose noses lead them to trial behind him. While many of them get the chance to enjoy time with the inhumanly alluring man, only a few get to experience the truly rapturous experience of being changed by Adam himself. Only a select few find themselves molded into something greater than that they are when they first submit to Adam’s will. Though even a few is enough to spread and as time goes on the number of musky men wandering around could certainly become a problem. Lucky for the world perhaps, whatever cause the medallion held is long forgotten and the changed men yearn for no higher purpose than pleasure. And with the enhancements gifted by Adam, that is precisely what they find.

[smileysuh]

penance

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

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

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

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 21.2k

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

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

Prologue:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank God,” you repeat respectfully. 

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

“Thank you, Father.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I wanted to thank you again-”

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

“Still, I appreciate it.”

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

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

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

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

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

You? In a room with your four hot saviors? 

Your stomach twists at the mere thought.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You stay quiet, and Jeonghan looks over at you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Everyone likes ramen,” Jeonghan insists. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’ve kind of been wondering the same thing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A proposition,” you repeat.

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

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

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

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

“Okay, sir.” You nod.

Seungcheol takes a breath. “Life is short-”

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

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

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

“Jesus Christ,” Wonwoo cusses next to you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Looks that way,” Seungcheol agrees.

“So… so how do we do this?” you ask.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes-”

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

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

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

One

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sensitive-” you whimper.

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

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

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

You can take it, he knows you can.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I am!”

“Who makes you cum this good?”

“You do, sir!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi, Wonwoo,” you grin.

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

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

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

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

“What if someone sees?”

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

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

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

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

Two

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ready for me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’re beautiful.

So, so beautiful. 

Three

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

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

“Please- Gyu, I can’t- I can’t-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s a lot of food,” Dino notes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Four

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

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

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

“Jeonghan and his church sex obsession,” Cheol sighs, watching his friend dart off.

“She might be in the garden with Hansol,” Wonwoo says thoughtfully. “It’s a nice day out, that always gets her mind off of shit.”

Adjusting the gun over his back, Wonwoo follows Jeonghan out of the parking garage, which leaves Mingyu with the unit leader.

“They’re both going to be wrong,” Seungcheol grins.

“Yeah?”

“Our little princess gets anxious when we’re gone, especially these days,” Seungcheol runs a hand through his hair. “My money is she’s waiting in one of our beds, napping to pass the time for us to come back.”

“That does sound like her,” Mingyu admits, and the two of them head to the door that will give them the easiest access to the barracks.

“Jeonghan probably could have figured it out, but you know how he gets about his church blowjobs,” Cheol grins. 

“And Wonwoo?” Mingyu asks, wondering about his friend’s motives. 

Seungcheol takes a moment before he responds. “I think he likes it when he gets to see her out in the sun.”

Before the outbreak, when Mingyu and Wonwoo had known each other through the military, Mingyu was the designated lover boy. Wonwoo’s never been the type to even look at girls, and the past few months have been a shock for everyone to see what the stoic sniper looks like when he’s falling for someone.

You and Wonwoo had been a slow burn, due to Wonwoo’s generally quiet nature, but in those first months, Wonwoo had probably spent the most time shadowing you. In that time period, Mingyu would go up to the lookout tower and spot you in the garden, Wonwoo a few feet behind, his hand always on his gun despite Hansol being the only other person with you.

When Seungcheol had broached the idea of your only job being their plaything, it had been the first time you’d ever pushed back, insisting that you liked gardening and helping with the plants. Wonwoo had been right there to back you up, and Seungcheol had begrudgingly agreed to let you keep your ‘little hobby.’

In the back corners of Mingyu’s mind, he kind of hopes you are in the garden right now. Wonwoo had almost died on their mission today- zombie jaws had come within an inch of his arm, and if anyone deserves some ‘you time’ after all of that, it’s Wonwoo.

When Seungcheol and Mingyu make it back to the barracks, Mingyu’s small hopes are dashed. The unit leader is the best at guessing moves, in card games and life, and he’d been spot on about you sleeping in someone’s bed. 

You’re in Jeonghan’s room of all places, and you sit up as the two men enter the common space, watching them set down their guns from the messy tangle of sheets. 

You hop onto your feet at the same time that Mingyu begins to run to you. When you jump into his arms, he lifts you off the floor, spinning you around and burying his face against your throat. 

Hugs are never as tight as they are after missions.

“Are you guys all okay?” you ask when Mingyu sets you down, only for Seungcheol to engulf you in an embrace of his own. 

“We’re all good,” the unit leader responds. “A little banged up, but nothing we can’t handle.”

You pull away from Seungcheol to look at his face, and Mingyu watches the way you brush your thumb across the unit leader’s cheek. “Looks like you need a shower,” you muse, having just wiped away some dirt.

“Looks like we all need a shower,” Seungcheol agreed with a groan. He tosses you over his shoulder and Mingyu grins at the sight. Out of all of them, Cheol’s the biggest man handler, but you clearly don’t mind.

One of the nicest things about their little Z1 master unit is that it comes with it’s own bathroom. The other units have small double occupancy rooms, a common area, and a common shower/toilet space. Mingyu feels bad for the other units sometimes, but rank in military means something; Seungcheol is the highest ranking person at the prison, so he gets to call the shots, and his unit reaps the rewards. 

Z1 has taken advantage of the large shower in their bathroom more times than Mingyu can count. There’s nothing like getting steamy in a room full of steam. 

Seungcheol strips you naked, turning on the shower while Mingyu takes off his clothes too. Mingyu can’t wait anymore, and he tugs your nude form against his own, kissing you stupid.

You wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, your beautiful tits pressing up against his bare chest. Mingyu’s cock is already getting hard, pushing up between your bodies. You wiggle your hips, providing stimulus that has him groaning loudly, his hands reaching down to grab your ass.

It’s all too easy for Mingyu to lift you up, your legs wrapping around his body while he carries you into the shower, your lips still locked in a desperate battle. 

Instead of putting you under the stream of water, Mingyu presses you against the wall, slowly allowing you back onto your feet. As much as he’d love to rail you right now, he knows that he’s just as dirty as Seungcheol is at the moment- which means you’ll wash his body for him. God, he loves teasing foreplay like this- the way you immediately grab at the prized bottle of body wash to lather it up in your hands. 

Mingyu watches, holding his breath as you bring your palms to his shoulders, beginning to wash his large frame.

“Dirty boy,” you muse, grinning while you rub away the dirt and grime.

“Dirty girl,” he counters, lifting his hands so he can box you in against the wall.

He sees the way your breath hitches- you like to feel small, and Mingyu loves to deliver on it. He might not be as outwardly dominant as Seungcheol or Wonwoo, but Mingyu knows that his height does something to you- the way he has to tip his head to look down and meet your eyes.

Your hands trail down to his abdomen, nails teasing his skin there while he shivers. He wishes you’d just sink to your knees and wrap your mouth around his cock-

“Turn around for me, big guy,” you grin, pulling your touch away from where he needs you most. 

With a groan, Mingyu does as he’s told, and you begin to wash his back. When you reach up to do his shoulders, he feels your bare tits press against his spine. He closes his eyes, grabbing at his cock to begin stroking himself.

“Hey,” you chastise, immediately seeing what he’s doing and wrapping an arm around his front to grab at his hand. “That’s my job.”

“He’s needy today,” Seungcheol grins, watching from just outside the shower.

“I’m needy every day,” Mingyu corrects, releasing his length only to replace his hand with your own- you’re so much smaller than him, and when he looks down, he loves the way you make his cock look massive with your tiny hand wrapped around the girth. 

You begin to stroke him, and Mingyu lets out a loud groan. 

“Does it feel good, big guy?” you ask, squeezing tighter to his back.

“Feels amazing,” he breathes, closing his eyes to enjoy you. 

“I hate to be the one to say it,” Seungchol laughs, “but water stores have been low lately. As much as I’d love to watch this, we’re supposed to be saving supply by showering together, not taking our sweet time.”

“Then come join, sir, I’m sure you need a good rub down too,” you grin.

Seungcheol takes a step forward- just as the door to the bathroom opens, Wonwoo sliding in. He takes one look at the scene in front of him, and begins stripping down.

The unit leader stops his advances, and it’s clear to Mingyu that Seungcheol knows as well as he does that if one person needs you right now, it’s Wonwoo.

“I’ll wait,” Seungcheol sighs, making room for Wonwoo to slip past him into the shower now that he’s removed his clothes. 

Wonwoo doesn’t say anything, he simply pushes Gyu to the side and grabs your face, pressing his lips to yours. Your soapy hands find Wonwoo’s toned chest, and you begin to wash him even as he kisses you, pressing you back against the wall. 

Mingyu turns to watch, rinsing the bubbles off his skin while you lather up his best friend. Then, his grip returns to his cock. Your cute little hands have always turned him on, and watching you rub Wonwoo’s shoulders, attacking the specks of dirt there like it’s your job- fuck, everything you do just makes Mingyu horny.

Wonwoo pulls you away from the wall suddenly, spinning you around so your back is now pressed to Mingyu’s chest while the three of you are submerged in water. Mingyu can’t help but lean down and begin to kiss your throat, finding your sweet spot and sucking on it while you whimper and wriggle between their bodies. 

From this vantage point, Mingyu can see your hand slip from Wonwoo’s shoulders and down his chest. You grab at the sniper’s cock, pumping it slowly while Wonwoo continues to kiss you.

The soap washes away quickly, and as soon as you’re all clean, Wonwoo pushes you and Mingyu backward, prompting you to all leave the shower. “Your turn,” Wonwoo tells Cheol as your trio passes him.

“Princess isn’t going to wash me off too?” Cheol’s tone is teasing, but Mingyu can sense the hurt there.

“Not today,” Wonwoo responds gruffy, reaching for one of the towels. He wraps it around your body first, drying you off with efficient motions.

Mingyu grabs his own towel, eager to get rid of the water on his body. He knows what comes next, and he’s not going to waste a second.

When Wonwoo is done with you, you begin to dry him, your lips still tangled together. Mingyu stifles a laugh at the vision in front of him, the way the two of you can be so focused on each other and the task at hand. 

Wonwoo breaks the kiss to look at Mingyu over your shoulder. “If you’re joining, you better go grab some lube.”

“Right-” Mingyu swallows thickly, wrapping a towel around his hips as he exits the bathroom. 

He nearly runs straight into Jeonghan, and the older man grins. “Orgy time?”

“I don’t think so,” Mingyu says, hurrying to his room to grab the bottle of lube he keeps there. “I think it’s me and Wonwoo right now.”

“Cheol must have loved that,” Jeonghan scoffs.

“You two can have her after,” Mingyu promises.

“We will,” Jeonghan laughs, following Mingyu back into the bathroom. 

Wonwoo’s already inside of you, your feet off the ground while the muscular man presses you against the wall, your legs wrapped around his hips. You’re moaning loudly, Wonwoo’s face buried in the crook of your throat. Your eyes open as Jeonghan and Mingyu enter the bathroom, and the look of lust in your expression is enough to have Mingyu throbbing.

“I’ve got the lube,” he announces. 

Keeping up with four men means you’ve gotten adept at anal. Even so, it had taken you two months before you could properly handle Mingyu’s large cock, but the pay off has been… more than fulfilling, to say the least.

Wonwoo pulls you off the wall, and Mingyu slots behind you, squirting some lube on his fingers. The sniper adjusts his hands on your ass, spreading you open for Mingyu so he can press a finger into your tight hole.

You whimper loudly, and Mingyu does his best to soothe you by speckling your shoulders with kisses. “So good for us,” he murmurs.

You’re taking his finger so well, and it prompts him to add a second, stretching you open while you cling to Wonwoo. 

“Hurry up,” the sniper groans, holding still inside of you while Mingyu preps your ass.

“I don’t want to hurt her,” Mingyu admits; none of them do.

“I can take it,” you moan. “Please, Gyu-”

“Fuck,” Mingyu breathes, slathering his cock with lube before tossing the bottle into the sink. He grabs his base, rubbing his tip through your cheeks and prodding your hole. “If you need me to stop, just say something.”

He tries his best to be gentle, slowly sinking inch after inch of his long cock into your ass. You cry out loudly, burying your face against Wonwoo’s neck. 

Mingyu doesn’t try to make you take him all in one go, he starts with four inches, thrusting shallowly into your ass. Wonwoo takes the motion as a prompt to continue fucking you too, and the men begin to manhandle you between them, a push-pull.

Behind Wonwoo, Seungcheol and Jeonghan have switched places in the shower. The unit leader is now standing half dried off, water droplets sinking down his toned chest while his hand works his own cock.

They’ve all gotten used to watching each other like this, but the knowledge that Cheol is fixated on the act has Mingyu wanting to prove himself even more. He sinks another inch of his cock into your ass, and you moan lewdly in Wonwoo’s ear, wriggling in their grasp.

“Feels good?” Mingyu asks.

“Feels amazing,” you whimper, nails digging into Wonwoo’s shoulders. “I want more.”

“More?” Mingyu laughs.

“Don’t hold back,” you tell him.

This time, when Mingyu thrusts, he allows his front to hit your ass, his cock fully buried in your tight hole.

You let out a strangled cry.

“Our little cock whore,” Cheol muses, “loves being full to the fucking brim.”

“Sir-” you whimper, your walls tightening around Mingyu.

“Fuck, I’m close-” Mingyu groans at the sensation. “Baby, you’re close too, right? Fuck, you’re squeezing us so fucking tight-”

“I’m close, I’m close-” you nod desperately.

“Gonna let us cum and fill you up the way you like-”

“Gyu, please-” you whimper, reaching behind yourself to tangle your fingers in his hair, drawing his lips to your throat.

“We’ll fill you up,” Mingyu promises.

Wonwoo’s not much of a talker in bed, especially under the watchful gaze of Jeonghan and Seungcheol. But when it’s just Wonwoo, Gyu and you, Wonwoo gets out of his shell more. Mingyu’s become an expert at listening to his older friend’s sounds, of anticipating when he’s on the brink-

The soft grunts escaping the sniper’s lips are a clear indicator that he’s as close to the edge as you and Gyu are. Mingyu knows better than anyone that the moment you cum, it’s over for them both. They don’t have the control Seungcheol does to hold off an orgasm while your walls throb around them, and they don’t have the vindictive side to edge you.

No, Wonwoo and Mingyu understand each other. What you see is what you get, and when you begin to beg, they’ll give you anything and everything you could ever ask them for.

“Please, fuck, I’m gonna cum-” you cry as they both fuck you even rougher.

“Cum for us, beautiful,” Wonwoo groans. “Cum on our cocks.”

You let out a pitchy scream, and your walls clamp down on Mingyu’s length, driving him into a frenzy as you throw him over the edge with you. His fingers dig into your hips, his cock pistoning in and out of your ass while Wonwoo matches the fevered pace. The two men moan deeply while your body milks them for all they’re worth, drawing their cum deep inside of you.

“Holy shit-” Mingyu moans. He’s not one to cry from sex like you are, not the type to get so overstimulated that tears fall, but fuck, he feels like he’s on the verge of it tonight.

His body takes over, his animalistic instincts driving him to fuck you through your high even though his muscles are screaming at him to stop. His cock is throbbing endlessly, pleasure surging along his skin hotter than any shower water ever could be.

It’s Wonwoo who stops first, pressing his lips to yours while you grab his face, moaning like their perfect little whore. Mingyu’s thrusts end shortly after, his cock buried deep in your hole, his chest pressed to your back while he kisses your neck.

The sound of the shower has stopped. Mingyu’s not sure when that happened, but when he opens his eyes to inspect what’s going on, he finds Cheol wiping his own cum off his chest.

“What about round two?” Jeonghan asks, cock in hand as he stands in the shower.

“No round two,” Wonwoo says flatly. 

“No round two?” Jeonghan looks shocked, and his gaze shifts to Seungcheol. “Is he allowed to declare that?”

“They fucked her stupid, Hannie,” Seungcheol laughs. “You should have had the brains to make yourself cum while you had a show.”

Mingyu pulls out of your ass, and the two of you groan at the loss. Grabbing some tissues, Mingyu immediately cleans up the cum leaking from your hole. When he’s done, Wonwoo heads to the door with you still embraced against his chest. Mingyu follows like a helpless puppy as the sniper takes you to his room. 

It’s evident that Wonwoo is intent on cuddling you now, and it’s clear from your expression that you’re on the verge of passing out. To make things easier on everyone, Mingyu puts his towel onto the bed, hoping to catch any more cum that’s going to drip out of your used holes.

As the three of you settle onto the bed, Wonwoo’s the one who holds you close to his chest, and Mingyu’s more than happy to be the big spoon behind you.

“You’re in a mood,” you whisper, clearly speaking to Wonwoo. Your finger traces his collarbone, and you lean forward to press a kiss to his throat. “Are you alright?”

“I’m alive,” Wonwoo says simply.

Mingyu knows it’s not his place to join this conversation. He feels lucky that he can even witness it, that the two of you feel comfortable enough being even slightly vulnerable together in front of him. 

If Wonwoo’s not going to go into details about his near zombification bite today, Mingyu’s not going to bring it up either, although the sentiment of the words ‘I’m alive’ weigh heavily on his heart.

When this whole thing had started, Mingyu thinks you were all taking each day like it was your last. But now, six months in, it’s clear you all have something important to live for.

Call it love, call it attraction, call it lust- whatever it is, it’s the glue holding you and the unit together, the thing that’s become worth fighting for.

“I’m happy you’re okay,” you tell Wonwoo, but when you place your hand over Mingyu’s, it’s clear you’re talking to them both.

Mingyu squeezes your fingers gently, a silent agreement that he’s happy you’re all living another day. 

If anything ever happened to any of you at this point in your unconventional relationship, he’s not sure he could continue going on.

Five

Joshua has been distracted his entire sermon. It’s getting hard to read the holy words while his brain is preoccupied with the most unholy of thoughts.

He’s known for a while that the Z1 unit tosses you amongst themselves. He’s heard Jeonghan fucking you more times than he can count. But he’s never witnessed any of these… indiscretions with his own eyes. 

Until now.

He’d been out for a walk in the morning, touring the prison garden with the hopes of bumping into you. What he’d stumbled upon, however, was the sight of you pressed against a wall, the Z1 sniper’s pants hung low on his hips, your legs wrapped around his body while he fucked you stupid, his hand clamped over your mouth.

Joshua had been frozen- or maybe he’d chosen to stay, although it’s hard to admit that to himself. Despite the palm over your lips, your muffled whimpers had still been music to the priest’s ears, and he can’t get the song of you out of his head.

And then you’d opened your eyes, looking directly at him.

Joshua’s voice hitches, and he mentally smacks himself, clearing his throat as he continues the passage he’s reading to the group of adoring survivors. They have no clue that the podium he’s standing behind is hiding the half-chub growing in his pants, and Joshua almost revels at the secret knowledge, the secret sin. 

If only they knew what the dirty priest thinks about when no one else was around.

The chapel door opens, and Joshua pauses to watch you slip into a seat in the very back.

You’ve never come to one of these before, and it can’t be a coincidence that today of all days, you’re here to listen to him speak.

Your presence is a distraction, but it also pushes Joshua to do better. He wants to perform for you, wants to show you how good his sermons can be.

It almost feels as if the passages end too quickly for Joshua’s liking, and with a closing statement, survivors begin to dispurse. By now, his half chub has died down, and Joshua stands in front of the church, bidding goodnight to the parishioners who come to thank him for service. 

Even as he chats briefly with people, his eyes keep finding you.

You haven’t moved from your seat, and as more bodies leave, it becomes clear that you have a motive behind being here.

Finally, it’s just the two of you left. Joshua approaches, his hands clasped in front of his body. “You came,” he notes, delighted at the double entendre to his words. 

“Yeah, I uh…” you lick your lips. “Father, I wanted to apologize-”

“We have a confession booth for that,” Joshua muses. “You’ve been here six months, I think it’s time, don’t you?”

You take a deep breath, your eyes shifting to the booths in the corner of the chapel. “Do we really have to do this there?”

“There’s no better place,” he assures you, stepping back and holding out a hand in the direction of the confessionals. “After you.”

After a moment of deliberation, you stand up, nodding as you pass the priest. As you walk in front of him, Joshua notes your body. You’re wearing a jacket and a dress, the cream colour of the skirt’s fabric almost looks virginal, except he knows better. You’re anything but a virgin.

When you get to the booth, you look at both doors. “Which one-”

“On the left, darling.”

With another tight lipped smile and a nod, you enter the confession booth.

Joshua takes a deep breath, his skin tingling with excitement. As he enters the priest’s side, his mind reels with the possibilities of what you’re about to say to him. 

Joshua revels in the knowledge that his parishioners bestow upon him. Their confessions help him figure them out, see what makes them tick. He’s long been wondering about you and your… motives for being.

You’re a math problem he can’t wait to crack, and he’s excited for you to give him a cheat sheet.

The booth is silent, and Joshua waits patiently. 

Finally, you sigh. “How do I even begin?”

“A confession generally starts when you say ‘Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.’ then you tell me how long it’s been since your last confession, and we go from there,” Joshua explains. 

He can hear you breathing, can feel the anxiety wafting off of you.

“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned,” you say. “It’s been… too many days to count since my last confession.”

There’s silence again, and it’s clear you need more guidance. “What are your sins, darling?”

“Lust,” you blurt out. “Lust is a big one… and I think… probably greed too. Do you think I’m greedy, Father?”

He definitely thinks you’re greedy. One girl being passed around by four men- it’s as greedy and lustful as he’s ever seen, but Joshua keeps that to himself. “I’d need more details about your situation in order to make an adequate assessment.”

“Well, I mean… you saw me with Wonwoo today.”

Joshua stays silent.

“I just want you to know… We didn’t think anyone would see us.”

“God sees all.”

“God I can handle, but you? It’s different that you saw it.”

“And why is that?”

“Well, because-” you pause. “It’s just different.”

Joshua considers your words. “We live in rough times,” he says finally. “Unprecedented days. It’s not unusual to seek comfort in a situation like this. I would never judge you for finding comfort in the arms of a man like Wonwoo.”

“Except… I think… I think we both know it’s not just Wonwoo I seek comfort in.”

Joshua’s heart beats loud in his chest, and excitement tingles across his skin. “Go on, darling.”

“I’m not sure I should.”

“Why are you apprehensive?” Joshua asks.

“I was asked not to discuss this with anyone, but- I mean, you saw me and Wonwoo, so I wanted to come here to apologize for that, not to get into the messy details.”

The priest immediately guesses the culprit behind your secrecy. It’s just like Choi Seungcheol to give you a boundary like this. You’re the Z1 unit’s open little secret. Anyone with eyes trained to look can see what’s going on, but the prison has a don’t ask, don’t tell policy. And no one pries into the personal lives of Choi Seungcheol or his men.

“It would feel better to confess,” Joshua tells you. “No one would have to know.”

“I’d know.”

“And it would stay between us. You can trust me.” Joshua’s a master secret keeper, and he’s eager to add yours to his long list of indiscretions carried out by desperate survivors.

“That’s the thing, Father, I’m not sure I can.”

“Have I ever given you a reason not to trust me?” Joshua asked, perplexed by you. Has he been slipping? 

No, it couldn’t be. His carefully created mask is good enough to charm and convince anyone-

“Wonwoo wasn’t happy about you stumbling across us today,” you note.

Ahh, Joshua nods to himself, Wonwoo, the sniper with the sharp eyes. Things are beginning to make sense. 

“Maybe Wonwoo should be in the confessional, not you,” Joshua muses.

“He’d never come here,” you laugh. “He wouldn’t even want me to be here right now, not alone.”

“And yet, here you are, darling. Alone.” 

“This wasn’t a good idea.”

Joshua hears you stand up. Part of him wants to find a way to manipulate you into staying, but he’s already toed the line by calling you ‘darling’ multiple times. If he does anything else, it might incur the wrath of Seungcheol. The priest still has plausible deniability on his side for the petnames, but anything further might be the tipping point.

“I’m always here,” Joshua assures you, wondering if you’ll clue into the word ‘always,’ and see the true meaning there. “You’re welcome in my confessional any time.”  

Six

Your pulse is still racing from your interaction with the priest when you make it back to the Z1 dorm. Your four lovers are playing cards, a general pastime for them when they’re not blowing your back out, and they all look up as you slip inside the room.

“Baby?” Mingyu puts his cards down, standing to address you. “Are you alright?”

“Me? Yeah- of course, why wouldn’t I be alright?” you ask.

“You look off,” Wonwoo notes, also getting to his feet, an expression of concern evident in his handsome features.

“Tell us what happened,” Seungcheol commands.

“Sir-”

“Tell us,” he insists.

“I went to the chapel,” you tell them, watching Wonwoo’s expression drop. “I uh- the priest saw me and Wonwoo today so I went to apologize-”

“The priest caught you?” Jeonghan laughs, still seated and clearly enjoying the drama unfolding in front of him. “Naughty, naughty.” 

“Shut it,” Seungcheol warns his friend, gaze shifting back to you. “Then what happened?”

You swallow thickly. “We went into the confessional and- I mean, I didn’t tell him anything, but, there was something about the vibes- the way he spoke to me-”

“How did he speak to you?” Wonwoo questions, irritation clear in his tone.

“I can’t explain it,” you sigh. “It almost felt… It almost felt like he was flirting with me- and maybe, maybe I gave him the wrong idea, I don’t know- it was weird.”

“Maybe you gave him the wrong idea,” Seungcheol repeats your words back to you. “Have you been flirting with the priest, princess?”

“I don’t think so-”

“You don’t think so,” Seungcheol scoffs. “Sounds like we all need to go have a talk with this fucking priest.”

“That’s not a good idea,” Jeonghan says, jumping to his feet and drawing all eyes. “I mean- come on, he’s a man of God, right? He probably wasn’t flirting with her-”

“Why so jumpy, Hannie?” Seungcheol turns to his friend, looking him up and down. “Is there something you’re not telling us?”

Jeonghan rolls his eyes. “Of course not.”

“Then you’ll have no problems if we go have a chat with him. All of us. Right now.” It’s clear that this isn’t a suggestion, it’s an order.

Seungcheol heads to the door, holding it open and looking at your group expectantly. Mingyu’s the first to sigh and head out. Jeonghan is next, and you can’t help but notice the slight skip to his step, as if he’s excited about what’s to come.

Wonwoo grabs your forearm, dragging you past Cheol. “Going to the chapel alone wasn’t a good idea,” he tells you. 

“I know,” you frown. “I knew that while I was there. I’m sorry.”

Seungcheol falls into step on your other side, his gaze forward, jaw set. 

“You know how I feel about that man,” Wonwoo continues. 

You nod. “You don’t trust him.”

“Can you even imagine how any of us would react if something happened to you?” Wonwoo asks, his grip tightening on your forearm.

“Joshua is a priest,” you insist. “He wouldn’t do anything-”

“He’s more capable than you give him credit for. All survivors are,” Wonwoo states harshly. “We’re still alive for a reason. Some of us had to do bad things to get where we are now, and I wouldn’t be shocked if your priest has made choices that even his own God wouldn’t like.”

You can’t respond, because you know what Wonwoo’s saying is true.

In fact, if anyone on the base is able to spot a predator, it’s probably the man holding your arm. He’s a sniper, and it’s his job to see threats and dispose of them before they become a problem. 

The five of you are silent as you make your way through the prison, heading outside to walk the short distance to the chapel. When you get there, Jeonghan pushes the door open. He’s been here so many times that he has no problem entering the sacred space, but the rest of you are a little more hesitant.

Mingyu heads inside, leaving you on the doorstep with Seungcheol and Wonwoo.

“This isn’t a good idea,” Wonwoo states.

“You’ve never doubted me before, don’t start now,” Seungcheol grins. “A talk with this priest has been long overdue, don’t you think?”

“She doesn’t have to be here for this,” the sniper looks down at you.

“Of course she has to be here for this,” Seungcheol scoffs. “I know you don’t like Joshua, but you have to trust me on this.”

Wonwoo takes a deep breath, watching Seungcheol enter the chapel. When it’s just the two of you still outside, Wonwoo cups your cheek. “Whatever happens in there, it won’t change how I feel about you. How any of us feel about you.”

“What do you think is about to happen?” you ask, confused at the ominous tone that’s been set.

Your sniper simply stares at you for a few moments, then he looks down, a muscle in his jaw feathering. “With Seungcheol in charge, you never know.”

Wonwoo kisses you then, and he’s surprisingly gentle. You kiss him back, leaning against his strong chest- the door to the chapel opens and Mingyu pokes his head out, “Are you two coming, or what?”

With a sigh, you enter the church. Jeonghan, Seungcheol and Joshua are standing by the podium in the front. They’re speaking too quietly for you to hear what they’re saying, but they all look up when you enter.

Joshua’s the first to smile. “Seungcheol has told me that you’re here for a real confession this time.”

“Hmm?” Your gaze shifts to the unit leader, and he grins.

“Go on, princess,” Seungcheol encourages. “The confession booth is all yours. We’ll be right here, for moral support.”

Wonwoo lets out an annoyed sound, but he doesn’t stop you as you stumble to follow through with Seungcheol’s command. You make your way to the confession booth, hand shaking as you pull away the long velvet curtain to step inside.

Your heart is racing wildly in your chest, but you try to be patient as you wait for the priest to enter his own side. 

When you hear Joshua sit down, you do your best to remember how this starts. “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. It’s been… an hour since my last confession.”

There’s a distinctly Jeonghan-like snicker from outside the booth, and it sets your stomach into knots. 

You’re hyper-aware of the fact that all four of your lovers are just outside the confessional, that they’re listening in- it’s making your mouth dry, your palms becoming sweaty as you rub them against your dress.

“When you last confessed, you mentioned greed and lust as your sins. Would you care to elaborate more on that?” The priest asks. “Maybe it will be easier, now that you’re amongst… friends.” 

“I’m not sure what to say,” you admit.

“In my experience, the truth is what’s important,” Joshua muses smoothly.

“I think… I think I’m here right now because I told Seungcheol about coming to you earlier. There was something- something I couldn’t quite explain about the interaction.”

“Go on.”

“It almost…” you swallow thickly. “It almost felt like you were flirting with me, Father.”

“Greed and lust are most definitely your sins,” Joshua notes. “Would you have liked it if I was flirting with you?”

Someone whispers ‘what the fuck’ from outside the confessional, and you’re pretty sure it was Wonwoo. He’s voicing your own thoughts, and you scramble for a response.

“I don’t… I don’t know,” you admit. 

“I’d like to tell you something, and I think you should consider it when looking at your sinful actions. Perhaps you can think of it as a way to release yourself from any shame you feel.” Joshua’s tone is soothing, and you hang onto what he’s about to say next. “While many men of my religion believe that God created the world and all its creatures in a matter of days, I think a lot can be learned from a Darwinian approach to life. Our closest ancestors are primates. They live in a warzone. Nothing is guaranteed but death. I’d be tempted to confess that their psychology isn’t that different from our own these days. Survivors of an apocalypse become no better than our primitive ancestors, and our behaviours are reflective of that. When certain species of female primates ovulate, and head out in search of a partner, do you know what they do?”

“Erm… no, Father.”

“The female bonobo primate will mate with as many fit males as possible. There are a number of reasons for this, but the primary one seems to be the need for protection. Not only for herself, but for future offspring. A male bonobo is less likely to throw out a baby if there’s a chance it could be his own. I would guess you’re using a contraceptive, but the psychology of a female in need of a band of male protectors in desperate times still applies. It’s animal nature, and the world we live in now has turned us all into animals. Instincts take precedence over logic. You might be greedy and lustful, but I would argue that you’ve needed to be in order to secure your survival.” 

“I…” you clear your throat, mind spinning at what he’s just suggested so eloquently. “I can’t believe you’re comparing us all to primates.”

“And how do you know so much about monkeys?” Mingyu asks loudly from outside the confessional, earning a chorus of snickers.

“If you won’t accept this comparison as… a justification of your greedy and lustful ways, then how about you try to explain it yourself?” Joshua suggests, ignoring everyone but you.

“I think… maybe I just like to be fucked,” you admit. “I think we all come at this from different backgrounds, with different motives for what we do.”

Joshua lets out an understanding sigh. “And what are your friend’s motives?”

“Mingyu likes companionship. He’s like me. He needs reassurance, needs physical touch. Jeonghan likes the fun of it all. He likes enjoying himself, likes to indulge. Wonwoo… I think it started as something just physical for him. A way to distract himself from the pressure he has on his shoulders. And Seungcheol likes to dominate. He likes to feel as if he’s won at something. I’m guessing he sees this whole thing as a punishment.”

“A punishment?” Joshua enquires. “For you?”

“For me mostly,” you nod. “He likes to humiliate me in certain ways, and I think this might be one of them. He also likes to challenge God, he’s not a believer, so I’m guessing he’s enjoying this because we’re bringing sin into a place of worship. He’s in control right now. Not you, not me, not even Wonwoo-”

“Is Wonwoo also receiving this punishment?” the priest asks.

“Of course he is. Wonwoo doesn’t like you, that’s no secret, Father.”

“What did the two of you do to deserve such a punishment?”

“I admitted that I probably flirted with you a little,” you say quietly, your skin heating at the admission. “And Wonwoo’s been taking more of my time recently, been talking back to Seungcheol in ways that Seungcheol hasn’t liked.”

“It’s quite the dynamic you’ve found yourself a part of,” Joshua muses. “An entanglement of wants, needs… indulgences. If you have such a good understanding of Seungcheol, how do you think this whole thing will play out for you?”

“I think he’d like for me to confess in deeper detail, confess my personal sins instead of talking about the others so much. I think he’d like for me to feel dirty, and when this confession is over, I’m guessing he’ll prove how dirty I am, here in this church, for all your eyes and God to see.”

“How would you feel about that?” Joshua asks.

“Humiliated… excited…” you consider the emotions running through you. “I’d feel like I’d done something to deserve it, which I have.”

“A simple thing like flirting doesn’t constitute a punishment of this magnitude. What other sins have you partaken in? If you know Seungcheol wants details, you should give us all details.”

You take a deep breath. “I’ve done practically everything a lustful greedy sinner could do to deserve this. I’ve had more orgies than I can count. I’ve had three men inside of me at once. I’ve been filled with cum over and over and over again. I’ve been insatiable, always greedy and ready to take more. I’ve been fucked to the point of passing out, only to awaken and go another round. I’ve reveled in the fact that I have four men who like watching me get fucked, who touch themselves to the view of their friends fucking me to the point where I can’t talk or walk. I’ve become a fuck toy instead of doing actual survivor work in the prison, giving into my own greedy desires instead of the good of others. I’ve had sex in all sorts of places that I never thought I’d have sex in-”

“Like this church,” Joshua interrupts you. “You’ve desecrated it before.”

“I-” your heart thunders in your chest. 

“Admit it,” the priest insists.

“Father, I-”

“You’ve been a very, very bad girl.” 

You hate that you’re getting wet from this. There’s a feeling of relief that’s come from confessing your lustful ways, and now Joshua’s deeper tone is setting you on edge. He’s degrading you, like Cheol does, but it feels more extreme coming from a man of God- from a priest who clearly knows you’ve been fucked in his place of worship.

“What’s the correct penance for a naughty whore like her?” Seungcheol’s voice makes your skin tingle. He opens the confessional fabric screen, staring down at you. His thumbs are hooked in his belt, and the way the light hits him from behind makes him look shockingly angelic and demonic at the same time. It illuminates his broad shoulders, the soft curls of his hair- but his face is shadowed.

“Sir-” you whisper, cowering against the back of the booth.

“It’s clear that she’s insatiable,” Joshua responds smoothly, shifting on his side of the confessional. “I’d say you’re within your right to do anything you want to her. As long as I’m here, the dirty ways you choose to defile her will be penance, a Godly act.”

“A Godly act,” Seungcheol grins, turning to look over his shoulder at the others. “I don’t know why you’re so offput by this priest, Wonwoo, he makes all the sense in the world to me.” The unit leader’s eyes find you again. “Now, what to do with our naughty little whore of a princess.”

“I think you know what we’re going to do to her,” Jeonghan says sinisterly from outside the booth.

“Yes, but in what order… decisions, decisions.” Seungcheol cocks his head to the side. “I think I’ll have you first, pretty girl. I was the first one to have you in the beginning, it’s only fair that I have you first now.”

You can’t help yourself, you drop to your knees, shuffling forward. Seungcheol’s grin widens, and he looks down at you while you begin to undo his belt. 

“Good girl,” he muses, threading his fingers through your hair as you pull down his pants. He’s already hard, his cock springing up toward your face. You can feel yourself beginning to drool, and you grab his base, guiding him to your mouth. 

Seungcheol releases a low groan as you begin to blow him in the confessional. You don’t hold anything back. You sink down on him as much as you can, suctioning your lips around him and swirling your tongue. Even so, it’s not enough for Seungcheol. His grip tightens in your hair, holding you still so he can begin to fuck your face.

You moan around his cock, relaxing your throat so he can go as deep as he wants- and Seungcheol always likes to test your limits.

Your hands find his strong thighs, looking for something to anchor yourself while he uses you for his own pleasure. 

“Letting me fuck your face in a confessional, this is a new low, even for you, princess,” Seungcheol laughs, pulling you off his cock. “Open.”

You part your lips, sticking out your tongue. Seungcheol spits into your mouth.

“Now swallow,” he instructs, smirking as you follow through with the command. “Who do you belong to?”

“I belong to you, Sir,” you whimper.

“Keep that in mind tonight,” he warns, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look up at him. He squeezes you roughly, and then pulls you to your feet. Seungcheol thrusts you out of the confessional, holding you against his chest while your eyes take in the men all crowded outside. “Who do you want after I’m done with you?”

You can’t help but shift your gaze to Wonwoo, not because you want him to be next in line, but because you’re worried about how this is affecting him. He’d been more riled up than you’ve ever seen him before when you’d entered the chapel, and now that it’s clear Joshua will be joining this orgy, you wonder how he’s feeling.

Seungcheol follows your eyes. “Wonwoo goes last,” the unit leader announces.

“The priest goes last,” Wonwoo retorts, the words coming out in something near a growl.

“Now I see what she meant about him talking back,” Joshua muses as he steps out of his side of the booth. “Is that any way to speak to your superior?”

Wonwoo clenches his jaw tightly. If looks could kill, the priest would be dead, but it simply makes the man standing next to you laugh. The sound causes an ache in the pit of your stomach.

Jealousy has never been a part of this dynamic- that’s what makes this whole thing work. You worry about the implications this night will have on the rest of your time in the prison, worry about your safety going forward.

“Okay, princess,” Seungcheol brings his lips to your ear, his hands sneaking down the front of your dress and gripping the fabric, “I’m done waiting.”

In one quick motion, he reaches under your skirt, grabbing your panties and tearing them off. Then he pushes you forward, bending you at a ninety degree angle while he brings his cock to your soaked core. 

“I knew you’d be wet from this,” Seungcheol laughs, rubbing his tip through your pussy lips. “You know, priest, she wasn’t lying when she said she revels in the act of being watched. She goes fucking crazy for it. Let me show you just how crazy she gets.”

Seungcheol sinks his cock into your tight hole and you moan desperately, trying your best to hold yourself up in this position with your fingertips to the floor. The unit leader’s hands are on your hips, and he begins to rut into you roughly, forcing squeaks and moans of pleasure to slip out of you.

“Tell us how much you love this,” Seungcheol prompts.

“Fuck, I love it so much- oh my god-”

“Bet you’d love it more if you had something to suck on.”

Jeonghan and Mingyu both step forward immediately, and you feel Seungcheol’s hand leave your hips as he points at the elder of the two. “You.”

“Thank God,” Jeonghan grins, already working on his belt. “It’s been too long since I fucked your face in this church, kitten.”

“Put your hands behind your back,” Seungcheol instructs.

“I can’t-” you’re hardly stable and standing as it is, bent over like this.

“Give me one wrist,” the leader insists, grabbing it as soon as you’ve presented it to him. “And now the other.” With both your hands caught in a bruising grip, Seungcheol helps stabilize you, holding you up from behind. Your muscles are already beginning to ache, but when Jeonghan slips his cock into your mouth, you nearly forget about the burn.

“Fuck, this is so hot,” Jeonghan groans, thrusting gently in comparison to the man fucking your pussy. 

“She likes it too, gets all tight and wet whenever you hit the back of her throat,” Seungcheol laughs. “She loves being used like this.”

You can only moan like a whore around Jeonghan, an orgasm building in the pit of your stomach. 

“Gyu’s already touching himself, princess,” the unit leader tells you. “You love it when he gets needy and can’t wait.”

You do, you love it more than you can ever put into words-

“Tell her how good she looks like this,” Seungcheol demands.

“You look so fucking good,” Mingyu groans. “Our perfect little baby-”

“Your perfect little whore,” the priest laughs. 

“Mingyu’s too soft on her,” Seungcheol says with a grunt, fucking you so hard that your legs begin to shake. “He always has been, and he always will be.”

Great, now Seungcheol’s degrading Mingyu too. He’s not usually like this. You’re not sure why he’s in such a mood today- or why he has such good compatibility with Joshua.

“Enough talk, fuck,” Jeonghan groans. “If you’re not going to cum in her soon, I will.”

“You know I only cum when she begs,” Seungcheol retorts.

Jeonghan is quick to pull you off his cock, fisting your hair while tendrils of spit keep you tied to his throbbing tip. 

“Fuck, please, sir- I can hardly stand- please, I need your cum-”

Seungcheol laughs darkly. “You can do better than that.”

“Sir, I’ll die without it. I need it- I need it deep inside, please, I want you dripping out of me for days-”

His speed increases as you babble pathetically, and you can feel your core tightening around him. 

“I’m gonna cum- fuck, Sir, please, please cum with me, please- please let me cum-”

“Cum on my cock, dirty girl, show everyone how much you love getting fucked like this.”

As your orgasm slams into you, so does Jeonghan’s cock. He fills your mouth, muffling your sounds of pleasure while Seungcheol fills your pussy. Your entire body is thrumming with hot energy, alight with the ecstasy that your lovers always provide.

You can feel your wet walls milking Seungcheol’s cock, and his low groans only make your pussy throb harder, your orgasm lasting so long that it almost hurts.

It’s hard to breathe with Jeonghan fucking your face, but the lack of oxygen only adds to the copious stimulus, and you can already feel yourself beginning to cry a little from how good it all is.

The moment Seungcheol’s finished, Jeonghan is tearing himself away from your mouth. “My turn, my turn-” he insists, tugging you off of Seungcheol only to flip you around with your back to his chest. He bends you over in the same manner that his superior did, sliding his cock into your cum filled hole. “Fuck-”

“Hannie-” you whimper, legs still shaky.

“I know, I know,” he coos at you. “I’ll give you what you want.”

His hand wraps around your body, fingers finding your aching clit. You’d cum from penetration alone with Seungcheol, and your sensitive bud had been throbbing at the missed action- now, each rub of Jeonghan’s digits has you crying out.

“Need you to cum again,” Jeonghan tells you. “You can do that for me, right? Cum on my cock just like you did for Cheol- you’re a good girl, aren’t you, kitten?”

“I’m good,” you insist, on the verge of tears again.

Suddenly, hands are cupping your face, and you open your eyes to see Mingyu on his knees in front of you. He wipes your tears away with his thumb, pressing his lips to yours. “Wanna see you cum, baby,” he murmurs.

There’s nothing like a gentle touch after the number Cheol just did on you, and something about Mingyu’s words tip you over the edge. You gasp against his lips, pussy clamping down on Jeonghan like a vice while he groans loudly.

You feel him spilling deep inside of you, pressing his hips flush to your ass while your walls contract around his cock. “Fucking hell-” Jeonghan grunts, thrusting shallowly while orgasms surge through you both.

Mingyu kisses you deeper, his large hand finding the back of your neck, stroking you while his tongue invades your mouth. You get lost in the kiss while your orgasm subsides, and when Jeonghan pulls out of you, you crumple down onto your knees.

“Come here,” Mingyu says softly, collecting you into his lap while he sits against the wood floor. There’s no cushioning tonight, no jacket placed down to make things easy on you. Your knees hurt as they dig against the hardwood, but part of you thinks you deserve the pain while you wriggle against Mingyu, immediately grinding on his hard cock while cum begins to drip out of you.

Mingyu grabs your dress, tearing it off your body to reveal your naked form to the house of God. Your hand finds his cock, pumping him desperately-

“Two loads are never enough,” Seungcheol muses, but his words feel distant while you kiss Mingyu. “Look at her, stroking him off- I bet she can’t even last a minute before taking him next.”

He’s right. You hate that he’s right. 

Although, in this instance, you don’t want to fuck Mingyu only for yourself, you want to fuck him for him too. He’s clearly as needy as you are tonight, moaning sinfully when you kiss down his throat, finding his sweet spot and sucking it.

“Can you take me, baby?” he asks. “It’s okay if you can’t-”

God, you love him. 

He doesn’t realize that you have something to prove. Doesn’t realize that tonight, failure is not an option.

You lift yourself up enough to bring his tip to your core, and then you sink down on every glorious inch he has to offer. 

Mingyu practically whimpers into the kiss, and the sound of it releases something feral inside of you. Suddenly you don’t care about your knees getting bruised on the floor, you simply want to fuck this man like you’ve never fucked him before.

Your hands find his shoulders, and you push him onto the ground. Your hips begin to move and you tangle your fingers in his hair, kissing him desperately while you ride him. His cock is so big- so long and hard, that it gives you a lot to work with. There’s no fear of it slipping out, no fear of losing him- he’s yours, completely. 

Mingyu is groaning into the kiss, his hands skimming down your back and grabbing your ass, helping you with each thrust.

“Holy shit,” Jeonghan breathes. “I didn’t know she could ride like that.”

“That’s cuz you like to fuck her face,” Seungcheol retorts.

“Still,” Jeonghan insists, “look at our little superstar go.”

Their words make you more confident, and you push yourself up using Mingyu’s shoulders as leverage. You throw your head back, moaning loudly in the sanctity of the church. You’re aware that you’re giving every man watching a full view of you now, your breasts bouncing, hips rutting wildly as you claw at Mingyu’s chest-

You open your eyes. Seungcheol’s sitting on a pew, his boots up on the bench in front of him, where Joshua is perched. Wonwoo’s leaning against the confessional, arms crossed over his chest. Jeonghan is simply sitting on the floor a few feet away. They’re all watching you intently.

“Gyu,” Seungcheol says suddenly, taking off his dog tag and throwing it at the two of you, “put this around her neck.”

“What?” Mingyu tilts his head to the side, a large, muscled arm reaching out across the church floor to grab the chain.

“In case our little whore loses track of who’s already filled her up,” Seungcheol explains, although, you’re pretty sure that won’t be a problem. 

No, as Seungcheol’s dogtag is placed around your neck, followed quickly by Jeonghan’s, you think this must be another way of your men to claim you as theirs.

Joshua doesn’t have a dog tag, his mark won’t be around your neck like a collar showing off who you belong to.

As you ride Mingyu, the dogtags bounce against your breasts, the metal clinking softly together. The material is cool against your hot skin, and you hate that you enjoy it like this.

Mingyu sits up abruptly, burying his face in your tits. His mouth wraps around your nipple and you claw at his hair, throwing your head back and moaning. “Fuck, puppy-”

You hardly ever call him by that petname, but it feels fitting like this. Mingyu groans, palming your other breast with his hand, and it’s a confirmation that he enjoys the term. 

“You’re so deep-” you continue, knowing he also loves praise. “You fill me up so good-”

Mingyu’s arms wrap around the small of your back, and then he’s rolling the two of you so he’s in the top position. He adjusts your thighs, pressing one up against your chest as he begins to fuck into you hard and deep, hitting spots that have you clawing at the floor.

Part of you wants to leave a mark on the wooden planks outside the confessional, a constant reminder to Joshua that you’ve desecrated this holy place. That he’s allowed you to do so, that he’s even sanctioned it. 

Mingyu’s lips find your throat, and a shiver runs through you. One hand threads through his hair, massaging his scalp while he fucks his friends’ cum deep into your core. Your other hand lifts from the floor, sneaking between your bodies to find your clit.

Your pussy clenches at the touch, and Mingyu groans lewdly, fucking you even harder.

“I’m close, puppy,” you tell him, panting in his ear. “I’m so fucking close-”

“Me too,” he whimpers, sucking on your ear. “Me too, baby, fuck- you feel so good-”

“You feel good too,” you assure him, applying more pressure to your clit. “So, so good, Gyu-”

“Shit, I can’t-”

“Cum for me, puppy, please, just cum for me-” you beg, drawing his lips to yours as he groans loudly, shooting his load into your pussy.

His thrusts are rough and erratic, and he triggers your own orgasm, making you gasp into the kiss. The two of you are panting, tongue tied and animalistic as you work through your shared high. 

You claw at his back- it’s as though you need him closer, you want to devour him even though he’s as physically close to you as he ever possibly could be.

Mingyu’s large form shudders as his orgasm subsides, and you know he’s on the verge of overstimulation. He’d kept fucking you for your sake, not his own, and you kiss him lovingly at the thought. 

The two of you have a close bond. You take care of eachother, and you always will. 

Mingyu finally breaks the kiss, looking down at you while he catches his breath. “I-” he swallows thickly. There’s a deep emotion brewing behind his chocolate brown eyes, and you wonder if he’ll voice it for the first time, in front of everyone else. “Wonwoo hyung probably wants you now.”

Your adoring puppy boy pulls out of you, and you whimper at the loss. He sits back on his heels, looking down at you, then he takes off his dog tag, gently placing it around your neck to join the others.

You turn to look at Wonwoo, and he smiles at you softly from where he’s leaning on the confessional. “Hey, beautiful, can you walk?”

You nod, allowing Mingyu to help you up onto shaky legs. You’re aware of the cum beginning to drip down your thighs with each step you take, but you can’t bring yourself to care. When you finally make it to Wonwoo, you throw your arms around his shoulders, enjoying the way he hugs you, twirling you around so you’re now the one pressed up against the confession booth.

His lips meet yours. It’s not a hungry kiss, not at first. It’s a kiss that speaks a thousand words, and yet, none at all. It’s a kiss that reassures you that everything he said at the door before you entered the church was true. 

‘Whatever happens in there, it won’t change how I feel about you.’

When you’d started all of this six months ago, the last person you expected to have a true soft spot for was Wonwoo. He’s not a huge talker, but when he does speak, he’s sincere. It’s one of your favourite things about him- well, that, and the way that his arms have started to feel like the first home you’ve experienced since the outbreak.

His hand cups the back of your head, and the kiss deepens. You press your bare chest against his own, moaning at the contact. Wonwoo grins, nibbling at your bottom lip while his fingers begin to trail down your body.

He’s soft as he circles your clit, and it leaves you wanting more, rutting your hips against him. It’s all too easy for Wonwoo to slip his fingers into your dripping pussy, and the squelching sound your core makes has your skin heating with embarrassment. But Wonwoo clearly doesn’t care about the noise as he begins to pump his hand, curling his digits to reach your gspot.

You grab his shoulders, legs already feeling shaky. You’re moaning too much now for him to kiss you properly, so his lips find your throat.

Whimpers and wet sounds fill the church, and as Wonwoo’s pace increases, you realize what his intention is. The sniper has always had skilled fingers, and it’s not uncommon for him to make you squirt- you can already feel your pussy beginning to drench his hand, but you’re not sure if it’s your cum or someone elses.

All you know is that it feels amazing. The pressure in your stomach is like hot ecstasy, and each rough pump of his fingers has your body tingling with pleasure. 

“Fuck, Wonwoo-” you moan, words caught as he palms your clit. Your eyes clench shut, you feel more liquid squirting out of you, can feel the impact of it hitting the floor, sending droplets that skirt by your toes-

“That’s going to be a bitch to clean up, Shua,” Jeonghan notes with a snicker.

You can feel your lover grinning by your throat- maybe this was his intention all along. 

“Wonwoo-” you whimper, shocked at the amount of squirt that’s left your body. “Too much-”

The sniper doesn’t hesitate when he hears this, he simply pulls his fingers from your core, presenting them to your lips as he pushes his pants down with his free hand.

You suck greedily on his fingers, tasting the mix of cum you find there. 

Wonwoo pulls his hand away too quickly, reaching down to grab your thighs and lift you off the ground. He pushes you against the confession both, pressing his cock into your hole while his lips attack yours again.

God, it feels good not to be standing. Your legs were starting to feel like jelly, and now, you can focus on the cock filling you up. You just get to relax against the soft wooden booth and take what Wonwoo is giving you.

The kiss is a hungry one, his tongue battling yours as he finds a quick pace. You’ve been fucked by three other men already, but it still feels so good to have Wonwoo inside of you like this. 

You tangle your fingers in his soft curls, moaning desperately while he rails you against the confession booth. Your mind goes pleasantly blank. With Wonwoo, no words have to be said, you can feel what he’s expressing, can feel how much he cares for you. 

The angle he’s holding you in has his cock hitting deep, teasing that special spot that has your toes curling. Each smack of his hips against your own has your clit being teased, a consistent pressure that’s quickly tightening the knot in your abdomen again.

“Wonwoo-” you whimper.

“You’re close?” he asks, sounding a little shocked as he breaks the kiss to look at you.

“Sensitive,” you remind him, pouting out your lower lip as you cup his cheek. “You feel so good.”

He releases a groan, kissing you again. 

Wonwoo’s not Cheol. He doesn’t make you beg for an orgasm. He’ll simply give it to you- kiss you stupid while his body does the work of getting you to cloud nine. 

You allow the orgasm to build naturally. There’s no demanding that it comes, no countdowns or ‘cum with me’s- Wonwoo cumming with you is a given. He has selfcontrol, and he holds out till the moment your pussy clamps down on his cock.

The two of you groan into each other’s mouths, Wonwoo’s fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs as he fucks you through it. You cling to him desperately while he eats up all your sounds of pleasure. 

For a moment, you’re not some free-use whore being tossed around a group of men in a church- it’s just you and Wonwoo.

You get lost in him, your orgasm feeling endless- but all good things must end, and soon, Wonwoo’s motions stop. His cock stays buried inside of you, his body pressing your own against the confessional while you both breathe heavily between kisses.

Finally, Wonwoo pulls away. He stares at you for a moment, more unspoken communication making your heart swell. He sets you onto your feet gently, helping you stand with one hand while he does up his pants.

Then he takes off his dog tag, leaning in close as he puts it around your neck. “I hate this,” he whispers, and you can’t be sure that he’s only talking about the act of owning you with the chain on your throat.

Wonwoo moves away, and you open your mouth to say more- but you’re cut off by someone clearing their throat. Your gaze shifts to Seungcheol, who stands from the pew he was sitting at. “One more to go, princess.”

Joshua grins, stepping forward. “How should we do this?”

It takes a moment for you to realize he’s not asking you. Seungcheol lets up a deep breath. “Honestly, knowing my insatiable princess, I’d say she could take both of us. You can fuck her ass, priest, but her pussy belongs to us.”

You hate the tingle of excitement that runs through you, your eyes dipping to the front of Seungcheol’s pants, where he’s already growing hard again. 

“You’re the boss,” Joshua muses, watching the unit leader step toward you.

Seungcheol takes you into his arms, one hand cupping your cheek as he looks down at you. “You’ve been so good for us,” he says softly. “Gonna keep being good, right?”

“Yes, sir,” you nod, wrapping your arms around his neck so you can bring him in for a kiss.

The touch of your lips is short-lived. Seungcheol gets down onto the ground, lying flat while he helps you on top of him. “I’ll fuck this pretty pussy,” he announces, undoing his belt for the second time tonight, “and you can lube up Joshua with a taste of your mouth.”

“Okay, sir,” you whimper, looking down between your bodies to watch him pull out his cock. The moment it’s free, he lines it up with your core, his warm hands finding your hips to help you sink onto him.

You both let out moans of pleasure, your eyes closing as you begin to bob up and down slowly. 

The sound of another belt being undone draws your gaze to Joshua, who’s come to stand next to you and Cheol. “Open wide,” he tells you, grabbing the base of his cock and pumping.

You look up at the priest, doing as you’re told. His eyes stay fixed on yours as he slowly pushes his cock past your lips. He doesn’t go in all the way, only giving you half, and waiting expectantly for you to begin sucking him off.

As you hollow your cheeks, digging your nails into Seungcheol’s chest for leverage, the unit leader begins rutting up into you. You can’t help but moan around Joshua’s cock, and you watch as he lets out a sigh of relief, grabbing the back of your head so he can hold you still. He begins to fuck your face, and once again, you’re just a fuck toy caught between two alpha males.

You know what comes next, know that Joshua will be in your ass soon, so you do your best to lube him up with your spit. It’s clear that your wet mouth is driving the priest into a frenzy, his cock hitting the back of your throat now with each thrust.

You’re doing your best not to gag, your eyes welling with tears that you blink away as you gaze up at the priest. 

“She’s so pretty when she cries,” Joshua muses, wiping away one of the tears with his thumb.

“Our little princess is always pretty,” Seungcheol insists with a grunt, forcing you to take his cock fully, keeping you pinned on his hips. “Are you going to fuck her ass or not?”

Joshua pulls himself from your mouth, clearly amused by the lines of drool that still connect him to you. “Be good for us,” Joshua says sweetly.

Seungcheol tugs you to his chest, his hands moving to your ass where he spreads your cheeks for the man who sinks to his knees behind you. 

You feel Joshua’s tip rub against your hole, and you do your best to breathe normally, relaxing your body so you can take him as he slowly pushes inside.

There’s nothing in the world like being full- with cum, with cock, with everything-

“This is too hot,” Jeonghan’s voice makes you look up. “Wanna suck me off too, kitten? If you don’t, I might bust all over myself from this view alone.”

At this point, your mind is fuzzy, and you can’t help but nod, sitting up and opening your mouth for Jeonghan.

“There’s our good kitten,” he grins, immediately whipping out his dick and slotting it past your lips. “Fuck, so fucking good for us. I know you love it when you get three cocks at once. Our little kitten with her kink for being completely full-”

At this point, there are no thoughts swirling around in your head, only the feeling of three men filling you up to their heart’s desire. Seungcheol and Joshua find a push-pull motion that has tension building in your abdomen much too easily. Jeonghan, meanwhile, is fucking you slowly, taking his time and releasing groans as you suck him off.

The tip of Jeonghan’s cock hits the back of your throat, and your body convulses, making both Joshua and Seungcheol moan loudly. Their fingers dig into your skin, you can feel hot breath against your chest and shoulders.

“You know,” Seungcheol groans, “A priest really shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Not so willingly, at least,” Jeonghan adds.

“Well,” Joshua sighs loudly, “I guess now is as good a time as any to tell you all that I’m not actually a priest.”

“What?” Jeonghan and Seungcheol stop thrusting, and you sputter as Jeonghan’s cock slips from your lips, taking haggard breaths.

“It’s not like any of you asked for a resume when I showed up here,” Joshua jokes.

“That’s because you were dressed as a fucking priest?!” Seungcheol’s voice is raising now, his fingers digging into your ass while Joshua continues to fuck you nonchalantly.

“I’ve been quite convincing, wouldn’t you say?” You’d bet your life that the ‘priest’ is wearing a shit-eating grin, but at this point, you can’t even bring yourself to care.

“Sir,” you whimper, clawing at his chest.

Seungcheol swallows thickly. “We’re gonna make her cum, but you and I are going to have a talk about this later, priest.”

Jeonghan presents his cock to you again, and you take it into your mouth. You suck on him hard, wanting to get him as close to the edge as you are. In response, Jeonghan begins to fuck your face again, hitting the back of your throat so your body clenches around Joshua and Seungcheol.

“Fuck,” the unit leader moans, landing a slap across your ass that has your mind spinning. “Need you to cum for us,” he tells you. “Need you to be a good little cock whore and take what we give you.”

You moan loudly around Jeonghan, getting lost in the feeling of being so completely full that you can’t think straight.

Seungcheol lets go of your ass, bringing his thumb to your clit-

The first rough drag of his digit across the sensitive bud triggers your orgasm, and you practically scream around Jeonghan, entire body fizzling with electric energy.

“Fuck-” Jeonghan groans, giving one last thrust before he cums down your throat, holding your head so your nose touches his pelvis, not allowing you to go anywhere as you sputter and take what he gives you.

Seungcheol and Joshua let out moans of their own, and you can feel the heat of them cumming too, filling up both of your holes to a point that’s almost dizzying. 

Jeonghan pulls out of your mouth and you immediately slump down against Seungcheol’s chest, body shaking as you struggle to breathe. Joshua also retreats. You can feel hot tears rolling down your cheeks, too many emotions swirling around in your post orgasmic haze for you to even keep track of.

“Sit up for me, princess, let’s get a look at you,” Seungcheol insists, stroking your back.

With a deep breath, you slowly sit up, rubbing at your eyes.

Joshua comes to stand in front of you, an expression akin to concern on his face. “You’re forgiven for your sins,” he tells you.

Wonwoo scoffs loudly.

The priest reaches up, taking off his cross necklace. As he begins to hold it over your head, intent on adding his claim to the four that already hang around your throat, Wonwoo grabs his hand roughly. Then your sniper tears the cross from Joshua’s grasp, throwing it across the church. “Don’t even fucking try it,” Wonwoo growls. “She doesn’t belong to you. This was a one-time thing.”

“And you’re the one making decisions now?” Seungcheol glares, sitting up and pressing his palms flat to the floor behind himself to balance, his abs moving under pretty skin. 

“Kitten should choose,” Jeonghan agrees. “Like she did at the start.”

“Look at her,” Wonwoo insists, voice breaking. “We all fucked her brains out. She’s not making any big decisions right now. In fact-” Wonwoo reaches down and picks your dress off the ground, helping you put it on, “We’re taking her home. Gyu.”

Your largest lover encircles his arms around you, lifting you up and off Cheol without a question asked. You tuck in close to his chest, closing your eyes and enjoying the bridal style of the carry. 

“Clearly this wasn’t punishment enough for your subordinate who likes to talk back,” Joshua muses, speaking to Cheol while he watches you, Wonwoo and Mingyu head toward the church doors.

Wonwoo’s fist clenches at his side, Mingyu looks back, but no one says anything else. You pass out in Mingyu’s arms while they carry you back to the Z1 dorm. Mingyu lays you on a bed softly, immediately cuddling up to your side. He begins to stroke your hair and you open your eyes when you feel a warm cloth cleaning your inner thighs.

“Hey, beautiful,” Wonwoo looks up at you. “How are you feeling.”

“Okay,” you murmur.

Wonwoo frowns, exchanging a look with Mingyu. 

“Did i say something wrong?” you ask.

“No, it’s just…” Wonwoo swallows thickly, “usually you say ‘good’ or ‘great’ or ‘amazing.’”

“Oh. sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. You never have to apologize to us.” Wonwoo finishes cleaning up the mess between your legs, and he tosses the cloth on the floor, getting onto the bed with you. You curl up against his chest, and Mingyu presses to your back, his soft fingers caressing you. “We shouldn’t have done that to you.”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” Wonwoo insists. “But we shouldn’t talk about this right now. You need rest.”

The mention of sleeping makes you yawn, and you close your eyes, enjoying the warmth that your protectors provide. “Goodnight.”

Mingyu presses a kiss to your shoulder as you begin to drift off. “Goodnight, baby.”

Epilogue

It’s been a week since the orgy in the church, and you’ve spent every night since then cuddled between Wonwoo and Mingyu, thinking heavily about yourself and the relationship you have with the men in your life.

You wake up on the seventh day with your mind set. Wonwoo’s already awake, sitting silently and staring at the wall while acting as your pillow. He looks down at you when you stir, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “Good morning, beautiful.”

“Hi, handsome,” you retort, loving the way his new petname tastes on your lips. “Can I… can I be vulnerable with you for a moment?”

“Always,” he assures you, nudging Mingyu to wake him up.

The man behind you groans, but presses kisses to your shoulder nonetheless. “What’s happening?”

“Baby has something to tell us,” Wonwoo says softly.

“Okay, baby.” Mingyu speckles more kisses along your skin, tucking closer to your back.

“I think… I think I need to end things with Jeonghan and Seungcheol.” You’re shocked at the resolve in your tone, but at the same time, the declaration feels right. 

“What?” Mingyu holds you tighter, kisses ceasing.

“When I entered this dynamic, I never thought I’d pick favourites,” you explain, “but I think it’s clear that I have. It’s clear to me now that you two care for me in a different way than they do- and… I’d rather focus on this, what we three have, then betray myself with them any longer.”

You’re proud of yourself for putting all your chaotic thoughts into such simple words, and you wait patiently for a response.

“I think that’s a good decision,” Wonwoo says finally, letting out a shaky breath. 

“I just feel like- I mean, I love Jeonghan, I love Seungcheol, but I’m not in love with them. Not in the way that I’m in love with you guys… and I think… I think you’re both in love with me too.”

Mingyu lets out a soft groan. “It’s been hard not to say it.”

“I’m sorry if I made you feel like you couldn’t,” you whisper, reaching to thread your fingers with his hand resting on your hip.

“It wasn’t you,” Mingyu reassures, “it was the way the five of us worked. It didn’t feel like there was room to say it.”

“Well you can say it now.”

“I love you,” Mingyu groans, squeezing your hand. “Fuck, I do. I do love you. A stupid amount.”

“I love you too,” you grin, light airy energy surging through your body. You find yourself looking up at Wonwoo. “Do you love me?”

“Is that even a question?” He lets out a small laugh, cupping your cheek. “I’ve been in love with you for months.”

“I wish we’d all said it earlier,” you admit. “I came into this living each day like it might be my last, but I neglected to do the one thing that’s most important- I didn’t tell either of you how I felt, and I promise I’m going to make up for it every day I have with the two of you.”

You’ll talk to Jeonghan and Seungcheol later. You can deal with whatever reactions they have, as long as Mingyu and Wonwoo are by your side.

Seungcheol has always called you insatiable. He’s made you feel like a needy whore who couldn’t get enough- and yet, that final penance was more than enough. It made you realize that you are satiated- by love, not lust. 

You’ve paid your dues, your penance is complete, and now, even during an apocalypse, you can finally try to secure a life for yourself that you always wished for, with your two protectors. You can finally be happy, and fulfilled. 

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! I really don't know how this happened, but uh.... I want them. If you liked this one, I've done this pairing before here

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🔮 preview. It’s practically perfect to have Mingyu worshiping between your thighs while Wonwoo is the anchor at your back, whispering soft nothings in your ear and massaging your breasts. This is what love is, and you’re so fucking happy you’ve found it.

cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, threesome, pussy eating, oral, deep throating, fingering, breast play/worship, overstim, multiple reader orgasms, mentions of old bdsm style ‘rules’/begging, soft boy lovers, dirty talk, praise, size kink, hand job, stroking wonwoo while mingyu rails you, multiple sex positions (sideways, doggy, etc…),   I petnames. (hers) beautiful, baby, etc… (mingyu’s) puppy. (wonwoo’s) handsome.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 3.4k I teaser wc. 250

🌙 staring. Mingyu & Wonwoo x afab!Reader

bonus

You love the feeling of sun on your face. The warmth reminds you of your two lovers, who hang back, sitting on a barricade a hundred feet away. There are no supply runs today, so Mingyu and Wonwoo have taken to shadowing you at a respectful distance, giving you and Hansol your space to putter around the garden and tend to the growing food.

“You seem happier lately,” Hansol muses as he digs holes to plant beet seeds Wonwoo had found for you on his last trip to the city.

“I am,” you admit, gazing over at the two men who are chatting and laughing together. “It’s nice to be spending more time in the garden again.”

“And I see you’ve picked up your cafeteria tasks with Seokmin again,” Hansol points out. “I know he missed you for a few months.”

“Yeah, I had a lot going on at the time.”

You’ve never outwardly spoken with Hansol about your prior arrangement with Z1, but you can tell he’s noticed Seungcheol and Jeonghan not pulling you away anymore. Your closest survivor friends are too respectful to ask for details, but it’s been a few weeks since you’d ‘broken up’ with the elder Z1’s, and you think you’re finally ready to talk about it a little.

“My priorities weren’t straight,” you continue.

“But it looks like they are now,” Hansol says, straightening to look at the men on the barricade. “You all look a lot happier.”

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[blooberrries]

『consequential』 — satoru

— pairing: satoru x afab!reader — wc: 5k — content: mdni, nsfw; vampire au, college/university au, jealous/possessive satoru, blood drinking, vampire bites (chest, neck and arm), alcohol, mutual pining (a distant relative of idiots to lovers), piv sex, love bites (heh literally), standing/sex against the wall (he holds you up the entire time because he's actually insane), unprotected sex, creampie, cockwarming,he's a bit of a simp really idk if that was planned — notes: got possessed by the Horny Spirit, also not proofread. enjoy? also be gentle with me I haven't written smut in over a year

prompt: ["Oh, don't be cute."] + [“you’re all mine” - “hm…” - “say it” - “i’m all yours”]

While slightly spiteful, your plan had been simple and had about a 50/50 chance of succeeding, with minimal loss to you if it didn’t.

Two weeks ago Gojo Satoru had— after months of asking for it and being denied by you— finally gotten your permission to drink your blood. So he’d gone ahead and bitten you, you’d loved it and probably fell even more annoyingly head over heels for him as a result of the oddly erotic experience, and the way he had acted during the whole ordeal gave you a decent indication that he most definitely felt the same way you did.

You’d expected things to finally change between you after that, hell you’d actually been excited for it.

But instead of leaning into the shift in the dynamic between you, Satoru had instead decided to pretend you didn’t exist and proceeded to completely avoid you for the last two weeks.

(Which is actually quite the feat considering how much overlap there is between your friend groups. But you’re not impressed. You’re mad.)

To say you were upset would be an understatement. Your pride was wounded along with your ego, and you felt foolish and embarrassed and stupidly angsty. The unfortunate reality is that you’re not very good at processing those feelings, so in your time of need you turned to your most faithful, long-time friend: spite.

You know for a fact that Satoru likes the way you smell and taste– it’s one of the many things he’d let slip when sucking the blood ever so gently from the puncture he’d made in the soft flesh of your inner forearm. So you decided to wait until the prime part of your cycle, where the supernatural consensus said humans smelt their best, and you’d procured a tincture from your witch-in-training friend that would accentuate the natural appeal of your blood for certain creatures of the night (she’d assured you it was safe, but you have your own means of defending yourself anyway so you aren’t too worried.)

Then, you’d waltzed your way into a party that was being held at his shared accommodation and made it a point to have fun. The real goal of your plan, besides sticking it to him in the most subtle-not-subtle way ever, was also just to feel better about yourself. Your expectations being upended regarding how you’d hoped things would develop with Satoru had been a big blow and would take some TLC from yours truly to recover from.

You’ve had fun so far, you’re only a drink or so in and pleasantly buzzed, and you’re getting a lot of compliments on your perfume. You can’t exactly tell them you’re not wearing anything but eau de spite, but it does feel nice nonetheless. Each comment is like a balm to your poor, chafed ego. The only wrench in the works is that as expected, not long after you arrived, Satoru noticed you.

And then proceeded to continue in his efforts to avoid and ignore you. He’d disappeared into the throng of people on the other side of the house before you could even blink.

It takes a strongly mixed cocktail, courtesy of Shoko who you’re not sure isn’t trying to kill you with the alcohol content of these drinks, for you to settle your fuming. This is stupid— no, he’s stupid. Stupid sexy vampire with his stupid pretty eyes and stupid pretty face. How dare he let you make a fool of yourself by thinking there could be anything more between you! You never should have let him bite you. At least then things would still be the same and you wouldn’t be so torn between throttling him and kissing him.

Angrily, you take a hearty gulp of your drink. Despite the superficial fruity flavour it burns on the way down, unsurprisingly, and you have to breathe slowly through your nose so it doesn’t come back up. You’re no longer uncertain; you’re confident this cocktail is an attempt on your life.

It’s as you’re nursing that drink and leaning angstily against a wall in the corner of the room, that you sense someone approach you. Your eyes take a moment to adjust as you look up, surprise filtering through you once you register the figure by your side.

“Hey.”

Your brows shoot up, a small grin tugging your lips. “Oh? Long time no see, Mei Mei. What cave have you crawled out of to be here tonight?”

The snow-haired woman rolls her eyes, lips twitching. Her tongue darts to swipe over the tip of a pointed canine.

“Oh, you know, every homebody has to come out to play every once in a while.” Her nose twitches, and she leans forward slightly to inhale. Her eyes flutter wide in pleasant surprise. “Well, don’t you smell absolutely divine tonight. Special occasion?”

Kind of, but you’re not about to tell her that. Mei Mei can be a decent enough acquaintance so long as you keep her at arm’s length.

“I’m trying something new,” you answer simply. She hums, and when her body angles towards you again ever so slightly you become aware of the most odd, prickly sensation. It tickles the hairs at the back of your neck, and you fight the peculiar urge to turn and look around. All you’d see is dancing bodies and stumbling drunks, anyway.

“It suits,” Mei Mei purrs with a smile that makes you a little nervous. Music throbs against your body so strongly that for a moment you’re not sure whether the beat you’re feeling in your chest belongs to your heart or the song. “Though you ought to be careful going on campus smelling like that. You’ll lure in every bloodsucker in a five-mile radius.”

You suppose that means the tincture is doing its job. The way her eyes are appraising your pulse points keeps you feeling nervous, though. Perhaps… it wasn’t the best idea to make yourself smell so scrumptious after all. There are more than a few loose canons in the area.

It’s a little too late for regrets now, though. At this point you just gotta double down and own the decision.

“Noted,” you say, taking a hearty sip of your death-in-a-cup. The burn is now a pleasant distraction. You smile at Mei Mei and feel that prickly, hot feeling increase tenfold. What is that?!

The sensation has your heart rate elevating slightly, and it must make the aroma of your blood a little stronger because the vampire before you lets out a soft groan, her eyes fluttering shut. Almost like it’s instinct, she takes a step closer and leans her head towards the crook of your neck. Your startle is almost imperceptible, and you’re thankful that the top you opted for is one that saved the neck exposure for a well-placed boob window instead. The fabric covering half the expanse of your throat is probably the only reason you don’t freak out at her actions.

Her nose brushes your skin, dragging up the column of your throat until it flirts with the bottom of your earlobe. Your heart skips a beat before tumbling into a full gallop. It’s different to how it felt with Satoru— you don’t like this nearly as much. Your legs tense with the urge to leave.

“Really,” she says, purring your name. “You’ve got me feeling quite peckish. Won’t you let me have a little sn–“

A grip winds around your wrist like a vice, not painful but certainly unforgiving. Startled, you look up and see the person of the hour, the vampire you went to all this effort to torment in the hopes he would want you again. Wow, it doesn’t sound great when you think of it like that. The alcohol is certainly not helping your self-esteem right now.

Satoru’s pretty baby-blues are dark, pupils blown wider than you’ve ever seen before, and his entire body is riddled with tension. He almost looks like the slightest pressure would have him snapping in half. His jaw is locked tightly, and he hisses through clenched teeth and descended fangs.

“Come with me. Now.”

You don’t get the chance to bid Mei Mei farewell, not that you really want to, and the last thing you see as you’re dragged out of the room is her waving a manicured hand your way, mouthing a playful ‘goodbye’. She looks far too amused for your comfort.

Right now, Satoru is nothing like the cheeky, carefree, shit-stirring bastard you’ve come to know and love. That isn’t to say you’re completely opposed to it, because the way he looks like know is a pretty big turn-on. But still – the difference is startling. You’re not sure how to navigate the situation.

Before you know it you’ve been unceremoniously relocated to his bedroom, and he is pressing you against the door the second it closes behind you with a heavy, loud THUD.

For a moment, the only sound that fills the space is that of the music beyond the wooden barrier. The bass is no longer indistinguishable with your heart beat – the stuttering rhythm that echoes against your rib cage is all you.

Satoru inhales deeply as though to calm himself down, only to let out a long, low groan immediately after. The sound affects you more than it probably should, heat winding pleasantly up your spine.

“What was that?” He demands, brows snapping together. It takes you a moment to realise that he’s most likely referring to Mei Mei being horny on main just before. His massive frame boxes you in against the door in such a way that you’re almost embarrassed by how much it makes your tummy flutter.

“I don’t know what you mean,” you breathe, chin tilted up as you hold his gaze. Something feral flickers through his expression.

“Oh, don’t be cute.” The words snap into the air, causing your breath to hitch. Satoru’s eyes flick to your forearm, where the slightest bruise still remains from the last time you were in close quarters like this. He swallows, piercing gaze returning to your own.

“I told you.” Satoru’s words leave in a snarl, his fingers firm against the flesh of your hips. His own body is so close to yours that you can feel the heat of it, the tingle of electricity that arcs between you. “That I would be able to smell it if another vampire so much as breathed near you. Did you think I wouldn’t notice you getting chummy with one in my own home?”

You can easily recall him saying that to you almost a fortnight ago, when he had been commenting that he could tell you hadn’t been bitten before thanks to his sharp senses and all that. You didn’t think he was lying. You are surprised that he cares, though. Something like indignation bubbles beneath your lungs, because how dare the bastard spout that shit when he just spent the last two weeks since your ‘encounter’ pretending you didn’t exist.

“Not sure why you give a shit,” you retort, squashing down a whine that begins to rise in your throat when his hips begin to press into yours. “Seemed like you were done with me after you finally got that taste you wanted so bad.”

His brows scrunch together, appearing confused for a second amongst the agitation on his features. You decide to fill the gap in the conversation on his behalf.

“I really was just a Sip ‘n’ Dip to you, huh,” you scoff, letting your head fall back against the door. His eyes snap to the column of your throat, more of which is now exposed. “At least now I know the only thing you want from me is my blood. Really saved me some grief there, Satoru.”

“Excuse me?”

When your eyes slide back to his face, he looks like you’ve physically struck him. His fingers dig into your hips almost out of habit, just shy of being painful. Anger still bubbles beneath your sternum, and you glare at him.

“By the way, as far as I’m aware, biting me once doesn’t give you any exclusive rights to my blood, so where the hell do you get off getting so shitty because someone else took a whiff–“

Satoru snaps.

“I don’t just want your blood,” he snarls, lips curling away from pin-prick sharp fangs. He has the nerve to look insulted. “I want you, you stupidly oblivious pain in my ass. All of you.”

He then leans in, erasing any foreign scents lingering on you and replacing it with something of his own, whatever pheromone bullshit vampires do. You’re too busy trying to stop your heart from having palpitations to focus on it too much because what the fuck did he just say—

“Do you have any idea how close I am to losing myself to a frenzy, like a fucking fledgling?!” His lips brush over the pulse point at your neck, and then teeth, razor-sharp and full of promise, drag over the skin of your clavicle, leaving gooseflesh in their wake. You shiver, flushing with heat and desire. The threat of another bite is already enough to have your body reacting in memory of how the last one felt. You want him, god you want him so, so badly.

“I haven’t fed since then because I can’t get the taste of you out of my head, and I can’t stomach anything else. I can’t stop thinking about the noises you made when I sank my teeth into you, and the scent of absolute desire that filled the entire fucking room the second the venom kicked in for you.” Satoru’s words are punctuated by a prick just below your collarbone, the brief sting eliciting a gasp. Warmth begins to trickle thinly from the site and is quickly staunched by a press of his tongue, and he moans. You’re so painfully aroused that it nearly makes you dizzy. He groans, long and suffering. “Just like now.”

He moves lower and lower, hauling you off the floor and completely into his hold so his mouth can reach your chest without stooping. Suddenly in the air, you can’t help the way you yelp and wrap your legs tightly around his hips – which, in turn, presses the heat of your core against the very prominent bulge there. You both echo a groan.

“Coward,” you manage to pant, out of sheer spite if nothing else. “Stupid idiot. I clearly want you. I literally could not have been any more obvious, you’re so –“

His teeth sink into the exposed top of your breast, retracting once they puncture deep enough to get a good flow. Then, he latches firmly onto the flesh, sucking it into his mouth. The act startles a moan out of you, the venom from the initial bite already transmuting the pain into heady pleasure and sending heat through your veins, all while kicking your heart into an even faster beat. Perhaps one of the best perks of the venom is that after that first dose settles in, the only part of the process left for you to feel is pleasure.

Even while you’re unable to help the way your hips roll into his own, and unable to ignore the feral, sinful moans vibrating against your chest as he suckles the wound he made and drinks from you, you manage to continue insulting him.

“You’re so stupid, why the hell did you avoid me for two weeks huh?” A moan breaks up your complaint as he swipes his tongue in broad movements over the bite, his hips snapping into yours and pressing you further into the door. The wood creaks, but neither of you pay it any mind. You can barely function around the incredible sensation of his cock grinding against you through layers of clothing. “All you did was send mixed messages and piss me off and, ngh fuck–“

He pulls back enough that you can see the flush in his face, the feral gleam in his eyes and the smear of blood over swollen lips. His brows are furrowed, but he’s too besotted by the taste of you to have as much heat behind his glare as he did previously.

“There are some things you can’t take back,” he grits out, tongue coming to clean the red from his lips. Your heart stutters, pulse thudding in your ears. “Especially for my kind. If I didn’t stay away, I probably would have ended up doing one of those things.”

Your core positively throbs with need, clenching around nothing. The extent to which you want him right now has you more irritable than usual. “Satoru, I wouldn’t have let you drink from me if I wasn’t interested in everything else it would entail—“

“You don’t understand,” Satoru groans, freeing a hand to rip at the material of your shirt. Clawed fingertips slice through with ease, taking out the bra straps underneath as well. He makes quick work of the band beneath your chest and the underwear is then torn from your form and thrown somewhere in the background. The material of your top remains, and he yanks it down below your aching breasts, watching with rapt attention as they bounce free heavily. Barely allowing you time to moan, he lifts you higher in his arms and dives down to drag his teeth over the swollen globes. He nips and nibbles across the sensitive skin, eliciting all sorts of sounds from you and an unbearable amount of desire that shoots straight between your legs. You can feel slick arousal trickling from your aching cunt with each new miniscule bite Satoru delivers, but honestly at this point you’re too horny to be embarrassed.

“I already want everything you can give me, and more.” He bites the inside of your breast and the flesh gives easily beneath the razor-sharp point of his fangs. One of his hands comes to grip the other side of your chest while he laps and sucks at the blood welling in the wound. Your nipples are painfully hard and you feel like you could cry in relief when his long, nimble fingers begin to deliver them some much-needed attention. “I want every single part of you and I don’t want to share. This is the way I am built. I can’t do this with you again and let you go afterwards. I want you to be mine.”

You probably shouldn’t find that as romantic as you do, but aren’t really in a position to psycho-analyse your response right now. It’s not all that surprising, either, since you recall someone mentioning to you before how strongly vampires bond with their partner when they finally make their choice. As it happens, his confession serves to not only make your heart soar but your pussy throb. You’ve been pining for this man for years, so even amongst the haze of lust clouding your mind you don’t have to think about how to respond to it.

This is, after all, the solution you were hoping for two weeks ago.

“I don’t want you to let me go, or take anything back. Please bite me again, mark me up–” You pause to gasp, Satoru having shoved your skirt up to bunch around your hips. Your panties are gone a split-second later, likely discarded in the same manner as your bra, and the hand that was at your breast is now trailing your slit and gathering all the slick that has pooled there. His middle finger dips in, causing a stutter in your breath. You lean forward to whisper in his ear, snowy strands of hair tickling your cheeks as you do so. “And please, please fuck me, Satoru.”

Something snaps in him, and he doesn’t need to be told twice.

A feral snarl escapes him, a gravelly “fuck” the only warning you get before his teeth sink down just above your nipple, fangs retracting once blood wells to the surface, and he pulls both the wound and your stiffened peak into his mouth, sucking hard. There isn’t a single ounce of pain, only the white-hot pleasure that shoots to your clit and has you keening as a result, hands scrabbling for purchase along his broad shoulders. That free hand that was at your slit has made quick work of his pants and is now guiding his scalding member to slap against your clit, and then press against your entrance while you recover from the shock of pleasure.

You expected him to be well-endowed, and you’re not at all disappointed. Satoru’s cock is fat and long, and with one roll of his hips it spears right into you. There is no resistance, you’re far too aroused and wet for there to be any, but the feeling of being split open by such a monster quite literally knocks the breath out of you. You hardly recognise the noise that escapes you as one of your own, hands gripping the vampire’s hair and shoulder so tightly you’d be worried about hurting him if he was human. He isn’t, though, and without even noticing your grip continues drinking from you while latched to your breast, tongue pressing and rolling your aching nipple all the while.

A second is all you get to adjust to the foreign length inside you before Satoru rolls his hips back with a moan, the fat head of his cock dragging against your walls as he does so, and then slams it back in. He builds a rhythm immediately that is almost animalistic in its desperation and fervour, each thrust firm and hitting so deep inside that you honest to god think it has you seeing stars. Whines and moans tumble from your mouth, no longer able to be held back when the only thing your brain can comprehend is the sheer pleasure and ecstasy that burns and sparks along your limbs. He begins to hit a certain spot when he fucks up into your heat that has you clenching around him, slick gushing forth.

“FUCK.” He rips away from your chest to tilt his head back in a rough, stilted moan, his hands gripping and digging into the meat of your thighs where they melt into your ass. In the absence of his mouth, blood begins to dribble down the swell of your breast. His crystalline eyes are hazy and blown out in lust, brows drawn together and expression twisted in pleasure, his breath coming in pants. He is visibly barely holding it together, completely drunk on the taste and feel of you– and it simultaneously is the hottest and sweetest thing you’ve ever seen. “Yes, fuck, squeeze me just like that.”

You oblige, relishing in the full-body shiver that tears through him in response. He bites your name out amidst a tortured groan, hands shifting to your hips. His mouth returns to clean up the mess he left on your breast, lips latching around your nipple to suck and pull once more, and it’s almost enough to distract you from the way he suddenly begins to lift you by the hips and drop you back down on his cock in time with his thrusts. Almost. You have to bite back a scream at how fucking good it feels, the pressure and pace and just how full you feel. You can feel yourself rapidly beginning to come undone.

With the combination of his venom’s aphrodisiac effects and the sheer amount of time you’ve spent longing for this, you don’t imagine you’re going to last much longer. If the unforgiving pace of Satoru’s hips is anything to go by, you estimate the same to be the case for him.

He groans into your chest, releasing your breast to bounce in time with his thrusts, the action accompanied by an almost audible pop, and shifts his hold to free a hand. The pressure of two fingers against your clit has you crying out, body jerking at the sudden rush of pleasure – your head whips down to find him already looking at you, gaze swinging from the juncture of your thighs to your eyes. Evidently pleased by the expression he finds on your face, he continues his circling of your clit and leans his head down to trail kisses from your already-healing chest, up the column of your throat, across the line of your jaw, until he finally arrives at your lips.

“Mine,” he murmurs, lips brushing yours in a feather-light caress. His baby-blue eyes are lidded heavily and almost dazed, coherent thought lost to the throes of pleasure and his most simple instincts. He nicks your lip at the same time as he angles a particularly wonderful thrust, the head of his cock hitting against that spot that makes you see stars and release a loud, wanton cry. “You’re all mine.”

You pull back to nod rapidly, unable to form words when all you can think – all you can feel – is the throbbing pleasure of his cock splitting you open with each heavy thrust. His head follows, lips seeking your own once more. The kiss is hot, and needy, and his oversized canines scrape your bottom lip more than once, and yet all you can do is return the fervour in between moans and whines. His hand is still at work between your legs, and you feel in your bones that you’re really not going to last much longer at this rate.

Satoru releases your mouth with a final nip, and moves his head to nestle it in the juncture of your neck and shoulder. He groans, low and long, and the vibration turns to a shiver as it travels over your skin. His lips begin to move.

“Say it.”

You struggle to think let alone figure out what he wants, lost in the current of your rapidly approaching orgasm. His fingers pick up speed, aided by the generous amount of arousal still gushing from your pussy in between thrusts. It takes everything you have not to scream, your hips bucking.

“Say it,” he says again, an oddly uncertain note infiltrating his rumbling gasp. He utters your name while nosing at your throat and you feel yourself melt. “Please, say it.”

Realisation as to what he is looking for hits you at the same time as your orgasm. “Fuck! I’m– I’m yours, all yours! God, fuck—“

Satoru’s pace stutters, undone by your pussy clenching and throbbing around him in a fight to keep him inside, and it takes him a moment to recover before he begins to fuck into you again in earnest, movements growing sloppy and frantic but no less punishing. It all serves to prolong the wave of absolute bliss you’re riding in the wake of what has to be the strongest orgasm of your life. Those vampiric toxins are no joke.

You wind your arms around his neck, clutching him close and trying not to lose your mind as he fucks up into you, the drag of his cock against your walls somehow even more delicious than before. He mouths at your neck, hips beginning to stutter once more. You clench around him, and he breaks. There is barely enough time for a curse to escape his mouth before its clamping on your neck, teeth digging in deep— deeper than he’s ever bitten you before— and tingling heat spreading out from the puncture sites. He gives one, two, three final, dragging thrusts, body trembling and muscles taut, before his cock throbs and he buries it inside you, spilling into you with a deep, rumbling groan against your throat.

Soft, panting moans escape you as his hips continue to roll into you softly, riding out his orgasm, and you bite back a wanton groan as you feel his cum beginning to trickle out around his softening member. As soon as he comes back to his senses to a degree, he has the presence of mind to navigate the two of you to the bed before he loses strength in his legs, his mouth slipping from your neck after he laves his tongue over the wound to seal it. Unceremoniously, he drops the two of you against the mattress, but surprisingly keeps you snugly in his hold and his length still buried inside you. Ignoring how hot that is, you decide to view the action from a purely romantic light and nearly melt into the mattress.

Vaguely, you register the thumping club beats still booming beyond the confines of the room. Evidently the party was still ongoing.

“This wasn’t how I planned for today to go,” he admits, after a few beats of contented silence. He nuzzles his face to your chest, dragging his nose across your collarbone. “I was going to talk to you tomorrow morning.”

You snort; that’s likely.

“… This is how I planned for today to go, though.”

He huffs a laugh before pressing his lips together, clearly trying not to enable you further. He allows for another few moments to pass, and in that time you let your own eyes flutter closed.

“You can’t change your mind, by the way,” he says suddenly, tone odd. You open your eyes and turn to see his crystalline gaze directed to your neck, where the latest of his bite marks sits proudly. “I may have done one of those things I can’t take back.”

You’re not sure how to tell him it’s not as bad of a thing as he thinks it to be.

likes and reblogs are appreciated <3 lmk what you think!

[diejager]

Ok but like what about Wendigo reader? Maybe the team knows she's not exactly human but maybe in her file it just marked n/a and leaves it at that so they just assume that their sweet little medic is just a helpful spirit of some kind. Humans tend to give her a very wide birth since they seem to notice her as something they should leave the fuck alone, the boys just assume it's because of them always being near her and leave it at that. Till they're all on a mission and it all goes to shit, they're pinned down and then one of them ends up taking a bullet and reader just straight up fuckin losses it and next thing they know their is a 10 ft tall fuckin deer monster shredding bitches like their made of PAPER MACHE and EATING THEM, once the dust settles it moves towards them and slowly it shifts into their sweet medic but she is covered in blood and she just casually starts treating their wounds and the team is just like "Well mark me down as scared and horny" (if this makes no sense feel free to ignore)

Stag

Pairing: Monster 141 + Horangi & König x Wendigo!reader

Cw: cannibalism, human eating, greed, blood, canon-typical violence, tell me if I missed any. Wc: 2k (A/N): I felt a bit burnt out so I’m sorry if it’s bad, I reread it just in case, but it still feels bad.

They say that human greed is the source of evil, the all-consuming hunger for more —more than they need. Hunger drives humans to do the unspeakable, to break the line humanity had drawn and commit the taboo. Despite it being carved so deeply into the human psyche, passed down from generation to generation and the propaganda of humanism and equality, it doesn’t take much to make someone tip over, cross the edge nobody dared to and perform the unspeakable. Possession causes needs and needs cause greed.

That’s why people called to him for help, to carry out a clandestine mission to do their dirty work, his duty was to stop whatever men in power started, whatever men in power lost control —he was the one sent when they were scared. Fear was as coercive as power was. That was the reason Task Force 141 was first founded, to stop dangerous men like Hassan (Gaz remembered hearing from Soap that Ghost shot Hassan through the head, straight through him before he slumped down.) and Makarov, a man they were still searching for while signing a liaison contract with KorTac. Price, with Laswell’s help, managed to put the best of the best together: a wraith, a werewolf, a dragon, a harpy, a nagual and a cadejos vessel, all decorated with various medals for their work, and then there was you.

You were a mystery, even to Price who usually had clearance for anyone who joined them. Gaz knew, from a single glance, that you were far from human, you were a monster like Ghost was, turned after an occasion, or a hybrid like him. Surprisingly, Ghost seemed to welcome you warmly, albeit standoffish, having worked with you in the past, seeing that you both preferred working alone. Gaz wanted to show you the same heartwarming welcome as Ghost had, but there was something about you, an uneasiness he felt when he was around you. The others felt it as well, the innate need to keep their distance from you and the instinctual fear that had the hairs on their arms raised. Gaz could feel your eyes whenever you stared at him, like the eyes of a predator stalking its prey —it made him feel perturbed.   

You seemed so human, yet so inhuman-like, your dull, thousand-yard stare, your inability to feel temperature (either cold or warm, you always wore the same clothes), your odd habits and your unusual calmness in every situation. Gaz had caught you staring at a private for much longer than what people considered normal, eyes glazed over and dilated as if you were seeing something else, daydreaming while being aware of your surroundings. Those were your moments, you were usually bubbly, always smiling at him whenever his eyes met yours or treating him with gentleness and always eager to help him. You had a softness to your being despite the eerie feel to you and your unique tendencies, you didn’t discriminate, nor did you show an ounce of hate towards hybrids and humans, treating everyone fairly. 

Although you tried to fit in as best as you could, there were things that Gaz and the others just couldn’t shake off without questioning things. There was the lingering scent of blood on you, a metallic tang that stuck on his tongue after you walked by. König and Soap had confessed that they had a feeling that blood was a part of your scent, unwashable and impossible to hide, it clung to you like a second skin. They chalked it up to you being the Task Force’s medic, having brought people back from the brink of death and stitching men back together, you were practically bathed in the smell of blood and death every day. 

Another thought was that they never saw you in the Mess hall for food, perhaps a cup of tea or a hot mug of coffee to boost you through a long shift in the infirmary as the base’s main medic if you weren’t deployed with them. Gaz never saw you eat, not once had he seen you hold a plate or bowl with substance for yourself. You would bring either of them a plate, caring for them whenever they were under your watch, giving them soup or anything that they could easily digest. 

Gaz, Soap, Rudy and Horangi would chatter about you, throwing speculations on your breed, to see what hybrid or monster fit all your characteristics. You couldn’t be a wraith, your hands weren’t painted with death, a dark miasma that clung to you. You weren’t a werewolf, Soap would know, wolves were able to smell and recognize each other, it was an instinctual aspect of him. You weren’t any shifting hybrid either, there would be signs, little cues if you were one, and your classification wouldn’t be classified, painted over with a red line. 

All they could was wonder and amble around with curiosity dripping from their tongues. Gaz was sure that he’d find out soon enough, whether it was an accident or your choice.

This wasn’t what Gaz meant by eventually, he didn’t mean being set up by Konni, a trap planted for them in the small Belgium town. It was the best set to box them in, a broken and ransacked ghost town that people fled from, walls greyed and cracked, the paint peeling off street lights and rusted metal poles, lost, forgotten and open. There didn’t have any cover, even if they ran and hid behind the crumbling walls, Konni had them surrounded on every end, concealed behind concrete walls and using the shadows to hide from sight. 

It was chaotic, Konni had pushed them into an open area of the town, the centrepiece of it with a dilapidated, Greek fountain, chipped on the sides and green with mould, Gaz would’ve admired the architecture and the beauty it must’ve been in the past when it was still being cared for. They were backed up in a corner, Gaz couldn’t even stretch his wings out with how tightly they were packed together, the uncomfortable pull of his trapezius and the strain in his limbs kept him grounded. The tension was thick, palpable, Gaz could taste it in the air as much as anyone could, their shoulders tense, fingers tapping the trigger of their rifles. All they could do was wait for Konni to act first, to see where they would appear from and work their way out of this open area from there. 

He had his back towards you, he couldn’t see you but he could feel you shake. It might’ve been from the adrenaline pumping through your veins or the nerve of being lied to, of falling into a trap when Ghost had voiced his suspicions about the lack of clearer intel. They were paying for their amateurism. He felt you shudder, breath stuttering, near panting with exhaustion. Gaz wanted to turn to you, words soothing your nerves and twitchy appearance, he acted letting drown in your mind, whatever it was, he hated it. His finger twitched on the trigger, jolting at the sudden crack of bones, an ugly and painful sound that made him wince. It shocked everyone, even the ever so silent and stoic Ghost who had a hard time hearing these cracks coming from you.

Damn this mission; damn the trap; damn this situation, Gaz needed to look at you, to see why your bones were breaking and limbs rattling. Instinctively, his wings shifted to cover you, the ends widening to cover your sides to protect you from whatever pained you, yet you didn’t let out a single squeak, no moan of pain or the grunt of suffering, you were silent. A part of his mind nagged at him to move, he could fly and try to outrun Konni mercenaries to find a way out, but then he’d leave your back open. He cursed lowly, teeth sinking into his lower lip in frustration, he was-

A loud screech thundered through the air, and screams and squelches followed it. You were missing. 

You were shaking just a second ago, body wracked with some unknown ailment and the next, you were missing, your sack, attire, rifle and helmet were scattered on the ground, with a bony creature tearing through Konni ranks. The hair on his neck rose, an uneasy feeling overtaking him as he watched the creature rip men in half, tines stabbing through their torso like a buck fighting another, head lowered and antlers pointed forward. He watched the tall and thin monster move around, its face was one of a deer’s skull, eaten clean of skin and flesh, any muscle or fibre gone with whatever transformation it took. A crown of antler adorned its head, tall and imposing, as pale as its skull, a coat of black fur was wrapped around the neck, draping down the back like a ridge of fur. 

“Fuck,” Gaz hissed, his body moving along the chaos the being created and your disappearance, he aimed his rifle and shot at the Russians who ran out of their hiding, fearful of the monster’s sudden arrival behind their ranks. “Captain! Is that-?”

“Don’t know anymore!” Price seemed to be as lost as Gaz was, reining in his confusion to focus on taking Konni out. “Keep your head in the game, Gaz; ask questions later.”

Gaz knew Price was right, the town was brimming with Russian ultranationalists, hiding and waiting for their time to jump at them. The situation was still chaotic, but it was better than being without cover. Gaz followed Horangi behind a wall, watching his back while they worked through the humans.

Somehow, Konni either retreated or were all dead, swallowed down by the beast that stood before them. Now that Gaz was standing so close to it - to you, after a few minutes of talking back and forth, they concluded that this was you from the pants that hung from your slim hips - he could see that the deer skull was just a mask covering your face, black and unidentifiable with those bright, gleaming eyes that stared down at him. Despite your curved back, bent to look at them, you towered over everyone, even König seemed small beside you, limbs almost as long as you, fingers tipped with blood that you were still licking off, a long tongue wrapped around your digit to clean yourself from blood, muscle and guts. 

You were casually cleaning yourself up like a cat washing, even in the aircraft, you were gorging on the body of a man you picked up, jaw opening to show them the dozen of teeth before you clamped down on the forearm, tearing into the muscle with famished intent. None of them could take their eyes off you, their sweet, smiley medic who sometimes had their moments, devouring a man without batting an eye, obliviously uncaring of their staring. Gaz wasn’t sure if he knew how he felt, a warmth building up in his chest, a heat that seared into the fibres of his beings like an infectious thing. All they did was watch you eat, no one speaking until you finished your meal.

“Mind tell us what happened, Hunter?” 

You perked up, blinking at Price owlishly, tongue lolling out to lick up the stray drop of blood that stuck on your skull’s teeth. Your chest rumbled, a soft growl rolling off your body while you tilted your head, you acted so much like a feline, grooming, reacting and moving like a curious cat, dangerous, yet so appealing. 

“Wendigo,” you rasped, voice breathy and weak, you spoke in broken English, unable to speak fluently after turning, “Curse, eat human.”

Your little mannerism, the small tilt of your head and your fumbling hands, seemingly embarrassed or ashamed after your show of ruthless hunger and savagery was… eye-opening. Something stewed inside him, your being creating a ripple in his heart, pulling at the hunger in the depth of his gut. He was torn by the fear of having you as the potential enemy and the arousal of seeing you break men in half, painting the ground in crimson and guts, and satiating your hunger - craving - with human and monster flesh. 

Gaz was fucked, both in the head and the situation. 

Taglist: @craxy-person @crowbird @dead-cipher @iwannabealocalcryptid @iizx7y @mxtokko @yeetusspagheetus @capricorn-anon @perfectus-in-morte @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973 @angelcakes-22 @cassiecasluciluce @ramadiiiisme @ramblingsofachaoticthinker @ki-cant-spel @im-making-an-effort @love-dove-noora @jinxxangel13 @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @mul-pi @danielle143 @virginalsacrifice

[starsinmylatte]

Be Our Girl?

If you saw Tumblr immediately flag this, no, you didn't.

This is the first request I received as part of my JJK Fic Readers Supporting Noury event. There are still slots open, so please click the link for more info!

Thank you to @enchantedsylveon for their support and the wonderful request 💜. I went way over the word count because I got possessed by the spirit of horny. Forgive me 😅

Pairing: Geto x Gojo x afab!reader (aka SatoSugu x afab!reader) Rating: Explicit (18+ minors DNI) Word Count: 6.8k Request: Morally grey, obsessive pleasure doms Gojo and Geto take care of their girl while she's on her period.

Click here to join my taglist!

Warnings are found below the cut!

A/N: This is my first time writing a threesome AND my first time writing for both of these characters....... So, Leeeeeroy Jenkins!

Warnings (besides what it says on the request): Use of pet names (princess, baby, etc), references to mental health issues, multiple sex positions, dacryphilia, cursing, multiple orgasms, slight overstimulation, cum eating, banter during sex, breeding kink, cervix fucking, deepthroating, praise and light degradation, y'all get the gist this is some filth (affectionate)

It was early one morning, far too early for any sane person to be awake as you sat on a couch, trapped between your two long-time friends. On one end of the couch, Satoru Gojo pouted and stared out the nearby window, nursing a can of soda like it was hard liquor. Geto Suguru occupied the other end, glaring at the wall like he wanted to burn a hole through it. He was doing his damnedest to avoid paying his best friend any attention as you sat between the two men, grumbling under your breath. You were unlucky enough to be quite literally in the middle of their dispute. 

The two young men had been fighting so much recently, and it had honestly hurt your heart to see. Their bickering had affected their efforts in school, nearly destroyed both of their mental health, and strained their relationship to a breaking point. Shoko had advised you to leave it alone, saying the boys needed to figure it out on their own or just fuck already, but as their other best friend, you just couldn’t take much more of it. Especially when Satoru made a habit of coming over at three A.M. to complain about Suguru. 

Funnily enough, that was precisely what had led to the current situation. Satoru had shown up, knocked so hard that he nearly broke your door down in the process, and shoved his way inside your apartment despite your many protests. 

Now, there were multiple reasons why his visit was horribly timed. The first would’ve been immediately evident if the strongest sorcerer wasn’t so preoccupied. You were wincing in pain when you answered the door, clutching a hot water bottle to your lower stomach, and Gojo had been too oblivious to notice. He simply brushed past you, already ranting as he headed directly for your plush couch. 

“‘Toru, wait-“ 

“That emo bastard can’t get it through his thick skull that we’re supposed to be friends. He-” Satoru paused mid-rant as the emo bastard in question sat up on your couch, groaning. Suguru had been fast asleep until now, and the raven-haired man looked pissed that he had been woken up. 

The deep circles under Suguru’s eyes had only grown more exaggerated in the past few days, and his long, beautiful raven hair was a tangled mess. You could see the weariness he carried creep under his skin more and more, and it honestly terrified you. Suguru had confided in you that he could barely sleep anymore, and like the good friend you were, you offered for him to sleep on your couch, hoping the proximity to a close friend would help ease his mind. 

“You’d better be talking about someone else,” Suguru hissed at Gojo, dark eyes flashing with anger as you slammed the heel of your hand against your head.

“I can already feel another migraine coming,” you muttered under your breath. “‘Satoru, as I was trying to say, you may want to come back later because I. already. have. company.”

You punctuated your words with brief pauses, not even bothering to try and hide the annoyance in your tone.  Gojo pursed his lips dramatically, rolling his eyes. He immediately turned on his heel to leave, but you beat him to the door. “Oh, no. You didn’t listen to me, so you get to stay. I am not in the mood for this to be a revolving door today.”  

He opened his mouth to argue, but one look from you silenced him. You motioned for Geto to scoot over on the couch, and the sleep-deprived man shot you an incredulous look as Gojo pilfered a soda from your fridge. 

Nearly thirty minutes of awkward silence had passed between the three of you on the couch before you’d finally had enough. You had been trying to be a good, patient friend, but this morning was the absolute last straw.  For half of the previous night, you’d been curled up in a ball with the most abysmal cramps, completely unable to sleep. Finally, after what had felt like an eternity, you had drifted off… only to be woken up by Gojo thirty minutes later. Your cramps were still coming in awful waves, and no medication was helping. You simply wanted to melt into the floor, but you were being forced to babysit two of the strongest jujutsu sorcerers who had ever lived while they behaved like petulant children. 

A particularly harsh cramp had you gritting your teeth, barely able to speak as you forced two words past your lips. “That’s enough.” 

Both of your companions’ heads whipped around, and you felt the weight of two completely different gazes. One was ice-cold, and the second felt like scorched earth; they were polar opposites, but each held the same intense gravity. 

“The two of you are going to talk this out. This all passed ridiculous a long time ago.” You continued, gesturing around dramatically with one hand, holding up the other to silence the noises of protest that left both men. Your throat felt dry and raw with anger. All of the frustration and pain in your body had coalesced into a single, white-hot ball of emotion, which was currently clawing its way out of your throat with a vengeance. 

“I’m not finished. Geto Suguru, I want you to feel better, but you have to open up to us. If you keep all your emotions bottled up, you’re going to go insane one day and start a cult or something.” 

Geto looked down at his folded hands, clearly a bit stunned by your outburst. Normally, something like this would’ve never happened. You were always such a caring, sweet girl, and you had never lost your temper in front of either man. Both Gojo and Geto instantly knew that they’d fucked up for you to be this viscerally angry and use their full names at the same time. You had never called them anything other than their first names for the many years you’d been friends.

“And you, Gojo Satoru, need to calm down and try to understand your best friend more. The two of you need to actually talk. You’ve just expected Suguru to come to you for help all this time, but you could also reach out first.” Gojo had the decency to blush in embarrassment, setting his soda can down on a coaster while you scolded him.

You stood rather abruptly, intending to leave the two men to sulk while you crawled back into your warm bed, but you forgot about one very important thing in your addled state. The hot water bottle was still on your lap, and it hit the floor with a loud clang the second you stood. Water splashed everywhere, finally catching the attention of both men. Gojo’s icy gaze met Geto’s earthen one as the full situation finally clicked in their heads, and they shared a look that clearly read “oh shit.” 

The loss of the water bottle’s comforting warmth was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Fat, hot tears started to roll down your cheeks as you felt your uterus violently contract again. You doubled over, and both men stood, rushing to your side as you cried out in pain, fully sobbing.

“You’re making all of us worry, especially me. I just can’t keep listening to my two best friends complain about each other instead of talking through their problems, and I feel horrible right now, and I just-” 

Geto ran a comforting hand down your back. “Shit. Shhh… We’re sorry for making you worry. Right, Satoru?” 

Gojo sighed as the raven-haired man stared at him pointedly. “He’s right, we’re very sorry. C’mere, let’s get you back into bed.” 

He held his arms out as you sniffled, wiping at your eyes. With one swift motion, Gojo scooped you up in his arms as Suguru quickly towled up the water on the floor. Somewhere deep in your mind, you realized that you could feel Satoru’s warm skin against yours; he had turned off Infinity for you. He cradled you for a few precious minutes, purring soft reassurances against your ear that had you relaxing into his arms. 

“S’ alright. I’ve got you.” 

Suguru rolled his eyes and finished cleaning in almost record time. He pushed his friend toward your room, entering first to scoop your sheets aside and plug in your big heating pad. Gojo laid you down on the soft mattress, and you immediately snuggled up underneath the sheets. Another sharp stab of pain made you wince, and the two men shared another pointed look and a collective sigh, finding enough truce in their argument to climb into the bed on either side of you. 

Geto passed the heating pad to Gojo, who gently placed it against your lower stomach before pulling you against his chest. You clung to him happily, nuzzling into his warmth. However, this new position also made you oblivious to the way Geto’s eyes flashed in frustration at the sight. 

The raven-haired man pulled your back against his chest in retaliation, splaying a possessive hand over your hip as Gojo smirked at him. You murmured in appreciation, unconsciously shifting to lay against them equally as you drifted off into a deep, dreamless sleep.  Geto and Gojo locked eyes and finally relaxed, seemingly arriving at some unspoken agreement. They joined you in a deep, comfortable sleep, and it was by far the best sleep any of you had gotten in months. 

The three of you only grew closer after that night. It had only taken a week for Gojo and Geto to patch up their relationship, and they emerged with a stronger bond than before. When Shoko asked about the change, the boys cheerfully credited your period-induced breakdown as the catalyst that led them to reconcile. Gojo would grin cheekily, the action only mirrored by his raven-haired counterpart’s self-satisfied smirk as the two repeated the very same answer to everyone else who asked. They also pointedly ignored how you blushed and stammered at them, “Please, stop telling everyone about that.” 

“No can do, sweetheart.” Satoru winked at you over the rim of his dark glasses before sighing dramatically, poking at your soft, pouting cheeks, “Besides, where would we be without you? You put us in our place, so you deserve all the credit.”

Geto chuckled, a darkly amused glint in his eyes as he placed his large hand on your shoulder, squeezing gently. “You’re right. We both need our girl to keep us straight.”

–

Time flew by as the three of you graduated and rejoined Tokyo Jujutsu High as young teachers. Life was… interesting; some things had changed for you, but many things still stayed the same. For one thing, you, Satoru, and Suguru were still incredibly close. Even though there were always missions to complete, students to educate, and monsters to kill, the three of you made time to spend together. 

Quite often, your “quality time” with the two men was spent in the form of a massive movie night at your apartment. There had been many discussions about moving it to Gojo’s ritzy new place, but the routine was already too ingrained in the three of you. So, every other weekend, you all piled on top of your plush sofa to watch cheesy movies, cycling through picks from every genre imaginable until everyone fell asleep. 

However, as much as you enjoyed the tradition, you had almost canceled tonight’s marathon. The worst part of your period was supposed to be over by now, but the heavy cramping hadn’t let up at all.

“Those two better be glad I love them so much,” you muttered, blushing slightly as you caught your accidental choice of words. 

Love? No, I don’t love those two. We’re just friends. Really good friends. 

Thoughts continued to whirl around your head as you hurriedly tidied up your living room and small kitchen, preparing everything for the night. No, you most definitely weren’t in love with both of your best friends at the same time. You were so good at ignoring how the two men had only grown more handsome and attentive to you since their big argument, and you definitely never imagined them taking you to bed….

By the time you had nearly convinced yourself that denial was just a river in Egypt, there was a cheerful knock at the door. The knock lasted for all of two seconds before Satoru pushed it open, grinning widely. The white-haired man still wore his blindfold but had traded his usual all-black uniform for a pair of suspiciously designer-looking grey sweatpants and a soft, black t-shirt.

“I brought treats!” He chimed, setting his armful of baked goods and sweets on the counter.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “‘Toru, did you rob a small bakery? You know you’re the only one who will eat most of it.” 

He noticed how you greedily eyed a bar of dark chocolate, snatching it up and waving it at you teasingly, “Oh, so you want me to take it back, then?” 

You pouted, trying to reach for the bar as Satoru weaponized his height against you. He held the chocolate just out of reach, and you jumped, almost brushing the very edge of the wrapper. You landed awkwardly, stumbling backward into something- no, someone- very solid. A rich, amused chuckle tickled your ear as Suguru caught you, reaching up to pluck the bar from Gojo’s hand as his hand cupped your hip. 

“Having fun without me, already?” 

“‘Toru’s being mean,” you complained as Suguru passed the sweet to you with a snide grin directed at the other man. 

“Fine,” he sighed dramatically, removing his blindfold to wink at you. “I’ve wounded our princess so she can have the first movie pick tonight. 

Your heart twisted and fluttered in your chest at the use of that pet name and the sight of his gorgeous cerulean eyes, but you shoved that feeling aside as quickly as it appeared. 

“I can forgive you… this time.” 

“And you can make the first batch of popcorn,” Suguru added, his signature sly smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. 

“I’ll make sure to burn yours,” Gojo grumbled in response, heading for the kitchen as Suguru herded you toward the couch. 

You plopped down onto the middle of the couch, and Geto settled to your left, promptly handing you the chunky knit blanket you favored. Funnily enough, the arrangement the three of you sat in was as much of a tradition as the movie night itself; you were always in the middle of the two men. The three of you were always sandwiched together, but that didn’t make you flustered. Jujutsu sorcery took such a high mental toll that you had long figured any cuddling was strictly platonic. 

Geto looped his arm around your waist, pulling you close, and you almost sighed in happiness as you caught the comforting scent of sandalwood soap and incense that always surrounded him. You tipped your head against his shoulder, smiling contentedly and nibbling into the chocolate bar as the two of you flipped through movies, looking for the perfect one. Gojo cursed loudly in the other room, and you giggled at the loud banging coming from the stove. 

A few hours later, you finally got to Geto’s pick: a cheesy B-grade horror movie. Bags of candy and popcorn lay strewn over the coffee table as the three of you watched the final girl run from yet another masked killer. You had excused yourself to the bathroom half an hour ago to take some medicine and change into a fresh pad, but your cramps stubbornly refused to give up. The last thing you wanted to do was ruin the night, so you suffered in silence, silently wincing in pain every few minutes. 

Geto and Gojo shared a look as they felt your body tense for the umpteenth time, and the raven-haired man clicked pause on the remote while his counterpart rubbed tiny circles over the small of your back. 

“What is it?” Suguru asked, his voice and expression both filled with concern. 

“Nothing, really. I’m fine.” You tried to reassure both men, but they gazed at you, unimpressed and clearly not buying your story. 

“We know you well enough to know that’s not true.” Gojo gazed at you, suddenly more serious than he’d been all night. Geto squeezed your shoulder gently, and both men scooted even closer to you, clearly unwilling to let it go. 

“Fine,” you grumbled. “I’m on my period, and my cramps are really bad right now. I didn’t want to say anything because I didn’t want tonight to end yet, even though I don’t feel well.” 

Geto’s gaze softened, and Gojo laughed quietly, “You know we couldn’t leave our girl when she’s in pain.” 

Your cheeks flushed hotly at Satoru’s words. 

“You know I’ll never get a boyfriend if you keep calling me that.”

The words left your lips before you could even think about what you were saying; the temperature in the room instantly felt ten degrees colder. Suguru’s deep, coffee-colored gaze narrowed instantly, and Gojo tipped his head down to look you in the eyes, his pale irises shining almost eerily in the dim light. 

“Do you not… want to be our girl?” Suguru leaned down to whisper against the shell of your ear, his voice a velvet purr that made you shudder. You felt both men hold you tighter, their grip infinitely more possessive; Geto nipped at the shell of your ear lightly, drawing a small moan out of you. 

“Sugu…. I….. mmmmph..” 

Gojo traced a finger underneath your chin, tilting your eyes to meet his calm gaze. The new angle of your neck gave Geto the perfect angle to kiss up and down the column of your neck, which he promptly took advantage of, ghosting his lips across the sensitive skin. You shuddered, whimpering slightly as Satoru held your face still in one of his large, calloused hands. 

“He asked you a question, baby,” Satoru crooned, a smirk tugging at the corner of his unfairly perfect lips. 

Embarrassment mixed with growing lust dusted your cheeks, and your eyelashes fluttered in sync with every sinful drag of Geto’s lips against your skin. Your head was growing fuzzy, yet your body felt light as a feather as you relaxed between the two large men. Any thought of your previous pain had faded away in a sea of bliss and disbelief until another vicious cramp tore through your abdomen. You jolted upright, worry flashing in your eyes. The two men paused immediately, backing off to let you speak. 

“Even if I do want this…. We can’t right now. I’m….” You trailed off in embarrassment, staring down at the hem of your shirt. 

“Do you think so little of us, sweetheart? You think we’re frightened by a little blood? Geto crooned, and Gojo grinned in response, gasping in mock indignation.  

You shook your head slightly, stammering in protest. “I-I don’t think you’re afraid of it, just that ‘s gross.” 

Gojo caressed your cheek with his thumb, and Geto nuzzled his nose against the crook of your neck in reassurance. “Nothing about you could ever be gross; what you’re going through is the most natural thing in the world.” The raven-haired man murmured. 

“And b-both of you want me?” You responded in a daze. 

“Yeah. It’s been that way for years,” Satoru smiled, unashamedly staring at the swell of your slightly parted lips as you gasped in response. 

“It’s been the three of us for our entire lives, and you kept it that way. I don’t see why it should ever change,” Geto added with a low note of amusement. He caressed your waist, and another shudder ran down your spine. “You’ve been ours for years… we’ve just been waiting for you to realize it. Let us take care of you, baby. You’ve done so much for us.” 

Every nerve ending of your body crackled like a live wire as the two men waited with bated breath for your response. Your mind whirled as you tried to string together an actual sentence. Finally, you were able to moan a single word. “Please…”

The effect it had on the two men was instantaneous. Suguru groaned, reattaching his lips to your neck and pulling you back into his lap. Your back hit his broad, muscular chest, and you melted against him instantly. 

“Fuck, you have no idea how long we’ve waited for this…. How many men we’ve chased off because they didn’t deserve you.” Satoru mumbled, surging forward to claim your lips with his own, pinning you against the other man. The kiss started out soft but quickly grew more insistent as you moaned and whimpered every time Suguru grazed your decolletage with his teeth. He started to pull the neck of your shirt aside for better access to more skin, and you writhed in his arms as he left bruises in the wake of his lips. 

At any other time, you would’ve questioned Satoru’s confession, but right now, you felt hot, almost delirious with budding desire, as he reached down to trail his fingers over your clothed pussy. He rubbed directly over your little clit, but the pleasure you craved was muted by the thick added layer of your pad, and you whined in protest. “‘Toru, need you s’badly.”

“You hear that? Our princess needs you, Satoru.” Geto purred as the other man continued tracing the outline of your pussy. 

You rocked your hips against his fingers, desperate to feel more, but you only succeeded in teasing Suguru as you accidentally rocked your ass directly against his rapidly growing erection.

He hissed loudly, trailing one of his hands under your shirt to cup your bare waist. Gojo chuckled at the sight of his best friend’s suffering, sucking on your bottom lip before pulling away with an audible pop. “Careful now, or you’re gonna make it hard for him to last.” 

“Oh, fuck off.” Suguru groaned in response, trailing his hand up to paw at your breast. You whined as he lightly pinched and rolled a nipple between his clever fingers, and the raven-haired man chuckled roughly, “Look at how dirty our girl is, not even wearing a bra. She’s so damn sensitive.” 

Your pussy throbbed at his words as Gojo leaned back, kneeling on the couch to watch the show you and Geto were putting on in front of him. Your gaze was half-lidded and hazy with lust, but you could still clearly see the way the muscles of his arm flexed as he reached down to palm his own erection. It stood proud, visibly tenting the dark grey sweatpants he wore, and your mouth watered at the mere outline of his dick. It looked so long and thick, and you could only imagine the bliss of it stuffing you and dragging against your deepest, most sensitive parts. 

He brushed a strand of white hair off his face, looking at you with another cocky smirk as he addressed the other man. “Oi, help me out here, Suguru. I seem to remember something about cramps… I think they’re improved by medicine, a heating pad, or something else. Now, what could that be?” 

Gojo paused for a clear, dramatic effect, his wolfish grin only growing wider as your breath caught in your throat. You were so distracted that you didn’t even realize Geto’s lips had trailed back up to your ear as he responded in a dulcet whisper, “I think the answer might be ‘they’re improved by orgasms.’ What do you think, pretty?”

“Yes, god yes,” you begged, rubbing your thighs together. The dull ache of your period had faded away into the haze of lust, but your pussy throbbed, begging to be filled.

Satoru winked at you, leaving the couch and walking into your bedroom for a moment. You whimpered as he left, and Geto chuckled again at your reaction, giving your nipple another rough pinch. “There’s no god here, baby, just us. But we’re gonna do you so good… Gonna ruin you for anyone else.”

You lay against his chest as Suguru pushed your shirt all the way up, tucking the hem between your teeth to give himself full, unimpeded access to your chest. He maneuvered the two of you around slightly, leaving you in his lap but allowing both of your legs to dangle off the edge of the couch. “Let’s give Satoru something to look at when he comes back, hmm? Bet he’d love to see these perfect tits.” 

He took each of your breasts into his warm hands, alternating between kneading the soft, supple flesh and pinching your aching nipples. You could only moan softly through the fabric of the shirt stuffed in your mouth as Geto took you higher and higher into bliss with every movement. 

Gojo walked back in not a minute later, holding a few fluffy, black towels. His beautiful eyes widened at the perfectly pornographic scene spread out in front of him, and he cursed under his breath, rushing back to the couch as Geto smirked at his best friend’s needy expression. 

“Careful, or he’s not gonna last long,” he teased, tugging off your shirt as he parodied Gojo’s earlier sentiment. 

The white-haired man huffed and shook his head sarcastically, but you certainly didn’t miss the way he threw his own shirt off and knelt between your legs as quickly as he could. His eyes were shining with ravenous desire, and your pussy throbbed as you realized that Geto’s teasing had an edge of truth. 

Gojo smiled up at you, tucking a towel between your hips and Geto’s lap before hooking his hands into the waistband of your pants, gently tugging them down and tossing them away. 

“Gonna let me taste you, baby?” He keened, pressing open-mouthed kisses against the inside of your thighs as his long fingers toyed with the hem of your panties. 

You bit your lip as a million worries flooded your mind, but Suguru caressed your face, whispering conspiratorially, “Think about how pretty he’s gonna look between your legs. He can finally put that smartass mouth of his to good use, right?” 

Satoru nibbled his way up your skin, sucking a dark hickey at the apex of your thigh as Geto continued to lavish your breasts with affection. You whined and moaned, keening with every touch. It felt like your entire body was on fire, and you’d go up in flames without the touch of both men. Any embarrassment you could’ve felt had long since evaporated; all you could do was beg for more as both men left their mark on your body. 

“‘Toru, please… Wanna cum so bad.” You whined, begging for relief, and Gojo glanced up at you with an expression that would’ve terrified anyone else. He may have been in a traditionally submissive position, but there was nothing submissive about his body language; he looked like a fallen angel with the way his pale hair framed his face.  

He slipped your panties off, breathing becoming heavier and heavier as all of your perfect body was finally revealed to his ravenous gaze. Satoru threw your legs around his shoulders, leaning back just enough to inspect your cunt. His pale eyelashes fluttered as he used one of his long fingers to part your puffy, swollen folds, completely mesmerized as you moaned his name and your cunt clenched in sheer anticipation of his touch. You were obscenely wet from the mixture of blood and arousal that trailed down your legs, and Gojo couldn’t wait any longer. 

“Our girl’s got a perfect fucking pussy, Suguru,” He mumbled, diving in to lick a fat stripe all the way up to your clit. You moaned wantonly, your head lolling back against Geto’s strong chest as the man behind you held your body upright, still enamored with the way your breasts fit in his hands. 

Period sex was very new to you, but you could already tell that it felt different- not different, better. You felt more sensitive than ever before, and not just between your legs. Your breasts felt heavy and full; you had a sneaking suspicion that you could’ve cum from Geto toying with them alone. 

Gojo’s eyes fluttered shut in bliss as he ate you out like a man starved. He lapped up every bit of arousal and blood from your weeping pussy, fucking you with his tongue before trailing delicious circles on your swollen clit with his tongue until you screamed his name. Your thighs wrapped around Satoru’s head, and the white-haired man moaned desperately, taking the opportunity to slip two fingers deep into your cunt. You keened at the delicious stretch, and Suguru groaned at the sight. 

“T-Toru… Ah-! Sugu….” Tears of pure bliss started to gather in the corners of your eyes as Satoru’s fingers rubbed mercilessly against your G-spot. You felt a familiar band of pleasure start to stretch in your lower stomach, and you whined in desperation. Suguru grabbed one of your arms, pressing desperate kisses against the delicate skin of your inner wrist as his other hand toyed with a nipple in time with Satoru’s thrusts.

“S’close.. Nnnnngh, gonna cum… pleasepleaseplea-” The band of pleasure snapped suddenly before you could even finish your sentence, launching you over the edge of the most intense orgasm of your life. Tears fell as you shattered in between the two men, crying and rocking your hips against Satoru’s face while your core fluttered around his fingers. 

“You’re fucking perfect,” Suguru growled as he scooped you up. He cradled you in his arms and leaned down to kiss you as Satoru stood, licking the blood and cum off his fingers. 

The taller man grinned as the two of you kissed passionately, leaning over to wipe a tear off your cheek. 

“Baby, you cryin'?” Satoru simpered before leaning in to lick off another tear. When Suguru pulled away to tell him off, Satoru pulled him into a searing kiss, slotting his tongue into the other man’s mouth. Geto’s eyes flared in shock before he leaned into the embrace, moaning as he tasted your arousal on his best friend’s tongue. 

“I thought you deserved a taste, too. Isn’t she sweet?” Gojo asked innocently as he pulled away to kiss you as well. You whined and ran your hand over his bare chest as the white-haired man nipped at your already kiss-swollen bottom lip. 

“Bedroom. Now.” Geto stood abruptly, his voice hoarse as he broke the embrace between you and Gojo. He carried you in his arms, shoving another large towel on top of your sheets before gently laying you on top of it. Your head lolled to the side, and you reached down to play with your puffy little clit, moaning softly as the men finished undressing in front of you. 

You watched shamelessly, taking in the sight of their beautiful bodies. Both men were tall and muscular, but Satoru was taller with more of a lean build, almost like an acrobat or a swimmer. Suguru was truly the Yin to Gojo’s Yang; he was stockier and deliciously broad. It was an undeniable fact that both men were gorgeous.

“Sugu… Toru…. Please. Wanna feel you both in me,” You begged, rocking your hips against the movement of your fingers, not even caring about how needy you sounded. 

The bed dipped with their weight as both men joined you on the bed without further hesitation. Geto knelt in front of you, motioning for you to get on all fours and face him. You hummed in delight, rolling over and pushing yourself up to face him. Suddenly, Gojo pinched your plush ass with a snicker. You gasped in shock, and Suguru took the opportunity to slap his thick cockhead onto your tongue. 

“We’re gonna fuck you raw from both ends first, baby. Gonna really make you ours. How’s that sound?” He questioned with a smirk, rubbing his fat tip over your tongue. 

Your gasp quickly turned into a purr of delight as you worked his tip into your mouth, greedily licking at the prominent vein that ran underneath his shaft. Geto’s raven-dark hair fell around his shoulders like a curtain as he moaned loudly. You could taste the salt and musk of his pre-cum as you worked his shaft deeper and deeper into your throat. 

Gojo cursed lowly as he lined up his swollen cockhead with your opening. You wiggled your hips back at him, wordlessly begging to feel the stretch and delicious length of him deep inside you. He pushed in at an agonizingly slow pace, trying to give you time to adjust. 

You moaned in ecstasy, and Geto gasped, bucking his hips slightly as he felt the vibrations of your throat around his shaft. “Fucking hell, baby. You’re sucking my dick like you were made for it.”

Gojo pushed in further, finally bottoming out with his fat cockhead nestled snugly against your cervix. You whined at the dull ache, but the feeling was addictive. You rocked your hips, desperate for more, and the white-haired man moaned. “And she’s sucking me in like she wants to get pregnant tonight.”

Your eyes flew open, and you gasped around Geto’s dick, drawing another ragged moan from the man. It wasn’t what you had intended at all, but you couldn’t hide your reaction to Satoru’s lascivious words, especially since he could feel your core fluttering in agreement with his statement. 

You could feel the wickedly delighted grin spread across his face as Gojo grew deadly silent for a moment. “Oh, Suguru~ you should’ve felt the way she just clenched around me when I said that. Our girl is even dirtier than we thought.” 

“I told you she’s perfect.” Geto slid into your mouth even further, sighing in bliss and his own ecstasy as he pushed into your throat, entwining his hands in your hair. You gagged for a brief moment; his dick had more girth than Gojo’s, and it was the biggest you’d ever taken like this. The raven-haired sorcerer moaned and crooned down at you, stroking the column of your throat where his cock was nestled so deeply.

More tears fell as your eyes watered in the bliss of being so completely used by the two men. You felt so full, so complete, and you couldn’t help but moan again as your nose rubbed against the dark trail of hair on Geto’s lower abdomen. 

“Shit, gotta move. You ready, baby?” Gojo groaned, shallowly thrusting his hips. You tried to moan in assent, but the sound was strangled by the dick in your throat. 

Geto tipped his head back in ecstasy, laughing hoarsely. “She wants it s’badly, ‘Toru.”

The two men started to move, alternating their thrusts in perfect rhythm like they’d planned this moment for years. Every deep thrust from Gojo would send you falling forward onto Geto’s cock; you could only wordlessly cry in bliss from the position the two men fucked you mercilessly.

Satoru pinched and kneaded the tender flesh of your ass with every thrust. He swiped one of his fingers between your legs, collecting the creamy mixture of his pre-cum and your arousal, offering it out to his best friend with a smirk. Geto sucked it off with an audible pop, groaning at the taste as Satoru returned to collect more. You choked again as you felt one of his long, clever fingers tease your tightest hole, circling the rim with predatory intent. 

“Relax, baby. Gotta get you ready f’me.” He slipped his finger in, beginning to work you open as you relaxed into the intense but euphoric sensation. 

“Our slutty princess wants all her holes filled, huh?” Geto groaned, looking down at your fucked-out expression. “Gotta cum again for us. Gonna make you cum so hard that you can’t think straight.” 

Satoru slipped a second finger into your ass, working you open even further as the two men fell slightly out of sync with their thrusts. They were both breathing hard, grunting and begging desperately for you to cum with them. As if on command, you fell apart for the second time with an obscene moan. White sparks flashed through your vision as your orgasm shot through you, even more forceful than the first. Your cunt spasmed around Gojo so violently that he came on the spot, painting your blood-swollen womb with his pearlescent seed. 

Geto cursed at the sound of Gojo’s strangled cry, pulling completely out of your mouth. You panted and moaned below him, your body shaking with every thrust as Gojo fucked you through your orgasm. Suguru groaned as your tongue lolled out, begging to be coated with his cum. His balls felt almost uncomfortably full as he stroked his shaft rapidly, intent on giving you what you begged for so prettily. 

It only took a few seconds for Geto’s own orgasm to crash through him. The smooth movements of his hips and hands stuttered as he groaned lowly, painting your pretty face with his seed. However, most of it landed in your mouth, and you happily caught it with your pink tongue, holding it out for him to inspect. 

“You’re going to… be the death of me one day,” the raven-haired man moaned as he felt blood immediately rush back to his cock. Instead of swallowing, your eyes shone mischievously, and you turned around to pull Satoru into a searing kiss. You mimicked his earlier actions, but this time you were pushing Suguru’s cum into his mouth.  

Gojo moaned wantonly at the sharp taste, swallowing his share as his own cock twitched back to life. Geto pulled you away from the other man, maneuvering you to face him as he brought your hips down, filling you with his cock in a single thrust. You screamed hoarsely, cunt spasming from overstimulation as Gojo laughed roughly, wiping the remainder of his friend’s cum off his lips before positioning himself behind you. 

The white-haired man watched greedily as you bounced on Geto’s cock, taking a minute to lean back and stroke his dick until he was fully erect. Gojo pulled your hips back, stilling Geto’s thrusts, and he growled in response.

“Gotta let me in too,” Gojo chided, swiping a finger over his fat tip to coat it with pre-cum as he positioned it against your other hole. Your eyes widened, and you gasped as he started to push into you, stretching you slowly but mercilessly. Geto pulled you in for a ravenous kiss, devouring your litany of moans as he struggled to keep from thrusting into you. After a small eternity, both men were seated fully inside you, and you whined their names over and over like a prayer, begging them to start moving. 

“Toru, Sugu… nnnnhgh, ‘m so full,” you cried, leaning your head against Geto’s shoulder as the two men cradled you in their arms. Their hands roamed over your body, caressing and groping every inch of you as they began to move, stretching your body past the very limits of pleasure. Your eyes glazed over; you couldn’t tell who was kissing your neck versus who was rubbing achingly soft circles on your clit, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care as the two men brought you to climax again and again.

Soft rays of dawn were peeking through your bedroom window by the time the three of you fell onto your bed, breathing hard but finally sated. You looked around at the sheets and at your lovers, blushing hotly at the dried red marks that covered almost every surface in the room. The towels had not lasted long.

Geto chuckled, rubbing your back soothingly, “We’ll clean up. Don’t worry.” 

“And we’ll prepare better for next time,” Gojo added with a grin, poking your cheek. 

Your whole body felt like jelly, but the two men were determined to care for you properly. Suguru walked into the bathroom, and you could hear the sound of water filling your bathtub as Satoru fetched a glass of water for you, helping you sit up to drink properly. He scooped you up, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple as he walked you into the bathroom, depositing you in the warm water. The three of you washed each other in blissful silence, with both men being extra attentive to your sore body. Afterward, they changed your sheets and put you in clean pajamas, slipping their own sweatpants on to climb into bed next to you. 

“Thank you…” You murmured, already drifting off to sleep between your two lovers. 

Geto kissed your temple silently as Gojo laughed softly, “Of course. We have to take good care of our girl, after all.”

Tagging some friends: @saradika @thefact0rygirl @babygirl-leon-kennedy @hereforthesunrise @ashotofspotchka @ironandglass @amyroswell @cassandrablacker @lady-valtieri @justanothersadperson93 @orangecremepuff @belle-smith07 @outspokenbrat @enchantedsylveon @khaleesihavilliard @spam-love @silverliningsandstorms @msniks @panteramarron @cindyneko-strider @unoriginalidea @eldritchbeauty @markleeisdabestdrug @gabbyburgers @its-chickenwing-450 @luneariaa @akiiireix @tojispookiebear @dangoank0 @ifuckinghateschool @barryatsumu @voids-universe @mahgyu @themoonmonologues @byul9158 @pseudowho

[fullfriendnerdclutch]

The story originally created by @captainmalewriter and you can find the link in this continuation post by @permanentswaps

You Will Possess Me Pt. 3

Still laying in bed with his post-nut afterglow after flooding Yosef's hole, Mauro decided to clean himself a bit before trying to get his much-needed rest before his night shift at the club

"Don't you want to shower?" asked Mauro as he stands up while Yosef plopped himself back to bed after a quick client call that interrupted his post-nut recharge

"You go first, I'll join you later," Yosef said with a rather malicious smirk that Mauro failed to see as he already turned his back and headed to the bathroom

So, Mauro opened the bathroom door of his apartment and a gust of chilling wind welcomed him. Well, it's just finished raining outside so this might just be a sunset breeze or something, he thought to himself as he stepped in and get himself ready by taking off his sex-stained wifebeater. But when the wind blows started to get icy as the door closes, Mauro started to get real suspicious. Before he can walk back out, a shivering sensation crept through his asshole that caused him to yelp. It's like as if something is possessing him! He groaned in pain as his body slammed the door in surprise, the sharp pain reaches his prostate and even beyond and practically sent him to a state of trembling shock. Rather than subsides, it really jabbed further and in his desperate bid to save himself, he screamed for help to his recent fuck-buddy as he exited the bathroom crawling for help

Yet, when Yosef appeared in the hallway leading to the bathroom witnessing the splayed and pale body of the Latino hunk that just bred him earlier, he just smirked before kneeling himself so he can get closer to Mauro's writhing face

"Oh, I see that he's in your stomach now Maybe stop resisting and just let him in to take full control, that will definitely make the pain go away much quicker,"

Mauro just gritted his teeth, holding on the pleasurable pain as these ectoplasm seemingly hit all the right spot inside of his body but it still feels like he's ripped away from his body, his eyes darting the most sinister look to the grinning Yosef

"The guy squirming inside of you, he's a small man, but his will is so big, this is a losing game for you, Mauro. Plus, he can definitely wear this thick beer can of a cock of yours better. You are not the best custodian of this meaty dick, you know? Hhhh....I'm bored to see you resisting so--" and just like that, Yosef grabbed Mauro's throat to choke him. Mauro went into a full-body seizure as Yosef practically caused him to lose his breath. That also helped the ghost to reach even deeper into Mauro's psyche. Snapping his head left and right trying to wriggle himself free proven to be futile as Yosef straddled himself on top of him to make the choking and pressure even more effective. When Mauro's body violently spasmed from head to toe and his eyes started to roll back to reveal its white sides, the painful groan quickly switched to echoing deep laughter as his eyes snapped back to normal but there's this sinister twinkle that now shines from his eyes.

The takeover is complete. Realizing the position they ended up with, Yosef grinned as he comfortably slid his still-rather-loose hole to swallow the mushroom head of Mauro's cock. Mauro, no longer in control of himself, can only witness his possessor returning Yosef's horniness by sliding even more inches into the horny and possessed ghost whisperer's hole

"You are one crazy motherfucker, you know?" remarked the possessed Mauro, "honestly, still baffled me how a ghost whisperer/exorcist can fall victim to the very thing that they should be able to control,"

"Well, I'm an elusive and very determined spirit, after all," the possessed Yosef said, lying through his gritted teeth on how he actually managed to overtake Yosef's body, "uuunnghhh.....and now, let's seal you in. You can hear him inside you?"

"Yeah, he's here, weak and imprisoned with no ability to do anything except to witness....ungggh....me....fucking....the...shit.....mmmpphhh...out of you,"

"Let's get rid of that noise once and for all then," With a wicked grin, Mauro lifted Yosef to the couch and then proceed to ruthlessly pistoned his veiny brown 8 inchers into Yosef's fitting hole. Both men simply groaned and satisfied their flooding lust through kisses, spits and screams of ecstasy. When Mauro started to convulse as he is close to spurt, Yosef stopped himself short to slide himself back to Mauro's cock. Instead, he delayed Mauro from fulfilling his gratifying lust by grabbing the pulsing meat with his fist. Mauro roared in frustration and tried to force his way to get back to plow Yosef's ass, but Yosef just pinned the horny beast on the floor with his ass hovering mid-air

"Trust me, the best ones cum in waves," Yosef said, pun intended.

As the cock softened and several mililitre of leakage flows out gently to make his mushroom head slick with pre, Yosef comfortably slide himself down once more to the quickly-erect cock which caused Mauro's eyes fluttered in delight. Yosef then decided to stop playing around and slowly bring Mauro to the finish line as he ensured to clench his hole tight. Feeling his new dick getting clenched by his fuckbuddy's boypussy once more, Mauro then decided to take the matter into his own hands by grabbing Yosef's waist and keeping it in place. Yosef, alarmed by the gravity of the brutal fucking Mauro is capable off, flushed with worry as he found himself locked in place. He tried to break free and moaned like a whore as Mauro's cock hit close to his G-spot

"MMMFFFFUUUCKKKK YOU, DON'T YOU DARE GETTING OUT AGAIN NOW," Mauro threatened with a sadistic glee as he can feel that he's close to cumming

Yosef writhed in pain and delight knowing that this one will be one heck of a huge blast. But even before Mauro shot his load, Yosef already spurted like a geyser, his cock untouched but it's shooting cum all over his own torso, Mauro's and even the cushion cover and the mirror behind Mauro's head. It's one heck of a mess, followed by another mess as Mauro eventually released his tremendous load as it flows out from Yosef's gaping hole and stained the cushion beneath their bodies. Alongside the flowing cum, the real Mauro's soul also expelled from his own body and joining the same fate with the real Yosef, it simply fades into irrelevancy as the soul is not necessarily a soul that can move on to the after life but also at the same time having no vessels to claim as home, making it weaker as the time progresses unless he managed to find a body weak enough to be beaten by his soul.

The ghost inside Mauro just chuckled "Ck....he's gone. Phew.....fuck....again, I don't know how the fuck you found out about this whole....breed and freed scheme or whatever you name this, or how you basically manage to utilize his power for our kind's benefit, but this is brilliant. And....hmmmmm, I have a few friends that are eager to get back to live life once more, do you think we can work together to help them? I bet there's a lot of hot guys willing to get involved in a threesome with Mauro and Yosef over here, don't you think?"

Yosef just smiled. That actually sounds like a good plan, a possible thriving business enterprise if he wants to put in some work. But at this point, he's just trying to live in the moment and cherished the opportunity of getting back alive and having his back blown by hot guys that his old life could only dream of. All thanks to that fucking broken cock ring

[calicoheartz]

“Baby I” - Paige Bueckers♡

summary : jealous Paige Bueckers x reader !

wc ; 897

synopsis : inspired by the song “baby i” by Ariana Grande :) Paige’s jealousy often gets in the way of your relationship, so what happens when you interact with a particularly attractive stranger?

warning : angst , suggestive content , jealousy / possessiveness

my master list ㇀♡

a/n : look at me having a posting streak !! decided to try something new today, so I hope yall enjoy ◡̈

You and Paige had been dating for not too long, but your relationship had certainly developed into one where strong feelings and emotions played a huge factor in your everyday lives.

It was no secret to you that Paige was jealous, envious even; it caused you a fair share of problems throughout your relationship. Whether it was through jealous ridden comments, or snarky remarks, it was slowly starting to take a toll on you.

You and Paige were invited to go bar hopping with the team, as a celebration of the victorious win for Uconn. The free spirited and ambient environment encouraged you to let loose, encouraging you to not only grab a drink from the bar, but to strike up a couple of conversations with individuals around you.

It’s not that Paige didn’t want you to talk to other people, it’s just that when it comes to you; she’s very, how do I word this.. Overbearing? Whether it was constantly having her hands glued to your waist, peppering your face with kisses, or shooting bitter looks and whoever even dares to be just a little too friendly.

On this particular night, a very attractive character to say the least, approached you; beginning to start a simple conversation. Asking things like your name, complimenting your outfit, and overall trying to learn more about you

From across the room, you can see the blonde staring intensely at you, giving you a disapproving look; signaling you to end the conversation. You furrowed your brows and gave her a confused look back, not understanding how the conversation was moving south in any way.

You quickly turned back around, further continuing your conversation with the stranger, when all of a sudden you feel a harsh tug on your wrist. “It was nice meeting you, but we have to go.” And just like that, there you were, being dragged out of the bar by your girlfriend. Who seemed incredibly pissed.

The drive back home was unbearable, no words were exchanged between you two. The blonde never acknowledging you on your journey back home, knuckles white due to her intense grip on the steering wheel. You couldn’t tell if she was upset, disappointed, horny, or a mix of all 3.

As soon as you reached your apartment, your nerves were eating you alive. You had no idea what was waiting for you once you reached your apartment door.

You quickly hurried inside, and situated yourself on your shared couch. Waiting for her to say something. You felt your heart pounding, unable to even form coherent words. When you realized the endless silence, you simply muttered out a “I’m..sorry?.” Paige rolled her eyes at you, scoffing in the process. “YOU’RE sorry? They were practically throwing themselves at you and all you did was stand there and let them.” You were shocked, you knew Paige could take things the wrong way, but you never imagined her of all people would think you would be the type to do that.

“Paige…” you started. “You know I love you more than anything, but you know words can’t even touch what’s in my heart,” you continued. Your eyes now spilling out tears you tried your hardest to keep in.

“Then why don’t you ever tell me?”... “I feel like I’m constantly competing with others for your attention” This statement startled you, as you knew Paige was well aware of your difficulty to express yourself, let alone reassure others. Fuck. Oh how badly you wished the floor underneath you would simply collapse, giving you any sort of escape from the high tensioned conversation.

You felt as if you were to speak, your throat would simply close up. You managed to croak out.. “It’s just when I try to explain it, I be sounding insane. Sometimes it feels like the words don’t ever come out right.” She looks at you, her gaze softening a bit; as a reaction to your sudden vulnerability.

“It’s just I don’t know…the words just never come out right when it comes to you. You make me get all tongue tied and twisted, and I literally cannot explain what I’m feeling.” “Baby-” “No.” - you cut her off. Quickly feeling a rush of adrenaline run through you. “Yes, I should’ve been more clear and work on my communication, but you need to realize that not everyone is trying to sabotage our relationship. It’s exhausting. I can’t keep isolating myself due to your jealous fits of rage.”

Paige looks at you, tears welling in her eyes, threatening to spill out if she even mumbles out a word. She muttered a quiet “im sorry…”, her voice cracking at the last word, her eyes glued to the floor as she anticipated your response.

As if she were a magnet, you run towards her and wrap your arms around her tall frame, gently rubbing circles into your back as sobs slowly escape her lips. This entire thing had been a complete misunderstanding, and her jealousy blinded her judgment. Through her weeps you were able to make out “i love you. All i was trying to say is that youre my everything and-”

She wasnt even able to finish her sentence as she felt your warm lips on hers, entangling her in a deep and loving kiss. “If that doesnt show you that i love you, i dont know what will”

not sure how to feel about this tbh, originally i was gonna give this a sad ending but since the song is a love song, it didn’t feel fitting. Lmk ur thoughts !! Thanks for reading ◡̈

[sugar-petals]

⌈ pile I - QUEEN OF CUPS „i adore you so much“

⌈ pile II - ACE OF CUPS „i’m your lover in plain sight“

⌈ pile III - JUSTICE „i’m the one you deserve“

🔓 select the tarot card that you noticed first.

⌈ NOTE 🌹 ➝ welcome to this extended nsfw reading. at the bottom of the deck i found the 5 OF WANDS (see below cut) so the overall theme is: teasing 😏 let’s find out what it means for you individually in your piles. what steamy thoughts are running circles in your person’s mind? tell me what you got and enjoy 🐝

[ deck used | the wonderful golden art noveau tarot by Giulia Massaglia — gilded example cards below, not the actual piles ]

{ 𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚝/𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚘 𝚖.𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 }

the FIVE OF WANDS - today’s overall energy is playfighting. 

message. they want to give you a sexual challenge rather than indulging in a soft and hesitant mood: tease them right back and they’ll appreciate it. it’s all in good spirits as long as both play along. boldness is appreciated and keeps the chemistry running. 

no need to fear conflict, this is all friendly banter without the intent of hurting. behind all of that is the idea of testing limits + experimenting sexually through fun and activity rather than keeping it a guessing game what the other person might like. 

pile i - QUEEN OF CUPS „i adore you so much“

⌈ QUEEN OF WANDS - THE EMPEROR - PAGE OF COINS - 3 OF CUPS

Oh hot damn… Lucky in Love or Drunk in Love are the type of lyrics I’m getting from this. Nothing prevents them from thirsting over you lmao but it’s a good thing! Because they’re confident in liking you so. Damn. Much. And they know you like them back. What a secure lover this person is becomes apparent in their ambitions: They reflect dedication. Meanwhile, they’ve got a balance of mature and outgoing/youthful energy alike. And I feel like they really went from being serious in your presence to just letting it all out! Good for them, because they’re on a roll since they met you slash made contact.

The main kink I’m seeing here is teacher and student, hands down. They are seriously into pretending there’s a difference in power, authority, knowledge, age, looks, all of that. Doesn’t have to be real, it can be roleplay, but they do consider you to be someone to look up to. They pleasure themselves like mad to those thoughts, honestly. The Daddy or Mommy kink is real in this one because whew, QUEEN + EMPEROR? That’s a big deal. You two are either two bold personalities coming together (or they fantasize about that, some major powerplay) or they identify you as that person who pulls all of their strings with little to no effort. Far from intimidated, they are ready to learn and enjoy because they’re your babe.

This person is not a starfish though. Happily under your spell, I can see them quite actively horny because wow Pile 1, their sex drive is just impressive, to say the least. Not scattered, just very strong in general. And they see you just like that as well. They know you are in charge, they feel that you’ll handle the shit out of them without hesitating. Boss of their body is what I’m hearing! Not an inch will belong to anybody else. They love how madly possessive they are.

At the same time, they also think you can learn together, it’s not so set in stone. I like that contrast in the cards. Sovereignty and mature sex versus being carefree and raunchy like a student party. Like they want you to pounce on them and dominate their every cell, but they also want to be your cute little pet to fool around with. I get the impression that this person worships the hell out of you and thinks you’re the best in bed, no matter your degree of experience. That’s the thing, they would be happy with a virgin and a sexpert alike, as I said they hardly care! Because you charmed them and made your standpoint clear! Even if you have a hot VERSUS stone-cold demeanor and sex appeal, they feel inspired by that.

Your sexual energies complement each other well I feel. In their mind, you could top them so easily. They gladly submit to an orgy of pleasure. I think they trust you a lot, they just want to lose control and be chased. They won’t chase you! You’re too prideful and want to set this up on your own terms. This relationship is yours to create, they won’t interfere. They’re too starstruck and want to gather their resources first, only to find out you’re tremendous fun to be with and they had nothing to worry about.

You are the sun of their universe Pile 1, you seduced them so much. If only you would boss them around, they want it so badly. This scenario could be a total clash of titans since you are both a total smokeshow in your own ways.  They looked at you and wanted you to open up, leave the stiff old life behind and feel younger again. Since you’re so foxy to them, they treat you like the bombshell you are, with lots of reverence and respect. I’m even getting service sub vibes from your person, Pile 1, they’ll just do whatever you ask `em like you’re royalty, long as it’s consensual of course, but I don’t get any toxic fantasies from this pile, just very dom-sub centered ones.

{ 𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚝/𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚘 𝚖.𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 }

pile ii - ACE OF CUPS „i’m your lover in plain sight“

⌈ EIGHT OF SWORDS - KNIGHT OF WANDS - 6 OF COINS - PAGE OF CUPS

Whirlwind kind of romance right here, lots of ups and downs in their anxious mind. You left them feeling powerless to all the energy they perceive you to so blazingly have, Pile 2. They were thunderstruck by your presence, were frozen on the damn spot. Tied. Up. Which leads us to the card imagery, by the way. Bondage fantasies is a huge theme here. I’m just sayin’… That’s their sexual fantasy when they think of you. If you’d blindfold them, or try something like knife play, even (as the swords card indicates), that would get them going so much. Despite their freaky imagination, ironically they are the mellow one, while you are the fiery counterpart that doles it all out to them in their wet dreams.

As contradictory as it sounds, reciprocating and giving back is the dynamic here, though. For instance, if you bought stuff for them, they’d be so happy and fawn over you like wild. Since this is a rollercoaster ride, however… I can’t quite tell what exactly their constant feelings are for you, Pile 2, as they are just so changeable. From no sex drive to reckless abandon to self-control to begging to being a fool in love. What a journey they’ve been through because of you. You make them feel all of this, and they’re saying thank you.

One day they want to be controlled by you, the other, they want to unleash their passion without any help and do their own dance to impress you. They have an edge but they’re romantic, they’re hopeless and they’re hot shit, they’re fair and then such a tease giving you less than you deserve, full well knowing it will keep you hooked and coming for them like an avalanche.

They want you rushing to their home like it's the firefighters. Because well, well… they’re feeling way too hot, aren’t they. At the same time, that’s the puzzling thing, they also want you to keep them at an arm’s length. If you aren’t confused about this person yet, at this point, you gotta be: Which mirrors them, in fact. They don’t quite know what they want consistently, you left them too dumbfounded to understand the situation for sure. Pile 2, this individual is head over heels for you.

Now this starstruck person dreams about being acted upon by you and they love that. Pillow prince/ss is what I’m seeing all over the spread, they have that receptive energy for the most part. They might be a little unruly once they get out of their comfort zone or don’t feel like they’re acknowledged by you (they might as well have a come-save-me fantasy… do them a favor and help them out). But when they do get signals, they are back in love romantically, yes, not so much sexually, they’re touchy-feely like crazy. Just when they felt like roaming free before! If there’s some hunter-prey fantasy going on here I wouldn’t be surprised, they want to keep you on your toes.

As I said, you get the best of both worlds Pile 2, your person is not the predictable type. Maybe that’s why you like `em. They are flirts and then they’re not. They want rough sex and then they want affection little by little. But the final note in their mind is always this: They want you to glued to them, to go wild for them, to witness them like a fish in the water: Through requited love. All they want is to be asked out and live their dreamy, sensitive love. Confusing you is not their intention. Don’t forget they just want love at the end of the day.

{ 𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚝/𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚘 𝚖.𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 }

pile iii - JUSTICE „i’m the one you deserve“

⌈ KNIGHT OF COINS - PAGE OF SWORDS - THE SUN - THE EMPRESS

What started out as a sensual, stable connection which didn’t go down in flames of horniness now turned their head into a mush. Which then turned into them bursting with vitality! An online message of yours shook them up, or something you said. But in a positive way, because they’re so happy now. Romantic, personal, sexual bliss, they’re feeling so good about themselves because of you, the dull days are over. What a mood boost you gave them, and they’re confident in their looks because of your steady presence/communication, oh my word.

Because you started out easygoing and then picked up speed, they are absolutely feeling themselves like it’s nobody’s business. I’m so happy for you, Pile 3, because your person is just prancing around like a child after you’ve been frank with them. Talking it out was so needed. Approaching it from a headspace was. Being chatty with them made your person super hot and bothered, too. Hell, they are totally into your voice, the way you take your time when you walk, the way you carry yourself, how you dress up, the way your hair is tousled (if you wear it longer), how you treat yourself, how you choose your words, and how you smile especially.

At first, they were so scared how serious and single-minded you came across. Now they’re blushing and sweating their ass off because you said what you said and you paid attention to them! When they thought they were the knight in shining armor, you gave them a reality check and dodged the bullet, stood your ground instead of playing helpless — which worked in their favor not to get their hopes up and invest right away. That’s how you made this person’s libido explode. But in a good, wholesome way.

This proper mix of humor and the crazy slow burn (!) between the two of you has them going nuts without actually making them crazy, you know? Just healthy adoration and warmth they feel. I get the impression your person has lots of sexual stamina, Pile 3. They know what they’re doing, y’all… they might come across as a total sunshine, but they are, oh my word. Fertile as hell, go all the way, ready to make those babies and live the good life. In this economy? Your person thinks so, who am I to judge, they want that settling down and parenthood. They just know you’d be good at raising kids. But without compromising the mental stimulation, which you give them consistently.

And because you’re such a hottie with charm and good looks, they’re at your feet. You rule them! Your sex appeal has their pretty head spinning, their routine is broken, they can’t get enough of you, they want this in-depth (literally!). For long, they fantasized about having carefree sex with you out in nature, wild and free. Never too much of a good thing with you. You’re so juicy to them, graceful, steamy, gorgeous, you seem to have it all in their eyes. 

They think you have elevated status or just carry yourself in a way that shows your life is fulfilled and abundant. Oh hell, what don’t they like about you. Maybe you can be too direct and frank at times? They prefer your magnanimous, silly, soft, giving, cute’n’comfy side. They need to be taken care of a little, or need your cheer-ups. Because they want to take it easy, and not have conflict and difficulty in communication. Healthy, loving, and lasting (!) sexuality is the gist of this, I’m thinking. Quite Venusian of them, I see their sexual thoughts as Libra/7th house or Taurus/2nd house-themed. An all-around feel-good reading, Pile 3, I love the positive cards you got.

{ 𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚝/𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚘 𝚖.𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 }

FINAL NOTE. meet me in the reply section if you want, and if you got stuff i can improve about my PAC posts, drop a comment as well, i want to brush up my format again!

⭐️ DISCLAIMER // there is no guarantee for accuracy. believing in the cards is a choice. 

© 2017-2023 sugar-petals. All readings for entertainment purposes only: They do not substitute any professional advice. Take what resonates, discard the piles that don’t hit home. If you aren’t drawn to any pile that’s okay, these messages aren’t for you. Do not repost my readings.

[ifiguredyoudloveme]

Unhuman (NSFW)

paul atreides x female!oc

summary: in the dark, a woman shows up in paul's room unannounced and gives him something he'll come to crave.

warnings: 18+, p in v sex, creampie, unnatural amount of cum, slight dubcon ? (paul is put under a spell to make him horny and in a trance-like state so idk), mention of knives, pure smut.

words: 1,852

a/n: i don't know where this character came from lol i just started writing. this makes no actual sense in the dune universe btw i just wanted to write about paul. also this took me over 10 days to write cus i kept procrastinating and i still don't really like it but oh well.

Paul awakens to a feeling that he is not alone in the bedroom he lays. A sense of unease creeps up the back of his neck, hairs standing, as he scans the room for the movement of shadow.

He sees it: a static movement in front of the closed door. He is able to make out the shape of the figure as his eyes adjust to the darkness. It's small but only seems to be a few inches shorter than Paul, however does not have the frame of any man he can think of. A woman, most probably.

"Who are you?" Paul asks. His voice is calm but his mind and rapid heart are not as he reaches for the dagger that usually rests without use under his pillow. He stands, hiding the weapon behind his back, the cold steel pressed against his bare skin.

The woman walks towards him with confident strides. Paul holds in a breath and tightens his grip on the knife. When she's mere inches from him, she draws a knife of her own from her side and presses the tip against the underside of Paul's chin.

"Drop it," she demands. He obeys on command despite the Voice not being used. Paul doesn't feel as though she possesses the ability to use it, and yet, he feels an odd inclination to do as she says.

Paul huffs out the air from his lungs. Her eyes are large and almost seem to be glowing; they're dark as a starless night sky, though he can't make out the colour. Her lips are plump and inviting. She pushes the knife upwards slightly, nearly breaking the skin, before dropping it herself. It clatters against the floor though Paul barely hears it. He has the overwhelming desire, suddenly, to kiss her.

"Who are you?" He asks. He wishes to be assertive in this moment, threatening to the unknown intruder, but he finds his voice will not obey and instead every word he utters comes out as a beg of a higher pitch. What is he begging for?

"It doesn't matter who I am." Her voice is soft and comes out unhuman, like an echoed whisper in the wind. Paul wonders if she's an angel, or a spirit, with her unnatural beauty. "I know who you are, and I'm quite surprised this is working so well on someone like you."

"May I...May I know, at least, what your purpose here is?" Paul's voice is low and hoarse and he can barely get the words out. He's been hypnotized by her - his hands squeeze together behind his back so as not to give into the urge to touch. She needs to leave.

She grins and looks down over Paul's half-naked frame. She rests a warm hand over the right side of his chest. His breath hitches. "I've come to give you something," she replies, her voice sweet and intoxicating. "I'm sure you'll like it, as will I."

Paul, without thought, places his hand over hers. "Has somebody sent you?"

She sighs and drops her hand. Paul's eyebrows furrow in worry; he doesn't want her to leave before she gives him whatever it is she's here for. All worries disappear when her hand returns to touch his face. "Yes, Paul, but I cannot disclose by who."

Paul's name on her lips make him gasp and lean into her touch. She's turned him into an obedient puppy, his eyes hazy and wide with anticipation and his red lips parted lazily. In a part of his mind that is usually far closer to him than now, he's disgusted with himself, his lack of the authority that's expected of him.

"May I see what you have come to give me?" His voice is a whine now. He wants to slap himself for his stupidity. He should tell her to leave, draw the knife to her throat and demand to know who she is, but he doesn't. Instead, he twists his head towards her palm and plants a soft kiss in the middle of it. She smiles at this gesture.

"Yes, of course."

Paul inhales deeply as her soft fingers slide from the side of his face and down his neck, fluttering over his collarbone then over his nipple, down his stomach. Her fingers leave a tingle behind on the skin she's touched. She stops once her hand is rested on his lower abdomen, edging dangerously close to his stirring arousal. "Please..." Paul whispers, barely audible.

"Will you lay down for me, Paul?" She asks sweetly. Paul nods, over and over, until he's rested on his back, his hands drawn up towards his chest in remaining insecurity over his fragile frame.

The woman is straddled over his lower hips in seconds though he didn't see her move, as if she used some sort of teleportation. She leans down until their mouths are barely touching, her breath light against his wet lips. "You're very beautiful, Paul. So delicate."

She reaches between their bodies and lightly grips his erection. A soft oh leaves his lips in a moan and he lifts his hips on instinct in search for friction. The head of his cock is wet and stains the thin material of his pants. He can almost swear, through the daze of his brain, that his erection is far bigger than it typically is, barely contained in the fabric. What he knows, for sure, is that his sensation to touch is amplified to an intensity he is unsure he can handle.

She connects her lips to his and they are as soft as Paul had imagined. He groans deeply into her mouth and pushes his wet tongue between her teeth. Their tongues dance together and her hand grips harder, stroking him frustratingly slow. "Please..." It's as if please is the only word he knows.

She pulls away and smiles, nodding in understanding, and grips the waistband of his pants to slide them down. His cock frees and makes a dirty slap against his stomach, loud in the stillness of the room. Paul reaches for her and wraps his arms around her waist, pulling her back down so they lay skin to skin. She's so warm, and she's naked. Paul wonders if she's been naked this whole time, shadowed by the dark.

She leans into his ear, massages his curls between her fingers. "I'll make you feel good," she whispers so lightly Paul wouldn't have heard if it weren't for the deep silence of the room besides their breaths and his beating heart. He can't hear hers, nor can he feel it against his chest.

"Yeah?" Is all he can mutter, dizzy with desire as he feels her wetness slide over his cock, tip rubbing against her clit. Her pace is slow, too slow, so Paul grips her tighter and lifts his hips upward in a smooth rhythm, meeting her movements. She lets out a moan against his ear, so unhuman but so lovely he wonders if this is in fact a dream.

"Yes." With that, she lifts her hips and sinks down onto Paul's erection, filling her to the hilt. He shrieks an ungodly moan at the feeling and almost cums but manages to, somehow, hold it in. It's the best sensation he's ever felt.

"I can't, I can't," he repeats in huffs, "I don't think I'll last long, I don't—"

"Shh." She places her lips to his neck, sucking on the warm, salty skin. He goes pliant at this: arms slack and dropping to his side, his hands flexing and reaching for sheets to grip. He lets out a shaky whine. He wouldn't mind if his only purpose in life was to exchange pleasure with her, whoever she is.

Once she finally moves, her hips lifting slowly before coming back down again, his head pushes back into the pillow and a whimper escapes his throat. His neck is further exposed and she switches to the other side, sucking there. Paul lightly grips her hair, shorter than his own, and arches his back off the bed.

Her movements increase in speed and, against the sensitive skin of his neck where she's licked and sucked and nipped at, she asks: "Am I fulfilling my promise?"

A sobby whine vibrates in his chest as he nods, his cock leaking profusely with clear liquid inside of her. He's so blissed out he's unable to speak, eyes pricking with tears.

The noises that fill the room are unholy, wet slaps and heated groans of pleasure. She's mainly quiet besides the occasional soft moan when Paul bucks his hips upward to meet her in the middle.

She disconnects her wet, full lips from his neck and connects them to his lips once again, breathing in his steady flow of moans. She takes his cock fully and begins to rock her hips forward and backward, sucking on his tongue as she does so. He whimpers into her mouth at this sudden change of movement and grinds his hips to meet the rhythm of hers.

Paul turns his head to the side, disconnecting their lips, and throws his head back. He moves his hands from her hair to grip her ass and push her down, grinding harder with added force. He's close, and has a deep, forceful desire to cum inside of her.

"I'm gonna– Can I– Please–" Paul mumbles and whines against her ear, unable to form full sentences. His grinds become sloppy as his release climbs close and his grip on her loosens, hands flexed and shaking.

"Yes, Paul," she breathes against his ear, granting him permission. She plants a soft kiss against his cheek as he cums, calming him down with fingers through his hair as he writhes and moans loudly beneath her.

Tears run down his cheeks, cock pulsing inside of her heat and spurting out rope after rope of cum – an unnatural amount. He can feel the warm liquid seep out of her, pooling around the base of his cock and running down his tight balls. The feeling is so intense and delicious he knows that, if he is never to see her again, he may not be able to live with his craving for this. For her.

Once Paul has settled and his heart returns to a steady beat, she lifts her hips and his soaked, softening cock slides out of her and slaps against his thigh. More of his cum leaks out of her and onto his lower stomach. She smiles and places her hands on either side of his face, kissing him, then flips onto her back beside him.

Paul immediately rolls over and wraps his arms around her, unable to handle the lack of her touch. He rests his head against her chest and she lifts a hand to stroke his damp curls. "Don't go," he whispers.

The woman feels cruel knowing she eventually must. But she won't tell Paul this, not yet. Possibly she's been too harsh with her seduction, or Paul is far more sensitive to it than she assumed he would be.

"I won't," she fibs.

[astroboots]

Min Redux

CO-WRITTEN WITH @THIRSTWORLDPROBLEMSS

Pairing: Marc Spector x female reader x Steven Grant (x hints of Jake Lockley)

Summary: Marc is possessed by a horny ancient sex spirit and refuses the help you're willingly offering. Sequel to Gift of Min but can be read as stand alone.

Content: sex pollen, restraints, Marc being a stubborn bastard.

Word count; 12,800 words (do not look at me)

ASTROBOOT’S MASTERLIST | MOON KNIGHT MASTERLIST

There's a white, pot-bellied goose staring up at Marc expectantly with hunger. He ignores it, pretending he doesn't see it as he turns his head, eyes circling around the park.

If he ignores it, it will give up eventually.

"Oh hello there fella! You're a plump one aren't you?"

Marc resists the deeply ingrained urge to roll his eyes. Of course, Steven would acknowledge the animal.

“I think it wants us to feed it”, Steven says.

Marc hums in acknowledgment. He doesn't want to get into this right now. Doesn't want Steven distracted and excitedly buzz in their head with anecdotes about Geese and the bird wildlife in London when they're supposed to be on the lookout for their contact.

Flicking his wrist, Marc glares at his watch.

8:12am.

Twelve minutes late. You'd think Ancient Egyptian Deities would have some kind of culling process when picking their Avatars. Punctuality should be a bare minimum requirement.

He leans back against the wooden slats of the park bench, hands shoved inside his field jacket against the chill of the London air as a woman with a stroller walks by nearly running over the goose in the process (to Steven's outrage). For the umpteenth time since he sat down, Marc's fingers trace the lining until he catches at the sharp edge of the small golden trinket box, just to make sure it's still there.

Gift of Min. A tiny trinket box that's been sealing away some sex-crazed sprite serving the Ancient God of Sex for decades. One that Steven managed to accidentally free with his uncanny puzzle solving skills in just under a minute, getting himself possessed in the process.

Marc's fingers clutch at the brass-metal, until it's digging into his palms as he squeezes down. Flashes of your bare skin underneath Steven's hands, and the soft curves of your naked form pressed underneath him, pushes to the surface of his mind.

Fuck, he shakes his head. No, his mind is not going there. He needs to stay here, in the present, find the other Avatar and hand this over so it's out of your lives for good.

Get rid of it so that what happened last week won't ever repeat itself. He won’t allow that to happen, won’t risk putting you in harm’s way again.

It's all so vivid and Marc has replayed the memory of it so many times, every detail of it. Every gasp, moan and whimper of your voice. The way your back arched from the floor, the way your mouth fell open. The way your eyes would roll back right before you came… repeatedly. He’s played it like a VHS tape on repeat until it’s been so worn out from replays that the image is filled with static and he almost can't tell anymore if it was entirely Steven's experience or his as well, trapped as he was in the mind space. 

Steven rutting into you mindlessly like an animal. Hips snapping against your soft plump thighs. Your legs squeezed tight around his hips, around his cock as you kept coming uncontrollably, again and again and–

"Marc Spector?"

With a jolt, Marc's pulled from his thoughts at the voice. Looking up, there's a man standing two feet away from him with a much too friendly smile on his face for someone that's—Marc flicks his watch—22 minutes late.

The man reaches out a hand in an inviting gesture to shake Marc's hand.

These Avatars always want to make pleasantries and be friends, like they're all part of the Mickey Mouse Club on account of their ostensible connection of being in indentured servitude to defunct Egyptian Gods.

Reluctantly, Marc relents, slipping one hand out of his pocket. The man's hand is bony, his grip tight like he's trying to assert dominance by crushing Marc's hand. Then he lets it go, the smile spreading even wider with that uncanny eager friendliness.

"I believe you have something for me?"

Standing up from the bench, Marc reaches into his pocket again and shoves it into the man's hand.

"Ah there it is. Gorgeous little thing isn't it?" Min’s avatar holds the box up in the daylight, inspecting it as if it were a diamond, then he tilts his head with a confused expression.

"Oh dear," he says.

At first, Marc misses the alarm in his voice, because the man practically sings out the words.

"What?" Marc asks. 

Instead of answering Marc, the man hums, turning the trinket box in his hand as if weighing the contents, his friendly smile fading into a slight frown.

"What is it?" Marc repeats, irritated this time.

"Well…" the man shifts the box into his other hand, repeating the same weighing motion. Then the man holds the box up to his ear, like he’s trying to hear the ocean in a seashell.

The Avatar’s inability to give a straight answer has Marc's patience balanced on a tenuous line that he can physically hear as it snaps.

"What is wrong," Marc repeats for a third time through gritted teeth.

"The seal's been opened."

There's a tension in Marc's jaw as he grinds down on his teeth. "There was an accident. Someone opened it. But I made sure to trap the sprite back inside."

"Well whatever you did, you didn't do a good enough job.” The man says it so matter-of-factly like it’s not even an insult, and Marc has to take a deep calming breath, his hand closing into a fist. 

“The puzzle sequence wasn't completed when you retrapped the spirit and thus not sealed. It must have escaped." This time, the man flips the panels in sequence of motion, in-out-up-up-down until Marc loses track. The gears in the box whir and the box opens-- and adrenaline ramps up in Marc as instincts have him backing away from the box, holding up an arm to shield his nose and mouth shut.

But there's nothing. No blue shiny smoke like last time.

It's empty.

“Wait so what does that mean?” you ask him, as you stab the fork into the thick double slice of french toast he’s made you. Double dipped in batter drowned in cinnamon sugar, just the way you like them.

Turning on the tap, Marc fills the kettle with water as he puts it on the stove to boil your morning tea.

Except it’s not morning anymore. It’s the afternoon now, almost 1pm. You slept through the whole of the morning, but considering the morning-afternoon-and parts of the evening you endured with Steven barely 48 hours ago, Marc is hardly going to begrudge you sleeping in.

“Don’t worry about it,” Marc says, hoping his reassurance will allay any worries you may have. Because you don’t have to worry. He’s going to fix it—fix everything—and keep you out of trouble this time.

But as he looks up at you, the frown that borders on a glare on your face tells him that was absolutely the wrong thing to say.

Shit, he’s doing that thing again isn’t he? The very thing you told him not to do after the post-possession talk.

His shoulders sag. He sighs in capitulation. Right. Communication. Tell you things.

“I have to find it again. This time I’ll have Steven seal it so it doesn’t escape.”

“It’s been days, it could be anywhere, did they tell you how to find it? Do we have some kind of magical ancient artifact compass?”

Marc’s shoulders tenses at your use of ‘we.’ There’s no ‘we’ here. He’s not getting you involved in this. He’s gonna catch it. Steven’s gonna seal it. That’s the plan.

“Marc?” You ask, but he pretends he doesn’t hear you as he moves to the cupboard, to find a teapot.

“Do we know how to find it?” you repeat when he doesn’t answer.

He pretends to busy himself, foregoing the perfectly good teapots he can use that sits in the front and pushes them aside as he continues to search the cupboard.

If he ignores you, you will give up eventually.

Faintly, he thinks he can hear Jake’s (sarcastic) voice in his head. “Jefe, she’s not a Goose. Ignoring her isn’t going to cut it.”

“Stop pretending you’re looking for teapots and ignoring me. I’m just going to keep asking until you answer.”

Shit.

You’re so insistent. Worse than park geese. Worse than Steven and Jake combined.

“No compass,” Marc answers as he pulls out a random teapot in the furthest corner. Dusty from lack of use. He’s gonna have to clean this. With the way Steven cleans this apartment, it might be covered in asbestos for all he knows.

“The guy said it likes cramped small enclosed places. Tiny chests, jewelry boxes, tupperware. Anything that closes with a lid.”

“That hardly narrows it down in London!”

“Like I said, I’ll take care of it.”

Turning on the tap, he runs the teapot under water in the sink, scrubbing the dust and grime. He lifts the lid but it’s been so long since it’s been used the pot is practically sealed shut from dirt, even as Marc pushes against the top.

He can hear you approaching from behind. “You won’t get it open that way,” you offer as you turn the tap and turn it as far as it goes for hot water. Then you take the pot from him, running the lid over the running water, gripping at the base and start to turn it until he can hear it give with a quiet ‘pop’.

“Tada!”

You’re grinning at your success, and Marc has to bite the inside of his cheek to tamper down his own smile at the sight of you. Because fuck, that gloating, I-know better-than-you smile, (which should be aggravating) is infectious.

“See! This is why you need me,” you sing-song, rubbing your success in his face as you lift the lid. He’s so distracted by your easy-smile and glow of schadenfreude he doesn’t pay attention to the quiet hiss of pressure that gives from the lid.

A tendril of blue-white fog rises up, reaching towards you. Before Marc fully processes what he’s doing, he’s already stepping forward into your space. One hand clasps at your wrist as he yanks you backwards and away from the kitchen.

Gotta fucking be kidding him. That fucking thing was hiding in the teapot all this time.

It hits him like a kick in the gut. It’s like swallowing live fire into his throat except it keeps burning all the way as it travels into his chest and digs into the inside of his stomach, settling into every inch of his flesh. It’s the feeling of downing a bottle of whiskey in one sitting with none of the side sickness and nausea that he has to swallow down. It burns and crackles inside his veins.

With the intensity of the heat as it bubbles in his blood, he had expected it to hurt. It doesn’t. Instead it’s molten and slow, oozing through his system like a heated haze. He feels heady as the sensation rushes through him from the curl of his toes to the tip of his nose until it has his scalp tingling. It’s pleasant. Euphoric even if he lets his mind linger on it. He doesn’t.

From a distance he thinks he can hear your voice, and buried underneath the fog, Steven’s concerned babbling. But it’s drowned out by the blood thrashing in his ears. He tries to find you, but his vision is swimming in front of him.

Then he hears it, you’re shouting his name. You sound so worried.

He can feel you. Soft and doting hands cupping his cheeks with a tender touch that has the heat in his stomach reach a boiling point, then you tilt his face upwards to meet your worried gaze.

It’s the same expression on your face when you were tending to Steven not two days ago. Heat spikes in his lower belly, his cock twitching against the constricted confines where it’s trapped under hard denim.

‘Need you’, a voice inside his head, neither Steven or Jake’s but entirely his own, calls out. ‘Want you’.

Flashes of you, your back arching from the floor, trapped underneath him as he thrusts into you invade his vision. The phantom sensation of your wet tightness wrapped around his cock shivers through him and the ache makes the length of him pressed hard against his boxers, twitch and leak against the soft fabric.

Fuck… He can’t put you through that again.

He can’t have you here.

"Leave," he grits out, scooting backwards, dragging himself away from you by the heel of his hands along the wooden floor.

"What?"

"You need to go. Leave!" He barks out.

He tries to get up but fuck, his legs have gone all wobbly like fucking Bambi, can't steady himself, and his faulty balance has you running forwards towards him. 

Marc throws out his hands, palms up as a signal for you to keep your distance.

"No! Don't get close to me. You need to go now."

He grabs at the side of one of the wooden shelves, as he steadies himself on his feet and props himself up, but fuck, everything is spinning. He feels like he's drunk, and he closes his eyes to make it stop.

"Marc," you say his name so softly, it makes the heat in his veins grow hotter. There's liquid fire pumping through his blood.

Even with his eyes closed, he sees you.

You underneath him, exhausted and fucked out. Swollen lips kissed raw and tender. Legs shiny and slick, with your come and his, as it drips over his cock in a shiny silvery thread and down the wooden floor below.

Shit! Shit! Stop, don't think of that.

His eyes fly open to the sight of you, the you in front of him right now, your pretty face mere inches from his. Lips so close he can practically fucking taste you already on his tongue from pure sense memory.

He's getting worse by the second. He's not sure how much longer he can keep his body in check. Every inch of him wants to touch you. Fingers itching to dig into your plump flesh. His cheeks tingle and all he wants is to have your thighs pressing down and enveloping his face. His tongue is heavy in his mouth and salivating at the thought of licking every inch of your soft skin, to have the familiar taste of you fill his mouth– fuck, he can’t– he needs something to restrain himself with as a precaution.

His eyes flicker to the bed, and of course, it's not there. Where is Steven's stupid ankle bracelet when it’s actually needed? 

Shit.

Wait, the cuffs. Jake keeps some cuffs here, where did he – his eyes roam the space, until he spots the shiny metal glinting from underneath Jake's cap that he's carelessly slung against the shelf behind him.

"I'm not going to leave you here by yourself. Let me help," you say and his eyes linger on your pouty lips, the way they open and close as you bite your lower lip in worry. He wants to sink his own teeth into them until you whine for him. Slip his aching cock between them, until his hard cock is enveloped by your softness.

He shakes his head, taking a step back as he looks around himself, planning his exit route. The front door is behind you, which means he'd have to get past you to get out.

Crap. Stubborn as you are, you'd try to block him in a heartbeat, and unless he's gonna tackle you (out of the question) this is going to get him nowhere.

"You can't help with this," he says, eyes continuing to scan the room until he spots the open door to the bathroom.

You frown, eyes narrowing in irritation. "I can actually. We've been here before Marc. I helped Steven remember?"

And fuck does he remember, can't forget. That's part of the problem.

Your hand reaches for him, fingertips brushing over his fisted knuckles, and the touch of it tingles with a burning ache.

"It'll feel better if you let me help you," you say.

Marc takes a step back, arm reaching behind him, until he feels the cold metal against his hand and grabs the cuff.

"I'm not going to do that to you," he says. Before you get a chance to respond, he's already turning around. He's leaping on his feet, darting to the bathroom and slams the door shut behind him.

His fingers are trembling, cold sweat dripping down his forehead as he fumbles locking the door.

From behind the door he can hear your panicked voice calling for him.

"Marc? Marc!!"

The rickety panel door rattles and shakes against the frame with your effort to slide it open. “Marc, did you lock the door?! Marc!” 

You sound so worried, and a small pang digs under his skin when he hears you. 

It’s so stupid. He knows you’re safe, that the worry in your voice is meant for him, and yet every instinct in his body is screaming out for him to check on you and make sure you’re okay. He fights it. Eyes darting around the tiny confined space to search for something, anything, permanently affixed to the wall that he can cuff himself to. 

“Marc, open the door or I’m gonna kick this bloody thing down. I swear to god.”

Marc doesn’t have much to work with. There’s the toilet, the sink, with nothing he can attach the cuffs to, and the railing to the shower head that looks… flimsy at best. Still beggars can’t be choosers. 

Forcing his stupidly shaky hands to bring the cuffs to the shower, he tightens one end to his wrist until he can feel the sharp metal dig through his skin, hard enough that it’s probably going to cause the blood flow to constrict. 

Stupid, he’s so stupid, he knows better than this, but his coordination isn’t cooperating and if Marc is honest with himself, the blunt pain helps. 

Helps his mind to sharpen and to distract himself from the burning heat that’s riding him hard at the sound of your voice on the other end of the door calling his name. 

Helps him to shove down the pathetic need that sings in his vein to tear off the flimsy panel door and run into your arms and beg you to help him. 

Helps him find the will in himself to clasp the other end of the cuffs around the metal rod before it clicks satisfyingly to let him know the deed is done. 

Safe. the metal click tells him. You’re safe from him now. He couldn’t get his grubby hands on you even if his weak will breaks. 

The rattling of the door has stopped now. The room fills with silence and you’re no longer shouting for him. Marc turns back and sees the shadow of your feet under the spring as you walk away from the door. You’ve finally given up on him. 

Good. That’s good. 

You should get as far away from him as possible. With any luck, you’re already halfway down the stairs towards the tube.

He knows you’re pissed. Probably slamming the front door on your way out. But that’s ok. He’ll take your anger over your worry. He can deal with anger, knows how to handle it like an old shitty friend he wants to cut ties with but never can. What he can’t take is the way you sounded when you were calling for him. 

The worry. The care. You always care. And it’s wasted on him. All that’s ever earned you since you got involved with him is trouble. 

If you weren’t involved with him then you wouldn’t have been in their apartment that morning when Steven opened the stupid thing. If you weren’t there, Marc would’ve taken over, would’ve taken care of himself instead of — instead of– 

‘Steven, fuckfuck Steven–’ the phantom memory of your voice rings hauntingly sharp in his ears. Slurred and honeyed, the feel of you, slick and dripping between your thighs, clamping down tightly on his Steven’s cock. 

His whole body aches. Skin flushed and burning and his brain feels feverish and rubbed raw with heat at the fraying edges. 

A shower. A cold shower will help. 

Marc takes a shaky breath, as his fingers fumble with the taps. Turning the cold water as far as it goes. He thinks he’s prepared for it but he’s not. It’s a shock to the system. The cold water slams down on him with a heavy punch. Cold and piercing and bitter as it wraps all around his feverish skin and strangles his lungs with it. 

His eyes are closed, but instead of the blank darkness all he sees are your big eyes staring back up at him. Dazed and out of it, fuckdrunk, on him. 

His skin burns. Blood boiling inside his veins until it’s painful. The icy water is still pummelling down at him punishingly, and he’s grateful for it because he thinks he’s going to incinerate from the inside out if it wasn’t. His cock is hard and heavy against the clammy and cold wet denim that’s pressing up against his searing skin. It’s uncomfortable, painful. 

The memory of you refuses to leave him. The silky feel of you wet and hot and writhing on his painfully hard cock. Fuck, fuck, why does he do this to himself. One hand comes up to his face, and he scrubs it hard with the freezing water, rubbing his thumb into his eyes to help with the throbbing heat that’s growing at his temple. It doesn’t help. Can’t scrub out the image of you, mouth parted, head thrown back as you squirm on his cock, as you grind yourself on him and come… again, and again, and– again. His eyes slam open, until he’s staring at the grungy white tiles of the wall. 

There’s something inside his flesh, burrowing into his skin and veins. An infectious heat that slivers and crawls that drips with hunger and greed. Starved for touch and pleasure, it screams and it roars until it’s all Marc can feel too. He wants it, wants you, and nothing else will do. You and the warmth of your body and the way you always welcome him as you wrap yourself around him. 

Shit, he – fuck. fuckfuckfuck. 

He takes a long shuddery breath and it fogs against the cold of the room. He’s shivering but if it’s from the cold of the water stinging against his skin or the heat burning underneath it he doesn’t know anymore. Does it even matter? 

Everything feels raw and painful. Sore and tangled up inside him. He wants– fuck, no fucking stop. He needs to – 

“Marc.” He can hear it again. Your voice calling out his name. Not Steven’s name, his. It echoes and lingers in his mind, soft and sweet. The way it had been when he’d been the one fucking you into the bed between the soft sheets of their bed the night before the incident. 

The way you’d whimpered it, while your nails were digging crescent shaped marks into his skin that were still denting the back of his shoulders when he’d looked this morning. Tiny little marks that are evidence of your love for him. 

His stomach draws tight, hips hitching up without his permission, desperately searching for any friction… shit shit, it’s not enough and it’s too much, the sensation that spears through his stomach as his cock rubs against the hard seam of his jeans. Heat settles at the base of his spine and the sound that escapes him is pathetic. He’s not sure if it’s a gasp or a sob, but he grinds it down between his teeth, snuffing it out. 

Why is his brain trying to murder him like this? 

The heat (or the cold, he doesn’t know which anymore but it doesn’t matter, one of them) is making his mind fuzzy. The grout delineating the tiles in front of him is blurring together, and the room, Marc realizes, is starting to sway and swim. He draws in another breath into his chest, but there’s no oxygen in it. He tries again, and this time the sharp jagged breath hurts, like swallowing broken glass and needles. He doesn’t know what’s wrong. The body is panicking. 

Jake’s trying to push him for the front seat. Marc can feel it, an insistent presence that lingers at the edges of his mind, trying to gain and take hold. But Marc is much better at resisting him these days. Marc’s not going to let him. He doesn’t trust that Jake will be able to hold himself back when it comes to you. Doesn’t trust that the man won’t selfishly uncuff their body and run straight to where you are. His priorities are different from Marc. Jake’s prime concern is to always take care of their body first, everything else comes secondary to that man. Marc doesn’t trust it. Doesn’t trust him. Not with you. He can’t risk it. 

Alarm and anxiety blares bright in his veins, but he can take it. Can endure this. Can–

There’s a loud slam from behind him. 

“Marc, Jesus christ!” 

The sound of your voice makes him whip around. You’re standing in front of him, the bathroom door’s been shoved to the side, wide open, and you’re holding a butter knife in your one hand and what looks like the remnants of his dismantled door handle in your other. 

His heart flutters erratically, a pleasant warmth trickling into his chest. You’re here.

It lasts for a heartbeat and a half, until the realization hits him harder and colder than any ice water could have. You’re here. You’re actually here.  

There’s a concerned expression in your face as you take him in for a full second. Then you drop the items in your hand and rush forward to him until you’re standing under the shower with him. 

“The water is bloody freezing! Have you lost your mind?” You’re shoving past him to get to the tap and turn it off entirely, as you continue to scold him. “You’re going to get hypothermia”.

Your voice might be harsh, but your hands are soft and doting, palms cupping his cheeks, and your eyes are wide and worried in that way that makes everything inside him tighten. His skin tingles where your fingertips brush up against his cheekbones and it takes everything in him to not nuzzle his mouth against your wrists, chasing into your touch for more. 

“You feel like ice. We need to get you into bed, we need to–” your eyes stop at the shower rail and then trail downwards to his right hand that’s cuffed to it in disbelief. Then he hears you take a long exasperated inhale. “Of course, you did,” you murmur, “of course you’d cuff yourself to the damn shower. Where are the keys, Marc?”

His eyes flicker away from your face to stare at the tiles on his left as he grinds his mouth and jaw shut. 

You sigh, then you come closer. You’re crowding in on him, pressed tight to his chest, “fine, I’ll just look myself shall I?” You stand on your tiptoes to reach for the small shower shelf behind him, lifting a shampoo bottle to check if there’s a key underneath. 

Your hair tickles his nose and the familiar comforting smell of you surround him. You’re soft and warm, and amazing and he just wants to sink his teeth into your bare throat that’s inches from his jaw and bite into you like the sweetest and ripest fruit of Summer. 

You shift as you reach for the highest shelf, hips rubbing up against him where they’re slotted between his thighs and fuck–fuck– 

Sharp heat shoots through his stomach, white pleasure blinding and intense that rushes to his head and his knees want to fold under his weight. He groans at the touch and you freeze as he does. 

For a moment both of you are silent and still. The only thing Marc can hear is his own ragged and hash breathing. His body is trying to acclimatize to the new temperature of the room as the heat from his body is quickly evaporating out of him. But the thing under his skin, poisoning his mind and sanity is still there. He feels like he’s on fire. You’re pressed up against every inch of him, and it is screaming in his ears with an ugly hungry need. Marc feels like he’s burning up. Like he’s going to die, flesh burning away until there’s only ashes left, and that’s okay the burrowing need tells him. Let it burn away every inch of resistance left within him, and then he can have you.

Marc wants that, wants you in any way he can have. 

Wants you to grind up on his aching cock that’s so hard it hurts. Wants you to hold him, fingers tugging at his hair until it stings and burns. Want your legs and arms wrapped around him as he sinks inside of you, bury his cock as deep as it goes until he can never leave. 

Wants you, wants you, wants you. It echoes with fury and overtakes everything else. There’s no other brain process except this, as his hand clamps down on your waist and grinds you down on him. His traitorous hips hitching up until he can feel that perfect press of your body against his trapped and pulsing cock. 

You don’t stop him, hand coming up to the back of his neck and hold him close to you. You’re so fucking perfect letting him rub himself up against you, even when he’s acting like some stupid animal in heat. The pleasure sends him on the tip of his toes, chasing the high and it’s good, it feel so fucking– Fuck! 

His eyes slam open, tearing himself away from you. You’re blinking up at him with a confused look. 

The fuck is he doing? 

With his free hand, he moves you out of the range of the shower until your back is pressed against the opposite wall. 

He’s such an idiot, he’s such a fucking stupid– his cheeks burn and prickle, sweat stinging his back underneath the waterlogged shirt. He needs to cool down. Get his head straight. Needs to rid himself of this burning inferno of a hellfire that is roaring under his skin. 

A shower, a cold fucking shower. He needs to calm the fuck down. Needs to– Marc moves back towards the tap and turns it back on. 

“Marc! No! Stop!”

You’re leaping forward into the shower again, uncaring of being in the firing range of the cold water cascading from the showerhead, as you reach for the tap to turn it off. 

“You’re fucking freezing, you need to stop. Marc, I need to get you out of the shower. We need to warm you up. Where’s the keys?” 

He ignores you, tries to wrangle you away from the shower with his back and shoulders, wrestling his path to the tap again. 

You slap at his hand. “Marc, no!” you bark. “Stubborn fucking –” 

He knocks your hand away from the tap, turning it again as he tries to block the ensuing shower from you with his shoulders, and you growl in frustration. 

“Fine, fine! You want the water on, it stays on, but you have to let me–” you shove your way back to the front of the tap, turning the hot water on. It takes a few moments but then the punishing coldness turns lukewarm and almost comforting against his stinging skin. 

“There,” you murmur and back away enough until you’re both staring up at each other again. The water is hitting you too, drenching and soaking your clothes as you peer up at him cautiously. 

“Should I help you take your clothes off? It’ll be more comfortable for you this way,” you say the words slowly, giving him the time to react before you move. 

The logical part in him that’s still intact knows he should stop you. Should tell you to leave before he loses the last of his sanity and tries to maul you like an animal again. 

But his tongue is heavy in his mouth. All his words are failing him, and as you inch closer to him, all he can do is stare up at you, silently begging you– to go, to stay, to abandon him, to touch him, to run, to help him– until he doesn’t know anymore what he wants, and ducks his head to the ground. 

“I can help you if you want to,” you tell him. 

His eyes squeeze shut. He’s so fucking useless. He swore to never let this happen again to you, never put you in that situation again and here the two of you are not even 48 hours later, in the exact same fucking seat. He’s no better than Steven at this. Useless at protecting you. Instead you’re the one trying to take care of him. Maybe you’d be better off with Jake in the saddle. 

“You shouldn’t have to hel–” he starts, but you cut him off. 

“I want to help you,” you enunciate each word and syllable, leaving no room for doubt, as you’re facing up to him in challenge. Then your eyes soften as does your voice. “But I don’t want to force anything on you that you don’t want.” 

There’s a brief silence and the only thing he can hear is the water falling from the shower. Then, “Marc, look at me.” You say it softly, it doesn’t sound like an order, but not quite a request either as Marc tips his head up to meet your gaze. “I’m not going to touch you unless you want to. But I’m gonna stay here with you until this passes. I’m not going anywhere.”

He stares up at you like an idiot, eyes drawn to that determined look in your eyes that he knows he can never win against, and he feels his resolve fail him. 

“Is it okay if I take off your clothes?” you ask again.

And until he gives you an answer, he realizes, you’re going to ask him again and again. You’re so persistent, more than a goose. He loves that about you and he doesn’t know how to say no to you anymore, even if he had wanted to (which he doesn't, not really). 

So he doesn’t, instead he nods. 

You move slow, giving him plenty of time to change his mind. Your hands come to the soggy hem of his shirt, drawing it up against his torso and over his head. Fingertips scraping under the bare naked skin underneath as you go, and it fucking tingles. It tingles and burns and smolders until his insides are on fire, and for a second, Marc is sure that his knees can no longer carry his weight and he’s going to tip over and capsize. 

He leans down his head for balance, and you’re there to catch him. You ground him, as you always do. He rests his forehead against yours and for a moment, the roaring noise of blazing fire in his veins stops. It’s quiet and calm in his head. 

“You okay?” you ask, staring up at him, eyes gentle, as you go slow. 

“Yeah.” 

His shirt is left hanging on the shower rail, where his hand is still cuffed to it. Then your fingers come to the front of his jeans, nail tapping against the metal button and his cock jerks and strains against the wet and heavy material in anticipation. 

Popping open the button, you undo his fly, and the too-strict pressure of the material finally eases. He squirms, “Fuck, baby,” he gasps out, raw and broken. 

You hush him, sweet and comfortingly, with your lips pressed close to his ear, “do you want me to touch you?” 

His mouth feels thick and dry, everything turned into cotton against the roof of his mouth. He swallows, taking another long breath and holds it deep as he tries to get himself together. He’s weak, useless. Can’t get anything right. Can’t even say no when he knows he should. 

“Marc?” you ask again and he inhales deeply to calm himself, then nods. 

You smile, sweet and bright, and…relieved. You look so relieved and… happy, even. It makes it better. Makes him feel a little bit less of a colossal fuck up that you’re doing this for him when you’re smiling at him like that. Your head tips up, lips pressing up against his, and that helps too. With his eyes closed, listening to the sound of your soft hums as he licks into your mouth, he can almost pretend to himself that this is okay. 

Your hand wraps around his cock, squeezing firm and tight in that perfect way that you know he likes. It's relief and pleasure and warmth all wrapped into one, as everything inside him buzzes with a quiet soothing noise that drowns out the rest.

Your soft lips, drags downwards, mouthing at his neck, teeth nipping at his shoulder. He’s still aching, but it feels good. It doesn’t hurt this time, instead everything lingers pleasantly as your lips drift further down, soft plushness dragging against the sore muscle, down the slope of his belly and–wait! What’re you– 

His eyes fly open. He’s staring at the empty walls again. You’re no longer standing face to face with him and his head drops down. The sight that greets him slams into his ribs until he nearly doubles over. Fuck. 

You’re on your knees on the wet bathroom floor, tucked between his legs. Staring up at his cock through your water-lined lashes that glitters against the harsh fluorescent light. 

“Baby– wai–wait,” his words fumble and trip out of his mouth, brain unable to process the sight in front of him. He wasn’t prepared for this. “You don’t have to–” 

“Marc,” you breathe, cutting him off again. From this close distance he can feel the warmth of your mouth gust over the overwrought tip of his cock, and he nearly blacks out. Your voice sounds drippingly sweet and warm. “I know I don’t have to. I want to. Let me do this for you”.

He should stop you. You shouldn’t have to be on your knees and take care of him when he’s the one who fucked up and got himself caught in this mess. There’s a tight lump stuck in his throat that he tries to swallow down so he can speak, but it doesn’t ease and the words aren’t coming to him. 

Your hand comes to the side of his thighs, dragging the drenched denim down his legs and discard them into a sloppy pile in the corner of the floor. 

He gazes down on you, how the shower has drenched your oversized sleepshirt, until the white of it has gone see-through. The drenched cotton cling onto your skin and the curve of your breasts and his cock bobs up and strains against his stomach at the sight. Shit. 

Embarrassed heat climbs his cheeks, and judging from the smile tugging at your cheeks, you definitely noticed his reaction. You lean up, mouth brushing up against the length of his cock and press a kiss to the swollen flesh. White blinding heat streaks through his chest and his stomach draws in tight. He can’t think. 

It’s here again, that hungry ember that scalds hot in his veins. It’s overwhelming, his toes curl against the tiles, breath catching sharp in his lungs until he feels like the ground is going to swallow him up. His knees are giving out, the hard tiles gone soft and weightless beneath the sole of his feet. He’s panicking again. His hand flings out, clutching at your shoulders, fingers digging in, it’s too hard and too rough, and he shouldn’t be doing that – shouldn’t be doing anything of this, but he can’t help himself. 

One of your hands comes to rest on top of his, and you tilt your head just enough to press a soft kiss to his knuckles. 

“It’s okay, Marc. it’s okay,” you say, and with those words, the panic in him dissipates somewhat. Enough to have his fingers ease their hard grip on your shoulders, as you lean your back closer between his thighs. 

Try as he might, he can’t pretend he doesn’t want this, want you. Your mouth is inches from his cock, and he can see the incriminating precome welling up at the tip, where it shines slick, giving him away. His breath constricts in his chest, as he waits for you. 

You lean closer, and he catches the pink tip of your tongue as it darts out to lick at the liquid dribbling down the length of him. His spine seizes up at the barely there contact, an ugly noise tearing from his throat. 

“Marc, you okay?” you ask, and when he blinks down at you, lips slick with him, he feels undone. “Should I keep going?” 

Marc swallows down the whimper that is lingering dangerously at the tip of his tongue that wants to leap out. He nods a little bit too frantically in response and he barely has the time to meet your eyes, and how it glitters with pride at his reaction. Then your lips part and you envelop his cock in the perfect sweet warmth of your mouth. 

An electrical static noise crackles in his head. Your mouth is so fucking good. Soft silk wrapped all around him. Your tongue slides softly over the ridge of his cock and sweet aching bliss twines through his limbs. It’s slow and languid, the tip of your tongue darting out with soft, fluttering licks against his oversensitive flesh as you take your time and try to murder him. You’re succeeding too. 

Heat carves through him sharp and intense. With the way his heart is trying to pound its way through flesh and muscle and out of his chest, he’s pretty sure he’s only got minutes to spare before his heart entirely gives out and he drops dead on the bathroom floor. 

You’re so ridiculously gorgeous. Eyes half-lidded as you stare up at him with unwavering attention. 

It’s bliss. It’s torture. It’s heaven and hell. Marc doesn’t know up from down anymore. All he knows as his cock slides between your lips, wet and slippery and so fucking good, is that he doesn’t want it to stop.  

For all the composure he’s trained into himself for years and decades, he can’t seem to find an ounce of it to draw from in this moment. He never can as far as you're concerned. His hands fists at his side, every muscle in him tensing, trying to stop the way his hips cants up with small thrusts into your mouth. But it’s not working. His body is betraying him, refusing to stay still. 

Good, it feels so– The burning flame under his skin is back, the whole of his body is wracked in warm pleasant shivers and he wants to curl into your touch. 

You hum, a small quiet little sound as you suck on the tip and he can feel the pleasant vibrations of it skitter up his entire spine. He jackknifes forward, pressing further into your mouth and fuck, he can feel the head of his cock nudge against the resistance of your throat. He stops there. Makes himself stop, ignores how every muscle in him is screaming for him to move. His cock pulses eagerly on your tongue, desperate for friction. But he ignores it. 

He can’t have this for himself. Doesn’t deserve it. 

“Come back up here, need to make you feel good baby. Let me- fuck let me make you feel good,” he says, even as his balls are drawing up, cock going somehow even harder, swelling and throbbing on your tongue. 

Marc swears, bites down on his lip hard until he tastes blood, and clenches every damn muscle in his body as he backs away, and slides himself out between your lips. Somehow, miraculously, he manages to hold on. His damn dick jerks and bounces spasmodically, oozing precome all over the damn floor as he struggles for control.  And through it all you just smile indulgently up at him, eyes gleaming, the pearly edge of your teeth digging into that perfectly plump lower lip.

He wonders if you even fucking heard him, because you’re leaning back in towards him, and wrap your mouth back around his cock. That inescapable fire is building at the base of his spine, threatening to burn him to the ground, but he can’t let himself come yet. He can’t because then it will be over, and you’ll have given this to him, and he doesn’t fucking deserve it. 

Marc doesn't deserve you, period. But he definitely doesn't deserve to have you on your knees like this for his miserable ass. Doesn't deserve that warm, worshipful mouth, slicking and sliding so perfectly over his aching cock. Perfect lips stretched tight around him as you struggle to take him as deep as you can. Doesn't deserve the way your hand alternates between clutching at him and petting so gently over his skin. Doesn't deserve the loving look in your eyes. Has to close his own eyes against the sight of you or this is all going to be over in about half a second.

But somehow that's even fucking worse, behind closed eyes it makes the feeling of it all the more acute. There's nothing there to distract him. He can't escape the feel of your clever tongue and perfect wet heat of your mouth wrapped around him in the blank darkness. The way your tongue curls around him. You’re moaning just slightly with each press forward, and he can feel the vibrations of it along every throbbing inch of his dick. It's fucking killing him.

“Let me–I can’t stop, I can’t–” He’s sobbing, the sound raw and needy as it wrenches out of his throat. Pleasure sears through his entire back. 

He's trying to hold still. He's fucking trying. But his legs are fucking shaking. Trembling thighs threatening to dump him on his ass any second, and he can't seem to control the way his hips are hitching forward in tiny abortive thrusts, seeking more even as he knows he should be jerking back, pulling away, and convincing you to let him make you feel good instead. but you don't seem to mind at all. 

Fuck, you seem to love it, moaning louder every time he loses the battle with his instincts. 

This is so wrong. He’s not in his right mind, not in control. You should be shoving him away, but instead you’re clutching at his ass with one hand, fingernails digging in as you encourage him to thrust harder, deeper. Tiny sharp bites of pain that just seem to add to the maelstrom of pleasure twisting and building in his gut.

Marc opens his mouth, determined to make one more attempt at convincing you, but then you swallow around him, moan around him, and all that comes out is a guttural groan. 

"Ba-baby-," he stutters out. He tugs on your hair, trying desperately to be gentle, but he's not entirely sure he manages it. You let him pull you off, one torturous inch at a time, and he barely manages to stop the thrust of his hips, the instinctual need to chase your mouth.

You look up at him, all wide eyes and slick, swollen lips. One long shiny string of spit or precome of both still connecting the two of you.

Oh shit,  how is he supposed to resist when you’re looking at him like that? Like he's actually worth a damn, when you’re the one who's worth anything, everything. He can’t, he was crazy to think he ever fucking could.

"Marc," you say, tone mildly reproachful. Your voice is hoarse... from swallowing his cock, and for a second, he thinks that's fucking it for him.  

Close, so fucking close. It’s pushing and clawing at every stitch and seam inside of his skin and he is unraveling. No wonder Steven lost it. No wonder he gave in. Marc can taste his climax at the tip of his tongue, dangling precariously on the fine thread of his fragile sanity. He squeezes his eyes shut. Tries to block it out. 

“Let go,” you hum, and you press your mouth to the trembling muscle on the inside of his thigh that makes him jolt up and nearly swallow his tongue. “You don’t have to hold on anymore. I want you to come. Want you to come in my mouth.”

Fuuuuck. 

You kiss your way up, and he’s trying desperately to hold on, to hold back. But he can’t, not when he feels your tongue trail the underside of his cock with a long wet and devoted line. Not when you’re kissing his hips. Not when you put that perfect mouth of yours back on his cock and swallow him down. 

Your hand wraps around the base of his cock, where your mouth can’t reach, giving it a firm stroke downwards, and his toes tingle. His whole body is shaking uncontrollably now. The pleasure is almost unbearable. his muscles jerking and twitching uncontrollably with every slide of those pretty lips.

That insidious flame flickers at the base of his spine ominously. Warning him of what’s to come. It feels too fucking good, he can’t deny himself of this anymore. His orgasm swells up, large and looming, rushing out along every nerve ending and won’t be ignored. 

“Baby, fuckfuck, please– I can’t–can’t,” he opens his eyes, and looks down on you and fuck that’s such a mistake. You’re looking up at him, a dark pitch that bleeds into your blown pupils. His eyes slam back shut again because he can't survive the hungry look in your eyes.

But it’s already too late. 

His orgasm is consuming, large and looming as it’s trying to eat him whole. It wraps around his flesh and licks down to the marrow. From the curl of his toes, searing through his thighs until it’s permanently carved somewhere deep into his ribs, as he comes down your throat. Leaving nothing but a tingling ache in its wake.

It feels endless, the way he keeps pulsing into your mouth. Cock twitching against your lips, riding out his oversensitivity at your lapping tongue. 

He’s moaning and whimpering, toes skidding along the wet tiles as he desperately tries to find his footing. There’s nothing left but his undeniable surrender. Letting you take as much as you want from him. Until he’s empty and the blazing blue flame in his veins is sated and wrung dry from your attentive tongue. 

There’s clarity again. The dust and smoke clears until there’s only a faint smell of ashes lingering in the back of his mind and he feels like he can think again. His muscles ache with the soreness, and as he takes a long inhale, oxygen floods his head with a rush. Sweet fucking relief, he can breathe again. 

It doesn’t last very long. His eyes open, to see you smile up at him, bleary eyed and messy, drenched hair plastered on your forehead. The water from the shower is still running down your face as you’re trying to catch your breath.

You look like a mess. He did that to you, and you look so fucking good like this.

It’s all it takes, and the insidious heat licks at his bones, corrupting his blood again. The hunger in him returns with a devastating scream in his flesh. His mouth salivates, like what came before was only an appetizer. Now he’s gotten a taste and he’s hungrier than he was before. 

It makes him gain a new sympathy for Steven and the hell the man must’ve gone through with you two nights ago.

Fuck what’s wrong with him. Marc’s already gotten one release. That should’ve sated him. But he can already feel the simmering hunger gain hold again. All it did was make that selfish hungry monster inside him more insatiable. The greedy need claws at his veins, refusing to be ignored anymore.

There’s a knowing look in your eyes that makes his heart seize up. “Do you need more? Do you want to go again?” you ask. 

He swallows around the constricting lump of guilt lodged deep in his throat, blinking up at you, unable to answer. Unable to open his mouth to ask. You’ve given him too much already, he can’t ask for more. 

“It’s okay, Marc. You can ask me.”

You say it with that voice. Breathless, filled with love and affection, like you’d offer him the world if he asked you for it, and it’s not right, he’s the one that should be doing that. The one to give you everything. Yet somehow he keeps finding himself in this seat where he’s the one taking and you’re the one giving. 

“I’m here,” you tell him. “It’s going to be okay, I’m not going anywhere until you’re okay.”

Shit. His chest squeezes tight. The feeling is so large and overwhelming his veins are overbrimming with it. But he never knew how to tell you with words. So he shows you in the only way he’s ever known. 

He drops down to his knees, ignoring the strain in his shoulder from the hand still cuffed tight to the shower. His free hand reaches for you, cupping the back of your neck to pull you in, His mouth slant over yours, and he swallows the sweet affectionate hum between your lips. 

I love you. 

That’s what he’d say if he knew how to. 

I love you and I want to be everything to you. 

He cups your face in his one free hand, thumb smoothing over your cheekbone as he tilts you up to his mouth and kisses you. Your mouth parts, letting him lick into into your mouth properly. You still taste of him. Tart and salty, and the taste of him on your tongue makes him lightheaded. 

Needy heat rolls over his back, and he can feel it again. The demanding hunger that is consuming his insides. The one that wants him to sink his teeth into your soft and pliant flesh, lick and nip at every inch of wet skin you’ll let him as he tries to swallow you whole. It’s not enough. Kissing you isn’t enough. He wants you pressed up against every inch of him. Wants your body lined against his, your legs spread wide as he settles between them. Wants your back arching up against him, breathless and keen as he buries himself inside you. 

He leans further down, pressing you downwards until he has you flat on your back against the cold and hard tiles, and he should do better by you. Should take you into bed, where it’s soft and warm. Nice and sweet. Not fuck you against the dirty floor of Steven’s dirty bathroom like some savage. 

But his body isn’t listening to him, surging down to reclaim your lips as he grinds his hips and cock against the softness of your stomach. He’s hard again, or maybe he never went down for the count, he doesn’t know. All he knows is that he’s aching for you. All of him dying to be buried inside of you to the hilt. 

Pleasure sparks deep in his veins at the contact, and he does it again, grinds himself needily into you, smearing precome over the fabric of your already soaked sleepshirt. God he’s such a mess, he’s ruining your clothes. 

He forces himself up again, kneeling over your body, as he stares down at you. He’s made such a fucking mess of things… of you. Your face is wet from the shower, hair matted against your forehead, and your shirt is soaked and opaque clinging wetly to your skin underneath. The sight of you makes his mouth dry with heat. 

Behind him, the spray of the shower is raining down lukewarm water over his back. It should calm him, that’s why he turned the damn thing on in the first place, but it doesn’t. He can’t even feel it anymore, can barely hear the sound of the shower drizzling down like rain. Instead it’s all turned to static noise inside his head. 

The only thing he sees is your pretty face look up at him, warm and affectionate, and so fucking loving, and he feels sick with want over you. 

“Baby, you gotta tell me to stop,” he forces out, and his hand draws down between his legs to grip his aching cock, that’s throbbing in time with his heartbeat. 

“If it gets too much– you have to–” 

You rise up to meet him, curling one arm around his neck until you’re face to face, so close that your nose nudges his. Your hand reaches down between you, wrapping your hand over his, and your eyes never falter from his, as you shove your panties to the side and guide his hand to notch his cock against your entrance. 

Fuck, you’re dripping. He’s not even inside, and he can feel you slick and warm and wet against the head of his cock. 

“Can you feel that?” you murmur, against his lips. “How wet you got me? I need this too. Need you to fuck your cock inside me, Marc.” 

Shit. 

He snaps. Plain and simple. 

He thrusts down and into you with a long and deep consuming stroke and it’s fucking everything. 

Ecstasy rushes into his bloodstream with a heady sugary rush, and he chases it with his hips, burying his cock inside as deep as you can take him, until it nudges something sweet and blissful that has you clawing at his arm with a gorgeous sob ripped from your throat. 

And it’s so good, so fucking good, he wants to crawl into that sound and nestle into it. He drags himself out of you, until only the overwrought tip of his cock rests inside you, watching you bite down on your lip to muffle your sounds, and that won’t do. Marc wants to hear you. Wants you to scream so loud his ears ring from pain with it. Fuck, he wants to go deaf with it. Wants the sound of your voice obliterate him until it echoes in his ears til the day he dies.

His arm moves to your leg, curling around your thigh to pull you in closer towards his torso, canting you upwards, tilting you at that angle that he knows will make you cry for him. Then he slams forward, his thighs tense, burning with the pleasure that threatens to incinerate him. You’re so fucking tight around him. It’s heaven if Marc ever believed in one. 

Your fingers tighten down on him, nails digging into his skin and the biting pain only makes the pleasure of it all the more ripe and sweet as you clamp down around his cock. 

He can’t stop. Hips thrusting into you with a demanding pace like his body is no longer his own, just a conduit for him to chase that mad pleasure that skitters to his brain and has him want to go harder, deeper, until he’s lodged so deep inside that you can never rid him of you. 

It’s a selfish need that Marc would never allow himself to give voice to. He keeps it jammed under a lid and pretends it’s not there. That deep gnawing hunger that wants you all to himself and never have to share. The possessive streak in his veins that wants to mark you, fuck himself so deep into you until you can fucking taste him in your throat. 

Your legs are wrapped all around him, clamping down around his torso until he’s sure you’re constricting his lungs from the sheer force of it and he almost can’t breathe. “Shit, baby–fuck, you’re so– I–” he grinds down on his teeth, and doesn't let himself say the words, swallowing down the groan that tears through his throat. 

So good, he thinks to himself. You feel so fucking good. So warm and wet and blissfully tight around his cock. He loves you. Loves you so fucking much and he can’t stop, won’t stop– Never want to stop fucking his cock into you. 

Then he sees it. That all familiar tell that lets him know you are close. Every muscle in your body goes taut, and you’re squeezing down almost rhythmically and so tight it knocks the fucking breath out of his lungs. “That’s it baby, come on my cock for me.” 

Your eyes roll back, mouth parting as your back arches upward.

And there you go. You’re so fucking beautiful. 

You come hard and punishingly tight as you squeeze around his cock. 

The pleasure swirls hot and hungry inside his gut, and it’s all it takes to push him right over the edge with you. He spills himself inside, pulse after greedy pulse as he fills you. 

He barely manages to catch himself with a palm braced next to your head on the tiles as he tries to come down.

There’s no relief this time. Not like last time, however brief it was. This time his climax only serves to fuel the pathetic need in his chest. Like someone threw gasoline over an open fire and now it’s spreading everywhere and there’s no extinguisher in sight. 

More, the hunger inside his veins scream out. Again. 

Wants to feel you come again. Wants to feel you squeeze tight around his cock, as your lips part and moan out his name in bliss again. Want to feel your slick drench his cock as you come again and again and again and again. 

He’s still hard. 

He thrusts forward, and you cry, high pitched and broken and the sound makes the blood in his veins sing. 

You're slick and excruciatingly tight, but his come drips out of you, easing the tight press of his cock no matter how hard you squeeze down on him. 

“It’s okay baby,” he hushes, and you sob in reply even as he bends down to press a kiss to your temple. “It’s okay. You can take it for me. Doing so good. You’re being so good,” he coos, as he cants his hips and pushes into you as deeply as he can again. 

Closer. He needs you closer than this. Wants his hands to touch and grip every inch of your skin. He brings his other arm to wrap around your waist, and something tugs and restrains him from behind. It locks up his shoulder, and no matter how hard he pulls forward, he can’t quite reach you. 

You blink up at him, eyes narrowing in confusion as you watch him before your eyes widen, hand reaching up for him. “Marc, wait– you’re–” 

His free arm shoots out around your shoulders and reels you close as he captures your mouth, swallowing down your words. He’s trying to come down to you, to press you down against the floor with the weight of his body, and wrap his arms around you, and never let go. Hold you so tight to him until you can never leave. But something won’t let him. No matter how hard he strains forward the strength holding back his arm won’t budge. 

There’s a metallic groaning noise that protests as he continues to pull against the resisting strength from behind him, as he rolls his hips relentlessly into you, chasing the pleasure. It digs sharp into his wrist with a jagged pain, but he doesn’t even care. Marc wants to hold you close, wrap his arm around your leg and squeeze it tight to his hips and lock you there. 

He rips against the hindrance, with an impatient and angry snarl. The strain and resistance finally gives, and he’s free to put both his hands on you. His arms lock up tight around your waist. 

There's a cacophony of sound somewhere in the distance. Of broken dishes and sharp crashing noise, but he doesn't care. The roof could be collapsing right now and it wouldn't make any damn difference to him so long as you were still here with him.

“Fuck! Marc!”

It doesn’t even register until he hears your agitated shout. He looks up in a daze at you, Your wide and alarmed eyes. Something’s wrong. 

His head whips back, tearing himself away from you prepared to leap into action at the culprit. But that's not what he sees.

There’s debris on the wall. Bare cement in the large torn cracks of the tiled walls. There’s jagged pieces of cracked white porcelain on the floor. Debris and parts of the wall along with the showerhead and the metal rod he handcuffed himself to is lying in ruined shambles below, as the shower spits out water all around like a death rattle. 

Well fuck.  

Fuck– what is he… 

Shit!

He’s completely lost control. The familiar dread and anxiety bleeds into his veins, and he can fight it all he wants, but it’s already here. 

It wasn’t supposed to go like this. He was the one who was supposed to be able to keep it together. The one who was supposed to protect you from this and keep you safe from harm. The bitter acrid taste of failure lingers on his tongue and drips down his throat until it reaches his lungs. Embarrassment clings to his cheeks and burns like fire. His body wants to curl into itself and hide, until he’s so small no one can see him anymore, least of all you. 

“Marc, it’s okay,” you say as you plant an elbow against the slippery floor to you can raise yourself into a sitting position. Until you’re both at eye level with each other. 

“It’s okay. Just ignore it. We’ll clean it up later,” you murmur as you crawl closer to him, until your face is within inches from his and you press your mouth to his cheek. Then you climb into his lap, the firm press of your warm body straddling his thighs and he looks up at you in dazed awe. 

“Do you want to keep going?” you ask. 

Despite the fact that he knows he shouldn’t. That he shouldn’t ask this of you, he still nods, whimpering at the reassuring press of your body against his achingly hard cock. 

“As many times as it takes, okay?” Your fingers circle around the base of his cock, and he chokes on a moan, as you position him against your entrance. You’re slick and warm and fucking dripping for him. 

“Let’s keep going until you feel better. I don’t want you to hold back anymore. Is that okay?” you say.

He doesn't understand how that's a question. Of course it's okay, it's more than okay, it's all he wants. All he ever wants. He nods, and you smile at him. That warm and affectionate smile filled with love and it fills him to the brim. He feels like his heart is going to give out again. There's no more space for shame anymore, the way your smile crowds his vision and every inch of space inside him.

You lift your hips slightly, then you lower your knees, slowly sinking down on his cock until he’s buried all the way inside you, squeezing down around his cock in that perfect way you do, and he can’t fucking think. 

You’re looking down at him like you’re expecting him to answer and he doesn’t even remember how to open his mouth and use vocal cords anymore, fuck he doesn’t even remember what the question was. 

“Marc,” you repeat, 

He still doesn’t know what you’re asking him. But it doesn’t matter does it? When it comes to you, he’s never going to say no to you. So he answers you with the only answer he has. 

“Yes.”

It must be the right answer you were looking for, because you’re looking at him in that way again, smiling up brightly at him, like he’s worth a damn, worth everything to you. He knows that you’re wrong about that. He doesn’t deserve it. But it fills his chest with something sweet and heady. An antidote to the poisonous fire that’s still burning hot and bitter in his veins. He doesn’t fight it. Doesn’t fight the warm buzz that’s trickling slowly into his veins and lets himself bask in it. 

After all, who is he to say no to you? 

You roll your hips against him and your eyes flutter close with a gasp as his cock hits something deep inside, and both of you moan at the feeling as he tightens his arms around your waist. 

You lean closer, lips pressed to his ear, “I love you, Marc” you whisper in the hair above his ears and his whole back shudders pleasantly. 

He tilts his head upwards, his nose brushing up against your chin and cheeks as he tries to find his way back to your mouth. 

Marc might not deserve you. But you deserve everything you want and more, and if Marc is one of those things (for whatever unfathomable reason that he will never understand)… then that makes things a little bit easier for him. 

He wakes with a pounding headache. 

The muscles in his shoulders and back are stiff and sore, cramping up with a sharp throb as he tries to get up. Every limb aches. He feels like he was hit by a fucking truck going at full speed down a highway. 

“Morning,” your voice greets, as your hand comes to his forehead and rests there as if you’re checking for his temperature. It’s soft and soothing, a balm to the ache in body and he fights every instinct to not nuzzle into the palm of your hand. “How are you feeling?”

“Like shit,” he replies. His voice scrapes against the lining of his throat, like something crawled up in there and died. 

He can hear you laugh quietly at his reply, and despite how crap he feels, the sound seeps into his chest and the stiffness melts just a little bit. The bed dips as you sit down on the edge next to him. 

“How long was I out for?” 

“Not too long. Just a bit. You needed the rest,” you answer, and it's entirely too vague for his liking. 

He anchors his elbow into the soft bedding below and despite the angry creak of the mattress and the protesting groan in his bones, he tries to get up into a sitting position. His head feels lightheaded with the sudden altitude, like he’s about to throw up all over the sheets. It’s like he’s experiencing the world’s worst hangover, the second time in less two days. As soon as he gets his hand on that sex sprite, he’s going to fling it into the surface of the sun. Don’t care how upset that will make Min’s avatar. 

Bringing his hand to his face, he rubs at his temples and the blunt throbbing pain that’s killing his head, when it occurs to him. His wrist feels light and unimpeded, there’s no sharp metal digging into his wrist.  He stares down at his now bare wrist, then he looks up at you in confusion. 

“Jake told me where the key was,” you answer. 

He frowns, but holds his tongue. That means at some point while Marc was still unconscious, Jake must've woken up without him being aware. Marc doesn’t love that. He’s still not completely at ease with Jake being around you. Especially when he’s unconscious and can’t keep an eye out to step in and protect you if something were to go wrong. 

As if something hasn’t already.

Marc is such a hypocrite, talking about protecting you as if he isn’t the very wolf at your door, fangs poised at your throat. 

Your thumb smooths over his knuckles, as you nudge his leg with your knees.  “Should I make you some coffee? Maybe some breakfast. Can whip up some omelets for you.”

He shakes his head. “No I gotta get up. Try to catch that thing before it does more damage again.”

He should tell you to leave. It’s not safe for you here. But he knows you’re going to fight him tooth and nail over it. 

“Oh, there’s no need for that,” you say as you rise from the bed, “stay there for just a sec will you?” 

You walk up to the Gus trio’s tank, sliding a few books around, and pick something up before you make your way back to him, holding an all too familiar brass-metal box in the palm of your hand outstretched to him. 

He can see from the shape on the golden lid the puzzle sequence has been properly completed, just like that obnoxious Avatar had shown him. Locked and sealed.

“How did you–” he sputters out in shock as he eyes it. 

“Steven sealed it for me.”

He blinks, feeling a little bit stunned as he takes the box from you. “How did you get it back in there in the first place.”

“You said that it liked small cramped spaces with a lid. I figured it couldn’t have gotten far from the flat like last time. So I just started opening every single item in the place with a lid. It hid in an empty shoebox this time.” 

Marc grits his teeth. “That’s dangerous, it could’ve possessed you.”

You wave your hands dismissively at his concerns. “It’s alright. I had a fly-swatter,” you answer, like that answers everything and Marc’s just being silly. 

“You what?”

“A flyswatter. I just swatted at it until it finally got back into the box. Had to chase it around the flat, reopening every jar and box in the flat for a good hour or so until it got the hint.” 

He wants to scold you, want to point out everything that could’ve gone wrong and how you should have just ran out of the apartment and gotten yourself to safety. It’s a speech he’s made a hundred times before, but you never listened then either, and those times you didn’t have the upper hand with the argument, given that he passed out and you saved the day. 

So he bites his tongue. 

“Hey,” you say softly as your hand comes to cup his cheek. “Everything worked out fine alright? It’s a happy ending. You don’t have to look so sad.” 

He bites the insides of his cheek. Flashes of you under him, soft and moaning, legs spread and wrapped around him, invading in startling technicolor.

“I’m…” he wants to say sorry, but the word won't come. His hand curls into a fist to his side with unease. “That shouldn’t have happened. I shouldn’t have let you stay and do that for me”.

“Marc, it’s not a punishment for me to have sex with you. This shouldn't come as a surprise to you by now, but I like having sex with you.” 

He doesn’t answer you, just stares blindly at his feet at the end of the bed, as the guilt crawls in his gut and tries to consume him. Maybe he should let it. It’s what he deserves after all. 

You scoot closer to him, an exasperated but fond look in your eyes as you take his hand in yours. “You see Marc, when two adults love each other very much,” you sing-song and start to jokingly explain to him about the bird and the bees.

Despite himself he can feel the smile tugging at his lips, and the gnawing anxiety fades a bit. You think you’re so fucking funny sometimes (and to Marc you are), but he isn’t going to let the laugh that wants to push up against his throat betray him. You meet his smile with your own, and that helps to take away the last of that sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. 

“Can you promise me that next time something like this happens again, you won't run away… or lock yourself in the bathroom to deal with it all by yourself? We’ll handle it together alright?”

Marc meets the look in your eye. It's the same one that he keeps finding somehow even though he never quite understands why, of love and adoration for him.

A part of him wants to fight it, push it away because he doesn't deserve it... But your soft voice echoes in his ear. The weight of your arms wrapped around his shoulders still lingers from before. 'I love you', you had told him, and whether he deserves your love or not is maybe not the point. You love him regardless. And who is he to say no to you?

“Yeah,” Marc nods. “Together.”

a/n: to be notified of new writing updates follow astroboots-writes and turn on notifs.

Happy Moon-aversary everyone!!! I can't believe I'm still here a whole year after this show premiered. When I first saw that trailer with Oscar Isaac's strange british accent I remember telling @thirstworldproblemss I was sceptical and then I watched about 5 minutes of Steven on screen and went "oh no, I'm in love with this man" and the rest is history.

I hope you guys enjoyed this piece as much as I enjoyed writing it, thank you so much for taking the time to read it I appreciate all of you so very much.

Dedications and credit: To my co-worker, co-clown and the love of my life @thirstworldproblemss she's had a busy few months and she is everything to me please go over and send her some love if you have time!!!!

Also to my muse @guruan who draws horny sketches and the most inspiring artpieces that makes me write near 13k of blowjob for this man. That blowjob scene was particularly inspired by THIS sketch. Send her love! Send her reblogs, send her everything you have and more!

[torialefay]

🪐 Venus in Scorpio 🦂

(based on astrology) 🔞

✨bangchan x reader (f); this is literally just smut with a little bit of astrology lol

✨word count: ~3.5k

✨first part in a series!!! (The next ones won’t be so horny, i promise lol) Together, let’s take a look into chan’s natal chart to see what type of boyfriend he would be… this one just so happens to involve the smuttiest of the smut lol

✨i will give a brief synopsis of what each chart placement means throughout the series (for all my non-astrology friends out there <3) and how that would affect channie in a relationship :)

✨ author’s notes:

(1) i have seen some stays come to the general consensus that chan’s birth time is 8:54 pm, but i have never found a source where he states or confirms this. if you have the proof, let me know and i will re-do this post! otherwise, i do not want to speculate about birth time, as it can affect many aspects of his chart!

- *UPDATE*: some sweet stays confirmed this birth time! so we’re good to carry on :)

(2) since his birth time is unknown (to my knowledge), some aspects of his chart cannot be determined, such as house placements, ascending sign, etc. i will ONLY be writing about his definitive placements, which are his sun, moon, and planetary placements.

(3) the aspects in this reading are based solely on my opinions and interpretations! nothing about a person is set in stone simply because of astrology. please don’t use anything i say as canon :)

✨warnings: extreme smut. you have been warned; minors DNI!!!

Venus in Scorpio: Venus is the planet of beauty and love (it is the ruler of Libra, so of course!). This accounts for both platonic and romantic love.

-Scorpios are known for their moodiness, emotion, intellect, and captivating auras. They love and find beauty in the darkest of things… Think moody tumblr bf chan. This is literally his venus in scorpio

-Because Venus in Scorpio has a very dark energy, he will most likely be attracted to dark, feminine, alluring beauty. It also explains why he is attracted to the color black and wears it often.

As your boyfriend:

• chan is borderline obsessed with you. maybe actually obsessed with you. on a level that transcends superficial. he is obsessed with your soul. in a way, he feels like he can SEE it. he gets so frustrated with himself because he feels that he can never get close enough to you. he will never be close enough to you until he joins his soul with yours. he quite literally wants to consume your mind and spirit. to live with it- live inside of you- as if it was he himself.

• he is extremely possessive over you. he cannot even think about another man touching you. although he may not say anything at first, males giving you any sort of attention would deeply bother him, as he feels like your souls are tied to each other. and how dare someone try to take what is his.

• if he sees you with his members and thinks you are getting too close, he won’t bother mentioning it to you. he will take that member aside and establish some ground rules. it is fine to play around with you, but any emotional investment they make into you is not okay and will not be tolerated.

• he waits to have sex with you. for a couple of months even. the tension between you two is absolutely insane, but he waits. he wants to know you, body and soul, before he takes any part of you. because for chan, sex means something, he knows how amazing you are, that’s why he fell for you in the first place. and he wants to be perfect for you and fully know you before there’s no going back

• the first time you have sex is absolutely magical. Better than you could have dreamt. He wants to make it special for you, for his special girl. He waits until the right time and until he knows you are ready. He has planned a lavish date for the two of you, a beautiful private dinner tucked away in a forest, illuminated with what seemed like a million candles and dazzling lights. A private chef had cooked for you and left, leaving the two of you in each others’ company.

• Every night with him is special, but this night is different

• He is incredibly gentle with you all night, whispering how beautiful you look and taking your hand ever so gently into his.

• He makes sure to repeat to you how lucky he feels to be in this moment with you and how lucky he is to have you

• He looks so beautiful in the candle light, stars in his eyes that are focused on your own. Occasionally they peer down to your lips, but then slowly move back up to look into the deepest parts of you.

• After dinner, he swiftly peppers you with kisses and holds your waist with one hand, the other hand intertwining with your own. He leads you to the car and drives home, taking his time to make sure his girl makes it there safe.

• When inside, he continued the beautiful candle theme, now with flower petals and another new bouquet. He kisses along your neck until you sigh deeply and give in under the weight of his chest

• He gently sits you down on the bed while maintaining a deep kiss, cupping underneath your chin so gently that you thought he was scared to break you

• His tongue slipped into your parted lips, and something gutteral suddenly came out of him at the feeling of being inside of you in some capacity

• His grip on your chin started to become tighter, moving down to your neck. He couldn’t separate his lips from you for fear that you’d fall away from him entirely. He hung on to you for dear life. Hungrily tugging at your bottom lip, he tried to pull you as far into him as he could without physically devouring you.

• He started to get so worked up that he couldn’t bare it anymore. He needed more of you. He needed to feel you and to transcend you. His girl, and only his girl. He needed to make you HIS.

• His hands started moving down your body, grabbing firmly as if he wasn’t sure you were really there. Your shoulders, your collarbones, your chest. God, he couldn’t believe the way that you felt underneath him.

• “Can I?” He broke away from the kiss to ask you this much. He couldn’t bare the thought of you saying no, but he would never jeopardize this love he had for you. Love… Adoration… Wonder... Obsession…

• When you breathily panted out a “yes”, he made quick but gentle work to lift your dress from the bottom of your pelvis, all the way lifting it up over your head and off. So gently, so so gently so that he didn’t mess up a single hair on your beautiful little head.

• The way you looked under the candle light took his breath away. The curves of your body left him in awe. So unlike his hard, squared, and rigid frame. You were soft, you had shapes along the lines of you, and you were fucking beautiful, he thought. He could not believe you were really for him.

• He looked down to your breasts, then back up at you, again asking for permission with his eyes. With an approving nod, he reached out to hold one in each hand. Rubbing back and forth across your nipples over the protection of your thin bra. He just kept watching you, starved to know what reactions you would give him.

• He trailed one hand down until he was positioned right over your underwear.

• Looking into your eyes, searching for any kind of resistance in them, he slightly parted his lips and licked them, moaning ever so slightly while pressing his hand with a light pressure into the fabric of your underwear. You felt him almost pull back a bit, looking a bit dazed and slightly overwhelmed, so you pushed into him yourself.

• Staring at you from above, he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. His perfect girl, feeling perfect, because of him. He applied more pressure and watched as you started to grind against his hand. He let out a moan and felt his dick twitch just hearing your breathing start to quicken.

• He didn’t want to push his luck, but he also knew that he could do better. He could make you feel so so much better. Slowly, he put his other hand on your stomach to slow you from grinding down on him. His other hand made its way underneath your underwear and started to ever so slightly drag his fingers along the outside of you. Feeling how wet you were made him stop and want to fucking scream. To cry. He could barely understand the emotions he was feeling. He just knew that he couldn’t stop loving you if he tried. Now, he wanted to worship you.

• He inserted 1 finger slowly, letting you adjust. When your face started to relax and look like one of pleasure, his dick became rock hard. He needed more of you so badly.

• Once he knew you were comfortable, he added another finger and watched your face. He watched the way that it curled up and how your mouth dropped open. He noted the way that your eyes squeezed shut and how you sounded when you breathed out so close to his neck.

• He began to pump his fingers into you, slowly until he knew you felt good, and then picking up ever so slightly. He curled his fingers up slightly and waited for your reaction.

• Fuck, did he get a reaction. When he heard you whine his name, it echoed in his head over and over again. “Chan. Chan. Chan.” He has never loved hearing his own name more than in this moment. His perfect girl. He couldn’t control himself anymore.

• He started to slam his fingers into you and leaned down to take in the entirety of your mouth. He thrust his tongue inside, and sucked on every inch of your lips he could get ahold of. He didn’t care if it was too rough. He didn’t care about anything anymore other than marking you forever as his own. Marking you as a part of his soul, and him a part of yours. After tonight, you would be inexplicably joined forever, living as one. You wouldn’t have to be his obsession anymore if you lived in him. He would simply always have you.

• He pulled from the kiss abruptly and stared at your face. He memorized how beautiful you looked with your eyes rolling into the back of your head. Almost like you were possessed by him, he thought. And that is all that he wanted. He would possess every part of you. He began to stare at you, dauntingly. “Look at me,” he ordered sternly, until your head slowly came upward to hold his eye contact. There was something different in his eyes. Like he was hungry.

• “I’m going to count to 10, and I want you to come for me.” He didn’t ask for permission. He said it so matter-of-factly he could have been telling you his name. Something must have switched in him directly after though, following up with a low “Okay princess?”

• Surprised at his own switch, he couldn’t believe how you did that to him. How you activated so many different parts of his brain at the same time. How every inch of you controlled what little brain capacity he had left. His soul almost left his body when he heard you gather your small voice enough to say, “Yes, my love.”

• “10,” he said, almost sheepishly, as if waiting to see what your reaction would be. Pumping his fingers now even harder into you, you let out a small moan. It agged him on.

• “9,” he came in close to your ear, starting to lick and suck ever so slightly around the outside. Anything gentle about him had left his body.

• “8,” he dipped his tongue inside your ear, licking away in slow, tiny motions. He felt like he was savoring every second he could have with you. You felt too good underneath him to not tease you a little bit.

• “7,” he moved to the area between your ear and jaw. He bit and sucked at it. He sucked so hard you thought he would rip into you. Somehow he didn’t,

• “6,” he dipped down now to your neck, licking all the way as he went. Intermittent kisses and licks peppered down until he had found his target. The sweet spot right where your neck ended to meet your collar bone.

• “5” he bit down. The look on your face of pain with excruciating pleasure was all he needed to see.

• “4… almost there my sweet girl,” he breathed out against the new-forming bruise at the base of your neck. His fingers started to slam into you and angle in just the right spot. As he heard you mumble “fuck” under your breath, he pulled his face up to be right in front of yours. He wanted to see you when you came for him. He wanted to see you when you gave yourself fully to him.

• “3” he wandered his other hand down to rub small circles around your clit. Light enough to make you jump and writhe under his touch. He loved to watch you squirm like that. He loved the control he had over you. When he heard you mouth his name again, he started slamming into you relentlessly with his fingers. ‘Say it again, say it again, know whose you are,’ he thought to himself. “Hmmm?” He teased. “Fuuuuck Chris,” you cried out to him. This was it. He was going to fucking take you.

• “2… I want you to fucking take it baby... Take it for me. You can do it.” He continued to slam into you, fingers still making light circles on your clit. He had never seen a face in such ecstasy. He brought his face down until his forehead was touching your own. Nose to nose. He looked into your eyes like it was the first time he’d ever seen love. Real love. Real passion. He was sure that this was the first time had seen love. But even more, this was the first time he had ever known love. Love and y/n were synonymous to him now. He was never going to live without you again, not after this moment. He craved you and he needed you. He was going to make sure that he had you for the rest of eternity.

• “You’re mine,” he whispered against your mouth, and then bit down heavy onto your bottom lip, moaning into you. Heavy, like he was going to devour you until there was nothing left. Like you were the most delicious thing he had ever taken a bite of. And he planned to consume all of you, down to the soul. His bites were unrelenting, like he was starving for you this whole time. You couldn’t tell if there was blood. Shit, you couldn’t tell if there was anything even left, but you didn’t care. And he didn’t care. You were his. He suddenly pulled his head away and stared down into you. All of a sudden, you felt known. His fingers went faster on your clit until you couldn’t take it anymore.

• “1. Right fucking now. Let me see my perfect girl come for me.” He raised his voice. He watched you transcend. Jolts of lightning were rushing through your body. You felt all of your limbs twitch and then fall out, lifeless, like your soul really was gone. Chris took it. He took all of you and he was leaving nothing. He continued to pound his fingers into you until you had nothing left. You screamed, you cried, you cursed. You couldn’t stop. Wave after wave, it hit you until you were shaking uncontrollably. You tried to close your legs, to stop the overstimulation, but Chris held them open. He wasn’t leaving until there was nothing left of you. He felt too good and he was too good. You started to sob. You couldn’t hold it back. Tears streamed down as you held out for one last orgasm. “Chris please, Chris PLEASE,” you pleaded, tears coming out. ���I- fuck-“ you felt another bolt of tingles shoot down your leg. “I’m almost done. Please… please, last time,” you could barely get your words out.

• It turned Chan on so badly. Seeing how gone you were for him. Seeing how much of yourself you had given to him. His baby. His girl. His immortal soul. Crying to him out of desperation and immeasurable pleasure. He was satisfied. And so with that, he bent down and kissed your forehead, then your tears. “Yes, my love, last time.” He pressed down hard onto your lower abdomen, just enough to give more pressure when he struck his fingers into you at just the right angle. It was absolute perfection, and pure bliss washed over you. One, two, three, four…. five pumps and you’re over.

• He leaned his head back and smiled ear to ear. You had started to convulse uncontrollably, squeezing hard around his fingers. ‘What a view’ he thought, eyes growing larger at the sight of your perfect body giving every last bit to him. You were exhausted. You were worn down. You weren’t even sure you were still in the world. But that was okay to Chan, he knew he now had you tied to his soul forever. It didn’t matter where you thought you were, because now, he would always be with you.

• Coming down from your high, you had tears still coming out of your eyes from the overwhelming emotion of it all. Your mouth was dry, heaving heavily to try and catch your breath. Your mind was trying to collect itself, slowly opening one eye at a time.

• Chan pulled his fingers out slowly, so as to make sure he didn’t hurt you. Once you came to, he gently grabbed behind you and sat you up. He laid your head forward onto his chest so that you could continue to collect yourself, wipe your tears, and get your breathing back to normal. He pulled your head close to his heart. You could hear it beating slow and steady. He then pulled you back ever so slightly and cupped your face. When he saw you with tears still in your eyes, he wiped them away with his thumbs.

• “Oh my sweet baby,” he whispered and brought his forehead to yours. You could see a tear starting to form in his eye. Then another. Then another. Chris was crying.

• “My sweet, sweet girl,” he repeated, whispering and trying to soothe you. He held onto your face even tighter. “You are so perfect for me, you know that? You did so perfect.”

• You nodded your head lightly, tiny tears still forming in your inner eye from looking at your tear-stained boyfriend. “I’m so in love with you, Channie,” you whispered, now cupping his face too. You planted a kiss on his nose. He grinned at your from underneath his eyelashes.

• “I’m so in love with you too.”

• “So, I’m yours now huh?” You laughed, wiping away your own tears.

• “You’re mine,” Chris said, leaning forward now and smiling into the side of your neck. He laid you back down onto your back as gently as he’s picked you up. “And I’m yours,” he said, now towering over top of you.

• He moved his body to rest between your legs. He planted gentle, soft kisses along your entire body. Any place he bit, bruised, or marked was now being pasted over by the whisper of his calm kiss. Starting from your neck, all the way down until he was face to face with the area he had just used to control you. He planted one last, gentle, sweet, loving kiss and raised back up.

• “You’re mine, and I’m yours,” he said, moving his body on top of you, trapping you in a cage of his limbs. He kissed your lips gently, so as not to hurt any bruises he may have given you. To him, you were the most delicate thing in the world. And you were his. He wanted to be fully yours too. He wanted to be etched into your soul, never to be removed. The thought of living this life eternally tied to you made his heart swell. It made his dick swell too. ‘Oh shit’ he thought. He had gotten so caught up in the moment that he wouldn’t dare ask you to do anything for him. But you felt the twitch. You knew better. You were exhausted, and he knew that. But in that moment, you didn’t care. You wanted to complete the perfect night.”

• “Baby?” You looked up at him.

• “Yes love?” He looked at you with all of the love in the world. He would bend over backwards just to hear you speak his name. Whatever question you had, the answer was undoubtedly, unequivocally yes.

• “I gave my all to you. It’s only fair that you give your all to me. I need you to show me how much you love me. Let’s commemorate the night.”

• He sat and stared at you for a long moment. ‘Let’s commemorate the night.’ You were right, he would give everything to you too. And then you would be one. Forever. His girl forever. Her man forever. He felt his soul latch on. You’re his. Venus in Scorpio.

Link: Venus in Scorpio: Part 2 - "The Night He Took You"

[misseviehyde]

STUDENT BODY

Your girlfriend Natasha was really worried about what was going to happen to your relationship once you started to attend different universities. She'd heard that long distance relationships could be really challenging and difficult.

Sure - it was always possible to communicate online and see each other that way, but without physical intimacy even the healthiest relationships would falter. But Natasha was always full of clever ideas.

"Listen babe. I've had an idea. My family have been guarding a magic scrying mirror for generations. I can use it to astrally project my spirit into another person. It's frowned upon to possess another person, but if it's just so we can talk and touch and stuff, I don't see the harm. Make sure you choose someone who is a real asshole though, that way I'll feel less bad about possessing them.

***

A month later you headed to University and began looking for someone suitable for Natasha to possess. It didn't take you long to find your target. Chanel Grey was the obnoxious, entitled sorority president of the most exclusive sorority on campus and perfect for your needs.

It didn't hurt that you had a huge crush on the busty bitch and the thought of your girlfriend inside that smoking hot body was kind of appealing. Chanel was a total asshole as well, so your girlfriend needn't feel bad about possessing her for a while.

You waited until Chanel was out shopping on her own one day and followed her to the mall. She usually had her team of funkies with her, but today she was flying solo and this was your best chance.

Ringing Natasha you waited patiently as she prepared the mirror in her bedroom. "Okay babe, I'll see you in a moment or two I guess."

You hung up and watched Chanel as she browsed through an expensive rack of designer clothes in one of her favourite stores. Suddenly she put a hand to her head as if she were dizzy. Then with a grunt her eyes rolled up into her head and she swayed on her feet slightly.

Moments later she shivered and her eyes came back into focus... only they seemed different somehow.

Chanel looked around, then spotting you walked confidently over. "Heya babe. What a body you found for me. I wasn't expecting you to pick anyone this hot."

It had worked. It had actually worked. Natasha was now inside Chanel!

She giggled and admired herself in a mirror. "Wow - this bitch is super stacked. She must have boobs three times the size of mine. And how fit is this body? Guess she must work out."

Natasha stretched, clearly enjoying how it felt to be inside Chanel. She then did a cursory check of her body, checking her pockets and her handbag.

"And I'm guessing she's rich too. I would never be able to afford a store like this. I'm guessing this is her Daddy's credit card. I mean I could try accessing her memories to check, but that can be dangerous. It can cause memories to get entwined."

You nodded not really understanding what she was saying but agreeing nonetheless.

"Only problem you've made for us is that someone is bound to notice us talking if we aren't careful. Chanel probably wouldn't be seen dead with someone like you. I wish you'd picked someone a little bit more low key even if they did have smaller boobs."

Natasha grabbed your hand and dragged you into the store. She pulled you into one of the dressing rooms and began fumbling at your belt.

"I know I said no sex, but this body is making me super horny. I don't think Chanel is a virgin, especially if those XXX condoms she is carrying in her handbag are anything to go by."

Giggling Natasha pulled out your cock and she smirked when she saw it was already rock hard. It looked so naughty in Chanel's lightly tanned hands - another woman's hands.

"Wow, guess you like Chanel's body too. Don't try to pretend this isn't what you wanted when you picked her as your target. Guess you now get to be sucked off by little Miss Popular."

With a giggle Natasha slid her pink glossy lips round your dick and began to suck. It felt good... really good and looking down you couldn't believe you were getting a blowjob from the most popular girl at uni. Turning to look at the dressing room mirror, you couldn't believe how hot it looked to see Chanel Grey's pretty head bobbing up and down on your cock. She was so fucking hot and now she was your slut.

Suddenly Natasha hesitated and her eyes went a little wide for a second. A moment later she attacked your dick with a fresh wave of enthusiasm, only this time it felt even better! Natasha was doing something with her tongue you had never felt before and her lips seemed tighter than ever. She was also making eye contact now and little groaning sounds and together it was all too much.

You began to cum and groaning you ejaculated into Natasha's mouth. It felt really good and it was a big heavy load. "Mmmhppphhh," gurgled Natasha happily.

To your surprise, she swallowed all of your load. Normally Natasha hated the taste of cum and would spit it out, but now she was inside Chanel, she seemed to enjoy it. Delicately wiping her pretty lips, she smiled and let go of your cock.

"Mmmh, sorry if I zoned out for a second there baby," she grinned. "I accidentally accessed Chanel's memories on blowjobs. Damn but she knows her stuff and she's sucked some good dick. Bigger than yours I guess."

You felt a sudden irrational jealousy. It wasn't like Natasha had actually sucked someone else's dick, but her having those memories seemed wrong somehow.

"I wish we had time for you to fuck me properly, but we'll get busted if we stay in here any longer. Come on."

Sorting out her hair and makeup Natasha indicated you should wait a moment and she slipped out first.

You waited a few minutes, then slipped out too. Looking around for Natasha you cursed as you saw her with a group of hot looking girls. She'd bumped into Chanel's friends! She made eye contact with you for a second then shrugged. Desperate not to blow her cover she decided to just go with it and helpless you watched her walk away with them - just like the real Chanel would.

****

Hours passed when your phone began to buzz. You weren't expecting a phone call from an unknown number, but you answered and it was Chanel's voice on the other end.

"Sorry about that babe. I couldn't get away from those bitches. I had to access more of my... I mean Chanel's memories just to convince them I was her."

Natasha began to explain how she had spent the rest of the morning with the girls doing hot girl shit. Hair, makeup, nails, coffee, more shopping.

Natasha usually hated all that kind of stuff, so you were surprised to hear genuine enthusiasm in her voice.

"I was pissed off that you chose this body for me at first. But the longer I spend as Chanel, the more I'm starting to enjoy being beautiful and popular. It's a unique experience. I understand how this body possession could get quite addictive. It's said that if you astrally project for too long your soul can bond with the wrong body and you get stuck forever. Imagine that. Imagine if I was Chanel permanently."

Her voice was joking, but also had a strange undertone to it.

"Of course I'm only doing this for a bit at a time so should be safe. I'm gonna hop back to my own body in a second. First though I've been horny all morning and haven't got off yet. Chanel has quite the selection of sex toys and I thought you'd like to listen. Right now I'm lying on her bed playing with myself."

You felt your cock stiffen as Natasha began to describe what she was doing.

"Mmmmh I'm touching Chanel's big bitchy tits and rubbing her tight pink pussy. Her soft hair is all around me and I feel like such a hot slut. Her pussy and clit are more sensitive than mine, you'd love this tight pussy. I have a finger inside myself. It feels so fucking good. I can't believe how wet I am already. Ooooh fuck yes."

Natasha began to moan and pant, you imagined her arching her back and gasping like a slut as she played with herself. You wished you were there, you were so jealous.

"Yesssss, yessss, I fucking love this body. I'm gonna cum so good in a bit. Mmmmh think I'll try this big thick dildo to help me get there. I want you to imagine it sliding inside my tight cunt, stretching me out baby. Chanel's tight pussy gripping every inch as I begin to pump it in and out. Ooooh fucccckkk."

Wet sounds of pleasure and pants and moans of lust came down the phone and you began to pump your own cock faster. This was so fucking hot.

"Ooooooh fuck, it's never felt THIS good before. Mmmmmh my new body was built for sex. Ooooh shit I can take it deeper than ever before, I feel like such a hot slut. My pussy is gonna explode! Ahhhh ohhhhh fuckkkk."

A screaming gasping squealing squirt of pleasure blasted down the phone as Natasha began to cum and you creamed your own belly with more of your own cum. The thought of her enjoying Chanel's body was just too erotic. That had been so hot.

"Mmmh, think I might play with myself a bit more before leaving her body. She won't properly remember everything she did when I was in control, just the gist. It's her brains own mental defense helping to keep my possession secret. She'll think she did all of this. So long as I don't do anything too out of character - I can have this hot little body whenever I like."

And with that she hung up...

***

For the next week you looked forward to your girlfriends daily possessions of Chanel. As Natasha predicted, the popular girl didn't seem to notice anything amiss and she certainly didn't show any indication she recognised you at uni.

It was strange to see that pretty face look at you blankly. The same face that hours before had been sucking you off or kissing you. To your shame you began to fantasize more and more about Chanel's beautiful features and soft sexy voice than Natasha's body.

But there was frustration too. Mostly the possessions seemed to involve a quick blowjob or handjob, then Natasha would go off with Chanel's friends. There was never anytime to have proper sex. Natasha even refused your offers to eat her out or finger her. You had never actually gotten to see Chanel's pussy.

Her popularity and prestige made it hard for you to spend any time whilst she was Chanel and you began to regret choosing such an exclusive target.

Natasha was acted weird too. She seemed to have accessed more of Chanel's memories for some reason and even when in her own body was acting more aloof and haughty. She'd started working out, stopped wearing her glasses and she sounded like she was starting to treat everyone like a real bitch.

She also seemed to be enjoying hanging out with Chanel's friends and living the life of a popular bitch more than she should. Her stories began to focus more and more on how much she had enjoyed hanging out with her girls and bullying the losers on campus, than the chance to be with you.

You were shocked the first time she described bullying someone. Shocked at how full of glee and enthusiasm she was.

"Some dumb little bitch dared to get in my way in the store. Can you believe it? She walked right out in front of me and when she saw who I was tried to apologise. I pushed the little loser into a clothes rail and knocked her over. She won't dare complain to the Dean, she knows I'd destroy her life. I left her crying in the shop - it was SO funny."

The possessions were supposed to bring you both closer together, not push you further apart, but now you were really starting to worry. Natasha had even insisted you set up a monthly payment to Chanel's bank account so she could buy even more clothes and things - but she never wore them for you.

The first real betrayal came when you found out that Natasha had been possessing Chanel on some days and not even telling you. She accidentally let slip a story about having dinner with her girls and you realised she hadn't told you she was available that day.

"Oh yeah? So? I sometimes slip back into Chanel when you're not around or I just feel like some me time. Her body fits me like a glove these days, I can hop in with no resistance anymore and I enjoy living her pampered life for a bit. What's your problem with that loser?"

You were shocked to hear the venom in her voice.

"Oh did I call you a loser? Sorry babe - that's what Chanel thinks about you. I've been accessing more of her memories and it's hard to fight off her impression of you as a nerdy, worthless, loser. I mean - of course I don't think that about you. Anyway gotta go."

She cut you off abruptly and that was the end of that.

***

The next betrayal happened soon after.

Natasha had stopped giving you blowjobs when she possessed Chanel, saying she was too busy or didn't feel like it. If you were lucky, you'd get a disinterested handjob from her and even that was becoming rarer.

It was like Natasha no longer cared about possessing Chanel to spend time with you, but simply so she could BE Chanel. It was also clear she had pretty much accessed all of Chanel's memories now and it had affected her.

Natasha's old speech patterns were gone. Whether she was inside Chanel or not she now spoke like a bitchy valley girl. Now when she called you 'babe' it was with a hint of mockery and her pretty lips always had a cruel bitchy sneer and her eyes a glint of malice. She held herself with a haughty arrogance and her body language had become like that of a spoiled ballet dancer.

"Just look at me. I'm so fucking PERFECT," purred Natasha as she admired herself in her stolen body. "Sorry 'babe' no time to give that tiny dick of yours a blowie. I have to meet the girls for some shopping. I have a new set of lingerie I'm desperate to try. See you later loooooser."

Despite Natasha's increasing distance, the dirty phonecalls continued and it had become the only source of your sex life. You'd listen to Chanel/Natasha moaning down the phone-line and telling you about fucking herself whilst touching yourself.

Recently though Natasha had told you that you weren't allowed to cum unless she said so. She also would cut off the phone unexpectedly, or sometimes not even ring at all leaving you blue-balled and desperate.

Then out of the blue she contacted you to tell you she had an idea how you could spend more time together.

"I've been telling all my hot friends about my cute sissy male friend... in other words you! If you go along with it and play the part, then I'm sure we can hang out more. All you gotta do is come over and act like a girly gay boy and the sorority will accept you. Maybe you'll even finally get to fuck me."

Natasha took you shopping and made you buy a load of new outfits. They were much tighter and more feminine than you were used to. Skin tight jeans, a crop top that showed off your body. You looked completely different. "There. Now you look more like a twink. We'll get your hair dyed blonde and styled, then get you into some of my panties and no one will believe you're straight."

You couldn't believe you were going along with it, but told yourself it would be worth it to spend more time with your hot girlfriend in her sexy new body.

She led you back to the sorority house and the girls swarmed you. You remembered what Natasha had told you, so you acted as camp as you possibly could. Strangely it came quite naturally, like you'd been putting on a masculine front for years and this was actually who you truly were.

To your surprise you began to have fun - gossiping, giggling, hanging out with the girls. You didn't even feel horny anymore.

Eventually Natasha showed you up to Chanel's amazing bedroom. It was quite a palace - as befitted the head of a sorority.

Lying on expensive silk sheets, she made you strip and try on her panties. You were a bit uncomfortable when she suddenly took some photos of you, but she promised they were just for fun and she'd delete them later.

Soon Natasha had images of you dressed in her bra, panties - wearing her makeup. It was like playing dress up it was fun.

You had hoped that she would now lock the door and offer to sleep with you at last - but to your disapointment she told you that she was tired and that the girls would get suspicious if you didn't come out soon.

Putting on your new outfit, you left the house feeling dejected - and yet strangely satisfied. It was like something was awaking inside you.

You wondered what tonight would bring...

***

After your dress up session, you hadn't been expecting more contact from Natasha, so it was a surprise when your phone rang that evening.

She sounded horny, there was a slutty catch in her voice and an excitement you couldn't quite place.

"Mmmmmh, heya 'babe'. So I'm lying here in some new expensive lingerie and I also picked up a new toy at the Mall. Wanna listen to me get off?"

Without waiting for your permission you heard the rustle of clothing and Natasha's breath catching. "Ohhhh wow, it's like nine inchs long or something. This really is a magnificent 'toy'."

You heard Natasha moan and soon there were sucking, slurping and popping sounds coming down the phone. It was unusual for her to simulate doing a blowjob, you imagined her lying on her back with a dildo in her mouth. She was doing a great job, it almost sounded like a real dick she was sucking.

Then you heard a grunt of pleasure. A male grunt. Did she... was she ACTUALLY sucking another guys cock? You angrily asked her causing her to giggle.

"Of course not babe, you must be hearing things. Mmmmhhh I'm here all on my own and I'm soooo fucking horny right now. Ohhh shit he's, mmmmh I mean I'm putting it inside me and it feels so good."

You heard the sounds of heavy breathing, then a soft wet slapping sound that grew harder and faster till it was soon the hot sound of hard male flesh slapping against soft female buttocks.

"Ooooh fuck YESSSS. You fuck me soooo good, I mean... my dildo fucks me so good. Ahhhhh ohhhh fuck, this feels amazing."

You were sure you could hear grunting and laughing as Natasha's moans of pleasure grew and the sounds of hot heavy fucking filled your ears.

It sounded like she was bent over on all fours now getting railed hard. Her breathing was heavy, you could hear the bed squeaking and shaking.

"Mmmmmh imagine if there really was a guy here fucking me. A big stong Alpha Jock with rippling muscles and a big dick?"

The slapping increased and Natasha let out a gutteral moan of pleasure.

"Making me cum in ways you never could. Ooohhhh fuck, what would you do about it then you fucking loser? You'd probably just jerk off to the thought anyway. You're so pathetic. Isn't he such a fucking cuck baby?"

Male laughter filled the line and the phone slipped out of your numb hands as the screams of ecstasy pumped out of your phone and you jerked off to the sound of your girlfriend getting pumped.

***

"Of course I didn't fuck a guy last night," laughed Natasha as you confronted her later. "It's all in your mind, you're just losing it. You pay me to pretend to be your girlfriend right so that's what I do. It's all make-believe."

You gawped at her in shocked amazement.

"Don't you remember loser? You wanted to pay me regular amounts to roleplay as your girlfriend and pretend she'd possessed me. I've got the monthly payments to prove it."

You shook your head in disbelief. No - this wasn't right. She WAS your girlfriend.

Chanel/Natasha laughed. "Oh come on. I knew you were mentally unstable, but seriously? You actually believe I'm your long distance girlfriend possessing this body? I mean - magic isn't possible loser. Fucking hell, I was worried you were losing your mind, but this is the final straw. Our little arrangement is over. I'm not pretending to be Natasha anymore and don't try to cause any trouble. I have photos of you dressed like a sissy loser I could release at any time, not to mention proof you've been paying me to pretend to be your girlfriend. It's over 'babe'."

Laughing Chanel walked away shaking her head.

***

Picking up the phone you desperately rang Natasha's cellphone. You were so confused. Was Natasha really possessing Chanel or had you invented the whole thing in your head.

No one answered so you called Natasaha's sister. She sounded upset on the phone.

That's when you found out that Natasha had been in a coma for nearly two weeks. Apparantly her family had come home one day to find her slumped over a table, totally unresponsive. It was like she wasn't there anymore - zero brain activity.

"We tried contacting you, but you didn't answer any of our calls or get back to us. What the hell is going on?"

You hung up - stunned.

Running over to the sorority house you banged on the door and demanded to be led to Chanel. You found her in her bedroom dressed in sexy lingerie and looking particularly bratty.

You accused her of abandoning her body, of becoming trapped inside Chanel. You begged her to leave Chanel and go back to her old body before it was too late. How long before her family decided to switch off the incubator and let her old body die. You begged and pleaded.

Chanel just looked at you coldly.

"Listen here you fucking loser. There are two possibilities you are describing. In one, I'm actually your stupid long-distance girlfriend who has become addicted to being a hot popular girl, absorbed all of her memories and replaced her. In this scenario I'm a body thief who loves what I have become and doesn't give a shit about you or anyone else.

In the second scenario, you're a crazy repressed sissy who has gone off the deep end at University due to the shock of his girlfriend falling into a coma. Full of unresolved guilt, you've created an elaborate fantasy pretending that I'm actually her - when in fact I'm Chanel Grey, popular girl and sorority president and that's who I have always been.

What I wanna know is - how in either of these scenarios you think it ends well for you? I know which scenario the police and everyone else will believe. I have photographic evidence that you're a pervert who wishes he was a girl. I have payments into my bank account for role-playing your girlfriend, and I can detail all the times I sucked your dick for money.

You have nothing. No evidence, no proof that any of this is true. You just sound like a fucking crack-pot.

Now why don't you get the fuck out of here before I call my new boyfriend over and get him to beat the shit out of you?"

What choice did you have? You turned and ran.

***

Chanel Grey watched the pathetic sissy loser she had just bullied turn and run with a thrill of sexual pleasure. She enjoyed being mean to people and indulging her cruel whims. Toying with this loser had been really fun.

Walking up to the mirror she examined her perfect reflection.

Who was she?

She was Chanel Grey. She was rich, spoiled and popular. She had a boyfriend with a big dick that was coming over to fuck her.

Nothing else mattered really.

THE END

[giorno-plays-piano]

No Apologies

Pairing: orc!Bucky Barnes x reader x orc!Steve Rogers

Warnings: noncon, kidnapping, forced marriage, breeding, magic tattoo, double penetration, my usual orc filth, bad dirty talk.

Words: 2.6k

Summary: Strange, you thought, nervously biting your already hurting lips as you watched them giving you a simple massage, their callous thumbs gently drawing circles on your skin. You'd never thought they would prostrate themselves before a human woman they abducted and married against her will.

P.S. Ok, it was not me who wrote it, it was a horny spirit possessing my body yesterday 👀

__________

"Fucking finally!" A huge dark-haired orc twice bigger than any man exclamed, inadvertently making you jump as you stared at him and his friend.

These two barbarians were the ones who captured you and brought you to the orcs' caves where other human women abducted recently were held - before they were forcefully married to those who kidnapped them, that is, just like you were a couple of hours before.

"Did you mark her with a tattoo?"

The orc behind you smirked, proudly gesturing to your naked crotch with a faintly glowing heart - a magic emblem of sorts, an orc's claim to demonstrate you were a monster whore, a wife of an orc. Or of the two of them, like in your case.

"You're scaring her," the other male said gently, his hand on his friend's shoulder as he eyed you up, humming with satisfaction when you tried to stop your tears, humiliated and afraid, completely naked in front of him. "Thank you for preparing her, brother. We'll take it from here."

The orc behind your back let out a sound close to a bark - he was probably laughing - before finally taking his hands off you and marching back to the main cave where the girls were held before they were given to their respective husbands. A couple of hours before you were presented to your personal orc bastards, you were scrubbed clean, marked with a crotch tattoo, and fed a few sickeningly sweet fruits for your first mating night, as orcs called it. Although, technically, tattoo was binding you to your orcs, the ceremony was considered official once they both filled you with their seed, your kidnappers informed you kindly. It was in your best interest, they said, since if your husbands wouldn't fill your baby room, other orcs could make their claim and take you for themselves. All you had to do was to spread your pretty legs and get a good fuck, they smirked, making your nauseous as you clenched your fists, your arms bound behind your back from the moment you were captured.

Well, you couldn't imagine sleeping with these two brutes with their cocks the size of your arm and staying alive.

"It's gonna be alright," the fair-haired orc smiled at you, gesturing to their bed - a pretty fancy bed for crude creatures like them - and stepping closer to you as if he meant no offense, and you wed him willingly. "We won't hurt you."

"Sure," you whispered as you watched the dark-haired orc licking his tusks as he stared directly at your naked chest. It was cruel of them to pretend to be kind, but they were orcs. Cruel was what they were. "You gonna tear me apart, and I will die."

"What? No, no!" The orc protested immediately as you took a step back, shivering, your arms aching from the rope. "We will prepare you properly before doing anything. It won't hurt, I swear!"

Yes, sure. As if they cared about your well-being, dragging you here like a sac, not listening to you wailing while you plead for your life until your throat started to hurt.

The other male narrowed his eyes at you, visibly irritated, before advancing at you and holding you by the arm. You flinched, your eyes on the ground not to provoke him further. You'd probably die if he decided to punch you. "You humans think anyone different from you is a monster, but, unlike you, we never marry a woman to abuse her. You'll be fine, stop trembling like a mouse."

The hot touch of his rough, work-weary hand only made you shake harder. They were two scary, scary creatures, and you could do nothing to protect yourself, naked and bound, alone in the caves full of orcs who treated you like a child's toy. Nothing good was gonna happen to you here. It was bad enough to be kidnapped, but kidnapped by monsters...

You didn't even feel it when tears welled up in the corners of your eyes. Again.

"Please don't hurt me," you mumbled, afraid to raise your eyes to your captors, your knees trembling.

The orcs looked at each other silently, and the blonde one shook his head, sending his friend a sad smile. The other one softened his grasp on your arm then, gently guiding you to the bed with his other hand caressing your back. "We won't, little girl. I promise, it won't hurt at all."

He waited until you landed on the bed with an anxious look on your face and gestured to the several little bottles on a nightstand you haven't seen before, the other orc opening one of them and pouring some sort of oil on his hand. "Look, all of this is to make you feel better. We'll oil you well before doing anything, and magic will help. It won't hurt even a second. It's your mating night, it's for your and our pleasure."

He nodded to his friend who eagerly spread the thick herbal substance between his huge palms, and the man landed on his knee, taking your feet and massaging the oil into the skin. For a second you shivered, expecting something weird to happen, but you felt nothing except warmth slowly spreading beneath orc's fingers. It was... alright. He wasn't beating you into submission, at least.

"See? We'll put it all over your body, and you'll feel fantastic," the fair-haired male sent you a reassuring smile, pouring the oil directly on your skin, massaging it into your feet and going up as you stared at him, dumbfounded. He was really giving you a massage, an orc who kidnapped you and forced you to marry him just a couple of hours before. "Bucky, help me, please."

You stared at them, unsure, when they both put themselves of their knees in front of you, each taking your foot in their hands and slowly rubbing in the oil. It was still scary to let those huge men, almost complete strangers, touch you, but at least they weren't actively trying to rape or punch you. Strange, you thought, nervously biting your already hurting lips as you watched them giving you a simple massage, their callous thumbs gently drawing circles on your skin. You'd never thought they would prostrate themselves before a human woman they abducted and married against her will. Why were they doing it? Why bother about what you felt? They clearly didn't care for your consent before, so why?

The more oil they used, the less cold you felt, you came to realize as orcs rubbed your unbound hands and shoulders with care, their breathing deep, calm as if they weren't aroused by your naked body. You could almost believe them if you didn't see their cocks bulging beneath the fabric of their pants. Instantly panicking, you raised your eyes to the ceiling to avoid looking there, and they softly rubbed your wrists where it hurt the most from the ropes.

No, they said they wouldn't abuse you. Surely, there was no reason to lie to you? They could have already taken what they wanted, there was no need to coax you into mating with them. It would still feel good for them even if they tore you apart. Instead, they kept spreading this strange magical essence, making sure you were all covered in it, their hands travelling to your shoulders and stomach as they kept rubbing your skin glistening from oil.

It almost felt nice, especially Bucky's arms on your belly. All of a sudden the dark-haired orc you were so scared of turned out to be really affectionate with you, his hands massaging your tummy tenderly but not going lower as he stood on his knees in between your thighs, his friend sitting on the bed behind your back, his fingers softly rubbing below your shoulder blades. It felt good. Serene. The orcs seemed almost disarming now. Was it the magic of the oil? It must have been. But weren't you supposed to feel hot by now? You thought the oil definitely contained some form of an aphrodisiac, considering they were going to bed you, anyway. But you just felt calm and nice, and it didn't make you want to jump on their cocks.

"I thought you'd put something arousing in there," you admitted as Bucky put his hands on your hips, and the other orc, Steve, chuckled. "So that I'd do it with you."

"We don't need any sex potions to arouse you. This oil is to make you relax. Doesn't it feel nice now?" he whispered into your ear gently, his hands cupping your breasts. "You'll be soft and warm, that's all you need to feel pleasure. Now please spread your thighs for Bucky, he has to put this oil inside you, and you won't feel pain at all when we bed you."

Letting your body relax and lean on Steve's chest for support, you slowly spread your legs for Bucky, and he generously poured magic oil onto his palm before covering your crotch with it, his thick fingers rubbing your lower lips and your clit as you exhaled loudly, turning your eyes to the ceiling. It was better now. Maybe you hadn't wed them willingly, but they treated you far better than you expected. Now you believed they weren't going to tear you apart, and you let out a sigh of relief, tears finally falling down your cheeks before Bucky gently wiped them away, his fingers caressing your face as you stared at his soft, warm expression.

Your breasts were already slick with oil, too, but Steve was still massaging them, pressing his thumbs in your nipples, rubbing them in between his thick fingers so that they became puffy and started to itch. Soon it felt really good when he pinched and tugged them a little, leaving nice little kisses behind your ear.

When Bucky slipped his fingers inside your already leaking pussy, you were kissing Steve then who stuck his longue, thick tongue down your throat. It took just a little fingering till you cummed nicely, Bucky's hand slick with your juices as you moaned, your lower belly pleasantly hot. You cummed two more times once your orcs started eating your holes out, their lovely tongues reaching every right place as you orgasmed with your legs spread wide, your knees trembling. Yes, it felt really nice now when Bucky's tongue pressed that spongy spot inside you, and you cummed on his face.

When you let out a moan again, Bucky left a loving kiss on your crotch tattoo gleaming softly in the dark. "That's a good girl. See, told you it would feel nice."

You caressed his thick, coarse dark hair absent-mindedly, "It's because you didn't put your horse cocks in me. They're too huge."

You heard Steve snickering as he hugged you from behind, his pulsing member rubbing your lower back. "Horse cocks, baby? That's a very nice thing to say."

Bucky smiled at that, his fingers on your aching clit, "Don't worry, the oil is working. Now we can breed your cunt, and you'll feel real good, kitten. I bet you'd ride me first thing tomorrow morning."

"Doubtful," you murmured before Steve turned your face to him and made you open your mouth, his tongue licking yours as his cockhead teased the tight ring of your muscles, slowly penetrating your ass.

Bucky was getting as much impatient, his monstrous cock sliding with ease in your pussy while you let out a sigh: it felt so good, just as they said it would. They were warm and strong and gentle, and even their cocks felt right once they started moving in one rhythm, stretching your holes. Your pussy had been tiny for Bucky's member thick as your arm, but now when his cockhead kissed your cervix, you just cummed a little, your pussy spasming and clenching around a nice, thick cock. Having Steve fuck your ass was even more bizarre idea, and yet it didn't hurt either. On the contrary, when his cock was rubbing against Bucky's, separated just by the back wall of your vagina, you orgasmed again with your eyes rolling inside your skull.

Fuck, that was it. You needed to mate. You wanted your holes full of orcs' seed to consummate your marriage and have them fucking you whenever you wanted. Wouldn't it be nice? It'd be so lovely if you could just stroke their cocks whenever you felt like fucking, and they'd sandwiched you between their bodies like now. You imagined walking up to Bucky and just getting your panties down, showing off your aching pussy to have him hammer his cock in you immediately. Or perhaps complaining to Steve that your empty cunt hurt, and you needed his thick, fat cum to feel better. Surely, it would be lovely to have them constantly use their cocks to please you.

You were cumming your brains out. You couldn't even count how many times you orgasmed already, the orcs changing angles and poses to have you on cloud 9. They were talking to you - Steve said something about the restriction to cum in your mouth unless you got knocked up, but Bucky assured him you were getting pregnant real soon - but you couldn't say much with your brain switched off. Now you could only think with your pussy. Sure, why not get pregnant with little orclings? Your orc husbands said they'd keep fucking you, anyway. They'd be so proud of you with your tattoo getting bigger, showing you were knocked up with orcs' seed, a sweet little slut with monster babies in your belly. Your orc husbands would fuck you as much as you wanted them if that happened, they promised to you as your pussy started spasming again, the tip of Bucky's cock kissing your cervix.

"I think it's time," Steve licked his lips, slowly taking his cock our of your ass while you moaned in protest. "Shhhh, baby. We have something special for you."

The other orc smirked, pulling out his member, too, his tip rubbing your drenched lower lips until Steve's cock joined him. You opened your eyes right away.

"It can't be," you said, your voice hoarse as you stared Steve in the face. "You're joking."

"No, baby, you're ready to take us both," he murmured, squeezing your perky nipples as his cockhead penetrated your cunt, Bucky's member entering your poor leaking hole at the same time, stretching it enourmously. "We have to end the mating ceremony like that, fucking you in one hole. Look how good you're taking us."

You stared with horror at your bulging belly, their cocks stretching you so much it looked like you were already pregnant. Shit, why did it feel so good to have them in your cunt together? These too monstrous, barbaric cocks pounding your sweet human pussy, soiling it with their dirty cum, forcing you to bear them babies... Could you ask them to do it more? To have their cocks in you every day? Bucky said something about you riding him tomorrow, right? You could do that. You could milk his horse cock till he emptied his balls in you. And you could suck Steve off real good, regardless of the taboo. You were definitely gonna get knocked up today, why waiting when you could give him a great blowjob with your tight throat?

Shit, two monster cocks abusing your cervix felt so fucking good.

Yeah, you were gonna make babies with them. You were gonna let your orcs have you where they wanted you if you got to command them to fuck you whenever you wanted to.

"A nice creampie for you, baby, for being so good to us," Bucky murmured into your lips, kissing you as your belly grew bigger with his and Steve's seed filling your baby room. "Look, your tattoo is already glowing. Congratulations on becoming an orc mama, you sweet slut."

____________

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[medievalandfantasymelee]

THE HOT MEDIEVAL & FANTASY MEN MELEE

QUALIFYING ROUND: 85th Tilt

Thraxus Boorman, Willow (2022) VS. Tyrion "The Imp" Lannister, Game of Thrones (2011-2019)

Propaganda

Thraxus Boorman, Willow (2022) Portrayed by: Amar Chadha-Patel

“A lovable rogue and warrior, Boorman is sure to make an impression. He's not only a pretty face, he's also funny, brave, and just a little bit sad as any remorse-wracked thief with doe eyes ought to be!”

Tyrion "The Imp" Lannister, Game of Thrones (2011-2019) Portrayed by: Peter Dinklage

“He's a little man. But he casts a very large shadow of horny upon me to this day. George R.R. Martin himself says that he's "a very attractive man" in literally every interview in which actor Peter Dinklage is mentioned. I have always agreed. He's sad and wet and sometimes angry but also forlorn a lot in the series which is always a plus. Also he respects sex workers (99% of the time. Like unless you know, they betray him). The legendary Imp deserves a spot on this list on the merit of his spirit alone as a "drunken lust-filled beast" who kind of has a heart of gold.”

Additional Propaganda Under the Cut

Additional Propaganda

For Thraxus Boorman:

For Tyrion Lannister:

“Clever, shrewd, possessed of a good heart, a handsome face and a voice with such delicious tone that one might listen to him for hours and not tire of it.”

“yes the show fucked up his character in the end BUT idc peter dinklage is still really hot and has such a great voice too”