#triple prison | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

smileysuh · 1 year ago

Text

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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ckret2 · 6 months ago

Text

Chapter 59 of human Bill Cipher possibly not being the Mystery Shack's prisoner because he got executed two chapters ago:

Everything you haven't wondered about how Bill survived his execution.

7:27 a.m.

Mabel didn't know why, but figuring out when to ask Mrs. Grendinator to pull over had felt as stressful as trying to throw a ping pong ball into a passing car's open fuel door to land in the little fuel pipe. All she had to do was ask to pull over after they'd passed everything but the last truck stop, but before it was too late for Mrs. Grendinator to make the turn into the Triple Digit parking lot. That was a large window. It wasn't easy to miss. Somehow Mabel still dreaded that she'd speak up too late and Mrs. Grendinator would say she'd have to wait for the next rest stop—by which point Bill would have splatted like a bug against the weirdness barrier while everyone else passed safely through.

But she'd managed to blurt out "I forgot to use the bathroom at home. Can we pull over?"; they'd stopped at the Triple Digit Truck Stop; and Mabel made it inside before her friends could catch her.

She locked the unisex restroom door, set her backpack on the ground, opened it up, and sighed with relief when she saw Bill sitting on her sweater. She carefully pulled him out, set him on the floor, and pointed the height-altering flashlight at him.

For a moment after returning to his true size, he remained seated on the floor, legs bent, elbows on his knees, head in his hands. Worriedly, Mabel asked, "You okay?"

"Think I learned what motion sickness is," Bill groaned. "Just—gimme a sec."

"Aww, I'm sorry." Mabel surreptitiously checked in her backpack to make sure Bill hadn't been sick on her sweater. (It was a cool one. It had kissing parrots.)

After a few deep breaths, Bill lifted his head enough to look at Mabel. The first thing he said was, "'Cool big brother-slash-sister,' huh?" He gave her a queasy, but cheeky, grin.

"Shut uuup you weren't supposed to hear that!" She'd just about died with embarrassment when Candy had repeated that where she knew Bill could hear.

"I'm flattered." Bill uncurled himself from his nauseous half-fetal position; and then, gripping onto the sink for support, got back to his feet. "Being smaller again was nice, but I'm never traveling like that again."

"You're such a whiner."

"Yeah, yeah. I have a lot to whine about. I'm dead and about to be executed. Talk about... lose your cake and... not-eat it, too."

Mabel laughed. Bill mussed her hair, grinning, and said, "Hey, you've got no room to laugh, you're the one with the not-setting-houses-on-fire bit."

"Arrrgh, don't remind me!" She pushed Bill to the side so she could use the mirror to straighten out her hair again.

"You did pretty well, though! I'd say that was some of the best acting I've ever seen out of you."

"You too! They definitely bought it," Mabel said. "Even Grunkle Stan was getting worried."

"Especially back in the kitchen, wow! That was really convincing." He paused. "Really, really convincing."

Something heavy hung in the air. Mabel focused on her hair in the mirror.

Bill said, "That bit in the kitchen about me 'depending' on you." He exaggerated the air quotes around the word, distancing himself from the concept. "It wasn't on our list."

"Yeah. It just kinda... seemed right. Improv." Mabel waved unenthusiastic jazz hands.

"It bothers you."

Mabel winced. "I mean... I'm not actually mad at you. But. I want to help, but I don't know what to do for..." She gestured at Bill. "The whole being dead on an alien planet issue."

"Believe it or not, the hoodie helps," Bill said. "Listening helps." But he couldn't meet her gaze; he was fiddling with his friendship bracelet instead. He had to know how heavy even just listening to him could be.

"I'm glad, but... I just... wish you had more friends you could talk to."

Bill nodded morosely. "So do I." It wasn't like he'd chosen to only have one friend, was it? Prisoners didn't get to make those kinds of decisions.

Mabel asked, "Do you really think I think you're just a summer fix-it project?"

"I... pfff... come on, I watched you spend all last summer handing out makeovers and dating advice. You've already done my makeup, taken me clothes shopping, and tried to pump me for info on what kinds of freaks I'm into."

(Mabel quietly filed away the fact that Bill referred to "freaks" as his preferred romantic targets.)

"That's how your summer was going to end," Bill said. "You tame the monster, go home triumphant, and don't worry about it anymore. Like how you patched up Broken Heart's love life and left him to sort out the consequences."

"No!" Mabel huffed, "I mean—maybe a little at the beginning, but... you're really my friend now, I'd hate it if I never saw you again. I don't give friendship bracelets to just anybody!"

Bill kind of thought she did; but he wasn't about to argue. "Well, I've only given one person a bracelet, and I meant it." (Even more now than when he'd originally made it.) "You're never getting rid of me now, star girl. You're stuck with me forever!"

Coming out of Bill Cipher, the promise should have filled her with dread. A month ago it would have filled her with dread. But Mabel just found it comforting. "Good."

(And Ford hadn't felt any dread when he'd sworn "until the end of time," either.)

Bill took off his backpack and rummaged through it. "Now let me make sure I can keep that promise."

He took out a map of the mountains and forest around Gravity Falls and spread it out on the floor for them to kneel in front of. "You know about the spaceship buried under town? When its ring cut through the mountain, a few chunks of the ship dislodged and were buried in one of the mountains. No human has ever found them before, not even your great uncle. That's where I'll hide."

"Are the chunks big enough to hide in?"

"Sure! There's one that'd serve as a decent studio apartment. Well—the cheapest studio apartment in Manhattan, maybe. But, hey, I don't have much furniture."

On the map, he showed Mabel a route to reach the base of the cliff, tracing it with his finger. She couldn't afford to take a map with the route marked; if the adults discovered Bill's escape and confiscated Mabel's possessions, a marked map would lead them straight to him. She'd just have to do her best to memorize the route he described. "When and if the coast is clear, you can come find me there."

"How do I get up the cliff?"

"Don't worry about that. You make it that far, I'll take care of the rest."

And that was all they could afford to discuss. Mabel couldn't hide in here for long. As Bill refolded the map (and Mabel was awed to learn he was the kind of person who could refold maps correctly on the first try), and he packed the map and the height-altering flashlight in his backpack, they each tried separately to figure out how to get around to saying goodbye.

"I uh... I know you're sticking your neck out for me, kid." (Bill wasn't used to this, wasn't used to people who didn't help him due to fear or duty or lies, wasn't used to people who still wanted to help him after they knew what he was really like.) "So, thanks—"

Mabel flung her arms around him. Her voice thick, she said, "I think your manners are getting better."

"Shut up, I've always known how to say thanks." It was gratitude that was new.

"Be safe out there," Mabel said. "Don't die, or else. Remember to eat. And drink water! And do laundry sometimes."

"All right, all right. You'll find me in better health than you left me. All the sunshine and fresh air this body can take."

"I'll miss you."

Keep it together, Cipher. He swallowed hard. "Have you ever heard the song 'We'll Meet Again'?"

"Uh-uh?"

"Old war song. Look it up once you're in Portland, when you aren't busy having synthesizers pumped in your ears."

"Is it about... how we'll meet again?"

"Yes, smartypants. Look it up anyway," Bill said. "I'll miss you too."

Mabel washed her face, left the restroom, and shut the door behind her; and Bill waited in the dark while everyone left.

####

7:45 a.m.

A woman with two children opened the unisex restroom door, and gasped in shock when she saw a human silhouette lurking in the dark, one eye shining.

"Hey, thanks, lady! Couldn't get the door for some reason." He breezed past her. "Careful, it sticks from the inside."

He grabbed an empty backpack for sale, and loaded it up with supplies, food, and drinks. (The good stuff, not the weak cider he got in the Mystery Shack. He was making margaritas tonight.) He headed up to the cash register... veered to a currently-unmanned register, stole a handful of loose change out of a tip jar, and timed his exit so he walked out just as a man walked in and kindly held the door for him.

####

7:55 a.m.

It was a fair walk from Triple Digit back to the cliffs around Gravity Falls. When Bill was a safe distance into the woods, he unzipped his first backpack, retrieved his flattened top hat, and popped it out; and then continued on, behatted and using his umbrella like a cane.

Even with no sleep, even just a couple of days after the worst hiking trip in history, even tired and sore from an hour of frenzied dancing, even carrying two full backpacks with one strap slung over each shoulder, even with the sky gloomy and overcast—this was the best he'd felt since Weirdmageddon.

His steps were sure, his body was unchained, and the future had opened up for him again.

####

8:00 a.m.

Mabel kept glancing out the window, back in the direction of Gravity Falls, waiting and waiting to see the light of some kind of killer laser cut through the sky.

Maybe the Quantum Destabilizer's beam just wasn't visible from this far. Maybe they'd decided to wait to execute Bill. Maybe they hadn't wasted their shot because they'd already discovered Bill and Mabel's ruse. Maybe the "enchantment" Bill had written hadn't done its job.

But if they had discovered Bill was missing, they would've called Mabel immediately, trying to find out what she'd done and where he'd gone.

Her phone sat hard and heavy and silent in her pocket.

The butterflies in her stomach didn't stop fluttering until long after they reached Portland.

####

10:30 a.m.

Plus or minus a few trees, the rendezvous point at the base of the cliff was just how Bill had remembered last seeing it millennia ago. The Trilazzx Betan proximity sensor that had been embedded in the cliff face since the ship crash was still there and still sensing, even after millions of years and a layer of stone had closed around it. He could see it behind the face of the cliff; and it could see him.

He took out the multi-tool pocket knife Dipper had "donated" to Bill's supplies, flipped out the blade, and carved his face in a tree far enough from the rendezvous point to avoid notice by anyone who found this spot, but near enough it could see anyone who showed up. He made it as accurate as he could—hat, bow, limbs, eyelashes. That would unfortunately make it easier for humans to identify the face if anyone happened to walk by, but his ability to connect to his other eyes was still weak, he needed as much of a boost as he could get. He licked the bark, leaving his saliva to connect the eye on the tree to him.

And then he returned to the rendezvous point at the base of the cliff, and, beneath the watchful eye of the proximity sensor, began digging in the dirt with his hands.

Beneath the soil, fortunately not buried too deep, was a stone shaped like a small tombstone with several symbols carved into its surface that superficially resembled common runes. Bill brushed the dirt off of his leggings and rubbed it out of the carved lines in the stone. It was lucky that today was overcast; it would make this thing a lot easier to control.

Bill took out the flashlight, removed the height-altering crystal, turned it on, and aimed the beam at the topmost rune.

The runes began glowing an eerie green.

The ground shuddered; and then a patch of ground five feet in diameter lifted up into the air, carrying Bill with it, tearing the grass at the edge of the circle, propelled by a long-forgotten enchanted stone platform concealed in the clump of dirt.

He rose to the gouge that the spaceship had carved into the mountain; and then he moved his flashlight's beam to another rune. The platform smoothly shifted to moving sideways, gliding beneath the ancient overhang. When he turned off the flashlight, the stone stopped glowing and gently settled to the ground. Bill stepped off, fished a spare shirt out of his backpack, and pulled it over the rune-covered stone so it couldn't take off if the sun came out. There was a reason this buried stone was the only platform of its kind left in the area outside of the deep mountain caverns: leave one outside on a sunny day where the light can hit its runes, and next thing you know it's zoomed out over the Pacific and is quickly rising toward space.

He surveyed the area. Every once in a while humans climbed up here just for the challenge of it, delightful little explorers they were; but he doubted anyone had been up here in decades. He stood in front of what was, to all appearances, a completely nondescript patch of stony ground; and he said, in heavily accented but intelligible Trilazzx Betan, "Let me in, you hunk of junk. Activate emergency crash protocols."

A fragment of ship deep beneath the ground stirred awake, registered the command, analyzed itself and concluded from the fact that it wasn't in space and was separated from 99% of the rest of itself that it had indeed crashed, and activated emergency crash protocols. In acknowledgment of the dire situation, it deactivated its usual authorized personnel list—there was no sense in waiting for the captain to approve new orders if the captain might be dead—accepted the command given by the unknown being above it, and opened its hatch.

Millions of years of solid stone groaned and buckled in protest at being moved; but Trilazzx Betan engineering was strong enough for the framework of a portal capable of ripping a hole between dimensions without being ripped apart itself. The stone yielded first. A hatch swung up, revealing a tilted chamber descending into the cliff.

Bill strolled confidently down the walkway. "Cancel distress signal. Disable life support's air filtering." The fragment of a ship beeped a warning, and Bill responded, "I'm aware of this planet's high oxygen content. You worry about your health, I'll worry about mine. Disable air filtering." The ship beeped a confirmation. "Reconnect to all external proximity sensors in range and display on screens one, two, and three." This broken part of the ship had once handled communications. It had a whole wall of screens. He wondered whether he could jury rig this thing to pick up human satellite TV. Nah, probably not worth the effort.

He slung off his backpacks and started unpacking.

####

12:04 p.m.

It was time.

Dipper sat on the floor and put his head in his hands. He felt sick.

He was dead. In just a few seconds Ford would discover that Bill was gone—Dipper was sure he was gone, they hadn't heard a peep from the room, Mabel must've snuck him out or left him some escape route—and then Ford would know that someone had warned Bill and Mabel, and then Dipper was dead—

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah." Dipper waved Ford off. "Just... didn't get much sleep. Little dizzy." Ford would never trust him again. Stan would be furious. They'd both be furious.

"You can go downstairs if you..."

"No no, I'm fine, I..." Dipper took a deep breath and lifted his head. "I'll face it." Better to get it over with now than to hide downstairs and wait for it.

Stan nodded. "Good man." He wouldn't be so proud of Dipper in a moment.

Ford nodded, stood, opened the door—and Dipper buried his face in his hands again.

####

12:06 p.m.

Ford could see Bill up in the loft, hood up and shoulders hunched, back to the room. Ford could shoot Bill in the back without him ever waking up.

He climbed into the loft. Bill lay curled up in a ball, a small as Ford had ever seen him.

But it only took a moment for Ford's eyes to adjust to the dark; and even in the dim light through the stained glass window, he could tell:

The shape in front of him wasn't human. Just lumpy clothes.

Ford whipped around, heart pounding, clutching the Quantum Destabilizer's carrying case against his chest, searching for the real Bill lurking somewhere in the shadows. No sign of him. Ford had already looked on the floor level. Was he gone? How?

He was too dumbfounded to be outraged. He walked up to the dummy to pull it apart—

And saw the paper, folded in quarters, floating in the air above it. Four symbols in a cipher were written atop the paper. Ford recognized them: it was the alien alphabet of an interdimensional pidgin used as a written lingua franca throughout the Nightmare Realm and its bordering regions; it was so widespread that Ford had learned the alphabet before he ever left Earth.

The four letters read, "F O R D".

Ford plucked the paper out of the air and unfolded it.

Stanford–

I'll cut to the chase. I need your help. I don't want to die.

I'm banking on the hope that, in spite of everything you've said and done, part of you also doesn't want me to die.

You have a choice. You can walk out there, tell them I escaped, rally an angry mob, and comb everything under the weirdness barrier for me. This town's not that big and I'll need to eat eventually. We both know I can't hide forever.

Or you can tell them you finished the job. No one looks for me. No one knows but you and me.

I don't have rewards or deals to offer. You already know what I bring to the table. If that hasn't persuaded you to side with me by now, it never will. I'm not bargaining. I'm begging.

I'm asking you, as my friend, to help me survive.

Please.

· –·-– -–

Of course.

How dare he.

Had Bill planned this all along? Was this why he'd insisted he wanted to be Ford's friend? Was this why he'd saved his life? Maybe the entire rescue had been staged—the rescue, the performance of fear over a harmless phenomenon, the mental breakdown, all of it. For all Ford knew, maybe the accursed Axolotl was in on the scheme! How clairvoyant was Bill? Had he seen this moment coming?

But if he'd seen this moment coming, wouldn't it have been easier to just let Ford, his executioner-to-be, die? Ford and Dipper both, so Dipper wouldn't figure out how to synthesize NowUSeeitNowUDontium? If he'd saved them in spite of that, didn't that make it a sincere gesture?

But implication was clear: I've been a friend to you, now be one to me. A life for a life. There was nothing sincere in that. It was pure self interest.

(For just a couple of days, Ford really had thought it was sincere.)

But if the only reason Bill had saved Ford was to save himself—then why had Bill endangered his own life in the process?

With every thought Ford's paranoia pendulumed.

He should get Stan. Call the cops, confess who they'd been harboring for the past month, tell them everything, get a manhunt going before Bill could make it any further away. Even if he couldn't leave the weirdness barrier, there were probably hundreds of hidden hidey-holes Bill could dig himself into that humans had never seen—unexplored hallways in Crash Site Omega, uncharted caverns behind Trembley Falls where Bill didn't even need light to see. They could drag him back into the light, tie him up, aim the Quantum Destabilizer straight at him...

But. In spite of himself, he could still see Mabel's drawing hopefully reassigning Bill the role of a superhero. He could still see the crumpled drawing in his pocket—"I BELIEVE IN YOU. YOU CAN CHANGE!" He could still see Dipper tentatively asking whether they might need Bill someday. He could still see Bill playing teacher in the living room. And for a moment, for just a moment, Bill had been so good. He could be so good.

Why couldn't you have been this person?

Why can't you be this person?

What if he could be better? What if he could be decent? What if he could be a friend?

Ford didn't believe Bill was any better today than he had been the day he died. But—at some point, something had slowly turned over in Ford's mind. He believed that Bill could change. Not would change, not is changing, but could. And if Ford started a manhunt, Bill would never be a threat again—but he'd also never be better.

There was a point where the doubt and hope built up to a critical mass—when they became enough, just enough, to stay the trigger finger. Because once Ford fired on Bill, that was it. All chances were gone forever. It was over. If Bill was alive they could always try again to kill him later; but if Bill was dead, they could never try again to better him.

And for the first time in thirty years, Ford wanted Bill to be better more than he wanted Bill to be dead.

Ford looked at the dummy. Looked at the note.

And then he lay the note on the dummy, knelt by the edge of the loft, opened his case, and removed the Quantum Destabilizer.

####

12:09 p.m.

Ten minutes ago, Bill had been in the process of emptying out his backpacks and finding nooks and cubbies amongst the alien communication workstations where he could tuck his supplies, when he'd glanced out the open hatch and noticed the beforeimage of the shot lighting up the sky.

He'd come out of his shelter to watch the moment approach; but he hadn't quite believed it until it was in the present and actually happening. The blue-white beam of the Quantum Destabilizer—its one and only shot—screamed off into the sky.

"Well, what do you know," he murmured, standing at the edge of the cliff, hands on his hips, staring out in wonder over the town. "I really didn't think you'd do it."

Ford had saved his life.

Bill crossed his arms tight and tried to convince himself he didn't wonder why.

####

12:10 p.m.

Ford heard Dipper and Stan come into the bedroom and climb the ladder. He was seized by an urge to sweep away the ashes and the evidence of his trick before they could realize what he'd done.

"Grunkle Ford...?"

He forced himself to speak. "It's done."

"So... Bill is...?"

Ford suddenly realized: Dipper knew Bill wasn't in here. He must have warned Mabel, and Mabel had arranged for Bill to be alone in their room long enough to escape.

Which meant Dipper knew Bill was alive.

(Bill had written, "No one knows but you and me." Bill was covering for the kids.)

Ford turned to look him in the eyes. "Yes, he's dead."

Which meant Dipper knew what Ford had done—and knew Ford knew what he had done.

Neither one of them needed to say anything else to know what the other was thinking. They just shared a look—the two most miserable co-conspirators in Gravity Falls.

####

12:25 p.m.

Bill sat cross-legged at the edge of the cliff and watched until the afterimage of the Quantum Destabilizer's shot had faded from the sky; and then he went inside his shelter, mixed the world's lamest margarita in a coffee mug, took it outside, sat again, and toasted toward the town and the Mystery Shack.

Here's to survival.

He sat outside until the gash the Quantum Destabilizer had cut in the clouds closed and it began to rain.

####

1:10 p.m.

Stan had come and gone a few minutes ago, and already Ford had forgotten everything he'd said, if he'd even registered it in the first place.

His fingers had itched until he'd finally had a moment to steal down to his study, retrieve Journal 5, and bring it up to the guest room; and now for over half an hour he'd been feverishly writing down every single thing he could remember learning about Bill over the last two days. The drawing of his homeworld. His lecture on biangles and psychic powers. How polygons inherited their sides. (Their royalty sounded nigh on Habsburgian; had their political system ever changed?) What little details Bill had let slip about where Edward Bishop Bishop's book was wrong. (Had he told Mabel more about their relationship? He'd have to ask when she was home.) How Bill signed his letter: "· -·-- --", Morse code for "EYM," was it an acronym, was it a code, what did it mean, why did he write it in two colors? How Bill spelled Mabel's name in alien alphabets: Mabelle, Maybell, the varying extra letters. How Bill danced: how he struggled to cross his ankles, how he turned out his feet, how his spine and shoulders never bent, how the complex ways he tilted his legs and pelvis compensated for his stiff spine.

If Bill was sticking around a while longer, then these details still mattered.

He refused to forget a thing.

####

Sunday, 12:02 a.m.

As "We'll Meet Again" finished playing, Mabel turned off her phone, put it back on her nightstand, and wiped her eyes again. Big stupid dork couldn't even say this himself, he had to hide it behind a song.

Yes. They would meet again. Law of attraction. Believing it was the first step to making it come true.

####

10:20 a.m.

The fearful butterflies in Mabel's stomach had slowly returned during the drive home from Portland. No one had texted her—was that a good sign?—but she was afraid it just meant they'd decided to let her enjoy the rest of her trip before letting her know she was grounded forever for helping Bill escape. When they'd all greeted her at the door, looking so somber, and she was sure she was about to get the bad news, she'd just had to keep acting normal and hope she wasn't gonna get in more trouble for playing dumb.

The last thing she expected Stan to say was, "Weshotim."

"Say wha?"

"We got that—space gun of Ford's working. We shot him. He's... I'm sorry, sweetie."

Mabel stared at Stan. That was impossible—there was no way they'd found Bill. But—if Stan believed he was dead...

She dragged her gaze from his face to Dipper's. Dipper bit his lips, staring at his feet. He wouldn't meet her eyes—too afraid that even looking at her would give something away.

She looked from Dipper to Ford. "Grunkle Ford?" She tried not to hope. "Is it true?"

There was no way he'd believed the dummy was real. The moment she'd read Bill's so-called "enchantment," she'd known making it believable was never the point. Bill's only real plan had always been to get Ford on their side.

For a long moment, Ford said nothing. He dragged his eyes up to meet her stare, took a deep breath, and nodded. "He's dead."

Mabel's eyes widened. Two days ago, Ford had been the one arguing that killing Bill was their only choice. If he'd changed his mind...

If anyone said anything else, she didn't register it in her excitement. She backed out of the doorway, leaped off the porch, and ran around the shack, looking for her bike.

She had to see Bill immediately.

####

10:21 a.m.

Quietly, Dipper asked, "Did we do the right thing?"

Ford didn't know. His stomach had been twisting with guilt and doubt since yesterday. His conscience had kept him up half the night. "I hope so."

He feared they'd have second-guessed themselves no matter what.

####

2:30 p.m.

Bill was asleep. He'd been sleeping off and on for most of the past day. This was the first time since he'd died that he had somewhere safe to sleep—somewhere nobody could touch his vulnerable body, nobody could move him, drown him, kill him.

And this was the first time he hadn't been helpless and sightless.

In his sleep, he saw his own body, curled up on the tilted floor against a wall, on top of the sleeping bag and under the Pony Heist bedsheet, from an eye he'd drawn on the ceiling.

From another eye he'd drawn on the wall, he saw the ship's open hatch, the overhang above, a small sliver of the gray drizzly sky over Gravity Falls.

And from his eye on the tree, blurry and fading as the rain washed away his saliva, he saw a human-shaped mass of raucous colors exploring the pit in the ground left behind by his hovering platform.

A human? He sat up with a gasp and looked at the screen displaying the proximity sensors. Sure enough, the sensor at the base of the cliff was displaying a Mabel-shaped silhouette.

He grabbed his flashlight and climbed out of his shelter.

####

"Kid, what are you doing out out here?!"

Mabel looked up. Bill was some twenty feet above her and quickly descending on what looked like a chunk of flying dirt the same size as the pit in the ground she'd been inspecting. "Bill!" She leaned her bike against the cliff face. Finally—she'd been wandering around in the trees forever trying to figure out where Bill's rendezvous point was hidden.

"It's pouring rain," Bill scolded. "You could lose your immune system or—or slip in the mud or something."

"Wow, nice to see you too, mom." Mabel ran up as Bill landed his floating chunk of ground.

"Hey, I don't want anything happening to my favorite human!" He scooted over to make room for her on the platform. "Just couldn't wait for a sunny day to meet again, huh?"

"Psh, come on! Like you meant that literally." Near Bill, the rain had mysteriously stopped landing on Mabel. She looked up and saw the rain simply parting in the air over Bill's head.

He noticed her glance and said, "Did I ever teach you the spell to repel rain? Remind me to do that before you go." He pointed his flashlight's beam at a rune on a stone rising from the platform, and it lifted off again. "Nice sweater today." He poked one parrot-winged sleeve, its bright colors darkened by the soaking rain. "It probably looked better dry."

Mabel smacked away his hand. "Bill, guess what! Grunkle Ford decided to protect you!"

"I know, I saw the wasted shot from here." He steered the platform onto the cliff. He landed it next to a hatch that opened into a subterranean tunnel. "Of course, I always knew he would. Didn't I say we'd pull this off?"

Sure he'd known. That was why he'd lied about what the "enchanted" paper really was so Mabel wouldn't worry.

Mabel followed him down into the metal tunnel. "Do you know what this means? You can come back to the shack!"

Bill turned to stare at her in bewilderment. "Why would I want to do that?"

"Because... it's safe now? They're not gonna kill you?" Mabel squinted. "Why's it so dark in here?"

"Oh, right. You need this." Bill offered the flashlight.

Mabel turned it on. They were in a metal chamber, about half the size of the Mystery Shack's floor room and nowhere near as tall. One end of it had been torn off and dirt and stone served as the new wall. Most of the walls were dominated by heavy metal consoles, curved metal chairs, and screens, a few of which were on but flickered irritatingly. One chair still had a fossilized alien skeleton in it. Bill had put his top hat on it.

His supplies were piled haphazardly on consoles and the floor; all Mabel saw in his food pile was shelf-stable junk food and drinks. The air somehow felt more damp in here than it did outside with the rain. The chairs didn't have cushions, the floor didn't have carpet; everything was hard and cold and dark. She didn't even see a door for a bathroom in here. This was where Bill was staying?

"The Mystery Shack is safe for now," Bill said. "Just wait until Stanley decides to take another swing at me, or Dolores poisons my dinner again—or Ford changes his mind, dunks me in the bathtub, and doesn't let me back out."

"They wouldn't..." Mabel trailed off. She tried to imagine how mad Stan would be when he found out Bill was alive, and had to concede he might.

"Even if it was safe—why would I go back to that sorry makeshift prison?" Bill hopped up into one of the tilted alien chairs. There was a weird extended bit designed for alien anatomy that curved up at the end of the seat and forced Bill to straddle the chair rather than sit in it normally; it didn't look comfortable. "After almost a month and a half, I'm finally free!"

"Free inside a tiny bubble around the town," Mabel protested. "To live in a... weird little metal dirt room."

"Freely moving inside the entire barrier is a lot better than freely moving through half a shack! Surrounded by people who want me dead! I don't even get full privacy when I'm using the toilet—that's the bare minimum humans offer as basic respect! You don't know how many times I've been walked in on!"

"Do you even have a toilet here?"

Bill hesitated. "There's a—there are gas stations within walking distance."

"How are you gonna get into the restroom?"

"Fine, I'll dig a pit or something, all right? The point is, whatever I do, at least I can do it in freedom!"

He hadn't planned this through at all, Mabel realized. He'd only thought as far ahead as finding food and shelter that would last him the next couple of days. "But..." She gestured at the pathetic room around them. "The shack's got a proper roof and a shower and real food—wouldn't that be better than this?"

Bill scoffed "Only humans care about roofs and showers, and the idea of 'real' food is a social construct I reject!"

He'd be miserable here. Mabel couldn't let Bill do this to himself. "Then don't you wanna be in the shack with your only friend on Earth?" She gave him a pleading look. "Would you really rather spend the rest of summer in some dumb old busted alien ship?"

There was a flash of light reflected in the dark as Bill's eyes turned away from Mabel.

"Bill?"

He didn't respond. He trudged past her, halfway up the walkway out of the ship, and stopped there, his back to Mabel, hands on his hips, staring out into the rain. He sighed. "Kid, you're trying to give me Stockholm syndrome."

"I don't know what that means."

"It means I'll think about it," Bill said, voice flat. "Go back to the shack."

Before Mabel could move, Bill said, "Hold on. Let me teach you that umbrella spell first." He turned and descended back into the ship. "And when's the last time you ate? Human bodies act pathetic if they don't get glucose every three hours. Get some lunch, it's a long bike back to the shack." He gestured at his meager food supplies.

She rummaged through the foil bags and colorful boxes and grabbed some Chipackers and sour gummy dolphins.

Bill sat near her, grabbed a bag of jerky for himself, and said, "And tell me about that concert you abandoned me to my doom for."

####

4:00 p.m.

Bill escorted Mabel down off the cliff—and, at her request, let her borrow the flashlight and wiggle the floating platform back and forth a little as they descended. He took back the flashlight when she nearly crashed the platform and killed them both.

"Where'd this come from?" Mabel asked, poking the stone. "Did the aliens make this, too?"

"Nope! This is good old local Earth magic. Ever hear of Caterpillar Man?"

"Is that some kind of superhero?"

"Afraid not. Well—ever hear of Grendel?"

"Uh-uh."

They were nearly at the ground now. "I think I'll tell you next time."

As the platform lifted him back up, Bill watched Mabel wheel her bike through the trees, slowly heading toward the main road back into town.

For a midsummer day, it was chilly in the rain.

####

Monday, 1:03 a.m.

And it was even chillier in the post-midnight dark when he knocked on the Mystery Shack's door.

####

(Eager to hear what y'all think now that you've seen the full story of how Bill survived—last week once Dipper and Mabel's roles were revealed, I think most folks thought that fully explained how Bill faked his death. ;) Next week is probably a double length chapter, because there's no graceful way to break it in half and also it'd be nice to get this plot arc wrapped up before The Book of Bill comes out lmao.)

#bill cipher #human bill cipher #grunkle ford #stanford pines #gravity falls #gravity falls fic #gravity falls fanart #fanart #my art #my writing #bill goldilocks cipher

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