#confessionals must have been weird too
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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— 6:08PM
cw. dubcon, sacrilegious themes, manipulation, loss of virginity, creampie.
it is just another sunday morning of you going to church, secretly glancing the cute boy standing at the front row while the priest reads from the gospel. it’s been a couple months since you found out that you developed a tiny crush on him despite not knowing a single thing about him, only overhearing some of his conversations with his friends on accident. that was how you got to know his name as well. you decided today will be the day to confess your love to him. you don’t really expect anything out of it when you do, just wanting to be honest with your own feelings.
when the church starts to clear out, you hurry over to him before he could leave, softly tapping on his shoulder, “mark.”
he turns around to meet your eyes, you’ve never once stood so close to him, suddenly noticing all his beautiful facial features.
“hey,” mark is giving off an awkward energy, barely noticeable, considering you both have certainly not interacted before. he adds, “do we know each other..?”
“no,” you’re quick to respond, “no we don’t, but i have something to uh tell you.”
“i’m all ears.”
you gathered up your courage and told him that you have a thing for him, you didn’t get to say much as he cut you off halfway, “so you like me?” he says, voice sounding cocky for no reason.
“yes- no- wait, i mean yeah! i do but i don’t uhm want anything from this, i’m just telling you, you know? you can forget about it, it’s not really that important.. it’s not like i wanted us to be together or anything,” you feel so tense, like every hair on your skin is standing up straight, you laugh lightly after you realise you have been rambling a whole lot. this is your first time confessing to someone, you’re not quite sure how to do it but you’re sure that you probably messed this one up.
mark didn’t give you a reply of any sort as he pulls you by your wrist into the confessional. you’re stunned by his actions, wondering why he brought you in here. you’re even more stunned when he stepped in too, tugging the curtains closed.
“what are we doing in here?” you nervously question him, standing together in such a close proximity is making you lose your mind. you can feel the warmth of his body on your cold skin.
“baby,” the word rolling off his tongue so smoothly like he’s used to calling you that. he places both his hands on your waist gently, slotting his knee in between your legs. you’ve never had someone touch you before, but it felt nice, it felt good.
“mark,” you whimper when he lifts his knee up higher until it hits your core. from the moment you opened your mouth to initiate a conversation, he knew you weren’t the type to go for parties, to go get laid and come for church to accommodate your sins. you’re actually as innocent as you look, and mark loves girls like you.
“yeah?” his replies, voice so gentle while moving your hips for you to grind on his thigh.
“feels- weird..” you mutter, fingers gripping onto his arm for balance.
“weird? how?” he asks, honestly not caring about what your response would be. before you could give him an answer, he adds, “want me to stop?”
you hastily shake your head. mark’s smirking when he sees your mouth dropping open. the sounds that leaves your lips made mark extremely aroused as he dips his head in your neck, the smell of your perfume intoxicating him, making his mind go hazy.
as if mark never noticed you every single time he showed up for church, the prettiest girl in the room, wearing the skimpiest sundresses known to humankind. he keeps finding himself jerking off to the thought about you whenever the hem of your dress flies up a little too high, giving him a whole view of your cute panty. on some days it’s baby blue, on some days it’s light pink with polka dots on it. all so innocent.
god must be on his side, for making his dream a whole fucking reality. he didn’t even need to try and here you are, handing yourself to him on a silver platter.
mark stops his movements when he feels your wetness soaking through his jeans. you are pushed up against the uncomfortable wooden prickly wall in the confessional as mark pulls your dress up, mouth salivating at the sight of your panty, white with a little pink bow on it. holy shit, you’re just so pure, way too pure for someone so dirty and corrupted like him.
“mark wait—” you softly hold his hands when he was about to touch your private part, snapping him out of his thoughts for just a moment but he’s already thinking of ways to let you let him have it his way.
“you like me right?” he tugs a strand of hair behind your ear when you nod, “this is what people do when they like someone.”
“does that mean you like me too?” you ask, gazing up at him with the most innocent looking eyes ever
mark hums, ignoring your question, “you’re so pretty, so so pretty.” and when he feels your hand leaving his, he wastes no time at all, shoving his fingers through your folds. you’re so wet, pussy dripping with arousal. you have both palms over your mouth, trying to stop the weird noises that were coming out on their own.
“does this feel weird?” he wants you to talk regardless of your hands blocking your mouth. “answer me baby.”
you slowly retreat your hands, “n-no, feels good..” accidentally letting out a moan when mark curls his fingers in you. shit you sound so angelic, and he wants to hear more.
“want me to make you feel even better?” he suggests. being the easily trusting person you are, you nod again with no hesitation. he slips his fingers out of you, placing them on your lips, “open up baby.” and you did so obediently, tasting your liquid with your tongue when he pushes his fingers through your lips.
mark unbuttons his jeans quickly, pulling his cock out of his briefs, lazily pumping it with his tip on your clit. you gag when his fingertips hit the back of your throat, tears welling up in your eyes. he retrieves his wet fingers, grabbing the bottom of your thigh, pushing it up to your chest. he glances down at your dripping soft cunt as he lines his painfully hard cock at your entrance, unable to hold out any longer.
“mark im scared,” your voice is shaking, you don’t think something that big could ever fit inside of you. you’re afraid that you might break, but mark wants to break you.
“don’t be scared baby, i promise it’ll feel real good.” already pushing the tip in, the stretch is unbearable, but you wanted to do your best, you didn’t want to disappoint him, you wanted him to feel good.
“so tight- taking me in so well,” mark huffs as he sinks his length into you all the way to the base, “see, wasn’t so bad right?” he lifts his eyes to meet yours, tears threatening to fall out of your eyes. mark didn’t think it was possible for his dick to get any harder than it already was, but it did.
“fuck- try to stay quiet baby,” he immediately starts moving after rushing his words.
“ahh i-i can’t,” despite trying so hard, gasps and whines kept slipping through your lips.
mark leans in close as he hungrily plants his lips on yours, swallowing down your pretty moans while he’s sucking on your tongue, groaning whenever your walls tighten up around his cock. while one of his hands are on the back of your thighs, his other is found wrapped around your throat, squeezing tighter and tighter by the second. oxygen is getting cut out of your lungs and with the way mark is pounding into you, it’s impossible for you to get a word out, much less a sentence. you can feel your knees starting to give out. you place your hands on either sides of marks’ shoulder, hoping he’ll go slower on you.
when mark parts away from your lips to let you breathe, you cough a little, “mark, i’m feeling weird again..”
“just relax,” he says, picking up his pace, he’s so close to finishing too.
with just a few more thrusts, you moan his name out loud as your body trembled, unable to control the volume of your voice. mark grunts at the feeling of your walls convulsing around him, letting out strings of curses as he came inside of you, filling you up to the brim.
“at least there’s something for me to look forward to during church sundays now,” you hear him say, feeling on cloud nine, mistaking his lust for love. never realising that mark did not once called you by your name.
#vv writes#mark smut#mark lee smut#nct smut#nct 127 smut#nct dream smut#mark hard hours#mark lee hard hours#nct hard hours#nct 127 hard hours#nct dream hard hours
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Ask Compilation Because We Are TIRED.
@azzythestupid:
Last night i tried having a dream about radioapple via looking through all your radioapple asks on here
I had a dream about blitzø and striker somehow
Anonymous:
Been watching Taylor Tomlinson's Netflix comedy specials and she has this joke where she talks about how growing up religious made her weird in many ways, one of which was masturbating wrong for her entire adult life. She goes on to explain that because her youth group was told that masturbation itself isn't a sin, it's the lust in your heart when you're doing it, she decided she could masturbate as long as she kept her mind totally blank except for "road trip thoughts (almost there, making good time)." Anyway that's Vaggie to me hjhjhb
@azzythestupid:
Ay did you answer my ask abt the "au where hh characters are in the place of hb characters"? If you did can you gimmie a link 2 it
@blaackbiird:
alla that little red Riding Hood ask but it's Hoodwinked
@xxx-angiedust
"creepy old guy" from beetlejuice but someone for me it's literal
'gum disease' which alastor canonically has black gums from a lack of hygeine iirc
also i love beetlejuice too i would marry him or alastor fr
Anonymous asked:
Since when did the cannibal colony get tumblr?!?!
Anonymous asked:
Blood and cannibalism? Who started this??
-Alastors dick
Anonymous asked:
huskers-bar mom has got it going on~
Anonymous asked:
How Alastor hasn't given himself chronic wasting disease is a mystery beyond anyone's understanding. Either human or as a deer demon, he shows no signs of having gotten a torturous existence via prion.
xxx-angiedust asked:
if gay people don't exist, how are you this popular?
checkmate liberals
Anonymous asked:
Oh, they look good!
-Alastors dick
Anonymous asked:
I know where Eve went.
She was turned into a rubber duck!
Anonymous asked:
Oh! I've found it!
-Alastors dick
Anonymous asked:
B-b-bingus cursed alastor cat
Anonymous asked:
I feel devious, like I'm a little rat scurrying around when I leave a message in a blogs inbox anonymously and they only know me by some goofy ass name I thought up.
-Alastors dick
Anonymous asked:
I just got sent the something anonymously and now I must send it here.
Can you blow my whistle baby, whistle baby, let me know-
-Alastors dick
Anonymous asked:
I know you know who I am, I'm just hiding from the other people on this blog. It's like the confessionals, you see.
*thump* *bleat* *thump* is canon????
-Alastors dick
I usually hate swifties because of a expierence but ill make an exeption for you cursed mod
-😋
Anonymous asked:
Hii! How are you this hellish morning/day/evening/night ? :>
Love how you and huskers-bar have a ship name now😂
-🦋
Anonymous asked:
Just to piggyback off angeldust never forgiving Valentino and redemption/ forgiveness, I once had a pastor tell me that if I was unable to forgive someone who hurt me badly, then it was ok to just forgive myself for not forgiving my abuser. Forgiveness can come in many different forms and part of redemption is forgiving yourself
Anonymous asked:
wsg
im the person that did an ask on the charlie x al and on how i let my friend used my acc
lemme tell u smth
I WANNA FUCKING DIE THIS FURRY ASS SHIT KEEPS APPEARING ON MY FYP
AND I FEEL SO BAD FOR VAGGIE😭😭
love u btw
muah🥰🥰
xxx-angiedust asked:
"why does everyone suddenly wanna get cartoon characters pregnant?"
i've been writing mpreg since i was 11
xxx-angiedust asked:
i need alastor's tentacles inside me
i need to ripped apart by them like rire in boyfriend to death
@fujillamaparadise asked:
Alastor + Loki = ??????
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Illicit Affairs - Chapter Fourty-Seven
Masterlist
A/N: I know it’s been a while I’m so sorry!!! But even if you hate me after this chapter, can you wish me luck? I’m taking my third driver test tomorrow and I would really like to pass this time LMAOO
Warnings: general dose of angst | Word Count: 6,000
December 24th,
Aelin threw herself on the bed she was sharing with her cousin, finally wrapped her in her warm pajamas, and let out the longest breath known to mankind. Aedion was sitting the same way she did, staring at the wall.
“I had sex with Rowan,” she said, feeling like in a confessional. Except that instead of a priest, she confessed to her cousin. Some people could find it weird, but this thing felt too heavy to keep to herself, and she was sure something was also bothering him.
He didn’t even look at her. He only said, “I kissed Fenrys.” Her head shot to the side, her eyes the size of flying saucers. But he kept his gaze on the wall, then kept going, “And then I told him to never speak to me again.”
“Oh,” she breathed.
Was she in the place to ask any questions? He hadn’t for her, she would allow him the same courtesy.
She thought she understood. He’d been broken once. And even if she was sure Fenrys would never hurt him the way Lysandra had… She had never thought Lysandra capable of doing what she did either. In the end, they never knew who someone really was.
Fuck, Aelin was just figuring herself out.
“We’re fucked,” she said.
“Yep,” he nodded. “We are.”
“Maybe it’s our genes,” she said. “There must be something bad about those Ashryver genes, because there’s no way so many shitty things happen to us at random.”
He snorted. “So it’s either you die, you end up being a cunt like your mother or life screws you over and over again. Wyrd help us, the eyes aren’t worth all this shit.”
And she couldn’t help it, she laughed. Loudly. Because that was true, the pretty eyes weren’t worth all that pain.
----
March 7th,
“This one, maybe?” Helia pointed out toward the ugliest dog Aelin had ever seen. Truly, she felt mean to say it, but it was the truth. She was sure this dog was very nice, but it was old. She was sure that with a little brushing it’d be prettier, but one look at its age was enough for Aelin to shake her head and grab Helia’s hand to walk away. Aelin’s heart squeezed in her chest at the idea of leaving any dog behind… If she had more money, if she didn’t live in an apartment, she would adopt them all.
But she’d already struggled to have Aedion accept to adopt one little beast, she wouldn’t push her luck.
If there was one good side of being heartbroken, it was how lonely both cousins felt. Sure, they had each other to rely on, but there was just so much physical contact she could take with that brute. She’d always wanted a dog, but her mother had always refused to adopt one. In university it would have been impossible to have a dog on campus, and now… Well, now felt like a good moment to make a permanent decision.
It was either that or a tattoo, and Helia was a little too young to get tattooed with her, so adopting a dog it was. It was her weekend with the little girl, and she really had wanted her to choose with her. It felt like a decision to make with Helia. Aedion was trailing behind them, eying the animals warily. “I don’t get why you don’t want a cat, it’s more independent.”
She rolled her eyes, “That’s the point, Aed. I want cuddles, lots of cuddles.”
“Cuddles!” Helia screamed excitedly, clapping in her hands. “I love cuddles.”
“You do?” Aelin asked, surprised. “I never would have guessed that. You never hug me.”
Helia’s eyes widened. “No! Not true!” But for good measure, the girl threw her arms around Aelin’s leg, hugging her so strongly that Aelin couldn’t move anymore. Aedion caught up to their side, chuckling at the little girl. Though it squeezed something in Aelin’s chest as she saw how much Helia had grown up in more than a year. Fuck, it’s been than a year since she met the girl. More than a year since she…
No, she wouldn’t go down that train of thought. Not now.
“We have a few dogs waiting outside if you’d like,” an employee smiled at them. They’d chosen to go to a refuge which didn’t keep dogs or cats or other animals in cages. It was sort of a house, with two dogs sharing each room. Apparently, there were activities in the garden as well. “Yes!” Helia jumped away from Aelin’s legs.
“We’d love to,” Aelin confirmed.
“I’ll show you,” the woman said.
Aelin went to grab Helia’s hand, but the little girl already had her arms in the air, her eyes pleading as she silently asked Aelin to pick her up. She was tired, Aelin should have expected that. They’d been out for a while, having grabbed an ice-cream on the way there. “Mommy?”
Aelin’s heart nearly leaped out of her chest, but she smiled at Helia and turned around, lowering so Helia could jump on her back. Aelin wasn’t strong enough to hold her in another way. When she stood, there was something strange in Aedion’s eyes. Something like worry, and maybe some hints of pity. She’d told him about her infertility. He’d been there for her when she got her eggs frozen, even if she still had chosen Fenrys as a doctor. Aedion had ignored him, much to Fenrys’ dismay. But he’d been there for her, offering her his support. It meant a lot more than he knew.
She winked at him and smiled, reassuring him. Helia still called her mommy sometimes, even if Aelin thought it would stop now that they didn’t see each other as much as they used to.
Helia had her arms wrapped around her neck and she rested her head on her shoulder, as Aelin admired how pretty that house’s garden was. She loved her apartment, it started to somewhat feel like home, but she missed running in Rowan’s garden, playing hide-and-seek with Helia.
There were indeed three dogs playing with a man, the three of them with dark fur. But the dog that caught her eyes was the little golden pup, eyeing the three other dogs as if it wished to join in the fun, without ever daring. “What about this one?” Aelin asked to the woman.
“Oh! She’s a little lost. She’s relatively new here, but she seems to be afraid of the others. It makes her integration somewhat complicated.”
The eyes of that dog… Gods, they seemed so sad. “Can we pet her?”
The woman’s face lightened. “Of course! She would love that. Usually, when people see an unsociable dog, they don’t want to get anywhere near it.”
“Assholes,” Aedion grunted from her side, and the woman nodded though she made no comments.
Carefully and instructing Helia to control how loud her voice was, they approached the dog. She was sitting near a tree, and made no attempt to move before Aelin kneeled in front of her, Helia landing on her feet. Aelin held up her hand for the dog to sniff, and after it did just that, Aelin let out a surprised yelp as the dog licked her stand, stood and nuzzled her hand away so she could nearly jump onto her.
Aelin laughed as she sat, the dog licking her face as Aelin petted her.
“She loves you,” the woman laughed, kneeling near Helia to instruct her how to pet the dog.
She wasn’t too big, that was a good point. And she seemed very affectionate. Aelin couldn’t lie and say she hadn’t developed a soft spot for the dog the moment she heard her story. “I love her, too.”
Even Aedion kneeled on the other side, and he scratched the golden pup behind her ear. He nodded at Aelin, and her smile turned big. “What do you think, Lia? Do we like her?”
Helia’s big, doe-like green eyes were shining with joy. Aelin felt complete when she saw the girl so happy, especially when it was thanks to her help. She nodded, “I love her!” She repeated what Aelin had just said. “What’s her name?”
The woman from the refuge smiled sadly. “We have no idea, we found her lost in a forest. I’ve called her willow, but we decided to let her new owner choose.”
“Any ideas?” Aelin asked Helia. Willow was a pretty name, but if the girl had a specific name in mind…
Her toothless smile was to cute not to mirror it. “Can we name her Fleetfoot?”
Alright… That was something for sure but… Aedion ruffled the girl’s hair, “Fleetfoot it is.”
---
May 4th,
Aelin’s head was pounding, or maybe it was a fist on the door. But as she opened her eyes, she quickly realized that it was both. Her vision was blurry, and yet she still stood and walked to the door. Shit, the apartment was a mess. They had partied a little too hard last night. Fenrys was asleep on the first couch, with his head resting on Aedion’s stomach, who was also laid on the couch. She didn’t remember what happened last night, but the mark on Fenrys’s neck told her that she didn’t want to know.
Aelin herself had slept against Dorian’s shoulder, the two of them sharing the second couch. Dorian spent more and more time here lately, ever since he also quit med school and broke up with his girlfriend, Manon. She didn’t really know why, just that the woman wasn’t ready for commitment.
And while they’d been breaking their backs sleeping on couches, the two couples had slept in the bedrooms. Elide and Lorcan in Aelin’s, and Connall and Vaughan in Aedion’s.
She hadn’t known they’d be there last night; she’d come home ready to cry herself to sleep, but when she opened her door… Well, that had been a good way to change her mind. And now, for two years in a row, she hadn’t been sad for her birthday. That was quite an accomplishment. Though when she remembered where she’d been a year before… She shook her head, opening the door, only for her heart to nearly stop.
Her father was standing there, holding a bouquet of flowers in his hand. With a tentative smile, he said, “Happy late birthday, princess.”
“Dad,” she breathed, suddenly feeling self-conscious about the way she was dressed. The shirt was pretty long, but still, maybe she should have put pants on. “What are you doing here?”
He looked as embarrassed as she felt, and he eyed her apartment warily. That really was the worst time for a visit. “I wanted to visit yesterday, but Aedion told me not to,” he chuckled then. “I understand why, now.”
“What are you doing here?” She repeated, still a bit confused.
“It was your birthday. I-I wanted to be there, so maybe we could spend some time together. But if you don’t want to, it’s okay.”
“No,” she rushed to say. “I’d love to.” It was nice, she thought, to see him there. To know he thought about her.
He smiled, letting out a little relieved sighed. “Good, would you like to go walk somewhere?”
“Sure,” she smiled. “Just, let me get dressed. And can I bring my dog?” Fleetfoot loved to go out and walk with Aelin. The once very small, tiny dog she’d adopted is now huge, always stealing Aedion’s bed.
“You have a--,” he stopped himself. “Sure, Aelin. Take your time.”
She gave him a small, shy smile and let him in. He looked scared at the state of her apartment, and it somehow made her smile, reminding her of all the times he came back home to a very messy house when she was a teenager. His eyebrows shot up at Aedion and Fenrys, and Aelin said, “Don’t frown at the state of your doctors, they’re not working.”
He chuckled, “I can see that.”
---
Aelin was feeling emotional and held back her tears as she walked through the park where her father used to take her and Celaena when they were kids. He used to drive all the way there just so they could throw bread at the ducks. Aelin was watching Fleetfoot run while she sat on a bench, her father next to her.
“I didn’t know you were having a party,” he said. “I mean, you didn’t have to tell me.”
“I didn’t know, either,” she told him. “Aedion surprised me.”
“I am happy that you have him,” he said, laying a hand on her knee, then squeezing. “He treats you well.”
“He really told you to not come yesterday?”
“He said that you had plans, and that you might not be up for a visit from me on that day.”
She chewed on her bottom lip. “It’s always a hard day.”
“You don’t need to explain,” he smiled. “It’s the reason why I asked Aedion beforehand, I want to do things on your terms now.”
She nodded, fighting the tears even more. They weren’t bad tears; she was just feeling a lot. The meds she’d been prescribed didn’t help, either. They helped her get out of bed every morning, but they also made her feel more sensitive. “What did you do yesterday?”
There was a flash of silver in his brown eyes, and he said, “I flew to Terrasen. I wanted to be with Celaena a little. I have… I have been doing this quite a lot lately, if I must be honest.”
“Oh,” she breathed. Her sister hadn’t been alone yesterday, then. That was good. “Does it help you?”
He nodded, “Yeah. I keep telling her how sorry I am, honestly, I just sound like a broken record there, but… I will never say it enough.” He winced, then said, “I wanted to move her. To Doranelle, so she could be with the whole family. It wasn’t my decision to leave her there, but your mother she’s been…”
“Celaena will be in Doranelle?” Aelin breathed.
Something in his face shattered. “They need the authorization of both parents, and your mother is—”
“A bitch,” she snapped, her tempter rising. “She’s just a cruel bitch.”
He didn’t say anything else other than, “I’m sorry.”
She shrugged. She’d asked him once, when she’d picked up the phone in his many attempts to call her, how the divorce was going. He said that her mother made it hard, that she was trying to take everything from him. She hadn’t lost her job at the hospital, she had no idea how, but she wasn’t at the top of the hierarchy anymore. That’s all she knew, and all she wanted to know.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Anything,” he said.
She played with her fingers as she said, “I understand how you pulled away after Celaena died. I did, too. We all grieve differently, and I’m pasted that. But… But you knew how Evalin was cruel with me. And I believe you when you say that you love me, so why have you never done anything?”
He looked away, as if he was ashamed, before he turned his eyes back on her. “I have no excuses. I hate myself for it, and I don’t deserve forgiveness. But the only explanation I can give you, was that your mother… She wasn’t only cruel to you. The few times I brought it up, she threatened to leave and take you away. And I—I don’t know. It somehow shut me up every time. Again, Aelin, this is on me. I can’t give you excuses that’d be convincing enough.”
The tears escaped her eyes then, and she didn’t wipe them off. She knew that she wouldn’t have liked the answer in anyway. But… “Thank you for being honest. You weren’t the father of the year but deserved better than Evalin. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t,” he said, voice clouded with emotions. “Don’t apologize to me, Aelin.”
“Alright,” she let out a long breath, wiping away the tears. She had to stop crying, for fuck sake.
“It’s okay,” he squeezed her knee again. “Tell me about yesterday, who was there?”
When she told him, he frowned, “No Dr. Whitethorn?”
Her stomach dropped at the name but she shook her head.
“I thought he’d be there, since you’re invol—”
“We haven’t been involved for almost a year, dad. I thought you knew that.”
“Oh,” he breathed. She hadn’t told him, but she thought someone else had. “What happened?”
Her laugh was sad. “He left me, and I’m a child about it because I can’t fucking get over it.”
“When?”
Her side-eyed look was enough for him to understand that she meant the night at her parents’ house. “Aelin,” he breathed. “He had no other choice.”
She shook her head, “You don’t get it.”
“Not everyone is me, Aelin. Not everyone is your mother.”
“Dad—”
“No,” he grabbed her hand. “Look at me.” She did. “I made him run that night. I’m so sorry, but he wanted to stay. The next day he was the one to yell at me, he had a goddamn lawyer ready, Aelin. This is why I thought you were together, because he fought for you.”
“What?” she breathed.
He’d told her. He said that he would have come back after the stalker had been dealt with; but she hadn’t been sure if she believed him. But if he truly had fought for her… Why hadn’t he said it?
She shook her head. “It’s… It’s not only that. I love him too much.”
He frowned, “What is that supposed to mean? There’s no such thing as loving too much.”
She scoffed, calling Fleetfoot so she could have some comfort from the lovely dog. She hadn’t planning on having a heart-to-heart with her father today. Hell, her head was still pounding, her body still feeling like death. The dog laid her head on Aelin, allowing her to pet her.
“There is when you’re me. I solely focus on him, so much that I start neglecting myself. I believe that if he is here then I’ll be fine, that if he is here, I’m protected and nothing can hurt me. I forgot about how you both hurt me for a while when I was with him, until that night. For a while, I just sat in my fucking car, and I realized I had nothing to go back to, dad. I was in a fight with Aedion, I kept so many secrets from my friends that they barely felt like my friends, then one of them betrayed me… I had to go to the house of a man who barely tolerate me, Dad. I just… I can’t love healthily.”
“You’re right,” he said, voice slightly quivering. “You can’t love yourself healthily. Not the others. The love you tell me about, it’s the purest kind of love that exists. It’s the kind of love I wish I’d been able to show you, that I wish I was able to show anyone. The problem isn’t with how you love Rowan,” he said, as if saying his name felt strange on his tongue. It must be. “It’s with yourself, and I know it’s my fault, but stop punishing yourself.”
She shook her head, tears spilling once more. “It’s not as easy.”
“I’m proud of you for looking for a better, healthier love. But, are you happy, princess? I understand pulling away to heal, but are you truly healing if you’re stopping yourself from being with someone you love?”
“I’m messy,” she breathed.
“You’re lovely, and pure, and too good. Start treating yourself with more love, Aelin.”
She wiped her tears away. Maybe he was right. She tried her best. She went to school, she became closer to Fenrys and Dorian and Elide, she took care of Helia… Every day, she fought to get out of bed and make the best out of a good day. But maybe… If she’d let Rowan in again, it would be easier. Maybe she couldn’t forget that night he left, but she could forgive him.
“I’ll call him tonight,” she said, and her father smile.
---
“Aelin!” A high, loud voice squealed the moment she opened the door and faster that she had any right to be, Helia threw herself at Aelin. Surprise hit her as hard as the little girl did, what was she doing here? Aelin had been drunk out of her mind yesterday, but she was positive the little girl hadn’t been there.
Fleetfoot ran into the apartment, going to sniff a very well dressed Loren. He hadn’t been there either… What was going on?
“Buttercup!” Aelin smiled, kneeling at Helias height. “What are you doing here?”
“Happy birthday!” She placed a bit, wet kiss on her cheek, and Aelin felt her heart fill with warmth. Last she heard, the two kids were having a sleepover at Rowan’s last night, and she only understood why when Vaughan and Connall showed up in her living room.
There was as if hope took over the beating of her heart. If they had been at Rowan’s then he must have driven the kids there, right? She stood, grabbing Helia and holding her close. But as she walked in the living room, there was no trace of Rowan. She tried, she really tried to not show her disappointment show, but from the other side of the room, Fenrys’s eyes on her felt heavy.
Loren rushed to Aelin as well, hugging her legs. Gods, that boy was too cute to be true. She hadn’t seen him for a year, but he was always showing up in the video calls his fathers gave her. “Happy birthday, Aelin,” he squeezed his arms around her legs. “We came to play board games!”
Aelin chuckled, her eyes looking fondly at Aedion, who mouthed happy birthday. She grinned, and then her cousin’s gaze slipped behind her, and then she realized that her father was still there. She set Helia back on her feet, and the two kids ran toward Aelin’s bedroom.
Aelin turned around, looking at her father. He looked really uncomfortable, especially pinned under Lorcan’s gaze. She had no idea what that was about. She didn’t expect Lorcan Salvaterre to take her defense out of everyone. Her father was still holding the bouquet of pink and purple flowers he’d bought her, she’d asked him to as Fleetfoot was quite a handful to deal with.
She grabbed the flowers, walking into the kitchen to fill a pot with flowers, her father on her heels. “I really like them,” she said, filling in the silence between them. The apartment was small, and everyone could hear or see them. She supposed it was a surprise for them to see him there. Maybe Aedion hadn’t told them, or her father hadn’t really warned that he’d come today.
She didn’t fail to notice that the flowers were what used to be hers and Celaena’s favorite color. Her taste had changed… but she appreciated the gesture.
“You could stay, you know,” she said.
He shook his head, giving her a little embarrassed smile. “Enjoy an afternoon with your family, it’s okay.”
In a way, she was happy that he refused. It broke her heart, how he didn’t consider himself part of her family. But maybe she was part of his, and there was still work for him to be part of hers.
He waved at her, on his way to leave, but before he could, “Dad?”
He turned around, facing her with an expression of wonder on his face. She hesitated for a second, until she decided to fuck it all. She wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging her father for the first time in year. Tears burned her eyes as she said, “Thank you for today.”
“Anytime, princess,” he breathed, hugging her back. They let go of each other after a while, and she gave him a tentative smile.
“Do you think we could do that again someday?”
He smiled at her, “I would love to, Aelin.”
---
After showing the world how much of a sore loser she was, Aelin decided to cook something for everyone before they leave, going back home. Her cooking capacities had somewhat developed, at least enough that she had made Bolognese. And since nobody was spitting what was in their plate, she supposed she hadn’t done such a bad job.
Fenrys was in a vivid tale of how his patient’s husband started hitting on him right in front of his wife, and Aelin’s belly hurt at how much she laughed. Even in her laughter, Aelin couldn’t ignore the looks Fenrys threw toward Aedion, as if making sure he was making him jealous. Compared to how cozy they were that morning, it was almost as if the two of them couldn’t seat far enough for each other. Or more like Aedion couldn’t sit far enough from Fenrys, who made it his job to taunt her cousin.
She wouldn’t even ask what happened the night before, she’d been too busy dancing with Helia and Vaughan—whose hips could move very beautifully—to look at the two of them.
Aelin was sitting with Helia on her lap. She was five now. Older than the three years old she’d met, and yet the girl still wanted to snuggle with Aelin to eat. Maybe it was a little disgusting, but they shared a plate. Less washing to do later, and it wasn’t like Helia ate a lot. She took a big mouthful of pasta, and red sauce was all around her mouth as she chewed. Aelin chuckled, using a napkin to clean her up. Her dramatic self, Helia sighed and let her body fall against Aelin’s torso. “I missed Bolognese.” She could say Bolognese without any problem now, and Aelin wanted to congratulate her on it.
“What do you mean baby, you haven’t eaten that in a while?” She remembered Rowan cooking that once a week, mainly because it was one of Helia’s and Aelin’s favorite.
“No,” the girl shook her head grabbing the big glass of water with her tiny hands.
“How so?” Maybe Rowan got sick of it. Though she couldn’t imagine him deprive Helia from her favorite food just because he didn’t like it anymore. He was… selfless that way. He loved her that much.
Fuck, she missed him.
That convo with her dad really messed her up. She had the urge to grab her phone and call him now but… she wanted peace when she made that call.
“Remelle doesn’t like it, so Daddy doesn’t cook it anymore,” Helia sighed, shrugging a little.
Aelin’s stomach dropped as she heard what Helia said. And as if everyone heard as well, all side-conversation stopped. The silence was deafening, and the two kids were oblivious to it.
“Remelle?” Aelin asked, though her voice was a little too wobbly for her liking. She looked around, and no one dared to look at her, except Aedion who was as confused as her. The only one who dared to look at her was Fenrys, and his eyes… they looked sad.
“Daddy’s friend,” Helia answered, and there was something about her tone Aelin didn’t enjoy. Maybe… dislike? “She sleeps over all the time.”
She was going to be sick. She looked around, and none of the people who lived in Doranelle dared to make eye contact. They’d known. They’d known and they didn’t tell her.
Aelin’s heart was beating too fast, her vision turned blurry and she felt dizzy. And yet, she did her smile to lean in and kiss Helia’s cheek. “You can have all the Bolognese you want here, baby.”
Aelin didn’t last more than a minute before she stood, helping Helia to seat before she went into her room. It took energy to not slam her door. Instead she sat on her bed, staring into the void.
Remelle.
She remembered now.
Dr. Flores.
Blonde, beautiful. Age appropriate.
He moved on. He moved on with her.
She was truly going to be sick. Just as she thought about rushing to the bin under her desk, her door opened. She thought Aedion would be the one to join her, but she was wrong.
Fenrys was there.
“Get out,” she breathed.
“Aelin,” he said, tentatively, closing the door behind her.
“You knew,” she said, not loudly but with bite. “You didn’t tell me.”
“You were doing good, Lin,” he said, taking a step in her direction. “I didn’t know for sure, Rowan isn’t the type to confirm or answer our questions. And you were doing better…”
“How long.” She demanded.
“Aelin.”
“How fucking long, Fenrys?” She snapped.
“We noticed them getting closer around a month ago.”
Her heart missed a beat. A month. He’d kept that from her for a month. And in the meantime, he kept convincing her to take him back. She didn’t know what her feelings were now. If she was angry or sad.
“Call him now,” he urged her. “Call him now and he will ditch her.”
“You’re a dick.”
“Call him now, Aelin. He will, just call him and he will. I know that he will today, but I’m unsure on what he would do in the future. You need to wake up now if you still want him, and we both know you do.”
“Get the fuck out of here,” she snapped.
He frowned, his head cocking to the side. “I don’t get you, Aelin. Sometimes, I can’t understand.”
“I’m trying to deal with my emotions, Fenrys, and I can’t do this if you’re here,” she hissed.
“Dealing with your emotions, is that how you call this? You’re just compartmentalizing, entirely ignoring some parts of your problems.”
“Like what?” She shouted, too lost in these waves of distress to care.
“Like the fact that he’s waited for almost a year and you’ve ignored him, but the moment he moves on it seems like a problem,” he snapped back. “You need to choose. You want him or you don’t, because Aelin, if you keep waiting you might lose him.”
Breathing was hard, and it was as it an entire building crumbled onto her as she breathed, “He told me he couldn’t wait anymore. I told him I wouldn’t come back.” Her friend’s face turned sympathetic, and her voice broke as she breathed, “I didn’t believe him. I-I hoped.”
“Call him,” Fenrys said, holding out his phone. “Call him, and tell him.”
She looked at the phone for a second, wondering what would happen. Could she call him, really? Would she call him, ask him to ruin the little happiness he’s found, only so she can bring her mess back into his life?
Then, she shook her head. “I’d like you to leave.”
“Aelin,” he breathed.
She shook her head, “I don’t want to speak to you anymore.” He’d known. He should have told her, no matter how much he wanted to protect her. She was so, so tired of being protected. Of being weak.
He laughed, but the sound was sour. “You want to push me away from your life, too? When will it stop Aelin, when only Aedion’s left, huh?”
She looked away. She didn’t deserve his friendship, didn’t deserve his time. She wasn’t a good person. Wasn’t good for anyone. He shouldn’t have had to protect her.
“You think I don’t know why? You rely on Aedion because he’s as lonely as you. He won’t leave you, and you won’t leave him. You’re using each other as life buoys, and you push away anyone else. You can’t ignore the world outside.”
“Leave,” she said, voice firm. “I don’t want to see anyone,” she slipped under her blanket and didn’t come out of it for an entire weekend.
---
June 10th,
“I had fun, you know,” he said in her ear, helping her put her coat back on. She gave him a shy, timid smile.
“It was a nice evening,” she nodded, taking a deep breath as they stepped out of the restaurant. Even for a month of June, the air was quite cold. Hence, the coat. She usually disliked wearing one, it always ruined an outfit. She rather not get sick, though. So, she put on a goddamn coat.
“Can I walk you back to your car?” He asked.
He was cute. Pretty, even. She’d met him in class, and he’d been the first person to approach her. She’d been wary at first… The last time she befriended someone in class, it hadn’t ended well. For months he did his best to befriend her, and while she didn’t reject him, she wasn’t exactly warm. Then, before Yulemas, he’d asked her on a date. She refused. He did it again a few months later, and she gave him the same excuse. I’m not ready.
He was perfectly content to keep their friendship intact. Until a month ago. She called him, asking if he was still up for a date. She’d never heard Sam’s voice so joyful. He was funny, and a good man.
Now, three dates later, Aelin enjoyed his company. She didn’t love it, and she didn’t crave it so much that she felt as if she needed him. But maybe this was a more realistic kind of relationship for someone as messed up as Aelin.
The walk to her car hadn’t been long, and they stood there. “You look beautiful,” he praised her, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear.
“Thank you,” she smiled, waiting for a blush to spread in her cheeks but it didn’t happen.
He was standing close to her, and his gaze lowered on her lips. He wetted his own, taking a deep breath, and she knew what he would ask before he even opened his mouth.
“Can I kiss you?”
For someone who had had sex in a bathroom before the first date, and who had grinded on a guy during their first date, it was strangely chaste of her to never having kissed Sam before. Not a single time before or after their first two dates, but she knew she would break this circle today. After all, she had to move on.
She took a deep breath of her own and nodded, and the next second his wet lips were on hers. And she felt… nothing. It would come, she told herself. She rose on her toes, parting her lips for him.
He groaned, pushing her against her car. His hands stayed in appropriate places, on her waist, but she could feel things heat up.
This wasn’t…
She didn’t want to have sex with him. Didn’t want to kiss him. Not now. Was he kissing her? Having sex with her? If he didn’t… Didn’t she have to, as well? She had to move on as well, she had to prove to herself that—
She pushed Sam away, a little breathless. “I’m sorry.”
“Have I hurt you?” He asked, pulling back, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He really liked her and she… She didn’t. It wasn’t fair.
“I don’t think it’s going to—” She was cut off by her phone ring. Great. Amazing. She was trying to communicate, goddamn it. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” he said as she grabbed her phone from her handbag, frowning at the name showing up.
Fenrys.
They hadn’t been in contact for almost a month. Well, he did try to call. She was the one dodging his calls. Not every good behavior for the new Aelin, but she didn’t care. She was ashamed, and sad, and mad.
She didn’t want to speak to him now. She hung up, and turned her eyes back on Sam. “Sorry, just a friend.” She winced. “I was saying, you’re great and I—”
Her phone rang again, and Fenrys’ name showed up again. Alright, that wasn’t normal. Usually, he called once. If he really was in a mood, he sent her a selfie of his puppy face. But he never called twice in a row. Two calls in a row were reserved for bad news only; she’d heard enough of those to know.
The last time, she’d answered one of Fenrys’ call late at night, Rowan had cut his hand. This couldn’t be worse than that. She was sure of it. For all she knew, it wasn’t bad. Her bad days were over.
“You can answer,” Sam said, voice kind. “You look anxious.”
She winced again. “I’m sorry, I’ll cut this short, I promise.”
He smiled, unbothered. Fuck, she hated what she was about to tell him. He didn’t deserve that.
She took a few steps away from Sam, answering her phone. “What do you want?”
“Aelin,” he breathed, and her spine straightened. He sounded like he was… crying. “It’s Helia, she’s hurt,” he broke down then, crying on the phone. “We don’t know what’s going to happen.”
It was as if Aelin’s world came crashing down. She had flashes. Flashes of her aunt’s dead body in her casket. Flashes of Celaena in that red water. No.
Not again.
Please, she thought as tears spilled down her cheeks. Please, not again.
She couldn’t say anything. Couldn’t breathe anymore. She barely felt Sam’s hands on her shoulder, barely felt him take the phone from her before she threw up on the street, begging the Gods she’d stopped to believe in so long ago.
••••••
@sheharahu // @morganofthewildfire // @thestoriesyoutell // @fromthelibraryofemilyj // @swankii-art-teacher // @itsforeverinnocent-blog // @becarefuloflove // @imnotsogoodatthis // @rowaelinismyotp // @a-court-of-milkandhoney // @feysand-loml // @elentiyawhitethorn // @live-the-fangirl-life // @story-scribbler // @loves-books // @fangirlprincess09 // @theysayitscrazy // @danibutterr // @endlessdaydream // @thegreyj // @gracie-rosee // @acreativelydifferentlove // @cretaceous-therapod // @louphantomdragon // @mis-lil-red // @backtobl4ck // @whoever-you-choose-to-love // @lemonade-coolattas // @mad-madeline-ace // @the-introverted-bibliophile // @leiawritesstories // @emilyoftheshadows // @anniesbookshelf // @rainbowcheetah512 // @astra-ad-mare // @story-scribbler // @superspiritfestival // @wordsafterhours // @rowaelinrambling // @black-daisy-water // @fireheart-violet // @livsdriverslicense // @charlizeed // @ladykreads // @mariamuses // @autumnbabylon // @justreadertings // @highqueenofelfhame // @earthtolinds // @bowdawn // @psychopath-at-heart // @ginnyweasley06 // @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks
#rowaelin#rowan whitethorn#rowaelin fanfiction#rowan x aelin#throne of glass fanfiction#aelin galathynius#illicit affairs#throne of glass#rowan and aelin
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I’m now a decent chunk of the way into The Shattered Medallion (halfway? a third? idk. I remember basically zero things about how the plot goes) and this game is so weird.
I’m not sure if I’m doing things out of the expected order or what, but there have been so many bits where a character says something as if I’m supposed to know what they’re talking about. “don’t you think Sonny is acting strange?” ....no?? because I’ve only ever seen him in the opening cutscene and have had zero other interaction. “this password must be for the water puzzle” WHAT water puzzle?? I got a text saying that challenge 3 was open, but we have no idea what it is yet. Etc etc etc. Every single character interaction involves me learning new information that the characters think I already know
On top of that, challenges keep ending before I’ve had time to do anything. And I know that’s intentional, but it makes me feel like I don’t have time to explore everything because new plot beats are happening so quickly.
When you put all of that together, the game feels too full. There’s so much happening and it’s all going so fast and you feel behind and you don’t have your leisure to explore. But at the exact same time.... it’s too empty. When you strip away the anxiety of racing against the competition, you’re left with a limited number of places to go and some straightforward little puzzles.
I really feel like there’s a GOOD game buried somewhere in here, but it just didn’t come through in the execution. It’s a fun premise, the snark from the announcer is hilarious, the confessional recordings we get to listen to are full of entertaining character bits, the gameshow mechanism opens up so many possibilities (no longer needing to justify why some 19th century person would build a weird elaborate puzzle! it’s a puzzle because it’s a gameshow! we can do whatever we want!)
Basically, this one just has me feeling bummed out because I see all the things it could be but didn’t manage to pull off
#cluecrewplaythru#nancy drew games#med#the shattered medallion#clue crew#also it's so very mean to bess which is a big dislike :(
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something i noticed about dave in canon is that like. part of the reason he gets attached to sky seems to be not only Because she helped him through what seemed like a panic attack but also. it doesn't seem like anyone's done that for him before?
"usually i freak out way more" this has happened before? and worse?
"sky has a surprisingly calming effect on me" <- words of a guy who does not know what it's like to have someone help you calm down
IDK. maybe im wrong but something about this was a little crazy
oh no, anon, you're def right. and it's not just a little crazy, it's VERY crazy lmaoo like no shade on the fandom bc I get it, dave isn't a well-liked character and for valid reasons, but ppl tend to forget or gloss over the questionable things he says that connects to just how shitty his childhood/current life was
but tbh td has a history of popping questionable backstory tidbits; with trent's whole thing, heather getting electrocuted by her own parents, cody's everything, mike, alejandro, duncan, courtney, the list goes on tbh, nearly everyone's got their hand in the shitty backstory jar to some degree ngl, so it kinda makes sense in a way that the fandom glosses over dave bc, like, tdpi isn't as well-watched AND it's become sort of the norm for a contestant to have a shitty backstory or part of one
but like, you're so right, anon, it's WILD, and lemme just discuss that for a sec (bc any opportunity to inspect dave under a microscope, I will never pass up)
(tw for mentions of panic attacks)
dave insinuating that he's had worse panic attacks before and that sky managed to stop him before things got too bad (which is smth not many ppl are able to do to him) def emphasizes my idea of dave's backstory that...obv it was not the best. that with the idealization of "being normal" it could be that his family just...either never got the time to or doesn't feel inclined to help him through his attacks or that he doesn't feel comfortable enough around them to allow them to do so. in schools, I feel like he's the same way--he doesn't strike me as the type to have a lot of friends, and ppl would prob tend to see him as the "weird germaphobe" which doesn't help matters at all.
and even if ppl have tried to help him before, based on his words abt sky and the implications that his attacks get worse, the 'help' from others in his past seems to have not been done sincerely, more so it was just to stop him and get it over with. there was a lack of distinct care for his well-being or just him as a person, rather just a clinical outlook to stop the panic attack. that's what I'm getting from that bit
like it brings the fact that he's had to deal with these panic attacks on his own and with only his own "calming effect" to rely on bc no one else has done it for him (and we all know how great his "calming effect" was given how badly his character deteriorated mentally). so it could be that he was so used to relying on himself, handling his attacks by himself, regardless of how bad or good that self-effect might be on his mental health, that the first person to give him that same--if not better--kind of calming effect, he latched on instantly thinking that since no one else was truly willing to be there for him in the past and present, sky helping him must be bc she cares. it's such a warped mentality that I feel, looking at it psychologically, could have stemmed from prior attachment issues and lack of proper family functioning and friendships
it's disheartening bc in the confessional right after, he looks so stunned and in awe that sky had actually calmed him down. clearly it's not smth he's used to from other ppl, so when it did happen, he reacted overly extreme and that's where things started to spiral
(going off on a tangent here, I also feel like that correlates to my own hc of dave having a distant family. he doesn't fully understand what it's like to be attached to someone, it's not smth he's used to. it's always been himself. so when sky came along, he couldn't function right, and obv I'm not blaming anyone (even though that should be a given considering I love both sky and dave as characters, but y'know, just putting that out there), it's just interesting to pick apart a character's seemingly trivial actions and words and think abt the potential underlying implications behind them)
it's why I love characters like these over the too good ones bc everything is just straightforward with those kinds, it's all laid out on the table, unless you personally make hcs to change it. don't get me wrong, I love characters from both categories, it's just that for characters like dave, it's smth totally different, there's so much going on under the surface, and personally, that's what I find interesting (maybe it's the psych minor in me rearing its head whoops 😭)
anyway, you gave me an excuse to dissect dave mentally, and I legit love dissecting characters actions/words and trying to figure their mentalities out, so tysm for this ask, anon!! (sorry for the long answer, I can get rlly into it when need be 😅)
#yes i psycho-analyzed a td character. get over it (says politely)#total drama#noahtally-famous#kit speaks#anonymous#answered#td dave#tdpi#total drama pahkitew island#tw panic attack
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I'm sorry I keep sending you so many anonymous messages. It's mostly because I don't want you to know who I am, we don't know each other but I discovered your work by coincidence and it's stuck with me. I have a strong connection to certain art mediums, but photography has never been one, which is why I have had trouble understanding why your work has impacted me this much. It feels like you captured the emptiness inside of not just yourself or the subject, but my own. I'm plagued by a sense of loneliness because of the struggle that comes with losing myself in unfamiliar surroundings, I feel as disconnected from the world as I feel more connected to it than I ever have been when I look at your craft...maybe I'm just thinking too much about all of this, if it's not obvious I have a tendency to view everything with too much introspection and little objectivity...also I realize I shouldn't treat your ask box like some weird confessional. I will probably stop now
whether you believe it or not, all that you’ve just said means a lot to me. i’m genuinely relieved that my work resonates with people this strongly, reminds me that i’m not doing this for no reason.
loneliness was a feeling that i thought i was being haunted by for so long. my mom and i moved around a lot, so i was always the new kid at school and that meant for poor social skills. i’ve never had a lot of friends, maybe just one or two at a time. i prefer it that way though now especially. the reason i say “thought” earlier is because i kind of learned to embrace those feelings of unwanted solitude and harness it into my work. so for you reaching out it means i must be doing something right.
i wish i had advice. i’ve always dealt with negative feelings poorly, i kind of just sulk or mope around haha. although before i got into portraiture i was really fascinated with landscape photography. dealing with intense feelings of isolation and secludedness i felt called to document that. maybe that could help.
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More Encanto ramblings:
You remember that priest? Father Flores, I think his name is in the script? The one who went bald?
How come he never went to Julieta for a cure?
Or is it a bit like Agustín and Mirabel’s glasses, if it’s not a strict bit of damage to the body then it doesn’t count?
#encanto#julieta madrigal#father Flores#seriously though#what are the limits#and what did he think of this#prayers must have been weird#“Lord this teenager in the marketplace just qualified for sainthood seventy times in about half an hour what do I do#“Lord I pray for rain for my crops and another teenager storms by in a huff and strikes the field are you trying to tell me something?#“Lord can we just clear up the issue of of pagan magic because I’m just turning forty and don’t want to go bald please???#confessionals must have been weird too#“Forgive me Father but I heard you complaining about your back from the other side of the valley#maybe my tia can take a look?#“Father I have an unhealthy fixation with perfectly symmetrical donkey piles#“So what are the penalties for disguising oneself as a priest again? Did I get your hairline right though?#I feel for the guy#it must have been so strange at first
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omg condoms now I like need to see Felix teasing Pepa with wearing one because he's being an asshole and giving her hell about how she's already pregnant - however early- so what does she really NEED him to cum inside her for?
I WAS WAITING FOR THIS ASK LETS GOOOOO-
Félix had just gotten the news that he was going to be a dad yet again. If that news wasn't exciting enough, he found out that him and Pepa are having the first Madrigal grandson. Pepa was happy, Abuela was overjoyed, and he was so damn excited, he was telling EVERYONE. Including the poor clerk who was sitting there, waiting for Félix to just buy what he needed to buy, and shut the fuck up already.
"And I'm going to have a SON! The only son in the family since my brother in law, you should see my wife, she's just GLOWING-"
"I'm happy for you, really. But I'm trying to close on time here."
"Oh. Sorry. Been telling everyone today. I even went to the confessional to tell the father."
Finally finishing his exchange, he whistled as he immediately made his way home. He had a wife to come home to, three months pregnant no less. She wanted her snacks, as weird as they were. He walked into the Casita, and immediately jumped at the sudden thunder. Oh no. Oh no, someone upset his Pepita. He went to the source (Félix had grown a talent for finding her when she stormed, it was sort of impressive), and there was everyone, sitting around the table, having tea. Everyone looked relieved to see him.
"Pepa, lo siento-Im so sorry I took so long with the snacks. You must be SO grumpy. How are your feet? They must hurt. Do you want me to carry you upstairs so I can rub them for you?"
"...si."
He knew that wasn't why she was mad. But making the excuse for her and taking her upstairs, was the perfect opportunity to get her to let out her frustration. After checking that Dolores was still taking her nap (thank God for sound proof rooms), he guided Pepa to her room, and the second he shut the door and had her sit down, it ROARED In thunder. He swore it almost took out all the lights in the house.
"Snacks?"
"Now."
He handed her the bag of snacks, and watched her indulge her rather weird cravings. Ice cream with fish, cupcakes with roasted corn, empanadas with beef and cinnamon with sugar, honey and chicken- it was a mess of food that was wasn't even enjoying. She was just scarfing it down, angrily with an absolute fury. He hesitated for a minute, before he decided to intervene.
"Pepa, stop! You're going to make your stomach hurt!"
Pepa cried out in anger upon him snatching the snacks away. She looked ready to kill him, before he crouched down, and put his hand on her knee. She sighed.
"It's because of the baby."
"What's wrong with the baby? Is it unhealthy? Does something feel wrong?"
"No. It's because of HER baby."
Félix immediately knew what was happening now. Julieta probably announced she was pregnant too, and Alma was probably giving HER more attention now. Félix was happy for them, Augustín deserved to have another delightful child to go with his two young daughters. But Pepa was upset. He set the snacks down on the counter, and sat next to her, wrapping his arm around her frame. His hand settled on her hip comfortably, and her head rested on his shoulder. No more thunder, but there was rain, and tears.
"Pepi, mi amor, I'm so sorry. I understand why you're upset."
Pepa sniffed, banging her fists on her lap.
"No es justo. I try so hard to get pregnant, and when I finally am, SHE has to come In and steal my thunder! I was special to mi mamá for ONCE! Now it's all about HER! I bet she'll even have a son, just to spite me!"
Ever since Bruno sort of 'fell from grace' back in their teens, Julieta has always sort of been Alma's favorite. He sighed. To him, Pepa was worth so much more, and she didn't need the approval. But he grew up differently, he couldn't just up and say that. What he COULD do, is support her, and try to get her to focus on the important stuff.
"Pepa, I'm sorry. I know you try so hard to please your mamá. But you need to focus on the important things. Like that the family is growing, that we're pregnant, and with the first Madrigal son since your brother! You can be upset, you have every right to be. But I'm the happiest man in the Encanto. I'm blessed to be here right now, with you, with him."
He put his other hand on her wet stomach, and she sighed. She still cried for a minute, and that was fine. She deserved it. And when she finally stopped crying, she looked up at him, a pout on her face.
"Beso."
"Of course, mi Pepa. Beso for him,"
He leaned down to kiss her stomach, trying not to laugh at her pout, adorable as it was.
"And un beso para ti."
He reached up to kiss her lips. Once. Twice. Thrice. And that was enough for Pepa to start to fiddle with the buttons on his shirt. She was so greedy. Pregnant Pepa wanted the whole world, and he was ready to give it to her.
"Félix. Porfavor cuidame."
He obeyed. He was careful as he laid her on her back, on top of the mountain of pillows, before kissing down the length of her body. He held her body tenderly and sweetly, wanting her to feel the love he had in his big, stupid heart.
"I'll take care of you. I'll do anything for you. I'll give you EXACTLY what you need."
He stripped her down, not in a frenzy, but definitely not taking his sweet time with it. Her pregnant body was stunning. Her breasts had grown, just slightly, her baby bump was small, but still pretty obvious if you looked for more than a few seconds. She was gorgeous. Getting her to be his wife, much less pregnant, was one of his greatest accomplishments in life. He was about to take off his pants, when she nudged his shoulder, clouds over her head in slight annoyance.
"You're forgetting something, Félix."
He didn't know what she meant at first, before it clicked.
"Lo siento. How could I forget?"
He took off his shirt, making quite the show of it (if you can't perform for your wife, you're doing it wrong), and watching as the cloud vanished, alongside her bitter scowl. She loved him without his shirt, sometimes it was enough for her to touch herself to.
"Mucho mejor~...now come kiss your wife, she needs you."
Pregnant Pepa was somehow more restless than normal Pepa. If she didn't cum at least three times a day, she'd thunder and storm until she got her way. It was a full time job, and he took it seriously. He leaned in to kiss her, practically feeling her purr as her hands felt around his body. She loved his body since the first time she saw it, and that stroked his ego like you couldn't imagine. She was so occupied with kissing him, with feeling his body hair under her hands, that she didn't notice what he was doing. He reached over to the bag that he put on the floor, and pulled out a condom.
"You want me, Pepa?"
"Yes. Please, please, I need you, n-now."
Her eyes locked onto his, trying to convey her desperation. She didn't even notice he was rolling the condom over his hard cock.
"You'll get me, Pepi. All of me. Cuida tu cabeza niño."
He loved making that stupid joke. He pushed the tip past her wet folds, and watched her fall into pure bliss. That is, until it clicked.
"Are you. Are you fucking wearing a condom?"
Oh she was already getting snippy. He held her hands over her head, keeping her from reaching down and try to yank it off. She'll get to, just not yet. He pushed himself in and out of her, giving some form of relief, but not the kind she wanted. She looked like she wanted to bite his face off.
"Si. I just bought a pack. What, does that made you mad?"
He was careful with her, for the babies sake, but that didn't stop him from bucking into her pussy, just how she liked. She was soaking wet, pussy spilling juices with every thrust. She was loving this, his heavy body against hers, cock stretching her out properly, and hands digging into her skin just right. It was so close to being everything she wanted. He shoved his tongue in her mouth, and the aroused side of her adored it, but the angry part of her forced a snarl from her lips.
"I hate it when you do this, It's not FAIR. You know I want it."
"You're getting it. I'm fucking your cute little cunt as we speak. I don't know why you're so upset."
He did. She HATED condoms. Most women demanded men wear condoms, and he respected women who put up that boundary. But Pepa was the opposite. If she knew he bought condoms, she'd toss them out the window. She hated the feeling of a barrier in between them, of him being separated from her.
"You know WHY idiota estúpido. I'm going to kill you for this, it's bad enough I had to deal with my s-sister-"
Oh she was mad. But she was feeling so good simultaneously. Feeling him twitch inside of her, feeling him stretch and stuff her pussy just right. But that one thing that was off. The one thing that kept this from being perfect. He was driving his woman mad. He silenced her angry words with a few sweet, tender kisses.
"What is it you want then? Aren't you happy that Papi is fucking you? Your pussy seems happy, you're drooling and you're steaming the room, I don't see the problem."
She was going to beat him by the end of this. And he was READY for it.
"You know I want your fucking cum. It doesn't belong in this stupid condom- I HATE these things."
"But why would you need cum? You're already pregnant?"
She looked ready to throw him out the window. His dick was possibly the only thing keeping him from getting murdered by this FURIOUS woman. He loved it. He had to mentally tell himself not to cum from that look alone.
"Because I WANT IT."
He leaned down to kiss her cute nose, and she was surprised she didn't bite him. He was thrusting into her, making the bed creak under his weight, and he knew even that sound was getting to her. She wanted to cum already, but simultaneously she didn't, all because he was keeping that ONE thing from her. Félix chuckled, letting his lips roam to the nape of her neck. He cooed into her ear, just how she liked it.
"You don't need it. Cum is for babies, and you already have one. Why would you need all that messy, creamy cum?"
Putting the image in her head made her whine, and he could tell she was keeping herself from cumming. She wanted it, but wanted it properly. Her nails dug into his wrists, and he LOVED it. It was like feeding a wild cat in a cage. Hungry, but furious, wanting to strike.
"You know I want it, you're Un bruto for not giving it to me. I f-fucking-"
She was so close. She looked damn near close to tears, her voice was loud, desperate for him. No filter, not caring who heard her.
"I'm close, Pepa. I'm going to cum."
That got her SO mad. The thunder boomed outside, and he swore she was going to strike him down.
"Don't you cum in this stupid fucking condom, it doesn't deserve it, I do!!"
He met her eyes. Green as the field, as angry and bitter as a hurricane. He loved her.
"You deserve it? You deserve all the cum Papi has in his balls? You deserve Papi emptying himself into you?"
She nodded quickly, swallowing, ribbons of drool forming in her pretty little mouth.
"I deserve it!!! Dámelo! NOW!"
He pulled out of her, watching as her empty pussy seemed to be calling out to him, begging for him to finish. He let go of one of her hands, patting her cute little cheek.
"Then take it, Pepi."
She reached down immediately, yanking the condom off of him, and throwing it to the floor with so much anger, it was flattering. Imagine a woman wanting you so bad, she plucked the condom right from your cock in an effort to get your cum. It was so full of anger, of desperation. She did deserve this. He pushed himself back inside, balls deep, and as he rubbed her clit with his free hand, she came. It was a good orgasm, great even. But he knew that cumming inside of her immediately after, made it perfect.
Pumping her full of his cum, especially so soon after her own orgasm, he hit just the perfect spot. She was shamelessly loud in her bliss, eyes practically rolling to the back of her head as every drop of his seed seeped inside of her. He still fucked her through it, not wanting her pleasure to end so soon. They were slow, hard thrusts, like the true brute he was. He kissed her forehead as she fell limp in his arms, absolutely wiped. At least, for now.
"Joder, eso fue maravilloso...~"
Pepa may try to hide her emotions from time to time, but not ONCE had she tried to hide how pleased she was. If she wasn't happy, she'd let him fucking know. But this right here, was a VERY happy Pepa. He chuckled, licking the drool off her chin, just enough for her to gently shake under him.
"I love to please you, mi amor. I'm just glad you're not angry anymore~"
She grumbled, blush making her face somehow more beautiful.
"Mierda, I hate condoms. You EVER finish in one of those instead of me, I'll never forgive you."
"I'm all yours Pepi, I just like making you feel like you've earned it~"
She huffed.
"I'm going to throw them out the window. Or put them in her drawer, since ellas quieren joder como conejos."
He tried not to snort. She loved her sister, of course, but she still talked her fair share of shit.
"You're one to talk, mi pequeño conejito gordito, given how you're insatiable."
She fiddled with one of his curls, an all too familiar grin on her face.
"I mean, you aren't wrong. I definitely need more~"
"Geez Pepa- you gotta let a man breathe here!"
"Shame on you, making your wife wait."
Oh that pout. He couldn't say no. He couldn't get hard so soon, he was a non magical man (oh if he could get a gift), but that didn't stop his hand from starting to rub her clit in little circles.
"Shame on you, thinking I can't properly take care of my wife~"
THAT was the smile he liked seeing. The sunshine and rainbows was also quite the welcome sight.
"You're such a good Papi. I love you~"
"I love you too. Both of you~"
#asks#not transformers#encanto#lemon#Félix is a great husband and dad we love it#he helps his wife and he cares about his bb#i never wanted to get pregnant but if i had to pick someone to be the daddy lowkey-
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Miles Edgeworth Gets A Migraine
A little over 1000 words of self-indulgent narumitsu.
Miles Edgeworth did not have a migraine. He simply had a headache, the kind that always followed a long day of reading case files, the dry, lengthy paragraphs making his vision blur. Sometimes, his vision stayed foggy when he looked up, with little dark splotches obscuring his sight in inky patches that resembled the notes he had scrawled on the sides of each paper. That was just what a hard day of work did to a person sometimes. A sign of focus.
“I dunno, that sounds like a migraine to me,” Wright replied after his lengthy explanation. He opened his mouth to argue but Wright cut him off and called down the hall, “Gumshoe, how often does he get migraines?”
“Hm maybe once every week or two,” the detective called back, “the calming tea is in the blue box on the shelf for it, pal.”
Edgeworth groaned and put a hand to his temple.
“I daresay I wouldn’t have a headache at all if my office were empty.”
The remark came out weaker than expected, as turning up to glare at his unwelcome visitor made Edgeworth’s head spin.
“Are you sure you’re alright? You’re looking a little pale to me.”
The genuine care in Wright’s voice made him feel more nauseous than the pain did, and his stomach did another flip.
“I am perfectly finngh!” Edgeworth slammed his hand on the table and winced at the sound. Sitting up made his vision swim again. He tried to look Wright in the eye again, to prove how serious he was, but the corner of the room housing Phoenix Wright became a blur that wouldn’t clear no matter how much he blinked.
“Objection,” a voice said much quieter than usual, and Edgeworth felt a hand come to steady his shoulder, “I don’t think you are. And I don’t think you’re going to take a break unless I make you.”
Now his coat was being slipped around his arms, the way someone would coax a child into one.
“Wright…” Edgeworth realized how little energy he had left to argue.
“Charge me for a consultation or something if you can’t stand not working, but I’m consulting you on how to walk you home.”
“You couldn’t afford it,” was all he could muster as he was marched out of his own office.
--
It would feel weird, having Wright in his house, if the pain in his head wasn’t distracting him. A hand prompted him to take off his coat, guided him up the stairs, and tried to get him to sit down; he obeyed all the suggestions mechanically, feeling like he was in a dream.
“I found some ibuprofen in your medicine cabinet, but you’re almost out,” Wright reappearing in the doorway started Edgeworth back into reality, “I got you some water to take it with too, unless you don’t drink tap water and have some fancier bottled kind you-”
“I am fine,” Edgeworth interrupted.
Nonetheless, he took the painkiller with a few swallows of water.
“I’m not going to argue if you’re fine again, but can I ask what makes your migraines go away?”
Edgeworth shrugged.
“Sleep, I suppose. When I wake the next day, the pain is gone, even if my head still feels a bit cloudy afterward.”
“So why not sleep?”
Again that earnest voice made his stomach do a flip.
Perhaps it was because they were in his home, a place with none of the expectations of their usual offices, that he found himself answering. The dim light and drawn curtains of the bedroom reminded him of the confessional feel of sleepovers from long ago, whispering secrets to a friend obscured by the dark.
“It is, for lack of better word...boring,” he turned his face in case Wright could see it growing red, “it may hurt to read or watch anything, but it doesn’t mean I’m tired, and sitting in the dark with nothing but a pounding head…and once I lie down, it’s too hard to get back up.”
He could feel his hand grip his sleeve in embarrassment. A hand was on his back but he couldn’t meet Wright’s eye; he didn’t want to see his pity.
“Alright, you got me,” the cheerful voice took him by surprise, “I guess you get to add another hour or two to this consultation bill.”
The bed creaked Phoenix Wright, rival attorney, made himself at home on the other side of the bed.
“You lie here and I’ll keep you company until you’re tired. Don’t worry, I have notes for a case on me that I can review, and I’m sure talking to me will bore you to sleep pretty fast.”
The absurdity of it all made Edgeworth laugh. He closed his eyes and leaned back into the bed.
“Yes, do enlighten me about what goes through that head of yours.”
--
Just as promised, he couldn’t remember what story Wright had been telling; Edgeworth didn’t realize he had even fallen asleep until he awoke hours later. It must have been late, because the room was completely dark, silent except for what sounded like the rhythmic breathing of someone sleeping. Edgeworth tried to remember Wright’s departure, if there was one at all, but his head felt too fuzzy to conjure up any memories. Finally, he rolled back over, grabbing the pillow next to him, and drifted off again.
The next time Edgeworth awoke it was morning. The daylight that peeked through the edges of the curtains was brighter than he was used to; he must have overslept. He bolted up at the realization and got his second shock of the morning. The pillow he had held on to last night was much larger than he thought. In fact, it was sporting crumpled up work clothes and a serious case of bedhead.
“Wright!”
The disheveled form of Phoenix Wright jolted up in bed next to him.
“Oh man, my bad, I must have dozed off too,” he said with a sheepish grin.
“Besides the point. What time is it, Wright?!”
“Don’t worry Edgeworth,” Wright yawned, “you didn’t oversleep. You were talking about how out of it you feel the day after a migraine so I had Maya cancel your morning appointments.”
“What?”
“Yeah, she said she just told everyone you had an urgent case against her to prosecute or something. It’s kinda sad that works, huh, but now you’ve got plenty of time to rest.”
“Oh.”
Edgeworth found himself at a complete lack of words, unsure if he should be angry or touched at the ways his rival had tried to look after him. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a morning to himself, and he had most certainly never had a late morning-in with someone sleeping next to him. The reality of it made his cheeks burn; he looked over at Wright to see if he was anywhere near as flustered, but Wright had already rolled over to fall back asleep.
The sight made him feel one hundred different things at once that he couldn’t pin down. He had almost found a word for some of them when Wright sprung up from bed once again.
“Crap!” he yelled, “Maya didn’t cancel my appointments!”
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HSMTMTS 2x05 Review
The Quinceañero was a truly historic ep featuring the first time two boys have ever kissed on a Disney show. Let’s dig in!
We got the second same-sex kiss in Disney history tonight, Big Shot had the first last Friday, and the first kiss between two boys in Disney history. It’s a huge step forward. That’s not to say that Disney is going to start approving more same-sex kisses or lgbtq relationships or characters but the door is now open and at least some other shows and movies will be able to eventually follow in HSMTMTS steps.
Really nice cover of The Climb, Joe has such a great voice. It was cute that young Seb had watched young Carlos’ dance vid and felt inspired. Frankie and Joe being an irl couple certainly helps give Seblos a good rapport but it also helps that creator and showrunner Tim Federle is an openly gay man himself. I think if a straight man was showrunner we probably wouldn’t get such dedication to Seblos as a couple.
It was a really funny ep too: Carlos saying his love language is riddles, Ricky asking Nini who they talk to when doing their confessionals, Carlos saying Miss Jenn was a master of smoke and mirrors, Benjamin Mazzara and Mike Bowen interacting. My personal favourite gags were when Big Red said he always wanted a nickname and Kourtney immediately did an office stare and when Nini said Picasso was a terrible person.
Gina still going through it. Kourtney is right that it doesn’t really make sense that Gina is now going to all this trouble for Carlos but to be honest the writing and pacing has been disjointed so far this season so a lot of things aren’t flowing as well as they need to. Is what Gina regrets convincing Ricky to go back on stage as that helped get Rini back together? That’s petty but fair and also true to teenage emotions (though she shouldn’t beat herself up too much, Rini were clearly on the path to getting back together by that point anyway).
Jesus Christ, Ricky needs to read the room. Last ep he correctly realized that Gina wouldn’t want to hear about his Nini issues and tried to stop Big Red from mentioning them but now he’s just doing it himself? Obviously they’re trying to drill in the fact that for now Rina is one sided but it’s a little much. Also really doesn’t make sense that Ricky wouldn’t go to Kourtney or Big Red for this kind of advice.
Sofia Wylie was killing it this ep, both her and Joe are showstoppers. A Dancer’s Heart was great and she did a good job of acting on the verge of tears almost the entire ep
At least EJ actually thought to ask Gina how she’s feeling though and she clearly appreciated it after she got over her shock. It does seem that reports of Portwell’s demise were greatly exaggerated, with the music and the longing stares they’re setting up for at least EJ to have a crush on Gina. Hell even Mazzara picked up on it at the end. I had noted last week that it seemed like Gina’s story line in S2 was being thrown out of balance by the writers dropping a planned Portwell plot and sure enough this week we actually begin to see Gina’s story arc not being entirely her pining over Ricky.
EJ also benefits by being given something to do instead of just standing around in the back. I’m glad he took Mazzara up on the AV club offer and they have a nice mentor-mentee relationship going on. It’s also a nice little parallel with 1x05 when Gina told off EJ and had a moment with Ricky and now in 2x05 Gina tells off Ricky and has a moment with EJ.
Matt seemingly dismissed Portwell as a friendship rather than even hinting at something between them. I guess he could have been told to keep it under wraps as much as possible but odd that they wouldn’t hype it a bit; it’s not like this came completely out of left field, people were wondering if Portwell might happen because of the moment they had in 1x10 and the facetime call they had before S2. Sofia has already said that Gina will have love interests this season and EJ being one, even if it’s brief, would make whole lot of sense since there’s really no one else for except Jack who only shows up much later and doesn’t seem to be in more than an ep or two.
Rini was sweet tonight. Yes Ricky is being clingy which stems in large part from his mom’s abandonment and in fairness Ricky and Nini have probably been used to spending much of their time with each other since they were kids. Loved that ‘I think you kinda you know’’ call back tonight. Looks like Nini will be cast as the Rose which should be interesting.
Miss Jenn is pulling Mike Bowen, Ben Mazzara, and Zach Roy. Good for her! Jike shippers certainly feasted tonight as Mike crashed a teen bday party just to see Miss Jenn and we got confirmation that everyone’s fave Disney Dilf was born in the 70s and must be no older than 51.
Well gotta love Lily’s commitment to bringing down East High and drinking scalding hot black coffee. She really seems like she just stepped off the set of Glee
Really hope we see those puppies and man was that wolf adorable
Not both HSMTMTS and Love Victor both making Okay Boomer jokes (it worked when Pilar said it to Felix but not when Ricky said it to his dad)
Big Red exposing Kourtney and Howie was good and it looks like their plot kicks into high gear next ep
Bet Tim thought he was real clever for that shot of Mazzara, Mike, and Miss Jenn in a triangle
A well shot ep except for one weird and abrupt cut from Mazzara saying Caswell to Seblos outside the barn
Looking Ahead:
EJ stopping Gina from leaving would certainly further their relationship and would parallel him being the one to bring her back in S1. I still don’t get why they didn’t just use the Valentine’s chocolates as a plot device to further this plot; just have EJ secretly send them as he was also lonely and you can still have Gina think they were from Ricky.
From what I’ve seen online this Portwell hint has been controversial. It’s true that there’s an age gap between the characters of 2ish years and a much bigger one between the actors but I don’t think that will stop Tim as he already had EJ date Nini. I’ve also seen comments that it would be a bad idea since EJ is leaving at the end of S2 once he graduates but he’s not actually leaving, they’ll keep him around in some fashion until the current juniors graduate.
So far it seems like Rini is the Rucas of hsmtmts, Rina is the Lucaya, and Portwell is the Joshaya.
Kowie starts progressing a bit next ep and we may possible see Antoine next week or the week after according to Larry.
Presumably Ricky’s clinginess starts causing trouble between him and Nini.
Still so funny that North High just up and decided to do Beauty and the Beast just to bring down East High.
Until next week wildcats
#HSMTMTS#Seblos#Rini#Portwell#seb matthew smith#Carlos Rodriguez#Gina Porter#EJ Caswell#Ricky Bowen#HSMTMTS Reviews
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I had a weird dream that made me think of the most crack au: the bachelorette but all the contestants are yanderes trying to kill and/or sabotage the others😂
Contestant Johnny having a feeling that yn will send him home so he poisons fellow contestant Jungwoo. During the weekly rose ceremony, Jungwoo drops dead right as he is about to get a rose so yn is like "........I choose Johnny, I GUESS??" Johnny is in the confessional after bragging about how he knew yn would pick him and naming their future kids
Taeil offers to cook for everyone to try to impress yn but she is the only one who trusts him enough to eat it
Kun does in depth background checks on the other contestants and tries the convince yn that some of them are here for the wrong reasons and may even be dangerous
Taeyong writes a song for yn that is basically a twisted version of Bruno Mars' Grenade, detailing all the things he would do for her. The other contestants are wide eyed at the gruesome lyrics while yn is like 😍😍😍
Winwin tries to go the "quiet, mysterious guy" route to get yn's attention but it doesn't work because red flags are her favorite color. He gets sent home but secretly never leaves the house. He has been living under yn's bed for the past 2 weeks and comes out to eat at midnight the remaining contestants' leftovers, causing more drama in the house
Haechan goes missing before the rose ceremony and yn asks Mark if he knows where he went since they share a room. Mark is like "idk, but don't check under the garden"
Xiaojun spends the one on one date he won teaching yn chinese. She thinks she is learning how to introduce herself but he really has her saying wedding vows
Love how nonchalant the OC is at Jungwoo dropping dead right in front of them lmfaooo
Taeil be like: "I put arsenic in the pasta... and the wine..."
Kun: *pretends to be shocked* these guys... are dangerous! I must PROTECT™️ you!!!
Taeyong just basically sings Toy Soldiers by Marianas Trench, but darker than it already is lmaoo
Winwin just really needs to take a shower, OC is starting to notice a funky smell under their bed lmaoo
Haechan went missing cause he was too clingy. The others helped Mark, and some of them even go as far to be like, "Haechan? Who's Haechan? Never heard of them." when asked about it lmaoo
OMG but the other guys plotting Xiaojun's murder when they find out about it cause the OC was like, "hey, look what I learnt!!"
This is gold though, lmaooo omg these are honestly hilarious, I love it!!
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Paint It Black
Pairing: Sam x Dean
Rating: 16+
Tags: wax play, unholy thoughts in church, incest, making out, angst
Word Count: 3.8k
Created for: @spnkinkbingo - Wax Play Kink | @anyfandomgoesbingo - Locked In | @first-time-wincest-fest 10x16 Paint It Black
Dividers: @firefly-graphics
The dreary grey of the Worcester sky matches the mood Sam is in as they trudge into the church on the main drag of the historic town centre. Dean is so convinced there is a case to be had here, but so far, Sam hasn’t seen any concrete proof. Just – as he had predicted – some unfortunately angled nude selfies on one of the deceased's confiscated cell phones. He had been less than pleased about that – to Dean’s endless amusement.
Sam leaves Dean with Sister Mathias to do what he does best, though Sam does have doubts about whether his brother’s charms will work on a woman sworn to celibacy in the service of Jesus Christ. Still, she wouldn’t be the most unlikely person to have succumbed to Dean’s flirting – Sam definitely holds that prize. Shaking himself from those thoughts – what a place to think about your weird incestuous crush, Jesus – fuck. Sorry, God – Sam follows the EMF meter in a circle around the perimeter of the congregational hall. The readings are consistent but low level, like a background energy of spiritual activity which, for a church, is not actually all that concerning to him. When a stronger surge registers at the entrance to a side chamber, Sam pushes at the door, happy to find it unlocked, and he ducks into the dark room after checking over his shoulder and seeing Dean standing quite a bit closer to the nun than strangers should be to each other.
Inside, Sam can’t find the light switch, so he grabs his phone and turns on the flashlight, aiming it at the EMF metre to get a look at the readings. The spike that had registered outside the door a moment ago has died out, and only small blips are twitching the needle on its face. He shrugs to himself, but figures he may as well check out the rest of the room now he’s here. In the short beam of light from his phone, he can see stacks of bibles and hymnals, boxes of hosts, and piles of candlesticks – your typical Catholic accoutrements. A creak behind him makes Sam spin around, only to find Dean ducking into the room, looking furtive.
“Hey, man. Find anything?” Dean keeps his voice down.
“No,” Sam shakes head, holding up his EMF reader to demonstrate his lack of supernatural evidence.
“Yours broken?” Dean looks quizzically at Sam and reaches to retrieve his own from his pocket. “Mine was reading off the charts outside…” but he trails off when he sees his own metre is just as blank as Sam’s.
“Weird, right?” Sam shines his light towards Dean and makes his way back to his brother, when the light on his phone flickers and goes out.
“Dude, turn the light back on,” Dean demands in a hushed tone. Sam shakes his phone frustratedly, but he can’t get the light to reignite. His whole phone has gone dead.
“What the hell?” Sam mutters to himself, shoving it back in his jeans and carefully stepping the rest of the way to Dean. “Mine’s dead – try yours?”
“Mine’s in the car.”
“You didn’t bring your cell phone?” Sam asks, incredulous and exasperated. Dean is such a fucking idiot sometimes, it astounds him.
“Shut up,” Dean scoffs. “Let’s just get out of here.” He turns to open the door and step back into the church vestibule – but it’s stuck.
“Dude, open the door,” Sam shoves at Dean’s shoulder.
“I’m trying, dude. It’s locked.”
“You locked us in?” Sam hisses, resolving to smack Dean’s head against the door to get it open, if that’s what it takes.
“I didn’t lock us in, douchewad. I think this place is haunted – spook must’a blocked the door somehow.”
“Well, un-block it.”
“I’m trying, it won’t budge.” Dean hammers at the door, jangles the knob, kicks the baseboard – nothing. “Find some light, will ya? Can’t see a damn thing.”
Sam huffs, annoyed, but turns toward the table with the stack of candlesticks he’d seen earlier and grabs for a couple tapers. He passes one to Dean and pulls a packet of matches out of his wallet to light his, then taps the flame to Dean’s candle. Sam drops against the table, brooding, and not wild about being trapped in a small, dark room with his brother.
Things had been tense between them since Dean’s return to humanity. Sam isn’t precisely sure why, though. From his perspective, he’s relieved to have Dean back after spending so long separated and worried about whether the brother he had known had permanently dissolved into a demonic version of his former self. Dean, on the other hand, hasn’t been acting very relieved to see Sam. Sam isn’t sure what’s running through Dean’s brain these days, but whatever it is, it’s something he’s trying to keep off his brother’s radar, that much Sam’s sure of.
“So what’s your plan of action here, Rambo?”
“I don’t know, use some of your hair gel to grease the lock?” Dean snarks, crouching down to peer at the keyhole. Sam laughs reluctantly at the jibe, then hisses as a pearl of hot wax drops onto the back of his hand. Dean turns, concerned at Sam’s outburst, to see his little brother shaking his hand agitatedly. “What’s up?”
“Nothing,” Sam flexes his fingers to break off the wax that’s drying there. “Just dripped some wax on my hand.”
“Kinky,” Dean grins and waggles his eyebrows.
“Shut up,” Sam grimaces, hoping it’s too dark for Dean to see the blush creeping up his neck. Please, God, do not let him know about…
“Ooh, touchy subject?” Dean pouts, tauntingly. “What Sammy, got a wax kink?”
“Dean, shut up,” Sam realises too late that denying it is the wrong move. He absolutely just confirmed for Dean that he does have a wax kink.
“Well, well, little brother,” Dean grins, eyes glinting like a wolf’s in the dark of the small cupboard. “Someone is more adventurous than I gave him credit for – guess church is the place for confessions, heh?”
“Dean, I swear…” Sam grits his teeth, coming up blank on a decent threat to follow up with.
“Aw, don’t be like that, Sammy.” Dean is stalking closer to Sam now, his resemblance to a predator more and more pronounced with each step towards his brother, who is inconveniently trapped against the table he’s sitting on. The candle in Dean’s hand is dripping down its body, the trails of wax building over themselves, the rivulets driving their way towards Dean’s skin. “S’just a little wax, nothing scary.”
“I’m not scared, Dean,” Sam scoffs, but his hackles are up. He’s not scared of the wax – he is scared of how his body will react if Dean drips wax onto him as he’s threatening to do right now.
“Hold out your hand.”
“What?” Sam is genuinely nonplussed.
“Hold out your hand.” Dean’s voice rumbles through the small space left between them, and Sam can’t explain it, but he obeys. Like Dean is a magnet and his body is no longer under his own control. His hand extends towards Dean, stilling in the pool of light flickering beneath the candlestick in the older man’s hand. Slowly – cautiously – Dean tips the candle, directing the flow of the wax to Sam’s outstretched fingertips. The first drops sizzle against Sam’s skin, his nerves burning from the heat of the wax and the heat of the arousal that’s blooming in his belly. Dean moves the tip of the candle to drizzle over the tender skin of Sam’s upturned wrist without needing his eyes to guide its path, because the green orbs glinting in the warm candlelight are focused solely on Sam’s hazel ones, which are watering with the effort of not flinching.
“So” –Sam can feel Dean’s words against his cheek– “do you confess?”
Sam gulps. Looks down to the pearly splashes on his skin, outlined in blush. He looks back up to Dean, who’s standing taller than him for once because he’s still leaning against the table, and he takes a deep breath.
“Agents?” A knock sounds at the cupboard door and it creaks open, dousing the brothers in light. They fly apart, and Dean drops his candle, the flame going out against the stone floor.
“Father,” Dean squawks, brushing his hands against his trousers like he’s cleaning them off, and pushing them in his pockets. “What time do you hear confession today?”
Sam hovers to the side of the confessional, trying to look like he isn’t eavesdropping, which is difficult because he is listening to everything Dean is saying about ‘Gina’ to the surely perplexed priest. They’d agreed, after connecting the dots on the murder/suicide victims’ relationship preferences, that Dean confessing his womanising ways to Father Delaney would be decent bait for this spirit. Sam had helped Dean work out a brief ‘script’ based on the infidelities of the previous victims, and he was pleased to hear that so far, Dean had mostly stuck to plan. He surreptitiously sneaks his EMF metre out of his pocket to check if the readings had picked anything up. Small jumps are registering and disappearing so fast Sam isn’t sure he’s actually seeing them but that has to mean a spirit is listening in – right? – even if they aren’t nearby right now, maybe they can still hear Dean, who has been in there for a while now, it occurs to Sam.
Sam sidles closer to the wooden partition and listens. Dean’s voice is quieter now but he is still talking to the father.
“–there’s things, people... feelings, that I- I want to experience differently than I have before. Or, maybe even for the first time.”
What on Earth was he talking about? That was definitely not part of the script they’d agreed on, so those words must really be Dean’s. Dean’s actual confession.
“–just starting to think that … maybe there’s more to it all than I thought–”
Well, that could mean anything, Sam told himself. More to what? He jumps back to Dean’s first statement in his mind. People and feelings that he wants to experience differently. Sam can’t help but think – me. He wants to experience me differently. He wants to experience his feelings for me differently. He remembers all the times Dean has shown his utter devotion to Sam, to their bond, their family of two. How do you experience that depth of love differently? Sam can only think of one answer, and his heart jackrabbits against his ribs at the thought. Could Dean actually want him the way Sam wants Dean?
The confessional door squeaks open and Sam breaks out of his reverie and moves towards the doors of the church, but not before Dean clearly noticed that he had been standing close enough to the wooden booth to be listening in.
“How’d I do Samwise?” Dean asks under his breath, smirking as they make their way down the aisle of pews.
“Well, hopefully, jerks like you are just what our ghost is looking for,” Sam smiles tightly, distracted by his own thoughts racing around his mind, and follows Dean back to the car.
Ghost roasted to the recommended internal temperature, and promiscuous nun left permanently behind them, Sam steers the Impala onto the freeway exit and starts them on the long drive from Massachusetts back to the Bunker. Dean had opted for the passenger seat when they packed up their gear at the motel, which was Sam’s first indication that something was most definitely not right. His mind flashes back to the confession he overheard the day before. People… feelings, that I want to experience differently… or maybe even for the first time. Sam hasn’t been able to keep his brain from playing the words on a loop since he’d heard them.
“So,” Sam hums, needing to fill the silence but not knowing how to keep himself from blurting out what he desperately wants to ask, “just back home, yeah?”
“Yeah,” Dean nods, looking over at Sam. “You know, unless we find something else to do along the way back,” he shrugs. Sam’s brain unhelpfully supplies, I know something else we could do, before he shuts that back down again. He glances away from the road and towards his big brother, sitting sullenly beside him. Seemingly of their own accord, his eyes scan downwards, coming to rest on the view of Dean’s hand in his lap, fiddling with a loose thread on the seam of his jeans next to his zipper. They go over a pothole and Sam’s eyes slam back on the dark highway in front of them.
“You know...” Sam tugs the corners of his lips into a tight smile, trying to inject a casual levity in his voice. He can’t just let this hang, he needs to know. “You were in that confessional a long time.” He looks back to Dean, trying to judge the stony face for a reaction. Dean’s mouth gives a half hearted twitch as if to say ‘yeah, so?’, so Sam tries again. “Look man, I’m just saying… I’m your brother. If you ever need to talk about anything, with anybody, you got somebody right here next to you.” If Sam could just make Dean see that it was okay to have emotions and feelings, and it was okay to need to talk to someone about them, maybe Dean would pick him to do that with. And even if talking is all it ever is, that’s fine with Sam. All he’s ever needed is as much as Dean is willing to give him.
Sam looks at Dean again, waiting for some kind of response, but all he gets is a short, dismissive, “Okay.” He doesn’t know why he expected more from Dean the Wordless Wonder, but he decides to try again from a different angle. Whatever these things are that Dean wants to ‘experience differently’ or ‘for the first time’, Sam knows why he’s worrying about that right now.
“I heard,” Sam starts again, “what Sister Mathias was saying about, you know, hiding pain by taking on a mission and, I- I know that’s what you’re doin’, a little bit, and it’s okay” –Sam’s rambling now– “I mean, it’s fine. I get it. I’ve done it before, too. But… I don’t buy for one second that the Mark is a terminal diagnosis. So, don’t go making peace with that idea.” Sam can’t have Dean make peace with that, he can’t have him sitting back waiting to die on him, that’s not gonna happen. “There has to be a way. There will be a way, and we will find it. That’s what we do. So believe that.”
“Okay, Sammy.” Dean looks at Sam forlornly, no doubt knowing he’s causing Sam some amount of pain, but not knowing how to fix it without giving up his own surly conviction that this Mark is gonna end him. Sam knows Dean isn’t ready for that, yet, but he can’t help pushing him.
“You wanna—” Sam scoffs, feeling like he knows the answer, but resolving to ask anyhow “— uh, try that again like you mean it.” I need you to mean it, he thinks to himself. He looks at Dean again, letting the puppy dog eyes surface in the vain hope Dean might give him what he wants. Dean blinks at him blankly, but then the crease around his eyes soften, just a touch.
“Okay,” he grunts, going back to staring at the road ahead.
It’s a twenty three hour drive from Massachusetts back to Kansas, so Sam pulls them over at a motel sometime in the middle of the night to get some shut eye and rest up for the next leg of the journey. Dean hasn’t said much since their last conversation – if you could even call it a conversation – so Sam has had a few hours to stew in the tense silence that swarmed the cab of the impala and think through all the possible permutations of meanings that could be behind Dean’s admission to Father Delaney.
As much as Sam doesn’t want to get his hopes up, and he really really doesn’t want to give his inner depravity even the slightest hit of open air – not after he’d spent so long burying it in the deepest recesses of his mind – he cannot come up with any explanation for Dean’s words than the one he so desperately wants to believe is true. That Dean wants him the same way that Sam has wanted Dean for so long, that Dean wants to know what it’s like to be more than brothers. And as soon as Sam let that thought form in his mind about a hundred miles back, he couldn’t shout himself down. And if it’s true… if Dean wants him… he has to know.
Sam watched Dean sling his bag onto the foot of the springy motel bed and slouch off to the bathroom to piss after their long drive. When he’s done Sam scurries into the bathroom, wondering how he’s going to do this. Because if he doesn’t ask, he knows he’ll never get to sleep. He splashes some water over his face and drags his hands through his hair, tugging hard, hoping the pain would help ground him. Then he takes a deep breath, and pushes back into their room.
“Dean,” Sam starts lamely, not knowing what he wants to say and floundering to the first thing he can land on, “are you sure you’re okay?” Fucking great, Sam, you know he’s not gonna answer that.
“I’m fine, Sammy,” Dean grunts, tugging his t-shirt off and chucking it on the floor.
“Listen, Dean,” Sam sighs and steels himself, “what you said, in the confessional—”
“I knew it,” Dean points his finger at Sam accusingly. “I knew you were listening in.”
“Why shouldn’t I have been, it was supposed to be a fake confession,” Sam defends. Dean huffs, full of derision, and turns away from Sam. “Talk to me,” Sam pleads, moving closer to Dean. “Tell me what’s eating you. Because I know something is. You’ve been different with me since you got back, so just... tell me,” Sam reaches out for Dean’s shoulder. Dean spins and catches Sam’s arm in the air, the Mark shining against the skin of his forearm.
“You wanna know what I was talking about, Sammy?” Dean growls, grip tightening on Sam’s wrist. “You want me to tell you just how much this thing on my arm has messed me up? All the shit that’s been in my head since I was a demon? All the fucked up things that demon made me think? About my own brother?”
Sam’s breath catches in his chest. “Tell me,” he whispers, eyes locked on Dean’s face. On his lips.
Dean surges forward – man of action over words that he is – and kisses Sam violently. It’s not tender, or loving, like Sam had dreamt about since he’d been a boy. It’s hungry and desperate, and Sam doesn’t have a problem with that. If Dean wanted to eat him alive he would let him. They break apart, chests heaving, the last pieces of them touching are Dean’s teeth clawing at Sam’s lower lip. Sam’s eyes peel open slowly, as if this will all evaporate when he looks at Dean, as if this is all still in his head. The pain in Dean’s eyes is radiant, and Sam realises that Dean thinks he’s ruined things now. Dean thinks Sam will leave him for this.
Dean backs up slightly, putting even more space between him and Sam, waiting on tenterhooks for the outburst that he’s clearly expecting from his little brother. Sam approaches Dean cautiously, like he’s trying to calm a cornered animal. He raises his arm and Dean flinches, but he continues to reach forward and lays hand against Dean’s neck, his grip stopping the older man’s further retreat. When Sam kisses Dean it’s slow and measured. He tries to pour every ounce of reassurance he can muster into Dean’s body, tries to tell him it’s okay. Tries to tell himself this is okay. Because even if they both want this – does that really make it alright? But when Dean kisses him back, Sam decides he doesn’t care anymore.
Sam starts to back Dean towards the bed, pushes him down on the edge, straddles his lap, doing everything he can to be just that little bit closer to his brother, just a little more connected – together.
“Wait, Sam,” Dean pulls back, his hands on Sam’s chest. “Wait, don’t you wanna talk about this… or something?”
“No,” Sam shakes his head and ducks in for another kiss, scared that Dean will manage to talk himself out of this if they stop now.
Dean pulls back again to protest. “We aren’t moving kinda fast here?”
“No,” Sam insists, kissing down the side of Dean’s neck. He can feel Dean is hard beneath his own arousal and grinds them together, sending both brothers into shaking groans. “Want you, De,” Sam pants against Dean’s lips.
“Okay, little brother, okay,” Dean gives Sam another kiss, his hands running comfortingly up and down Sam’s back. “But you’re sure you don’t want me to make our first time a little more special? You know, I could take you out to dinner, get you a little tipsy, do this right.” Sam pulls back to look at Dean, thoroughly confused as to where this romantic side of his brother has come from. “I could even get some candles, huh? Really set the mood.” Dean raises his brows and grins at Sam as if to say ‘Huh? Yeah? My idea rocks, right?’, and when Sam realises Dean’s making fun of him he reaches for a pillow and whacks him over the face with it.
“Fuck you,” Sam tries to pointedly shut the teasing down, but he’s knows he’ll never be able to get Dean to let this one go.
“Oh, I plan to fuck you, don’t worry,” Dean grins, and in a flash he’s flipped them over and pinned Sam to the bed beneath him. He pulls Sam’s shirt off and begins to kiss down his brother’s body, keeping his eyes on Sam his whole descent. “We can keep our first time vanilla, but don’t for a second think I’m gonna forget about that wax kink, baby brother,” Dean winks and mouths over Sam’s erection through his jeans. Sam wants to protest, but the heat of Dean’s mouth feels so fucking good, his head is already starting to go fuzzy. He settles on trying to catch Dean off guard instead.
“Only let you do it to me, if I can do it to you too,” Sam’s voice is far breathier than he’d hoped it would be. Dean glances up at him through his lashes, not at all nervous or off-put like Sam had been aiming for.
“Oh, you have so got yourself a deal.”
Tag List: @vulgar-library @tintentrinkerin @negans-lucille-tblr @fandomfic-galore @petitgateau911 @whoreforackles @schaefchenherde @kickingitwithkirk @little-diable @laxe-chester67 @kassyscarlett @sonofslaanesh69 @akshi8278 @deandreamernp @stoneyggirl @delightfullykrispypeach @lyarr24 @lovealways-j
#first time wincest fest#sam x dean#dean x sam#sam winchester#dean winchester#spn 10x16#paint it black
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Total drama Surprise
14 Brunch of Disgustingness
Chris: Last time on Total Drama Island… A note from a secret admirer got Gwen and Bridgette up in each other’s business. DJ accidentally knocked his boy Trent off the airplane, sending him deep into the Earth’s crust. Leshawna showed everybody how to hang on for dear life on the moose ride. Harold showed himself to be an ace flag-catcher, until he caught sight of Heather’s… unmentionables, causing him to crash his way right off the island, but not without a little canoodling time with the fair Leshawna. And now, let’s see what’s in store for our campers on this week’s episode of Total. Drama. Island!
Iris found it odd that Chef did want her help today for breakfast. Walking and sat on the dock looking at the moon. It was calm a peaceful just the gentle sound of water. "You couldn't sleep either?" Duncan said making the teen jump. He chuckled sitting behind me. His arms wrapped me into a warm embrace. His chin ontop of her head. No words needed to be spoken they just watch the sun rise.
It was something she didn't want to end but nothing lasts forever. The campers made their way to the mess hall. Before Iris could enter Duncan grabbed her arm. "Duncan what is it?" She asked looking up at him. But the carage he gathered soon turned to cold feet making him let go. "Nothing let's see what your dad has up his sleeve today." Damb so close but no big deal. The girl thought stepping inside sitting with her team.
Iris pov
My dad Was acting weird whenever someone tried to ask about food. Chef would snicker and laugh along with him. " OK seriously enough, what is wrong with the two of you?" I asked making them look at me. Its no secret I get cranky when I don't get food.
Chris: Congratulations to the remaining ten campers for reaching the halfway mark in the competition! You’ll all be on the jury for the final episode.
Geoff: We got the power! Yeah!
Chris: The two teams will become one next week. But first, all the girls will be moved to the Gopher cabin and all the guys will stay in the Bass cabin. This week’s challenge is as old as history itself. A battle of the sexes [Lindsay blows a raspberry at the guys] After everyone is settled in, I’ll announce the challenge. And then, you’ll have an uh… bite to eat.[He and Chef snicker] Ready for a little good news? This week, no one will be kicked off. [everyone cheers] It’s all for reward and it’s a good one. Okay, time to relocate. Let’s move! [He and Chef snicker]
Heather started kissing up to Bridgette. It was sickening to watch so I got up and left.
(Confessional: Bridgette)
Bridgette: I was a bit worried about being the only new girl on the team. Then I figured it can’t be that bad. I don’t buy that hype about how well guys get along and how catty girls can be.
(Confessional Off)
I was sitting outside when Bridgette walked over. "Hi Bridgette have fun in the lions den." I said before laughing.
Leshawna: Nobody’s leaving until I find out who ate my pudding pockets!
Heather: I ate them. So what?
Leshawna: Whoa! Pump the brakes a minute! You’re “so what”ing me? That’s my food. No one touches my food!
Heather: Whatever, deal with it. It serves you right for leaving your junk everywhere, especially that. That is bugging me.
Leshawna: Yeah, it’d bug me too if I didn’t have anything in the front or in the back to shake.
Heather: Yeah? Well, you’ve got so much junk in your trunk, your jeans should come with a trash compactor!
Leshawna: Ooh! You want a piece of this?
Bridgette: Uh-oh.
Heather: Bridgette! It’s so good to see you! Come in, come in! Welcome to our cabin. We’re like a big family in here.
Gwen: Big and dysfunctional.
Heather: Anything you need, just yell.
Bridgette: Thanks for the awesome welcome, Heather.
Lindsay: Welcome to the club! It’ll be so much fun! As long as you do everything Heather says. Ow!
Heather [after she laughs] : Yeah, we love joking around here at girls cabin. I made sure your bunk was next to mine–
Lindsay: Hey! That’s my bed. Ow!
Heather: So we can talk and share and really get to know each other.
Bridgette: Okay, yeah! Hey, thanks everybody, I can’t wait to get to know all of–
Heather: Okay! Plenty of time to chat later! Let’s unpack.
Lindsay: This is great! I bet we’re getting along way better than the guys.
I honestly hope things are going well. This den of vipers is about to explode. If on cue I heard this.
Bridgette: Let’s build bridges, not walls!
Heather: Take your pick.
dramatic music plays as Bridgette picks Gwen and Leshwana's side
Heather: You just dug your own grave.
Bridgette: Let’s try to get along, okay? Otherwise, the guys are going to cream us, don’t you get it? Tough room.
[Chef and Chris snicker]
Heather: Stop doing that!
Chris: Let’s just tell them… Today’s challenge is… The Brunch of Disgustingness! You’ll be getting a nine-course meal. Each member of each team must finish each dish. You will not know if the next dish is grosser than the last, not as gross, or just as gross. Just that it’ll likely be… gross.
Chef: Tell them what they’ll get if they win, Chris!
Chris: The winning team spends two days at a local five-star resort where they’ll be pampered, eat gourmet nosh, and be given antibiotics against anything they may have caught while participating in this challenge! The losing team will go hungry tonight and spend the next two days here. On Total Drama Island. With Chef.
The first round was bull testicles and the point went to the girls. Oh those boys could handle a little meatball.
Chris: The score now stands at one for the girls and zero for the guys! And now, the next course in… The Brunch of Disgustingness! You guys like pizza?
Owen: I could eat pizza any time with anything on it!
Chris: Anything? How about live grasshopper pizza with tangy jellyfish sauce and live anchovies?
Owen: I could eat pizza any time with anything on it!
Chris: How about live grasshopper pizza with tangy jellyfish sauce and live anchovies?
Ok even I thought it was gross please do let me get sick.
Leshawna couldn't eat it giving the guys a point making us tied. The girls freaked on her but honestly not a big deal. "Guys its not a big deal. We will win the next round so stop complaining.
(Confessional: Chef)
Chef: I was excited about the next dish. I made it from scratch.
(Confessional Off)
Chris: All right, who’s ready for the third course? Spaghetti! Well, actually, Earthworms covered in snail slime sauce and hairballs.
I barfed when it was placed infront of me.
(Confessional )
Iris- WHO THE FUCK THOUGHT THIS WAS A GOOD IDEA?! THIS SHIT IS FUCKING DISGUSTING!
*static *
(End of Confessionals)
The guys got another point and now I am getting aggravated.
Chris: All right everybody. Time for course number four. No nine-course meal would be complete without soup. Today’s special is French Bunyon soup with hangnail crackers.
(Confessional: Geoff)
Geoff: I think they just use stuff from Chef’s bathroom floor.
(Confessional Off)
Bridgette gasps
DJ strains to eat
Trent gags
Lindsay: I didn’t even taste it.
Chris: The girls win again![Gwen, Heather, Leshawna, and Lindsay cheer] The score’s now tied up at two.
(Confessional: Bridgette)
Bridgette: I think the girls really made a breakthrough as a team.
(Confessional Off)
The rounds continue and the barfing too. But we made it to the final round.
"Oh god I think I'm going to be sick." I said trying to hold it down but I dont think I can.
C
hris: Wow, it’s still tied up. We’re down to the last course in the challenge. It’s delicious dolphin wieners. Hot dogs made of dolphin.
Bridgette [after she gasps] : But dolphins are our friends!
Heather: What are you waiting for? It’s already dead. If you don’t eat it, we don’t win.
Bridgette: Ooh, I can’t! I’m a surfer! I swim with dolphins!
Heather: Eat it!
Bridgette: No! I’m not doing it. You can’t pressure me.
The hell we can't grabbing a hot dog off the plate, and then proceeded to shove it down her throat.
"I'M NOT LOSING THIS BECAUSE YOU CAN'T GROW A PAIR! THE DAMB THING IS DEAD SO SUCK IT UP AND STUFF YOU FUCKING FACE!" They all looked at me Bridgette had tears in her eyes. She coughed it all up.
DJ: I’m with you sister. I’m not eating no dolphin.
(Confessional : Chef)
Chef: I slave over a hot stove cooking dolphin. No appreciation!
(Confessional Off)
Chris: Okay, enough. We’ll solve this by having an eat-off. The one who can drink the most shot glasses of fresh, delicious blended cockroach will be the winner. This unlikely satisfying blend of eight different cockroaches is vitamin rich for your balanced lifestyle. On your mark, get set, go!
Owen and Leshwana drink the cockroaches.
Leshawna groans two times
Chris: Owen wins!
DJ, Duncan, Geoff, and Trent cheer
Leshawna groans
Heather: Leshawna, you are completely useless!
Leshawna: Oh, uh-oh, something’s coming up. [puking]
DJ pukes
Trent:pukes
Chef: Grr… [retches]
Chris retches
Duncan and Geoff Puke
The “elimination” music plays.
Chris: The guys are the big winners today. And the girls go their separate ways. Two definitive cliques have been cemented. [Heather grunts and the door rattles] For now. What shocking surprises are in store for our campers next week as they head for the big merge? Tune in on Total. Drama. Island!
#romance#original characters#oc#jealousy#fanfiction#td heather#td gwen#td chef#td trent#tdi chris#total drama#total drama leshawna#total drama island
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8. book
I decided to start writing a book. A novel, it’s going to be fiction. It’s a big project. I dread big projects. I don’t feel as if I am ever able to complete them. It’s going to be left unfinished, why do I even bother? So many projects that I’ve started and never finished. I get an idea, then I can’t make myself do the actual work to make it a reality. Why do I think I can write a book when I can barely read books without becoming distracted and doing something else instead? I give up too easily. But, then again, do I really have it in me to produce something that is good? That people would want to read? Insecurity creeps in, telling me that I will fail. I fear failure. Of course I do, who doesn’t? Whenever people say that their greatest fear is failure, all I wonder is who out there is not afraid of failure? Is there someone out there with so much confidence that they absolutely do not in any way fear failure? Even narcissists technically fear failure, it is what leads them to such ridiculous overcompensation, putting on the facade of bravado to mask their actual dire sense of insecurity. Do not fall for the scams, no person is truly without self-doubt. (Well, I guess maybe psychopaths, but there’s a whole lot of things amiss with them.)
Ever since I was a kid, I’ve entertained myself by coming up with stories, fictional universes that I would populate with characters of my own invention. When I was a kid, what I really wanted was to become a comic book writer and artist. Well, in between other gigs I imagined would suit me, including at one point wanting to be a “singing farmer,” as I put it. Still, I’ve always returned to fiction and storytelling. There’s something about creating a world that lets you so fully distract yourself from all the stressful daily hullabaloo that goes on around you. Escapism, it’s fun, it’s therapeutic, I think. There’s a reason why humans have been telling each other stories for millennia, since even before we lived in houses. Back when we were all huddled around the fire, wearing our best comfortable animal furs, sharing tales of the hunt. Your uncle who once took part in killing a mammoth, the impressive beast nearly gorging him with its big tusks. How clever he was when he noticed that the mammoth had one leg weaker than the others, and used that to his advantage. How the entire hunting party banded together to bring the behemoth down, getting all that meat to feed their families with for months! Stories make you feel good. Like as if you have something to celebrate, even when you might be starving due to the more recent hunts not having gone as well. Damn that saber-tooth tiger that killed your uncle…
Storytelling is linked to acting. Both with acting and with storytelling you have to commit. Whatever you are doing, whatever role you are performing, you have to sell it. You may be on stage talking about that time you went scuba diving with your future wife, and how you encountered an oyster with the most magnificent pearl inside, and how you made a ring for the pearl and used it when you proposed to her. You have to sell it. You have to get the audience laughing, gasping, crying, going “aww,” feeling as if they were there with you that day. Of course, they don’t know it is all just lies. You made it up. It’s all fiction. But you committed, so they won’t ever know. Storytelling is a gift to others, people will appreciate you if you tell good stories, but you’re also kinda deviant. Even if it’s technically based on a true story, you’ve certainly added your embellishments. You’re a trickster, a devious individual. No wonder actors have historically been seen as dubious folks. They come into town, romances all the young women and men, telling them big tales of their lives on the road, and they can’t possibly know if you are telling the truth or not. You may just be lying. You probably are lying. Let’s be honest, you’ve probably not told a single true thing in your life.
I am bad at the hustle. No, I can talk quite well, and I can keep people’s attention for a long while. But I can’t be a huckster. Going out there, putting myself on the line hoping people will swallow my bullshit. I can’t really avoid speaking from my heart when I do speak. Or when I write, as I happen to be doing now. This blog has so far been thoroughly candid in places, in such a way I may come across like I’m at a confessional. Not that I have much evil to confess, but I can’t help but be transparent. I can’t flip into different kinds of personalities, each with its own schemes and plots, being some master manipulator, someone who you can never figure out what they're truly up to, or what they truly want. No, what I am is clearly written on my face. I’ve got one self, and it is the one before you. He’s hairy, and tall, and a bit of a dork. I am happy to talk to you, to engage with you, but I won’t be anyone but myself. I am me. I hope that’ll do.
Of course you are familiar with all those pick-up artists that plagues the internet. Or well, not just the internet. Go into any old-fashioned bookstore (where they store books on paper, not in digital code,) and you are bound to find some sleazy book written by a sleazy guy about how to sleazily seduce women. Those books don’t want you acting like me. According to them, seduction is all about manipulation. To figure out the very right thing to say to get women to fawn all over you. They don’t want you to be sincere, telling the truth as you see it. Nah, you gotta keep that stuff bottled up, deep down inside your soul, because most likely, your true self is ugly. It’s interesting how you can get little details from these pick-up artists depending on the sort of things they say, the tips they provide. The fact that all of them seem to harbour this festering misogyny is no big surprise, but every so often, you get these little glimpses of these people’s true worldview, one where power is everything, true love is a fallacy, and happiness is a lie manufactured by Hollywood to make us all into docile consumers. No wonder the “red-pill” so often leads to people taking the “black-pill.” First hucksters will lure you in, telling you that they’ve got the secret as to how to be a success, then when they’ve got you isolated, they reveal to you how truly misanthropic and bleak their actual beliefs are.
I am fascinated with cults, for much of the same reason why I am fascinated with storytelling. What is a cult leader if not just a great storyteller? They’re something like the modern day shaman, capable of spellbinding people with their weird idiosyncratic way of speaking. High-functioning people with autism are often said to have an idiosyncratic way of speaking. No, I am not suggesting that cult leaders are all somewhere on the spectrum, though it wouldn’t surprise me if some famous cult leaders did turn out to have been on the spectrum. However, for an autistic person to become a cult leader, I think they would have to be a true believer, and not some fraud just looking to scam others. Ultimately, no autistic person would want to surround themselves with people unless they truly do believe it is essential, to like, save mankind from damnation or something. It’s the difference between sincerity and insincerity. It is difficult for autistic people to be insincere, as insincerity requires a lot of social skills that autistic people struggle with. Having to juggle all these balls in the air, making sure you keep the big lie going, that you remember to change your behaviour depending on who you are speaking to in order to keep them from figuring out that you’re a bullshitter. Hollow people are great at being insincere. People like L. Ron Hubbard, the founder of the highly profitable cult that is Scientology, was at his core a hollow individual. He had no problems twisting the minds of the people around him, because he never felt a need to be sincere. If an autistic person were to become a cult leader, I can guarantee you that it wouldn’t be a profitable cult. Nah, autistic people aren’t in it for the money, we’re all about keeping it real.
Being a sincere person, surely I should be able to write a novel and make it feel earnest. Like it was delivered with passion, because I wouldn’t be able to write anything that wasn’t true to myself. Well, I do hope so. Having something I’ve made be referred to as genuine is something I see as a great compliment. I’m a student of art history, I’ve made some “serious” art before, I know how terrible art can be when it is not delivered with good faith. Sure, some art is cynical, or ironic, but even then, it tends to come from a real place. Good artists, even when they’re fully armed with the dada mindset, must believe in what they are doing. Whether they are doing it for a laugh or not, that’s irrelevant. Even if all you wish is to be silly and make something that is comical, you have to believe in what you are creating. Or else people won’t bother engaging with it. Why look at a painting by someone who is just interested in making money? Insincere artists do exist, and they can end up becoming quite successful, but ultimately, history won’t be kind to them. Damien Hirst comes to mind, heard he's into NFTs now.
Sure, I don’t like insincere people. Does that make me a bigot? Like, it’s not as if they can help themselves. It’s just who they are, spineless maggots with no soul. It doesn’t mean we have to hate them. No, no, no... I am just generalising. Don’t go thinking there’s just two kinds of people in the world, the sincere and the insincere. It’s not a binary. Most people are both, just like with introverts and extroverts, humans are complex. But there are definitely those that decide to feed into their insincere side, realising that it is often the key to success. Through insincerity, you learn to let go of self-doubt, you stop worrying so much about what others think of you, because you are never truly yourself. If they hate you, then so what? They don’t actually hate you, they just hate a role that you are playing. So what if you seduced that woman, made her feel as if you were the perfect match, then you ghosted her and completely forgot about her? It’s her fault for falling for your tricks. You were clearly just playing the game, being a super-seducer, she should have known better. By embracing insincerity, it’s like gaining a superpower. No longer do you have to care about the impact you have on others, no longer do you have to worry about what it means to be a social human being making choices that affect the others around you. Because you’re not the person they think you are. Actually, you’re not quite sure you’re the person you think you are… Who are you?
I’ve got the plot all laid out in my head for the novel. It’s going to be based in the fantasy world that I’ve been working on for the last few years. I’ve been working on this world for almost half a decade now, come to think of it. Why do I keep feeling as if I am never able to keep to a project, when I’ve clearly been working on a massive project all this time? Sure, it’s all just in my head, but it’s not as if most people have the kind of patience to keep going back to a single big project, even if it is just in their head. Not once, while thinking about my fantasy world have I been distracted and started thinking about cute puppies, instead. And you know how difficult that is. Maybe I am too hard on myself. Maybe I will finish this book, and maybe people will want to read it. Maybe it will even get a minimal number of angry reviews, like, I may get a book published without some folks trying to harass me into committing suicide for daring to think I can write. Some people may even be enthusiastic, blowing up my ego with great praise. Maybe someone will come along and tell me that they want to buy the rights to make my book into a movie or a television series. Maybe I will get rich? Maybe I will get famous! Woo! Success here I come!
Well, no, here I go being insincere. That’s not what it’s about. I should be writing this book because I want to write it. Because I want to prove to myself that I am able to write it. Sure, it’s not as if there’s not a little brain goblin inside my mind whispering sweet nothings about how one day I might turn out a real respected author. One with real fans that gets to do big book tours talking about how brilliant I am, how brilliant my work is, and how brilliant things are going for me. I am not going to pretend I don’t have the same aspirations for success that others have. Inside of me you will find the same greedy piglet of an ego hungry for more adoration and more validation that you will find in any person. Humans don’t know when to quit, we always want more. But I am at least safe knowing that I will never debase myself, descending to the same depths as those inhabited by soulless grifters who go through life abusing the trust of others in order to get by. I’m sincere, in the end. I always turn out sincere, in the end. I am a good boy.
And I am also really sexy. I don’t think I’ve mentioned this before on this blog, but I am really, REALLY, sexy. Like, you wouldn’t believe it. Oh, I am so hot. And if you follow and subscribe and hit that bell, I will teach you how you can be just as sexy as I am! And buy my book! And my merch! And my new single! And of course, my new cryptocurrency, by the name of “autism-coin.” It’s going to be a real success on 4chan, let me tell ya!
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Untangled - Part 4
Her looks again, catching the culprit in the act, “It’s that fucking weird guy,” Henry swings open her door, “what’s your problem, huh? Leave her alone. It’s the middle of the night!” He slams the door and grazes his thumb on her cheek quickly, not wanting to be too forward.
Inspired by: Butterflies // Kacey Musgraves
Y/N - Your name
S/N - Sisters name
B/I/L - Brother-in-Law
B/N - Brothers Name
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
⭐️This chapter contains sexual content. Please do not read if you are not a fan of explicit material. Please excuse any mistakes 🖤
“Do you always pout at compliments?” He enjoys that she cocks her said to the side, gearing up to return the banter.
“No, In fact-,” A knock at the door cuts her off.
He shares confused glance, “I take it you’re not expecting anyone?”
Y/N gets up but stops to grab his forearm, “Come with me.”
He doesn’t hesitate to grab a candle and guide her, but her hands are so cold he can’t help but clasp his hand over hers, “Your fingers are freezing!”
Y/N is too worried to appreciate the sweet gesture, “Shut up and see who it is!”
“It’s your apartment!” He guffaws and rolls his eyes.
“Henry! Just look through the thingie.” The way she’s said his name could leave him melting right in the narrow hallway.
“Fine.... I don’t see anyone?” He tries not to show his concern in order to save her from worrying even more.
She squeezes his arm, “What?
“No one is-,” Another knock comes from the hall.
Y/N’s eyes go wide and her grips tightens even more, “I’m gonna freak out.”
Her looks again, catching the culprit in the act, “It’s that fucking weird guy,” Henry swings open her door, “what’s your problem, huh? Leave her alone. It’s the middle of the night!” He slams the door and grazes his thumb on her cheek quickly, not wanting to be too forward.
She notices this time but the twinge of anxiety grows, “I’m— I’m...still probably gonna freak out.”
He walks her to what the couch, “It’s ok. If he comes back, I’ll handle it.” He grabs another candle and sits down with her, “I’ll make us more tea. Warm up your hands.” He leaves a candle for her in hopes it comforts her. Y/N is skeptical of his kindness but is glad that someone is here. She wishes she could text her sister or best friend and have a secret confessional with them about the literal savior in her apartment.
When he arrives with the mugs, he does so with a sincere smile, “Got the tea. This might be the coziest, weirdest date I’ve ever had.”
“Oh, we’re on a date?”
“I’m calling it a date.”
“I don’t know if I consider being trapped in my apartment a date.”
“I wanna be trapped here.”
“Oh,” He’s giving her the eyes again.
Her foot accidentally brushes against a sliver of left exposed by his shirt riding up and he breaks eye contact, “My lord, why are your feet so cold?”
He pushes they away, and relief washes over her that he didn’t tickle them. She hates tickling, well, kind of, “Don’t touch my feet.”
He scoffs, “Your toes were on me, even with socks on they’re like ice cubes!”
He pokes at the top of her foot, “Leave my toes alone!”
He gently pushes the mug in her hands closer to her face, “Drink your tea!”
She pouts, “You’re lucky you’re good looking.”
“I’m lucky to be here.”
She sing songs, “Corn-y.”
“I think you like it.”
“And who wouldn’t? You’re like, offensively charming.”
“Oh yeah? Well, so are you,” She laughs, cackles almost, but he genuinely doesn’t understand, “What?”
Y/N isn’t exactly insecure but she’s no dummy, she knows she can be a bit awkward at times, “No, I’m not. I mean, I don’t know. I’ve never been called charming.”
Henry moves close to her, picking a small piece of fuzz from her sweater out of her hair, “You’re sweet and funny, and I like you.”
Y/N sips her tea before responding, “You don’t know me yet.”
She tries not to moan at his fingers running up and down her exposed ankle, “I’ve been here a bit now and I like you so far.” She can feel every single butterfly flutter inside her.
She mocks his movements from before, “Drink your tea.
“You like me.” He knows she does.
“Maybe.”
Liar. “Just maybe?”
If he could read her mind, should would absolutely have to cease to exist, “I’m warming up to you.”
“If I hadn’t been in that lift, do you think I’d see you again?”
“Honestly?”
“Honestly,” he’s still mindlessly touching her ankle, it’s sweet but sensual, and she likes it.
“No.”
He almost whines, “Why?”
“Well, do you?” Henry takes her mug from her, stealing sip before sitting it down.
He raises that god forsaken eyebrow, “Honestly?”
She rolls her eyes, but with a smile, “Honestly.”
He shifts his weight on the couch, making sure he can see all of her, “I’m leaning towards yes.” He taps on the glass of the window behind the couch, possibly trying to distract her from his answer, “I was fully prepared to go back to that bar and hope you’d be there again, and I’m determined to see you after tonight,” Henry looks back to her, adoring her hands wrapped around the silly mug.
“You’re very sure of yourself, you know that?”
He snatches the blanket from her lap, throwing it over himself, ”I know.”
“God, you’re terrible.” She smirks at his failed wink, ”Did you also know that you can’t wink?
“I can wink.”
Y/N’s stifles a laugh, “You’re just blinking.”
“Then I’m blinking with intent.”
“And what’s your intent?” Henry discards her mug to the small coffee table.
There’s a comfortable silence before he speaks up again, “I intend to make you laugh.”
She tries to grab the blanket back but fails, “Well, you’re making me cold instead!”
He grabs her legs and lays between her thighs as he lays his head on her chest, “Make yourself at home.” Her heart is pounding and she hopes to God that he can’t hear it.
He snuggles in further, “Let me keep you warm.”
“I didn’t peg you for the cuddle type.” She was wishing he was, though.
Henry hums then takes her by surprise, “I don’t think I’d like to be pegged at all, actually.” He feels her belly underneath him move as she lets out a big laugh. “Maybe if you buy me dinner first.” He succeeded in making her laugh harder, and it’s as good as he hoped.
“You have a lot of nerve calling me cheeky when you’re the one making jokes about pegging.” He rests his head on her chest again, delighted that she hasn’t told him to fuck off. “You’re not as serious as I thought you’d be.”
He sighs, “You’re as cozy as I thought you’d be.”
Y/N responds sarcastically, “I’m so glad you're comfortable.”
“Oh, I am. You’re extremely comfortable,” He feels her tense a little bit but is relieved when she relaxes, “I don’t usually ease into something like this, this stuff anyway.”
“A little hound dog, are we?” Henry pinches her side and she squeals, “I’m kidding!” He laughs against her, she finds it soothing, “If you must know, you’re quite comfy yourself. I’m sure you’ve figured out I don’t ease into this either.”
He moves upward and the butterflies return when their foreheads touch, “We’re you gonna let me kiss you earlier?”
“Yes.”
Yes. “Really, now?”
“What do you mean ‘Really?’” They can feel each others warm breath, and why doesn’t just kiss her already?
“You said you were shy sometimes.” She tries to calm her breathing but struggles when his noses rests on hers , “Gonna let me kiss you now?”
All she can muster up is a hushed, “Yeah.”
“Good,” He kisses her softly at first but he begins get into it when her hands roam in his hair, and slide down to the sides of his face. Y/N lets out a little moan and that does it for him. He grabs her hip and rolls into her, breaking the kiss to see that her eyes are still closed, “Come here,” Henry pulls her into his lap, hands still firm on her, “You’re fun to kiss.” She places her hands, now warm, on his chest. He wants to know what she’s thinking, if they have the same thing on their mind.
She runs one finger across his mouth, almost as if he wasn’t real. The way he’s looking at her is unexplainable but she likes it. You could even say she loves it. He smiles at her and giggles. How dare this man giggle in such a cute way when he looks like that? “What’s so funny?”
“I have an adorable creature sitting on top of me, kissing me in the dark and her hands are all over me.” Her hands put more pressure on his chest without even realizing it, “I didn’t think this is how my evening would up.” She smiles, but this time she doesn’t hide it. “Well, I had hoped it would but-”
“Mmm, scoundrel,” She continues to kiss him but harder this time, allowing things to get heated. She nips at his lip before kissing his neck.
“Did I mention how fun it is to kiss you?” He lifts her while aimlessly walking.
“Mhmm,” She kisses his cheek and giggles, “lost?”
“Which door’s the bedroom?”
“That one,” He kicks the door open, drops her on the bed, but leaves. What?
He returns with two candles, which allow her to see him much better, “Too dark.” He gently lays on top of her and kisses her while he tugs on her sweater. He notices she gets shy, “Don’t be shy,” he kisses her again before pulling off her sweater, smiling through the kisses he leaves on neck and chest. Y/N’s hands rake through his hair, “I like that.” She lets out one of those god forsaken giggles, “I like that, too.” He sucks on her nipple and feels the grip on his hair tighten. Henry moves back to her lips, “I really like that.”
She licks her lips, “Take your shirt off.”
“Oh, not so shy anymore.”
Y/N takes her turn at kissing his neck, "Take it off.” He obliges and she kisses the center of his chest.
Her leggings are next. He can feel the small bumps rise on her skin. He delicately kisses her calf, then her thigh, "Are you cold?” Another kiss.
“A little bit,” Her voice is soft, quiet. She’s drinking every moment in.
He plants a kiss on her other thigh, “You need a blanket?” She shakes her head and a nibble at her thigh causes her to gasp, “You sure?” He moves closer to what’s waiting for him, kissing her skin between every single word, “It’s-been-a-very-cold-rainy-night.”
Y/N can barely compose herself with his kind of teasing, “God.”
“What?” He grins wickedly.
“Stop that.”
He taunts, “Stop what?”
“You’re being a tease!”
“I am?” Henry hooks his fingers in the hem of her underwear but kisses the front before pulling them down.
She sits up on her elbows and practically hisses, “You know you are.”
He kisses this time, harder, “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”
She rakes her fingers through his hair, “You’re awful.”
“That’s not nice, “ He licks the fabric, "what happened to that playful, sweet girl on the couch?”
“You’re not being nice.”
“I think I’m being perfectly kind, Darling,” He finally pulls the underwear down her legs and give her one broad lick. Y/N drops her elbows and rolls her hips into his face. He wants to makes sure she’s feeling good but not that good, not good enough to bring her close. He kisses her legs, belly, being all too gentle. Thunder claps and she jumps right into his mouth, taking advantage and giving her full pressure.
He pulls away, wiping his mouth as he comes back up to her face, “You still have your pants on.”
She undoes his belt, button and zipper, and then pushes them down with feet, “How’d you do that?”
She shrugs and grins innocently, “Hidden talent.”
“Any other talents?”
“Maybe you’re not the only one who good at being a tease,” Y/N bats her lashes to add to her facade.
“Oh yeah?”
“Mhmm,”
"Give it your best shot,” The pair begin to kiss softly in-between their words.
“What makes you think you deserve my best?” She has a hint excitement in her voice.
They share a tempestuous kiss this time, “Give it to me.” She can’t help but think, ‘What a greedy boy’.
Y/N pushes him off, leaving him surprised. She sits on his stomach, hands on his chest, “Give you what?” He tries to kiss her only to be pushed down again, “Give you what?” He’s pleasantly shocked and can’t find his words. All he can do is grip her thigh, “Give you what, Henry?”
“You.” Charming.
“Me?“ Y/N fakes confusion, lightly grazing his crotch before moving off to the side. She swings a leg around his waist, running a finger along waistband of his underwear. “What do you want from me?”
A hand moves to touch her face but she softly grabs it, sticking middle & ring finger in her mouth, guiding them down her belly, “Christ, you are a tease.”
He feels a nibble at his ear and a finger trailing down his own stomach, “How hard can you get before you can’t take it?” Y/N is not so shy anymore, and it’s better than he imagined. “How long do I get to torture you before you fuck my brains out?” He honestly doesn’t know how to answer, “I bet you feel so good it hurts.” Good God. He’s surprised in the best way when she finally but barely touches the head of his dick, “I want—,” Y/N’s wrist is pulled away and held behind her back with his left hand, leaving his right to wreak havoc.
“How wet can you get,” He slowly puts one finger inside her, withdrawing quickly, “huh?” He takes control by taking a fistful of her hair and pulling her neck to the side, allowing him to give her a bite, “Talk to me. Now,” Henry could play this game all night. She couldn’t wiggle out of his grip even if she wanted to, “I said talk to me.”
Her voice is shaky, desperate, “Condoms, top drawer.”
He catches her off guard by grabbing her throat, “Is that any way to ask?” He loves it when they just melt like that, they crumble the second he grasps their neck, “Ask me.”
Her eyes close in complete bliss, “Please.”
He squeezes her throat, “Please what, Sweetheart?”
Y/N wines, “Fuck me.”
He smiles while reaching for the drawer, “Get on your back.” He can’t get his boxers off fast enough. He puts the condom on and kisses her as he slides into her, “Christ.”
He has a serious look on his face, making her giggle, “So serious for something that’s supposed to be fun.” Her legs wiggle and squeeze around his waist.
He raises an eyebrow while grinning. He rolls her on top and eagerly grasps her hips, “How am I supposed to act?” His smile widens while she grinds her body into his. He can’t help but smack her behind, causing her to pause and moan loudly. “Who’s the serious one now?”
She rolls her hips a few more times, “Harder.”
It was pure heaven to his ears, “What was that?”
She laughs and her nails dig into his velvety chest, “Harder!”
Henry more than happily obliges, “With pleasure.”
She yelps with pleasure, both laughing and groaning loudly, kissing and moaning. His hair rubs against her sensitive clit. He feels her twitching and knows he doesn’t have much time left. He pulls her close, bringing their chests are together, his hips thrusting upward while he whispers, “Come on. Come for me. I can feel it. Come for me.” He becomes more aggressive, hips slapping into each other and listening to the wet sounds it creates.
“On top,” She’s on her back again, grabbing his hair and kissing him desperately while she grows closer and closer to her orgasm. She can feel those blissful tremors running throughout her body. Y/N can’t stop matching his rhythm even though she’s tired.
“Feel so good.” He goes even harder and he feels that twitch inside her. “Get back on me, right now.” She sinks down on him, allowing him to feel even more surrounded by her, “Fuck,” she places a hand on his throat, the other pulling his hair, “Y/N.”
He smacks her ass as a little reward, “Oh!”
“Gonna wake the whole building,” He kisses around her neck until he can do nothing but hiss and groan. Her trying to catch her breath is what really does it for him. He can hear it in her voice. She there, she’s right there, “Come for me, baby.” He bucks into her and she unravels. The trembling moans and shaking lead him where he needs to be.
“Henry,” She sounds so exhausted but that small whimper of his name was instant gratification. As soon as it left her lips, he became a pathetic mess underneath her.
Her head falls to his chest, finding comfort in the rise and fall. It’s quiet for a few minutes until he kisses the top of her head, “Don’t move yet.” She’s so tired that the warmth of his body could put her to sleep in seconds.
He wraps his arm around her back, “Ok.”
Y/N hums, “You’re warm.”
“Your pussy’s warm,” He laughs before she can even react.
“Oh my god!” She buries her face into his chest.
“I’m literally inside of you, how can you be embarrassed now?” She rolls off of him, wrapping a sheet around herself and she heads to the bathroom. She returns moments later, still wrapped in the sheet.
He pulls her into him, kissing her repeatedly with over exaggerate smacking sounds, “Go clean up before I kick you out,” She would never.
He comes back and finds her under the covers, looking insanely at ease, “Any room for me?"
Y/N waves him over and scoots as close as she can to him, “Are you always so warm?”
“I don’t know but I’m glad it’s cold in here.”
“Is it mean if I say this is weird?”
“If what’s weird?” He tries not to sound nervous.
“I’m entirely too comfortable with you.”
“What do you mean?” His genuine curiosity could make her stomach rumble if she wasn’t so tired.
“I don’t typically bring people back to my apartment when I first meet them. I just like the privacy, but I felt comfortable with you right away.”
“If you’re worried about this being a one time thing, don’t. I intend to go on an actual date. I wanted ask you at the bar.”
“Why didn’t you?”
He shakes his head, “Your sister kinda scares me.”
She laughs loudly, “You should be scared of her.”
“Can I say something weird?”
“Mhmm.”
“I’m not usually this intrigued. I’m usually... more controlled.” Don’t scare her off, Cavill.
She gently pulls a chest hair, “Is that a sex joke?”
“Excuse me, that hurts,” He playfully winces, “and no, I’m just afraid I’ll make myself sound like a dick.”
She rolls her eyes,“Just say it.”
“Well, I don’t go home with women, I never do. It’s a rule, I bring them back to where I’m staying, like an agreement.”
“Why would that make you a dick?”
“It kind of makes me sound like I don’t care,” he licks his lips, “like i’m using people for sex.”
“You said it was an agreement, and so what if you only wanted sex? You’re a grown ass man.” He’s relieved but it’s still something he’s insecure about. When you have so many eyes on you, things can get misconstrued, “If you don’t want to stay and talk, you don’t have to, you know?”
He whispers, “Y/N,” His intention wasn’t to make her think he wanted to leave, “I didn’t say that as an excuse to go.” Her face falls, she didn’t realize it was a sensitive topic. “What I’m trying to say is, is that maybe I’m too comfortable with you, too. You’re so lovely.” Her lips fight a smile.
“I’m so sorry, “ she snorts, “but you’re so sweet and corny.” He rolls his eyes and pinches her butt. She squeals and pulls more chest hair in retaliation.
Henry yells a bit too loudly, making Y/N shush him, “I wanna stay.”
She kisses his cheek, “You can stay.”
“Good, this bed is obscenely comfortable. Why is everything about you just so nice?”
She lets out one of those classic Y/N giggles, “I don’t know.”
“This blanket is so soft. These pillows,” He squeezes and tickles her, ”this girl!”
She quiets him by covering his mouth, “It’s too late for that!”
He checks his watch gets out a muffled, “It’s about 4:30.”
“Really?” She removes her hand.
“Mhmm.”
She snuggled into him, using his chest as a pillow, “What are you doing tomorrow, or today, I guess?”
“Nothing until Monday.”
“You wanna sleep in with me?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
“You know, it hasn’t thundered in a long time, that rain sounds so good.” She hums in response but doesn’t offer an other words, “Are you falling asleep?”
“No.” Soft.
“Yes, you are.”
She nuzzles into his shoulder, “Nuh uh.”
He places a kiss into her hair, “Let’s just listen, shall we?” Henry knows she’ll fall asleep soon and he doesn’t mind. He zones out on her breathing and the rain tapping on the window. He can’t remember the last time he felt so peaceful while working on a project. He closes his eyes and before he knows it, he dozes off.
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