#if I have to come back I will come with a different name

[rjkooks]

i'm outside, let's talk. (m)

you finally give in and talk to your ex after numerous attempts of him trying to contact you. surely, nothing will go beyond mere communication, right?

. pairing: exbf!jungkook x afab!reader . wc: 1.3k . genre: porn with very little plot, exes to lovers . cw: just two exes that don't know how to be exes lmfao, car sex, penetration, unprotected sex (don't be like them), doggy, dirty talk, dom!jk, sub!reader, creampie, i think that's it lmk if i miss anything!

a/n: heh... long time no see. after two years of hiatus, i thought about posting smth rlly short to ease myself into writing again :) happy reading! feedback is highly appreciated!

jungkook: come down jungkook: im outside jungkook: we need to talk

what more should be there to talk about? scoffing, you dismiss the string of messages your ex sent, proceeding to go back to your previous activity of mindlessly scrolling through tiktok videos.

why should you talk to him? he had a decision — and the decision he ultimately chose was to disrespect your relationship and leave, much like perpendicular lines never to cross again: that’s the only closure you need.

however, jungkook is different.

you think of him as an insect — those annoying ones in particular. once it gets in your abode, it’ll suddenly forget its way out and invade your precious space as if living with you free of charge.

that’s what your ex is.

stubborn, incessant, and most notably, stupid.

so, it’s not much of a surprise when you see his name appear on the banner on top of your phone again, one text being sent after the other.

jungkook: don’t leave me on read jungkook: i’ll climb up ur window if i have to, ___ jungkook: please baby i wanna talk with u jungkook: istg if u block me jungkook: pls dont

you were about to block him actually, if it weren’t for the video that redirected your attention.

“no caption, no hashtag, you were meant to see this! you’re going to get back with your hot ex tonight and i mean it. he’s thinking about you right now and is thinking of ways on how to make up for his mistakes. go get him, girl! get your fine shyt back!”

you swore your eye twitches after watching an absolute stranger predict the next moments of your evening.

with your ex’s unceasing messages and a random video that is severely relevant to your current situation, is the universe really giving you all the telltale signs you need?

as olivia rodrigo said, you probably shouldn't, but seeing him tonight isn’t a bad idea, right?

after deliberately having an internal conflict, you finally made up your mind after careful consideration.

you’re just going to talk. what harm could there be in that?

so, you heave a deep breath before standing up from your bed, your legs bringing you outside the premises of your home to see his black mercedes parked right in front of your lawn.

you stride over to it in quick steps with the intention of holding a brief conversation with him before you bid your final farewells: that’s what you hopefully thought.

assuming he’s inside the vehicle, you tapped on the tinted window a couple of times before you hear his muffled voice, “get in.”

you do as he says, sitting next to him on the passenger seat, and you almost regret it. it was no surprise that it was dim inside, and the air conditioning of his car only made goosebumps prick your skin, and what’s worst of all is the familiar scent of his perfume permeating your senses again.

and that’s when the realization sinks in that you’re actually with your ex boyfriend right now.

you gaze at him silently. thankfully, you couldn’t see his face clearly in the dark, but his features are still there. you part your lips to break the awfully dead silence, yet your voice came out more meek than you’d like.

“you said you wanted to talk..?”

he lowers his gaze to where your hands are placed right on top of your thighs. he knows his presence was suffocating you, so he can’t help the sigh that escapes his lips. “yeah, just wanted to clear some things between us.”

that’s the last thing you remember your ex saying before he has you bent over in the back of his car.

“ngghh… jungkook!” you gasp, a string of drool dribbling from the corner of your lip as you leave a faint handprint of yourself on the fogged window.

“oh, fuck,” he hisses feeling you clench down on his throbbing length. “missed this tight cunt so much,” he groans before landing a harsh spank on your ass, for sure leaving a red mark that will sting for days. “you missed this dick too, baby?” he pants through ragged breaths, and you could sense that damn cocky smirk plastered on his face despite being behind you.

he pulls out another cry from you when you feel his dick kissing your cervix. “y-yes..!” you sob, face buried in the leather seats.

a chuckle full of menace was heard from him as you feel his slender fingers wrap around the roots of your hair, forcefully tugging you until you’re eye-level with the window.

he rips sob after sob out of you, undoubtedly aroused from how your gummy walls were sucking him in so eagerly, a creamy ring of white making a mess out of his length.

“bet you couldn’t find someone who can fuck you like i do, huh?” he huffs against your ear, voice hot and heavy as a tattooed finger presses itself against your clit. “that’s why your slutty little cunt is making such a mess on my cock, right?”

you mewl, resting your head against his shoulder as you nod eagerly. your bottom lip was trapped between your teeth, rendering you speechless from the way he’s perfectly molding the shape of his cock in your pussy right now.

seeing you like this—all hot and vulnerable beneath him, he couldn’t hold in the cocky grin on his face, his ego inflating to a size larger than the earth itself.

he lands a particularly harsh slap against your ass, making you yelp in pain before you fall face flat on the leather seats again.

and when he sets his pace to that of raw, primal need, you begin to tremble, sensing as if your legs are about to give in on you any moment.

“j-jungkook—hah… too much,” you whine, feeling your impending orgasm approaching rapidly.

“cum with me, baby,” he pants, pressing his solid chest against your back, leaving you no room for any escape.

the way the tip of his leaking cock kept kissing your soft spongy spot has you seeing stars. his car became way too humid from how long he’s been fucking you, and you could care less whether the car could be seen rocking back and forth in the middle of the neighborhood, or whether or not the obscene noises you and jungkook were making could be heard a block away.

“please… wanna cum s’bad!” your words come out slurred, brain turning into complete mush devoid of any thoughts aside from cumming.

“awww, my baby wants to cum?” he coos sweetly against your ear, turning absolutely feral seeing you all submissive for him, sobbing as you beg for some sort of mercy from him.

and of course he’s going to give it to you.

he feels your walls hugging him for dear life, as if never wanting him to pull out, and he swears he could die a happy man like this right now.

“go on, baby, let go. i got you,” he whispers hotly before swiping your clit three more times, giving you the most delicious orgasm you haven’t tasted in months.

you tremble violently beneath him, a long whine escaping you as he fucks you through it, soon cumming right after you did.

he groans, flooding your hole with his warm cum before finally pulling out a minute later.

exhausted, he plops himself right next to you, and neither of you have spoken for a few minutes, merely the sound of your mingling breaths could be heard in his dark mercedes.

however, when you look into his eyes, you can see the change of look from lust to determination. you notice him hesitating for a bit, and before you could ask your ex what’s wrong, he swiftly cuts you to the chase.

“give me one more chance, baby.”

[dcxdpdabbles]

Clark: Mr. Wayne, can I ask some questions for the Daily Planet? Bruce: Certainly, especially for a reporter as handsome as you, Mr.-? Clark: Clark Kent. Bruce: A name as lovely as the man. Fitting. What questions do you have? Clark: There have been hundreds, if not thousands, of paranormal incidents reported within the Gotham Clock Tower, built and owned by your family. Do you believe these rumors have any weight? Bruce: You mean the legend of the Ghost Boy? Well, it's an interesting story, but in all the years I've been inside the clock tower, I've never seen the famous Phantom. Of course, I also haven't been inside it often, as my Grandfather closed it to the public due to safety concerns, and that included my family. Clark: Then you think that nothing is inside the tower? Bruce: I think the paranormal is real, especially with aliens like Superman being real, but I genuinely believe the Gotham Clock Tower ghost is just an old wives' tale. Clark: Hmm. Including the Lure? Bruce: Yes, including the Lure. As any Gothamite can tell you, the legend states Phantom's singing lures children into the Tower to never be seen again. Children are cautioned not to walk near the Tower after sunset or fall victim to the Lure, but I visited the Tower multiple times as a child, and many other children did too. It's often a dare Gothamites do as teenagers, practically a rite of passage. Clark: Quite a dare. Bruce smiling: It keeps things lively. You know how kids are. They claim they aren't scared, but everyone who does the dare is shaking in their boots. Clark: On the topic of those dares: What are your thoughts on recent rumors claiming that the string of missing teenagers are victims of Phantom? Bruce: I know Batman has made a statement, indirectly, since Commissioner Gordon was the one at the press conference - that he believes Phantom is behind this, but there is just no proof. Personally, I would rather a real detective investigate the missing cases than a man who hides behind masks. Even if Superman agrees with Batman. Clark: You don't seem to be much of a Batman fan. Bruce laughing: You seem to be one. I can tell I upset you with my opinion of him, but really, I think Batman is worthless and necessarily violent. He only punches at the problems but doesn't seem to fight for a better life quality in Gotham, and that's where crime really comes from. Clark is annoyed: Batman risks his life for this city. Bruce: You risk your life walking through the city. But I digress, if people want to believe Batman's warning of Phantom waking to kidnap teenagers, well, that's their opinion. Clark: Thank you for your time, Mr. Wyane. I'm sure many Gothamites will agree with a man as knowledgeable as you. Bruce: Thank you! And hey, if you're inclined in the same gender, I'm free this- Clark: Good day, Mr. Wayne. Tim watching Clark leave: What was the point of that? Bruce: Kent has a sway over the public; if he writes to take the warning seriously, then the people will listen. How was the stakeout? Tim: Oh, there is definitely something in the Tower. Its glowing green eyes locked with mine six different times, no matter how much I moved on the roofs. I was far away enough that Lure couldn't reach me, but I did hear a faint singing in the wind. Phantom is back. Bruce: Then tonight, we contact Zatana and John. That thing is going to give the kids back.

[luffydotcom]

love and affection

synopsis: sharing an affectionate moment with them feat: luffy, zoro, sanji warnings: none! notes: based on these headcanons i made of where these characters are most physically affectionate, made them into short fics for u guys :) enjoy

luffy

luffy stares at the unconscious marines on the ground surrounding him, letting out an exasperated sigh. he said he wouldn't get caught up exploring the island, yet here he was having to finish off another fight. the security on this island is so tight, it's like this whole day he's been on his feet dealing with way too many marines for his liking.

he doesn't wanna waste time when all he can think about is being with you.

thankfully, the ship isn't too far, and he knows his way back unlike a certain mosshead.

when he climbs back onto the ship, you're the first thing his eye catches. you're leaning against the railing off the sunny, your chin resting on your hand with your back turned to him. before you even register that luffy's there, you feel a rubbery pair of arms taking hold of you from behind, and the next thing you're tangled in them.

"LUFFY! you scared the hell out of me!" you laugh, feeling his arms around you as they tighten you into a soft hug.

"my bad!" he giggles, holding you closer. "i just really wanted a hug right now, i'm pretty tired. you don't know what i've been dealing with all day!"

"let's lie down inside, you can tell me all about it," you tell him as he wraps his arms all around you and you can't help but laugh more at how attached he's being to you. it feels like you're covered in vines, but you don't mind at all.

zoro

you've been looking for zoro everywhere, only to find him resting against the railing of the ship, eyes shut and arms folded. as you step close and bend down to get a closer look at his face, you're surprised to see that he isn't reacting at all.

is he really asleep? you wonder, waving your hand in front of his face, but still no reaction.

hesitantly, you quietly set yourself beside him, careful not to accidentally wake him. glancing at him, you can't believe how peaceful he looks. he isn't much of a talker anyway, but somehow he seems so quiet and ease when he's sleeping. it feels so different to the zoro you see in battle.

feeling a bit brave, you slowly begin to lean so that your shoulder touches his. you breathe out a little sigh of relief when he stays asleep. you should seriously get up and go, but something seriously makes you not want to leave his side. you decide staying there for a while wouldn't hurt.

but before you know it, you find yourself drifting off too.

zoro opens an eye to see you peacefully sleeping beside him and snickers to himself. really thought i was sleeping all along, huh?

it's a risk, but he doesn't want you to be uncomfortable there or for your neck to hurt. very carefully, he shifts you so that your head is laying on his lap, afraid to make even the slightest noise in case he wakes you.

thankfully, it all works out. you're comfortably laying on his lap now. now it's his turn to watch you resting, smiling to himself at how close you finally are to him, not wanting to lose the moment just yet.

sanji

sanji puts the last of the dishes away, turning around to see that the kitchen is finally clean - well at least until luffy comes back demanding another snack.

he tries not to strain his hands, especially with all the cooking he does every day. but today they slightly ache from all the things he's been doing: cleaning, cutting, chopping, frying... just to name a few.

the kitchen door opens as you enter, and sanji's eyes light up automatically. "y/n! i missed you."

"i just saw you at supper," you laugh, coming closer to him. you cock an eyebrow, noticing that despite his excitement to see you, he seems a bit preoccupied with looking at his hands now. "what's wrong?"

"oh, it's nothing," sanji waves his hands. "i was just..."

before he can continue, his breath catches in his throat as you suddenly take hold of both his hands mid-air. "y/n, what are you-"

you study his hands, noting how soft and delicate they are despite everything they're put under every day, and how they fit perfectly in yours. you hold them close, bringing them to rest on your chest right where your heart is.

sanji is completely speechless at your action now, afraid to even breathe wrong. his heart is beating so fast he's sure you can feel it in the pulse of his wrists.

"you shouldn't work them too hard," your hands tighten his more, but gently, before you kiss his knuckles softly. "i don't want you to ruin your hands when they're just so perfect."

you look up from sanji's now shaky hands and stifle a laugh to see him completely unable to look you in the eye. he looks away to avoid your gaze, blushing like crazy. he clears his throat. "i... um..."

"my bad, my bad," you let go and cover your mouth to avoid laughing at how flustered he's become in such short time.

© luffydotcom

[goorgeousz]

commando | emily prentiss underwear trilogy

commando | emily prentiss

underwear trilogy

pairing: emily prentiss x fem!bau!reader

summary: emily became a professional in guessing your underwear. but one time she missed it.

content/tw: mentions of alcohol, emily guesses reader’s underwear, reader goes commando, flirting, (if i missed any please lmk! )

word count: 1.2k

a/n: I hate this fucking name (underwear) but I can’t think of anything else. There will be a part three (if you want me to tag you when it’s out, lmk!), fear not my horny emily admirers <3

tag: @snoopyaah

part one here

main masterlist

“Rough night?” you ask Emily, watching her rest her head on her hands, pressing her temples like it would magically make her brain come back to normal.

“Very.” she muttered, raising her eyes from the position to stare at you.

As always, her staring made you uneasy.

For the majority of your life, you were sure who you were. Your likes, your dislikes. About food, weather, clothes and people. It wasn’t like you labeled yourself, you didn’t. But you never actually questioned yourself. Ever.

Yes, you found women attractive. Yes, you’ve kissed one or two during college years. For fun. For science. But it wasn’t something you consciously thought about. You didn’t have a moment when you realized you liked women. 

You didn’t.

Right?

It wasn’t something you thought about. Like it was, somehow, out of your league. Something that your brain wasn’t capable of developing. You never thought ‘oh, I am straight’. You just also never thought you weren’t. 

And that wasn’t a problem. It never stopped you from sleeping at night. It was never a topic on your therapy sessions. You managed to get where you were (all the way up to the FBI) without thinking about it.

Your sexuality simply wasn’t a question for you.

Until Emily happened.

All it took was one heavy flirting and all your convictions shattered. One night at a bar she mentioned your underwear, and you lost it.

And then, you started to notice things. It’s not like you never noticed them, it’s just… different. For example, how the scent of her shampoo (coconut, because why not?) filled the entire room when she undid her ponytail, usually after a long stretch. How she always leaned back and wiggled her eyebrows proudly when she told a joke (usually a terrible one). How she pronounced your name, dragging the last syllable when she asked you a favor, sharp and pointed when she was annoyed, singing-songing it when she had something funny to say.

Emily was all up on you, being in presence (you were table partners) and in thought (you couldn’t get her out of your head).

“You want a refill?” you asked, pointed to the half-empty mug in front of her, the coffee in it probably cold.

“If I taste this cheap ass disgusting coffee I will throw up” she groaned, dropping her head down again. You chuckled. At the sound of it, she snapped her head up, her eyes slightly widened like she had an idea “Let's make a bet!”

“Let’s not.”

“Yes, let’s do it!” she disagreed, pushing herself up and smiling greedily. You rolled your eyes, because of course she would have it her way (you always let her) “If I guess your underwear correctly, you’ll get me a coffee from the cafeteria downtown.”

“Absolutely not! I just got here.”

“I’ll do all your paperwork if I guess wrong.” you eyed her suspiciously.

“Why don’t you ask Reid?”

“Ew. I can’t picture Reid in underwear. He’s like a sibling.”

“And I’m not?”

“Nope.” she answered with a ‘pop’, her stare warming you up inside. “I’ll do your paperwork for a week.”

“Fine.” you agreed, more to change the subject of her not seeing you as a sibling than the prize suggested.

She clapped her hands in delight, leaning back on her chair and watching you up and down.

“You’ll have to turn around.”

“Absolutely fucking not. That was not on the deal.” you pointed at her. She laughed, shrugging.

“Worth a try. Fine.” then resumed the staring. Just when you were close to calling the whole thing off (all the staring was actually doing a number on you), she started to speak “You blow dried your hair, and you’re wearing lip gloss. Which means you’re in a good mood.”

“Feeling pretty puts me in a good mood, oh you’re so good.” you snarked, sarcastically. She didn’t flinch, continuing her analysis.

“No, you woke up in a good mood. That’s why you’re all doll up. And you never wake up in a good mood, unless you’ve got eight hours of sleep.” she calculates a little more “You never manage to sleep eight hours when you’re in your period, so I can discard those comfy granny panties you own.” you roll your eyes.

“Was that really necessary?”

“Very.” she states, seriously “Alright, we’re almost there. You got here in time, so you had time to get yourself ready. You’re wearing a cotton candy colored bra, I can see the lace peeking out of your shirt.” you glance down horrified and close another button of your shirt, to which she just grins “You’re feeling yourself too much to not be using a matching set. So maybe a tong, cotton candy-colored and lace. Little pink bow on each side. Garcia gave it to you on your birthday. This earned me a cinnamon roll.” she pointed, giving you a cheeky grin.

“The fuck?” you whispered to yourself, getting your car keys and stomping outside. You sighed loudly as you heard Emily’s laughter in the background.

This started a tradition of some sorts. Everytime she wanted something (which usually included food, overpriced coffees and/or reports) from you, she made a bed. Somehow, she always got it right. And it never fails to make you blush furiously.

Which led you to another Saturday night, on your ‘monthly single-only exclusively night out’ (Garcia named it).

You, Emily, Garcia, Morgan and a not-very-excited-but-just-now-after-four-monthly-meetings-is-starting-to-get-used-to-it Spencer. The only singles in the team.

For some reason you and Emily got picked out to get the third round of drinks for the group, so now you were standing side by side on the balcony watching the bartender prepare five margaritas (to which Morgan was surprisingly excited for).

“If I guess your underwear right now, you owe me a shot.” she tried, already smirking.

You snorted, mimicking her smile before complying “Go on.” because there was no point in trying to stop it. You had just as much fun as she did, and right now the loud music and the previous two drinks did their job in keeping your worries far from your mind. So any thoughts of how you shouldn’t be feeling like that about your coworker just vanished, leaving you with nothing but her lingering eyes and how kissable her lips looked under that light.

“There’s no way you’re wearing lace under that dress.” she pointed out, making you laugh in agreement. That night you decided to go a little out of your way, choosing a backless skin-tight dark brown dress, its length stopping on your mid-tights. You felt good in it, and the ogling you kept getting from Emily did a poor job in humbling you.

“What else?” you encouraged her.

“You’re a freak for matching colors, so I’d say you’re wearing one of those invisible thongs. Probably the same color of your dress or something red-ish.” she decided, raising her eyebrows in expectation.

Your lips curled into a smug smirk, and Emily interpreted in a bad sign. “Oh oh.” she murmured.

Encouraged by nothing more than the alcohol-boldness and the desire stirring on the pit of your stomach from weeks of teasing, you leaned closer to her, speaking in a mix of teasing and amusement tone, your lips ghosting the shell of her ear.

“Oh, Em. I’m going commando.” 

[baronessvonglitter]

paying off the debt

joel x fem!plus size!reader x clint | wc: 1.6k

summary: when your husband doesn't pay his debt, the two men coming to collect decide on a different form of payment

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Explicit. DDDNE. TW: non-con. Dub-con. Infidelity. Unprotected p in v. Oral (m & f receiving). Degradation. Slut shaming. Titty slapping. Nipple play. Dacryphilia. Anal fingering. Spanking. Creampie. Reader is plus sized and wears a silk nightgown, has female genitalia and breasts but is otherwise not described. A few mentions of another Pedro-char not shown. Never beta'd because this all happened so quickly, dear god. If I've missed anything please let me know!

a/n: this is my submission for the Magic Number Writing Challenge hosted by @mothandpidgeon , @schnarfer , and @whocaresstillthelouvre ❤️ I have wanted to write something for these Clint and Joel for the longest! And I hope I've done Clint justice, as it's my first time writing him. (He owns me, heart and soul.)

Shoutout to @milla-frenchy who is the Queen of Hot Threeways and who was my cheerleader for this little daydream-turned-writing project. You're the best, Milla!

dividers by @firefly-graphics 👑

JOEL MILLER MASTERLIST | FULL MASTERLIST

You'd only ever caught glimpses of Clint between a crack in the door or through the blinds when he'd come by to speak to your husband. A big, scary, intimidating man like him, rough-looking, though handsome, face decorated with scars.

And now he's between your legs, slurping away at your pussy while his buddy, another big, strong man referred to as Joel pins your arms over your head on the other side.

It was just after seven a.m. when they knocked and you, still in your white silk nightie from last night, answered it, still half-asleep, not thinking.

"We're here for payback, little lady," Clint had growled, hands on your hips as he pushed his way into your home, Joel at his heels. "Tried to talk some sense into your husband but it ain't takin'. Now we gotta show him we mean business."

Now you're sprawled on your bed, still unmade at the early hour, Clint's tongue plundering your cunt while Joel's big hands hold you down, thumb lightly stroking over your wrists, as if to soothe you, as if it's a romantic tryst you're engaging in.

Shocked into submission, you let it happen, too overwhelmed by his ravenous appetite to think about anything else. Clint swirls his tongue around your bud before teasing your folds, licking at the jucture between your thigh and torso, eyes lifting to watch your expression, to see you slightly struggling against being pinned down. He knows he's got you, and with his lips sealed around your needy clit, it's game over. He holds you down as your hips lift off the bed, still in control, keeping at it while you drench him.

"There now, see, that wasn't so bad," he murmurs, getting to his feet as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. "Damn, you're so pretty when you come.."

"She is," Joel agrees in his gruff voice.

"I was just getting you ready for me. Trust me, little darlin', you can't handle me without getting ready first."

The moan that escapes your lips is absolutely sinful. His cock is a stretch to fit, even as wet as you are, your cunt takes time to elongate, housing him deep within your center. And though he doesn't give you time to adapt to his size, he does go slow and steady, your thighs bracketing his as he thrusts lazily, looking down at the way your silk nightie is pushed up over your generous hips. He tells Joel to push the top half down, and when he does they both paw greedily at your tits.

"Dave likes 'em thick, huh?" Clint growls with a punctuated thrust. "Round ass, big tits.. and tight pussy."

At the mention of your husband's name you whimper, teeth sinking into your bottom lip in shame. You shouldn't be enjoying what's being done to you. They're doing it for themselves, to send a message. But you're getting off on being their plaything.

"She's lovin' it." Joel's fondling you, pinching your nipples and giving them a few light slaps. That and Clint fucking you is starting to send you over the edge.

"Yeah she does," Clint says proudly. "She probably can't even come unless someone's holdin' her down." He nods at Joel to let go of your arms. You keep them there, flexing your hands as the circulation finds its way back to your wrists.

"She likes it!"

"Little slut."

Clint picks up the pace, spurred on by your neediness. Your hips find his rhythm and match it, drawing him in deeper. "That's right," he rasps. "Touch yourself. Lemme see you work that pretty little clit."

Your fingers desperately circle your nub, working yourself into a frenzy as he fucks into you, spreading you open on his fat cock. Above you, Joel leans down to suck your nipples. You lick your tongue along his cheek until he stops to kiss you, plundering your mouth with his tongue.

"She's fuckin' feral," Clint growls, shoving himself into you ruthlessly. "Keep that mouth of hers busy, Joel. She's about to explode soon."

Joel unzips his jeans, pulling out his thick length. Head to the side, your mouth waters at the sight of it, long, cut, girthier than Clint, with precum already beading the top. You don't have to be told twice to suck it. Your lips wrap around it as he holds the base, feeding it to you. Clint slows down marginally, watching you start to suck off his friend.

Joel thrusts shallowly, going deeper when you start moaning. "Gonna bruise the back of your throat, honey."

"That's right, gag her," Clint adds. "She wants it. She's fuckin' dyin' for it."

You're drooling around Joel's cock, his balls hitting your chin as you're moaning around him, incoherent, gluttonous, insensate.

"Fucked her stupid," Clint sneers. "Time to give her what she wants.." He's panting as he takes hold of your thighs, hoisting them around his hips and slamming into you, the lewd sounds of your colliding flesh the most obscene and perfect thing you've ever heard.

"Your husband know he married such a slut?" Clint continues to taunt, breath growing heavy as he nears the edge. "Gonna show him when he gets home.." His hips stutter before he spills deep inside you, and as you moan your throat constricts around Joel, who pulls out before he can blow his load into your mouth.

You're vaguely aware of them switching places, and then you're put on your hands and knees. You don't care; you're not in control. Your body is simply a funfair, a ride to go on, and it's a kind of freedom in just letting them do what they want. They're still taking care of you, Joel rubbing his length against your still-sensitive clit, sliding in between your folds and between your ass cheeks before he notches at your entrance. You're soaking wet with your fluids and Clint's jizz, making the way easier for Joel to slide in, an appreciative sigh leaving his lips. Your moan is muffled by Clint's semi-hard dick probing your lips, your tongue coming out to swirl around the crown.

"She's so good," he moans, running his fingers through your hair. "She's makin' it all up to us for her sorry-ass husband's debt."

"Gotta come around more often, pay her a little visit when Dave's out," Joel says with a sneer, his large hands digging into your hips as he thrusts home, bottoming out as your cunt squelches wantonly.

"Suckin' me so good," Clint moans again. "Get a taste of yourself on my dick, darlin'. I bet your husband doesn't give you his dick often enough, that's why you're beggin' for it from us, huh?"

You moan as his tip touches the back of your throat and you gag. "Eyes on me," he tells you. "Lemme see those pretty eyes waterin' while it's chokin' my dick."

He's bruising your throat, your mouth stuffed with him as you practice breathing through your nose. Meanwhile Joel's balls deep in your cunt, watching himself slide in and out with ease. His thumb traces the puckered outline of your asshole. "Your man ever take you here? He ever claim this tight little hole?" He spits on your hole and eases his thumb in just enough to make you squeeze around him. "I bet Dave's never even touched it. Probably never even asked, has he?"

"He asked you a question," Clint says sharply, squeezing your jaw in his hand. "You better answer him."

"No," you answer them, swallowing more air after Clint removes his cock from your mouth. He slaps your cheeks with it before feeding it to you again. "Good girl," he praises softly, something like kindness in his eyes as he palms your tits, kneading them softly.

"Poor thing's been so unfulfilled. Her pussy's only gotten wetter the more we talk about her like the piece of meat she is." Joel's hand lands with a hard smack on your ass and you yelp.

"It's the only thing she's good for," Clint agrees, holding your head still while he fucks your mouth. Your moans turn to an endless, tuneless hum as Joel speeds up, sensing you're close to coming for him. "Fuck, she's tight. She's damn near gonna drain me."

"Fill 'er up, Joel. Get it in there nice and deep so she'll be leaking both of us for days."

Joel's face contorts, brow furrowed, teeth bared as he gets close, and right as you come he pulses within you, shooting his cream into you.

"Turn her over," Clint barks, and Joel takes just a moment more to keep the feeling of your sweet snatch around him before pulling out. A little semen dribbles from you and he stuffs it back in as he moves you onto your back.

"Pretty little white nightie," he sneers. "Gonna give you somethin' else white to wear."

Your nightdress still hiked up over your thighs and pulled down showing off your breasts, Clint stands between your legs and strokes himself. With a few pleasured grunts he comes, painting your mound and belly. You're panting, trying to come down from the summit of the strongest orgasm of your life as they spread your legs, lift your knees up to view the damage.

"Jesus, this pussy's ruined."

"She's gaping."

"Keep our cum inside you, baby, as long as you can. Let your man watch it drip out when he comes home."

You're too fucked out to say anything as the men take their leave, staring up at the ceiling fan, slowly circling in the early summer heat.

"Dave's not gonna like that," you hear one of them mutter.

"Fuck Dave. He should've paid up."

taglist: @itwasntimethatdidit40 @tateypots @thedilfdiaries @sunshinehaze1

and anyone else who reads this, I love you so much ❤️

[kunareads]

if i believe you | chapter nine

teach me to walk

clan head!satoru x reader

prev / next series masterlist / full masterlist

wc: 4.6k

a/n: this chapter dragged me through three different circles of hell. also, if you've been waiting for smut......... keep waiting!!! also, see this great ask about this chapter if you’re curious

content: fluff and angst and yearning as usual

INTERACT HERE FOR TAGLIST!

18+ please <3

steam curls against the mirror, softening the edges of your reflection into something unfamiliar. the house is quiet—blurred, somehow. like the hush that settles over a church after everyone’s gone home.

you move automatically. lotion over your skin, loose clothes pulled on with distracted hands.

the sleepiness from the car is gone now. stripped away the moment you were alone. why can’t he be here?

it feels ridiculous—childish, even—after everything. after all that time spent holding each other at arm’s length. but it doesn’t matter. the ache’s still there.

he was warm beside you. brushing his lips against your knuckles. teasing you, gentle and shameless, like the kamo gardens were yours alone. like he hadn’t nearly made a scene at dinner.

you could almost believe him, you think. you could almost believe he means it—the warmth, the constant ease—if it weren’t for the questions still echoing in your head.

you sit at the edge of your bed and the silence presses in—insistent, expectant. waiting for you to admit it to yourself.

he’s not coming to you.

you know it the way you know the shape of your own hands. instinctive. not because he doesn’t care—never that. you remember how he looked at you when you broke. the way he held you even though he didn’t know how to fix it.

i’ll be here when you’re ready, he’d said. he meant it. still does.

and that’s the problem.

you have to be the one to break the silence because he won’t bring it up. won’t pry, won’t ask why you said the things you said—i’m failing you, you didn’t want me, i’m not what you need. he won’t ask what it meant that you asked for answers when neither of you were ready to give or receive them.

and until then, you’re stuck circling the same questions over and over, too afraid to ask them out loud in case he confirms your worst fears.

why did he say no?

why, even now, won’t he touch you?

and the one that you can’t acknowledge without shame burning hot behind your ribs:

are you allowed to want something from him?

you know the answer. it’s always been no. wanting is selfish. wanting is dangerous. it means asking for something you haven’t earned and don’t deserve. wanting is sinful.

but wanting sneaks in anyway. it settles in your stomach when he’s close. it curls in your chest when he reaches for you. steals your breath when he’s warm and laughing and looking at you like he did tonight.

and you have no idea what to do with it.

because if wanting isn’t shameful—if it’s allowed, like he wants you to think it is—then it has to be named. spoken out loud and handed over.

it’s terrifying.

not just because the words are too big in your mouth, but because you’ve never said them before. never been allowed to say i want this, or i want you, or i want to understand why you don’t want me back.

but the longer you sit here, the more unbearable the quiet becomes. it’s not cold anymore, and it was never really punishment. it’s waiting.

he’s waiting.

you felt it in the way his face went soft when you made his favorite dessert. in the kiss he left on your hand and in the space he made for you at the table. in the way he said nothing in the days after your parents left—not because he didn’t care, but because he promised to follow your lead.

so if you want answers, you have to ask. you have to reach for them. for him.

but what if asking ruins everything?

and what if not asking leaves you stuck like this forever?

you stand before you can talk yourself out of it.

you pad through the house, one hand trailing the wall as you pass. the wood is strong under your fingers, solid in a way you’re not. you press your palm into it a little harder, needing the anchor.

the front door is half-open. the night breathes through it, cool and silver and smelling faintly like earth. you drift closer, hovering in the doorway.

satoru sits on the veranda, loose-limbed and still. his head tips back against a post, sweatpants and a t-shirt replacing the robes from earlier. he looks… relaxed. content, even.

maybe you’re imagining the gap between you. maybe if you stay quiet, it’ll shrink on its own.

you can’t see his entire face from here, but you can see the patience. the way he knows you’re standing there, and he’s trying not to reach for you first.

maybe he’s been waiting.

maybe you’re about to ruin everything.

you stand frozen. the night hums between you, quiet and watchful.

and then—before you lose your nerve—you step outside.

you don’t sit. you wrap your arms around yourself instead, a few paces away, the air brushing cool against your skin.

“satoru?”

your voice is quieter than you meant it to be.

he turns his head slightly, enough to show you he’s listening. he stays where he is otherwise, giving you all the space in the world to turn back and pretend you were just passing through.

“can i ask you something?”

his answer is immediate. “anything.”

your fingers tighten against your sleeves. you keep your eyes on the edge of the veranda, too afraid to meet his.

“what are you waiting for?” you ask.

he doesn’t speak right away.

not because he doesn’t know—you’re starting to understand that now—but because he’s not willing to rush your words. won’t knock them out of the air before they land.

and that might be worse.

it might be easier if he got confused, or defensive, or told you that you’re wrong about everything. but he just sits there and waits.

so you keep speaking.

���i mean…” you shift your weight, the thought still forming. “i keep waiting for you to take something.”

you glance down, fixing your eyes on the floorboards like you might sink into them.

“that’s what was supposed to come next, right?” your voice cracks despite your best efforts. “i thought if i just… let you have me, things might make sense. you were supposed to—”

you stop. you can’t say it. own me. use me. make me belong to you. the more you learn about satoru, the more the words seem unfathomable connected to him anyway.

he doesn’t rush to soothe it. doesn’t offer you anything yet—not comfort, not contradiction. and that’s the most terrifying part. that he’s really listening.

you press on, because if you stop now, you won’t start again.

“i don’t know if i’m your wife,” you say. “or a guest, or someone you just feel responsible for now.”

you pause. swallow. the words taste off, but they’re the only ones you have.

“i don’t know what i’m supposed to be to you,” you continue.

“i keep thinking maybe it’s just me. maybe i’m not something you want.”

you wince at the sound of it. it feels naive and humiliating, like you’re confessing to something selfish. but it’s out now, and you can’t take it back.

you raise your eyes, finally.

not because you’re brave, but because you have to. you need to see what this all sounds like to him. whether it’ll be written across his face.

it’s not.

he’s just watching you. silent and very still. like he’s scared you’ll disappear if he blinks.

“am i not something you want?” you ask.

the quiet that follows is awful. thick and endless. your heart slams against your ribs, and your arms tighten around yourself like you might be able to keep the ache from spilling out.

for one terrible moment, you wonder if you’ve broken something you can’t fix.

but then satoru exhales. shaky, like you cracked something open inside him.

“come here.”

you freeze, heart pounding. part of you wants to run. part of you wants to fold yourself down, apologize for asking at all.

but the bigger part—the one he’s been coaxing out of hiding since the day you met—wants to believe him.

“please?” he says. “just for a second.”

when you move, it’s slow. one step, then another.

he waits.

he waits until you’re standing right in front of him, until you’re within reach because you chose to be, and only then do his hands rise, carefully uncrossing your arms from your chest like he’s untying a knot.

he pulls you down gently, letting you kneel to his level, and wraps you into his chest, his arms folding around you like a shelter.

his chin rests lightly on the crown of your head. the warmth of him seeps in immediately, steady and grounding. you breathe him in—cotton and soap and something stubbornly, stupidly sweet.

he holds you like he’s scared you’ll vanish. one hand draws slow, absent circles along your back, soothing something nameless.

it’s a long time before he speaks.

then, carefully—

“i’ve wanted you this whole time.”

the words fall so simply, so unguarded, that for a moment they don’t make sense. like you’ve misheard him.

you blink.

that can’t be true.

you almost say it out loud. he’s already looking at you like he heard it anyway.

“but you—” he stops, his voice catching. “you were bracing for me to hurt you.”

it hits something deep inside you. it’s not an accusation. it’s an ache. a terrible, tender thing he’s been carrying alone.

you hadn’t even realized it showed.

you go still against him. completely still. and he knows—he knows—you’re remembering it now.

your wedding night. his voice, quiet. you look like you’re waiting for an execution.

“i couldn’t—” he breaks off, the hand moving across your back going still. he exhales unevenly. “i couldn’t make that your first memory of us.”

the words settle between you like something sacred. something terrible.

you lean your forehead into his shoulder and squeeze your eyes shut. the weight of everything you’ve been carrying—what you were taught, what you tried to be, what you should be—presses down harder.

your hands twitch against his chest. you pull back, curling into yourself on instinct. your knees draw up, arms wrapping tight around them. you feel small, stupid, unfinished.

it’s easier not to look at him. easier to let the words fall into the space between your knees and his feet, where you can pretend he won’t catch them.

“i don’t—” you start, but you cut yourself off. the shame hits too fast, too hot. you’re not supposed to say it out loud. it’s not supposed to matter.

you close your eyes, steadying yourself, and try again. “i don’t even know what this is supposed to be like.”

you curl tighter around yourself, pressing your forehead to your knees.

“it’s something you give,” you whisper. “something you endure. not… something you want.”

the words taste like old iron. like reciting someone else’s prayer. they don’t belong to you—not really—but you don’t have anything else.

“i don’t think i’d even know how to want.”

silence settles again. the breeze moves through the trees, the sound of his breathing stays steady.

then, light as a feather, his hand brushes against yours. a tether, if you want it.

“do you want to know?” he asks.

the question is so soft it almost doesn’t hurt. almost.

and he’s watching you like absolutely nothing depends on your answer.

you hesitate. fear still claws at your throat, whispering that you’ll get it wrong, that you’ll ruin whatever this fragile thing between you is becoming.

you don’t know how to say yes.

you don’t know if you’re allowed to say yes.

but the thought of saying no feels worse. like slamming a door you barely had the courage to crack open.

so you nod, small and uncertain, while your voice catches up. and then, quietly: “i think so.”

his face softens immediately, so much that you have to look away because there’s warmth rushing up to your cheeks at the sight.

you reach for him slowly, your fingers curling lightly around his—just enough to ask him to stay.

“i can show you,” he says carefully. “if you let me. if you want to.”

your throat tightens. “what does that mean?” you ask. “to learn. with you.”

you hate how stupid the question sounds, but it’s the only one you can ask.

he swipes his thumb over your knuckles and nods like he understands.

“just that we’ll figure it out together,” he says. “and that you don’t have to know anything. and you’re allowed to change your mind.”

that doesn’t sound like learning. not the way you were taught.

learning, for you, meant silence. it meant getting it right the first time, or not at all. it meant eyes on you, waiting to catch your mistakes. correction before praise, and obedience before comfort.

“what if i don’t know what to do?” you ask. “or i get it wrong?”

his mouth curves. not into a smirk—something more exposed. something a little sad.

“then you say so,” he says. “and we pause. and we try again later. or differently, or not at all.”

he lets that settle before adding, quieter, “you can ask me anything you want. no more guessing.”

you’re staring at him. the edges of you feel frayed—like you’re unraveling in slow motion.

“and you won’t…” you trail off, unsure how to finish.

he finishes the thought for you anyway. “i won’t be disappointed. i won’t be mad, i won’t push.”

“but if i get it wrong—” you start, but your throat closes. he squeezes your hand, steady and light.

“you can’t get it wrong,” he says. “there’s nothing to get right.”

you don’t understand that.

not really. learning has always been rigid. merciless and swift. you were supposed to answer before the question was even asked. to be flawless—or you were failing.

this feels… alien.

and maybe that’s the point.

“you’re allowed to stop and think.” satoru says. his voice threads even softer now. “you’re allowed to feel good, and to not know what you want.”

your chest aches.

he says it so simply. like it’s always been true. like it’s never been something you had to earn.

“you just have to work with me, angel. if that’s something you want.”

your breath wavers, but you squeeze his hand back. a small, scared movement.

and he smiles—so bright and careful it makes your ribs hurt.

“what if i’m bad at it?” you whisper.

his smile tips. “then we’ll be bad at it together.”

a small sound slips out of you. a puff of laughter, maybe, except it trembles too close to tears. you press your face to your knee, hiding the way your mouth wobbles.

“what if…” you trail off, biting the inside of your lip. “what if i don’t like it?”

shame rises hard again, thick and familiar, trying to choke the words down before they can be heard.

“we stop,” he says without missing a beat.

“you tell me,” he adds. “every time. if you like something, if you don’t. if you’re scared. if you want to stop.”

his thumb draws slow lines over your hand, like he’s trying to teach your body the rhythm of safety. like he’s building a language between you with nothing but patience and touch.

you exhale shakily. the tightness in your chest loosens by a fraction. for the first time in your life, maybe, you think you could learn to want something just because it’s yours to want.

he pulls you back into his chest and you stay that way for a while. the night buzzes around you, easy now, and satoru can feel the shift. the ache hasn’t gone away, but it’s muted by something new.

you move first. slowly, carefully, like standing might undo whatever’s been holding the two of you together out here.

he watches you stretch your arms overhead with a quiet sigh, and he wants to reach for you again.

“tired?” he asks.

you shake your head. “not really.”

he smiles at that. it makes sense. the night’s still thick with everything said, everything unsaid—everything that’s barely beginning. of course you’re not sleepy.

“me neither,” he says.

you don’t say anything else as you turn and walk inside. he gives it a second, then two, then follows casually, like he was headed that way anyway.

you’re already leaning against the counter when he steps into the kitchen—bathed in low light, a little flushed from the evening, one hand digging through a tin of cookies.

this is what he wanted, he thinks. not just the conversation, but this. you. here, in his space. barefoot and hunting for snacks like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“not gonna share?” he asks, voice low and mock-serious.

you blink up at him like you’re surprised to see him there.

“…do you want a cookie?”

he tilts his head, smiling. “i want that cookie.”

you glance down at the one in your hand and hesitate, not sure if he’s teasing. then you take a small, defiant bite, eyes flicking back up like a challenge you don’t entirely mean.

satoru laughs. airy, delighted. his tongue pokes the inside of his cheek.

it’s so easy to fall into this with you. easier that it should be, probably.

he pushes off the doorway and steps closer before he really decides to. he moves in close, then closer, until he’s right in front of you, one hand bracing against the counter next to your hip.

you tilt your head, trying to read him. figuring out whether this is still part of the game. your hand tightens slightly on the tin.

but you don’t pull away from him, and you don’t drop your gaze.

he leans in, smiling but grounded underneath. “what if i said please?”

you look up at him—really look—and something flickers across your face that he almost misses. softer than fear, more open than hesitation. something want-shaped.

and it hits him all at once: you’re here because you want to be, letting him be this close to you because you want him there.

his heart stumbles. he wants to kiss you. wants to press a hand to your waist and not let go.

he doesn’t. he exhales instead. slow and careful, with the kind of control that costs something. then—just to make you smile—

“what about pretty please?”

your eyes flick up to his, startled. but the smile he was looking for is tugging at your mouth—small and shy and impossible to miss. it makes his stomach turn over.

you hold the cookie out to him, tentative, like he might be joking.

he doesn’t take it from you.

instead, he dips his head slightly and brings his mouth to it. he takes a bite—slow and clean. his eyes stay on you, lips brushing your fingers on the way up.

your breath catches. your hand stays frozen in the air, like you’ve forgotten how to lower it.

he straightens like nothing happened. chews, swallows, flashes you that easy grin.

“good cookie,” he says. “thanks for sharing.”

you’re still staring at him.

and now—now he sees it clearly. not fear, not confusion. desire. new, tender, barely formed. but there.

his chest feels too tight for how casual he’s trying to be.

you lower your hand at last, blinking down at the tin in your other arm. he watches you go quiet, watches something shift behind your eyes—like you’re sorting yourself out in real time.

you’re cute. so fucking cute.

you set the tin on the counter—a little clumsy, like you don’t know what to do with your hands anymore.

he reaches over and closes the lid for you. “you picked the best kind,” he says as he steps away slightly.

“they were on top,” you mumble.

he smiles. you’re flustered.

he turns toward the cabinet, tucking the tin back into place.

you stay where you are, watching him move, watching him wipe his thumb on a napkin like nothing about any of this feels unusual.

then—

“how do you know when you want something?”

you sound curious. like you’re asking why clouds float. or how ovens work.

he freezes. his brain short-circuits before the question can settle.

because he knew it.

he saw it on your face. it in the way you didn’t flinch when he leaned in. and now his stomach is doing something stupid and warm and helpless.

he leans against the counter opposite you. “what kind of something?” he asks, casual. letting you decide how far to take it.

you glance at him, fidgeting with the hem of your sleeve.

“…just in general,” you say. like that makes it less obvious.

he huffs a laugh. god. you’re killing him.

he lets the silence stretch for a beat longer than he needs to. not to make you squirm (well, maybe a little), but mostly to buy himself time. to get his brain to restart.

“hm,” he says at last, tilting his head like he’s giving it real academic consideration. “usually i get really annoying about it.”

you blink at him. “that’s… how you know?”

“yeah,” he nods, like it’s obvious. “if i start talking too much or showing off or following someone around the house for cookies, it’s probably a sign.”

you stare at him. he grins.

“…so like now,” you say slowly.

“exactly like now,” he says, shameless.

you make a sound between a scoff and a laugh, eyes dropping back to the floor. but you’re smiling, and it lights something up in him.

he watches you for a moment longer before shifting. his voice dips slightly, still playful but with something quieter underneath it now.

“sometimes it just… sneaks up on you.”

you look at him again.

“you don’t always know what it is at first,” he says, more careful now. “but it feels a little like gravity. like you’re being pulled toward something.”

he softens. “and even if you don’t know what you’ll do when you get there… you still want to move.”

he meets your gaze and shrugs—casual again, like his heart’s not sitting all the way up in his throat.

“or, you know,” he adds a beat later, “sometimes it’s just about cookies.”

you smile, small and shy, still looking down. “it does feel like that. the gravity thing.”

“yeah?” he breathes.

you nod. “i think… i didn’t know what it was. but now i sort of do.”

his stomach does a backflip. fuck.

he stays quiet, leaning a little farther back into the counter like he needs it to hold him steady.

“is that dumb?” you ask.

he shakes his head immediately. “not at all.”

he lets out a breath—slow and careful—like if he exhales too fast, he’ll say something stupid. something like you’re all i want. something like stay with me.

the silence that follows is tender in a way he’s not quite sure how to hold.

he could stay in it forever. you and him in this warm, sleepy kitchen where you’re looking at him like he didn’t ruin anything, like he might even be something you want.

but you yawn—small and unguarded—and blink a little slower than before, like the weight of the day is finally catching up to you.

his smile tugs sideways. “that gravity thing wearing you out?”

you huff a quiet laugh, rubbing your eye with the back of your hand. “a little.”

he chuckles under his breath. he can’t help it. you’re so fucking adorable like this—sleepy-eyed, mumbling, rubbing at your face like it’s been the longest day.

and it has. he knows that. it’s been everything packed into twenty-four hours.

he offers you his hand. “come.”

your gaze flicks up, surprised by the offer, but you don’t hesitate. your fingers slip into his, grip easy and trusting.

satoru feels it all the way down to his toes.

he walks a little slower than usual. not because you’re following, but because he’s not really ready for this part to end.

you reach your door too soon. both of you stop, him turning to face you, and you don’t let go of his hand. you look up at him, eyes soft and a little unfocused.

he wants to say something. he should say something.

you beat him to it.

“…can i kiss you goodnight?” you ask, sweet and tiny, like you don’t know if the words will come out right.

he thinks his heart stops. fuck yes.

he’s not sure what he was expecting—maybe nothing. maybe just your hand slipping away, a quiet goodnight and the dull click of the door.

but not this. not you asking. not so gently.

“yeah,” he says. “please.”

you rise on your toes and press a kiss to his mouth. light and short. almost playful. almost like you’re teasing something.

he blinks when you pull back. “that it?” he teases, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

you look at him, blinking once, then smile—slow and sleepy and a little coy.

god, he’s done for.

he steps in closer. his hands rise to either side of your face, light and steady.

“let me,” he murmurs.

you tilt your head up. he leans in again, and this time, the kiss lingers.

your hand curls into his shirt without thinking as your lips part for him, warm and unsure. he meets you like he’s been waiting all night. it’s exactly how he told you—like gravity—slow and inevitable.

it lasts longer than either of you expected. long enough for your breath to stutter out against his mouth in a quiet, helpless exhale.

and he smiles into it. barely, just enough for you to feel it.

when you part, it’s reluctant. your lips hover close, neither of you really wanting to let go.

your eyes flutter open, dazed and a little dreamy.

“goodnight, satoru,” you whisper.

“night, angel.”

you turn the handle and disappear into your room.

he stays there in the hallway a while, smiling to himself like an idiot.

[flux1563]

A Regret ft. Yujin, Karina, Wonyoung

Words : 13k

"You know what I've been craving lately?" Karina mused, her eyes glinting mischievously at her friends Yujin and Wonyoung. They were lounging in their shared apartment, the walls adorned with posters of their favorite rock bands and the faint smell of incense lingering in the air.

"What's that?" Yujin asked, her curiosity piqued as she glanced up from her phone.

"To lick the sweat off a hot, muscular guy's body," Karina said, her voice dripping with desire.

Wonyoung chuckled, setting down her magazine. "Only you would say something like that out of the blue."

"But seriously," Karina leaned in, her voice a sultry whisper, "Wouldn't that be amazing? The saltiness, the warmth... it's like a forbidden dessert."

Yujin's cheeks flushed a shade darker as she considered the idea. "I've never thought about it that way before."

"Well, I have," Wonyoung confessed, a sly smile playing on her lips. "And I've always wanted to try it."

The three friends looked at each other, their thoughts racing. They had always shared a unique bond, their friendship unshakeable despite their wildly different personalities. Karina was the fearless leader, always eager to explore new boundaries, while Yujin was the more cautious one, preferring to think things through. Wonyoung, the youngest, often found herself caught in the middle, but her adventurous spirit made her a perfect fit for their trio.

"What if we made a pact?" Karina suggested, her eyes lighting up. "We'll travel to America, find the sweatiest, most muscular guys, and live out our fantasies."

The room grew quiet as they contemplated the idea. It was daring, it was risky, but it was also incredibly tempting. They had all heard the rumors about the men in America, particularly the ones who frequented gyms. The thought of their desires becoming reality was intoxicating.

"But guys in gyms are usually... well, not exactly our type," Yujin pointed out, breaking the spell.

"That's where the challenge comes in," Karina said with a wink. "We're not looking for just any guys. We want the ones with the biggest... assets."

Wonyoung's eyes widened. "You mean...?"

"Yes," Karina nodded, her voice growing more excited, "Big, black cocks. We're going to find them and make them ours."

The room was electrified with anticipation. They had always shared their kinks and desires with each other, but this was a step beyond anything they had ever dared to dream.

"But where would we even start?" Wonyoung asked, her voice a mix of excitement and apprehension.

Karina had it all figured out. "We'll start at the gym. It's the perfect place to find guys who are both fit and sweaty. And who knows, we might even get to fulfill our other little fantasy."

Yujin bit her bottom lip, her pulse quickening at the thought. "Double penetration?"

Karina nodded. "Yeah, baby. And not just by any guys. By the biggest, blackest, and sweatiest ones we can find."

Their conversation grew heated, and the three friends knew that there was no turning back. They had set their sights on a wild adventure, and they were going to see it through. Little did they know that their journey would lead them to a fateful encounter with six men named Marcus, Tyronne, Darius, Omari, Amon, and Zubari. These men would change their lives forever, fulfilling desires they had never dared to speak aloud.

The three friends decided to make their fantasy a reality. They packed their bags, booked their flights, and set off to conquer America, one gym at a time. As they stepped into the bustling New York City, their hearts raced with excitement and nerves. The Big Apple was their playground, and they were ready to indulge in the sweetest fruit it had to offer.

Their first evening in the apartment was filled with anticipation. Karina, ever the planner, had found a place that was close to a gym that was known for its diverse and fit clientele. The apartment itself was modern and minimalist, with a single, large bed that they would share for the duration of their stay. It was a small sacrifice for the thrill that awaited them tomorrow.

"Let's go rest up," Karina suggested after they had settled in. "Tomorrow is going to be a big day."

Yujin and Wonyoung nodded in agreement.

The following morning, the sun began to rise, casting a warm glow through the apartment's windows. The trio woke up with a sense of excitement that was palpable in the air. They each picked out their most revealing gym outfits, showcasing their toned bodies and ample curves. Karina went with a neon pink sports bra and tiny shorts that accentuated her voluptuous figure, while Yujin chose a pair of tight black yoga pants and a crop top that highlighted her slender waist. Wonyoung, not to be outdone, wore a skimpy red ensemble that left little to the imagination. They were dressed to impress, each outfit designed to catch the eye of the men they so desired.

As they got ready, they giggled nervously, applying just the right amount of makeup to look both natural and seductive. The scent of their perfumes mingled with the faint aroma of coffee, creating an atmosphere of anticipation. They were about to embark on an adventure that would push their boundaries and fulfill their wildest fantasies.

Finally, dressed and ready, they made their way to the gym. The streets of New York were already bustling with life, but the gym was their destination. Their hearts raced as they stepped through the doors, the thumping bass of the workout music echoing in their ears. They scanned the room, eyes darting from one sweaty, muscular body to the next.

The gym was a veritable buffet of fitness enthusiasts, but it was the six black men that had caught their eye the day before that truly stood out. Marcus, Tyronne, Darius, Omari, Amon, and Zubari were all present, their dark skin glistening with sweat as they pushed their bodies to the limit. The sight of them made the three friends' knees wobble slightly, their stomachs fluttering with a mix of excitement and nerves.

They approached the water fountain, each taking a deep breath before they started their workout. As they hydrated, they couldn't help but feel the heat of the men's gazes on them. They knew they had the power to make their desires come true, and they were going to use it.

The gym was a dance of muscles and sweat, with each machine and weight station filled with grunts and the clank of metal. The women began their workout, subtly positioning themselves near the men they had their sights set on. The tension grew as they stretched and bent, their eyes meeting and holding, the promise of something more hanging in the air.

Marcus, the tallest and most muscular of the group, noticed them first. His eyes locked onto Karina as she bent over to tie her shoe, her ass sticking out in a way that was both innocent and tantalizing. He licked his lips, his eyes filled with a hunger that was unmistakable. The other men followed his gaze, and soon all six were watching the three friends with open interest.

The women continued their workout, their movements growing more sensual with each passing minute. They knew they had the men's attention and they reveled in it, their confidence soaring. The air in the gym grew thick with desire, and it was clear that the game had begun.

Marcus, unable to resist the allure of Karina's voluptuous figure, sauntered over to her, a towel slung low over his hips. His muscles bulged beneath his tight tank top, and his deep-set eyes bore into her as he spoke. "Can we join you?" he asked, his voice a smooth rumble that seemed to vibrate through her very core.

Karina looked up, her heart racing. "Sure," she breathed, her voice a seductive purr. "I'm Zubari," he said with a smile, his teeth gleaming. "And this is my friend Marcus."

While Tyronne and Darius came close to Yujin, they couldn't help but be drawn to her sleek, black hair and piercing gaze. Yujin felt a shiver run down her spine as their muscular forms approached. She had never been so close to such power and masculinity before. Her legs trembled slightly as Tyronne offered her a hand to help her up from the floor, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through her.

"Hey, I'm Tyronne," he said with a grin, his teeth shimmering against his dark skin. He was tall with broad shoulders, his abs rippling as he breathed. Darius followed suit, extending his hand as well. "And I'm Darius," he said, his voice a low growl that made her knees feel like jelly. His eyes were a piercing blue, a stark contrast to his chocolate skin.

Wonyoung looked up at the towering figures before her, feeling a thrill of excitement. "I'm Wonyoung," she replied, her voice a little shakier than she intended. "What can I do for you two?"

"Oh, you're gonna do more than enough," Omari said, his grin widening as he took in her skimpy outfit. His eyes roved over her body, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. He was broad-shouldered and muscular, with a beard that was trimmed to perfection. "I'm Omari," he introduced himself, placing a hand on her shoulder. "And this is my friend, Amon."

Amon, equally as tall and muscular, stepped forward, his eyes gleaming with interest. He had a shaved head and a tattoo that snaked down his neck and disappeared beneath his shirt. "We couldn't help but notice you three," he said, his voice deep and gruff. "You seem like you know how to handle yourselves around some real men."

Wonyoung felt a blush spread across her cheeks as she took in their impressive forms. "We like to think we can handle ourselves," she said, a coy smile playing on her lips.

"Well, let's see," Omari challenged, guiding her over to the hip abductor machine. He positioned her in front of the contraption, her legs spread apart and her ass sticking out just enough to be provocative. "Ever tried this before?"

Wonyoung's eyes widened, but she nodded eagerly. The thought of having two such powerful men train her was thrilling beyond belief. Amon took up position behind her, his bulging biceps flexing as he adjusted the weight. She felt his hot breath on the back of her neck as he leaned in close, whispering instructions in her ear.

Her heart raced as she began to lift the weight, the sensation of her muscles stretching and contracting almost as tantalizing as the feel of Amon's hands on her hips, guiding her movements. The fabric of her shorts grew wetter with each rep, the outline of her arousal becoming more and more prominent.

Marcus and Zubari led Karina to the bench press, the metal gleaming under the fluorescent lights. She positioned herself on the bench, her legs spread open to accommodate the wide stance required for the exercise. The fabric of her shorts grew damp as her pussy grew wetter with each passing second. Marcus took the weight from her, placing it gently on the rack before taking a spot beside her. "Let me show you how it's done," he said, his voice a low murmur that sent shivers down her spine.

He laid down, his muscles bulging as he pushed the barbell upwards, his eyes never leaving hers. Karina could feel the heat emanating from his body, and she knew that he was just as turned on as she was. Zubari stood behind the bench, spotting Marcus, his own eyes glued to the apex of her thighs. Her breath grew ragged as she watched the two men, their power and strength an aphrodisiac that she couldn't resist.

As Marcus completed his final rep, he sat up, his chest heaving with exertion. He took a sip of water, his eyes never leaving hers as he wiped his brow with the back of his hand. "Your turn," he said, his voice thick with desire. Karina's legs trembled as she laid down on the bench, the cold metal pressing against her hot skin. She knew that she was on display, that the other men in the gym could see her wetness, and she reveled in it.

Marcus took his place at the end of the bench, his thigh brushing against hers. Zubari took the barbell from her, placing it on her chest with surprising gentleness. "Remember to breathe," he said, his voice a soothing balm to her racing thoughts.

With a deep breath, she pushed the weight up, her muscles straining with the effort.

Darius and Tyronne watched as Yujin approached the chest fly machine, her tight black yoga pants stretching over her curvy ass as she walked. They exchanged knowing glances, both aware of the effect they had on the Asian beauty.

"You've got a good form," Darius said, his voice a low rumble as he stepped closer to her, his hand brushing against her hip. "But I think you could use a little help."

Yujin's pulse quickened as she felt the heat of his body beside her. She nodded, trying to keep her cool as Tyronne took the opposite side of the machine, his muscular arm reaching over her to grab the handle. Together, they guided her through the motion, their bodies so close she could feel the heat of their skin.

As she pushed the weight away from her body, she could feel the fabric of her pants stretching against her growing arousal. The smell of sweat and cologne was intoxicating, and she had to bite back a moan.

The two men made a show of adjusting the weight for her, their hands lingering on the bars, their eyes never leaving her chest as it bounced with each rep. They whispered instructions, their breath hot against her ear, their fingers brushing against her skin as if by accident.

The tension grew with each passing moment, the air around them thick with desire. Yujin knew she was playing with fire, but she couldn't help herself. She was so close to the men she had fantasized about for so long, and she wanted to feel their touch, to taste their sweat.

Her breath grew ragged, her body responding to the intimate dance of muscles and power. She could feel the heat of their gazes on her, and it only served to fuel her passion.

Marcus leaned in closer, whispering in her ear, "You're doing great, baby," as his hand slid down to grip her hip firmly. His thumb brushed against her skin, sending a jolt of pleasure through her body. Karina's cheeks flushed, and she bit her lip, trying to focus on her reps as the pressure of his grip grew more insistent.

On the other side of the gym, Tyronne and Darius had moved on to helping Yujin with her leg press. They positioned themselves at the base of the machine, each taking one of her legs and placing it on the platform. As she began to push the weight, their hands slid up her thighs, their grips tightening around her hips.

Their touch was electric, sending waves of desire through her body. Yujin's eyes fluttered closed as she felt them tease her, their fingers digging into her flesh just enough to leave marks. She knew she was their plaything, and the thrill of it all made her pussy throb.

The men's laughter filled the room as they watched the women struggle under their watchful eyes, their grips on their hips growing firmer with every passing second. The sound of metal clanking and the scent of sweat grew more intense as the tension mounted.

Wonyoung's heart raced as Omari and Amon pushed her limits on the hip abductor, their hands on her hips, guiding her movements. They leaned in closer, their breath hot against her neck, whispering words of encouragement that had her pussy begging for more. The fabric of her shorts was soaked through, and she knew that everyone in the gym could see her arousal.

As the women pushed themselves further into their workout, the men's grips grew more possessive. They whispered sweet nothings into their ears, their breath hot and ragged. The girls couldn't help but let out soft moans, their bodies responding to the power dynamics at play.

Suddenly, Darius's deep voice echoed through the gym. "Alright, ladies, it's time for a new kind of workout," he said with a smirk, his eyes gleaming with a wicked intent. "Let's go to the locker room, we'll teach you the next routine."

The other men chuckled in agreement, their eyes never leaving the three friends. The air was thick with desire and the promise of something more. The gym-goers around them had noticed the intense scene playing out, and whispers began to spread.

Karina, Yujin, and Wonyoung exchanged glances, their hearts racing with excitement. This was it, the moment they had been waiting for. They nodded in unison, their bodies trembling with anticipation. The six men led them through the gym, the eyes of everyone in the room following their every move.

As they approached the locker room, Marcus couldn't resist the temptation anymore. He reached out and squeezed Karina's ass, his fingers digging into her flesh. She gasped, her body reacting instinctively, arching into his touch. The sound of his hand connecting with her skin echoed through the room, and the other men followed suit, their hands roaming over the three women's bodies.

Yujin felt the hot, firm grip of Darius on her ass as he guided her through the door. She bit her lip to stifle a moan, the pressure from his hand sending waves of pleasure through her. Tyronne was right behind her, his hands caressing her curves as they walked. The feel of their hands on her made her legs weak, but she managed to stay upright, her body buzzing with desire.

Wonyoung's eyes rolled back in her head as Omari and Amon took turns squeezing her ass, their fingers brushing against the fabric of her shorts. The sensation was overwhelming, and she stumbled slightly, only to be caught by their strong arms. They chuckled, their grips tightening, as if they were claiming her as their own.

When they finally entered the locker room, the men didn't waste any time. With a swift motion, Marcus tore the fabric of Karina's pink sports bra, exposing her heavy breasts to the cool air. The sound of ripping fabric echoed through the room, and the other girls gasped in shock.

Yujin felt Tyronne's hands on her yoga pants, his thumbs hooking into the waistband as he began to pull them down. She looked over her shoulder, her eyes meeting his, and she saw the hunger in his gaze. He was going to take her, and she was going to let him. The fabric gave way easily, and her pants slid down to her ankles, revealing her bare pussy.

Wonyoung watched in amazement as the men's expressions grew more intense. They had expected some resistance, some shyness, but these girls were ready, willing, and completely bare. The sight was almost too much for them to handle.

"Wow, these girls are sluts," Amon exclaimed, his eyes wide with lust as he took in the scene. "They're not even wearing panties."

The locker room erupted into laughter, a mix of shock and excitement. The tension was palpable, the air thick with the scent of sweat and desire. The men couldn't believe their luck, and the women basked in the attention.

"Now, all of you get to your knees," one of the men said, his voice commanding and authoritative. The three friends obeyed without hesitation, dropping down to the cold, tiled floor.

The six men had shed their gym clothes, standing before them in all their naked glory. The sight was overwhelming: each one more muscular and more intimidating than the last. Their cocks stood erect, varying in size and girth, but all of them were substantial. The girls looked at each other, their eyes wide with excitement and a hint of trepidation.

Marcus and Zubari stood before Karina, their chests heaving with excitement. Marcus's cock was the largest she had ever seen, thick and veiny, the tip glistening with pre-cum. Zubari's was slightly smaller, but no less impressive, curving slightly upwards as if begging for attention.

Yujin couldn't tear her eyes away from Tyronne and Darius. Tyronne's cock was long and lean, bobbing slightly as he stepped closer. Darius's was thick and powerful, the head a dark shade of purple, promising a night of unbridled passion.

Wonyoung's knees grew even weaker as she took in Omari and Amon. Omari's cock was thick and heavy, the kind that would fill her to the brim, while Amon's was long and smooth, the perfect length to hit all the right spots.

Karina licked her lips, her eyes locked on Marcus and Zubari's cocks. "Our fantasy," she began, her voice a seductive whisper, "is to lick every inch of your sweaty bodies. We want to taste your power, your strength, and your passion."

The men's eyes grew dark with lust, their cocks twitching in response to her words. Yujin added, "And we want to be filled by the biggest black cocks we can find. Double penetration is the ultimate prize."

Wonyoung nodded in agreement, her voice shaky with anticipation. "We've never been with guys like you before," she confessed. "But we've dreamed of it. We want to be taken, to be used, to feel what it's like to have no control."

The men's grips on their hips tightened, and they shared a knowing look. This was more than they could have hoped for. They had stumbled upon a trio of eager, submissive women who were begging to be claimed.

With a nod from Marcus, Karina leaned in, her tongue darting out to taste the salty tang of sweat on his inner thigh. She traced the path of his muscles, moving closer and closer to his ass. The room grew silent as the sound of her tongue slurping against his skin filled the air. She took her time, savoring every inch of him, her eyes closed in ecstasy.

Her hands followed her tongue, cupping his firm cheeks before moving to his tight asshole. She licked around the edges, her tongue delving into his crack as he let out a low groan. His cock grew harder beneath her, the precum pooling at the tip.

Zubari watched, his own cock twitching with anticipation. He knew that he was next, and the thought made him lightheaded. He stepped closer, his hand guiding Karina's face to his own body, urging her to taste him. She didn't need much encouragement, eagerly lapping at his sweat-slicked skin.

Her tongue slid over his muscled ass, tracing the contours of his cheeks before she moved to his asshole. She licked it, her tongue probing gently, the taste of him making her pussy throb. The sound of her moan was muffled by the flesh she was worshipping.

Marcus's hand reached down to stroke her hair, his cock bobbing in front of her face. She looked up at him, her eyes glazed with desire, and took his length into her mouth, sucking and licking him with an enthusiasm that had him grunting with pleasure.

Meanwhile, Yujin had Darius's cock in her hand, her slender fingers barely able to wrap around his girth. She licked a path from his ass to his balls, her tongue swirling around each one before moving to the base of his cock. Tyronne stepped closer, his cock brushing against her cheek, and she eagerly opened her mouth to take him in as well, her cheeks hollowing as she sucked him off.

Wonyoung couldn't help but copy Karina's movements, her eyes on fire as she licked her way down Omari's muscular body. Amon's cock was next, and she took him in her mouth, her cheeks bulging as she tried to accommodate his size. She could feel his hands in her hair, guiding her movements, his hips bucking slightly as she worked her magic.

The men watched, their cocks swelling as the three friends took turns pleasuring them. The locker room was filled with the sounds of wet, sloppy kisses and guttural moans, the sight of the women on their knees, eager to serve, was more than they could have ever asked for.

The tension grew as the men grew closer to climax. Karina's eyes watered as she deep-throated Zubari, her throat muscles working overtime as she tried to take all of him. Marcus's hand tightened in her hair, his hips rocking back and forth as he fucked her mouth.

Yujin's jaw grew sore as she switched between Tyronne and Darius, her tongue dancing around their swollen heads. Darius's fingers tightened around her ponytail, pulling her closer as he neared his peak.

Wonyoung's eyes rolled back in her head as she tasted the precum from Amon's cock, her pussy begging for the same attention she was giving the men. Omari's hand slid down to cup her face, his thumb tracing her plump bottom lip as she worked on his cock.

"You're all so good at this," he murmured, his voice thick with lust.

The girls took the compliment as a challenge, redoubling their efforts. They knew what was coming and were eager to be the ones to push the men over the edge. Yujin could feel Tyronne's cock pulsing in her mouth, and she knew he was close.

Karina felt a sudden warmth on her face as Marcus and Zubari both erupted with a roar. Their cum shot out, painting her face in thick ropes, the sticky fluid dripping down her chin and onto her chest. She didn't flinch, instead leaning into it, letting it cover her as a badge of honor. Yujin and Wonyoung watched, their own mouths watering at the sight.

Yujin took Darius's cock out of her mouth and turned to Tyronne, her cheeks already flushed from his earlier attentions. She looked up at him, her eyes pleading, and with a smirk, he stepped closer. His cock twitched in her hand as she stroked him, her other hand playing with the tip of Darius's still-hard shaft.

With a grunt, Tyronne came, his cum spurting across her face, mixing with Darius's as it painted her features. Yujin's eyes widened with shock and pleasure as she felt the hot jets hit her nose, her cheeks, her eyes. She blinked rapidly, trying to clear her vision, her heart racing with excitement.

Wonyoung watched as Karina and Yujin were showered with cum, her own pussy dripping with need. She had never felt so alive, so wanted, so consumed by desire. Omari and Amon's eyes bore into hers, their cocks rock-hard and demanding. She knew it was her turn.

The men stepped back, watching as the three friends knelt before them, their faces a canvas of their desire. Omari stepped closer, his cock in his hand, stroking it slowly as he admired Wonyoung's eager expression. She leaned in, her tongue darting out to lick the precum from the tip, her eyes never leaving his.

With a growl, Omari came, his cum spurting across her face, a warm, sticky mess that she greedily licked away. Amon was next, his cock pulsing in her hand as he painted her features with his seed. Wonyoung reveled in the feeling of being used, the power dynamic making her wetter and wetter.

As the men caught their breath, the girls turned to each other, their faces a mess of cum. Without a word, they leaned in, their tongues reaching out to clean the sticky residue from each other's skin. They tasted the salty, musky flavor of the men's release, the intimate act driving their arousal to new heights.

Karina looked up at Yujin, her eyes glazed with lust. She reached out and wiped a trail of cum from Yujin's cheek, bringing her fingers to her own mouth to lick them clean. Yujin watched, her breath hitching, before leaning in to kiss her friend, sharing the taste of their conquests. Wonyoung moaned, feeling left out, and they both turned to her, their tongues swirling together, sharing the cum that had been spilled.

The men watched, their cocks already starting to harden again. The sight of the three friends so eagerly devouring each other was more than they could take. "Let's take this to the next level," Marcus suggested, his eyes dark with hunger. The girls looked up at him, their lips swollen and shiny with cum, nodding eagerly.

Without hesitation, they dropped to their knees and began to lick the men's feet. The feeling of their tongues on his skin was like nothing Marcus had ever experienced before. He could feel the hunger in their movements, the desperation in every flick of their tongues. His cock grew harder as he watched them worship him and his friends.

Yujin took her time with Tyronne's foot, her tongue tracing the arch before moving to his toes. She could feel him shivering with pleasure, his cock jutting out towards her. She took each toe into her mouth, sucking gently, savoring the taste of his sweat and the power she had over him. Darius watched, his hand stroking his own cock as he felt the beginnings of his own climax build again.

Wonyoung licked her way up Omari's leg, her eyes never leaving his as she approached his cock. She took his foot in her hand, her thumb circling the sole before moving up to his toes. He groaned, the sensation driving him wild. "More," he murmured, his hips jerking forward slightly. She didn't need any further encouragement, her mouth closing around the tip of his foot.

Her teeth grazed the sensitive skin between his toes before she moved on to the next one, her eyes locked with Amon's. He watched her every move, his cock growing harder by the second. The smell of their sweat was intoxicating, a potent mix of pheromones and power that had the girls drooling.

Their mouths moved upwards, latching onto the men's sweaty armpits. They took deep breaths, inhaling the scent of their musk, the taste of their manhood. Karina moaned as she took in the scent of Marcus, her tongue swirling in circles, cleaning him of any trace of sweat.

"It's like nothing I've ever smelled before," Wonyoung said, her voice muffled by Omari's arm. "It's like... it's like the essence of a real man."

The men's chests rose and fell with excitement, their bodies trembling slightly as the girls worshiped them. The gym had become their personal playground, their desires laid bare for the world to see.

Yujin looked up at Darius, her eyes glazed with lust as she licked his armpit. "You taste so good," she whispered, her voice breathy. "I want more."

With a smirk, Darius leaned down, bringing his cock closer to her face. She took it in her hand, her eyes never leaving his as she took him into her mouth, her tongue flicking at his balls.

The locker room was filled with the sounds of wet licks and sighs of pleasure. The men's cocks grew harder with every touch, their bodies responding to the women's eager attentions. They had never felt so desired, so needed.

The tension grew as the girls continued their sensual exploration. They licked and sucked, their tongues tracing the paths of their muscles, tasting the salt of their sweat. The men's hands roamed, caressing their breasts, pinching their nipples, their touch setting the girls' skin alight.

"It's our time to give pleasure to yours," Marcus rumbled, his voice deep with desire. The six men stepped closer, their cocks standing at attention, eager to return the favor.

Karina, Yujin, and Wonyoung looked at each other, their eyes sparkling with excitement. They had come so far, their fantasy coming to life before their eyes. They lay back on the locker room benches, spreading their legs, offering themselves up to the men.

Marcus knelt before Karina, his tongue sliding along her inner thigh, moving closer and closer to her wet pussy. She gasped as he reached her clit, the sensation making her body arch off the bench. "So sweet," he murmured, his breath hot against her skin.

Yujin felt Tyronne's mouth on her neck, his teeth grazing her collarbone as his hand slid down to cup her breast. Darius took her nipple into his mouth, sucking gently at first, then more firmly as she whimpered.

Wonyoung looked up to see Omari leaning over her, his dark eyes filled with lust as he took in the sight of her swollen pussy. He leaned in, his breath hot against her skin before his tongue touched her clit. She let out a sharp cry, her body trembling with pleasure.

The girls' moans grew louder as the men worked their magic, their tongues and teeth exploring every inch of their bodies. The sensation of being licked and sucked by such powerful men was overwhelming, their every nerve ending alive with sensation.

They were lost in a haze of pleasure, their bodies writhing under the men's expert touch. The locker room echoed with their cries of ecstasy as the men took their time, savoring every moment.

Karina felt Zubari's hands spread her ass cheeks, his tongue delving into her tight hole. She gripped the bench, her knuckles white as she held on, her body tightening as she approached climax.

Yujin's eyes rolled back in her head as Tyronne and Darius took turns lapping at her clit, their tongues swirling and flicking in perfect harmony. She was close, so close, and she didn't want it to end.

Wonyoung's breath hitched as Amon's tongue slid into her ass, his hands playing with her pussy. She had never felt so full, so complete. Her moans grew more frantic as she felt herself on the brink.

The men didn't stop, their tongues and teeth working in tandem, bringing the girls closer and closer to the edge. They knew exactly what they were doing, and the girls were putty in their hands.

Their cries grew more urgent, their bodies begging for release. The air was thick with the scent of sex, the sound of wet licks and moans bouncing off the tiled walls.

Karina's pussy clenched around Marcus's tongue as he worked her clit, his thumb sliding into her tight asshole. She felt the beginnings of a squirt building deep within her, and she knew it was going to be intense. Her eyes squeezed shut as she tried to hold back, but it was no use. With a loud gasp, she squirted, her juices spraying across the bench and onto Marcus's face. He pulled away, laughing, and she looked down to see his face covered in her cum.

Yujin's body tightened as Tyronne and Darius took turns flicking her clit with their tongues, their fingers delving into her pussy and ass. The sensation was too much, and she lost control, her body spasming as she squirted all over them. They didn't flinch, instead, they eagerly lapped up her juices, sharing them in a passionate kiss.

Wonyoung felt the pressure build as Amon and Omari worked her over, their tongues swirling and probing her most intimate spots. She couldn't hold back any longer, and with a scream, she squirted, her juices coating the floor beneath her. They watched with fascination before leaning in to clean her up, their mouths greedily sucking up her sweet release.

The men were insatiable, and they didn't wait for the girls to catch their breath. "Back on your knees," Marcus growled, his cock still standing proud and gleaming from Karina's eager mouth. The girls obeyed, eager to continue their journey into the depths of their shared fantasy.

The sound of slapping skin filled the locker room as the six men began to slap their cocks against the girls' faces. The impact was surprisingly gentle, but the sensation was intense. Karina felt Zubari's thick cock hit her cheek, leaving a sticky trail of precum behind. She opened her mouth, eager to catch the next slap.

Yujin's eyes watered as Tyronne's and Darius's cocks slapped her face in unison, the smack echoing through the room. She leaned into the sensation, her mouth open, tongue flicking out to taste their salty, musky flavor.

Wonyoung took in the sight of Omari and Amon, their cocks slapping against her cheeks, leaving a sticky mess she was eager to clean up. She stuck her tongue out, catching a drop of precum, and the taste sent a jolt of electricity through her body.

"We want to taste all of you," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the symphony of moans and slaps. "We want to be spit-roasted, filled to the brim with your big, black cocks."

The men's eyes lit up at the mention of their favorite position. Marcus looked over at Tyronne and Darius, who had already moved into place behind Yujin. "Looks like our little sluts are eager to be used," he said with a wicked grin.

"More than you can imagine," Yujin panted, her face flushed and eyes sparkling with lust. She leaned back, her ass in the air, offering herself up to the men. "Take us, please. We're ready."

Marcus and Zubari didn't need any more encouragement. They positioned Karina on the bench, her legs spread wide as they lined up their cocks, both men eager to claim her. Marcus slid into her pussy first, his thick cock stretching her to the brink as he pushed deep. She gasped, her eyes squeezing shut as she felt the fullness of him. Then, without warning, Zubari pushed into her ass, his cock thick and unyielding as he filled her completely.

"Ahh!" Karina's scream echoed through the locker room, the pain and pleasure mixing in a heady cocktail. She had never felt so full before, so stretched, so claimed. Her body tensed as they both began to move, their rhythm matching perfectly as they fucked her.

Yujin watched, her own desire mounting as Tyronne and Darius positioned themselves behind her. Her heart raced as she felt the tip of Tyronne's cock at her pussy, Darius's at her ass. The men didn't hold back, pushing into her simultaneously. The pain was intense, but it only served to heighten the pleasure.

"Ahh, it hurts!" she screamed, her voice raw and desperate. But she didn't want them to stop. No, she wanted more. She pushed back, taking them deeper, her body adjusting to the intrusion. The men groaned, their cocks sinking into her tight holes, the pressure building.

They began to move in tandem, their thrusts long and deep. Yujin's screams grew louder as she was filled and stretched to the limit. The sensation was indescribable, a delicious agony that had her nails digging into the bench, her body writhing in ecstasy.

But the show wasn't just for them. Marcus and Zubari had moved aside to give Omari and Amon their turn with Wonyoung. They took their place behind her, their cocks slick with precum and desire. Wonyoung's eyes widened as she felt the tip of Omari's cock at her pussy, and Amon's at her ass. She braced herself, her heart racing.

With a powerful thrust, Omari filled her pussy, his thickness making her gasp. Amon didn't wait, pushing into her tight asshole, his cock stretching her even further. Wonyoung's scream of "Ahh, it hurts! I can't!" echoed through the locker room, but instead of pulling out, the men took it as a challenge, their strokes growing more forceful.

Her cries grew more desperate as they fucked her, the pain mixing with pleasure until she couldn't tell which was which. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she felt her body start to convulse, the pressure building, building, until she thought she'd explode.

Marcus and Zubari watched her intently, their own pleasure reflected in their eyes. "Her ass is so fucking tight," Marcus groaned, his voice strained with effort. "I've never felt anything like it."

Zubari nodded in agreement, his cock buried to the hilt in Karina's ass. "And that pussy," he added, his voice low and reverent. "It's like a vice grip around my dick."

The other men chuckled, their cocks slapping against the girls' faces as they watched their friends take the Asian beauties. "Look at her," Tyronne murmured, his voice thick with lust. "Look at how much she loves it."

Yujin's face was a mask of pleasure and pain as Tyronne and Darius fucked her, their cocks sliding in and out of her stretched holes. "It's like she was made for this," Darius said, his eyes never leaving the sight of his cock disappearing into her ass.

Wonyoung's moans grew louder as Omari and Amon took her, their powerful strokes pushing her closer and closer to the edge. "Her pussy is so tight," Omari grunted, his teeth clenched. "It's like a second skin around my cock."

Amon's breath was hot in her ear. "And that ass," he groaned. "It's like heaven."

The men's praise only spurred the girls on, their bodies moving in time with their partners'. They were lost in the moment, their every thought focused on the cocks inside them, the sweat and cum that coated their skin.

"Ahh, fuck!" Karina's scream pierced the air, her voice high and keening. "It's like being split in two, but in the best way possible!" She threw her head back, her eyes rolling up into her head. Marcus and Zubari's strokes grew more forceful, their muscles straining with the effort of holding back. "It's like you're tearing me apart," she panted, her voice trembling. "But I don't want it to stop. It's so good, so fucking good!"

Their rhythm grew more erratic, their bodies slapping together with every thrust. Karina's breasts bounced with the force of it, her nipples hard and sensitive. She felt the pressure building, her pussy clenching around Marcus's cock as Zubari hit her G-spot with every push into her ass. "I'm going to cum," she yelled, her voice echoing in the tiled locker room. "Oh my god, I'm going to cum so hard!"

Yujin watched her friend, the sight pushing her own pleasure to new heights. She could feel her own orgasm building, the sensation of being split open by two massive cocks driving her wild. She threw her head back and screamed, her voice joining the cacophony of passion. "It's so good," she panted. "So full, so deep."

Wonyoung's eyes rolled back in her head as Omari and Amon fucked her harder, their cocks moving in perfect sync. "Ahh, fuck me," she begged, her voice a desperate whine. "Fuck me like the sluts we are!"

The men laughed, their strokes growing more powerful as they felt the girls' bodies tighten around them. "It's like they're begging for it," Darius said, his voice filled with a mix of amazement and lust.

Marcus looked down at Karina, her pussy clenching around his cock. "You're getting tight, baby," he said, his voice low and seductive. "You're going to squirt all over us."

Sure enough, Karina's pussy tightened further, her body spasming as she felt the beginnings of her orgasm. "Ahh, I'm gonna... I'm gonna...," she stuttered, unable to form coherent words.

The men watched, their eyes widening as they felt the pressure build around their cocks. "Her pussy's like a vice," Zubari groaned, his grip on her hips tightening. "It's so fucking tight."

Marcus nodded, his breath coming in short gasps. "Yeah, she's going to squirt," he said, his voice filled with excitement.

The tension grew unbearable as the girls' squirts grew stronger. Yujin's body was wracked with spasms as Tyronne and Darius pounded into her, their cocks stretching her to the limit. "Fuck, I'm going to cum," she screamed, her voice breaking. "Make me squirt, please!"

The men didn't need any encouragement. They picked up their pace, their hips smacking against the girls' asses in a frenzied rhythm. Wonyoung felt the pressure in her own pussy and ass building, her body begging for release. "Do it," she panted. "Make us squirt all over you."

The force of their orgasms was explosive. Yujin's pussy clamped down around Tyronne and Darius's cocks, the sudden release of pressure sending them flying out of her. She collapsed forward, her body shaking with the aftershocks of pleasure. "Oh my god," she gasped, her voice hoarse. "That was incredible."

Marcus and Zubari pulled out of Karina with a wet pop, their cocks glistening with her juices. She looked up at them with a sly smile, her chest heaving with each ragged breath. "Your turn," she murmured, her voice still filled with desire.

Wonyoung's pussy and ass clenched around Omari and Amon, and with a final, powerful thrust, they were expelled from her tight holes. She slumped down onto the bench, her legs trembling. The men stepped back, their cocks still hard, their eyes glittering with excitement.

The locker room was a mess, a testament to the intense sexual encounter that had just taken place. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and sex, the sound of heavy breathing and the occasional giggle from the girls as they looked at each other with a mix of satisfaction and amazement.

"Alright, it's done," Karina said with a sigh, her legs still trembling from the exertion. "Our bodies just got what we need."

The girls walked out with trembling legs, and when they reached the door, they were shocked; suddenly, they were stopped by all the men."We're not done yet, I haven't cum." One of the men said.

Karina looked at her friends with a mix of fear and excitement. They had never gone this far before. But the desperate look in the men's eyes made it clear that they weren't going anywhere until they had all had their fill. "Please," she whimpered, "my ass is so sore, I can't take any more."

Yujin and Wonyoung nodded in agreement, their voices filled with a needy plea. "Our pussies are sore too," Yujin managed to say, her voice cracking. "We need a break."

But the men didn't listen. With a grin that was half mischief, half determination, Tyronne grabbed Yujin's hips and flipped her over, pushing her face-first into the bench. "You're not done until we say you are," he murmured, his hand smacking her ass playfully.

Darius chuckled, moving behind her, his cock still rock-hard. "You're going to love this," he said, lining up with her pussy. He didn't wait for a response, sliding in smoothly, his cock hitting her G-spot with ease.

Yujin's scream was muffled by the bench, her body jolting as she was filled once more. Tyronne's cock slammed into her ass, the pain making her eyes water. "Please," she whimpered, "not so deep."

But the men were lost in their lust, their eyes glazed over as they took what they wanted. The sound of their hips slapping against the girls' asses grew louder, the slap of flesh on flesh echoing through the locker room.

Karina felt her own pussy clench around Marcus's cock, the pain and pleasure blurring into one intense sensation. Zubari didn't wait, pushing into her ass, his girth stretching her even further. She screamed, her voice raw and desperate. "It's too much," she sobbed. "I can't take it!"

The men's laughter was low and dark, their hands moving to squeeze the girls' breasts and pinch their nipples. "You're going to take it," Marcus growled. "And you're going to love every second of it."

Their strokes grew more erratic, their bodies moving in a frenzied dance of desire. The girls' moans grew more frantic, their pleas for mercy falling on deaf ears. The men were like animals, driven by instinct and lust, their every thought consumed by the need to cum.

Wonyoung felt the beginnings of another orgasm building, her body already over-sensitized from the previous ones. "I can't," she moaned, her voice high and desperate. "I can't take it anymore."

But Omari and Amon didn't stop, their strokes growing more forceful. "You can," Omari murmured, his breath hot against her ear. "You can and you will."

The girls' bodies began to spasm once again, their juices spraying out as the men fucked them, painting the floor and benches with their desire. They couldn't believe they had another orgasm in them, but the men's relentless pounding brought it out of them, their cries of pleasure mixing with the sounds of the men's grunts and slaps.

Wonyoung looked over her shoulder at Omari and Amon, her eyes glazed with a mix of pain and pleasure. "My holes are getting sore," she panted, her voice barely above a whisper. "They feel like they're going to break."

The men's grins grew wider at her admission, their strokes becoming more powerful as they pushed her closer and closer to the edge. "Don't worry, baby," Amon murmured, his cock sliding in and out of her ass with ease. "We're going to fill you up until you can't take anymore."

Her pussy clenched around Omari's cock as he thrust into her, the sensation of being used so thoroughly sending her over the edge. "Ahh, I'm cumming!" she screamed, her body bucking as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her.

The men didn't stop, their cocks pumping into her until she thought she'd pass out. But she didn't. Instead, she felt another orgasm building, this one more intense than the last. "Fuck, it's too much," she moaned, her body trembling with the effort of taking them both.

Marcus and Zubari watched, their eyes on Karina's tight asshole as it stretched around their cocks. "Look at her," Zubari said with a smirk. "Her ass is going to be sore for days."

"And her pussy," Marcus added, his hips moving in a steady rhythm. "It's never been this good."

The room was a symphony of pleasure and pain, the girls' cries growing more desperate as the men pushed them to their limits. Yujin felt her body tighten around Tyronne and Darius, their cocks pounding into her with a force she had never felt before. "Please," she begged, "I can't take anymore."

But the men were too far gone, their own need for release driving them to fuck the girls harder and deeper. "You're going to take it," Tyronne said, his eyes never leaving hers in the mirror. "You're going to take it all."

Their strokes grew more erratic, their breathing ragged. The girls knew it was coming, the moment they had been waiting for, the moment they had all been building to. The pressure grew unbearable, their bodies begging for the release that was so close.

And then it was upon them, the men's cocks pulsing with their climax, filling the girls' pussies and asses with hot cum. The girls' screams were music to their ears, their bodies milking the men for every drop, eager for more.

As the men pulled out, their cocks still twitching, the girls collapsed onto the bench, their bodies spent and sore. They looked at each other, their eyes wide with amazement. They had done it. They had pushed their boundaries and come out the other side, forever changed by the experience.

The men stood before them, their cocks still hard, their bodies glistening with sweat and cum. "That was amazing," Marcus said, his voice filled with awe.

"The best we've ever had," Tyronne agreed, his eyes never leaving the girls' faces.

The girls giggled, their bodies still trembling with the aftershocks of pleasure. They had found what they were looking for, and it was better than they could have ever imagined. They had become the sluts they had always dreamed of being, and they had never felt more alive.

But the men weren't done with them yet. Marcus and Zubari stepped forward, their cocks still rock-hard and gleaming with Karina's juices. "We've got an idea," Marcus said, a wicked glint in his eye. "Something that will make you scream even louder."

Without waiting for a response, they pushed their cocks together, the heads touching and sliding along each other. Karina watched, her eyes widening in shock and excitement as they positioned themselves at her pussy, their cocks touching and teasing her swollen lips. "Oh my god," she whispered, her voice trembling. "What are you doing?"

The men chuckled darkly, their eyes meeting in the mirror. "We're going to give you a taste of something new," Marcus said, his voice low and seductive. "Something you've never had before."

With a grin, Zubari lined up his cock with Marcus's, both of them pressing the heads against Karina's stretched pussy. The sensation was unlike anything she had ever felt before, the heat and pressure of two massive cocks at her entrance. She gasped, her eyes wide with fear and anticipation. "Oh god, please," she whimpered, her body quivering.

The men didn't wait for further encouragement. With a powerful thrust, they pushed into her together, their cocks sliding in side by side. Karina's scream echoed through the locker room, the sensation of being split open so wide was almost too much to bear.

"It's painful," she gasped, her voice strained with the effort of speaking. "It's like nothing I've ever felt before."

Her eyes squeezed shut tightly, and she clutched the sides of the bench, her knuckles turning white with the force of her grip. The sensation of two thick cocks pushing into her at once was overwhelming, the pain so intense it was almost unbearable. But there was something else there, something dark and thrilling that had her hips bucking back to meet them, desperate for more.

"It's... it's too much," Karina managed to whisper, her voice tight with strain. The fullness was unbelievable, a pressure so great she thought she might burst. Yet she couldn't help but crave it, the pain morphing into a strange, twisted pleasure that made her wetter, her pussy clenching around the invading cocks.

Marcus leaned down, his breath hot on her neck. "You can take it, baby," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "Take it all."

Karina felt her body stretching to accommodate them, the pressure building until she thought she'd scream. And then she did, her voice echoing off the tiles as the men pushed deeper, filling her completely. The pain was intense, but there was something else there, a dark pleasure that had her hips rising to meet them, her body begging for more.

The men began to move, their strokes long and deep, their cocks sliding in and out of her in a rhythm that made her vision swim. Karina's screams grew louder, filling the locker room with the sound of her pleasure. "It's too much," she sobbed, her voice lost to the intensity of the moment. "It's so fucking good, but it's too much!"

But the men didn't stop, their bodies moving in a frenzied dance of lust and power. They watched her in the mirror, their eyes glittering with excitement as she took them both. "You can do it," Marcus whispered, his voice soothing despite the fierce grip he had on her hips. "You're a good girl."

Yujin, still face down on the bench, felt Tyronne and Darius move closer. She knew what they wanted, and the thought made her heart race. She tried to push herself up, to protest, but she didn't have the strength. "No," she whimpered, her voice weak. "It won't fit, I can't..."

Her protests fell on deaf ears as the men positioned themselves, their cocks pressing against her sore pussy. The head of one cock slid inside her, and she gasped, the pain making her eyes water. But the pleasure was there too, a dark, thrilling sensation that had her hips moving back, trying to take more. And then the second cock pushed in, and she felt herself stretched to the limit. "Ahh," she moaned, her voice strangled. "It's too much, please..."

But the men didn't stop, didn't even pause. They pushed in together, their cocks stretching her beyond what she thought possible. The pain was white-hot, but it was quickly overwhelmed by the feeling of fullness, of being utterly owned and used. "Fuck," she screamed, her voice hoarse with desire. "It's so good, so fucking good!"

Wonyoung's eyes widened in shock as Omari and Amon approached, their cocks still hard and gleaming. She tried to scoot away, her voice trembling. "No, please," she begged. "My pussy is too small."

They just laughed, the sound deep and dark. "That's what makes it even better," Omari said, his hand reaching out to stroke her cheek. "The tighter the better."

Their fingers trailed down her body, exploring her curves, and she shivered with anticipation. She knew she couldn't take them both, not after what she'd just been through, but the thought of trying had her pussy clenching with need. "I'll break," she whimpered, her voice small and scared.

"We'll go slow," Amon assured her, his voice a gentle rumble in her ear. "We'll make it good for you, baby."

Their cocks touched her, the tips sliding along her slit, teasing her clit. Wonyoung felt her body respond, felt her pussy start to clench and pulse with the need for release. "Please," she begged, her voice desperate. "Please make it feel good."

They didn't need any further invitation. With a grin, Omari pushed into her, his cock stretching her open with a delicious pain that had her nails digging into the bench. "Look at her," Amon murmured, his cock sliding in beside Omari's. "Look how much she wants it."

Wonyoung's eyes rolled back in her head as they began to fuck her, their strokes slow and deliberate. It was a new kind of fullness, a new kind of pleasure that had her toes curling and her back arching. "Oh god," she moaned, her voice shaking. "Oh god, it's too much, I can't... I can't..."

The men watched her in the mirror, their eyes filled with a hunger that made her stomach clench. They were enjoying every second of her struggle, every gasp and whine that escaped her lips. "You can take it," Omari murmured, his cock moving in a steady rhythm. "You're doing so good, baby."

Their strokes grew faster, their hands moving to grip her hips, holding her in place as they pushed deeper. Wonyoung felt her body start to shake, her pussy tightening around them as the orgasm built. "I'm going to cum," she panted, her voice tight with the effort of holding back. "Oh god, I'm going to cum so hard!"

The men grinned at each other, their eyes locked on Wonyoung's face as she squirted around their cocks. The sensation was unlike anything they had felt before, her pussy spasming and clenching as she came. "Fuck, she's squirting," Amon murmured, his voice filled with amazement.

Yujin watched her friend, her own pussy clenching with envy. The thought of being filled so completely, of having no control over her own body, was intoxicating. "I want to cum like that," she moaned, her voice desperate.

"And you will," Tyronne assured her, his strokes growing more forceful. "You're going to squirt all over us, baby."

The pressure in Karina's pussy grew, her body stretching to accommodate the two massive cocks. She could feel the beginnings of another orgasm, her pussy clenching around them as they fucked her with a ferocity that bordered on brutal. "I can't," she gasped, her eyes squeezed shut. "It's too much, I'm going to pass out."

Marcus chuckled darkly, his grip on her hips tightening. "Not before you cum for us," he said, his voice a command. "You're going to scream our names as you squirt all over our cocks."

The girls' bodies were a symphony of pleasure and pain, their cries of ecstasy mixing with the sounds of the men's grunts. They had never felt so full, so used, and it was driving them wild. Their pussies spasmed, releasing a flood of juices that soaked the bench beneath them.

Marcus and Zubari didn't let up, their strokes deep and punishing. Karina's pussy was stretched to the limit, the pain and pleasure melding into a white-hot need that had her begging for more. "Cum for us," Marcus growled, his teeth clenched as he watched her in the mirror.

Yujin felt her pussy tightening around Tyronne and Darius, their cocks pumping in and out of her like pistons. The men's eyes were locked on her, their smiles predatory as they watched her approach the edge. "Do it," Darius murmured, his hand sliding up to pinch her clit. "Squirt for us."

Their words were like a command, and her body obeyed, her pussy clenching around their cocks as she squirted, the warmth of her release coating their cocks. "Ahh, yes," she screamed, her body bucking with the force of her orgasm.

Wonyoung's pussy was on fire, the sensation of Omari and Amon's cocks moving inside her almost unbearable. "I can't," she whimpered, her voice tight with strain. "Please, I need to cum."

The men chuckled, their strokes growing more forceful. "You will," Omari promised, his voice dark and seductive. "You're going to cum all over us."

Their hips slammed into her, their cocks hitting her deepest spots, pushing her closer and closer to the edge. And then it was there, the orgasm tearing through her like a storm, making her body shake and her eyes roll back in her head. "Oh fuck," she screamed, her voice hoarse with need. "Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!"

The men watched the girls, their cocks swelling with every scream and spurt of juice. They knew they were close, their balls tight and heavy with the need to release. "Ready to fill these sluts up?" Tyronne asked, his voice a low growl.

"More than ready," Darius grinned, his cock pumping in and out of Yujin's tight pussy.

The men moved together, their cocks sliding out of the girls' pussies with a wet sound that made them all shiver. They stepped back, their eyes on the prize, their bodies tense with anticipation. "Open up," Marcus said, his voice a low, guttural growl.

The girls obeyed, their legs spread wide, their pussies gaping and begging for more. The men didn't waste any time, pushing back in, filling them to the brim with their cum. The girls' bodies jerked as the hot, thick fluid filled them, the sensation overwhelming.

They came together, their screams mixing with the sound of the men's grunts. The locker room was a sea of sweat, cum, and desire, the air thick with the scent of sex. The men's cocks twitched as they emptied themselves into the girls, their eyes never leaving the sight of their swollen, filled pussies.

But the men weren't done. They had been waiting for this moment for too long, and they were going to take everything they wanted. As the girls lay there, panting and exhausted, the men pulled out, their cocks still hard. "Again," Marcus said, his voice a command.

Karina's eyes snapped open, her body tensing. "No," she gasped. "Please, no more." But the men didn't listen. Zubari pushed her legs apart, his cock sliding back into her pussy with ease. Marcus followed suit, filling her ass with his own thick length.

Yujin and Wonyoung watched in horror as the men began to fuck Karina once more, her body already stretched to the brink. They knew that if they didn't do something, they'd be next. But their protests were cut short as Tyronne and Darius pushed their cocks back into them, filling their pussies and asses with their thick, cum-covered lengths.

The men fucked them without mercy, their strokes powerful and relentless. They switched positions, sometimes filling their pussies together, sometimes taking turns with their asses, the girls' cries of pain and pleasure melding into one. "Please," Wonyoung begged, her voice a desperate whimper. "Please, I can't take anymore."

But the men just laughed, their eyes gleaming with lust. They were in control now, and they weren't going to stop until they were fully satisfied. They pounded into the girls, their balls slapping against their asses, their cocks hitting deep inside them, making them scream.

The girls felt their bodies betray them, their pussies clenching and releasing, their muscles spasming with each thrust. They were powerless to resist, their need for release overwhelming them. They begged and pleaded, but the men just fucked them harder, their strokes never slowing.

The locker room was a cacophony of sounds, the slap of skin on skin, the wet squelch of cocks sliding in and out of tight, filled pussies, the girls' desperate cries for mercy. But the men didn't stop, didn't even slow down. They fucked them through one orgasm and into the next, their own pleasure building with every thrust.

Karina felt her body giving out, her pussy and ass feeling like they were on fire. She was so full, so used, she didn't think she could take anymore. "Please," she sobbed. "Please, no more."

Marcus leaned down, his teeth grazing her ear. "You're going to take every drop," he murmured, his voice thick with lust. "You're going to be our little cum sluts."

The girls looked at each other, their eyes wide with terror and desire. They knew that they had no choice but to submit, to take everything the men had to give. And as they felt the cocks inside them swell, they knew that the end was near.

The men's strokes grew faster, their bodies tense as they approached their climax. The girls could feel it, the pressure building inside them, the inevitable release that would fill them once more. And then it was upon them, the men's cum flooding into their pussies and asses, mixing with their own juices and spilling out onto the floor.

They screamed, their bodies shaking with the force of it, their pussies clenching around the cocks, desperately trying to hold onto every drop. But the men kept fucking them, their cocks never leaving, their seed never stopping. It was an endless cycle of pain and pleasure that the girls were trapped in, their cries for help lost in the symphony of their own desperate moans.

Finally, with a roar of triumph, the men pulled out, their cocks still spurting cum. It rained down on the girls, mixing with the sweat and the juices that coated their bodies. They lay there, panting and spent, their eyes glazed with the overwhelming sensation of being completely used.

The men stepped back, their chests heaving with the exertion. They looked at each other, grinning with satisfaction. "That was some of the best pussy I've ever had," Darius said, wiping the sweat from his brow.

"Agreed," Tyronne chuckled, his eyes still on Yujin's trembling body. "But I think we've worn them out."

The girls lay there, unable to move, their muscles quivering with the aftermath of their orgasms. They were covered in cum, their bodies sticky and wet, their pussies and asses gaping. They had never felt so used, so utterly owned.

But the men weren't finished. With a wicked grin, Marcus picked Karina up by the neck, lifting her to her knees. "Open your mouth," he ordered, his cock pointing at her face. She tried to shake her head, her eyes wide with horror, but she had no strength to resist.

Wonyoung watched in shock as Omari and Amon did the same to her, their cocks thick and pulsing. "No," she whispered, her voice trembling. "It's not what we... we didn't agree to this."

The men ignored her protests, their eyes dark with desire. They had taken them to the edge of pleasure, and now they were going to push them over into something else entirely. "You're going to swallow," Tyronne said, his grip on Yujin's neck tightening. "You're going to swallow every drop."

The first spurt of hot, golden liquid hit Karina's face, making her gasp. She tried to turn away, but Marcus's grip was like steel, forcing her to take the stream of piss into her mouth. She gagged, her eyes watering, but she couldn't stop the flow. The taste was bitter, the sensation overwhelming, and she choked, trying to breathe.

Yujin and Wonyoung watched in horror as their friends were degraded before them. "No," Wonyoung sobbed, her voice weak. "Please, no more." But the men just laughed, their piss arcing through the air as they emptied their bladders into the girls' mouths.

The scene was one of complete domination, the men's power on full display. The girls' bodies trembled, their eyes wide with shock and fear. They had come looking for a kinky adventure, but this was more than they had bargained for. They had become the toys of these six black gods, their desires and boundaries pushed to the limit.

The piss filled their mouths, their throats, their stomachs, and the smell of it filled the locker room. They choked and gagged, their eyes watering, as the men used them for their own pleasure. It was a final act of submission, a demonstration of just how far they would go to satisfy their dark desires.

The men watched them, their smiles wide and cruel. They knew they had broken the girls, pushed them to a place they had never been before. And as they finished, their cocks still twitching with the last drops of piss, they felt a sense of triumph that was almost as intense as their orgasms.

But the girls had reached their breaking point. As the last drops fell from their chins, they collapsed onto the floor, their bodies heaving with sobs. They had never felt so violated, so used. And yet, as they lay there, their pussies clenched, the faintest echo of pleasure still lingering.

The men stepped back, their eyes on the sobbing, trembling girls. They had given them an experience they would never forget, one that would stay with them forever. And as they zipped up their pants, their eyes never leaving the scene before them, they knew they had found what they were looking for. They had found the ultimate in submission, the ultimate in pleasure.

With a laugh, Marcus turned to the others. "Spread the word," he said, his voice filled with excitement. "We've got living toilets in here."

The men filed out of the locker room, their footsteps echoing in the silence. The door swung open, and in streamed a line of eager gym-goers, their eyes on the girls on the floor. Karina, Yujin, and Wonyoung looked up, their eyes wide with terror as they realized what was about to happen.

One by one, the men approached, their cocks in hand. They didn't even bother to aim, just letting their piss spray over the girls, soaking them from head to toe. The girls choked on the foul liquid, their bodies convulsing with the humiliation and the pain. They had never felt so low, so used.

But even as the piss rained down on them, their bodies betrayed them. Their pussies clenched and released, their asses quivered, and they couldn't help but feel a dark thrill at the degradation. It was as if their kink had been taken to a new level, one that they had never even imagined.

The gym patrons took turns, some pissing in their mouths, some on their faces, and others on their breasts and stomachs. The girls' bodies were a canvas for the men's desires, their cries of protest lost in the symphony of male laughter and the hiss of piss hitting the tiles.

The scene was one of complete and utter degradation, a testament to the power of the men's desire. And as the last man finished, the locker room was filled with the acrid smell of urine, a scent that would stay with the girls forever.

They lay there, sobbing, their bodies trembling with the aftermath of their ordeal. They had never felt so dirty, so used, so completely owned. But somewhere in the back of their minds, a part of them knew that they had found what they were looking for, a part of them that reveled in the pain and the pleasure of it all.

Slowly, they managed to get to their hands and knees, their legs wobbly as they crawled towards the locker room door. The floor was sticky with cum and piss, making it difficult to move, but they had to get out. They had to find someone to help them, to save them from this living nightmare.

But as they reached the door, it was blocked by a figure, a man they hadn't seen before. He was tall and muscular, his skin dark like the night, his eyes gleaming with lust. "Where do you think you're going?" he asked, his voice a low purr.

The girls looked up at him, their eyes wide with fear. "Please," Wonyoung begged, her voice barely a whisper. "Help us."

The stranger chuckled, his hand reaching out to stroke her cheek. "Oh, I'll help you alright," he said, his eyes raking over their bodies. "But first, you're going to show me what you're really made of."

With surprising strength, he grabbed them by the hair, dragging them out of the locker room and down the empty walk street. They struggled, their cries echoing off the walls, but it was no use. He was too strong, too powerful. They were helpless in his grasp, their bodies his to do with as he pleased.

As they stumbled out into the night, the cool air hit their soaked skin, sending shivers down their spines. The street was deserted, a perfect stage for their ongoing degradation. The stranger's words hung in the air, a promise of further humiliation that made their stomachs churn. "You're going to be the talk of the town," he sneered. "Living toilets, ready for anyone to use."

The girls looked around frantically, their eyes searching for an escape, for a glimmer of hope. But the street was eerily silent, the only sounds the distant sirens of the city and the squelch of their cum-filled pussies. They were trapped, their fates in the hands of this sadistic man.

"Please," Karina managed to gasp, her voice hoarse from screaming. "We'll do anything."

He chuckled, his eyes glinting with malicious amusement. "Oh, I know you will," he said, his voice a dark caress. "You're going to be everyone's little sluts, aren't you?" He said.

The girls complied, their bodies trembling with fear and arousal. They couldn't believe what was happening to them, that their kink had led them to this dark, twisted place.

The news of their depraved activities in the gym had spread like wildfire, reaching every corner of the city. Men from all walks of life now sought them out, eager to use their bodies for their own perverse pleasures. Each day brought new faces, new cocks, new humiliations.

The streets were their new playground, where they were fucked by the homeless, criminals, and any kind of people their cries of pleasure and pain echoing through the alleyways. They had become the ultimate sex toys, available for anyone's use.

Their lives had become a never-ending cycle of degradation, each day a blur of sweat, cum, and piss. They had lost count of the number of times they had been filled and emptied, their pussies and asses stretched beyond their limits.

The regret grew with each passing moment, a constant reminder of their fall from grace. If only they had been able to control their desires, they wouldn't be the public sluts and toilets they had become.

Their days were spent on their knees, servicing the never-ending line of men who sought them out, their nights were even worse, as they were passed around like property, their bodies used and discarded without a second thought.

Their fantasies had become a prison, a nightmare they couldn't escape. They had become the very thing they had once dreamed of, but now, it was a reality they wished they could wake up from.

Their eyes held a haunting mix of desperation and lust, a testament to the depths they had sunk. They had no control, no say in what happened to them, their lives now dictated by the whims of the men who used them.

Each new act of debasement brought a fresh wave of pain, yet they couldn't help but crave more. The very thing that had brought them to this point had now become their undoing, a cycle they were trapped in with no end in sight.

Their cries for help fell on deaf ears, their pleas for mercy only serving to excite their users further. They were no longer Karina, Yujin, and Wonyoung, just three holes to be filled, three mouths to be used, three sets of tits to be played with.

And yet, amidst the pain and the humiliation, there was a dark thrill that pulsed through them, a need to be used, to be owned, to be filled with cum and piss. It was a part of them now, a twisted part that had grown too strong to ignore.

As the days turned into weeks, the weeks into months, they became known as the gym sluts, the girls who would do anything for a taste of a black cock. They were the talk of the town, the legend that grew with every retelling, their degradation becoming a part of the fabric of the city's underbelly.

Their names were forgotten, their past lives a distant memory. They had become living embodiments of the darkest desires of the men who used them, their existence solely to satisfy the most depraved appetites.

The regret lingered, a constant presence in their minds, a reminder of what they had lost. But with each passing day, it grew fainter, replaced by a need to serve, to be used, to be filled with the very fluids that had once disgusted them.

Their bodies had become a canvas for the men's lust, a toilet for their cum and piss. They had become what they had once fantasized about, and the only thing they had left was the hope that one day, they might find a way out of the hell they had created for themselves.

[kxsagi]

HELLO MY BESTIE!! 🫶🏻 ihope everything is going well!

the guy who has been in a relationship for a long time but kept it secret so that no one knows, had a football match again. it was a very important and crowded match. victorrryyy at the end of the match!! after all, the same football player who showed off his girlfriend with great excitement at the end of the match. IN FRONT OF EVERYONE... maybe a hug or a kiss scene in the heat of the moment?? CAN I ESPECIALLY REQUEST THE ITOSHI BROTHERS?? if it's a problem for you, no problem at all!! have a good day <3

“𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞”

a/n: HIII LOVE! everything is going good and i hope it's the same, if not better, for you, too! have a good day as well and thank you for your request ❤️🤭

(don't know art credits so sorry)

ft. itoshi rin, itoshi sae

itoshi rin

you’d always known rin was quiet about his personal life. not just private, but secretive. he never gave the media anything. not a crumb. you could be sitting on his lap feeding him strawberries and he’d still deny your existence to the press with a deadpan, “no comment.” 

so when you sit in the VIP seats of his final championship match, hood up, cap on, sunglasses hiding half your face, you think it’ll end the way it always does. he wins. waves to the crowd. vanishes into the tunnel. sends you a text later like “u here?” 

because rin itoshi is not the type to cause a scene. 

but today, apparently, is different. 

his team scores the winning goal in the last five minutes. the stadium erupts. he’s crowned man of the match, carried on shoulders, chants of his name bouncing off the walls. you stand up, clapping, heart full, proud and bursting and still tucked behind anonymity. 

until he finds you. 

like, actually finds you. 

your head turns when you hear his voice call your name. and not softly. not like a whisper. he yells it over the cheers, over the camera shutters. the crowd around you turns too, confused. 

and then he’s there. sweaty, flushed, glowing under stadium lights, grinning like he just broke every rule in the itoshi handbook. 

“come here,” he breathes. 

you hesitate. “rin?” 

he doesn’t let you finish. just pulls you into his arms like he’s been waiting years to do it. his hands lock around your waist, and your cap nearly falls off when he kisses you right in front of everyone. 

you swear time freezes. 

the camera flashes go wild. someone screams. a lady next to you gasps like she’s watching a k-drama in real time. 

rin pulls back just enough to look you in the eyes. “i’m not hiding you anymore,” he says. “they can deal with it.” 

you blink. “are you okay?” 

he smirks. “never been better.” 

itoshi sae 

sae’s always been impossible to read. calm, cold, untouchable. the kind of guy who could be in love with you for ten years and still say “i don’t do PDA” like it’s a religion. 

which is why dating him has always felt like walking on a balance beam. you’ve learned to exist in the sidelines, in shadows. private dinners, blurry phone calls from different time zones, hidden hotel rooms. 

but tonight? 

tonight is the champions league final. 

and you’re in the stands again, just like always, not cheering too loudly, not standing out. you’d made peace with being invisible, because loving sae was worth it. 

his team wins 3–2. the stadium explodes with excitement. the players are hugging, crying, jumping all over each other. 

you expect him to smile slightly, do a post-match interview, maybe flick his hair and leave. 

but instead he walks right toward you. 

he cuts through security like it’s nothing. your eyes widen as he reaches the edge of the stands, and for a second, you think, nah. no way. not sae. 

“you,” he says, pointing straight at you. “come here.” 

you blink, frozen. “what–” 

he hops the barrier. climbs the damn rail. he doesn’t care about the fans yelling, or the staff chasing after him. he’s walking with tunnel vision, focused only on you. 

“sae, what are you doing–” 

“i won,” he says, pulling you down by the hand. “but i only want you.” 

and then, with the entire world watching, he wraps his arms around you and kisses you so hard, your brain short-circuits. 

his fingers grip your face like you’re the most important thing in the universe. like you were the goal all along. 

when he pulls away, the camera crews are practically drooling. 

he just shrugs. “if they didn’t know, now they do.” 

you stare at him, stunned. “you realize they’re going to replay that a thousand times, right?” 

he smirks, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “good. maybe they’ll finally stop asking if i’m single.” 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[mixingandmelting]

Hey so how do you think the bat boys would deal with a s/o where they list off a ton of insane injuries that they didn’t go to the hospital for treatment for, you can’t even tell they been through that stuff and it kind of makes you wonder how s/o is still alive after all that? S/o is just casually listing them like you would a grocery list (Jason interesting cuz He did die and was brought back. Dick got shot in head and made an amazing recovering).

A/N: per protocol, a psa/disclaimer - there’s nothing graphic or explicit in what’s written below (it’s literally the name of the injury that’s all) but please do not be like the boys or reader. Seek medical consult, makes the life a whole lot better and easier 😔

Dick:

He would be a hypocrite if he were to call you out right there and then. But his “eldest siblings” bell keeps blaring in his head the more he listens to your list of injuries. 

“So, let me get this straight.” He rubs his temples with two fingers, a familiar migraine faintly throbbing in his head. “You thought it would be fine to NOT go to the hospital and get checked up after falling from a roof despite knowing you had a concussion.” 

“Well, if you put it that way, it doesn’t sound all that great-“ You clear your throat, your eyes shifting away from him when he gives you a pointed look. “Okay, so that might’ve not been the smartest idea. But it was what, the third one I had? I already had a clue what to do so…” 

He’s going to have an aneurysm. Hands down for sure when you simply shrug as if you hadn’t just told him a list of insane injuries he had no idea about. 

Breath, Dick. Breath. It’s you he’s dealing with. His one and only who happens to be prone to getting injured in the worst ways-

Sensing her dad’s distraught, Dick lets Haley jump into his lap before he plops his face in her tummy. 

“Oh, Haley. What are we going to do? Your other parent is a trouble-magnet and hates hospitals. At this point, I’ll become a widower in my mid-thirties.” 

“Hey!” You shout, jabbing a finger at him. “I’m not like you, jumping into toxic gas without protection- widower? Why would you be a widower?” 

It takes a while to finally get him to stop mother-henning you after he follows you around in both civilian and vigilantes to every place you go. But after the bathroom incident, he relents once you agree to have him on speed dial and emergency contact. 

Jason:

“Relatable.” 

Relatable his ass. Sure, he can relate considering all the things he’s been through (prime example: him dying and reviving). But here’s the difference: it’s you. Period. He wants you to be safe, unharmed, and happy. Like, is it really too much to ask? 

Hell, he probably would’ve never thought you’d gone through all that had you not said anything. But,now, everything changed and he didn’t think a day would come for him to, ironically, be the one to tell someone to go to the hospital. 

“Right? Thank you, at least someone gets it!” You don’t notice the blank stare he has, the mug he takes a drink out of obscuring his face. “I swear, people freak out when it’s not that bad.” 

…He needs a beer. And send an apology note to Dick and Alfred. 

“Oh yeah, nagging? Definitely isn’t going to do anything. Just makes you want to do the opposite.” 

“Exactly. I mean I get it, especially if it’s getting both my shoulder and knee dislocated at the same time.” The grip on his mug tightens, a crack starting at the handle. “But, I’m not going to go if someone won’t stop going on and on with ‘oh, you should get that checked, or ‘why didn’t you get seen by a doctor’, you know?” 

Oh, don’t you worry. He knows, alright.

“So, your ankle. I’m guessing you didn’t get that checked.” 

The one and only good thing about your current injury was that you couldn’t dart away like usual. With having sat next to you this whole time as a plus, he’s quick to pull and, mindfully, hold you in the princess hold. 

One thing leads to the next and the two of you are at the manor with Alfred taking a look at your injury. At least you weren’t mad anymore, watching him endure the harassment of bringing over his S/O home. 

Tim:

“You had an injury on your neck but you left A.M.A*!” 

“At least I went to the hospital! Unlike someone here who didn’t after breaking three ribs!”

“Okay, no. You were forced to get admitted, first off. Second, you’re still missing a spleen-?!” 

The two of you have been going back and forth with each other ever since you dropped on him the list (why is it a list??? Why do you have a list???) of insane injuries you never went to the hospital for. 

At first, all he did was, calmly (calmly being the keyword), inform you why going to the hospital would be a good idea in case of future events. And you said sure. When you need to, that is. 

He catches it and calls you out on your poor attempt to BS. You then called him out for his BS. There was a moment of truce that lasted for a minute when Alfred got mentioned. You both shook hands over not to delve into it as you both held affection for the butler and fatherly figure. 

“I was trained to recognize this stuff even before my Robin years! I’m certified for first-aid treatment!” 

“Oh wow, that’s amazing Tim! But who was the one that gave you CPR when you nearly drowned?!” 

He loudly groans, dragging both hands down his face. 

“Then, that’s a bigger incentive for you to get checked up at the hospital, then!” He makes vague hand motions in the air as he starts to pace around. “You get hurt whenever I’m not there and can’t protect you!” 

“… What?” 

In the end, you comfort Tim though it takes a while to talk him out of about a 24/7 personalized bodysuit. You did end up agreeing with the emergency pager to make him feel a bit better, designed as a fashionable wrist watch. 

Duke: 

He closes his mouth. Opens it. Closes it again. Opens it. 

“So… How exactly are you alive again?” 

He simply raises an eyebrow in response to the unimpressed expression you give him. 

“It’s not all that bad-“ 

“Not that bad?” He snorts. “Not that bad? I’m not that bad!”

He jumps up and points both hands towards himself before pointing them towards you. 

“Here I am, dealing with villains left and right which makes sense as to why I get hurt. But, what was it you just said? A stab wound with a knife?” 

“Actually, it was a spoon.” 

“A spoon-???” His voice pitches an octave, cracking in the end. 

For someone so normal, he couldn’t help but wonder how you knew so well on what to do when someone gets injured in the most bizarre ways. Not at all expecting there to be personal lore on how you gained that knowledge. 

In one part, it saddens him at the fact he’s once again the one with common sense. The other? 

He grimaces. 

It…actually checks out. Because it’s a rule written by the universe that vigilantes are not allowed to fall in love with someone normal. And though you are normal for the most part, this? This definitely checks the box on meeting the requirement. 

“Why did you get stabbed with a spoon in the first place?” 

Oh no. You’re awkwardly laughing. 

Some time passes and he’s shopping with his mom for office supplies. As she looks over the Manila envelopes, he notices a particular large roll of bubble wrap. So, when he’s asked as to why he’s buying three rolls of it, he gives the classic excuse of needing it for a science experiment. Which, in part, is true considering he’s planning to see if you being wrapped in it will prevent you from getting injured like in the ads. 

Damian:

“What are your parents' occupations again?” 

You give Damian a flat stare. 

It does little to deter him, persuaded that you’re either lying to him or you’ve lived a similar life as him with training in the most extreme conditions and didn’t tell him. 

There’s no other options or explanations to how you could possibly get those injuries, nonetheless a list of them. And he doesn’t know what he’s frustrated more about: the nonchalance of you stating them like reading off items on a grocery list or he wasn’t there and prevented them from happening. 

Not going to the hospital for your injuries, he can somewhat understand. With how terrible Gotham’s healthcare system is and the number of patients that get admitted from criminal activities every day, it’s considered a good day when patients are seen after eight hours of waiting in the ER. 

Lucky you, you happen to be loved by someone who can medically assess whenever. The Batcave has the latest, cutting-edge technology on medical equipment while he, himself, has the medical expertise that’s potentially on par with that of his father’s and Alfred. He’s sure he can provide you treatment better than any hospital in the city. 

“Damian, I’m fine.” You huff, rolling your eyes.  “Besides, it’s nothing compared to last time.”

Does he want to know what happened during this so-called “last time”?

“I think you need to get your brain checked if you’re considering forced-bed rest as ‘nothing’”. He shoves another peeled apple slice just in time when you’re about to talk back. 

That pattern continues for the rest of the day with him nagging you like a tiger parent while feeding you food (he ignores the bit about him sneaking into your room is an invasion of private property). Eventually, later that week, the two of you squabble again after you catch him following you around almost everyday while he argues how you can’t be left unsupervised.

[redwine-1-zz]

On Bloods shit is really fucked up on Bloods I tell you yeah My peeps I feel the same way as everybody else those Ones no on Bloods who the fuck they are a nigga ain't gotta say a Motherfucking that's on Piru 151 that is why when where whatever the Blood but on Bloods I'll just have to not let any mother fucker so they know on Blood what it do to make your good vibes will go away then it's almost impossible to get it back that's really niggas because I felt all the emotionly distract and nothing seen too works it starts to take me some where you've never been before it's seen as a weird unamiliar place that was placespiritually, psychologically mythological, anyway so can't what I went through it doesn't matter what I say whoever because they believe only way they believe in so on Bloods that's what I'm about Piru 151 is my gang and that's what I believe in you feel on Bloods I'll be just fine my dude that's why I really don't fuck with outsiders and we ani't never gonna see I to I whatever on Bloods I'm going keep doing me do you understand the words that's going out of my mouth but on Bloods believe me if you want to I'm a real stand up dude on Bloods I lie still get over on whoever I'm always on point always willing to help too whatever too keep me from fucking up I really got real niggas on my side on Bloods My name in the street is so good they don't know nothing about me even my first name there is nobody in Las Vegas that knows anything about me do you here's me gonna whatever so anyway that's on Bloods everything is gonna fixed whatever needs to be fixed it is God I really understand that only forget you is when you forgive the ones that fucked over when all the fucking chaos came profusely uncontrollable it was all fucked up but now you should be able to comprehend mind body soul spirit now ask yourself have you ever died spiritually and if so you gotta come with an understanding of what you no about how to control it and it'll start to alouder it's self too giving it to you without no knowledge of even technique it's just One of those things you can't make sense of what has taken away from you even knowing anything about it fuck it Blood there's a lot of things you'll see that don't make any damn sense fuck it on Bloods let if pass don't fuck with it some things are not too be disrespectful to any living soul let everything life stay in your lines never step on what you believe because you'll turn into too a losted Soul just trip you won't have any feelings what so ever you'll feel like you got bipolar on Bloods if it ever got like that it might take you over 39' years to come out of this dilemma can you please understand you'll go through that for 30 years are you listening to what the fuck I'm trying differently to fixed whatever whenever I fall out on a psychological reason it became a very difficult thing to deal with it was none detectable all I felt was Pain and more Pain I couldn't understand why it was so hard to detect what it was that took over everything that makes me up as China Ru 151 Wan Gary all them names so if I fuck with you you'll be around in so don't trip On Bloods anything that ani't taking over self so do whatever do but do it from your heart and don't contradict anything that you believe in on Bloods gang Woop Woop p-funk ?

This punk ass pretty little slut that she really is on Bloods she can't cum over and tried to psychological try to mind fuck a week nigga over he'll go for some weenie ass nigga yeah but a real we can detect that feeling anymore you no shit Will get though life without too much complications it just fall into place let it do it's thing all you gotta do stay out of too way that any got a none unexpected fuck it Blood that's on a motherfucker that thinks they know every thing in the world and don't nobody nothing words mean anything but you no what to do right anyway I'm gonna get on my own understanding Woop Woop p-funk. 1zz

Blackpaper: Tumblr is my diary ``𓍯 ִֶָ. ִֶָ.

[rafes-honey]

Thinking of… 𐙚ᣟ݂

Dumb!ditzy!reader x Rafe when they fight:

The fight had been stupid.

Okay, maybe it had started because you called his dealer “kind of nice” after he held the door open for you — and maybe you did giggle a little too hard when he complimented your lip gloss. But it wasn’t that deep.

But Rafe’s eyes had gone sharp, mean — and before you could blink, he was barking at you in front of everyone. That angry tone. That cold stare. The way he spat “Do you even think before you speak, or is your head just full of lip gloss and Instagram filters?”

You’d said nothing.

Just stood there like a kicked puppy until you finally turned around and left. You didn’t even wait for him to follow. You barely remembered how you got home.

Now it was hours later.

The silk tie on your robe was knotted too tight. Your lashes were clumpy from crying. And you were curled up in the corner of the bed, surrounded by pillows and a half-eaten bowl of cereal you didn’t want anymore.

Your eyes hurt. Your face hurt. Your heart hurt.

Your bottom lip wobbled as you stared at the door, waiting. Hoping.

He’s not coming home.

He was probably out somewhere still pissed, chain-smoking and calling you names in his head. Maybe he’d realized he was tired of babysitting his airhead girlfriend. Maybe he’d finally decided you were too much work.

And maybe you were.

You sniffled as you pressed your face into your sleeve. You were stupid. You knew it. Everyone always said you were — Rafe included, sometimes, when he was tired or mad or both.

But you loved him.

And now he hated you.

The front door creaked open.

You froze. Heart stopping. Head snapping up, curls falling into your eyes. You heard the soft sound of sneakers on hardwood, then his voice — calm, gruff, like nothing had even happened.

“Baby?”

You didn’t say anything. You stayed in your nest of sadness and almond milk. He appeared in the doorway seconds later — messy hair, tired eyes, hoodie slung over one shoulder.

And in his arms…

…a kitten.

A tiny, gray, squirmy little fluff ball with big ears and a pink ribbon tied gently around its neck.

Your mouth parted. A soft, wet hiccup broke from your chest.

“You got a cat,” you said stupidly.

Rafe ran a hand over his face. “She’s not a cat yet, she’s a baby. Just like you.” He walked over, nudging a pile of your blankets aside with his knee. “Figured if you’re gonna cry this much, you should at least have someone to match your energy.”

You stared at the kitten. Then at him.

“I thought you were mad at me,” you whispered, voice all glassy and broken.

He looked at you for a long second.

Then dropped the kitten gently on your lap — where it immediately started climbing onto your fuzzy pink robe, purring — and knelt in front of you, resting his hands on your knees.

“I was mad,” he said slowly. “But I still love you.”

You blinked fast, overwhelmed, reaching out to touch his face with trembling fingers. He let you, his eyes dark and tired but so soft.

“You think I’m dumb,” you mumbled, voice cracking again. “You said my head’s full of filters.”

He sighed, fingers curling around your thighs.

“Sometimes you say dumb shit. That’s different. You’re not dumb, baby. You’re just…” he searched for the word, lips twitching a little. “Sweet. And clueless. And too trusting. And it scares the fuck outta me.”

You pouted. “I didn’t even like his compliment. It was a gross compliment. I only said thank you ‘cause I was raised polite.”

“I know.” He leaned in, pressing his forehead to your knee. “I was being an asshole. I know.”

You were quiet, running your hands through his hair, lip wobbling again.

“I thought you didn’t want me anymore,” you whispered.

Rafe’s eyes shot up to yours.

Then — without another word — he stood, pushed you gently back onto the bed, and climbed over you.

The kitten meowed indignantly and trotted off the blanket, leaving you breathless beneath Rafe’s weight, the scent of smoke and mint gum clinging to his hoodie.

His hands found your waist. Your thighs. Sliding under your robe to touch bare skin.

“I always want you,” he said lowly, voice thick. “Even when I’m mad. Even when you drive me fuckin’ crazy.”

You bit your lip, heart racing, legs falling open just a little.

“You forgive me?”

He kissed your cheek. Your jaw. The tip of your nose.

“Nothing to forgive.”

His hand slid between your legs, slow, possessive. You gasped softly, fingers curling into his sweatshirt.

“Now stop crying, baby,” he whispered against your skin, “and let me remind you whose dumb little girl you are.”

[missconchshell]

I loved this new episode of Miraculous! Oh my gosh, I didn't even realize it was coming out, but I'm so happy it did!

I've never been too too attached to either Marc or Nathaniel, but this episode really won me over! It was neat getting to see both of their parents, and show just how much of a difference unconditional support can make. It really reminded of just how lucky I am that my own parents are so accepting.

I also love the contrast in the setting as well, with Nathaniel's family physically further apart, while Marc and his parents are all bunched together on the same couch. I feel like the show has been putting in a lot more care into framing and the setup of scenes this season, and I'm all for it!

Also, this is one of the first times I've seen their new designs up close, and I'm a huge fan! Love all the little details, like Marc's eye makeup, Nathaniel's self-painted shoes and his wavy little hairclip. Just look at the happy boy!

Now, onto the meat of the episode. Nathaniel's passions (and by association himself) being rejected by his parents did get me to tear up. It hurt and felt so real, I'm amazed to see this sorta thing in a show like Miraculous.

I felt so bad watching him destroy his work and try and force himself to conform to his parents' expectations. It was a very realistic picture of this type of struggle, and is definitely something I and I'm sure many others have struggled with before. And I was shocked at how blunt the writers got with the implied homophobia with lines from his mom about making Nathaniel "go straight."

Then once it got onto the mom being named Ruler, I just kinda started laughing, like, oh, they weren't gonna be subtle at all!

And dang Lila, willing to even use homophobia to get those miraculous. Tsk tsk.

The Akuma's power was definitely pretty creepy, like I hate these eyes so much, but Lila got really dang close to getting those miraculous this time, far more than any of Gabe's minion-based akumas! And despite this being the billionth time Chat Noir's been controlled, the physicality of the animation and voice acting did a decent job of making it funny.

It was also neat that the Akuma's powers got to be used against them, with Nathaniel finally stepping forth and taking back control from his mother (side note: I loved his transformation literally having him come out of the closet, the animators knew exactly what they were doing).

I know I've ignored them most of the episode, but I will say that Marinette and Adrien were adorable as usual! And I love that he feels comfortable enough with her to tease!

Then there was the ending. I'm so glad Nathaniel's parents came to accept his love of comics (and Marc). It was a sweet moment of acceptance that not everyone is lucky enough to have, so I'm glad we at least got a happy ending here.

I also really appreciate that little serious moment at the very end. I was expecting more Lila dialogue when the ominous music started playing, but having a serious moment where they discuss how they're attacked simply living their lives was a sad but pleasant surprise. It's cool that they're acknowledging a reality that so many people face every day. But I'm so glad these boys have each other in this!

And even if I know for a fact that the identity reveal is going to blow up in their faces one day based on the show's history, it still was so adorable and I loved the scene! Just the joy on each of their faces, knowing they're not alone, was so sweet!

Overall, I'm just really impressed with the writers this season! They're tackling a lot more serious topics in these one-off episodes, and honestly doing it far better than I ever expected from this silly love-square show. So many of these stories have resonated with me, and it's been really neat getting to see so much representation of different struggles. And it's especially cool to think about how these episodes could meaningfully impact the show's younger audience as well! These are the sorts of things I wish I saw more of growing up, it would have changed little miss shell's world for the better. So, keep up the good work Miraculous Team!

[draculasstrawhat]

Also, in a play that is about the instability of shallow declarations of love or friendship… it’s a really important tonal shift in that scene.

They’ve had the tender weepy scene, he has committed himself to Hero’s cause (although he does not necessarily believe her innocence), they have awkwardly and wittily declared their love for each other and have grabbed a moment’s gentleness in an absolute bastard of a day. So it is that for one moment, exuberant with emotion, Benedick plays the hyperbolic lover.

Remember, this is the guy who pulled, “aye, and a box to put it in,” at Claudio’s “can the world buy such a jewel” nonsense in the first act. The guy to whom big, overstated demonstrative behaviour is the most ridiculous thing, declared, “Come, bid me do anything for you!”

It is pure, lovers’ nonsense. It brings the scene up fro the depths of despair back in to the realm of comedy. It is rushing, impulsive, and - on a deep level - insincere.

And Beatrice - “a star danced” Beatrice, the funniest character in the play, who has turned down a Prince with a sweet joke, who has laughed off all other ills, responds with absolute, deadly seriousness:

Kill Claudio.

She is demanding something not encompasses by the conventions of “players love.” Not grand feats of glory of adoration, not even Knight Errant stuff - she is asking a man to kill his best friend, on the word of a woman.

The wording is so stark. She is rejecting, directly, all pretty words and promises and vows of love. She is not asking Benedick to defend Hero’s honour, to fight a duel, to be a champion. She wants bloody vengeance. She wants murder done.

And in that moment, Muchado hangs in the balance of comedy and tragedy.

Crucially, Benedick does not immediately acquiesce. They argue, and it is not the playful sparring of their witty battles - she barely lets him say her name. He falls back on all the empty, lovers’ tropes (“by this hand I love thee”) and she holds him to them (“Use it for my love some other way than swearing by it.”)

This is a play that hinges on the difference between seeming and reality, between words and actions, between promises and truths, and we have been shown over and over how easily people can be deceived.

And Beatrice knows this. Sitting there, weeping, she knows that words mean nothing without action to back them up. That love, constancy, devotion have meaning only in action.

Which, is the glimmer of hope that takes us off this knife-edge to a happy ending. If people are willing to back up their protestations with meaningful action, change can happen. Friends can be true, lovers can be faithful, repentance can be sincere, and marriages can be happy.

Which, if you missed it here, comes up again in the last scene, when B&B both deny their feelings for each other out of embarrassment, but are betrayed by material proofs of their love - to which those who care about them can attest.

Words are nothing. They can cause all sorts of problems, but to solve things, sometimes you need to act.

so many things try to emulate the Beatrice/Benedick relationship and so few of them get it right bc they’re like ‘oh it’s about the banter’ and YES, obviously, but if you make it JUST about the banter you’re going to fail! it’s about the RESPECT!!! it’s about the scene after Hero’s shaming where Benedick drops the banter entirely and sits there with Beatrice as she rages and weeps and then chooses to side with HER instead of the boy’s club that he’s been hanging out with for the entire play, both because he loves her and because she’s RIGHT!

like, it’s not some impulsive thing to make her like him, and it’s not just talk; he asks her if she’s sure and then he agrees and then he remains cold and determined when he meets Claudio and Don Pedro and they try to get him to joke around with them like old times.  i think that’s one of the things that gets me the most; that there’s a scene that you half-expect to fall into that same sort of joking, where Claudio and Don Pedro are specifically like, “Huh, we inexplicably feel kind of sad after ruining this woman’s life and reputation, I bet Benedick will cheer us up!” and he just. utterly refuses to engage. and it’s so powerful and it’s such a tonal shift and such a strong indication of just how much he loves and values Beatrice and!! anything that gets the banter but doesn’t get that completely fails to understand their relationship! THB!!

[natalievoncatte]

Lena watched their new visitor as she, in turn, watched the bier that lay beneath the healing power of the Purple Ray. It had been almost a full day and while she was breathing shallow breaths, Lena’s counterpart on the table was still not awake.

The cyborg stood just outside the perimeter of the beam, as still as a statue, just watching. At various times Kara, Nia, Alex, and Diana herself had all taken up silent watch next to her, along with the honor guard of Amazonian warriors.

Lena looked at… herself. Her doppleganger tapped the name tag on her leather jacket.

“It’s easier if you just call me by my number- 938. That’s how we keep track of each other.”

Lena nodded. “Others?”

“The other Lenas. There’s about fifty on the ship right now, the core membership. There’s about three hundred of us in total. We’re the ones who can’t, or won’t, go home.”

“I see,” said Lena. “Why can’t you go back?”

938 looked at her. “It’s not a fun story.”

“I’m listening.”

“Let me show you something.”

She held out her wrist. There was a piece of tech on her arm, like a bulky smart watch. When she activated it, a three dimensional holographic display appeared above the smooth surface. 938 pointed out the branches of what looked like a huge tree.

“The multiverse is much larger than you can imagine. I’ve spent some time charting a small section of it. See this branch?” she indicated one with a sweep of her finger. “This the reality cluster I come from. Our worlds are different from yours. I believe it’s because the divergence point, where the two universes split on a quantum continuity level, is further back in history. I think some of the changes can go all the way back to the Big Bang.”

“There’s so many,” said Lena.

998 nodded. “There are. There are worlds like yours, but many others like mine. We have no protectors. No Kryptonians. No Lanterns. There are worlds out there where no one has powers at all.”

“But not yours,” said Lena.

938 turned off the device, and turned away from the scene behind them. “For me it started with a lab accident. A genetically modified spider was irradiated and bit me before it died. It’d escaped from an enclosure in another lab and got zapped by my own experiment. I was sick for three days. When I came out of it, I had the proportionate strength, speed, and agility of an arachnid, plus a precognitive danger sense and spinarettes in my wrists.”

“You became a superhero?”

“Yes,” said 938. “For all the good it did. I fought the good fight for a few years and eventually ran afoul of a new gang in town. The problem was that it was led by my own brother.”

“Lex,” Lena spat.

“He’d experimented on himself. Used an unstable steroid. It drove him utterly insane and he started wearing a goblin costume and flying around on a rocket powered glider.”

“Oh God,” said Lena.

“My universe doesn’t have a Krypton. My Kara was human, only human, and I loved her with all my heart. I couldn’t breathe without her. She was my everything. I tried to keep her safe, so I kept my identity and my feelings from her, but it didn’t matter. Lex knew. He abducted her and threw her off the George Washington Bridge.”

938 looked away. “I thought I had her. I tried to use my webs to catch her but I didn’t think and the shock… I’m the one who killed her really. The sudden stop snapped her neck.”

Lena stared at her.

“I’m so sorry.”

938 shook her head. “I fought Lex after that. I was in a rage. I killed him in front of thousands of witnesses. I broke his neck, almost twisted his head off. It didn’t matter. She was still gone, and nothing would ever fill that void. I hung up my costume and turned back to science, trying to build something meaningful in Kara’s name, but no matter how many labs and fellowships I named after her it was never enough. That was how I stumbled across the multiverse, working on a portal device in my lab.”

“You found yourself, I take it. Or ourself.”

“No. I found another Kara, and in a world with no Lena. She was alone. I crossed over with some of my tech, never planning to go back. Then I realized, that woman wasn’t her. All I could ever be to her was someone grooming her to be a dead woman from another world. I despaired for a while, jumping from ‘verse to ‘verse, trying to find some reason to keep going.”

“What did you find?” said Lena.

“Lena 1467, the Sorcerer Supreme of her Earth. She’d lost her Kara too, in a car accident when they were med students. That was when the League of Lenas got going. We found more of us, started assembling a team.”

“To do what?”

998 looked at the cyborg. “Fix it. Save her.” She sighed. “Our main mission is to help out and protect as many Karas as we can, but also to protect the multiverse from rogue Karas or rogue Lenas that might breach the barriers between universes.”

“I’m assuming that’s to prevent wars between timelines.”

938 shook her heads. “No. Not long after I started traveling I had… an experience. I only vaguely remember it but there were these yellow aliens and they told me that we had to protect the branches from each other so that some kind of corruption won’t reach what they called the ‘core world’ or the ‘Ab-Juda-Earth.’ The multiverse needs superheroes. We have to exist to keep it alive.”

“So you’re here to help the cyborg?”

“Both of them.”

“You know,” said Lena. “The cyborg Kara mentioned something about yellow aliens when I first met her, but I didn’t think to ask-“

“She’s awake!” The cyborg was saying. “She’s awake, let me see her!”

Lena turned and found both her Kara and Diana holding the cyborg back.

“Shut off the Ray,” Diana commanded.

Once it was off, the pair released the cyborg. She lunged across the space, limping as her metal foot clacked on the floor, slowing as she reached the bier.

“Kara?”

Lena watched, 998 standing next to her. The cyborg kept her distance, suddenly apprehensive. The other Lena slowly sat up, finally prompting the cyborg to move.

“Lena?” she rasped.

The other Lena- thinner, visibly older with strands of gray shot through her hair, smiled and cupped the fleshy side of Kara’s face with her hand.

“You found me.”

“I found you. My love. My zhao. My red sunrise. I found you.”

“It’s going to be alright, baby,” said the other Lena. “I can fix you up. I’ll make you better.”

The cyborg took a deep, rasping breath, closed her eyes, and collapsed to the floor in a boneless heap.

“Move!” 938 shouted. “We don’t have time, we have to help her now. Princess, I need to jump my ship into your airspace. Please.”

“Who are you? What’s happening?” the other Lena demanded.

“Trust us, please,” said Lena. “You’re among friends here and we want to help you.”

938 was speaking into her watch.

“I need you now, hurry.”

Outside, a booming shockwave sent a blast of air through the open, airy temple, almost gusting Lena off her feet. Her Kara steadied her, then lifted her cyborg counterpart gently in her arms.

“Get her aboard my ship,” said 998.

[elswhore]

𝐏. 𝐁 ─── I LOVED YOU WITH A FIRE RED.

you ended the no-string relationship with her, genuinely growing tired of, but you are unaware that she was already falling inlove, it was all too late for her.

angst. unrequirted love. fuck buddies. late realization

masterlist ۶ৎ navigation ۶ৎ

The bed creaked beneath you, the rhythm of her thrusts steady but mechanical, paige’s hands gripped your hips, her strap on sliding deep inside you, each movement precise but lacking the fire it once held.

your legs were spread wide, thighs trembling, but your mind was elsewhere, you stared at the ceiling, tracing cracks that weren’t there, your body present but your heart a thousand miles away.

you’d been fuck buddies for six months, a deal struck after one drunken night when her lips found yours at a party.

it was supposed to be fun, no strings, just skin on skin, pleasure for pleasure, but you fucked up.

you fell for her. hard.

the way she’d smirk after making you come, the way she’d pull you close, letting you pretend for a moment it was more—it all burrowed into you.

you started wanting her in ways she didn’t want you, you dreamed of mornings tangled in sheets, of her calling you hers, of building something real.

but paige was clear from the start “i dont do relationships, this is just us having fun, yeah?”

you tried to play along, swallowing your feelings like bitter pills, you let her fuck you in her dorm, in your apartment, in the backseat of her car, each time hoping she’d see the way your eyes lingered, the way you held her a little too tight.

you’d whisper her name like a prayer, hoping she’d hear the love in it, but she never did, she’d just kiss you hard, fuck you harder, and leave you to pick up the pieces of your heart alone.

tonight, though, something was different, your body responded your clit throbbed with each grind of her hips, your walls clenched around the silicone but your mind was numb.

you felt her breath hot against your neck, her teeth grazing your collarbone as she thrust deeper, the slick sound of your arousal filling the room.

but it wasn’t enough, it hadn’t been for a while.

“hey,” paige’s voice cut through, sharp with concern.

she slowed, then stopped, the strap still buried inside you, her hands slid up to your waist, and she propped herself up, blonde hair falling messily over her shoulders.

“you okay? you’re… not here.” you blinked, pulling yourself back to the moment.

her eyes searched yours, and for a second, you saw something—worry, maybe even softness.

it made your chest ache, but it also made you angry, why did she care now? you pushed yourself up on your elbows, then sat up fully, forcing her to pull out.

the emptiness left behind mirrored the one in your heart. “i can’t do this anymore” you said, voice low but steady, though your throat burned with hesitation.

you wanted to take it back the second it left your lips, but you couldn’t.

you wouldn’t, paige froze, the strap glistening between her thighs, her hands hovering like she didn’t know where to put them.

“what? What do you mean?” you swung your legs over the side of the bed, grabbing a sheet to cover yourself, suddenly feeling too exposed.

“this, us. whatever the fuck this is. im done.” her brow furrowed, and she shifted closer, still kneeling on the bed.

“hold on, whats going on? did i do something wrong?” you laughed, bitter and hollow.

“no, paige, you didn’t do anything wrong, yhat’s the problem, you’re exactly who you said you were, but im not. i wanted more. i wanted you. not just your body, not just this.”

you gestured vaguely at the rumpled sheets“i wanted us to be real, but you don’t want that, you never did.” her lips parted, but no words came out.

you saw the flicker in her eyes, the way her hands twitched like she wanted to reach for you, but she didn’t, and that silence it was louder than anything she could’ve said.

“i love you” she blurted suddenly, the words clumsy and desperate, they hung in the air like a guillotine.

you stared at her, disgust curling in your gut, not because you didn’t believe her—god, a part of you wanted to—but because it felt like a cheap shot, a last ditch effort to keep you tethered.

“don’t.” you spat, standing now, clutching the sheet tighter.

“don’t you fucking dare say that now, you don’t get to pull that card when im walking away.” paige’s face crumpled, and for the first time, you saw her look small.

But it was too late, you’d spent months bleeding for her, pouring your heart into someone who only wanted your body.

you weren’t going to let her rewrite the story now. “im serious” she said, voice shaking.

“i didn’t realize it before, but—”

“Stop.” you cut her off, your voice like steel. “you don’t love me, paige. you love the idea of me sticking around, being your good little fuck buddy who’s always there when you need a release. but I’m not that person anymore.”

she flinched, and you saw tears well in her eyes, but you didn’t soften, you couldn’t.

you grabbed your clothes from the floor, pulling them on with shaking hands, paige didn’t move, just watched, her chest rising and falling unevenly.

you could feel the weight of her regret, thick and suffocating, but she didn’t say it, she didn’t admit she’d started feeling something, that she’d been too scared to face it until you were slipping through her fingers.

instead, she let the silence speak for her, and it screamed of everything she’d failed to give you.

when you were dressed, you turned to her one last time. “take care, paige” you said, voice flat, final.

she stood, fumbling to unstrap the harness, pulling on her own clothes in a rush. “wait” she said, but you were already at the door. Sl

she followed you out, barefoot, into the cold night air, the street was quiet, the rain from earlier leaving puddles that reflected the streetlights.

you didn’t look back, but you heard her footsteps stop a few paces behind you.

paige stood there, hands shoved in her pockets, hair damp from the misty air, she wanted to run after you, to that she was sorry, that she’d been an idiot, that she’d fallen for you without knowing how to say it.

but the words stuck in her throat, choked by her own fear and the disgust in your eyes when she’d tried to say she loved you.

she’d fucked it all up, and now you were gone, your back a fading silhouette in the dark.

she turned, kicking a pebble into a puddle, the splash the only sound in the empty street.

regret clawed at her, raw and relentless, she’d had you—your heart, your body, your everything—and she’d thrown it away because she was too cowardly to face what she felt.

now, she was the one walking away, alone, carrying the weight of what could’ve been, the love she’d realized too late to save.

and you? you kept walking, tears burning your eyes but refusing to fall, you’d loved her with everything you had, and it hadn’t been enough.

but you were done breaking your own heart for someone who couldn’t hold it, the night swallowed you both, two shattered pieces drifting further apart.

۶ৎ — @addl0vee @mrsarnold @melpthatsme @bellaprintz25 @janaelalfysblunt @ellehoops @belsoulss @apbueckers @uwupaige @janaelalfysloml @azzisbueckers @paigeluvvr @giavonnii @jupitermoonbaby @shootingstarrrrr @dalilahissilly @luldejamleer @d7dream @gabbyygoo @bravemode @latenighttalkinqwp @avvwritesstufff @prettygirl-gabi @yailtsv @bebitts @heartsforari @usuallyshadowybasement @authentic-girl03 @private-but-not-a-secret @evanpeterstoe @destinybueckers44 @youmeandjennessey @starfulani @cherryswisherz @bueckersworld @paiges-1vur

[shenanigarson]

It's even worse when you consider that anything can be an ad. Anything.

The clothes on your back? Branded. (Usually aggressively). Think about your jeans. Notice the patch on the waistband? Or your average t-shirt. Unless you go out of your way to consistently wear bland solid colored shirts- there's almost always a pattern or graphic on there. Usually said graphic is a popular brand name, logo, or a character of sorts.

Talking about media you love? Yeah babe, that's free advertising for said media. Games, movies, TV, even musical theater, They didn't pay you to talk about it, but you'll yap anyway because you love it. They love that shit. Word of mouth is just another way of saying "free advertising"

For those of us that partake- weapons. (Yeah. Weapons.) Usually have the maker's name plastered EVERYWHERE. I get it helps for maintenance reasons, but you don't need the name slapped on there 5 or 6 different places. I've seen archery sets where the brand name is labeled all up and down the curve of the bow, the wrist strap, the arrows, and on the carrying case. Not very discreet. Like at all.

Your devices also have the brand somewhere on them. And in some countries- a service provider will have an animation in your startup screen. Every time you turn the device on. Even if you have a case on it, the case is most likely branded too, unless it's mass market dropshipped, or custom made- but that's a whole other can of worms for another day.

Oh babey speaking of devices- STICKERS. Sometimes a new device will come with branded stickers. Half the time they end up in the trash anyway, but they still include the stickers in the packaging. They want you to plaster your shit with their name so you can advertise for them. You paid them, for you to advertise about them.

Ads for the same brand will appear in your own device. There's no way to turn it off. Just today I got an ad in my notifications from the brand my phone was made by. Guess what? It was for their newest model. Funny how that works.

On this silly goofy fandom discourse hellsite- it's especially prevalent. Fandom is inherently advertising. fics, cosplay, fanart, discussions, music, all of it. But do we notice or talk about it? Nope. Because we genuinely care about The Things We Like™

I personally bought the premium service for a certain play button shaped video platform back in 2019- and I still pay for it today despite the price tag for watching without interruptions. Why? imagine you're absolutely vibing to one of your all time favorite playlists, finally a chance to relax and be chill for a bit after a long day where all you wanted to do was just listen to your music and zone out, mayhaps even some delicious maladaptive daydreaming- or a new video from someone you like just released and you want to watch it when out of nowhere in the middle of their sentence;

"DIAPERS FOR THE BABY YOU'RE NEVER GONNA HAVE! PILLS WITH SIDE EFFECTS THAT'LL DEFINITELY KILL YOU! VOTE FOR [Politician]! KEEP [Politician] OUT OF OFFICE! A CAR YOU'LL NEVER AFFORD! A PRODUCT YOU'LL NEVER WANT TO SEE AGAIN AFTER WE SHOW IT TO YOU 50 TIMES!"

etc...etc...

you can't tell me that whatever good mood you might have been in wouldn't be absolutely destroyed and beaten over the head with a stick by the time whatever was interrupted came back.

(also the fact that commercials are always louder than the actual thing you wanted to watch, thus forcing you to listen to them unless you mute it, but again- a conversation for another day.)

OP is right. You can't turn two inches without an ad slapping you in the face and obnoxiously asking (or even demanding) your money. The Corporations™ have us all under their thumbs and won't let us up.

Something so profoundly fucked up between the inverse ratio of shrinking middle class and ever increasing aggression of advertisement