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syneilesis · 5 months

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[fic] if only for a moment

if only for a moment

Love and Deepspace | Rafayel (Qi Yu) x Main-Character!Reader | T | 3.6k words | ao3 link (with correct formatting)

Rafayel waits. And waits. And waits.

A/N: Another LaD fic!! This time it's Rafayel. Several elements of this fic are inspired by and loosely based on his story anecdotes and bond story, plus that Deep Sea card line backdrop. So more spoilers in this one, I'm afraid. I think you need to be aware of them in order to follow the flow of the fic. But if not, here's what you need to know: basically Rafayel accepts a visiting professorship at the University of Linkon to reunite with the MC/you. And the prose poetry interspersed are loosely situated in the Deep Sea card lineup setting (you can search in YouTube for the scenes. This one is a brief glimpse of the scene). That princess/knight(??) dynamic is yum yum.

If possible, please read the version on AO3. I formatted the prose poems there as if they're really prose poetry, so I'd appreciate it if you check that out. (Though there isn't too much difference between the formatting here and there, I did make the effort of coding a little 🥺)

Anyhoo, hope you enjoy, and I am sO STOKED FOR THE OFFICIAL RELEASE. rip my wallet 💸😭

JUST LOOK AT THIS MAN AND BELIEVE

There’s a type of berry in a distant land that produces a rare shade of ink that matches the color of your eyes. It takes a hundred of them to create the right hue and volume for the art that he wants to make. It comes to him in a dream: endless desert, then fireworks of verdant sparks that coalesce into stem, leaf, and, finally, fruit. Rafayel remembers that land, so much different from the iridescent blue of ocean underwater, and the acrid gold of the barren desert. His mouth filled with the succulent sweetness of the dream, the lingering sandpaper roughness of the berries on his fingers. He already knows the name of the artwork even before he’s begun—Waiting, Missing. The ache in his bones gaining form, an intangible thing taking flesh.

Under the ocean surface, time is muted, a deafening thickness that surrounds you with its ambiguity. On land, however, it is linear, and fast, and in a matter of blinks, Rafayel’s visiting professorship nearly wraps up.

He’s only glimpsed you once or twice. Thrice at most. The university is big, but not big enough to warrant a dearth of fateful encounters. The first time he saw you it was at a coffee shop: walking along with your friends outside, your voice mellifluous and festive wafting through the trellis of the café entrance. You were talking about him—well, about Lemuria to be specific, but these days any talk of Lemuria inevitably draws in his name.

He’s committed your schedule to memory, and yet it just seems impossible to capture a moment with you. Even just a brush of shoulders, or of sleeves—an asymptote of contact. Just navigating around your orbit, but never truly meeting.

What would it be like—finally talking to you? You in front of him, face to face? Rafayel imagines the ache of waiting fading into the background until it’s completely gone. He yearns for that feeling, the release of it. A conclusion—or maybe even a beginning.

i. take my hand, he told you under the glow of the lustrous moon, the only source of light that contoured the secretive valleys of his face. i want to show your highness something. there was a country, he said, beyond the undulating monochrome of the desert, blanketed by lush trees and shrubberies and flowers that buildings were made in betwixt and around them—a nation of trailing and winding architecture, a marriage of the natural and the manmade. you wanted to ask why he’d planned on taking you there, and the only answer you got was a curt turn of his head and the profile of a masked man layered by shadows and distance. it would have been nice, you thought, if the moon poured light upon his hooded gaze.

Eventually he begins to frequent the café. Twice a week at first—he doesn’t want to come off strong right away, of course—and then making his way up until he’s hanging out there more than his own studio. He schedules his visits around your classes, always during the ones when the probability of you dropping by the café is high and he can ‘coincidentally’ be around the same area. It’s gotten to a point that Thomas calls him out on it, and nags at him to focus more on his painting. The next exhibit is immediately after his visiting professorship after all.

“From where I’m standing,” Thomas says, “you’re not painting at all.”

Rafayel ignores him.

Five minutes later, he says, “Not painting is part of the painting process.”

Thomas rolls his eyes, but he leaves him to it.

At the café, Rafayel attracts curious looks. A few attempt to approach him, but he pretends not to see them. They linger around the periphery, like moths to flame.

And then something happens: the entrance door chimes, and you swan into the coffee shop, earphones and denim overall skirt, the kind of rosy-cheeked image Rafayel finds on teen magazines, wide-eyed and earnest. You fall in line and order when it’s your turn, and your eyes sweep across the packed café searching for a vacant seat until they finally land on him.

Rafayel’s heart stumbles.

Up close, the baby fat on your cheeks still gives you the appearance of being younger than you actually look. You turn a polite smile his way, and his heart stutters again—but this time it is taken as a warning.

“Hi,” you say, tentative. Any hint of recognition absent. “Do you mind if I sit here?”

ii. you're counting the steps of your inevitable parting. you're at the edge of the desert, far away from your home and its familiar scents, oriented towards a direction that promised a future sad memory, the gentle warmth of his hand, the downward denial of his gaze. this longing that grew out of your bones, aching during cold, aching during heat, aching when he looked at you with such tenderness he had to hide it through the sharp tug of your joined hands, the long strides that opened up a lonely distance. intimacy was dangerous, knowing was dangerous, the bowels of his heart like a solitary flower on a high peak. what would you do to such loneliness?

Memory isn't always an infallible thing. The human brain cannot hang on to every moment of your life, though Rafayel wishes it were so. But still—to think that you would forget him, and it hasn’t even been a century. You were like a phantom thief stealing his heart in the night—no recourse, no resolution.

To wait is to be in agony, the burn of yearning locked within the heart. Rafayel has been waiting for a long time, and the only memory scorched in his heart is fire, the blaze and its blinding, all-consuming want.

What would you do to such want?

You have a blurry childhood, Rafayel discovers. After the first Wanderer descended on Earth, the incident strummed your memories like a stringed instrument that tired of the same chord, over and over. It had bothered you at first—not being in control of your own memories—but eventually you had learned to live with it.

“Grandma and Caleb—my childhood friend—helped me through the process,” you tell him, stirring your iced mocha with its straw. “I owe them a lot.”

Eyes cast down, but still the melancholy shadows remain in your expression. Rafayel folds his arms on the table, and leans closer.

Around them only a few people occupy the coffee shop at this time. How fortunate for Rafayel to catch you during your break while every other student is trapped in class lectures.

“There’s no use in dwelling upon what's already happened. Even sharks have to give up when their prey escapes. When you remember, it will be all the more joyous, no?”

The smile you give him is crooked, disbelieving.

“If I remember.”

“You’ll remember.” Because there’s no other choice, for you and for him. Rafayel cannot bear being shelved in the history of your smile and happiness. Waiting can only be endurable if there’s an endpoint.

In his studio, Rafayel begins his next painting.

iii. the berries tasted sweet, with an edge of sourness that clung to the bottom of the tongue. it had the exact shade of your eyes, a detail that rafayel brought up the moment he plucked it from the shrub. raising it to align with your eyes, comparing them with his artist's meticulous gaze. maybe when this is all over, i'll go back here again to extract ink from these berries, and paint a portrait of your highness using these to color your eyes. he never showed you any of his paintings, merely mentioned them in passing, and you constructed a dream of him from the throwaway words that left his covered lips. i'm not used to sitting for so long, you reminded him, and he glanced at you, then at the berry between his fingers. my memory is enough, then handed you the fruit.

In the few weeks of meeting with you Rafayel forgets that his visiting professorship is ending soon and he has to give out his last lecture. Thomas had asked him what his topic would be. At that point Rafayel had no answer. But now he has.

“I’ve been hearing you talk about Lemuria every now and then with your friends.” He props his cheek on his hand, tilting his head slightly and giving you a charming smile. “Interested?”

You blink. “How did you know?”

“Oh, I’ve seen you a couple of times here, and I happened to hear your friends chat about my lecture. Your points were almost accurate, I’m in awe.”

“The visiting professor—that’s you?!”

Rafayel pauses, the slosh of his drink nearly spilling on his frozen hand.

“You didn’t know?”

Sheepish, you say, “Honestly, I didn’t make the connection. Is that why plenty of people have been glaring at me as of late?”

He releases a frustrated sigh, eyes rolling heavenward.

“In any case, my final lecture is on Friday next week. It’s titled “Memory and Meaning in Lemurian Art”. Why don’t you drop by and listen, and you can tell me what you think afterwards.”

You retrieve your bullet journal to check your schedule. It’s colorful, filled with stickers and doodles that Rafayel finds endearing. Then the excited moue on your face drops into a frown, and Rafayel can foresee the next words that will come out of your downturned lips.

“I’m sorry,” you say guiltily, “but I have a major test that day, and I need to get a high score in order to pass the course.”

Rafayel exhales, long and weary, but ultimately shrugs off the apology. “What a shame, but I forgive you. Just don’t fail your exam or else my magnanimity would be all for nothing.”

He calls Thomas that night.

“I’ll disappear for a while once the professorship is over.”

“Hey, wait, what do you me—”

“You’ll be happy to know that this is for my next painting.”

A beat. “Okay … but for how long?”

“That’s the question, isn’t it?”

Then he hangs up.

He’s trying, he really does. The lecture ends to a resounding applause, and it’s mechanical how he answers the questions posed by the audience. But he’s trying, he’s trying. There’s no specter of you in the sea of faces in the auditorium. You’re at the other end of the university compound, sweating your way through your exam. He genuinely hopes you’d pass, for your sake.

Thomas had booked his flight to another country, where he’ll traverse to a land that he’d visited many times in his dreams and had woken up with a filmy, sweet-sour tang at the roof of his mouth. He’ll leave the morning after the closing dinner party the faculty has prepared for him. There isn’t time to pack much, and no time to tell you goodbye.

Rafayel guesses that it’s only fair: how would you feel waiting for him at that café, the chair across you empty, only the sunlight pooling from the window as your companion?

iv. parting, somebody once said, is such a sweet sorrow. much like those berries in that ever-green nation, a lingering sourness remained underneath, the sting of it reminding you every now and then. he was already mourned for even before he left. tell me what it's like—the ocean. he was elusive, untouchable in his grief. you'd heard through whispers, the story of his migration, the drowning before the drying, the unwanted journey. grief brought him to you and grief would steal him away from you, you knew, down to the cells of your body and the hopelessness in your blood. —and yet. and yet you wanted to have a taste of it, anyway.

The ever-green land is no longer green, or lush, or alive. Time corroded it into memory, sepia-faded, wizened. Past. The berries he’s searching for don’t grow here anymore. Everything here is empty, barren, helplessly so.

Rafayel hasn’t accounted for such development, but he should have known. Disappointment stings at his chest, and bitterly he turns away and stays at the next town over. At a family-run restaurant situated near the outskirts, he looks over the wide windows, across the highway road, beyond the jagged horizon. The painting won’t be finished, then. Another tragedy, pressed flat next to the forgetting, to the waiting, and his home.

The chef personally serves him his order and, after a shuffle of hesitation, brings up a question.

“Young man, you came from the direction of the old country, yeah?”

Rafayel meets his inquisitive gaze. “Yes, why?”

“It’s been a while since we had someone visiting that place. There’s nothing in there anymore, it’s been that way for years. Why did you go there?”

Rafayel is reluctant to say, but at the guileless set of the older man’s face, he concedes.

“I was looking for berries. The ones native there. They produce a shade that I need for my painting.”

At the mention of the fruit, the chef’s expression lights up. “Oh! I see, I see. You’re in luck, son. We grow them here at the farm. Plenty of those for everyone. How about I give you some? It’s rare meeting someone who still remembers the old country, it’s almost fate. How many did you say you need?”

Fate. Just like the time of your first meeting, as if the universe had gifted you to him. Just like the time of your parting, of your forgetting, of his waiting. Fate as a connection from you to him, red and burning brightly.

He doesn’t want to seem eager, but he knows he’s failed from the way the chef toothily grins at him.

“A hundred or so.”

The chef falters at that, jerking slightly back. But he accepts it with a nod, an avuncular smile making its way across his kind, powdery features.

“That sure is a huge number, but I think we can work something out.”

His painting takes a month to complete, inclusive of the time spent making the ink from the acquired berries. Sometimes, Thomas watches him paint, quiet in the background. His stays usually don’t last—a quick flash that Rafayel nearly misses, or deliberately ignores. But during the final stages of the painting process, Thomas hands him the exhibit details.

“I’m just thankful you’re on time for this one.” He sighs, relieved, then leaves.

Alone, Rafayel creates. Brushstroke after careful brushstroke, each varying by pressure and angle. He lets each layer of paint dry before moving onto the next. The berry ink—the color of your eyes—the solely different element of this painting. Center, central. The focal point. The beating heart. The years and years of waiting and longing. The form and the flesh. Alive.

This, too, is an endpoint.

v. can i see your face, just this once? your hands grazed his mask like a ghost wanting to touch. rafayel stayed still beneath your desirous fingers, observing, waiting, his own fingers twitching towards his dagger. even in the parting he could not let go of this distance. hopeless, hopeless. your highness would get nothing out of seeing my face. he's wrong, his eyes never left your face, and he's wrong. he didn't stop you from your grasping of his mask, and him—finally—bare and beautiful yet a little sad. you're wrong, you said, tracing his slightly parted lips with a trembling finger, you're wrong. it is everything to me.

The gallery is packed. No surprise there. It’s almost boring, in a way. Waiting, Missing hangs at the farthest hall in the floor, special and intimate as it should be. Thomas knows him well; otherwise, Rafayel would have whined at him to hell and back just so he could be granted this demand that is in reality a mandate.

He’s hiding from the throngs of journalists and art critics alike and sequesters himself in a corner that has a clear view of the painting. Loosening his collar and tie, Rafayel breathes and closes his eyes, leans tiredly against the wall. A few more minutes, and he’ll slink out of the building, reputation be damned.

He melts into the shadows whenever somebody passes by. He has neither time nor energy interacting with people today. Watching them through half-mast eyes, Rafayel stays in his secret place and studies with weightless detachment the people looking at the painting.

He’s made a bet with himself about the opinions of his followers and admirers. Who thinks what and why. It makes for great entertainment. The last time, a fresh-faced critic praised Rafayel’s technique as “innovative and a soul-rending reflection of the prodigy’s character.” He had laughed and laughed for hours until he couldn’t breathe any longer.

Another walks by, and before Rafayel retreats further into the corner, he glimpses a familiar gait and a familiar face.

His heartbeat races. He’s never told you that he’s holding an exhibit today. After the professorship Rafayel failed to maintain communication with you, convincing himself that it’s for the best that he protect you from afar that day onwards. It didn’t help that he had to leave as well. At the same time, you never made an effort of reaching out, and Rafayel thought that it was back to square one again, that waiting, that yearning.

But here you are right now, elegantly dressed, like someone gliding out of a dream. Rafayel swallows, his hands shake. You do not have someone else with you, and your eyes are brightly focused on Waiting, Missing, and for a fleeting moment your expression flickers into longing, strange and old and battered and sad, that it compels Rafayel to take a step forward—to you.

“Hey.”

The curious look vanishes; left no traces in your delighted face, as if it wasn’t there in the first place. “Rafayel!” you exclaim. “Long time no see! Congratulations on the exhibit; these are all beautiful.”

Outwardly he smirks, belying the torrential emotions he’s currently going through. He cants his head a little, works his charm on you. “Impressed? No need to hold back your compliments.”

Laughter, prismatic and crystalline. “Yes, yes. Especially this one—Waiting, Missing. What an interesting title. At the center, what paint did you use?”

Ah. Rafayel inhales before answering. “It’s actually ink. I had to make it from a hundred berries. It was a tedious process, but I wouldn’t use anything else. It has to be this, you see.”

“Whoa, no wonder you’d been radio silent all this time. You were creating this masterpiece.”

He hums, afraid that, if he speaks, he’d reveal too much.

“Well …” You throw a playful glance at him. “Shouldn’t we celebrate your success?”

His breath catches. “I—”

Before he manages to finish the sentence, a journalist calls out to him and that summons plenty more, swarming him with no chance of escape. It pushes you out of his peripheral vision, and Rafayel wants to shout your name, but you smile and gesture at him to entertain them first. You mouth, I’ll be back, and wander around other paintings some more.

When he finally succeeds in shaking the journalists off, he seeks you out and stumbles upon you near the exit, where there’s fewer people to pile on him.

“Excellent,” he says, sidling up beside you. You turn to him and smile, and there’s that lightning-flash of something again. For one unbelievably surreal instant, Rafayel thinks that despite your hazy memories, maybe you’d been waiting for him all this time, too.

And that thought emboldens him, moving closer and closer until your bodies almost touch. An asymptote of contact. But this time, he has mustered the courage to close that unbridgeable gap.

Rafayel offers you his hand. “Let’s get out of here?”

You stare at his hand then at his face, his eyes, and a meaningful moment stretches between you and him. But even before the idea of retracting enters his mind, you grab his hand joyfully, grinning ear to ear. His heart warms, full with everything.

You squeeze his hand, ready to go. “Lead the way, then!”

vi. a kiss is a greeting and a goodbye, and rafayel tasted of ferocious tides even if you'd seen them only in dreams. his eyes closed, as though savoring his last moments with you, guarded till the bitter end. would that i could ask you to stay—with me. but he shook his head—a final rejection. maybe in another life. there was nobody to watch you cry, in the after.

Rafayel is working on a new painting—a portrait this time. The model squirms on his couch, obvious about the discomfort of posing for too long. He huffs a laugh to himself, hidden by the canvas strategically placed between them.

“I heard that,” you grumble.

“Shush, you’re breaking my concentration.”

“If that already breaks your focus then I pity the rest of the art community.” A beat, then: “Is it done?”

“Patience, my dear muse. You need endure it a little more.”

“Hmph, fine. But after this you’re treating me to an all-you-can-eat buffet.”

“All right, all right.” He shakes his head, fond. “My muse, so demanding.”

Something sweet touches the edge of his tongue, succulent with a hint of tartness. Like longing. Except now, it’s layered with something new and exciting. Something like a new beginning.

In the far distance, the sea murmurs, lit fire by the setting sun.

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace fic #lad rafayel #lad qi yu #love and deepspace rafayel #love and deepspace qi yu #fic #my fic #rafayel x reader #qi yu x reader #lad rafayel x reader #lad qi yu x reader #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace spoilers #it's near midnight again i shall now sleep

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jazzthatonewriterchick · 5 months

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The Greatest Gift of All (JJK Men x Black!Fem!Reader 18+ One Shot)

"How’s this for a Christmas gift, hm?"

Pairing: JJK Men x Black!Fem!Reader

Synopsis: In which your friends take it upon themselves to help you release your inner slut by taking you to a glory hole for the first time to get you some dick for Christmas. Many of them.

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINORS GTFO); Dubcon/R*pe (to be safe); Reader is Fem; Reader is Black-coded; Reader Has Breasts/ Pussy/Brown Nipples/Thick Thighs/Curves; Gloryhole; Deepthroating; Face-Fucking; Hair-Pulling; SLOPPY Blowjobs & Cunnilingus; Fingering; Anal Play/Anal; Ripping Clothes; Some Dacryphilia; Unprotected PIV Sex; Creampies; Bukkake; Consensual Gangbang; Petnames; Degradation; Praise; Aftercare

Petnames According to Characters:

Gojo: Cutie

Geto: Baby Doll

Nanami: Darling

Sukuna: Princess

Choso: Mama

Mahito: Kitty

Toji: Little Girl

Shiu: Pretty Girl

Ino: Sugar

Todo: Gorgeous

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

*IMPORTANT DISCLAIMER: Regarding the "dubcon/r*pe" warning, while the reader does consent to a gangbang, there are parts in this one shot where she does not VERBALLY consent to different, sexual things done to her, BUT does enjoy them.

Writer’s Note: MERRY (early) CHRISTMAS, YA FILTHY SLUTS!! I'm wine drunk & going to bed. Brace yourselves. This one is very long & VERY nasty. Enjoy & stay sexy! Love you! -Jazz

*********

You stand in front of the strange building with its glowing, neon sign pointing down the stairwell beneath the building, staring at them like they’re the gates leading straight to Hell.

“You’ve got to be fuckin’ joking,” you whisper to yourself.

You turn to your friends who excitedly stare at you under the glowing street lamps, their excited breaths leaving their mouths in puffs of air in the cold December night. “This was your gift to me for Christmas?!” you squeak. “A glory hole?! You brought me to a fuckin’ glory hole of all places?!”

“Surprise!” Shoko shouts while Mai excitedly giggles. Beside her, Maki just looks ready to get inside somewhere and get warm, hugging herself in her waistcoat. “We said we were taking you to one of the greatest places on Earth,” Shoko continues, puffing on her cigarette in her red coat and nylon stockings.

You would’ve thought judging from her outfit, along with the rest of the girls’, that you were going to a nightclub after dinner, which was what the girls originally told you they were taking you to before mentioning taking you to “the greatest place on Earth”. They left you complete in the dark during the car ride here, and now you understand why. “Shoko, one of the greatest places on Earth is Disney World or a spa. Nothing a damn glory hole. Like…I can’t even believe this.”

You press your hands to your temples, rubbing them as if that will help this unbelievable situation process quicker. Mai giggles in between Shoko and her sister in her faux fur coat, her glossy lips curled into a smile. “Believe it, baby,” she chuckles. “We brought you here as a way to show you that we appreciate you. It’s the best Christmas gift we could come up with for you.”

You gape at her. “You seriously couldn’t have came up with something else to get me? Like a bag or even a vacation? This is what you decided on?” You motion to the building, exasperated. “I would’ve even had taken a club hop and dinner, which I thought y’all were taking me to!”

That was the whole reason why you dressed up in your best sexy clothes for tonight: a mini dress that hugs your curves and ass, and makes your skin pop with its bright color (you wanted to catch eyes tonight); nylon stockings that stick to your shapely legs and thick thighs; a push-up bra to show off your breasts to every eligible, sexy guy on the street; rhinestone heels that you can still walk and dance in. You did your hair, letting your braids/twists/coils/curls down to bounce around your face that Mai perfected for you with eyeshadow, blush, and Fenty Gloss to make your plump lips look even more appetizing.

Now you’re getting the feeling that Mai only did your makeup just so it can be ruined in here.

“And we still will!” Shoko protests. “Honey, no way am I giving up on that hibachi dinner. And if you’re still in the mood and got all your energy after this, we can go clubbing. The night is still young, girl!”

“Plus, the clubs don’t open till about 8,” Maki chimes in, hugging herself tight in her black coat. She’s still wearing her glasses despite her eyes coated in dark eyeshadow and sharp eyeliner. “We’ve got an hour till then.” You stare at her, wanting to throw a tantrum. “You’re not supposed to chime into this, Maki,” you groan. “You’re supposed to be the sensible one!”

“She’s the one who had the idea,” Mai giggles. “My sister can be such a slut sometimes.” She bumps her hip with Maki’s, making the long-haired girl blush behind her spectacles. “Stop,” she whines. “And logically speaking, the best cure for winter blues and burnout is sex. It’s scientifically proven.”

You squint at her, not believing a word she says. “Is it though?” you argue. Maki just shrugs, not denying or arguing back. “I mean, how did you even find this place?”

“It’s been here for a hot minute,” Shoko explains. “Plenty of young, tender folks like us venture in and out of here for a quickie. I’ve been going here for the longest ‘cause it makes for a great spot for a no-strings-attached, hot, anonymous sex.” She gives you a wink that makes your stomach churn. “And it’s a reverse glory hole too, meaning you can get your nut as well as give someone else theirs.”

You stare at your friends and then at the blinking neon sign pointing down the staircase like it descends into Hell. You can hardly imagine yourself walking in there in your mini dress and heels, looking all pretty, only to be wrecked by the strangers wandering in and out of the dark that you don’t even know. Let alone their faces! You step away from your friends then, putting your hands out to stop them from coming near you.

“No,” you firmly say. “No way am I going in there. I’d rather go to the club and fuck somebody in the bathroom than do this.”

As soon as you say it, you know that it is the wrong thing to say. Shoko raises a questionable eyebrow at you. “So what’s the difference between fuckin’ a guy in a nightclub bathroom and fuckin’ a guy at a glory hole? Either way, you don’t know the dude!”

You flush embarrassingly, knowing that she’s right. “And each guy that comes in is tested and has background checks, so no weird shit,” Mai adds. “Don’t worry; we’ll show you everything once we get in.” She goes to take your hand, but your hand goes slack, your fingers refusing to interlock with hers. Your stomach is churning like you’re about to vomit and you feel like you can’t breathe despite the frigid air surrounding you. “I'm sorry, girls, but I can’t. I’m gonna take an Uber back and–“

“The hell you are!” Shoko scoffs, glaring at you. “We paid $25 each to get you your own private room for an hour and you’re not about to waste this gift.” Maki huffs exhaustingly, visibly shivering in her coat. “Can we please just get out of the cold? I’m freezing my tits off at this point.”

You look back up at the glory hole sign, biting your lip. “I-I don’t know…” The truth is you do want to go in. You want to throw caution to the wind and experience what the girls are saying will get you out of your rut that has been bugging you since November came and hasn’t left since despite Christmas finally being here and all of that hard work (and money spent) being done. You’ve been working extra hard to rack up for Christmas gifts and save money, which means working extra hours at work and budgeting….even if that meant calling off plans with your friends and staying in.

It has made you extremely stressed and they say that sex is the best stress reliever. And you’ve wanted sex for the longest time. You want nothing more than to feel hands on your body; lips on yours; a thick, throbbing cock filling you up; someone taking care of you the way you can’t. The most you can do is use your fingers and sex toys that you keep close to you in your nightstand, and though it feels good, each orgasm has been feeling more unsatisfying than the last.

You need something more. Something intense. Explosive. You need your hair pulled and your ass spanked. You need your mouth filled as you’re told what a naughty slut and a good girl you are. But the idea of doing this with someone you barely know, let alone multiple men, makes you nervous.

Mai must sense your apprehension because you squeezes your hand tight. “Hey,” she says soothingly. “We know you’re apprehensive and we know you were looking to a normal gift and some food, but we only did this because we know how burnt out you’ve been lately. Every time we see you, you’ve got dark circles under your eyes and you’ve mentioned how you’ve been sleeping less and less.”

“And you cancel plans with us nowadays just to work,” Shoko adds.

“And you’ve mentioned before how you’re not dating,” Maki adds. “So that only adds more stress to you.” Maki eagerly nods. “It’s not good for the body or for her!” She nods down at your thighs and you flush harder, hugging your coat flaps together to hide yourself from review.

You know that they’re right. Dammit, all of them are! You’ve been noticing how haggard you’ve been looking and no kind of creams or vitamins are making it better. Not to mention how irritable you find yourself getting over minor shit, like a stain on your shirt or someone stepping in front of you in a line. While irritating, you find yourself wanting to flash out more and more. It doesn’t feel good, especially now that you know your friends have noticed it too.

Maki squeezes your shoulder comfortingly. “You’ve been working so hard, Y/N, and you deserve a reward for that. What better way to be rewarded than to get fucked by a bunch of sexy guys all at once?” She winks at you, giving you an encouraging smile. “Just trust us. We’d never steer you wrong. You’re going to love this!”

You, once again, gnaw on your bottom lip harshly. “Well…” You look at the sign and the steps again, wondering just what will await you once you venture down those steps. You don’t know what it is, maybe the comfort and encouragement sparkling in your friends’ eyes or the undeniable ache between your thighs, but you find yourself giving in to temptation and accepting their “gift” to you. “Okay,” you sigh. “Let’s go.”

Shoko and Mai let out a loud cheer while Maki sighs in relief, happy to finally be escaping the December cold. Maki hooks your arm through hers while Shoko practically drags to toward the staircase with its iron railing and concrete steps. You carefully step down each in your heels, your heart thundering in your chest the closer to get to the door to the secret club. Once you finally make it down the steps, Shoko knocks on the door thrice, causing a guard to emerge from inside. He eyes each of you curiously yet intimidatingly, towering over each of you.

“Hi, there!” Mai greets, giving him a finger waggle with her manicured nails. “We’re here for the party. Champagne floats.” At this, the guard gives a wordless nod and asks for your IDs to which you show him. Once he sees every single one, he steps away from the door and lets you inside. “Have fun,” he grumbles, humor in his tone despite his rough voice.

“Oh, we will,” Shoko chuckles. “Especially her.” She wraps an arm around you as she guides you inside the building which starts off as a dark hallway only lit by Christmas lights strewn along the walls as decoration, making your journey much more intense…and also exciting. With each click of your heel and your friends’ excited, hushed whispers, you can feel each emotion tighten into a ball inside of you, threatening to explode. When you finally reach the end of the hall, soft music with an R&B twang hits your ear as you come to the front desk where a young woman in a leather dress, piercings, and very nice breasts pushed up purposely high on her chest greets you four. “Welcome to the Underground,” she greets you in a sultry yet kind voice. “First time here?”

“Not for us,” Shoko explains, “but for her, yes. Go easy on this one.” She nudges you, earning a glare and a giggle from your friends. “That’s alright,” the desk clerk giggles. “I’ll show you around and how everything works around here. Just let me look up your name and what room you’ll have tonight.”

After looking up your name and finding your location, that being in the “master room” (whatever the fuck that means), she walks you and your friends down the endless hallway of doors. You believe you hear moans and lewd, wet sounds that remind you of unholy activities, but maybe that’s just your paranoia talking. The clerk brings you to a gorgeous foyer space with carpeted floors, arm chairs and a blazing fireplace. The atmosphere gives you a cozy yet sensual feeling.

“This is what we call the Master Hall,” the clerk explains. “It’s for renters with the most money, which means the rooms come with more complementary items, such as a shower, furniture, and drinks for hydration.” She walks over to one of the many doors surrounding the hall, using a key to unlock it.

“We’re just the peasants tonight,” Shoko whispers, earning giggles from the Zenin sisters.

The door is opened, revealing a beautiful and tasteful booth-like room (big enough to hold three people) that smells of lavender and vanilla. It comes with a shaggy carpet that sits between two armchairs, a loveseat, and a small table littered with mini water bottles, packages snacks, and a small tablet with its cord connected to a wall…a wall littered with holes. It is the same thing on the wall behind you.

Holes for cocks. Holes to fit your legs through for your own pleasure (including a bench for comfort). Holes to present your ass for the customer behind the wall.

You flush at the sight of them, swallowing harshly. It’s so hard not to stare at them, picturing yourself sticking your ass or pussy in one of them. Though lewd and dirty, it is also arousing. You can feel a warm tingle between your inner thighs at the sheer thought of a hot guy coming through, deciding your pussy is pretty enough, and fucking you until you’re a mess.

From here, the clerk shows everything you will need to know about your time here, including what each hole is used for and how to position yourself for comfort. She also gives you a rundown of the number one rule: “Consent is key, so if someone asks you to do something you’re not comfortable with and they refuse to respect your decision or feelings, you contact us immediately on the tablet and they’ll be escorted out.” You nod your head eagerly, putting that away for later. She smiles then, excitedly. “And that’s it! I hope you enjoy yourself, sweetie. Just give me a call if you need anything.” She gives you a wink before walking out of the room in her heels, leaving the door open just a smidge.

You look at the girls for comfort or encouragement, but they’re already heading out to give you your privacy. “We’ll be right next door if you need us, babe,” Mai says as she inches towards the door. You feel your stomach flip with fear at the idea of being left alone in such a strange place. “Wait,” you gasp. “Y’all are leaving me?”

Maki almost looks apologetic but even she doesn’t stop to stay. “Of course!” Shoko cackles. “After all, you’ll need the privacy. Have fun, girl.”

She gives you a wink before she shoos Maki and Mai out the door and closes it behind her, leaving you alone in the clean yet terrifying room with its damned holes. You feel yourself wanting to run out of the room and down the street to call a Lyft to take you home, but how would your friends react to that? They did use their own money for this. To bail now would make you feel guilty…

And also like you’d miss out on something. Something satisfying. Something that may fulfill you if you give it a try. Plus, the idea of the men who come in being checked previously before you “spend time with them” makes you feel even better about the whole situation. To calm yourself as you wait, take advantage of the offered drinks and snacks. As sit down in one of the armchairs and proceed to sip on a beer and chomp down on a bag of chips to push away the nagging anxiety, you hear a ding come from outside your room.

And then a knock along the wall facing you. Your heart nearly falls into your ass and you roughly swallow a chip. ‘One already?’ you think. You haven't even been here for twenty minutes…or have you? You haven’t been looking at the time.

“Hello over there?” a silky voice calls through the wall, startling you. “Anyone in there?” You find your voice failing you, even as the stranger knocks on the wall.

“Cut it out, Satoru,” another silkier yet deeper voice criticizes his partner. “Obviously, someone is there. She must be shy.”

“It’s okay, stranger,” Satoru, which is apparently his name, teasingly says. “We won’t bite…unless you want us to. Come over and introduce yourself. I know there’s a wall here, but still, we’d like to meet you.” You can hear the smile in his voice and the deep chuckle of his friend. Their voices are extremely attractive; the type that belong to two very attractive men. But are you to take on two men at the same time your first time here?

Deciding to throw caution to the wind, you slither off of the chair and crawl towards the two holes in the wall that the two strangers stand at. “Uh…h-hi,” you stutter. “It’s nice to meet you both.” You hear them both lightly laugh at the sound of your voice, making your stomach flip like a schoolgirl with a crush. “Nice to meet you too, cutie,” Satoru chuckles. “First time here, I’m guessing?”

“Does it show?” you sheepishly ask. You each chuckle, the tension ebbed somewhat. “This was a Christmas gift from my friends.” At this, both of them full on laugh. “To a glory hole?” Satoru guffaws. “Guess you really must’ve been needing it then, don’t you think, Suguru?”

His friend, Suguru, hums in agreement. “No shame in that,” he adds. “Sometimes, we all need a stress reliever. We come here just for that. I’m sure you need the same thing if you agreed to be here, right?” His tone has taken on a seductive purr that works on you shockingly well, making you shiver and shudder in delight.

“So you got a name?” Satoru asks randomly. The question is so simple but it startled you all the same. “Satoru,” Suguru growls in warning. “You know names are a forbidden topic here. Don't get us kicked out.”

“It’s okay,” you say abruptly, shocking yourself. “Y/N. My name is Y/N.”

Satoru hums, pleased with your obedience and name. “Cute name,” he comments. “But if you’re not comfortable with us usin’ your name, we can always use pet names. You okay with that?” You swear, you nearly gush in your undies at the mention of pet names. You’re a certified sucker for them. “Uh-huh,” you reply, nervously wriggling your fingers.

Satoru chuckles at your answer, whether out of humor or endearment, you have no idea. “Well, now that we’re all acquainted, do you mind if we fuck your throat for a little while, cutie?” he purrs. Before you can even utter an answer, two cocks are suddenly sliding their way through the two holes facing you. Your eyes widen at them and how big they are. While Satoru is on the thicker side and veinier with a clean cut of white pubic hairs, Suguru is much longer and curves upward, his pubics bare and completely shaven. “Go ahead, baby doll,” he coos. “Pick whoever you want. There’s no rush.”

“And if you pick this loser, just don’t leave me out,” Satoru adds, pouting. “You’ve got a free hand, don't ya, cutie?”

You stare at them for a moment longer, mouth agape and trembling. Can you really do this? Are you about to do this? You don't even know these men and you’re about to give them both blowjobs! You can hardly believe it. But at the same time, you’re relishing it. You feel a thrill shoot through you like being at the top of a rollercoaster before it hits that drop.

You first spit in your hand and rub both together to coat them in your saliva before you wrap them both around both cocks, stroking them up and down, testing out how they feel in your palms. They feel heavy like they could whack you in the face and possibly leave a mark. Soft moans and encouraging grunts leave their lips at the feeling of your soft, little hands stroking them. You become hypnotized by the shiny coat of your spit on their cocks and how your skin tone contrasts with their lighter skin–Satoru is paler while Suguru is a bit tanner.

Finding yourself salivating, you go for the real thrill seeker and lean in towards Suguru’s cock first as he is the longest one and may possibly hit the back of your throat. You wrap your lips around his head and begin to lightly suck him there before going deeper, pushing half of his shaft into your mouth while your hand strokes the other. His loud moan as soon as your wet mouth and tongue wrap around his cock is orgasmic, making that tingle between your inner thighs grow.

“Dammit,” Satoru growls, jealous that his friend gets your mouth before he does. “You lucky bastard.” Suguru begins to thrust his cock slowly into your mouth, sliding it along your tongue. “That’s it, baby doll,” he huffs. “Take me. You’re doing so well so far.” He takes a moment to slide out and slap his cock against your wet tongue before sliding back in, filling your mouth until he lightly hits the back of your throat.

Your throat flexes around him for a moment and you gag, not used to having such a large appendage in your mouth. And so deep! All you can taste and smell is him, his scent a mixture of cologne and lavender soap that seems to make you wetter. The sounds of his enjoyment only make you hornier and you find yourself swallowing his dick whole, ignoring the way your eyes sting with tears. "Fuck, your mouth feels heavenly, baby doll,” he groans. “I wish I could see the pretty face I’m fucking into.”

Satoru peers through the hole where he sees your glossy, plump lips wrapped around his friend’s dick, saliva dripping from your chin. “Just look at those lips!” He growls, almost animalistic. He begins to fuck your hand faster, picturing that it’s your mouth. Or, even better, your tight pussy. “So fuckin’ pretty wrapped around that big cock…we’ve gotta switch, Suguru, or else, I’m killing you.”

Suguru chuckles. “No need to get hostile, sir. Have at her, but don't get greedy.” He pulls out with a soft groan, slipping his cock out of your mouth. You take a moment to catch your breath before switching to Satoru who isn’t that gentle. As soon as he’s inside of your mouth, he is thrusting his entire cock into your throat, stroking the walls of your throat and filling your mouth up with nothing but him. You let out a squeal of protest as he goes too deep, making your gag reflex kick in, but as your throat flexes around him, he shudders with delight and pleasure. “Ohhh, shiiiit!” Satoru hisses. “You were right, man: her mouth is heavenly. God, her little throat is such a good cock sleeve.” He continues to thrust into your mouth, making you take all of it. “C’mon, cutie, take that big dick. Swallow it all like I know you can.”

You know you have a choice to move away, to pop off of his cock and take a breath…but you don’t. You stay on your knees with a pillow underneath you that you snatch off of one of the chairs without tearing your lips away from Satoru’s cock. You suck and gag on him like your life depends on it while stroking Suguru’s cock in time with your sucking until you’re working both cocks like it’s your profession.

As you do, another stranger comes out to the wall on your left where your other free hand lies. “I suppose I was too late for your mouth,” the stranger sighs. “But perhaps you have another hand free, darling?” His voice, calm, deep and coated in honey, makes you shiver.

“Nanami?!” Satoru guffaws, still fucking your mouth. “Oh, shit, you come here too?!” Nanami doesn’t sound too happy about seeing someone here that he knows. “I don’t know you,” he growls. “And you won’t mention this to anyone or else I’ll find you later and kill you myself.”

“I guess everyone needs a Christmas stress reliever,” Suguru chuckles, his voice breathless and strained from constantly fucking your hand like it’s his toy. “You’ll find it with this one. I promise you. She’s a first timer, but she’s so good at what she’s doing.”

Satoru hums in agreement, slipping out to give Suguru another chance at fucking your sloppy throat. “That she is,” he agrees. “You wanna takin three big cocks at the same time, cutie? You don’t have to think about anything except makin’ these cocks cum.”

You find yourself wanting just that: to be nothing but an object for these three men. To be a hole for them to fuck because it pleases you too. You don’t want to think about anything––not Christmas or work or money––but making them bust their loads all over you. So you reach a hand out and grasp Nanami’s cock which is just as veiny and thick as Satoru’s and protrudes from a nest of clean, cut, golden hairs. His shuddery moan makes your stomach flip in excitement, especially when he joins the chorus of moans, grunts, and pleasurable sighs from the duo.

For a while, it’s just the three of them…until it isn’t. Two more men show up, behind the wall facing your back. One of them knocks on the wall, startling you enough to retract your mouth from Suguru’s cock. “Boring,” the stranger grumbles, his voice raspy yet smooth, sending chills up and down your skin. “Don’t tell me you three losers have just been pumping your dicks in her holes and haven’t touched her yet. Amateurs.”

“It’s truly a shame, brother,” the other stranger, his voice softer yet deeper, agrees. “And she’s a pretty little thing from the looks of this photo. I bet that ass and pussy are even prettier. You wanna show us what those losers are missin’ out on, mama? Skunka and I can take care of you.” His voice and the idea of being touched by them tempts you more than you can explain.

“Reaaal good,” Sukuna growls. “You haven’t seen a big dick yet, princess. Choso and I both two. Now get that pussy over here before I lose my patience.”

“That’s no way to talk to this girl!” Satoru criticizes though he has switched places with Suguru again and is now thrusting into your throat until his balls swing against your chin. “This is…fuck, cutie…her first time!”

“Are you sayin’ we don’t have big dicks too?” Suguru asks, sounding irritated with and offended by the statement.

“Ooooh,” Sukuna coos, full-on ignoring Suguru, the sound sending a shiver up your spine. “Even better. Don’t worry; I’ll prep her first. That’s why the lube is here.” Choso chuckles mischievously behind the wall, giving you a sense that they plan to do exactly what they are telling you…and won’t be gentle about it either.

Before you even realize what you’re doing, you are lifting your ass in the air and pressing it into the hole behind you that is big enough to fit your ass cheeks and your pussy into it at the same time. The brothers groan at the sight of your plump ass and wet pussy on display for them, leading Skunk to squirt some lube onto his fingers while Choso lightly glides his fingers over your slit. You can’t help the soft moans that escape you as you continue to blow Satoru and Suguru while stroking Nanami.

“Fuck, what a pretty voice,” Sukuna groans. “I know you’re prettier in person. Just as pretty as this slutty fuckin’ pussy.” He replaces Choso’s fingers and gives your pussy a light slap before gently running his cold, slick fingers over and around your slit. You retract your lips from Satoru's cock, hissing at the sensation. “Shh, mama,” Choso coos, stroking your backside comfortingly. “We won’t hurt you. Sukuna’s just gonna add some fingers, okay?”

You do your best to relax, but nothing can prepare you for Sukuna’s thick fingers sliding inside you. “Fuck!” you moan around Satoru’s cock. The older, pink-haired brother begins to slowly fuck you with his fingers, rubbing your clit in time with his thrusts. As he does, lewd sounds of his fingers stroking the inside of your sobbing, wet pussy fill the air along with the famished moans and groans of the men surrounding you (so far).

“Shit,” Satoru hisses. “I can hear how wet you are, cutie. That’s gonna make me fucking cum!” You can tell by how big his cock has gotten inside of your throat and how rough his thrusts have become, fucking your mouth like it’s his own fleshlight. Suguru hums in agreement, also fucking your hand as he swells inside of your palm. “Me too,” he pants. “Lemme fuck her mouth too, Satoru. Don’t be fuckin’ selfish.”

Satoru listens, sliding out of your mouth to give Suguru a chance to fuck it. Your throat has become raw, a slight burning sensation now present from it being constantly fucked and stretched.

“When you two are finish with her, pass her over to me,” Nanami demands, his tone strained and needy. “I can’t be satisfied with just her hand…though you’re doing a great job, darling. Such a good slut for me.” He grunts as he continues to fuck your hand, wet with your saliva and his dripping pre.

Meanwhile, you continue to be finger fucked, stretching out your pussy and helping you accommodate to the digits inside of you. “Good girl,” Sukuna approvingly says. “Takin’ a stranger’s thick fingers so nicely. Mmmm, I’m gonna have fun stretchin’ this hole out the way it needs to be.” He curls his fingers up, drawing a loud whimper out of you that excites your customers. Choso is feening for you, buckling his pants to pull out his hard cock and pumping it in time with his brother’s finger fucking. “C’mon, bro, let me feel her too,” he groans.

Sukuna angrily huffs, not sounding happy with being interrupted. “Then you’d be fuckin’ up my hard work,” he growls. “But you can taste her. Come here and put that tongue in her cunt.” The littlest, dark-haired brother does just that. Your soul practically leaves your body when he begins to suck on your clit while Sukuna continues to finger you, both brothers playing with your pussy.

The immense pleasure you feel makes your body tingle and your mouth form an O-shape as you tear your lips away from Suguru’s dick. “Oh, my God!” you sob at the top of your lungs, causing Satoru and Suguru to quickly reach their end. They love hearing how pathetic and needy you sound as your pussy is eaten and fucked at the same time. How they wish they could see you…touch you… They each begin to fuck their fists to chase their orgasms, pumping their dicks in time with your sweet moans and whimpers.

“Fuck, you’re so fuckin’ hot, cutie,” Satoru moans. “I'm gonna fuckin’ cum on that pretty face of yours.”

“Me too, shit,” Suguru groans. “Take it all, baby doll. Don’t disappoint us, okay?”

Before you can answer, the duo each let out loud, muffled moans from behind the wall as they finally explode, cumming all over your face and cleavage, staining a bit of your dress with their nut. You gasp in surprise at the warmth that splashes across your skin as they cum on your face, ruining your makeup and coating your lips in their cum. Their loud, boisterous moans of pleasure quickly morph into soft sighs and groans as they come down from their orgasmic highs, chuckling slightly as they are sedated for the time being.

“Oooh, I can hear that someone got a facial,” a deep, rumbling, unfamiliar voice chuckles. “Am I too late for the party?” At this rate, you don’t know which wall he’s at.

“Just for her mouth,” Nanami growls. “I’m using it right now. Isn’t that right, darling?” You don’t know what possesses you, but after wiping most of the cum off of your lips and dabbing at your face with the towel provided, you turn your attention to Nanami and latch your lips onto him his cock. He begins thrusting immediately, not giving you any chance to breath or prepare yourself.

Because of his rough thrusting, you accidentally graze his cock with your teeth, earning a sharp inhale. Nanami takes his cock out of your mouth to smack you in the face with it, tapping it onto your cheek. "No teeth, darling,” he huffs. “I was under the impression that you were good at this. Don’t disappoint me.”

“You’d better be careful not to do that unless you want a spanking,” Sukuna chuckles, still fingering you. Choso hums against your clit, the vibrations traveling up to your waist and causing your hips to shimmy uncontrollably in the hole, desperate to push your ass into the sensations. “Oh, an ass wiggle?” Sukuna chuckles darkly. Guess you want one right now.”

Smack! The sharp sound and sensation of a hand coming down hard onto one of your asscheeks makes you wince and let out a gargled moan as Nanami continues to fuck your throat. “Oooh, an I join in on that?” Toji asks, obviously lust quivering in his voice. “Seeing that ass jiggle was just too good. I wanna punish this little slut too.”

“Make that for two,” another unfamiliar, deep yet equally as sexy voice chimes in. Toji laughs in delight. “Damn, that was fast. You finish up with the other little slut you had wrapped around your dick five minutes ago, Shiu?” The stranger–Shiu–scoffs through a chuckle. “More like I didn’t finish at all. Not after seein’ all these horny fucks over here, but now that I got a look at this pretty girl’s photo, I can see why.”

“Be my guest,” Sukuna chortles, delighted with the idea of you being punished by multiple men. “Just don’t have too much fun. Choso and I still gotta make this little slut cum, don’t we, Choso?” The younger brother groans in agreement against your clit as he eagerly sucks and slurps at it. “Actually, bro, take a breather,” Sukuna rumbles. “I wanna taste this whore for myself now.”

So the brothers switch, Sukuna now latching his eager, wet, torturous mouth onto your clit while Choso fingers you, fucking your cunt with slow, upward strokes that glide against your G-spot. The sensations you’re feeling are only heightened by Toji and Shiu spanking your ass repeatedly, the stinging sensations bringing you closer and closer to the edge. Finally, you feel your first orgasm of the night drawing near and you release Nanami’s cock from your mouth to moan out your warning. “Gonna cum!” you whimper. “I’m gonna cum!”

Sukuna growls into your cunt, eager for your cream all over his mouth. “Go ahead, cutie,” Satoru whines, no doubt fucking his hand behind the wall. “Cum on that tongue. God, I wish that were me!” Nanami’s deep moans of need are what lead you to latch your mouth onto his cock again, causing him to thrust desperately into your throat. “Make her cum, brother,” Choso begs. “Make this cute little slut cream all over herself.”

And Sukuna does. With a few quick, skillful flicks of his sinful tongue, you release with a loud moan only muffled by Nanami’s cock. Choso and Sukuna groan at your taste, both now slashing their tongues greedily across your pussy to lap at your juices. “I’m close too,” Nanami grunts, thrusting into your mouth faster, harder. “Gonna cum…gonna cum…fuck!”

He finally cums with a deep groan that makes your stomach flip and your pussy clench excitedly at the sound. His nut coats your tongue and the walls of your mouth, enveloping it in his taste. “Swallow it,” he orders. “Swallow all of my cum.” Though you could simply spit it out and pretend you swallowed it due to the wall, you find yourself obeying him and swallow his cum before exhaling. “Good girl,” he grumbles.

Sukuna moves away from your pussy, as does Choso, and Toji and Shiu cease their assault on your now stinging, tingling ass. “She's all nice n’ wet now,” Sukuna approvingly says. “Perfect for a nice, big cock…with a rubber.” You suddenly feel something much bigger and thicker slide against your sensitive pussy lips and you flinch at the sensations. “Relax, princess,” he cackles. “I’ll go in slow.” And he does, but he still stretches you out once he does. He grabs your lips as he sheathes himself inside you, slowly filling you up.

You gasp and your eyes widen at the sensation, a choked moan leaving your lips. “Fuck, you’re tight!” Sukuna grunts, his nails digging into your hips as his big cock sinks deeper and deeper inside of you, thrusting out before thrusting back in with another inch of him. You know without the orgasm or lube, this would be even more uncomfortable, so you’re grateful for their work.

“Mmm, she sounds tight,” Toji groans. Suddenly, a thicker cock with an angry vein throbbing along the shaft and a red tip dripping in pre-cum slides through a hole beside you on your left. “You’ve got two hands, don’t ya, little girl? Stroke Daddy’s cock too. I paid good money for you.” Another cock slides through its own hole on your right, slightly thicker and girthier than Toji’s. “Me too,” Choso practically begs. “Stroke me too, mama. I need you.”

“Don't forget me, pretty girl,” Shiu chuckles, sliding his dick through his hole to find your mouth. You don’t know what comes over you, but the need to make them feel as good as Sukuna–who moans and grunts through trembling breaths as his hands grip your hips and ass–overcomes you. You spit into your hands before wrapping them around the two cocks on either side of your head and then wrapping your mouth around the one in your face. You are fucked from both ends, so many cocks thrusting into your hands and your holes, turning your body into a living, breathing, moving flesh light.

“Oooh, sounds like someone’s gettin’ fucked,” another customer chuckles from behind one the walls. You can’t tell where anyone is anymore. “Too bad I wasn’t the first one in line for that pussy. There’s always next time though, sugar~”

“You’re just assuming you’ll get her next time, Ino,” a raspy, graveled voice retorts, saying the stranger’s name like it’s a curse word. “Once it’s open, that little kitty is going to be mine…right, kitty? You’ll need some more milk anyway.” Ino hums at the challenge, a smirk in his voice. “We'll see about the, Mahito,” he cackles. You feel as if your brain is about to explode, more because of the fact that there are more cocks to fuck, suck and make cum than because of the ones already fucking you.

Speaking of fucking, Sukuna is the king of it. The friction is sweeter than sweet now, making you grind your hips back into him to meet his rough, ruthless thrusts. His callused hands massage the flesh of your ass and his nails dig into your hips, making you winch slightly, but you love the pain at the same time. You can tell with every thrust that he is getting closer by how fast his hips go, snapping against your ass and making your tits and ass jiggle. “C’mon, Sukuna, get it over with,” Choso whines, impatient.

“Shut up,” his older brother growls. “Don’t…fuck…rush me. She’s so…fuckin’ fuck, princess…tight!”

He goes faster and faster like he’s trying to shove his entire cock into your stomach, pushing and pushing until you can hardly take anymore. You can feel your second orgasm of the night approaching and you moan around Shiu’s cock as spit drips from your lips. “I’m gonna cum!” Sukuna growls. “Take it all, you little slut! Deep in my pussy.”

And you do. You have no choice. When Sukuna bursts inside of you with a loud, primal growl and a string of curse words that would make a nun blush, your mouth forms an O as you feel a warm, wet gush of cum shoot inside you before dripping out of your pussy and down your thighs when he slowly pulls out of you, emitting a weak moan from you. The men on the side where your pussy and ass protrude from the hole in the wall groan at the sight of Skunk’s creampie dripping out of you. “Look at that, Shiu,” Toji comments. “A nice, pretty pussy all for the taking…soon.”

Shiu agrees, gliding a finger over your twitching, overly-sensitive pussy, dragging cum all over your lips. “A nice, used, pretty pussy at that,” he hums. “It only makes sense for such a pretty girl. You want us to fuck you next?” You shudder and shake from the aftermath of Skunk’s rough fuck session, but also from the idea of getting filled and fucked yet again. You can’t speak, your throat too dry and puffs of air leaving your lips in heavy pants.

“I don’t fuckin’ think so,” Mahito says, though sounding chipper. “Turn around, little kitty. I’m gonna fill you up with my milk next and give you what your filthy hole is craving.”

“And who the fuck are you to take my toy away from me?” Toji asks, irritated. “You got a death wish, bitch?”

“Like we weren’t here first,” Satoru argues, just as heated. “If anybody deserves to fuck her next, it’s me and Suguru…and maybe Nanami if he can handle his pussy.” Nanami growls in anger from the insult while Suguru laughs.

“Um…sorry, am I interrupting something?” a deep voice––much deeper than Toji’s––tentatively asks. “I’m here for…” He pauses and gasps at the sight of you. “Fuck, that’s the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen!” he excitedly says. You feel his cock, big, thick, and would absolutely ruin you, slowly slide against your slit, making your breath hitch. “You’re so wet down here, gorgeous,” he sighs through a shuddering breath. “And so tiny, too. I can tell I’m so much bigger than you. Don’t worry though; I’ll take good care of you.”

“And who the fuck are you?” Mahito angrily growls.

“Aoi Todo,” the big, buff, deep-voiced stranger simply responds. “I’m about to fuck this gorgeous pussy here. Who are you?”

“Whoa, whoa, hey!” Ino says, becoming the peacemaker between the horny men outside your booth. “There’s plenty of her to go around. We can all share!”

“Yeah,” Shiu agrees. “C’mon, pretty girl, give us that mouth. I’m sure the others can be satisfied with just your hands for now.”

Once again overtaken by your sluttiness and need, you wrap your lips around Shiu’s cock while Todo and Ino slides themselves into your hands, thrusting into your palms as they moan about how good you are. As you do, Mahito slides into your pussy as he promised, taking your hips and gripping them so hard that you’re sure they’ll leave bruises. He fucks deep into your pussy, filling your walls with nothing but him and thrusting so hard inside of you that his heavy balls slap against your clit, giving your body sparks of pleasure.

You switch between Shiu and Toji, becoming a wet hole for their relentless thrusting into your throat, causing you to gag and slobber so much that your spit drips over your tits and hits the floor. “Such a big girl takin’ two cocks at the same time,” Toji praises you. “At this rate, you’ll be a certified size queen in no time. Take me deeper, little girl.” You do as he says, taking Toji deeper down your throat and bobbing your head while Shiu slaps his dick against the side of your face, wanting more of you.

Mahito’s huffs and pants of breath get louder as he gets closer to his own orgasm, pistoning himself inside you again and again. He begins to babble dirty talk, rasped whines leaving his lips as he lets you know just how good your pussy is. “Slutty little bitch, makin’ me lose it like this…makin’ me fuck you so hard and fast…I’m gonna give you lots of milk now, okay, kitty? Gonna fill you up now…fuck, fuck, fuck!”

He, too, explodes inside of you, filling your pussy with cum. His feral grunts and whines trigger your own orgasm and he shudder around his cock as you cream all over it, squeezing him so much that his body begins to tremble from the sensations. “Oh, my God,” Todo groans, totally losing it at the sight of your pussy dripping with yet another cream pie. “Oooh, nice one,” Ino chuckles. “Though I have noticed that one of her holes hasn’t been filled yet.”

It doesn’t take rocket science to figure out that he means your asshole. “Because of this stupid fuckin’ wall,” Satoru growls. “I’d love to fuck that tight little hole, feel that ass bounce against me…” Sukuna grunts in agreement. “If we lost this wall, she wouldn’t be able to walk for days. I’d fuck that pussy so good that she’d be sore. She couldn’t even walk out of here.”

You can physically feel the arousal radiating off of the men through the holed walls, dozens of cocks oozing pre-cum and balls heavy for you. You smile at each of them, a seductive smile stretching onto your lips as someone––someone sluttier and careless––steps into your skin. “Do whatever you want to me, boys,” you purr. “I’m all yours tonight.”

And then you do something very stupid: you allow them to drop that wall. You unlock the door for them and allow them to enter the booth, two at a time, in shifts, to fuck you silly. And you can’t believe how sexy they all are.

First are Satoru and Nanami, both equally as tall and as sexy with lean muscle, but while Nanami is rocking a blonde undercut and a sharp suit (strange for a trip to a glory hole), Satoru has on a tight black tee and jeans with snow-white hair and blue eyes you know are panty droppers. As soon as the door shuts on you, he gives you a dazzling smile while Nanami’s eyes roam over your semi-naked form. “Hey there, cutie,” he chirps. “Thanks for letting us officially meet you. Now bend the fuck over.”

Before you know it, minutes later, you are bent over the loveseat by Satoru while his tongue lashes at your pussy and clit, his words muffled and mashed by his face in your cunt. “You taste so good, cutie!” he whines into your cunt, but it comes out as, “You tashte sho good, cwutie”. Either way, it makes you grind your hips back into his face and sob into the pillow. Then it’s Nanami’s turn, who does the same thing, only he uses his funny-looking tie to restrict your wrists behind your back, making it so you can’t use your hands to push him away or pull him deeper into you.

After your explosive orgasm into Nanami’s mouth, he places his hand on the small of your back, keeping you in position as he pistons his cock snuggly inside of your pussy while Satoru thrusts into your mouth from the other end. Both men trap you between them, using your holes for their own pleasure. “Nothing teamwork, right, Kenie?” Satoru chuckles breathlessly, his eyes glinting. “At this rate, we can fill this little cutie up at the same time, ya think?”

“Shut up, Satoru,” Nanami growls, one hand gripping your hair back while the other massages your ass. “You’re making me lose focus. Come on, darling, keep clamping down on me. You have one more cock that still needs a turn.” He continues to fuck you, emitting muffled moans and sloppy, wet sounds from your gushing pussy tightening around his cock with every stroke.

Soon, they switch and now it’s Satoru’s turn to finally fuck your insides. He fills you just as Nanami did, smacking your ass and groping your titties, his fingers tweaking your nipples. He leans down as Nanami pounds away into your throat, not even caring about your ruined makeup. The others watch on from behind the walls, desperate for a turn to fuck you in person.

“Such a cute little pussy tightening around that dick,” Satoru coos. “You love bein’ watched, don’t you? Love all this attention like a little attention whore…a good little cum slut. That’s what you are now, cutie. Now take my cum.” Five more thrusts and he explodes with a loud moan that bounces off of the walls as he fills you with his cum. You soon cum with him, your body shuddering and soaring high above the clouds.

“Take my cum too, darling,” Nanami grunts. “Take it all inside you…fuck!” He cums too, filling your mouth to the brim so you have no choice but to swallow again.

Next are Suguru and Sukuna. Like Satoru and Nanami, they are tall and sinewy with hard, lean muscle, but while Suguru has long black hair you want to run your fingers through and a dragon tattoo inked on his muscular back, Sukuna has spiked pink hair, tattoos, and piercings that make you wetter. They each walk with a swagger into the booth, oozing with confidence and sex appeal. It doesn’t take them long to have you on your back and their cocks to be inside you again.

Suguru sits up on his knees, slowly rolling his hips into your mouth, your head turned to the side to accommodate him. “Gently, Sukuna,” he grunts. “Don't wanna break the girl.” Sukuna is practically mounting you, your legs hiked up over his shoulders as he deep dicks you. “Please,” he scoffs. “This slutty girl can take anything we give her, right, princess?” His hand snatches out to grab your throat, squeezing it, and emitting broken gasps from your mouth.

Suguru leans down to press a kiss to your sweaty brow and whisper into your ear while Sukuna nails your G-spot again and again, turning it into mush. “You’re gonna let us fuck you good, right?” he purrs. “You’re gonna trust we can take care of this body and use you until you can’t even move because that’s what you want from us.” His thick fingers find your clit and begins rubbing it between your thighs. “You want us to fuck these tight holes until you’re cumming over and over again.”

Sukuna cums inside you for the second time, giving you yet another creampie that oozes down your thighs, before Suguru leans back and pats his lap for you. “Hop on top, baby doll,” he coos. You slowly do so, your body weak, and he holds you close, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist. “Just relax for us, okay?” he whispers. And as you sink down onto his cock, you feel Sukuna’s fingers, slick with spit and lube, gently probe your asshole. “Fuck!” you sob.

You grip Suguru’s shoulders as Sukuna slowly and gently stretches out your asshole, his eyes widen like a kid in a candy store at the way your brown little hole stretches around his fingers. “Good girl, takin’ these fingers in that tight hole,” he chuckles. “Even tighter than that pussy. Such a good fuckin’ slut…a nice toy for us to play with.”

Your hips begin to stutter and you stop fucking Suguru to whine and yelp at the sensations, feeling too much at the same time. Though it doesn’t exactly hurt, you feel too full and it is uncomfortable. "Can’t take it!” you desperately scream. “I can’t…I can’t!” Suguru pauses to shush you, pressing a wet kiss to your lips.“Shh, baby doll,” he whispers. “He’s gonna use your mouth instead while I fuck this pussy till I fill you up. You can handle that, right?”

Sukuna has now pulled his fingers out of your asshole to kneel beside your face, not even waiting to thrust into it. “Stop askin’ her what she can and can’t handle,” he impatiently growls. “This slut doesn’t get a choice, but I wouldn't wanna break my toy, so I’ll just fuck your throat until I cum deep inside it. How’s that, princess?”

And he does. And when he does, Suguru wraps his arms around you and firmly holds you, bucking his hips until into you. “Good girl, good girl,” he repeatedly hums as Sukuna fills your throat with every ounce of his cum. Suguru cums right after, exploding inside of you and filling you up with him until you feel full enough to burst.

Next are Ino and Todo. By this time, you’re an exhausted, cum-filled mess, your dress ripped off and makeup ruined. The only things left on you are your heels and jewelry. Ino waltzes in first, dressed in all black with a beanie drooping over his forehead. He gives you a humored smirk as the sight of you. “Oooh, shit, sugar!” he cackles. “You look so wrecked.” He kneels down to lift your chin up with his thumb. “But you ain’t seen nothin’ yet ‘cause now it’s my turn to have you. And I don’t get to share you either, so I can have you all to myself.”

He presses a wet tongue kiss to your lips, only to be interrupted by Todo. Your eyes widen at how big and buff he is with a scarred face that does nothing to hide his handsome features. Your eyes immediately fall to the bulge he is sporting in his baggy black pants, knowing you’re done for. “Speak for yourself,” he grumbles, cutting his eyes at Ino. “Usually, I don’t like sharing any pretty thing with just anyone, but I can make an exception this one time.” He smiles down at you, a twinkle in his eyes. “You’ve never seen the likes of me, have you, gorgeous?”

And then his pants are down and you decide that no, you haven’t. For Ino either. They both are so much bigger without the glory holes in the way. You can barely lift yourself up off the couch to move and the two don’t try to make you. Ino crawls on top of you and gently slaps his cock against your asscheeks. “You don’t have to do anything, sugar,” he coos. “Just lie there just like that. I’m just gonna get on top of you, slide in and…f-fuck, you’re tight!”

He fucks you prone bone style, completely mounting you as he drives his cock and hips into you, making your ass jiggle and the couch cushions bounce with his every assertive, rough movement. In front of you, you see two heavy balls, thick, muscled thighs, and a thick cock in your line of sight. Your eyes roll up to meet Todo’s who stares down at you with the desperation of a horny, tortured soul.

“Can you pick your head up for me?” he gently asks. He does so for you, lifting your head up with his hand under your chin. “I just need your mouth this time, gorgeous. Don’t worry; you don’t have to do much.” He taps his cock against your plump lips, leaving pre-cum staining them. “Just open up and…f-f-fuck yes!” His grunts and whines fill your ears as his cock slides in and out of your mouth, filling your throat and nostrils with the taste and scent of him.

Ino continues to drill his cock into you, going deeper and deeper with every thrust. “Fuck, your pussy is sweeter than you, sugar,” he groans, then chuckles. “Just kidding. Every part of you is sweet…fuckin’ delicious…” He peels back the hair in your face to see your expression, your eyes glazed over and lost in total ecstasy. “Take it all for me, sugar,” he moans into your ear. “Take all of this dick deep. I know you need it.”

He slides out a few times to fuck his cock between your ass cheeks, hotdogging you and dragging his pre-cum and your juices across your ass crack. He whines as he does this, babbling about how good your ass feels and how much he wants to fuck it.

You realize how much more vocal he and Ino are, how “subby” they sound as they groan and whimper about how tight, wet, and good your holes feel. Ino ends up cumming between your asscheeks, clenching them as he shoots his load across your lower back. You gasp weakly as he does, not expecting it, and you just feel sticky afterward.

Without moving you, the two switch and suddenly, Todo is mounting his big body on top of you, pinning you down with his weight. Though you’re exhausted, the idea of being trapped beneath his muscles excites you and you clench around him as he nails his cock inside of you again and again. “You’re s-so good at this, gorgeous,” he groans. “That pussy is grippin’ me so tightly, shit, shit shit, I’m gonna cum!”

He finally cums too, filling you to the brim with his cum. It oozes out of you freely, dripping down your thighs and around his cock, emitting soft whimpers and moans from the both of you. “Fantastic,” he huffs, kissing your shoulder. “You're at natural at this.”

Choso and Mahito seem to think the same thing when it’s their turn to wreck your shit. When they come in, their arrival is like a dark cloud floating into the room. You know just by looking at them that they’ll fuck you up. Choso is quite attractive with spiked, black hair tied into ponytails, tape on the bridge of his nose, and a pediment, sleepy look in his eyes rimmed in purple. “Damn, mama,” he laughs in disbelief. “You just had five different cocks and you’re still able to function? I’m impressed.”

Mahito is just as hot despite his unruly, long silvery hair and disconcerting smile. He also has the prettiest eyes framed by doll-like lashes, piercings, and tats that cover every inch of his muscular body. “Of course, she’s still functioning,” he argues, looking down at you with nothing but dark, molten lust. “She needs as much milk as she can handle, don’t you, kitty?” When you don’t answer, he yanks roughly on your hair, pulling you up. “Don’t you?” he growls. You hiss at the pain of your scalp being pulled.

“Don’t be so fuckin’ rough, man,” Choso growls, but even he can’t hide the way his cock twitches at the sight of you being yanked around like a rag doll. “Please!” you whine, unsure of what you’re begging for.

Choso leans toward you, his face just inches from yours. “Please what, mama?” he asks. “You want us to fuck you again?” His hand sneaks between your thighs to cup your mound, wet and overused. “It’s okay, we’ll give it to you. Don’t you even worry about it.”

Without another word, he flips you onto your back and crawls on top of you, blocking your view of the ceiling like a handsome eclipse. “Just rest your pretty ass there and let me fuck you, okay?” Then he’s sliding inside of you, your thighs pinned open by his hands. He gives himself time to get used to your tightness, rolling his hips slowly into yours. With every roll, you weakly moan and gasp, too tired to be another louder.

You can’t make any more noise because Mahito is turning your head to slide his dick into your mouth, forcing you to take every inch until his pubic hairs and balls are touching your chin and lips. He stands near the edge of the couch as he fucks your face, glaring at Choso fucking your cunt as he does. “Motherfucker takin’ my spot,” he grumbles. “You’re lucky she looks so enticing right now with how she’s taking your cock.”

Choso smirks as he drives his cock into you a little faster, causing your body to bounce against his cock. One hand shoots out to fondle your breast, rolling your hard nipple with his thumb, as he fucks you stupid, sharp huffs of breath and moans leaving his lips. But no matter how good it feels or how your clit rubs against his pelvis, you can't get any louder.

“So quiet, kitty,” Mahito chuckles. “Must not be fucking you good enough.” He slides his dick out of your throat to smack you in the face with it. “You won’t be able to hide that voice when I’m inside of you. I’ll make sure of it. I like my whores loud.”

“So do I,” Choso grunts. “C’mon, mama, give me that voice.” He slides his wet cock out of you to smack his hand against your clit, bringing a sharp, pleasurable sting that makes your thighs clench. Smack! Smack! “Give it to me!” he repeats, louder this time. “Let me know how good that dick feels fucking you!”

“Please!” you yelp. “Please, I can’t take it! It feels too good!” Happy with that, Choso goes back to fucking you until he spills his cum deep inside you, filling you up so much that Mahito is impressed with the amount…but then it’s his turn. And he makes sure that you feel it. He has you sit up on your knees and presses his cock against the entrance of your ass: the one hole that wasn’t purely fucked. You whimper and gasp as his head presses into you, farther and farther, feeling stretched despite Sukuna’s fingering and the wetness surrounding it.

“Guess nobody stretched this hole out yet,” he tuts. “Well, I’ll change that. I’m just the man to do it.” Before you can protest, he pushes himself farther into your ass. You can’t describe the pain nor the pleasure: it is searing hot and draws the loudest sounds out of you that make Mahito cackle and Choso fuck his semi-hard cock with his hand as he stands before you.

Mahito relishes your wails and the wiggles of your body as you try to get away. “Don’t run from me now, kitty,” he chuckles. “I’m just doin’ what you wanted.” He grips your hips tighter as he roughly fucks your ass, his slow strokes more torturous that fast ones. You can feel all of him stretching out your asshole as his other hand loops underneath you to rub your clit. You can feel your body failing on you, your knees and wrists becoming weak. “Aww, what’s wrong, kitty?” Mahito condescendingly asks. Can you not take anymore cock? Am I being just a little too rough?”

You whine in response, unable to form words. His hand then snatches out to grab your throat, squeezing it. “You should’ve thought about that before you opened the door, you little cock slut. Now you get what you came here for.”

You look up at Choso for rescue, but he is too busy pumping his cock in your face, chasing another orgasm. “Keep lookin’ at me,” he demands. “I want this sexy body and pretty face covered…want her to smell like me. Don’t want anyone else touchin’ her, not even my brother.” When he finally splashes his cum all over your face, Mahito empties his balls deep in your ass, filling you like you’ve never been filled before. You gasp as the feeling, your fingers clenching the pillow below you.

When they finish and leave you in your booth (not without a kiss on your lips from Choso and an ass slap from Mahito), you lay on the couch, spent and exhausted. You think this is the last of your rounds…but you forget about Toji and Shiu. And baby, you haven’t been fucked yet. They make sure you understand the differences between sex with the others and sex with them when the two older men walk into the room.

You weakly look up at them from the couch though you don’t lift your head. They are equally as hot and muscular, their toned muscles pushing against their dark clothes and cocks swinging nakedly out of their flies, veiny and thicker than snicker bars. Toji has a tiny scar at the corner of his devilish smirk, gray eyes the color of rain clouds, and a black mullet. “Last round, little girl,” he chuckles. “Don't worry; we’ll go real slow for you. Won’t we, Shiu?”

Shiu has a sharp, trimmed cut, tanned skin, and a thin mustache over his plump lips. “Mmm, absolutely,” he agrees, “but you’re not leavin’ here till you make us cum.” He kneels down so his face is level with yours, his breath smelling of mint. “And we’re not leavin’ till we make you cum,” he whispers.

Toji kneels down too, stroking a hand over your hair. “Is that understood, slut?” he asks. Weakly, you nod, understanding that you’ve opened Pandora’s box and the only way to close it is to give them exactly what they want. Toji’s smirk grows and he taps his hand lightly against your cheek. “Good.” He stands along with Shiu, their cocks dangling in your face. “Now take these cocks just like we know you can.”

You don’t know what kind of fire lights inside of you, but at the sight of their dicks dangling in front of you for you and you alone, you suddenly get a burst of energy and eagerness to get your hands on them. Minutes later, you are on your knees between them and eagerly sucking and stroking them dry, spitting, slobbering, and gagging all over them. You stare up into their eyes and alternate between stroking their dicks and trailing your hands down their toned stomachs, relishing their muscles and abs under your fingertips.

You welcome the tiny grunts and soft moans Shiu gives as he watches you, astonished at the way you take both cocks. “She’s so eager,” he moans, staring down at you in disbelief. “How is it you’ve had all of these dicks slung inside you already and yet, you’re still going?”

Toji smiles greedily at you, his hand cupping the back of your head as you throat his cock, swallowing it hole as spit dribbles from your lip. “She makes it so easy,” he sighs wistfully. “Makes it so, so easy for me to scoop her up and take her home for my own…my little toy…my little cum slut.” “Keep suckin’, pretty girl. You’re doin’ so well. Don’t stop now. Such a perfect mouth on you~” The praise has you sucking faster, gulping down both of them like the eager cum slut they see you as.

But they don’t cum down your throat. No, they want to make this count. So you find yourself sitting in Shiu’s lap with his cock snuggly inside of you and his hands gripping your hips as you slowly grind your ass back to rub against your clit. Toji sits beside you on the couch, watching you ride Shiu; more specifically, watching the way your ass moves in his lap. “Decided to give that throat a break. Just focus on makin’ my friend cum, okay?” He winks at you, wrapping a hand around his thick cock.

You don’t know what to focus on anymore: the way Toji so intensely stares at you as he fucks his hand or the way Shiu fucks back up into you. He grasps your breasts; your stomach; your ass; anything else he can touch.

“That’s it,” he praises you, his voice strained from the pleasure and your tight walls squeezing him. “Fuck, you’re so fuckin’ tight! I could stay here all day.” And you would let him. The way his thick cock strokes your velvety, inner walls and bumps against your clit is just too good for words to describe. Your eyes flutter shut as moans and gasps leave your lips and echo in the booth, unable to be hidden anymore.

You suddenly feel Toji’s hands on you and his lips sucking at your nipples. “You have the prettiest body, little girl,” he chuckles. “Look at these gorgeous nipples…so hard from these old guys’ dicks.” His teeth graze one of your hard, brown nipples, giving you a spark of pain and pleasure.

“T-Toji,” you whine. It’s the only word you can form. As he continues to work your breasts, Shiu snakes a hand around your throat and lays it there as he drives into you deeper and deeper. “Take more of me, pretty girl,” he groans. “I want to be so deep inside you that you have no choice but to take all of my cum.”

And you don’t. Because when he cums, you feel every inch of his cock swell and then explode inside of you, filling you up. Shiu presses his face into your back as he groans, cumming deep inside of you, and squeezing you like he owns every part of you. As his nut drips out of you and all over the couch, you think that he is all that is left…but you’re forgetting about Toji. When Shiu releases you and gently settles you down on the couch, Toji is more than ready to have his fill of you next.

He leans down to coo at you, a mocking expression on his face that you miss because of your exhaustion. “Tired?” he asks. Weakly, you nod, emitting a laugh from both men. "Aww, don’t worry, little girl. I’ll do all the work for you. Just stay there and be a good slut for me.”

And you do. You physically cannot move. Your limbs feel like jelly and dizziness has taken over. Toji doesn’t mind how sticky with sweat and cum you are. He takes you as you are––on your back with your legs draped over his big, broad shoulders.

His cock drives in and out of you, alternating between fast and slow, his balls slapping against your ass and his pelvis rubbing against your clit with every thrust. Shiu watches on the other end of the couch, lighting himself a cigarette. Your weak moans are drowned out by his loud grunts and the slapping of skin against skin as he fucks you into the couch.

“You like that, little girl?” he grunts, staring down at you with lust-blown eyes. “You like how Daddy fucks this pussy?” His hand, big and veiny, shoots down to grap your throat. He squeezes it as he fucks you, making you gasp. “God, you look so good like that,” he groans. "Keep that pretty mouth open for me, you little slut. I wanna see that tongue when I cum deep inside you.”

He leans down suddenly, pressing his sweaty forehead against yours. “How’s this for a Christmas gift, hm?” he murmurs to you. “Your friends must’ve known how slutty you are to have pulled this off.”

You don’t answer. You can’t. All you can do is weakly moan and whimper as Toji drives you closer and closer to your final orgasm of the night, your clit overstimulated and twitching. “Gonna cum,” you whisper, tears of desperation pricking your eyes.

Toji nods encouragingly, driving his cock faster and faster inside of you. “Cum on this dick, little girl,” he demands. “Give it to me. Give all of it to me, now.” And you do. Your orgasm hits you before you realize it, but all you can let out is a silent gasp as you cream all over Toji’s cock.

He doesn’t stop fucking you, even when your walls squeeze so enticingly around him and your mouth looks so pretty wide open like that that he shoves his fingers inside of it, letting you suck on the digits. His grunts grow louder and more guttural as he gets closer and closer to his orgasm, driving you up against the couch.

“Gonna cum,” he warns. “Gonnacumgonnacumgonna fuckin’ cum!” He yells the last two words before he lets out a deep growl as he sprays his cum deep, deep, deep inside of you, mingling with Shiu’s and all of the other men before him. You gasp at the warm, wet feeling as he orgasms, his large hands gripping your hip and throat as he slowly rolls his hips, chasing his orgasm, before he finally stops. He sighs in satisfaction, drawing his dick out of you and letting his cum drip out of your twitching, used, puffy pussy.

Finally. Finally, they’re done. You don’t think you can go on much longer. But with the way Toji and Shiu are looking at you, you can tell that they still have more plans for you. “Need…rest,” you pant, your eyes fluttering with exhaustion. But Toji tuts, gently scooping you up into his big arms.“Uh-uh, little girl,” he tuts. “You’re not done quite yet. We still need to cover you, don’t we? Make sure you remember this Christmas Eve forever.”

You’re too tired to understand what’s happening at first when Toji carries you away from the couch. But when he lowers you down on the floor near the dozens of glory holes where hard cocks dangle from, you understand exactly what’s happening. So you sit with your knees together and your palms in your lap, face tilted up, eyes closed, and panting mouth open, waiting the loads that you will soon be given. Toji and Shiu stand before you, pumping their dicks in your face, their grunts and moans mingling with the others’ behind the walls.

Finally, with a chorus of moans, whines, groans, and other sex, porn-worthy sounds of climax, every single cock you have taken tonight shoots their loads all over you––your face; your mouth; your tits; your chest; your stomach; even your back and ass. You are completely covered in cum. You are sticky and wet with it, already feeling it dry on your skin and the many different scents staining you like tattoos.

Finally, your men are satisfied and so are you. “Thanks for such a fun night, cutie,” Satoru giggles from behind the wall. “You were so good for us!” You can barely manage to smile.

After Toji and Shiu leave (after making sure you’re not dead and proposing you do this again sometime), you kick off your heels, strip off what is left of your dress, and crawl to the shower where you wash off the sweat, cum, and memories of tonight. The hot water rinses the nut, tears, and makeup off of your face, making you feel brand new. As you step out of the shower, you smell of lavender soap and steam. You are silent as you put on the bathrobe left for you, processing everything that has just happened.

You just visited a glory hole. You just participated in a gang bang. You just fucked multiple men and made them cum.

When you walk out of the bathroom, there is a sudden knock on the door and you startle. “It’s me!” Shoko calls through the door. All of the men are gone, having left earlier to give you privacy and rest. You walk to the door and open it, revealing Shoko with smudged lipstick and a strap from her dress hanging down her shoulder. She definitely enjoyed herself tonight too.

“Hey, you!” she brightly chirps. “Just came to check on you and tell you we’re about to head out. I think our hour is up.”

She looks you up and down in your robe and knowingly smirks to herself. “Sooo how’d you enjoy yourself for your first time at a glory hole?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.

There is only one single thought swimming around in your foggy mind that is still coming down to Earth from cloud nine and above, too busy thinking about what other fine ass men you can meet and delicious things you can experience in this sinful yet glorious place:

“Can we come again next Christmas?”

THE END.

#smutty smut #black fanfic writer #my works #black writers #black coded reader #jjk smut #jjk reader insert #jjk x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #black reader

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comicaurora · 5 months

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Hi! I finally got the chance to read Aurora a bit ago. It's a wonderful story--all I was expecting and better! I was particularly amazed and delighted by the artwork and visual mechanics used to tell the story, so I wrote a post to yell about how cool it is and break some of it down. (No criticism, just praise.) I'm mostly a hobbyist, so I'm hoping I've done it justice.

That said: zero pressure to read it or respond to this ask. Normally I wouldn't send it since I tagged, but I know Tumblr's notifs are a mess and things get lost very easily. I've been in both the "one (1) word of praise will feed me for a year" and the "oh gods don't talk about my writing/art because anything that seems Off will break my brain" modes before, and I absolutely don't want to push or make you uncomfortable!

If you are comfortable, however, I wanted to ask about your use of what I'm assuming are Screen and blending modes in sound effect words. (I'm only guessing that's the technique, though, so I could be totally wrong about how it's done! I'm mostly experienced in image manipulation in Photoshop.) Making them semi-transparent over the actions is genius :) What inspired you to do that, and are there specific techniques you use to make it work?

Same questions go for using specific colors to distinguish different characters' words and actions. I really noticed it in the cave sequence with Falst and Dainix, since their colors are so vivid in the dark (ex. Falst's little swats and Dainix's swooping kick at 1.20.9). It lends excellent clarity to busy scenes.

Thanks! Have a lovely day, enjoy your break, and happy holidays <3

You're correct about the technique! "Screen" is the blend mode I use most often for sound effects. I stumbled on it mostly through trial and error - I love how sound effects add depth to a comic panel, but it's very easy for them to obscure the art in a way I find counterproductive, so "Screen" lets me put the sound effect directly over the origin of the sound while still letting it be visible through the word. Early chapters didn't have it as much-

Most of the sound effects in early chapters are just solid colors with reduced opacity if I'm feeling fancy. But I started figuring it out around chapter 8 and 9, because Falst is kind of a sound-effect-heavy guy, especially in his fight scenes.

In order to make sure they don't impede the visibility of the action, I'll often soft-erase the top or bottom half of the SFX to reduce its opacity while still leaving it readable.

I'll usually double that up with an outline on the SFX so it's still readable. This is an especially important consideration if the SFX goes over an area of the background that's very bright or glowing.

Color-coding the speed lines and SFX to the character or force causing them isn't a hard and fast rule, but I like using it (in part because it's a habit from the OSP illustrations, where every character has a single pop of color in their lineart) mostly because it sort of codes every sound to make it clear where it's emanating from, or the general feeling of the sound. Since I normally do character-colors for SFX, something like this stands out more jarringly-

Which it's supposed to, but a big lightning strike doesn't register as anything too worrying because it's just Tess up to her usual shenanigans.

It's also very useful for magic effects, because each form of magic has its own associated palette.

And when I had a very complicated fight scene in a dark environment, I used the texture pattern I'd already made for the monster to color its SFX, so when I Screened them onto the panels they didn't obscure too much while still communicating "this is something else."

Changing the weight, lined-vs-not-lined, and opacity of the SFX words also helps to communicate that not every sound has the same feeling. A strong motion is solid and aggressive, but a crackling, unstable sound is more ephemeral and staticky.

It's definitely been a process of learning as I go - looking back at the earlier chapters I can actually see when I first tried various tricks I now use regularly, like doubling and distorting an SFX to produce the effect of a camera-shaking impact. I haven't really seen any other comics that do it like I do, probably because most other comics follow a more traditional production pipeline where text bubbles and sound effects get locked into the composition early, before the inking stage, because traditional physical comics don't have digital-art layers to play with. Adding sound effects to a page is almost the last thing I do before exporting them, and that only works because digital art and layers allow for a ton of flexibility.

#asks #aurora #art stuff

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toshiirou · 1 year

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racism in Nintendo 2: electric boogaloo

hello and welcome back it is i, once more. to talk about the elephant in the room that has reappeared in the release of the totk designs. a suspiciously green elephant i might say

this is of course about ganon

i have made a few posts before about ganon - about how it's not anti-racist to 'redeem' his role as an all-evil villain by sexualising him; about the fan response to the first totk trailer and the rehydrated ganondorf trend; and how other characters (namely link) do not get the same treatment that ganon gets for similar design features.

what i want to give today is a more straightforward explanation of 1. why it is bad that ganon is green (yes, it is in fact bad) and 2. the orientalism inherent in his totk design. i know a lot of people find him hot, and might become defensive that i'm pointing out features that they enjoy. the fact of the matter is that the sexualisation of totk ganon is done by deliberately playing upon erotic orientalist tropes and this is something that shouldn't be ignored for personal comfort.

so to start. the green skin. im going to quote an article called Greenface: Exploring green skin in contemporary Hollywood cinema by Brady Hammond, which can be summed up by the arguement in the

"article [is] that as overtly racist cinematic depictions associated with real-world skin colors – particularly black skin – have decreased, Hollywood cinema has relocated those tropes onto green skin."

and I agree. I've talked about coding before in relation to loz, and it is no stretch to consider that a character can be representative of some particular demographic(s) without replicating their features in their entirety.

Without doubt it is straightforward to say that ganon represents a brown or black man. The gerudo are heavily inspired by the SWANA region, and not to mention that most of the gerudo indeed have a brown skin tone. botw having lighter and darker skinned gerudo is still representative of the SWANA region and the variety of looks we have there.

and thus coding done with ganon's design - intentional or otherwise - cannot escape the racial implications that ganon is very clearly a brown or black man. which means negative coding that coincides with preexisting racist coding and racial stereotypes will carry those same racist undertones. none of it is undermined by that nintendo is a Japanese company or that this is a fictional world in a video game. deliberate design choices made by real people can't be absolved from racism when it's convenient

to start:

"David Batchelor states that ‘color has been the object of extreme prejudice in Western culture’. This prejudice, he argues, manifests itself by either dismissing color outright as ‘superficial’ or by denigrating it and ‘[making it] out to be the property of some “foreign” body – usually the feminine, the oriental, the primitive, the infantile, the vulgar, the queer or the pathological’."

and

"More importantly, given the ability of the cinema screen to render fantastic spaces and colors it is necessary to consider how characters are represented when they feature an unnatural or even impossible skin color."

the gerudo have always had an orientalist lens laid over them. ganon has always had strong animalistic associations, and has appeared non-human a number of times. this was fine before nintendo retconned him to specifically be a brown man from a group that are explicitly human in the same way that hylians are human and other round-eared people in the loz franchise are human. it is racist to seperate the gerudo exclusively from other human groups as having explicitly non-human characteristics given their prolific role as the first group of brown humans in tloz, and the most foreign and exoticized group of humans.

to give ganon green skin is thusly, a way that implicitly denies his humanity. and it becomes pointed when this primitive and animalistic coding occurs most frequently to the brown man villain. now that totk revived ganon as a humaoid it becomes more pointed that he's denied the same human skintone of the rest of the gerudo, and it's quite frankly upsetting to see this happen and to be glossed over.

more specifically. green has preexisting racist associations for black and brown characters specifically. that is because green has long been used in media to depict the racialised other by linking them with real world negative racist stereotypes. an example given in the article "in Star Trek (1966-1969) when an alien woman of the Orion race dances. Her skin is an emerald green and she is both hyper-feminine and an alien Other." not commented upon but which is more evidence to the racial stereotyping of green skin is that the orion woman is depicted in a distinctly orientalist manner: with a hypersexualized outfit and routine that is reminiscent of belly dancer fantasies. the low light, setting choices, and recurring theme of the slave women dancing provocatively plays upon the western imaginations of the Harem.

as you can see:

other examples of the green other include orcs (with their own swath of racial stereotypes), the grinch, aliens, gremlins, goblins, etc. what often occurs is that green characters are concurrently linked to ethnic stereotypes through coding that is brought together in the fantasy realm by their green skin. that coding may include racism, orientalism, xenophobia, antisemitism, anti-indigenous stereotypes or so on. it is clear that ganon representing a brown/black man brings with it negative coding in the game as the only villain, his animalistic associations, his domineering violence that stands apart from the primarily female gerudo, and as the racialised other. this coding would still exist if he was not green. but it is an affront to dignity to remove the humanity of a brown man by also making him green.

if i have not yet lost you then to wrap up: the fetishizing other. as established with his coding, ganon's humanity is put into question with his design, and he can be linked to the SWANA region. evocative of a harem is the only (violent and dangerous) man from a group of women who are hidden away, and is explicitly a danger to both them and western/hylian rule and ideology.

His imagery is paired with similar design choices made for the gerudo women to sexualize him and invoke imagery of the sexy orient, the beast that can be tamed, and so on. This is done primarily with his torso being bare while he wears gold jewelry, in a way almost reminiscent of chains or cuffs. brown and black men are fetishized through sexualising them as erotic beasts, which is clear to the image that totk ganon's design presents. even the toe rings play into this - as a practice with a long history in India as worn by married women (and men, in Tamil culture).

much akin to the face veil for women, brown and black men are often sexualised through (usually gold) jewelry. specifically (like with the veil) the juxtaposition between their lack of full covering (bare torso is most common) and the abundance of ornamental jewelry. it shows their body as this exotic, decorated prize, where their nudity is highlighted by what they do wear. [this remains true despite the real world groups in the swana region that have traditionally topless outfits for men. that sort of respectful and researched depiction of cultural outfits it not what is happening here, clearly]

[note: there are clear elements of ganon's outfit that have a noticeable influence of the samurai, and the outfit is not exclusively made from one source. however the features of the outfit that i am mentioning, the jewellery, toe ring, even the trousers, are not part of the samurai aspect. it is in conjunction with the other coding and features that ganon having a bare torso becomes anything more significant]

which all goes to say that totk ganon's design continues Nintendo's legacy of racism. He is simultaneously dehumanised and sexualised - which only serves to further his dehumanisation. I am not going to ask for or address his role as a villain, what I want is just a modicum of respect.

#totk ganon #gerudo #gerudo tag #moya's loz thoughts #legend of salty #txt #if u don't know me im not open to feedback but block me and move on with your life

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imagines-to-quench-thirst · 1 year

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Bruce Wayne Masterlist

Disclaimer: stories are fictitious and should not be taken literally, the behavior is entirely imaginative and the content may be inappropriate

Updated & repaired: 16/07/2023 (if a story won't load or something else, please message me and let me know)

MAIN MASTERLIST

Fluff🌺 Angst 🌩️ Smut❤️‍🔥

HEADCANONS W/ OTHER CHARACTERS:

Speak In Flowers 🌺 Flowers speak their own words and show their actions. And your man loves to speak it out loud.

Visiting Your Hometown 🌺 how would your boy act when you drag him along to your hometown

Helping You To Accept Your Stretch Marks 🌺your boy helps you accept your beautiful stretch marks as they are...pure perfection

Explaining To Your Man Kdramas🌺I (V) wrote small drabbles that paired my favorite men and dramas that I absolutely love

Dating A Tattoo Artist 🌺 being a tattoo artist and your boyfriend being part of it

When Tough Times Occur 🌺Life itself can be a pain and with its obstacles, it can seem impossible to overcome it but that’s what makes us stronger as people.

Someone Rubs You The Wrong Way With... 🌺 how would your man protect you when someone doesn’t mind your business

Having A Shower ❤️‍🔥having a shower with your man sounds like heaven right?!

One Thing He Loves About You (Physically Or Mentally)🌺 the title spoils the ending a bit

No Nut November ❤️‍🔥in the glory of No Nut November, you make a bet with your liver saying if they fail you cuff them and use them to your liking but if you lose they get to fulfil one of their fantasies. And you are keen on it to make them lose, by any means.

ASKS:

Neon Gift 🌺❤️‍🔥(Robert Pattinson! Batman) the character is really angsty emokid with eyeliner riding a motorbike and soundtrack is Nirvana, so maybe something dark and heavy and of course smutty alone time with Batman? Neon colors appreciated😍😍😍

Boots & Coat ❤️‍🔥 May I request some hot quickie in his Batcave, i believe he would enjoy if his gf surprise him in one of the gloomy days! Maybe some coat and boots with nothing underneath it or idk 👀👀

DRABBLES FROM MY 🧠

Stupid Man 🌺🌩️Bruce uses 'code 4' while encountering the Scarecrow resulting in defining the next moments that would shake up his family and his future

Library Make-Out🌺❤️‍🔥

Bittersweet Tea 🌩️(post break up theme)

Midnight Visits🌺

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne one shot #bruce wayne smut #robert pattinson batman #batman imagine #batman x reader #justice leauge x reader #justice leauge imagine #justice league smut #dc imagine #dc x reader #batmom #batfleck x reader #robert pattinson bruce wayne #bruce wayne masterlist #batman masterlist #gotham imagine #gotham knights

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tare-anime · 4 months

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I've watched Spy x Family Code White!!!!

And and ........!!!!

OmG!!!!

It's so totally awesome!!!

Tbh, I've never watched anime movie that good before!

I might be biased, but truly, it WAS so AWESOME that I'm planning to rewatch it (if I've ever managed to find extra free time)

My full with spoiler review under the cut

So first of all, the animation quality WAS top notch!

They way they draw scenery, background, lighting, camera movements. OmG!! I really love how WIT studio pay so much attention to details. And the smoothness of it.

The scenery of snowy mountains, sun light reflections through crystalize ice, the water...... wow!

And then there were the difference in way of drawing scenes. Like Anya's imagination was drawn so cartoony, meanwhile Yor's fiery 🔥🔥🔥 fight with type F was drawn with so much intensity, and Loid's stealthy fight was drawn with different color as if Loid was in different dimentions than the rest of the enemies because he was the only one in disguises.

This different way of drawing scenes kind of like Spiderman into the spiderverse, but not to that extent. Nevertheless, it's super awesome.

The foods!!! OmG! Those were detailed and awesome food drawings that make me drools 🤤🤤🤤 desserts, main courses, even snacks!! Wooooaaaa

The action!!! I bow down to the animators. WIT studio once again showing off their skills in drawing super awesome fight action scenes. They draw the character movements very well. Even Fiona get her short glimpse of action scene and that's awesome!

Loid's different action tones animation is super awesome, but I have to bow down and thank the animation team in making Yor (my queeeennn 🛐🛐) being super badass!!! The way she ended the fight with type F??? Guh..... I need all my will power not to screamed "That's my queen!!" in the middle of theatre 🤣

Of course like all anime movies out there, we have to lower our expectation regarding plots. (Plot? What plot? We're here to see the family awesomeness 🤣)

We can easily spot the re-use of plot from canon material but was shown in different font, such as:

Yor's jealousy towards Fiona, that leads her thinking she's inadequate mom and wife, that was a result from her overthink her 3 gossipers cowokers

Fiona's obsesiveness in trying to impress Twilight and becoming the Forger mother

Drunk Yor vs Twilight which ended with Yor sleeping

The super direct advance of Twilight that sucessfully making Yor super embarrases that her body instinc injured Loid

Super long and hiperbolic poop joke from Anya

(These managed to make us the audiences LOLed though 🤣🤣🤣)

Not to say, plot holes (?) Or plot that make you go "huh?", such as:

The super unnecessary idea of replacing Loid with other incompetent agent for a mission as important as Op.Strix

The possible stella from a cooking contest that end up all for nothing because of technicallity malfunction

Putting a very valuable microchip inside a common trunk, and all of a sudden was transported in a common train, leniently lying around in a place where a kid can meddle with it. Secured with only 1 very common key.

A secret recipe of dessert that is a secret but the restaurant owner can give the ingridients to stranger because the owner felt guilty that Anya's share was taken by a foodie adult with military power.

An old plane memento that somehow still in prime condition that can be used by Twilight to pursue Anya's kidnappers.

I can't be helped. The animators may not create something that might disturb canon stories afterall. So these plots were just there to drive the story forward, and forward the story goes!!

(Despite all the things I mentioned above, I still enjoyed the story well.)

And then, last but the most important things, the movie managed to deliver the family awesomeness so well!! The animators clearly know the character and character dinamics so very well. And I, again, bow down to them. 🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️

There are so many moments that will make you go "awwwwwww" and give you so much fluff and sweetness you'd have diabetes right away.

The way Loid always tried his best to give the best for the family, but he forget that the family IS the important one. And Yor was there to softly remind him of it. (This scene was so soft I really teared up 🥲🥲🥲🥲)

The way Anya tried her best to help her papa in acquiring the ingridients because that's the mission was, but eventually she got into trouble. And yet at the end Loid was still very proud of her.

The way Yor took care of Anya and play with her during the trip, the way she protected Anya during their initial fight and at the end of the fight (so many mother daughter moments!!!! 🥰🥰🥰🥰)

The difference way of fighting between Twilight and Thorn Princess. Like Twilight will go all stealth and disguises until he can't. Meanwhile Thorn Princess was just strorm right through the front door (or rear wall in this movie), demolishing everything while at the same time politely asking for her daughter and husband 🤣🤣🤣

The way all of family working together so that the plane didn't crash at the town, and the way they laugh (Yor and Anya were laughing out loud, meanwhile Loid was chuckling) when all of them managed to "safely" landed.

Good boy Bond always tried his best to support Anya and even galantly tried to defend her but alas, he was no match to human enemy. 🥲🥲

I was just 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

And really, Endo should take notes.

Because all of these are what make we love Forger family. And that it IS possible to make the family do a mission together without revealing their secrets. Like Loid's lousy excuses that make Yor went wooooww, Yor's even more lousy half lies that Loid believes just like that 🤣🤣🤣🤣 (these two omG!)

I also love how Anya as the captain of TwiYor ship actively pushing her parents. Yes Anya 🥰🥰🥰

I also love how the main villain able to recognize Twilight in disguises via the unusual scent. Like. Woa!! That is so possible!! I mean, latex should have a very distinctive smell afterall.

All in all, truly an amazing first movie!!! I do hope one day the anime team will continue to make amazing movies in the future. 🥰🥰🥰

#spy x family #yor forger #loid forger #anya forger #twiyor #bond forger #sxf movie #sxf code white #spy x family code white #sxf movie review

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jaemmphilia · 1 year

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★ 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 ★ || hwang h.j & lee f.x

★ summary: hyunjin desperately needs inspiration for a painting that's due in his visual arts class. he has to paint the subject on a large canvas using nude colors. the problem is that he can't seem to find a model, he's asked everyone he knows, and it turns out that not everyone wants to sit naked in a uncomfortable pose for hours on end. not even his hyung, chan. well, there's always that really, really attractive boy in his creative writing class, hyunjin has spoke to him a handful of times, he would consider them to be close. hyunjin also knows the boy is a mutual friend of felix's. it wouldn't hurt to ask right?

★ characters: kang y/n, hwang hyunjin, lee felix, chan and changbin are only mentioned once, johnny from nct is also mentioned

★ warnings: threesome, sex on a large canvas, smut, oral (all characters receiving), unprotected sex, (wrap it up yall), nudity, paint in places it really should not be (none of it will be inside of anyone, of course), hyunlix are both whipped for y/n, college au, mentions of alcohol and weed, author says cock too many times to be considered normal, reader is called little doll a few times

★ word count: ~5.8K words (i got carried away again..)

★ requested?: yep, thank you to @belladonna6-6-6 for the idea !!

★ binnie's thoughts: when i got this request dm'd to me i just couldn't resist... hyunlix is just so sexy and i know they'd be the perfect boyfs … enjoy this filthy threesome !!

★ disclaimer: this fic in absolutely NO way represents the stray kids members as people. this is just for fun, so don't take it to heart. just enjoy!

Hyunjin doesn’t know who to ask at this point. He’s asked every single person he knows (which is a lot of people, he’s quite popular on campus, mind you), and every last one of them either flat out said no or they had something to do that day. As he contemplates bribing one of his friends with food, he hears his roommate enter their shared dorm. Felix lets out a heavy sigh as he kicks off his shoes, placing them neatly on the shoe rack they built together during their second year.

Felix is a great roommate, he knows not to touch Hyunjin’s expensive art supplies, and he always asks for permission before entering Hyunjin’s room or his art studio. He also makes the most delicious brownies and cookies Hyunjin has ever had the privilege of tasting. Felix likes his personal space, but he also is fun to talk to. The two of them like to curl up together on their super comfy couch, a weighted blanket draped over their laps as they share a large bowl of sickly-salty popcorn, a stupid and trashy reality show playing on their large television. They both know not to watch ahead of the other, because it’s their thing, you can’t just break the roommate code like that. It’s just part of the rules.

“Hyun, what’s got you so upset? I can just smell the disappointment radiating from you.” Felix calls out, bending down to open their mini-fridge, the poor thing littered with stupid stickers of Pokemon and other random things. Hyunjin sighs again, this time louder as he throws his head back against the armrest, a soft thump coming from the impact. Hyunjin lifts his head up with a pout, his hand coming up to rub the dull throb residing on the back of his head. Felix lets out a chuckle, standing fully with a can of soda in his hand. Felix makes his way to the couch, tapping Hyunjin’s long, slim legs, a gesture telling the male to lift them up. Hyunjin lifts his legs, allowing Felix to sit where they previously were. Hyunjin lays his legs down on Felix’s lap, liking the way the younger male rubs little shapes on his skin.

Felix’s hands are always warm, even after holding a cold soda or a cold beer in his grip. Hyunjin likes to feel the blonde’s hands dancing across his bare skin, soft, supple skin stroking him in all the right places. Of course they’ve hooked up. They’re both healthy young adults who have needs, needs that can’t be ignored for too long. Oftentimes, Felix will waltz his way into Hyunjin’s room and crawl under Hyunjin’s soft blankets. Hyunjin is a light sleeper, so any movement in his bed causes him to stir, his eyes squinting to adjust to the darkness of his bedroom. Felix doesn’t have to say anything, Hyunjin already knows the poor boy had a nightmare and needs a distraction. Well, Hyunjin’s idea of a distraction is filling the male full of his throbbing cock until tears are streaming down Felix’s freckled cheeks.

“I can’t seem to find a model for my visual arts class. I’ve asked literally everyone. Not a single person said yes! Even Chan hyung said no!” Hyunjin whines, his hands covering his eyes as his lips contort in a pout. “And you know Chan hyung loves to be naked at all times of the day, so why would he say no?”

“Maybe because he doesn’t want to sit in a single pose for so many hours?” Felix asks, taking a sip of his soda, his eyes on Hyunjin. “Besides, you didn’t ask everyone. You didn’t ask me.”

“I can’t paint the same person if I’ve already painted them once. I painted you for my final exam last semester, remember?” Hyunjin says, uncovering his eyes to look at Felix as he speaks. He had gotten a near-perfect score on that painting, and it currently sits in the school’s very own art gallery.

Felix hums, remembering having to sit on the grass of the school’s garden, yellow flowers of all kinds surrounding him. He had a good time, except for when a bee decided to land on a flower that was next to his shoulder. Hyunjin’s wide eyes totally gave it away that there was something creeping beside Felix and soon enough, Felix was darting out of the patch of flowers.

“So, I don’t know who to ask at this point. I could always paint myself, but then I would have to take pictures of myself and choose the one that’s best. That would take too long, so my best choice is to just paint someone else.” Hyunjin sighs, grabbing his phone to go through his contacts for the millionth time that day, hoping that he missed someone.

“Wait, I might know someone who can help. I think you know him, he’s in your creative writing class.” Felix says, and Hyunjin is lost. He doesn’t talk to a lot of people in his creative writing class, most of the people around him donning headphones of various brands and kinds. Now that he thinks about it, there is one person he does talk to and has had plenty of nice conversations with.

Kang Y/N, a rather quiet individual with a soft smile that happens to match his overall vibe. He’s a nice guy, always jumping to help anyone who needs it, whether that be studying or helping get rid of a nasty hangover. He just draws people in, the type of person you can’t bring yourself to hate. Only because he would probably just apologize for upsetting you enough to hate him.

“Oh, yeah? Who is it, I’m so desperate at this point, Lix. I will literally paint Professor Shindong, it’s that serious.” Hyunjin says, trying to fight the shiver that creeps up his body as he imagines his professor naked.

Felix lets out a loud snort, coughing as he covers his mouth and nose, fizzy liquid seeping in between his fingers. Through his coughing fit, his body thrashes with giggles and cackles alike. Why would Hyunjin put that cursed image in his head? Might as well add that to his list of nightmares.

Felix finally calms down, wiping his wet hand on Hyunjin’s bare leg, causing the black haired male to playfully kick him in the side. “Let's not even go there. No, I’m talking about Y/N. You know, the same guy who gave Johnny a lapdance at his party?”

How could anyone forget that night? It was truly… something. Everyone was drunk off their asses, some people stripping out of their clothes, some others dancing on tables. Bodies grinding against one another as the music courses through their drunken veins. Hyunjin and Felix had been there to experience the entire thing, even if the two were also very intoxicated. A game of truth of dare had broken out, and everyone resorted back to their middle-school selves, giggling as they grabbed their friends to join in on the circle of other party-goers. Hyunjin was dragged into the circle with Felix, the two of them stumbling as they fell on top of each other, eliciting laughs from everyone around them. They played the game, doing any dare that was thrown at them. The game got interesting when you were asked to give the birthday boy a special lap dance in celebration. You agreed with a nonchalant shrug, influenced by alcohol and weed, quickly made your way to Johnny, who was sitting on the couch, holding a conversation with his fellow hockey player teammates.

You just swung your legs over Johnny’s lap, the bigger male’s eyes widening as he welcomed the newfound weight on his lap. You rolled your hips in circles, your arms wrapped loosely around Johnny’s neck, feeling his growing length under your ass.

Everyone stopped to look at the two of you, some people gasping while others cheered you on. Someone even threw a ten dollar bill at you. Once you felt that Johnny’s lap dance went on long enough, you peeled yourself off of him, going back to join the circle, a sultry sway of your hips as you walked. The night ended with Felix and Hyunjin stumbling into their dorm room, the both of them passing out as soon as the door shut behind them.

“Oh, god,” Hyunjin starts his face lighting up as he remembers the night. “It was Y/N who gave Johnny a lap dance! You would never expect that from him, but to be fair, he was drunk.”

Felix nodded as he took in Hyunjin’s words. “Why don’t you ask him to be your model? You know who he is, so he isn’t a total stranger.”

Hyunjin thought about it for a second. Felix had a point, you really weren’t a stranger to him, you shared a class together. You both often helped each other with writing assignments that had you stumped, and whenever you would see each other outside of class you always offered a smile and a wave to Hyunjin. Every single time you flash that pretty smile at him, Hyunjin can see the lights of heaven calling to him from above.

“I’m convinced and desperate. Do you have his number?”

It isn’t often that you sit on a wooden stool, all of your clothes discarded as you look off to your right, looking out of the window, a solemn look on your delicate features. Actually, this is the first time you have ever done anything like this. Curse you and your need to please people when they ask you for a favor. Your left leg is crossed over your lower half, covering up your soft length. The window casts a soft yellowy-orange glow all over your naked body. You were testing out a few poses while you waited for Hyunjin to return with his mixed paint.

(Of course you have done some questionable things during your time in college, the most memorable one being that time you gave Johnny, the captain of the school’s hockey team, a lap dance at his birthday party last year. You were absolutely hammered that night, and Johnny never held that against you. The two of you still laugh about it to this day.)

Hyunjin stands in amazement as he stares as you pose so prettily on his wooden stool just a few short steps in front of his XXX-Large canvas. He knows he should probably start painting before he gets caught staring at you, but he simply can’t help it. He was surprised when you agreed to be his model, and he was even more surprised when you still agreed to be his model when he failed to mention that you had to be nude. He assumes it's because you’re the type who can’t find it in yourself to say no to anyone. He was shocked when you replied to his text pretty quickly, agreeing to model for him, asking for other details.

Hyunjin shakes his head to remind himself that he has work to do and gets his paint, quickly mixing the colors he needs. Then, a lightbulb goes off in his head. He takes a look at his mixed paint tins, examining the colors. His eyes are darting back and forth, looking at the paint and your skin. He chews on his bottom lip before he picks up a deep brown color that’s almost black.

“Hey, Y/N?” he calls to you softly, his cheeks heating up when you turn your head to look at him, a soft ‘hm?’ coming from you, your eyes wide and curious to hear what he has to say.

“Is it okay if I place a hand mark on your thigh? I think it’ll look good for the theme of the painting,” Hyunjin asks softly, his head tilting to the side as he waits for your approval or disapproval.

“Hyunjin, I’m simply your model, a lifeless doll for you to move and shape to fit your vision. If you feel that a hand print is what will set you apart from the others, then go ahead.”

Hyunjin could listen to you speak forever. You have such a way with words, it’s easy for him to get lost in the words you speak. Hyunjin might not survive for long if you keep buttering him up with the words you say to him and the way you say them.

“Of course, I think the pose you were in was perfect as it was. So, if you could pose like that again, that would be perfect.” He says, covering his hand in a deep brown paint that he mixed up just a few minutes ago.

Hyunjin’s hand is shaky as he walks over to you, his eyes scanning the naked expanse of your soft, milky skin. He counts the blemishes of your skin, noticing that you have beauty marks of various sizes and colors littering your skin. He makes a mental note to include those very marks in his painting. Hyunjin stands in front of you, his mind swimming with thoughts of you, and how truly honored he is to see you in such a soft light, naked and looking as beautiful as ever. He lifts his shaky hand and carefully places it on your bare thigh, not missing the way your leg jolts at the contact.

“I didn’t expect it to be cold,” you let out a chuckle, relaxing once you get past the initial chill of the paint. You feel the warmth of Hyunjin’s hand on your thigh, and your cheeks and ears warm up, finally coming to terms that you are indeed naked in front of your crush. You crushed on Hyunjin from afar, deciding to just adore him from a distance, your friends attempting to hype you up to get you to actually speak to the male. That is until he spoke to you for the first time in class, his eyebrows furrowed, his expression telling you that he didn’t quite understand the assignment. You mentally squealed as you explained the assignment in a way he could understand. From then on, the two of you would have a conversation every day in class, giving each other ideas.

“Sorry about that, I hoped my hand would warm it up enough so that it wouldn’t be so cold,” Hyunjin explains, removing his hand from your thigh, already missing the way your soft skin feels under his touch. “How about we get started? Just pose how you were a second ago, and keep that same expression on your face.”

As Hyunjin adds the final touches to his painting, you are in the bathroom, washing the paint off your leg. You hope the painting looks exactly how he wants it to, otherwise this would have been a waste of time. Well, not exactly a waste, you and Hyunjin had an amazing conversation as he painted you, the two of you learning more about each other to pass the time. You learned that Hyunjin has a pet at home who he loves dearly, and that he loves to paint vases with flowers in them. You also learned that he is pretty close friends with your cousin, Changbin.

Hyunjin also learned a few things about you, the most shocking thing being how you are somehow related to Changbin. You had told him many stories of your childhood with Changbin and how big of a crybaby he was back then. Hyunjin wonders how someone like Changbin, extremely muscular and dedicated to working out, could be such a crybaby as a young kid. You and Changbin are so different, you being on the quieter side, with a soft voice and a soft face to match, while Changbin is a walking tornado siren, his voice distinct and commanding. Hyunjin also learned that you major in English literature, and that you want to become a writer one day. He smiled at the way you lit up as you spoke about writing and how it makes you feel, your eyes shining under the lights of his art studio.

He hears you step out of the bathroom, and he feels your warmth behind him, your hand placed gently on his shoulder, his skin burning under his sweater where your hand lies.

A soft gasp leaves your lips as you stare at the painting. It’s truly breathtaking, you’ve never seen yourself look so… soft and ethereal. No picture could ever capture you the way Hyunjin did. Hyunjin captured your solemn expression perfectly, adding sparkling tears falling down your cheeks. He painted every single detail of your body, every blemish and scar. He even included the splotchy birthmark on your right hip and the small bunny tattoo on the inner part of your arm. The handprint on your thigh is what catches your attention next, Hyunjin made it look smeared, wrapping around the meat of your thigh, tying the painting together perfectly.

“Oh my gosh, Hyunjin..” You start, and Hyunjin swivels his head around to look at you, a soft red on his cheeks as he just smiles cheekily at you. “This is amazing! How do you do it?” You comment your eyes not leaving the painting for a second.

“Well, when your model is as pretty as you are, you find motivation to make sure you capture that beauty perfectly.”

You gawk as you finally look at Hyunjin, your jaw dropped open slightly. He thinks you’re pretty? You can’t help the way your heart beats heavily in your chest that you can feel it reverberating in your ears. You watch as Hyunjin stands up, his taller frame looming over you. Hyunjin doesn’t miss the way his wine red silk robe hangs on your frame, the material falling off your shoulders. You look up at him with wide eyes, face warm and lips slightly parted. Hyunjin brings a hand up to cup your cheek, his eyes searching yours for any discomfort or rejection. When he doesn’t find any, he slowly leans in close to you, and you meet him in the middle, your parted lips connecting with his as you both close your eyes.

Your lips mold together easily, the two of you quickly adding your tongues to the mix. Hyunjin’s tongue fights with yours, saliva gathering at the corners of your mouth as a soft whimper spills from you, your legs feeling weak from the feeling of Hyunjin’s lips on yours. Hyunjin pulls away from you for a second, chuckling as you chase his lips for more kisses.

“Patience, little doll, we wouldn’t want your pretty portrait to get ruined, right?” He says, taking the painting to dry in another area of the room where it won’t get ruined. As he’s placing the finished painting aside, his eyes land on a blank canvas that’s the same size as the one he just placed down to dry. He grabs the blank canvas, placing it on the floor as you stare in confusion.

“Hyunjin, what are you doing with that? You aren’t starting another piece, are you?” You question, your head tilted to the side as you watch Hyunjin retrieve two mid sized buckets of paint. One bucket has dried and crusty paint coating the rim, the color a pastel blue that reminds you of the hydrangeas that your grandmother grew. The other bucket looks like it’s maybe a soft pink color. As you get close to look at the name on the metal bucket, you see that it reads ‘dusty rose.’ You had never heard of such a color, you wondered if it was dark or light. You may not know everything under the sun about colors, but the required art classes you took during your school years have taught you plenty.

Hyunjin uses a flat tool to pop both lids of the paint buckets open, then he looks at you with a faux-innocent smile on his pretty face. There’s something swimming in his dark brown eyes, you can see it. “I want to make a masterpiece with you, little doll.”

Your breath catches in your throat as you catch on to what he means. He can’t really be serious, can he? This is something right out of a raunchy movie about a girl having a dom-sub relationship with a rich CEO that she works for.

“Wait, you want us to– have sex on that canvas?” You question him, your voice small and quiet as you chew on your lip waiting for Hyunjin to reply to your question.

“Only if you're comfortable, I won’t do anything that could make you uncomfortable. If you would much rather us fuck on my bed, that’s fine by me.” Hyunjin says with a smile, his eyes searching your face for any sign of uncomfortableness, but he’s only seeing a bit of uncertainty and a large amount of lust. That’s a good sign to him, you’re still in the mood to fool around with him, you just need a little bit of a push.

“I– I mean, it could be interesting..” You say, trailing off as you have an internal battle with yourself. Did you really want to have sex with Hyunjin on top of a canvas, the two of you covered in paint as you roll around making shapes with your bodies? You would be stupid to say no to something like that.

“I need a real answer, cutie. Yes, or no.” Hyunjin says, now standing in front of you as he lifts your chin up with his fingers, making you look up at him. You gulp as you stare at him, trying to find your voice.

“Yes, Hyunjin.”

You find yourself covered in pastel blue paint, Hyunjin using his hands to rub the paint all over your naked body as he kisses you with fervor. Hyunjin stands before you, his body rid of all clothes, his lean body on display for your eyes. You think he looks like a god. The once orange light of the room, now darker as the night creeps in, dances across his body, turning his sepia colored skin a few shades darker. The sun is slowly sinking away to sleep, allowing the calmness of the night to take over.

Hyunjin pulls away from the kiss and grabs the bucket of dusty rose paint, and prompts you to cover him in the paint as he did for you just a few minutes ago. And you obey, dipping your hands into the chilly paint, and you lightly shake off any excess that drips down your fingers. You bring your hands up to coat Hyunjin’s soft skin that reminds you of those tasty shortbread cookies you receive during the holidays. Your soft hands rub up and down his slim body, your mind racing as you wonder how you ended up here. The intense lust overrides all, taking over any doubts you may have had.

Hyunjin locks his lips with yours again, his eyes closing as he hums into your mouth. You swallow any noise that leaves him, your fingers gripping his supple flesh as you dip your hands in the paint one last time. A sly smile crosses your face as you bring both hands around Hyunjin, lightly slapping your hands on his ass. His body jumps a little, not expecting such an action from you. He feels your hands grip his ass, a cute but evil laugh bubbling in your chest.

“So it’s like that, huh?” Hyunjin questions, cocking one of his perfect eyebrows. He stares down at you as you nod.

Hyunjin just shakes his head as he guides you to lay down on the canvas, his body hovering over your own body. Hyunjin trails kisses form your lips all the way to your neck, leaving a light sheen of saliva in their wake. You tangle your hands in Hyunjin’s long, black hair and you untie the hair tie that’s keeping his hair contained and out of his face. The hair falls gracefully, framing Hyunjin’s face perfectly. You feel goosebump litter your skin as his hair tickles your cheeks.

As you keep kissing Hyunjin, his body laid on top of your skin, sticky from the paint, his body is keeping your legs spread. He’s rocking his body upwards, his soft abs rubbing against your growing length, causing you to moan softly into his parted mouth. His tongue is licking into your mouth, tasting the sweet pastries you ate before you arrived at his dorm. The taste is intoxicating to him, he just can’t stop kissing you. He loves how soft your lips are against his, and how they faintly taste like mint. You can feel the desperation in the way he kisses and touches you, the way his hands roam your body, the paint mixing together, creating a marble-like effect.

“I could kiss you all damn day,” Hyunjin pants out when he finally pulls away to allow you both to catch your breath. Your body is buzzing with excitement, the feeling of Hyunjin’s creamy and soft skin rubbing against your hard length causes a pulsing thrill to course through your veins. Hyunjin can feel the precome leaking from your tip as it coats his body, giving him a nice glide as he continues to rub all on you.

The sound of a door opening shakes both of you out of your dazed and lustful trances. You both turn your attention to the door wide eyed as the person pokes their head into the room. Your body immediately heats up as your eyes land on a mop of blonde hair. Blonde hair that belongs to your gaming partner, Felix. If you weren’t so clouded with high desire and lust, you would be embarrassed. But the fact that you’ve been caught under Hyunjin’s naked body makes your veins tingle.

Felix’s soft brown eyes flick back and forth between you and Hyunjin, his eyebrows furrowed and a slight frown settling on his freckled face. You’re a little confused, why does he look like a kicked puppy? Is he upset that you and Hyunjin are engaging in such an intimate state of affairs? You want to cradle his face and kiss his frown away.

“Oh no, Y/N. We forgot to include poor Lixie. What kind of friends are we?” Hyunjin says as he looks at Felix. Hyunjin waves Felix over, gesturing for the blonde to join in. Felix walks into the art studio, his eyes falling on your body. He takes in the way your legs are spread open, the pastel blue paint coating your skin, with small amounts of dusty rose paint mixed in. He so desperately wants to join you and Hyunjin, and he’s almost positive that you want him to join in as well.

As Felix stands there, not entirely sure what to do, you speak up. “Hyunjin, is Lixie going to be joining us?” You ask.

“We have to make it up to him somehow, don’t you think?” Hyunjin says, and you nod in agreement. Felix’s face warms up, his cheeks and ears turning a soft red color as his heart pounds heavily in his chest. “Come on, Lixie. Get undressed and join us.”

Felix wastes absolutely no time in ridding himself of his clothes. Once he’s fully nude, he kneels down beside your head, his length hanging heavily between his legs. You examine his naked skin, noticing that his freckles don’t stop at his cheeks. You notice the light scattering of freckles on his thighs and stomach and you want to kiss every single freckle.

Hyunjin helps you sit up, and he stands up. “Why don’t you make it up to him, Y/N. Give him plenty of kisses to show how sorry you are for leaving him out. I’ll be back in just a sec.” Hyunjin says as he goes to get some more paint for Felix.

You turn your body and look deep into Felix’s eyes. You notice flecks of light brown in his eyes. His pupils are blown wide as he looks from your eyes to your lips and back again. You both lean in at the same time, meeting in the middle as your lips connect. Kissing Felix is very different from Hyunjin. Felix’s lips aren’t as soft as Hyunjin’s, and the chapped skin rubs against your own lips in just the right way. Fe;ix slides his tongue inside your mouth as his hands find their place on your hips, rubbing little circles on the flesh there. You hum into his mouth as you scoot closer to him, and you find yourself on top of him as he pushes your hips to grind your hard cocks together.

Hyunjin watches you both make out for a while until he’s setting a paint bucket down, causing you to break your kiss with Felix, but not once letting up on the grinding.

“Y/N, why don’t you cover Lixie in some paint? We wouldn’t want to leave him out of this masterpiece, would we?”

After you all are messy and covered in paint, you find yourself on your back as Hyunjin is buried deep inside you, his hips moving at the pace of a snail. Felix is hovering over your head, his cock buried inside your wet, warm mouth. Hyunjin and Felix are kissing messily above you, drops of their mixed saliva falling on your body. You’re whining, the sound slightly muffled by Felix’s cock being forced down your throat. It burns a little, but not in a bad way. You were no stranger to giving blowjobs, but you’ve never taken one that was the size of Felix. He was huge, to be frank. His cock is thick too, you wonder how someone as slim as him could live with such a monster cock. His cock stretches your throat nicely, it makes your eyes roll to the back of your head.

“Look, Lixie. Our little doll’s eyes are rolling to the back of his head. I guess we’re doing a good job of stuffing his holes.” Hyunjin teases and you can hear Felix chuckle as he thrusts into your mouth, and you can feel his short wiry pubic hair touch your chin. You let out a choked noise when he does, spit falling from the corners of your mouth.

“I guess so, Hyun. I have an idea, though.” Felix says, pulling out of your mouth, a string of saliva connecting between your bottom lip and the tip of his cock. He sits back on his heels as he watches Hyunjin stop the slow thrusts of his hips. “Let’s see who can make our little doll cum the fastest, yeah?” Felix says, knowing Hyunjin can’t resist a little competition.

“That’s a perfect idea, Lixie. Why don’t I go first since I’m already inside him?” Hyunjin says. Felix agrees as he grabs his phone to keep track of the time. He sits down by your head again and he starts the time.

Once Hyunjin gets the go-ahead, he starts to slam into you at a brutal pace, causing you to arch your back off the canvas. You let out a high-pitched whine as you feel his hands grab onto your left leg, placing the limb over his shoulder so he can pound into your tight heat much deeper. You cry out, Hyunjin’s name falling from your lips as your body bounces from the force of his thrusts.

Hyunjin grunts continuously as he loses himself in the pleasure. His dark hair is sticking to his forehead and his neck as the small art studio quickly heats up. He can feel the sweat dripping down his body, little drops falling from his nose and into his mouth. He brings his hand to wrap around your angry length, stroking it fast and matching the pace of his hips rocking into you. It doesn’t take long for you to cry out, long and loud, as you spill all over Hyunjin’s hand, the milky white liquid splashing onto your chest. Your body shakes with pleasure as you feel Hyunjin paint your inner walls white with his release. He pumps himself inside you a few more times before he pulls out, watching as the white liquid drips out of your hole.

“Four minutes and twenty-two seconds, Hyun.” Felix says turning his phone to Hynnjin to prove that he isn’t lying.

“Huh, not half bad. Think you can do better, Lixie?’ Hyunjin says. There’s a teasing lightness to his voice, and Felix tuts, handing the older male his phone.

“Tch, of course I can do better. Just watch me.” Felix says as he crawls over to you. He helps you get on your hands and knees. You let him move you, your mind still reeling from the way Hyunjin just railed you like it was nothing.

As you hold yourself up as best as you can, you feel Felix’s length slide its way into you. You feel full, a soft whimper falling from your lips. Hyunjin starts the clock, and Felix is fully inside you, his tip kissing your prostate without him even having to try. He lets you adjust for a few short seconds until he’s absolutely slamming into you. He hits your prostate dead on, and you can already feel that tight coil in your gut beginning to unravel. You let out a string of curses as Felix abuses your hole, your cock dripping in between your legs. You can’t hold it anymore at this point, and you feel yourself gushing all over the canvas below you. You cry out, tears falling down your cheeks as overstimulation takes over your body. You feel your arms giving out as they wobble. Hyunjin, acting fast, makes sure you don’t fall flat on your face as he slides under your upper body, allowing you to fall into his lap. Your ass is still up in the air, your hips held tightly in Felix’s hands. He thrusts a few more times and he finds himself spilling into you, his cum mixing with Hyunjin’s. He pulls out of you, using his thumb to push any cum that attempts to drip out of you.

“Well, looks like you win, Lixie. Three minutes and seven seconds.” Hyunjin says. There’s a pout on his face, not really liking the idea of losing. He’ll have to get over it, because the only thing he’s worried about right now is making sure he and Felix didn’t break you. He strokes your hair as you lay on his lap, breathing heavily, your body twitching every few seconds as you come down from such an intense high.

“We should really clean up. The paint is drying and getting crusty.” Felix says, picking at the soft purple paint that’s drying on his skin. Hyunjin nods, and a smirk creeps onto his face.

“Round two in the shower?”

Oh good lord. Someone please help you.

#binnies req #stray kids #kpop x male reader #stray kids x male reader #stray kids smut #kpop x reader #male reader #skz x reader #hyunjin x reader #felix x reader #stray kids x reader

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atlaculture · 11 months

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Live-Action Promo Pics - Katara

I’ve been hesitant to comment much on the the live-action series, as most of the discourse has revolved around the casting. I’ve already made my ideal ATLA fancast pretty well-known and I don’t feel comfortable harshly critiquing children/teens for not looking like my favorite cartoon characters. At the end of the day, it’s the casting directors that we should hold responsible, not working actors trying to make a living.

However, I have no problem reviewing the costumes--- which I presume were made by industry professionals of adult age. In fact, I’d say the goals of this blog obligate me to give my two cents. So, enjoy my completely subjective take on the promotional costumes:

Katara

What I Liked

Braided hair loopies! This has been fanon for years now, so it’s nice to finally see it done in an official adaption.

They did a good job of translating the wave pattern on Katara’s coat into something more elaborate.

The fur trim is good, although I wish the fluff around her hood was a bit fuller and thicker.

I like her hair beads.

What I Didn’t Care For

It feels like cosplay. Mind you, I love cosplay, but it’s a very different beast from movie costuming. Cosplay is about imitating the 2D designs as closely as possible; movie costuming is about taking the 2D designs and making them functional.

The blue color-coding in the show works for a cartoon, but less so in real life. A coat for a live-action Katara should look like it was made from real animal furs, and synthetic blue fur is just never going to give that effect.

The coat looks too new. It should look more worn, considering this is everyday wear for her.

In general, the coat looks nice but cheaply made. Like it could be a costume you’d buy for Halloween called “Arctic Water Girl”.

Overall, I give it 5 water whips out of 10.

Like what I’m doing? Tips always appreciated, never expected. ^_^

https://ko-fi.com/atlaculture

Click below for links to how I wish her coat looked.

I had a feeling this would be the direction they would take with the Water Tribe, but I still can’t help but feel disappointed. I’ve been spoiled by the better realized interpretations I’ve seen in fanart, with more realistic fur parkas and blue detailing. This is all personal preference, of course, but just take a look at all of the beautiful interpretations of Water Tribe clothing out there:

https://www.tumblr.com/ash-and-starlight/704817804388548608?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/ash-and-starlight/693847558563430400?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/chiptrillino/717611956655325184?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/chiptrillino/698450671239921664?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/chiptrillino/692656226353463296?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/chiptrillino/642057819823243264?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/atlaculture/719418204708061184?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/bernard-the-rabbit/705601232213049344?source=share

#avatar #atla #Avatar The Last Airbender #water tribe #atlaculture

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kivino · 8 months

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TAKE US BACK || ZOMBIE AU || KYLE ‘GAZ’ GARRICK X GN!READER

Word Counter – 6.4k words

Summary – The new world was rotten, and you rotted away with it.

Tags/Warnings – Zombie AU (heavily twd coded, don’t expect some l4d type of stuff /lh. Death and turning after the bite ARE slower, however. For the sake of drama. obviously), gore, blood, gn!Reader, established relationship, heavy angst, major character death.

A/n – So, this fic is my contribution to the spooky season! Special thanks to @mockerycrow for helping me with the pictures for the header, you're the best, pookie!!! I have a playlist for this fic too, so in case you want to read this with complete immersion I’ll link it here. Enjoy <333

also available on my ao3

upd. if you saw that unfinished paragraph you didn’t see anything, move along 👁️👁️

“Kyle, I think…I think I’m bitten.” was all it took to shatter him into millions of tiny pieces. Just like that. Nothing mattered anymore, even that you promised each other to stay alive, no matter what. In the back of his mind, he knew all those promises muttered into his lips while he feverishly kissed you were empty, shallow attempts to silence his mind, to make him sleep in peace, thinking you’ll be there no matter what. And of course, he didn’t doubt your words even for a split second.

Kyle knew he was a fool to believe that. To think the two of you were inseparable. In a world like this, how could one even think of something staying forever untouched by decay that spread far beyond the horizon? Rot overtook everything, and if something was still untouched by it, soon enough that wither would find a way to slither inside, spoiling it forever. It would even find its way into people’s minds, ruining humanity in a manner no physical disease could ever hope to damage them. Kyle and you have seen it happen far too many times, and his only wish was for you to meet your end together, peacefully. But now…he only wished he had the strength to go on, he truly did.

Because you needed him. Now more than ever.

And so, he kept trying. If he didn’t then both of you would be done for. You didn’t deserve that, not when all he wanted was for you to be safe and well, not caring much about himself. You were the one who saved him when all the shit went down, now it was time to return the favor. So, he pushed himself through every agonizingly slow day. But he was starting to feel the already feeble remains of his strength slipping away from him. He wouldn’t give up, however. Never. Not when your life depended on it.

That’s why while you were bedridden, weakness setting in your body as a permanent, bitter resident, Kyle was scouring the old town for fever and cold medicine, trying to be as quiet as possible, not to attract any undead. He had a gun, but he did not use it – too loud and bullets were a luxury, not a commodity. Kyle only had one bullet, following the advice of a nice older man with mutton chops he remembered meeting in one of the survivor camps a long time ago.

“Always save the last bullet for yourself or your loved ones. You never know who’ll need it more”

Methods aside, recent days were spent wandering abandoned houses in attempts to find at least some food for the two of you. Only when the darkness started to settle, Kyle would head back, throwing his backpack over the fence and barely managing to climb it, sore muscles and empty stomach sending jolts of pain all through his body. Even then, he was restless, sitting by your side, wiping your forehead of sweat, and taking your temperature. Your breathing was strained, chest rising and falling under thin blankets that barely kept you warm. And each time he looked at you for more than a minute at a time he felt his insides twisting in pain, eyes getting white-hot with tears, and throat closing, barely letting him take a short breath just so he doesn’t suffocate in his misery.

And then the sun rises, warm rays painting the room in a variety of colors, falling over your face, morning birds wake up Kyle from his nightmare-filled sleep. He jolts awake from the dreams, filled with the image of you, dying in agony over and over, crying out for help, begging him to do something. You get torn apart, your intestines spilling out on the damp floor, pulled out by a crowd of the undead who devour you with vigorous hunger, biting into your flesh until he can’t recognize your face from the bloody and mangled pulp that rotting hands and jagged teeth turn you into. Your raw, pained screams haunt him even when he’s awake, observing you lose your life all over again. Much slower and in a much more painful way.

The sun rises. And so does Kyle. Your desperate pleas that drag from the dream are muffled as soon as he sees you sleeping. Forgetting, that you were getting weaker with each day that passed. Choosing to bask in your tranquil glow, in the way your eyelashes fluttered while you slept, choosing to neglect the worry clawing on the back of his mind just to stay like this with you for a little longer. Kyle knew he couldn’t delay the inevitable, but he still decided to make the best out of the short amount of time he had left with you. Hoping that some miracle would happen and you wouldn’t succumb to the decay. That the bite would turn out to be a bad dream you both had on the same night, waking up from it in cold sweat, searching for the comfort of each other’s embrace, while letting out relieved sighs, realizing that you’re safe.

That would be great, wouldn’t it?

Instead, he shakes you awake with a gentle hand, almost not wanting to wake you up from your slumber. You blink up at him, looking even more tired than before you went to sleep. Circles under your eyes are even darker than the previous night. And Kyle is in pain once again. He wants to help you up, throwing your arm over his shoulder, to lead you through the long, silent halls of the school where you were staying, full of dust and damp, moldy smell, to have breakfast together. Like good old times. But he sees that in your eyes, you’re too weak to pull your weight up and stand up. So, he brings the heated-up cans of beans here, putting one on a stool in front of you, helping you to sit up before he even thinks of touching his food.

“Kyle, that’s twice what I usually eat.” You mutter, watery eyes rising to him, sitting on the mattress in front of you with his legs crossed. He raises his eyebrow and his head shifts to the side in a questioning motion.

“Well, you have to eat plenty to recover.” He said, matter-of-factly. You stay silent, unwilling to have that debate right now. You barely managed to stay awake as it is. Let him think that you’ll get better, despite everything you saw together. Despite every rule that you’ve discovered. Let him live in the illusion, in the waking dream that all will be well if he tries hard enough. “Well, what are you waiting for? It’s growing cold”

You didn’t realize that you’d been drilling the can of steaming beans in front of you with your glassy gaze for the past several minutes, submerged in your thoughts deep enough to suffocate. You pick up the spoon with a weak, shaky motion. Then your eyes fall on the can. Somehow, you knew that you wouldn’t be able to pick it up. Failing at something so simple…you knew it’d hurt your pride even more. So, you opted to push the tin closer to the edge of the stool.

Kyle glanced over at you, beads of sweat glistening on your forehead. He sensed the fatigue from you, lacing the air that surrounded you and leaving dark, oily traces over anything your fingers lingered on. You breathed sickness. Your hands, which were able to easily bash an undead’s head on the wall just several days ago, now could barely hold a spoon steady without it trembling and threatening to fall, spilling all the contents over the moth-eaten blanket. He felt his heart squeeze in pain, and he swore that something shattered inside of him once again.

“Let me help you.” Although it sounded like an offer, Kyle didn’t look like he was going to let you debate it, shuffling closer to you, taking the spoon from your hand in a swift motion. You purse your lips, knowing that protesting that would be stupid. If it wasn’t for how weak and sick you were, and for a lot of other circumstances, it would be a cutesy moment. Your dear spoon-feeding you something? Please, one’s teeth would rot from how sweet it is. But now it was just another deep, bleeding gash on your pride. Kyle blows on the food, cooling it off and promptly moving it towards your mouth with his hand cupped just under the spoon. You obediently clamp your lips around the spoon. “There we go.” He gives you a small smile, but you see the melancholy in his eyes when Kyle wipes the corner of your mouth with his thumb. He means well, yet you can’t help but feel like you’re a burden to him.

You loathed being like this. Being this weak. Fragile. You were able to fend for yourself, you had resilience and strength, but now you were just rendered useless, only dragging Kyle down, depriving him of the freedom to go on.

He’ll die if he continues like this.

You knew it. He was exhausted, and you’ve been like this for a little over a week. Survival wasn’t about skill anymore, it was about luck. You lost yours already, the moment rotten, jagged teeth sunk into the flesh of your forearm like it was butter, drawing the first blood. But Kyle, he…sooner or later he will lose his luck too. And it was apparent that it was coming sooner than you anticipated. A bullet he won’t be able to dodge. An infected scratch. An undead that he simply didn’t notice because of how tired he is. A bear trap in the vicinity of someone’s camp. Something will get to Kyle. Or someone. And thankfully, you won’t be here to witness it. Hopefully.

“What are you doing? Where are we going?” You barely managed to mutter out, clinging to him with all the strength you had, which, to be fair, wasn’t a lot. He could feel the cold of your hands clasped around his neck even through several layers of his clothes. Kyle’s hands carefully held you under your thighs as he went up the stairs, not showing any signs of exertion except for beads of sweat on his temples.

“Just thought we might watch the sunrise together, like good old days” You could hear the soft smile that tugged on his mouth when he said that. Another reminder for you that he probably loathed the way you lived right now and would prefer to go back to the way things were. With you not being his…burden.

You didn’t need to be reminded of this. Of the “good old days”. Finding that abandoned farm, deep in the buttcrack of the countryside was what saved the both of you when the world started going to shit. You and Kyle met each other years prior, but it didn’t matter anymore. Not when everything as you knew it was gone.

Hiding there gave you a sense of normalcy you missed so much, after having to live for months, years like an animal. You didn’t feel like the world as you knew it was falling apart beyond that fence with cracked white paint. Deserted fields full of dead crops, empty house with a bunch of stuff forgotten or thrown around messily - it was obvious the owners wouldn’t come back any time soon. Snooping around gave you too much information - you couldn’t help but feel a bitter burn on the back of your throat when you picked up a framed family photo from the fireplace, five tan faces staring back at you with perpetual smiles etched into the glossy paper.

You didn’t have the gall to throw away or burn everything personal the previous family left behind. Photo albums, children's clothes and toys, diplomas, drawings, letters, posters, and even something as small as shopping lists on the fridge, five life stories were packed into several boxes, taped and put in the attic. Kyle didn’t understand your wish to preserve something that wasn’t even yours, but he didn’t interfere, choosing to give you a hand instead. If it helped you to sleep in someone else’s bed calmer, replacing the presumably dead strangers, he was willing to indulge you.

Despite how far away from the civilization this farm was, seeing an undead roaming around wasn’t a very rare occurrence, but at least you could handle the occasional walking corpses. You wake up, you go on patrol. You finish patrol, and you meet the sunrise with Kyle by your side, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, with a blanket thrown over the both of you, sitting on the front porch, right on the creaking stairs. These fleeting moments felt so right. Like home.

Eventually, you had to continue moving. Started to run short on supplies ever since then. Running into all sorts of different people, relying on strangers, leading a nomad way of life. It wasn’t unfulfilling, since you only needed the company of each other to keep it together. In a variety of groups that you’ve been through it was always a known fact that you’ll stick by each other before someone else.

All he needed was your loving hug when you came back from a supply run. A soft kiss that you would put on that scar right on his cheek. Or to hold your hand under the table when you sat down to eat with whatever group you were with this week, like your love for each other was a secret meant only for the two of you. All you needed was his warmth, his comfort, his mere presence, that would light up your shitty day like a damn light beam. He managed to take your breath away each time he looked at you with such gentleness and softness that sometimes you didn’t think you deserved it. You’ve found the world in each other. A purpose.

So what is Kyle going to do when you’re gone?

The morbid thought suddenly crosses your mind, while the man carefully sits you down on a worn lawn chair with a soft grunt, plopping down on the ground by your side, warm palm reassuringly resting on your thigh. Bringing you down to earth. Gusts of frosty wind brush through your hair, nipping at your cheeks, nose, and ears. You missed the outside, despite it being quite cold and unwelcoming this time of the year.

“I think the herd's close. See that dust?” Kyle taps you lightly on your leg and points towards the horizon. And true to his words, there is a fine dark line separating the sky, burning up in a mix of reds and yellows, from the earth. “They’re moving weird.”

“What does that mean?” you croak at Kyle, not able to peel your eyes from that sheet of gray, bunched-up dust that sat on the edge of the horizon like a shadow.

“Means if we’re lucky they’ll pass the school.” Kyle mutters, trying to reassure you, giving your thigh a gentle squeeze.

And then it clicks.

When he came back from the supply run you were nowhere to be found in the wind-torn building. There were no traces of you in the old cafeteria on the first floor where the two of you would heat up the canned food that your taste buds got used to over the long months the end of the world stretched over. Before you got bit.

He felt his heart sink to his stomach, so nauseous from the mere thought of something happening to you. Kyle fought himself not to double over, press his forehead against the wall and throw up everything you two had for breakfast until he feels the acidic burn on his tongue and cries his damn eyes out from the pain. You knew that the herd was getting closer, why did you have to disappear right now? You two were supposed to wait it out together, by each other’s side. What were you doing, and more importantly, what were you thinking? Nothing made sense. Nothing at all.

Kyle felt the wall with an awkward, stiff motion of his hand, before putting his weight on it and sliding down, he felt like his legs could not hold him anymore. You barely had the strength to sit upright, where would you go in your condition?

The only place he could think of that was close enough for you to get to was the motor inn down the street. Of course.

The herd was already here. Kyle had no time to spare, he needed to act now, to get you and run away as fast as possible. He remembered there was a car in that old motor inn, so that could be your getaway plan, sure thing he could figure something out…and to get there…He can use that old trick that another group of survivors taught you two. “If you smell like them, they won’t notice you, simple as that. Just make sure not to bump into anyone, or they’ll get real friendly with you.” Of course. It was that easy. You never resorted to that trick, preferring to avoid or dispose of the undead on sight. But desperate times call for desperate measures.

Kyle cringed at that sinking feeling in his stomach, but not at the thought of having to walk through the herd and probably be eaten alive, no. The possibility of you not being in that motor inn was what made that hollow pit inside of him grow. The fact that he might never see you again. Or that he would find you already gone.

He moves with calculated precision. Catch the undead’s attention, yellowish whites are dull under the daylight. Let it get close enough, it groans with each movement, joints snapping and clicking. Make the undead lose its balance, kick it in the knee, and the rotting leg almost falls off under the force that Kyle unintentionally applies. Destroy the brain, put a hunting knife right to the forehead, and let it thud to the ground, finally at rest. He’s thoughtlessly going through the motions, every step ingrained into his consciousness, almost like second nature to him. Rips through the stomach of the undead, black, resinous blood oozing out. Sinks his hands in the intestines, they smell so strong Kyle tears up and gags, hands shuffling around clothes caked with dirt and grime, swiping putrid, nasty mass all over himself. But it’s nothing. It’s alright. It will be worth it when he finds you.

After that, everything he remembers is under a thick blanket of haze, accompanied by the smell. You never get used to it. He feels nauseous, his insides twisting in worry, gnawing and biting at his heart like a terrified, desperate dog. His eyes grasp onto anything, but all Kyle sees is the sea of rotting flesh all around him, groans and moans of the undead so echoing in his ears loud all he wants is to tumble to the ground and end it all. He barely breathes with how tight his chest is squeezing his heart, it feels like in a split moment his insides will collapse onto themselves, capturing him in this meat cage. He has to remind himself that he’s not doing it for himself, he’s doing it for you, only for you. Kyle has to let his thoughts travel to your voice, to the way your nose scrunched when you laughed, to the frown between your brows when you slept in his arms just so he doesn’t go mad. Stares from decomposing, milky white eyes with yellows, blues, and reds here and there felt like stabs right through him, each could be the last if he gave himself away.

He could be grabbed by any of the half-rotten hands with sickly yellowish bones sticking out like spears of the cavemen, bitten, dragged away, or devoured. But he pressed on through the seemingly endless crowd of the undead. He would be lying if he said it didn’t affect him. That abandoned motor inn was like a beacon right now, but his imagination still ran wild, his hope growing more and more dim with each minute spent away from you. He didn’t feel like any hero. Kyle was scared. Mostly for you, but he could feel the tremble in his knees at the mere thought of any undead in the crowd recognizing him as an impostor. If that happens, he won’t be able to mutter even a single word. Rotten fingers will dig into his flesh, tearing it apart and Kyle will meet his end like this, on the damp ground, abandoned and scared out of his damn mind.

When Kyle pressed himself against the closed door of the motor inn, he finally could breathe in again. It wasn’t the time for a break, however. He still needed to find you. He wanders through the dusty, ransacked rooms in a daze, fixated on finding any traces you left, noticing the old rusty car in passing. The getaway plan. If the two of you are lucky enough. Footprints in the dust. They look new, and similar to the ones on the soles of your old boots. He follows. Your thin blanket lies forgotten on the stairs. Kyle practically flies up to the second floor, picking up the blanket, while he’s at it. More footprints in the dust, door to some old office is left ajar.

First, you felt the smell. Then you heard him cry out your name in surprise. And then you finally saw Kyle. He’s a blur of red, black, and brown. Covered head to toe with blood, guts, rotting flesh, and dirt, you presume. A sad, heartbreaking sight. Kyle, however, doesn’t mind it and immediately runs towards you, falling on the floor with a loud thud, and you’re sure he might’ve scraped his knees with how hard he landed. His arms cage you in a tight hug and you hear him let out a shaky exhale. Tears start to sting your eyes when you feel him pressing your head into his shoulder, stroking you with a gentle motion. You weren’t sure if he was trying to comfort you or reassure himself that you’re real, and not a fragment of his imagination. Regardless, you manage to reciprocate the hug, raising one of your arms and wrapping it around his back.

All of these days you saved up your energy for the last push. You needed to get away from him. You couldn’t trust yourself to remain near Kyle anymore. Any moment you could turn. You felt it in the way your bones ached with every gust of wind, how your blood boiled under your veins and your vision turned even more blurry. And in that case, you’d be a threat to Kyle, possibly getting him at his most vulnerable. It didn’t matter that you’d be long gone by then, you would still never forgive yourself if there was any possibility of it happening. Because, deep down you knew. No matter how skilled and ruthless Kyle was with handling the undead…he didn’t have it in him to bash your head in. So, you only had one choice to ensure his safety.

Yet he finds you. Here. You could feel your cheeks burn from being so angry at him, for his lack of acceptance that you were on the brink, and all it would take for you right now to fall into the abyss would be a light gust of wind or a slight shove. But you couldn’t blame him. You thought a lot about what you would do if the roles were reversed. The scenario brewed in your mind, haunting those short hours you were awake and trapping you in restless dreams.

You would want to live in illusion too.

“There you are.” You could practically feel something inside of you crack when you catch his smile beaming at you. Kyle just went to hell and back to get to you. And he still finds it in himself to smile at you, wrapping the blanket around your shoulders with hurried, but soothing movements. You were so weakened by the bite that you couldn’t even find any strength to go down the stairs and get the blanket when you dropped it. Humiliating. “Come on, we have to go, now, we can’t stay here.” He tries to scoop you up in a warm hug again, but you dig your heels into the ground. “Are you alright? Are you hurt?” he looks at you again, trying to catch what is wrong,

“No.” Kyle looks you over, eyes open wide, expression of confusion and sadness on his face. Of course, he doesn’t understand.

“You don’t…have anything on you. Then how, how did you even…” You didn’t have any grime on you at all, looking like you just walked through the herd of the undead without any preparation. But then his eyes trail lower and he sees it. Your left hand, cuffed to the rusty radiator. Suddenly the wave of terror cuts through him, like a fine, thin string through a block of fresh clay.

You came here to die.

“They stop paying attention to you once you’re far along enough. So…I guess that’s it.” He hated you for saying that. God, he hated you so much, he wanted to cling onto your body and suffocate you, arms wrapped around you in weak, pathetic attempts to shield you from any harm. “I…I don’t have any time left.” Kyle felt like he got punched in the gut. Air squeezed out of his lungs, wheezing in pain that he felt for you, because of you, chest aching, tearing apart, and baring his heart under the cage made of bones.

“No. No, no, no, no, you can’t say that! Why are you saying that?” And for the first time, since Kyle saw the bloodied, ragged teeth marks on your flesh, he broke down into minuscule, fragile pieces right in front of you. His voice trembled, frantic and exerted, refusing to believe you even dared to make peace with the inevitable. He grabs your shoulders firmly and his fingers dig into you so hard he can feel how cold you are through your clothes.

Key. He has to release you from the handcuffs. The herd was here, the way the floor vibrated under his feet, and the way gargled moans and sighs echoed outside made Kyle even more agitated. Where did you get those handcuffs anyway? It only takes a moment for him to remember. One of the supply runs that feels like a lifetime ago. Police station. Searching the bodies, or rather, what was left of them, for anything useful. You take out the handcuffs and show them to Kyle, telling him some kind of joke. He can’t remember what it was or the way you smiled, only that you made him laugh.

He wished instead of quiet rasping he could hear your laugh again.

“Where is the key from the handcuffs, where did you put it?” Kyle jumped to his feet and started looking over the room in a hurry, suffocated by the fear of losing you. He was wishing, hoping that you would show him where you hid the key, somewhere, anywhere, Kyle needed to throw you on his back and run right this moment.

“Fuck, listen to me, listen. To me.” you tried to snap him out of his delirium, with your harsh tone, freezing palms digging the bloodstains Kyle left on your blanket “You know what you have to do.” He shook his head wildly, looking at you like were mad for even suggesting something like this. “I don’t want to become one of them! You have to make sure I won’t come back.”

“Have you lost your damn mind?! I-” Kyle didn’t understand you. How can you say, make a request like this? Something was fundamentally wrong and the bite, the illness were to blame.

“Have you?” you interrupted, pouring all of your strength into this yelling match. You didn’t care anymore. You felt your fingers going numb, black, inky spots dancing on the edges of your vision, taunting you in their vicious dance macabre. You did not have time for his lame excuses and whatever it was he was trying to be right now. “I’m asking you one thing, and you can’t even do that! What the fuck is wrong with you?!” You couldn’t feel the way tears burned your cheeks.

“Listen to me, please! I’m not putting a bullet in your head; do I look like a fucking murderer to you?” Kyle pinches his brow in frustration, not even able to look at you right now. Every single suggestion and comment from you stings, fucking hurts and tears him open once again. Because you’re talking nonsense. Absolute bullshit. And you don’t even realize it, he thinks, blinded by your sudden chase after death.

“I’m fucking dying and you’re worried about not being a murderer? Are you being fucking serious right now?” You couldn’t believe your ears, quite frankly. It was the only thing that you had asked of him. The only thing that you wanted. To be finally released. You couldn’t bear it anymore. Your body working against you, living with the constant threat of turning any second, massacring and desecrating Kyle’s corpse as a bloodthirsty, disgusting creature, that will have your face, your body, your hands, and your voice, but not anything that makes you – you. No memories. No love. No inner strength and compassion. Just hunger and urge to slaughter, destroy, and ravage everything in your sight.

“You know that’s not what I meant! Why are you doing this right now?” Kyle felt like he was about to collapse into himself from despair. He couldn’t just do what you were suggesting. And you knew it, yet you chose to ignore it and refuse any acceptance? You always listened to him, even if you didn’t quite agree. You always were patient with him. What’s gotten into you now, what happened?

You don’t have any more time. That’s what happened.

“Oh, so I run away, trying to keep you safe so you live another day and see another one of these stupid sunrises, cuff myself here just so I don’t harm anyone and you can’t even do what I’m asking you to?!” Your voice rises to a volume you didn’t even know you had in you right now, after dragging yourself through the imitation of your former life for a little less than a week. To think your suffering so far lasted less than a week, yet you were ready to end it all right this moment.

Because you could feel it in your bones. You were close.

“Well, tell me, what’s the point of me living if you’re dead?!” You can hear the way his voice breaks in the end. Desperate. Pleading.

The silence rings in your ears with how loud it is.

“I’m sorry.” You croak at him after a short while, eyes trained on the dirty floor. Kyle chuckles, the sound that you love so much, but then it’s followed by a muffled sob. He kneels in front of you once again and your eyes rise to meet his. You can’t help but think that he looks even more beautiful covered in rotting guts, with his eyes full of light and love for a doomed failure like you.

It’s almost impossible to breathe from how hard your heart aches. God, you love him so much. You want to take all the pain from him with you, into the vile, putrid abyss. Kyle takes your hands in his. You’re terrifyingly cold. And he’s too warm. You feel tears rising to your eyes, prickling at them, as you fail at your attempts not to break down right now.

“I can’t stay mad at you when you make that face.” Kyle says with a small laugh that breaks into dry sobs, as his shoulders shudder violently with every single one, before he clings onto you, seeking comfort and reassurance, that you’ll be here. With him.

His embrace feels suffocating. It’s so tight you think any more pressure from him will break your bones into yellowish sharp daggers and fine dust. And you’d forgive Kyle if that happened. You’d forgive him for anything, quite frankly. Funny, how now you have the answer to what you would do if he was the one turning. You’d let him devour you wholly, in the ultimate show of love. You’d let him bite into you, whatever he wanted – neck, arm, a leg, he could have. You’d lay in the pool of your blood, muffling your pained cries by stuffing that worn blanket into your mouth. You’d slowly slip away into oblivion, letting your undead beloved gnaw on your bones and taste the love that would seep out of your flesh. You would probably turn a lot faster if that happened too. And then you’d be together for eternity. You knew Kyle always wanted you two to be together. Both in life and in death.

“I’ll wait for you. I promise.” You barely manage to squeeze a smile out of yourself to comfort Kyle, feeling your strength leaving you. Succumbing to the weakness that spread a dull ache over your body, to that festering rot inside of you, that was finally overtaking. You felt cold, thin digits of terror sink right through your chest, sweat prickling once again on your forehead and temples. There was no use clinging unto something that was unsalvageable. Your body and your mind were beyond repair. You knew it. Only he kept you here.

“Please…don’t leave me.” Kyle couldn’t feel anything besides the pain and hot needles jabbing his eyes. Your touch almost felt unreal, how weak, subtle it was. He tore away from you only for a moment, bloody palms cupping your face. His lips pressed against yours in a quick, feverish kiss, and even more pecks like this followed – to your forehead, eyelids, corners of your mouth, and nose. As if this would save you from inevitably losing the remains of your strength. As if you weren’t clinging to your last seconds with him as it is. “Please…please.” He whispered against your skin. His tears glittered like gemstones in the dim glow of the sunset. Kyle looked so beautiful like this. Yours.

He missed the moment when he stopped feeling short, warm breaths on his neck and your body started to get cooler to the touch. But he wasn’t ready to let you go just yet. A little more time, that’s all he needed. So, he lays your head across his lap, carefully, gently. Like he’s trying not to wake you up from a peaceful dream about places far better than this world. Kyle desperately tries to find that strength to make sure you won’t come back, to grant your last wish, but he just…he can’t. Now when you were right here, beside him, getting your well-deserved rest.

But you started stirring back to life unexpectedly, and just when Kyle wanted to say something, he realized, that it wasn’t quite you. The glazed-over eyes with a milky white cloud over them looked right through him, the blood that was dripping down from your nose, ears, eyes, and mouth after your brain finally shut off from the illness. The strained rasp, full of pain and hands that started grabbing and clawing at Kyle with crooked fingers, contorted into bizarre figures.

Kyle’s heart leaped down to his feet again in fear and he forced himself to push away your undead form, reaching out to him, pleading for something he no longer understood, as he crawled away, still facing whatever you turned into. If his heart wasn’t pumping blood through his body as fast he would’ve felt the small cuts from scraping his hands on the dirty floor. But his eyes were on what was left of you.

There were no traces of what he was searching for in this hollow shell, stolen from his love, stolen from you. Crimson trickling down from the mouth, the creature in your shape bares its bloody teeth and lets out a gargled moan, stretching the trembling hand towards him, demanding flesh, demanding sacrifice. And in Kyle’s mind, this isn’t you. This just can’t be. Absolutely not.

Kyle thought about the way you held him in your arms, while he gripped his shoulders in a tight hug. He thought of the way your thumb brushed over his knuckles. His thoughts traveled to the distant past, when you met him years ago in that summer camp, even before the world started rotting, only to be reborn a sick copy of itself. He remembered your smile when you sat near countless bonfires. The way fire played in your eyes. Your old leather jacket, the tent in your old survivor camp, the older man with mutton chops.

It wasn’t long before a bullet was between his fingers, being drilled by his sharp eyes. Kyle sat there, silent, eyes trained on the gun in his hand, unable to even look at your cuffed undead. Contemplating. Letting his mind stir around, thoughts sticking to the inside of his skull, brewing and bubbling there, like heavy resin. Kyle’s heart sent waves of dull, ringing ache all over his body. His eyes were on fire, burning and raw from tears.

Nothing made sense anymore. Kyle’s endless search through his mind landed on another memory again. Survivor camp in the forest. Ring of mountains to the west. A woman with dark, brown eyes and a shaved head.

“Turning is not the end. They still harbor the memories of their former selves. They’re just prisoners in their own bodies. I know that it’s not the end for them, it can’t be.”

Right now, Kyle would’ve clung to any lie that would explain to him your state. He would’ve believed any tale. You can’t just be gone in an instant, just shedding all that made you yourself like a snake sheds its skin, or a bird picks out the old feathers. How could he ever accept that you were gone, like a puff of smoke on the wind, leaving no visible trace, only the gaping, bloody hole in his heart and years’ worth of memories in his head?

All he ever wanted was to be with you. In life and death.

A minute passes. Another one follows.

A single gunshot echoes through the valley, drowned out by the rumble of the herd.

Taglist - @mockerycrow, @stridersdiner

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