#oh but everything about me shows i am far from it
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
totalswag · 3 days ago
Text
podcast therapuss ⎯ DREW STARKEY
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
authors notes first time writing influencer!reader, i like it so far. this idea popped into my head the other day after watching one of jake’s episodes. there's no face claim for influencer!reader, i added this picture for the ideal theme.
taglist ― if you would like to be notified every time i post you will type in your username then be all set to go.
masterlist
summary joining jakes podcast talking about various topics then mentioning not getting the chance to meet drew starkey. clips of you talking about him goes viral which leads him to reaching out to you.
warning(s) none!
Tumblr media
About a month ago, your manager texted you about doing a podcast with Jake Shane, and you quickly said yes. You contacted him shortly after your managers confirmed it, expressing your excitement. Since then, you've grown closer and spent the night before the episode was filmed.
The two of you went out to dinner and got to talking about various of topics. It was a great way to get to know each other. You consider each other as friends now.
You've used social media since you were fifteen years old. You began by posting YouTube videos, and you continue to do so. Tiktok became another source of content to promote, including daily vlogs, hilarious content, and so on. Nothing would make you change it.
Everyone was getting settled before filming began. Jake started off by talking about a few topics then you came in. You were super excited about doing this.
“Welcome to Therapuss! "We've got the incredible Y/N here today," Jake says, gesturing toward you as you relax into the comfortable chair across from him. You flash your characteristic smile, which your followers enjoy. The cameras roll, but it feels natural—just another day in your life, sharing your thoughts and experiences with the world.
"Stop it!" you chuckle, shaking your head. "But seriously, Jake, thank you very much for having me. "I am a huge fan of the podcast."
"You're too kind," he replies, smiling. "So, let us dig in. You've experienced an unimaginable rise on social media. Your vlogs are really addictive, your TikToks are continuously trending, and everyone adores you. "How does it feel?"
You enjoy answering questions like this. They are your favorite because you don't always get to discuss what inspired you for doing this.
"It's surreal, honestly," you acknowledge. "I started YouTube my freshman year of high school because I wanted to look back on the moments I made. I never imagined it would turn out like this. It has been a whirlwind, but I am grateful for it."
Jake takes it all in, leaning forward and resting his chin on his hand. "Based on what I've seen, your content is incredibly diverse in your vlogs, TikTok, and lifestyle tips. Tell me, how do you balance all of that?" He asks, intrigued by what you do.
You respond to the question by explaining how you learned to draw boundaries over time. You prefer to keep a lot of things private that do not affect the outer world. As your audience grew, you formed a unique bond with them.
"Do you have a show you've been obsessed with lately?" Jake asks you while laughing and raising his eyebrows.
"Duh, Outer Banks pookie!" Before you laugh and toss your head back theatrically, you smirk. The statement, "I love all characters, Rafe is my favorite," leaves Jake speechless.
"Let me explain, his character is so interesting and yes, he's a psycho," you huff, putting your palms up in defense.
Jake and you keep talking about the show and his favorite show.
Jake nods in agreement. "Totally. Okay, switching gears to Pougelandia. Tell me everything."
You giggle and lean back in your chair. "Oh my goodness, that was incredible! The Outer Banks cast is as cool as they appear on television,” You gush, your excitement is evident.
Jake’s face lights up hearing you talk about the cast, “stop it that sounds so sweet, tell me more!”
You quickly point at him, “They’re so down to earth and so sweet. I got to meet practically everyone except for one person,” pouting then covering your hands with your hands.
Jake shrieks in surprise, "bitch who? "You must tell me!" He exclaims excitedly, settling into his seat.
“Drew Starkey. I was very disappointed since I'd heard he was the sweetest person, but our schedules didn't work out." you confess with a hint of disappointment. You were excited to meet him and start a conversation like you did with the rest of the cast.
Jake, of course, teased you about it, saying, “I feel like we’re setting up a rom-com here. Drew, if you’re listening, the universe is waiting.”
The remainder of the podcast you two continue to talk about various topics and even did the infamous NAME—someone will send in a question or mention something for Jake and the guest to answer the question on the podcast. There were lots of interesting questions.
A few days later, the episode is up—fans are talking about you talking about Drew and you wanting to meet him. TikTok is overloaded with clips of you talking about Drew, and your comments are full of hopeful hints about a possible meet-up.
You'd just completed editing your most recent YouTube video for your next vlog, and you were drained enough to fall asleep at your desk. The buzz of your phone buzzing from your bed, frowning but curious in who it could be.
You scream. Literally scream.
Drew Starkey followed you.
Drew Starkey sent you a message.
"Am I being punked?" Am I dreaming? "What the fuck is happening?" You ramble while holding your phone in your shaky hands and looking at the two notifications on your lock screen.
Allowing yourself to relax and compose yourself. You unlock your phone, tap on instagram, go to the messaging tab, you’re sure your jaw dropped to the floor.
Drew Starkey: Hey, I recently watched your podcast with Jake. We should get together sometime—finally make up for not meeting in Pougelandia!
What do you say?
How do you come off calmly?
Yourusername: Hi! Yes, it sounds perfect. Let me know when you’re free.
Tumblr media
Fast forward two months later, you feel you’re still in a dream. Drew and you hung out together at a local coffee shop then went back to your place to talk more. Once you started talking you two couldn’t stop.
After hanging out the first time came more meeting ups. Drew asked you to be his girlfriend three weeks ago—you were shocked and excited all at once.
One day, while scrolling through TikTok in your kitchen, leaning on the counter, you came across the trend—wait they don't love you like I love you. You thought the trend was silly, so you decided to participate. 
You did a couple tries and posted your favorite one out of the four—not realizing Drew was in the background on his phone, unfazed about what you were doing. Your comments started blowing up.
Bestie you got some explaining to do đŸ€š
Causally dancing in your kitchen while Drew Starkey is walking around at the same time? Interesting
When worlds collide fr 😏
Alright where the cameras at...
I fucking knew it!!!!
Tumblr media
⎯⎯ my taglist!
✰ if you would like to be added to my taglist and be notified whenever i post please let me know in the comments or in my ask box. if there's a line across your name that means i couldn't find your account
@runningfrom2am @chenslucy @whorelaud @drewsephrry @diqldrunks @rosezza @rafeyslamb @mymultiveres @starkeyvhs @percysley @francislovergirl @kiiyomei @sukuna-wafiu @skyslowalking @kneelarmhstrung @inthelibrarybtw @liliumz @lovingsturniolo @xoxosblogsblog @yanna2coolz @stevesxwhore @minyoon23 @skywalker0809 @bxmaaa @anamiad00msday @ifwfratboychris @darkacademictrash @pwertiies @claudiamoscatoo @stir-knee-o-low @ratgirlcunt @drewstxrky
717 notes · View notes
miange1 · 2 days ago
Note
I NEED MORE BRIAN MOSER AHHHH
Brian Moser, with a lover that's "too sweet"
male leaning reader, brian is a freak, being nervous more than shy, arguments, accidental guilt tripping, manipulation(at first), reader gives off innocence but they're not they're just a virgin, fake names, being overly touchy, blow jobs
note: had an idea so i just used this ask as an excuse to finally post it. also if you notice typos no you don't im not fixing them
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
— You were his first actual relationship in which didn't involve murder or trying to get closer to Dexter. Or so he remembers, he probably had that intention at first yet completely forgot about it due to his own feelings.
— Meeting you felt like a bunch of perfumes and flowers were thrown at his face— you were smiling and speaking with him like he was your long lost friend or your boyfriend, like you knew him since forever.
"Oh! Rudy!" He instantly felt his heart speed up, feeling more nervous than he's ever been in his entire life and you weren't even calling out his real name. He needs to calm down, seriously he's sweating way too much.
"I missed you so much, how have you been?" He felt your arms wrap around him tightly, yet ater the hug your hands took his and held them as if they were the most delicate things in the world, besides you.
The man could barely get his words out, stuttering every now and then and looking away from you often. Your thumb was swiping softly over the top of his knuckles, why were you looking at him like that.
— Getting with you was the most romantic thing he has ever thought of. Taking you out to a place where it was peaceful yet beautiful, and he could confess to you and actually mean it.
— It was the best place he could find, it was hot but lovely. When he confessed, you stayed quiet for far too long and he thought you didn't want him. You were just in so much shock, it's been a bit since someone was this genuine to you.
— Floating on air is what he felt like each time he was with you. When you were able to visit his work, you showed him with kisses each and every single time even after arguments which was something he would have a heavy weight on his shoulders about.
"Debra doesn't at all have a thing for me, what the hell are you talking about!" You were blinking back heavy tears trying to see his side as best as you could, yet everything just went a bit too far. From understanding to a plain bicker.
"It's obvious she does, and she's in your office more than I am!" He rolled his eyes, his fingers on his nose and pinching the bridge. He knew Debra had a thing for him, but what he didn't know was why he lied seeing you fight for him like this. He liked seeing you get jealous.
"Because it's her job." Yet you protested, "I understand that but.." you couldn't get the rest out, starting to cry and you instantly felt embarrassed. "Sorry— shit, I'm sorry.." His upset look rested, sighing as he went closer to you for an embrace.
"No, it's my fault." He admitted, his arms squeezing your frame in a comforting manner as you cried into his chest.
He was so turned on right now.
— Brian had a bunch in which you were a virgin, he just would have never guess he was actually right about it.
— All he wanted was a small make out for a bit, yet it had escalated and you were on your knees. God, you looked so pretty.
"Ah, ah, your teeth.. Good..that's it." He leaned his head back, the warmth of your mouth and tongue working at his girth. For your first time even giving head you were real good at following his directions. You did it just how he liked it. Tongue swirling, spit mixing with what leaked from him, it was heaven.
He jutted his hips forward a bit, catching you by surprise and giving you the urge to wanna pull back, which didn't happen due to Brian's fingers tangling in your hair— and pushing your head back forward. "Doing so well, fuck.." you practically weren't evenoving anymore, and if you were you had just been going ragdoll and moving along with Brian's pulls.
His dick twitched in your mouth as he heard a gargled moan, fuck he was gonna cum just from hearing that alone. Then he'd hear you whine, almost impatiently. "Hush you're fine, just keep on— God, yes.." eyes rolling back, feeling your nose poke at his pelvis the deeper he pushed you down when he came. Letting go of your hair, he let your head fall back a bit before he forced your mouth closed.
"Swallow."
— Sooner or later he would then wonder why you were a virgin in the first place, yet you did date people for long periods of time.
"I don't know, when I asked after break up they said they just couldn't."
— He got the hint for himself.
84 notes · View notes
amyispxnk · 3 days ago
Text
AUGHHH MY GOD THIS SERIES MAKES ME SCREAM AND SOB SM ISTG. I LOVE IT.
Notes from reading as always 🙏..
   He’s always so supportive, so gentle, so easy with you. It makes your heart clench, makes it beat a little more just for him. 
   “Yeah, guess I am.” He turns his head toward you and gives you a heart-stopping smile. “I guess I see all the potential in those pretty eyes of yours.”
   Turning back toward the fogged-up passenger window, you lean against the door and smile. A smile that’s bigger than you’ve ever smiled before. You’re completely smitten by the handsome Texas man with big brown eyes. And he’s just continuing to show you how much life is worth living. Telling you how far he thinks you’ll go. But you don’t want to go far in distance. No. You just want to stay right here beside him. You think you’d follow him anywhere.
these two are SO FUCKING CUTE UGHHHH THE YEARNING. THE YEARNING, PEOPLE. ITS KILLING ME
   ...smile like your whole heart is right there in his eyes. “Thanks for seeing the potential in me.”
THAT WAS SO SWEET UGH
   He slows to a halt at a stop sign and turns to face you, eyes sparkling with promises. “Then I’ll be there every single time you need me.”
Literally screaming, crying, throwing up.
Also when he says he has to go - I love how respectful and mindful he is of her, not touching her despite wanting to, when wanting to comfort her. Your writing and the way you show so much character and depth through even the subtlest of actions like that is honestly incredible. I literally adore your writing so much
Ok I know I keep going on about it but genuinely Joel's characterisation is so well done. I love him so much in this fic, istg, like the way he picks up on things like when her hand gets shaky? So sweet
   You’re about to get up, run out the door, but Joel senses your worry. He slides the back of his hand against yours, brushing your skin gently, a way to say ‘Hey, I’m right here.’ And when you look up and see those big brown eyes gazing softly down at you, you instantly quiet down inside. Your knee stops bouncing, and you’re left with this overwhelming peace that seems to radiate through every part of your body. Like a quiet forest that soothes your soul, that’s what Joel does to you. He makes everything else around you so still, so quiet. 
IM CRYINGGGGGG.
   Ellie
 That little girl tonight looked just like his lost daughter—the one he saved all those years ago. But he never fully saved her. Not after
 not when he let her go

Oh my god??? It's the way I'm about to start sobbing again if I was right(?)
   Don’t let go. Never let go. 
IM. SCREAMING. AND CRYING. SO MUCH.
And the ending was so beautiful as always.
Wow.
✹Saving What Was Lost Part 7: Your Hand In Mine✹
Pre-Outbreak! Joel Miller x fem! reader
Tumblr media
Series Masterlist
A/N: Get ready to meet soft, angsty Joel in this chapter. I would like to give him a big hug đŸ„ș
Chapter Summary: Your first day of therapy is a little scary, but Joel helps you through it.
Rating: 18+ only MDNI
Word Count: 4.7k
Chapter Tags: Soft! Joel, so much angst, yearning, reader goes to therapy, dual POV, age gap (reader late 20’s, Joel late 40’s), mentions of violence and kidnapping, grief
Dividers by @saradika-graphics
Tumblr media
“You nervous?” Joel asks from the driver’s seat, hands locked around the leather steering wheel.
   You nod while your hands fidget with your leggings. “Mmm, a little.” But a little’s a lie. You’re downright terrified. You’ve never been to therapy, never talked about yourself before like that. Well, Joel was the closest. You’ve talked to him, and you’re oddly comfortable with that now. But other than that? You haven’t done this.
   He must see the lie on your worried face and the terror ringing through your wide eyes. Giving you a gentle smile, he turns his focus back to the road ahead that’s shrouded in mist from the December rain. “Don’t be. Tess is great. You’re going to be great, sweetheart. I know it’s scary, but just know you’re taking that first step into the unknown. That first step of healing, and you’re going to do so well. I jus’ know it.”
   He’s always so supportive, so gentle, so easy with you. It makes your heart clench, makes it beat a little more just for him. 
   You take a good look at him. Watch as he cards a hand back through his tousled curls, watch as his green flannel clings to his flexed biceps, watch as that easy smile melts across his plush mouth. He’s just so nice to watch, so easy to keep your eyes trained on. 
   Darting your tongue across your bottom lip, you tilt your head toward him and give him an easy smile. “You’re always so sure about me.”
   “Yeah, guess I am.” He turns his head toward you and gives you a heart-stopping smile. “I guess I see all the potential in those pretty eyes of yours.”
   Your mouth parts, cheeks redden as you repeat that sentence over in your mind. He thinks you have pretty eyes. He’s always so sure of you. 
   Turning back toward the fogged-up passenger window, you lean against the door and smile. A smile that’s bigger than you’ve ever smiled before. You’re completely smitten by the handsome Texas man with big brown eyes. And he’s just continuing to show you how much life is worth living. Telling you how far he thinks you’ll go. But you don’t want to go far in distance. No. You just want to stay right here beside him. You think you’d follow him anywhere.
   When he stops at a red light, you brave another stare at him and smile like your whole heart is right there in his eyes. “Thanks for seeing the potential in me.”
   One side of his mouth curls up into a crooked smile, and his cinnamon-brown eyes sparkle against the windshield. “You’re so welcome, sweetheart.”
   When you catch your breath from melting, you ask, “Sarah said you see Tess, too?”
   He nods as the truck’s engine revs to life again. “She’s right. See her every couple of weeks or so. She’s patient and understanding and she really helps, I think. Helps when the nights get a little too dark for me.”
   The way he says the last sentence, his low voice sounds a little weary like maybe he fights the nights as much as you do. And you don’t miss the flinch in his right eye or the way his hand tightens on the steering wheel. He must get them too. The nightmares that haunt your dreams every few nights. You wish you could just scoop them up, replace them with dreams of ocean tides or snowy mountains filled with deep green trees. You wish you could take away his pain, whatever’s hurting him so deeply. He hides it well—the pain. But sometimes it creeps up on him, and it spills in different shades across his shadows that slip in his brown eyes. That’s something you don’t miss.
   Steady rain pelts against the windows, making the few trees in the distance look like monsters with tangled vines draping low to the ground. You flick your gaze back to Joel in the driver’s seat and another slow smile brushes against your lips. “Thanks again for driving me.”
   “It ain’t no trouble, sweetheart. I’ll drive you till you don’t need me to.”
   Another skipped heartbeat, another butterfly flitting through your stomach. The man is so sweet. 
   Biting your lower lip, you brave a question, mildly testing the waters. “What if I always need you to?” It comes out quiet, but not so quiet that he doesn’t hear you.
   He slows to a halt at a stop sign and turns to face you, eyes sparkling with promises. “Then I’ll be there every single time you need me.”
   “Promise?” 
   Another smile. “Cross my heart.” He folds a hand over his chest, promising once again. 
   You giggle under your breath, your eyes never leaving his. “Well, looks like I can trust you then.”
   “You can always trust me, sweetheart.” And he means it. You can always trust him, and you know that. God, you know that. 
   When the tires start spinning again on the damp pavement and the low sounds of an old Western song plays through the speakers, he clears his throat and speaks. “It’s gonna be a late night for me.”
   You flip your eyes back to him and give him a worried stare. “Do you have to go somewhere?” You already know what that means. He’s got an important job to do. One where he might be gone all night, maybe till morning. 
   He nods subtly. “Got an important run I gotta do with Tommy. So I might not be home till mornin’
” His voice cuts off. He knows you hate it when he’s away so long.
   “Gone the whole night?” Your voice is a meek whisper because you’re afraid what his answer will be. 
   He’s silent a beat. “Afraid so, but hopefully that ain’t the case. But still, even if I am back earlier, it’ll be well after two o’clock in the mornin’.”
   Your stomach churns just thinking about it. When he’s not across the hall when you’re sleeping, when he’s not just mere feet apart from you, it’s like something’s missing. There’s a void in the pit of your stomach, and you can’t seem to unravel that feeling till he’s in your space again. “I hate when you’re gone all night
” Your words falter, they break like your voice shakes.
   “I know, sweetheart. I know.” His right hand drops to the center console, just inches from yours. He seems conflicted, seems like he wants to reach out and graze his calloused skin against yours, but he doesn’t. But he’s trying. He’s still hesitant to touch you because you’re still so unsure of touch. He doesn’t want to scare you, and you know that. He’s just being careful. And maybe you’re still scared of physical touch, but his touch? That warm, gentle, soft graze he sometimes gives you. Well, it feels like sunlight skimming over you. 
   Carefully, you move your fingers in his direction. Just enough where you can feel the heat of his skin. You don’t touch him, not quite. But this is enough. This is your middle ground. “I umm
 I worry about you at night when you’re not home. I’m always scared that
 that...” You can’t even speak it out loud. You’re scared he won’t come back one night. And you can’t bear the thought of that. 
   His brown eyes soften. “I’ll be alright, sweetheart. I’ll come back. I can promise you that.” You give him a small smile and nod, keeping your fingers right by his just so you can feel the heat cover your own skin. 
   Physical contact is still something you’re struggling with, but you think Joel understands that. And he does. Always so careful around you. Never one to put you in an uncomfortable situation because he does understand your situation. He knows exactly what you’ve been through, and he wouldn’t dare make the wrong move because he doesn’t want to scare you. And you appreciate that. You appreciate him. So this is enough. Right now in this truck—hands centimeters apart, heat gliding over your fingers, a whispered promise that he’s going to take care of you. 
   Yes. This is enough.
   After a few more minutes, Joel’s pulling into a little parking lot, right in front of a tiny building with a lit-up white sign that says "Essence of Healing.” Your heart starts beating faster, your breath tightening in your chest as your eyes scan the brightly-lit sign. “Well, here we are. You ready?” He turns off the ignition and pulls the key out, his brown eyes flitting over to you. 
   You swallow once and nod, an array of emotions spinning in your head. “Yeah, I think so,” you breathe out as calmly as you can.
   He gives you an encouraging smile and pushes the door open. “C’mon, then.” You open the passenger door slowly and close it with a bang, your knees shaky, legs wobbly with every step you take toward the door. 
   This is it. You’re actually going to talk to a therapist for the first time in your life. What if you’re not ready, what if you choke, what if you burst out into tears and can’t sputter words from your choked-up throat? These are all valid questions, ones you never really considered, but you’re here. You have to do this. You have to do it for yourself. You owe that much to yourself. You are worth it.
   When Joel goes up to the front desk with you, the one covered in green succulents and a calming, trickling desk fountain running the corner, you collect all the paperwork you need to fill out and in exchange give her your photo ID. Joel was kind enough to go with you to get a new one since your old one was lost somewhere in Washington. As for health insurance, Joel was paying out of pocket for you to be seen. But he promised he was working to get you on your own health insurance plan. You still don’t know why he’s being so nice to you, but without him, you’d probably be dead by now

   After a few minutes of fighting with the paperwork and scribbling out wrong information, you’re about to break out in tears. They’re swelling in the backs of your eyes, making your lips quiver and the words blur on the page.
   “Hey. You’re alright,” Joel coos, taking the pen from your shaky hand. “Let me help.” And you do let him. He fills out the questions you couldn’t answer yourself—his home address, your phone number you still haven’t memorized, emergency contact information, insurance details, even going as far as helping you fill out medical questions you’re having trouble with. 
   As you look up at him all focused and intent on getting your paperwork done, a little spark sizzles in your chest. You study him—eyes glued to the page, jaw flexed as his rapt attention is on each question, tousled curls a little disheveled as he cards his fingers attentively while he thumbs through the pages. You’re a little mesmerized, a little surprised he didn’t just leave you to shovel through the numerous papers. Instead, he chose to stay right by your side, saving you from breaking down from the weight of so many unknowns. 
   You’re scared, a little overwhelmed, a little more nervous than you’d like to be. But with Joel, it seems like you can get through anything. 
   When the paperwork is all completed and he’s back at your side, waiting patiently for them to call you back, you feel a little better—like you can do anything if he’s there next to you. Call him your knight in shining armor, but he truly is. He keeps saving you, and you hope he’ll never stop. 
   The nervous jitters start up again when you glance up at the clock. Five till noon, right when your appointment is supposed to be. Your knee is bouncing up and down in tandem with your flexed fingers against your leggings. Fear trickles down your spine, slides into the deepest parts of your veins. And suddenly, you’re downright terrified. 
   You’re about to get up, run out the door, but Joel senses your worry. He slides the back of his hand against yours, brushing your skin gently, a way to say ‘Hey, I’m right here.’ And when you look up and see those big brown eyes gazing softly down at you, you instantly quiet down inside. Your knee stops bouncing, and you’re left with this overwhelming peace that seems to radiate through every part of your body. Like a quiet forest that soothes your soul, that’s what Joel does to you. He makes everything else around you so still, so quiet. 
   When you’re about to say something to break the trance you’re in, you faintly hear your name being called from the open office door.
   You sit up straight and look toward the door, up at the woman that just called your name. “That’s me,” you call out with a shaky voice. 
   “Ahh. There you are.” She strides up to you and holds her hand out. You slowly take it. She has long light brown hair, strong cheekbones, welcoming hazel eyes, and a smile that instantly soothes you. “I’m Tess, by the way. It’s so good to meet you. This one’s told me a lot about you.” She flicks her eyes to Joel.
   When you take her hand, it’s warm. “It’s nice to meet you, Tess. And of course he has.”
   Joel shakes his head and lets a low chuckle leave his lips. “Guilty as charged.”
   “You got lucky with this one. He’s one of the good ones,” Tess nods as your hands disconnect.
   “He is
” you repeat back, getting lost just for a second in his syrupy brown eyes. He seems to get lost in yours too.
   “You ready?” Tess asks.
   “Oh, uhh. Yeah.” You take a second to push yourself up off the cushioned leather chair, let your legs stop wobbling beneath you. 
   When you’re just about to follow her back, Joel’s low voice serenades your ears. “I’ll be right here waitin’. You’re gonna do great, sweetheart.”
   “Thanks, Joel.” You give him a lasting smile, until Tess beckons you back to her office. 
   “Come on. This way.”
   With one last glance his way, you watch the front office door shut and what awaits you is a long hallway with mint-green wallpaper. Pictures of oceans, fields of wildflowers, and open spaces fill the painted walls. A small white table sits in the middle of the hall with multi-colored flowers hanging over the table that are tucked inside a cream-colored pot. 
   When you make it to the fourth door on the left, Tess nods inside and lets you go first. “Welcome to my office. Hope it’s cozy enough for you.”
   Gasping, you take in her array of rocks and seashells on her back wall. Dozens of colorful shapes and sizes fill the expanse of it. But what really catches your attention is all the little sand dollars spread out by her computer monitor. Her walls are almost the color of sunlight, and she’s got a massive portrait of a west coast beach framed with love behind her desk chair. A white leather couch sits right across from her mahogany desk, and the scent of soothing lavender fills the air. 
   “It’s perfect,” you whisper, amazed by all the decorative details of her office. It’s so inviting and welcoming. It instantly calms you down. 
   “Glad you like it,” she smiles. “Well, have a seat. Get comfortable.” You comply as she gets situated in her chair and pulls up your paperwork. Sifting through it for a minute, she looks up at you with a bright smile lit across her face. “So. This is your first session, is that correct?”
   “Yeah. I
 I’ve never done this before,” you answer honestly, a little scared of what she might say, but she only gives you another encouraging smile.
   “Well, you came to the right place then. We’re just going to take this slow, take it one session at a time. Healing is a journey. There’s no one single path to it. We’ll do what works for you, what you’re comfortable with. That sound okay to you?”
   “Mhm,” you nod with your hands clasped tightly in your lap. You’re so fucking nervous, but this is normal, right? Everyone is scared of something they’ve never done before. But this? It seems like all your secrets will surely be unmasked, and that terrifies you. Sharing your past—what happened to you—isn’t going to be easy. Not one bit. 
   “I can see you’re scared, but you don’t have to be. This is a safe space. You can talk to me about anything. It’s all confidential. Nothing you say goes out that door.” 
   Your eyes flit to the closed oak door, and you nod in acknowledgment. “Right
 Okay.”
   She scoots back and crosses one leg over her knee, leaving the open papers splayed on her desk. All attention is on you now. “How about we start from the beginning. Before
 before you were taken. Maybe start with your childhood?”
   “Oh
 I
 Well, that’s a lot to tell,” you gulp out nervously. Your childhood trauma is a whole other monster you still haven’t tackled. 
   She smiles. “We’ve got an entire hour today. And if you come back, we’ll have many more sessions to unravel your past.”
   You bite your bottom lip and nod, your nerves getting the best of you, but you push through. “Okay
” You take a deep breath and dive in head first. “Here goes nothing.”
Tumblr media
   Four o’clock flashes like an alarm on the oven clock, telling him he’s been gone for hours, but really, it feels like it’s been days. He reaches for the open whiskey bottle and pours the amber liquid over the square ice cubes in the glass. Every drop looks like the trickles of fresh blood that’s stained his flannel permanently. He should’ve fucking known tonight was not the night to wear nice flannels. 
   He scuffs his leather boots against the hardwood floor, dragging his tired legs from the kitchen to the living room, till he’s collapsed in a heap on the leather couch—one hand curled around the cold glass, the other raking down his face excruciatingly slow. 
   He failed. He was too late. Just minutes from being on time. Maybe he could’ve saved her. Saved that innocent little girl from her executioners. But he couldn’t

   As he closes his eyes, he sees the flash of red covering the dark walls, serenading the lace of her pink dress. Eleven-years-old, just shy of turning twelve, a daughter that’ll never be able to return home to a worried mother and father. 
   He curses under his breath, feels the tears pour like droplets of water down his cheek. She didn’t deserve to die, didn’t deserve to be scared and all alone. He was supposed to save her, was supposed to get her out. That was his mission, and he fucking failed. 
   Three minutes. He was just three fucking minutes shy of saving her life, but he was too late. He misjudged the distance, didn’t realize the captors were early to their destination. He got there right after they smothered her—silencing her terrified screams forever. He can still hear them like shrill sirens blasting through the base of that rundown building. This isn’t the first time he’s been too late, but God. This one hurts like hell because it reminds him of someone he lost along the way. Someone he loved just as much as Sarah.
   And so, he did what he did best. He took them out—all the men that had hurt her. Thankfully, he took backup, including Tommy. He smothered their screams, pushed daggers into their throats, shot them dead in a frenzy of rage while his teeth were clenched and eyes were fogged with held-in tears. When he looked at that poor, lost girl—it nearly took him to his knees. Those eyes. Those same lifeless hazel eyes that still haunt his dreams to this day. They were the same shade as hers
 The little girl that forever changed his life. The one that he wishes was still here

   Ellie
 That little girl tonight looked just like his lost daughter—the one he saved all those years ago. But he never fully saved her. Not after
 not when he let her go

   A wave of emotions floods through his chest as he takes another stiff drink of alcohol, letting the whiskey burn through him while visions of hazel eyes and crimson fill his foggy mind. 
   He was too late. He fucked up. He misjudged the minute hand from the second hand. Time slipped away from him. And before he knew it, everything he planned for was lost to the eerie night. Instead, it ended in bloodshed and turmoil. He hates it. Hates when things have to get extremely violet, but what choice did he have? He had to take them out because they stole an innocent life—a life he was supposed to keep safe. 
   He’s so lost in the crimson-stained memories in his mind that he almost misses that small, meek voice of yours. “Joel?” 
   When he opens his eyes, a part of his soul shatters. There you are, a plush blanket wrapped around your shoulders, heartbreaking eyes shining over to him from the staircase. You take in his half-drank glass of whiskey and the dried tears that stain his cheeks. But also, you see the faint crimson that tarnishes his flannel shirt. 
   Blood. There was so much blood
 like a liquid pool of death.
   He adjusts his back against the leather cushion and sits up a little straighter, just so he looks less worn down and broken than he already is. You see right through him though. You always do. “Sweetheart, it’s late. Why don’t you
” 
   “Are you
 okay?” Your voice whispers across the room, silences the crackling embers in the fireplace. Your voice
 it sounds broken too.
   “I, uhh. Jus’ please, go back to sleep.” He tries to push you away, tries to get you to return to your room so he can sulk in peace. He doesn’t want you to see him like this. Doesn’t want you to see just how physically and mentally defeated he actually is. He’s not as strong as you think he is. He’s fragile, grainy sand that gets blown away by the wind. He’s not rock-solid; he’s quicksand.
   You slide into the seat next to him, close enough where your knee could brush against his. “I’m not leaving you.” There’s finality in your tone, still soft but firm on your decision. And there’s those eyes. Those fucking beautiful eyes that could silence all the built-up pain he has piled on his heart.
   You’re so fucking beautiful.
   “Are you hurt?” You ghost your hand across the leather, reaching out just enough where he feels the heat of your skin. It soothes him over just a tad, but nothing can quite wipe away the excruciating weight of agony he’s carrying now.
   “No. I’m jus’
 I’m so tired.” He pinches his eyes closed and takes a deep breath, his hand clutching the cool glass of whiskey like it’s his lifeline. “This job weighs on me like solid concrete. Some nights are so fuckin’ hard. Some nights jus’
” He pauses, takes a deep breath in and blows another out. He can’t finish. He’s too tired, too strained from the past few hours, months, years.
   He’s so fucking tired; he just needs some rest, some peace, some symbolism that he knows he’ll get to the finish line. But he’s been so struck down ever since he met that certain hazel-eyed little girl. Ellie. His little girl

   “What happened tonight?” Your voice comes off as a whisper. Maybe you’re just as scared to hear what he has to say. 
   He taps the edge of his thumb against the solid glass and takes a deep breath. “We uhh
 I lost her. Her name
 her name was Abigail. Just a little eleven-year-old, and I was supposed to save her, to get her back to her parents. But I
 I was too late. I was too fuckin’ late.” There it is. The pen drops, another tear splashes down his stained flannel, and he’s lost to grief again. 
   You pause a beat, but you gasp loud enough for him to hear the horror in your voice. He’s a failure. You must think he’s such a failure. “Joel
 I’m so
 God. I’m so sorry.” There’s only sorrow in your lilty voice, no anger or resentment that he failed yet another soul. You’re just as sad as him, he thinks.
   “I failed her
 I failed everyone
” He shakes his head, sets his mind a little straighter just so he can grit the words out. “Sometimes I feel like none of this is worth it, like I don’t make a difference. Because when this happens, it makes me feel like I’m already six feet underground.”
   “Oh, Joel. No.” He feels it—the couch creak beneath him, the weight of your body sliding over, your hand inching closer to his. “You save so many lives. You make every bit of difference. You change lives.” There’s so much assurance in your voice; you’re trying to soothe him over.
   He snaps his eyes shut and shakes his head, anything to stop the burning sensation in his watery eyes. Maybe if he doesn’t blink then he won’t feel the pain of this gut-wrenching moment. “But I
 I couldn’t save her
 I couldn’t save
” 
   Ellie

   With his eyes still shut tight, he feels warmth wrap around his hand, feels the soft caress of your skin. And when he opens his eyes wide, he sees the most beautiful shades of softness gleaming from your pretty eyes. 
   “You saved me. And that
 that means everything to me. You saved me. You saved your daughter. You saved so many lives. You are a hero, and don’t you dare think otherwise. Not for one second.” There’s tears licking your lash line, the most sincere look over your pretty face. A desperate plea to get through to him. And in that moment, he believes you for a second. Believes that he is a hero, even when he doesn’t believe it himself.
   His bottom lip trembles as tears gather in his watery eyes. Something hits him deep in the gut. Longing, the fear of losing you, and an all-consuming wave of tender emotions. He sees you. He really sees you. Such a beautiful soul. Such a lovely, amazing woman. To think he almost didn’t go to that auction, almost wasn’t able to save you. What would he do if he never found you? It stings to even think about. Because you
 Well, you’re everything all at once. And he’s so fucking soft for you.
   Carefully, softly, he laces his fingers through yours, holds on for dear life, praying you never let go.  
   Don’t let go. Never let go. 
   Your hand is a perfect fit for his. Every line, edge, dip carved specially for his hand to fit in. The weave of your fingers against his, the light brush of your skin, the heat that spirals into complete warmness when your skin slips against his—you were fucking made for him, just as he was for you, he thinks. Because when your bright eyes and soft smile are in his presence, he sees pure sunlight, sees the pure angelic essence you’re bathed in. 
   He was made to find you. This much he knows. And whether you choose to stay or go—he’ll have this moment to hold on to. Because he got you once. Your hand in his. This right here is everything he’s ever needed. It may just be your hand brushing against his, your fingers intertwined together, but it feels like home. You feel like home. 
   So, he lets the soft rain pelt outside against the living room windows, lets the dying fire crackle and pop in the fireplace, and savors the feel of your honey-like soft skin sliding against his. And he stays there for several minutes, maybe an hour, and there’s only silence shrouding the room. But your touch? It screams volumes, makes him feel human again. 
   For a breath of a moment, you’re his. 
   Texas rain was a rare phenomenon. Misty showers only a once in a while type thing. But you? You made it pour, made the flood waters wash clear through Austin. He didn’t see it coming, didn’t expect anything like you. But it sure as hell knocked him clear off his feet when you bathed him in your electric thunderstorms. 
Tag List: @clawdee @jellybeanxc @lotusbxtch @thebeldroramscal @laurrrra
@whxtedreams @sawymredfox @sanarsi @mountainsandmayhem @bitchytimetravelqueen
@southernbe @katinasweeney @pixelspunk @amyispxnk @mysterious-moonstruck-musings
@christinamadsen @aurorawritestoescape @evolnoomym @littlevenicebitch69 @alltheirdamn
@inept-the-magnificent @maried01 @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 @fandomdaydreamer @elliaze
@callmecath1 @kulekehe @yorkshirewench @untamedheart81
@tateypots @stylesispunk @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @mellymbee @pascalsbae
@locaparapedrito @ladyofmidlo72 @readingiskeepingmegoing @copperhalfcent @axshadows
@here-briefly @cozylittlepigeon @pastawench @keylimebeag @joelsoftie
@romanarose @captainredspade @megangovier @bishtrouille @almodovarispunk
@papipascaaaal @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler @bambisweethearts @puddles221b
@valkyreally @northennlights
221 notes · View notes
kurishiri · 2 days ago
Text
Tumblr media
Prologue ┊ The great detective Harrison’s book of incidents
꒰ ÖŽ Öș âŠč @ notice âŠč Öș ÖŽ ꒱ this translation may not be 100% accurate or contain creative liberties due to narrative flow and characterization purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but please don’t repost these or claim these as your own!
— harrison’s promised event, featuring william, ellis, victor, darius, and ring. congrats to our resident peppermint boy for making it to top 5 in the elections!
[CITY - NIGHT]
With clouds the color of lead thickly blanketing the winter sky, a man was running with bated breath.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
???: hah... hah...!
Even with little control over his legs and on the verge of tripping, he couldn’t afford to stop.
——He had to run.
If he didn’t avert his eyes from reality, narrowing in on him, he couldn’t live on.
But...here to put an end to the chase was another individual.
Harrison: ——Stop right there.
The voice of the man with peppermint-colored eyes broke through the silence of the night.
And the running man’s shoulders jumped before he came to a stop.
The two men’s white breaths silently melted amid the cold air.
???: ...How did you know where I was?
Harrison: Easy. You left a great many clues in your room.
H: ...I think it’s about time you faced reality, isn’t it.
H: Running away won’t solve anything. Yeah?
???: But... I...! I left everything behind and ran this far now! How could someone like myself ever have a place to return to...
Harrison: Oh, there is a place to return to.
???: ...
Harrison: I’ll tag along in apologizing for neglecting your deadlines.
H: So, that’s why... let’s head back, mister author.
Author with a bed head: ...uuu— Harrisooon~!
(ïœăƒ»_・)ノ”(ノ_<、)
[NIGHT SKY]
Indeed, the man running away was a mystery writer, a deadline hot on his heels.
Meanwhile, the one chasing after him was a man who — under normal circumstances — was responsible for editing in a publishing company...
...and was asked to find the runaway author: a man named Harrison Gray.
[CARRIAGE]
Harrison: I’ve got a message from the company. ‘We will extend the deadline, so don’t stress about it and come back.’
Author with a bed head: Well I sure am grateful for that! ...That said, I’ve reached a bit of a dead end.
Author with a bed head: I want to play around some more with the trick that shows up in the story’s endgame...
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Harrison: If you end it as is, the readers will think it’s a great success, if you ask me.
Author with a bed head: The compromise of a writer will be conveyed to the reader as well. I can’t relax until the very end.
Author with a bed head: ...Oh, I know! Harrison, could you come up with some idea?
Author with a bed head: You sometimes share some mystery tricks with authors, don’t you?
Harrison: Unfortunately, I don’t have any such material on me right now.
Author with a bed head: I implore you...! Help me out here, please...!
Harrison: Hah... fine, okay. I figure if you run away again, I’ll have to find you yet again, anyhow.
[DINING ROOM]
Harrison: ——And so, with that, I’d like you guys to let me know if there’s any incident that happens around you, or any strange happenings about.
Liam: And then you’ll go and solve those incidents and come up with an idea for a trick through there!
Harrison: Exactly.
William: Alright then. If there’s anything, I will let the Great Detective Harrison know and have you get to the bottom of it.
Harrison: You seem like the last person who’d need a detective... but well, thanks.
Ellis: Me too, I’ll pay attention to anything that’s going on around me. If it will make you happy, that is.
Liam: Oh, with a detective comes an assistant! I’ll help out, Harry.
Victor: Well then, allow me to fulfill the role of the mysterious heroine who accompanies the detective——
Harrison: ——No need for a heroine. But I will take your assistance, Liam.
Liam: By all and every means!
[TYPEWRITER]
Tumblr media Tumblr media
That which is about to be written henceforth is not a record of sin, but the records of six of their encounters with little mysteries.
The truth shall become clear in his hands.
[BLACK]
Now come the tales of the great detective through which not a single lie may escape——Harrison’s book of incidents.
Tumblr media
masterlist 🔎 ┊ ko-fi ☕ ┊ comms đŸ€
88 notes · View notes
earlycuntsets · 15 hours ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
interview with frank, mikey and bob with mychemicalromanceforum.com 2006
"The big forum interview with My Chemical Romance!
Reporters: Imre (poison amy) and Lisette (Lica) Bandmembers: Frank, Bob and Mikey Place: The Melkweg (Milkyway), Amsterdam, the Netherlands Date: Wednesday August 31st, 2005, 3.30pm
After a lot of stress and the prospect that the interview might be cancelled, it was finally time to go upstairs and meet the band. Two hours later than scheduled, but hey, they were there so we’re not complaining! Our palms were sweaty and our hearts were racing, but we managed to remain calm and behave like proper journalists instead of squealing fangirls.
L: Let’s start with our list! We’re already talking about messageboards so lets continue on that. Some people sometimes claim to be one of you when they are on forums or other websites, what do you think of that? F: I don’t understand it really, to me it’s kind of like that game the Sims, they’re spending so much time leading this fake life while they could be doing their own thing, and if your dream is to be in a band you should go out and practise instead of playing a video game or pretend you’re somebody else. It gets really creepy when those people do that and put out pictures of you and say a loved one or your dog. When they do that and then talk to other people on your behalf, that really angers me because we don’t know what they’re saying to other people and they might give advise and others might believe it. Internet can be a great thing, but it can also be a really evil thing. I: We have a rule against talking about your private life. F: Thank you. I appreciate that. Mikey: That’s a big problem with MySpace, because some of my friends actually are on MySpace and they get messages, I don’t know how they knew that my friends are on there, but these are people that aren’t even in bands and they would get messages from ‘me’ on MySpace. It’s really weird. I: They know everything. Trust me. Bob: That’s ridiculous. F: I’m still a huge fan of music, but when I was a fan of a band I would never ever be that intrusive. You know what I mean, to go as far as walk on someone’s bus and sit down and go through someone’s things, or try to steal something
 I: There was one girl last week, she was at one of the shows in London and she was proud that she ripped something off your arm! F: [sad tone] Yeah, yeah
 I: She was bragging about it all over the internet. F: I know
 L: How do you feel about these things? F: You know, it’s weird. *thinks* I don’t know how I feel about that. I definitely know that when I was at shows I would bring a souvenir home, but it wasn’t someone’s personal property, it was a flyer or something like that. It’s weird if you wanna go into the crowd thinking ‘am I gonna come out with everything?’ L: Are you nervous when you see a large crowd? Are you worried then? F: No! Well, no, I mean, it depends. There’s a bunch of different type of fans. You know, there’s people who just wanna say I love you, love your show, and that’s awesome. They respect the music and the art form. And then there’s some people that need to have that souvenir, that need a signature or a picture and there’s some that just scream and try to pull your hair out and that’s ridiculous and then there’s the drunk fan that wants to be the one that punched you. Unfortunately for the people that just wanna say hi or the people that just want an autograph, sometimes they get flooded because the bad apples are so loud or with so many. It sucks to make people wait outside for hours before you leave because I don’t wanna weed out the bullshit, you know what I mean, the teenie ‘oh wow the new N’Sync is an actual band’ you know that’s a terrible thing, but you try to do more good than bad.
L: How was it for you Bob, when you joined the band they were already on their way to become very successful, how was it for you to step into a band that was already on their way? Bob: When I first started it wasn’t really sure that
 Well, I don’t think anybody thought that it was gonna be this successful. When I first started it was still in the van, playing shows for like a hundred people. It wasn’t like this when I first started. As far as the kids being crazy, obviously they *nods towards Frank and Mikey* get it a lot more, but it’s just strange for me. L: Well, you’re completely accepted on the forum, everybody loves Bob, they have it in their signatures. *grins* F: How could you not love Bob?!
I: When you started out, did you ever imagine being nominated for 4 VMA’s against Green Day? F: No, not at all! I: How crazy is that?! F: Pfff! It’s flattering. M: It was a great experience. The whole thing. F: I’m still reeling from it. I’m really glad it’s over. I: Were you nervous? F: Oh god, yeah. I definitely threw up before. M: You can see me biting my nails on camera. Every time they were showing Jamie Fox you can see me right behind him biting my nails a lot. I was really freaked out. F: It’s one of those things where.. Growing up I didn’t get to watch them all the time, but I saw bands like Nirvana play it and Guns’n’Roses. So just to be there and think of all the things that happened on that show and to actually play it, it was ridiculous. I: Because of the MTV awards you had to do the two festivals in England on the same day, how was that? Were you nervous doing those shows? B: It was tiring really. F: It was very tiring, yeah. And again, we kept like thinking of people that played it before. You know what I mean. I’m definitely keeping the two passes and I’m gonna frame them. It was rad. To do Reading and Leeds and especially on the same day, it was crazy! B: We were supposed to fly to Leeds and we couldn’t get on a bus and go to Reading, because we wouldn’t have enough time to set up, so we were supposed to take three helicopters and I was so psyched about that! I was so excited! It would have been so awesome to fly on a helicopter! But then something happened with the weather at Reading and they wouldn’t let the helicopters get that close to so many people, so we just took a plane. L: So the helicopter experience still has to take place. B: Yeah. We’re gonna do it one of these days. I don’t care, even if it’s on a day off, we’re taking a helicopter ride! L: Are you a thrill seeker? B: I 
 *thinks* Kind of. I guess so. F: As long as it’s got something to do with helicopters or motorcycles or black vans, that kind of stuff. I: You wouldn’t go horseriding on the beach. F: *laughs* I don’t think he’s that horseriding-on-the-beach type of guy. B: No. I wanna go skydiving one of these days. F: I’m not!!! I: Why not? F: If you’d asked me a couple of years ago to do it, I’d go ‘yeah, fuck it!’ but now I’m just too happy. You know what I mean? I: You don’t need that. F: Yeah! I don’t need to do that.
Then suddenly Bob exclaims: What is wrong with these people?! *reads from book* What would happen if you saw Mikey walk into the bathroom with another toaster? Signed: Bob Bryar’s official bitch. M: It wasn’t a toaster, it was a heater. I was putting a space heater in the bathroom when I was sick or something. I brought this heater into the shower so it was warm when I got out. It’s not the smartest thing in the world to do, but I was like ‘whatever, I’m fucking freezing’, but apparently they turned it into a toaster.. L: But you were fine. M: Yeah, I’m here right now. *all laugh*
L: For the video from The Ghost of You, you guys have your hair really smooth. We understand how you get your hair like that, but we were wondering how did they get Ray’s hair totally smooth? How much stuff did they put in there? F: You’ll see it on the making of the video, he has like these two little buns. B: Did they flat iron his hair too? F: They did something. It was all flattened out. It was all bundled together in this little fist of a bulb, so they could only shoot him from the front and part of the side. It was crazy. He was gonna cut his hair and we were all like ‘no don’t do that!!’. I: Did he ever tried to hide objects in his hair? To smuggle them inside? F: Hide objects in it? He might. B: *thinks* I don’t think so. *All giggle*
I: Another question they asked is: if your tourbus driver got ill, who would you trust to drive it? F: Bob. I: Yeah? Why? F: Cos he’s done it before. B: It happens a lot when you have to move a bus. When I used to tour with other bands, our drivers would just be like ‘hey, you wanna drive?’ and then I’d drive for like 1000 miles. L: It’s cool to drive something that big, isn’t it. B: Yeah, I like to drive and being on tour you never get to drive anywhere. If you’re not in a bus you’re in a cab or if you’re not in a cab you have somebody else driving you, so you know I take every opportunity I get to drive.
L: If you could describe your life so far in 5 words, what words would you choose? M: Tiring, wonderful
 F: Surprising, uhm, definitely tiring
 B: Red Bull. I: Hey, that’s two words! B: Oh sorry! *laughs* F: Coffee. B: There you go, coffee. Fun! (All at the same time) Proud. F: Prun! *grins* M: Yeah. B: How about proud-fun? I: We’ll make that a new forum-word! B: Prun.
I: Have you ever read any of the fanfictions people write about you? *guys laugh* M: My friends sent me one once. It was creepy! My friends are interested in all that stuff, so they all sit online and send it to each other and laugh. And then one of them emailed one to me and it was something really fucking out of hand. F: I heard Mikey’s hot for me. I: The hottest couple is you and Gerard actually. F: Oh really? We’re the hottest couple? B: That’s amazing. I: That’s actually one of the most active parts of the forum, the fanfiction section. F: Wow! That’s crazy. My god
 (kind of unsure) Well, if that’s what gets you hot, go for it.
L: Do you have something with you when you go out on stage, like a lucky thing? B: High fives. F: Yeah we do, like high fives before we go on stage. I don’t think there’s any charm I have.. I think it changes like I’ll have something for a time that I feel is lucky, but then it’ll probably break or something and you get something new
 Like these shoes *everyone looks at Frank’s feet* are lucky I think. None of it’s really lucky at all of course. *thinks* I have these dogtags that I wear a lot, but I can’t wear them on stage because it hurts my neck. I: Yeah and someone might steal them! F: Yeah that’s it, but I wear them all the time, except when I’m playing.
L: Yeah, you go crazy on stage and sometimes you’re lying on the floor, how are you able to play like that? F: You get used to it, like with anything. When we’re playing a new song, like right now we’re playing a new song. Well, not new new, but new for us because we haven’t played it in so long, so ah, we’ll play eh *looks at Bob* should we tell them? *Bob nods* Alright, we’re playing Jetset tonight and I’m not used to playing that song, so I’ll just stand there and make sure I hit every chord. L: So you’re not going crazy. F: *laughs* No, but you know what I mean like it’s hard because I get into it and I would do it, but at the same time if it’s so new I can’t. Once I’m comfortable with it I can do whatever I want. I: Is there a favourite song when you play? All: Prison! F: Yeah, Prison is like a band favourite. B: Yeah we like to play that. It’s become the song that when we need to play something for a soundcheck we pick that. I really like playing Jetset too though. I: Why didn’t you put it in the set before? F: We’ve never played certain songs, I mean like never ever played them. I think Jetset was one of those until we were like ‘yeah lets finally get this out’. We had about five songs to pick from for the headline tour, some older stuff that we haven’t played in a really long time and there’s this song called Cubicles that we’ve never played. I think you guys played it (to Mikey)
 M: Yeah we’ve played it on a couple of shows. F: But I’ve never actually played it. I: It must be nice to do a different set. F: Yeah! You know it’s fun to be doing something that you haven’t played in a really long time because it puts a spin on things and it kind of challenges you.
L: Most places have a very active local music scene, do you ever go to a band of the local music scene when you’re in a city? F: I would love to if we had a second off, but we never do. L: And back home in New Jersey, do you go there to local shows? F: Yeah, if we’re home for a while and there’s a show going on, I’ll go see it. But it’s hard because we do this for a living and I mean we love what we do and we love music, but sometimes the last thing we wanna do is go to a show. It has to be a really good show, you know what I mean. I: Yah, but it must also be part of your job to keep up to date about new bands. F: Yeah, well we tour so much and we hear so many things from different people, I mean I found out about a lot of different bands from just kids. It kind of keeps you in your favourite scene, you know. And we get demos all the time.
I: A few weeks ago I interviewed the singer from HIM, Ville, and he told me he had been talking to you guys about maybe touring together. F: That would be cool. Yeah. He’s a great guy. He’s really nice. I: I know! *grins* F: I think that would rule. To me, HIM are kind of like the European Bon Jovi. That’s what I get when I listen to them.
Sadly the girl from the record company interrupted us by saying it was nearly time and we could ask one last question. Lica asked it. L: About the second I’m Not Okay video; it starts off with Ray and Gerard sitting there and Gerard says: I don’t wanna make it, I just wanna
 What does he wanna do? F: Ok, the original line was: I don’t wanna make it, I just wanna rock! And we didn’t like it. If you keep an open end you can make it whatever you want it to be, you know. The rest of that, the whole opening scene, was written out. It was scripted and we were like ‘this isn’t really working’ so Ray actually re-wrote everything. Everything you hear in the video, other then ‘I just wanna’ is something that Ray wrote maybe ten minutes before we shot it!
Then the girl from the record company came back inside to tell us we really needed to wrap it up and Frank practically begged her to do two more from the book, like he suggested when we started out. Bob flips through the book. B: Bam! *points* All time favourite sad song? M: the Smiths – Asleep. That’s the fucking saddest song ever. B: That Jimmy Eat World song off of that show.. F: Angel song? B: Yeah. F: Oh yeah. Ah, geez, Angel Angel. Oh, right, ready? *flips through book again* F: When you guys stop and think about how you ended up where you are now, do you feel really lucky and jump for joy, or do you don’t give a damn at all? *laughs* I think we are the luckiest people in the whole fucking world. B: We’re very proud of ourselves! F: To be able to say that, you know, you’ve accomplished goals, that you set for yourself so long ago and this is awesome you know, like to be on tv or on the radio – fuck the radio and tv! To hear kids in different countries or different states sing along to songs that you wrote in your basement is the most surreal experience that you’ll ever have. And to have it mean something to people you never thought you would ever meet. That right there is the most amazing thing.
We had a minute to go on a picture with them and say goodbye. Frank told us that he really appreciated what we are doing for the band and thanked us for everything by giving us both a very tight hug. As you can probably imagine, we high on adrenaline for the rest of the day. The guys were lovely and very happy to see that all of you had posted so many questions for them. Thank you forum members, and thanks My Chemical Romance for making this all happen!
Second group picture Saying goodbye and packing our stuff Last minute chatting Frank telling us how much he appreciate the work we're doing on here"
interview with frank, mikey and bob with mychemicalromanceforum.com 2006
24 notes · View notes
crowcussion · 2 years ago
Text
doctors : you don’t have asthma we aren’t going to test you
me : *wheezes after walking slowly up stairs*
12 notes · View notes
hermitcraftx · 3 months ago
Text
just got a dm abt one of my posts and y'all please don't try and show the hermits (or any minecraft youtuber or content creator for that matter) my posts, i'm uncomfortable with it and don't want any of my posts shown to a cc. if they stumble upon it naturally that's unfortunate but i can live with it since i do maintag a lot (something i REALLY need to stop doing tbh i already know i need to make a tagging system just for my blog that wont clog results) but going out of ur way to show a cc is entirely different and something i am not comfortable with.
no hate to the person at all but even if i wasn't a little silly and weird with it sometimes i wouldn't be comfortable with it, i want my blog to be a purely fandom only space with none of the creators involved <3 please respect this
#which is imo how a fandom space should be#i'm old fashioned and it breaks the fandom etiquette rules i stand by#i ship and stuff and absolutely NO cc needs to be subjected to that please and thank you even if it's a non-ship post#not saying hermits and others cant hang out and interact if they wish hell no but like....#if you as any person with a following willingly go into a fandom space you have to expect to see some things you find weird#doesn't even necessarily mean ship just stuff the cc finds weird :v idk im not phrasing this right but like#the rule with shipping around any sort of media has been to keep it away and not show the creators anything !!! and thats fallen out#of practice the past few years with ppl getting more and more comfortable demanding boundaries and personal info from creators#which isn't right imo bc its like you're trying to see how much you can get away with. u want a guide on how to interact and social skills#which is... huh??? just be polite and keep anything weird away from them like what we were doing#some folks nowadays need “permission” to ship stuff even from SHOWS and shit with no real people and its like wow... huh....#u need it to be canon?? u need everything told to u by the show?? wheres the imagination. the spirit.#the making of everything so far removed from what it once was#like that guy that played nick from heartstopper that had to be outed to play a gay guy. like#idk im so sick of the boundary fandom ppl in mcyt 'what if they saw and made it uncomfortable!! im going to show them!!!!'#you are making them MUCH more uncomfortable than i am by GOING INTO THEIR FACE AND DEMANDING THEY LOOK AT IT!!#AND DEMANDING BOUNDARIES N SHIT... CRAZY.... idk the hermits especially its weird to me bc clearly they understand fandom etiquette#and the dynamic im talking about. most of them understand that by going into fandom spaces they will see things they dont like#which is why a lot of them only like fanart and answer questions asked by fans. even on tumblr !!! where the weird ppl are!!!#they also all seem to understand they are playing characters (citing joel cleo and grian as examples) for their audiences#which is. smth the audience itself doesnt understand most of the time anymore. oh my god they all died in real life in hermitcraft season 8#idk hermitblr used to be a lot more okay with hermitshipping n then a bunch of ppl from other fandoms moved in and its all more negative#and makes me sad. idk...#i never meant for this blog to gain almost 500 followers i just wanted to make silly little ship posts and now im scared to#bc ive gotten hate and its.... bwugh.... tempted to remake blogs and make one thats very clearly just for me and a few weirdos#whatever i went off on a tangent in the tags as usual just pls dont show creators my posts even non-ship ones for this reason#jamies bad posts#talking in tags#serious posts#<- ig??? idk
13 notes · View notes
maximusboltaqon · 2 months ago
Text
weird thing about the inhumans is that theyre obscure enough to not really have an audience and also havent really appeared *that* much throughout their entire 60 year existence. however they also well known enough that the mcu took a crack at it and permanently affected their comics and their old roles and sectors are gone to make room for the New MCU Versions. truly such a thing is practically unheard of.
6 notes · View notes
girlthingdecay · 1 year ago
Text
.
#i kind of want to kill myself. im so disconnected from anything. i have no original thought. everything is scripted#everything is just put together pieces from things ive heard elsewhere and i do not have a single original thought#everyone can see that im masks all the way down and everyone can see that i am nothing underneath and even that is a stolen way of saying it#i have no way of making nothing palatable but i am simply nothing. invite me over and ill try to adapt to you and write a new script based#off new media but if you make me truly comfortable and somehow manage to unplug my behavior then youll be rewarded with me just sitting#beside you on the floor and staring at whatever media you show me without speaking much and only occasionally seeking further warmth from#you#i vocalized it to someone close recently but im a nothing void and i wish people all acted in exactly the way i wanted regardless#i have selfish fantasies about people just doing everything to make everything easy for me and if i were a god i would be an entirely#selfish one#if the right people would go and stay as i please even though im a nothing void and dont deserve them around#if they would all do whatever i needed like gave me cuddles or sex or affirmation or money or treats#if life was one long cycle of being the most treated god by everyone then maybe i could be something i dont know#maybe something could be manifested into me#everyone already projects an idea onto me so maybe a collective idea held by all with a great deal of love would make whatever they say of#me true and maybe then id exist fully#until then oh well#though in reality im just sanitizing a bit. having others fully as puppets serving me isnt something that i want because i think itll “fix”#me by any measures and id likely only grow far more sadistic and selfish but i wish for that world because i could live in perfect comfort#i could do anything i wanted and have anything i wanted and nobody would stop me#sorry this is just like. a long rambling in tags. i should shut up now
10 notes · View notes
seilon · 7 months ago
Text
i know im not alone on this but i also know this statement is like waving a stick at a hornets nest. my overall memories and nostalgia related to hetalia are generally not bad and i think it may have saved a depression-riddled middle school aged me from being lured towards way darker and more mentally damaging content or online groups
#im dead serious like before that i was getting into creepypasta which. look im not one to say horror would make my little developing brain#disintegrate or anything BUT as an online community and a subculture of sorts i think it was far more of a slippery slope into#toxicity and extremism and most of all romanticizing/normalizing things like self harm and unhealthy eating habits and so on#despite what a lot of people say on this site it’s really not an evil and fascism-endorsing show or anything#it just has occasional jokes or concepts that are a bit distasteful– though from what I can tell alot of the ones people point out are#improvised bullshit lines made up by english dub cast members#anyway I won’t get into that whole rant but point is i am so so serious it could’ve been so much worse#the worst thing that came of being into hetalia as a kid was being more prone to finding stereotype humor funny#which im still like. I feel like was much more distasteful in 2012-13 youtube content. like WAY more distasteful#and rampant in general. so even in a show that’s built on stereotypes like hetalia it’s TAMER than the stereotype humor of the time in#a ton of mainstream media. big youtubers were still doing casual blackface back then man. 99% of hetalia’s stereotype humor is like.#canadians are quiet and nice. japanese politeness is to an extreme. germans are efficient. americans are loud and like burger#sorry I said I wasn’t gonna go into this rant so. I digress. I was just thinking about this cause I realized seeing hetalia fanart#generally makes me feel a good- or at least not bad- kind of nostalgia. which seems adverse to the show’s reputation especially on this sit#food for thought or whatever#kibumblabs#oh yeah I know why I started thinking about this- a drawing of seychelles came up on my dash and i can’t help but feel warm seeing her pop#up because she was the first real full cosplay I ever did for a big con. (with help) i hand-made the dress and everything. :*)
4 notes · View notes
pissfizz · 9 months ago
Text
I’m going to lose my mind oh my god I am so scared for this quincenera wtf
#NOT MINE BTW I MISSED MY CHANCE LMAO#but Jesus Christ family I’ve never met before flying in from Panama
. god I’m so scared#I’ve already been dealing with some wack ass imposter syndrome ass shit cuz of how I was raised this is gonna make it SO MUCH worse#I DIDNT EVEN KNOW PANAMANIANS GOT QUINCES#i was raised with almost zero influence from any culture whatsoever I wasn’t even raised close to that side of the family#and like I’m mixed with white but I can’t even use that as an excuse cuz the cousin who’s quince it is is also mixed#and that side of the family is super tied to the culture and they speak Spanish and shit#i don’t even speak Spanish even if the family from Panama doesn’t think ima. total embarrassment what if most of them don’t speak english#when I’m surrounded by white people 24/7 I feel like a total outlier but the second I’m around anyone else latine I feel like that but WORSE#i don’t speak Spanish I don’t know anything about the culture I’m from the fucking pacific northwest and do digital art and watch anime#i am so far completely removed from everything I’m gonna be sick#my grandma is already so judgy about stuff my uncle was even WORSE and made fun of the stuff that was too white or too American about me#my cousins throwing the party are the least of my worries cuz at least their mixed and second/third Gen too#but oh my god the family I’ve never met before I’m so scared I’m so scared#i was already thinking like. can I even call myself latine bc of how I was raised and how far removed I am from everything. I’m mixed so -#-should I just associate myself more with the white side of my family. am I being fraudulent by identifying with that term just bc I have -#-the blood is that even enough maybe that kid had a point when he said I shouldn’t count as hispanic if I don’t know spanish#and thinking about showing up to my cousins quince as. me. it’s terrifying it’s awful I want to go I want to meet these people I want to -#-celebrate my cousin and be happy for her but GOD what if everyone hates us and just tolerates us cuz we’re related to them#i would say we’re the black sheep of the family but I feel like white is more fitting cuz I feel like we’re just slightly brown white people#god god god I’m so stresssd out by this#is this a weird thing to be worried about is this stupid is this selfish#and to make matters worse I DONT KNOW WHAT TO GET HER FOR A GIRT#vent
4 notes · View notes
brainjuicey · 2 years ago
Text
I'm not going to lie, this nytimes article about Val kilmer makes me cry when I read it!
Tumblr media
#its one of those things that makes life make sense#something real and tangible just words really about the idea of a man who stands for something that is meaningful to me#im never going to be a a handsome blond young man a moviestar in my 20s going to parties with cher or living the high life#but id like to believe i can have a similaar transformation.. that there is beautiful rich meaning in the absurdity of my own intentions#and not in the publicity or availability of my life#i am a deeply private person. i know i dress conservatively and dont make myself the centre of attention in groups. i know i will never be#a gorgeous boy and all that that affords someone in the world. oh to be young and beautiful and have it be something only for myself and#not something that makes me bitter about how im treated based on it even when its being treated well#i have an affinity for hollywood and movies and images and music for someone who is staunchly anti-industry#absorbed by this carefully curated fantasy in my head where there's something special and pure. the clear absence of reality#i guess im just trying to figure myself out still and that never stops#and as im feeling like shit making a toasted sandwich for dinner after skipping my classes not dealing with my emotional baggage stuck in#a small town once again. so far removed from everything that makes me feel like my life is remarkable. im just trying to tell myself that#its all apart of something bigger and when i look back i will have a different perspective and that#maybe i just want to be the hero of my own story#i want to be talking to the talk show of everyone i love and look up to and i want my life to read like it defines me
2 notes · View notes
a-b-riddle · 9 months ago
Text
Part Six
Can't stop thinking about reader finally giving the boys a taste of their own medicine. And hurting my own feelings in the process of it all. I wanted to make this a baddie reader chapter, but its just a saddie reader chapter. I played Down Bad by T.S on repeat while writing this. Y'all need to thank @blueladys-world for being my ventor for this part.
None of them came the next day to pick up the box of everything you had collected. By everything, quite literally everything. Birthday cards and gifts. Keepsakes from your time together they had given you. Even going as far as returning lingerie they had given you. You didn't want any trace of them in your home anymore. You were gonna have to work hard in rebuilding it to be your safe space once again.
You were surprised that someone from the expo had DM'd you. Renée was an author who had tried to stop by to your stand, but got too caught up in the day. She was in London, working on her next series installment and wanted to pick your brain. Writer to writer.
The two of you agreed on a time. She had mentioned wanting to try this restaurant the last time she visited and you already knew you would be putting that meal on a credit card. It was a bit of splurge, but after the past week you deserved it. You could even wear that sexy black number that had been collecting dust in your closet.
By the time you were done getting ready and squeezing into your dress, you looked more ready for a date than dinner with a colleague.
A colleague. You had a colleague!!!
The knock on the door pulled you from your girlish glee. You didn't need to guess who it was. Your friends knew to text you before they came over and Renée had agreed just to meet you at the restaurant.
It was one of them.
You didn't even t bother looking through your peephole before you opened the door to find Johnny standing there with a floral arrangement of your favorite flowers.
Johnny began to speak, afraid you were going to shut him down immediately no less. But no words came out. His eyes traveled up and down your body, taking you in.
A vision.
You wanted to snap at him that your eyes weren't located on your hips. But damn if it didn’t feel empowering seeing Johnny’s gaze gloss over.
"Fuck me." He swore, gathering his bearings before realizing you were dressed. In a sexy black dress and heels and makeup and oh, fuck you were going out. "Where are you going?"
"First off, none of your business," you said holding a finger up. "And secondly, what are you doing here?"
"Listen," "Bon-"
"The box is right there." You said pointing to a large cardboard box on the floor. "That's everything."
"If you just let me make it-"
"Up to me?" You cut him off again. "I'm over it. Really."
"Just give me a chance."
"Either you haven't spoken to the other two to know I am well and truly done with this situationship, or you’re hoping some half-ass apology and flowers will let you get a last fuck in and the skedaddle. So hopefully if it was latter, hopefully the former answered that for ya.”
So if that's all you came here for, I've got to get going. My reservation is at seven and it's rude to keep a friend waiting."
"It's been a week and you're already going on a date?" He accused.
"Who said anything about a date?" You didn't outright say it wasn't. Where would be the fun in that? “It's just dinner with a colleague.” You didn’t want to lie. It wasn’t a date. But you didn’t need to say it was a woman. “Hardly a date.”
“Look at the sight of ye!" He said, taking the opportunity to take a quick look at how deliciously your ass filled that dress. “A fookin’ dinner with a colleague. Like one of us would show up to a briefing like that.” You opened your compact. Not needed in the age of cellphones but loving the feminine touch.
There was something so... seductive about using a compact mirror to apply your lipstick.
“Kyle does have the legs for this dress.” You said, applying that lipstick he loves. That same shade that looked beautiful on your lips. The same lipstick you would mark all over Johnny’s body. “Believe what you want. Not my problem anymore.”
You put your compact back in your purse along with the lipstick in case you needed to reapply it after dinner.
Johnny's eyes zeroed in on your lips before his eyes met yours. That's when you felt it again. That undeniably spark of chemistry that you had with him. With all of them. That feeling that sucked the very breath from your lungs and for a moment all you could see was the man in front of you.
"Bonnie," he said placing his hands on your neck. His thumbs stroking your cheeks softly. "Just one more chance." He begged, his voice breaking. "I'm a fucking git, but I won't let you go again. I won't leave." You knew that when it came to promises, Johnny had proven that even if he didn't mean to break them, he had forgotten he made them in the first place.
But in that moment you didn't care. Even after everything, Meredith was right. You had loved them. Everything else had ended so shitty. John had blamed you. Kyle had only shown up until it was too late. And Simon. The last time you would ever hear his voice was after he said such cruel things to you.
No.
If you were done with Johnny, you won't let the last time he fucked you being a quick, rough fuck doggystyle before leaving you naked and alone in your bed.
No. The last time with Johnny needed to be good. It might make it harder to finally leave, but you needed this. You needed to know that he could still make love to you and not just fuck you like an animal in heat.
"Johnny?" You asked. Your mouth dangerously close to his. "I don't want you to fuck me."
"I don't have to," he said, starting to take a step back to give you some space before your hands reached his. Holding him in place.
He can't let you go. You couldn't let him go. Not yet. Just one more. You needed just one more time to get him out of your system. The closure you needed.
"Make love to me." You begged, your eyes pleading. "I need to know that I wasn't just something you wanted to fuck." You don't move as his eyes search yours, looking for reassurance. When you nod, his mouth softly touches your own.
His hands travel along your body, but never fully leave you. Sliding your neck to your back. Pulling your body closer to his. A hand placed on your hip so tightly he's afraid you might disappear.
There's no rush, no haste in his touch. His mouth not eager to devour you.
He's slow. With his hands, his tongue. Even when he picks you up and walks to your bedroom with your legs around his waist.
He doesn't throw you on the bed.
Not this time.
He lays you down. His body laying on top of yours. His hand skimming along your bare thighs, but not daring to travel any higher.
But damn you needed him. You wanted love making, but if he didn't get inside you soon, you weren't sure you could let him go after this. You weren't sure you would be able to leave.
"Johnny," you whimpered, pulling away from his mouth. "Please." You took his hand, putting it between your thigh. Aching for any friction.
He obeyed without hesitation. If you told him to get on his bark, he would in that moment. Anything to make you happy. Anything to keep you.
"Got to get you out of this dress first." He resting on his knees before he began to slide the black satin from your thighs to your stomach. You maneuvered, helping him undress you leaving you in nothing.
"I thought you liked the dress." You couldn't help, but tease. Your hand finding its home on the back of his neck, pulling you to him once more.
In a tone lacking any note of humor and in all seriousness, he looked at you. Really looking at you. Taking in how your smile reached your beautiful eyes before he said, "I want you bare to me when I take you."
You felt your stomach flutter at his words before he began to take off his clothes.
He joined you again. His body relaxing when they got between your legs again. His mouth traveled from your exposed neck to your nipples. Sucking and flicking them with his tongue until your back arched. Pressing harder into his mouth.
Your hands tangled in his soft brown hair before you boldly guided him to your already dripping core. He slid down your body before his hands began to push your knees apart until you were fully expose to him.
With your knees bent, Johnny settled on his stomach, placing soft kisses on your soft inner thighs. God, did he love seeing you squirm. He smiled at your tortured expression before looking down at your sex. "There she is." He said before placing a kiss on your pussy.
It wasn't sloppy. He wasn't diving in and licking at your center like so many times before. He was kissing it just as tenderly as he kissed your mouth. Slowly building it deeper and deeper. Adding tongue. Breaking away to readjust his head.
The delicious ache between your thighs began to become to unbearable. "Need you inside me." You panted. "Johnny-"
"Shhh." He soothed. "Got to warm you up first , Bonnie." He said before slipping his finger inside of you. One was all it took before your head settled against the pillows again. When your body relaxed, he added another. He would need to add three to make sure you were good and ready.
His digits stroked that spongy spot inside of you that made your toes curl. "You're barely fitting around my fingers." Johnny was a good 6 inches in length, but the girth is what always did you in. It hurt to take anything past his head into your mouth. If you fucked him without any preparation, especially after a week of no sex, he would tear you into too.
His tongue caressed your clit, your eyes squeezing shut as you felt your first orgasm creeping up on you.
"Johnny." You moaned, your fingers running through his soft brown hair.
"Give it to me, beauty." He panted. "Come on my face. Squeeze my fingers, Lass." He begged before his mouth went back to you.
It was like lightning. Your body now sensitive after being forsaken for so long. Your vision blurred and before you could process it, Johnny was sitting on his haunches between your legs, stroking his cock.
You could only nod, dazed and barely keeping a grip onto the reality of what this was.
The end.
He leaned forward, his cock nestling against you. You knew this was going to be nothing compared to his fingers. "Tell me if I need to stop."
You smiled, mockingly. Reminding him, "Not our first time together, Johnny." just our last.
"You were wrapped tight around my fingers." He gave a half smile before kissing your forehead. The gesture like a knife twisting in your heart. "I just don't want to hurt you."
"I'm ready." You brought your legs around his waist again. Pulling him to you, your arms wrapping around his neck as your mouths meet.
He presses into you. The head of his cock sliding inside just one or two inches. You body contracting around him in a small spasm. He swallows your moan and lets you adjust. He pulls away before looking down where the two of you meet.
"I could die like this, Lass." He said, his breath coming out unsteady as he tries his best to control himself. So close to just burying himself inside of you to the fucking hilt. "Seeing you like this is this first thing I want to see when I make it to the other side." You let out a choked cry as he pushes deeper inside you. Another inch. And another. And another until you're taking all of him.
He slurs something that sound like "fuck", but you are in too much of a daze to care. You arch into him, trying to get closer.
His thrusts are slow and deep. His pubic bone brushing against your clit making you whine and squirm. Begging for more.
You're not sure how long he had fucked you like that.
You needed it to stop.
You couldn't handle it. The softness. His words.
I could die like this, Lass.
Your lip quivered as you told him you wanted to be on top. You needed a moment. A chance to create a bit of space before he shattered your world yet again.
He pulled out. His absence already making you ache for him again before he settled beside you.
You squatted above his cock. Your feet flat against the mattress as you grabbed his hardness and slipping it inside of you. The sound you let out was pornographic. A high pitched, soft moan slipping from your lips as he buried himself inside of you again.
You placed you hands on his chest. Using the leverage to ride him. Your arms serving as barrier for you to get your bearings.
You used his body just as he had used yours. Throwing your head back, you moved faster and faster. Readjusting so your hands went from his chest to his stomach, giving him a better view of your connecting bodies.
His hand slips between the two of you, thumb pressing against your clit, and you tighten even more around. A needy whimper coming out of your throat. The sound mixing in with the sounds of his labored breathing and slapping skin as he begins to fuck up into you.
Even though he had been doing all the work for the last several minutes, you felt the tension start to creep into your calf.
"Fuck fuck fuck." You screech, barely able to hold yourself up any longer. "Ow." You hissed as the cramp took hold.
"Leg cramp?" He asked, not even faltering in his thrusts. You pathetically nod before he takes it upon himself to flip you on your back again.
"I'm going to do this every chance I can." He promises, pressing a searing kiss onto your exposed neck. "Any chance you'll give me." You can't take it. His words, his mouth, his fucking cock. It's too much. "I'm going to show you how much I want you. How much I want to fucking worship ye. Do anything to make you feel good. Not going to leave you again like that, Bonnie."
You reach for him again, pull him into a searing kiss just to shut him up. You need him to shut up. You couldn't take his false promises. You wouldn't survive it. Couldn't.
"Shit." His thrusts quicken, his thumb returning to your swollen bud. Flicking it in a way he had crafted into an art. He buries his face into your neck and you know he's getting close.
You weren't too far behind.
He didn't want to come, not yet, but this was fully out of his control. It was pathetic. A week without sex and you had him nearly coming in the first ten minutes.
But that's what you want. To see him lost in the idea that you would stay.
"Johnny." You groan out. "Please. Cum inside me."
He draws fast, beautiful circles around your clit that immediately push you over the edge. You shut your eyes tight, squeezing him like a vice as you come in strong waves, continuing to push inside you.
in out in out in out.
Deliciously clenching around him tighter and tighter until he can't take it anymore.
"Fuck," he says again, and you see it in his face, and you see it in his face, the second it's all over for him. You want to sear the image in your head. Keep it there forever. Knowing you'll never see it again. The way those enchanting blue eyes squint nearly shut before closing in complete ecstacy.
His mouth would open. A moan caught in his throat that he isn't ready to let go.
His hand closes around your hip, holding you to him while he presses as far as he can go, and it's only then do you feel his cock twitch in quick, jerky movements. He moans out your name before taking your mouth into a searing kiss.
"I fucking love you." He says. "So fucking much."
He was still under the blanket when you returned from the bathroom. You picked up your clothes up from the floor. Looking at the clock realizing you had less than five minutes to get out the door before you would be late for dinner.
"What are you doing?" he asked. You couldn't look at him. Hearing the panic in his voice almost made you stop. Tell him it really was just dinner with a colleague. A woman. That you would be back. Beg him to wait until you came home.
"I can't cancel on the dinner." You said slipping your feet into your heels. "This was a mistake."
You weren't sure why you said it. You weren't sure if you were trying to convince him or yourself. If you wanted to hurt him or make him think you regretted it when you would truthfully do it again. You would do it again and again. You would never stop.
Like Johnny, you could have died in that moment, but for a completely different. Where he would be content, you would be saved from the pain. The pain currently coursing throughout your very soul.
"Lock the door behind you." You say as you practically sprint out the bedroom. Only slowing in your stride to snatch your purse off the kitchen counter before running out. The door slamming behind you.
The restaurant was nicer than you expected. The wine alone was the price of an entree. You didn't seem to be phased at all and were relieved when Renée insisted on picking up the bill.
Your dinner had been delicious and the conversation even better. Renée wrote fantasy romance and wanted to pick your brain about a Why Choose. You had nearly spent out the over priced wine you weren't even really enjoying. Oh the irony.
"It's like all the rage now, but it's hard to make more than one appealing as the love interest. You should have seen the Goodreads comments on my last book. So many people bitched about my FMC not ending up with a character who was quite literally her adopted brother."
"So," you took a breath trying to find the words. "I'm going to be honest. I only read your latest book and I loved Luka. But I can't compare him to other MMCs you've written about so I don't know if they are similar or different. But what I can say is that I'm seeing like this trend of MMCs where they are all this dark-haired, brooding or mysterious character who dislikes mostly everyone and is only soft for either a select few or only the FMC."
"I think if you are going to write a Why Choose you need to think of guys you wouldn't mind falling in love with." You couldn't help, but think of what drew you to your boys. "One could be the leader. Someone who isn't afraid to have his neck on the line. To make sure everyone else is taken care of and being strong enough to handle the stress of that. He would be big on words of affirmation. Lifting the FMC up. For me, it would be someone that I know will take care of business. He's confident in his decision. That confidence would extend to me." You clear your throat. "If I was the FMC, that is."
"Okay." She nodded, pulling out a pen and notepad. "You don't mind if I-"
"I don't write about polygamy." Crossed that bridge. Currently trying to burn it. "So feel free."
"Another could be the one who it's so easy to fall in love with their charm. The one who falls to his knees. Wanting to worship every inch of her. The one who makes her laugh. That one to make her forget about the sadness that creeps into her bones. The one to hold her whenever he could. He's about quality time and physical touch."
"So different love languages." She said, her pen quickly scribbling.
"Yeah." You said, leaning forward. "Then there is the gift giver." Your mind went to Gaz. Most of the gifts and trinkets in the box sitting by your door had came from him. He had gotten you new earbuds when yours broke. When you were being harassed at your gym, he had bought you and him a membership at a different one. "The one who would give her the world if she asked for it. If you're going with a high fantasy then maybe the one to take note of something at a market that the FMC had been eyeing and he bought it for her. Just someone who takes notice like that."
"So acts of service would fall with all of them then you think?"
No. Simon had been the one who probably spent the least amount of money on you. He didn't praise you like John. He didn't even try to attach himself at your hip like Johnny.
But if you needed something fixed, he would come fix it himself. He'd be damned letting a strange man into your apartment. And alone? Fucking forget about it. The one who hated any sort of cardio activity outside of fucking you, but didn't hesitate in attempting to keep up with you when you wanted to go on a run and get some fresh air. If you needed something done, he didn't pay someone else to do it. He did it. If you wanted to do something, he made it happen. He made you safe.
You couldn't bring yourself to say explain it. Your eyes begin to itch. Warning you to think of something else.
So instead you just told her yeah. That they would all commit acts of service. And even in your hypothetical explanation of characters that haven't even been written yet, Simon was still the ghost among them.
"Lucky fucking girl." Renée said setting down her pen.
"Yeah." You said, downing the rest of your wine.
You walked home. The cool crisp wind feeling like it was whipping your exposed skin. It was soothing as the ghost of Johnny's touch still seemed to burn you.
You had hoped that you would get some closure, but you just felt hollow. You came twice and still manage to leave unsatisfied. Johnny wasn't malicious... he was Johnny. He wasn't like the others. Simon would never apologize and John and Kyle wouldn't try to keep reaching out after you told them know once.
Johnny couldn't stand you being mad at him. He never could. He would beg and beg for your forgiveness. You didn't regret fucking him one last time. He needed to know that you were well and truly done. There was no going back from this.
"Hey, Love!" You were pulled from your thoughts at the sound of a voice coming from a source you couldn't see. You perked up, quickly scanning the dimly lit street before your eyes settled on a cluster of shadows just across the street. "Yeah." The slurring voice said again. "Talking to you gorgeous!"
You resumed your trek home. Now picking up your pace. "Don't be like that! Where ya off to?" The voice followed you. You kept your gaze straight. You were three minutes away. Three minutes and you would be at your building.
Three minutes.
Three minutes.
"What's the rush?" Another voice joined the cacophony. "Just want to have a chat."
You turned. They were maybe twenty feet away. You kept your eyes glued to them as your started to make a run for it.
You had made it about ten feet before your body collided with someone. Firm hands gripped your upper arms, steading you as you threatened to fall back.
You sucked in a breath of air, ready to scream when you looked up. It was too dark to make out the man's facial features. He was tall. His head eclipsing the street lamp just behind him. You shook beneath his hands. The voices behind you now silent.
"Keep walking." You didn't need to see his face. You knew that deep timber voice anywhere. He released you from his grip before letting you pass him.
"Just wanted to have a chat." You heard one of them try to reason. "No harm done."
"No harm done yet." Was the last thing you heard Simon say before you broke out into a full fledged run.
5K notes · View notes
writerpeach · 2 months ago
Text
Extracurricular Activititties
aespa Karina x m!reader
16k words
Part Two of Fantastic Breasts and Where to Find Them
Tumblr media
“Nothing like a little fresh air to start the day off, right, sweetie?” 
You can’t say you agree. 
But Karina has a certain way of convincing you to go for an early morning jog when she shows up in the kitchen—wearing a pair of tight leggings that leave absolutely nothing to the imagination, along with a skimpy tank top, gray and low-cut, no bra underneath, that insane chest the center of attention. 
The exact word she uses is jog, but it’s a brisk walk at best, given you're far too out of shape for anything more. You're not even sure that exercise is the goal here—when every step she takes is a chance for her breasts to jiggle underneath this skimpy, poor excuse for athletic attire and claim your attention. 
Not to mention it's cold—not quite freezing, but not the ideal jogging weather, and you swear she's doing this just to rile you all up. Especially when her nipples are practically poking straight through the thin fabric which has you straining to keep your eyes from wandering too much.
There aren’t many bodies out this early when the weather gets like this, but that doesn't mean Karina isn't the center of attention even from a distance. Her face alone gets people staring, and you know firsthand how difficult it is to keep your eyes from drifting down to those ridiculous tits and that useless stretched-out piece of fabric that hardly conceals her bouncing chest. 
The entire walk feels borderline torturous when all you can think about is what's waiting underneath those clothes, so you look away at anything you can find—leaves falling from a tree, a bird flying, the license plate of a parked car you try to memorize. 
Nothing seems to help. 
"You're staring, sweetie."
"Me? No clue what you're talking about," you lie, avoiding her alluring eyes altogether when she glances back with a knowing little smirk. 
"Yeah, you are. My ass, maybe? Enjoying the view?” Karina asks, as if she isn't fully aware of all the attention she's gotten with her top hanging loose, nipples nearly exposed, looking like sin itself. 
"It's hard to not notice how pretty you are, Karina," you reply. She giggles and bumps her hip into you, nearly sending you flying. 
"Am I distracting you, sweetheart?" she asks with this faux innocent tone, because the smile she wears can't mask her intent—
"Something like that," you mumble in response.
"Well, someone’s not subtle. It's almost too cute, seeing how hard you try to not stare at my tits."
"Can you really blame me? They're practically spilling out."
"Oh, are they? Haven’t even noticed,” she says, cupping them through the loose top, as if wanting to push her nipples through the fabric to further tantalize. "Or maybe that's the point—to see how flustered you'd get, trying to keep your eyes away. Guess I didn't overestimate your weakness."
"You're insane. It's freezing out here."
"Me, insane? Maybe—for your dick."
You're more than a little embarrassed to hear such blunt words coming from Karina's sweet lips in the open, as if there’s no chance that others can't hear everything as they walk past.
But Karina just laughs, so carefree, not having any concerns as she turns around and jogs backwards, forcing you to look directly at those bouncing tits and the hypnotizing bounce they create with every step. "I'm just trying to get the blood flowing. You think I actually wanted to go out for a run? I don't even own a sports bra, sweetie. I get more than enough exercise from you railing me every day."
The embarrassment worsens to hear her talk like this, but the blush creeping on your face goes unnoticed as you both head back home. It takes a short time before you're pushing the front door wide open, walking inside from a brisk, chilly breeze to the comfortable warmth of the shared apartment.
And suddenly your back is flat up against the door before you have the chance to kick your shoes off. "What are you—"
"Hush." One word is all Karina has to tell you, silencing any incoming words from your lips as she pins you against the wooden surface, grabbing an unexpected handful of your cock right through your sweatpants. "Seems like it worked after all—seeing how hard you've gotten just by looking at my chest. Feels like you're fucking throbbing, sweetheart.” 
"Fucking hell—" The groan slips out when Karina squeezes your cock through the fabric, leaving you helpless to her will as she presses forward, pinning you further. You don’t say another word while her lips claim your neck, her tongue swiping across the sensitive skin. 
"What are you gonna do with this big cock, I wonder? Hard as a fucking rock, and we haven't even done a thing."
"What else do you think? You're gonna let me fuck those big tits of yours."
Karina beams with satisfaction and slips a hand inside your pants, getting a better grip to fully feel the arousal of your length that aches in her fingers. "Good choice."
Those pretty lips find a place against your own and press deep, holding you there to trap you, one hand stroking your length, giving soft, constant pumps to make sure you're every bit as hard as can be. Karina isn't planning on teasing, not when she can get you nice and ready while the taste of her lips lingers. "Getting so worked up, aren't you, sweetheart? You’re so sensitive—so fucking hard."
"All thanks to your help." You get a cute laugh out of her from that as she drags you towards the living room, eager to speed things along. Your head is spinning, cock aching for more while she stops in the middle of the room with a smile across her angelic face.
"Be a good boy and sit." 
Following her orders, you kick your shoes off and throw them aside, taking a seat on the couch. "I'm not a dog, Rina."
"Never said you were," she replies, peeling her tank top off over her head, until those huge, heavy tits bounce free that you know so well. Nothing could steal your gaze away from this perfection, the way her chest jiggles from the slightest movement, mesmerizing to look at. "You're more like a cute, needy little puppy."
You'd be annoyed at her little remark, if not for the stunning view as she takes a seat on your lap, topless, straddling you. And once you have those massive breasts right in front of your face, inches away, all the irritation is easily ignored. 
All else is forgotten, your hands moving automatically to reach up and cup them. They're soft, with a satisfying weight that makes her give a little chuckle when you fondle them. "You always act like it's the first time you're seeing them."
"Feels that way," you answer, squeezing a good, generous handful, enjoying the warmth, the heaviness pressing against your palm. It's fucking heaven, and then some, the sensation of your fingers sinking into that heavenly flesh, those stiffening nipples begging for attention. “Your tits are so amazing, Rina. So goddamn big—so perfect.” 
The praise does something to her. You can see it in her flushed cheeks and a hint of a shy grin forming. A rare sight, coming from Karina, who always acts so damn confident all the time. 
She watches you closely, enjoying the attention you lavish her bare breasts with, how you squeeze them together, massage them and just play with her chest as you like. 
"It's really that easy to shut you up, isn't it?" Karina can barely finish before those words dissolve into nothing but a small gasp once your fingers pinch and tug her sensitive nipples, watching in pleasure how stiff they get. And there's no denying the addiction you've picked up, this utter obsession to bury your cock deep between those beautiful milky tits until you can't handle anymore, shooting such massive streaks of thick cum that look so good all over her.
Her mouth falls wide open at your not-so-gentle touch, every sharp tug of stiff buds eliciting a moan. Just the sight of her drives you wild—her supple breasts look fucking delicious, nipples so sensitive and responsive, and you don’t think you’ll ever get enough of them as the weight rests in your palms. 
"Come on, don't stop there." Karina pleads in your ear, encouraging you to keep it going, these violent squeezes she's all too receptive to on the daily. "You look so hungry for these fucking tits. Go ahead, suck on them, sweetie. I know you're dying to." 
Leaning back, Karina lets you have what's rightfully yours, with a proud expression etched on her face while you have your way. The angle is perfect for a messy trail of kisses that move across her pale, creamy flesh, tracing a blue vein along the way, tasting the beads of sweat forming on her delicious chest. 
It's the start of something even better—a greedy path that travels all across until your mouth finally finds its proper place, sealing right onto one of those stiff nipples, giving a lewd slurp that makes Karina react with a pleasant gasp.
"Mm, fuck—such a good boy," she coos in your ear while you devour her chest, teasing the perfect buds that get so excited in response to all this attention. Her hand rests on the back of your head, stroking your hair gently as your mouth remains locked on a breast. Karina just watches you work, attentively studying the way your teeth nibble, how hungrily you suckle, how utterly depraved you must look. 
"God, Karina, your tits, these perfect fucking tits—" 
The words slip out almost against your own volition before you latch onto her other nipple and give the same treatment, equally desperate, suckling until saliva drips down the corner of your mouth, her encouraging whimpers everything that fuels your arousal. 
“There you go, suck on those tits, they’re all yours,” Karina says, voice a bit shaky while your ravenous mouth gives a gentle nibble around the hardened nub between your lips. "Make sure you take care of them both, sweetheart.”
And honestly, how could you not—
Letting them both slide between your lips, such lewd noises come out of your mouth when switching between them, an absolute feast that has no end. Nothing could stop you from doing this for hours, forever even, this delicious fucking pair the best meal you’ve ever had, with these pretty nipples doused in spit, all slippery. But there’s only one thing better than your mouth all over—and Karina knows exactly what. 
"You about ready to get that cock between them?" she asks while you suck and slurp so frantically, but you’re unable to answer with your mouth so full of her heavy tits, devouring them like you’re starved. And once you do finally let them drop, she uses the weight to smother you, a moment you're happy to lose yourself in, pinned there with your face buried in her cleavage.
This is as good as it gets, you think, when all you can see is pale flesh covering your vision, just silently pleading for Karina to suffocate you with those plentiful breasts. It’s a moment that lasts far less than you’d like, only to see that expression on her face as she regretfully lets you come up for air. 
"Do you even have to ask? Rina, please—I need to fuck these tits so bad. I’ve never been more ready.” 
The answer leaves her so smug when she slips herself out of your lap, the rest of your clothes tugged away in a flash. Karina is already down on her knees without a single thought, chest level at the perfect height when she sits back on her heels. That sultry look on her face is to die for, big tits jutting out, full and swollen, mouth-watering as can be.
"Do you want me to blow you first? Or do you want these tits instead?"
"Karina, baby—" you groan at how she toys with you, squeezing the sensitive head with a devious smirk written all over her sinful features. "Your tits. Your beautiful tits, that's all I fucking want."
She giggles at that and runs the swollen head of your cock all over her breasts, slapping it against the jiggly flesh, before ending with a light little graze over a hardened nipple while you get more and more restless. But Karina lets your desperation sink in, staying patient herself as those pretty eyes gaze at your reaction, drinking in the look on your face—
"Hand me the bottle in the side table. The one with strawberries on it," she requests. You’re a bit confused at first, but go ahead and reach out across the cushions to open the drawer, digging out what she asks for—something you didn’t even know existed. 
It's this small bottle of clear liquid with tiny red strawberry shapes all over the label, and it doesn't take a genius to understand what this is for.
Karina flips open the cap, leaning in, a mischievous smile tugging at the corner of her lips. Without a word, she tilts the bottle, pouring the oil all over her chest in agonizingly slow drizzles, filling the room up with the scent of strawberries. It's nothing but erotic; a daze falling over you while she shifts to get comfortable—on her knees, back straight, making sure those huge breasts look as enticing as possible while she watches in amusement. 
Once that abundant chest has gotten the attention and coverage needed, she pours out more into her palms, her delicate hands all slippery when she strokes your aching shaft. 
"Yizhuo bought this one for me, I think, for my last birthday. Told me it would smell nice. But she has no idea what I've been saving it for..."
"Lucky me.” 
“Lucky, lucky you,” Karina repeats, emphasizing it by shaking her chest, the delicious jiggle so hypnotic, and the sheen created by the strawberry-scented liquid sets your desires ablaze. It has your cock hardening impossibly so, and you can only imagine how this will feel, given how soft they are to begin with, now all slick and slippery.
One more drizzle for good measure, right down the valley between her heavy breasts, and the anticipation alone is killing you. “There we go. Now let's have some fun.” 
Before you have the chance to reply, Karina takes your cock, stiff as could be, trapping it between her slippery breasts, nestled right within her cleavage. A sharp groan is all it takes to register the amazing feeling—sinking right into the pillowy softness. 
And Karina indulges, sliding the weight of those oily tits along your shaft, giving all this delicious friction you've been yearning for. 
“Shit—feels so good,” you groan as those heavy tits work their way down your shaft. They swallow every last inch, disappearing entirely through that slippery cleavage, this relentless slide up and down that has you reeling.
“Good, because they look perfect around your huge cock."
Karina says little more, her large breasts doing the talking as she squeezes them tighter, the slickness making all the friction between them even easier for your cock to glide through. You're left fucking breathless at how her tits completely engulf, and how your shaft disappears, all covered in massage oil, glistening every time it reappears. 
The deepening pressure does wonders for your aching cock, and the stimulation is unreal—Karina’s full lips form into a pretty smile while she grinds her chest, finding the utmost satisfaction in seeing you lose it. 
"Sweetie," Karina purrs, looking so pleased. Your breaths are shallow, and she pays no mind, focused fully on squeezing your dick so firmly between those soft, bouncy breasts. "Tell me. Tell me how this feels."
"So fucking good, Rina—never felt anything like it. Your huge fucking tits are driving me crazy." You lean back, cock sandwiched between her full chest, and just let out these desperate groans as you drown in lust. 
All without having to do a thing but sit and enjoy the view of your favorite place to be. 
Karina revels in how crazy she drives you, and there's little point in hiding it—your face says it all. You can hardly get anything out that isn’t a loud grunt or groan.
"How long can you last, sweetie? You’re throbbing like crazy,” she teases, and it’s less a question, more of a challenge—either way, you have no chance here, fighting the pleasure rising, boiling inside. And Karina knows, she can see the weakness all over, a smugness present when she pushes those mounds tighter together, not daring to let your leaking shaft escape.
"Fuck," you curse, bucking your hips almost involuntarily, losing yourself in the warmth of her breasts, overwhelmed with how slick and fucking heavenly it all is. 
“Wanna help a girl out?” Karina offers, knowing your limits are growing shorter by the second. Your answer is simple, and you grab her shoulders without a second thought, thrusting upwards, fucking those gorgeous tits with everything you have. The sight is almost too much—seeing your shaft plunge into the slippery depths of her chest, disappearing again and again, enveloped in all this pale, creamy flesh. 
"Must feel so fucking good. You've been wanting to fuck these tits so badly that you can't even speak, poor thing," Karina tells you, her eyes watching intently while you thrust wildly with all this vigor. The urge grows as you chase your climax, cock begging to burst as you drive right between the huge mounds, a frantic rhythm only hastening while that lust dominates.
"Keep it up. Just like this, sweetie, keep that big cock right between these perfect tits," she purrs, and no longer is Karina doing most of the work—strawberry oil-covered breasts on either side and your throbbing cock in between.
You won't last another minute at this rate.
Karina loves how desperate you get, the utter control she has while you give into your carnal desires, unable to do a single thing other than bury your hard cock as deeply into that beautiful cleavage as possible, not a thought on your mind beyond emptying your balls.
"I hope this feels as good as it looks, sweetheart," her honeyed voice adds, just heightening the desperation. You can hardly even think straight, an aching urge like no other, and you can already picture how good Karina is going to look covered in your hot cum. 
Just a few more pumps are all you have left, and Karina moves her slick breasts along your cock to speed things up. Not that you need any additional help in reaching that goal, because the next stroke might be your last. 
"Shit, Rina—these fucking tits," you stutter out, breath strained, balls tight as you brace for release. 
"Too much to handle? Let it all out, baby, blow that load all over these big tits.” 
There's no stopping what's about to happen—the constant throbs of your cock pumping away in between these glistening breasts tells you there's no hope, and the grip you hold on Karina tightens, pulling her forward to trap your stiff shaft even further. 
“Gonna fucking cover you—"
All this pressure building, threatening to erupt at a moment's notice, and there's only a single word from her mouth, prompting that inevitable release.
“Sweetie.“ 
One last squeeze does the trick—with a single pump of your cock between her tits, you cum. Harder than ever before, the thickness shooting so forcefully, spilling all over and painting a canvas of creamy streaks from between Karina's slick, heavy mounds.
Her expression softens at the sticky mess spilling everywhere. It's one powerful burst after the next, but Karina milks as much as she can, applying a firmer grip, her fingers massaging gently, urging more of those messy spurts from your sensitive tip.
Every last drop is rightfully hers—that pale skin gets splattered and glazed, creamy white streaks filling up her cleavage. A streak hits her chin, while most of it lands on her chest, just as intended, leaving behind a huge mess you've been desperate to give.
And Karina looks so satisfied, admiring the scene she helped create—all that milky seed, thick streaks clinging to her breasts and the rest just dripping lazily while your sensitive shaft still twitches. She holds you there in her grip for as long as she can, just for those lingering spasms, never taking her eyes off even as you start to falter.
"Good boy," she finally coos while you give a couple more lazy pumps, smearing what remains onto her heaving breasts. 
Despite your exhaustion, Karina's enthusiasm to display herself with the results of your climax smeared all over her enormous chest doesn't fade. She’s far from shy, lifting those messy, covered breasts and showing every detail, every streak of hot white. 
"Guess we should thank Yizhuo for such a thoughtful gift, wouldn't you say, sweetie?"
You can hardly muster a nod, slumping back against the pillows of the couch and panting hard as you try to stay conscious—her huge, perfect tits drenched in your load the only thing keeping you upright. 
"Hey, don't pass out on me now," she warns, giving your sensitive dick a few strokes, letting the feeling snap you awake, the overstimulation too much to bear. "We're not done yet, are we?" 
Your answer doesn't come quick enough—she laughs a bit while giving another few lazy strokes to your spent cock. "Jesus, Rina. You make me cum that hard and expect me to go again?"
"Mhmm," she giggles, shimmying down her skintight leggings until they fall down around her ankles, leaving nothing else but thin, pink-lace panties that get tugged down and kicked off in record time. Your balls can’t be completely empty already. Since when has one round ever been enough?"
You can’t exactly argue that, not when there's nothing left to stand in the way as your eyes feast upon Karina's bare cunt, her legs parting, exposing everything and just spreading the slightest bit so you can have this delicious sight of her body in its full glory.
"I'll give you a few minutes. Or are you telling me you don't wanna get balls deep in me? If so, I'll just take care of myself, I guess."
That's an empty threat if you've ever heard one, but still, nothing brings out the hunger faster than a comment like that. "Don't you fucking dare. Give me five minutes—we'll see who can't go again."
"Sure thing, sweetheart. Just come and bend me over once you're ready," she says with this innocent tone that is anything but. "I’ll be waiting."
Karina gives a quick kiss to your cheek, leaving a pile of discarded clothes in a heap as she saunters out of the room, her ridiculous wide hips swaying, naked as can be.
"Five minutes!"
Your head still spins, but you take a deep breath and head towards the kitchen. Quickly opening the fridge to grab a bottle of water, you chug it all as fast as you can. Because in five minutes, you better be ready.
It’s nowhere near long enough to calm all that heat burning inside you, but it’ll have to do. 
Little by little, you start to regain your senses when those five minutes are nearly up, and you're not even sure if it's enough—no, you're certain it's not, but you head to the bedroom regardless, determined to prove her wrong.
When you step through the open doorway, all you can see is Karina and her nude perfection sprawled out on the sheets in the most provocative manner that she can manage, her flawless skin now devoid of your orgasm or any other messy fluids. She's not idle, that's for sure, a hand occupied between her legs, and you get a fantastic view right from the start. 
Two of her slender fingers plunge right inside her needy cunt while the other hand circles a pretty nipple, tugging on it to tease, this lewd scene an invitation for you to come join.
"Thought you might not show up," Karina says, voice all sultry when all you've done is stand there and stare, looking right back. "Got a little warmed up without you. Hope that's okay.” 
"And you call me the needy one.”
She hardly pays attention, more focused on the hurried movements her fingers make, curled to hit just the right spot as they slide effortlessly in. The bedsheets are rumpled by her head, where Karina lies as she thrusts in and out of her pussy, and her contorted features show no trace of shame—eyes heavy, gaze sharp, touching herself like there's no one else around. 
"That's because you are. Now be a good boy and get up here.” 
You aren't about to disobey. 
Her moans don't cease for a moment, getting louder, less controlled by the second. But this heavenly view, Karina's flawless naked figure—it's everything, every gorgeous detail. You can only do so much admiring from the foot of the bed, and eventually, the call to explore her body is undeniable.
No reason to stall the inevitable when you climb the bed, sinking knee deep into the mattress. A front seat to this show, how Karina gets her fingers so deep in her cunt, until the sight is just torturous to watch, not to bury yourself between her legs already. 
"Didn't hear a please. Don't tell me you've gotten so needy you've forgotten your manners?"
"Please? Pretty please, sweetheart,” Karina says in the most sarcastic tone imaginable, because she knows you're going to listen to her, regardless. While she looks like this, in such a depraved state, body entirely flushed and sticky with her arousal, you know your desire to tease her is absolutely meaningless. So you give an unapologetic glance, staring between her spread legs, and just savor the most erotic view, how two pretty fingers continue working away at her entrance.
But just when the show gets good, she pauses long enough to withdraw her own wet digits, making way for a much-needed, anticipated replacement.
Those digits pull out, absolutely drenched and shove right in your mouth, pushing in all the way until you slurp up her arousal. And while you suck her fingers clean, tongue wrapping all around them, it's not lost on you just how pathetic you must appear right now—chasing down that taste, long past the point of it lingering in your mouth, not embarrassed in the slightest. 
"See, I knew you were the needy one." Karina is trying her hardest not to laugh at the desperation you have while sucking her fingers, but it's a losing battle. But you really don't care, not when you can make a show out of it, so sloppy and eager to keep them in your mouth. 
But as much as you love the taste that is unmistakably Karina, it's not nearly enough to distract yourself—you're rock hard again. It doesn't matter that you came moments ago and that there's no way in hell you'll last any reasonable amount of time, not when her delicate hands reach right for your shaft, giving a few long strokes, which has your cock pulsating almost immediately. 
"Are you even gonna be able to hold it long enough to fuck me, sweetie?" she asks, knowing damn well that the answer is an obvious not at all, but her hands feel so fucking good working away that you're going to pretend it's a possibility. “Because I need your cock inside me already. Before I get it myself."
Karina isn't patient like you thought, not in this state. Her thighs are all spread and slick, pussy looking more appetizing than ever before while you take a second to admire the view—the lips of her dripping entrance, pretty and plump, where your entire cock wants to sink right in. And judging by the look given, Karina agrees with that sentiment. 
"Well?" she asks, the lack of patience shining through. Her wide, doe-eyed stare watches intently as you get situated. "Sweetheart, it's all mine—What are you waiting for? I’ve been waiting all day for this."
“All day? We haven’t even been up all day. Now, who’s the needy one?” You hardly get a response when her slender fingers wrap right around the base of your shaft. No more words, no more wasted motion—she strokes your hard, throbbing length slowly, guiding every inch right between her slippery folds. There's nothing to prevent what's next, no say in the matter when you feel the head of your cock disappear inside that wet heat. 
You finish what she starts, easing yourself deeper into her warmth as a long moan erupts from Karina's parted lips. The slow push has her falling flat onto the mattress, head hitting the pillows as she adjusts to being stretched wide—and there’s no chance you can resist sinking all the way in, balls fucking deep, so your stiff cock, still so sensitive, slides the rest of the way into her dripping, hot, greedy cunt.
It feels like heaven the instant you fill her up, the walls of her pussy clamping down tightly around you the moment you're in all the way. Like always, the first time you sink in feels the best, where your dick throbs the most, smothered by all this warmth you can’t escape. 
"God, Rina, you’re way too fucking tight—can’t believe how good you feel,” you groan as she gets such a harsh grip on your cock that you can barely move an inch. There's plenty of reason for hesitation. No need to deny the urge to stay right where you are, balls deep and surrounded by this heat.
“Go on, sweetheart—you don’t need me to tell you what to do, right?” Karina smiles, so blissed out and ready, her voice breathless as the last syllable trails off. And that look has you responding on instinct, the way you roll your hips back to the very edge where the head of your cock nearly exits, right before driving in balls deep once again, spreading her pink pussy lips further. "Let me feel every inch, baby.”
Another hard thrust. This time you bury yourself without hesitation while words turn into nothing but moans, every movement you make sinking in as much as you’re capable. 
It's hard to even find words to express what you're feeling right now; it's overwhelming, being inside Karina, all this heat and tightness, how goddamn wet she is for you. Nothing else feels nearly this amazing. And her reactions, how your cock makes those slippery wet lips part whenever you slide back in, this endless bliss on repeat—it’s perfect. 
"Fuck me, sweetie, get as deep as you can," is all Karina can get out, delicate fingers reaching out to sink into the sheets as you fall right into a deep rhythm. It’s gentle at first, but only for a fleeting moment, when you see this ravenous gaze that demands more, for you to fuck her without restraint. 
You eagerly oblige and get your greedy hands all over her, holding onto that slender waist to anchor yourself in, fingers digging deep into the smooth, pale skin. Every ounce of caution vanishes, and then you start to really fuck into her wet cunt, buried deeper than imaginable, groaning whenever that tightness strangles your cock, refuses to never, ever let go. 
Through these constant plunges that get your shaft so wet, her heavy breasts bounce so freely with every thrust that bottoms out with ease. It’s a constant struggle where to direct your attention, looking at her beautiful features, to her huge tits, and right back again—watching as Karina forms these lewd, drawn out moans while you fuck her like she demands, her heavenly cunt swallowing you right up, begging for more. 
"Rina, baby—you're fucking perfect, these huge tits, your tight fucking cunt,” and you can’t even finish the thought, not a single word left in your mouth when she clenches around your cock, so warm and slippery, desperate to keep you there. 
“My needy boy can’t even think straight when he’s fucking me so deep? Poor thing,” Karina says, and while all you can think of is making her moan without relent, she guides your hands up to her chest, the perfect opportunity to grope at her big bouncy tits. 
"There you go, play with them however you like—god, just like that, keep fucking me like a good boy," she orders, eyes watching so closely when you bury to the hilt, all that slickness guiding your movements in a warm, sticky mess. 
Not a thing could ruin your determination to give Karina everything she wants, when you keep those tits right underneath your palms, at a loss for words as they bounce unabated every time you plunge yourself back inside her, moaning every time. Her ridiculous breasts can't even fully fit inside your hands, even as you try, the heftiness unlike anything else when you squeeze as this beautiful woman writhes underneath your touch. You’re not sure what you’ve done to deserve her, but you’re not going to question a thing. 
“Karina—“ There’s no point in getting a coherent thought out, because your mind is blank, flooded by all these sensations that surround your cock, and the softness of her jiggling breasts while you play with them so roughly, nipples so sensitive as you tease and tug them to get these deeper moans out. 
"You’re so fucking wet,” you manage to finally get out, but the words sound slurred when you're drunk on lust, the vice grip of her cunt working you to a near delirious state. "Your tight fucking pussy makes my cock feel so good, I swear I can't fucking handle it—"
That’s when your hips move on their own, rutting without care, and you don’t even wait for Karina to respond, grabbing such a rough handful of her tits that gets her to moan so desperately while you slap them, hard enough to make a mark. 
“Mm—baby, you know I love that,” she says, and you watch in awe how her breasts bounce repeatedly after every slap, a rosy hue appearing beneath that perfect, milky white skin. Your grip on is anything but gentle, pinching a nipple in between raw smacks that resonate across the room while your thrusts help create a harsher ripple, the redness on her chest more encouragement than anything. 
Karina loves it. The harder you're fucking her, the more suffocating her pussy gets, moans starting to mix in with these cute, desperate whimpers that she just can't help. Her nipples underneath your fingers get so hard, even more sensitive whenever you aim your palm directly there. And god, you can't even think about anything else when your cock is buried deep in this delicious warmth, smacking her heavy tits as roughly as you please and staying exactly where her hot little cunt craves, leaving yourself nowhere to go but deeper and deeper between her legs.
"Fuck, sweetie, harder," she moans, words tumbling free when you play with her chest like it’s all you live for, showing absolutely no mercy whatsoever. "Pound me, fucking pound that pussy with everything you've got. I know you can.” 
Your hands keep grabbing greedily, giving her chest an impatient, possessive grope, with this satisfying feeling where they jiggle so deliciously in your palms. Nothing feels as good as that, seeing them in constant motion, so bountiful when you cup them and give these shameless slaps—loud and frantic, alternating to each, focusing on how this hypnotic sight drives you insane, and the sounds Karina makes are just the cherry on top.
"Gonna cum if you keep fucking my cunt that hard, mmph, fuck, don’t stop, don’t fucking stop—"
It's all the more motivation to go even harder, bucking your hips, pistoning into Karina's dripping pussy as roughly as possible, each thrust guided by the constant flow of her juices that keeps you so deep inside. She’s gotten so sensitive by the rough treatment of her swollen, tender breasts, that you just watch the redness on her creamy flesh that doesn’t fade, how they bounce around so obscenely while you fuck her. 
"Harder, keep fucking me as hard as you can, sweetheart—" is all she can choke out, words coming in ragged bursts whenever a powerful thrust sends her breath hitching. 
You fuck her tight cunt the roughest she's ever taken it, grabbing her tits as aggressively as before, hips moving at the same breakneck pace that leaves you both losing it, sweat glistening on her skin, her walls swallowing you right back in each time you withdraw.
When you speed up past your limits, you can't help yourself—Karina’s warm fucking cunt feels so good that your inhibitions get tossed to the side, unable to control the way your cock pounds into her like she demands, like she deserves. 
"So close, sweetie—god, gonna fucking cum, make me cum all over your cock,” she says so desperately, eyes half-lidded, the walls of her cunt clenching so impossibly tight you’re not even sure if you can last before she hits her peak. But when you get another slam in that’s so deep, Karina loses it—cumming hard right on the spot, her whole body going tense, back arching from how strong the euphoria feels. 
There's a rush of warm, sticky fluid coating your cock while you refuse to relent, those pretty features displaying how intense the pleasure hits when she shakes, thighs quivering, toes curling, mouth falling open. And you do your best to let this high linger, slamming your hips against her body so she can take it all, even though you're barely hanging on yourself.
"Fucking god," Karina groans when her eyes open again and her gaze lands directly on you, a sweet, satisfied grin on her lips as you struggle to maintain composure. "So good at fucking my tight pussy, aren’t you? Didn’t think you were going to last long enough for me to—"
“Please, I have some self-control,” you start to say, not even believing the words yourself. 
"Then get rid of whatever you have left," Karina breathes heavily, chest still heaving. And while you pump your cock all the way inside, she wraps her long, slender legs tight around your waist, heels digging into your back. "Need you to cum inside me. Think you can do that?"
You just thrust as fast and deep as possible to answer, the entirety of your wet shaft slamming into until everything becomes a blur. There’s nothing left to prevent the groans that escape your lips when you bury your face into the crook of her neck and ride that edge, fucking into Karina with reckless abandon. 
"Need you to fill me up, make me feel all that hot cum," Karina pleads in your ear, her wet, warm cunt getting an even tighter grip around your cock that makes you go completely insane from how close you are. “You can do it, sweetheart, cum deep inside me, you know that’s how I like it."
But she doesn't have to tell you that when this tightness wrapped around you won't let up as you go completely feral, groaning into the crook of her neck, picking a spot and licking, kissing, sucking her pale, beautiful skin. You lose all focus, and it's easy enough to follow Karina's urgent pleas when those dulcet tones slip into your ear, when the intensity grows and you're pulling every ounce of pleasure you can get.
“Almost there, aren’t you? Empty your balls in me, sweetie. I know you can’t take it any more.” 
Your hips do what Karina asks without any hesitation, surrendering completely, plunging yourself inside that hot, heavenly heat until there’s no turning back. She’s keeping you buried there with those powerful thighs, making sure there’s no escape for your aching cock while you get as deep as possible, nails digging into your back for extra measure, and with a final, powerful thrust—
That’s when you finally unload inside Karina—you can only groan helplessly while erupting thick, hot spurts, her nails dragging across your back as that perfect cunt milks out everything she can get and beyond that. Such an explosive release overwhelms you, especially as she holds you hostage with those sweaty thighs, and all you can do is pump her full of seed like there was never any other option. 
Nothing can ever, ever compare, endlessly filling Karina’s greedy little cunt, just helplessly throbbing when you’re buried so deep, flooding it all into her body with the release she’s earned. Even as you fuck your load deeper into those slippery depths, she keeps you locked in place, still trying to drain every drop from your balls that she can get, practically begging for more. 
But when it starts to calm down—that doesn’t mean you have any urge to pull out. 
“Feels so warm, that’s a good boy,” Karina praises, but you can hardly get a word out when you look up, eyes landing right on that body glistening with sweat, chest heaving to catch her breath after it all. It’s a view you can’t resist, seeing how her breasts rise and fall when she lets out exhausted gasps, and if you weren’t buried in this sticky mess you’d be more than willing to lick her all up. 
“Rina, fuck—“  you groan out when her limbs unlock from your waist one by one.  
"Didn't think you had that much left in you after you covered my tits the first time," she says, meeting your gaze and you can’t help but admire how her disheveled appearance makes her look even prettier. "I think your balls really do never empty."
"What am I supposed to do when your body looks like this?” you ask in this desperate attempt to catch your breath. ”When your tight cunt feels so fucking good, and those perfect fucking tits—"
Karina just laughs. 
"Always going on about my tits. I think you're a little obsessed with them. Not that I blame you. I'm sure you saw those stares earlier, too, on our little walk back?” Karina asks, a gentle reminder about the useless walk that started this all. “Must have felt good to show me off, knowing the guys couldn't believe their eyes. But only you get to suck on them, play with them like you just did. Only you get to put that cock between them and—"
"Jesus, Rina, please, I can't go again.” That's not entirely true, but the mere suggestion already has your spent, exhausted cock stirring with interest again. Through this entire conversation, you're still inside Karina, her cunt remaining impossibly warm, this sticky mess threatening to overflow and spill everywhere. 
"Poor thing, I've gotten you all tired out. You sure you don't want one more? Just a quick little ride while I bounce these tits in your cute face? I promise to go nice and easy
" Karina smiles, batting her eyelashes for added effect. As much as that sounds like everything you’ve dreamed of, your body betrays you in that very moment as the sensitivity starts to kick in. So, with an unimaginable amount of willpower, you pull yourself out with a groan.
When you both look right down to the mess you've created, a huge, sticky flood gushes right out of her—an absolute deluge of white leaking out, dripping all over her thighs and onto the brand new sheets. 
“Too tired to answer, sweetie? You don't want another load dripping out of me just like this? Like I said, I wouldn't go hard—just nice and slow, while you watch. A sweet treat for my sweet boy."
God knows you want nothing else, to just lay on your back and drink in the view of Karina riding you, watching those perfect breasts jiggle and bounce around wildly while you don't even have to move. And yet you can't deny this exhaustion in your bones that has other plans. "Karina, please, I'm so—"
"So spoiled? Is that what you were going to say?" she responds cheekily.
There's not a damn chance in hell you could handle this woman going full speed on your poor, overstimulated cock when she's capable of making you blow within seconds, riding you like only she can and no doubt knocking you unconscious when the job is done. 
"Do you even know what nice and slow is? When has that ever been your style?"
Karina's jaw drops in disbelief, a hand over her mouth as if she's truly surprised by the remark. "Are you saying I'm incapable of such a thing?"
"That's exactly what I'm saying."
"Fine, you big baby," she teases as she shakes her head with a smile. "I'll fuck your brains out some other time, I guess. Wouldn't want to break my favorite toy."
You're unable to form a comeback, succumbing to eventual collapse on top of her, face resting on her chest where you take a second to indulge and revel in the sensation of being pressed against her warm body. Karina's fingers run gently through your hair, stroking those sweaty locks.
"You can do anything you want to me next time. But after I'm good and ready again."
"Anything, huh?"
You nod, not even fully cognizant of what those words might mean until it's far too late, when a wave of fatigue takes its effect. Karina guides you away, bringing her head closer and placing a gentle kiss on your forehead.
✩ ✩
Hours pass by before you stir once more, having fallen asleep right afterwards on Karina's supple chest, the softest pillows you could ask for. You're unsure what time of day it is, if it's evening or even the next morning already—all you know is you’ve never slept so well. 
"Look who finally decided to wake up. It's about time, sleepyhead,” a familiar teasing voice greets as you look up to find Karina's playful features looking at you.
"Sorry. Someone sucked all the energy right out of me."
"Oh, don’t be so dramatic. How are you feeling, sweetie?" Karina asks, running fingers through your hair so tenderly. 
"Good as new. Could use a shower, though."
"Well, how about you wait a minute? There’s just
” Her voice trails off, and it's clear she has something important on her mind, as her fingers slide through your disheveled hair that she's been stroking for quite some time now. “Something I’ve got planned for you.” 
You're not even completely lucid yet before her lips crash against yours, a heated, demanding kiss that can't be refused. No doubt she dominates the moment and slips her tongue inside your mouth, tasting you as thoroughly as possible. And that‘s all it takes for the lust to creep back in, forcing the blood to rush south and a familiar hardness to kick in. 
"Remember what you said before you passed out?"
You just stare at Karina dumbfounded—certain you had a clear recollection, but also well aware this sudden awakening makes recalling events quite difficult, so she leans in to remind you. "Told me you'd let me do anything. Are you still on board, sweetie?"
Now you remember. It's not like the words came from nowhere, and you aren't in the business of breaking promises. A simple nod is all the response needed, and Karina bites her lower lip with anticipation. And with that, she disappears into the bathroom, leaving you curious about whatever she has in mind. When she reemerges, the picture becomes crystal clear.
Karina returns back inside, now sporting black lingerie—stockings, garter belt, the works, all connected with an assortment of straps. There's no doubt your eyes are locked right on that sinful body and all those curves, because you’ve never seen her look so good. Quite the surprise that you can’t even process it all; the way her thick thighs look in that sheer fabric, and those heavy tits look fucking amazing in this particular bra, held together with hopes and dreams, the barely existent fabric exposing far more than it hides. As if her chest didn’t already need more showcasing, this amplifies the sheer size of her assets, drawing further attention right where it should be. 
"What do you think?" she asks, a small smirk appearing on her pretty face as your hungry eyes wander. 
You can't possibly be expected to form an intelligent response. Such a seductive outfit has you nearly speechless—Karina has never looked more breathtaking, straight out of your deepest desires. "Do you even need to ask?"
"Yes. Because I like hearing you say it," she replies almost sheepishly, posing to show herself off, bending over forward to show off that absurd amount of cleavage. 
"Like every fantasy I've ever had, Rina. You're absolutely fucking gorgeous.” 
"Thanks, sweetie." There's a slight pause while she beams from ear to ear, and then the mood shifts when she looks at you—you can see the gears turning inside her head. "Now, follow me. Lose the boxers."
You do so at once and discard that piece of clothing, not particularly caring where it lands. Following Karina comes second nature as you walk obediently behind to the living room, which looks exactly the same as earlier—except for one thing.
Waiting for you is a single chair sitting in the middle of the room, without arms or extra frills and a curved back, but mostly an ordinary black chair. "Alright, sweetie. I want you to take a seat right here."
So without hesitation, you sit, positioning yourself in the chair as comfortably as possible while Karina’s eyes linger, scanning your naked figure while you await further instructions. She gives no immediate explanation, instead circling behind you as that silky touch caresses your back, along your shoulders, making her way around to your neck, nails gently scraping across. 
And while she's got you distracted, Karina moves quickly, taking both of your arms, holding them behind your back as she ties your wrists together with what feels like soft rope, securing you in place. 
"Anything, sweetie?" she echoes right in your ear, the question seemingly rhetorical while she ties you up tight.
“Yeah—anything.” 
Once finished, Karina stands directly in front, towering over you, sizing up your helpless state as you get a closeup view of your desires manifested, full-blown sin, like it’s a reward for your cooperation. 
You can only stare, nearly stunned to silence as your vision is filled by the curves of Karina's body and her lacy undergarments—the shapely thickness of her stocking-covered thighs, the dangerous valley of her breasts desperate to spill out, all framed nicely and right in the center of your line of vision, everything displayed like a beautiful work of art, no ounce of modesty in sight. "Get a good look, sweetheart. Don't be shy."
How could you when she has your attention held captive so easily—the way those tits bounce from the slightest movement, and how goddamn delicious her body looks that makes you throb between your legs like never before. You don’t close your eyes or turn your gaze while you salivate over this gift just out of reach, cock aching like crazy, unable to think, and certainly unable to move.
Karina does her best to interrupt your thoughts as she grazes the side of your face, letting her manicured nails scratch down to your chin, the slightest hint of contact sending shivers through your body. "You seem pretty comfortable tied up. Enjoying this?"
"Not as much as you seem to be," you reply, earning you this devilish little look on her face that turns more sinister with every waking second. Karina tilts your chin up, diverting your gaze from that sinful chest so she forces eye contact. “Tell me, sweetie—what would you do right now if you weren't all tied up like this?"
What wouldn't you do? The options are endless, but at the very least you’d pin Karina right on the ground, rip off every piece of fabric hiding her beautiful body and well—
It’s hard to even put your fantasies into words. “Bend you over that fucking couch and shove my cock right inside you. Wouldn't even take those panties off—just shove them aside and make you cum so hard you forget your own name.”
The reaction to those words is instant. First, her eyes widen, like she’s visualizing just that, swiping her tongue across those sultry lips. Her weight shifts and those creamy thighs press together, with no missing the way her breathing deepens, chest even that more enticing, making your greed boil to the surface as you ache to grope and squeeze those full tits in your grasp. “Would you now? What would you do once you get my little cunt all stretched out for you, dripping wet? Tell me, sweetie. In detail."
A brief moment to gather your thoughts while Karina continues to pull out your deepest fantasies. “With an ass like that, there’s no way I’m not getting my hands all over it—slap those pretty cheeks until it stings, until it’s bright fucking red with my handprints marking you all over.” 
“Fuck, look at you trying to act all tough and dominant,” she says, and lets out a long, content sigh. "More. Come on, don't hold back."
"I'd finger your greedy little asshole while pounding into your cunt. Open you up real good and fuck you while you beg for more, beg me to ruin you.” 
Her smile only gets bigger at the suggestions—she's clearly enjoying this. "That's cute that you think I'd ever beg for anything—that's really more your style," she replies, licking those glossy lips like she's imagining every little detail, so tempted to put your words into reality. 
"But it has been a while since I had anything in my tight ass. But what comes next? What else would you do to my poor, helpless body?"
You imagine it all, Karina with her hands tied behind her back, bent over in this obscene angle, face pressed up against the cushions with nothing to help her escape while you just have your way with her— 
"I'd fucking destroy your cunt. Grab that long, beautiful hair and pull hard on it, so fucking hard. Hold those hips and smack that perfect fat ass until it's bruised while I pump that hungry cunt full of hot cum. Again and again, for as long as I want."
The mere thought alone makes you so impossibly hard it hurts, and you realize you’ve fallen into her trap, going along with her game far too easily, not thinking things through when all you’ve done is riled yourself up. But seeing the satisfaction spread over her face as you stumble over your words is worth the sacrifice.
"Who knew you had such a dirty little mind? Just hearing all that, fuck, do you know how wet you’ve gotten me?” Karina asks as she steps in a bit closer, locking lips again, tongue slipping in so easily. Her free hand strokes you slowly, gripping your cock hard enough to make you moan in her mouth—and while those luscious fingers glide all the way down, you feel something slide over your shaft, down to your base, something secure and snug around you, applying just the slightest pressure. 
"Rina, what—"
She smiles, so innocently, like she's proud, and it clicks into place what exactly it is before she explains. 
"A cock ring. It should make everything I do to you feel even better. And maybe help you last longer. You should start to feel the effects in a minute or two," Karina answers. "It doesn't hurt, does it?"
You shake your head immediately; the idea taking some time to register—wondering how a small rubber ring could amplify all these sensations, but you trust her words. With some thought, you conclude this might actually be a blessing when dealing with whatever you're about to be in store for. You're not exactly in a position to argue with it anyway. 
Despite the pressure, the tightness, you can't complain—the sensation feels strangely wonderful. All the blood rushes to your throbbing cock, making the pleasure feel far greater than usual, almost overwhelming, every stroke Karina gives infinitely more intense. 
"Starting to feel good, isn't it, sweetie? Getting nice and sensitive for me?"
Your cock twitches in response, almost involuntarily trying to thrust upward to feel even more, desperate for whatever Karina will give. So distracted by how good these fingers feel wrapped around your shaft you’ve almost forgotten your helpless state, only reminded when the rope digs into your wrist and limits your movement. With an almost painful grip, she jerks faster, all that sensitivity flaring up, making every sensation all more powerful. 
When she stops stroking, her thumb just presses down on that spot right below the swollen head, rubbing ever so gently. Jerking forward becomes something out of your control, and you grit your teeth at the intensity as she applies constant pressure to that area, a loud moan you had no intention of releasing escapes so easily. That same pattern continues, a ritual: a slow rhythm of strokes that ends in her rubbing that same sweet spot, then she picks up right where she left off, squeezing and pumping her hand back up. 
"I can just imagine it—I bet it feels ten times more sensitive than ever. And even harder than you've ever been. God, sweetie, you're leaking so much already, and we've only just started. I'm going to have so much fun with you."
She's not exaggerating, and when one finger circles over the tip, drawing back down a path down to your base, slow, painfully slow—you know this is going to be torturous to endure. With every little touch or stroke, your cock grows more desperate, throbbing heavily in her gasp, craving every bit of stimulation like oxygen. If not for this tight little ring preventing your release, you have a feeling you’d already be making a mess all over your stomach. 
But what really undoes you is the teasing smirk on her face. The way her thumb brushes across the sensitive tip, eliciting an audible gasp when she pulls away. 
"Does it feel good when I stroke your big, throbbing cock? When I squeeze it just like this? Karina asks, refusing to move faster than she needs to, a maddening pace, up and down, all the way to your swollen, dripping tip, collecting your precum on her fingers. “Are you trying not to lose it already?" 
When you only groan in response, desperate and unable to put any coherent thoughts into words, Karina presses her thumb against your leaking slit for a fleeting moment, before stroking quicker, sliding all the way down to the base of your shaft and repeating the motion again. 
With each little touch, each little graze over your cockhead, she grins at every noise you let slip—every single whine, every last whimper. Karina grabs your cock as rough as she pleases, the other hand coming to fondle your heavy balls, squeezing just the right amount to get you absolutely weak—rolling the weight between her fingertips. 
“Now, sweetie—tell me, wouldn’t you like me on the sofa, my legs all spread, dripping wet while you fill up my tight cunt? Your perfect cock plowing in and out of me, splitting me open, that would feel so good, wouldn’t it? How would you even take me if you were so sensitive, so on edge? You’d fucking burst as soon as my pussy swallowed you up, wouldn't you?" 
All you can think of is exactly that exact scenario—how fucking tight and wet that warm fucking cunt always gets, squeezing your sensitive shaft and bringing you to climax within the very first thrust. Imagining burying yourself deep into that sticky mess, folding her in half as you fuck her at your leisure, a raw, merciless pace. And then filling her with your sticky cum as those tits bounce from each vicious stroke, over and over, using her body exactly like you need.
You try to shove that image from your mind, knowing you're already falling apart from the tiniest bit of imagination. 
But it's nothing to how Karina makes you feel with her delicate fingers wrapped firmly around your cock, twisting a bit before stroking down to the base and then repeating all over again, spitting directly onto your cock to ease the glide. 
“Could you even manage not to burst when you get buried deep in this ass?” she asks, snapping your attention back, keeping her thumb circled around the base of that swollen cockhead. “Maybe we can test that out. See how quickly you blow your load when I'm sitting on top of your cock, spreading my cheeks open and stretching my asshole until you're buried as deep as I can take
” 
“Rina, please—“ 
And there's no reply—just the deliberate, focused teasing when Karina spins around, now with her back turned, offering a glimpse of that amazing ass you've been dying to get your hands on. Before you can even prepare, the supple flesh of her ass sits back against your shaft, grinding against what’s trapped right in between her soft, luscious ass cheeks.
That's when the true agony kicks in. That tight, round ass starts rubbing your poor, deprived cock, while your restrained hands tug against your binds, the urge to grasp her hips and slam the full length straight up her asshole becoming unbearable.
"It's a little selfish of me, isn't it?" Karina chuckles, leaning back on your body. "You can't even do anything right now. All I'd have to do is sit on this needy cock of yours, get it all inside this tight little asshole, and your balls would be drained within seconds. Just need a little of that strawberry oil that smells so good. It's been a while since you've fucked my ass—what, a week maybe?"
The grinding persists, using your thighs to help guide her, filling you with frustration as you struggle in this helpless position. It's impossible to take what you desire when you’re tied up, the teasing insufferable.
You can’t deny that every inch of Karina is sculpted by the gods, and that ass—indulgently round, voluptuous cheeks, always flaunted with those snug sweatpants or the tightest jeans imaginable. It's not even fair how relentless she’s gotten, and you can only stare as your shaft slides helplessly between her plump cheeks, the only thing between you and heaven is that flimsy piece of fabric covering her asshole.
"Rina, please, god. I swear I’ll—“
"What was that, baby? Please, what?”
Your response falls silent the second she pulls off, spinning back around to see your desperation up close, letting your cock twitch helplessly against your abdomen. The loss of warmth against you is almost a greater cruelty than the sight of that chest all covered up in nothing more than thin lace, hopelessly confined.
"Didn't hear an answer. Is it getting to be too much?" Karina asks, flashing this all-knowing smile when she begins squeezing your cock hard, jerking the entire length with both her expert hands, the friction too intense to handle. The pumps get so frantic you can hardly speak, your balls growing painfully tight at all this denial.
"Y-yes—need to be inside you. Please, any part of you, baby," you plead, your voice sounding so pathetic, borderline unrecognizable. 
Karina ponders for a moment, brows furrowed, as though in deep consideration. You have no choice but to wait for her verdict, in torment, clenching your fists, dying for the chance to touch her. She presses a finger to your lips and runs it down your chest, flicking against a nipple that sends another rush of delirious pleasure through you. "No, not yet, sweetie. You've been such a good boy so far—just hold on a little longer." 
Her smile is every bit wicked as she swings a leg over around your waist, a bit of her weight settling on your hips. The fabric of her stockings is silky and soft, teasing the area where it rests, even more excruciating that you can't lay a hand on those thighs. Right away she resumes her harsh grip on your cock, pumping so fast, edging right to that climax only to deny it at the last moment—slowly and painfully easing back off. 
You're nearly shaking, hips bucking on repeat, not sure if the frustration feels better or worse than not being touched in the first place. Not to mention how everything feels ten times worse with this damn ring wrapped around the base of your cock that taunts you. "God, you really are ready to explode at any moment. Poor baby, you need to cover me in cum more than anything, isn’t that right?” 
"Yes, fuck—please, Rina, I can't take it, need to cum so bad," you plead, looking up at her, throwing all pride away. 
That's when Karina pumps you ever faster, dragging you over to that finish line, watching your reaction with those devilish eyes when she eases off before your orgasm has a chance to arrive, right back off your shaft and denying it once again. It's a long, torturous game—a few fast strokes, squeezing the head of your cock just how you need. 
And then she stops completely. 
It goes like this, with no reprieve, leaving your poor cock to throb helplessly against your stomach, painful when Karina leaves it abandoned with nothing but cold, frigid air. Bliss and denial, an endless cycle.
"So needy, aren't you, sweetheart? Wanting so bad to blow your load and cover me with this massive load," Karina laughs, admiring the strain on your face. “Tell you what—“ 
There’s a necessary respite that lets you breathe for a moment, when Karina squeezes your balls nice and tight, keeping that desperation held there for far too long. And that's when she reaches behind to unfasten her bra, moving at an infuriatingly slow pace, peeling the straps one by one, dragging this on for as long as she possibly can. 
You watch intently, hanging on each and every motion as she removes and tosses the entire piece right over your head. The best reward you can get for enduring this torture, you think. Her bare breasts come into view again—and it feels like the first time all over, nothing as erotic as these massive tits on display in front of you, that you almost don’t care that you can’t even squeeze them yourself. 
Almost. 
With nothing to stand in the way of your shameless leering, you do so, and Karina welcomes it—brushing her thumbs over her stiff nipples while you commit it all to memory. 
You're more than ready to erupt all over her, to spill everything across those pale breasts, and in the middle of your haze you hardly notice a familiar bottle popping open in her hands. As if this scene weren’t impossible to deal with already. Pouring oil all over her supple chest in a circle, Karina douses herself in more than a generous amount—stealing all of your attention when she rubs and spreads it evenly across her creamy skin. 
She has no intention of stopping there, generously applying more down to her abs, along that tight little frame, down to her milky thighs, still all wrapped in those silky stockings that drive you crazy more than anything. Now she's really playing dirty now, coating and slicking up her entire body for the occasion. And the worst part is how you can't do a goddamn thing—left watching this entire show while your cock aches with neglect as she teases her stiff nipples between her fingertips.
"Liking the view, sweetie?" she asks, running her slippery hands across her curves, knowing what a pathetic state you must be in, an oiled-up Karina up there with one of your biggest weaknesses. 
There's nothing you can manage, not even a nod as you're left helplessly staring, craving all that gorgeous skin under your own hands and you don't even have it in you to beg at this point. Anything you'd say would be beyond incomprehensible. "Can't say a word anymore? No more dirty fantasies you wanna share?"
Silence is a rare occasion, even when Karina has you bound up tight like this. So you must really be in awful shape. You'd love to give a satisfying response, but at this point, all your attempts come out as nothing more than groans. That's about all that you have left. 
Still, Karina takes that as an answer and climbs back into your lap, looking every bit irresistible, all covered and doused in that scented oil that soaks through whatever leftover lace exists, giving it all a nice glisten—nearly making your dick burst from the sight alone. She grabs a heavy handful of her breasts between slippery, oiled fingers, and just seeing her knead and fondle herself gets you squirming hard in your restraints, wanting so badly to sink your lips into them, desperate to have a taste. 
"Since you've been such a good boy—putting up with everything I’ve thrown at you and held on," Karina ponders out loud, as she begins to grind her oily body against you, all the friction intensifying every inch that touches, your skin burning with her touch. "Then maybe my baby deserves a nice, thick load across my chest after handling so much of this, don’t you? Think you could blow a big, messy load right across these tits for me?"
A frantic nod is all you have to offer, overwhelmed from her hot body sliding against you, all coated in warm slickness, driving you beyond the edge. Every ounce of your sanity is being tested. All this slippery flesh against your own drives you towards a finish that’s so imminent, so close, but you still have to wait until the very end, until Karina allows you that permission.
"That won't do," Karina says, slowing her movements down to a mere crawl. "Need you to use your words, sweetie. Let me know how badly you need it. Don’t I deserve that for getting you this worked up in the first place?”
There’s a string of words that escape that hardly make up a proper sentence. “S-so bad. Need to cum, please.” 
But that doesn't satisfy Karina in the slightest as she pushes off your lap and shifts lower down to her knees. This sight feels even worse than having her in your lap—far too tempting, watching her breasts bounce as she lowers and wedges herself closer, hovering between your spread legs. "Baby, we both know that's not enough. Give me a good reason to make you cum."
If not for those oily hands stroking over your thighs, you'd probably be responding a lot differently—but it's so tough to remain concentrated in this state, that the slightest touch nearly unravels you, the neediness in your voice escalating so rapidly. 
"F-fuck, god, please, Rina—want my thick load spilled all over you, need it all over your pretty face, wanna cum so fucking hard and cover every part of you. P-please. Fuck, need it so bad."
Your voice cracks near the end of it—enough for Karina to get both hands around your cock, her fingers fully gripping around every sensitive, throbbing inch of it. And god, you're so close it hurts. You feel like you've gone a month without any relief, and you can't suppress the moan that follows, the full brunt of an orgasm churning through your heavy balls, every sensation twice, maybe three times more powerful than usual.
"That's a good boy. Wasn't so hard, was it?" Karina chuckles, beginning to work your shaft with long, exaggerated strokes and her thumb circling all over the sensitive tip of your cock, admiring how absolutely broken you are. The climax builds an even faster and uncontrollable pressure, balls swelling so painfully tight—everything feels unbearably tense, not even able to imagine holding yourself back now. 
She gives your cock a light slap with her palm, drawing the most pitiful groan from you as you stare on in disbelief, the sensitivity too harsh to bear—and it's not any kind of relief when she gives another, a firmer hit to your swollen cockhead, afraid of blowing your load any second now. You think this is your limit, when all Karina does is deliver repeated slaps to your throbbing shaft, then gripping it even tighter before jerking her hand along the full length. 
"Look at you, you're gonna cum so much, aren't you? Maybe the biggest load you'll blow this month—let's put you out of your misery. Empty those heavy fucking balls and cum for me, sweetheart."
Those final words are all the relief you could've asked for, spoken with an affectionate smile as Karina leans forward and strokes your aching cock furiously, bringing you long past the tipping point. Everything begins with the hardest twitch in her grasp—an unexpected intensity that only progresses when she spurs it all on, her slippery, slender fingers pumping as fast as they can go, making sure you let it all out. 
And there's not an ounce of strength in you left to do anything but that, the tension within your balls unable to hold back anything, leaving you with the one option—to embrace it, the relentless strokes that help achieve ecstasy that's so long overdue. 
Karina's smiling, pretty face in front of you just adds an extra bonus.
There's no going back, and when your balls tighten, nothing can prepare you for the hardest orgasm you've felt in ages—all directed at her face as she anticipates what you've worked so hard for, not letting up one bit. You let out the most unrestrained deep groan as warm, thick spurts burst from the tip, immediately splattering across that stunningly beautiful face, hitting across her forehead and down to the bridge of her nose without a single flinch.
No thoughts to how far the shots reach as you explode more, spraying right across her cheeks, into her hair as Karina pumps the entire time, coaxing out your thickest load, changing the angle to drain you over her soft, pillowy lips as you tremble so violently underneath, overcome with a mixture of exhaustion and relief. Everything keeps pulsing hard—covering even more of her porcelain complexion in white, your hot seed running thick across her face as she unloads every heavy burst over herself, seemingly endless, not easing her grip on your cock even once. 
The strength of your orgasm lingers once your load empties across her face, leaving a complete and total mess that you'll never forget, Karina completely covered in these thick strands that start to drip, her expression quite satisfied and content. The aftermath lingers—breathing so heavy even once your cock finishes the grand finale, throbbing wildly throughout it all and even Karina’s left unable to believe just how much has built up during your denial. 
"That's my good boy," Karina sighs, continuing to pump your oversensitive cock, even though there's no more left to spill—a series of weak twitches firing off after such a large release as you're reduced to a shuddering mess. "Look at all this cum you've painted my fucking face with, sweetie. Aren't I lucky? God, it's just all dripping down, so fucking thick and warm. That must have felt so fucking good, didn’t it?” 
You can hardly hear the giggles escaping, or process the image in front of you, Karina all covered in white and dripping with the results of that long-awaited climax, some of it reaching her sweaty, oily chest as well. When her hands let go, all that tension lifts and you finally breathe with the greatest ease, sinking back against the chair. 
And that's when you get to let it all sink in, this mess that Karina wears—it's rather artistic, in the lewdest way possible, clinging to her lips and chin, practically everywhere, thick and messy. 
Your breaths take longer to even themselves out, despite feeling the purest sense of relief you haven't felt in weeks, unable to take your eyes off from how your cum starts to slowly roll down the side of her chin, where Karina catches with her finger and slowly swipes upwards. She makes sure you're watching carefully and brings it to her lips, delicately taking that long, wet digit in her mouth, wrapping and sucking her lips around.
It's absolutely sinful to watch her suck the mess off like that, tasting your seed right off her fingertips as she hums and savors your load. 
"Tastes even better after what I put you through," Karina says with this wicked laugh, and you can hardly move a muscle from all this. "But you know—" And that pause she gives is filled with a whole other sort of danger, that same grin plastered across her face while she stays kneeling between your legs. "Still haven't gotten to ride you yet. After a load like this, I bet you don't have much left to give, hmm?"
You can't even begin to believe what you're hearing now. 
"Jesus, Rina, are you trying to kill me? I think you emptied me enough for the rest of this month."
Contrary to what you want, there's this devilish look that lingers as she glances down between your legs, noticing how you're definitely still plenty stiff—maybe because of that magical ring still wrapped on your cock, or that you can't look away from those cum-stained features. "R-Rina—please, give me like a day or two, at least."
"Poor thing. Can't handle this much?" Karina gets a few more strokes in, gripping and sliding along your sensitive length as if you hadn't released that large load over her, the pain of overstimulation stirring again in the worst possible ways. "But what if I just keep you here, all nice and hard for me. For the next hour, for two hours, three? Would you like that, sweetie?"
Even her delicate, loving caresses cause your body to shake and convulse. And god, you have never been this sensitive ever before. "Please no—fuck, you can't—g-god, too much, hurts—"
Karina can't help but feel a bit of mercy, so she stops, slowly sliding a finger down to your base and removing the rubber ring from your sore cock—within an instant, your entire length relaxes. "Fine, fine. I suppose that's enough."
Just this sudden reduction in sensations feels like heaven, and all you can manage is a deep, exhausted sigh. But the thing that scares you—is how part of you could easily say yes. "Th-thank you, god—"
"But we're not ending the night without me riding the fuck out of you. You're not off the hook yet." Fair enough, you think, even if you'd be entirely useless after this whole experience. “So, shower or..."
"A little hard to shower like this," you remind, still struggling to gather energy. 
She stifles a laugh. "Oh that? Guess I should let you out of those," Karina muses, undoing the ties around both of your hands. And finally, you have some freedom, taking the deepest, most rewarding breath as she rubs your wrists to help alleviate the discomfort. "Offer's still on the table, though. One more go with me on top riding you?"
"Rina, please, what part of you're going to kill me was unclear?"
"Alright, alright, just checking," Karina laughs, hoisting herself off her knees. "Then come join me in the shower. Still got a bit of you on me." 
Now that you can get behind—because you'll never deny the chance to see Karina's naked body under the hot running water, all soaped up and lathered. 
✩ ✩
Karina has never been one to sleep in. Especially not when she has class in the morning, so you're surprised to wake up first, lying next to her warm, dead-asleep figure. You don’t remember much of anything before passing out, given that a proper round two (three?) didn't exactly go as scheduled. But the soreness does slowly return when you shift your body, and she's the sole culprit for that.
You can’t help but notice how beautiful Karina looks with hardly anything covering her voluptuous body—a thin sheet not quite pulled all the way over, exposing most of her pale skin. 
Moving carefully, you try not to wake her—but it's a mistake to underestimate just how much Karina's eyes are really closed when her arms pull you in, holding you hostage against the warmth of her chest.
"Stay,” she murmurs, breaking the silence and wrapping a leg around your waist. “Were you watching me sleep again?" 
"Maybe," you reply, reciprocating the embrace and sighing happily when her arms coil around your back, pulling you closer against her body. "Am I not allowed to admire someone who looks so beautiful in the morning?"
"Oh my god, shut up,” Karina grumbles, but she’s easily silenced when you kiss her neck, lips running delicately across her skin, breathing her scent in.
"Already so riled up for me this early? Even after yesterday?" she asks, the question murmured between soft pants. "Didn't tire you completely out?"
"Impossible," you respond, delivering more tender kisses, intent on working your way down as you start to explore. 
"So insatiable—where do your hands plan on wandering to, hmm?" Karina laughs, shuddering at the teasing strokes along her hips. 
"Somewhere you'd like, I hope."
Your answer leaves Karina hesitating to respond—only giggling quietly and helping you move down the curves of her body. "Need me to give you the tour?"
"Well—if you're offering."
"Like an impatient puppy, aren't you?" Karina teases, planting a kiss on your cheek. "But it's so fucking cute how desperate you are this early. My needy good boy."
"Can't help it when there's so much for me to explore.” 
“Explore all you'd like then, sweetheart," Karina offers, the words leaving her so easy as she takes your wrists, leading your hands up to her delicious chest that you immediately have the urge to knead, sinking your fingers deep into those full, pillowy breasts. 
"I assume you wanna start with these?" 
And her smirk just encourages your touch, a low sigh coming from her lips when you follow her cue, cupping and squeezing the heavy weight of her gorgeous tits in both hands, the warmth of them so delicious while you grab a firm handful. 
"You know me too well."
The enthusiasm you show isn't shy when you roll the stiff peaks of her nipples under your thumb, relishing the sounds that follow from Karina—the soft moans and whimpers when you toy with them. And you can't help but bury your face in those massive, heaving breasts, running your lips across every supple, tempting inch, absolutely drowning in all this pale flesh. 
"So greedy, are we?" Karina mutters, almost smug as her fingers rake through your hair, gasps building while enjoying the attention lavished on her breasts. You give a hard squeeze, savoring the feel of her soft, supple flesh filling your palms, the shape that fills your hands so wonderfully, and you plant the most greedy kisses all along every inch of that delicious valley, unable to pull yourself away. 
There’s nothing else to be said, not when these ravenous slurps can answer for you. 
Nowhere else you would rather be than kissing your way all across her chest, flicking your tongue against a nipple that gets these loud moans flowing when you take it into your mouth, sucking hungrily before pulling back and doing it all over again, feasting on the other.
You don't leave either neglected, rolling the other bud between your fingertips while your mouth slurps around the opposite, devouring as much as you can. With every seal of your lips, Karina somehow grows more sensitive the longer she squirms beneath you.
"Fuck, you're really enjoying this, aren't you? They're so sensitive," she moans, arching her back as her chest beckons, offering up as much as you can ask for. But per usual, you're not content with just tasting, teeth grazing ever so slightly across her pretty nipples, nibbling at each swollen nub. And the instant you hear the sharp intake of Karina's breath, that's all you need to indulge further—playfully pulling into your teeth, tugging even rougher. 
"Good," you respond without missing a beat between laps of your tongue, swiping over and toying with both nipples, giving no end of this stimulation that your lips provide. 
Karina holds the back of your head as your lips suck so fervently, long past the point her breasts glisten, covered in spit. She doesn't let you wander elsewhere just yet, not that there's anywhere else you would want to go, enjoying this buffet she serves so willingly.
"Oh my god—you're too fucking much, love your mouth on my tits," Karina pants, tugging at your hair, encouraging your lust. Her beautiful breasts bounce when they leave your grasp, but your lips and fingers stay relentless, tweaking and playing with her tits as your mouth gets beyond sloppy, popping off and licking all over with even more vigor, a hunger that can't be satiated. 
Her hand around the back of your head guides you to whichever needs the most attention, your mouth gladly following, working the perfect combination between your lips and teeth to tease out a plethora of whimpers, desperate cries, saliva dripping everywhere. You suck and suck without mercy, completely gone, absorbed in her huge fucking tits like nothing else exists—
"Shit, wait, wait—sweetie, come back up," Karina suddenly demands, pulling you out of your lust-fueled haze. It's a tough separation to make, prying your lips involuntarily off her swollen, slippery buds. 
"What? What’s wrong?" 
"The time. Fuck, I can't be late today," Karina sighs, peering at the clock behind you. 
"Yes you can. I can't just—"
"Hey, I’m serious,” she groans. "Just because you're that desperate to stay latched onto my tits, doesn't mean I want to miss my exam.”
When you meet her eyes—there’s no real sense of truth or commitment, even after she gives this light tug that barely has any energy behind it. This isn’t fooling anyone. In the blink of an eye, she's under you once again, squirming underneath your lips. "My schedule—mm, no, hey, are you listening?”
"You can't leave me after this. All worked up, I haven't even gotten you off yet." 
"This is entirely on you."
"No, I'm not taking the blame. This is on you and these goddamn perfect tits of yours."
"Sweetie—" she whines, growing less and less inclined to leave the bed when she grabs your wrist. "Sweetie, I swear to fucking god, can't you just keep your dick to yourself until I get back?"
"No, not when you keep moaning so much," you tell her, refusing to relent. "You're more turned on than I am."
There’s this feigned surprise on her face when she hears that, like it’s somehow the worst thing you’ve told her. "Am not. We both know you're a worse liar than I am, and—it's not my fault you were sucking so hard I almost came." 
"What did you expect when you shoved your tits in my face first thing in the morning?"
Karina rolls her eyes, because it's all so ridiculous how she's acting like this is all your fault—when it's exactly what she should expect.
"That doesn't mean you had to spend like a fucking hour sucking them for—let me up, I have to get ready, you goddamn animal." 
"Animal? You could have stopped me anytime. Don’t put this on me."
"Not with that fucking mouth I couldn't. Look, I can take care of you the second I get back, I just need to—"
It's not like Karina doesn't notice your frustration, that adorable pout across your face, looking almost offended that she would try to deny you of anything. But she's having far more trouble resisting, especially when you look so needy and pathetic like this.
“How long do you have? You can't leave without me making you cum."
"Fuck, I don't know, not that long—maybe twenty minutes,” she says, not even sure of the estimate herself. 
"Perfect. That's plenty of time." 
"It's not. I need to shower, get dressed, eat something. Let me go, you crazy fucking perv."
"You don't need to shower, you smell amazing."
Karina scoffs. "You're just used to me like this. Which is why I need a goddamn shower." 
"Then I'll just fuck you in the shower. Save us time," you counter, but all Karina can do is groan, face-palming from how impatient and stubborn you are. 
She pushes herself up on her elbows, shaking her head so dramatically. "Jesus, you're not letting this go, are you? Am I gonna have to tie you up again?"
"Is that a promise?" 
And somehow, you've managed to break through her resolve. Karina can't stop laughing, face in the crook of your neck, giggling so cutely. "You're fucking unbelievable. When was the last time I wasn't late for something?"
"Dunno. Does it matter?"
"Fine. Okay. Fine—I suppose the shower isn't a bad idea. Maybe it'll cool you off a bit."
"Don't count on it."
The two of you hurry into the bathroom—and perhaps a better word would be fumbled, given how reluctant you are to take your hands off her for too long. But once the hot water starts raining down from above, there's no stopping what's about to take place.
You're drawn in by everything you love about Karina, embracing her from behind, and you find yourself staring shamelessly at her beautiful features, dripping wet. She looks utterly gorgeous without even trying, hair matted to her forehead, water running down her body to just accentuate each and every curve.
"Sweetheart—" she starts, interrupted quickly when you pull her close, pressing a kiss against the soft skin of her neck. "A quick fuck. That's it. You don't have permission for anything else." 
You don't answer with anything but your hands on her hips that she rolls against you, letting out a breathy sigh at how your cock nudges between her cheeks while she places her hands against the steamy glass of the shower door. 
Then Karina lets out the prettiest moan when you're back inside her warmth again. 
Your fingers dig into her curvy hips while you pump, and she spreads her legs as the perfect invitation to ease yourself deeper into her heat, walls fluttering against your shaft, tits pressed up against the cold glass.
"God, fuck,” Karina cries out. “That’s it, fucking split me open, fuck me like you were begging a few moments ago.” 
Before you can even meet her demands, she pushes her hips against you to get things moving. And it's always a pleasure being ordered around by her, especially when it means your cock gets to be so impossibly deep, burying every single inch in that smothering heat. 
There's no slow, easy thrusts, no warning before she's rewarded with a quick slam of your hips. Her entire body shudders at the sensation, nails dragging down the slippery glass of the shower wall as she braces herself.
"So—it's all my fault?" you growl between thrusts, hips picking up speed, getting a tighter grasp on her body for some needed leverage that has you wetly slamming right in, making the most of every single inch. 
"Absolutely. Mm, ah, fuck, this is your doing—don't you dare hold back. Keep going, keep fucking going, harder—fuck, do your duty and make me cum on that thick fucking cock." 
Every deep thrust forces her further against the glass while you oblige, tits so helplessly pressed up so deliciously as you thrust like your life depends on it, keeping her pinned underneath, ass rippling as you pump in and out with each harsh movement. The hot water beating down on you only adds to the frantic, lewd sounds of your bodies crashing against one another, wet skin on wet skin, every moan amplified. 
"There, just like that, sweetie. So good, love when you fuck me deep, fucking destroy me," Karina moans out, legs wobbling as they almost buckle from how roughly you plunge into her, limits already being tested. She sounds so beautiful, so blissed out when she claws at the glass, body unable to withstand your punishing thrusts, like there’s nothing left but succumbing to your cock.
"A-almost there, sweetie, oh my god don't fucking stop, fuck!" Karina lets out these careless moans, no regards for how loud she's being. Even the neighbors will hear—and she doesn't even fucking care, as long as you don't stop. She's far, far too lost in this, throwing her head back, screams escalating through the echoing walls of the shower. "Gonna cum, shit, I'm gonna fucking cum, sweetie, fucking make me—"
This sudden vice tightening around you is all you need to ensure Karina gets exactly what she demands as she trembles in your grip, falling apart. Another shriek echoes from her throat, clenching violently when her climax triggers, palms flat against the rattling glass, your hips so frantic as they slam against her, driving a few more quick, deep thrusts for good measure.
You can hear it all—and most importantly feel it, the erratic, uncontrolled way she shudders, the convulsing walls of her warm cunt proof you've done a job well done. So you keep pistoning into her, keep up the brutal pace of your hips, not slowing down or do anything but pound right through this blissful release, 
"God, baby—“ Karina gasps out, weak and breathless, clinging onto the glass to not slump forward, already spent by her release, and yet her body can't even help itself when she grinds back, craving even more. “How, how do you keep doing that, making me cum so hard? Such a good fucking boy, keeping me so satisfied.” 
There’s not much of an answer for that as Karina keeps her body flush against the glass, struggling to recover her breath while you thrust so deep. "But as much as I love your cock in me, I think we're running out of time
” 
"Are we?"
"Yeah, so you better wrap this up and fill me. Right now, grab my fucking tits and empty those balls.” 
You don't have it within you to hesitate, grabbing those heavy breasts, squeezing them tightly. Nothing beats this combination: all that supple flesh in your fingertips while your throbbing cock pummels the deepest depths of her, every inch inside her velvety cunt. Then all that’s left is to fuck her like your life depends on it, not a thought left but drilling with reckless abandon. 
There’s nothing but your hips moving, the harsh slap of flesh, this greedy grope you give her chest like you just can’t get enough—which you can’t. You’ve got her pinned so hard against the shower, holding on to her tits as you just fuck her senseless, completely pounding into her cunt, keeping her stretched, using this perfect body to milk your cock. 
“Rina, god—baby, your pussy, oh, fuck, I can't—I'm gonna cum," you groan, losing all control over yourself, barely able to give any warning. Not that Karina needs it when she can feel you throbbing, how much you’re going to erupt. 
It doesn't take a second longer for Karina to get what she wants.
You fall apart and erupt into her, slamming one more time to bury yourself to the hilt as you empty inside her in thick, heavy bursts, each spurt more dizzying than the last. Karina clenches so harshly when you fill her to the brim, this heavenly squeeze when she greedily takes everything, milking it all out, demanding not a drop gets wasted. Everything leaves your balls in an urgent rush, right into her sopping cunt, sending her right over the edge one last time as she joins you in this blissful release.    
“Filled me up so well, sweetie,” Karina murmurs through the bliss, every violent throb pushing her up against the glass window, pinned and helpless against the rough pounding of your thrusts until your hips decide to falter. “Now that you got everything out of your system, do you think you'll be able to survive the rest of the day?"
You only play with her tits in response, catching your breath as you lean against her body, kissing her shoulders from behind. "Probably not. But I'll manage, somehow. I guess."
She laughs softly at the admission, a quick tilt of her head to kiss you while you reluctantly withdraw your drenched cock , the mess leaking out from her freshly pounded, slick hole. As always, this is your favorite sight—all the white leaking from between her thighs and down to the shower tiles. But you know there's not enough time to appreciate this glorious view, because you'll never hear the end of it if you're responsible for making her late. 
"If you really can't manage, you have all those pictures I’ve sent to tide you over. Jerk off on my panties if you need to, I don’t mind. Whatever helps you get by."
"Have a little more faith in me, would you? I'm not so far gone yet that I can't control myself for a little while. I'll survive."
"Could have fooled me," Karina responds as she exits the steamy shower, stepping onto the cool bathroom tile and reaching for her towel. “But maybe if I’m feeling generous, you’ll get some spicy new photos before I come back. If you behave, that is."
"Don't I always?"
"Hardly, sweetie." Karina wraps her arms around your neck, leaning into you and smiling adoringly. "But that's what I like about you."
"Couldn't live without me, could you?"
"Absolutely not. Or your cock," she teases back at you, giving your hair this playful little tousle while she pulls you in for a deep, lasting kiss. And the way Karina looks in just a towel—well, you try not to think too much about it. 
"Okay, seriously. I need to get going now, or else I really will miss class. But maybe when I'm back—"
"Yeah?"
Karina cups your face and just stares for a moment, in deep thought, contemplating a thousand ideas. "I really am going to ride the fuck out of you. Maybe even tie you up again and make you beg like you never have before.” 
"Can't wait."
"Neither can I, sweetie. See you soon."
2K notes · View notes
misstycloud · 9 months ago
Text
Imagine yandere vampire hunter finding out he married one of the creatures he vowed to destroy. The very monster he dedicated his entire life to kill.
“
no..i-it can’t be..” his voice was barely a whisper, but you heard it loud and clear as if he was right next to you.
You stood still in the darkness, your face was a mask of indifference. If you hadn’t been blinking he would have mistook you for a statue. It appeared you’d been careless and let yourself be seen- by him no less. You could still feel the warmth of the blood dripping down you chin; a curtain of red fell down the front of your dress and stained it.
“Please tell me this isn’t real..” your husband let his eyes wander to the soon-lifeless body laying not far away. Small puffs of air was seen coming for the person, indicating they were not yet dead. The disgusting sound of gurgling in one’s own blood sent a shiver down his spine. His eyes met yours, searching for any sort of confirmation that everything was indeed a figment of his imagination.
“It is, I’m afraid.” You said.
He let out a devestatd choke, muttering ‘no’ over and over while shaking his head, clearly in denial.
You reminded yourself not to show any emotion and stepped forward. “I will not lie to you and therefor I will utter the clear truth in front of you. I am a vampire.”
“No, no you’re not.” He refused to believe it. If it had been his friend; he would prioritise duty before friendship. If it was his brother; he would do the same. Even if it was his own parents; he would die before letting insensible things such as emotions to come in the way of doing what is right. But this was different. It was you. It can’t be you. It could never be you.
But it was. Clearly. The evidence- the body- was right in front of him; unblinking and unmoving.
“You cannot look away from what is in front of you-“
“Stop saying that!” He suddenly shouted, surprising you with the sudden change in tone. “You can’t be one of
.them.” He expressed in great repulsion.
Despite knowing how evil your kind is, you still though of yourself as quite good- well, as good as you can be when you’re a blood sucking, murderous creature of the night. So your husbands disdain awoke some sort of defensiveness in you.
“Well I am. And I have been for a while now.”
He seemed to think for a moment. Then he asked, “how long? How long have you been a
a vampire?” He furrowed his brow at the end, not believing he’d connect ‘you’ and the word ‘vampire’ in his life.
“36 years. Not as long as some others, but it should still count as something.”
“Oh god..”
It meant that you were one since the start- no before- your marriage. Was he truly that blind? Had love taken such hold of him that he could no longer do his job properly?
How many vampires had he killed during you union? All that while simultaneously being wed to one himself. While loving one, caring for one and even making passionate love to one. It was like some fucked-up punishment tailor-made for him.
He knew what he had to do.
The first tear fell down his cheek, betraying his stern expression and showcasing his endless sorrow. “You are evil,” he raised his crossbow, “and now you have to be judged for your crimes.” How ironic of him to talk about committing crimes of slaughter as if he wasn’t doing exactly the same. He wasn’t stupid; not all immortals were pure darkness, it wasn’t that simple. They do what they have to in order to survive. Only some killed more than they had to. Still, it didn’t change the fact that they all need to be destroyed.
Your eyes widened when he pointed the weapon straight at you. You expected this. Of course he would kill you. However, a part of you could not stop from hoping he wouldn’t think of you as a monster. That perhaps you’d finally find somewhere you can call home and be accepted for what you are. It was a naive dream. Weren’t you his wife before you were a monster? Apparently not, because an arrow shot at you at incredible speed. It hit you in the arm and you cried out in pain.
While you had physical advantages, it doesn’t mean you are immune to pain.
Ripping it out, you studied the black liquid staining it. Your husband swore and immediately prepared to launch another. You felt your fangs grow in length and you hissed at him. Throwing yourself at him the two of you rolled around on the floor, each trying to restrain the other. You managed to get ahold of his crossbow and threw it away form his reach.
Your husband quickly dug into his pockets to grab a dagger, and tried to stab you. Luckily you stopped him in time, fighting him with your vampiric strength. You had to give it to him, he was surprisingly strong for a human. Despite you having supernatural gifts, he was definitely a match and you had a hard time holding you down. If it was any other situation you would have been impressed and rather seduced by his sheer strength, unfortunately this was not a good situation for you.
You leaned down, planning to bite him, but his fast reflexes let him use his free arm to keep you at a distance. He was now on the floor with you straddling him and trying with all your might to end his life.
Your husband knocked your heads together which was the distraction he needed to kick you off of him. You clenched you forehead in pain and backed away. But there was no more time to dwell on that pain, because it was minor compared to what you felt next. Agony was in your side, accompanied by the dagger you had previously defended yourself against.
Your lover was close. Enough for you to feel his breath, and enough for you to see tears running down his regretful face.
“Why was it you?”
Whether he referred to you being a vampire or you being the one he married, you did not know. It hardly mattered anyway.
In a way, you did love your husband. It was probably not in the normal spousal way but it was there. Maybe if you weren’t a blood-sucker you two would have been truly happy together. Too bad fate had other plans. Even though it was true that you were probably evil, you wanted to live. And despite the one threatening your existence was none other than the man who’d show a you devotion and love you though t you’d never find again, this was not where you wanted it to end.
With a shriek, you used all your power to push him as hard as you could. He flew backwards into the wall. You supposed he’d fainted from the force since he wasn’t making any move to get up. You clutched your side and groaned. You had to get out of there; somewhere safe.
You stumbled to the window and put your foot on the ledge. The dagger he’d stabbed you with must be silver, otherwise it wouldn’t have made as much damage. The wound in your side burned and sizzled with pain. You had no idea if your body would be able to fully heal you in time for when you need blood again- or even at all.
“Ugh
.”
You heard a cough from behind you. It was your dearest. He must be sturdier than he looks to have woken up so quickly. He had rolled over to lay on his stomach and had his arms pathetically stretched in your direction.
“D-don’t go.”
You scoffed at his audacity. “What, so you can finally finish me off?”
He whimpered, “ N-no, I’m sorry
 I shouldn’t have done that- why did I do that?” The last part appeared to be a criticism on himself. Nevertheless he continued, “please, I won’t do it again. I was wrong, you’re not evil I know that, I don’t know why I said that. I’m so sorry, please..”
A frown adorned your face. “It’s okay. I’m not evil, but I know I’m far from good- I’m not that delusional.” Then you turned back to the view of the outside world.
“Wait, no-“
“I have to go. I really mean it when I say this, ‘thank you for all these years together, they have been the happiest days I am now able to remember’.
“My love, don’t-“
You ignored his pleas as you jumped from the window. You landed in the dirt outside. You looked back at the house which you’d just escaped from and as you prepared to run off to another town and build up a new life (until you’d eventually have to run again) you listened to the scream of the man who’d been your husband for six years.
What was he screaming? What else if not your name.
-
3K notes · View notes
yieldtotemptation · 5 months ago
Text
RITUAL ft. Yujin
yujin x male reader smut
7k words
Tumblr media
Let’s be clear: you’re well aware of what a monumentally stupid idea this is.
For you, it’s just a job. You’ve been fired from plenty before, and there will be plenty more after.
But for her, for Yujin, it’s her career. Her life. Her everything.
And yet, here, in the cramped confines of a bathroom stall, your hand on her ass and hers diving down your jeans; you can’t let go of the nagging suspicion that maybe that’s the fucking point.
“How much time do we have?” Yujin’s lips are on your neck, tiny, hot breaths tickling your skin, nimble fingers at your waist, negotiating with your zipper.
“We had fifteen minutes, an hour ago,” you remind her. “We’re gonna miss soundcheck.”
“It’ll be fine.” Yujin’s unbothered, dismissive of anything that isn’t freeing your cock from its denim prison. “They’ll wait for me. They always do.”
There’s that hint of arrogance, that unshakeable confidence of youth, the invincibility that comes with being that absurdly hot. You can’t blame her at all for it.
What Yujin wants, she gets. You've seen it first hand.
It’s one of the many things you’ve learned about her over the past few weeks.
Well one of the few that don’t concern how good her cunt feels when she rides you, or how her eyes roll to the back of her head when you hit that spot just right, or the way her voice goes hoarse when she screams your name.
“Oh, it’s so perfect.”  Yujin’s seen your cock before, tasted it, taken it, had it in every way possible (in every place available), yet that still doesn’t stop her eyes from lighting up the second she sees it springing out from the waistband of your briefs, standing tall and throbbing painfully. “I’d say this is worth being late for.”
You’ve got a groan for her when she takes you into her hand, her grip firm and familiar. A half-hearted protest, too: “Yeah, but if we’re late, Princess Yujin gets a slap on the wrist, whereas I get fired.”
Yujin scoffs at that. “Well, I am your boss, so I think I get the last say if it comes down to it.”
Part of you wants to correct her, wants to explain that technically you’re not her employee but an independent contractor hired by the touring company. However, that part of you needs to shut the hell up, because the intricacies of employment contracts for musicians-for-hire really don’t seem pertinent at this moment.
Regardless, it all becomes trivial in the face of Yujin. So annoyingly, unfairly pretty, not even the unflattering harshness of the bathroom lights are capable of marring her in the slightest.
You’d probably give her the world if she asked.
She’d happily settle for your dick.
Her hand’s moving now, her fingers dancing around your shaft, exploring the contours of your cock from base to tip, and she's forcing you to resign, “Your logic, as always, is flawless.”
“See?” Yujin smiles up at you, that wide, confident grin that’s graced a million posters, been on every magazine cover and TV channel, and is now laser focused on you. “I’m always right, aren’t I?”
Her point's made with a squeeze around your length, stroking you in earnest, building to a rhythm that’s become so familiar over the past week—quick and precise, dangerously efficient. Like she was made for this. Made to tease your cock. As natural for her as breathing, really.
Yujin’s had plenty of practice, after all—on the morning of every concert, in the evening back at her hotel, on tour buses and in dressing rooms. On a plane once, even. It's the same torrid routine that’s now become a required pre-show ritual. A quiet spot, a secluded room, and she steals you away, bringing you to the brink and back.
And to think it all started because she asked you to help her ‘calm her nerves’.  
Or more correctly, fuck all the worries and concerns out of her pretty little head.
Still, she's never pushed it this far, never cut it this close.
You lean back against the stall door, your breath catching in your throat, the cheap plastic giving slightly under the pressure. Outside you can hear it, hear the bustling sounds of the venue coming to life—staff moving about, the distant roar of fans, the occasional clang of sound equipment. But in here, it’s overpowered by the noisiness of her palm sliding along your shaft, slick with her saliva, and it fills the small space, echoing across the cold tiles beneath your feet.
She’s undeniable—you know you’ve spoilt her. You’ve let her get her way with you far too many times, let her push this arrangement past any semblance of professionalism. Let her poison your mind with whispered sweet nothings that have you pounding her into the nearest available surface whenever she gets a twitch of stage fright.
But you’re also acutely aware of the fact that without these moments, without the promise of her tight, wet cunt wrapped around your cock, you’d be out there on that stage sleepwalking through just another concert with nothing but a drum kit and a bunch of songs you could play with your eyes closed.
“Fucking hell, Yujin, you look too good doing that,” you manage to get out, doing your best to endure her fingers gliding along your length, to last under the microscope of Yujin's dark, hungry eyes.
Another thing about Yujin: there's a special thrill she gets just from watching you, eyes glued to your face, taking in every single nuance of agony she’s wringing out.
“So fucking—” you settle on the most obvious word in your lexicon, “pretty.”
Yujin keens at the praise, her cheeks flush a deeper shade of pink, her teeth grazes the soft skin of her bottom lip. It's hardly new for her to hear this, to have people rave about how she's the hottest piece of ass this side of the equator. Yet there's something about hearing it from you that has her eating up your words every time. "Am I, now?"
You nod, voice momentarily failing you as she pumps your cock, her grip never wavering, never faltering, like she’s milking you, milking words of adulation from your lips.
You still haven't pinned down exactly what it is about you that unwinds Yujin, that makes her chase you so hard. Maybe it's because you're slightly older, a touch more mature than the usual plastic smiles that try to charm her out of her pants.
Or maybe it's because you said 'no' the first time she sniffed in your direction, and then made her scream 'yes' every time after.
Whatever it is, it has Yujin’s other hand reaching up to fiddle with the choker at her neck, flooding your mind with memories of your hand around her throat, her gagging on your length, her eyes watering while you fuck her face.
“And what about this outfit?” She asks, oh-so-innocently. “You think the fans will like it?”
“Yujin,” you say, like she doesn’t already know the very obvious answer. You’ve seen her in it all—tiny hot pants, tight little bralettes, that fucking leather catsuit. Yujin’s a fucking goddess in anything she wears, even a blind man would burn from the sheer heat radiating from her body. “You look fucking incredible, as always.”
“But?”
“No buts.”
“I heard a ‘but’,” Yujin ponders, her hand still working your cock like it’s her favourite toy. “Like: ‘but the shorts are too short, and everyone’s gonna see my cheeks when I bend over’.”
A blatant invitation to take a glance, to look down, down at those denim shorts so tight against her curves, the fabric stretched so taut that it might split open at any moment. Look down at her thick thighs, the way they flex and release as she jerks you off, every movement making the material cling tighter to her skin, moulding themselves around the outline of her perfect, round ass, those juicy cheeks that you’ve had the honour of spanking and biting and bruising.
“Or is it: ‘but your top is cut too low, your tits are gonna spill right out’?”
She’s drawing your gaze upwards, over that smooth, creamy expanse of skin, her stomach flat and toned, up the thin fabric of her flimsy excuse for a shirt, that dips just enough to tease the tops of her breasts, squeezed together and pushed up by her bra. It's so thin, wrapped so tight around her, highlighting the faint outline of her nipples poking through, already stiffened and calling for your tongue.
“Or maybe it’s: ‘the outfit looks good, looks nice and slutty, but you’d much rather rip it off me and just fucking ruin me like I deserve?'"
Yeah, that’s more like it.
You take that as permission, and reach for the hem of her top, eager to finally see those tits, to feel their warm weight in your palms, to have her stripped and laid bare like she knows you’d love to. But Yujin’s too quick, slapping your hand away with a laugh.
“But unfortunately, there’ll be none of that, drummer boy.” Yujin stops, her grip on your cock tightening for a brief, painful second. “Can’t have you ruining my outfit before I go on stage, can I?”
There’s a challenge there, a test to see if you’ll argue, maybe grab her, throw her against the wall and show her just how little of a fuck you give about anything that takes place outside of this toilet stall. But you know she’s right. You're the adult here, remember? Besides there’ll be plenty of time for that later.
You settle for her lips, leaning down, pressing the pad of your thumb against her chin. You tilt her head up towards yours, only for Yujin to pull back, leaving you kissing air. “Seriously?”
Yujin grins, clearly delighting in denying you again, in making your blood boil and cock throb. “Can’t ruin the make-up either,” she explains, making sure to bat her long, fake lashes for extra effect.
“So, I take it that means the pigtails are off limits too?” You ask, idly toying with the ludicrously slutty hairstyle that’s framing her face, bobbing slightly with every stroke she gives you.
“Now you’re learning.”
So, with a frustrated grunt, you keep your hands at your sides, resigning yourself to Yujin’s sweet torture. It’s maddening, just standing there, panting and so horny, at the mercy of Yujin’s slow strokes. “And no concern for my outfit, whatsoever.”
Yujin’s eyes wander over your choice of clothing, and laughs, rather insultingly, if you're honest. “I’m sure all the fans will be very focused on the drummer’s fashion choices,” she says, trusting you to pick up on the sarcasm.
You feign injury. “Ouch, I put a lot of thought into my clothing.”
“Sure you do. Thoughts like: how easy will it be for your little fuck buddy to tear them off?” Yujin’s thumb finds that sensitive spot just beneath the head of your cock, swiping over it with a smugness that’s both infuriating and incredibly hot.
“You’re going to get it later for that one,” you warn, your hand curling into a fist.
“Oh, I know.”
Yujin picks up the pace, her hand a blur, running up and down your shaft, fingers sliding across your slit, smearing the pre-cum that’s beaded there over your cockhead. And there’s a glint in her eye, that needy look that tells you she’s getting off on this, getting off on having you, having someone she shouldn’t be left alone with, squirm and beg and be so desperate for her.
“Look how big you are for me, daddy.”
There’s that word, that sweet, sweet ‘daddy’.
The first time she called you it was an accident, a slip of the tongue during a particularly intense moment when you had her against the window of her hotel, tits squashed against the glass, cunt dripping with your cum. But every time since, it’s been deliberate, calculated, a button she knows she can push to make you give it to her as rough as she wants; as rough as she craves.
“Look how big you are in my tiny hand.” She’s got you moaning now, melting between her fingers, bucking your hips for that extra bit of friction. “You love it when I jerk you like this, don’t you, daddy?”
‘Daddy’ again, rolling off her tongue like a fucking love letter, a song to send your head spinning and your cock pulsing in her hand.
There’s another challenge, can you last a little bit longer? Can you resist the urge to cum all over her fingers? Paint her pretty nails a fresh shade of white? Or would you rather wrap your hand around her lovely neck and force her to admit that she loves all this just as much as you do.
You swallow down the groan that’s building in your throat, your teeth grinding together to maintain some semblance of control. Yujin catches it, sees the effort it’s taking you, and she shakes her head, her lips pursed in a perfect little pout.
“Don’t hold back, daddy,” Yujin's chiding you, disappointed with your restraint. “I want to hear it. I need to hear how good it feels, how desperate you are. Need you to show me just how much you want to see me filled with your cum.”
She twists her hand down on your cock, squeezing when she reaches the base, her other hand coming down to cup your balls, tickling them with her fingers. That has a moan escaping your lips, a low, desperate sound that makes Yujin preen.
“That’s it,” she’s overjoyed, getting what she came for, basking in your pleasure, “tell me how much you want it, tell me how much you want to cum for me.”
And so you do. You tell her, your voice strained with the effort of keeping your orgasm at bay. Not yet, not until you’re deep inside her, not until you're sure that not a single drop will go wasted. “You're too fucking much, Yujin, too fucking hot,” you manage, the words a choked noise that you hope she can hear over the blood pounding in your ears. “You’re driving me fucking mad.”
Yujin’s strokes keep building, one on top of the other, and she’s pressing herself against you, the warmth of her, soft breasts pushing into your chest, her lips sucking at your neck, kissing into you hard. After all, who will notice? Who gives a fuck if the drummer shows up on stage with a few extra bruises on his skin?  
You fall into the crook of her neck, your forehead on her shoulder, as her lips make their way up your throat, across your jaw, until she’s nipping at your lobe, whispering in your ear, “You’re desperate for my cunt, aren’t you, daddy? You want to fill me up right before I go on stage?”
“Yujin,” you grit out, and you’re holding her, hands on those perfectly round cheeks, holding on for dear life, pulling her close to you so that she can feel just how right she is. The words spill out of you like a confession, “I need to fuck you now, Yujin. I need to feel your cunt, make you cum so hard you won’t be able to fucking move, let alone dance.”
And Yujin leaves one last, lingering kiss on your pulse. “So do it, daddy.”
Her words are a fucking gunshot, and you’re off to the races.
You spin her around so fast she yelps, your chest to her back, your cock trapped between her ass cheeks. Her shorts are barely an inconvenience, yank them down, denim catching on her hips, sliding down to her ankles, leaving her in just her panties.
Yujin gasps, the cool air meeting her bare skin, and she braces herself against the wall of the stall, needing something to keep her on her feet. She’s all soft curves and sweet smells, so insanely proportioned, like she's built for this, curvy and thick in all the right places.
While she’s distracted you sneak a kiss onto the creamy-white skin of her shoulder, hard enough to give her a mark to match yours, a badge of honour that brands her in the same way she’s done to you.
Her panties never stood a chance, completely drenched to the point of ruin, sticky with anticipation, snug against her lips. You pull them aside, thumb brushing against her swollen clit, making her hips jerk forward. She’s on your time now, you’ve got the green light to turn the tables and drag her through the same torment she’s put you through.
“Look at this,” you’re in her ear now, taunting, “you’re already so fucking wet for me.”
Yujin’s cheeks burn red, and she’s pushing back against you, grinding her ass into your cock. “Of course I am. I can’t help it,” she’s a little breathless, a little shaky, “I need it.”
“You’re so beautiful,” your hands like magnets on her bare ass, squeezing, marking her in places only you'll ever know. “So fucking beautiful.”
“Please,” Yujin whimpers, as you slide your finger down, between her legs, tracing her wet slit, testing her tightness, feeling her warmth, feeling how ready she is. “Please, fuck me now.”
You can’t resist her, you never can, not with so little time left and so much of her to ruin. Your cock dips, lining up with her pussy, the tip nudging at her entrance, and all it takes is one strong thrust, and you’re pushing into her, burying yourself to the hilt in a swift, brutal motion.
There’s a scream from her, a grunt from you, blending and echoing through the bathroom, bouncing off the tiles and the stall walls. Someone’s going to hear it, someone’s going to come in and see you fucking the star of the show and that’ll be it for the both of you.
But really, fuck all of that.
Fuck the concert, the venue staff, the fans, the tour managers, the PR nightmare that will follow.
Fuck everything that isn’t inside this stall, that isn’t Yujin’s tight cunt squeezing around your cock, that isn’t the way she’s shuddering in your arms, gasping your name, needing her daddy to fuck her harder, faster.
There's no easing her into it, not like you know you should. You fuck her hard, just like she’s begged. Your hips snap against her ass, the sound of skin slapping skin drowning out the noise outside, again and again, in and out, over and over.
Yujin’s never needed much to get started, always so easily soaked, so easily ready. She'd told you as much one late night (or one early morning): "I can take it, take anything, as long as it's coming from you. "
Her walls clamp down around you, she’s already pulsing, her cunt desperate to wring you dry. You’re gliding in and out of her, using her, letting her mold herself so perfectly around you, her juices coating your cock, making it slicker with every thrust.
“Yes—that’s what I fucking need.” Yujin cries out, her voice high-pitched, her head thrown back, and the flimsy plastic isn’t enough anymore, she needs you to hold her steady, to dig your fingers into her hips and nail her into the wall.
Each stroke, each thrust into her cunt, each time you fill her, stretch her—each one could be the last one, the one that has you exploding inside her. Could be the one that overwhelms you, the one that makes you forget where you are, that there’s anything that exists besides fucking this needy, little brat.
It’s the way Yujin clenches around you, tight and perfect, like she’s made just for you, like she’s never been fucked this way before, will never be again.
(Even though you have. Even though you will.)
Each time is like the first, you’re discovering her all over again, peeling back layers of this beautiful, untouchable idol, and finding something new, something beneath the sheen of purity and perfection. Something that makes you want to ruin her, bring her down to your level, to roll around the filth with the rest of you mere mortals.
And Yujin knows it.
There’s a need to make her feel it, and there’s her fucking pigtails, dangling in front of you like a carrot, flicking up and down in front of your face with every thrust. You need to grab them, to yank her back onto your cock, to force her to take it as hard as you want to give it. It’s almost too much to resist.
But even in your haze you know better. Instead, you settle for that choker on her neck, your thumb sliding under the black leather band, feeling the pulse of her blood racing beneath her skin. You grip it, tight, but not too tight. Just enough to make her gasp, to make her cunt tighten, to make her cry out—
“Gah—God—fuck—”
Strangled cries have her screaming, have her needing you to go deeper.
“Fuh—fuck—yes—right there—right—fucking—there—”
She’s chanting, almost sobbing, doing her best to take everything you’re giving her, everything she’s needs, everything she deserves. You’re tapping into that deep, dark desire within her. The one that gets off on being treated rough, the one that loves having a daddy, the one that needs to be nailed to a wall and reduced to nothing but a shaking, mewling mess of climaxes.
You dare to snake a hand under her top, you’re not going to mess her outfit, but that doesn’t mean you can’t get a taste of what’s underneath. Your fingers stretch under her bra, testing the elasticity of the cotton, before finally finding the swell of her breasts, cupping it, filling your hand with it.
Yujin’s moan is all the encouragement you need, a wordless permit to squeeze, to pinch her nipple, roll it between your thumb and forefinger until it’s a hard little nub.
“Oh fuck yes—touch me. You love touching me, don’t you?” She's feeling it, really feeling you, the stimulation of your palm on her breast, the sting on her nipples. “You fucking love my body.”
It’s the damn truth—these past weeks have been a crash course in Yujin, and you haven’t found an inch you didn’t immediately fall in love with. Every curve and dip and line, every soft place and every sharp edge; the weight of her in your arms, the way she fits against you, how she responds to your touch like she’s been waiting for it, for you, for fucking ever.
“Fuck, yes, just like that, daddy, just like that.”
“You’re so fucking perfect, Yujin. So tight, so wet, so fucking mine.”
You slur words into her, words that make her shiver, make her tremble against you, make her so fucking happy to hear them. It’s the words that she loves, hearing you talk like that, like she’s the only one who can make you feel this way. And maybe she is.
So you keep talking, keep whispering those loving, filthy soliloquies into her ear, keep telling her how good her cunt is, how desperate you are for her body, how much cum you have to give her. And her body has an answer for you each time, each syllable a caress that sends shivers down her spine.
“Fuck, you’re so beautiful, Yujin. So beautiful when you’re like this, when you’re all mine.” You can feel it boiling up inside you, that pressure building with every smack of your hips against her ass. “I’m going to cum so hard for you, princess.”
There’s the guitar, the bass, the keys, the band tuning up outside, noise filtering into the stall, faint but unmistakeable, the only thing missing is the beat of the drums, the only thing missing is you.
Yujin’s grinning, knowing she’s the one keeping you occupied, knowing it’s her cunt that you’re buried in, that’s not letting you go.
“If only they knew,” she’s giggling like a schoolgirl (she might as well be with those pigtails), “if only they know how good you’re fucking me right now. They won’t have a fucking clue, will they?”
“Such a fucking tease, Yujin.”
She looks over her shoulder at you, and sends a coy, “Who, me?”
“Yes, you, you little slut,” you answer, not bothering to mince your words. Your hand tightens around her choker, not enough to cut off her air, just enough to keep her right there, panting and needy and yours. “You know exactly what you’re doing out there. I see how you dance, how you move. Like you’re forcing them to picture you fucking, making them all want a taste of what they’ll never have.”
The truth makes her shiver against you. “They all wish they could do this to me, all wish they could fuck me and fill me like you are.”
There’s a tension building inside her too, the blend of your words and the reality of the performance she’s going to have to put on afterwards. It has her body tightening like a bow string, ready to snap at any moment.
And you’re going to be the one to release it.
You venture a hand downwards, gracing over her stomach, her belly button, until you reach the wetness of her pussy. There's her clit, ripe for teasing.
You fuck your cock in deeper still, matching the swirl of your finger with the pounding of her cunt, timing it just right to make her leak all over you.
“That feels so—fuck,” Yujin purrs, so, so blissful. “Only you—only you, daddy. No one else will get to have me—fuck—fuck me like this.”
“Whenever I want, any time I want,” you’re telling her, promising her, even though it’s more likely to be the opposite. That it’s Yujin that will seek you out on those lonely nights and those quiet mornings, or just whenever she’s bored and needs someone to fuck all the nerves and stress out of her system.
“They’d be so—gah—so jealous if they knew. I see it when they look at me—how much they want me,” she’s straining to say it, but needs you to hear it, needs you to know it. “I see it—read it in places they think I don’t look.”
She’s lost, lost in a sea of her own musings, thoughts of how everyone with a working pair of eyeballs wants to fuck her. Relishing in the knowledge that she's found the only person that can fuck her right, and that their cock is buried in her cunt, their fingers working her clit.
“They call me a slut, a whore, but that’s not true, is it, daddy? I only fuck you,” Yujin repeats, “I’m only a slut for you.”
There’s an edge to her voice, a raw, animalistic need that makes you want to prove her right. Want to erupt inside her so badly that she’s forced to carry a part of you inside her when she’s on stage.
“Yours to use,” Yujin taunts. “To fuck, to fill...”
Jesus.
“To break.”
Fucking.
“Maybe I should let you rip off my clothes, fuck up my hair—fuck—my makeup. Go out on stage with all the marks you’ve left on me, with all your cum—gah—all over me.”
Christ.
It hits you like a sledgehammer, adding another layer of taboo to this already fucked up situation. The thought of it is fucking wild, ridiculous to contemplate, you’re sure it’s all just part of the game, another button Yujin’s pressing for her own thrill
 right?
“Then everyone would know—everyone would know that it’s you—that you’re the one that’s fucking my brains out when no one else is watching.”
You’re all over her and deep inside her, lips on her throat, her jaw, hands at her tits, her cunt. Devouring her, all of her, from those tightly binded pigtails all the way down to her carefully manicured toes.
And then she stops dancing around the subject and demands it.
“Ruin me. Fuck me, please, daddy. Just—kiss me, now.”
“You said—”
But Yujin’s already twisting around at her waist, angling her body so she can seize your lips, smear her lipstick across your teeth, flood your mouth with her tongue. She’s got fistfuls of your shirt, pulling you closer, as if she’s trying to claim you, claim every inch of you as property of An Yujin.
Now that you’ve got permission, you thread your fingers into her hair, gripping tight, pulling her by the pigtails like you’ve been dying to, kissing her like your life depends on it.
You’re getting rougher with her now, tugging her head back, peeling her lips away from yours, sliding your cock out of her. You ignore the whine, ignore the tears. It’s game over for her makeup, for her hair, her outfit. She’s a beautiful, chaotic mess—so shamelessly yours, so perfect in every way.
The separation barely lasts a second, you’re lifting her up, turning her and depositing her atop the toilet seat, spreading her legs wide, putting her on display.
This is the real show—Yujin looking up at you, eyes dark with need, tits out and heaving with every breath; thick, toned thighs glistening with her juices, your precum; and her pussy, all puffy and so ready to be filled again.
“Daddy—” Yujin starts, and ends, as you’re inside her again. Inside her tight, welcoming cunt, her back arching off the cold porcelain, her legs wrapping around you, ankles crossing and locking in place.
Just one hard thrust and you see it—it's in the watering of her eyes, the wobble of her lips.
She’s close, and you’re not far behind.
“Please.”
It’s barely a whisper, nearly lost somewhere between your haggard breaths and the sloppy wet sounds of your bodies colliding.
But you hear it, and it’s all you need.
It’s her pigtails in your hands again, strands wrapped around your fist, and you’re taking a front row seat in the spectacle that is Yujin falling apart.
“Please, fuck me.” There it is again, louder now. “Fuck my tiny little pussy, daddy. Make me yours.”
It’s every single sound out of her mouth, every folding and crumpling of her perfect features, every single drop of sweat sliding down her neck, every time she says fuck me, or break me, or over and over again—make me yours.
You want to savour this, burn this image into your mind, live off the memory of Yujin’s cunt pulsing around you, but there’s no time, no time to do anything but kiss her again; clumsy, hungry, wet, open-mouthed kisses.
“Please,” she’s biting into your lip, licking into your mouth, clawing at your shoulders, “say my name.”
“Yujin,” you give it to her, offer her name like a sacrifice. “Yujin, I’m so fucking close.”
The porcelain is doing its best to bear your weight, to survive the punishment you’re hammering into Yujin’s tight, perfect body, to outlast your relentless fucking. “Cum for me daddy, cum for me.”
But it’s her, it’s Yujin that crosses that threshold first, coming apart until she’s nothing but a mess of whimpers, moans, and cries of your name. Of pleases and thank yous, until she’s just a hot, tight cunt getting used for your pleasure.
“Fuck—fuck—I’m cumming—daddy, I can’t—it’s so—”
It’s all there across her face, all in the way she’s shaking, the way her cunt is gripping you, her walls fluttering around your cock like a fucking heartbeat, tightening and releasing in endless waves that crash down on her.
“So good—you’re so good—you’re so—fuck—fuck—cum—cumming—"
Her entire body seizes, tenses all at once, and you’d be worried if you hadn’t seen it countless times before, if you didn’t know to expect her to lose all control of her limbs, to not be able to do anything but stare at you, all teary eyed and feeling so, so good.
But you keep going, hips pumping, cock driving into her, keeping her steady, helping her climb to her peak, filling her tender, creaming cunt over and over again. You want to make this last, want to keep her like this, unable to think about anything but you, unable to think about anything that isn’t your cock.  
“So fucking good for me, Yujin, so good, princess.”
“God, fuck—daddy!”
It’s the praise that pushes her over, unravels her, has her mouth frozen in the shape of your name, like the idea of you is the only thing keeping her tethered to this world. That, and her nails digging into your skin, adding to the tapestry she’s already engraved on your back.
And then the silence comes, and that’s the real killer.
Yujin’s always loud when she gets fucked, always desperate to tell you how good it feels, needy for you to know how good you are to her. But when she cums—when she loses herself on your cock—it’s like she relinquishes all ability to articulate, to make any sound other than a whine or a gasp.
You know what she wants to say—don’t stop, please, don’t stop—know what she wants to tell you—thank you, daddy, thank you, thank you, thank you—and it’s your responsibility to see her through it, to plunge your cock deep into the smooth, velvety muscles of her cunt, to have her rocking and creaming all over you, again and again and again.
And then she falls apart.
So beautifully, so perfectly.
But you’re not done yet.
Your thrusts come in thick and fast, making the whole stall shudder, making your vision swim. Yujin’s still reeling, snapped back into the land of the living by the force of your fucking.
She’s leaning forward, pressing her forehead to yours, able to form whole words again, whispering something that you can’t quite catch, something sweet and needy and demanding.
“I’m all yours, daddy.”
It’s a trigger she’s been waiting to pull—the moment she says it, you let go.
There’s no holding back anymore, you’ve been fighting it for what feels like hours, trying to keep your shit together, but it’s no use. You’re going to cum, the only question is, where.
You can’t shake the image of her covered with you, painted all over her face, her chin, her neck, her chest, her perfect, perfect tits. You want it, want to see it realised, want to parade her out on that stage looking like a fuck doll—your fuck doll.
But not now, not today.
So instead, you bury yourself inside her, so, so deep. Yujin’s nodding, teasing “deeper, deeper, please,” begging you with her whole body, watching you with those eyes, half-lidded and glazed over, licking at her lips, bracing for you to fill her.
It’s your turn to shake, your turn to let go of that knot in your gut that’s been twisting ever since she dragged you into the bathroom, pushed you into the toilet stall and told you she needed this.
You throb, tighten, the base of your spine tingles, and that’s all the warning you get before you’re cumming, rushing Yujin’s greedy cunt with your hot, sticky load.
“Daddy, daddy—daddy—yes!”
It’s an addiction now, she needs your cum like she needs oxygen, and you need to fill her as if you’ll die if you go another day without pounding her cunt.
“So good, so fucking good inside me—all yours, all yours—"
It’s a thousand blissful little moments stacked on top of each other, her clenching, you throbbing, her grinning, you grimacing, but it all comes together in this heated space that leaves you both boneless, breathless catastrophes.
Yujin’s the first to come down, slumping against you, drooling down your chest, staining your shirt with a sheen of her saliva. Her legs go slack around you, finally letting go of your waist, still shaking in the aftershocks of her orgasm. You can feel your cum leaking from the corners of her cunt, oozing down the inside of her thighs, sliding past her knee, down to her ankles.
A finger under your chin to tilt your head to her, to kiss you. One of those quiet, intimate kisses that will have you spending the night trying to decode its meaning. But, for now, there’s just the salt of her sweat and the sweetness of her lip gloss.
“Thank you, daddy,” Yujin says, so sweetly, so sincerely, and it’s like a knife twisting in your chest.
“Always.”
And slowly, carefully, you’re pulling out of her, even though she’s still clenching, still trying to keep you in. Your cock exits her with an audible slosh, and you need to brace yourself against the stall door, lean into it hard as you take in the sight of Yujin, sprawled on the toilet seat, well fucked and utterly ruined in all the best ways.
She reads your mind, “You really made a fucking mess of me.”
“I only claim fifty percent of that responsibility.”
Yujin pouts, makes sure you’re watching her, and dips her fingers into her defiled cunt. “This is all you, daddy.”
She drags out her digits, holding them up for you, your cum glistening on them like a prize. And then she’s slipping them between her lips, flicking out her tongue to catch a drop that dribbles down her wrist. She licks it all up, slow, savouring it, making sure you’re watching, making sure your eyes are glued to her as she devours the last traces of you from her hand.
That sound she makes, that little “Mmm” of satisfaction has you feeling heady, makes your cock twitch, eager to be back inside her, to fill her right back up so you can watch her do it all over again.
“Cumslut,” is the only word you have her for her, as she slides her fingers in deeper, tickling the back of her own throat like it's the most natural thing to do. Her cheeks hollow out, and after a long, dramatic suck, she pulls her fingers from her lips with a wet pop, all shiny and clean.
She corrects you. “Your cumslut.”
And then a switch is flipped, and she’s putting herself back together.
Yujin’s graceful, at odds with the confines of the cramped bathroom stall she’s just been fucked in. It amazes you every time, the way that she moves. All liquid and soft, as if she’s not really touching anything, as if she’s floating.
She licks droplets of cum off her lips, scoops the remainder up her legs, her thighs, and you’re just staring, gawking at her with something akin to awe, because she’s just so fucking beautiful, so utterly composed, so untouchable.
You help her, you try, help her tug down her shirt, pull up her panties, her shorts, help her slip back into the role of Yujin, the perfect idol, the star that can’t be tarnished by something as dirty as a quickie on top of a toilet seat.
She nods towards the stall door, and you let her past you, help hold her steady as you lead her to the bathroom mirror, give her a chance to assess the damage you've wrought on her. The smudged lipstick, the kiss bruises, the hair sticking to her neck—all evidence of you.
And yet, she smiles, looking back at you over her shoulder. Like she’s got it all under control, like you haven’t ruined her, not really. Not yet.
“Well, that’s something,” she says, her voice a little too breathless for the breeziness she’s aiming for.
But then she’s got her compact out, the tiny bag she's had hidden in her back pocket specifically for occasions like this. You stand back, giving her space to work her magic. Cheeks are patted for colour, lips glossed for plumpness, eyes relined with that dangerously smoky look that makes them pop.
“How do I look?” She turns, looking at you through the mirror, hand on her hip, posing.
“Like you’ve just been fucked in a toilet stall, honestly.”
That makes her laugh. “Good.”
She’s heading to the door, smoothing out her skirt, fixing her top, stopping along the way to give your forearm a quick squeeze.
There’s that look in her eyes again.
One you’ll be revisiting once the show’s over and the doors are closed.
“I’ll take off first,” she says, tying her pigtails back in place. “Wouldn’t want to make it too obvious.”
You catch her hand before she can get away, pulling her face close to you, wiping away a stray bit of cum still shining on her chin. “Good luck out there.”
And there’s that smile. That smile that’s going to make an audience of thousands fall in love with her. That’s going to make you fall in love with her, if you’re not careful. “Don’t need it,” she says, pressing her lips to yours, ruining her lip gloss all over again. “I got you, daddy.”
2K notes · View notes