#feeling feels about tp again..
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a-driftamongopenstars · 1 year ago
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the thing in talos principle where even the god you were always meant to defy became sentient, became *human* the way the AI was meant to be by its creators, and chose such a human thing to say, "I was scared. I wanted to live forever."
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lightningbig · 7 months ago
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sorry twilight princess will always be eating holes in my brain. constantly and forever. I cannot ever be normal about it.
it's such a haunted game. you are a dead thing going through a dead world. you are something in between. you can go back but it will never be the same. you will never be the same. you are walking, constantly, through ghosts of what came before. you are exploring places long forgotten. you are the only one on this path because there is no one else that can walk it. you were just a farm boy. you were in the wrong place at the wrong time. right place at the wrong time? wrong place at the right time? you were just supposed to deliver a sword.
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pinkd3mon · 2 years ago
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Bonus piece from this art
#kirby#kots#kirby of the stars#kirby fanart#hoshi no kirby#Taranza#Galacta Knight#Galacta doesn't know how to go about life without being mysterious#the difference between Galacta and Meta Knight is that Galacta is quiet and mysterious by nature#meta knight does it on purpose to appear cool#Taranza is trying hard not to judge#I think he gave up on trying tp understand#Galacta is mostly quiet but sometimes goes into these monologues while looking at the horizon and Taranza politely listens#Galacta is like 'I've been through so many lifetimes and relived my death time and time again and yet trusting is my demise'#and Taranza is just like 'sure'#Taranza just appreciates the companionship while he's gardening it's like listening to youtube while you draw#you didn't understand half what you just listened to but at last it feels like you're not alone#I'm not sure how to free Galacta Knight in my au yet#but i know they can't fight or they risk to go back to their crystal#that's a rule mentioned in the novels and we don't have tons of those in Kirby canon I'll take what I can get#so instead of fighting they take on gardening isn't that nice#Galacta probably arrived at Dreamland first (Because of course they do) and Dedede doesn't want to deal with them and just sends them away#they probably live temporarily with Kirby because in the novels Kirby actually likes Galacta a lot it's their kin#enough talk about backstory this is supposed to be taken at face value#but Galacta and Kirby would be besties and probably the first person Galacta trusts in basically forever#Galacta would HATE magolor#that's all im going away im so sorry im autistic
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antennatoheaven · 2 years ago
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i feel like being a guy who loves fighting so much while living in a sugar plum soft world gets really boring (outside of the occassional intergalactic threat) if you feel the need to beat up a gorilla 30 fucking times. like what's the deal man? are you getting enough enrichment in your enclosure? do you wish you were in dark souls? could you maybe leave the local wildlife alone for a bit?
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rickybaby · 1 year ago
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Mekies: “On one hand, we have Daniel who brings race winning experience to the team and OUTSTANDING technical capabilities and sensitivities for what the car is doing. You have the incredible energy that he brings to the whole team and it helps all of us to deliver 101%”
Daniel: “I feel good. I feel like it’s early days of my career again. I have that enthusiasm and that real love for the sport again. I just feel like a better version of myself.
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rawliverandgoronspice · 4 months ago
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being a zelinker that enjoys nuance and the pairing not being the sole focus of this series is like being killed by rocks. I can only imagine how it feels like for ganon mains
hahaha well yeah I feel like. I don't mind Zelink at all, especially in certain games, and I love them having this special transcendant bond; but I feel like people who do insist Zelda games are about Zelink and nothing else, and having any other kind of HC about what their relationship means is akin to blasphemy is not that encouraging for creative interpretations overall.
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gwyns · 2 months ago
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gerudospiriit · 2 years ago
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[Distracting rock nipples aside, why didn't we keep giving the Gorons more unique designs. I mean I guess the ones that aren't leaders all look the same so I can't say TOO much, but it feels like TP had more variety among the leaders. Like they all looked so drastically different and interesting and that's cool af.]
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take-ya-to-the-ghey-bar · 9 months ago
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go figure that i'm finally starting to feel more awake now that night time is rolling in lmao-- (tho, eating food a bit ago might've also helped, oop--) even with that tho, not sure that i can currently summon the brain power to write... so~ think i'll just stick to lurking instead, while also probably going off to read for a bit-- u w u
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jupiterpilgrim · 1 month ago
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Sovereign Desires
Wonyoung x Karina x Yuna x Sullyoon x male reader
word count: 15K
commissioned fic
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Boredom doesn't seem to go away in the office. You think that one day you will get used to it, that day never comes. Slumped in your ergonomic chair, pretending to analyze quarterly reports while actually doomscrolling through an endless feed, you would give anything to shake things up in your life right now. Another Tuesday, another slow march towards the sweet release of 5 PM. Then your phone, lying screen-down on the desk amidst coffee rings and scattered pens, buzzes.
You barely register it. Probably just another Slack notification from accounting about the missing TPS reports, or a group chat exploding with irrelevant memes. You sigh, ready to silence it without looking.
But when you flip it over, it's not from accounting.
It's a DM.
There's a name.
And holy shit, not just any name. It's Karina. Yeah, the Karina. From Aespa. Except the contact isn't her stage name. It's the one you punched in years ago, still stubbornly saved under her actual name: Jimin. That old, familiar ache, that weird nostalgic flutter, tightens in your chest. Suddenly, you're not staring at sales projections; you're seventeen again, a sweaty, nervous wreck on some sun-baked summer sidewalk, every fiber of your being screaming just kiss her, you idiot, just do it, while you probably mumble something about the weather.
You blink, hard, because this makes zero sense. You haven't spoken to her for years. And the way it ended… a full-on, no-explanation ghosting after that spectacularly cursed attempt at a hookup. What a fucked day.
It wasn't even like you actually did anything. You didn't even get that far. You’d just managed to get her clothes off, lips still slick from making out, hands trembling as you lifted her onto your lap on that beat-up couch. The second your dick came out, she just… panicked. Froze up like she’d just seen a goddamn monster crawl out of your jeans. She let out this shaky, nervous laugh, mumbled something about a curfew she’d totally forgotten. But you know. Oh, you know exactly what it is. The sheer, improbable size of it. That sick, familiar twist in your gut as you realize it has happened again. You weren't even fully hard yet. Doesn’t matter.
She ran. Bolts like the place is on fire.
You can’t even really blame her (okay, maybe a little). You're always the weird, skinny dude, the one people probably figure is packing an innie until proven otherwise. And Karina (Jimin, back then), she has this effortless cool-girl vibe that just makes your brain short-circuit whenever she so much as glances your way for too longl. You try, so fucking hard, not to fall for her. Fail. Spectacularly. And then that one chance, your one shot to escape the friendzone, gets instantly demoted to a horror story she probably now dishes to her bandmates between grueling dance practices and sold-out stadium shows.
Except… she's actually messaging you. Right now.
hey
it’s been a while huh?
You jolt upright in your chair so fast your colleague in the next cubicle peers over the divider with a raised eyebrow. Her profile pic is pure idol perfection: full glam, hair in those impossibly soft, expensive-looking waves, eyes that are somehow both icy and flirty. This isn't Jimin anymore. This is Karina of Aespa, a literal K-pop goddess. The kind of woman entire nations fantasize about from behind their phone screens, and she’s DMing you, a random office drone, like you’d just casually bumped into her at a 7/11.
i was thinking about you the other day
kinda random but i’d like to catch up
you free this weekend?
No emojis. No awkward apologies or explanations. Just straight to it, like those six years of absolute silence haven't even happened.
Your chest feels tight, but not in a bad way. More like a champagne bottle about to pop. A million questions scream in your head, why now? what the hell is this about? but your thumbs are already a blur across the screen:
yeah
just tell me when and where
The typing bubble appears, blinks, disappears, then reappears. Teasing you. You wonder if she remembers. That night. That… thing about you. She has to. No way she’s forgotten something like that. Maybe she thinks you’ve… grown into it? Learned to manage it better? Maybe she's curious to see.
Then:
okay :)
I’ll send the details soon
looking forward to it
You stare at your phone screen long after her name vanishes, the glow of the monitor reflecting in your wide eyes. The phantom sensation of her weight, her presence, still echoes in your lap like a deeply ingrained muscle memory. The way she has of making any room, any space, subtly bend around her. The way you used to bend around her, orbiting like a damn fool, just waiting for her to look your way and actually mean it.
And now, impossibly, she's looking again.
The address pops up just after noon, no preamble. Just a pin-drop in Gangnam with a bar name you don’t recognize (some sleek little English mashup that screams exclusivity), the kind of place influencers pretend to discover and rich people keep quiet about. You Google it anyway. The front’s barely labeled, no neon sign, just this faint etched logo over heavy black glass doors, like you’re supposed to already know where it is. One of those underground cocktail lounges, dim and expensive and deliberately vague.
Of course she’d pick somewhere like this.
You get there ten minutes early, which feels both desperate and practical. The room’s all moody lighting and brass. Like stepping into a perfume ad: everything smells expensive. Candles flicker in tiny glass jars at each low table, and there’s jazz playing, soft but rhythmic. You start scanning the booths, heart ticking like a countdown, nervous in a way that feels kind of humiliating. You're not in high school anymore.
But then you see her.
She's in a corner booth, half-shadowed by one of those gold-bar dividers. Hair down, silky black and parted to the side, soft curls kissing her collarbones. She's dressed like she knew exactly how this would go: long-legged, crossed at the knee, thighs poured into a leather mini-skirt that barely creases when she moves. A sheer black blouse with little sparkly threadwork running through it like constellations, the fabric so thin it flirts with the curves of her bra underneath. Not scandalous. Not vulgar. Just perfectly engineered to hold your gaze. One hand’s around her drink, some golden thing in a faceted crystal glass, and the other’s thumbing her phone like she’s half-focused, tapping fast. She looks up just once—sees you.
Smiles.
“Wow,” she says as you approach, rising halfway, fingers brushing your wrist as she gestures for you to sit across from her. “You really came.”
“Of course I did,” you say, but your voice is almost inaudible. You clear your throat and try again. “Jimin.”
Her eyes widen just slightly. The smile twitches. Not fake, just surprised. “Haven’t heard that in a while.”
“Still your name, right?”
“It is,” she says, sitting back down, crossing her legs the other way, and you catch the flash of glossy black boots under the table, knee-high, sharp-heeled, definitely not made for walking. “Only a few people still get to use it though.”
You slide into the seat across from her, still trying not to stare, but fuck it’s hard. She’s… glowy. Confident in a way that makes you feel like you’re dressed wrong even though you picked this outfit twice and stood in the mirror trying poses before heading out. She doesn’t need to try, doesn’t need to check the mirror; she knows what she’s doing. Every part of her outfit, her body language, the tone of her laughter, it’s all loaded like performance, but smoother. Natural. She's grown into it. Into this idol thing.
You’re still staring when she lifts her glass toward you.
“Drink?” she offers. “First one’s on me.”
“You paying?” you ask, raising a brow.
“For sure,” she says, grinning. “This idol thing pays well.”
A waiter materializes like magic. She orders another of whatever she’s having, something citrusy with gin, you catch the word yuzu, and you mutter your preference like it matters. It’s one of those bars where they probably judge you for ordering a beer.
“Damn,” you say after a beat, glancing at her with a crooked smile. “So this is your idea of casual now?”
She shrugs, sips. “This is how I dress when I want someone to look at me.”
You swallow hard. “It’s working.”
There’s a beat. A silence that stretches long enough for your drink to arrive. Her eyes never leave yours.
“You’re still such a flirt,” she says, amused. “But you’ve mellowed out. You used to be way more nervous.”
“Oh, I’m absolutely panicking inside,” you admit, taking a sip that burns and soothes at the same time. “I just got better at hiding it.”
She laughs, and the sound is all warm honey. It hits some buried part of you, it fucks with you.
“So how’ve you been?” she asks, smoothing a hand over her thigh. “Besides taller, obviously.”
You snort. “You’re still taller than me.”
“By this much,” she says, holding two fingers apart. “And the boots.”
“Even without the boots.”
“Some things don’t change.”
You both sip. And then the reminiscing begins. You start talking about school, about mutual friends, about the time you both got high and watched bad dramas all night, quoting lines and making each other laugh so hard she snorted kimchi soup out of her nose. She acts scandalized when you bring that up.
“I told you never to mention that again,” she groans, burying her face in her hand.
“And yet here we are.”
“Blackmail. That’s what this is.”
The drinks keep coming. You’re halfway through your third when you notice she keeps checking her phone. Quick glances. A tap here and there. She’s not scrolling for fun, no, it’s deliberate. Controlled. You figure it must be work. Maybe her manager checking in. Maybe something about her schedule. It doesn’t seem suspicious at first. You’re too busy watching the way her lips wrap around her straw, how her hand drapes over the rim of her glass, fingers tapping idly. You wonder how many guys have sat across from her like this, thinking maybe this time I get to take her home.
You’re not even sure what this is. Is it a catch-up? A date? Just nostalgia? But she invited you. She dressed like this. She's been holding eye contact like it’s a game. You’re buzzed now, not sloppy, just loose enough to lean in, resting your chin on your hand.
“You remember,” you say softly, “That time you were at my house and we kissed?”
Jimin looks up. Caught off guard. But not embarrassed. Her smile is smaller this time. Realer.
“Of course I do,” she murmurs. “You tasted like lemon soda.”
“You ran. You ran before we could... You know.”
“I had a panic attack,” she says, surprisingly blunt. “Didn’t even realize it until I was halfway down the street. I thought it was… I don’t know. Too much.”
“Was it because of me?”
She’s quiet. Her eyes dip to her drink. Then her phone buzzes again. She glances at it. This time her face changes (just a flicker). A subtle switch behind her eyes. Something has clicked.
“No,” she says finally, meeting your gaze again. “It wasn’t you. Not really. And I really, really want to redeem myself with you.”
But she doesn’t explain. Just downs the rest of her drink in one go and flags the waiter for another.
You mean to press more. To ask what that meant. But before you can, her phone buzzes one more time. She doesn’t check it. Just flips it over, screen-down. And leans forward with a little smile, as if she’s about to say something intimate, something she’s been holding in for a while. Her fingers trail along the rim of your glass, close but not quite touching yours.
Then she says: “Hey. You trust me, right?”
You say it without hesitation. Maybe it's the alcohol humming in your bloodstream or the way she's looking at you; clear, serious, a softness in her expression that strips away the glamor and shows just a little of the girl you remember. “Yeah,” you murmur, letting the word settle in your throat, simple and solid. “I trust you.”
That’s all she needs. Her eyes flicker like she’s confirming something to herself, then her fingers swipe across her phone, firing off a text with no explanation. You catch the little smirk at the corner of her lips, not playful, not cruel… something more satisfied. Purposeful. She slides her phone back into her clutch and stands, straightening the hem of her skirt. Her legs look even longer when she moves. The heel of her boot clicks once on the floor.
“Come on,” she says, brushing a hand lightly over your shoulder as she walks past you. “There’s a car waiting.”
You follow, blinking through the slow haze of three drinks and a thousand unspoken thoughts. Outside, it’s colder than you expect, the air sharp against your cheeks, but the car is there, sleek and black, window-tinted with the kind of purr you associate with rich people and K-drama antagonists. The driver doesn’t ask your name. Just opens the door.
You slide in after her, trying not to let your thigh brush hers too hard even though she’s made no effort to keep distance. Inside the car, the seats smell like leather and faint perfume. Karina settles in beside you, adjusting the strap of her bag, checking her lipstick in the reflection of her phone screen. She catches you looking.
“What?” she asks, amusement in her tone, head tilting.
“Where are we going?”
She leans back, one knee brushing yours, fingers sliding into her hair like she’s trying to undo the tension at her scalp. “To an apartment. Somewhere we can actually talk without everyone staring. Somewhere more comfortable.”
“Is it yours?”
She shrugs, teasing. “Partially.”
“Must be nice.”
“You’ve got no idea,” she grins, and then something flickers behind her eyes again, calmer now, more vulnerable. “I meant what I said back there. About redeeming myself.”
You glance at her. Her knees are still crossed, hands folded loosely in her lap. She’s not fidgeting. She looks totally in control. But her voice is quieter now, measured.
“I really fucked up back then,” she says. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. But I know I did. You probably felt… rejected.”
You hesitate. Then nod. “Yeah. I did.”
She turns slightly toward you, just enough to face you head-on. “And I get it now. It wasn’t just me walking out—it was me making you feel like something was wrong with you. Like you were some freak.”
You don’t say anything. The car’s too quiet. The engine hums beneath you, smooth, and the city lights flicker through tinted windows. You focus on her words, the precision of them, the way she’s not sugarcoating any of it.
“I used to think everything had to be this perfect fantasy,” she continues. “And I wasn’t ready for something real. I wasn’t ready for… you.”
You exhale slowly. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“Okay,” she says, "but I still want to make it right.”
The rest of the ride passes in that charged silence, the kind that isn't awkward but thick with implication, like something's about to tip. You’re not entirely sure what you expected when she messaged you, but this? This is surreal. You're tipsy and hot under your collar, knees bouncing slightly, wondering if you should be nervous, or excited, or both.
You settle on both.
The car slows in front of a tall, anonymous building with glass that reflects too cleanly to be anything short of expensive. A valet greets her with a nod. You follow her inside, past a lobby that smells like orchids and designer soap. The elevator is silent, smooth, rising so fast it barely registers.
When the doors open, she leads you into an apartment that looks more like a photoshoot set than somewhere someone actually lives. Polished hardwood floors, ambient recessed lighting, modern furniture in sharp angles and plush velvet textures. There’s a huge floor-to-ceiling window spilling moonlight across the living room, and a minibar tucked beside a long black couch. She moves through it like she’s done this a hundred times before.
“Make yourself comfortable,” she says, stepping behind the bar and reaching for bottles you can’t even pronounce. “Shoes off, if you want. The floor’s heated.”
You toe your sneakers off and sink into the couch, running your hand over the fabric absently. Your head's spinning a little now, and it’s not just the alcohol. It’s her. It’s the fact that she brought you here, into this private space, dressed like a fantasy and saying everything anyone would like to hear. The lines are blurred and blurring further.
She turns back with one glass, something crystalline and amber glowing under the lights. She hands one to you with a smile.
“What is it?” you ask, sniffing it. It smells like honey and something herbal.
“Something special,” she says, settling beside you on the couch. ���It’s got a little kick. But it’ll help you… relax. Feel good. Get in the mood.”
You blink. “Get in the mood?”
Her smile doesn’t falter. “For tonight. For me. Just drink.”
You hesitate, but only for a second. You're already floating. Her thigh is pressed to yours now, warm through the thin fabric of your pants. You take a sip. It's smoother than expected, sweet at first, then biting, like cinnamon chased with a punch of something foreign. Your body responds immediately, heat blooming in your chest, your arms, your thighs.
“Strong,” you say, wincing as you go for a second sip.
“Mmhm,” she hums. “But you’ll feel amazing.”
Your skin starts to prickle, not uncomfortably. Just... heightened. Like everything is vibrating a little faster than it should. Your fingers twitch. You glance at her. Her pupils are wide, lips parted just slightly as she watches you drink.
You set the glass down, heart beating a little too fast now. “What’s in it?”
“Something that’s gonna make tonight unforgettable,” she murmurs, leaning in to brush her lips just below your jaw. Not a kiss, just a graze. “And I’ve got a surprise.”
Your pulse thumps. “Another one?”
She stands again, smooth and sudden, stepping across the room and pulling her phone from her clutch. She types something. A long message. Sends it.
Then she turns to face you again, hair tumbling over her shoulder, eyes dark and gleaming.
“They’re almost here,” she says.
You blink. “They?”
Karina approaches you again and sits on your lap, settling her weight fully onto your thighs. It's instant fire. Her warmth seeps through your pants, directly against the hardness already straining there, a painful, thrilling pressure. Her hands find your shoulders, fingers digging in just slightly, claiming the space.
"So," she starts, leaning closer, her breath ghosting over your ear. "About... that night. My little freakout."
You swallow, eyes locked on the curve of her neck, the faint pulse beating there.
"You're not the only one who knows about... well. Your impressive little toy downstairs."
A blush creeps up your neck. Toy? Little? It feels anything but little right now, jammed against her ass.
"W-what? Who else—"
"Shhh," she cuts you off, a finger tapping your lips. "No need to be ashamed. Not anymore. In fact..." Her lips curve into that slow, knowing smile you saw downstairs, the one that felt like she held all the cards. "It kinda got... rushed straight into my friend group."
Heat flares through you, hotter than the alcohol buzz. The drink, whatever it is, makes everything feel ten times more intense. Your cock gives a hard throb against her, impossible to hide.
"I... I don't think I get it, Jimin," you stammer out, feeling small under her gaze, even though she's the one practically draped over you.
"You will," she murmurs. "Soon. Very soon."
Right on cue, a crisp ding-dong echoes through the apartment. The doorbell.
Karina lifts herself off your lap with infuriating grace, smoothing down her skirt. The sudden absence of her weight makes your erection ache. She glances towards the door, then back at you, a quick, almost apologetic flicker in her eyes before it's replaced by resolve.
"Showtime," she mouths, then turns and strides towards the entrance.
The lock clicks. The heavy door swings inward. And suddenly, the spacious living room feels crowded. Three figures step inside, bringing a wave of expensive perfume and overwhelming presence. Towering over Karina, towering over you.
Wonyoung is first, draped in a long, dramatic beige trench coat that swamps her frame but somehow still looks regal. Her expression is pure, unfiltered impatience, lips pursed into a perfect pout. Beside her, Yuna practically spills out of a tiny black leather tube top and matching micro-skirt, fishnets snaking up her long legs, a predatory grin already fixed on you. And then there's Sullyoon, looking almost angelic in a white lace corset top and ridiculously short pleated skirt, but her wide, curious eyes dart nervously between you, Karina, and Wonyoung, clutching a small designer handbag. They’re all impossibly beautiful. And impossibly tall.
You just swallow, hard, sinking back into the plush velvet of the couch. Your brain short-circuits. Four K-pop goddesses. In the same room. Looking at you.
"Finally," Wonyoung mutters, tapping an expensively manicured finger against her arm, not even bothering to hide her irritation. "Took long enough."
Karina closes the door, turning back to the group, her hostess smile firmly in place, though you see the slight tension in her shoulders. "Girls, this is the guy I was talking about. You... probably already know who they are, right?" she directs the last part at you, a weak attempt at normalcy.
You nod dumbly, unable to form words.
Wonyoung's sharp eyes rake over you, from your hair down to your feet. A dismissive little sniff escapes her.
"Huh. You're even smaller in person," she remarks, sounding unimpressed. She glances sharply at Karina. "Are you sure about this, Jimin?"
Karina nods quickly. "Yes. Positive."
Wonyoung just hums, unconvinced. Then, with fluid nonchalance, she reaches up and undoes the belt of her trench coat. The fabric falls open. Underneath, she's wearing nothing but a scandalous black lace lingerie set; push-up bra showcasing perfect cleavage, matching high-waisted panties emphasizing her tiny waist and long legs, held up by intricate garter straps. She absolutely came prepared. Your mouth goes dry.
Karina turns back to you, offering a hand. "Come on, stand up."
Your legs feel shaky. The bulge in your pants is painfully obvious now, throbbing in time with the frantic beat in your chest. You take her hand, letting her pull you to your feet. You feel like a child standing among them.
Wonyoung's gaze flicks down to your crotch, then back up, a flicker of something – interest? Disdain? – in her eyes. "Did he already drink?” she asks Karina, nodding towards the empty glass on the coffee table.
"Yep. All of it," Karina confirms.
Your head snaps towards Karina, sudden alarm cutting through the horny haze. "Drink what? What are you talking about?"
Karina laughs nervously, waving a dismissive hand. "Oh, it's nothing serious! Just a little something... to help you keep up. You know." She gestures vaguely at the three other women staring at you. "Four girls is no joke, right? Need stamina!"
"You... you literally drugged me?"
“Drugging is a very strong word!” she retorts, laughing nervously. “Look at you, conscious and healthy! What you drank was just an aphrodisiac, totally harmless.. and natural too.”
Yuna lets out a delighted giggle, covering her mouth with perfectly painted nails. "Aw, look at him. He's finally catching on!"
"Is... is what I think is going to happen... actually going to happen?" you ask Karina.
Wonyoung steps forward, silencing Karina before she can answer. She stops right in front of you, close enough you can smell the sweet, powdery scent of her skin beneath the perfume.
"If what you're thinking," Wonyoung states, her tone flat and bored, "is that you're about to get used like a personal dildo by four incredibly hot girls who are way out of your league... then yes. You are absolutely right."
Your breath hitches. Before you can process, Wonyoung gives a tiny, almost imperceptible nod. Immediately, Yuna and Sullyoon are flanking you. Strong hands grip your arms, surprisingly firm. Yuna's touch is confident, almost playful; Sullyoon's is hesitant but locks on tight. You flinch, trying instinctively to pull away, a pathetic little struggle.
"Hey, relax," Karina says quickly, stepping closer, her expression pleading. "Just... go with it. It'll be fun."
Fun? Your head is spinning, your body is on fire, and four idols are manhandling you after drugging you. But fuck, the dominant way Wonyoung is looking at you, the hungry glint in Yuna's eyes, even Sullyoon's wide-eyed curiosity... it's terrifyingly hot.
Wonyoung reaches out, her long fingers landing on the button of your jeans. Her touch is cool, deliberate.
"Alright," she announces, her gaze fixed on your crotch. "Let's see if Jimin was telling the truth, or if she just has a really weird memory of high school dick."
Her fingers work quickly, expertly. The button pops. The zipper slides down. Before you can even react, she hooks her thumbs into the waistband of your jeans and boxers together and yanks them down past your hips, down your thighs, letting them pool around your ankles.
Your cock springs free, fully, violently hard. It bounces heavily against your lower belly, thick and veiny and flushed a deep, angry red from the drug and the sheer, overwhelming arousal. Ten and a half inches of raw, improbable meat jutting out from your otherwise skinny frame.
Yuna gasps, her eyes widening comically. Sullyoon makes a tiny choking sound, her grip tightening on your arm as her gaze locks onto it, mesmerized. Even Karina lets out a soft, breathy sound, her eyes glued to your erection.
"Wow," Karina whispers, sounding genuinely awed. "Okay... maybe it is even bigger than I remembered."
Only Wonyoung remains utterly impassive. Her face is a mask of cool appraisal, like she's judging a piece of art. Or livestock. She studies it for a long moment, then, without warning, her hand closes around the base. Her grip is strong, cool. She gives it a few slow, deliberate strokes, thumb pressing firmly against the thick vein running down the shaft.
A strangled moan escapes your lips before you can stop it. Your hips buck involuntarily.
"Is this it?" Wonyoung asks coolly, still stroking, her eyes meeting yours. "Is this fully hard? Or does it get bigger?"
"Y-yes," you gasp out, eyes squeezed shut. "That's... that's it."
Wonyoung stops stroking. She clicks her tongue. "Hm. Well then." She looks directly at Karina, her expression hardening. "We have a problem."
She bends slightly, reaching into an inner pocket of her fallen trench coat. You tense, wondering what the hell she's doing now. She straightens up holding... a sleek, metallic ruler.
"Wait, Wonyoung, are you seriously—" Karina starts, aghast.
"Of course I am," Wonyoung snaps, cutting her off. She kneels slightly, holding the ruler flat against the top side of your shaft, pressing the end firmly against your pubic bone. Her fingers are cold against your heated skin. You flinch, utterly humiliated, but Yuna and Sullyoon hold you fast. Wonyoung squints at the measurement.
"Ten... point five," she announces. She stands up straight, glaring daggers at Karina. "Ten and a half inches. You liar."
Karina shrinks back slightly. "What?"
"You told me," Wonyoung accuses, poking a finger towards Karina, "that it was bigger than my bodyguard's. You specifically said bigger than the bodyguard. He's twelve inches, Jimin! Twelve! This isn't even close!"
"I... I haven't seen it in years!" Karina defends herself frantically, blushing furiously. "It was dark, and it happened so fast! I was scared! It looked bigger back then, I swear! I thought it was enormous!"
Wonyoung rolls her eyes dramatically. "Disappointing. Utterly disappointing."
"Oh my god, Wonyoung, stop being so dramatic!" Yuna cuts in, finally letting go of your arm to reach down and cup your heavy balls possessively. Sullyoon mirrors her, her hesitant hand closing around the thick shaft just below Wonyoung's earlier grip. Their combined touch sends sparks through your system. "Who cares if it's not twelve inches? Look at this thing!" Yuna gives your balls a gentle squeeze. "It's still incredibly big. And so thick! We can have plenty of fun with this." Her eyes meet yours, hot and challenging. "Right? I'm already getting wet just holding him."
Sullyoon nods eagerly, running a tentative finger over the smooth head, her eyes wide with fascination. "Yeah, Wonyoung. It's... it's really amazing."
Wonyoung sighs, a long-suffering sound, but her eyes linger on the sheer girth of your cock, now being eagerly handled by the other two. "Fine," she concedes grudgingly. "It is impressively thick, I'll give you that. It might be good for something after all." She pauses, then pins Karina with a sharp look. "But you still lied. And liars need to be punished."
Karina swallows hard, nervousness flashing across her features again. "Punished? How?"
"You'll see," Wonyoung says cryptically. She turns her attention back to you, dismissing Karina entirely. "You. Finish taking off your clothes. Now. And get in the bedroom." She gestures vaguely towards a door down the hall. "I don't have all night."
Without waiting for a response, Wonyoung turns on her heel, her lingerie-clad form disappearing towards the indicated room, the trench coat abandoned on the floor.
Yuna leans in close, her hot breath fanning your ear. "You heard the princess. Hurry up," she whispers, then plants a quick, wet kiss on your cheek before releasing your balls and following Wonyoung.
Sullyoon gives your aching cock one last, surprisingly firm squeeze, her eyes flicking up to meet yours with a mixture of shyness and burgeoning excitement. Then she too lets go and scurries after the others, leaving you standing there alone in the middle of the luxurious living room.
Your pants are around your ankles, your shirt is still on, your monster erection is throbbing painfully in the open air, slick with pre-cum and the lingering touch of three different idols. Your head spins from the drug, the humiliation, the sheer terror, and the undeniable, overwhelming wave of horniness flooding your system. What the fuck just happened? And what the fuck happens next? You stand frozen, caught somewhere between wanting to run and wanting to crawl into that bedroom immediately. Obviously, driven by a total lack of shame and an unbearable horniness, combined with no sense of self-preservation, you choose the second option.
Fuck it. You kick off your fallen pants and boxers fully, leaving them in a pathetic heap on the expensive floor, and start walking towards the bedroom door Wonyoung vanished through. Your bare feet pad silently on the cool hardwood.
Karina falls into step beside you, her bare shoulder brushing your arm. You glance sideways at her, the mix of betrayal and horniness churning in your gut.
"You lied to me," you state. "The whole time. Downstairs. In the car."
She flinches slightly but keeps walking, her gaze fixed on the bedroom door ahead. "Okay, technically... maybe a little bit by omission?"
"A little bit?" you scoff, feeling a hysterical laugh bubble up. "You drugged me, Jimin! You set me up to be... to be some kind of human dildo for your idol friends!"
"Hey!" she protests, stopping for a second. "I did want to see you again. Honestly. That part wasn't a lie." She searches your face, her expression earnest, though it's hard to trust anything she says right now. "Things just got... complicated. And Wonyoung kinda insisted after I... might have mentioned you."
"Mentioned me? Or mentioned this?" you gesture vaguely downwards at your still stubbornly rigid cock.
"Both?" she offers weakly.
You shake your head, feeling dizzy again. "It's kinda hard to believe anything you say right now."
You reach the bedroom doorway and hesitate, peering inside. The room is huge, dominated by a massive bed with a dark grey headboard and way too many pillows. Soft light glows from hidden fixtures. Yuna and Sullyoon are near the foot of the bed, casually shedding their clothes. Yuna unhooks her leather top with a flourish, letting it drop to reveal a simple, strappy black bra that barely contains her curves. Sullyoon is more methodical, carefully folding her pleated skirt before unzipping the back of her lace corset, revealing matching white lace panties and a push-up bra that gives her an impressive silhouette. They’re both practically glowing with confidence, completely unbothered by your presence.
Karina gently pushes you forward, over the threshold. She reaches up and pulls her sheer blouse over her head in one smooth motion, tossing it onto a nearby armchair. Her bra is pale pink lace, elegant but functional, doing its best to support her surprisingly full, pale breasts. They swell invitingly over the delicate fabric, nipples visibly hard beneath the lace. You can't help but stare for a beat, remembering the feel of them pressed against your chest years ago.
She catches you looking and gives a small, self-conscious smile before starting to unzip her skirt. It slides down her legs, pooling around her knee-high boots before she finally takes them off. Underneath, she wears matching pink lace panties. "Your turn," she prompts, nodding towards your shirt. "Unless you want Wonyoung to rip it off you."
The thought is strangely appealing, but you comply, pulling your t-shirt over your head and tossing it vaguely towards hers. Now you're standing there in just your socks, utterly exposed.
"So..." you begin, looking between the four women, feeling incredibly out of place and ridiculously turned on. "What... uh... what happens now?"
"Now?" Wonyoung's drawl comes from the bed. You see her lounging against the pillows, still in her black lingerie, legs crossed, watching you with predatory amusement. "Now the fun begins, tiny."
Wonyoung slides off the bed with feline grace. Yuna and Sullyoon turn from their discarded clothes, their eyes immediately locking onto your cock again. Together, the three of them approach, moving with unnerving synchronicity. They stop a few feet away, then slowly, deliberately, sink to their knees in front of you. Three pairs of stunning eyes staring intently at your dick. It’s like some weird, terrifyingly hot religious ceremony.
Karina takes a step forward, starting to kneel beside them, but Wonyoung shoots her a look sharp enough to cut glass.
"Ah-ah," Wonyoung chides, clicking her tongue. "Not you. Not yet."
Karina freezes, her cheeks flushing slightly. She straightens up quickly, looking uncertain. After a moment's hesitation, she steps beside you instead, looping an arm comfortingly around your shoulders, pulling you slightly against her side. Her skin is warm. She leans in and presses a soft, quick kiss to your temple.
"Just breathe," she whispers, her lips brushing your ear. "Try to enjoy it?"
Enjoy it? Your heart is trying to beat its way out of your chest, but as Wonyoung reaches out, followed immediately by Yuna and Sullyoon, their hands hovering just inches from your shaft, a low groan rumbles in your chest.
Wonyoung's fingers, cool and clinical, land first. She wraps them around the base again, testing the weight, her thumb tracing the thick vein. Yuna goes straight for the head, her touch surprisingly bold as she wets a fingertip with her tongue and circles the sensitive tip, making you gasp. Sullyoon hesitates for only a second before tentatively cupping your heavy balls, her touch feather-light at first, then growing firmer as she seems to gain confidence.
"Holy shit," Yuna breathes out, her eyes wide as she keeps teasing the head of your cock. "It's like... holding a fucking baseball bat. But, like, a really nice, warm baseball bat."
Sullyoon giggles nervously, her fingers exploring the taut skin of your scrotum. "It doesn't even look real up close. How does this even fit on someone?"
Wonyoung ignores them, focusing her attention on the shaft, running her other hand slowly up and down its length, mapping the texture, the heat. "Forget the length," she murmurs, almost to herself. "The girth on this thing... Now this is interesting." She squeezes slightly, eliciting another strangled sound from you. "Definitely something to work with."
Karina's arm tightens around your shoulders, a silent signal of... support? Apology? Shared anticipation? You can barely think straight, trapped between her comforting presence and the overwhelming sensation of three gorgeous idols worshipping your freakishly large dick like it's the eighth wonder of the world. Your knees feel weak, the room spins gently, and all you can focus on is the heat building low in your belly, spiraling outwards from their exploring hands.
Wonyoung maintains her grip on the base, anchoring you, while her tongue makes slow, deliberate laps around the thickest part of the shaft, pressing hard. It's methodical, almost analytical, but feels incredible. Yuna, giggling, dives lower, taking one of your heavy balls fully into her mouth, sucking strongly while her other hand playfully squeezes its twin. You cry out, hips jerking, hands clenching into fists at your sides. Sullyoon, seeming to take her cue from Yuna, mimics the action on your other ball, her technique less practiced but no less enthusiastic, her cheeks hollowing with the effort.
"Mmmph," Yuna hums around your ball, her eyes sparkling up at you. "So salty. You taste good."
Sullyoon nods vigorously, her mouth still full.
Karina's arm tightens around your shoulders. You can feel the slight tremor running through her. "God," she breathes out, her gaze fixed on the scene below. "Look at them..."
Wonyoung lifts her head slightly, her lips glistening. "Alright, girls, new plan." Her tone is all business, but there's a dark spark in her eyes. "I need him really wet. Like, dripping. Slobber him up properly. I have plans for all that lube later."
Yuna pulls off your ball with a wet pop. "Ooh, bossy Wonyoung! My favorite!" She winks, then immediately latches onto the mid-shaft, sucking hard and deep, making deliberately sloppy noises. "You want drool? You got drool, princess!"
Sullyoon, blushing furiously but clearly eager to please, releases your other ball and joins Yuna on the shaft, her mouth smaller but working just as diligently, their tongues occasionally bumping. It's a hot, messy tangle of lips and saliva coating your straining cock.
Wonyoung watches them for a second, a critical glint in her eyes, before lowering her head again, her tongue darting out to flick teasingly at the sensitive underside, right where the shaft meets your balls. You groan, head tipping back against Karina's shoulder.
"Oh my god," Karina whispers, her own breathing quickening. She leans her cheek against your hair. "Are you... are you okay? Are you enjoying this?"
Is she serious? Your brain is soup, your body is humming like a live wire, and three of the most beautiful women on the planet are tag-teaming your dick like it owes them money.
"F-fuck," you manage to gasp out, legs trembling. "Y-yes? Maybe? God, Jimin, it's..." You can't finish. Another wave of pleasure crashes over you as Yuna somehow manages to take even more of you into her throat, her hand pumping the base in time with her sucking. Pre-cum beads thickly at the tip, immediately licked away by Sullyoon's inquisitive tongue.
"He likes it!" Sullyoon announces proudly through a mouthful of spit and dick.
"Course he likes it, dummy," Yuna retorts, pulling back just enough to talk. "Look at him! Leaking like a faucet already. We're doing a great job making him nice and slippery for Wonyoung's mysterious plans." She gives Wonyoung a suggestive look.
Wonyoung just smirks, her tongue still tracing lazy circles near your balls. "Focus, Yuna. More spit. Less talk."
"Yes, ma'am!" Yuna salutes mockingly, then dives back in, somehow managing to sound even wetter this time. Sullyoon follows suit, their combined efforts painting your cock in thick, glistening ropes of saliva. The wet sucking sounds fill the room, punctuated by your helpless moans and the occasional giggle from Yuna or encouragement from Karina.
"Damn," Karina murmurs again, her fingers tightening on your shoulder. "You really are... something else." She sounds genuinely impressed, and maybe a little turned on herself. You feel a bead of sweat trickle down your temple, the heat in the room, or maybe just in your own body, becoming almost unbearable. This is insane. It's degrading. It's terrifying.
And fuck, you hope they don't stop anytime soon.
"More," Wonyoung demands, her own mouth leaving your balls for a moment to issue the order. "I want him practically drowning in it. Yuna, Sullyoon, don't be shy with the spit."
Yuna grins wickedly around your shaft. "You hear that, Sullyoonie? Permission to be absolutely disgusting!" She pulls back slightly, gathers saliva in her mouth (you can literally hear it) and then leans in, letting a thick, clear stream drizzle directly onto the head of your cock. It mixes with the pre-cum already leaking there, creating a pearly mess. "How's that, boss?"
"Better," Wonyoung approves, nodding slightly. She then looks pointedly at Sullyoon. "Your turn."
Sullyoon hesitates for only a split second, blushing scarlet, before copying Yuna. Her spit is maybe a little less voluminous, but she makes up for it with enthusiasm, adding another layer of wetness. You groan loudly, bucking against their mouths as the warm liquid coats you. It feels unbelievably degrading and yet insanely hot.
"Oh my god, they're actually spitting on it," Karina whispers beside you, sounding both horrified and utterly captivated. "Is that... does that feel okay?"
"F-Feels..." you gasp, trying to catch your breath. "Feels fucking weird! Good weird! Fuck!"
"Language," Wonyoung chides absently, though she doesn't sound genuinely annoyed. She seems focused on the task at hand. She uses her fingers to smear the combined spit and pre-cum all over the shaft, ensuring every inch is glistening under the soft bedroom lights. "See? Nice and slick. Almost ready."
"Ready for what?" Yuna asks playfully, her tongue now lapping up the excess spit near the base, her cheeks puffed out. "You gonna use him as a slip-n-slide?"
Wonyoung ignores her. "Tip duty. Both of you," she commands Yuna and Sullyoon.
They obey instantly. Sullyoon’s smaller tongue darts out, carefully tracing the ridge of the corona, while Yuna goes straight for the slit, flicking her tongue rapidly over the hypersensitive opening, drawing out even more pre-cum. Their tongues brush, slide over each other, working in tandem to worship the very head of your cock. It’s an agonizingly precise torture.
"Mmm, look how much pre-cum he's making," Sullyoon murmurs, her eyes wide with fascination. "It tastes good."
"Told ya," Yuna slurps, managing to get her lips around the entire glans for a moment, sucking hard before releasing it with another wet pop. "He's like a leaky faucet of man-juice. Keep licking, Sullyoon, let's make it nice and shiny."
They continue their ministrations, tongues swirling, lapping, occasionally flicking out to catch stray drips running down the shaft. Wonyoung watches critically, occasionally adding a guiding touch with her finger or a low hum of approval. Karina is practically vibrating beside you now, her hand gripping your shoulder tightly, her knuckles white. You can feel her shallow, rapid breaths against your neck.
The combined stimulation is relentless. Your toes curl, your back arches off the floor slightly, supported only by Karina's arm. A high-pitched whine escapes your throat. You feel dangerously close, the pressure building low and deep, coiling tight in your balls.
Just as you think you might actually lose it, Wonyoung gives a sharp nod. "Okay. Enough."
Yuna and Sullyoon pull back simultaneously, leaving your cock absolutely drenched, glistening obscenely, thick ropes of saliva and pre-cum dripping onto the floor. It stands there, twitching slightly, impossibly hard and looking utterly debauched.
Wonyoung leans back on her heels, surveying their handiwork with a critical eye. A small, satisfied smirk touches her lips. "Acceptable," she declares finally. Then, her gaze shifts, sharp and imperious, landing squarely on Karina, who is still holding you up, looking flushed and breathless from watching.
"Karina," Wonyoung commands, her tone leaving no room for argument. "On your knees. Now.”
Karina practically beams, relief washing over her face as she drops eagerly to her knees before you, eyes fixed on your glistening, spit-slicked cock. She clearly thinks it’s finally her turn, leaning forward slightly, lips parting in anticipation. Oh, how wrong she is.
Wonyoung watches her kneel with a predatory stillness, letting the hope bloom on Karina’s face for a torturous second before shattering it.
"What do you think you're doing?" Wonyoung asks, her tone deceptively soft.
Karina blinks, confused. "I'm... you told me to kneel?" Her gaze flickers towards your cock, then back to Wonyoung, clearly expecting the order to suck.
"Yes. Kneel for your punishment," Wonyoung corrects coolly. "For lying to me about the merchandise." She gestures towards your erection with a flick of her wrist. "You don't get to taste it yet. First, you pay the price for exaggerating."
Karina's hopeful expression evaporates, replaced by wide-eyed confusion, then dawning fear. "Punishment? Wait, what—"
Beside her, Yuna claps a hand over her mouth, shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter. Sullyoon tries to stifle a giggle behind her hand, her eyes sparkling with mischievous delight. They clearly knew this was coming.
"H-how... how are you going to punish me?" Karina stammers, looking genuinely scared now.
Wonyoung's lips curl into a cruel, slow smile. "With this," she declares, and before Karina can react, Wonyoung reaches out, her hand closing firmly around the base of your thick, dripping cock. She lifts it slightly, like she’s hefting a weapon. Then, with a swift, deliberate motion, she swings it sideways, slapping the wet, heavy shaft right across Karina’s cheek.
The sound is shockingly loud, wet and fleshy. Karina cries out, head snapping to the side from the impact, a bright red mark instantly blooming on her pale skin, smeared with your spit and pre-cum.
Yuna and Sullyoon absolutely lose it, bursting into loud laughter, clutching each other for support.
"Oh my god! She actually did it!" Yuna howls between giggles.
Wonyoung ignores them, her focus entirely on Karina’s stunned, reddening face. "Rule number one, Jimin: Don't bullshit me about dick size," she states calmly. "Since you were off by almost two inches, but we'll round down... let's make it ten hits. One for every lovely, thick inch he actually has." She adjusts her grip on your shaft, preparing for the next swing.
The sensation is… bizarre. Jarring at first, then this strange, intense vibration travels up the shaft with each impact, making your cock throb pleasurably. You stand there, rooted to the spot, watching Wonyoung use your own dick to punish Karina.
SMACK! "One," Wonyoung counts, hitting the other cheek this time. Karina whimpers, squeezing her eyes shut but holding her position.
SMACK! "Two." Another wet impact, leaving another glistening smear.
SMACK! "Three." Karina lets out a low moan this time, a sound that’s halfway between pain and something else. Her hands clench into fists on her thighs.
SMACK! "Four." Your cock feels incredibly sensitive, the repeated slapping friction oddly satisfying against the wetness. It feels… good. Way better than it should.
"Look at her face!" Sullyoon squeals, pointing. "It's all red and shiny!"
SMACK! "Five." Wonyoung delivers this one harder, snapping Karina’s head back slightly. A tear escapes the corner of Karina's eye, but the soft sigh that follows it sounds suspiciously like pleasure.
Fuck, is she actually getting off on this?
"Damn, Wonyoung, you're really going for it," Yuna comments, still chuckling. "Can we have a turn? Please? It looks fun! Like that baseball bat I mentioned!"
Wonyoung pauses after the fifth hit, considering Yuna's request while keeping a firm grip on your throbbing shaft. Karina uses the moment to take a shaky breath, her chest rising and falling rapidly, eyes still closed, face flushed and marked.
"Fine," Wonyoung concedes with a shrug. "But don't mess up the count. Five more hits."
Yuna squeals with delight and practically lunges forward, grabbing your cock just below Wonyoung's hand. Sullyoon eagerly joins in, her smaller hands closing around the shaft as well. They wield it together, a combined grip that feels incredibly tight and encompassing.
"Our turn, Jimin!" Yuna chirps happily. "Ready for the big leagues?"
Karina nods mutely, bracing herself.
SMACK! Yuna and Sullyoon swing together, their combined force making the impact even heavier. "Six!" Yuna yells gleefully.
SMACK! "Seven!" Sullyoon shouts, getting into the spirit. The wet slap echoes in the room. Karina moans louder this time, a definite note of arousal in the sound now, her hips shifting slightly on the floor.
SMACK! "Eight!" They're literally using your dick like a club, and the friction, the impact, the sheer humiliation of the scene it's pushing you closer to the edge again. Your cock feels impossibly hard, straining against their tight grips between hits.
SMACK! "Nine!" Karina's breathing is harsh now, her lips parted, another tear tracking through the smear of spit on her cheek, but her eyes, when they flutter open for a second, look hazy and aroused.
"Last one!" Yuna announces. They swing back for momentum—
SMACK! "Ten!" The final hit lands solidly, leaving Karina panting, her face a mess of red marks and glistening wetness, looking utterly wrecked and undeniably horny.
Yuna and Sullyoon release you abruptly, stepping back and admiring their handiwork, giggling like schoolgirls. Your cock springs free, still dripping, throbbing from the repeated impacts, feeling incredibly sensitive and somehow even harder than before.
Karina stays kneeling on the expensive rug, her face still flushed, marked with the fading red impressions from your own dick. Her eyes, though, they aren't filled with pain or anger anymore. They're locked onto your cock, still dripping thick ropes of spit and pre-cum onto the floor, throbbing from the abuse it just dished out.
"Wony... please," Karina asks, her eyes flickering up to the dominant girl who stands observing like a bored queen. "Can I... Can I clean him up? Please? Just let me taste it."
Wonyoung taps a long, perfectly manicured finger against her chin, pretending to mull it over. The silence stretches, Yuna and Sullyoon watch with barely concealed amusement, clearly enjoying Karina's predicament.
"Hmmmm," Wonyoung hums, drawing out the moment. "Let me think..." She pauses dramatically. "No."
The single word hits Karina like another slap. Her face falls, hope instantly extinguished, replaced by stinging disappointment. She looks down, biting her lip hard.
"Maybe later," Wonyoung adds dismissively, like tossing a scrap to a dog. "If you're a good girl. But first, I need to see if this... thing... is actually any good. Can't have substandard equipment tarnishing my reputation, can we?" She turns that cool, appraising gaze back to you, dismissing Karina entirely. "If I don't like it, Jimin," she says, deliberately using Karina's real name, "then you are royally screwed. Understand?"
Karina just nods mutely, looking utterly dejected.
"You," Wonyoung commands, pointing a sharp finger at you. "Bed. Now."
Your body feels disconnected from your brain. Part of you wants to bolt, to run screaming from this luxurious nightmare penthouse. But the aphrodisiac humming in your veins, combined with the overwhelming presence of these four women and the undeniable, terrifying arousal Wonyoung sparks in you, roots you to the spot. You hesitate, muscles locking up.
Before you can make a conscious decision, Yuna and Sullyoon are grabbing your arms again. Their initial playful exploration is gone, replaced by a firm, almost rough grip. They practically drag you across the room, your bare feet stumbling slightly on the plush carpet. They don't exactly throw you, but they guide you firmly onto the enormous bed, pushing you down until you're lying flat on your back amidst the sea of expensive pillows and crisp grey duvet. The mattress sinks slightly under your weight.
You lie there, utterly exposed, your erection jutting towards the ceiling like some obscene monument. The humiliation burns, but fuck, so does the heat pooling in your gut. The three of them (Wonyoung, Yuna, Sullyoon) climb onto the bed with predatory grace, surrounding you. Karina lingers near the foot of the bed, looking lost and unsure, still just in her pink lace bra and panties, hugging herself slightly.
Wonyoung positions herself directly between your legs, kneeling over you. She reaches down, grabbing your ankles and pulling your legs further apart, forcing you into an even more vulnerable position. Her eyes rake over your cock with that same critical appraisal, as if deciding where to start.
"Alright, let's see," she murmurs, almost to herself. Wonyoung puts her panties aside, then she reaches out, her fingers wrapping around the base, cool and clinical. Then, slowly, deliberately, she guides the thick, slick head towards her own entrance. You watch, breathless, as she tries to position herself, biting her lip slightly in concentration. Her pussy looks impossibly tight, incredibly intimidating compared to the sheer girth she's trying to take.
She lowers herself slowly, carefully. There's a sharp intake of breath, her eyes squeezing shut for a second as the head breaches her entrance. A low hiss escapes her lips.
"Fuck," Wonyoung grits out. "Okay. Wow. The thickness is really something else."
She stops, only the head and maybe an inch or two inside her. She breathes deeply, trying to relax, her hands braced on your chest. You can feel the muscles inside her clenching tightly around you, resisting the invasion.
"Just... give me a second," she mutters, more to herself than to you. She takes another slow breath and pushes down again, harder this time. A strangled gasp tears from her throat, her back arching slightly. She manages another inch, maybe two. The friction is intense, almost unbearable for both of you. You can feel every ridge, every vein of your cock scraping against her impossibly tight walls.
"See?" she pants, forcing a strained smile as she looks up at you. "Told you... I could handle it."
She starts to move then, tentative at first. Tiny, almost imperceptible shifts of her hips, trying to ease herself further down onto your length. Each small movement sends jolts of raw pleasure through you, but it's mixed with the undeniable sight of her pain. Her face is screwed up in concentration, sweat beading on her forehead.
"God, it... it kinda hurts," she admits through clenched teeth, pausing her movements. "But..." A different kind of noise escapes her then, a low moan that's equal parts pain and dawning pleasure. "...But it also feels... fuck, it feels kinda good, too. Stretching me out like this."
She starts moving again, a little bolder now, lifting herself slightly before sinking back down, taking a fraction more of you each time. The initial pain seems to be giving way, replaced by the friction, the sheer fullness. You can see the shift in her expression, the tight lines of discomfort slowly melting into something hotter, needier. She's managed to take maybe five, six inches now; just over half your length, but already filling her completely.
"Okay," Wonyoung breathes out, her rhythm becoming more confident, a slow, steady grind. "Okay, I see the appeal." Her eyes flick towards Yuna and Sullyoon, who are watching the scene with rapt attention. "This girth... it hits different."
Then, her gaze drops back to you, and the cruelty returns, sharp and sudden. "Look at you," she sneers as she continues her slow, torturous ride. "Just lying there. Taking it. Like a good little freak."
"Letting me just... use you," she continues, picking up the pace slightly, her moans starting to mingle with her insults. "Because that's all you're good for, isn't it? With a dick like that on a body like yours? You're just a fucking toy. A novelty. Something to be passed around and used up when we're bored." She leans down, her face close to yours, her eyes cold. "You have no dignity, do you? Just a pathetic little fucktoy waiting for orders."
You flinch, turning your head away, shame warring with the undeniable arousal her words, her movements, are stirring in you. A low sound escapes your throat, a mix between a whimper and a groan.
Wonyoung laughs, a harsh, satisfied sound. "Oh, you like that? Being put in your place?"
Beside the bed, Yuna and Sullyoon are practically vibrating with excitement. The sight of Wonyoung dominating you, humiliating you, is clearly turning them on immensely. Yuna reaches out, her fingers fumbling with the clasp of Sullyoon's white lace bra. Sullyoon gasps softly but doesn't stop her, instead leaning in to press a kiss to Yuna's shoulder as the bra falls away, revealing her surprisingly full, pale breasts, nipples already hard. Yuna moans, her hands immediately cupping Sullyoon's chest, thumbs circling the stiff peaks. Sullyoon arches her back, pushing into Yuna's touch, her eyes fluttering shut as Yuna leans down to suckle one nipple greedily. They start touching each other, slow, sensual caresses, lost in their own world but clearly fueled by the scene playing out on the bed.
You can't help it, your hands start to move, wanting to grip Wonyoung's hips, wanting some semblance of control, some way to push back against the humiliation, to match the intensity of her ride. But the second your fingers brush her skin, her hand flashes out, slapping you hard across the face.
It hurts. A lot.
The force of it snaps your head to the side, your cheek stinging instantly. Stars explode behind your eyes.
"Don't touch me unless I tell you to!" Wonyoung orders sharply. "Just lie there and do what you're told, toy. Be useful."
Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, from the slap, the humiliation, the sheer overwhelming nature of it all. You nod mutely, letting your hands fall limply to your sides. You obey. Because what else can you do?
Karina, who has been watching all this unfold from the foot of the bed, her face a mixture of arousal, pity, and fear, finally speaks up. Her voice is small, hesitant. "Wony... maybe... maybe take it easy on him? He's..."
Wonyoung cuts her off with a venomous glare, pausing her rhythmic grinding on your cock just long enough to snap, "Shut the fuck up, Jimin." Her voice is ice. "Did I say you could talk? No. You're lucky you're even in this room after lying to me." She gestures dismissively towards Karina's chest. "Now take off that fucking bra, whore. I want those big pale tits of yours out. Now."
Karina flinches as if struck, but the order, the sudden harsh attention, also seems to ignite something in her. A flicker of desperation, a need to please, to get back in Wonyoung's good graces (or maybe just to feel something other than sidelined). Without another word, her hands move to her back, fumbling slightly with the clasp. The pink lace falls away, revealing her own full, pale breasts, nipples tight and dark against her skin. She keeps her eyes down, looking utterly miserable yet strangely defiant.
Wonyoung gives a grunt of approval, then immediately resumes riding you, harder now, her moans mixing with yours. Your own moan escapes, louder this time, raw with the conflicting mess of pain, humiliation, and overwhelming pleasure. You can't help it; despite everything, despite the slap still stinging your cheek, the sight of Wonyoung grinding down on you, her perfect body moving above yours, is undeniably beautiful.
"Damn, you’re so fucking hot," you groan out, the words ripped from you involuntarily.
Wonyoung pauses for a beat, tilting her head slightly as if she just registered your words through the haze of her own pleasure. A slow, incredibly smug smile spreads across her face.
"I know," she says simply.
Across the room, Yuna lifts her head from Sullyoon's breast, her lips wet. Sullyoon moans softly as Yuna's hand slides between her legs. Yuna's eyes flick between you and Wonyoung, a knowing smirk blooming on her face.
"Oh?" Yuna says, her voice sly. "Looks like our little toy likes being used after all. Likes being treated rough."
Sullyoon giggles breathlessly, nodding in agreement, her eyes also fixed on your reaction. "He really does…”
Wonyoung is definitely having fun now. The initial tightness and discomfort have melted away, replaced by pure, unadulterated pleasure radiating from her face. Her movements are stronger, more demanding, her hips rocking against yours with a practiced rhythm that steals your breath. She throws her head back, dark hair cascading over her shoulders, a genuine, guttural moan ripping from her throat as she grinds down hard, milking another wave of intense friction from your thick shaft.
"Oh, fuck," Wonyoung gasps out, her eyes half-lidded, glazed with pleasure. "Okay, okay... this is... goddamn... the thickness is insane. It feels... holy shit." She grips your hips tighter, digging her perfectly manicured nails into your skin, leveraging herself for deeper strokes. "Forget the length, this girth..." she groans again, riding you with renewed vigor. "It fills me up completely. Hits everything."
Karina, still standing nearby with her bra discarded, sees her opening. Her eyes light up with a desperate need for validation, latching onto Wonyoung's praise like a lifeline.
"See?" Karina blurts out, stepping closer to the bed, her voice hopeful. "See, Wony? I told you! I told you it was amazing! I knew you'd like it!"
Wonyoung's eyes snap open. She glares daggers at Karina, her rhythm faltering slightly.
"Shut up, Jimin," Wonyoung snaps. "Don't interrupt me when I'm busy. And don't think a lucky guess about the thickness makes up for you lying about the size. You said twelve inches. You lied."
Karina shrinks back, wilting under the glare. "I didn't lie!" she protests weakly, twisting her hands together. "I just... I remembered it wrong! It was years ago! I made a mistake!"
"A convenient mistake," Wonyoung scoffs, but her attention is already shifting. A wicked glint enters her eyes as she looks Karina up and down, lingering on her bare chest. "Fine. You want to be useful? Bring those big tits over here. Right now."
Karina hesitates for only a fraction of a second, glancing nervously at you, then back at Wonyoung. The desperation to please, to be included, wins out. She quickly climbs onto the bed, kneeling beside Wonyoung, carefully avoiding touching you. She leans forward tentatively, offering her chest.
Wonyoung doesn't waste a second. She leans over, still impaling you, and captures one of Karina's large, pale nipples between her teeth, sucking hard. Karina cries out, a sharp gasp that's equal parts surprise and pleasure, her back arching instinctively. Wonyoung uses her free hand to mercilessly squeeze Karina's other breast, kneading the soft flesh, pinching the already hard nipple between her thumb and forefinger.
"Mmmph," Wonyoung hums around Karina's nipple, her eyes fluttering shut again as she focuses on the dual sensations: your thick cock stretching her tight cunt, Karina's soft breast filling her mouth. "Okay... gotta admit, Jimin... these are pretty fucking amazing too." She releases the nipple with a wet pop, leaving it glistening and dark red, before latching onto the other one. "So full... so soft..." she murmurs, squeezing the first breast possessively.
Karina is panting now, her face flushed, eyes hazy. She looks utterly wrecked, caught between the intense stimulation and the relief of finally having Wonyoung's attention, even like this.
Yuna, who has paused her ministrations on Sullyoon to watch, lets out a theatrical sigh. Sullyoon is leaning against her, completely bare now, her small breasts flushed, nipples pebbled hard as she watches Wonyoung and Karina with wide, fascinated eyes.
"Ugh, not fair," Yuna whines playfully, cupping her own smaller chest for comparison. "I wish mine were big and squishy like Karina's. Lucky bitch."
Sullyoon nods in agreement, her gaze still fixed on Karina's chest being manhandled by Wonyoung.
Now, the sight is fucking unreal: Wonyoung riding you, her tight pussy gripping your thick cock with every downward thrust, while simultaneously devouring Karina's breast like it's the finest dessert. The combined visual is overwhelmingly hot, your breath hitches, catches, turns into ragged pants that fill the otherwise quiet room (save for Wonyoung's increasingly loud moans and Karina's breathy gasps). You can't help the sounds escaping you, raw groans torn from your throat with every powerful stroke Wonyoung delivers.
"Ah... Fuck... W-Wonyoung... Oh god..."
Wonyoung seems to reach a new peak, her movements becoming frantic, her grip on Karina's breast tightening almost painfully. Karina cries out again, but Wonyoung doesn't seem to notice, lost in her own pleasure. Then, abruptly, the intensity breaks. Wonyoung slows her pace, breathing heavily, sweat glistening on her skin. The sudden change makes your own ragged breathing sound even louder in the relative quiet.
Wonyoung glares down at you, annoyance flashing across her sweat-slicked face. "Ugh, can you stop making so much noise?" she complains, sounding like the spoiled princess she is. "It's distracting. Seriously, shut up." She glances over at the other two girls, who are now just watching, hands idle. "One of you, deal with this. Shut him up. Sit on his face or something. I don't care, just make him quiet."
Yuna and Sullyoon exchange excited glances. Sullyoon looks slightly hesitant, but Yuna grins wickedly.
"Ooh, face-sitting duty? Dibs!" Yuna declares immediately.
"Hey! No fair! I wanna do it too!" Sullyoon protests, pouting slightly.
Yuna rolls her eyes. "Okay, fine, drama queen. Rock paper scissors for it? Winner gets to smother him."
Sullyoon nods eagerly. They both hold out their fists.
"Rock! Paper! Scissors! SHOOT!"
Yuna throws paper. Sullyoon throws rock.
"Ha! Yes!" Yuna cheers triumphantly, pumping her fist. "Paper covers rock! Face is mine!"
Sullyoon groans dramatically but doesn't argue further, instead settling back to watch with keen interest. Yuna crawls purposefully towards your head, her movements fluid and confident. She's completely naked now, her lithe body gleaming slightly under the soft lights, her earlier play with Sullyoon having clearly left her thoroughly aroused. She positions herself directly over your face, straddling your neck, her bare pussy hovering just inches above your mouth. You can smell her arousal; musky, salty, intoxicating. She's definitely wet.
Yuna leans down slightly, her dark hair falling around her face, brushing against your cheeks.
"Alright, noise machine," Yuna purrs, lowering herself just enough that her wet folds brush against your lips. "Princess Wonyoung wants you quiet. So you're gonna focus on me now." She shifts her hips, grinding her clit lightly against your mouth. "Open up and eat. And don't stop until I tell you to."
She settles her weight down fully then, pressing her wetness firmly against your mouth and nose. The sensation is overwhelming; the soft pressure, the intimate scent, the taste of her arousal instantly flooding your senses. Wonyoung is still moving on your cock below, a steady, demanding rhythm, her moans starting up again, quieter now. Karina is still kneeling beside her, breasts bare, watching Yuna with wide eyes. Sullyoon is watching everything, touching herself lightly. And Yuna... Yuna is grinding onto your face, demanding your tongue, muffling any sound you might make besides muffled gasps into her flesh.
"That's it," Yuna murmurs. "Lick me, freak. Use that tongue. Make me feel good while Wonyoung breaks you." She moans as your tongue finally finds her clit, flicking against the sensitive nub. "Oh fuck... yeah, right there... Don't stop!”
Across the bed, Sullyoon is completely naked now, lying on her side, propped up on one elbow. Her eyes are wide, dark, fixed on the tangled mess of limbs. Her free hand is working furiously between her own long legs, fingers slick and glistening as she rubs herself, her breath coming in short, sharp pants.
"Oh my god," Sullyoon gasps out, watching Wonyoung slam down onto your cock. "Look how deep she's taking him... Fuck, Karina, she's murdering your tits too..." Her fingers move faster, her knuckles white. "Girls, this is... this is so hot..."
Wonyoung lets out another high, keening moan, throwing her head back again. Her grip on Karina's breast tightens, eliciting a sharp cry from her. Wonyoung doesn't seem to notice, her focus entirely internal now, chasing her own climax.
"Nnngh... Fuck... Almost... almost there..." Wonyoung pants, her words broken. Her hips slam down onto you with punishing force, again and again, driving you deeper into the mattress. The sheer thickness of your cock seems to be exactly what she needs, stretching her, filling her, pushing her closer to the edge. "Fuck... yes..." Wonyoung pants. "God, this girth... it's perfect. Hits me just... ah... right."
Meanwhile, Yuna is making your life a living hell in the best/worst possible way. Her slick cunt grinds relentlessly against your mouth, demanding attention. Your tongue is working frantically, trying to keep up, licking and sucking at her clit as she rides your face like she was born for it. The musky taste of her fills your senses, making your head spin even more than the aphrodisiac already is. Her hands grip the sides of your head, fingers tangling in your hair, holding you firmly in place.
"Lick faster, toy," Yuna commands. "Don't you dare slack off. Make me feel good."
You try to comply, your tongue moving in frantic circles, lapping at the wetness she’s providing. Suddenly, she shifts her weight awkwardly, wobbling slightly. Your hands instinctively shoot up, grabbing her hips to steady her before she can completely fall off balance.
"Nnngh-!" Yuna gasps, surprised by your quick reaction, but she settles back down immediately, grinding even harder against your mouth now that she has your hands supporting her. "Yes! Hold me right there, fucker! That's it! Hold me steady while I ride your face off! Fuck, use that tongue, bitch!"
Watching this chaotic scene, Sullyoon is practically vibrating on the spot. Her hand is a blur between her legs, fingers working her clit with frantic speed. Her face is flushed crimson, eyes wide and glazed, fixed on the tangle of bodies. A thin sheen of sweat covers her skin, and it is possible to see the creamy wetness starting to seep from between her own folds, slicking her fingers.
"Oh my god... oh fuck..." Sullyoon moans. "Wony... Yuna... you guys are so... fuck..."
Even Karina can't resist. Her free hand, the one not being crushed by Wonyoung, creeps down hesitantly at first, fingers brushing against her own damp panties. Seeing Yuna and Sullyoon so lost in pleasure, feeling Wonyoung's mouth still working her nipple, watching you get absolutely used... it's too much. Her fingers slip underneath the lace, finding her own clit, and she starts rubbing herself with small, desperate movements, her breath hitching.
Wonyoung throws her head back again, a loud, piercing moan tearing from her throat as she slams down onto your cock particularly hard, her tight walls milking you intensely.
"Fuck! Yes! Right there! Oh god, I'm... I'm getting close!" she screams. "Fuck, this dick is... magic!"
Yuna hears her and lets out an ecstatic shriek muffled against your lips. "Yes! Wony, yes! Me too! Let's cum together! Fuck!" She picks up her pace, grinding her clit against your tongue so hard it's almost painful, her whole body trembling.
"No! Wait!" Sullyoon cries out from the side, her fingers flying even faster. Her knuckles are white, her breathing ragged. "Wait for me! I'm almost there too! Fuck, please wait!"
Wonyoung laughs, a wild, breathless sound. "Hurry up then, Sullyoonie! Can't hold back much longer!" She leans further onto Karina, her weight pressing down as she continues her relentless ride, her pussy squeezing your cock with punishing intensity. She continues to squeeze Karina’s breast like it’s putty in her hand, twisting the nipple until Karina gasps sharply. "Feel that, Jimin?" Wonyoung taunts breathlessly between moans. "Feel how good he is? Feel what you missed out on because you were too scared?"
Karina just whimpers, her own fingers moving faster between her legs now, chasing her own release despite the humiliation.
"Almost... almost..." Wonyoung pants.
"Fuck... me too... gonna... cum!" Yuna gasps against your mouth.
Then, something shifts. Wonyoung reaches out, her hand finding Yuna's. Their fingers lace together tightly, a strange moment of connection amidst the chaos. They look at each other, eyes locked, faces flushed and identical masks of impending ecstasy.
"Now?" Yuna mouths silently.
Wonyoung nods curtly, then her eyes flick down to you, still filled with that cruel amusement even as she's about to lose control. "Look at you," she spits out between pants. "Just a fucking pole for us to ride. A mouth for us to use. Pathetic little freak, letting us do whatever we want to you." Her hips slam down one last time. "Good boy!"
"WAIT!" Sullyoon screams.
But it's too late.
Wonyoung throws her head back, a raw, guttural scream tearing from her throat as her orgasm crashes over her. Her inner walls clamp down on your cock hard, pulsing violently, milking you intensely. Simultaneously, Yuna lets out a high-pitched wail against your mouth, her hips spasming uncontrollably as she comes hard, her juices flooding your tongue, your throat, spilling down your chin. Sullyoon shrieks in frustration and pleasure as she finally tips over the edge milliseconds later, her body convulsing, fingers still buried inside herself.
Only Karina is silent, her hand stilled between her legs, watching the other three completely fall apart with wide, almost fearful eyes.
It takes a long moment for the intensity to subside. Wonyoung slowly, shakily, lifts herself off your still-throbbing cock. Her legs are trembling, her breath coming in harsh gasps. She looks utterly wrecked, but supremely satisfied. Yuna collapses forward onto your chest, panting, leaving your face completely soaked in her slick, sticky arousal, her scent clinging to you. Sullyoon curls into a ball on the bed, whimpering softly, spent.
Wonyoung recovers first, of course. She pushes her sweat-soaked hair back from her face and glares down at you, her usual imperious expression returning, though her flushed cheeks and slightly trembling hands betray the intensity of her orgasm.
"Well," she says, voice still a little shaky but regaining its commanding tone. She kicks your thigh lightly, not hard, just a dismissive nudge. "You were... adequate. As a piece of equipment." She looks you up and down. "You should thank us, you know. For even bothering to use you. Giving a little freak like you this kind of attention."
Your head is spinning. Your face is covered in Yuna’s juices. Your cock aches. Humiliation and arousal are waging a war inside you. But faced with Wonyoung’s unwavering command, the ingrained response kicks in.
"T-thank you," you stammer out. "Thank you... for using me."
Wonyoung gives a curt nod of satisfaction. Sullyoon, seemingly recovered, stirs beside you. She sits up slowly, her eyes landing on your face, still glistening wet. A slow, slightly dazed smile spreads across her lips.
"Hey, you're all messy," Sullyoon says softly. She crawls closer, leaning down towards your face. "Don't worry. I'll clean you up."
Before you can react, her tongue flicks out, tentatively licking at the sticky wetness on your cheek; Yuna's juices. She hums softly, seeming to enjoy the taste.
Yuna sees what Sullyoon is doing, and bursts into delighted giggles. "Yah! Sullyoon-ah!" she exclaims, reaching over and giving Sullyoon's bare ass a sharp, playful slap. "You little slut! Cleaning up after me already? So eager."
Sullyoon jumps at the slap, blushing furiously but giggling too as she continues to lick your face clean, her tongue surprisingly thorough.
Wonyoung’s chest rises and falls slow but heavy as she catches her breath, cheeks still flushed. She waves a hand lazily and snaps:
“Yuna. Water.”
Yuna’s already halfway up like she was waiting for the command, a little dazed but obedient, disappearing toward the suite’s kitchenette. You’re still on your back, cock slick and half-hard, twitching like it knows more’s coming.
Behind you, Karina’s voice pipes up, almost sheepish.
“Is it my turn now?”
Wonyoung tilts her head, pouting, turning with faux sweetness dripping from every syllable.
“Aww… Is our little Karina super horny right now?” She steps toward her slowly, arms crossed under her chest, tilting her head.
Karina nods, almost embarrassed. “Yeah.”
“You must be fucking insane,” Wonyoung purrs, biting her bottom lip, “to wanna feel that thing inside your pretty little pussy.” Her hand gestures lazily at your cock, still shiny with Wonyoung's Juices. “That thing you ran away from, remember? Screaming, even.”
Karina swallows hard and nods again. “I know… I was dumb…”
Wonyoung chuckles, low and wicked. “C’mere.”
Karina obeys instantly, stepping forward like she’s being summoned by a queen (which, yeah, she is). Wonyoung grabs her by the waist and pulls her in, lips crashing into hers. There’s hunger in it. Desperation. Karina clings to her, arms wrapping around her back as their tongues tangle and slide together.
Wonyoung’s hands move with zero shame, cupping Karina’s tits, squeezing hard, like she can’t help herself. The moan Karina lets out is real, shaky, needy.
“Mmm,” Wonyoung hums against her mouth. “Your mouth’s a lot more useful when it’s busy kissing than when it’s lying to me.”
Karina pulls back, blinking. “It wasn’t a—”
But Wonyoung shuts her up with a single finger pressed to her lips, eyes narrow.
“Shhh.”
Then kisses her again, harder this time. Rough. Like she’s marking her.
Yuna comes back into the room holding the glass of water like a dutiful maid, handing it over. Wonyoung grabs it, downs it in a few gulps, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
“Okay. I’m good now.”
She turns back to Karina, tossing the empty glass somewhere on the carpet without looking. Her smile sharpens.
“Take off your panties.”
Karina's hands are already on the hem of her panties before Wonyoung even finishes the sentence. She kicks them off, a little clumsy, cheeks red but thighs pressed together, as if she’s trying to hide how wet she already is.
Wonyoung doesn’t even look at her for long. She turns her gaze to you and Sullyoon, still tangled together.
“Well, looks like you two are having fun.”
Sullyoon giggles, brushing hair behind her ear, resting her hand on your chest.
“He’s cute.”
Wonyoung’s face shifts immediately, stern.
“Don’t fucking treat it like a person,” she says, voice cold. “It’s a toy. Just a fucktoy. You don’t call your vibrator cute, do you?”
Sullyoon straightens up a little, nodding quickly.
“No. Right.”
Wonyoung smirks and walks over to the edge of the bed.
“Since you two already warmed it up, now it’s your turn to ride it, babe.”
Sullyoon doesn’t hesitate. She stretches out on her back right beside you, her eyes locked on yours. You look down at her and, fuck, she’s a masterpiece.
Long, flawless legs, skin pale and creamy, like she’s carved from glass and silk. Her legs are spread for you already, thick thighs leading up to plush hips that move slightly like she’s getting comfortable, preparing herself. There’s a little sheen between them, already wet, already throbbing.
Her torso is slim, but her curves are unreal, that perfect hourglass drawn to scale, with soft perky tits rising and falling with her breath, nipples stiff from arousal. Her eyes look up at you like she knows exactly what you are: just something to make her cum; and it makes your cock pulse hard all over again.
You’re climbing over her, lining up, and—
“Wait!” Karina whines from the side, still bottomless, fists clenched at her sides. “I thought it was my turn…”
Wonyoung doesn’t even look at her at first. Then she steps up, grabs Karina by the cheeks and squishes her face like a child being scolded.
“Aww, poor baby,” she mocks. “Thinking she gets what she wants.”
Karina huffs, pouting against Wonyoung’s grip. “I—”
“You don’t get to talk right now,” Wonyoung cuts in sharply, still holding her by the face. Then her expression softens slightly, eyes flicking toward Yuna, who’s just watching silently, smiling.
“Go open the drawer.”
Yuna nods and turns immediately, heading toward the bedside cabinet with a knowing look.
Wonyoung lets go of Karina’s face and turns back to the bed.
“Go on. Fuck her.”
Your hands plant on the bed on either side of Sullyoon’s head. She’s already got her knees up, heels digging into the mattress, guiding your hips toward her with her legs. You feel her hand grip your cock and guide it down between her legs, slick heat greeting the tip. She rubs you along her folds once, then twice, then lines you up. You push.
She lets out a low moan, head tilting back.
“God, you’re fucking big…”
You keep pressing in. Her pussy stretches around you, velvet heat swallowing you inch by inch, and she takes it all without even flinching, like she’s built for this. Her back arches slightly, tits rising toward your chest, and her mouth opens, breath catching.
“Fuck yes…”
From the corner of your eye, Wonyoung is still standing over Karina, whispering something into her ear while her fingers toy with one of her nipples. But you don’t get to look for long because Sullyoon pulls you down by the neck, her thighs trembling a little around your waist, and whispers against your lips:
“Go easy, okay?”
You nod, leaning down, brushing your lips over her cheek. “I promise.”
That makes her smile, and she reaches for your hands, guiding them down to her hips. You shift your weight, angle your hips, the head of your cock dragging along her wet folds. She’s soaked, pussy creamy from being teased and fingered, and when you start to push in slow—god—she tightens around you immediately.
“Oh my god… you’re thick… this cock is a fucking weapon.”
Her fingers dig into your arms, breathing fast now. “It’s the biggest I’ve ever… fuuuck, go slow, please, go slow…”
You don’t even need the reminder. She’s gripping you like a fist, squeezing you inch by inch as you sink deeper, her walls fluttering like she’s already close from just the stretch alone. You pause halfway in, hips twitching with restraint, watching her face melt into something caught between pain and pure fucking pleasure.
“I got you,” you murmur, stroking her side, kissing her collarbone. "If you want me to stop, just say so.”
Meanwhile, behind you, Yuna walks back in, holding a thick black anal plug in one hand and a shiny silver tube of lube in the other. Her smile is too wide, too excited. Karina sees her and visibly tenses, backing half a step toward the couch.
“Wait… what���s that for?” Karina’s voice is shaky, eyes locked on the plug like it’s going to jump at her.
Wonyoung grins like a devil in a model's body. “If you wanna feel cock today, you’re gonna need to offer up that cute little ass.”
Karina stammers, blinking. “I’ve… I’ve never done that…”
“I know,” Wonyoung says calmly, stepping forward. “Now get on all fours.”
Karina’s mouth opens like she’s about to argue, but she hesitates too long.
“Right now,” Wonyoung snaps. “Or get the fuck out.”
Silence. Then Karina slowly turns, face red, and lowers herself to her knees. She looks humiliated, turned on, afraid (everything Wonyoung seems to love). Her thick thighs ripple as she gets into position, ass high, cheeks clenched, legs trembling slightly.
Yuna kneels behind her and pats her ass once, affectionate. “You’re gonna love it,” she says softly. “It’s like… my favorite.”
Wonyoung flicks her wrist. “Prep her.”
Yuna grins. “Can I lick it first?”
Wonyoung rolls her eyes. “Yes. Obviously.”
Yuna wastes zero time. She spreads Karina’s cheeks, leans in, and starts to lick, slow broad strokes at first, then narrowing in, teasing her little hole with the tip of her tongue. Karina whimpers, cheeks burning red as she hides her face in her arms.
Meanwhile, Wonyoung strolls back to you and Sullyoon, casually watching as you slowly roll your hips forward again, burying a little more of yourself inside her. Sullyoon’s thighs shake, her hands fisting in the sheets now, every breath a moan.
Wonyoung stands beside the bed, arms crossed, smirking.
“Is she enjoying it?” she asks.
Sullyoon moans louder. “Yes… oh fuck yes, Wony… it’s fantastic…”
Wonyoung tsks. “Too slow.”
Before you can react, she slaps your ass, sharp and loud, fingers leaving a sting that burns hot through your skin.
“Faster,” she commands.
You grunt, your body reacting without hesitation. You grip Sullyoon tighter and start thrusting harder, deeper, the slow roll of your hips turning into something more brutal, more rhythmic. She cries out, legs locking tighter around you.
“Aaah—fuck-fuck, I can't, it's too big!”
Wonyoung laughs like she’s at a party, delighted, stepping back to watch your hips hammer into Sullyoon, her body bouncing under you, moans pouring out of her with every thrust. She grabs one of Sullyoon’s tits, squeezing it roughly, pinching the nipple until Sullyoon arches off the bed.
“Much better,” Wonyoung says, grinning. “Now that’s how you use a toy.”
Behind you, Karina’s moaning too. Muffled and high-pitched. Yuna’s fingers are buried between her cheeks, tongue still teasing. The plug rests beside them on the bed, gleaming, waiting for its turn. Karina’s legs are trembling harder now, her ass slick, her breathing short and fast. But Wonyoung’s eyes are on you. On your cock driving into Sullyoon like you’re trying to fuck the shape of her pussy into your hips, her moans turning ragged and desperate, tears starting to gather in the corners of her eyes as the pleasure crashes through her.
Karina’s face is buried in her forearms, but her back is arched high, thighs pressed together as tightly as they can be with Yuna nestled between them. She keeps letting out these soft, confused little gasps, tiny moans like she doesn’t know what her body is doing or why it’s starting to like it. Her ass cheeks twitch every time Yuna’s tongue flattens out and drags upward, slow and wet, lingering at her tight rim before she flicks the tip of her tongue over it again. Yuna hums like she’s savoring something sweet, both hands spreading Karina’s cheeks apart like she’s exposing a gift, holding her wide while she works her mouth.
“Mmh, you taste so good…” Yuna breathes, kissing the spot softly before swirling her tongue around again. “God, your little asshole’s clenching like it’s trying to kiss me.”
Karina’s breath hitches. “It—it feels weird…”
Yuna giggles into her skin. “Weird’s just code for new. Sensitive, huh?”
Karina nods fast, her voice muffled. “Yeah—yes, I—it’s really sensitive, I d-don’t know if I—”
“Shhh,” Yuna whispers against her. “Let it happen. You’ll like it. I promise.”
She presses her tongue flat again, dragging it in a circle this time, slow and teasing. Karina jolts, her hips shaking, one of her hands clutching at the sheets.
“I-it tickles—oh my god…”
From the bed, your eyes flicker toward them, and the image hits like a shot of lust straight to your chest: Yuna's pretty face buried between Karina’s shaking thighs, her mouth wet, eyes half-lidded with focus while she laps at her like she’s starving. Karina’s whole body shudders again, her back arching deeper. Her hole’s glistening now, twitching and helpless while Yuna traces it with delicate, skilled strokes.
And still, you’re balls-deep in Sullyoon.
She’s so tight you swear you’re being milked. Every thrust in makes her body tremble under yours, her fingers tangled in the sheets, jaw slack from the pleasure stretching her open. You go back to fucking her slowly, just like she asked, deep, controlled strokes, feeling her clench every time you bottom out, It's the only way for you not to cum because her pussy is impossible good, but the moans that keep spilling from her lips are fucking addictive, and you have to resist the urge to sink your entire cock into her pussy. Her moana are soft at first, then louder, sharper, her voice cracking as she starts pushing her hips up to meet yours, wanting more. Your hands tighten on her waist, and you pull back before thrusting in again, the sound of it wet and obscene, skin on skin. Her eyes are rolling back, and you’re getting lost in it. The heat, the pressure, the way her pussy grips you like it’s desperate to keep you inside.
From beside the bed, Wonyoung watches everything.
She’s seated now, legs crossed elegantly, but her eyes are burning with attention. Her lips curl into a smirk when she sees how hard you’re holding back, how tight your jaw is as you fight the urge to rail Sullyoon into the mattress.
“You’re being too gentle again,” she says, voice calm, but there’s that edge again, that dominance that makes your cock twitch even deeper inside Sullyoon.
You look at her, sweat starting to bead at your forehead. “She asked me to—”
“I didn’t ask what she said,” Wonyoung cuts you off. She leans forward, her gaze sharp. “Put your hand on her throat.”
Your heart skips. Sullyoon hears it too, she shivers under you, her pussy tightening, her voice going breathless.
“D-Do it,” she whispers.
You reach out, slow, sliding your hand up from her chest to her neck. She tilts her head back, offering herself up, your fingers curl around her throat, gentle but firm, and the way her whole body reacts, hips lifting to press you deeper, a high moan escaping her lips, is fucking unreal. Wonyoung smiles like a queen watching a jester perform on command.
“Better.”
You start moving again, your thrusts picking up pace, dragging your cock deep into Sullyoon while your hand tightens slightly around her throat. She whines, her fingers scrabbling at your arms, her eyes fluttering half-shut as her breathing turns into high, broken gasps. Her back arches, tits brushing against your chest, nipples stiff and flushed from the friction.
“I—ah—fuck, I can feel it in my stomach…”
“You love it,” Wonyoung says, watching her with hungry eyes. “Say it.”
“I l-love it—fuck, I love it—it’s s-so fucking thick, it’s splitting me—”
You groan, head dipping to kiss her neck, tongue tracing her pulse, your hips slamming into hers with more weight now, every thrust deep enough to make the bed creak.
Behind you, Yuna’s still at it. She’s licking deeper now, more focused, her thumbs spreading Karina’s cheeks wider so her tongue can press closer, firmer. Karina’s hips keep jerking away on instinct, but Yuna doesn’t let her go anywhere.
“Stop running,” Yuna murmurs. “Just let me make you feel good…”
Karina whimpers. “Y-Yuna—fuck—it’s—it’s so much, I—I don’t know if—”
“Just wait till I lube you up, baby,” Yuna says sweetly, biting down gently on the soft flesh of her ass. “Then we’ll really see how much you can take.”
She picks up the bottle finally, uncapping it with a pop, and squeezes some of the cold gel onto her fingers. But she doesn’t rush it. She dips one finger between Karina’s cheeks, rubbing slow, spreading the lube around the tight entrance while Karina trembles and gasps with every little push and tease.
Wonyoung turns to glance over her shoulder, watching Karina squirm.
“She better be ready soon,” she says lazily. “Or I’m plugging her dry.”
Karina moans out loud at that, almost in panic. “N-no, wait, I—I’ll try, I’m trying—”
“Then fucking stay still, slut!” Wonyoung snaps.
Yuna grins and adds a second finger, the lube making slick noises as she circles the rim, pushing gently but insistently.
“She’s gonna be ready,” Yuna promises. “This hole’s too cute to go to waste.”
Wonyoung turns back to you, eyes raking down your body, then landing on where your cock disappears into Sullyoon again and again.
“Keep that pace. Don’t let her cum yet. She doesn’t get to finish until I say so.”
You nod, not trusting your voice, focused on Sullyoon’s flushed face, the way she looks up at you like she’s drowning in every inch you give her. She bites her lip hard, her thighs twitching around your waist.
“Don’t stop,” she breathes. “Please don’t fucking stop…”
Yuna’s fingers glisten with lube as she finally stops teasing and starts pushing one inside Karina. Karina jolts forward with a gasp, her ass still high, thighs shaking. She wasn’t ready for how it’d feel (wet and slick, yes, but so deliberate). Yuna’s finger presses slow but firm, the lube squelching audibly as it disappears past the tight rim. Karina clenches around it, hips trying to buck away, but Yuna just holds her there, one hand gripping her waist.
“Holy shit,” Karina breathes. “It’s… f-fuck, it’s going in…”
Yuna smiles against her back. “Of course it is, babe. That hole’s got potential.”
Karina groans through her teeth, forehead pressed to her forearms again. “It’s so fucking weird, I—ah—shit, it’s burning a little—”
“That’s just the stretch. You’ll love it once it’s open,” Yuna coos, sliding her finger deeper until she’s knuckle-deep. “Tight as hell, though… God. Your ass is starving.”
Karina lets out a choked noise, somewhere between a moan and a whimper, and her legs twitch like she’s trying to stay still, even as her body reacts instinctively to the invasion.
“Stop clenching so much,” Yuna murmurs, moving her finger in shallow thrusts. “Let me in, Karina.”
Wonyoung, lounging beside the bed with her legs crossed and a slight sheen of sweat on her collarbones, doesn’t even look back at them.
“She’ll stop fighting it once the second finger goes in,” she mutters, eyes locked on you.
She points at Sullyoon’s trembling body beneath you, voice smooth but sharp:
“Bury it. All the way in. Now.”
You lock eyes with Sullyoon, her face flushed, eyes glassy, breath trembling, and she nods once, barely able to speak.
“Do it,” she whispers.
You shift your weight, grab her hips tighter, and push forward until your pelvis slams flush against her ass. Every thick, veiny inch of you is buried inside, and Sullyoon’s mouth drops open in a silent scream. Her eyes roll back immediately.
“OH MY FUHH—FUCK!!” she moans, her nails digging into your arms hard enough to draw blood. “It’s… all of it—fuck, I can feel it in my stomach, oh my god!”
Wonyoung lets out a quiet little laugh.
“She’s better like this,” she says, tilting her head. “More obedient. Tighter too, probably. Grip her neck again—tighter this time. Make my cute little slut cum.
You don’t hesitate. Your hand slides right back up, closing around Sullyoon’s throat, fingers pressing firmer now. Not choking her, but enough that she gasps and looks up at you with that fucked-out, submissive stare that sends blood rushing to your cock again.
Her voice comes out hoarse. “Harder, babe… please…”
You hold her there and start fucking her deep, slow, brutal strokes that make her tits bounce and her pussy gush around you. Every thrust hits her cervix like a drumbeat, and the little choking moans spilling out of her just egg you on. And behind you, Karina’s breathing has gone rapid and high-pitched. Yuna has two fingers in her now, both slick with lube, working them in and out in slow, deliberate pumps that have Karina rocking back against her without even realizing it.
“F-fuck, Yuna—stop, I-I’m gonna—gonna cum if you keep—fuck!” Karina moans, biting her own hand.
Yuna leans in, lips brushing Karina’s ear, breath hot. “Cum from a finger in your ass? That’s so fucking cute.” Karina’s whole body clenches, her ass twitching as Yuna scissors her fingers, stretching her open more with each motion. “You’re doing good, baby,” Yuna hums. “Almost ready…”
Wonyoung glances back now, amused. “Is the brat loosened up yet?”
Yuna smirks. “See for yourself.”
She pulls her fingers out slowly, the sound wet and filthy, then holds them up for Wonyoung to see: slick with lube and cream, glistening in the light. Karina’s still trembling on all fours, face buried, ass wet and twitching, her hole flexing involuntarily, stretched and needy. Wonyoung stands up, stretches, walks over like she owns the whole damn room (and she kind of does). She picks up the plug from the bed, weighing it in her hand, then crouches behind Karina.
Karina looks back, wide-eyed.
“Wait—wait, it’s big—fuck, I don’t know if I—”
Wonyoung slaps her ass hard enough to make her jolt. “You’re ready,” she says coldly. “Now stay still while I make you better.”
Yuna licks her fingers clean with a soft moan, then crouches back behind Karina like she’s settling into her favorite seat at a show. She plants her palms on Karina’s ass, spreading her cheeks wide, holding them apart so her tight, glistening little hole is fully exposed, twitching, raw and shining with lube and slick from her own juices. Karina’s breath stutters as she feels the air hit her, and her thighs shake like she might collapse, but Yuna keeps her wide, grinning like she’s already proud of the work they’ve done.
“Hold still, baby,” Yuna murmurs, her nails dimpling into Karina’s pale skin. “Let her give you your present.”
Wonyoung crouches low, plug in one hand, the lube-slicked tip already glistening under the soft lighting. She presses it right up against Karina’s hole, testing it. Karina gasps loud, her head lifting suddenly as her eyes fly open.
“Wait, wait, wait—f-fuck, Wonyoung, it’s big, I-I’m not ready, I—!”
Wonyoung doesn’t respond with words. She just applies pressure. The rounded head pushes inward, and Karina screams.
Her voice cracks like a sob, body lurching forward instinctively, but Yuna holds her in place with a grunt, gripping her hips like handlebars. Karina babbles through the pain, a slurry of panicked syllables and ragged breaths.
“Ah—ah—shit, oh my god, it’s too big, it’s too big—it burns—it fuckin’ burns!!”
“Then you shouldn’t have lied to me,” Wonyoung mutters, cool and detached, her hand steady as the thick plug stretches Karina wider with every slow, brutal inch. “You want cock, you get the punishment that comes first.”
Karina’s whole body trembles, ass clenched tight around the intruding plug, every inch sending more shockwaves of pain and humiliation through her. Her face is soaked with sweat already, lips parted in disbelief at how deep it’s going. Behind her, Yuna’s breath is hot, tongue flicking the edge of Karina’s ear as she leans over her back. “You sound so fucking hot like this,” she whispers. “You’re gonna be perfect once it’s all the way in. Such a good little plug slut.”
The scream Karina lets out next is sharp and raw, almost broken. You hear it, feel the vibration of it behind you like the air’s alive, and you’re still buried to the hilt in Sullyoon. Her legs are shaking around your hips, your hand’s still on her throat, and her pussy is pulsing, squeezing your cock like it’s trying to memorize it. The way Karina’s moaning next to her, screaming as she gets her ass opened, is fuel for Sullyoon. Her eyes roll back and her mouth drops open, chest rising and falling like she’s being devoured by the pleasure.
“I—I can’t—I can’t hold it!” she pants. “I’m gonna fucking cum—I swear—I can’t—oh my god kiss me, please, please kiss me, I wanna cum while you’re kissing me, I wanna feel your mouth when it hits—pleaseee!"
You don’t even hesitate. You lean down fast, your hand tightening on her throat just a little more as your mouth crashes into hers. Her lips are soft, wet, desperate. Her tongue meets yours immediately, greedy and wild, kissing you like she needs it more than air. The second your lips connect, she snaps. Her entire body tenses, heels digging into the bed, thighs clamping tight around your waist, and her pussy clamps down hard; a perfect vice, spasming and pulsing around your cock like she’s trying to pull you in even deeper. She lets out a high, shaking moan straight into your mouth, hands flying up to grab your face, kissing you harder, sloppier, while she cums in waves all over you. Your cock’s completely drenched now, soaked in her release, her body rocking beneath yours as the orgasm shakes through her like a storm, long and loud and so fucking hot you’re fighting every instinct not to unload inside her right there.
Wonyoung glances back, smirking, still pushing the plug deeper into Karina’s stretched hole with cruel precision. It’s almost fully in now, the thickest part parting Karina’s trembling rim, her voice hoarse from moaning and crying through the stretch.
“Look at that,” Wonyoung says, eyes on Karina but voice raised just enough to carry. “While you’re getting your tight little asshole split by a plug, Sullyoon’s over here creaming herself on cock like it’s the best day of her life.”
Karina sobs out a moan, too far gone to respond, just breathing raggedly while the final inch of the plug sinks in, slow and merciless.
“You jealous yet?” Wonyoung whispers near her ear. “You wanted this. You chose this. And now you get to be plugged up like a good little toy while someone else gets her guts rearranged.”
Yuna’s still holding Karina open, watching the plug disappear inside her with awe and glee.
“Almost there,” she says, licking her lips. “You’re taking it so well…”
Karina’s still panting into the mattress, arms trembling, her ass raised with the thick plug now buried deep inside, barely visible except for the slick base nestled between her swollen cheeks. Her eyes are glassy, cheeks streaked with a flush of sweat and tears, and her thighs are twitching from the slow, rhythmic throbbing inside her. She lifts her head slightly, voice weak but hopeful.
“S-So… what happens now?” Her words come out breathy, unsure. “Is it… is it my turn?”
Wonyoung doesn’t answer right away. She stands upright with a smug little stretch, licking the edge of her finger clean from guiding the plug in, her expression sharp with amusement. Then she lets out a dry, condescending chuckle.
“Not yet.” Karina blinks at her, blinking fast like she misheard. Wonyoung tilts her head, smiling cruelly. “Yuna hasn’t had a turn with that cock yet.”
Karina’s shoulders sag, and her face collapses into a tired, frustrated sigh. She lets her head fall back down onto her arms with a faint groan, too wrecked to protest more than that.
Yuna laughs, light, teasing, and smacks Karina’s ass again, right on the plug, making her yelp and jerk forward with a strangled moan.
“Be patient, princess,” Yuna grins. “You’ve already got a little friend stuffed in there to keep you busy. Don’t be greedy.”
Wonyoung shoots her a quick glance, neither amused nor annoyed, just sharp. Always sharp.
“Yuna,” she says flatly, “he’s ready.”
Yuna turns her head to you and waves a finger, grinning wide like a cat with cream on its tongue. “Come here, toy. Sit down. Edge of the bed.”
You obey immediately, there’s no part of your brain even pretending to fight it anymore. You climb off Sullyoon, who’s still panting and glowing from her orgasm, and move to the edge of the bed. Your thighs ache. Your cock is glistening with her slick, flushed dark, veiny, painfully hard. You sit down, muscles twitching from exertion, and look up as Yuna struts toward you. She turns around and backs herself up, settling her toned legs against yours, ass grazing your thigh, there’s a golden sheen of sweat clinging to her lower back and the curve of her ass cheeks glistening as she lowers herself onto you.
“You can touch me,” she says, glancing over her shoulder with a wink. “I’m not Wonyoung.”
Your hands rise instinctively, gripping her slim waist. She’s warm under your fingers, tight and toned. Yuna’s body is fucking unreal; lean but thick where it counts. Her waist is slim, but her hips flare out wide, ass plump and round with the kind of bounce that makes it impossible not to stare. Her thighs are powerful, soft over muscle, her skin is smooth, flawless, with that slight golden glow under the lights.
You squeeze her hips a little, breath catching in your throat.
“Fuck, you’re… perfect,” you mutter. “You’re fucking hot.”
Yuna giggles, rolling her hips back just enough to brush your cock against her folds.
“You know how to sweet talk a girl,” she purrs.
But Wonyoung’s voice slices in before you can say anything more.
“Stop talking to him like he matters.”
Yuna turns slightly, side-eyeing her with a sigh.
“Wonyoung…”
Wonyoung crosses her arms, eyes narrowing.
“He’s not your boyfriend. He’s not your friend. He’s a cock. A cumdump. A toy we’re borrowing for a good time, then tossing out.”
Yuna rolls her eyes, positioning your thick head right at her entrance, her slick folds gliding over it as she angles her hips.
“You’re so fucking cruel sometimes,” she mutters under her breath. “Let a bitch have one moment.”
And then she sinks down.
Your breath punches out of you like you’ve been hit. Her pussy is molten hot, wet, gripping the crown of your cock so tight you’re not even sure you’re going to get more than an inch in. She moans, sharp and rough, her hands bracing on your thighs.
“Jesus fucking fuck, it’s… it’s so big, holy shit—”
She pauses, knees shaking, muscles tense as she eases herself lower. Behind you, the mattress dips again as Sullyoon crawls back up, her skin flushed pink, hair a little messy, that dreamy post-orgasm look still painted across her face. But her eyes are focused on Karina now.
Karina hasn’t moved, still on all fours, ass stuffed, hair sticking to her cheeks, panting. Sullyoon leans in, wraps her arms around her waist gently from behind, pressing their bodies close.
“Hey,” Sullyoon whispers, brushing Karina’s sweaty hair off her cheek. “You okay?”
Karina nods slowly, leaning back into her friend’s touch.
“It hurts,” she says quietly, breath shivering. “But… not in a bad way.”
Sullyoon presses a soft kiss to her shoulder, then another to her neck.
“I’ll take care of you,” she promises, pulling Karina closer. Her arms wrap tighter, soothing. “You were so brave.”
Karina’s lips part to answer, but Sullyoon’s already leaning in again, this time pressing her mouth to Karina’s. Their kiss is gentle, slow, nothing like the desperation you’ve been drowning in all night. Their tongues meet, slow and lazy, tasting each other with softness that's somehow kind of hot. But Sullyoon’s hand starts to slide down Karina’s belly, grazing over her trembling thighs, fingertips dancing toward her pussy.
“Let me help you feel good,” she murmurs, her fingers slide between Karina’s legs, just brushing her slick folds—
“Stop right there.”
Wonyoung’s voice is sharp, cold steel. Both girls freeze. She strides over, her eyes locked on Sullyoon like a schoolteacher catching someone cheating. “She doesn’t get help,” Wonyoung says, grabbing Sullyoon’s wrist and pulling her hand away. “She didn’t earn it. Let her sit with the plug for a while.”
Sullyoon swallows, pulling her hands back respectfully, returning to holding Karina with just arms and lips now, keeping her warm but not touching further. Karina sighs into her mouth, kissing her again slowly, eyes fluttering closed. Meanwhile, Yuna’s moaning as she forces another inch of you inside her. Her pussy is soaking, clenching like crazy, her breath stuttering as she lowers herself little by little, adjusting with every thick ridge you press past her walls.
“Goddamn,” she gasps, laughing breathlessly. “It’s like—I don’t even—fuck, how do you carry this around without passing out?”
You grip her waist tighter, watching her ass ripple as she eases further down. Her thighs flex with every movement, sweat rolling down her spine as she moans louder.
“You’re so tight,” you groan, digging your fingers into her hips.
“Yeah?” she pants, twisting her hips to get the angle right. “Well, this pussy doesn’t play, baby.” Then she gasps sharp, eyes wide. “Shit! There we go—fuck—there it is—!”
She finally bottoms out, her ass slapping against your lap, every inch of your cock buried in her slick, clenching heat. She leans forward, chest heaving, moaning low in her throat like she’s drunk on it.
“Oh my god,” she laughs, trembling. “It’s inside. It’s fucking in.”
And from across the room, Wonyoung watches with a satisfied little smile, voice cutting clean through the soft gasps and stifled kisses. “Good. Now ride him.” Then, to Karina, still squirming in Sullyoon’s arms: “Take notes. You’re next.”
Yuna starts to move with that kind of self-aware sensuality that makes your brain turn to soup. Her hips roll in slow, hypnotic circles as she grinds her soaked pussy down on your cock, using her entire body like she’s showing it off just for you, every shift, every drag of her slick walls over your length is deliberate. She knows how tight she is, how good she feels, and she’s savoring every reaction you can’t hide. You’re still seated at the edge of the bed, thighs flexed, hands gripping her waist like your life depends on it, and she just rides, slow and deep, her ass clapping lightly against your lap with each bounce, like a steady rhythm meant to tease.
She leans back against you, pressing her spine to your chest, arms raised, looping her hands around your neck while her breath rolls out in these soft little gasps. “Mmm… you like that?” she purrs, grinding down hard and slow again, making your cock throb inside her. “So deep… so fucking thick…”
Your fingers twitch on her hips. You’re trying so hard not to snap, not to grab her and slam her down on you until she screams, not to break that rhythm, even though your cock is pulsing with the need to unload.
Sullyoon watches from the bed, her head tilted as she strokes Karina’s hair gently, the other girl now slumped in her lap, the plug still buried deep in her ass, legs slightly parted. Karina’s out of breath, still flushed and shivering, lips swollen from their kissing. Sullyoon’s gaze flicks from Yuna’s bouncing hips back to you, a grin tugging at her mouth.
“You know,” she says, softly but loud enough for all to hear, “he deserves some fucking credit for not blowing already.”
Wonyoung raises an eyebrow, arms crossed. She doesn’t interrupt, just watches. Yuna chuckles breathlessly as she grinds her hips again, this time harder, clenching on your cock as she lifts and sinks, her thighs flexing with every controlled motion. “Mmm, right? He’s being such a good boy,” she coos, rolling her hips, her voice dipping to a low murmur. “Holding back like that, keeping it in. Such good control…”
She pauses, sitting all the way down on you again, then leans forward with a grin, twisting to look at your face. Her hand slides down, past your stomach, and cups your balls through the base of her pussy. The squeeze is careful but firm, her fingers exploring the weight of them as her grin widens.
“Shit,” she says under her breath. “These are so full. They feel heavy as fuck.” She lifts her hips a little, stroking your length from the inside with her muscles, then settles back down with a wet slap, her ass jiggling from the impact. “There’s probably a lot in there by now,” she teases. “You’ve been holding it in through Sullyoon riding you, Karina moaning with a plug stuffed in her ass, me grinding your cock like it’s my job… damn, when you finally blow, it’s gonna be fucking insane, isn’t it?”
You grunt, tightening your grip on her waist, your abs flexing from the effort it takes not to cum right then and there. Every time she lifts off you, your cock throbs in the air, aching for release. When she slides back down, slow and snug, your balls tighten under her hand. She keeps touching them, rolling them in her palm as she rocks her hips in slow figure-eights, her walls clenching rhythmically around your shaft. You can barely breathe. Every second she draws it out is another second closer to your breaking point.
Behind her, Karina moans faintly, still flushed, her voice muffled against Sullyoon’s shoulder. Sullyoon’s fingers stroke her back now, soothing, her eyes watching Yuna like she’s impressed. She laughs lightly.
“I think he’s gonna pass out if you keep doing that,” she says.
Yuna grins and kisses your neck, her lips soft and teasing. “Not yet,” she whispers. “He hasn’t earned it yet.”
Yuna’s movements shift from teasing to needy, the playfulness in her hips giving way to urgency. She's been riding you for minutes that feel like hours, slow and deep, drawing out every drop of pleasure like it’s foreplay for herself. But it’s not. Her rhythm’s breaking. Her thighs start trembling every time she lifts herself off your cock, her breath catching in her throat with these sharp little gasps, lips parted and swollen, chest heaving against her bra. You feel her pussy start to pulse around you; tightening and fluttering with every downward drop, every slap of her ass against your thighs… her body chasing something she’s trying to hold off, but it’s not working anymore.
She lets out a louder moan, sharp and cracking.
“F-fuck… I’m close… fuck, I’m so close…”
She doesn’t stop riding you, if anything, she moves faster, grinding her clit against your pelvis with every bounce, her hands grabbing onto your shoulders now, nails biting into your skin for leverage. Her voice trembles when she speaks again, a whisper at first, then louder, breathless and wild.
“Don’t hold back, don’t fucking hold back—fuck me—fuck me hard—make me cum!”
Fuck, that's all you wanted to hear.
Your fingers clamp down on her waist, and you slam her down onto your cock, hard, your hips jerking upward at the same time, bottoming out deep inside her with a wet, brutal smack. She screams (a real one) choked and high, head snapping back as her pussy clamps down on you like a vice. You don’t give her time to breathe. You start fucking her like your brain’s gone, your hands guiding her body up and down on your cock, her thighs clapping against your hips, the bed frame groaning from the weight of your thrusts. It’s all messy now, no rhythm, just raw need, your cock punching into her soaked, fluttering cunt again and again, harder each time. Yuna’s moans are desperate now. Loud, cracked, real. She slams her palm between her legs, fingers going straight to her clit, rubbing fast and sloppy, hips bucking into her own hand, mouth falling open with every spasm of pleasure that racks her body.
“Oh god—oh my fucking god—yes—right there—right there—don’t stop, don’t fucking stop!!!”
She’s babbling, voice broken, almost sobbing from how deep you’re buried inside her. Her whole body is tight, coiled like a spring, legs twitching, her stomach tensing with every thrust, her clit swollen and soaked from how hard she’s been rubbing. Wonyoung steps forward slowly, eyes locked on the scene, and her voice is like a whip crack.
“Make her cum. Now.”
You don’t need to be told twice. You slam her down again, burying every thick inch into her, your grip bruising tight as your cock throbs inside her fluttering heat. Yuna’s hand is a blur between her legs, her voice pitching into a scream.
“I’m cumming—I’m fucking cumming—fuck, it’s too much—”
Her entire body goes stiff in your lap. Then it hits.
She explodes with a scream, shaking violently as the orgasm overtakes her, every muscle locking up. Her pussy grips you like it’s trying to crush you, pulsing and spasming around your cock as waves of heat roll through her core. Her legs kick out, her back arches, and she clings to your shoulders like she’s drowning. Her thighs spasm against your hips, her fingers digging into your chest now, nails scraping down your skin.
You hold her there, not moving anymore, just feeling her ride the wave, her cunt milking you in hard, rhythmic squeezes. She keeps twitching, little cries spilling from her lips as she rides every aftershock, her pussy making these messy, obscene noises with every throb, her clit still pulsing from the overload.
“Fuck, fuck, fuuuck—” she gasps, collapsing forward against you, face buried in your neck, breath ragged, sweat pouring down her back. You wrap your arms around her, holding her close while she trembles and whimpers against your skin. It takes a full minute for her to calm down, her thighs still twitching, her chest rising and falling like she just ran a marathon.
Then Wonyoung clears her throat.
“That’s enough,” she says flatly.
Yuna groans in protest but slowly lifts herself off your cock, her legs shaking under her weight, your cock sliding free with a wet, messy squelch, still rock-hard and soaked in her cum. She stumbles over to the bed, collapsing onto it face-down with a heavy exhale, ass still wobbling from the force of the ride.
Sullyoon leans over with a little grin, raises her hand, and smacks her ass hard, right over the reddened skin. Revenge. The sound echoes, and Yuna yelps, jolting slightly.
“Damn, Yuna,” Sullyoon giggles. “You rode him like a fucking demon.”
Yuna mumbles something into the mattress, breathless and ruined, one hand reaching back to rub her sore cheek.
“Shut up and gimme five minutes…”
Wonyoung just smirks and turns to Karina.
“Now. Your turn. Get back on all fours.”
Karina obeys without speaking. Her knees sink into the mattress, palms bracing in front of her as she positions herself, ass high, head down, breathing slow and shaky. She doesn’t look back. Wonyoung steps forward without a word, crouching behind her, and places her hand on the base of the plug. Karina whines at the touch alone, thighs twitching inward.
“Be still.”
Karina nods and braces.
Wonyoung slides the plug out in one smooth, slow pull. Karina gasps, her back arches, a broken moan ripping from her throat as her rim stretches wide then closes again, twitching, raw and gaping. Slick lube coats the plug’s shaft, creamy and glistening, and Wonyoung sets it down with a little smirk, running her fingers lightly along Karina’s ass just to watch her shiver.
“You were obedient,” Wonyoung says, almost fond. “You stayed plugged like a good girl. You followed every fucking order.”
Karina’s breath catches, hope flickering in her voice. “So I can… finally…?”
Wonyoung smiles. “Yes.” She turns her head toward you and snaps her fingers. “Come here, freak. She’s earned her reward.”
You’re already moving before she finishes the sentence. You’re still hard, aching, throbbing, and you can barely think through it, but the tension in the room makes you slow your steps.
“But,” Wonyoung says, raising her voice just enough to stop you in your tracks, “it’s going in her ass.”
Karina’s entire body stiffens. Her head whips around, wide-eyed, lips parting in stunned disbelief. “W-what…?”
Wonyoung steps to the side, folding her arms again. “If you want to cum tonight, it’s going to be on his cock—in your ass.”
Karina’s voice cracks. “But—it’ll hurt—fuck, I’ve never—Wonyoung, please, that’s—”
“I didn’t ask,” Wonyoung cuts her off coldly. “You can take it. You want your orgasm? Then shut the fuck up and take what you’re given.”
Yuna lets out a delighted little gasp, grinning like Christmas came early. “Oh my god, this is gonna be so good…”
Sullyoon, already on the bed beside her, frowns faintly, brushing a hand over Karina’s shoulder. “You don’t have to if—”
“She’s doing it,” Wonyoung says, turning her glare on Sullyoon, who backs off immediately, hands up in surrender. Karina swallows hard, her face still red, eyes darting between the three of you, and then, finally, she nods. Hesitant. Reluctant. But nodding.
“I’ll do it…” she says quietly, glancing at you. “But please—go slow…”
You step closer, gently resting your hand on her back, fingers brushing up her spine.
“I will,” you whisper. “I promise.”
Wonyoung clicks her tongue.
“He doesn’t make the rules,” she mutters. “But yes—slow, obviously. Now do your fucking job.”
You nod once and slide your hand down Karina’s lower back, palm splayed over the dip just above her ass. Her body tenses, breath hitching at your touch, but she doesn’t pull away. She’s trembling, terrified and aroused all at once, and your stomach knots in that strange way again, torn between lust and something dangerously close to care.
Yuna’s suddenly right beside you, grinning, holding the bottle of lube in one hand.
“Here,” she says cheerfully, popping the cap and squeezing a generous line along your cock. It’s cold, shocking against your skin, but you grunt as she smears it in with her hand, slow and thorough. “We’ll make sure she’s nice and slick.”
Then she moves behind Karina, spreading her cheeks again with one hand, and pours more lube directly onto her twitching hole.
Karina whimpers.
“Gotta help her too,” Yuna says, rubbing it in with two fingers, slow circles that make Karina gasp and moan. “Poor baby’s so tight…”
Once everything’s coated, Yuna pats your cock and steps back, clapping her hands. “Alright, stud. She’s ready.”
You grip your shaft, position yourself, and slide forward, just the tip pressing against her entrance. The resistance is immediate. Hot and tight and trembling. Karina sucks in a breath through clenched teeth. You pause, lean down, whisper against her ear.
“Tell me if it’s too much.”
She nods without looking up. “Just… slow. Please…”
You push forward a little. Even just the head feels like a violation. Her body shudders, a loud moan breaking from her lips, half pain, half disbelief.
“Oh—oh fuck! it’s huge!”
You stop again, one hand on her hip, the other stroking her back. You wait for her to breathe, to settle. Then you start again. Millimeter by millimeter, your cock stretches her open, and Karina whines through her teeth, fists clenching the sheets, toes curling. Her thighs are soaked, slick drips down the insides of her legs, proof that pain and arousal have long since blurred. Every few seconds, you stop, just long enough for her to catch her breath, before you push a little deeper.
“God,” Sullyoon whispers from behind, hugging a pillow to her chest, eyes wide. “He’s really doing it…”
Yuna sits beside her, fascinated. “Look at her hole,” she says gleefully. “It’s fucking swallowing him.”
Karina cries out again as another inch slips in.
“F-fuck, it’s—too big—please—”
“You’re doing amazing,” you murmur, and you mean it. “Just a little more…”
Her body clamps down, squeezing you like it’s trying to push you out and pull you in at the same time. You slow down again, your cock slick and throbbing, the pressure unbelievable, her body wrapping around you tighter than anything you’ve ever felt.
Wonyoung watches it all from the corner of the bed, arms crossed, lips curled into a quiet, satisfied smile.
“That’s it,” she purrs. “Stretch her out. She’ll never forget it.”
Karina’s moans rise in pitch, her body soaked with sweat now, ass flushed and stretched, you're still halfway in, cock glistening with lube and Karina’s juices, your hands gripping her hips like she’ll drift away if you let go. Her body is trembling under you: legs shaking, back arched, her forehead pressed to the sheets. Her moans come in shaky bursts, broken syllables spilling from her lips between gasps. You’re going slow (agonizingly slow) but even that feels like too much for her. The pressure is overwhelming. The stretch makes her wince with every inch, but she hasn’t told you to stop yet, and her soaked thighs betray the truth: she’s aching for it, terrified of it, and turned on beyond words.
You keep your pace steady, pushing in another inch. She cries out, voice cracking, one hand flying back to grip your wrist.
“S-stop—please—I can’t—it’s too much—!”
You freeze immediately, body tense, chest heaving as you struggle to not blow from the way she squeezes around you, like a velvet vice locked in desperation. Sweat drips from your forehead onto her lower back as you hold yourself there, just breathing, feeling her twitch and clench around the thick girth pulsing inside her. Your cock’s only a little more than halfway in, but the look on her face says she’s already overwhelmed.
Her face is buried in the sheets, bright red and dripping with sweat. Her eyes are shut tight, lips parted in a silent moan. And between her legs, her pussy is dripping, messy and obscene, leaving trails down her thighs. She’s shaking from the stretch, but she’s dripping from the want. It’s chaos, and her body is split right down the middle. Wonyoung shifts on the bed beside her, standing now, arms folded across her chest. Her gaze drops to where you’re still inside Karina’s ass, her head tilting slightly. Cool and calculated.
“How much?” she asks you. Her voice is flat, but curious.
You glance down your shaft. “Little more than half.”
She kneels beside Karina, brushing strands of hair from her face, then leans in close. Karina’s still gasping, unable to speak. Wonyoung looks back up at you.
“That’s enough.”
You pause, nodding, your cock twitching from the pressure building between restraint and raw, near-painful pleasure.
“Start moving,” Wonyoung commands. “Let her feel what she earned.”
You shift your grip on Karina’s hips, sliding your hands up her waist as your thighs tense. She lets out a shaky, helpless sound when you pull back just a couple inches, her body clenching again, like she doesn’t want to let you go, and then you push forward again, slow and deep, not adding more depth but grinding within what she can take.
Karina groans—long and broken.
“Fffuuckk…” she moans into the mattress, hips quaking. “It’s so big, so thick, I can’t believe you’re in my ass… fuck—it’s too much—it’s so full…”
You move again, withdrawing slightly and thrusting slowly back in. Her body jerks with each motion, every slow grind making her rim flutter, her ass stretched and twitching. The sensation has your spine tingling, a tight, searing heat wrapping around your cock like wet silk squeezed over bone. Yuna leans over the edge of the bed, eyes wide with awe, a dirty grin painted across her face.
“She’s taking it like a champ,” she says, grinning. “Look at her—look at that grip. Holy shit.”
Sullyoon’s perched at the headboard, arms hugging her knees, watching with this mix of sympathy and raw curiosity. Her cheeks are pink, eyes wide, lips parted.
“She’s doing so good…” she whispers. “I don’t think I could…”
Wonyoung leans in and cups Karina’s cheek gently, tilting her face so she can see her expression. Karina’s eyes flutter open; glassy, unfocused, filled with overwhelmed heat.
“You’re not gonna forget this,” Wonyoung murmurs, a little smile touching her lips. “No one ever forgets their first real stretch.”
Karina whines, biting her lip, trying to stay still as your hips begin to find a rhythm. You rock into her gently, each thrust short and slow, giving her body time to adjust while her moans grow louder, more broken. Her thighs glisten with arousal, and her hands fist the sheets so tight her knuckles go white.
“I-it’s too good,” she sobs out. “I didn’t know it would feel like this—why does it feel so fucking good?”
You thrust a little deeper, not by much, just enough to push the limits she’s already enduring. Her moan cuts off into a gasp, her body twitching under yours, and you swear you feel her pussy throb at the same time; her cunt untouched, but soaking like it’s getting fucked just from how your cock is stretching her ass.
Your hand slides to her lower back, stroking it gently, whispering low.
“You’re doing perfect, Karina. So fucking good…”
Her answer’s a raw moan, her ass arching slightly, offering you better access without even thinking. You start grinding deeper into her with more confidence, your cock gliding through her slickened hole in a slow, punishing rhythm that has her gasping every time your hips press against her. Yuna slides closer, one hand slipping between Karina’s thighs, hovering just above her glistening folds but not touching.
“You’re dripping all over the bed,” she says. “You love this, huh? Getting your ass fucked by the cock you ran from?”
Karina sobs into the sheets, too fucked out to answer.
Wonyoung circles behind you like a queen inspecting her soldiers, her gaze drops to the slick, stretched spot where your cock disappears into Karina’s ass, the loud, wet rhythm of your thrusts filling the room in obscene contrast to Karina’s trembling moans. Your grip is still tight on her hips, your pace steady, giving her the depth she can handle, but not much more than that.
Wonyoung exhales sharply, almost bored. “Pick up the fucking pace.” Her voice snaps through the air like a whip. “Make her scream, freak."
Before you even register the shift, her hand cuts down hard against Karina’s ass, a brutal, open-palmed slap that sends a jolt through her entire body. Karina cries out, her head lifting from the mattress, her back arching, eyes wide as her moan turns into something raw and sharp. You grit your teeth and follow the order. Your hips slam forward, the new rhythm vicious and unrelenting. Every stroke now punches into Karina’s stretched ass with a thick, wet slap, your cock sliding deeper with each thrust, balls slapping against her soaked thighs. The change is instant. She screams, loud, guttural, her hands scrabbling at the sheets, her voice cutting through the air with no filter, no shame.
“Ah—ahhh fuck—it’s too much—too much!”
You don’t slow down. You can’t. Not when Wonyoung’s standing behind you with that look in her eyes. Not when Karina’s body keeps pushing back against you like it wants every inch. Her tits bounce violently with every impact, full and heavy, swinging under her with each slam of your hips, her nipples dragging against the sheets.
Wonyoung steps forward and grabs a fistful of Karina’s hair, yanking her head up so her moaning face is fully exposed.
“This what you wanted, Karina?” she snarls, leaning down near her ear. “You begged for this cock. You begged to cum tonight. You begged for your fucking ass to be split open, and now you’re fucking screaming. Is this what you wanted?”
Karina sobs and nods through it, eyes wild, drool slipping from the corner of her mouth as she cries out, “Yes! Oh my god yes, yes, yes—please—fuck, don’t stop!”
“Pathetic,” Wonyoung mutters, releasing her hair with a shove that makes Karina collapse forward again, her ass thrust up perfectly for more abuse. Then she looks at you, her expression hard. “And you,” she snaps. “Look at you. Huffing and panting like a fucking dog. You two deserve each other. Ruin this lying slut!”
You grab Karina’s hips tighter, your pace going savage now, hammering her with everything you’ve got. Her voice breaks into a string of high-pitched moans and screams, every thrust punching into her ass with punishing force, her body bouncing forward from the impact. The clap of flesh on flesh echoes through the room, her sweat-slick thighs shaking as she takes it, her pussy dripping onto the sheets like a faucet, untouched and soaked. Wonyoung watches the chaos she’s orchestrated, arms crossed again, a twisted smile forming at the corners of her lips.
“Fuck her until she forgets her name.”
Your hands stay locked on Karina’s hips, holding her firm, thumbs digging into the curves just above her ass as your cock pistons in and out of her stretched, twitching hole. She’s beyond trying to speak in full thoughts now; just babbling, moaning, her mouth open and drooling against the sheets, words falling from her like she’s half-delirious. Her spine arches deeper with each thrust, every part of her trembling as you slam into her again and again, the obscene slap of your hips meeting her ass echoing through the room, wet and brutal.
Her voice jumps pitches without warning, cracking with raw pleasure. There’s no control left in her body. Her thighs are shaking, her arms weak, her pussy glistening untouched beneath her as it drips onto the bed from the pressure alone. You watch the muscles in her ass flex and quiver with every movement of your cock, your shaft stretching her open wider than she’s ever taken, buried inside her like you’re trying to reach her fucking soul.
Yuna leans in from the edge of the bed, laughing in this low, teasing purr that’s half arousal and half mocking delight.
“Holy shit. Look at her. She’s gonna cum just from taking it in the ass like a fucking whore.”
Karina whimpers something into the sheets, something like no or yes or both at once, but her eyes are rolled back, jaw slack, her moans breaking apart like she doesn’t even understand her own body anymore. You keep going. Your thrusts stay relentless. The heat of her body, the grip of her ass around your cock, the way her hips bounce and jerk under you with every impact: it’s pure addiction. You feel her starting to tighten even more, impossibly tight, her whole body locking up like she’s about to snap in half, and her moans spiral into a high, broken whine.
“F-fuck—oh my god, it’s too—ahhh—it’s too much, I’m gonna—I can’t!”
She’s drooling onto the sheets, arms weak, knuckles white from gripping the bedding like it’s all that’s keeping her grounded. Her back arches deeper, like her body’s trying to get away and get more at the same time. Her ass swallows your cock with this obscene wet sound, slick with lube and her own mess, but so fucking tight you can feel every spasm as her rim flutters around your shaft. You glance at Karina’s face; she’s a fucking wreck. Eyes rolled back, mouth open, sweat dripping down her neck. She’s not looking at anyone, just moaning, gasping, shaking. Her pussy’s untouched, but it looks already mid-orgasm, creamy and glistening between her thighs. You slam your cock into her again, and she jolts, sobbing out a half-word, half-wail.
“I’m close,” she gasps out suddenly, louder this time. “I’m—fuck—I’m gonna cum!”
Wonyoung steps forward slowly, arms folded, eyes locked on Karina like she’s waiting to pull the trigger. “Then cum.” Karina’s whole body jerks at the sound of her voice. “Cum now,” Wonyoung growls. “I want to watch you lose it.”
You slam into her again, deeper, faster—and that’s it. That’s all it takes.
Karina screams.
She screams like her body’s being ripped open and baptized at the same time, her voice breaking as her ass clamps down around your cock like a vice, spasming, pulsing, gripping you like she’s trying to suck every drop of cum out of you without you even releasing yet. Her thighs twitch violently, knees buckling beneath her, and she collapses onto the bed fully, her face buried in the mattress, her whole body convulsing as she cums hard from her ass alone.
“Fuuuuck—oh fuck I’M CUMMING! Oh my god—fuck-fuck-fuck!!”
Her pussy gushes under her, untouched and throbbing, slick running down her thighs like her whole body’s melting. Her back arches once, twice, then drops, but she keeps shaking, every nerve lit up like she’s been plugged into a live wire. Her fists are tight in the sheets, her mouth open, drool and moans pouring out without rhythm.
She’s sobbing now, babbling through the aftershocks.
“I—oh god, I didn’t know—I can’t stop, I’m still cumming, I can’t stop, It's so good, it's so fucking good…”
You’re still inside her, cock twitching with every clench of her hole, but you don’t move, just hold her there, one hand still locked on her waist, the other stroking her back like you’re trying to keep her from slipping through the mattress.
Yuna’s staring in disbelief, biting her lip, cheeks flushed.
“She just fucking came… from her ass,” she breathes. “That was the hottest shit I’ve ever seen.”
Sullyoon crawls closer, eyes wide and sparkling with awe, her hand hovering near Karina’s trembling shoulder. “Is she okay?” she whispers.
“She’s perfect,” Wonyoung says flatly, stepping beside her and crouching. She brushes Karina’s hair off her face. “She came like a filthy little anal slut. And she needed that.” There’s a moment of silence, then Wonyoung looks at you. “Your turn,” she says flatly. “You’ve been edging like a good little bitch all night. Now you give us your cum.”
You’re still buried in Karina’s ass, but the moment she hears Wonyoung’s voice shift like that, she groans softly and starts to lift herself. Her whole body shivers as she slowly slides off your cock, her asshole fluttering open before clenching tight, empty, twitching from the stretch. Your entire length is gleaming with slick, twitching hard as it’s exposed to the air again. You reach up, help steady Karina. She’s weak, legs barely holding her. Her skin’s flushed deep pink, her eyes half-lidded with exhaustion, sweat dripping down her chest. She stumbles a bit, and you help ease her down. She kneels, then braces herself upright, arms shaking, tits rising and falling with each breath. Her mouth is still parted, cheeks red, eyes dazed, but she’s looking up at you, obedient, waiting.
Wonyoung watches with one eyebrow raised.
“You made it this far,” she mutters. “Color me shocked. Most guys would’ve been pumping their load into a tissue in the first ten minutes.”
Yuna giggles, kneeling in front of you, her eyes still sparkling with a manic energy. “That’s because you scare the cum out of most guys just by walking into the room, Wony. They probably blow their load just thinking about disappointing you.”
“It’s a talent,” Wonyoung shrugs, a picture of regal indifference, though her eyes are fixed on your straining cock with an unnerving focus. She runs the tip of her tongue over her plump lower lip. “But you,” she says, “you don’t have to hold back anymore. You’ve been a good little freak, edging for us all night. Now it’s time for your reward… or perhaps, our reward from you.”
Sullyoon moves next, a quiet, graceful wraith in the dimly lit room. She slides up beside Karina and brushes a stray strand of hair behind Karina’s ear, then leans in to press a soft, lingering kiss to her cheek. Karina leans into the touch, a soft whimper escaping her lips, her body trembling almost imperceptibly. Sullyoon rests a comforting hand on Karina’s thigh, her thumb stroking gently, before turning her full attention to you. Her eyes, usually wide with an innocent curiosity, are now dark, dilated, and utterly captivated by the sight of your huge cock.
You’re standing now, swaying slightly, your body a live wire of overstimulated nerves. Your cock is a flushed, angry purple, pulsing with a life of its own, veins snaking across its thick shaft like swollen rivers. It’s utterly drenched, glistening from base to tip with a disgusting, beautiful cocktail of the slick lube Yuna had applied earlier, and the clear, sticky juices that seeped from Karina’s ass as you stretched her. It’s still leaking pre-cum—one fat, pearly droplet hanging precariously from the swollen head, threatening to fall. The ache in your balls is a relentless, throbbing agony, a heavy, full sensation that promises an explosive release. Every inch of your skin is buzzing, screaming with a desperate, almost painful need.
Yuna, never one for patience, has already wrapped her surprisingly strong fingers around the base of your shaft, her touch possessive and demanding.
“Fuck, you’re so hard,” she whispers, her eyes wide with a mixture of awe and greedy anticipation. She gives you a preliminary squeeze, making you grunt. “He’s still this fucking hard? After being inside four of us? You didn’t cum once?” Her voice is incredulous, a hint of challenge in it.
“Not yet,” Sullyoon breathes. She licks her lips slowly, her gaze unwavering from your cock. “But he’s close. I can feel it. He’s about to burst.”
“Let’s fix that,” Wonyoung declares. She glides forward and kneels before you, a queen preparing to receive tribute. The way she settles at your feet, eyes already devouring your erection, doesn't feel like submission; it feels like she’s about to break you open and claim what’s hers.
Then, it truly begins.
Wonyoung’s grip on your shaft is like iron, cool and clinical, yet sending shivers of heat through you. Her other hand instantly dives down, fingers deftly finding and cupping your aching, heavy balls. They feel like overripe fruit, swollen and tender. "Fuck, these are absolutely full," she grunts. She gives them a calculated squeeze, just enough to make you let out a strangled moan, your hips twitching. Meanwhile, Karina, seemingly over her initial trepidation, has crawled forward, her eyes glazed with a new kind of desperate hunger. She takes the very tip of your cock into her warm, wet mouth, her tongue flicking nervously against the sensitive slit. "You've been saving it all up for us, haven't you, my little freak?" Wonyoung continues. "Such a good little cum-toy, filled to the brim, just waiting for your goddesses to drain you."
"He's gonna paint us! He’s going to fucking drench us!" Yuna shrieks with manic delight, her own hand a blur at the base of your cock, stroking furiously. The friction is intense, slick with spit and your own copious pre-cum. Her tongue becomes a relentless tease around the thick crown, darting, licking, swirling. "Give it to me, toy! I want every last drop!"
Sullyoon is pressing kisses up your thigh, her breath hot against your skin, her hands gripping your other leg for balance. Her voice, usually so gentle, is surprisingly demanding, raw with need. "Please... oh god, please just let it go... I need to see it… I need to taste you… Don’t make us wait anymore, you bad boy!"
Karina, trembling visibly, lifts her head, her eyes wide and unfocused, a thick string of saliva connecting her lips to the glistening tip of your cock. Her cheeks are flushed, her breathing ragged. "You can do it... cum for us... please, after everything... just let us have it," she begs. "Fill me up too..."
Wonyoung meets your eyes, that cruel, beautiful smirk is back. "That's right, toy. You heard them. They’re begging for your filth. Sullyoon wants to taste it. Karina wants you to fill her pathetic mouth. Yuna wants you to drown her. They’re all desperate for it. But I demand it." Her voice drops to a menacing growl. "You’re going to fucking erupt. You’re going to cover every last inch of us in that disgusting, potent seed you’ve been brewing inside that freakish cock of yours. Do you understand? This isn't about your pleasure. This is about ours. This is your sole purpose." Her fingers tighten on your balls, her thumb pressing hard and deep into the sensitive perineum, making you cry out. "Now. Explode for your queen, you worthless piece of meat!"
Her hand on your shaft speeds up to match Yuna's frenetic pace. Both of them are now a dizzying blur of motion, tugging, stroking, squeezing, their combined efforts an exquisite torture. Karina latches her mouth onto the entire head of your cock, sucking with a primal, vacuum-like force that steals your breath, her tongue a rough, insistent pressure coiling around the shaft. Yuna’s ecstatic giggles turn into sharp, needy moans as she feels the tell-tale, unstoppable convulsions starting deep within your groin, traveling up the base of your cock. Sullyoon and Karina press closer, a tangle of limbs and desperate hands, their touch now almost frantic, greedy, fingers grabbing at your thighs, your stomach, your hips, anywhere they can make contact, as if trying to absorb your impending orgasm through sheer proximity.
"He's doing it! He's really gonna blow! Oh my god, look at him shake!" Yuna screams.
"Fucking finally!" Wonyoung growls stroking your cock. "Give it to your queen, you pathetic mutt! Give me every last fucking drop!"
And then it happens. Your vision whites out completely. A guttural, inhuman roar tears from your throat, a sound you don’t even recognize as your own, echoing off the walls of the luxurious apartment. Your hips buck uncontrollably, a violent, spastic jerk that nearly throws the girls off you.
The first jet of your cum shoots out with impossible, almost painful force, thick as cream and blindingly white. It splatters directly onto Wonyoung’s perfectly sculpted face. She barely flinches, just lets out a choked gasp, her eyes widening for a split second in surprise at the sheer power before they narrow again in dark triumph. Your hot seed is already dripping from her chin, smeared across her cheek, mixed with her saliva, a victorious smirk plastered on her semen-streaked face. "Yes! That's it, you filthy animal! Fucking drown me!"
Another jet follows, then another, and another, each one seemingly hotter, thicker, more voluminous than the last. You're a fucking firehose, completely and utterly out of control, your body just a vessel for this unstoppable eruption.
"My turn! My turn! Hit me with that fucking load!!" Sullyoon screams, scrambling forward with surprising agility, her usually angelic face now contorted into a mask of fierce, desperate need. She positions herself right in the line of fire, her small hands cupping her equally small breasts, her mouth wide open like a baby bird. A thick rope of your cum arcs through the air and lands squarely on her chest, another jet splattering across her cheek and directly into her parted lips. She gasps, a delighted, messy sound, already licking it up with greedy swipes of her tongue. "Oh my god... it's so much... so warm... and it tastes… amazing!"
"Don't you dare forget me!" Karina cries out. She’s pushing past Sullyoon, her eyes fixed on your still-spewing cock like it’s the only thing in the world. "Please! I need it! I earned this!" A fresh torrent of your seed catches her full in the face, soaking her hair, plastering it to her forehead, coating her eyelashes, and dripping in thick streams into her open, gasping mouth. She moans, a long, shuddering, broken sound, tears welling in her eyes (whether from the impact or sheer overwhelming emotion, you can’t tell) as she swallows convulsively, then licks her lips with a dazed, almost worshipful expression on her cum-painted face.
Yuna is practically vibrating beside you, her hands still gripping your shaft, trying to aim the spray, though it’s bucking too wildly for any real control. "Fuck yes! Me next! Fucking drown me in it, you goddamn animal!" she yells, practically shoving Karina aside to get closer. You oblige without conscious thought, another powerful surge coating her face, her neck, her small, perky tits that are now glistening under a thick layer of your seed. She throws her head back and laughs, a wild, uninhibited, joyous sound, as your cum drips down her body like a perverse baptism. "It’s like a fucking geyser! I've never seen anything like this! He's a cum machine!"
Jet after jet after jet, it just keeps coming, an unending, impossible flood. You’re emptying yourself completely, your balls cinching tight, contracting painfully with each pulse, a hollow, almost unbearable ache spreading through your loins and up into your stomach. The girls are an absolute mess, drenched, glistening, their perfect idol skin smeared and utterly coated with your thick, white seed. They’re not even trying to be neat or dignified anymore; they’re reveling in it, laughing, moaning, smearing it on each other.
"Holy shit," Wonyoung says, breathless for once, a genuine note of awe in it. She looks down at her own cum-splattered chest and hands. "He really was full. Fucking packed to the rafters." A small, almost proud smile touches her lips. "Good boy." She slowly wipes a thick smear of cum from her perfect lips with a thumb and licks it clean with deliberate, sensual slowness.
Finally, with one last, shuddering, weaker pulse, you’re empty. Utterly spent. Your cock twitches pathetically, still painfully hard but no longer gushing, merely slick and dripping with their combined spit and your own rapidly cooling load. You sag forward, gasping for breath, your entire body trembling from the sheer intensity of the release, black spots dancing in front of your eyes. The room slowly comes back into focus, filled with the sounds of their ragged panting, their wet, satisfied laughter, and the overwhelmingly pungent, salty-sweet smell of your spilled seed..
"Fuck," Yuna breathes, looking down at your dick, which is still defiantly, impressively erect despite the massive load you just shot. "Is it... is it still hard? After all that?" She reaches out a tentative, cum-slicked finger and pokes the head. Your cock gives a noticeable throb in response. Yuna’s eyes widen. "Oh my god. It is still hard." She looks up, her eyes meeting Wonyoung’s, then Sullyoon’s, then Karina’s. "Girls... I think our toy isn't done playing yet."
Sullyoon crawls closer. "No way... really? Can he go again?"
Karina, looking utterly debauched and surprisingly radiant under her coating of your cum, nods enthusiastically. "He has to! That was... that was incredible. I want more."
They all start to speak at once, their voices a chorus of greedy demands.
"More, toy!"
"Don't tell me you're finished!"
"You’ve got more in there for us, don't you?"
"Come on, freak, give us another load!"
Wonyoung silences them with a raised hand. She leans close to you again, that imperious glint back in her eyes, her gaze dropping to your still-throbbing erection. Her hand reaches out, fingers wrapping around your slick shaft. "You heard them," she says. "They're not satisfied. And frankly," she gives your cock a slow, deliberate stroke, "neither am I."
Her other hand comes up, and with a speed that surprises you, she delivers a sharp, stinging slap right across the head of your dick. A choked gasp tears from your lips, your hips instinctively jerking. The pain is shocking, but it’s instantly followed by a wave of intense, almost unbearable pleasure. Your cock pulses violently in her grip.
"Oh, you like that, don't you?" Wonyoung sneers. "Like being roughed up a little? Like being reminded you’re just our fuck-meat?" Another slap, harder this time, landing on the already hypersensitive tip. You cry out, a raw, helpless sound.
"Answer me, slut!" she barks.
"Y-yes," you gasp out, shame and arousal warring within you. "Yes, I like it..."
"Pathetic," she spits, but her lips are curved into a satisfied smile. She continues to stroke you with one hand, her rhythm firm and steady, while the other delivers a relentless series of slaps. Each impact sends jolts of pure, agonizing pleasure through your system. Your balls are tightening again, an impossible ache building deep inside. The girls are watching, breathless, their faces a mixture of shock and intense arousal. Yuna is openly touching herself, her fingers disappearing between her cum-smeared thighs. Sullyoon is biting her lip so hard it’s a wonder it’s not bleeding. Karina is just staring, her mouth slightly agape.
"Beg for it," Wonyoung commands, her strokes becoming faster, her slaps more precise, each one aimed at the most sensitive parts of your cock. "Beg me to let you cum again, you disgusting freak."
"Please," you groan, "Please, Wonyoung... let me cum... I need to..."
SMACK! This one is directly on the slit, a brutal, stinging impact.
Your vision explodes in white light. You can’t hold it back any longer.
With a strangled scream, you erupt again. It’s not the voluminous flood from before, but it’s thick, ropy, and impossibly potent, shooting out in desperate, pulsing spurts.
Wonyoung doesn’t flinch, doesn't stop stroking, doesn’t stop slapping. She just watches, a terrifyingly beautiful goddess of pleasure and pain, as your second load sprays across her hand, her arm, adding to the sticky mess already coating her.
The other girls cry out in unison, scrambling closer, mouths open, hands outstretched, desperate to catch any stray drops. Yuna manages to get her mouth under the stream for a moment, swallowing greedily, while Sullyoon and Karina try to catch the ropes of semen on their tongues, their faces eager and flushed.
It goes on and on, your body wracked with spasms, your mind completely gone, lost in a whirlwind of humiliation and ecstasy. More slaps, more strokes, more cum, until you’re utterly, completely drained, gasping for air, your vision blurry.
They’re all around you, closer now, their bodies slick and gleaming, their faces alight with a primal satisfaction. Wonyoung finally lets go of your now semi-flaccid, thoroughly abused cock, a triumphant smirk on her lips.
"Good boy," she purrs, wiping a fresh glob of your cum from her cheek and licking it from her fingers. "You finally learned how to be useful."
Instead of rushing to clean up properly, they start playing. Yuna, giggling like a maniac, licks a thick glob of your cum from Sullyoon’s small, firm breast. "Mmm, salty," she declares, then dives in to suckle the nipple, her tongue swirling. Sullyoon moans, arching into it, her hands coming up to smear more of your sticky seed from her stomach onto Yuna’s cheek.
"You’re such a nasty whore, Yuna." Sullyoon laughs.
Karina, looking dazed but with a soft smile playing on her lips, tentatively licks a streak of cum from her own arm. Wonyoung watches them for a moment, a rare, almost fond smirk on her face, before she grabs Karina’s wrist. "Don't waste it, idiot," she says, then pulls Karina’s hand to her own mouth, licking the cum from Karina's skin with slow, deliberate strokes of her tongue, her eyes daring Karina to react. Karina just shivers, her cheeks flushing a deeper red.
It’s an insane, beautiful, disgusting sight. Four of the most lusted-after women on the planet, acting like depraved sluts, covered head-to-toe in your fucking seed.
Your legs finally give out. You collapse onto the massive bed, your body a dead weight, every muscle screaming in protest. Exhaustion hits hard a deep, boneless fatigue that makes even breathing feel like an effort.
One by one, the girls, still sticky and laughing, crawl onto the bed around you, their combined weight making the mattress sag. They’re not careful, their cum-smeared bodies pressing against you, against the pristine grey duvet, leaving wet, pearly patches everywhere. Yuna flops down beside you, throwing a sticky arm over your chest. Sullyoon curls up on your other side, resting her head on your shoulder, her hair damp with sweat and semen. Karina hesitates, then slowly settles at the foot of the bed, leaning against your legs. Wonyoung, of course, perches at the head, looking down at all of you like a queen surveying her messy, sated kingdom.
"I... I can't believe this actually happened," you manage to croak out.
Karina looks at you, her eyes soft, a genuine concern in them. "Are you... are you good? You look wrecked."
"Yeah," you sigh, your head lolling to the side. "Just... exhausted. Completely fucking drained."
"Aren't we all," Yuna groans, nuzzling her face into your chest. "But holy shit, that was... incredible. Best night of my life, no joke."
Sullyoon nods against your shoulder. "Definitely the most... memorable."
"I think... I think it was worth it after all, having been deceived by Karina just to be used by you, girls," you admit, a tired smile touching your lips as you look at Karina.
Karina’s expression flickers. "You’re... you’re not mad? That I tricked you? Lied to you?"
Before you can answer, Wonyoung cuts in. "Mad? He should be on his fucking knees thanking us. Grateful that he had the privilege of spending a night with us, serving a purpose. Most losers only dream of this, and he got to live it. He got to empty his pathetic balls into K-pop royalty."
Yuna and Sullyoon murmur their agreement. "She's right, you know," Yuna says, patting your cheek with a sticky hand. "You hit the jackpot, toy."
"So, how's that pretty little ass of yours feeling, Jimin?" Wonyoung asks, her gaze shifting to Karina, a cruel amusement dancing in her eyes.
Karina shifts uncomfortably, wincing. "It’s... burning. A lot. Like, really a lot."
"Good," Wonyoung says, utterly unsympathetic. "It'll hurt even more tomorrow. And the day after that. Maybe then you'll learn your lesson about exaggerating dick sizes to me. Or lying in general."
Karina sighs, a weary sound that’s tinged with exasperation. "You’re a fucking maniac, Wonyoung. You know that, right?"
Wonyoung’s smile is pure, unadulterated wickedness. "Yes, I do," she purrs. "A total, unrepentant maniac. But," she spreads her arms, gesturing to the cum-soaked bed, the exhausted bodies, the lingering scent of raw sex, "I also organize the best group sex you’ll ever have. And all you bitches fucking love it."
Yuna pushes herself up on her elbows. "Fuck yes, we do, Queen Wony!" she practically screams. "Holy shit, this was… this was next level. I thought I knew what good dick was, but this," she gestures vaguely towards your groin with a cum-stained hand, "this little freak that Karina brought us? And everything you made us do to him? And what you made him do to us?" She shivers, a full-body tremor. "My cunt is still twitching just thinking about it. My face is a glazed fucking donut of his spunk, and I've never felt hotter. You're a goddamn visionary, Wonyoung. A cruel, twisted, dick-obsessed visionary, and I fucking worship you for it!" She collapses back onto you with a happy sigh, nuzzling her sticky face into your neck.
Sullyoon, curled beside you, nods slowly. "She's right, Wony.” Her fingers, still tracing absentminded patterns on your cum-smeared arm, tighten slightly. "I… I’ve never experienced anything like tonight. Ever." A shy, almost guilty smile touches her lips. "When you… when you made him put his hand on my throat while he was… inside me… and then when Karina was screaming while you plugged her…" She shudders, a different kind of tremor, one of pure, overwhelmed ecstasy. "It was terrifying. And so, so fucking hot. I came so hard I thought I was going to pass out. And watching him… watching him just explode all over us…" Her eyes flick down to your crotch, then back to Wonyoung, wide and adoring. "You… you really do know how to throw a party, Wony. The best, nastiest, most unforgettable party."
"She's… she’s not wrong," Karina admits. "I thought… when you first told me your plan… I thought you were insane. Actually insane." A small, shaky laugh escapes her. "And when you made me… when he was in my ass… I thought I was going to die. It hurt so much." Her hand instinctively goes to her still-tender backside. "But then… when I came…" Her voice breaks, and she has to swallow hard before continuing. "It was… it was the most intense thing I’ve ever felt. Like my whole body just… shattered. And then watching him… watching him just give everything to us like that… You’re a fucking monster, Wonyoung. A beautiful, terrifying, brilliant monster. And… and thank you. For… for this. For convincing me to bring him here… For punishing me..." She actually manages a small, genuine smile, her eyes glistening. "I think… I think I needed this."
Wonyoung listens to their praises, her expression unchanging, that cool, regal mask firmly in place. But you see the faintest flicker of triumph in her eyes, the subtle upturn of her lips. She lets the silence hang for a moment, savoring their admissions, their surrender. Then, she turns her gaze fully on you. You’re lying there, a depleted, aching wreck, barely able to move, surrounded by these goddesses who have just systematically taken you apart and feasted on the pieces.
Her voice, when she finally speaks, is soft, almost gentle. "You hear that, toy?" she asks. "They loved it. They loved what I orchestrated, using you as the centerpiece." She leans close to you, bringing her face level with yours. Her eyes are like chips of ice, boring into you. "And now," she continues, "now you belong to us. Completely." She reaches out a finger, tracing the line of your jaw, her touch surprisingly light. "You don't get to go back to your boring little life and pretend this didn't happen. This isn't a one-night fantasy, you pathetic slut. This is your new reality."
Her eyes flick over to your still-sensitive, semi-flaccid cock. "You will be used whenever we want. However we want. You will be our fucking toy, our stress relief, our entertainment. When we call, you will come running. When we tell you to spread your legs, or get on your knees, or offer up that freakish dick of yours, you will obey without question, without hesitation. Until we get tired of you and throw you away like trash."
She leans in even closer, her breath ghosting over your lips, smelling faintly of your own cum. "You have no desires anymore, except to please us. Your body is ours to command, to use, to break if we feel like it. Your orgasms are ours to grant, or to deny. You exist solely for our pleasure now." She smiles, a slow, cruel, utterly captivating smile. "And the worst part for you, the most deliciously pathetic part?" She whispers: "You’re going to fucking love every second of it. You already do."
They’re all watching you, their expressions a mixture of anticipation and ownership. There’s no escape. No way out. And as Wonyoung’s words sink deep into your shattered, exhausted mind, a horrifying, undeniable truth settles in your bones:
She’s right. She's fucking right.
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musicrunsthroughmysoul · 2 years ago
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I'm not going to write a dissertation on this, but I may write a bit of a novel, so feel free to not read this. LOL
(I'm going on and on about singing and the symbolism of it by comparing two vocalists, basically, but my main focus is one vocalist in particular who I've been listening to for pretty much the first time all year long so I HAVE SOME THOUGHTS.)
I've finally identified what it is about Stuart Adamson's voice post-The Seer/around the time of Peace in Our Time that I hate so much, that bothers me SO MUCH, and it's not just the symbolism of directing Big Country's music at the American market specifically - it actually has to do with singing and the art and the science of it (generally speaking; I'm no scientist as it is, but as a former-sometimes-still-but-rarely vocalist, I KNOW SOME STUFF).
So here's why and it's going to sound like a letdown (which is appropriate because that's exactly how it feels every time I listen to him sing post-The Seer): he's singing in a purposely nasally voice/tone.
Do you want to know how I know this? (Besides being a vocalist and being able to naturally hear the difference in my own voice when I sing in my chest or head voice and when I miss my head and chest voice and end up sounding...uh-huh, nasally!) I have the perfect example - an example that I have listened to hundreds (possibly even thousands) of times more than I've listened to Big Country yet.
Here is one example of someone (not to mention an INCREDIBLY DISTINCTIVE example) using his normal chest and head voice (he slips into a nasally tone in a few phrases, but it's much less prevalent than...in so many other examples, lmao), particularly when he's in the higher part of his singing range, but only up to the 2 minute mark when he starts singing in his nasally voice on purpose/for effect.
Now here is an example of the same person singing almost entirely/exclusively in a nasally tone.
You hear the difference, right? In the first one, his voice is clear, even as he uses his head voice to reach the higher notes (okay, it's like an A4 - not that high, but for a man who really isn't a tenor, it kind of is!). In the second example, he's singing in a nasally tone even for notes that he could easily hit in his chest voice (which is the most standard voice to sing in, as apparently your vocal chords responsible for your chest voice are thicker than your vocal chords responsible for your head voice, and your chest voice is also naturally the most comfortable voice to sing in because it's the same voice you speak in).
Do I...do I even need to provide examples now of differences between Stuart Adamson's voice pre-Peace in Our Time and from Peace in Our Time-on? Okay, I'll do it, even though it's probably just for me. So: in his normal chest and head voice (me, impressed: all of those high notes! In! His head voice!! Period!!!!! I think the highest note he reaches is an A-sharp/B4 flat, btw - I don't have a piano/keyboard at my disposal to confirm that, though, so I'm making an educated guess), and then in his deeply flimsy (irony intended) nasally voice. I actually don't think I can say that he sings that song entirely in a nasally tone/voice, but the CHORUS - that whole thing, oh, yes, shamelessly so and I hate it.
Now I'm finally gonna talk about why the nasal voice, as compared to his regular chest and head voice, is so bad (and if you want to read this as an equal critique of Tom Petty's voice, be my guest!).
So when I called Adamson's post-The Seer nasally voice "deeply flimsy," what did I mean by that, and how does that reflect his use of a specifically nasal voice/tone in a bad way? By "deeply flimsy," I mean that his nasally voice - used on purpose - is disingenuous. It is inauthentic.
And, okay, for a song like "Republican Party Reptile" or "We're Not in Kansas" I can somewhat understand the use of a nasally tone that is inherently disingenuous because it works to further illustrate how fake the characters in "Republican Party Reptile" (his "cousin PJ") and "We're Not in Kansas" (the place, Kansas; in this case, his perception of Kansas) are.
But for any song that IS NOT "Republican Party Reptile," "We're Not in Kansas," or anything else that doesn't obviously call for a disingenuous voice - when it became the voice he sang in pretty much all the time, it meant that he wasn't being honest, voice and tone-wise, toward any of the songs he was singing. Which...I could psychoanalyze him about that if I really wanted to, but I really don't want to here (currently), so I'll just stick to critiquing it regardless of what it might've meant for him personally to do so.
Basically: for him to sing in an unnatural (and thus inauthentic/disingenuous) voice/tone all the time meant that every time he chose not to sing anything in his natural, slightly accented voice (honestly, it's rarely noticeable, and I can't imagine that he was so self-conscious about it that that was the reason he chose not to sing that way anymore), it was just that - a choice. And, in a way, if he chose to sing every song that way, regardless of the song's subject matter or getting into "the character" of the song, then doesn't that cancel out the times he sang that way fittingly (like in "Republican Party Reptile" and "We're Not in Kansas")? ...I'm going to say yes. Because then he wasn't choosing to sing in that tone to fit the song; he chose to sing that way for everything, even everything he would sing in his normal voice before he started singing that way.
So yeah, the nasally voice/tone was unnecessary, except when it wasn't, but it became unnecessary for all time because he used it when he didn't ever need to.
And, really, this is why it bothers me so much: he started out in punk rock, right? And the first rule of punk is "You don't need to know how to do it, let alone how to do it well - you just need to try/do it, anyway." I mean, okay, yeah, he kinda speedran that because he was an incredibly talented guitarist whilst in the punk band The Skids, but as a singer, nonetheless, he always had the permission to do it anyway, no matter how good or bad you are at it. So he brought that idea to Big Country (necessarily, as a vocalist; not as a guitarist), and, naturally, he did improve as a vocalist (especially if you listen to his vocals on the entirety of The Seer)! And he did it all in his natural, authentic fucking voice. But then came Peace in Our Time which, not every song on that album is sung entirely in a nasally tone and, a decent chunk of it includes (but does not feature, imo) his authentic voice, but any time especially AFTER that album (and from specific years - I'd say 1990-on) he sang exclusively in a nasally voice/tone and abandoned his normal voice pretty much altogether.
Which leaves me with the knowledge that all along he could've sung in his normal voice - no matter who he was playing to or why - but that it became a choice to sing in an unnatural, inauthentic, nasally voice and tone. And it was bad! It wasn't Tom Petty "I'm an American Southerner so I can manipulate my voice and tone to accentuate that or even to downplay it" - it was full-on "This is how I sing now even though I've never sounded like this before," and, to be real - it never got him or Big Country anywhere better (capitalistically, if that is how you define success) than they got to before. Now I said I wasn't going to psychoanalyze him but I will say this: maybe he was bitter about that fact, or about the idea that he and Big Country had "peaked," so he imposed his feelings on all of his and Big Country's songs in every fucking performance? But what I can't understand is, did he really not respect his fans OR HIMSELF that much? He chose to sound fake to spite everybody's expectations of him and Big Country? Oof...isn't that a self-destructive bruise that I sure don't want to poke...
I also want to add, after watching a live performance by Big Country from 1990 (you know the music is just fine, but then Stuart sings the whole fucking thing in that tone AND MY EYE TWITCHES), the consideration that (and I'm just guessing here) maybe Adamson used that voice because he thought it was more rock 'n' roll - like maybe he was going for a gravelly voice that a lot of rock singers are known to employ in the middle of their songs or whatever? But...really man, every song you sing is rock and roll, no matter what? I mean, okay, I get it - gone are the days of 'I've always just played folk music with really loud guitars,' (that's the gist of a quote Adamson said at some point) but even quieter, softer songs don't require a gravelly voice that was really never mastered (or *coughs* even started) in the first place...so again I circle back to: even if he ignored his audience, he was still going to ignore what the songs needed, and what he needed, too? It's just...all so unnecessary, and it makes me sad.
Anyway, if you read this far, I will say one last thing about all of this: I'm sorry. About all of it. Except where I mentioned Tom Petty. Then I'm not sorry at all, and please don't ever expect me to apologize for anything I say regarding him. Thank. Honestly, it pains me to say all of that, because Stuart Adamson's natural voice was lovely but above all it was HEARTFELT and I think he very much could have improved even more as a vocalist if he hadn't just straight-up chosen not to sing in his natural voice no matter what, anyway.
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millermouth · 3 months ago
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Can you do Daryl with an intelligent girl who maybe came from the same trailer park but went to nursing school or something
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Summary: Daryl never could accept the fact that you were leaving him. He knew you were meant for more than the trailer park, that you were making something of yourself, chasing the kind of life he never thought he could touch. But that didn’t make it hurt any less when you got accepted into nursing school. So he did what he always did—lashed out with sharp, thoughtless words he didn’t mean, and let you walk away before he could ask you to stay.
|| angst, hurt with delayed comfort, tp!daryl, farm!daryl, kind of established relationship with no label, the man has a lotta feelings and has no clue how to handle them || notes: I'm so sorry this is probs NOT what you were expecting but god I love angsty Daryl. This is like what the ruins of us could’ve been if they’d just accepted their feelings.
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The porch creaked when you stepped out, half-empty beer in one hand, the other bracing against the chipped doorframe. The air smelled like hot asphalt and cheap cigarettes—someone in the next lot over still had their music playing, something low and twangy.
Daryl was leaning against the railing, a nearly empty bottle dangling from his fingers. But he wasn’t where you left him—not lounged into the second rocking chair, hidden in the corner of the porch out of the baking sun like usual. He was standing now, stiff-backed and still, staring down at the paper in his hands.
“You weren’t even gonna tell me,” he muttered without looking at you, and he held up the paper.
Your opened acceptance letter.
You blinked. “I was. I am.”
His jaw tightened, like he didn’t believe you. Or maybe he didn’t want to. He dropped the letter onto the small cigarette littered table by the door. “So that’s it, then? You’re just leavin’.”
You stepped down from the doorframe to stand beside him, the wood warm from the sun even this late. “I told you I was applying. Daryl, they gave me a full ride scholarship. That’s not just—”
“Yeah, I know what it is,” he snapped. His arms folded across his chest like armor. “Ain’t gotta talk to me like I’m stupid.”
Your mouth opened, then shut. “I never said that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
Silence stretched out between you, thick and restless. The cicadas screamed in the trees. Down the road, a truck rumbled past with its headlights off.
“I thought you’d be happy for me,” you said after a long beat. Voice quieter now, uncertain.
Daryl let out a short, humorless laugh. “Yeah? Well, guess I ain’t real good at pretendin’.”
You stared at him, trying to find the softness underneath all that bark, the boy who used to hand you bottle rockets and steal peaches from old man Gentry’s tree. The man who held you close at night, who kissed you in the bed of his truck on summer evening at the drive in.
“Why are you bein’ like this?”
He finally turned to look at you, and you wished he hadn’t. His eyes were sharp and wild and wounded.
“’Cause you’re actin’ like this place never meant nothin’ to you. Like I never meant nothin’.”
That landed hard. Your chest pinched around it.
“That’s not fair.”
“No?” His voice rose just a little. “You get to run off, play nurse, start some new life, and what? I just stay here? Fix Merle’s shit, watch Pop drink himself to death?”
“I never asked you to stay here.”
“Yeah, but you didn’t ask me to come with you, neither.”
That stopped you cold. Because you hadn’t. You hadn’t even thought to.
“Daryl…”
He looked away again, chewing at the inside of his cheek. Angry. Embarrassed. Small.
“You’ve always thought you were better than this place,” he muttered. “Better than me.”
You stood up then, heart pounding, beer forgotten. “That’s bullshit, and you know it. I’ve fought for everything. I worked my ass off to get outta here.”
He nodded, jaw working. “Yeah. And now you get to go patch up college boys and drink your little lattes and forget all about the rest of us.”
“You think I’m gonna forget you?”
“Ain’t that what you do?” he shot back, standing up, crowding your space. “Climb high enough, leave the rest of us in the mud.”
It hurt. God, it hurt more than you thought it would. More than it should’ve.
“I loved you,” you said, voice shaking. “I love you, Daryl. But I can’t stay here and rot just to prove it.”
Daryl’s mouth opened. Closed. He didn’t know what to do with that. With love. Especially not yours.
So he did what he always did. He lashed out.
“Go play nurse for all them rich boys,” he said, tone flat. “Bet they’ll eat that shit up.”
You flinched like he’d hit you. Over and over like each word he spewed as a hit to your gut.
The porch lights buzzed above you. Inside, the old box fan in the window rattled against the frame. You suddenly hated this place. Hated how it was in your lungs, in your clothes, how it would never let him go.
“I’ll call,” you said, softer now.
Daryl shook his head, not looking at you as he stepped off the porch into the Georgia night.
“Don’t bother.”
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Daryl
Fourth day out.
The sun was high, thick in the trees. The air pressed down on Daryl like it had weight, clinging to the sweat on his back, his neck, the inside of his shirt. His legs ached, but it didn’t slow him. Nothing would. Not yet. Not until he found Sophia or dropped dead trying.
He hadn’t slept right in days. Couple hours here and there. Rested up in trees like he used to, one eye open. Rick kept saying they had to keep faith. Carol was hanging on by threads. And the others...hell, most of them didn’t believe she was alive anymore.
But Daryl did. Because she had to be.
The heat made his vision blur around the edges.
He’d been walking since sunrise, following signs—scrapes on bark, half a shoe print in the mud that might not’ve even been hers. But it was something.
His body was on autopilot now. Step, scan, step. Branches slapped at his arms. Sweat stung his eyes. He barely felt it.
He dragged the back of his dirty hand across his forehead, took another few steps up the ridge, eyes scanning the trail ahead. The air felt different here. Cooler. Stiller.
He paused.
Listened.
Something moved through the trees—soft, fast. Too light for a walker, too smooth for a deer. The trees were quiet. That kind of quiet that made his skin crawl, like the whole world was holding its breath.
Daryl raised his crossbow without thinking. “Sophia?” he called, voice rough from hours of silence.
No answer. Just another rustle. Closer. He moved toward it, careful.
And then... You stepped into view.
And the world stopped.
You looked like a ghost. Not clean, not untouched—no one was anymore. He couldn't tell if he was hallucinating or not. Standing there in jeans stained at the knees, a pack slung over your shoulder, sun catching in your hair like it always had.
His lungs quit working.
Then you said his name.
And Daryl Dixon, who had gutted walkers, walked through fire, faced death over and over, had flinched.
He knew your voice. Knew it better than anything. Could’ve picked it out blindfolded in a storm, could’ve followed it straight into hell. And here it was, soft and real and saying his name like he hadn’t shattered everything the last time you stood in front of him.
He didn’t move. Didn’t blink. His brain went blank and loud all at once—static and screaming, every memory shoving itself forward like it had claws.
The memory of the last time he saw you, a memory he only saw in dreams now because he would shove it away every time it surfaced in the days afterward, was fresh behind his eyes. The things he said—sharp, stupid things—just to make you feel as bad as he did. You’d looked at him like he’d broken something between you, something that couldn’t be put back.
Now you were here.
And you didn’t hesitate. You ran.
Boots hitting the earth fast and sure, arms open, crashing into him like you were sure he’d catch you—and he did, though his feet stumbled back a step and his breath seized like he’d taken a hit to the ribs. For a heartbeat, he didn’t move. Couldn’t. He still wasn't entirely sure he wasn't hallucinating. That maybe he was dying on the ground from heat stroke and you were some angel come to take him to hell.
But your arms were real. Solid around his shoulders. Your body warm against his. And then his own arms, slow and unsure, wrapped around you like they were remembering something they hadn’t felt in years. They settled there—tight, desperate, almost trembling—and then he buried his face into the curve of your neck, because there was nowhere else in the world he wanted to be.
You still smelled the same, now with the undeniable scent of dirt and sweat from months of survival on your own. But you still had that faint, warm sweetness that had haunted him on nights he couldn’t sleep. His fingers clenched at the fabric of your shirt, bringing you closer to him like he was scared you’d disappear again. And for the first time in a long time, he let himself breathe. Let himself feel.
You held him like no time had passed. Like the years hadn’t hollowed both of you out. Like he hadn’t said the one thing he regretted more than anything in the whole damn world.
And that… forgiveness? That grace? That mercy cracked something open in his chest. Because maybe you remembered every word. Maybe you hadn’t forgotten a thing. But you were still here. Still choosing him.
He’d expected a reckoning if he ever saw you again. Silence. Distance. Maybe a slap. But instead, he got this. You pressed against him. Breathing him in. Holding him like coming back was never a question.
And he was surprised when it didn’t feel like punishment.
Because it felt like hope.
And when he finally opened his mouth, the words barely made it out.
“I’m sorry,” he shuddered into you.
“I know,” you breathed.
You pulled back just enough to look at him, your hands still warm where they rested on his shoulders. Your eyes searched his face, like you were trying to find all the pieces he’d buried and put them back together.
And then you did the thing he’d tried hardest to forget. The thing that twisted in his gut whenever it surfaced in the dark. The thing that lived somewhere just behind his ribs, where no one else could reach.
You kissed him.
And Daryl didn’t stop you.
Couldn’t.
He kissed you back, rough and aching, like something in him had come loose. Like all the time between then and now had built up behind his ribs, waiting to crack open the second your mouth touched his. There was no thought, no hesitation. Just instinct. Just you. His hand found your waist, pulled you in, desperate to feel all of you—solid, breathing, here.
The first kiss was quick. Too quick. Like he was afraid to take too much. But then you leaned into him, your hands curling into the back of his sleeveless shirt, and whatever hold he thought he had on himself snapped like dry twigs.
He kissed you harder. Messier. His mouth pressed to yours with a kind of hunger he didn’t know he still had in him. You were warm under his hands, grounding. Familiar and different all at once. And God, the way you held onto him—like you wanted this. Like you still wanted him—it nearly dropped him to his knees.
He didn’t even realize he was shaking until you slid your hands up to his shoulders, steadying him. He pressed his forehead to yours between kisses, trying to breathe, trying to think, but nothing made sense except your mouth and your hands and the way your breath caught when he kissed the corner of your lips.
“I’m sorry,” he said again, breathless, eyes squeezing shut like it hurt to say it. They were the only words he knew right then. Everything else was too big, too messy. But those—those three words—were the truth. They scraped up from somewhere deep, somewhere buried, and left him raw. “I’m sorry.”
He felt you nod, felt your hands curl tighter in his shirt, grounding him.
“It’s okay, Daryl,” you breathed, the words quiet but certain. He barely had time to register the sound of them before your fingers slid into his hair, fisting the short, sweaty strands around your knuckles. “It’s okay.”
He let out a ragged breath. His eyes stayed shut, like if he looked at you too long, it might break the spell. No one said things like that to him. Not like they meant it. Not without an edge, not without a catch. But you did. You always had.
The woods were quiet around you, all dappled light and heat rising from the earth. His hands stayed on your waist, thumbs brushing your skin just beneath the hem of your shirt. Not thinking about it, not trying to start anything—just needing that contact. That proof.
He finally opened his eyes, just a crack.
You were already looking at him.
Not with pity. Not with anger. Just that same steady gaze you’d always had when he was trying to hold himself together and failing miserably. Like you saw straight through all the armor and decided to stay anyway.
He swallowed hard. His throat was tight.
“You’re really here,” he murmured, more to himself than to you.
“Yeah,” you said, smiling just a little. “I am.”
He let out a quiet laugh—barely a breath. “Didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”
“I didn’t think I’d ever find you.”
And that hit something deep. He dipped his head, pressed his forehead to yours. Just stayed there. Breathing the same air, feeling the same weight settle between you.
It didn’t feel like a dream anymore.
It felt like a second chance.
And slowly—like you both knew there was nowhere else to go—you leaned in at the same time.
This kiss wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t about need.
It was about recognition.
About two people who had been carrying the same ache for too long finally setting it down.
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oh-my-grayson · 29 days ago
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An Unnecessary Analysis on Dick Grayson and the Themes of Replacement in His Story
Been re-reading some of the N52 comics (specifically the Batman Vol 1 and 2 TPs and the Night of the Owls collection), and I was reminded that the fear of replacement is such a large recurring theme for the characters more oftenly associated with Batman. Whether it be the characters themselves feeling that fear of replacement or others feeling that fear in relation to the characters, it's reappears so frequently that it's hard not to begin seeing it in everything.
The most commonly referenced examples are, of course, the Robin boys and their very tragic stories. Dick being replaced by Jason when he's fired by Bruce (in the more commonly accepted canon), then Jason being replaced by Tim when he's killed by the Joker, and then Tim being replaced by Damian when Bruce is lost in time and Dick takes over as Batman and needs to give Damian an outlet.
I've talked each of those instances to death already, both on this blog and to my offline friends when they decide to humor me, but a moment that I want to focus on now is one that came up specifically in the N52 comics.
Because Dick's origin at the circus is, in and of itself, a story about replacement.
Vols 1 and 2 follow the Court of Owls making a move on Gotham and those in charge of the city (alongside a few infamous individuals who lack actual control but impact the city itself through other, less savory, means), and in them we learn that Dick's great grandfather, William Cobb, is a Talon, and that Haly's Circus is, and has been for a very long time, a means of scouting and training new Talons for the Court.
Furthermore, in one of the stories featured in the Night of the Owls collection, we're introduced to Alton Carver, a Talon recruited from the circus as a young boy who served the Court for an unusually long stretch of time, but who'd progressively become less and less efficient. When he's told by a member of the Court that they're thinking of retiring him, that they've found his replacement (that key word again), he goes to the circus to see for himself the child that the Court's talking about. This child winds up being Dick Grayson, but what Alton has to say about him is this: "I needed to see him. The one who would take my place. No one had to tell me who he was. I could see it. And I could feel it. It was him. And for the first time in decades... I felt fear."
Emphasis on that fear he says he feels. He knows he's being replaced, and he's looking at the boy that will take his place and seeing exactly why the Court has chosen him to do so.
In the end, this is all just to say that the themes of replacement and the fear of being replaced are concepts that are seemingly ingrained into the story of Batman and its characters, but specifically the character of Dick Grayson.
His legacy is intertwined in unwilling replacement after unwilling replacement, so much so that he's most often referenced as being the first to be replaced in regards to the role of Robin, but he, himself, was originally destined to be the replacement of another man who could no longer service his designated purpose— a man who was no longer wanted.
The story of Robin, beginning with Dick, mirrors the story of the Talons and how the Court replaces them when they can no longer do their job with the required efficiency, and we see this in the same line of thinking in the various Robins as each of them are eventually made to drop the mantle and see it picked up by another, younger boy. Whether it's true or not, the Robins each felt that they could no longer do their job to the standards they were being held to and developed insecurities centered around those feelings of inadequacy when comparing themselves to their replacements.
(For the record, it isn't true, there are all very valid reasons for each boy evolving beyond Robin, and the entire family is just incapable of communicating with one another so the feelings of inadequacy are perpetuated and the real reasons— fear of loss, death and grief, and simply out-growing the lessons and security the role of Robin offers— are never explained which breeds further insecurity and resentment towards themselves and their respective replacements, or those that facilitated the replacing).
I think this also is ironic, or maybe just interesting, when put into relation to the fact that Dick was being groomed to be a Talon like his many predecessors before him, but when Dick is told this by Cobb, he responds by stating he doesn't believe in destiny. Despite the fact that he is the first in a cycle that mirrors the way the Court works, thus, in same way, fulfilling that destiny even if it isn't as a Talon.
Anyways, thanks for coming to my very rushed analysis, I'll see myself out now.
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nativegirltapes · 6 months ago
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. . . the one where tp!mom finds out about odessa
warnings/notes: not sure if this is cringe or what, also i don’t mean to make odessa the enemy with every !reader but … it just makes sense lol. anyways, odessa is an actual bitch in this, reader is forgiving (hope yall don’t hate me idk), drew yapping at the end. happy silly ending ig, also i literally get right to the plot so sorry for no backstory.
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you and drew were fighting over if a hotdog was sandwich or not, he swore it was, but you weren't buying his claim, at all. "fine! i'll look it up!" you grabbed drew's phone off your nightstand since it was closest, a smirk on your face, he really thought he'd be right?
your smile dropped when you seen an imessage notification from a person named "odessa" and the message read 'don't come running back to me when you realize she doesn't have SHIT to offer you. bye drew.' you weren't the instigator type, you hated causing issues, but that message had to be about you, who else would it be about? curiously, you couldn't help but click on it, drew had never mentioned anyone named odessa. upon clicking on it, you didn't know how to feel.
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you shut his phone, " sooo, what's the word?" he chuckled. you threw his phone on the open bed in front of you, you'd been through this too many times to let it happen again and you learned it's best to bring up issues before it gets even worse. "who's odessa?" you asked shamelessly, it wasn't in any specific negative tone or upset tone, but it wasn't exactly in a positive tone either. "shit," drew huffed. "she's still blowing up my phone?"
"who is she?" you repeated yourself, this time some anger was showing. drew dropped everything he was doing and sat next to you on the bed, he didn't see a point in lying and trying to make you feel like you didn't see what you very clearly saw; that's why you liked him. he didn't bullshit, and neither did you. "her and i were thing." he rubbed his head, you hadn't ever seen him this anxious before. "but we're over, i swear."
"she doesn't seem to think so." you added, fiddling with your fingers. you trusted drew though, not once did he ever make you feel less than, ever. you hated even letting your mind go there, you both had invested too much into each other's lives and even thinking about not being with him made you physically sick. he had practically adopted the father role in your babies life, if he were to leave you don't think you ever let a man get as close to you as he has.
"i know." drew sighed, he didn't really have an excuse as to why he was still texting her. it wasn't like he was saying anything bad or hurtful about you or towards you, but it still hurt to think that a conversation was going on like that behind your back. "i'm sorry, seriously." drew rubbed your thigh. "i'm serious about you and baby, you're both the best thing that's ever happened to me, and i'm not just saying that."
"her and i are done. we've been done." he continued. "the night i met you i knew, i knew i wanted you. i literally wouldn't shut up about you to my friends. i want you, i want baby, you know i'd do anything anything for you two. i'm sorry y/n." he pulled you into his chest, you melted at his touch. "i mean you did kind of clock her." you giggled.
"clocked her?"
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theonottsbxtch · 9 months ago
Note
YO. hear me out logan sargeant smau where reader is alex albon’s sibling and after logan gets axed from williams (😭😭😭😭😭😭) they actually start talking
COOKIE | LS2
an: gahhh i love logan so much and i can't believe i haven't written the teammate's sister dynamic with him yet, but now i have and i hope you enjoy our favourite american x
fc: random brunette's off pinterest
williamsracing
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we'd like to thank logan sargeant for all the time he's spent as a driver for williams racing, we wish for the best in his career as he moves on.
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userone: this was handled badly
usertwo: im going to miss you logan
userthree: james vowles worst tp of the century
userfour: bunch of clowns
alex_albon: will miss you lo x
userfive: finally williams did one good thing
usersix: poor logan
ynalbon: will miss your smile around the paddock lo x
userseven: williams sucks
imessage between yn and logan
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alex's apartment monza race week
The faint sounds of bustling activity were drifting through the apartment as you stood in the kitchen, sunlight streaming in through the large window. Alex’s sleek, modern space was a comforting mix of his racing memorabilia and the warmth of home. Pulling your phone from your pocket and glancing at the news alert once more. Logan had just been sacked and very quickly replaced. A heavy sigh escaped your lips; you knew how much this meant to him, how closely tied his identity was to the sport.
As you leaned against the countertop, you glanced down at Stan, one of your brother’s man cats, casting expectant eyes in your direction. He nudged your leg with his nose, as if sensing your mood. You crouched down, scratching behind his ears absentmindedly, your mind swirling with thoughts of Alex and the fact that he was getting ready to race in Monza with a new teammate. The team dynamics had shifted, and you couldn’t help but you could feel how the changes had affected Alex.
The idea strikes you suddenly—Logan lived across the hall, he hadn’t moved out yet. You remembered how he always seemed to light up the room, his laugh infectious even in the darkest of moments. You decided that a small gesture might help lift his spirits. Maybe a little treat would remind him that he wasn’t alone in all of this.
You set to work, gathering ingredients from the kitchen. Flour, sugar, and eggs scattered across the countertop as you rummaged through the cabinets. Stan watched you curiously, jumping up onto the counter and tilting his head as you started mixing the batter for chocolate chip cookies. The scent of melting butter and sugar filled the air, sweet and comforting, reminding you of simpler times when you spent all your time out of school baking for your brother in between his competitions.
You popped a spoonful of the thick, glossy batter into your mouth, savouring the taste of nostalgia. With each stir, your thoughts drifted back to the late-night conversations you had with Logan after the races when everyone was setting down, the way he would joke about the pressures of the track, the bond that formed between the three of you by some weird miracle.
As you shaped the dough into perfect little balls and placed them on the baking tray, the oven preheating with a soft hum. You couldn’t help but smile at the thought of Logan’s expression when he tasted them. You knew he had a sweet tooth, often indulging in baked goods after a long day of training.
While the cookies baked, the kitchen filled with a warm, inviting aroma. You sat on the counter, swinging your legs next to Stan. You thought about Logan again, about the pressure he must be feeling, and how a small act of kindness might brighten his day, if only for a moment.
The timer dinged, and you hopped down, excitement bubbling within you. You carefully pull the tray from the oven, the golden-brown cookies looking perfect and slightly gooey in the centre. As you let them cool down, you grabbed a small tin and placed the cookies inside, sealing them with a lid.
Stan watched as you grabbed the keys, tilting his head again as if asking where you’re going. “Stay here, buddy. I’ll be back soon, and make sure the rest of the cats don’t do anything silly” you said, giving him a quick scratch behind the ears. You glanced in the mirror, smoothing your hair before stepping out into the hallway.
You walked the few steps to Logan’s apartment, knocking softly, the sound echoing against the walls. Moments later, you heard the shuffle of feet and the door swung open, revealing Logan, looking slightly surprised but smiling at the sight of you.
“Hey! What brings you here?” he asked, his voice coloured by his shock.
You held up the tin with a grin. “Thought you could use some cookies after. First race since you know.”
His expression shifted, a mixture of surprise and appreciation crossing his face. “You made these for me?” he asked, reaching for the tin, the warmth of his smile easing the tension in your chest.
Logan grinned, his eyes lighting up even more as he popped open the tin. “These look amazing! I was just about to start a movie. Want to join?” You could tell he was figuring a way to ask.
For a moment, you considered it, the thought of settling into a cosy couch with him, laughter echoing as you watch a film together. But then you remembered the little furballs waiting for you in Alex’s apartment, their mischievous antics demanding your attention.
“I’d love to, but… I really should stay here with Stan and the rest of the cats,” you replied, feeling a twinge of disappointment yourself as you watched the initial spark in Logan’s expression flicker. His shoulders slumped slightly, and you could see the hint of disappointment in his eyes.
“But...” you hesitated, feeling a burst of warmth rise in your chest. “You could always come over.”
His expression shifted from disappointment to surprise, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Are you sure? I don’t want to impose.”
“No, it’s fine! It’ll be fun, Alex doesn’t get back for another four days,” you insisted, trying to sound more enthusiastic. You stepped back, giving him room to think it over.
“Alright, then!” he said, his voice brightening again. “Let me just grab my keys.”
As he disappeared inside his apartment, you took a moment to collect your thoughts. Your heart raced a little at the idea of him coming over, the casual invitation feeling more significant than you had intended. 
Logan reappeared a moment later, a hoodie thrown on over his t-shirt, and you couldn’t help but notice how comfortable he looked, a sudden urge to hug him washing over you. “After you,” he said, falling into step behind you as you headed down the hallway.
As you walked back to Alex’s apartment, the air buzzed with unspoken energy. You pushed the door open and stepped inside, the familiar scents of cookies enveloping you. Stan greeted you with an enthusiastic brush of his body against your legs, bounding over to Logan, who bent down to give him a quick scratch behind the ears.
“Looks like you’re already popular,” you teased, watching as Stan practically flops onto his back, craving attention.
“I have a way with cats,” he replied with a grin, straightening up and looking around. “So, what’s on the movie menu?”
“Cars? Mine and Alex’s favourite. You can pick—unless you want to help me wrangle the cats first,” you laughed, walking over to the living room where a large, comfy sofa waited. You felt the soft cushions call to you as you settled in, motioning for him to join you.
He took a seat beside you, and you couldn’t help but notice how easily you fell into conversation, the nerves dissipating as you laughed and joked around. Pulling the tin of cookies onto your lap, you offered him one. Logan took a generous bite, his eyes widening in delight.
“Wow, these are incredible! You’ve outdone yourself,” he said, and you couldn’t help but beam at the compliment.
“Thank you! They’re a family recipe, so you know they come with some serious baking credentials,” you said, a playful glint in your eye.
As you scrolled through the movie options, the atmosphere felt easy and relaxed. For the first time since Alex left you before Monza you didn’t feel to lonely.
The opening credits rolled, and for a moment, you sat in comfortable silence, the warmth of the cookies and Logan’s presence wrapping around you like a cosy blanket. You glanced sideways at him, catching him grinning at the screen, and your heart swelled a little more.
You were glad you made those cookies now.
ynalbon
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baking and night in >>
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userone: she is so pretty
usertwo: KATCHOW
userthree: i need her to bake me something stat
logansargeant: best cookies known to mankind
userfour: wait-
userfive: oh..?
alex_albon: now wait a god damn minute
usersix: my fav ever
userseven: someone needs to study the albon family genes
alex_albon has posted a story
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alex’s apartment singapore race week
The hallway felt familiar under your feet now, the subtle creak of the floorboards as you crossed from Alex’s door to Logan’s. It had become a kind of routine, these quiet visits to each other’s apartments while you were housesitting. Sometimes it was to share a plate of freshly baked cookies or just to unwind after a long day. You’d fallen into an easy rhythm with him, a shared understanding that neither of you had to say much to enjoy the other’s company.
As you knocked softly on his door, you didn’t expect anything unusual. But when the door opened, the first thing you noticed was the packed bag by the entryway. Your smile faltered just a little, your eyes flicking from the luggage to Logan, who stood in front of you, rubbing the back of his neck. There was a slight tension in the air, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.
“Hey,” he said, his voice softer than usual. He stepped aside to let you in, but the bags remained in your peripheral vision, a silent question hanging between you.
“Hey,” you replied, trying to keep your tone light. “Going somewhere?”
Logan glanced at the bags, then back at you, his lips pressing together for a moment. “Yeah… I’ve been meaning to tell you. I’m heading to America for a few weeks. Got an offer to test for Indy.” His voice was calm, but you caught a hint of something else underneath—maybe uncertainty or excitement.
Your stomach dropped just a little at the news. It shouldn’t surprise you—racing had always been his world, his dream—but it still hit harder than you had expected. “America?” You repeated the word softly, trying to wrap your mind around the distance.
“Yeah,” he said, leaning against the doorframe, his hands shoved in his pockets. “It’s not set in stone, but they want me to test, see if I’m a good fit.”
“That’s… amazing, Lo,” you said, a genuine smile tugging at your lips despite the sudden knot in your chest. You’d always known he was destined for more, something bigger than these quiet evenings in a shared hallway.
“Thanks,” he replied, his own smile faint but appreciative. He watched you closely, as if gauging your reaction.
You stepped further into the room, glancing once more at the bag, before turning back to him. “I’ll miss you,” you admitted, the words coming out before you could think to soften them. It was the truth, plain and simple, though you hadn’t realised how much his presence had come to mean to you until now.
Logan looked at you for a long moment, something softening in his expression. “I’ll miss you too,” he said quietly. His words were steady, but there was an unmistakable sincerity behind them, as if they meant more than he’s letting on.
The air between you felt heavier now, filled with the things neither of you were saying. The silence stretched on, but it wasn’t uncomfortable—just the weight of the realisation that something had shifted.
You laughed softly, trying to break the tension. “Guess I’ll have to bake my cookies for Stan instead.”
Logan chuckled, though there was still a warmth in his eyes that made your heart ache just a little. “Yeah, I’ll bet he won’t mind. But I’ll miss them… and you.” He said it again, the words lingering in the space between you.
You both stood there, neither quite knowing what to say next. The easy back-and-forth you’d grown so used to had shifted into something more meaningful, something deeper. And as much as you were happy for him—excited for the possibilities ahead—there was a small part of you that wished you could keep these moments just a little longer.
“When do you leave?” you asked, your voice quieter now.
“Tomorrow morning,” he replied, his eyes never leaving yours.
Tomorrow. It felt so soon, so sudden, but you nodded, offering him another small smile. “Well, I hope it’s everything you want it to be.”
He stepped closer then, just a little, as if drawn to you. “Thanks,” he said, his voice low. “I’ll be back before you know it.”
You nodded again, but the reality of it felt different, like something precious slipping through your fingers. And yet, there was no bitterness, only a quiet acceptance that this was the path he’d always been on.
You gave Logan one last smile before turning back toward the door. “I'm going to head back to the cats.”
As much as you hated the thought of him leaving, there was nothing more to say. His world was racing, and you knew how important this opportunity was for him. Stan and the rest of the cats would be wondering where you are by now, and you began to tell yourself it was better not to linger.
Your hand was on the door handle when you heard his voice, quiet but insistent.
“Wait.”
You stopped, heart skipping a beat, and turned back toward him. He was standing in the middle of the room, his brows slightly furrowed, as if debating something with himself. His eyes met yours, searching for a moment, and then he took a step toward you.
“Don’t go yet,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.
Something shifted in the air between you, the tension tightening around the words you hadn’t spoken. You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, he closed the space between you. His hand reaching out, brushing against your arm, the warmth of his touch sending a shiver up your spine.
“Lo…” you started, your voice catching in your throat, but the look in his eyes made your heart race. There was no need for words now. You’d shared so many moments, so many small, unspoken things, and suddenly it all felt like it had been leading to this.
He leaned in, and everything else fell away—the packed bags, the uncertainty, the days apart that lay ahead. His lips met yours gently at first, tentative, as if testing the waters. But then something deeper took over, the kiss becoming more sure, more real.
You sank into it, your hands instinctively finding his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his hoodie as if to hold on to him, to this moment. His hand cupped the side of your face, thumb brushing softly along your cheek, anchoring you to him in a way that felt both overwhelming and perfect.
The kiss deepened, the world narrowing to just the two of you. It was everything you didn’t realise you’d been waiting for—his closeness, the feel of him, the quiet intensity in the way he pulled you toward him as if he was afraid to let go.
When you finally parted, you were both breathless, standing there in the stillness of his apartment. Your forehead resting against his, the shared warmth between you a quiet comfort. Neither of you spoke right away, but the weight of what just happened lingered in the air, filling the silence with unspoken promises.
“I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” Logan finally said, his voice rough, almost a confession. He still hadn’t let go of you, his hand sliding from your cheek to your shoulder, as if grounding himself in the moment.
You let out a shaky laugh, your own hands still resting against his chest. “I’m glad you did.”
He smiled then, that soft, crooked smile that had always made your heart skip a beat. “I really am going to miss you.”
Your chest tightens at the words, but this time, there was a new kind of warmth behind them. It was no longer just a casual statement—it was filled with meaning, with everything that passed between you in that kiss.
“I’ll miss you too,” you whispered, your voice soft as you leaned into him again, the closeness between you now something tangible and real.
For a moment, neither of you moved, standing there in the middle of his apartment, lost in this bubble you’d created. But then you heard the faint sound of probably Stan scratching at the door across the hall, and it brought you back to reality, reminding you of the world outside.
“I should go,” you said reluctantly, your forehead still pressed against his, though now you were reluctant to pull away.
Logan nodded, his thumb brushing your skin one last time before he stepped back. “I know.”
You moved toward the door, this time with a weight in your chest that felt different—full of things you still wanted to say, but that could wait for another time. You glanced back at him one last time, his eyes following you, filled with the same mixture of emotions you felt.
“Good luck,” you said softly, your hand lingering on the doorknob. “I’ll be here when you get back.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” he replied, and the sincerity in his voice tugged at your heart.
ynalbon
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missing my cookie (also looky says hi)
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userone: NO SHES IN A RELATIONSHIP KILL ME NOW AND MAKE IT QUICK
usertwo: there goes my chance
userthree: PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE DON’T LET IT BE SOME MEDICORE BORING MAN PLEASE GOD PLEASE
userfour: we lost her ☹️☹️
alex_albon: i think you have something to tell me
lilymhe: i think you have something to tell US
ynalbon: oh wont you look at that, looky has started cooking dinner, need to go help out!
userfive: now who the heck is cookie
usersix: i think i know what’s happening 🤭🤭
logansargeant: that’s one grumpy ass cat
alex_albon: watch how you talk to my kid
ynalbon: yeah watch how you talk to my nephew
alex_albon: i thought you needed to go help looky cook?
ynalbon: 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️💨
userseven: FUCK I THOUGHT SHE WAS FOR THE GIRLIES NOO
alex's apartment autumn break
Walking into your Alex’s apartment, you were greeted by the familiar scent of coffee and the quiet hum of an afternoon sports program playing in the background. Stan padded over to you, meowing as you bent down to give him a quick scratch behind the ears.
“I’m just grabbing my jacket,” you called out, heading toward the living room where Alex was sprawled on the couch, watching something about Premier League Football.
He glanced up from his phone, half-focused on the screen and half on you. “Sure, no rush.”
You pulled open the closet door and rummaged around for the jacket you left here the other night, the one you’d forgotten in the rush to go pick up said brother from the airport because “he was too tired to drive home”. As you tugged it off the hanger, Alex’s voice cut through the silence, casually.
“I’m heading to America next week to support Logan during his testing,” he said, almost offhandedly. “Thought I’d ask if you wanted to come with me.”
Your movements stilled for a moment as his words sank in. You tried to act nonchalant, but your heart skipped a beat at the mention of Logan—memories of your last night with him flooding back in an instant. That kiss. The way he’d held you like he didn’t want to let go. The late night facetime calls and watch parties held.
You pulled your jacket out of the wardrobe and closed the door slowly, turning to face Alex. “Why would I want to go?” you asked, trying to keep your tone casual, maybe a little too casual.
He didn’t even look up from his phone, but you could see the smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Come on, I’m not stupid,” he said, finally glancing up at you, eyebrow raised.
Your stomach flipped, and you quickly dropped your gaze, hoping your face didn’t betray the warmth creeping up your cheeks. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He rolled his eyes, sitting up a little straighter on the couch. “You really think I haven’t noticed? The way you and Logan have been on those little secret calls? The way you light up when his name comes up?” He leaned back, folding his arms across his chest, clearly enjoying how uncomfortable he was making you. “I’m your brother. It’s kind of my job to notice.”
You bit your lip, feeling caught and not quite sure how to deflect. “We’re just… friends,” you mumbled, though even you didn’t sound convinced.
He raised his eyebrows, clearly not buying it. “Right. Just friends who happen to pop into each other’s apartments all the time. And who bake each other baked goods. And who look at each other like…” He trailed off, smirking again, clearly enjoying your discomfort.
“Okay, okay, stop,” you groaned, burying your face in your hands for a moment, trying to hide the smile that was threatening to break through. When you peeked up at him, he was still watching you with that knowing look.
“So?” he asked, clearly waiting for you to admit what he already knew.
You sighed, dropping your hands. “Fine. Yes. I’ll go with you.”
Alex grinned, triumphant. “I knew it.”
You grabbed a pillow from the couch and tossed it at him, but he just laughed, catching it effortlessly. “Don’t make a big deal out of it,” you warned, though you couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. It'd been at least a week since Logan left for America, and even though you’d kept yourself busy, you’d missed him more than you care to admit. The idea of seeing him again, of surprising him there, made your heart race in a way you hadn’t felt in a long time.
“I won’t,” Alex said, though the twinkle in his eye suggested he wasn’t not entirely telling the truth. He stood up, stretching his arms over his head. “It’ll be fun. Besides, I’m sure Logan will be glad to see you.”
You rolled your eyes, trying to play it cool, but inside you were already imagining what it would be like to see Logan again. “Yeah, yeah,” you muttered, heading toward the door. “Let me know when we’re leaving.”
As you turned the handle, Alex called out after you, voice teasing. “Don’t forget to pack something cute!”
You threw him a glare over your shoulder, but the door was already swinging shut behind you, and you couldn’t help but laugh to yourself as you headed back to your place, thoughts of Logan filling your mind.
By Friday you were in the hot American Sun. The hum of engines and the low chatter of mechanics surrounded you as you step onto the pit lane at the American track, the late afternoon sun casting a golden hue over everything. The sound and energy of the place were both exciting and overwhelming, but all you could think about was finding him.
Alex walked a few steps ahead, already scanning the area for new faces, but your eyes darted around, searching for Logan. The journey here had been long, full of anticipation, and now that you were so close, your heartbeat a little faster, eager for the moment you’d been waiting for.
And then, you spotted him.
Logan was standing near one of the garages, his back to you at first, talking to a few team members. He was wearing his racing suit, the top half unzipped and hanging around his waist, revealing a fitted t-shirt beneath. You froze for a second, just taking him in, that familiar rush of emotions surging through you.
He must have felt your gaze because suddenly he turned around, his eyes sweeping across the pit lane—until they landed on you. His face lit up instantly, and before you could even think, your feet were moving.
You broke into a run, dodging past a few crew members and weaving between equipment, Alex forgotten behind you. Logan’s grin widened as he stepped forward, bracing himself as you closed the distance. When you reached him, you threw your arms around his neck, and in one swift, effortless motion, he caught you, lifting you off the ground.
You laughed, the sound light and free, as he spun you around, the world momentarily disappearing in the rush of joy and adrenaline. His hands were firm on your waist, holding you close, and when he finally set you back on your feet, neither of you could stop smiling.
Before you could say a word, he pulled you in, his lips found yours in a kiss that was both urgent and tender. It was a kiss that made the long days apart disappear, one that said everything you’d both been holding onto since he left. The noise of the track faded into the background, leaving just the two of you, lost in the moment.
But then, from somewhere behind you, you heard a not-so-subtle clearing of the throat.
You pulled back from Logan, cheeks flushed, and glanced over your shoulder to see Alex standing there, arms crossed, eyebrow raised in a way that was both amused and exasperated. Logan looked over too, blinking like he’d just come back to reality.
“Sorry,” Logan muttered, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, his usual confidence slipping for just a second.
Alex shook his head but walked forward with a grin. “Nah, man, you’re good,” he said, clapping Logan on the shoulder in a way that was more approving than anything else. “Just… maybe keep the PDA down when I’m around, yeah?”
You rolled your eyes, but you were grinning too, feeling the warmth of Logan’s arm still around you. “I’ll try to keep him under control,” you said, shooting your brother a teasing look.
“Good luck with that,” your brother muttered, shaking his head with a chuckle. “Anyway, I’ll leave you two for a bit. Want to see what this Indy Racing is all about.” He waved lazily and headed off toward the paddock, giving you and Logan some space.
As he disappeared into the crowd, Logan turned back to you, his grin returning, though there was a slight blush colouring his cheeks. “So… surprise?”
You laughed, standing on your tiptoes to press a quick kiss to his cheek. “Yeah, I’d say you’re surprised.”
“I can’t believe you’re here,” he said, pulling you closer, his voice softer now that the moment had quieted down. “It’s been… weird without you.”
“I missed you too,” you admitted, resting your head against his chest for a moment, the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your ear comforting. “And besides, I couldn’t let you have all the fun over here without me.”
He chuckled, his arms tightening around you. “I’m about to test, but maybe you could go sit in the tent over there with the other girlfriends?”
You glanced up at him, raising an eyebrow. “The other girlfriends?”
Logan smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Don’t play coy, you were mine the minute you kissed me back in my apartment.”
You laughed, nudging him playfully. “Damn maybe I shouldn’t have kissed you back then.”
He smirked, that familiar glint in his eye. “Don’t be stupid now. Come on cookie, let’s go over to the tent, I want to introduce my cool and sexy girlfriend.”
logansargeant
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liked by alex_albon, ynalbon, lilymhe and 985,342 others
got the best fan ever
*tap to load more comments*
userone: oh my god
usertwo: i just fell to my knees in the middle of walmart parking lot
userthree: at least our logan is happy
alex_albon: yuck
logansargeant: hater
userfour: that's alex's sister omg
userfive: what in the fanfiction
usersix: is that alex's sister? how did that happen?
logansargeant: she texted me after the news and then dropped off some "feel better soon" cookies and it's pretty much been history since then, i'm a lucky guy😊😊
usersix: oh my god i'm sick
ynalbon: this was not on my 2024 bingocard btw
logansargeant: its' been on mine since 2022
userseven: OH MY GOD THEY'RE SO CUTE
ynalbon
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liked by logansargeant, alex_albon, lilymhe and 334,236 others
no longer just a formula one sister, im now an indy wag 🤭
*tap to load more comments*
userone: WE LOST HER SOLDIERS
usertwo: if i see one more picture of them baking, i'm kissing my gun
userthree: most unexpected couple of 2024
alex_albon: who tf is going to look after my cats?
ynalbon: bring them to america
alex_albon: how about no?
ynalbon: hater much?
userfour: this is too cute
userfive: thank you for looking after logan for us
lilymhe: ignore the haters babe, you two are very cute (@/alex_albon)
ynalbon: yes ma'am
alex_albon: ARE YOU CALLING MY EX TEAMMATE CUTE?!
usersix: i was mourning the loss of aa23 and ls2 but yn has solved all my issues
logansargeant: 🍪🤍
the end.
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2tarbell · 10 months ago
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hi 💖!
has tp!rafe ever gotten into a fight to defend reader? im swooning thinking about how she’d be the one to patch him up and feeling guilty and rafe shutting that down so quickly bc she’s his girl, basically his wife and he’d never not defend her.
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oh definitely!!!!! that’s his girl and he’ll be damned if someone tries to say shit about her. not on his watch.
they’re at a bar or something and she’s all drunk and giggly — her sweet self having the time of her life. he’s watching her, hand on her hip and holding her up right. maybe she’s leaning on tipsy & stumbles a bit, foot catching and she slightly falls into someone leaning against the bar. rafe catches her smoothly, mumbling in her ear about taking it easy. but when the douche she accidentally bumped shoulders with turns and yells at her? he’s ready for anything but easy. his anger so controlled and calculated.
“woahhh— fuck you say to her? what did he say, baby? i— i gotta be losin’ my mind ‘cause i— i know you didn’t talk to my fuckin’ girl like that, man.”
so they’re back at the trailer, rafe sitting at the table and letting her fuss over him. reader sobered up instantly at the sight of his fist colliding into the other guy. and her man for sure won the brawl — but he still endured some punches. her lip is caught between her teeth as she dabs at a cut on his cheek. rafe has his hands on her hips, trying to soothe her anxiety, as his face is angled up at her. she always hated when he fought. mumbling about you didnt have to do that and get hurt, daddy :C.
“‘course i fuckin’ did. i’d do it again, too. you know i don’t— i don’t play ‘bout that shit. not when it comes to you.”
he’s getting all worked up again and she cups his face, staring down at him as sternly as she can manage. mumbling a whiny rafeeee. she looks so cute and puppy like, he can’t help himself but chuckle. pulling her in more and holding onto the back of her thighs. his chin rests on her stomach, peering up at her, his eyes deep and enchanting.
“listen t’me — you know you’re my priority, sugar. dad’s not gonna let that shit slide, a’ight? ‘m alright, promise. c’mere.”
then she’s melting into his kiss, leaning forward and letting her body weight be held up by him. it’s a slow, delicate press of their lips that immediately pulls them both fully in. attention zoned in on the warmth of tongues and the taste of vodka & cigarettes on their breath. reader knows things will all be okay, long as rafe will take care of it.
(then he’s fucking her slow & deep as an apology)
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