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prael · 2 months ago

Text

Positions

Le Sserafim Kazuha x male reader

words: 5.6k Masterlist

Distrust is a funny thing because it should be fairly easy to hide, yet everyone always knows when you're looking at them with it.

He's giving you that look. It's written all over his face. In big, black, bold letters. And yet he hasn't said anything. Betrayal has left him more like a scolded puppy than a vengeful husband.

He doesn't even watch her get out of the car and approach your studio, just looks on at you like it's all your fault, and he's not the one to blame. No one is blameless here - that's for certain. Then he suffers the humiliation for all three of you, though. You don't feel much shame - and she obviously doesn't feel any. So he has to take the brunt of it. That's his penance to bear, and it's why he scowls so hard.

She doesn't even glance his way. Her focus is solely on you. There is something so wrong with that. It's sick - how you can feel like you've broken a man without ever even meeting him.

"Morning, Zuha," you speak as you bow and let her inside your studio. She is a sight, as she is in her usual garb: tight, stretchy pants, and a top which clings to her body, showing off her figure. Today's ensemble is light blue, top and bottom. It complements her skin tone and the deep, dark wave of hair, which, for once, isn't up in a ponytail. It flows over her shoulders, past them, to mid-back, and you wonder why she bothers tying it back if it looks so beautiful when loose.

She's wearing a wide smile, in complete contrast to the man she leaves outside. There is nothing to suggest that this is a day where she does anything other than go about her regular routine of exercise and self-care, but there are a lot of lies here. Her lies. His too.

She's quiet as she walks past. You close the door, shutting out her external ties to the real world, and turning to her. Eyes - warm and inviting - scan your appearance, taking in your casual clothing. It isn't like her to not say anything when she comes in, and it isn't like you to just let her stand in the middle of the studio without a word of instruction. Today, though, today isn't about the usual.

"Kazuha," you begin to say, which she immediately interrupts.

"I've been practising," she informs you, her tone more excited than you have heard it in a while, which, in itself, isn't a surprise to you.

"Maybe you'd like to show me how you're getting on," you reply, but you don't even need to finish speaking to have her nod in agreement and begin to take her position. She faces the mirror at the far side of the studio. You stand behind her. You watch her, and she watches herself. She likes to look at her own body as she stretches it to its limits.

You would be the first to say it's an impressive sight to witness.

She lifts both hands, then bends over and places the flats of both palms on the ground. She's doubled over, her ass in the air. Her legs are stretched taut, straight and firm, and she holds the position.

"I have to ask," you say, taking a step closer to her. "Is this going to be a lesson or a performance?"

She looks up at you from between her legs, head upside down, "Just watch."

She crawls her hands forward and slides her feet outwards. Her legs get wider and her ass begins to sink towards the ground - it's pulled so taut. Round and firm, even though you know it's a soft cushion from personal experience. You watch her legs spread full as she completes the splits. She leans forward and places her chest flat on the ground. Her back is as tense as her thighs and legs, but there's much less fabric there to hide the definition. You watch the way she arches her spine and her shoulders flex to pull herself off the ground, pushing herself back upwards, hands flat to the floor, her legs straight and stretched as far as possible.

She looks over her shoulder at you, and she has the most beautiful of smiles. It's a wide grin complemented by the slight blush on her cheeks and the sparkle of mischief in her eyes. It's a look she has given you many a time - a look you know well. A look that has been etched into your memory for many months. The unforgettable kind.

She knows exactly what you're looking at and she lets out the breathiest of laughs before she speaks, "How's my form?" And she knows it's good. You know she's not asking for your professional opinion on how she's getting along with the splits, she wants you to tell her that her ass looks amazing, which you do.

"It's perfect."

"I can go further, remember, just lift my legs up into the air," she reminds you.

"Yeah, I remember." She had been a natural from the start. Her legs had no trouble with the stretches. They had no issue being forced apart and being suspended at all. "I think we should work on that now, actually."

"And why's that?" she asks with a coy look as she brings her outstretched legs around in front of her and then pushes herself back to her feet.

"Well," you say, as you walk over to her. You take her hand, and then you lead her towards the mirrored wall with the bar for support. "You want the honest answer or the professional one?"

She laughs again. It's a delightful sound, her laugh. It makes your chest tight. "Both."

"Well, professionally," you begin, releasing her hand so she can hold the rail and look at herself in the mirror. You stand behind her, with your hands on her waist and speak into her ear. "Professionally, it's a challenge to your body's strength, balance, and mobility." Your hand travels along the smooth curve of her hip.

"Is that so?" she says with a hint of amusement, as her breathing grows more laboured.

"Mhm," you reply, as your fingers caress down the back of her thigh. You hold her leg in your palm, fingers settling on her inner thigh, ready to guide her into position.

"And the other thing?" She asks, breathless.

"The honest thing?" You ask, but she doesn't reply. "The honest thing is, I like seeing your body pushed to the limit."

"Oh," is all she says, in some pseudo-agreeing and nonchalant tone before she starts to raise her leg. She holds the rail, and you guide her leg up, past the horizontal and all the way to the vertical. It's straight and high, and her standing leg is stable, even with her bare feet. "Like this?"

"Yes. Like that. How's your balance?"

"It's fine. I've got a strong core, you know that."

"All too well," you say as you slip your hand along her inner thigh. No longer supporting, you encroach on the thin barrier between you and the apex of her thighs. Your fingers press against her. The material is tight and thin. You can feel her warmth, even through the layers of fabric.

"You know my husband is right outside." Her tone isn't accusatory, not at all. If anything, she sounds excited. Thrilled even. Her words seem to encourage you, and your hand presses firmer into her crotch, the fabric rubbing against her.

"I know," you say as you look at the reflection, meeting her eyes by peering through the space between her head and her foot. You look at her and see the way she is watching your every move. You glance at the way her leg is up in the air. She's so stable, even as you rub her cunt. Your fingers press in, feeling for the folds beneath her pants, and then you slip a little lower and press your fingertip against her clit.

"Oh, fuck," she exhales with a low groan. You smirk at her reaction.

"Hold the pose," you tell her as your finger rubs in small circles. "Don't move."

She's biting her lip and her chest rises with each deep breath, as if trying to keep herself stable and standing. Her leg trembles, just slightly, and you can't help but laugh as you feel the muscles tense under your touch.

"Stay still," you whisper to her.

"You're making that difficult," she says with a short huff of a laugh.

"You want me to stop?"

"No." It comes out quick and firm.

You smirk, and you keep on rubbing her pussy through the thin, tight material of her pants. You press your hand in harder, as you look her body over. She looks divine. Her body is so tight, with her legs and thighs being pushed to their absolute limits. You watch the muscles of her neck flex and the tension in her shoulders as she holds herself stable, her head up to look in the mirror. She watches you, and watches her leg up in the air, as she tries to focus on anything other than the heat which floods between her thighs.

Her mouth opens slightly, her eyes close and her brow creases, but the moment her breath sounds more like a moan, she clamps her mouth closed and lets out a deep breath through her nose. It makes you smile. Her cheeks are glowing red. Her breath is heavy, and she's trying to be so quiet.

"How long do we have? How long will he wait out there?" you ask as you lean in closer. Her body shudders at the proximity. Your breath hits the exposed skin on her neck, making her tremble.

"As long as I need him to."

"Do you think you'll be able to hold the position while I make you cum?"

Her eyes open again, and she looks at your reflection. She's smiling. She nods, just slightly.

"You think you'll be able to stay balanced while you have my fingers in you?"

Her eyes flutter closed for a moment, and her breath leaves her in a short, sharp gasp. You know how to get to her. Her smile grows.

"I'd love to rip these open, but I can't send you home in ruined clothes," you whisper. It makes her giggle, a soft and amused noise. You pull her leg back down, and she stands there, hand on the railing, with a slight bend in her hips and a slight arch in her back. It pushes her ass out, and she does it with a purpose. She knows what she's doing. She knows exactly how she looks. "Never get tired of that ass," you comment as you grab it. A quick, firm squeeze. It's so pliable in your hand. She laughs.

You hook your fingers into the waistband of her blue yoga pants, pulling them down slowly. You expose the expanse of her back, the curve of her spine, the dimples just above her cheeks. And then, finally, her ass is bare. There's nothing underneath her pants but toned curves and soft flesh. Your eyes drink in the sight. It's not new to you, but it's always exciting.

She steps out of her pants, and as you toss the clothing aside, you watch her. The muscles of her thighs and legs are tense and tight, and her skin is so smooth. You run a hand up her calf, past the back of her knee, along her inner thigh. She burns under your touch. Your eyes wander over her. You can see her arousal; the shine on the lips of her cunt, the slight pink hue to her flesh. Your fingers brush over her. The wet sound is unmistakable. She moans at the sensation and the noise.

You stand, and she raises her leg again without being asked or instructed. She's watching you, her eyes on yours as her leg rises higher and higher. Your eyes wander down, along her leg, down to the place you can't help but be fixated on. It's a beautiful sight. Your hand comes down to caress her cunt, and you feel her lips and the wetness which seeps from between her thighs.

Your eyes rise to meet hers in the reflection, and she's smiling as you press two fingers inside of her.

"Fuck," she exhales in a short, breathy word. You can feel her pussy squeeze your fingers.

"You're soaked," you say as you watch her in the mirror.

"Been thinking about you all morning," she confesses as her head falls backwards and her hand grips the bar. Her fingers flex and tighten. Her body trembles.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"He ever got you this wet?" You can't help yourself. It slips from your mouth in a low, almost growl of a tone. You press your fingers in and pull them back out. You repeat it a few times, fucking your fingers in and out of her wet hole. She's so hot, her body trembling and tense.

"No," is all she says, her voice soft, her eyes opening again. She's watching you. "Not anymore," she adds with the slightest shake of her head. Her eyes close, and her lips open. Her mouth forms a perfect circle as you fuck your fingers in and out of her.

"He doesn't make you cum, does he, Zuha?" Your voice is a low rumble as you speak to her, watching her face contort and twist in the reflection. You look down, at the sight of her pussy wrapped around your two digits, the wet lips spread open as you fingerfuck her. She looks divine. Her legs are trembling, and she's so tense. You have to push in firmer to keep her stable.

"Only when he leaves me alone," she replies, breathlessly laughing.

"Only when he leaves you to think of me," you say with a grin as you curl your fingers inside her. Her hips buck, her body sways, and she lets out the softest whine. You press your thumb to her clit as your fingers rub inside of her. You feel her squeeze around them. She has to grab her leg, she can't keep it there on her own.

"Oh, god," she whines.

"Careful. Don't lose it now." She nods, her lip between her teeth, as her eyes screw shut. "You're nearly there," you say, in a soft tone as she writhes in front of you.

"So close," she whispers, hot and panting. Trembling and tense. You can feel it all; the way she tightens and flexes, her muscles clenching. It's a struggle for her to stay standing. She can't balance, even though her hand grips her leg and the other the railing, hard enough to make her knuckles turn white.

Her eyes fall closed. Her mouth hangs open slightly. Kazuha holds her breath.

She's cumming all over your fingers - a muted cry, muffled whines and whimpers, the tightening of her pussy and the spasming of her muscles, the tremor in her body and the gush of fluids which seeps from her. She's making a mess, though, from the waist up, you wouldn't know it. She's so elegant, even now, as she's being fingered in the dance studio with her husband outside. The only thing that betrays her calm appearance is her face, contorted and twisted with pleasure. She has her lip bitten, her brow creased and her jaw tense.

Finally, she relaxes, standing on two feet again as you pull your hand away and take a step back. She leans forward, forehead pressing against the cool, soothing glass. There's that same slight bend at the hips, that same arch in her back and the protrusion of her ass. Only this time, her cum seeps down her inner thigh.

You step against her again, your hands settling on her waist. She looks up at your reflection, smiling that satisfied, lazy grin.

"How's my balance? My composure?" she asks, amusement dancing in her tone.

"You're flawless."

"As are you," she compliments as you press a kiss to the back of her shoulder. "But..."

"But?" you repeat, lightly planting your hand against her butt, which she finds hilarious, as she laughs and shakes her head at you.

"But time's running out. It's only a one-hour session."

"Can't keep him waiting?" you tease. You already know that she doesn't care how long she leaves him waiting outside, but it is funny to watch her try to act like she does. She shrugs and gives a little non-committal sound. "We can still take our time, enjoy it." You kiss her neck. "There's still so much I want to see from you."

"What do you want to see?"

"You're a dancer. And dancing is all about the hips. You can move those things so beautifully."

She smirks and looks away, down at her own body, at her lower abdomen and the place where your hands are caressing her. She nods her head slowly as she bites her lip. "You wanna watch my ass shake, don't you?" She asks, still biting that bottom lip. She laughs as she watches you nod. She's right. So you nod, and she tells you: "Get on the floor then."

You don't even need a moment to process what she said to you. You get down, knees hitting the wooden boards. You sit back on your legs, and look up at her - she's standing in front of the mirrored wall. She looks over her shoulder. "Enjoying the view?" She asks, a teasing hint in her voice as she looks down at you. You look up, nodding and smirking.

"Immeasurably," you reply. You watch as her hips move, the muscles of her thighs flex, and the soft flesh of her backside shakes. She's hypnotic, her body swaying and her hips moving in slow circles. You reach up to grab her, hands on the back of her thighs as you watch the way she moves. She laughs at the way your fingers sink into the flesh. She's so warm under your palms.

"You can lie down if you'd like," she says as you watch the slow, rhythmic motion. "I'll put on a show." Your hands drop away, and you lower your back onto the floor. You watch as she looks at herself in the mirror and rolls her body. Each time, she sinks a little lower, bends at the knees, and her thighs flex. Her body rolls and she laughs, and you lie there and watch her move. Her hips shake, and her ass jiggles. "You won't need those pants."

It's a thinly-veiled instruction, and she knows it, but she still says it in the form of a statement, as if it isn't a command for you to undress. You pull them down and off, and then you toss the garment aside. As you do it, she steps over you. A barefoot on either side of your hips. She looks down, over her shoulder, and you barely see her smile. "I was wondering where that was," she says. Her tone is so casual, it's like you aren't naked on the floor in a studio, and her husband isn't waiting for her in the car park.

Kazuha lowers herself into a split, one foot on either side of you. Her legs are stretched out wide and her ass is right over your cock. You get to see her muscles flex, and you watch as she moves herself up and down, grinding herself against you. Your cock slips between her pussy lips and you feel her arousal soaking your length.

"I can feel you getting harder. You're enjoying the view, huh?" she asks as she leans forward. She puts a hand on the floor between your legs. You watch her, the arch of her back and the way her legs are spread wide. She grinds her cunt over the shaft of your cock and she lets out the softest, low moans.

"Never seen a body quite like yours, Zuha," you say as your hands run up her thighs and to her ass.

"That's why I'm doing these classes - keeping in shape, keeping myself limber," she replies as she pushes herself back up and then slides back down, her cunt grinding over your dick. You groan and watch as your cock throbs against her. She reaches under, to grab your cock, guiding it to her opening. "I like the look of you, too. You look good down there, like you belong beneath me."

Your hands are on her cheeks, thumbs rubbing her soft skin. She sinks, her cunt swallowing the first inch of your dick. It's a warm, slick sensation as she takes the tip inside. She's so tight. She stops. You're barely inside her, and she starts to bounce those hips. She's just taking the tip, in and out, shaking her ass over your cock. Flesh ripples as the tight heat squeezes around your tip. Your hands squeeze, your fingers sink in, and your thumbs pull her cheeks apart.

Her hips shake, and she takes you in a little further. It's just two or three inches, nothing more, but she rides that part of your cock like she wants nothing else. You watch as your tip disappears between her lips and reappears again as she rides your dick in slow, steady motions.

"God, I can't wait for you to fill me," she says in a breathy tone. You look up at her reflection in the mirror, watching the way her chest heaves with each deep breath and the slight flush to her face.

"Why wait?" you ask, and you watch as her head rolls back. She's grinning, and she laughs as she sinks herself down your full length. Her ass presses against your pelvis. Her body stills with your cock throbbing inside her.

"Oh, that feels so good," she groans, throwing her head further back. Her back arches more, and in the mirror, you can see the way she stretches her tight abs. That tight top rides up. It still caresses her little tits, but her belly is on show. You can even see her ribs when she's fully stretched.

She's running her hands up her body, fingers splaying on her stomach, and then she cups her chest. You watch in the reflection, seeing the way her body is contorted, and her cunt squeezes around you.

"You're stunning," you say, breathless and panting.

"You're so big," she replies as she runs her palms over her covered tits. Her thumbs trace over the top of the material. The tight fabric clings to her chest, but you want to see her without it.

She starts to ride. Her ass bounces over your hips, and you feel her pussy tighten with each movement. You can only admire the strength it must take to ride you in full splits, with her body contorted and her muscles stretched taut. But she does it, her body rolling in a smooth motion and her thighs tensing with each rise and fall of her ass.

Your hands are on her butt. Fingers sinking in, you guide her to a slower pace, and she moans as your dick slides inside her. She's watching in the mirror, seeing the way she takes all of you in. You watch it, too.

And then she does the most insane thing. She reaches back, leaning over you, and you take her hands to support her. As she arches further and further, stretching her core and her thighs - everything - you see it. Your cock bulges under her skin. The outline of your cock in her stomach as her skin pulls tight. She moans as she leans, arching her body and contorting it in the most insane of ways, and your eyes fix on her abdomen. You watch it as you start to thrust your cock inside her.

"Can you see that?" She asks. You nod, and she laughs as her eyes close and her head rolls. "That's so hot," she says, as her fingers flex in yours. She's squeezing tight. She's panting. She's stuck suspended over you, her body contorted in ways that would make most women - and men - very jealous.

You hold her like that and begin to thrust up into her. You feel her clench around you and you watch the outline of your dick in her stomach. Your eyes wander over her chest and the slight jiggle of her breasts beneath her top, and her legs outstretched. She's so flexible, and you take advantage of that. Your hands support hers as you fuck up into her.

"Oh god," she pants, her body writhing and twisting in your grasp. "I'm not going to last long," she warns you.

"I can feel that." It isn't hard to see that she's enjoying herself, but the physical reaction is just as apparent. You feel her tighten and squeeze, and you know it's only a matter of time.

You move a little faster, buck a little harder, and she can't stifle the strained moans anymore. She cries out, head back, moaning like a woman possessed, but she holds the pose and you hold her, as you feel her body shake and her cunt clench. She cums - cums hard. She gushes and her body quakes in your grasp, but she never falters, even though she is whining and whimpering in pleasure.

"Good, Zuha, so fucking good," you whisper to her, still moving your hips. She's panting and her eyes flutter as she tries to catch a breath and stay in the same position. "Look at yourself, taking all of my cock, even like that."

You keep bulging her stomach, the shape of your dick pushing outwards. You can feel yourself throbbing inside her, and you're close, so close, and you can feel the heat and pleasure pooling between your hips. You have to stop, or else you'll finish too. Her legs can't hold the split anymore, coming to a close on either side of your own body. You lower her gently against your chest. Her back to your front, your dick still throbbing inside her cunt.

She's panting and laughing and shaking. "You didn't finish." It's a question and a statement.

"No."

"I want you to."

"Not like this." You wrap your arms around her slender frame. Just lying there with her atop your chest feels wonderful, and with the added sensation of your dick inside her, it feels incredible.

"Tell me how," she says. Her head is resting on your shoulder, and she looks up at the ceiling. Her breathing is heavy, and her chest is still rising and falling rapidly.

"Against the wall. With your ankles over my shoulders." Her lips curl into a wide, amused smile.

"I think you just like my flexibility more than you like me," she jokes.

"Nah," you reply, as your hand runs up her body and to the tight material over her chest. You feel her nipples under the material, and as your fingertips run over the peaks of them, she shudders. Her cunt clenches in reaction to your touch and you let out a short laugh. "I like everything about you."

"Yeah?" she breathes the word out as you run your fingers over her hard nipple. You roll the peak under the material, pinching it between two fingers as she squirms against you.

"I'd list it all, but that would be quite the task, and your husband's waiting," you tell her. Your hand is sliding over the material of her top. You're feeling her tits under the fabric. You cup the small handful, and she's so soft in your palms. Your fingers squeeze her chest, feeling her warm flesh beneath your touch, even if the fabric is still covering her. You roll her nipple again and you feel her arch her back and her ass push down on your lap.

You pull up her top, enough to see the underside of her breasts, the slight curve of the lower part of each mound. It exposes her enough for you to slip your hand beneath the material and feel her naked breast in the palm of your hand. Her body trembles as your fingers rub over the stiff peak of her nipple.

"Come on," you whisper, and you slip out of her, and she pushes herself off you.

A few moments later, she's got her back to the wall. You're standing between her open legs and kissing her. Your tongues dance in each other's mouths, and she's pulling you in by your neck. Her hands are in your hair and your hands are on her body - her thighs, her ass.

"Gonna fuck me now?" She asks with her eyes closed and her head back against the mirrored wall.

"Gonna make a mess outta you, Zuha."

She laughs and looks down, watching as you lift her legs up, carrying her with the help of the wall and your arms under her knees. She's holding on to your neck. Her legs spread open. "Do your best," she says, before pulling you into a kiss. She has her fingers in your hair, and her thighs against your chest as you thrust into her. She lets out the softest gasp against your mouth.

It's the perfect angle, the perfect position. You can't get enough. You start to fuck into her in hard and fast thrusts of your cock, filling her tight cunt, and you can feel the pressure of her body against yours as her cunt clenches around you. She moans against your mouth. Her thighs shake.

You've got her pinned against the wall, pressed to the cool, smooth mirror, her thighs held in the crook of your arms, her calves dangling over your shoulders as you fuck her. You pull your mouth from hers and you watch the way her body moves, you push up her shirt to watch her cute little tits move with each hard, rough thrust. She looks up at you and smiles that lazy smile. She looks blissful, and content. Her eyes close, and her mouth opens. You watch as she lets out soft, breathy noises with each motion.

She has one hand on the mirror and one in your hair, her nails are scraping at the back of your scalp as you fuck her. Her thighs are tight, pressed against your chest and tensing. Her toes are curled. And her body, her slender, taut body, is moving in a smooth rhythm against the mirror.

It's mesmerising. She's folded in half, suspended in the air with the wall behind her and your body holding her up. You're pounding her into it, and she's letting out such filthy, sweet noises. At this point, she's a toy. A vessel to fuck. She looks beautiful. Her hair is loose and hanging down over her face. The colour is in her cheeks, the pink of arousal, and she's biting her lip.

She doesn't need any help, you know that. You're giving her what she wants. The way her cunt tightens around you tells you as much, and the sounds which fall from her lips are all the encouragement you need. "Harder," she tells you. You give her harder. She cries out in pleasure, head back, and eyes screwed closed. "Harder!" she repeats. So, again, you give her harder.

It's rough, but she can take it. Her body can take the pounding. Her pussy can take the fucking. She's cumming again, with her fingers clawing at the mirror and at your hair, with her legs tensed and her toes curled. You don't stop fucking her through the spasming and squeezing of her body. She writhes, her mouth open and moans tumbling forth from her throat, her eyes closing, and her cunt tightening.

"Please cum," she whimpers, as she trembles. You can see the tears of ecstasy in her eyes, and you know you've fucked her well and properly, but there's only one thing missing. "Fill me."

And you do, you slam your hips forward, burying yourself as far in as possible and you cum deep in her cunt, spurting inside of her, filling her. She's panting, smiling that wide grin. "Yes," is all she says, in a breathless moan, as your body shivers against hers and your seed spurts deep in her pussy. She's clenching her thighs, tensing them and squeezing her cunt around your cock.

You keep cumming until you can't anymore until the pleasure fades to oversensitivity. Her hands are stroking your neck, your chest. She's panting and her eyes are closed, and you just stay there, with your forehead resting against hers. You breathe in the scent of sweat, of her, and the smell of sex in the air. It's an incredible aroma, all of it. And she's an incredible woman.

"I have to get in that car, full of your cum," she laughs, as she kisses your mouth, her hands cupping your face.

"That's so dirty. So wrong." You laugh as you speak, and you feel her smile.

"So dirty, and so good."

You slowly let her legs down. She holds you for support. Kazuha slips her top back over her chest and you pull out of her, letting your dick slip from her warm, wet pussy. Her thighs tremble, and she has to steady herself.

"I should clean up, I might leak your cum on his leather seats," she laughs loudly. She's so full of life and joy, it's wonderful. "And that's a bit too much, even for me."

"One day he's going to walk in here, you know that?"

She nods. Her smile doesn't falter. "Probably. And when he does, he can see what I look like when I'm not faking it."

#Kazuha smut #lesserafim smut #le sserafim smut #le sserafim kazuha smut #Kazuha #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #m reader #male reader

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noisilyscreechingsong · 2 months ago

Text

I was thinking of those prompts where Danny is placed (most of the time by Clockwork) into the Batfam. Danny believes he’s been there the whole time and it’s after Bruce comes back from being trapped in time so they chalk it up to time shenanigans. Also, Danny is now Tim’s twin.

Warnings: some language

Danny skips down the stairs leisurely, headphones in to some rock song Damian would hate.

The Cave is damp and cold, as usual. The music blares out the sound of his sneakers tapping as he walks. He waves to B’s back as he continues on to the work bench. The project he had started the day before was still there.

One of the grapple hooks was lagging so he was fixing it up and added a few more safety measures on the device. His brothers were using this, he wanted it as safe as he can make it.

Behind him he hears a voice over the music, interrupting his work after only about half an hour. He turns and sees Bruce looking at him with a raised brow.

Danny pulls out an earbud.

“Huh?”

“I thought you were going to visit your friends?”

Danny thinks back to the last conversation he had with his dad. It had nothing to do with his friends actually, it was about his stupid English test and how he was going to call Jason if he could help tutor him since he was so hopeless.

“No, I’ll see them on Monday.”

“Monday?”

Danny pauses halfway to putting the earbud back in his ear.

“Yea? At school?”

“School?”

Bruce stands to step closer to him but still at a distance.

Danny rolls his eyes and chuckles.

“Are you just going to keep repeating what I say?”

His dad looks him over critically. Danny pauses his music and takes out the other earbud.

“Did you change your hair?”

Danny reaches up reflexively to pat down his bangs. If anything he probably needed a haircut soon.

“Um, no? Are you okay? When’s the last time you slept?”

He tosses his headphones on the workbench but keeps his phone in his hand in case he needs to call someone.

“I’ve recovered,” Bruce dismisses. Like his year long trip in the time stream could be easily forgotten after a few months.

“Sure,” Danny agrees anyway when they both know he doesn’t agree.

“Tim,” Bruce sighs.

Danny immediately presses the button on his ring three times to alert the others. The computer beeps and the man turns to look at the screen. Danny grabs the closest weapon — a screwdriver — and holds it behind him.

Only Alfred, Damian, and Duke were at the manor. Hopefully backup would arrive soon.

“What were you doing, Dad?”

Not-Bruce freezes and then relaxes. It was only a second but Danny noticed. Any of the Bats would have, they’re trained for it.

“Just going over reports,” Not-Bruce replies with a smile. A smile.

His grip on the tool tightens.

“Which reports?” He tests.

What was he doing? There’s no telling the kind of information this imposter got a hold of.

“The Bennet case.”

Danny moves. Casually, he takes a step to the left, where the more heavy duty weapons were stored. The man matches him threateningly. Danny stills.

“That was solved over a month ago.”

There was no reason to look at a case from a month ago that was solved and closed. Bruce would have no reason to look at something like that, especially since it was Tim who solved it and submitted the report.

“By you,” Not-Bruce says in an odd tone.

He was getting Tim and Danny mixed up. Nobody in the family gets them confused anymore. That only applies to outsiders.

Danny tenses, ready to bolt toward the weapons. Not-Bruce is fast to intercept, but Danny is smaller and more agile.

He dodges and goes to stab the man in the leg when there is a prick to his neck that makes him stumble. Not-Bruce uses that opportunity to disarm him and slam him into the floor. It’s jarring, but the sedative is already working its way through him.

He blinks twice before everything is forced to black.

He knows he’s tied to a chair before he’s even fully awake. There’s been numerous kidnappings and training exercises that had his hands and feet tied down to know exactly in what position he’s in and for how long depending on how numb his limbs are.

He’s still in the Cave because he can feel the damp chill and hear the faint chattering of the bats. There’s a barrier though. Along with how hard the chair was he knew exactly where he was.

The containment cell is tucked away in a separate cavern. It had thick microfiber see through walls and a single chair with restraints.

The imposter put him in their own cell.

Danny is positively livid with the disrespect.

“You’re awake.”

Danny jerks his head up.

Oh thank the Ancients, his twin is here.

“Tim,” he breathes. “Okay, I know this looks bad, but trust me. It’s Bruce. He couldn’t tell us apart. Something’s wrong. He’s not himself.”

Tim is silent for much too long, just staring at him. He’s in his uniform like he just got back from patrol when Danny knew he had been in California with his team.

“Just talk to me,” he demands. “What’s going on? Where’s B?”

Tim’s mask narrows.

“Why should I trust you?”

Danny blinks wide.

“Why should- okay, first of all, screw you. Second, now is so not the time to be petty with me. I already apologized for messing up your photo shoot. I even made up for it, so legally you can’t be mad at me anymore.”

“My photo shoot?”

Danny rolls his eyes. This seat was getting uncomfortable.

“Don’t pretend like you don’t know what I’m talking about. Stop being such a jerk. This is serious. I’m telling you something is off with B. Did you guys check him? I hit the emergency button.”

Danny can tell his twin raises a brow at him.

“You hit the emergency button?”

“I literally just said that. Do you listen at all?”

“I was just confirming,” Tim shrugs it off.

“Whatever. Tim, I think there’s someone else here. I got hit with a tranq. Someone is in on this. And can someone please get me out of these? I’m not the problem here.”

Unfortunately, Tim does not get him out of his bonds. He just stands there watching him until he turns on his heel and leaves the cavern where Danny can’t see.

“What the- Tim! What the hell, dude?!”

Danny wiggles in his seat, but the more thrashing the more it hurt. Instead he sits there for a while, just tracing the rock and counting, until someone comes back in.

It’s Dick. The one big brother who he can always count on to at least be there.

“Hey there,” he smiles through the glass.

“Dick, what is happening? Tim isn’t listening. Did you find Bruce? Why am I in here?”

“Yea, Bruce is here. He’s safe. I saw the tapes. It looked like you were going to attack him,” he reasons gently.

“Yea because something is wrong with him. Maybe he’s compromised or mind controlled or something. You need to investigate. He needs to be cleared,” Danny insists.

“Okay,” Dick nods. He squats down to get comfortable outside the barrier instead of going to find Bruce though. “What made you think he’s compromised?”

“He kept confusing me with Tim!” He emphasizes because just the thought is outrageous. “He hasn’t done that in years. Yea maybe a mix up when he’s not paying attention but he was looking right at me and called me Tim. And he kept asking me these weird questions, like he had no idea who I was. Something is wrong.”

Dick puts a hand over his lips in thought, clearly going over something in his head.

“I’ll be right back,” Dick rushes out the door in a flash.

Danny’s jaw drops in protest but no words come out. He yells in frustration instead.

No one was listening to him! They were all freaking him out.

Maybe this was training. Like on their sixteenth birthday. It’s similar to what happened then. So what is his next course of action?

“You make it sound like we should know you.”

Danny finds his little brother in the shadows, lurking by the entrance. He’s also dressed in his vigilante attire, just like Tim and Dick.

“Damian, could you stop being a little gremlin for two seconds?” He glares at the younger boy.

“Answer the question.”

“It wasn’t a question,” he snarks back.

Damian grinds his teeth and Danny smirks nastily. He wasn’t in the mood for sibling rivalry right now.

“Who are you?”

Danny’s expression twists.

“That isn’t funny.”

“I’m not laughing.”

A cold dread settles in his chest. What if it wasn’t a training exercise?

“You know who I am. Stop playing games.”

“You say you’re not Tim. Claim you’ve known Father for years.”

“Damian.”

Bruce steps out followed closely by Dick and Tim.

There is a cold sweat on his brow now. Danny’s heart is beating loudly in his ears. He can feel the panic in his chest.

He wasn’t like the others. He didn’t go out to fight crime. He just trained with them because they all knew he needed to know those things to live in their life.

He wasn’t prepared for something like this.

“Guys, you’re really freaking me out.”

“Answer the question.”

No one defends him from Damian’s demand. They all look at him with caution, like he was the enemy. A stranger.

“You know me. What are you guys talking about?”

When no one answers he’s close to a damn panic attack.

“It’s me. Danny. You know? Tim’s twin. I’ve lived here since me and Tim moved in when we were twelve. Please tell me this is just training. You guys didn’t- didn’t forget me or something, right?”

Something in Dick’s expression looks unsure, but they all are withdrawn and completely in their roles. They weren’t acting like family.

“Prove it,” Tim commands.

Danny can’t believe his ears.

“AN-4729,” he recites the emergency code to prove authenticity they all know.

He can tell they recognize it, but wait for more.

“The sun shines in the east,” is the next security code to show safety.

Danny can tell it’s still not enough.

“There’s a file of me on the computer. Tim has pictures of us since childhood hidden under the floorboard under his dresser. My room is to the left of Tim’s. Inside the closet, in the ceiling, is a box. Inside the box is a medallion. It holds my entire life. You could also call Mr. Fox. I work with him often. I’m his favorite. I’m even on the payroll. Or you could just Google Daniel Drake-Wayne. I’m sure I’d pop up. Or call Gotham Academy since I’m enrolled there and everyone has seen Alfred pick me up and drop me off. I have a Christmas stocking with my name on it. My picture is literally all over the manor. I know the ins and outs of all your equipment and tech. The password to the Bat computer is 35G4s@2b-“

“Okay,” Dick gently interrupts. “I think that’s enough for now.”

Danny can feel how wet his eyes are. He stiffens his upper lip as Alfred would say so he doesn’t show how much of a disappointment he is to fail this test. Because this has to be a test. It has to be.

“Tim, you and I could always tell when we’re lying. We call ourselves our own personal lie detectors. So… am I lying?”

Tim studies him hard. His twin looks into his eyes for longer than it should take.

“I don’t know.”

And Danny breaks.

#dp x dc #dc x dp #danny fenton #dp x dc crossover #batman #tim drake #damian wayne #bruce wayne #dick grayson #danny phantom #Danny in a different dimension #they have no memory of him #clockwork shenanigans #they do some investigating #and find out Danny’s not lying

1K notes · View notes

coachjenkins · 7 days ago

Text

Part 3 leg workout

#leg workout #gym exercises #leg muscle #pecs #biceps #toned legs #gym #fitness

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smutoperator · 4 months ago

Text

Leg Day

An Yujin, Jang Wonyoung x Male Reader

Tags: 69, A2M, anal, anal fingering, ass to pussy, ball sucking, cheating, crazy riding, creampie, doggy, facesitting, fucking and licking, gym, leg lifting, long legs, oral train, pussy eating, sloppy blowjobs, squats, squirting, threesome, thighjob, workout

Word count: 5581

You have just started your new job at the gym. Yet, your first task would be managing the training of some of its most VIP clients. As you entered the most private room of the installation, you found yourself alongside two tall girls with long legs.

"Hi," Yujin greeted you. You must be the new instructor," she said. Today is my friend and I's leg day. I hope you can get them very fit and toned," she continued. "Nice to meet you," Wonyoung was next. Let's start. Can you please bring some extra weight for me to push with my long legs?" she asked.

"Sure," you tell Wonyoung. Watching these two beautiful long-legged girls can be very distracting at times, but you keep your composure, it's the first day at your job and you need it. But as they exercise, they keep throwing some smiles and smirking at you.

"Let's cool down a bit," you say as you watch the girls push really hard and get really sweaty doing their leg pressing. "Cool down? I'm just warming up," Wonyoung answers you.

"Can you please bring my bottle to me?" Wonyoung asks you gently. It's very close to her you feel she could take it herself, but you decide not to upset her as she's a very VIP client of the gym.

"You're so handsome," Yujin tells you. "Thank you," you answer her as she blushes. Both girls continue doing their exercises. Wonyoung gets up from the leg presser and starts doing squats, Yujin laughing as she films her friend doing it.

"Girls, can you please stay focused?" you ask them as you suddenly ruin their fun, telling them what exercises they should actually do. "Come on, we pay a lot for this training, we should do whatever we want," Yujin tells you in a very bratty manner. "That's not how it works," you answer her.

Yujin and Wonyoung laugh. "No, baby, here we tell you how things work," Wonyoung says as both girls pull your pants down in one go, leaving the bottom of your body exposed. "Nice cock you got in there, would you mind if we suck it?" Yujin asks.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT, IS THIS SOME KIND OF PRANK?" you angrily scream at both girls, covering your intimate parts in a hurry? "We know this is your first day in this job," Wonyoung says. "So if you want to keep it, you should do what we tell you, including letting us use that big fat cock," Yujin continues.

"All right, but please, make sure my boss doesn't know about it," you tell them. "Well, we are your bosses now," Yujin answers as she locks the room's door and pumps up the music to the maximum. "Now, can you show the monster between your legs?" Wonyoung asks. "Sure," you answer her.

You uncover your hands from your cock, drawing awes from both Yujin and Wonyoung as she looked at your manhood. "Might be the best we've got in this room so far, and we've got some big ones before," Yujin says. Both girls quickly get on their knees and lick your shaft from the side, their sexy tongues running all over its length, them moving fast right from the get cock.

Wonyoung is the first of the two to take it on her throat, soon making loud noises as she sloppily chokes on your dick. "Such nice cock you have for us today," Yujin says, following her young groupmate and diving for your balls. Both girls then take turns switching their positions, each one taking some good time to enjoy your big cock.

Yujin helps you quickly get fully naked, while she pulls her tight shirt to the side and takes her pants off, showing you her perky tits up top and exposing her thicc thighs and toned ass at the bottom. "Look at this slut, already taking everything off," Wonyoung says as she follows her unnie's lead, but taking her top off instead, exposing her perky little tits and cute torso, leaving just her sneakers and shorts on as both girls keep sharing your cock.

"Lay down, let us handle that big fat cock," Yujin commands, pushing you in the direction of the floor as both girls surround you ready to suck more of that big fat pole. Yujin opens the works with a little spit on your shaft, Wonyoung already sticking her tongue out like a snake ready to bite her prey.

Yujin takes your cock in her mouth first, bobbing her head hard on it before she passes it to Wonyoung. The girls engage in a crazy competition to see who can suck your cock the fastest and the loudest, giving you very sloppy blowjobs. Wonyoung takes on your tip while Yujin runs her mouth all over your shaft. "Fuck yeah," is all you can say, holding yourself not to blow your load in their pretty faces.

"Let's spit all over this dick," Wonyoung commands as she lets Yujin now move her mouth fast all over it. "Oh yeah, put it deep in that throat," you tell Yujin, who quickly obliges, pushing your throbbing cock deeper and deeper into her mouth, Wonyoung watching and smiling as her friend gags all over your cock.

"That's right, just like that," Wonyoung says to Yujin as she finishes deepthroating your cock, so addicted she keeps your cock glued to her mouth even after it. "Keep going," Wonyoung tells her as she stretches Yujin's mouth. "Fit it all in," she says.

Wonyoung takes your cock next, going from the kill right from the start. "Take it all the way down," Yujin orders to her as Wonyoung gets sloppier and sloppier trying to deepthroat that long and thick meat. Like everything in her life, lucky Vicky easily succeeds, saliva running down her mouth as she then follows it taking on your balls and letting Yujin handle your shaft by herself.

"Take on those balls," you command to Wonyoung, who sucks them like crazy, before moving up and taking more turns on your shaft. "Such a naughty boy, cheating on your girlfriend on Valentine's Day," Wonyoung says, noticing the ring on your finger before diving back on your pole. "She's so fucking good sucking that cock," Yujin praises Wonyoung, who gets louder and louder sucking that shaft, making you glad they turned up the music and didn't let all that noise get out of the room.

"There you fucking go, such a hungry slut, leave some for me," Yujin says to Wonyoung as she tries to match her young friend's high intensity. You love those girls' attitudes, sensing the healthy competition building between them to see who's the best cocksucker, each one ramping up the intensity after the other girl finishes her turn.

"Choke on that cock, keep going," Wonyoung pushes Yujin to her limit as she spits all over your cock. "Oh that's so nice," you say as both girls take turns popping your cock in and out of their mouths and spit all over the tip. "So fucking yummy," Yujin says.

But Wonyoung just seems to be on a different rotation, deepthroating your cock again with ease. Lucky Vicky turns you into the luckiest guy in the world, as you're able to see her blossom into a full-fledged cockslut in front of your eyes, asking for more and more of that fat pole the more she takes it. "She is so good at it, isn't she?" Yujin asks as Wonyoung puts you on the edge, her deepthroat making your legs shake nonstop as you use all four forces not to pop in that beautiful sexy mouth of hers.

Yujin just moves to the side as she watches Wonyoung give you a mind-blowing blowjob. You thought your girlfriend was really good at sucking your cock, but now she's going to look tame compared to what Wonyoung does to it, submitting it fully to her control and not sparing a single inch from her fast-paced licking and sucking, showing she's a world-class talent in everything she does.

The next two minutes are by far the longest of your lives. Wonyoung just does everything she wants to your cock, spitting, sucking, throating, drooling all over it like crazy, turning your shaft into a throbbing mess full of her saliva.

Wonyoung finishes her turn with a crazy deepthroat as Yujin shoves her head against your cok. "Choke on that fucking cock," Yujin tells her, as Wonyoung decides to be unselfish, letting Yujin handle your cock as both of you get on your knees, sharing kisses as you taste her cock-filled mouth while Yujin bobs her head on your shaft on all fours. Suck that cock for us," Wonyoung tells her.

Wonyoung lines up behind Yujin, eating her friend's pussy while she chokes on your cock, forming a sexy oral train. Yujin moans as Wonyoung perfectly tongue her cunt, but it gets muffled as your big shaft stretches her mouth out.

"AHHHHH YEAH, YEAH. FUCK MY MOUTH AND EAT MY PUSSY, OH MY GOD," Yujin screams as she's pleased by both sides. You push your cock up her face as Wonyoung grabs her friend's hair. "That's right, fuck her mouth," she tells you, burying her face between Yujin's fat ass cheeks, shaking them left and right while her friend salivates all over your cock.

"Are you ready to see the gates of heaven?" Wonyoung asks you as she sits in one of the gym's equipment and pulls her shorts to the side, exposing her beautiful pink pussy. Yujin quickly kneels and starts eating it out. "You like what you see? Then get over here." Wonyoung commands as she pushes you in her direction.

"I know you want a taste of that pussy, everybody does," Wonyoung tells you, showcasing her self-confidence as you dive your head right into her pussy. "Is it better than your girlfriend's? Ahhhhhh" Wonyoung asks as she starts moaning.

Wonyoung can't hide how ecstatic she is, moving her hips and grinding on your face as you eat her pussy. "Does it taste good?" she asks you as you share kisses with Yujin, both their mouths now full of her pussy. "Looks like it tastes very good by the way you are kissing her," Wonyoung says as Yujin and you lick it together. "OH MY GOD," Wonyoung suddenly moans as you and Yujin start eating her pussy together. "So fucking sweet," Yujin says.

"Are you ready for that pussy to squeeze that big fat cock?" Wonyoung asks you as she strokes your cock, teasing it close to her entrance before she slowly drives it into her pussy. "Put that cock nice and slow, AHHHHH," she suddenly screams as your thick length gets inside her, closing her eyes as she slowly descends down it.

"Such a fucking big cock, OH MY GOD," Wonyoung tells you. But quickly, she shows why she's one of the best, bouncing on it with ease despite your massive length. "OH FUCK," she moans, squatting on your cock. "Fuck his big cock just like that," Yujin incentivizes her.

As soon as Yujin says those words, Wonyoung quickly flips a switch. You soon get introduced to her insane riding, her moving her hips in a very fast-paced manner and spinning on your cock as she moans loudly. "YEAH, YEAH, YEAH," she freely screams with her doll voice, knowing that no one will be able to hear it. "That's so fucking hot," Yujin says as Wonyoung picks up even more speed, riding you like an Amazon while Yujin spanks her cute ass.

"Use that fucking cock," Yujin commands to Wonyoung as she keeps performing powerful bounces on your cock, tilting her body forward to eat Yujin's pussy as her friend sits her fat ass in your face. "FUCK, YES, YES, YES, AHHHH," she loudly screams again, Yujin smiling as she enjoys her friend being a cockslut. "Bounce all over his cock, cum all over it," Yujin commands.

The room is quickly filled with tons of screaming and moaning. "I'm gonna rub this pussy all over your mouth, baby boy," Yujin says as she grinds on your face while Wonyoung keeps spinning hard on your cock, before following it with hard squats that make loud sounds as her butt hits your hips. "This is such good exercise, FUCK," she says, enjoying using your body as an absorber to her squatting.

"I'M GONNA CUM," Wonyoung announces as she squirts all over your cock, Yujin quickly comes in and takes it in her mouth as soon as Wonyoung pulls it out of her pussy. "Your fucking pussy tastes so good," Yujin says as she lets Wonyoung choke on your cock as well.

"Girls, come here," you tell Yujin and Wonyoung, who comes first and lies on top of the gym equipment, with Yujin then stacking on top of her. You spread Yujin's long legs and put your cock in her pussy, Wonyoung's pretty face all over your shaft and balls. "FUCK IT'S SUCH A BIG COCK, HOLY SHIT," Yujin says as she rolls her eyes.

"FUCK, THAT COCK STRETCHES ME OUT SO GOOD," Yujin says as you split her cunt in half, pounding her hard as your balls clap against her big ass and swing all over Wonyoung's face. "That's right, let him use that pussy," Wonyoung tells her.

"USE THAT FUCKING PUSSY, USE THAT TIGHT LITTLE FUCKHOLE, AHHHH, AHHHH" Yujin begs as Wonyoung tongues her clit and you grope her tits. Her tight pussy leads you to feed your cock to Wonyoung, letting her get it wetter for you to reach deeper in her cunt. "OHHHHH, AHHHHH, AHHHHH," Yujin screams as you give her big ass some nice spanks, Wonyoung now with her tongue fully out in her friend's cunt.

"Eat her pussy," you command to Yujin, who tilts her body down as she and Wonyoung 69 each other while you drill the older girl's meaty cunt. "FUCK," Yujin keeps screaming as you spank her ass nonstop, clinging to licking Wonyoung's pussy as you stretch her out. "OH, THAT FEELS SO GOOD IN MY PUSSY," Yujin moans as she fingers Wonyoung's wet pussy, raising up so Wonyoung can do the same.

"FUCK, YOU'RE SO DEEP, I CAN FEEL IT IN MY FUCKING STOMACH," Yujin tells you as Wounyoung reaches to lick her friend's belly as if she was licking your cock bulging under it. "KEEP GOING BABY, USE THAT FUCKING PUSSY, I LOVE THIS COCK SO MUCH," Yujin continues.

"Put it in my butt too," Yujin begs. "Ohhh, I'd love watching that big fat cock up my friend's ass," Wonyoung says. "AHHHHHHH," Yujin screams and rolls her eyes as you anally penetrate her. "OH SHIT, IT'S SO FUCKING GOOD IN MY BUTT," she tells you as your cock tries to dig deeper in her tight asshole, Wonyoung increasing the speed of her lickings as well.

"FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, AH, AH, AH, AH, YEAH, YEAH, YEAH" Yujin can't stop moaning as she gets anally drilled. "DON'T STOP BABY, YES, FUCK THAT ASS HARD," she begs, Wonyoung smiling under her, especially when you give her your cock to taste her best friend's dirty butthole. Yujin presses her tits against Wonyoung's tall body while she eats her friend's pussy, trying to cope with your long and fat cock stretching her tiny anus. "AHHHHH, IT'S SO FUCKING AMAZING, FUCK," she screams.

"Cum, cum, cum for me all over that cock," Wonyoung tells Yujin. "FUCK, FUCK, I'M CUMMING," Yujin says as her long legs shake and she bursts all over Wonyoung's face. "Fuck yeah, so tasty," Wonyoung says, using her mouth to suck all the juices from it. "Your turn Yujinie, take all that cock, take it all in your fucking throat," Wonyoung tells her as Yujin gets on her knees, her younger friend quickly grabbing her head and shoving it against your shaft.

"That's right, fucking take it," Wonyoung says. "He loves that so much," Yujin says as she gags on your cock. " What a lucky day. That's so fucking unreal, having both of you suck my cock like that," you say to the girls as they move to the side of your shaft and lick it together. "Get up," you tell Wonyoung, sharing kisses with her while Yujin stays on her knees sucking that cock. "Oh yeah, so good, I love watching it," you tell her.

"Now it's your turn to get up," you tell Yujin as you start sucking her perky tits, leaving Wonyoung alone to bob her head on your throbbing shaft. "Your thighs are so fucking sexy," you tell Yujin while you touch her ass and play with her boobs.

"Come here, let me do something," you instruct Yujin, sliding your big fat cock between her honey thighs. Wonyoung immediately dives her face at Yujin's bottom as your cock starts humping and rubbing against her friend's legs. Wonyoung quickly understands her assignment, not letting your tip breathe, sucking it as it pops out of Yujin's thicc lower body.

You pick up the speed, humping your cock hard against Yujin's thicc thighs. "Perfect, just like that," you tell her, hugging Yujin's body hard up top while Wonyoung hugs your cock hard with her mouth at the bottom.

"Suck that cock," you tell Wonyoung as you spread Yujin's cheeks, giving her friend a larger chunk of your shaft to take in her mouth. "Oh fuck, what a good cockslut," you say as you fuck Wonyoung's face and Yujin's thighs at the same time, pumping harder than ever as both girls moan sexily.

"Get on all fours on the floor," you tell both Yujin and Wonyoung as they grab a pair of gym mats for themselves. "FUCKKKKK," Wonyoung quickly gets shocked as you unseriously shove your cock up her ass. "Fuck, that shit is so tight," you tell her, struggling to fit your thick cock in her little butthole.

But you won't give up so easily, taking your time on Wonyoung's pussy while you stretch her little asshole out with your thumb. "Yes, baby, shove it in my ass," she tells you. Yujin bounces her butt in anticipation and thumbs her own asshole as you drill Wonyoung's pussy.

You switch to Yujin's pussy next, Wonyoung giving you a helping hand as she now fingers her friend's butthole. "That feels so good," Yujin says enjoying the massage your cock and Wonyoung's fingers provide her. You kiss Wonyoung and choke her neck as you switch to Yujin's asshole. "Spread it open," you tell Wonyoung.

"OH FUCK, THAT'S SO FUCKING AMAZING," Yujin screams as you pound her ass. "Just thrust like your life depends on it," Wonyoung says, smiling as she watches her friend get her asshole stretched out. "FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, LIKE THAT, LIKE THAT," Yujin begs, you switching from her ass to her pussy nonstop, letting Wonyoung taste your cock once you're done. "My friend tastes so dirty, that's the flavor of a nasty slut," Wonyoung says.

You turn your attention back to Wonyoung as you stretch her pussy out, making her sexily moan. "Good girl," you tell her, giving a spank to Wony's ass and then switching back to her butt. "AHHHHHH," she screams again, shocked by your size, but as soon as she adjusts, takes it like a champion. "GOD THAT'S SUCH A BIG FUCKING COCK," she tells you.

"Then let me push it deeper," you tell Wonyoung as her asshole winks begging for it. You finally manage to break the resistance, taking it all the way up her ass. "YES, FUCK, FUCK," Wonyoung screams. "I still remember when you weren't that into anal," Yujin says. "Now you taking 10-inch monsters up that ass, no wonder you've been doing so many glute workouts lately," she continues.

"OH FUCK, FUCK, FUCK," Wonyoung keeps moaning hard as you choke her and print the shape of your cock in her now stretched butthole. You switch back and forth between her and Yujin, drilling their asses as hard as you can. "OH YES, OH YES, FUCK THAT BUTT," Yujin moans. Wonyoung grabs your cock, adding the right amount of saliva for you to fuck her best friend. "PUSH IT HARDER IN MY ASS, FUCK YEAH," Yujin begs.

You switch back to Yujin's pussy a bit, but she's so overwhelmed she soon squirts. "FUCKKKKK," Yujin screams as her juices flow into the gym mat. You grab Wonyoung's princess head, shoving your cock unceremoniously in her mouth and stuffing her face hard. "Taste those fucking juices, bitch," you tell her, Wonyoung rolling her eyes as you turn her mouth into your cocksleeve.

"I love watching you fuck her ass," Wonyoung tells you. "How about I fuck that pussy a little more?" you ask her, putting Wonyoung back on all fours and pounding her cunt from behind, Yujin coming in to massage her friend's butthole. "OH FUCKKKK," Wonyoung moans, Yujin ready to taste her pussy at all moments and providing you the right amount of spit for you to drill it. "HMMMM, HMMMM, HMMM," Wonyoung moans, Yujin now with her filthy hands all over her clit as well.

Yujin grabs your cock and pushes in Wonyoung's ass direction again, spreading her best friend's cheeks. "Look at her, taking this workout like a champion," Yujin says as you stretch Wonyoung's butthole hard while Yujin takes care of her pussy. "AHHHH, FUCK, FUCK," Wonyoung screams.

"Let's do some squats, work those glutes," Wonyoung says as she drops you to the floor and starts spinning her ass on your cock. "Fucking wear this ass out," she begs, rotating all over your cock. Yujin sits on your face as Wonyoung starts bouncing her ass on your cock. "YEAHHHHH," Wonyoung screams, Wonyoung watching her best friend turning into an anal whore. "That's so hot, working that fucking cock," Yujin commands.

Wonyoung grinds her ass on your cock while Yujin suffocates you with her pussy. "I LOVE THAT GIANT COCK IN MY BUTT," the younger girl says, using you as her personal workout machine, moving her hips fast and doing straight squats on your cock while Yujin squirts on your face and you grope her tits. "OH YEAH, FUCK," Wonyoung moans as she bounces on your cock.

You couldn't feel much better now as you savor Yujin's pussy. Wonyoung is so excited she almost falls down riding your cock, switching into an anal reverse cowgirl position and filling the room with loud moans. "AHHHH, AHHHH, AHHHH, AHHHH," she keeps repeating. Yujin tries to match Wonyoung's ride, doing squats in your face with her pussy. Your legs tremble, Wonyoung's tight asshole working your cock out at a really fast pace as she enjoys her anal workout, holding into one of the supports in the room.

You keep yourself entertained with Yujin's tits and pussy as Wonyoung keeps using your cock like a piece of workout equipment, moving her ass up and down it faster than ever. "Let me squat on it too," Yujin asks as the girl switch positions, Yujin taking your cock in her pussy and spreading her legs while you eat Wonyoung's heavenly cunt, the two girls sharing sexy stares with each other, Wonyoung laughing as you finger her clit and tongue her pussy.

Yujin picks up the speed, moving on your cock sideways and spinning on it while you put Wonyoung on the verge of cumming, her legs shaking with the clit massage you give her. "FUCK," both girls scream together, Yujin making good work of your pole while you make good work of Wony's little clit. "DON'T STOP, YOUR TONGUE AND CLIT FEEL SO FUCKING GOOD, I'M GONNA CUM," Wonyoung says as she squirts all over your face.

Yujin bends over and starts sucking your cock, Wonyoung getting behind her and eating her best friend's ass as she bobs her head on your cock and tests her body stretching capabilities. You push Yujin's head against your shaft and pump your cock up her mouth, making it as hard as possible for her not to gag on it as she tries to resist the pressure you put in her mouth. "Yes, baby, gag on that cock," you tell her, Wonyoung coming right beside her to suck your balls.

But Yujin manages to resist, taking control and bouncing her face on your cock with ease. "Put it back in my pussy," she says, getting on all fours again on the gym mat.

"PLEASE, I WANT TO FEEL IT IN MY STOMACH, AHHHH" Yujin pleads as you stick your cock back in her cunt, enjoying the bulge it creates under her belly. Wonyoung adds some spit. "I fucking love it," Yujin says. "Show me how good you take it," Wonyoung says. "I want to take this cock deep in my pussy like a good fucking whore," Yujin says as she moans. "That's right," Wonyoung compliments her.

You and Wonyoung share kisses as you turn Yujin into a cocksleeve. "FUCK," the puppy girl screams as Wonyoung spanks her ass. "FUCK ME, FUCK ME, FUCK ME," Yujin keeps begging as her pussy gets more and more stretched out. "I WANT MORE, I WANT MORE," Yujin begs. "Such a good girl taking that big fat cock," Wonyoung tells her.

"It's so deep, isn't it, tell me how deep it is inside you?" Wonyoung asks Yujin. "ALL THE WAY IN MY FUCKING STOMACH," she answers. "Does that little pussy feel good gripping on that cock?" Wonyoung asks you. "Ahhhh, ahhhhh, oh my god," Yujin moans as Wonyoung spreads her ass, before moving in her direction to kiss her. "So good," Yujin says. "Such a good cocksleeve," Wonyoung tells her.

"YES POUND ME, BABY, POUND ME, DROP THAT FUCKING COCK IN ME" Yujin begs as she rests her head on Wonyoung's tits. "AHHHH, YEAH, YEAH, WRECK MY FUCKING PUSSY," she begs as she sucks Wony's boobs. "Look how much she likes that cock," Wonyoung says to you. "I'M GONNA CUM," Yujin says, rubbing Wonyoung's pussy and moving her hips hard against your cock. "You feel that pussy cumming? Creaming all over your fucking cock? That's right" Wonyoung says as Yujin squirts on your dick.

Yujin quickly shoves you back on the floor, then bends over and deepthroating your cock. Wonyoung lines behind her, grinding her pussy against her friend's fukholes while Yujin chokes on your dick. "OH YEAH RUB MY PUSSY," Yujin begs as she spits all over your cock before she starts squatting on it with her fat ass. Wonyoung stays behind her, gripping her mouth all over your balls as Yujin's big butt hits her pretty face at each squat.

"OH THAT COCK IS AMAZING DEEP IN MY ASS," Yujin screams as she bounces all over it. "OH FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK," she keeps moaning, you reaching her hands to grope her bouncy boobs, Wonyoung remains glued to your balls, Yujin humping her ass all over that cock, before doing some more acrobatic sucking and running towards one of the room's pieces of equipment and clinging herself onto it.

"Bounce that ass on that cock, come on, be a good girl," Wonyoung tells Yujin as she pushes her friend's body down your cock. "YEAH, YEAH," Yujin screams. Wonyoung "Look how well she knows how to work on that cock," Wonyoung says as she keeps pushing Yujin to squat harder on it, making loud noises as her fat cheeks clap against your hips. "Yes, perfect, grind on that cock, keep taking it" WOnyoung keeps incentivizing Yujin with a big smile on her face.

"Come fuck me here," Yujin commands. You quickly follow, lifting one of her long, thicc legs and putting your cock back in her pussy. Wonyoung slides under both your bodies, reaching to eat her friend's pussy. "Oh, that's so good, ahhhh, fuck," Yujin moans as your cock stretches her cunt and Wonyoung tongues it. Wonyoung then moves and grabs Yujin's tits, sucking them as you rail her cunt, Yujin trying to stay up in just one leg. "FUCK, YES, YES, YES, I WANT MORE, I WANT MORE" she screams.

"Put it back in my ass," Yujin commands and you quickly oblige, stretching her asshole out as Wonyoung keeps playing with her bouncy boobs and kissing her friend. "Fuck her harder, make those tits bounce, use her ass" Wonyoung instructs you as you give Yujin the perfect anal workout, stretching her legs up in the air. "YEAH, LIKE THAT, LIKE THAT, IT'S SO FUCKING DEEP IN ME" Yujin screams.

You put Yujin back on the ground, fucking her ass from behind as Wonyoung helps spank her friend's but. "FUCK, THAT'S SO FUCKING PERFECT, YESSS," Yujin screams as she starts running out of steam, you eventually pulling out of her ass. Wonyoung is there immediately to impale her face in your big rod, tasting her friend's dirty and sweaty asshole straight from it, jerking your cock off hard, and savoring it to perfection.

"It's my turn now, I want that cock to myself, give it to me," Wonyoung says as she takes Yujin's place, spreading her right leg wide as you get ready to put your cock in her ass. "That's right, spit all over that fucking cock," she tells Yujin as she wets your cock before it goes up Wony's butt. "OH FUCK, THAT'S BIG," she says, always surprised with your size no matter how many times it goes in her ass.

"I want you to rub that ass on my face while he fucks me," Wonyoung commands to Yujin, who promptly obliges, grinding her butt all over Wonyoung's pretty face as your hard thrusts push it against Yujin's ass. "FUCK, FUCK, FUCK," Wonyoung screams as she clings to Yujin's ass. "That's right, that's right, stretch that fucking ass," she begs, reaching to finger Yujin's clit and thumb her asshole.

But Wonyoung is no pushover, as she starts moving her hips to meet your cock thrusting up her ass. "SO FUCKING DEEP, I LOVE IT," she says. You slow down as Yujin moves into Wonyoung's pussy and licks it now. "OHHHHH, FUCK THAT FEELS GOOD" Wonyoung moans as her best friend intensely tongues her folds.

"GIVE ME ALL, GIVE ME ALL," Wonyoung begs as you pound her asshole into oblivion, Yujin staying glued to her pussy. "YEAH, YEAH, YEAH," she moans louder than ever, both of you teaming up on her for maximum pleasure, "YES, STRETCH ME OPEN, STRETCH ME OPEN, FUCKKKK, AHHHH, AHHHH, AHHHHH, AHHHHH," Wonyoung turns into a screaming mess, using all her strength to cope with your hard thrusts up her backdoor.

"Put it in my pussy and don't pull out until you fill that up, you understand?" Wonyoung asks you as you switch between her holes. Yujin fingers Wonyoung's little clit, making her squeeze your cock even harder as she prepares to make you cum at any instant.

"Fucking use me, use me, OH FUCK, AHHHH, JUST LIKE THAT, DON'T FUCKING STOP, MAKE MY PUSSY CUM" Wonyoung begs. "Drill that slutty pussy," Yujin orders as you have your sights fully fixated on filling Wonyoung at any second.

"Fuck her hard, fuck her hard," Yujin commands as you attack Wonyoung's pissy. "FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, TAKE THAT COCK DEEP INSIDE ME" Wonyoung screams louder than ever as you clap her cheeks hard. "That's so fucking hot," Yujin says, tapping her friend's ass.

"Fill me up, fill me up with your cum, I want you to cum for me" Wonyoung begs. Yujin tongues your shaft hard as you drill Wonyoung's tight cunt, not sparing a single inch of it. "I'M CUMMING, I'M CUMMING, FUCK," Wonyoung screams as her walls clench hard over your cock, her smiling sensing you're getting closer.

You grab Wonyoung's body and pound her harder than ever. "Please, baby, fill that pussy with your cum," she continues to beg, you giving her faster and faster thrusts, her legs fully spread over the equipment, shaking harder than ever. You accidentally put your cock in her ass after it pushes out of her pussy, before switching it back. "Cum inside me, cum inside me, please, please, please, YES, YES, YES" Wonyoung continues to beg.

"AHHHH, AHHHH, AHHHH," you start groaning as you pump your seeds deep inside Wonyoung's pink pussy. You just couldn't believe it, but you were filling Korea's it girl to the brim. As your cock pops out of it, Yujin is right there to lick her friend's dripping cunt, tasting your cum from it. "It tastes like cherry," Yujin says as the flavor of your cum and of Wonyoung's pussy mix with each other.

You look and admire Yujin eating Wonyoung's pussy out as both girls kiss each other and swap your cum. "Oh my God, this was the best day of my life," you tell them. "I don't think your girlfriend can do that," Wonyoung says as you three lie on the floor and talk to each other.

Yujin and Wonyoung smile as they do a few squats while naked, laughing and giggling a lot. "Are we doing it right, baby?" Yujin asks you. "Definitely," you answer them.

You three get your clothes back on as you go back to your regular work and Yujin and Wonyoung leave the VIP room. "We won't be at the gym again this week, lots of performances coming up, do you want to watch one of our music show performances this week?" Wonyoung asks.

"Sure," you answer her.

"Good, I can't wait for us to have sex backstage," Yujin says as both girls leave the room.

A bonus fic for ya. I could no longer resist writing an Annyeongz smut and their fit legs as of lately gave me the perfect excuse.

#yujin smut #wonyoung smut #ive smut #izone smut #female idol smut #girl group smut #kpop smut #male reader smut #annyeongz smut

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writerpeach · 7 months ago

Text

Extracurricular Activititties

aespa Karina x m!reader

16k words

Part Two of Fantastic Breasts and Where to Find Them

“Nothing like a little fresh air to start the day off, right, sweetie?”

You can’t say you agree.

But Karina has a certain way of convincing you to go for an early morning jog when she shows up in the kitchen—wearing a pair of tight leggings that leave absolutely nothing to the imagination, along with a skimpy tank top, gray and low-cut, no bra underneath, that insane chest the center of attention.

The exact word she uses is jog, but it’s a brisk walk at best, given you're far too out of shape for anything more. You're not even sure that exercise is the goal here—when every step she takes is a chance for her breasts to jiggle underneath this skimpy, poor excuse for athletic attire and claim your attention.

Not to mention it's cold—not quite freezing, but not the ideal jogging weather, and you swear she's doing this just to rile you all up. Especially when her nipples are practically poking straight through the thin fabric which has you straining to keep your eyes from wandering too much.

There aren’t many bodies out this early when the weather gets like this, but that doesn't mean Karina isn't the center of attention even from a distance. Her face alone gets people staring, and you know firsthand how difficult it is to keep your eyes from drifting down to those ridiculous tits and that useless stretched-out piece of fabric that hardly conceals her bouncing chest.

The entire walk feels borderline torturous when all you can think about is what's waiting underneath those clothes, so you look away at anything you can find—leaves falling from a tree, a bird flying, the license plate of a parked car you try to memorize.

Nothing seems to help.

"You're staring, sweetie."

"Me? No clue what you're talking about," you lie, avoiding her alluring eyes altogether when she glances back with a knowing little smirk.

"Yeah, you are. My ass, maybe? Enjoying the view?” Karina asks, as if she isn't fully aware of all the attention she's gotten with her top hanging loose, nipples nearly exposed, looking like sin itself.

"It's hard to not notice how pretty you are, Karina," you reply. She giggles and bumps her hip into you, nearly sending you flying.

"Am I distracting you, sweetheart?" she asks with this faux innocent tone, because the smile she wears can't mask her intent—

"Something like that," you mumble in response.

"Well, someone’s not subtle. It's almost too cute, seeing how hard you try to not stare at my tits."

"Can you really blame me? They're practically spilling out."

"Oh, are they? Haven’t even noticed,” she says, cupping them through the loose top, as if wanting to push her nipples through the fabric to further tantalize. "Or maybe that's the point—to see how flustered you'd get, trying to keep your eyes away. Guess I didn't overestimate your weakness."

"You're insane. It's freezing out here."

"Me, insane? Maybe—for your dick."

You're more than a little embarrassed to hear such blunt words coming from Karina's sweet lips in the open, as if there’s no chance that others can't hear everything as they walk past.

But Karina just laughs, so carefree, not having any concerns as she turns around and jogs backwards, forcing you to look directly at those bouncing tits and the hypnotizing bounce they create with every step. "I'm just trying to get the blood flowing. You think I actually wanted to go out for a run? I don't even own a sports bra, sweetie. I get more than enough exercise from you railing me every day."

The embarrassment worsens to hear her talk like this, but the blush creeping on your face goes unnoticed as you both head back home. It takes a short time before you're pushing the front door wide open, walking inside from a brisk, chilly breeze to the comfortable warmth of the shared apartment.

And suddenly your back is flat up against the door before you have the chance to kick your shoes off. "What are you—"

"Hush." One word is all Karina has to tell you, silencing any incoming words from your lips as she pins you against the wooden surface, grabbing an unexpected handful of your cock right through your sweatpants. "Seems like it worked after all—seeing how hard you've gotten just by looking at my chest. Feels like you're fucking throbbing, sweetheart.”

"Fucking hell—" The groan slips out when Karina squeezes your cock through the fabric, leaving you helpless to her will as she presses forward, pinning you further. You don’t say another word while her lips claim your neck, her tongue swiping across the sensitive skin.

"What are you gonna do with this big cock, I wonder? Hard as a fucking rock, and we haven't even done a thing."

"What else do you think? You're gonna let me fuck those big tits of yours."

Karina beams with satisfaction and slips a hand inside your pants, getting a better grip to fully feel the arousal of your length that aches in her fingers. "Good choice."

Those pretty lips find a place against your own and press deep, holding you there to trap you, one hand stroking your length, giving soft, constant pumps to make sure you're every bit as hard as can be. Karina isn't planning on teasing, not when she can get you nice and ready while the taste of her lips lingers. "Getting so worked up, aren't you, sweetheart? You’re so sensitive—so fucking hard."

"All thanks to your help." You get a cute laugh out of her from that as she drags you towards the living room, eager to speed things along. Your head is spinning, cock aching for more while she stops in the middle of the room with a smile across her angelic face.

"Be a good boy and sit."

Following her orders, you kick your shoes off and throw them aside, taking a seat on the couch. "I'm not a dog, Rina."

"Never said you were," she replies, peeling her tank top off over her head, until those huge, heavy tits bounce free that you know so well. Nothing could steal your gaze away from this perfection, the way her chest jiggles from the slightest movement, mesmerizing to look at. "You're more like a cute, needy little puppy."

You'd be annoyed at her little remark, if not for the stunning view as she takes a seat on your lap, topless, straddling you. And once you have those massive breasts right in front of your face, inches away, all the irritation is easily ignored.

All else is forgotten, your hands moving automatically to reach up and cup them. They're soft, with a satisfying weight that makes her give a little chuckle when you fondle them. "You always act like it's the first time you're seeing them."

"Feels that way," you answer, squeezing a good, generous handful, enjoying the warmth, the heaviness pressing against your palm. It's fucking heaven, and then some, the sensation of your fingers sinking into that heavenly flesh, those stiffening nipples begging for attention. “Your tits are so amazing, Rina. So goddamn big—so perfect.”

The praise does something to her. You can see it in her flushed cheeks and a hint of a shy grin forming. A rare sight, coming from Karina, who always acts so damn confident all the time.

She watches you closely, enjoying the attention you lavish her bare breasts with, how you squeeze them together, massage them and just play with her chest as you like.

"It's really that easy to shut you up, isn't it?" Karina can barely finish before those words dissolve into nothing but a small gasp once your fingers pinch and tug her sensitive nipples, watching in pleasure how stiff they get. And there's no denying the addiction you've picked up, this utter obsession to bury your cock deep between those beautiful milky tits until you can't handle anymore, shooting such massive streaks of thick cum that look so good all over her.

Her mouth falls wide open at your not-so-gentle touch, every sharp tug of stiff buds eliciting a moan. Just the sight of her drives you wild—her supple breasts look fucking delicious, nipples so sensitive and responsive, and you don’t think you’ll ever get enough of them as the weight rests in your palms.

"Come on, don't stop there." Karina pleads in your ear, encouraging you to keep it going, these violent squeezes she's all too receptive to on the daily. "You look so hungry for these fucking tits. Go ahead, suck on them, sweetie. I know you're dying to."

Leaning back, Karina lets you have what's rightfully yours, with a proud expression etched on her face while you have your way. The angle is perfect for a messy trail of kisses that move across her pale, creamy flesh, tracing a blue vein along the way, tasting the beads of sweat forming on her delicious chest.

It's the start of something even better—a greedy path that travels all across until your mouth finally finds its proper place, sealing right onto one of those stiff nipples, giving a lewd slurp that makes Karina react with a pleasant gasp.

"Mm, fuck—such a good boy," she coos in your ear while you devour her chest, teasing the perfect buds that get so excited in response to all this attention. Her hand rests on the back of your head, stroking your hair gently as your mouth remains locked on a breast. Karina just watches you work, attentively studying the way your teeth nibble, how hungrily you suckle, how utterly depraved you must look.

"God, Karina, your tits, these perfect fucking tits—"

The words slip out almost against your own volition before you latch onto her other nipple and give the same treatment, equally desperate, suckling until saliva drips down the corner of your mouth, her encouraging whimpers everything that fuels your arousal.

“There you go, suck on those tits, they’re all yours,” Karina says, voice a bit shaky while your ravenous mouth gives a gentle nibble around the hardened nub between your lips. "Make sure you take care of them both, sweetheart.”

And honestly, how could you not—

Letting them both slide between your lips, such lewd noises come out of your mouth when switching between them, an absolute feast that has no end. Nothing could stop you from doing this for hours, forever even, this delicious fucking pair the best meal you’ve ever had, with these pretty nipples doused in spit, all slippery. But there’s only one thing better than your mouth all over—and Karina knows exactly what.

"You about ready to get that cock between them?" she asks while you suck and slurp so frantically, but you’re unable to answer with your mouth so full of her heavy tits, devouring them like you’re starved. And once you do finally let them drop, she uses the weight to smother you, a moment you're happy to lose yourself in, pinned there with your face buried in her cleavage.

This is as good as it gets, you think, when all you can see is pale flesh covering your vision, just silently pleading for Karina to suffocate you with those plentiful breasts. It’s a moment that lasts far less than you’d like, only to see that expression on her face as she regretfully lets you come up for air.

"Do you even have to ask? Rina, please—I need to fuck these tits so bad. I’ve never been more ready.”

The answer leaves her so smug when she slips herself out of your lap, the rest of your clothes tugged away in a flash. Karina is already down on her knees without a single thought, chest level at the perfect height when she sits back on her heels. That sultry look on her face is to die for, big tits jutting out, full and swollen, mouth-watering as can be.

"Do you want me to blow you first? Or do you want these tits instead?"

"Karina, baby—" you groan at how she toys with you, squeezing the sensitive head with a devious smirk written all over her sinful features. "Your tits. Your beautiful tits, that's all I fucking want."

She giggles at that and runs the swollen head of your cock all over her breasts, slapping it against the jiggly flesh, before ending with a light little graze over a hardened nipple while you get more and more restless. But Karina lets your desperation sink in, staying patient herself as those pretty eyes gaze at your reaction, drinking in the look on your face—

"Hand me the bottle in the side table. The one with strawberries on it," she requests. You’re a bit confused at first, but go ahead and reach out across the cushions to open the drawer, digging out what she asks for—something you didn’t even know existed.

It's this small bottle of clear liquid with tiny red strawberry shapes all over the label, and it doesn't take a genius to understand what this is for.

Karina flips open the cap, leaning in, a mischievous smile tugging at the corner of her lips. Without a word, she tilts the bottle, pouring the oil all over her chest in agonizingly slow drizzles, filling the room up with the scent of strawberries. It's nothing but erotic; a daze falling over you while she shifts to get comfortable—on her knees, back straight, making sure those huge breasts look as enticing as possible while she watches in amusement.

Once that abundant chest has gotten the attention and coverage needed, she pours out more into her palms, her delicate hands all slippery when she strokes your aching shaft.

"Yizhuo bought this one for me, I think, for my last birthday. Told me it would smell nice. But she has no idea what I've been saving it for..."

"Lucky me.”

“Lucky, lucky you,” Karina repeats, emphasizing it by shaking her chest, the delicious jiggle so hypnotic, and the sheen created by the strawberry-scented liquid sets your desires ablaze. It has your cock hardening impossibly so, and you can only imagine how this will feel, given how soft they are to begin with, now all slick and slippery.

One more drizzle for good measure, right down the valley between her heavy breasts, and the anticipation alone is killing you. “There we go. Now let's have some fun.”

Before you have the chance to reply, Karina takes your cock, stiff as could be, trapping it between her slippery breasts, nestled right within her cleavage. A sharp groan is all it takes to register the amazing feeling—sinking right into the pillowy softness.

And Karina indulges, sliding the weight of those oily tits along your shaft, giving all this delicious friction you've been yearning for.

“Shit—feels so good,” you groan as those heavy tits work their way down your shaft. They swallow every last inch, disappearing entirely through that slippery cleavage, this relentless slide up and down that has you reeling.

“Good, because they look perfect around your huge cock."

Karina says little more, her large breasts doing the talking as she squeezes them tighter, the slickness making all the friction between them even easier for your cock to glide through. You're left fucking breathless at how her tits completely engulf, and how your shaft disappears, all covered in massage oil, glistening every time it reappears.

The deepening pressure does wonders for your aching cock, and the stimulation is unreal—Karina’s full lips form into a pretty smile while she grinds her chest, finding the utmost satisfaction in seeing you lose it.

"Sweetie," Karina purrs, looking so pleased. Your breaths are shallow, and she pays no mind, focused fully on squeezing your dick so firmly between those soft, bouncy breasts. "Tell me. Tell me how this feels."

"So fucking good, Rina—never felt anything like it. Your huge fucking tits are driving me crazy." You lean back, cock sandwiched between her full chest, and just let out these desperate groans as you drown in lust.

All without having to do a thing but sit and enjoy the view of your favorite place to be.

Karina revels in how crazy she drives you, and there's little point in hiding it—your face says it all. You can hardly get anything out that isn’t a loud grunt or groan.

"How long can you last, sweetie? You’re throbbing like crazy,” she teases, and it’s less a question, more of a challenge—either way, you have no chance here, fighting the pleasure rising, boiling inside. And Karina knows, she can see the weakness all over, a smugness present when she pushes those mounds tighter together, not daring to let your leaking shaft escape.

"Fuck," you curse, bucking your hips almost involuntarily, losing yourself in the warmth of her breasts, overwhelmed with how slick and fucking heavenly it all is.

“Wanna help a girl out?” Karina offers, knowing your limits are growing shorter by the second. Your answer is simple, and you grab her shoulders without a second thought, thrusting upwards, fucking those gorgeous tits with everything you have. The sight is almost too much—seeing your shaft plunge into the slippery depths of her chest, disappearing again and again, enveloped in all this pale, creamy flesh.

"Must feel so fucking good. You've been wanting to fuck these tits so badly that you can't even speak, poor thing," Karina tells you, her eyes watching intently while you thrust wildly with all this vigor. The urge grows as you chase your climax, cock begging to burst as you drive right between the huge mounds, a frantic rhythm only hastening while that lust dominates.

"Keep it up. Just like this, sweetie, keep that big cock right between these perfect tits," she purrs, and no longer is Karina doing most of the work—strawberry oil-covered breasts on either side and your throbbing cock in between.

You won't last another minute at this rate.

Karina loves how desperate you get, the utter control she has while you give into your carnal desires, unable to do a single thing other than bury your hard cock as deeply into that beautiful cleavage as possible, not a thought on your mind beyond emptying your balls.

"I hope this feels as good as it looks, sweetheart," her honeyed voice adds, just heightening the desperation. You can hardly even think straight, an aching urge like no other, and you can already picture how good Karina is going to look covered in your hot cum.

Just a few more pumps are all you have left, and Karina moves her slick breasts along your cock to speed things up. Not that you need any additional help in reaching that goal, because the next stroke might be your last.

"Shit, Rina—these fucking tits," you stutter out, breath strained, balls tight as you brace for release.

"Too much to handle? Let it all out, baby, blow that load all over these big tits.”

There's no stopping what's about to happen—the constant throbs of your cock pumping away in between these glistening breasts tells you there's no hope, and the grip you hold on Karina tightens, pulling her forward to trap your stiff shaft even further.

“Gonna fucking cover you—"

All this pressure building, threatening to erupt at a moment's notice, and there's only a single word from her mouth, prompting that inevitable release.

“Sweetie.“

One last squeeze does the trick—with a single pump of your cock between her tits, you cum. Harder than ever before, the thickness shooting so forcefully, spilling all over and painting a canvas of creamy streaks from between Karina's slick, heavy mounds.

Her expression softens at the sticky mess spilling everywhere. It's one powerful burst after the next, but Karina milks as much as she can, applying a firmer grip, her fingers massaging gently, urging more of those messy spurts from your sensitive tip.

Every last drop is rightfully hers—that pale skin gets splattered and glazed, creamy white streaks filling up her cleavage. A streak hits her chin, while most of it lands on her chest, just as intended, leaving behind a huge mess you've been desperate to give.

And Karina looks so satisfied, admiring the scene she helped create—all that milky seed, thick streaks clinging to her breasts and the rest just dripping lazily while your sensitive shaft still twitches. She holds you there in her grip for as long as she can, just for those lingering spasms, never taking her eyes off even as you start to falter.

"Good boy," she finally coos while you give a couple more lazy pumps, smearing what remains onto her heaving breasts.

Despite your exhaustion, Karina's enthusiasm to display herself with the results of your climax smeared all over her enormous chest doesn't fade. She’s far from shy, lifting those messy, covered breasts and showing every detail, every streak of hot white.

"Guess we should thank Yizhuo for such a thoughtful gift, wouldn't you say, sweetie?"

You can hardly muster a nod, slumping back against the pillows of the couch and panting hard as you try to stay conscious—her huge, perfect tits drenched in your load the only thing keeping you upright.

"Hey, don't pass out on me now," she warns, giving your sensitive dick a few strokes, letting the feeling snap you awake, the overstimulation too much to bear. "We're not done yet, are we?"

Your answer doesn't come quick enough—she laughs a bit while giving another few lazy strokes to your spent cock. "Jesus, Rina. You make me cum that hard and expect me to go again?"

"Mhmm," she giggles, shimmying down her skintight leggings until they fall down around her ankles, leaving nothing else but thin, pink-lace panties that get tugged down and kicked off in record time. Your balls can’t be completely empty already. Since when has one round ever been enough?"

You can’t exactly argue that, not when there's nothing left to stand in the way as your eyes feast upon Karina's bare cunt, her legs parting, exposing everything and just spreading the slightest bit so you can have this delicious sight of her body in its full glory.

"I'll give you a few minutes. Or are you telling me you don't wanna get balls deep in me? If so, I'll just take care of myself, I guess."

That's an empty threat if you've ever heard one, but still, nothing brings out the hunger faster than a comment like that. "Don't you fucking dare. Give me five minutes—we'll see who can't go again."

"Sure thing, sweetheart. Just come and bend me over once you're ready," she says with this innocent tone that is anything but. "I’ll be waiting."

Karina gives a quick kiss to your cheek, leaving a pile of discarded clothes in a heap as she saunters out of the room, her ridiculous wide hips swaying, naked as can be.

"Five minutes!"

Your head still spins, but you take a deep breath and head towards the kitchen. Quickly opening the fridge to grab a bottle of water, you chug it all as fast as you can. Because in five minutes, you better be ready.

It’s nowhere near long enough to calm all that heat burning inside you, but it’ll have to do.

Little by little, you start to regain your senses when those five minutes are nearly up, and you're not even sure if it's enough—no, you're certain it's not, but you head to the bedroom regardless, determined to prove her wrong.

When you step through the open doorway, all you can see is Karina and her nude perfection sprawled out on the sheets in the most provocative manner that she can manage, her flawless skin now devoid of your orgasm or any other messy fluids. She's not idle, that's for sure, a hand occupied between her legs, and you get a fantastic view right from the start.

Two of her slender fingers plunge right inside her needy cunt while the other hand circles a pretty nipple, tugging on it to tease, this lewd scene an invitation for you to come join.

"Thought you might not show up," Karina says, voice all sultry when all you've done is stand there and stare, looking right back. "Got a little warmed up without you. Hope that's okay.”

"And you call me the needy one.”

She hardly pays attention, more focused on the hurried movements her fingers make, curled to hit just the right spot as they slide effortlessly in. The bedsheets are rumpled by her head, where Karina lies as she thrusts in and out of her pussy, and her contorted features show no trace of shame—eyes heavy, gaze sharp, touching herself like there's no one else around.

"That's because you are. Now be a good boy and get up here.”

You aren't about to disobey.

Her moans don't cease for a moment, getting louder, less controlled by the second. But this heavenly view, Karina's flawless naked figure—it's everything, every gorgeous detail. You can only do so much admiring from the foot of the bed, and eventually, the call to explore her body is undeniable.

No reason to stall the inevitable when you climb the bed, sinking knee deep into the mattress. A front seat to this show, how Karina gets her fingers so deep in her cunt, until the sight is just torturous to watch, not to bury yourself between her legs already.

"Didn't hear a please. Don't tell me you've gotten so needy you've forgotten your manners?"

"Please? Pretty please, sweetheart,” Karina says in the most sarcastic tone imaginable, because she knows you're going to listen to her, regardless. While she looks like this, in such a depraved state, body entirely flushed and sticky with her arousal, you know your desire to tease her is absolutely meaningless. So you give an unapologetic glance, staring between her spread legs, and just savor the most erotic view, how two pretty fingers continue working away at her entrance.

But just when the show gets good, she pauses long enough to withdraw her own wet digits, making way for a much-needed, anticipated replacement.

Those digits pull out, absolutely drenched and shove right in your mouth, pushing in all the way until you slurp up her arousal. And while you suck her fingers clean, tongue wrapping all around them, it's not lost on you just how pathetic you must appear right now—chasing down that taste, long past the point of it lingering in your mouth, not embarrassed in the slightest.

"See, I knew you were the needy one." Karina is trying her hardest not to laugh at the desperation you have while sucking her fingers, but it's a losing battle. But you really don't care, not when you can make a show out of it, so sloppy and eager to keep them in your mouth.

But as much as you love the taste that is unmistakably Karina, it's not nearly enough to distract yourself—you're rock hard again. It doesn't matter that you came moments ago and that there's no way in hell you'll last any reasonable amount of time, not when her delicate hands reach right for your shaft, giving a few long strokes, which has your cock pulsating almost immediately.

"Are you even gonna be able to hold it long enough to fuck me, sweetie?" she asks, knowing damn well that the answer is an obvious not at all, but her hands feel so fucking good working away that you're going to pretend it's a possibility. “Because I need your cock inside me already. Before I get it myself."

Karina isn't patient like you thought, not in this state. Her thighs are all spread and slick, pussy looking more appetizing than ever before while you take a second to admire the view—the lips of her dripping entrance, pretty and plump, where your entire cock wants to sink right in. And judging by the look given, Karina agrees with that sentiment.

"Well?" she asks, the lack of patience shining through. Her wide, doe-eyed stare watches intently as you get situated. "Sweetheart, it's all mine—What are you waiting for? I’ve been waiting all day for this."

“All day? We haven’t even been up all day. Now, who’s the needy one?” You hardly get a response when her slender fingers wrap right around the base of your shaft. No more words, no more wasted motion—she strokes your hard, throbbing length slowly, guiding every inch right between her slippery folds. There's nothing to prevent what's next, no say in the matter when you feel the head of your cock disappear inside that wet heat.

You finish what she starts, easing yourself deeper into her warmth as a long moan erupts from Karina's parted lips. The slow push has her falling flat onto the mattress, head hitting the pillows as she adjusts to being stretched wide—and there’s no chance you can resist sinking all the way in, balls fucking deep, so your stiff cock, still so sensitive, slides the rest of the way into her dripping, hot, greedy cunt.

It feels like heaven the instant you fill her up, the walls of her pussy clamping down tightly around you the moment you're in all the way. Like always, the first time you sink in feels the best, where your dick throbs the most, smothered by all this warmth you can’t escape.

"God, Rina, you’re way too fucking tight—can’t believe how good you feel,” you groan as she gets such a harsh grip on your cock that you can barely move an inch. There's plenty of reason for hesitation. No need to deny the urge to stay right where you are, balls deep and surrounded by this heat.

“Go on, sweetheart—you don’t need me to tell you what to do, right?” Karina smiles, so blissed out and ready, her voice breathless as the last syllable trails off. And that look has you responding on instinct, the way you roll your hips back to the very edge where the head of your cock nearly exits, right before driving in balls deep once again, spreading her pink pussy lips further. "Let me feel every inch, baby.”

Another hard thrust. This time you bury yourself without hesitation while words turn into nothing but moans, every movement you make sinking in as much as you’re capable.

It's hard to even find words to express what you're feeling right now; it's overwhelming, being inside Karina, all this heat and tightness, how goddamn wet she is for you. Nothing else feels nearly this amazing. And her reactions, how your cock makes those slippery wet lips part whenever you slide back in, this endless bliss on repeat—it’s perfect.

"Fuck me, sweetie, get as deep as you can," is all Karina can get out, delicate fingers reaching out to sink into the sheets as you fall right into a deep rhythm. It’s gentle at first, but only for a fleeting moment, when you see this ravenous gaze that demands more, for you to fuck her without restraint.

You eagerly oblige and get your greedy hands all over her, holding onto that slender waist to anchor yourself in, fingers digging deep into the smooth, pale skin. Every ounce of caution vanishes, and then you start to really fuck into her wet cunt, buried deeper than imaginable, groaning whenever that tightness strangles your cock, refuses to never, ever let go.

Through these constant plunges that get your shaft so wet, her heavy breasts bounce so freely with every thrust that bottoms out with ease. It’s a constant struggle where to direct your attention, looking at her beautiful features, to her huge tits, and right back again—watching as Karina forms these lewd, drawn out moans while you fuck her like she demands, her heavenly cunt swallowing you right up, begging for more.

"Rina, baby—you're fucking perfect, these huge tits, your tight fucking cunt,” and you can’t even finish the thought, not a single word left in your mouth when she clenches around your cock, so warm and slippery, desperate to keep you there.

“My needy boy can’t even think straight when he’s fucking me so deep? Poor thing,” Karina says, and while all you can think of is making her moan without relent, she guides your hands up to her chest, the perfect opportunity to grope at her big bouncy tits.

"There you go, play with them however you like—god, just like that, keep fucking me like a good boy," she orders, eyes watching so closely when you bury to the hilt, all that slickness guiding your movements in a warm, sticky mess.

Not a thing could ruin your determination to give Karina everything she wants, when you keep those tits right underneath your palms, at a loss for words as they bounce unabated every time you plunge yourself back inside her, moaning every time. Her ridiculous breasts can't even fully fit inside your hands, even as you try, the heftiness unlike anything else when you squeeze as this beautiful woman writhes underneath your touch. You’re not sure what you’ve done to deserve her, but you’re not going to question a thing.

“Karina—“ There’s no point in getting a coherent thought out, because your mind is blank, flooded by all these sensations that surround your cock, and the softness of her jiggling breasts while you play with them so roughly, nipples so sensitive as you tease and tug them to get these deeper moans out.

"You’re so fucking wet,” you manage to finally get out, but the words sound slurred when you're drunk on lust, the vice grip of her cunt working you to a near delirious state. "Your tight fucking pussy makes my cock feel so good, I swear I can't fucking handle it—"

That’s when your hips move on their own, rutting without care, and you don’t even wait for Karina to respond, grabbing such a rough handful of her tits that gets her to moan so desperately while you slap them, hard enough to make a mark.

“Mm—baby, you know I love that,” she says, and you watch in awe how her breasts bounce repeatedly after every slap, a rosy hue appearing beneath that perfect, milky white skin. Your grip on is anything but gentle, pinching a nipple in between raw smacks that resonate across the room while your thrusts help create a harsher ripple, the redness on her chest more encouragement than anything.

Karina loves it. The harder you're fucking her, the more suffocating her pussy gets, moans starting to mix in with these cute, desperate whimpers that she just can't help. Her nipples underneath your fingers get so hard, even more sensitive whenever you aim your palm directly there. And god, you can't even think about anything else when your cock is buried deep in this delicious warmth, smacking her heavy tits as roughly as you please and staying exactly where her hot little cunt craves, leaving yourself nowhere to go but deeper and deeper between her legs.

"Fuck, sweetie, harder," she moans, words tumbling free when you play with her chest like it’s all you live for, showing absolutely no mercy whatsoever. "Pound me, fucking pound that pussy with everything you've got. I know you can.”

Your hands keep grabbing greedily, giving her chest an impatient, possessive grope, with this satisfying feeling where they jiggle so deliciously in your palms. Nothing feels as good as that, seeing them in constant motion, so bountiful when you cup them and give these shameless slaps—loud and frantic, alternating to each, focusing on how this hypnotic sight drives you insane, and the sounds Karina makes are just the cherry on top.

"Gonna cum if you keep fucking my cunt that hard, mmph, fuck, don’t stop, don’t fucking stop—"

It's all the more motivation to go even harder, bucking your hips, pistoning into Karina's dripping pussy as roughly as possible, each thrust guided by the constant flow of her juices that keeps you so deep inside. She’s gotten so sensitive by the rough treatment of her swollen, tender breasts, that you just watch the redness on her creamy flesh that doesn’t fade, how they bounce around so obscenely while you fuck her.

"Harder, keep fucking me as hard as you can, sweetheart—" is all she can choke out, words coming in ragged bursts whenever a powerful thrust sends her breath hitching.

You fuck her tight cunt the roughest she's ever taken it, grabbing her tits as aggressively as before, hips moving at the same breakneck pace that leaves you both losing it, sweat glistening on her skin, her walls swallowing you right back in each time you withdraw.

When you speed up past your limits, you can't help yourself—Karina’s warm fucking cunt feels so good that your inhibitions get tossed to the side, unable to control the way your cock pounds into her like she demands, like she deserves.

"So close, sweetie—god, gonna fucking cum, make me cum all over your cock,” she says so desperately, eyes half-lidded, the walls of her cunt clenching so impossibly tight you’re not even sure if you can last before she hits her peak. But when you get another slam in that’s so deep, Karina loses it—cumming hard right on the spot, her whole body going tense, back arching from how strong the euphoria feels.

There's a rush of warm, sticky fluid coating your cock while you refuse to relent, those pretty features displaying how intense the pleasure hits when she shakes, thighs quivering, toes curling, mouth falling open. And you do your best to let this high linger, slamming your hips against her body so she can take it all, even though you're barely hanging on yourself.

"Fucking god," Karina groans when her eyes open again and her gaze lands directly on you, a sweet, satisfied grin on her lips as you struggle to maintain composure. "So good at fucking my tight pussy, aren’t you? Didn’t think you were going to last long enough for me to—"

“Please, I have some self-control,” you start to say, not even believing the words yourself.

"Then get rid of whatever you have left," Karina breathes heavily, chest still heaving. And while you pump your cock all the way inside, she wraps her long, slender legs tight around your waist, heels digging into your back. "Need you to cum inside me. Think you can do that?"

You just thrust as fast and deep as possible to answer, the entirety of your wet shaft slamming into until everything becomes a blur. There’s nothing left to prevent the groans that escape your lips when you bury your face into the crook of her neck and ride that edge, fucking into Karina with reckless abandon.

"Need you to fill me up, make me feel all that hot cum," Karina pleads in your ear, her wet, warm cunt getting an even tighter grip around your cock that makes you go completely insane from how close you are. “You can do it, sweetheart, cum deep inside me, you know that’s how I like it."

But she doesn't have to tell you that when this tightness wrapped around you won't let up as you go completely feral, groaning into the crook of her neck, picking a spot and licking, kissing, sucking her pale, beautiful skin. You lose all focus, and it's easy enough to follow Karina's urgent pleas when those dulcet tones slip into your ear, when the intensity grows and you're pulling every ounce of pleasure you can get.

“Almost there, aren’t you? Empty your balls in me, sweetie. I know you can’t take it any more.”

Your hips do what Karina asks without any hesitation, surrendering completely, plunging yourself inside that hot, heavenly heat until there’s no turning back. She’s keeping you buried there with those powerful thighs, making sure there’s no escape for your aching cock while you get as deep as possible, nails digging into your back for extra measure, and with a final, powerful thrust—

That’s when you finally unload inside Karina—you can only groan helplessly while erupting thick, hot spurts, her nails dragging across your back as that perfect cunt milks out everything she can get and beyond that. Such an explosive release overwhelms you, especially as she holds you hostage with those sweaty thighs, and all you can do is pump her full of seed like there was never any other option.

Nothing can ever, ever compare, endlessly filling Karina’s greedy little cunt, just helplessly throbbing when you’re buried so deep, flooding it all into her body with the release she’s earned. Even as you fuck your load deeper into those slippery depths, she keeps you locked in place, still trying to drain every drop from your balls that she can get, practically begging for more.

But when it starts to calm down—that doesn’t mean you have any urge to pull out.

“Feels so warm, that’s a good boy,” Karina praises, but you can hardly get a word out when you look up, eyes landing right on that body glistening with sweat, chest heaving to catch her breath after it all. It’s a view you can’t resist, seeing how her breasts rise and fall when she lets out exhausted gasps, and if you weren’t buried in this sticky mess you’d be more than willing to lick her all up.

“Rina, fuck—“ you groan out when her limbs unlock from your waist one by one.

"Didn't think you had that much left in you after you covered my tits the first time," she says, meeting your gaze and you can’t help but admire how her disheveled appearance makes her look even prettier. "I think your balls really do never empty."

"What am I supposed to do when your body looks like this?” you ask in this desperate attempt to catch your breath. ”When your tight cunt feels so fucking good, and those perfect fucking tits—"

Karina just laughs.

"Always going on about my tits. I think you're a little obsessed with them. Not that I blame you. I'm sure you saw those stares earlier, too, on our little walk back?” Karina asks, a gentle reminder about the useless walk that started this all. “Must have felt good to show me off, knowing the guys couldn't believe their eyes. But only you get to suck on them, play with them like you just did. Only you get to put that cock between them and—"

"Jesus, Rina, please, I can't go again.” That's not entirely true, but the mere suggestion already has your spent, exhausted cock stirring with interest again. Through this entire conversation, you're still inside Karina, her cunt remaining impossibly warm, this sticky mess threatening to overflow and spill everywhere.

"Poor thing, I've gotten you all tired out. You sure you don't want one more? Just a quick little ride while I bounce these tits in your cute face? I promise to go nice and easy…" Karina smiles, batting her eyelashes for added effect. As much as that sounds like everything you’ve dreamed of, your body betrays you in that very moment as the sensitivity starts to kick in. So, with an unimaginable amount of willpower, you pull yourself out with a groan.

When you both look right down to the mess you've created, a huge, sticky flood gushes right out of her—an absolute deluge of white leaking out, dripping all over her thighs and onto the brand new sheets.

“Too tired to answer, sweetie? You don't want another load dripping out of me just like this? Like I said, I wouldn't go hard—just nice and slow, while you watch. A sweet treat for my sweet boy."

God knows you want nothing else, to just lay on your back and drink in the view of Karina riding you, watching those perfect breasts jiggle and bounce around wildly while you don't even have to move. And yet you can't deny this exhaustion in your bones that has other plans. "Karina, please, I'm so—"

"So spoiled? Is that what you were going to say?" she responds cheekily.

There's not a damn chance in hell you could handle this woman going full speed on your poor, overstimulated cock when she's capable of making you blow within seconds, riding you like only she can and no doubt knocking you unconscious when the job is done.

"Do you even know what nice and slow is? When has that ever been your style?"

Karina's jaw drops in disbelief, a hand over her mouth as if she's truly surprised by the remark. "Are you saying I'm incapable of such a thing?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying."

"Fine, you big baby," she teases as she shakes her head with a smile. "I'll fuck your brains out some other time, I guess. Wouldn't want to break my favorite toy."

You're unable to form a comeback, succumbing to eventual collapse on top of her, face resting on her chest where you take a second to indulge and revel in the sensation of being pressed against her warm body. Karina's fingers run gently through your hair, stroking those sweaty locks.

"You can do anything you want to me next time. But after I'm good and ready again."

"Anything, huh?"

You nod, not even fully cognizant of what those words might mean until it's far too late, when a wave of fatigue takes its effect. Karina guides you away, bringing her head closer and placing a gentle kiss on your forehead.

✦ ✦

Hours pass by before you stir once more, having fallen asleep right afterwards on Karina's supple chest, the softest pillows you could ask for. You're unsure what time of day it is, if it's evening or even the next morning already—all you know is you’ve never slept so well.

"Look who finally decided to wake up. It's about time, sleepyhead,” a familiar teasing voice greets as you look up to find Karina's playful features looking at you.

"Sorry. Someone sucked all the energy right out of me."

"Oh, don’t be so dramatic. How are you feeling, sweetie?" Karina asks, running fingers through your hair so tenderly.

"Good as new. Could use a shower, though."

"Well, how about you wait a minute? There’s just…” Her voice trails off, and it's clear she has something important on her mind, as her fingers slide through your disheveled hair that she's been stroking for quite some time now. “Something I’ve got planned for you.”

You're not even completely lucid yet before her lips crash against yours, a heated, demanding kiss that can't be refused. No doubt she dominates the moment and slips her tongue inside your mouth, tasting you as thoroughly as possible. And that‘s all it takes for the lust to creep back in, forcing the blood to rush south and a familiar hardness to kick in.

"Remember what you said before you passed out?"

You just stare at Karina dumbfounded—certain you had a clear recollection, but also well aware this sudden awakening makes recalling events quite difficult, so she leans in to remind you. "Told me you'd let me do anything. Are you still on board, sweetie?"

Now you remember. It's not like the words came from nowhere, and you aren't in the business of breaking promises. A simple nod is all the response needed, and Karina bites her lower lip with anticipation. And with that, she disappears into the bathroom, leaving you curious about whatever she has in mind. When she reemerges, the picture becomes crystal clear.

Karina returns back inside, now sporting black lingerie—stockings, garter belt, the works, all connected with an assortment of straps. There's no doubt your eyes are locked right on that sinful body and all those curves, because you’ve never seen her look so good. Quite the surprise that you can’t even process it all; the way her thick thighs look in that sheer fabric, and those heavy tits look fucking amazing in this particular bra, held together with hopes and dreams, the barely existent fabric exposing far more than it hides. As if her chest didn’t already need more showcasing, this amplifies the sheer size of her assets, drawing further attention right where it should be.

"What do you think?" she asks, a small smirk appearing on her pretty face as your hungry eyes wander.

You can't possibly be expected to form an intelligent response. Such a seductive outfit has you nearly speechless—Karina has never looked more breathtaking, straight out of your deepest desires. "Do you even need to ask?"

"Yes. Because I like hearing you say it," she replies almost sheepishly, posing to show herself off, bending over forward to show off that absurd amount of cleavage.

"Like every fantasy I've ever had, Rina. You're absolutely fucking gorgeous.”

"Thanks, sweetie." There's a slight pause while she beams from ear to ear, and then the mood shifts when she looks at you—you can see the gears turning inside her head. "Now, follow me. Lose the boxers."

You do so at once and discard that piece of clothing, not particularly caring where it lands. Following Karina comes second nature as you walk obediently behind to the living room, which looks exactly the same as earlier—except for one thing.

Waiting for you is a single chair sitting in the middle of the room, without arms or extra frills and a curved back, but mostly an ordinary black chair. "Alright, sweetie. I want you to take a seat right here."

So without hesitation, you sit, positioning yourself in the chair as comfortably as possible while Karina’s eyes linger, scanning your naked figure while you await further instructions. She gives no immediate explanation, instead circling behind you as that silky touch caresses your back, along your shoulders, making her way around to your neck, nails gently scraping across.

And while she's got you distracted, Karina moves quickly, taking both of your arms, holding them behind your back as she ties your wrists together with what feels like soft rope, securing you in place.

"Anything, sweetie?" she echoes right in your ear, the question seemingly rhetorical while she ties you up tight.

“Yeah—anything.”

Once finished, Karina stands directly in front, towering over you, sizing up your helpless state as you get a closeup view of your desires manifested, full-blown sin, like it’s a reward for your cooperation.

You can only stare, nearly stunned to silence as your vision is filled by the curves of Karina's body and her lacy undergarments—the shapely thickness of her stocking-covered thighs, the dangerous valley of her breasts desperate to spill out, all framed nicely and right in the center of your line of vision, everything displayed like a beautiful work of art, no ounce of modesty in sight. "Get a good look, sweetheart. Don't be shy."

How could you when she has your attention held captive so easily—the way those tits bounce from the slightest movement, and how goddamn delicious her body looks that makes you throb between your legs like never before. You don’t close your eyes or turn your gaze while you salivate over this gift just out of reach, cock aching like crazy, unable to think, and certainly unable to move.

Karina does her best to interrupt your thoughts as she grazes the side of your face, letting her manicured nails scratch down to your chin, the slightest hint of contact sending shivers through your body. "You seem pretty comfortable tied up. Enjoying this?"

"Not as much as you seem to be," you reply, earning you this devilish little look on her face that turns more sinister with every waking second. Karina tilts your chin up, diverting your gaze from that sinful chest so she forces eye contact. “Tell me, sweetie—what would you do right now if you weren't all tied up like this?"

What wouldn't you do? The options are endless, but at the very least you’d pin Karina right on the ground, rip off every piece of fabric hiding her beautiful body and well—

It’s hard to even put your fantasies into words. “Bend you over that fucking couch and shove my cock right inside you. Wouldn't even take those panties off—just shove them aside and make you cum so hard you forget your own name.”

The reaction to those words is instant. First, her eyes widen, like she’s visualizing just that, swiping her tongue across those sultry lips. Her weight shifts and those creamy thighs press together, with no missing the way her breathing deepens, chest even that more enticing, making your greed boil to the surface as you ache to grope and squeeze those full tits in your grasp. “Would you now? What would you do once you get my little cunt all stretched out for you, dripping wet? Tell me, sweetie. In detail."

A brief moment to gather your thoughts while Karina continues to pull out your deepest fantasies. “With an ass like that, there’s no way I’m not getting my hands all over it—slap those pretty cheeks until it stings, until it’s bright fucking red with my handprints marking you all over.”

“Fuck, look at you trying to act all tough and dominant,” she says, and lets out a long, content sigh. "More. Come on, don't hold back."

"I'd finger your greedy little asshole while pounding into your cunt. Open you up real good and fuck you while you beg for more, beg me to ruin you.”

Her smile only gets bigger at the suggestions—she's clearly enjoying this. "That's cute that you think I'd ever beg for anything—that's really more your style," she replies, licking those glossy lips like she's imagining every little detail, so tempted to put your words into reality.

"But it has been a while since I had anything in my tight ass. But what comes next? What else would you do to my poor, helpless body?"

You imagine it all, Karina with her hands tied behind her back, bent over in this obscene angle, face pressed up against the cushions with nothing to help her escape while you just have your way with her—

"I'd fucking destroy your cunt. Grab that long, beautiful hair and pull hard on it, so fucking hard. Hold those hips and smack that perfect fat ass until it's bruised while I pump that hungry cunt full of hot cum. Again and again, for as long as I want."

The mere thought alone makes you so impossibly hard it hurts, and you realize you’ve fallen into her trap, going along with her game far too easily, not thinking things through when all you’ve done is riled yourself up. But seeing the satisfaction spread over her face as you stumble over your words is worth the sacrifice.

"Who knew you had such a dirty little mind? Just hearing all that, fuck, do you know how wet you’ve gotten me?” Karina asks as she steps in a bit closer, locking lips again, tongue slipping in so easily. Her free hand strokes you slowly, gripping your cock hard enough to make you moan in her mouth—and while those luscious fingers glide all the way down, you feel something slide over your shaft, down to your base, something secure and snug around you, applying just the slightest pressure.

"Rina, what—"

She smiles, so innocently, like she's proud, and it clicks into place what exactly it is before she explains.

"A cock ring. It should make everything I do to you feel even better. And maybe help you last longer. You should start to feel the effects in a minute or two," Karina answers. "It doesn't hurt, does it?"

You shake your head immediately; the idea taking some time to register—wondering how a small rubber ring could amplify all these sensations, but you trust her words. With some thought, you conclude this might actually be a blessing when dealing with whatever you're about to be in store for. You're not exactly in a position to argue with it anyway.

Despite the pressure, the tightness, you can't complain—the sensation feels strangely wonderful. All the blood rushes to your throbbing cock, making the pleasure feel far greater than usual, almost overwhelming, every stroke Karina gives infinitely more intense.

"Starting to feel good, isn't it, sweetie? Getting nice and sensitive for me?"

Your cock twitches in response, almost involuntarily trying to thrust upward to feel even more, desperate for whatever Karina will give. So distracted by how good these fingers feel wrapped around your shaft you’ve almost forgotten your helpless state, only reminded when the rope digs into your wrist and limits your movement. With an almost painful grip, she jerks faster, all that sensitivity flaring up, making every sensation all more powerful.

When she stops stroking, her thumb just presses down on that spot right below the swollen head, rubbing ever so gently. Jerking forward becomes something out of your control, and you grit your teeth at the intensity as she applies constant pressure to that area, a loud moan you had no intention of releasing escapes so easily. That same pattern continues, a ritual: a slow rhythm of strokes that ends in her rubbing that same sweet spot, then she picks up right where she left off, squeezing and pumping her hand back up.

"I can just imagine it—I bet it feels ten times more sensitive than ever. And even harder than you've ever been. God, sweetie, you're leaking so much already, and we've only just started. I'm going to have so much fun with you."

She's not exaggerating, and when one finger circles over the tip, drawing back down a path down to your base, slow, painfully slow—you know this is going to be torturous to endure. With every little touch or stroke, your cock grows more desperate, throbbing heavily in her gasp, craving every bit of stimulation like oxygen. If not for this tight little ring preventing your release, you have a feeling you’d already be making a mess all over your stomach.

But what really undoes you is the teasing smirk on her face. The way her thumb brushes across the sensitive tip, eliciting an audible gasp when she pulls away.

"Does it feel good when I stroke your big, throbbing cock? When I squeeze it just like this? Karina asks, refusing to move faster than she needs to, a maddening pace, up and down, all the way to your swollen, dripping tip, collecting your precum on her fingers. “Are you trying not to lose it already?"

When you only groan in response, desperate and unable to put any coherent thoughts into words, Karina presses her thumb against your leaking slit for a fleeting moment, before stroking quicker, sliding all the way down to the base of your shaft and repeating the motion again.

With each little touch, each little graze over your cockhead, she grins at every noise you let slip—every single whine, every last whimper. Karina grabs your cock as rough as she pleases, the other hand coming to fondle your heavy balls, squeezing just the right amount to get you absolutely weak—rolling the weight between her fingertips.

“Now, sweetie—tell me, wouldn’t you like me on the sofa, my legs all spread, dripping wet while you fill up my tight cunt? Your perfect cock plowing in and out of me, splitting me open, that would feel so good, wouldn’t it? How would you even take me if you were so sensitive, so on edge? You’d fucking burst as soon as my pussy swallowed you up, wouldn't you?"

All you can think of is exactly that exact scenario—how fucking tight and wet that warm fucking cunt always gets, squeezing your sensitive shaft and bringing you to climax within the very first thrust. Imagining burying yourself deep into that sticky mess, folding her in half as you fuck her at your leisure, a raw, merciless pace. And then filling her with your sticky cum as those tits bounce from each vicious stroke, over and over, using her body exactly like you need.

You try to shove that image from your mind, knowing you're already falling apart from the tiniest bit of imagination.

But it's nothing to how Karina makes you feel with her delicate fingers wrapped firmly around your cock, twisting a bit before stroking down to the base and then repeating all over again, spitting directly onto your cock to ease the glide.

“Could you even manage not to burst when you get buried deep in this ass?” she asks, snapping your attention back, keeping her thumb circled around the base of that swollen cockhead. “Maybe we can test that out. See how quickly you blow your load when I'm sitting on top of your cock, spreading my cheeks open and stretching my asshole until you're buried as deep as I can take…”

“Rina, please—“

And there's no reply—just the deliberate, focused teasing when Karina spins around, now with her back turned, offering a glimpse of that amazing ass you've been dying to get your hands on. Before you can even prepare, the supple flesh of her ass sits back against your shaft, grinding against what’s trapped right in between her soft, luscious ass cheeks.

That's when the true agony kicks in. That tight, round ass starts rubbing your poor, deprived cock, while your restrained hands tug against your binds, the urge to grasp her hips and slam the full length straight up her asshole becoming unbearable.

"It's a little selfish of me, isn't it?" Karina chuckles, leaning back on your body. "You can't even do anything right now. All I'd have to do is sit on this needy cock of yours, get it all inside this tight little asshole, and your balls would be drained within seconds. Just need a little of that strawberry oil that smells so good. It's been a while since you've fucked my ass—what, a week maybe?"

The grinding persists, using your thighs to help guide her, filling you with frustration as you struggle in this helpless position. It's impossible to take what you desire when you’re tied up, the teasing insufferable.

You can’t deny that every inch of Karina is sculpted by the gods, and that ass—indulgently round, voluptuous cheeks, always flaunted with those snug sweatpants or the tightest jeans imaginable. It's not even fair how relentless she’s gotten, and you can only stare as your shaft slides helplessly between her plump cheeks, the only thing between you and heaven is that flimsy piece of fabric covering her asshole.

"Rina, please, god. I swear I’ll—“

"What was that, baby? Please, what?”

Your response falls silent the second she pulls off, spinning back around to see your desperation up close, letting your cock twitch helplessly against your abdomen. The loss of warmth against you is almost a greater cruelty than the sight of that chest all covered up in nothing more than thin lace, hopelessly confined.

"Didn't hear an answer. Is it getting to be too much?" Karina asks, flashing this all-knowing smile when she begins squeezing your cock hard, jerking the entire length with both her expert hands, the friction too intense to handle. The pumps get so frantic you can hardly speak, your balls growing painfully tight at all this denial.

"Y-yes—need to be inside you. Please, any part of you, baby," you plead, your voice sounding so pathetic, borderline unrecognizable.

Karina ponders for a moment, brows furrowed, as though in deep consideration. You have no choice but to wait for her verdict, in torment, clenching your fists, dying for the chance to touch her. She presses a finger to your lips and runs it down your chest, flicking against a nipple that sends another rush of delirious pleasure through you. "No, not yet, sweetie. You've been such a good boy so far—just hold on a little longer."

Her smile is every bit wicked as she swings a leg over around your waist, a bit of her weight settling on your hips. The fabric of her stockings is silky and soft, teasing the area where it rests, even more excruciating that you can't lay a hand on those thighs. Right away she resumes her harsh grip on your cock, pumping so fast, edging right to that climax only to deny it at the last moment—slowly and painfully easing back off.

You're nearly shaking, hips bucking on repeat, not sure if the frustration feels better or worse than not being touched in the first place. Not to mention how everything feels ten times worse with this damn ring wrapped around the base of your cock that taunts you. "God, you really are ready to explode at any moment. Poor baby, you need to cover me in cum more than anything, isn’t that right?”

"Yes, fuck—please, Rina, I can't take it, need to cum so bad," you plead, looking up at her, throwing all pride away.

That's when Karina pumps you ever faster, dragging you over to that finish line, watching your reaction with those devilish eyes when she eases off before your orgasm has a chance to arrive, right back off your shaft and denying it once again. It's a long, torturous game—a few fast strokes, squeezing the head of your cock just how you need.

And then she stops completely.

It goes like this, with no reprieve, leaving your poor cock to throb helplessly against your stomach, painful when Karina leaves it abandoned with nothing but cold, frigid air. Bliss and denial, an endless cycle.

"So needy, aren't you, sweetheart? Wanting so bad to blow your load and cover me with this massive load," Karina laughs, admiring the strain on your face. “Tell you what—“

There’s a necessary respite that lets you breathe for a moment, when Karina squeezes your balls nice and tight, keeping that desperation held there for far too long. And that's when she reaches behind to unfasten her bra, moving at an infuriatingly slow pace, peeling the straps one by one, dragging this on for as long as she possibly can.

You watch intently, hanging on each and every motion as she removes and tosses the entire piece right over your head. The best reward you can get for enduring this torture, you think. Her bare breasts come into view again—and it feels like the first time all over, nothing as erotic as these massive tits on display in front of you, that you almost don’t care that you can’t even squeeze them yourself.

Almost.

With nothing to stand in the way of your shameless leering, you do so, and Karina welcomes it—brushing her thumbs over her stiff nipples while you commit it all to memory.

You're more than ready to erupt all over her, to spill everything across those pale breasts, and in the middle of your haze you hardly notice a familiar bottle popping open in her hands. As if this scene weren’t impossible to deal with already. Pouring oil all over her supple chest in a circle, Karina douses herself in more than a generous amount—stealing all of your attention when she rubs and spreads it evenly across her creamy skin.

She has no intention of stopping there, generously applying more down to her abs, along that tight little frame, down to her milky thighs, still all wrapped in those silky stockings that drive you crazy more than anything. Now she's really playing dirty now, coating and slicking up her entire body for the occasion. And the worst part is how you can't do a goddamn thing—left watching this entire show while your cock aches with neglect as she teases her stiff nipples between her fingertips.

"Liking the view, sweetie?" she asks, running her slippery hands across her curves, knowing what a pathetic state you must be in, an oiled-up Karina up there with one of your biggest weaknesses.

There's nothing you can manage, not even a nod as you're left helplessly staring, craving all that gorgeous skin under your own hands and you don't even have it in you to beg at this point. Anything you'd say would be beyond incomprehensible. "Can't say a word anymore? No more dirty fantasies you wanna share?"

Silence is a rare occasion, even when Karina has you bound up tight like this. So you must really be in awful shape. You'd love to give a satisfying response, but at this point, all your attempts come out as nothing more than groans. That's about all that you have left.

Still, Karina takes that as an answer and climbs back into your lap, looking every bit irresistible, all covered and doused in that scented oil that soaks through whatever leftover lace exists, giving it all a nice glisten—nearly making your dick burst from the sight alone. She grabs a heavy handful of her breasts between slippery, oiled fingers, and just seeing her knead and fondle herself gets you squirming hard in your restraints, wanting so badly to sink your lips into them, desperate to have a taste.

"Since you've been such a good boy—putting up with everything I’ve thrown at you and held on," Karina ponders out loud, as she begins to grind her oily body against you, all the friction intensifying every inch that touches, your skin burning with her touch. "Then maybe my baby deserves a nice, thick load across my chest after handling so much of this, don’t you? Think you could blow a big, messy load right across these tits for me?"

A frantic nod is all you have to offer, overwhelmed from her hot body sliding against you, all coated in warm slickness, driving you beyond the edge. Every ounce of your sanity is being tested. All this slippery flesh against your own drives you towards a finish that’s so imminent, so close, but you still have to wait until the very end, until Karina allows you that permission.

"That won't do," Karina says, slowing her movements down to a mere crawl. "Need you to use your words, sweetie. Let me know how badly you need it. Don’t I deserve that for getting you this worked up in the first place?”

There’s a string of words that escape that hardly make up a proper sentence. “S-so bad. Need to cum, please.”

But that doesn't satisfy Karina in the slightest as she pushes off your lap and shifts lower down to her knees. This sight feels even worse than having her in your lap—far too tempting, watching her breasts bounce as she lowers and wedges herself closer, hovering between your spread legs. "Baby, we both know that's not enough. Give me a good reason to make you cum."

If not for those oily hands stroking over your thighs, you'd probably be responding a lot differently—but it's so tough to remain concentrated in this state, that the slightest touch nearly unravels you, the neediness in your voice escalating so rapidly.

"F-fuck, god, please, Rina—want my thick load spilled all over you, need it all over your pretty face, wanna cum so fucking hard and cover every part of you. P-please. Fuck, need it so bad."

Your voice cracks near the end of it—enough for Karina to get both hands around your cock, her fingers fully gripping around every sensitive, throbbing inch of it. And god, you're so close it hurts. You feel like you've gone a month without any relief, and you can't suppress the moan that follows, the full brunt of an orgasm churning through your heavy balls, every sensation twice, maybe three times more powerful than usual.

"That's a good boy. Wasn't so hard, was it?" Karina chuckles, beginning to work your shaft with long, exaggerated strokes and her thumb circling all over the sensitive tip of your cock, admiring how absolutely broken you are. The climax builds an even faster and uncontrollable pressure, balls swelling so painfully tight—everything feels unbearably tense, not even able to imagine holding yourself back now.

She gives your cock a light slap with her palm, drawing the most pitiful groan from you as you stare on in disbelief, the sensitivity too harsh to bear—and it's not any kind of relief when she gives another, a firmer hit to your swollen cockhead, afraid of blowing your load any second now. You think this is your limit, when all Karina does is deliver repeated slaps to your throbbing shaft, then gripping it even tighter before jerking her hand along the full length.

"Look at you, you're gonna cum so much, aren't you? Maybe the biggest load you'll blow this month—let's put you out of your misery. Empty those heavy fucking balls and cum for me, sweetheart."

Those final words are all the relief you could've asked for, spoken with an affectionate smile as Karina leans forward and strokes your aching cock furiously, bringing you long past the tipping point. Everything begins with the hardest twitch in her grasp—an unexpected intensity that only progresses when she spurs it all on, her slippery, slender fingers pumping as fast as they can go, making sure you let it all out.

And there's not an ounce of strength in you left to do anything but that, the tension within your balls unable to hold back anything, leaving you with the one option—to embrace it, the relentless strokes that help achieve ecstasy that's so long overdue.

Karina's smiling, pretty face in front of you just adds an extra bonus.

There's no going back, and when your balls tighten, nothing can prepare you for the hardest orgasm you've felt in ages—all directed at her face as she anticipates what you've worked so hard for, not letting up one bit. You let out the most unrestrained deep groan as warm, thick spurts burst from the tip, immediately splattering across that stunningly beautiful face, hitting across her forehead and down to the bridge of her nose without a single flinch.

No thoughts to how far the shots reach as you explode more, spraying right across her cheeks, into her hair as Karina pumps the entire time, coaxing out your thickest load, changing the angle to drain you over her soft, pillowy lips as you tremble so violently underneath, overcome with a mixture of exhaustion and relief. Everything keeps pulsing hard—covering even more of her porcelain complexion in white, your hot seed running thick across her face as she unloads every heavy burst over herself, seemingly endless, not easing her grip on your cock even once.

The strength of your orgasm lingers once your load empties across her face, leaving a complete and total mess that you'll never forget, Karina completely covered in these thick strands that start to drip, her expression quite satisfied and content. The aftermath lingers—breathing so heavy even once your cock finishes the grand finale, throbbing wildly throughout it all and even Karina’s left unable to believe just how much has built up during your denial.

"That's my good boy," Karina sighs, continuing to pump your oversensitive cock, even though there's no more left to spill—a series of weak twitches firing off after such a large release as you're reduced to a shuddering mess. "Look at all this cum you've painted my fucking face with, sweetie. Aren't I lucky? God, it's just all dripping down, so fucking thick and warm. That must have felt so fucking good, didn’t it?”

You can hardly hear the giggles escaping, or process the image in front of you, Karina all covered in white and dripping with the results of that long-awaited climax, some of it reaching her sweaty, oily chest as well. When her hands let go, all that tension lifts and you finally breathe with the greatest ease, sinking back against the chair.

And that's when you get to let it all sink in, this mess that Karina wears—it's rather artistic, in the lewdest way possible, clinging to her lips and chin, practically everywhere, thick and messy.

Your breaths take longer to even themselves out, despite feeling the purest sense of relief you haven't felt in weeks, unable to take your eyes off from how your cum starts to slowly roll down the side of her chin, where Karina catches with her finger and slowly swipes upwards. She makes sure you're watching carefully and brings it to her lips, delicately taking that long, wet digit in her mouth, wrapping and sucking her lips around.

It's absolutely sinful to watch her suck the mess off like that, tasting your seed right off her fingertips as she hums and savors your load.

"Tastes even better after what I put you through," Karina says with this wicked laugh, and you can hardly move a muscle from all this. "But you know—" And that pause she gives is filled with a whole other sort of danger, that same grin plastered across her face while she stays kneeling between your legs. "Still haven't gotten to ride you yet. After a load like this, I bet you don't have much left to give, hmm?"

You can't even begin to believe what you're hearing now.

"Jesus, Rina, are you trying to kill me? I think you emptied me enough for the rest of this month."

Contrary to what you want, there's this devilish look that lingers as she glances down between your legs, noticing how you're definitely still plenty stiff—maybe because of that magical ring still wrapped on your cock, or that you can't look away from those cum-stained features. "R-Rina—please, give me like a day or two, at least."

"Poor thing. Can't handle this much?" Karina gets a few more strokes in, gripping and sliding along your sensitive length as if you hadn't released that large load over her, the pain of overstimulation stirring again in the worst possible ways. "But what if I just keep you here, all nice and hard for me. For the next hour, for two hours, three? Would you like that, sweetie?"

Even her delicate, loving caresses cause your body to shake and convulse. And god, you have never been this sensitive ever before. "Please no—fuck, you can't—g-god, too much, hurts—"

Karina can't help but feel a bit of mercy, so she stops, slowly sliding a finger down to your base and removing the rubber ring from your sore cock—within an instant, your entire length relaxes. "Fine, fine. I suppose that's enough."

Just this sudden reduction in sensations feels like heaven, and all you can manage is a deep, exhausted sigh. But the thing that scares you—is how part of you could easily say yes. "Th-thank you, god—"

"But we're not ending the night without me riding the fuck out of you. You're not off the hook yet." Fair enough, you think, even if you'd be entirely useless after this whole experience. “So, shower or..."

"A little hard to shower like this," you remind, still struggling to gather energy.

She stifles a laugh. "Oh that? Guess I should let you out of those," Karina muses, undoing the ties around both of your hands. And finally, you have some freedom, taking the deepest, most rewarding breath as she rubs your wrists to help alleviate the discomfort. "Offer's still on the table, though. One more go with me on top riding you?"

"Rina, please, what part of you're going to kill me was unclear?"

"Alright, alright, just checking," Karina laughs, hoisting herself off her knees. "Then come join me in the shower. Still got a bit of you on me."

Now that you can get behind—because you'll never deny the chance to see Karina's naked body under the hot running water, all soaped up and lathered.

✦ ✦

Karina has never been one to sleep in. Especially not when she has class in the morning, so you're surprised to wake up first, lying next to her warm, dead-asleep figure. You don’t remember much of anything before passing out, given that a proper round two (three?) didn't exactly go as scheduled. But the soreness does slowly return when you shift your body, and she's the sole culprit for that.

You can’t help but notice how beautiful Karina looks with hardly anything covering her voluptuous body—a thin sheet not quite pulled all the way over, exposing most of her pale skin.

Moving carefully, you try not to wake her—but it's a mistake to underestimate just how much Karina's eyes are really closed when her arms pull you in, holding you hostage against the warmth of her chest.

"Stay,” she murmurs, breaking the silence and wrapping a leg around your waist. “Were you watching me sleep again?"

"Maybe," you reply, reciprocating the embrace and sighing happily when her arms coil around your back, pulling you closer against her body. "Am I not allowed to admire someone who looks so beautiful in the morning?"

"Oh my god, shut up,” Karina grumbles, but she’s easily silenced when you kiss her neck, lips running delicately across her skin, breathing her scent in.

"Already so riled up for me this early? Even after yesterday?" she asks, the question murmured between soft pants. "Didn't tire you completely out?"

"Impossible," you respond, delivering more tender kisses, intent on working your way down as you start to explore.

"So insatiable—where do your hands plan on wandering to, hmm?" Karina laughs, shuddering at the teasing strokes along her hips.

"Somewhere you'd like, I hope."

Your answer leaves Karina hesitating to respond—only giggling quietly and helping you move down the curves of her body. "Need me to give you the tour?"

"Well—if you're offering."

"Like an impatient puppy, aren't you?" Karina teases, planting a kiss on your cheek. "But it's so fucking cute how desperate you are this early. My needy good boy."

"Can't help it when there's so much for me to explore.”

“Explore all you'd like then, sweetheart," Karina offers, the words leaving her so easy as she takes your wrists, leading your hands up to her delicious chest that you immediately have the urge to knead, sinking your fingers deep into those full, pillowy breasts.

"I assume you wanna start with these?"

And her smirk just encourages your touch, a low sigh coming from her lips when you follow her cue, cupping and squeezing the heavy weight of her gorgeous tits in both hands, the warmth of them so delicious while you grab a firm handful.

"You know me too well."

The enthusiasm you show isn't shy when you roll the stiff peaks of her nipples under your thumb, relishing the sounds that follow from Karina—the soft moans and whimpers when you toy with them. And you can't help but bury your face in those massive, heaving breasts, running your lips across every supple, tempting inch, absolutely drowning in all this pale flesh.

"So greedy, are we?" Karina mutters, almost smug as her fingers rake through your hair, gasps building while enjoying the attention lavished on her breasts. You give a hard squeeze, savoring the feel of her soft, supple flesh filling your palms, the shape that fills your hands so wonderfully, and you plant the most greedy kisses all along every inch of that delicious valley, unable to pull yourself away.

There’s nothing else to be said, not when these ravenous slurps can answer for you.

Nowhere else you would rather be than kissing your way all across her chest, flicking your tongue against a nipple that gets these loud moans flowing when you take it into your mouth, sucking hungrily before pulling back and doing it all over again, feasting on the other.

You don't leave either neglected, rolling the other bud between your fingertips while your mouth slurps around the opposite, devouring as much as you can. With every seal of your lips, Karina somehow grows more sensitive the longer she squirms beneath you.

"Fuck, you're really enjoying this, aren't you? They're so sensitive," she moans, arching her back as her chest beckons, offering up as much as you can ask for. But per usual, you're not content with just tasting, teeth grazing ever so slightly across her pretty nipples, nibbling at each swollen nub. And the instant you hear the sharp intake of Karina's breath, that's all you need to indulge further—playfully pulling into your teeth, tugging even rougher.

"Good," you respond without missing a beat between laps of your tongue, swiping over and toying with both nipples, giving no end of this stimulation that your lips provide.

Karina holds the back of your head as your lips suck so fervently, long past the point her breasts glisten, covered in spit. She doesn't let you wander elsewhere just yet, not that there's anywhere else you would want to go, enjoying this buffet she serves so willingly.

"Oh my god—you're too fucking much, love your mouth on my tits," Karina pants, tugging at your hair, encouraging your lust. Her beautiful breasts bounce when they leave your grasp, but your lips and fingers stay relentless, tweaking and playing with her tits as your mouth gets beyond sloppy, popping off and licking all over with even more vigor, a hunger that can't be satiated.

Her hand around the back of your head guides you to whichever needs the most attention, your mouth gladly following, working the perfect combination between your lips and teeth to tease out a plethora of whimpers, desperate cries, saliva dripping everywhere. You suck and suck without mercy, completely gone, absorbed in her huge fucking tits like nothing else exists—

"Shit, wait, wait—sweetie, come back up," Karina suddenly demands, pulling you out of your lust-fueled haze. It's a tough separation to make, prying your lips involuntarily off her swollen, slippery buds.

"What? What’s wrong?"

"The time. Fuck, I can't be late today," Karina sighs, peering at the clock behind you.

"Yes you can. I can't just—"

"Hey, I’m serious,” she groans. "Just because you're that desperate to stay latched onto my tits, doesn't mean I want to miss my exam.”

When you meet her eyes—there’s no real sense of truth or commitment, even after she gives this light tug that barely has any energy behind it. This isn’t fooling anyone. In the blink of an eye, she's under you once again, squirming underneath your lips. "My schedule—mm, no, hey, are you listening?”

"You can't leave me after this. All worked up, I haven't even gotten you off yet."

"This is entirely on you."

"No, I'm not taking the blame. This is on you and these goddamn perfect tits of yours."

"Sweetie—" she whines, growing less and less inclined to leave the bed when she grabs your wrist. "Sweetie, I swear to fucking god, can't you just keep your dick to yourself until I get back?"

"No, not when you keep moaning so much," you tell her, refusing to relent. "You're more turned on than I am."

There’s this feigned surprise on her face when she hears that, like it’s somehow the worst thing you’ve told her. "Am not. We both know you're a worse liar than I am, and—it's not my fault you were sucking so hard I almost came."

"What did you expect when you shoved your tits in my face first thing in the morning?"

Karina rolls her eyes, because it's all so ridiculous how she's acting like this is all your fault—when it's exactly what she should expect.

"That doesn't mean you had to spend like a fucking hour sucking them for—let me up, I have to get ready, you goddamn animal."

"Animal? You could have stopped me anytime. Don’t put this on me."

"Not with that fucking mouth I couldn't. Look, I can take care of you the second I get back, I just need to—"

It's not like Karina doesn't notice your frustration, that adorable pout across your face, looking almost offended that she would try to deny you of anything. But she's having far more trouble resisting, especially when you look so needy and pathetic like this.

“How long do you have? You can't leave without me making you cum."

"Fuck, I don't know, not that long—maybe twenty minutes,” she says, not even sure of the estimate herself.

"Perfect. That's plenty of time."

"It's not. I need to shower, get dressed, eat something. Let me go, you crazy fucking perv."

"You don't need to shower, you smell amazing."

Karina scoffs. "You're just used to me like this. Which is why I need a goddamn shower."

"Then I'll just fuck you in the shower. Save us time," you counter, but all Karina can do is groan, face-palming from how impatient and stubborn you are.

She pushes herself up on her elbows, shaking her head so dramatically. "Jesus, you're not letting this go, are you? Am I gonna have to tie you up again?"

"Is that a promise?"

And somehow, you've managed to break through her resolve. Karina can't stop laughing, face in the crook of your neck, giggling so cutely. "You're fucking unbelievable. When was the last time I wasn't late for something?"

"Dunno. Does it matter?"

"Fine. Okay. Fine—I suppose the shower isn't a bad idea. Maybe it'll cool you off a bit."

"Don't count on it."

The two of you hurry into the bathroom—and perhaps a better word would be fumbled, given how reluctant you are to take your hands off her for too long. But once the hot water starts raining down from above, there's no stopping what's about to take place.

You're drawn in by everything you love about Karina, embracing her from behind, and you find yourself staring shamelessly at her beautiful features, dripping wet. She looks utterly gorgeous without even trying, hair matted to her forehead, water running down her body to just accentuate each and every curve.

"Sweetheart—" she starts, interrupted quickly when you pull her close, pressing a kiss against the soft skin of her neck. "A quick fuck. That's it. You don't have permission for anything else."

You don't answer with anything but your hands on her hips that she rolls against you, letting out a breathy sigh at how your cock nudges between her cheeks while she places her hands against the steamy glass of the shower door.

Then Karina lets out the prettiest moan when you're back inside her warmth again.

Your fingers dig into her curvy hips while you pump, and she spreads her legs as the perfect invitation to ease yourself deeper into her heat, walls fluttering against your shaft, tits pressed up against the cold glass.

"God, fuck,” Karina cries out. “That’s it, fucking split me open, fuck me like you were begging a few moments ago.”

Before you can even meet her demands, she pushes her hips against you to get things moving. And it's always a pleasure being ordered around by her, especially when it means your cock gets to be so impossibly deep, burying every single inch in that smothering heat.

There's no slow, easy thrusts, no warning before she's rewarded with a quick slam of your hips. Her entire body shudders at the sensation, nails dragging down the slippery glass of the shower wall as she braces herself.

"So—it's all my fault?" you growl between thrusts, hips picking up speed, getting a tighter grasp on her body for some needed leverage that has you wetly slamming right in, making the most of every single inch.

"Absolutely. Mm, ah, fuck, this is your doing—don't you dare hold back. Keep going, keep fucking going, harder—fuck, do your duty and make me cum on that thick fucking cock."

Every deep thrust forces her further against the glass while you oblige, tits so helplessly pressed up so deliciously as you thrust like your life depends on it, keeping her pinned underneath, ass rippling as you pump in and out with each harsh movement. The hot water beating down on you only adds to the frantic, lewd sounds of your bodies crashing against one another, wet skin on wet skin, every moan amplified.

"There, just like that, sweetie. So good, love when you fuck me deep, fucking destroy me," Karina moans out, legs wobbling as they almost buckle from how roughly you plunge into her, limits already being tested. She sounds so beautiful, so blissed out when she claws at the glass, body unable to withstand your punishing thrusts, like there’s nothing left but succumbing to your cock.

"A-almost there, sweetie, oh my god don't fucking stop, fuck!" Karina lets out these careless moans, no regards for how loud she's being. Even the neighbors will hear—and she doesn't even fucking care, as long as you don't stop. She's far, far too lost in this, throwing her head back, screams escalating through the echoing walls of the shower. "Gonna cum, shit, I'm gonna fucking cum, sweetie, fucking make me—"

This sudden vice tightening around you is all you need to ensure Karina gets exactly what she demands as she trembles in your grip, falling apart. Another shriek echoes from her throat, clenching violently when her climax triggers, palms flat against the rattling glass, your hips so frantic as they slam against her, driving a few more quick, deep thrusts for good measure.

You can hear it all—and most importantly feel it, the erratic, uncontrolled way she shudders, the convulsing walls of her warm cunt proof you've done a job well done. So you keep pistoning into her, keep up the brutal pace of your hips, not slowing down or do anything but pound right through this blissful release,

"God, baby—“ Karina gasps out, weak and breathless, clinging onto the glass to not slump forward, already spent by her release, and yet her body can't even help itself when she grinds back, craving even more. “How, how do you keep doing that, making me cum so hard? Such a good fucking boy, keeping me so satisfied.”

There’s not much of an answer for that as Karina keeps her body flush against the glass, struggling to recover her breath while you thrust so deep. "But as much as I love your cock in me, I think we're running out of time…”

"Are we?"

"Yeah, so you better wrap this up and fill me. Right now, grab my fucking tits and empty those balls.”

You don't have it within you to hesitate, grabbing those heavy breasts, squeezing them tightly. Nothing beats this combination: all that supple flesh in your fingertips while your throbbing cock pummels the deepest depths of her, every inch inside her velvety cunt. Then all that’s left is to fuck her like your life depends on it, not a thought left but drilling with reckless abandon.

There’s nothing but your hips moving, the harsh slap of flesh, this greedy grope you give her chest like you just can’t get enough—which you can’t. You’ve got her pinned so hard against the shower, holding on to her tits as you just fuck her senseless, completely pounding into her cunt, keeping her stretched, using this perfect body to milk your cock.

“Rina, god—baby, your pussy, oh, fuck, I can't—I'm gonna cum," you groan, losing all control over yourself, barely able to give any warning. Not that Karina needs it when she can feel you throbbing, how much you’re going to erupt.

It doesn't take a second longer for Karina to get what she wants.

You fall apart and erupt into her, slamming one more time to bury yourself to the hilt as you empty inside her in thick, heavy bursts, each spurt more dizzying than the last. Karina clenches so harshly when you fill her to the brim, this heavenly squeeze when she greedily takes everything, milking it all out, demanding not a drop gets wasted. Everything leaves your balls in an urgent rush, right into her sopping cunt, sending her right over the edge one last time as she joins you in this blissful release.

“Filled me up so well, sweetie,” Karina murmurs through the bliss, every violent throb pushing her up against the glass window, pinned and helpless against the rough pounding of your thrusts until your hips decide to falter. “Now that you got everything out of your system, do you think you'll be able to survive the rest of the day?"

You only play with her tits in response, catching your breath as you lean against her body, kissing her shoulders from behind. "Probably not. But I'll manage, somehow. I guess."

She laughs softly at the admission, a quick tilt of her head to kiss you while you reluctantly withdraw your drenched cock , the mess leaking out from her freshly pounded, slick hole. As always, this is your favorite sight—all the white leaking from between her thighs and down to the shower tiles. But you know there's not enough time to appreciate this glorious view, because you'll never hear the end of it if you're responsible for making her late.

"If you really can't manage, you have all those pictures I’ve sent to tide you over. Jerk off on my panties if you need to, I don’t mind. Whatever helps you get by."

"Have a little more faith in me, would you? I'm not so far gone yet that I can't control myself for a little while. I'll survive."

"Could have fooled me," Karina responds as she exits the steamy shower, stepping onto the cool bathroom tile and reaching for her towel. “But maybe if I’m feeling generous, you’ll get some spicy new photos before I come back. If you behave, that is."

"Don't I always?"

"Hardly, sweetie." Karina wraps her arms around your neck, leaning into you and smiling adoringly. "But that's what I like about you."

"Couldn't live without me, could you?"

"Absolutely not. Or your cock," she teases back at you, giving your hair this playful little tousle while she pulls you in for a deep, lasting kiss. And the way Karina looks in just a towel—well, you try not to think too much about it.

"Okay, seriously. I need to get going now, or else I really will miss class. But maybe when I'm back—"

"Yeah?"

Karina cups your face and just stares for a moment, in deep thought, contemplating a thousand ideas. "I really am going to ride the fuck out of you. Maybe even tie you up again and make you beg like you never have before.”

"Can't wait."

"Neither can I, sweetie. See you soon."

#karina smut #aespa smut #kpop smut #reader insert #girl group smut #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #karina x reader #male reader

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fitnessmentor · 2 years ago

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Unlocking the Power of Leg Exercises: A Guide

Legs exercises that are better than the back squat? Is it possible?

If you have small legs and think the only way to grow them is by squatting heavy, then you need to rethink your approach.

Troy Adashun explains how he switched up his leg training and managed to achieve impressive strength and muscle gains without using the barbell back squat.

He argues that there are many other lower body exercises that are better when it comes to hypertrophy of the lower body.

“I wanted to make this video because, contrary to popular belief, you don’t need to squat heavy weights to grow your legs. Today’s leg workout for growth will contain no barbell squats whatsoever.”

“When I started lifting, I thought squatting as heavy as I could was the best way to get bigger legs, but it turns out I was training more for strength than hypertrophy. Try this leg workout for bigger legs and feel the difference in the rep ranges, pacing of each rep, and overall exercise selection.”

“These leg exercises will blow up your legs in a short and intense workout. I call this type of training the balloon method, and it’s how I train to grow any muscle.”

Exercises that are Better than the Squat for Lower Body Muscle Gain

Legs Exercises that are Better: Dumbbell Bulgarian Split SquatProbably one of the most painful and effective leg exercises that exists.

Go nice and deep, and don’t cheat the movement.

You will feel this all the way from your glutes to your quads.

Stick to a 10- to 12-rep range for maximum muscle growth gains.

Keep the knees over the toes and overload each leg, one leg at a time. To make the exercise even harder, try paused reps. Hold the bottom position for at least 3 seconds to maximize time under tension.

Legs Exercises that are Better: Dumbbell Walking Lunges Super Set with Hands Over the Head Walking Lunges

This will further fatigue the legs in a functional and challenging way.

Again, the superset will extend the time under tension, which will result in more muscle growth.

Growth Tip: Add bodyweight versions of each exercise as a super set.

Legs Exercises that are Better: Dumbbell Sumo Squats

This is an excellent alternative if you are experiencing any lower back issues or are recovering from an injury.

It is impossible to load as heavy as you would for a back squat, and it forces you to keep your core and spine upright and tight.

You can choose to perform this with an elevated heel if you find ankle mobility an issue. Simply place your heels on a weight or bumper plate.

Make sure to squeeze at the top and concentrate on the mind muscle connection.

Legs Exercises that are Better: Leg Extensions Super Set with Dumbbell Romanian Deadlift

Go for 3 sets of 12 reps of both exercises. The RDLs must be performed immediately after completing the leg extensions.

Form Tip: Point your toes out slightly and squeeze your quads as tightly as possible at the top of the movement.

Troy Adashun believes that the following equation, performed within the right rep ranges, is a great principle for leg growth: “Intensity + Consistency = growth.”

TIME-STAMPS FOR VIDEO:

00:00 Why Squats are killing your gains

00:15 The truth about chicken legs

00:50 The perfect leg workout for fast growth

01:50 One of the most painful leg exercises you can do (but it works!)

03:00 DB walking lunges superset for growth

04:45 Great barbell squat alternative

05:20 Great superset for quads and hamstrings

As a final disclaimer, Troy states that consistent back squatting in the 10 – 12 rep range is a phenomenal way to grow your legs. However, he bebelieves that or beginner athletes this runs in parallel with a higher risk of injury than many of the other exercises that he included in his video.

Muscles of the legs

Your legs are full of lots of muscles that control movement in different ways. Some help you walk, while others help you run or jump. The quadriceps are located at the front of your thigh, while the hamstrings are located on the back side. Both groups of muscles work together to provide power and stability when you’re moving around.

Quadriceps (Quads)

The quads are the muscles that make up your thighs. They extend or bend your knees and straighten your hips. The quadriceps consists of four individual muscles: vastus lateralis, rectus femoris, vastus medialis, and vastus intermedius.

Vastus Lateralis

The Vastus Lateralis is one of your quadriceps muscles. It’s located on the outer side of your thigh, and it helps you extend your leg. The Rvastus lateralis is a large muscle that can be strengthened with exercises such as lunges and squats.

The vastus lateralis is located on the outer side of your thigh.

The vastus lateralis is located on the outer side of your thigh. The muscle extends from the middle of your knee to the top of your patella (knee cap), and it lies underneath a layer of fat.

The vastus lateralis is one of four large muscles making up the quadriceps group in your leg: rectus femoris, vastus medialis, and vastus intermedius are its three counterparts. A small portion of each has an anterior attachment point at your pelvis called an iliotibial band or ITB (pronounced I-T-B). This band helps stabilize and support these muscles as they bend your knee forward or back during exercise or daily activities like walking up stairs or climbing into bed after a long day at work.

Rectus Femoris

The rectus femoris is a quadriceps muscle. It makes up one-quarter of your thigh muscle and originates at your pelvis and inserts at the tibia and patella. This segmented muscle is responsible for flexing your knee joint, which helps you move forward when running or walking uphill.

ectus femoris also helps to stabilize your hip as you perform other movements that involve twisting or bending in different directions (for example, kicking a ball).

The rectus femoris runs down the center of your thigh.

The rectus femoris is one of the quadriceps muscles, located on the front of your thigh. This muscle runs down the center of your thigh from your hip to your knee, attaching to the patella (knee cap) in its final few inches.

This muscle is responsible for extending (straightening) and flexing (bending) the knee joint, which allows you to move forward and back in walking motions, as well as turn and twist when running.

Vastus Medialis

The vastus medialis is a muscle located on the inner side of your thigh. It attaches to your knee cap and helps you extend and flex your legs. It also helps you flex your knees by turning inwards. The vastus medialis can help prevent injuries like ACL tears because it is used to stabilize the knee joint during movement.

The vastus medialis is located on the inner side of your thigh. It attaches to your knee cap.

The vastus medialis is located on the inner side of your thigh. It attaches to your knee cap, and helps straighten your leg.

Vastus Intermedius

Vastus intermedius is located underneath the rectus femoris and extends from your hip to your knee. It attaches to your knee cap, which helps it extend and flex legs, as well as flex knees.

The vastus intermedius is located underneath the rectus femoris and extends from your hip to your knee.

The vastus intermedius is located underneath the rectus femoris and extends from your hip to your knee. It is a quadriceps muscle, which means that it helps flex your knee.

Hamstrings

The hamstrings are located on the back of your thighs. These muscles help you extend and flex your legs. They also work with your quadriceps to flex or bend your knees, as well as help prevent injuries such as ACL tears.

If you’re an athlete who needs to increase speed, stability or power, having strong hamstrings is beneficial. For example: if you’re playing football (American or otherwise), having strong hamstrings will allow you to make sharper turns when running downfield because they help keep your body upright while sprinting instead of letting it fall forward when turning left or right at high speeds like it might otherwise do so easily without strong hamstrings supporting them!

Your legs are full of lots of muscles that control movement in different ways

Your legs are full of lots of muscles that control movement in different ways. The quadriceps and hamstrings are the main muscles on the front and back of your thigh, respectively. The vastus medialis is on the inside of your leg. Abductor muscles (the gluteus medius and minimus) support hip motion while adductor muscles (adductor longus, brevis and magnus) squeeze in from each side to hold things together!

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lauraneedstochill · 23 days ago

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silence my storm

pairing: Jack Abbot x resident!reader summary: Abbot falls harder for you without even noticing, but he struggles to apologize for what he said. He might lose you before he finds the right words. part 2 of Can’t pretend

warnings: rivals to <friends> to lovers, slow burn, implied age gap (you can ignore it) / descriptions of war; mentions of dr*gs, horrible parenting and losing loved ones, dealing with PTSD and panic attacks / PITTFEST (mass shooting, blood and injuries), ANGST. but there’s a silver lining! ♡ / words: 9.5K / author’s note: I imagine Danny Glover as Donny because that man would def talk some sense into Jack ♡ this part is intense so buckle up! / {you also can read it on AO3}

As long as Abbot can remember, he always managed to stand out. He was unruly as a kid, flouting authority and speaking out against injustice. He got teased for his skin sprinkled with freckles, for curls that turned auburn in the sun; he was hated for his inability to yield. The same attitude got him into the army, the same relentlessness helped him push through the combat training — in ten weeks some men were broken and remolded to fit in; but not Jack. He was resilient and fast and competent — with first aid, hand grenades, and rifles, during the obstacle course and field exercises; he joked that it felt like a summer camp. It also felt like the perfect place for him, and the medic training only strengthened his resolve. He didn’t seek attention but he attracted people with his biting humour and his never-fading perseverance. And he believed he could withstand it all.

Then he got deployed to hotspots, to places where the earth under his feet was scorched by blasts, heat dizzying, pulse throbbing in his head. And he watched as the villages were flattened to the ground, vehicles made of steel reduced to wrecks, and half of the things he’d learned before were proven useless. It left him hardened but it didn’t break him. Because somehow Jack always knew the way and the right words, because if he could save a life a day, it was all worth it.

But then came the war zones, and those weren’t about saving as much as they were about survival: on battlefields, in trenches, on desert wastelands that stretched on for miles, sand swirling in the air, legs heavy with fatigue, skin slick with sweat. And death tore people limb from limb, never a negotiator but a butcher, only allowing Jack to dig more graves. Those years flayed him of his assurance and his ardor, and he was knocked down, beaten, maimed, his body scarred and heart shattered, the damage that seemed irreparable, pain that left so many soldiers hopeless. But Jack got right back up.

And he got rougher at the edges and he talked less, but he decided to give life another chance. Jack studied with the same diligence and he threw himself into his work, as persevering as before, as tough as ever. The patients found his stoic demeanor calming, and other doctors respected him for cutting to the chase and thinking quickly. And undeniably, there is some comfort in being the one people can rely on, a beacon that guides through the darkest nights.

But you make Jack feel like he is invisible. And that’s a first.

It would make sense for you to glare in his direction, to let hostility cut through your tone when he’s around. You do none of that. On Monday, when Robby finally comes back — sunglasses tucked in his hoodie pocket, a giant cup of coffee in his hand, a smile so big his cheeks must hurt — you rush in barely a minute after and greet him, quite warmly. You say nothing to Jack although he’s standing right there next to him. Jack stops himself from following you with his gaze and listens to your retreating footsteps. It’s Dana who is glaring at him.

Robby is yet to notice it, his eyes on the board. “I see, the house is packed as always. How’s everyone been doing?”

“Peachy,” Dana deadpans, then moves a medical tablet to him with one hand. “Enjoy.”

His smile wavers at her tone, his gaze darting from her to Jack. “And how is our new senior resident?”

Abbot doesn’t meet his eyes. “Good.”

“Okay, what’s with the one-word answers?”

Princess rolls her chair closer with a smirk: “She’s very good.” Robby groans and she huffs. “What? It was more than one word! Everyone’s so cranky post-COVID.”

“First of all, my test came back negative so it was not COVID. And I do not appreciate you guys trying to ruin my mood this early in the morning,” Robby remarks although he doesn’t sound offended.

But his gaze wanders back to Jack as if he can read something from his reticence, as if he had suspicions before he even came through the doors. “Dr. Abbot, why don’t you tell me about the patients admitted overnight?” Robby suggests nonchalantly. “Come on, let’s take a walk. I’ve heard it’s good for health.”

Jack’s thinking of an excuse to stay. But then he sees you coming back, fresh scrubs on and face focused, and he almost turns around after you, he almost calls out your name. He has to reason with himself: it shouldn’t be a public conversation, you’d never want it to be. And he is yet to find the words for his regret. So he complies with Robby.

They step away, and Jack looks down at the screen, a colored spreadsheet with names and traumas. Robby cautiously looks around. And then he asks:

“So, back to the new resident. Are you getting along?”

Jack accidentally walks into a gurney someone left behind, curses under his breath and forces out: “Like I said, everything’s good.”

Robby hums, hardly convinced and clearly concerned. But not surprised. “You know what I’ve been thinking of recently?”

“I’m sure you are about to tell me.”

“You coming to work here. Remember your first few weeks?”

Those weren’t easy — not to live through, not to reminiscent of. Jack can recall some bland moments and hollow dialogues, a lot of pitying glances given to him. He had to bury his wife six months prior to that.

“I know I wasn’t a ray of sunshine—”

“You were kinda insufferable,” but Robby’s brown eyes are filled with sympathy as he says that. “I mean, obviously no one blamed you. I can only imagine how hard it was in the beginning.”

A crease settles in between Jack’s brows. “And you are reminding me of it why exactly?”

Robby stops, his hand landing on Jack’s shoulder. “Listen, we all adapt to new environment at our own pace. It’s easier for some people but for others, it can take time. And we, as the attendings, should give them that time and not take anything personally or rush to conclusions. If someone isn’t an open book, it may mean they have reasons to keep things to themselves.”

Jack only gives him a confused nod; although the words make sense to him, he can’t grasp their full meaning. “Okay?”

“Glad we are on the same page,” Robby gives him a pat and swiftly turns around.

“What about the patients?”

“Oh, I skimmed through the list, I’ll look up the rest if I need to. Go get some sleep.”

And Jack surely needs it. But Robby’s words stay on his mind, and the incomprehension bugs him, so much so that he comes back to the nurse station. Dana ignores him, loudly tapping on the same one key. He leans to her, lowering his voice:

“Was I insufferable when I first started here?”

“Why the past tense? You aren’t any better now,” she quips dryly.

He can’t hold back a heavy sigh, and when Dana casts a glance at him, he is equally tired and contrite. She grants him some reassurance, albeit begrudgingly.

“You were fine, Jack. All things considered. We knew you’ve been through some tough times. But you are a damn good doctor, and that’s all that matters,” she looks back at the computer. “Although you did scare half of our staff with your silent staring and your tactical knife. Please tell me you don’t have that thing with you.”

“I will refrain from answering that,” Jack straightens up, and her short chuckle gives him hope.

If only approaching you was just as simple.

It’s not that Jack cannot admit that he was in the wrong. Taking accountability for your mistakes helps you to learn from them, his therapist once told him, and words can hurt as much as they can heal. Jack’s had his fair share of hard conversations and harsh truths, and he would never shy away from either. But when he thinks of your heartbroken gaze, his usual equanimity escapes him, and no apology seems good enough to make up for his outburst. Still, he owes it to you to try.

Jack hopes to seize the moment before his night shift, he spends the day gluing together a small speech: he was unfair, he was wrong, he’s sorry. His gaze finds you as soon as he steps into the ER — a habit he doesn’t know how to get out of (nor does he want to). It’s almost laughable how hard it is for him to summon up the courage, it feels like every step to you takes twice as long. He is about to say it — Hey, can we please talk — but you breeze on by him, and then it is too late. Jack persuades himself the timing wasn’t right: he doesn’t want to distract you from your work, he’ll wait until you get a couple of free minutes.

You do not spare him even a second of your time.

It doesn’t seem unfounded: you are busy with patients, you help the nurses with case files, you keep an eye on Whitaker, and offer guidance to anyone who asks for it. Jack’s persuasion wavers but he clings to it, he is dead set on fixing things, he’s never been a quitter.

But your determination is a match for his — and you are awfully proficient at silent treatment.

One day of Jack’s futile attempts bleeds into two, then three, then a full week. And every time you walk past him like he doesn’t exist, like bones and tissues he is made of turned to dust. It should be a relief that you don’t make a scene; instead, your coldness wounds him, a deep incision somewhere at his ribs. And Jack is torn — he wants to put more effort in, he is afraid of taking it too far: it will not help his case if he ruins your lunch break or creeps up on you at the locker room. And it will make him reek of desperation.

But the uncertainty starts gnawing on him, a new bite with each day he fails. The short apology he crafted loops through his mind non-stop — until it sounds like a useless jumble of words, until Jack isn’t even sure him talking to you will not make things worse. You come and leave on time, you offer him no mercy, you master your avoidance as if he is a plague. And Jack is plagued with agitation, and by the third week he is already losing sleep: if he wasn’t desperate before, now he sure as hell is.

Jack checks his phone again because he keeps mixing up the days: it’s Tuesday, he came an hour early and hasn’t seen you yet. He pootles to the vending machine to give coffee another chance to wake him — and suddenly catches a familiar voice.

“Darling, I truly do not want to be a bother, but I have a friend here and I was wondering if you can —”

“Donny?”

It’s been a few years but he hasn’t changed one bit — six feet tall, gaze sharp but eyes warm, russet brown, short grey hair that looks silver against his dark skin, a charming half-smile. He’s also got a huge bruise on his forehead, and there’s a wheelchair he’s ignoring, leaning on the table with one arm.

Princess grins at the man and nods at Jack. “This is the friend?”

“No, this is my biggest pain in the ass,” Donny retorts but his smile grows bigger.

Jack smiles back and walks to him. “Of course, you can’t live out your retirement in peace. Did you head the ball again, sergeant?”

“You’re just jealous 'cause you suck at basketball,” Donny unceremoniously hugs him. But his poise falters slightly when Jack looks closer at his injury. “Apparently, I need a head CT. I keep telling 'em it’s no big deal —”

Jack shakes his head, silently tapping on the chair — Donny rolls his eyes and sits down without protest. “Page me when radiology is ready to take him,” Abbot tells Princess, then smoothly wheels Donny away. “Let’s get you comfortable in the meantime.”

“Do I get a cute nurse?” Donny curiously glances around. “Who can you page to sneak me a Margarita in here?”

“You get me and a cup of ice you can munch on.”

“Jesus, you do know how to kill the buzz.”

“This is me giving you preferential treatment.”

“Aw, you are honoring our unshakable camaraderie? Or have you gotten softer with age, Abbot?”

“It’s neither, but if you die on my watch, Martha will skin me alive.”

“Actually, she’d probably drink to it — we divorced last year.”

“Good for her.”

Donny snorts with laughter, boisterous and unapologetic, slapping Jack’s hand wrapped around the handle. He is about to talk back but then someone catches his attention — Donny turns his head, and his voice turns mellow:

“Oh, here you are, my angel! I was looking for you. Should’ve known the best doctors are the busiest.”

Jack pulls up short — not in reaction to Donny’s words but at the sight of you, standing a few feet away and looking right in his direction. And then the strangest thing happens — a miracle like an oasis in a desert, like a flower blooming in the dead of winter: you smile.

Jack’s breathing hitches.

And he watches like you a blind man who’s seeing sunrise for the first time in his life. It’s faint but undeniably sincere — joy dancing at the corners of your lips as you come near, your gaze kind when you talk to Donny. “Haven’t I told you to take it easy?”

“You know I can’t sit still, I like doing things. I’ll rest when I’m in the grave.”

“And I’d rather it happen later than sooner,” the words are stern but your voice is gentle, caring — something Jack suddenly wishes to deserve too. But you talk to Donny as if there’s just the two of you. “What was it this time?”

“That atrocious painting! I swear Martha superglued that thing to the wall. I spent an hour trying to tear it off, had to go grab a ladder. And I don’t know, maybe I slipped on the puddle of my own sweat,” he grumbles, a tad bit embarrassed. “And now I’m waiting for you guys to stuff me inside that noisy metal barrel. I better not get stuck in that thing.”

“You’ll fit just fine,” you say simply, gaze grazing his head: nothing too alarming for you to stare at. “You can close your eyes and pretend that you’re on a beach. Somewhere in Santa Monica, just like last summer.”

“Yeah, minus the imminent bump on my head,” he cackles. “Do you get lunch breaks in here? Will you come talk to me when you have a minute?”

“I’ll find you after you get a CT,” you promise — and then brush his shoulder with a quiet remark: “You are in good hands.”

And Jack can’t help another glance at you but you already round the corner to disappear somewhere in the hall. So he keeps his face straight and finds Donny a bed, then helps him sit against the pillows.

“You fell off a ladder? Should’ve mentioned it,” Jack takes the tablet and pulls up his medical records.

Donny squints at him. “Hmm, that’s weird. Man, what is this feeling...”

“What, does your head hurt? Vision getting blurry or —”

“It’s the tension between you two!” Donny hisses. “Why were you so awkward around her?”

Jack opens his mouth; then closes it, unsure. He’d love to know how you and Donny met but he doesn’t want to snoop around. His eyes are on the screen, his tone flat:

“Your angel, huh?”

“Oh, I’m sorry I don’t have a cute name for you. Your grumpy face doesn’t exactly call for it.”

“Luckily this face comes with a smart head and steady hands. That’s what you’d want from a doctor.”

“Well, aren’t you a modest one,” Donny doesn’t sound amused. “Now stop deflecting and tell me what’s going on. Were you hard on her, is that it?”

Jack wants to say yes. He was insensitive, he was an idiot, and now you’re giving him a cold shoulder, and it’s been driving him insane. But whining will not make things better. And Donny’s wisdom and support should be offered to you, not Jack.

Donny gives him a level stare. “Listen, I know seventy-eight doesn’t exactly instill fear. But I still can pack a hefty punch. And I swear I’ll punch you if you aren’t treating her right,” — and he immediately relents, his words in between a plea and a request. “Man, I’m serious. Go easy on her, the girl’s been through hell.”

“Haven’t we all?” Jack mumbles.

There is no bitterness and no harbored resentment — it’s just how life has been for Jack. And Donny is aware of that so he isn’t judging. He thinks over what he is about to say. Jack reads his file: irregular pulse, complaints of fatigue, some swelling of the legs.

“You know I’m not the one to sugarcoat all the crap we’ve been through,” Donny tells him bluntly, and it’s the truth. “When I hear random folks raving about their picture-perfect military days, I always call them out on their bullshit. But if there’s one thing I am grateful for, it’s the people. My closest friends are from the army and none are finer,” Donny holds a pause, like he is climbing over an imaginary fence, into an imaginary vault your secret’s hidden in — but not anymore. “Her brother was in the army too.”

Jack stops reading. He hesitates because he realizes right away that this is personal, this isn’t a story meant for just anybody to know. But then again, he knows nothing about you. How bad can this one story be? He looks up, and Donny continues.

“He was definitely one of the good ones. Damn, Sammy was a gem, such an enthusiastic kid. We served in Syria, and it was a shitstorm — well, you know what it’s like — but I can’t remember him complaining once. Good morals, quick reaction, awesome shooter.”

A happy ending is unlikely so Jack calculates the options: killed in combat or crossfire, body delivered in a sealed coffin. Or maybe never found, left somewhere in a foreign land, bones crumbling into dirt, a ghost that haunts his family for years.

“He got sent off to Kabul, a lot of snipers did. Back when Bush thought Al-Qaeda just ambles out in the open, waiting for the brave americans to show up and shoot everyone dead.”

“So, shitty planning?” Jack guesses.

“More like no planning. They got stranded in the mountains, Sammy and his squad. Lost contact with the base, half of them massacred within a week. He dodged a lot of bullets but he took a nasty fall — arm twisted backward, pulled his shoulder out of its socket.”

Jack instinctively grimaces. “That’s 11 out of 10 on the pain scale.”

“He gave it a 100. They were out of meds, completely lost, he was in and out of consciousness. Then, by sheer fucking luck, they found some tiny village, and one of the locals sheltered them. He was no doctor, and I’m sure he meant well... He suggested opium for the pain. The guys agreed.”

Abbot thinks he’d rather step on a landmine again. Any death in combat is a tragedy, but at least it’s quick. Addiction kills you slowly.

“They popped his shoulder back into place but the pain lingered,” — and Jack imagines torn ligaments and damaged blood vessels, the bruising changing color from red to blue. “It was hard to wear a backpack, hard to sleep at night.”

Abbot deduces grimly: “He needed more opium.”

“And he came back an addict,” Donny nods. “It wasn’t just opium, it never is. But Sammy did try to get better, I’ll give him that. Two years in support groups, in therapy, going from one rehab to another. And she would always follow him around, pay him visits, send him letters. She refused to give up on him, and he loved her to pieces, and we all wanted for him to get a grip… I wish I could tell you why he never did. He just kept falling off the wagon, and eventually, he ran out of money. So he borrowed some — from the people you should never be in debt to. And when he didn’t pay in time, they thought: what’s a better bargaining chip than his dear sister?”

Jack wishes he could go back in time and tell Donny he doesn’t want to hear this story. Heavy, hot rage already simmers in him — at the mere thought of someone hurting you; it also pains him deeply.

“They roughed her up, pretty badly. And one of them got out a gun — on trial, they insisted they didn’t mean to fire it, they just wanted to scare Sammy so he’d pay. The guy aimed at her but then a fight broke out, and someone pulled the trigger. Sammy pushed her away at the last second. The bullet went right through his heart. He probably died before those fuckers even managed to escape. When the cops arrived, they had to drag her away from his dead body. She was fifteen.”

Jack wants to bang his head against the wall.

And he thinks of you freezing at the doors, of how your gaze didn’t meet his when you were wiping off his blood, of your strained voice. And you weren’t reckless, weren’t prideful or condescending. You were afraid he might get hurt trying to keep you out of harm’s way. Because it happened to you once before, because it tore your heart in half. And his words made you relive that.

“It’s hard to bounce back after that. I don’t know how she did. Not with her parents' help, that’s for sure.”

Jack clears his throat; his voice is marked by sadness. “They aren’t very close?”

“I still can’t believe they are related,” Donny rants. “I’ve heard that money ruins people but her parents set a new low. Couldn’t say a single good word about their own son at his funeral. Didn’t care to console their daughter. They were ready to fuck off as soon as the priest gave his speech but she didn’t want to go. And they just left her at the cemetery, can you imagine? I was the one to give her a ride home. And I swear, at some point that evening I contemplated murder.”

And he doesn’t say the exact words, but Jack reads between the lines: you’ve got no other family. You had to grow up having no one to rely on.

“They wanted her to get a banking job. Said she shouldn’t spend her life digging into someone’s guts, it is not very lady-like. But she studied day and night, managed to get a scholarship — hell, I didn’t even know they offered those in med schools. The day after she got into residency, she cut ties with her parents. Haven’t spoken to them since. And I guess the silver lining is that she did become a good doctor, despite it all.”

Abbot gets paged to radiology. But his thoughts are far away — in his childhood home, at the dining table in the kitchen: here’s his mother with her contagious laughter, his father with the deep voice and crude jokes, the comfort of a family meal and sharing conversations. There were arguments too, even fights — his dad and he were too alike to compromise sometimes. But he knew that his parents would have his back, and they always did. Not getting that support as a child sounds hard, harrowing. You must’ve been very lonely.

Donny studies him for a moment. “So are you gonna tell me what you did or should I start throwing punches?”

After all the truth he’s just learned, it feels wrong to lie. “I... I did go hard on her. But I will apologize,” Jack says firmly and faithfully, like a vow. And he can’t help but admit: “You are right, she really is great.”

Donny can’t resist a chortle. “I’m always right. You should know by now.”

His CT comes clean but he does reluctantly complain of headache. Jack figures it’s a mild concussion and lists the basics: take paracetamol for the pain, rest for a week, no physical activity. No alcohol.

“Not even a splash of whiskey? Not even a tiny —” Donny reads no from Jack’s unblinking stare. “You are no fun, Abbot. Like, at all.”

“Your liver will thank me.”

“My liver is attached to me, and right now I’m not feeling very grateful,” but Donny isn’t aggrieved either because he swiftly adds: “Where’s that cup of ice I was promised?”

The walk to the ice machine and back takes Jack about five minutes. He hears your voice first — and he can tell you’re smiling just from the sound of it. Jack sees you from afar and gets his hunch confirmed: Donny is scrolling on his phone to show you something, his face expressions eliciting a laugh from you, genuine and carefree. And when you are like this — not wearing your usual defense, not rushing anywhere, not weighted down by every bad thing you had to live through — there’s so much light in you, Jack finds it hard to look away. Warmth threads through him, quiet and calming, and he can’t stop looking.

And he is drawn to steal more glances at you, like would a treasure hunter carefully steal pieces of art.

Jack catches on to small things: you mindlessly tap on the corner of the chart when you’re deep in thoughts, you often bite the inside of your lower lip while you are reading, eyes darting quickly from left to right. And he wonders what your favorite books are, and if you spend your evenings cozied up under the covers in the dim light of your bedroom. But what is readable to him under the LED lamps of the ER is weariness that spills under your eyes and tugs at your limbs, your voice quieter and your pace falling off a little.

On Wednesday you have to stay an extra hour when one of the patients goes into preterm labor: it ends with her hemorrhaging, blood trickling on the floor, and Robby steps in, and everyone is loud and maybe slightly panicking. You aren’t — still steady and unwincing and knowing all the right steps, no guidance needed, no mistakes made. But then you walk out and pull the edges of your sleeves down to your fingers, as if you’re cold, as if your grit is frailing, and it makes Jack’s heart ache. He grabs a knitted blanket he has stacked deep in his locker — thick, soft, bright plaid, a handmade gift from one of the army vets he treated years ago. He leaves it at the nurse station, as if by accident. You almost miss it on your way out, but then your eyes glide over it — and you can’t help but touch it, putting your whole palm onto the fluffy wool. It’s just a speck of comfort before you back away, hands quickly tucked in the small pockets of your denim jacket.

But the next day, when Jack trudges to the ER after another failed attempt to sleep, he sees that you’re already dressed to leave — your hoodie half a size too big, your hair down and head titled as you talk to Dana, — and you are holding to the blanket with your fingers, relaxed or tired enough not to fight a smile. He lingers at the doors and gazes at you for a long minute. And then he sneaks into one of the waiting rooms so your face won’t fall at the sight of him. When he comes out, you are gone, but the blanket still has some of your warmth. And he aches all over.

On Friday there’s a storm alert, and the evening comes dreary and drizzling. Jack isn’t surprised that they get a car crash victim barely ten minutes after he is in. It is a woman in her thirties — with a head injury and three broken ribs, clothes wet with rain and blood, her vitals weak. But somehow her daughter is intact, and she’s brought in by one of the paramedics: six years of age, tight curls and a tiara on her head, poofy dress that’s sky-blue and sparkling. And she can’t stop crying.

People are drawn to help — the nurses come to offer her kind words, to bribe her into calmness with some sweets. But her sobs turn into wails, cheeks red, and body shaking, and she’s too terrified of everything to be reasoned with. And Jack is bothered by how powerless he feels, how much he wants to be of help too but has no clue where to begin. There was a time when he really wanted kids; but recollecting it feels like reopening a wound he spent years on healing.

You emerge out of the trauma room and take the gown off with one swift motion, your gaze already on the girl. But you tread carefully, slowly, waiting until she sees you coming with her teary eyes. Then you crouch down next to her.

“Why is a princess crying in our hall? You are shedding tears all over your beautiful dress,” and your fingers smooth out the layers of satin and tulle, and she glances down at your hands. You give her a small smile: “You look just like Cinderella.”

She stops mid-sob, stares at you, then at her own dress again, bright sparks of glitter caught in the blue. She manages out, sniffling: “S-she is my fav-vorite.”

“Isn’t this what she wore to the ball where she met the prince?”

The girl goes quiet, wipes her nose. She gives you a nod — and then another one, more certain. Her words come out calmer: “Like in the movie.”

“Even prettier up close,” you assure her easily and wipe off her tears with your fingertips. She’s pouting but she isn’t crying anymore. You brush away a curl that stuck to her wet cheek. “I know you must be scared but you are safe now. And our best doctors are trying very hard to make your mom feel better. You just need to hold on for a little longer,” you murmur. Her lower lip trembles yet she fights against it, small hands grabbing the sparkling fabric. Her eyes are woeful but yours are warm, as is your voice. “What is that Cinderella’s mother used to say? Something about being kind and having courage.”

She looks like she’s about to burst into fresh tears. Instead, she shakes her head with defeat, curls bouncing at the movement.

“I don’t— Don’t think I have a lot of courage.”

“It’s okay, honey. You can take some of mine,” you tell her and take her hand in yours, fingers gently massaging the skin above her wrist. Her breath is even, all of the tears dried up; and timidly, she smiles. You get up, your hand still holding hers.

“We have a room with coloring books and a teddy bear who can keep you company. And on the way there I’ll let you pick a jelly, any flavour you like. How does that sound?”

She agrees eagerly, and you breathe out a short laugh, then lead the way. And Jack’s gaze stays on you, his own breath stilled — and a thought crosses his mind before he can stop it, vivid like a falling star: you will be a great mom. And in the next second, he forces himself to look away, to push back a myriad of other thoughts suddenly sparked into existence. Because it is unreasonable, because he fucked up, because it’s wrong to even think of that.

But it doesn’t feel wrong.

He battles with himself for half an hour. The girl’s mother pulls through — Jack learns about it from Robby who goes around looking for the kid.

Dana shrugs with the utmost indifference. “I didn’t see where they went. Dr. Abbot, any chance you did?”

He knows you must be still in the waiting room, and maybe now it’s time — he’ll walk in and make apologies, away from any prying eyes. He will be genuine and repentant, he’ll take all the blame. At this point, he isn’t above begging.

“I’ll bring the girl,” Jack mutters.

His heart rate instantly speeds up as he approaches, throat dry and body stiffening, even before the room comes into view. Jack breathes in and pulls the door handle — and right at the entrance, he comes to a halt.

It’s quiet inside, and on the small uncomfortable couch stuffed in the corner, you and the girl are sitting, covered with his knitted blanket. And you are asleep. The tension in his chest evaporates as he watches you — your head pressed to the wall, your face peaceful, and he wishes for nothing more than for you to always feel like this.

Jack takes one step in, and the girl peeks out from under the blanket. She puts a finger to her mouth, then slowly gets up, the blue dress shimmering and rustling slightly as she moves. The kid confidently struts to Jack, wraps one of her hands around his, holding the teddy bear in another. She looks up at him and whispers: “How is my mom?”

“She’s alright,” Jack whispers back. “You can come see her.”

She tugs at his hand, and Jack glances at you, commits the moment to his memory, convinces himself he’ll make it quick. The girl brims with excitement but she acts polite and walks slowly. And she peppers him with questions: how many rooms are there in the hospital? Can you fix everyone who’s hurt? Can doctors wear dresses at work? Are all of them as tired as the lady who gave her the orange jelly? Jack winces at the last one. But he likes talking to the kid — it’s actually quite easy, fun, not scary at all. When they reach her mother’s room, she turns to look at him again.

“This is Mister Courageous. You can take him,” she gives him the plushie, the bear’s paw pressed into Jack’s palm. The girl beams at him mischievously, and he sees her dimples when she adds: “Maybe you need some courage too.”

But with all his courage, Jack is short on luck: when he rushes back to you, the waiting room is empty, his blanket folded and left lone on the couch. It is upsetting because tomorrow is his day off; but he comes up with a flumsy consolation: he has more time to think over what he should say, to phrase it better. So in between the patients, he mentally constructs another speech, tactful and heartfelt, no less than you deserve to get. His nerves are eased a little by the morning; he gets home and gets about five hours of uninterrupted sleep: no dreams of oceans, no nightmares filled with fog.

The afternoon is sunlit, warm against Jack’s skin when he draws back the curtains. He takes a shower and makes lunch, then does the dishes and the laundry. And he turns on the police scanner — out of boredom, out of habit, just so he’s always in the loop. His day off lasts for about ten more minutes before the PBP frequency roars to life:

Shots fired. Multiple GSW.

He grabs the walkie and turns up the volume. It’s Code 3 — and he knows its meaning from the memo: Backup requested. Proceed immediately. All available units.

Jack gets ready like’s about to go back into combat — he dresses up in under two minutes, with measured breathing, and quick steps, and cold composure. He takes out the bag he’s got packed for emergencies: a mini ultrasound, tactical crickits, tourniquets, hemostatic dressings. He thinks about going to the ER on foot because the roads will get busy in no time. But he decides against it — running the distance with his prosthetics isn’t the wisest choice: it will be a long shift, he’ll need all his strength.

So he gets the keys to his pickup truck, hurries down the stairs and into the parking lot; he slams the driver’s door shut, then his foot presses on the gas. In nine minutes Jack’s already going through the sliding doors — Robby exhales when he sees him.

“Brother, I’m so fucking glad to see you,” he gives Jack a hug, his face laden with worry.

“I heard the news on the police scanner, drove here as fast as I could.”

“Yeah, I figured. You just missed the briefing.”

“Let me guess, colored slap bands? I’m in the red zone?”

“You and me both. Go grab yourself a fancy orange vest,” Robby nods toward the table already crammed with supplies.

“How many are we expecting?”

“I don’t know but it doesn’t sound good. Pittfest must’ve been packed.”

Dana walks past them, visibly nervous and holding up the phone. When Robby looks at her, she shakes her head no.

Abbot gets alarmed. “Wasn’t Jake supposed to go there?”

“He was, I gave him my ticket a month ago so he could take his girlfriend with him. But he went down with a nasty cough, and they had to cancel plans. Apparently, it’s COVID.”

“And he definitely didn’t get it from you,” Jack chuckles.

But Robby isn’t smiling, and Dana doesn’t put the phone away, doesn’t stop calling. And there is a feeling that crawls up Jack’s spine, like winter frost crawls up a window pane:

something is off.

He takes a look around, scanning the crowd of residents and nurses, and everyone is talking in hushed voices, and many faces that he knows now wear the expressions he doesn’t like seeing: fearful, hesitant, dismayed. A few are managing alright — Mateo and McKay are reassuring Javadi, Santos is helping Mel tie a gown, going over the instructions out loud. Whitaker is standing silent, his fingers clasped together and green eyes anxious, like deer’s.

That’s when Jack realizes that you aren’t here.

“Where’s your star resident?”

Robby averts his gaze. “She u-um... Took two days off. I heard that she’s been working overtime, and I didn’t want her to burn out. Seemed like she’s been a bit stressed these days.”

Jack is stung by guilt. Because he suspects it’s not just work that got you so stressed, because he is the one at fault and —

“Whitaker said she planned on going to Pittfest.”

Robby’s words have the effect of a grenade, the air knocked out of Jack’s lungs like doors out of a building by a blast. And he’s left deafened by the shock wave: Jack can see Robby talking but no sounds reach him, drowned out by the ringing in his head. He has to focus to read Robby’s lips — he’s saying you will be alright. You’re a tough kid. You are probably helping everyone who’s injured. You are too busy to pick up the phone.

But Jack’s imagination is adept at picturing the worst: deep wounds, deadly wounds, your heart flatlining, lungs stopping, every hopeless case from the textbook. And even worse is the razor-sharp realization:

he had so many chances to tell you.

Now he may never get another one.

His throat tightens like he’s about to get sick. A nurse bumps a disaster bin into him on accident, and Jack steps aside, unsteady on his feet. He has to bandage the pieces of his composure back together, and he desperately hammers disbelief into his head: no, you might actually survive, there is a good chance that you will.

He holds on to that thought like it’s his lifeline.

Jack gets the gloves and safety glasses, stands closest to the doors, waits for the first wave of injured. And once he sees it — fresh blood, torn flesh — the autopilot finally kicks in: Jack moves like he’s on the battlefield, where time is critical and every second counts. In the ER, it does too. In the red zone, it’s 5 minutes per patient, after that — it’s OR, ICU, or morgue. So Jack gives orders and intubates and cuts into bodies, his hands busy with tubes, bandages, and blades; he fights for every life. But then he notices a gurney fully covered — the first corpse — and he goes to look under the blanket, and his hands shake, a tremor that seeps down to his bones.

And it is getting harder to shake off his fear, to act like all his thoughts aren’t consumed by you.

Unwittingly, Jack looks for hoodies and denim jackets, for your hair color, for anyone whose face resembles yours. In the second hour, two more victims die, both male; in the third, they get a dead body from a civilian’s car — a woman, headshot to the head, a quick death. And every muscle in Jack cramps up when he sees her: it’s not you but it could’ve been. Maybe they’ll bring in your corpse next.

And he can’t take a full breath.

Jack makes up an excuse to leave for just a minute. He walks into the bathroom and presses his head against the cold tile wall. He slowly counts to 60 and gets back out, chugs half a water bottle. Then he sees Robby running out of the corner of his eye. Jack gazes after him — one second, two, three, four. And then his gaze stumbles upon you.

Dark green shirt, sleeves stained with crimson, blood drained from your face. But you are standing on your feet. You are walking on your own.

You are alive.

Relief hits him so hard, he almost chokes on his emotions. The ringing slowly fades as his lungs finally gulp air, his eyes now glued to you. You bring in an old man — one of the guards, shot in the leg: you stopped the bleeding, and he is responsive. Ahmad is following you, his shirt bloodstained too, a mark one of the victims left. He doesn’t care, he keeps mumbling something to you but you weakly wave him off. Your left sleeve is bunched up at the top like there’s a bandage underneath, and your every move is slowed down like you are fighting off exhaustion. Jack’s legs carry him to you with zero hesitation.

Robby glances at him and back at the old man. “I’m taking this one. His vitals are surprisingly good.” Then he barks out at Ahmad: “Go change your shirt, you look like you got stabbed. You’ll give someone a heart attack. C’mon, now!” — and he wheels the old man away, Mel treading on his heels. A nurse groans behind them at the amount of blood splattered all over the floor.

But Jack couldn’t care less about the patients, his focus on you, his voice aching. “Are you okay? Did you get hurt?”

“I’m fine,” you tell him with your hand pressed to the wall, a little breathless, almost soft. Involuntarily so. Because of course he doesn’t deserve any of your softness. “Where’s the pink zone? I want to stick around.”

He wants to argue with you but then you meet his eyes, and your gaze is disarming, striking, and Jack is too guilt-ridden to oppose. So he concedes and points you in the right direction, then watches as your silhouette moves through the waves of white and red until you are out of sight.

Jack drinks more water and helps Mel with intubation. Whitaker passes by, maneuvering between the wheelchairs and the gurneys — he asks for extra bandages, and Robby shouts in reply that he’ll bring some. Princess asks around with irritation who the hell left bloody handprints on the wall.

“Speaking of not getting drenched in blood,” Robby comes running. “I just removed the absolute perfection of a tourniquet. Great placement, no cardiac issues, didn’t get a drop on me. Not that you can tell,” he jests tiredly and changes gowns.

“The old guard from the fest?” Jack asks absentmindedly.

“Yep. We patched him up so good, he’ll be dancing in a month.”

Whitaker’s face is suddenly splashed with incomprehension. “Wait, that can’t be right.”

Robby turns to him, one brow raised in a silent question.

“You just said the tourniquet worked well. But it’s his gurney that left a trail of blood at the entrance, I almost slipped on it,” Dennis explains.

That same feeling bites into Jack again — there’s something wrong. It’s something bad. Ahmad strides into the hall, clean shirt on, still half-unbuttoned because he’s in a rush. And he goes straight to Robby.

“Hey, man, can you reason with your resident? I ain’t no doctor but I’m pretty sure she shouldn’t be running around with a bullet in her shoulder.”

There is a lull — like one before a bomb strikes.

Then Robby roars: “She what?!”

And Jack’s already on the move, looking for you, heart in his throat, blood running cold. You never made it to the pink zone — you stagger in the hallway, holding yourself against a wall, the cotton shirt balled up in your hand. You wear a tank top, and now Jack sees it all so clearly as if he’s looking at an x-ray: your left shoulder slumped down, an entry wound right of your shoulder blade — the bullet must’ve missed the bone because there’s still some movement and you aren’t bent in pain. But dark maroon is smeared down your arm, the bandage soaked, the streaks of blood running to your wrist.

Then you sway slightly on your feet, and Jack reaches you just in time to catch you. Your eyes dip shut, and in a second you are unconscious, your body going limp and lifeless in his hands. Jack searches frantically for a pulse when he notices:

there is no exit wound.

So your shoulder is a minefield, six arteries waiting to explode on contact with the bullet — and now the count goes on for minutes. He knows that, he’s dealt with that, he should get to work. But he can’t move, swept by a wave of horror, dread filling him up like icy seawater.

Someone is yelling.

Someone is running to him.

A gurney hits the nearby wall, the metal screeching against concrete.

“Up, up, up!” McKay moves the gurney closer to him. “Why didn’t anyone check her for wounds? Does she have a pulse?”

“Yes,” Jack manages, voice hoarse, fingers unsteady on your neck. He moves them under your chin — and there is a beating, faint like a ripple on the water, enough for him to let out an exhale. “She does have a pulse.”

He picks you up and places on the gurney, one of his hands immediately slick with blood. McKay swiftly moves you through the hall with Robby running by her side, his face wracked with distress. “She didn’t say anything, she— Fuck, I should’ve asked.”

Jack is wracked with so many feelings that they are tearing him apart. He should’ve asked you too, he should’ve noticed, how could he not. How could he keep his penitence a secret for so long. The trauma room you’re wheeled into quickly fills with people — as if in some unspoken pact, it’s mostly women: Santos, Javadi, Mel; Dana is looming at the doors. Dennis peeks in from behind her back.

But in the sea of faces, Jack is only seeing you.

He registers some fragments, freeze-frame shots flashing through his mind: your body turned on one side, wound splashed with antiseptic, someone’s gloved hand gliding the transducer over. The gel mixes with blood, the clumps of it being wiped off your skin, more bandages pressed to the wound, more fluid leaking, soaking them. He knows the bleeding’s not arterial because it would’ve been much worse. It doesn’t make him feel better.

“Jack!” McKay calls out to him again; he only hears it on her third attempt. There is a rumbling outside — the thunder rolling in, a harbinger of rain.

“She’s O-neg, and we are short on blood bags. That’s your type, right?” Cassie asks louder. “Can you donate?”

“Yeah,” Jack replies distractedly. It takes a few seconds for the words to settle in. “How do you know her blood type?”

“We donated together,” Javadi hurriedly explains. “I mean, technically she was the one donating because I didn’t really— I’m kinda not a fan of needles and— Sorry, doesn’t matter. She’s O-neg.”

Jack gazes from you to Robby. “Did you locate the bullet?”

“It grazed the scapula and snuggled close to the axillary artery. No metal shards,” but the unease flickers through Robby’s concentrated face.

Because it isn’t just the arteries and bones: it’s webs of muscles, nerves and vessels — the bullet going through all that would leave a lot of damage. It can leave you in so much pain, you won’t be able to move your arm. It can put an end to your career.

The thunder claps once more. The nausea threatens to bubble up Jack’s throat again. “What caliber?”

“Pretty sure it’s a .22.”

Robby darts a glance at him, and Jack can read its meaning: a .223 bullet would’ve shattered the bone. Would’ve been lethal. A .22 is smaller, so you have better chances to recover. And Jack will get a chance to —

The monitor starts beeping as your blood pressure drops. More bandages are thrown out wet. The rain outside loudly scuds against the walls and windows.

“You sure the artery’s intact? She is still bleeding,” McKay notes, brows furrowed.

“Arterial comes in a different color,” Robby’s expression mirrors hers. He peers at the image on the screen, eyes narrowing, a moment that is unbearably too long. Then his brows shoot up. “It’s not the artery, it’s the vein.”

Your heart rate is bright before Jack’s eyes, the number inexorably increasing: 120, 124, 127, 130. Robby is aware of it too — he quickly moves the ultrasound machine away. Then puts on a new pair of gloves.

“The ORs are packed so we need to deal with this in here. Cassie, you’re with me, everyone else — get back to your patients. We will update you guys when I’m done.”

Jack’s gaze wanders back to you — your tank top cut in the middle, the fabric ruined, your shoulder marred by the open wound that will leave a lifelong scar. He only now realizes that he’s been holding to your green shirt. He grabs it tighter.

“Let’s do a direct transfusion,” he breathes out.

Robby has no arguments against it, and Dana rushes in without command. She rummages through the supply closet. “Hey cowboy, come sit.”

“I’ll stand—”

“No, you will sit. Don’t waste your time on testing my patience,” she stares him down.

Jack stalks in and takes the chair closest to you, his gaze fixed on you, his voice dull. “You can drain me.”

Dana glances at him with a huff. “I’d like to avoid that.”

She pulls his sleeve up, wipes his arm clean with antiseptic, then works fast: a cannula in, connected to the transfusion tubing, then to your vein. Then Dana gives him another look and asks more quietly: “Are you okay?”

Jack looks numbly at his blood flowing, then to the drops of yours left on the floor, harsh red against the muted blue. Robby inserts a tube into your throat. And Jack is not okay, he is very far from it. “I’m not the one on the table,” he notes despondently.

The fear stays wrapped tight around his ribcage like barbed wire.

Your arm is scrubbed with hydrogen peroxide, and Dana helps to hold it up. Your pulse is thready, and all the sounds are muted in Jack’s head, his mind clouded like the sky before the storm, the waves of agitation churning in. His gaze darts to your vitals then to the instruments — scalpels and forceps catching light, steel stained, dark crimson. He watches Robby work with bated breath: it’s dilute epinephrine irrigation to reduce the bleeding, then suture ligation to make it stop.

The red number of your heart rate is slowly going down. Jack’s nerves are tight like a taut string.

He is too overwhelmed to show any reaction when the bullet is extracted, the edges of your wound sewn, the breathing tube removed. He doesn’t notice when Evans takes the needle out and puts a band-aid on his arm. He barely feels his legs when he stands up, his eyes snag on your body being wheeled out to transfer to your room.

Jack follows you without a doubt, with no questions, in a heartbeat.

He leaves his vest at the nurse station, the reasoning he’s come up with is believable enough: his leg’s been hurting, he just needs a break. He takes the stairs and gets up to the patient’s floor right when McKay is coming out of your room. Jack snaps out of his pensiveness only when he’s sitting by your bed.

And he’s afraid to move.

He can’t concentrate on any thought, he doesn’t dare to make wishes, he’s learned not to rely on prayers. So in the silence that’s broken by the thrumming rain, he watches as your chest falls and rises with each breath. Jack balances right at the very edge of slumber, and the exhaustion is weighing on his body but he doesn’t let it up a bit. It feels like time is stretching into endless hours — in truth, it barely takes one. And then he sees your fingers twitching.

He anxiously drags his gaze — up from your hands to chest to shoulders. When he looks at your face, you are already slowly blinking, eyes on the ceiling. You let out a quiet groan — and unexpectedly, it’s followed by your voice:

“If this is about me being reckless again, I really don’t want to hear it right now.”

The hand Jack reached to you freezes midair.

You aren’t angry or annoyed, just tired — which hurts him more. All the unsaid words feel heavy on his tongue; he swallows them without a sound.

“I’m gonna call Robby,” he mumbles and quickly leaves the room.

Jack pauses when he’s outside, his heart pounding so fast he needs a minute to calm down. He takes a few deep breaths, one thought cycling through his mind like mantra: you are alive, he didn’t lose you, all his apologies can wait.

He doesn’t go back in with Robby. Instead, Jack leans against the wall next to the door and listens in on the conversation you are having. Robby holds back his discontent but you do offer him an explanation: you didn’t want to bother anyone, it didn’t seem too serious, you thought you’d ask for help when the ER’s less busy. Then come the standard questions: how much the shoulder hurts, how freely can you move your injured arm, is there still any discomfort? Jack’s getting mildly irritated with how long this process takes because he thinks you only need more sleep. And he does too. He bites his tongue when Robby finally walks out.

“We’ll monitor her overnight, probably will discharge her in the afternoon,” he taps on the tablet, then stretches his arms. “God, I’d kill for a glass of scotch right now. Wanna make a beeline for the bar across the street? I have about an hour left.”

“I think I’ll stay put. Maybe see if Evans needs some help with paperwork, or check up on Shen,” Jack trails off.

In all honestly, he feels like his legs are filled with lead. As soon as Robby leaves, Jack picks a chair and puts it right next to your room and almost falls on it, his limbs lumbering, his body worn to a frazzle. The floor is quiet, and he tells himself he’ll close his eyes just for a minute.

... He wakes up on inhale.

At first, he doesn’t know why.

The weather has calmed down, the raindrops tapping in the distance, the buzz of people echoing somewhere far enough to not be a bother. Jack rubs the back of his neck, his muscles tense, his mind a little drowsy — and he catches a small sound, something like a gasp. Then comes another one, sharp, desperate, like someone is struggling to breathe. And that someone is in the room he’s sitting next to.

Jack leaps off the chair and thrusts the door open, and instantly he meets your eyes — wide, terrified, lips trembling and parted. You are sitting in bed, one hand pressed to your chest as you are helplessly gasping for air. He rushes up to you, his voice low but firm, calm, coaxing.

“Hey-hey, you need to breathe through your nose,” Jack says, but you only shake your head, your fingers digging into the white hospital gown.

He sits on your bed and takes your hand before you can scratch into your skin through the thin fabric. “Can you think of a phone number? Any number. Try saying it out loud but backward,” he suggests, his gaze never leaving yours. “What’s the last digit? Let’s start with just one. You can do it, c’mon. Think about it and tell me.”

It takes you about a minute — with each new second your panic wanes, slowly but surely, like thick fog giving way to clear skies. Your voice cracks when you force out:

“T-two.”

“Okay, that’s good, you’re doing good,” Jack praises quietly. “And what’s the second to last?”

Without thinking, he brushes the inside of your palm with his thumb. You don’t recoil. You keep looking at him, and your voice grows stronger, and you are letting more and more air in as you name the remaining digits.

Only when he hears the tenth, Jack figures out: “That’s the ER number.”

You drop your gaze. “I don’t know many phone numbers. It was the first one that came to mind.”

But what he hears is that you don’t have many people you can call. He wishes there was a decent reason to share his number but he can’t think of any.

“How are you feeling?” he asks cautiously.

You take a deep breath in, then out. “Better, I guess. Thank you. I didn’t mean to bother you, it was just a bad dream.”

Jack guesses that it’s more than that: more serious, long-lasting, the imprint your trauma leaves behind, not letting you forget. Because he knows — from memories, from the experience, his own included. He almost sounds apologetic when he notes:

“That’s how PTSD usually works.”

“Isn’t this too soon?” you chuckle mirthlessly. “I was hoping I’d get one good night while I’m on morphine.”

But then your gaze flits back to him — and it’s wondering and heedful, like you are afraid to hurt him. Your question comes out in a whisper: “Did you have to deal with it too?”

Jack is taken aback although it’s not offense that paints his features — it’s genuine surprise. Did you ask around about him? How else would you know? You give him an explanation before he can find the words to ask.

“The dog tags. You tug at your chain sometimes when you think things over. That’s how I noticed,” and it’s your turn to be apologetic.

But your reply is softened by a smile, and you don’t move your hand away from his. It’s not the topic Jack likes bringing up: he’s rarely met with understanding, and he hates being pitied. But you don’t give him pity — instead, you look at him like you want to treat him gently. And he feels like he’d talk to you just about anything.

Jack slowly nods. “Hard to avoid PTSD if you’re in the military. But therapy helped. Lots of therapy, lots of patience. The good old recipe.”

“Can’t wait to break the news to my therapist,” you let out half a groan, half a laugh. “I’m sure she’ll be ecstatic.”

“My therapist would’ve loved it,” Jack blurts out.

You give him a puzzled look. But you sound intrigued. “Okay, you need to elaborate on that. Or find a better therapist.”

Jack breathes out a chuckle. “He just likes solving things — problems, puzzles, murder mysteries. And I feel like he’s getting a little bored of me. Sometimes when he is writing in his notebook, I wonder if he’s just got a crossword hidden in there.”

“Oh, mine loves baking. I used to leave with hands full of pastry. I shared it with colleagues, I even started feeding birds. It’s kind of a relief that we switched to online sessions. Pretty sure half of the pigeons in my neighborhood now suffer from obesity.”

A smile crosses Jack’s face — not at the thought of chubby pigeons but at the realization: you find it easy to talk to him too. But then your hand trembles in his, and instantly Jack is on alert for trouble: his eyes dart from your shoulder to the needle taped to your arm.

“Are you in pain?” Jack frowns. “What’s your morphine dosage? You can get a little extra if —”

“No,” you refuse sharply, and Jack’s acutely aware he chose the wrong words. You only sigh and tug at the blanket with your other hand. “It’s not about morphine, it’s just... My blood pressure is usually low so I get cold easily.”

Jack perks up: that’s something he can actually help you with. “Wait, I’ll be right back,” he promises and rushes out like he just got a second wind.

All his enthusiasm is blown out by the chaos in the ER: it takes him a mortifying amount of time to find where his wool blanket disappeared. He searches the entirety of the nurse station, goes through his locker, he checks both bathrooms and even ventures out into the morgue. He’s running past the entrance when he glimpses Shen — with the said blanket thrown over his shoulders.

“Hey man, look what I found!” Shen blithely tells him.

Jack darts to him and yanks the blanket off, his gaze burning. “Don’t. Just don’t ever touch this.”

Shen blinks uncomprehendingly. “What? It’s not like it had your name on it!”

When Jack comes back, he finds you curled up on the bed, the thin bedcover brought up to your neck, hands folded under your cheek. He tiptoes closer and puts the blanket over you, then tucks you in. He’s checking the IV line’s placement when all of a sudden, your fingers catch his palm — as if on impulse, or maybe out of habit you are unconsciously forming.

“You are so warm,” your voice is barely above the whisper.

His hand stays pressed to yours as you doze off, and Jack stands still. For a minute, five, ten; he doesn’t feel like moving.

And then, without letting go of you, he manages to reach the chair and pull it closer to your bed. He sits down and lowers one of the side rails, then leans to you, his elbows sinking into the mattress, your steady breath grazing his skin. Jack rests his chin on his free arm and watches you — with peacefulness that’s akin to tenderness, with some other feeling that fills him up with warmth.

And slowly, he gives in to sleep, lulled by the sounds of the rain and monitors, his hand tangled with yours, his thumb on your pulse.

GSW = gunshot wound / PBP = The Pittsburgh Police;

shout-out to @/thedarkesthistories who made a post about everything Jack’s got in his backpack ♡

I did a lot of research (the FBI agent watching me through my laptop was probably hella confused by me reading case studies and watching surgeries lmao) BUT obviously, I am not a doctor so please forgive me for any inaccuracies;

the title is a quote from “Wake” by SYML ♫

dividers by @/cafekitsune & me.

some bad and good news. the bad: this chapter originally was coming close to 20K and... no, I don’t think many people would’ve read that. so we’ll have 4 chapters in total instead of 3. the good news: the next chapter is half-written so hopefully it won’t take me forever to finish it (fingers crossed).

English is not my first language, so feel free to tell me if you spot any major mistakes!

I also want to take a moment to thank everyone who left a comment and reblogged my fic(s). obviously, I am grateful for every like I get. but if I’m being honest, my imposter syndrome often beats all the motivation out of me, and as much as I enjoy writing, I spend an embarrassing amount of time on self-doubting. I know my fics aren’t everyone’s cup of tea (I rarely write short stories, I don’t include smut in every single one, my writing style might seem overloaded or too detailed... the list goes on), and that’s fine. but I also have an unfortunate habit of joining fandoms a little too late. which feels like walking into a cafeteria where all the tables are already taken, and no one intends to spare you a seat. I don’t feel like a part of a community and at the end of the day, I write for myself. which is why it’s so rewarding when people find the time to say something nice about my fics and to share them. thank you so much to every single one of you, that means a lot to me. ♡

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