/vt/ - Virtual Youtubers

I want to make Kiara

>>5652936
>"These people are saying he has a girlfriend? THAT CANT BE FUCKING TRUE RIGHT?"
>"Holy shit they're so off with his roommate speculation that obviously couldn't be him"
>"What do you mean he's collaborating with a female chuuba?"

Your relationship stays on the rocks. In the rare moments you steal together there's still a spark of something there. The two of you still love each other, as greedy, needy kisses attest - but Mori's schedule grows even more packed over time rather than less. One project is finished and she starts two more.

The highlight of your week starts to be the day her phoenix friend comes around to give you a little pep-talk, watch a movie and eat fast food. She seems to like it too- starting to cuddle closer as you watch things that vary erratically between being corny beyond belief and magnificent classics of cinema. Her weekly visits become twice weekly - then more. She's with you at home more often than the woman you love.

Over time, you see less and less of her orange business suit - and instead of bringing you a bucket of fried chicken she starts coming with fresh ingredients to cook in your kitchen. The compliments you give to her curries and risotto split her face with gleeful smiles, and some days you catch yourself staring at the blue straps showing through the thin summer shirt she likes to wear, admiring the curves that bounce around your kitchen not-really-covered by the small frilly apron she likes to wear. One day she happens to turn and meet your gaze. For a brief moment she seems surprised, blushes bright red and turns into a klutz, knocking things over and burning the supper she was making. She's uncharacteristically quiet as the two of you sit down to eat.
"How was it?" She eventually asks. You ate the food, of course you did, but it's her you're looking at when you say:
"Delicious."

After that, it's not even subtle. The next day she strips out of her thin white shirt claiming the summer sun is just too hot. She jiggles around the counter in front of your eyes - she's giving you a show and you take in every second. You don't even see the elastic of any panties peeking out from her denim shorts.

>>5291967
Your relationship stays on the rocks. In the rare moments you steal together there's still a spark of something there. The two of you still love each other, as greedy, needy kisses attest - but Mori's schedule grows even more packed over time rather than less. One project is finished and she starts two more.

The highlight of your week starts to be the day her phoenix friend comes around to give you a little pep-talk, watch a movie and eat fast food. She seems to like it too- starting to cuddle closer as you watch things that vary erratically between being corny beyond belief and magnificent classics of cinema. Her weekly visits become twice weekly - then more. She's with you at home more often than the woman you love.

Over time, you see less and less of her orange business suit - and instead of bringing you a bucket of fried chicken she starts coming with fresh ingredients to cook in your kitchen. The compliments you give to her curries and risotto split her face with gleeful smiles, and some days you catch yourself staring at the blue straps showing through the thin summer shirt she likes to wear, admiring the curves that bounce around your kitchen not-really-covered by the small frilly apron she likes to wear. One day she happens to turn and meet your gaze. For a brief moment she seems surprised, blushes bright red and turns into a klutz, knocking things over and burning the supper she was making. She's uncharacteristically quiet as the two of you sit down to eat.
"How was it?" She eventually asks. You ate the food, of course you did, but it's her you're looking at when you say:
"Delicious."

After that, it's not even subtle. The next day she strips out of her thin white shirt claiming the summer sun is just too hot. She jiggles around the counter in front of your eyes - she's giving you a show and you take in every second. You don't even see the elastic of any panties peeking out from her denim shorts.