#as of right now i can barely get up to feed myself

[tea-stained-tabby]

.

[orcelito]

Honestly hate how hard it is to start writing again when you've gone too long without it. Like for fuck's sake man Why's shit gotta be like this

[wanders-in-wonderland]

Countdown

I startle awake and I find myself strapped down, on my knees, with my legs straddling a sybian and my arms tied tightly behind me. There are more ropes wrapped around my knees, keeping my body pressed firmly against the machine. I’m naked and I can feel the ridges of the machine pressed harshly against my bare core, the pressure forcing my clit to bear full contact against the smooth material of the machine.

My eyes dart around the room as I struggle uselessly against my bindings. The room is so dimly lit that I can hardly see a few feet in front of me.

“Help! Please! Someone help me!” I scream into the empty space, my voice filled with desperation and fear as the gravity of the situation hits me. Suddenly, as if in response to my plead, lights pierce through the darkness, illuminating everything to full brightness.

I gasp and instinctively squeeze my eyes shut, the sudden light a harsh assault to my senses. When my vision finally adjusts enough for me to look around again, I feel a surge of terror when I see the set up around me.

There are several cameras and microphones laid out surrounding me, clearly set up to get 360 coverage of me. Directly in front of me is a massive screen that show the live camera feeds and I feel a shiver of fear creep down my spine when I see how helpless and vulnerable I look, naked and strapped down. On the bottom half of the screen there’s a blinking red light with the words Livestream Disabled flashing. My stomach clenches when I realize that the live footage of me, tied up and naked like this, could be livestreamed to who knows how many people across the world.

Tears well up in my eyes as panic starts to settle in. I let out a soft sob, wanting nothing more than to curl into myself, away from everything around me. “Please, don’t do this! Please let me go!” My voice is choked with tears and fear as my futile struggles against the bindings are coldly captured by the cameras and my begging is met with absolute silence.

All of a sudden, the machine I’m straddling roars to life. I scream as my back instinctively arches to try to reduce some of the sensation with no effect. The ropes around my legs force my entire weight to sink onto the machine, pressing my pussy mercilessly against the now-vibrating sybian. The vibrations are steady and I feel them wash over me as my clit takes the brunt of it all.

I gasp as the sensation starts to build and my mind wrestles with the juxtaposition of fear and pleasure. The rumbling vibration of the machine is drawing out soft moans and whines from me as I feel the sensations mounting. I writhe as much as I can but there’s nothing I can do to slow the onslaught of pleasure that is very quickly overwhelming me. There’s nothing else in the space around me to distract me from what’s happening to my body, though I’m not sure there’s anything that could distract me right now.

I try my best to shift my weight to take some pressure off my clit but there’s no leverage for me to move my body. I let out a desperate whine as I feel myself getting closer and closer to cumming. My mind is scrambling as I’m trying to rationalize everything that is happening, being strapped to a machine and forcibly brought to an unwanted orgasm. I can’t hold back any longer and I feel my orgasm wash over me, my eyes fluttering shut as I my clit pulses and my pussy clenches. A moan escapes me as I writhe atop the machine, my hips grinding into the vibrations as my release tapers off.

The machine mercifully slows underneath me, the vibrations coming to a halt as I pant, trying to catch my breath and regain my bearings. When I glance up again at the screen, I feel a new wash of terror grip me as I register a few changes.

There’s a new line of text under where Livestream Disabled is written. It says Countdown to Livestream: 1 of 5. It takes me a moment before I register the meaning of the words: if I cum 5 times, the livestream turns on, showcasing my naked, shaking, cumming body to the entire world. I realize that whoever set up this cruel situation has every intention of forcing me to bend to their will so that I helplessly and reluctantly cum my way into putting on a show, my own body betraying me. I don’t have time to process any further before the sybian turns on again, this time at a much higher frequency.

A cry escapes from my lips and my body lurches as I desperately try to escape the stimulation. It’s too soon since my first orgasm and my clit is tingling with sensitivity. The machine doesn’t care as it relentlessly batters my body.

I’m trying to take deep breaths, to distract myself from the vibrations wracking my body. My clit feels hypersensitive and I silently beg my body to please, please don’t cum again.

I can feel myself getting closer and closer to a second orgasm and I’m doing everything in my power to hold it back. I’m determined to hold out, to not let this demented situation bend me to break. The pleasure makes me gasp and whine, my clit turning into a focal point of unadulterated ecstasy. The sound of my own ragged breathing fills the air as I’m drawing in desperate deep breaths to try to calm myself. It’s no match against the machine beneath me as it increases in intensity and I lose the shred of command I held over my body. A scream is wretched out of my throat as I cum.

The text on the screen changes in response: Countdown to Livestream: 2 of 5.

I let out a choked whine and I’m grasping at straws as I beg into the empty space, hoping, praying for a miracle to make this all stop. “Please,” my voice is shaking, “Please, help me. Make this stop, I’m begging you, please!” There’s no miraculous rescue in response to my pleading. This time, there’s not even a break between orgasms. The vibrations only kick up a notch, pulling a gasp from my lips.

“No, no, no, please! Please stop! I don’t want this!” I cry out, unable to stop myself from begging even when I know it’s useless. There’s no sympathy for me. I feel the horrible pleasure start to build again. My hands clench into fists and I dig my nails into my palms, gritting my teeth as I will my body to ignore the pleasure. It didn’t work earlier and it doesn’t work this time. My sheer will is no match against the machine bending my body to its wants. I shatter into a third orgasm, the pleasure rushing through me so intensely that I feel my head spin.

Countdown to Livestream: 3 of 5.

I jerk and struggle uselessly against my bindings. I feel the vibrations start to slow and I gasp in relief as my body comes down from the high it was forced into. There’s a growing feeling of despair as I realize I’m only two orgasms away from the livestream starting. And it doesn’t look like I have any hope to withstanding the pleasure to hold out for much longer. As if on cue, the machine restarts its vibrations.

The previous orgasms have pushed my body into overstimulation and my clit feels raw with pleasure but there’s nothing to give me a break. My pussy is drooling over the sybian, clenching and pulsing as pleasure makes me a slave. I’m being pushed higher and higher as I focus every measure of my mind to holding this orgasm back.

My teeth dig into my lip as I try to ground myself in the pain and my eyes are screwed shut. I teeter over the edge but out of sheer will, I hold myself back, begging my body to comply. For a moment, I manage to force my body to obey, curbing the pleasure. Then, the vibrations increase again.

I let out an anguished cry as the pleasure rushes through me, shattering all of my efforts at containing myself. I feel my cunt spray my release all over myself, my body locked in the throes of my orgasm. The sounds exploding out of me are a combination of pure pleasure and sheer torment.

Countdown to Livestream: 4 of 5.

I’m one orgasm away from the point of no return and the terror of being broadcasted to the world makes me want to cry. The vibrations pick up speed and there’s a sense of resigned acceptance that washes over me as my body obeys the machine and begins to inch towards my final release. But this time, it’s so much worse than I could’ve anticipated.

The sybian batters my body as it has with the past four orgasms. It expertly and unrelentingly drives me higher and higher in my pleasure, pulling moans and gasps out of me as it works. My body is barreling towards another all-encompassing orgasm when suddenly, all of the stimulation cuts off just as I’m about to cum. I let out a loud gasp as my body jerks in response to the loss of pleasure. I don’t understand. I was so fucking close and it all stopped. My eyes dart to the screen but there’s nothing there to explain what happened. The words Countdown to Livestream: 4 of 5 seem to taunt me.

My body slowly creeps back from the edge, my breathing stabilizing as the haze of pleasure slowly fades away. And then, the machine restarts. The vibrations are harsh and intense against my clit and I cry out as the previous pleasure suddenly slams back into me. Before long, I’m letting out gasping cries as my body once again is at the very precipice of pleasure. Again, it all stops. I can’t control the whine that slips out. I should be happy. Whatever is making the machine cut off at the very last second is obviously saving me from the livestream starting but the deep, primal, needy part of me wants to cry at the pleasure that’s being withheld from me.

The cycle continues when the machine restarts. At the very last moment, when just one more second of stimulation would push me over the edge, the machine stops. This time, I cry, hot and desperate tears falling down my cheeks.

I can’t even bring myself to care about the livestream anymore. I’m so fucking close, so desperate for the pleasure that I would sell my soul to cum. The last four orgasms do nothing to curb this insatiable desire that’s built up since the edging began and I’m mindless with need. My cunt is clenching around nothing, my clit throbbing in time to my heart beat but there’s nothing I can do to push myself over the edge. I feel my orgasm fading away and I let out a needy whine.

A few moments later, the sybian starts up again and a lewd moan slips from my mouth. My back arches as the pleasure washes over me, the previous edging driving me so close to the brink that even a few seconds of vibrations are enough to push me to the edge again. But again, the machine stops.

“Please! Please, I’m begging you, I need to cum. Please let me cum! Please, I need to cum.” My pleas didn’t work earlier when I was begging for the pleasure to stop and they certainly don’t work when I’m now pleading for an orgasm. It’s a cruel joke to make me such a slave to pleasure that I’m begging for my own demise.

The unrelenting cycle continues as the vibrations resume. There are incoherent babbles of desperation spilling from my lips as the pleasure mounts. Again, I’m held at the torturous edge as the machine plays my body like a familiar instrument.

Again, the vibrations cut off just as I’m about to cum. I scream. “Please! Please let me cum, just start the livestream, please, I just need to cum!”

It seems that I’ve said the magic words because the machine beneath me restarts with a fervor. I barely have time to draw a breath in when my orgasm slams full force into me. I shatter into unrelenting, all-encompassing pleasure as my cunt squirts out my release. Every single cell of my body is flooded with ecstasy and my consciousness shatters under the force of it all.

When I regain my senses again, I glance up at the screen and see the fated words reflecting back towards me: Livestream On, Countdown to Livestream: 5 of 5. I can’t bring myself to care when the machine underneath me increases its power and my eyes roll up as my overstimulated body is forced to react.

[7seas-of-ryy]

Come Back To Me

Author’s Note: Italics are flashbacks! Grumpy x Sunshine! No shenanigans in this one! I'm sorry!

Summary: You had always been the positive one in the IC but one mission can change everything. Set during the war with Hybern!

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Warnings: talks of torture, let me know if I need to add any others :)

"Hey, I brought you something to eat." Azriel barely whispered as he entered your room.

You looked his way but said nothing, then turned your head back to what you were looking at. The view of the city from your room was always gorgeous, but now it was just something to for you to stare at while you struggled to get through the days.

Disappointment flooded the shadowsinger when you made no move to grab the food.

It had been months of this. Months of him trying to get you back to how you used to be. It seemed you made no improvement but he still tried.

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"Azzzzzz" You called out in a sing-song voice.

"What now?" He grumbled out.

He was trying to do work, frustrated he couldn't find a solution for Rhysand. And being holed up in the library was not helping his mood.

"You have to try this! I picked it up at the bakery and it is delicious!" You told him with pure excitement, not letting his attitude alter your mood.

You never let anyone get in the way of your mood. Happiness seemed to be easy for you. Glass half full was definitely how you viewed life. Azriel envied that.

Without waiting for a reply from the male, you held up the pastry to his mouth.

"I can feed myself." He spoke and gave you a look.

Instead of replying, you put the pastry in his face again. He rolled his eyes yet took a bite of the treat.

It was the most delicious thing he had ever tasted. His eyes immediately shut and groaned. That was what you loved, seeing these small moments where he wasn’t worried about saving everyone.

You could see the frustration fade from his face, replaced by awe of how amazing the baked good was.

"You can have the rest! I'll get out of your hair so you can get back to work. Oh! I almost forgot, I also got you this coffee, let me know if you need any help!" You told him as you made your way to the exit.

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The spymaster felt useless. It seemed there was nothing he could do for you... until an idea came to him.

He got to the bakery as fast as possible and bought the same pastry that you had bought him all those years ago. He grabbed himself a coffee and made his way back to you.

After knocking on your door to let you know he was coming in, he walked over to you.

"Guess what I got you!" He said with a smile, "Its one of those pastries that you love so much!"

He held it in front of you and you didn't even look his way.

Suddenly his apetite was gone. He didn't think it was possible for his heart to hurt anymore than it currently did. He kissed the top of your head and let you be.

Without another thought, he went to find Rhys.

"Help her. I don't care what you have to do, help her right now." Az pleaded.

"You know I can't do that. She hasn't asked me to and I don't do that without consent." Rhys told him.

"This is all your fault! You should have stopped her! Forbid her from using herself as a distraction! She is a shell of herself because of you!" Az was now shouting, letting his emotions take over.

"Do you think I don't know that? Do you think I wanted to leave her there?" Rhys shouted right back.

He was hurting from all of this too, everyone in the IC was. They had saved you and yet it seemed everyone was mourning the person you once were.

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He could hear you giggling before he saw you. As he entered his room, he saw you standing with your hands behind your back and a giant grin on your face.

Az eyed you suspiciously and crossed his arms over his chest.

"What're you doing in my room?" He questioned and his voice was rougher than he wanted it to be.

"Do you remember your leathers that ripped during the last mission we were on?" You asked the male.

He nodded his head in response, waiting for you to continue.

"I fixed them!" You said, revealing the repaired leathers that had been behind your back.

"I sewed them up and reinforced the seam!" You told him with such excitement.

His eyes softened slightly and he wanted to reach out and hug you but he couldn't let himself. He wouldn't let himself get too close to you, couldn't handle the pain of another loved one getting hurt.

"Thank you," He spoke bluntly then cleared his throat, "What were you laughing at?"

"A few of your shadows and I were just thinking about how you ripped them. I can't believe your leg slipped and you did the splits!" You let out another giggle.

He tried to fight it but a small smile made it's way to his face at your joy.

"Well, thank you again." He spoke quickly before you noticed his grin.

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He looked down at his clothes as he sat next to you in your room, there were small holes and rips all over them.

Normally you repaired them without him asking. He told you that you didn't have to but you assured him you wanted to. Now, he refused to let anyone else fix his clothes.

"Mor refuses to be seen with me in public." Azriel told you with a small laugh.

"She says I look homeless with all these rips in my clothes. But I don't care, I don't trust anyone else to sew my shirts besides you." He spoke again with a smile.

You still stayed completely still, staring at the city below. You felt hollow. It didn't matter that you were still alive, you were dead as far as you were concerned. There was no way to continue life after everything that had happened.

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It was supposed to be simple, meet with Eris, gather information on Hybern and return to the Night Court. The four of you weren't expecting a trap.

As you entered the old building to meet Eris, you could sense something was off. Your suspicions were confirmed when one wrong step set off a trap. Arrows, ash wood arrows shot out from all directions. Luckily you weren't hit by any. Two hit Rhys, one in his shoulder and one in his wing. One hit Feyre in her leg. And four...four hit Azriel; two in his wings, one in his side and one in his leg.

You ran to Az to help him, seeing he had the worst wounds.

"Hey hey, you're ok. I'm going to get you home and we can heal you up, ok?" You told him, giving him a smile that didn't reach your eyes. You forced your tears away, not willing to let him think you were worried.

He loved that smile. He was dying and yet all he could think about was how much your smile meant to him.

As you were trying to break the arrows so you could pull them out of him, you noticed his face pale. And then you heard it, Hybern's soldiers.

The trap must have alerted them and they would be here any minute.

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Rhys had told Az that you drank a few sips of water and ate a tiny bit. As soon as he got the news, he was running to your room. You hadn't responded to anyone at all yet but he seemed to be filled with a new hope.

So, he sat here talking to you and couldn't keep a smile off his face.

"I heard you got some food down, I'm proud of you." He gently offered his words.

He stayed with you for the rest of the day, talking to you about any and everything. He had never spoken so much in his life.

Months passed after that with no more improvements in your condition, it seemed you would never get better. He knew he fell in love with you no matter how hard he tried to stop it, so he fought like hell to hold onto whatever hope he had.

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You dragged Az with all your strength over to Rhys and Feyre. She seemed to be doing ok despite the arrow still sticking out of her thigh. She had pulled the arrows out of Rhys but he was still very hurt.

"Are you ok to winnow?" You asked Rhys.

"I think so, but I won't be able to carry all three of you." He spoke through pained breaths.

"You don't need to. Just get Feyre and Az out of here." You commanded your High Lord.

You knew that if they stayed, you would all be dead. Rhys couldn't carry all of you in his condition, you just hoped he would listen to what you told him to do.

"What? No, how will you get out?" Azriel whispered from the ground.

"I have a plan." You told him.

"You three can't fight, you will die if you stay here. Winnow them out and get Az to a healer." You told Rhys through your mind.

He seemed to be going back and forth in his head, trying to figure out a different way. He gave you a weary look.

"There's no other way. I'll be ok, you have to go now. They're almost here." You added.

The soldiers came running in, ready to attack. You ran right at them, fighting them so they couldn’t get to the other three. You could hear Az screaming to stay as Rhys grabbed him and winnowed out.

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He had been drunk for three days straight at this point. He welcomed the numbness after all the agony he has felt. Once it was night time, he made his way to your room and sat down outside of your door to sleep, just like he did every night in case you needed him.

In the morning, Feyre passed by your door. Az was still asleep and smelled of booze.

She quietly snuck past him and went into your room.

"Hey, I'm not sure what to say or do to help you. But I wanted to let you know how hard Azriel is trying. I mean...you know that but I just want you to realize how much he loves you. How much we all love you. There's not a day that goes by that I don't think about what happened, I wish it had been me instead... but you need to know that Azriel is drowning. He is drowning without you. I have never seen him like this and I think we might lose him for good. If you don't have the strength to fight for yourself, please… fight for him." Feyre pleaded with you.

You didn't respond but what she said stuck with you. You had tried everything but it didn't matter, you couldn't find the strength to help yourself. Maybe it would be easier to find strength for the one you love.

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"We just got word. Y/N is alive and we have her location." Rhys spoke quickly.

Azriel shot up from his spot, getting his weapons ready instantly.

As soon as everyone was set, they left to rescue you. After a couple hours, they found you. You were bloody and bruised all over, chained up. Tears welled up in Azriel's eyes but he focused on saving you. He flew you home and you showed Rhys everything.

Rhys saw how you were tortured, starved, and beat every day. He saw how they questioned you about the Night Court and you never gave up anything. You were held captive for three months…he wasn’t sure how you survived.

After they saved you and found out everything you went through, Azriel helped you bathe. You never talked, just nodded or shook your head and you never looked up. He was so grateful you were safe and back with them but he sure did miss your smile.

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It was a beautiful morning, you sat watching the orange and pink sky as the city woke up. There was a knock at the door and Az walked in. He didn’t speak as he set a tray of breakfast foods and coffee down. You didn’t even look over at him but not because you were still checked out. No, this time it was because you couldn’t pull your eyes from the beauty of the sunrise.

You aren’t exactly sure why but you felt something crack inside of you, this was the first time since you were taken that you felt something positive. It was the first time you wanted to live to see these pink and orange hues again.

When Azriel looked over at you he realized there were tears rolling down your cheeks.

“Are you ok?! What’s wrong!?” He panicked, checking everywhere for threats.

“It’s beautiful.” You choked out in between sobs, pointing at the sunrise.

He let out a breath he had been holding in and visibly relaxed. He sat next to you and pulled you close. You leaned into him and he put his arm around you. Neither of you talked, just enjoyed watching the sky come to life in front of you.

He looked down at you after some time had passed and saw the faintest smile on your face. It was barely there but he saw it and that was all that mattered.

“It’s breathtaking.” Azriel stated.

You shook your head in agreement, but what you didn’t know was that he wasn’t talking about the view, he was talking about you.

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“Please please please!” You begged Azriel.

“You woke me up at 4am to watch the sunrise?!” He mumbled with a look of irritation on his face.

“You have to see it! I promise it’ll be worth it!” You continued to beg.

“Fine but I’m not going to be happy about it.” He grunted as he got out of bed, following you to the balcony.

You pulled him down next to you, the pure excitement and adoration you had for something as simple as a sunrise made the spymaster’s heart clench.

The both of you sat and watched the sunrise and you laid your head on his shoulder.

“Isn’t it so beautiful?” You asked him without taking your eyes from the sky.

“It really is.” He responded without taking his eyes from you.

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[kawaiijohn]

Help a queer family of disabled nerds

Hey my name is Dante, I live in the Midwest with three of my best friends. We have four cats, one of which is my babyman whom I love very dearly.

His name is Latke Library Card Mango (LLCM). He's very orange and he's the light of my boyfriend, Kris, and I's life.

Cat pics are great right? Have a few.

A few months ago, latkes chronic bladder stones condition acted up which resulted in two emergency vet visits and a week long stay with his actual vet to get the stone removed.

It was the size of a chickpea.

Here's a photo of his post surgery when he had a nakie tummy. He was very very happy to see us.

He's since recovered, but the cost of this put us back around 1300 dollars in total. He's now on a special diet with rather pricey food to prevent this from happening but it might still act up eventually.

We've paid down some of his debt, but the interest is making it become more and more as we try to pay it down.

On top of this, our pipes backed up into our basement and refused to work suddenly a few weeks ago. We live in a house that is over a century old, and the clay pipes keep getting roots growing into them that causes them to not drain.

The roto had to come out and high pressure the roots out to clear them (which required expensive equipment), This put us back another grand.

To add to everything, our 700+ auto insurance bill is due in November, which is the worst time for this bill to need due, but both myself and Kris drive over ten miles to work during different shifts on opposite ends of town- neither of our jobs have public transit anywhere near them.

We are currently barely making ends meet-

I am a lunch lady at a public high school. I love my job. I feed kids who possibly don't even eat at home some days. I do work I am proud of.

However, I can only work around 25 hours a week without risking losing my insurance as a disabled person. My job does not have longer hour positions available, and I am too disabled to work more than this without ruining my body like I have done in the past.

I have been going without buying groceries out of fear that what little money I have in my account will be needed in an emergency. I will be out of work for a week this month, around Thanksgiving, and during Xmas break- unpaid due to me working in a school. Me being out also means no guaranteed meal every day.

Kris works in a factory. He is currently working 55+ hours a week to make what we can to pay off the bills and keep our house. He only has one and a half knees that hurt all the damn time and is barely eating either just to afford everything. His factory keeps calling for sudden shutdown weeks with little notice at the worst times, and he's the main breadwinner in the house for us.

The other two in our household, one is severely disabled and can barely work 10 hr/week (he is waiting on hearing back to receive SSI) on top of having multiple medical appointments a week to figure out what is wrong with his body and why it keeps failing. The other is a freelance artist who is working her butt off to make money while carting the previous to appointments nearly every day. She is full up on commissions at the moment, but when she opens them I'll reblog her posts.

I really didn't want to make this post. I hate asking for help. But we are drowning and there's no sign of land. None of us can afford to live on our own, nor can we move back in with our parents for various reasons.

All I'm asking for is some help. I don't care how much. Five dollars is five dollars. Five dollars is half an hour less we have to kill ourselves to make ends meet.

Even if we don't make the full amount, every dollar will help us get a bit closer to paying this stuff down so we can afford gas and regular grocery trips again instead of having to save up to go once a month like we are currently doing.

Our goal is 2000 dollars.

Yes, this is the high amount. I do not believe we will ever reach it. I can hope we can raise this much at some point.

But for now that's the dream number.

It's the number that is looming over our heads, telling us to pay up or lose our home.

It's not something we need this very moment, but just what we need in the next few months to be able to afford living without destroying our body or working three jobs/ridiculous hours.

We thank anyone who can spare a few bucks to help us, and if you can't afford it just pass this post along to someone who might be able to.

Please send as friend/family if you can, PayPal is threatening to withhold money sent as transactions now if you receive over a certain amount.

This includes sending things through my ko-fi account- so here's the preferred methods:

Progress:

388.74/2,000

Thank you for reading. I love you.

[m-ayo-o]

jjk char reactions;

"hey baby, welcome home, what have you eaten today?"

"not much" :(

very hungry reader had no time to eat all day! fluffy + crack ish. just the main guys. older yuji + megumi. reader likes a lil spicy food. toji + megumi had some kind of relationship. soft sukuna [suggestive right at the end]

satoru gojo

totally overreacts

he'd find it amusing at first, seeing your pouty, hangry face

he will tease and goad you for being so hungry, with numerous belly pokes and cheek squeezes and saying you look cute like this

he'll pause his blabbering just to hear your tummy rumble and gurgle so he can laugh at you some more

after he's eventually finished mocking you and realises just how hungry you are, he'll pat your head and offer to get you something yummy

proceeds to teleport all over the city to collect your favourite dishes from numerous restaurants

comes home with way too much food, all packaged up in fancy boxes and bags- he can barely carry them all

of course, he got his favourites too- eats with you till you're stuffed

"You had THAT??? All day? Angel, baby, how did you survive? Aww, baby's so hungry she can't even fight back. Oh! You really are- oh, you can't stand up? Ok, just sit down here let me get your favourites. Just tell me what you need, I can get anything you want."

nanami kento

gets slightly annoyed then proceeds to mother you like you're his baby chick

he gets a bit worried; he really cares about you and needs to know you're looking after yourself

if not, he will do it for you

he will get out his cook books, have you flick through them and make a choice for your starter, main and dessert

he'll sit you on the kitchen counter while he makes the most wholesome home cooked meal, that he proceeds to serve beautifully !!!

oh, and of course, he won't be letting you feed yourself ever again- starting from tonight

he'll be taking the food to your mouth himself, just to make sure you eat it all

"That's irresponsible, honey. I can go back to making you packed lunches if you want? It really wasn't that much hassle. Ok, right, we can talk about that later. Just sit up here- yep, good girl. We have lots of fresh ingredients so just tell me whatever you want. Oh, you like my cooking? Good, well let me take care of you."

suguru geto

he's endlessly patient with you

like kento, he will be mothering you <3

he asks what exactly you've eaten in the day while stroking your belly gently

he presses sympathetic kisses to your forehead in the hopes to wipe that miserable expression off your face

of course, it works, and he takes your hand and guides you to the living room

he'll lay you down on the sofa, bring you your favourite drink and get you cosy and comfortable

he'll give you one more kiss before leaving for the kitchen

he puts on his apron and waits on you like you're his damn goddess

"Baby, come here, you've got all hangry now. Come on, I need to see your pretty face smiling ok, don't look so grumpy. Just take my hand, yeah come here. Just sit tight, I'll make your favourites, ok? Mm, does that sound good? Ok, good girl, just wait here for me."

toji fushiguro

condescending, belittling, bit mean

but still gives you the goods... eventually puts on his 'best dad' apron that Megumi got him as a joke but he secretly loves it

spanks your ass for banter but nearly makes you fall over

picks you up over his shoulder when he realises what kind of state you're in

plonks you on the sofa and strolls to the kitchen

he's not rushing around for you, he doesn't show you much sympathy in his words- but the food he gives you... says it all

places a little kiss on your cheek and tells you to enjoy the meal (it's so much that you will be full for all of tomorrow as well)

"What? That's nothing, doll. What's up with you? You didn't have any cash? No time, huh. 'kay, well since you're too dumb to prepare food for the day yourself guess I'll have to do it now, hm. Jesus- 'soon as one kid grows up and moves out, looks like I've got myself another one huh? Right, you're not my girl. And I'm not your daddy?"

megumi fushiguro

acts as though it's not his problem- which it really isn't but you're feeling so needy that you just want him to buckle this once and show you some sympathy

you have to spell it out for him that you want him to help you

but once he understands that you want him to take care of you, he feels this odd sense of pride that you're asking

and of course, you've tasted his cooking before- he's amazing and you'd love to encourage him to do it more often

he knows what you like already, so he just cooks in silence and serves you the most delicious meal, filled with all the right spices

it doesn't blow your head off, but gets your tongue tingling in the most satisfying way

once you're done he tidies up immediately and asks if everything was alright

feels more relaxed now you've got everything you need- curls up on the sofa with you and snuggles all night

reminds you to eat well by text every day from now on

"Uh huh. Right. Are you going to make something then? What are you looking at? Oh, you want me to do it? Uh, ok, sure. I suppose I'm not too bad at cooking. Good, I'm glad you liked it. Sure, I can cook for you more often."

yuji itadori

like satoru, flaps around and overreacts like crazy

accidentally makes it worse by talking about all the delicious foods he'd like to eat right now if he were hungry

apologises profusely when he hears your belly rumble and immediately offers to buy you take out

starts to feel sorry that you've had such a hectic day that you couldn't even eat properly

carries you to the sofa like you're his princess and lays you down there with your favourite show on tv

shows you lots of affection and sympathy <3

sits with you and gives you little kisses till your food arrives

"What!!! I can't even imagine how hungry I'd be if that's all I ate! Are you kidding??? That's crazy, there are so many yummy places to eat out there sweetie, you couldn't choose or something? No, oh you just didn't have enough time? Oh wow, you must've been so busy baby, let me order something for you right away!!"

ryomen sukuna

he'd act like the most annoying dad at first

proceeds to chastise you like you're some kind of idiot for not being able to get a good meal all day long

teases you for what feels like an eternity, making shitty jokes about how many mouths he has to feed

finally lets up when you get on your knees on the kitchen floor to start raiding the cupboards

picks you up and you cling to him like a lil baby monkey, trying to kiss his tattooed face when he sets you on the sofa surprisingly lovingly

he just pushes you off and heads to the kitchen

he's never cooked for you before, but it's surprisingly good and you eat it all so quickly he chuckles and offers you dessert by tugging at the waistband of his pants

"Silly girl, can't even take care of herself. Ok, ok, chill out. I'm only kidding, let me do it. Here, you really are a useless brat. Just- no- lie down if you can't do anything else. Yes, I'll make something for you. Whatever. O-oh, you're still hungry...?"

reblog if ur hungry lol also idk what happened to me with this one- will never write fluff again haha

[florawrites-blog]

Audacity - enhypen

-Enhypen reaction to you babying their members

Lee heeseung - 이희승

In the warmth of the cozy living room, the aroma of freshly made soup filled the air as you sat beside Jay, who looked pale and exhausted. He’d been the one to care for everyone else, but now, with a fever making him weak, it was your turn to return the favor.

You gently stirred the soup, bringing the spoon closer to his lips. “Come on, Jay, just one more spoon. It’ll help you feel better,” you encouraged, your voice soft and reassuring.

Jay, eyes barely open, managed a small, grateful smile. “I can do it myself,” he mumbled, but his body betrayed him as he struggled to lift his arm. You shook your head, insisting he let you help.

Just as you were about to offer another spoonful, a loud throat clearing interrupted the moment. Startled, you turned to see Heeseung standing in the doorway, his expression unreadable. His eyes flicked from you to Jay, then back to you. The silence that followed was heavy, almost tangible.

Heeseung didn’t say a word. He simply walked past you, his gaze lingering a little too long before he disappeared down the hallway. You frowned, confusion settling in as you finished feeding Jay.

Later that evening, you found Heeseung in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed, staring at his phone. You approached him cautiously, placing a hand on his arm. “Heeseung, is everything okay?”

He looked up briefly, his expression still guarded, before returning his attention to his phone without a word. The cold shoulder he was giving you sent a shiver down your spine.

“Are you upset because of earlier?” you asked, trying to get him to open up.

Heeseung remained silent, his face giving nothing away. The tension in the air was palpable, and it hurt to see him like this, especially when you didn’t fully understand why.

You sighed, stepping closer to him. “Heeseung, talk to me. I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s nothing,” he finally muttered, cutting you off. But his tone said otherwise. The distance between you, despite being only a few feet, felt like a chasm.

The rest of the evening passed in a strained silence, and even when you tried to engage him in conversation, he kept his responses short, never looking directly at you. The warmth and affection that usually filled the air between you two were replaced by an uncomfortable coldness.

As you lay in bed that night, Heeseung’s back turned towards you, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was deeply wrong. You reached out, gently placing your hand on his shoulder. “Heeseung, please… I’m sorry if I upset you.”

He stiffened under your touch, but after a long pause, he sighed deeply, finally turning to face you. “It’s just… seeing you with Jay like that, taking care of him… I know he’s sick, but it made me feel… jealous, I guess,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your heart ached at his words. “Heeseung, you know you’re the one I love, right? I was just helping Jay because he needed it.”

“I know,” he said, his voice softer now, the anger in his eyes replaced by vulnerability. “But I couldn’t help feeling like… maybe you care for him more.”

You shook your head, reaching out to cup his cheek. “That’s not true. I care about all of you, but what I have with you is different, special. You’re my boyfriend, Heeseung, and I love you.”

Heeseung’s expression softened, and he finally pulled you into his arms, holding you close. “I’m sorry for giving you the silent treatment. I just didn’t know how to deal with what I was feeling.”

“It’s okay,” you whispered, relieved that the tension between you was melting away. “Just don’t shut me out again, okay? We can talk through anything.”

He nodded, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I promise. And I’ll try not to get jealous so easily next time.”

You smiled, snuggling closer to him, feeling the warmth return to your relationship. The silence that had once felt so cold was now comforting, filled with understanding and love.

Park jongseong - 박종성

The morning sunlight filtered through the windows, casting a warm glow in the room as you stood in front of Jungwon, carefully fixing his tie. He was dressed in a sharp suit, ready for an important event, but there was a hint of nervousness in his eyes. You smiled, trying to ease his anxiety.

"Look at you, you look adorable," you said, your voice filled with affection as you adjusted the knot on his tie.

Jungwon blushed slightly, offering a shy smile. "Thanks, I just want everything to go smoothly today."

"You’ll be amazing, don’t worry," you reassured him, smoothing down the fabric of his suit jacket. "Now, go out there and show them what you’ve got."

Just as you finished, you turned around and froze. There, leaning casually against the door frame, was Jay, his eyes locked onto you. His expression was unreadable, but there was a flicker of something in his gaze—maybe curiosity, maybe something more.

Jungwon, unaware of the tension, flashed a quick smile at Jay before heading out to the event. The door clicked shut behind him, leaving you alone with your boyfriend.

You approached Jay with a smile, arms open, ready to hug him, but he remained still, his eyes still locked onto yours. As you got closer, he tilted his head slightly and spoke, “Wow, princess, don’t you think you’re babying him a bit too much lately?”

You couldn’t help but scoff, hitting his chest playfully. “Oh, come on, Jay. You baby him more than I do! And he’s literally the cutest, so you can’t blame me.”

Jay’s serious expression softened as he let out a small laugh, his arms finally wrapping around you, pulling you close. “Okay, okay, you’re right. He is the cutest. But…” he leaned down, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper, “remember, he’s my son, not yours.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Fine, I’ll try not to ‘baby’ him too much. But you’re not off the hook either, Mr. Overprotective.”

Jay grinned, tightening his hold on you. “Deal. Just don’t forget who your number one is.”

“I could never forget,” you murmured, leaning up to kiss him, the playful banter giving way to a tender moment. Jay’s initial jealousy was all but forgotten, replaced by the warmth of your shared love.

Sim jaeyun = 심재윤

You and Ni-ki were sitting on the floor of the living room, intense concentration written on both your faces as you played a competitive game. Ni-ki had been winning most of the rounds, as usual, but this time, against all odds, you managed to pull off a victory. The rare moment of defeat caught Ni-ki off guard, and he stared at the screen in disbelief.

You couldn’t resist ruffling his hair playfully, a grin spreading across your face. “Can’t win them all, Ni-ki,” you teased, enjoying the rare moment of triumph.

He pouted slightly but then shrugged it off with a smile, accepting his loss with grace. As you got up to grab some water, you turned around and spotted Jake standing in the doorway, his arms crossed and the biggest pout you’d ever seen on his face. If someone else saw him, they’d probably think you’d just taken away his favorite toy.

You walked over to him, trying to hold back a laugh at how dramatically upset he looked. “Jake, what’s wrong?” you asked softly, reaching out to touch his arm.

But instead of answering, Jake lowered his head in an exaggerated manner and began walking away, his steps slow and heavy as if he was carrying the weight of the world. That’s when it hit you—he was jealous. The realization made you burst out laughing, and you quickly followed him, your arms wide open, ready to pull him into a hug.

Jake, however, quickened his pace, determined to stay just out of reach. “Come on, you big baby, come here and let me take a look at you,” you called after him, your voice filled with amusement.

“No, go away from me,” Jake replied dramatically, glancing back at you with a hurt expression. “Go to Ni-ki and let me die because apparently, you hate me.”

You rolled your eyes, still laughing at his antics. “Oh, please, be for real, Jake.”

“Oh wow, so now it’s just Jake, okay,” he said, his tone even sadder, but you could see the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Not wanting to drag it out any longer, you finally caught up to him, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind. “You know I love you, right?” you whispered into his ear, clinging to him.

Jake let out a dramatic sigh but finally relented, turning in your arms to face you. “I guess I can forgive you… this time,” he mumbled, though his pout remained.

You grinned, standing on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Thank you, my big, jealous baby.”

He couldn’t help but smile at that, pulling you closer. But for the rest of the day, you noticed him sending death glares in Ni-ki’s direction whenever he thought you weren’t looking, making you shake your head and smile. Jealous Jake was something else, but you loved him for it.

Park sunghoon - 박성훈

You stepped into the dorm, the familiar sounds of the boys unwinding after practice filling the space. Your boyfriend, Sunghoon, had just come back with the rest of the group, and you were excited to see him. But before you even thought about greeting him, your concern was elsewhere.

Spotting Jake sitting on the couch with his leg propped up, you hurried over, worry etched across your face. “Oh my God, look at you! You look so bad. How’s your ankle now?” you asked in a baby voice, your eyes filled with concern as you kneeled beside him.

Jake gave you a sheepish smile, appreciating the attention. “It’s not too bad, really. Just a little sore.”

Before you could ask anything more, you felt a sudden tug on your hoodie. You barely had time to react before Sunghoon, his face a mix of annoyance and jealousy, pulled you away from Jake with a firm grip. His glare could have frozen over a volcano, and he didn’t say a word as he guided you to his room, closing the door behind you.

Once inside, he let go of your hoodie and crossed his arms, looking at you with narrowed eyes. “Seriously? The first thing you do when you get here is run to Jake? What about me?” he scolded, his voice a mix of frustration and hurt.

You bit your lip, trying to keep a straight face as he continued. “I’m your boyfriend, and I’ve barely seen you all day. And you—”

But as he kept talking, you realized you had other plans. He was adorable when he was upset, but he was also talking way too much. Without warning, you reached up, cupping his face in your hands, and pulled him down into a kiss.

Sunghoon’s words immediately died on his lips as he melted into the kiss, all his frustration evaporating in an instant. You felt him relax, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you closer.

When you finally pulled away, a small, satisfied smile played on your lips. “I’m here now, okay? And I’m all yours,” you whispered.

Sunghoon sighed, his expression softening as he leaned his forehead against yours. “You’re impossible, you know that?” he muttered, but there was no real anger in his voice anymore.

You chuckled, giving him another quick peck on the lips. “Yeah, but you love me anyway.”

He couldn’t argue with that, pulling you into his arms for a long, warm embrace. The earlier jealousy was forgotten, replaced by the comfort of having you there with him.

Kim sunoo - 김순우

You were sitting on the couch with Sunghoon, casually chatting about your day when he suddenly sighed and looked down at his stomach. “I think I’ve gained some weight recently,” he mumbled. “Maybe I should start dieting.”

The moment the words left his mouth, you instantly shifted into full-on mother mode. “Absolutely not!” you exclaimed, moving closer to him. “You don’t need to diet, Sunghoon. You’re perfect just the way you are.”

Ignoring his awkward chuckle, you gently grabbed his face, cupping his cheeks in your hands as you lectured him. “You need to eat well and take care of yourself. No more talk about dieting, okay? Promise me.”

Just as Sunghoon was about to respond, a loud, dramatic gasp echoed through the room. You turned to see Sunoo standing in the doorway, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open as if he’d just witnessed the most shocking betrayal. He looked at you with the ugliest side-eye he could muster, his expression full of exaggerated disbelief.

“Wow, Y/N, just wow,” Sunoo said, his voice dripping with melodrama as he turned away, clutching his chest like someone had stolen his most prized possession.

You blinked in surprise, realizing what this was about. “Oh, come on, Sunoo, don’t tell me you’re jealous,” you said, trying not to laugh.

But before you could explain further, Sunghoon, clearly not wanting to be caught in the middle of this, awkwardly excused himself and disappeared in a flash, leaving you to deal with Sunoo.

You got up and followed Sunoo, who had dramatically flopped onto the nearest chair, his back turned to you in mock offense. “Sunoo, you know I love you too, right?” you said, trying to coax him out of his sulk.

He glanced back at you, still pouting. “But you were babying Sunghoon. You’ve never babied me like that.”

You sighed, knowing you had to make it up to him. “Okay, fine. I’ll make it up to you. What do you want?”

Sunoo’s eyes lit up instantly, his pout disappearing as he turned to face you fully. “I want you to stay up all night and watch a K-drama with me. Of my choice.”

You groaned playfully, but there was no way you could say no to him. “Deal,” you agreed, rolling your eyes but smiling at the same time.

Sunoo beamed, his previous sulk completely forgotten. “Good! And you’d better not fall asleep halfway through,” he warned, wagging a finger at you.

You laughed, pulling him into a hug. “I won’t, I promise. But you owe me one next time.”

Sunoo grinned, snuggling into your embrace. “We’ll see about that.”

And so, as the night wore on, you found yourself curled up with Sunoo, binge-watching his favorite K-drama. It was a small price to pay to see him happy, and despite the tiredness creeping in, you couldn’t help but enjoy the moment.

Yang jungwon - 양중원

The day had been going well enough until Heeseung’s members decided to tease him mercilessly. They poked fun at him for being “hoe-less,” joking that he couldn’t even get a girl if he tried. It was all in good fun, but you could see the way Heeseung’s shoulders slumped just a little, the smile on his face not quite reaching his eyes.

You couldn’t stand seeing him like that. Without a second thought, you moved to sit beside him, wrapping your arms around him in a comforting hug. “Don’t listen to them,” you said softly, your voice full of affection. “You’re amazing, and any girl would be lucky to have you.”

Heeseung blushed, You continued to baby him, gently stroking his hair and showering him with compliments, doing everything you could to make him feel better because as much as you know his members meant it as a joke heeseung confident was getting bruised.

But as you did, you felt a pair of eyes boring into you. Glancing up, you saw Jungwon across the room, his gaze fixed on you with a look that could almost burn a hole through you. His expression was unreadable, but you could sense the tension in the air. For the rest of the time you spent with Heeseung, Jungwon didn’t say a word to you. He just watched, his eyes never leaving you.

Later that evening, you noticed that Jungwon was acting distant. He barely spoke to you, and when he did, it was brief and curt. The playful, affectionate Jungwon you were used to was nowhere to be found. When it was time for bed, he even skipped your usual goodnight kiss, which left you feeling hurt and confused.

Determined to fix whatever was wrong, you reached out and grabbed his hand, pulling him toward you. “Jungwon, what’s going on? You didn’t give me my goodnight kiss,” you said, your voice laced with concern.

But Jungwon just stubbornly turned his head away, refusing to meet your eyes. “It’s nothing,” he mumbled, but his tone said otherwise.

You sighed, feeling a pang of frustration. You tried tugging at his hand again, hoping he’d relent, but he remained stiff and unyielding. Finally, you gave up, feeling more hurt than ever, and turned over in bed, trying to ignore the heavy feeling in your chest.

Sleep didn’t come easy. Even as you drifted off, you found yourself mumbling his name, a soft plea for the closeness you were missing. Unbeknownst to you, Jungwon had been watching you the whole time, his heart twisting at the sight of you so vulnerable and longing for him.

Suddenly, any lingering frustration he felt melted away, replaced by an overwhelming urge to hold you close. Unable to resist, Jungwon leaned over and began covering your face with soft, rapid kisses, unable to stop himself from expressing just how much he adored you.

The sensation of his lips on your skin stirred you from your sleep, and you blinked up at him in surprise. “Jungwon?” you mumbled, still half-asleep.

He didn’t stop, pressing kisses all over your cheeks, your forehead, your nose, until you were fully awake and giggling beneath his affection. “I’m sorry,” he whispered between kisses. “I didn’t mean to be so distant. I was just… jealous, I guess.”

You smiled, reaching up to cup his cheek. “You know you don’t have to be jealous, right? You’re the only one I want.”

He finally stopped his assault of kisses, pulling you close and nuzzling into your neck. “I know. I’m sorry for being stubborn earlier.”

“It’s okay,” you murmured, running your fingers through his hair. “Just don’t shut me out again.”

He nodded, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, finally giving you the goodnight kiss you’d been waiting for. “I won’t. I promise.”

With that, you both settled down, tangled up in each other’s arms, and the rest of the night passed in peaceful, contented sleep.

Ni- ki -남편

You were lounging on the couch with Sunoo, scrolling through pictures on your phone from yesterday’s fan sign. As you came across a particularly adorable photo of him, you couldn’t help but gush. “Sunoo, look at this! You were so cute yesterday,” you exclaimed, showing him the picture. “I swear, you’re my bias!”

Sunoo giggled, clearly enjoying the praise. “Really? I was just being myself.”

“Well, your ‘just being yourself’ is enough to make everyone fall for you,” you continued, your voice full of affection. “You’re seriously the cutest, Sunoo.”

As you continued to shower him with compliments, you noticed a shift in the atmosphere. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Ni-ki sitting nearby, his expression growing darker by the second. He wasn’t saying anything, but you could practically feel the waves of jealousy radiating off him. His usual carefree demeanor had been replaced by a subtle sulk, his lips pressed into a thin line.

Realizing what was happening, you quickly tried to smooth things over. “But, of course, my absolute favorite is you, Ni-ki,” you said, turning your attention to him. “No one can compare to you.”

But Ni-ki was already deep into his jealous funk. He crossed his arms, avoiding your gaze, and mumbled something under his breath. You could tell he wasn’t going to be easily convinced, and it seemed like you’d have to work a bit harder to get back into his good graces.

You got up and walked over to him, kneeling in front of him so you could look up into his eyes. “Hey,” you said softly, reaching out to take his hand. “You know I love you, right? No one else could ever take your place.”

Ni-ki didn’t pull away, but he also didn’t respond. He just kept his eyes fixed on the floor, his expression unreadable. You sighed, realizing that this was going to take some serious effort.

For the rest of the day, you devoted yourself to babying Ni-ki. You followed him around, insisting on doing little things for him, like bringing him snacks, fluffing his pillows, and even giving him a back massage. Every time he tried to brush you off, you’d just smile and keep at it, determined to break through his jealousy.

At first, he resisted, remaining stubbornly distant. But as the hours passed, you could see his defenses slowly crumbling. He started responding to your efforts with small smiles, and eventually, he stopped resisting altogether.

By the time the evening rolled around, Ni-ki was finally starting to warm up to you again. He let out a long sigh as you sat beside him on the couch, leaning into you a little. “You’re really annoying, you know that?” he muttered, but there was no bite in his words.

You grinned, taking that as a sign that he was coming around. “Maybe, but you still love me,” you teased, nudging him playfully.

He rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

You leaned in, resting your head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry if I made you feel left out earlier. You’re always my number one, Ni-ki.”

He finally relented, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close. “Okay, fine. Just… don’t forget about me next time.”

“Never,” you promised, planting a kiss on his cheek. “You’re stuck with me forever.”

He chuckled, finally letting go of the last bit of his jealousy. “I guess I can live with that.”

The rest of the evening was spent in comfortable silence, with Ni-ki’s jealousy fully melted away. He was back to his usual self, and you were more than happy to have your playful, loving boyfriend back in your arms.

[makethemhoesmad]

love you till my lungs give out

paige bueckers x reader

word count- 2k(lord)

notes: this fic was such a great write for me, as it focuses around eating disorders, which is something i’ve personally struggled with. i know this is a sensitive topic, so please, if this makes you uncomfortable, scroll away, or read at your own risk.

thanks to: literally the biggest thanks ever to @melpthatsme for dming me your idea and helping me work through it, i really could not have done this without you, so everyone thank them

also thanks to @imaginespazzi and @bueckersstrap for reacting to my random messages about this

—

the first time it happened, i barely realized i did it.

“paigey, my head hurts so bad right now. like, im gonna die right here,” i groan, hiding my face in the fabric of her hoodie, trying to lock out any stray amounts of light coming from the covered windows. she runs her hand through my hair, and starts to ever-so-gently massage my temples. i sigh in quiet relief, and then she tries to pull me up to lay on top of her.

“uh uh, paige, no,” i say. i try to shake my head at her, but a bolt of pain flies through me, forcing my head back down.

“jus’ tryna help you get comfy, ma,” she whispers, bundling me up in a blanket and pulling me back into her side. she moves her warm hands up and under my t-shirt, but i squirm about, complaining that they’re too cold, even though i’ve never felt anything more soft and warm, so she moves them back over my shirt. but i don’t notice it, not really. and neither does she.

the second time, i know what i did.

“so, what should we order to eat?” paige asks, scrolling on her phone for different options. 

“mm, what if i cooked here, for something different! i can make you a grilled cheese,” i joke, nudging her arm with my shoulder. “that’s all i know how to cook anyway.”

she giggles, standing up with me and following me to the kitchen. she hoists herself onto the counter, and watches me intently as i pull out the things for a sandwich. i grin at her, moving to step in between her legs and take her face in my hands. 

“you’re so cute,” i say, pressing a kiss to her nose. she hops off of the counter and follows me to the stove. paige is just too sweet to me sometimes. i’m cooking dinner for her, the least i can do, really, and she’s cozied up behind me, arms around my waist her hands are barely touching, she can barely fit them around me and her chin is resting softly on my shoulder. she’s pressing light pecks to whatever area she can reach, and i feel at peace, in the kitchen, for a few moments. then it stops.

“why aren’t you making one for yourself baby?” she asks, spinning me around to lean me against the countertop, forgetting her sandwich beside her.

“i’m feeling, um, nauseous,” i stutter, stumbling over the excuse. she lets me go, though she looks skeptical.

“cmon, just have a bite of mine then. baby, you really need to eat more, that’s probably why you haven’t been feeling very well lately.”

i allow her to feed me a small bite, then quickly use my fingers to silently add that to whatever else i ate today. i read somewhere that to lose weight, you need to burn more calories that you eat. tomorrow, i need to burn around 800. Well, 804 now. 

the third time, i think paige noticed something was up.

“ma, this is literally the fourth time you’ve said that you’re cold. just take my fucking hoodie, i’m actually begging you,” she pleads, taking it off and offering it up to me. i shake my head, again, and press myself further into her chest, rubbing my arms to try and make the goosebumps disappear. she pulls me into her, then moves her mouth to my ear.

“is everything okay baby? do you wanna go home?” she whispers, nuzzling my neck with her nose. i shrug, not wanting to make her leave if she wasn’t done chatting with people yet. she makes the decision for me, standing up and tugging me with her. her hand finds its way to the small of my back, and she guides me towards the door. i sway slightly as we stand, blood rushing to my head. i take it as my lack of protein, or anything really, catching up to me. she stops walking, lurching to grab me by both shoulders and bend to eye level with me.

“darling, i want you to be honest with me. what have you eaten today?” i shake my head, feeling my cheeks going red at the thought of her confronting me. i look down, trying to avoid eye contact with her as my eyes fill with tears. she wraps me up into a hug, planting a kiss to the top of my head. she pulls me to the car and helps me in, then climbs into her own door, but makes no move to turn the car on. instead she pulls out her phone and asks me “so, where do you wanna stop and pick up food on our way home?” 

“paige, i’m really not that hungry, just tired and need to be with you in bed for the night. can we please just go home?” 

she nods, but looks at me skeptically out of the corner of her eye. she must know that all i’ve eaten today is half an energy drink and a piece of gum. i’ll eat something with her tomorrow, i guess. we can go out to lunch together and then when she goes to the gym ill go on a run. then she’ll see that im okay.

the fourth time, or probably the fifth or sixth, really, i don’t notice it, so i don’t think she does either.

“cmere pretty,” paige mumbles, reaching her arms out to me from where she’s laying on the bed. i slowly move to lay next to her, but roll away when she tries to take my sweater off.

“hey, baby, what?” she whines, apparently frustrated by the lack of contact.

“i wanna leave it on, paigey,” i tell her, moving my hand into the waistband of her shorts.

“but i wanna see you, please baby,” i don’t like saying no to her, but this is one thing i very rarely back down on.

“uh uh, sorry. lemme taste you, though,” i respond, moving to tug her shorts down.

“nah, come and sit on my face, cutie.” she smirks at her own words, but i’m not laughing. i scramble off the bed, standing up to black spots in my vision. i stand still, squeezing my eyes shut to get rid of the feeling. i stay there for im not sure how long, when i feel strong arms loop around my shoulders and help me onto the bed. paige helps me lay down, placing my head in her lap, then starts to comb through my hair with her fingers. she doesn’t say anything, and i’m grateful for that. obviously, she just thinks im tired. she knows im okay.

this time, im sure she noticed. it would be hard not to.

i’ve just come home from a run to the gym, dripping in sweat. it’s part of my new routine. i jog a mile and a half to the gym, i walk on a stairmaster or inclined treadmill there, then run home. normally i leave when paige leaves for practice, and come home just as she’s getting home, if not a little before so i can shower before she gets here. today, i must’ve done a little too much, because by the time i walk in the door, my head is spinning. i walk into the kitchen, sitting down at the island and resting my head in my hands, trying to clear my vision. i don’t hear when the door opens.

“baby, are you okay?” i hear. i sit up quickly, startled, then put my head back down immediately, because my vision goes nearly dark again.

“mhm, just tired you know? just got back from a run.” 

“you’ve got to take a rest day sometimes, darling,” she coos, taking my face into her hands and pressing a kiss to my nose. i nod, knowing i won’t do it.

sometimes i don’t realize it, but she knows exactly what to do.

i’ve just finished cooking dinner, just some simple spaghetti and a salad. i place her bowl of noodles in front of her, then settle down with my salad. when i stand up to get a glass of water, then come back, i can’t help but notice she’s switched our bowls.

“paigey, could i, possibly, maybe, have my bowl back?” i ask, trying to seem lighthearted.

“oh, yeah, sure,” she answers, sliding it back towards me. but when i try to slide hers back, she stops me. 

“nah, you eat that too. seems like you forgot to serve yourself noodles, so ill go make myself a new bowl.” she stands up, but i scramble in front of the stove quicker, blocking her way. 

“why would you do that, when i made you a whole bowl? eat it,” i tell her, pointing back to the countertop. she lunges at me, lifting me easily and placing me on the countertop. why would she pick me up? she definitely thought i was too heavy. i bet she leaves after this. she drags her my bowl over, twirls a few noodles onto the fork, and begins to prod my mouth with it. 

“cmon honey, just a bite. it’s not like it’s poison, you literally just cooked it,” she presses. i start to shake my head, so she moves the fork and instead swoops in for a kiss. i return her advances eagerly. hoping it distracts her. she moves her head down, pressing open mouthed kisses to my neck, and my mouth falls open. i don’t realize she’s noticed that until she’s setting the forkful of food between my lips and lightly closing them.

“it’s one bite, ma. let’s get it eaten, then you can be done.” i chew, not really having the choice to run and spit it out. once i swallow, she beams at me.

“such a good girl, baby. i’m so proud of you.”

at some point, she wins

“come here now, baby,” paige demands, grasping me by the waist and yanking me in front of her. i’d been about to climb into the shower when she spotted me through the bathroom mirror, stripped down to nothing. she’d grabbed me, pulled me into my room, and positioned us in front of the full-length mirror to the side.

“you see how perfect you are? how pretty?” she mumbles into my ear. i let my eyes flutter shut as she snakes her hand down my body, stopping to circle her finger over my clit. a groan slips out from my lips, and she stops.

“alright, i want you to keep on looking right in the mirror, ma. want you to see how perfectly you take my fingers.” i writhe against her, trying to keep my eyes open and hold myself up at the same time. she plunges three fingers into me. i cry out, locking eyes with her in the mirror, she smirks, the same way she always does when drawing a climax from me. i go boneless. if she hadn’t been holding me so tightly, i would be on the floor.

“now can you see how amazing you are? you don’t gotta change anything about you, i’ll love you no matter what. you should stop listening to what others say, because people that love you, like me, want you, no matter what you look like. i, personally, think you’re perfect. i’ll love you till the day my lungs give out, and even then, i’ll use my last breath to say it again.”

after that, it happens less often. some days, i still forget to eat, and some days even looking at a scale makes me want to throw up. but paige is always there. she’s always there to hold me, or help me eat just a little bit, or to help me lay down and relax after i’ve panicked so hard ive puked into the toilet. one day, looking at her from across the couch, i realize that when she told me she’d love me no matter what, she was telling the truth.

[shaisuki]

❝ PRETTY WHEN YOU CRY. ❞

✞ FEATURING. BULLY! GOJO SATORU AND GETO SUGURU

▶SERIES MASTERLIST

CONTENT WARNINGS. angst + blackmailing + name-calling + flashbacks

NOTES. i'm sorry if you're not being tagged, tumblr have a limit for tagging in a post. thank you all again for the comments.

SYNOPSIS. they meet you now after three grueling years and one thing's not changed. is that you still look pretty when you cry.

the chair make a scraping sound as you dragged it to make space for you to get up. standing, you were about to walk out but you stopped. their words and yours ringing through your ears. i'll think about it. that's the most stupid response you ever caught yourself saying. who were you kidding? yourself, maybe. what difference would it make with their words. what kind of making up they can do for you to bury it to puke.

you were too forgiving. that's why they abused you. that's why every tear drop is a smile to them. your pain is nothing to them. that every welts you have in your body, the bruises and the blood spilling when they bite too hard are feeding to their sadistic fantasies and when you got away from that, they've come back to haunt and wanting to reconcile for the damage they put you.

geto puts you the worst of it and gojo is just the same. the same men sharing at your table waiting for your answer. their faces brightening up when you said you'll think about it. what's to think about it when the damages been done and you're too broken to fix what they have done.

slowly, you turn around to meet them still sitting. “there's nothing to think about it.” you began.

their faces morphing into a shock and one you could not describe. “easy for you both to say about reconcilation and forgiveness when you put me through hell.” your voice trembles and you're afraid it would betray you to speak up.

“while you partied hard that night, i was laying in my supposedly death bed. i wished i died that night but i didn't, lucky right?” smiling mockingly, voice dripping with sarcasm and you giggle to yourself like you didn't understand you anymore and your voice died down.

“why did you have to put me in such misery, suguru... satoru?” you asked them, tears slowly dripping from your eyes without you realizing like the days where after they've fucked you, you find yourself staring in nothingness.

“it's because i am fat and ugly and either of you giving me attention will make me feel good about myself being desired? tell me, satoru, suguru. you two were always good with words, explain it to me.” you said it barely a whisper, your voice strained with resentment.

“it's my fault too, you know. i should have let you two released that video. me being called a slut by my peers and a disgrace to my family would be a temporary shame and maybe i won't be living in this eternal suffering and i would be out of your hair and you can't control me no more.” closing your eyes, more tears poured. letting out shaky breaths and you hate yourself for being so weak and stupid. you should have done that. a sex video being circulated online and having a scandal would take days, months top to die down and that was the easiest course for them to leave you alone. it would have ended your misery and you wouldn't be involved with them no more.

the younger them would have laugh at your situation. take pleasure at you crying and would have mocked you for being such a crybaby but this one is different. they were scum and as if they didn't change in the course of the years to take you lightly.

the sight of you crying should have brought them joy but it doesn't. instead with a feeling gnawing in their gut. heart being wringed from how tight it was being squeezed. since when they have learned to grasp this new found sensation of being able to recognize what you were feeling. was it the day when they see again after three years of agonizing wondering where you are and seeing you alive and well and this revelation of being burdened by the unsaid feelings that took you courage to tell them about it.

speechless you are when they took your voice and taught you to turn a blind eye to whatever they did to you and you see them for what they really are or you already have seen them a long ago but you can never speak of it. arrogant and selfish. condescending and sadistic. a touch of being merciful when they wanted it.

standing up from where they sat, without hesitation they approached you. suguru in front while satoru was in your behind. their arms being wrapped around your body. trapping you between their bodies.

“don't you touch me! you both disgust me!” a sob racked throughout your body. angered from how they think they could touch your freely like this. squirming as your fist reach suguru's chest. trying to break free from their grasp and just like the old days when they used to encased you with their bodies, your flight is proven to be useless. “let me go!” a pained gasp escaping from you.

a shiver went down through your spine. goosebumps rising all over your body. suguru's lips are in your ears. “i know. i know.” he whispers. “forget about us asking you to forgive us. you don't have to but let us prove you that i-we have changed. let us, please (y/n). that's all is ask of you.” that was a first you thought. you never heard suguru to be pleading to you when it was the opposite of it and you were the one who is pleading for the times back in college.

satoru's face are buried in the crook of your neck. “that's also what i ask, (y/n). please.” gojo murmurs and you blinked in many times. trying to process who the hell they are to asked you of this. “leave me alone and let me go!” but it wasn't that easy as their hold tightens on you like a boa constricting its prey the more it moves. “i'm sorry, we'll let go once you accepted it.” satoru told you.

sobbing you let out a faint yes before scrambling to get out from their hold. “i need to go now.” you said but suguru grabs your arms and you dared to meet his gaze and there's the purples of his eyes. once that you learned to love. your tears are reduced to droplets and suguru gently wipes it with his thumb. cupping your round cheeks stained with dried tears. “i need to go now.” you repeated and geto gathers the files you have brought for the meeting of your supposed client. stuffing it in your suitcase and you left without giving them a second look.

the doors opened for you and you left. bad habits don't die. when you find yourself troubled you let your feet think where will they bring you with your mind absent for any rational thinking and it only got you of tranced when your phone have been ringing for the past minutes.

you were too distracted to read who's the one calling you and without hesitation you pressed the call button. there's the voice in the other end of the line belonging to nanami. your confidant who helped you get through the worst happenings of your life.

“nanami?” your voice came as hoarse and then a sniffle following through. hearing your sniffles from the other line nanami already knows what you were feeling. “are you crying?” he asks and then there's a sniffle and a sob. he didn't know to ask further. “where are you?” there's a brief silence.

looking at your surroundings it looks like you were in a secluded part of tokyo. the greeneries are present and it was quiet too. “i-i don't know, nanami. i'm kind of lost.” you confessed to nanami and nanami sighs. “stay where you are.” he tells you and you replied with okay.

after describing your surroundings he finds you in a nearby shrine. “(y/n)?” he doesn't need to call you to know it was you. from your corporate attire hugging your plump body and that posture, he knows it is you. turning around he was never prepared to see you looking like you were back in the day where you lay in bed crying.

your voice crumbles and all the strength in your body left you upon seeing him. “what happened?” dropping his suit case without a care in the world to approach you. “i-i meet them.” your voice trembling and he does know who they are. his once concerned expression in his face turned cold upon hearing who you were implying. “did they touch?” cause if they did. jail would be a good place to cool his head. “yes but they wanted to reconcile with me.” you were distraught and nanami thinks how strong you are for standing up for yourself with your former bullies even in this form.

he didn't say another word and came holding you in his arms. your head pressed in his chest where you felt the safest cradled in his arms. his scent comforting you and that's where you cried. nanami doesn't mind of course. for you he would bleed himself dry.

too bad that you can't be with him.

“ah, here they are. the two idiots.” the brunette doctor they have been friends for years greeted them with mock enthusiasm.

“hey there, shoko.” gojo greeted her and shoko lights her cigarette.

“do what i owe you two to drag me in my precious break.” exhaling the fumes of her cigarette while looking at the distance.

they asked her to meet them in one of the places where they usually frequents. a cafe that have a balcony that overlooks the busy streets of tokyo.

“she's back, shoko. alive and well.” shoko raises a brow at them. not believing them for a second but the looks from their faces told her another story. “how you know that. i hope you didn't forced her to meet you two.” the two remained silent and shoko rolls her eyes. “damn assholes you two, classic shit you two pulled again. didn't learn your lesson.” she commented.

“we have to, shoko. she won't meet us.” gojo complains to her. this fucker acts like you forced him. there's no saving these two and shoko wonders how long since she's been putting with these two's bullshit. “how did it go?” she asked, watching as the smoke dissipates in the air.

“she was crying.” suguru replied to her. “that's it? cause if i was her you two wouldn't be leaving that room alive after what you've done to her. hadn't you ruined her life enough?” this is shoko and shoko ieri doesn't beat around the bush.

suguru chuckles. watching his reflection in his cup of tea. “harsh, shoko. we just wanted to patch things up.”

shoko paused. “patch things up? you're more stupid than what i think of.”

he smiles and suguru thinks of you earlier. close he is to you and all he can think is that face of yours. crying and that tears streaming down your face. sick he is for thinking but it sure dig some buried feelings. the softness of your body in his fingertips and hearing your voice again it made him sick. that he just wants you to be his again.

“any advice, sho?” satoru asks her out of the blue.

“my advice is to leave her alone. she doesn't need another reminder of you two.”

“she's working in my company.”

“ha-ha. deep shit you are. life seems you to bring you three closer huh?”

and shoko squashed the cigarette in the ash tray. “i won't meddle in this shit you two are digging. friends we are but you are crossing a line. leave her alone.” shoko warns them before glancing at her watch. “you're keeping me here longer and my break's about to finish. see you two again.” shoko left them. her white lab coat disappearing as she turned a corner.

satoru missed you. even forcing you to accepting the terms earlier it did gave him hope to get closer to you again. feel you and touch you without the stuff they been doing to you when they're young and stupid. it won't be easy. he knows that and what's his money and influence if he can't get you. he was willing to sacrifice things. just say the word and he's going to give it.

they all have one thing running in their minds that day and the days to come. you. it was only you.

TAGLIST. @missakward123 @lupitalove @i00bear @socialanxietyvictim @tourmalxine @labelt-san @ghostlyworld @kashxyou @chiiiiiiiiiiifuuuuuuuu @cute-sucker @skii-high @boyimjustaloserforyourlove @jossayuuu @bubblesandsand1-0 @ply4vnce @witchymermaid12 @luna-v-roiya @mariyumemi @sinfullygay @higurumapet @kvk6433gkcigv @s-j320 @bts-skz @imcreepininyourheartbabe @hazzelle-kento @cashcadaver @n1vi @kiruupon @vebbiewuzhere @its-princessmara @ssetsuka @unicornqueen05 @idkwhattfimdoinghere2 @sunnytyun @tomriddles-wh0re @ya-mamaaaaa @wateriswhatiam @red-writes @saltyladyflower @greyclouq @bahurani @lovayle @okayiamkassandra @sealikesushi @sanzuandmike @spicana @luvsymai @uniquenicefangirl @ushijimaschubbs @lansy-4 @aesonsgirl @eggieshiteru @jellibean2018 @uchihabucketlist @sunaemoby @cupidscourt @divinedolliebun @rottmntrulesall @mmeharuno @sleighter @haesify @desperadaparasapagmamhal @ichikanu @daytej @0honeylemonade

[str4wberrysw4n]

𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝟑𝐃 𝐎𝐅𝐅 𝐀 𝐏𝐄𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐋!! + 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐃𝐎 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐃 🧁

i don't want to give out too much info, but i have a friend who doesn't come to school very often. she's absent for majority of the week or comes late so i barely get to see her. today, she didn't come and she hadn't come the day before. most of the time, i try to text her to see if she'll respond, but today i thought to myself "why am i upset she isn't at school? besides it doesn't matter to me. I would like for her to be here but it's not a big deal if she isn't." so after 2nd period, we meet up at the stairs so we can walk to class. when she's not here, i wait for her just in case she came late or smth. this time, i simply walked upstairs. smth was telling me that my friend would be here somehow, but i ignored it.

imagine my surprise when i sat down, looked to my right, and saw her sitting down in the flesh. just there. i was shocked.

now, ik this might not seem like a manifestation (spoiler alert: I count it as one) unless u knew how i would affirm for her to come to school only to not get results. i consider her one of my best friends and school isn't the same without her. it was frustrating that the results would only come days later, yet the moment i said i didn't care, it came to me. why?

imo, the key was that I didn't put it on a pedestal. I told myself "I would LIKE for her to come, but it's not a BIG DEAL if she doesn't." i used this not only bcuz it happened at the time im writing this, but bcuz it's a perfect example of how taking ur manifestations off a pedestal helps.

imagine being a king/queen. u have literally everything u desire with the snap of ur fingers. u control everyone and everything around u. but then, u want something that u don't have in the 3d. u have it the 4d, but YOU don't see it bcuz ur eyes are only honed in on the physical world. all of a sudden, u put this object of desire,that u ALREADY have, ABOVE u. it's what u need or else u'll practically fall and break into thousands of pieces. doesn't make any sense, right? well that's literally how it is when u put ur manifestation on such a high pedestal.

YOU are the prize. YOU should be the one placed on the pedestal and stay on it. ik it's hard, especially when there's no evidence of the 3d showing u that -- but it's true. that's why when u care so much abt a manifestation, u are quite literally taking urself off and putting something way less important on there. it's hard to accept that, bcuz society has literally told us that some people are better than others. those who feed into money, fame, "above average" beauty, concepts that only exist in the 3d. but the truth is being tied down to thoughts like that will only make things harder for u.

I'm not saying u shouldn't try to manifest concepts that we know from the 3d -- almost everyone is. I would be a hypocrite to say that when im literally trying to manifest clothes rn lol. im saying that u should stop thinking of those concepts as "impossible" or "out of ur league", bcuz unless u say so, YOU are the standard. stuff like that will only drag u down into the illusion of the 3d.

to sum it up, stop putting the 3d on a pedestal and put urself on there!! when ur able to detach and no longer depend on ur manifestation coming through, it helps it pass through ur 4d level of consciousness and materialize into the 3d. someone with everything doesn't cry abt something they ASSUME they don't have. now, u might be asking: "what do i do if i can't get my mind off it?" i know all too well that this task is easier said than done, so i wanted to help!! :3 these r just some general hobbies u can do instead of obsessing over manifestations!!

🎀 drawing or some form of art

🎀 self care day

🎀 baking

🎀 studying

🎀clean ur room

🎀 text/face time ur friends

🎀 window shopping (my fav lol)

🎀 read a book

🎀 indulge in one of ur own personal hobbies

these r just some of the things that i do when i find myself stressed with a manifestation!! as always, this is all imo, and im just trying my best to help!! happy manifesting ╰(✿´⌣`✿)╯♡

[andy-15-07]

Could you please write a pedro pascal x reader, where the reader has the flu/fever and she's acting like she's fine and Pedro takes care of her even if he's a terrible cook? 🥺

Flu Season with Pedro

PAIRING:Pedro Pascal x reader

WORD COUNT: 654| requests are open (send requests, I will gladly answer them all)

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

Pedro had been watching you like a hawk all day.

It started when you woke up with a slight sniffle, your forehead warm to the touch, but you brushed it off, claiming it was nothing. He wasn’t buying it.

“You’re sick,” Pedro stated firmly, arms crossed as he leaned against the kitchen counter.

“I’m fine,” you replied, waving a dismissive hand as you sipped on some lukewarm tea.

Pedro narrowed his eyes. “You’re literally sweating and shivering at the same time. That’s not fine, sweetheart.”

You rolled your eyes, attempting to stand up and make your way to the couch, but the moment you did, your vision blurred, and you wobbled slightly. Pedro was by your side in an instant, steady hands on your waist.

“See? Not fine,” he murmured, his brows knitting together in concern.

You sighed, leaning into him just a little, your body betraying you. “Okay… maybe a tiny bit not fine.”

Pedro let out a soft chuckle and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “C’mon, let’s get you back to bed.”

You groaned. “Nooo, I wanna be on the couch. I’ll be bored in bed.”

“You’ll be bored wherever you are because you feel like shit,” he pointed out. “At least let me make you something to eat.”

That made you perk up, but not for the reason he’d hoped. “Oh no,” you said, deadpan. “Pedro, last time you ‘cooked,’ you almost set the kitchen on fire.”

Pedro scoffed, placing a hand on his chest in mock offense. “That was one time.”

“It was last week.”

“Details,” he muttered, guiding you toward the couch anyway. “Now, sit. I’m making you soup.”

You opened your mouth to protest but gave up. Your body was too exhausted to argue, and honestly, the thought of him fussing over you was kind of sweet.

From your spot on the couch, you watched as Pedro banged around in the kitchen, muttering to himself. He read the back of the soup can like it held ancient secrets, turned the stove on with the careful precision of a bomb expert, and nearly dropped the pot twice. You couldn’t help but laugh, weak as it was.

“This is very stressful,” he called out. “How do people just… cook?”

“Some would argue that soup from a can isn’t really cooking.”

Pedro shot you a playful glare before dramatically stirring the contents of the pot. “You’re lucky I love you,” he grumbled.

You smiled, watching him struggle but knowing his heart was in the right place. “I know.”

Eventually, after a few more mishaps (including but not limited to nearly adding sugar instead of salt), Pedro approached you with a steaming bowl of soup. He sat beside you, carefully blowing on a spoonful before holding it up to your lips.

“Alright, open up,” he instructed.

You quirked an eyebrow. “Pedro, I can feed myself.”

“Oh, I know,” he said with a smirk. “But I’m already in caretaker mode. Let me have this.”

You sighed dramatically before obliging, letting him feed you. The soup was… well, edible. Barely. But the way he was looking at you, all warm brown eyes and soft smiles, made it taste a little better.

After a few spoonfuls, you leaned back against him, exhaustion creeping in. Pedro immediately wrapped his arms around you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“You know,” he murmured against your hair, “I hate seeing you sick.”

You nestled closer, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. “I know. But you taking care of me almost makes it worth it.”

Pedro chuckled, his chest vibrating against your back. “Almost?”

You hummed sleepily. ���If the soup was better, maybe.”

“Rude,” he whispered, kissing your temple. “Go to sleep, troublemaker.”

You closed your eyes, a small smile tugging at your lips. With Pedro holding you, whispering soft reassurances, you let yourself drift off, knowing you were in the best hands.

[paddlescuddlesbubblesgurgles]

Full

I can hardly breath. My stomach hurts. I’m so full. I ate too much. I cannot imagine getting up from the couch. My belly weighs me down. I feel so groggy. 

I have to focus on my breathing. I’m so thoroughly beached all I can do is cradle my fat, blubbery gut spread over my lap. It’s dominating my evenings recently. It demands I feed it until I can’t think straight. 

I am sitting upright, in a sluggish daze. I’m too full to lay down comfortably, but so, so exhausted. It’s taking all my energy to just digest all this food, and breathe correctly. Burps keep escaping my lips. Every time I press out more air, I get a momentary relief. I’m so swollen, so bloated, so distended. I’m completely overladen with delicious food. So totally engorged with my failed restraint. 

I keep fantasizing about eating more cookies. Today I added about 32 soft baked cookies of various kinds to my evening feeding. I ate so many I lost count, but some still remain on the table in front of me. But that table is so, so, so far away. 

Leaning forward feels impossible. I still probably couldn’t reach. I just can’t reach past my belly right now. I keep trying to talk myself into moving. Just standing up and getting my cookies. Just a little effort. But I’m too heavy. Much too heavy now.

I keep sipping my drink. I can barely reach it, and it’s running out. I’m thirsty, but I also need to be sure I fill all remaining space. That’s what my belly requires, after all. 

My belly is so warm, and so squishy. It’s like I have a personal pillow attached at all times. A giant, soft, jiggly beanbag just hanging over my waistband, or between my legs, or into sinks. It feels so good when I lift it up and it completely overfills my arms. It spills over my forearms and flops over my hands as I hold the meaty underside. I love bouncing it up and down, and letting it drop. I love how I have a deep, plunging overhang and a thick upper roll beneath my tits. I love how said roll is one of many that are piled up on my sides and connected around to my back. 

My entire torso is covered in a hefty, thick, sagging layer of fat. I’m a butterball, a tub of lard, a fleshy sack of dough. It encases me, buries me, crushes me. It’s no small part of why I’m pinned to this couch. 

I’ve outgrown tape measures, seat belts, booths, and many shirts. All thanks to this gluttonous, greedy, grotesquely overfed gut. It’s in control. I’m just carrying it to its next meal. I’m just making sure the food gets where it needs to go.

It needs to be so much bigger.

[just-another-bite]

First time going over to someone's house on a date and they have me sit at the corner of their couch, telling me to wait and that they'll be right back. I oblige, waiting patiently, only to be met with the sight of them walking back into the room balancing sheet cakes on trays in their arms. They set them down on the table and say they'll be back. I'm already sweating a bit, seeing the two cakes slathered in frosting, but they return a moment later again, this time with platters of donuts. They sit down in front of me on the couch as I lean back against the arm and smile as they cut the first slice of cake and bring it to my lips. I allow them to feed me, chewing quickly as I see them already cutting the next slice. The pace continues like this, rapidly swallowing so I'm almost unaware of the tightening of my gut as I fill it with sugar-loaded frosting and cake that sits like a brick at the bottom of my belly.

When I reach down to rub my stomach, I'm interrupted by them pushing a slice into my own hand as they declare "it'll go faster this way" and I nod cautiously. Pushing two slices into my mouth is a challenge as I whine around the food, feeling my pants squeezing my growing gut as I fumble to unbutton them, frosting slathered fingers leaving a trail across my taut skin as my shirt rides up. I have to lean back to try and settle my straining belly now but the pace doesn't slow. They continue feeding me, one arm on the arm of the couch so they can nearly cage me in with each bite they eagerly offer to me. I hear my stomach gurgle and groan as the pressure builds in my guts. They start to rub my stomach between bites, reassuring me how good I'm doing as the dome of my belly grows.

When we're to the donuts, I look nearly pregnant, a tightly packed ball of fat that was covered in stretch marks along the underside. My date seems unperturbed and moves the donut platter closer now. These go down harder, cream spilling onto my lips when I bite into them, landing on my shirt that's seeming more like a crop top with each bite. When I whine, I feel my stomach rumble and I'm genuinely unsure of how much more I can take. Chew, swallow, chew, swallow, I must be on auto-pilot at this point as I barely register food being brought to my lips, just the strain in my gut.

By the time we've run out of donuts, my pants aren't just unbuttoned. The sides are split. My shirt isn't just rolled up. We can't pull it down.

As I lay there, I can barely see over my distended gut but I can feel them rubbing it, shaking it gently or kissing the underside as they tell my how good I did. We struggle for a while to get me to sit up, but when I eventually do, I can see the true mess of myself I've made. A bloated gut of immense size that doesn't seem to be going anywhere. I rest my arm on it cautiously, feeling how little give it has. My date made sure it was packed tight.

First impressions are important, and this one was certainly good

[rebelspykatie]

The Gift That Keeps on Giving - Part 3

AO3 | Part 1 | Part 2

Eddie and Robin, and maybe even the security guard, can likely hear how loud his heart is beating in his chest. He says it with such conviction, hoping that Eddie will know why he’s here, why he came despite his cryptic sign off. 

Eddie’s eyes close and he takes a deep breath. “Did I ruin everything?” He skates a hand through his already tousled hair. “I knew I was coming on too strong. Kept reminding myself you had a boyfriend, but my dumb heart didn’t seem to care.” He puts a hand on his chest and leans further into the doorframe in a mock swoon. 

Despite the dramatics, those big doe eyes stare nervously back at him. “You did ruin everything.” Eddie winces. “But he ruined it worse…or we both ruined it? It doesn’t matter. It’s over.”

Robin snorts. “What he’s trying to say is that idiot was a cheating bastard, but it didn’t matter because Steve was already halfway in love with you when he found out.” 

“Robin,” Steve whines and nudges her with his hip. She nudges back and gives him a pointed look.

“That asshole cheated on you? After everything you did for him?” Eddie’s riled up now, pushing off the doorframe, chest puffed up like a lion ready to pounce. 

“Alright, down tiger,” Robin pats his shoulder, holding him in place. “They were both over it. No harm done.” She steps back and looks at Steve with that knowing smile that he both loves and fears. “Besides, did you miss the halfway in love with you part?” 

Eddie sputters for a minute while Steve tries not to sink down into the floor from embarrassment. “N-no,” he shakes his head, his tangled mess of hair a flurry of movement, “I did not miss that. And I will address that, but,” and he looks at Steve now with an intensity that he knows all too well from watching his music videos, “are you alright?”

“I’m fine, Eddie.” Steve shuffles a bit closer. “By the end, we were barely talking. I was so consumed with messaging you, I forgot why I started it all in the first place. I pushed him away and into someone else’s bed, but it didn’t matter.” He pauses and looks down at his feet, toeing at the floor with his sneaker. “Do you know what I felt when I caught him in bed with someone else?” 

When Steve looks up, Eddie’s just patiently waiting for an answer, even though his lips are twitching like he desperately wants to make a snide comment. 

“Relief,” and the same feeling washes over him saying it now. “I was so torn up about how into you I was and how much I ignored him. And then the tickets show up after I wrote you off and tried to forget about you. But you still did that for me, even after I just walked away with no explanation.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, sweetheart,” Eddie insists. “You don’t owe me anything.”

“No, I did. I do. Because all I could think about at the end was you. And even when I tried to stop, you were everywhere. We hadn’t even met, but you were in my car when I turned the stereo on. In my bed when I wanted to doom scroll at night and your picture popped up first on my feed. On my tv when I pulled up youtube because I’ve watched every music video hundreds of times. I couldn’t get you out of my head.”

“I am pretty annoying like that.” Eddie smirks. 

“I didn’t know those tickets would bring us back here to you. I just wanted to see you on stage and get a taste of what I was seeing through my screen. I had no idea that I would have an opportunity to tell you any of this. But, thank you. You didn’t have to help or respond.”

“I’m glad I did.” There’s a dopey grin on his face now. It lights up every corner, and Steve wants to stay here and memorize every laugh line and the curve of his lips. It’s all he can do to keep his hands to himself and not launch himself at Eddie right here. 

“Can you guys kiss and make this official now?” Sometime in the last minute, Robin has taken out her phone and she’s holding it up to record them. “How much do you think I can sell this for? Can you put on the hat before you do, really sell it? Oooh, is there mistletoe somewhere? This hallway is really not selling the vibe.” 

Steve bats the phone out of view while Robin cackles. “This is not about vibes! Don’t you dare post that online, Rob.” 

She backs away and tries to hide behind the security guard stationed beside Eddie’s door. He looks like he’s trying not to get involved, but he’s doing a poor job at hiding his amusement.  

“Et tu, Hopper?” Eddie asks, poking the guy in a meaty bicep. 

“Serves you right, Munson.” 

Robin fist bumps Hopper now that she’s got him on her side. “I’ll give you a cut of the profit.”

Part 4

[madridfangirl]

A Weekend in Ibiza - Part 2

(Jude Bellingham blurb)

(Part 1, Part 3, Part 4)

2.6k words. Jude*female reader. Suggestive language.

A/n - When we don't get Jude holiday content, we make shit up

.............................................................................

The cold shower calmed your nerves and cleared your head. The fog lifted from the brain, replaced with fury. 

That fucker, that assholic fucker, really thought he could play you like this? Just waltz into your peaceful space & bend you to his will?

What a sad, little life he lived if that’s the kind of people he was surrounded with. 

Oh, you were gonna show him his place. Real good.

What you did next shocked you. But propriety had gone out of the window the moment he turned this into a battle of wits, dragging you in as an unwilling participant.

Jude was done with Round 2 & was lounging on the deck when he heard his spare phone buzz. He lazily felt around the surface for his waist bag, too blissed out to move. The naked woman lying half on top of him, feeding him grapes was a factor too.

What he saw made him rub his eyes & sit upright. The woman whined at the interruption, which he barely registered.

‘Naa I am busy. Going snorkelling with this one.’ 

Attached was the back image of a man. A big, well built, shirtless, heavily muscular, glossy skinned, wet man. A surfer’s body. 

‘And who is he?’

‘Met him on the beach just now. Said he wanted to show me a few things. Am gonna let him.’

That was a sucker punch to the gut that he didn’t see coming.

‘You are bluffing.’

‘Yeah? Want me to send you a pic after? Don’t think we’ll find a bed but a remote island maybe?’

He called you. Disconnected in the first ring. He called again. Same result.

‘Don’t do this. It’s not safe.’

‘I am a big girl, I can handle myself.’

‘What happened to the no casual sex policy?’

‘A girl can change her mind. CERTAINLY for a guy like that.’

‘Rubbish - he looks OLD.’

‘Word you are looking for is experienced. A MAN, not some little boy fresh out of his teens.’

‘Look, I’ll stop if you stop.’

‘Never asked you to stop. Never asked you for ANYTHING. Infact, I explicitly told you to go with the woman throwing herself at you.’

‘HE WONT KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH YOU.’

‘I’ll find out soon, won’t I? Hope he likes my new swimsuit.’

Jude resisted the urge to throw his phone in the water. The woman looked at him curiously as he paced around the deck.

Confrontation wasn’t helping his case, so he changed tact.

‘Listen, we got off on a non-ideal note. I can see that. But we can talk this through. I’ll come back right now, yeah? Just give me like 15 mins.’

‘1) The world does not revolve around you 2) Actions have consequences 3) Chris is waiting & I am going to him now. Will be MIA for a few hours. Bye.’

Jude called again. You didn’t pick up. He left one final, desperate message.

‘Please don’t do this. I am sorry. You can get back at me in other ways. Please.’

You smiled victoriously as you looked at his plea. Two please and a sorry in one sentence. Ergo, mission accomplished. Who knew a picture of Chris Hemsworth in your gallery would come in so handy one day. Oh, the benefits of thirsting.

Putting your phone on airplane mode (to let him stew further), you got under the covers, still in your bathrobe, and drifted off to a peaceful afternoon nap.

Complete contradiction to his state.

Jude was struggling to wrap his head around what just happened. And why it was bothering him so much. He stripped to his briefs and jumped in the cool, crystal blue water. To erase the images plaguing his mind. Of you in your swimsuit. Of you and that horny geriatric fucker.

At one point he even looked around the water, trying to look for the snorkelling spots. Then cursed himself for being reduced to that. 

The current was brisk, numbing him enough to think straight. All wasn’t lost. Not yet. He just needed to come up with a better move. A different move. Coz you were different, it had been well established. The rebuttal did bruise his ego, he admitted to himself, but he was still sure he wasn’t wrong in sensing your attraction. It just needed the right nudge to bring you to him.

He emerged from the water, enthused again, and the woman rushed to him, offering to help him de stress & unwind from whatever was bothering him. Jude was never gonna pass up on a quick head in the loo. As he thrusted into her mouth, he found himself wishing it to be you.

If only you had been that easy. But then, the chase won’t be as fun, the anticipation not as deep. Plus he was certain your affections couldn’t be gained from fame, money or expensive gifts. You’d probably throw them in his face if he attempted that. 

He wondered if things would be different if you knew who he was. That there was a different side to him too. An idea struck him then, right at the peak of his orgasm.

You woke up after 3 long blissful hours, stretching your limbs, still burrowed under the covers, and put your phone off airplane mode.

One message from him, from an hour ago.

‘Atleast tell me you are back safely.’

The change in tone did not go unnoticed and you figured this merited a response. 

‘Just got done. Exhausted. Gonna sleep it off now.’

Letting the innuendo hang in the air, you ordered your evening cappuccino & croissant, enjoying them in your private balcony overlooking the waters. And played your favourite music, as you watched the evening sun cast patterns in the sky. Splurging for this room was turning out to be a great decision after all.

Curiosity got the better of you then, and you succumbed to googling him, to know more about this ridiculous/ridiculously handsome creature.

When you looked, you prayed you hadn’t. The guy wasn’t just atrociously hot, but he was many other things. Damn good at his day job (excellence at work was your primary turn-on). Well spoken & articulate (wtf happened to him today then?). Wholesome with his family (your number 2 turn-on). Unbelievably amazing with kids (you could jump from the balcony right now with the number of boxes he was ticking). And just generally affable & affectionate to everyone around.

You scrolled & scrolled through countless reels, & wondered which was the real him. The dickhead he was this morning or this angelic creature loved by all & sundry? Everyone seemed to swear by him. Did you catch him on a bad day then? Or was this a carefully crafted public persona to fool the world?

You kept going back to that one video with kids, which was melting your insides. 

That, and another one with him being abrasive on the pitch, picking up fights. Some would have called it cocky, and it was, but it was also inexplicably hot? Knee-wobbling hot? It was the same cockiness he had this morning but that had put you off. This video, though, was making your head spin. Giving him a power you never wished for him to have over you. And his body, oh god that body, plus the way he carried that attitude. 

You quickly threw the phone away, hoping you weren’t in too deep already. Consciously reminding yourself what an entitled prick he had been and how furious it had made you.

Needing an immediate distraction, you called home & listened to your 4 year old nephew babble for a good 30 mins. And your mom telling you all the news from back home for another 30 mins. 

Dinner was the next distraction. You took your time in picking a delicacy, settled on paella, a glass of wine and put on a comfort movie on Netflix as you enjoyed your dinner in bed. For some reason, you were avoiding going outside.

It was 10 pm, the sun had finally set making it feel like night time. No more messages from him since the last one to check on you. Which was a good thing. Which is what you wanted. Right? 

Yes, of course. Finally you were rid of him. He must be out, doing something, or someone. Far far away from you.

A quick look at his Insta won’t hurt, would it? It would just confirm his whereabouts, so you can finally be at peace, away from him.

One new post. From 2 hours ago. Captioned ‘Making memories’. A bunch of pics from his day - sunbathing at the yacht, lunch with friends, frolicking in the water & sun-set. Carefully avoiding any hint of the women she knew were a part of his entourage. Just the guy friends made it to post, making you roll your eyes loudly.

When you reached the last pic though, you did a double take. For the second time today, the glass nearly dropped from your hands.

The pic had a glass of wine, and a tissue paper next to it. You could tell it was the same tissue they had used to exchange notes - it was in a blurred background, difficult to spot for others but you could make out your handwriting. And his.

Tagged to it was a song - Can’t we start over again.

You questioned your grip on reality as you read the lyrics of the song.

I know I’ve caused you pain.

Took you for granted.

I’ve been such a fool.

Can’t we start over again?

What the holy fuck was this? What in the name of god was he playing at?

Half-mad, half dazed, you quickly dialled his number. It rang & rang for eternity, he picked up on the last ring.

‘Missed me?’

It just hit you that you were hearing his voice for the first time. It was deeper & huskier than you had imagined. But you quickly regained control of the situation.

‘Are you mad? Are you totally completely mad?’

‘Saw the post, huh?’

‘Damn right I did. Seriously, what were you thinking? What if your horde of fans put two & two together? What if people start assembling here to inquire? God, what if people find that waiter? Jude, what did you do?’

You started to hyperventilate, pacing around the room.

‘Ok. Take a deep breath & listen to me, yeah? No one knows we are talking, not even my friends. The waiter I tipped handsomely to forget about what happened. The note is blurred, no one can make out what’s written other than you & me. All others will see is just a glass of wine on a holiday. And a reminiscing song which can be for anyone. Or maybe they’ll think I am drunk. There is zero way to trace it back to you. Heck, even I don’t know your name yet. So relax. I won’t compromise your privacy when you made it clear how important that was to you.’

His soothing voice, coupled with unassailable logic, calmed you instantly. You could almost laugh at how you had overreacted. Almost. You weren’t gonna tell him that.

‘Are you with me?’

‘Umm yeah, guess you are right.’

You could hear music blaring in the background. He must be out partying at some club when you rudely interrupted him. You were about to ask him to go back to what he was doing before he chimed in.

‘So, did you have fun today?’

You rolled your eyes at his roundabout attempt to ask what he really wanted to ask. Well, two can play this game.

‘Oh yeah. Great day, super relaxing, after a long time.’

‘Ended too quickly, no?’

‘Excuse me?’

‘Well, if you were with me, no way we would be done in just 3 hours. No way you would be alone tonight, checking out another man online.’

He had just shown you how you were an amateur in the game he was a pro in. Honestly, you hadn’t even anticipated this line of thought. But clearly he had. In the same way he knew you would check him out online. Damn him, to the moon & back.

‘Told you he looked geriatric. Did he even…?’

‘Shut up. Shut the fuck up. Not another word on this.’

Your breath was laboured by now. What gave you solace was that his was ragged at the other end too. He wasn’t unaffected either. Both were silent for a bit. He broke it eventually. 

‘I meant what I said in the post. Shouldn’t have done what I did. Not to you. Wasn’t really thinking straight.’

‘Not to ANYONE.’

He had the good sense to stay quiet and not point out that it worked with others.

‘Yes. Can we get past it? I feel like I have been rejected enough for one day.’

You couldn’t stop yourself from chuckling, & he caught the shift in your mood.

‘Maybe.’

Now that was a window he didn’t think he was gonna get. And was extremely pleased with himself for getting here.

‘I’ll take that. Now, you know damn well I want you. And I know you are thinking about me too. Don’t start denying it, that wasn’t a question. Why are you fighting this, baby?’

Again he was cutting straight to the chase. This time though, it didn’t annoy you. It made you nervous, as you twisted & turned in your bed.

‘I told you why.’

You said softly, surprised at the tone of your voice.

‘Let me come over there & change your mind.’

‘I..I don’t know, Jude.’

He gripped a nearby pole harshly at the way his name sounded in your voice. 

‘Tell me, do I make you nervous?’

The accent was thicker now, making him even sexier. Making you bury your head in the pillow.

‘The situation makes me nervous.’

‘But me too?’

A pregnant pause. Then, a faint whisper.

‘Yes.’

‘I won’t do anything you aren’t ready for - trust me. Heck, knowing you, you’d probably kick me out naked if I try anything like that.’

You sighed into the pillow, and had no idea what these sounds were doing to him.

‘Aren’t you curious? Haven’t you pictured us together in bed, naked & wrapped around each other? Coz that’s all I have been doing since morning.’

‘Jude….please..’

‘Think of it as an adventure, yeah? A weekend in Ibiza that both of us would remember. We are wasting precious time, baby girl. Please, just please let me come to you right now & show you a good time.’

He had laid all his cards on the table, and waited for your response. Like it was judgement day.

You breathed heavily into the pillow, as you arrived at your decision.

‘Not tonight.’

‘WHAT?’

‘Not tonight.’

You could hear him breathe raggedly at the other end.

‘So, tomorrow then?’

‘I…don’t know, not yet.’

‘You are seriously gonna leave me hanging like this?’

‘I am sure you can find ways to distract & humour yourself in the meantime.’

More heavy breathing from him.

‘Are you a professional torturer of some kind? If not, you are in the wrong line.’

‘Thanks for the suggestion, I will think about it. Now, go back to your party.’

‘HANG ON. Are you for real?’

‘Very much. Now, be a good boy & let me think, yes? Bye, Jude.’

You blew a kiss into the phone & disconnected it, leaving him squirming & stunned at the other end.

................................................................................................

Hoping and praying this delivered the tension & takedown you all so vociferously wanted :))

There will be a Part 3 and I swear it will have smut 😂

Feel free to drop in your asks / suggestions for the next chapter - I moulded this chapter on the overwhelming sentiment in the asks :)

[usedpidemo]

More than you know (Nmixx Haewon)

“Miss Haewon, please see me after class hours later. I would like to talk to you.”

There it is. A rather predictable bookend to another dull lecture. She saw it coming from the moment she walked into the classroom. 

She absolutely loathes hearing it. 

Despite the comically indignant scowl she shoots you on the way out—and the mocking jeers from her friends that elicit embarrassment—by the time the final bell rings, she couldn’t wait to see you later on.

You’re excited, too—but for all the wrong reasons. 

She’s the only thing keeping your passion for teaching alive.

—————

For the record, Haewon is not a bad student, not in the slightest. If anything, she’s par for the course. She’s not gonna be some summa cum laude, but she isn’t a sorry case, either. And that’s been the pattern with your students for years. They only care enough just to get by. Haewon is the most clear-cut example you can refer to.

Based on the rather intriguing stares she shoots at you, you’d be tricked into believing she’s actually interested enough in improving her future performance in class. Peeking through the laptop, catching glimpses of everyone’s grades. Her name is highlighted on the document, and the scores consist primarily of mid-eighties with some low-nineties. Clearly she’s nowhere close to a flunk or a future dropout. 

Better than the high seventies and low eighties that the rest of your class averages.

“Sir, how many times do we need to go over this. I’m doing well for myself,” she remarks, giving you a look that says I told you so. The evidence is right in front of you, written in bold. “C’mon sir. Just let me go early today.”

And that’s when you make your first of many mistakes—feeding her the attention she craves. Where’s this energy when it comes to your lectures, you wonder?

Before you even entertain the thought, the scene has already gone completely sideways. Here’s a student with zero regard for following rules, and you’ve experienced your fair share of troublemakers. She’s sitting on the desk, pale skin in plain view from the off shoulder cropped sweatshirt that barely qualifies for the dress code. You’re looking—and she’s keenly noticing. 

“Maybe another time, sir?” Haewon reads your mind like an open book. She’s purposely dressing improperly for two reasons: to piss off the higher-ups who hate her guts, and to make it easier for you to rip through her clothes. “I’ve got dance practice with the theater girls and I’m running late.”

“Well for one, you can drop the honorifics,” you reply, plainly, in a particularly weak effort to change the conversation. The attention you give her is short-lived; your focus returns to the unanswered emails and grades you need to fill. “Class hours are done for the day.”

It’s evidently not the response she wanted, because her arms are crossed and she’s pouting. You have to admit, she looks cute acting like that, revealing clothes be damned.

“Sir.” Haewon drawls out into a groan, bothered by the monotony of waiting when she has places to be. She won’t go as far as to knock your laptop down, but she’s considering it as a last resort. “You’re being a bitch right now.”

Anyone else in her position would get it—a verbal lashing that would get your teaching license rescinded and take you to court, but Haewon is the epitome of getting away with murder. You have no idea how she does it—how she manages to escape mostly unscathed from punishment. Even now while you drum on the keyboard, because you’re allowing her to call you a bitch without consequence. 

Maybe because you like her more than you would openly admit.

She sighs. It’s a defeatist tone. A few moments later, you close your laptop and she perks up.

“Take a seat. I do want to talk to you about something important,” you tell her, knowing one hundred percent certain she’s not getting off your desk. 

Haewon can’t help herself to a snarky comment. “Damn. Finally.”

By every conceivable account, this should be awkward, if not outright wrong. She’s still an undergrad, you tell yourself, staring into her sharp, alluring eyes. For as rebellious and as unruly as Haewon acts, she still listens to you. Hell, you’re the only professor she bothers to attend classes regularly for. She’d tell you she cares in her own twisted way. Look at how she dresses, for one. Your thoughts consist of mainly her in some cumbersome position, her lips letting out these desperate, heavy gasps. Your hands squeezing her taut breasts; the way her shirt accentuates the curves of her chest drives your imagination wild. You can spend all day planning how you intend to fuck her—

“Sir, you’re staring again.” A snap back to the present, where she’s grinning and leaning close to your face. So pretty. “I get it—I’m hot, but we’re on borrowed time, sir.”

“Right. I honestly forgot what I was gonna tell you,” you mindlessly drawl, searching through your desk for something. Something to temporarily distract you from the inevitability of the end. The rest of your paperwork lies unattended in the faculty room, you remember, but you’re not gonna step foot inside that place—not when the other professors are still around. Time is money. “But it’s definitely not your grades, that’s for certain.”

“What’s it about, then?” Her eyes continue to follow your every move. 

You place a folded sheet of paper between you. She grabs it and reads through the brief content. The response is concerning. 

“You’re leaving?” Haewon turns to you, stunned and gobsmacked. A rare expression coming from someone who’s usually indifferent toward everything and everyone.

Genuinely, you have no idea how to explain yourself. You had this all planned out since the beginning of the year; these two semesters will be your last, you were completely certain. You could have told anyone in the faculty. They’re decent people—as decent as they can be during the few times you actually interact with them—but they were merely coworkers and nothing more. You could have told your wife, who just so happens to be a fellow professor and colleague, but she’s one of the reasons why you’re leaving in the first place. 

Word spreads like wildfire around campus, so you know to be careful, but this is straight recklessness. You call it mutual trust.

“Been thinking about it for a while,” you say, rather quietly, trying your hardest not to look her way. 

“Let me guess,” she says, breaking the pretense of sympathy and concern for her usual caustic tone. “No one cares about your shitty class?”

You’re not remotely bothered by her comment, even if she’s speaking the truth. Though she could have used a nicer word besides shitty. “Part of it, yeah.”

“I seriously don’t understand why there’s gotta be a religious unit for a business degree,” she adds, fascinated by her own question. Even more so than listening to your lectures. “I don’t get it.”

“I don’t get it either.” Truthfully, you seriously question why you’re even teaching here to begin with.

You’re employed by one of the top universities in the country; every parent would sacrifice everything just for their children to study here. It pays well by teaching standards, but the bar is in hell. Despite the prestige, the overall experience is no different than your time in public high school. Most of the students who do attend come from rich backgrounds; people who use the place as a dick measuring contest to see who is the richer person. These entitled scholars who are always on their phone—one of their many phones—and cheat to get ahead.

It happens so often on the regular that you eventually stopped caring.

“Hmm,” Haewon thinks to herself, running through every piece of information she has to weaponize against you. She knows you better than anyone, mainly because you share personal life details like they’re the daily newspaper. Not to mention the very reason she comes to the classroom in the afternoons: you.

Then she comes to a rather off the wall conclusion. “It’s Miss Myoui, isn’t it?”

You squint your eyes. Haewon glints up. A small opening. 

After a brief pause, she piles on, smirking. “Did I touch a nerve? Poor you,” she says, shooting you a mocking pout that you mostly ignore. “I guess you haven’t had some good pussy in a while. I mean, there’s no reason for me to be here other than the fact that Miss Myoui isn’t letting you clap her ass. Maybe the rumors are true then—”

Before she continues to spill more information that anyone shouldn’t be allowed to know, you fire back with a sharp glare. She cheekily grins. By ignoring the flashing red light right in front of you, you’re purposefully walking towards your own downfall.  It’s a trap; you know this. You know Haewon more than any other student. All her little tricks, all her crafty schemes. 

God, you can already see how this is gonna end.

“So I’m right?” Haewon tilts her head, leaning slightly forward. Her smug expression, word choice, and mocking tone tests your patience—including your blood levels—and you’re failing by the minute. “Trouble at home?”

Your response? Nothing. Going word for word with her ultimately results in a losing effort; previous conversations with her leave you more tongue tied and in a rut by the end. Haewon is so natural at getting under people’s skin. It’s what she gets off on—wrapping professors and superiors around her finger with her mouth. And more often than not, she’s charismatic and charming enough that it’s entertaining, but no one wants to openly admit it except you.

It’s how she’s able to read you like an open book. Let personal information slip so seamlessly. The numerous discussions regarding her underperformance in class lead into intimate sessions where you and Haewon become more acquainted with each other. A little too comfortable at times, but you can see where and why she acts the way she does. And you had come to the conclusion that you can’t fix her. Many have tried—and failed. She does whatever she wants, and she’ll end up getting away with it.

You slide your laptop aside, ready to dance with the devil, going against everything you swore against. “Mmm—not quite, but you’re halfway there.”

Haewon smiles and her eyes flutter. Not in a patronizing, condescending way, but the sweet kind. Genuine. The soft side she’ll only let you see. “Miss Myoui not letting you clap, sir?”

“She does,” you say, dour. And I already told you class hours are done. Please don’t call me sir.”

“Right. Sir.” Haewon’s playful tone trails off with that loathsome word. She can’t help but smirk; it’s second nature to her. She’ll claim that you fell for that bait, but that was deliberate, you’ll say—even if she refuses to believe you.  

After a brief impasse, “So—sir,” she follows, using her eyebrows and cadence to tease, her hands on the edge of her pants, teasing some underwear, “You need to fuck me again? Now? Is Miss Myoui not letting you have some lately?”

Turning your gaze away and to the desk, “About Mina,” you reply, drumming your fingers on the table, deep in thought, “I’m planning to divorce her soon.”

“Huh?” Her eyes shoot wide, her expression rather surprised at the sudden revelation. You’d think by how she teases you about your wife, she’d have a much more subdued reaction. Considering she knows facets of your rather strange relationship with Mina. “Well, I would tell you’d be fumbling big time, but you should know—”

“She’s cheating on me. I know.” 

Now she’s genuinely shocked, completely caught unaware. She’d assume you to be particularly naive and clueless about campus rumblings, especially since she’d never see you outside of the classroom and in the faculty room. “Well damn. I honestly thought you didn’t know.”

“Can’t say it would be the first time I’ve heard about it,” you say, turning to face her again, cold and gloomy. Pointing your finger at her, “And before you say anything, no, I didn’t catch her getting eaten out in the faculty room.” 

You say that with the utmost sincerity—and sarcasm.

Haewon hesitates, before answering, rather  “I figured.” She understands that your poor eyes have seen some things you shouldn’t be seeing.

Truthfully, you’re amazed she hasn’t brought up the subject a lot earlier. Since the end of the previous academic year, you’ve noticed Mina’s sudden changes in behavior. She’s sending more text messages telling you she’ll arrive home later than usual, the frequent faculty outings she chooses to attend, the cancellation of plans scheduled months in advance—the biggest of which, a dinner date at a particularly expensive five-star restaurant on the other side of town that has a notorious 18 month waitlist that you miraculously booked for your anniversary. And that was five months ago.

People change, but Mina is an entirely different person to you now. You can hardly recognize her.

“I guess I should say I’m sorry for what happened,” Haewon says, pretty modest and empathetic in tone, but even during serious moments, she can’t help but remark, “But you were kind of loser material for a woman like her.”

You can only stare back, annoyed. She chuckles, heartily. Seeing your animated, cartoonish expressions only serves to amuse her even further and fuel her addiction of teasing you. 

“Ah, I fucking love you, sir. You’re my favorite professor for this reason.” In an instant, the somber facade falls apart and she’s back to being her usual coy self.

“Among other things?” you question.

“Such as?” Haewon looks confused. It’s a bluff; you’re calling it now. “Such as what, sir?”

Placing a hand on her knee, you’re creating friction so intense that her mouth goes agape and her breaths grow heavier. “Such as the fact that no one eats you out better than I do,” you reply, inflection transitioning from formal to low.

“Oh?” She doesn’t believe what’s happening to you. “Sir,” her cadence dances in such a melodic and sultry way it’s gonna ruin you faster than anything she’s done so far. “You have no evidence to prove—”

Suddenly, Haewon goes tongue tied, unable to finish her sentence. That’s a first. And you didn’t need to lift a finger or use your voice. Your other hand finds solace around her toned waist, exploring her tummy, and it’s thankfully not restricted by any layer of clothing. So much pristine skin to claim as yours, you begin to lose your restraint—and there isn’t much left to begin with.

“I can take you to the faculty room and show you,” you mumble against her belly, the cold breath tickling her flesh that she trembles. Haewon’s senses float off, her vision growing dark as her hands impulsively latch onto your shoulders. In return, you peck her navel, her abs, until you reach her abdomen, a hair’s breadth away from her chest. Between kisses, you continue to feed into her want, “Or I can give you an example right now.”

“Please,” Haewon finds enough clarity to cup your face up and meet her in a lengthy passionate liplock. This is what she wanted from the start. “Indulge me, sir.”

The only thing keeping you two apart is the laptop dangling on the opposite side of the table, almost pushed aside while you were making out. You quickly place it on a random desk before closing the two classroom door curtains.

When you return to Haewon, she’s sitting atop your desk, playfully swinging her legs, smiling modestly. It’s only now that you recognize how pretty she looks. But behind that meek appearance is a demon, a temptress that only sees you as a conduit for pleasure. In her eyes, the only purpose you have to give is sex, and nothing more. 

So push your chair forward when you sit down. Haewon’s legs are already spread wide, but the pants remain on them. She doesn’t like to do it herself. 

“Won’t give me a cheating discount?” you say, looking up at her coy grin, placing your hands around the hem of her trousers.

“Technically—” she trails off, kissing you, “You’re cheating on her with me, sir.” Followed by another. Each one deeper, more intimate than the last. “Don’t act all innocent now, especially when we’ve been doing this for months.”

Then, Haewon consumes you—as in, devours you. Grabs you and makes out with you with a passion you wish she’d present during class hours. You’d be content to remain in this position for the rest of the day, even if the clothes never come off; he’s so passionate and fervent that it’s intoxicating. But it’s all planned. Elaborate. You’re familiar with her more than you ever want to be: how she loves to unbutton your shirt while kissing you, how she mumbles and hums softly against your mouth, how she whispers desires that end up becoming realized after the foreplay. In reality, she’s the one dictating the pace, the one calling all the shots, and you’re merely an instrument she uses to indulge herself.

And she wants it: everywhere, in every position—something you find too much to handle, and she’s already quite the handful. But it’s merely a delay of the inevitable; you’re going to fuck Haewon, you’re gonna pour all your cum inside her, and you can figure out the rest the morning after.

More often than not, your shirt ends up unbuttoned, but not completely undone. One of two layers keeping your impulsive desires in check. As you work Haewon’s pants down her legs, most of your lesser instincts are shown in full display. It takes almost tearing your own fingers off your very hands not to rip through her panties. Meanwhile, she’s lounging on the desk, enjoying the sight of you reverting back to something primal. 

The way you fondle her creamy thighs, never finding their beginning and end, is like beholding a sculpture crafted by the gods. They’re meant to be worshiped, to be handled reverently.

And Haewon guides you through the process, commanding you like she has authority over you. Titles do not matter—they never have. “Keep going,” she says, as you leave delicate kiss marks down her thighs, slowly burying yourself into the inviting presence of her pussy. Peeking through the near-nonexistent layer of fabric, she shifts the lift of her legs, perching on your shoulders as she forces you into her suffocating warmth. 

“Show me,” she gasps, brushing your hair with her hand, and that’s what sets the rest into motion.

Her legs clutch you into a breathless hold. God, she’s killing you slowly, and you don’t mind it one bit. At this point, you have nothing to lose. You might as well treat this as your last supper, your final meal before you have to say goodbye. She can strangle you with her thighs while you drag your tongue up and down her folds, suck on her clit, take in all her nectar—it doesn’t change the fact that Haewon is gonna fucking end you. 

You might as well repay the favor.

And despite throwing caution to the wind, Haewon appears unprepared. Dazed and confused by the overwhelming sensation burning through her nerves, she trembles—and moans. She couldn’t be any less subtle if she tried; hearing her hit notes you never thought she’s capable of hitting only serves to be a minor distraction from her pulsating heat. You’re relentless, slowly picking away at her senses, at her sensitive cunt, knowing that no one can eat her out as well as you do.

“S-sir.” Haewon can only muster up a single word before her mouth fills the room with nothing but air. 

Deep down, you despise the rather obstructive yet comfortable position you’re in. Your tongue brushes against Haewon’s folds, going back and forth to taste of her warmth and her clit. The rest of her frame lays atop the desk, trembling, unable to keep herself steady under your grip. She’s lost you somewhere in between, clinging onto the edges of the table for support. You can only imagine her jaw agape, her expressions twisting in pleasure, wriggling and tossing her head around as she aimlessly tries to find some semblance of control.

Her mouth is the only tool she can use to make some sense of this overwhelming bliss. And even that doesn’t amount to much. ‘Shit,’ ‘so good,’ ‘don’t stop—’ these are only some of the things she groans out as you trap her in a whirlpool of her own ecstasy. It’s still not enough. You want to prove her wrong; you want to remind her what’s important, and the only way you can make sure she truly understands if she fucking cums all over your face.

So while Haewon writhes and makes a damn mess of your desk, you continue to feast on her pretty cunt. She’s making sure every person in the building knows how good your tongue is, and it’s in character with how unabashedly shameless she behaves in front of everyone. Her legs kick sharply against your chair, so you end up where you were supposed to be from the beginning—on your knees. And yet it doesn’t deter you; if anything, you grow more attached to her pussy, savoring every taste and drop, taking piece of every little part of her as yours.

You can’t wait to explore the rest of her body and claim it as yours. On the off chance you’re able to rip her shirt off, your hands roam her tight, lithe figure. You’re met by layers of fabric, frustrated at the inability to grab her breasts in their natural form. She grabs you by the wrists; it’s a miracle she’s able to feel you through the waves crushing her to the desk. You suck on her clit hard. She lets out this guttural moan that sounds violent in nature, like you’re hurting her, when you’re actually doing the exact opposite. 

And it’s how you play off each other for the most part. Your need to get Haewon naked is only matched by her desperation to cum. She doesn’t need to tell you directly how much she wants to. Her hands guide you beneath her shirt, and you press on the underside of her boobs in appreciation. You’re playing a dangerous game; you have no intention of letting go. 

Surprisingly, Haewon holds up well. One look and it might appear that she’s a complete wreck: how her body trembles unceasingly, how she has half her shirt lifted to give you a better view of her chest for when you eventually come up for air, how helpless she is at even the slightest touch. You made her like this. It’s a habit she’s used to by now; she’s learned that a figure like hers is meant to be admired, to be used.

Before you grow comfortable with the habit, the idea that you can eat her out on the desk for hours, Haewon cums.

She keens and shudders through her surprise orgasm. It’s aligned with her playful nature to cum without your knowing, even though the signs were there all along. Your tongue works through the torrent of fluid, then the wave of slick that you drink up. Lap whatever your satiated bud allows. You can see remnants of her climax spill down the desk and to the floor, to her pants. 

Even now, you’re still learning something new about your students. For one, you never knew Haewon squirts.

The wet desk would make for a perfect reference picture for when she questions your legitimacy again—but you have better ways of explaining yourself.

You give Haewon no reprieve; she mewls and whimpers as you lick her folds clean, till you settle into soft, gentle kisses. The situation is all sorts of fucked; she has places to be and friends to meet, but you have her on top of your desk, keening after eating her out and making her cum without a care. It’s gonna take an essay's worth of explaining the glaringly wet patches on her clothes and deep red marks over her skin. 

Truthfully, she’d rather be with you than with her overbearing friends—but you won’t hear it directly from her lips.

Speaking of, you hear a phone ring. Haewon cranes her neck in the direction of her bag. “Sir, I need my phone.” She huffs, gasping for air, each word spaced out between deep breaths. 

Regretfully, it takes every bit of your resolve to release your tongue from her warm cunt. You rummage through her bag and hand the phone over to her. It’s about picking up the pieces now, salvaging whatever you can make of the mess you made, albeit there’s hardly anything to save, even yourself. 

“Don’t.” Haewon uses her loose toes to point at you, shifting herself into a sitting position on the desk. You’re halfway done with the first button on your shirt when she stops you. She’s tapping through her phone, texting some bullshit excuse to her friends. Knowing her, they’re most likely no better than her; they might be playing into your little secret, too. All it takes is one person, one word of mouth, before information spreads around like wildfire.

Like everything else about her, you had mostly left it up to interpretation. Forcing details out of Haewon is a near-impossible task. You were never really a good negotiator. The deal usually ends up like this: her panties for a bonus in her grades, her lips for a signed excuse letter, and if she was really in the mood, her pussy for a cheat sheet. Sometimes, 

She sets her phone aside on the desk, hopping off the table to lay her hands on your exposed chest. Momentarily kissing you, she whispers, “Sir, I told them I would be a little late today. You should know better by now.” 

Her fingers wring around the collar of your button up shirt, eyes ablaze with reinvigorated lust, lips curled  in a pleasant smile. You’re so enamored with her, it drives you crazy. Even when she pushes you onto your chair, even when she rips the already undone shirt off your body, all you can do is pay attention to the stars in her eyes. Her warm, wanton gaze—both charming and alluring in all the right ways. She knows how to use every part of herself to near perfection. 

The rest of your clothes couldn’t come off any faster. Your pants and boxers pool around your ankles, followed shortly by a dark cropped sweatshirt. You’re not given any time to savor the perfection that is Haewon’s naked figure; she’s straddled on your lap, stroking your hard cock with a delicate grip. She smirks, and she has every right to look smug. You’re left breathless, under pressure; if only you can see yourself in the mirror and see how needy you look, and the utter control Haewon has over you.

And you allow her; this is her specialty, this is what she’s built for—to fucking end you.

If your words allow you, you’d command her to get on her knees, suck your cock and take a warm load all over her face; this is the ideal position to make the move. But you can’t. Not when you’re missing the point. 

Haewon is on the edge of your lap, running her hand around your cock, gathering spurts of precum on her nails and finger pads. She’s still winded from before, slow in her movements. The naughty look she gives your body never grows old. 

“I hope you don’t mind if I ask you a question,” she starts, looking down at the little mess she’s making on your thigh. You’re too overwhelmed to breathe, let alone say a word.

“Be honest with me. I’m being serious for once.” 

And she sounds like she means it. You gulp your throat as you enter the unknown.

Her eyes flicker up to meet yours, her expression deep in thought, something she’s not usually seen doing. And you feel the heat gradually building on your lap, but you’re paralyzed by anxiety for the sensation to register. She runs the other hand through hair to take a good luck at you: your rather sweaty face, somewhere between pleasure and tense. 

“Tell me,” she sighs, running a hand down your shoulder to your elbow, before continuing, “Am I the best student you’ve ever fucked?”

“Yes.” The word comes out involuntarily, as if it were muscle memory. Like your body knows, and it knows itself better than anyone or anything else.

It draws a piqued reaction from Haewon. She raises an eyebrow, unconvinced. “And what about Yoona?”

“And what about her?” 

A reply you end up regretting almost immediately. Haewon doesn’t take bullshit for an answer, as evident by the cold, dour stare on her face. If there’s anyone who knows the ins and outs of university, it’s her. 

It doesn’t take long for you to cave in. “She’s so tight,” you admit, sounding like a guilty criminal being interrogated. “But you’re still the best, I swear.”

“And what about Yuna? That exchange student Lily? Miss Minatozaki? You say that to just about anyone.” 

In an instant, she goes from curious and passionate to downright frightening. It’s not supposed to be like this; normally it’s you who has the authority. Haewon can go on and on for hours if she wanted to. She has all the leverage, all the evidence, all the power to cause the end of everything, your life included. But she only wants one thing: the truth.

“They’re nothing compared to you. Promise. You’re still my favorite student.”

To a certain extent, you’re right; Haewon is your favorite, but for all for the wrong reasons. It has nothing to do with teaching her anything other than being a good toy, because deep down, she’s about as irredeemable as your peers make her out to be. Really, it’s about using her body, fucking her, pushing her to the absolute limits—anything to get your mind out of the numbing, monotonous work of being an actual professor. There are many good girls in class, including the names she mentions in passing, but this is a stark reminder that Haewon is yours, and you belong to Haewon.

“Then show me.”

And to drive the point even further, she sinks down on your lap, pressing her weight on your crotch—until her pussy meets your cock and you both disappear into the sea of pleasure again.

Haewon throws her head back, and she’s never looked more vulnerable, not even when you had her laid out on the desk. All this flesh and body to claim, and you have no clue where to begin. But that’s the least of your problems when she begins to glide up and down, rocking your lap with slow, agonizing thrusts. You end up blanking out and caring about the friction in your hips instead. 

The slip of your cock in and out of her pussy when she rides you. Your palms press against her waist while you watch her slowly come undone: the moans, curses, and every sound in between, the rapidly twisting expressions, the hypnotic jiggle of her chest. Soon, you find a steady rhythm to match, and everything becomes effortless. Both of you pushing and pulling against each other’s bodies in an effort to get deeper. You forget you’re a professor and her a student, only two souls in need of sex during some trying times in your lives.

In a way, you’re both meant to be. Fate is a strange entity.

Then Haewon regains some clarity, enough to be kissing you, moaning directly in your ear, demanding your gaze. Even when her hole swallows your cock, she still wants your attention. And even while you have it so deep in her cunt that she’s mewling, struggling for oxygen, she manages to form a coherent sentence.

“Tell me I’m the tightest. Tell me I have the best pussy you ever fucked.” 

God, she’s so fucking tight you can’t fully comprehend it. Perhaps even more, and you’re used to using her. Maybe it’s all that pent-up frustration toward your dead end job, toward Mina, that makes her clench tighter. That’s now how pussy works; you’re just stretching her out really hard, but you have nothing sensible to conclude with. What you can tell, however, is that you needed this—and you needed it badly. 

You’re thankful you closed off the doors and curtains to the classroom, because the last thing anyone needs to see and hear is the sight of Haewon riding you while you both moan about how good the other feels. 

“Love this pussy,” you murmur, breathing against her collarbone, wanting a taste of her taut nipple. She has you in a tight bearhug that binds your hands around her waist. “Fuck—so—fucking—tight—the best—”

And that’s all she needed to hear. Every word—every sound—slips from her lips like it hurts, but she’s in total bliss. She moves her hips against the roll of your cock with deep emphasis, like fitting puzzle pieces together, and it sends you. You’re left even more breathless, more in awe at how fucking well Haewon takes your length. As if it was always meant for her. 

Curses and praise aside, she’s never one to talk during sex. But then she makes the faintest comment about how your cock fits so snug inside her, and you honestly just lose it.

Once in a while, a certain inquiry is brought up. What’s your favorite thing about me, Haewon asks, when it’s supposed to be the opposite. You’re supposed to give out this very question to your students as a way to improve your teaching style and maybe come off as an approachable authority figure. As expected, it wasn’t helpful in the slightest. She then would suddenly come to you at the most random of times with this particular question, and you’d be preoccupied with numerous things—home life, school activities, the usual—to find an answer. 

But right there, right as you spear deep into her tight, needy cunt, is where you figure it all out. It’s all in the little details. Your hand going up and down her arched back. The squelching of her pussy against your cock. The furious sound of your flesh slapping against hers. Her loose, shrilly whines while you bury your face between her chest, begging you harder. Her hands tangled with your hair and nape. All that while she’s bouncing on your lap at such a feverish pace; she’s going to break the chair you’re sitting on.

Before you know it, your tongue has traveled all over the most sensitive parts of her body: nipples, neck, and even pits. 

Everything about Haewon is so ridiculous, you can’t believe how much of a challenge she has been for the longest time that you’ve forgotten how easily she folds. Like she’s meant to be used.

But no punishment is suitable enough; no amount of discipline can change her. If anything, it only fuels her goal to thread the needle even further.

“Gonna fucking cum, Haewon,” you hiss against her ear, blurring the line between kissing and biting her collarbone. Using all the strength in your hips, you have her legs spread as wide as they can over the chair, over your thighs. The squirt she releases as she crashes on your lap serves to fan the flames in your cock even brighter. It’s all but inevitable that you’ll pour it all inside her, and she wouldn’t want it any other way.

If you had any semblance of a spine, you’d never let her hear the end of it. The idea that her pussy isn’t getting its fair share of seed disgusts her. She needs to learn what boundaries are, and how not to cross said lines. At least there’s one lesson you can impart on her before you split, but you’ll save that for another day, because you cum.

You fuck Haewon so hard, she turns into mush that melts in your grasp. Forget the guttural groan you made; the aftermath is alarming. Her pussy drips with a huge load pooling on the chair and trickling down her thighs. You make sure you bury yourself to the hilt and unload inside her. The evidence is undeniable; from the smell to the sight of clothes and cum, there’s no concealing it—if there was even anything to hide, because your salacious activity could easily be heard anywhere in the building. 

And lost in the madness is your train of thought; your body is reeling from the aftershocks of your orgasm, and you simply idle. Let your cock stay in Haewon’s warmth as long as possible. Let the setting sun bathe her pretty face in that lovely afterglow. Let her slowly recover and realize that you’ve been right all along about everything.

“Sir, you came inside me a lot,” she says, a little over a whisper, trying to take record of your work. Her eyes stay glued to the puddle of cum dripping down her leg, running a finger to taste you. 

“For my favorite student, why wouldn’t I,” you tell her, caressing your hand up and down her back. Even through the climax, you never stopped. 

The brief, peaceful respite is interrupted by, you guessed it, another phone. This time, it’s not Haewon’s. She moves gingerly bending down, almost tumbling over in an attempt to retrieve your phone from the depths of your pocket. Your only contribution is ensuring she doesn’t bash her head on the floor. 

“Well, well, well,” she comments, looking at your phone with a familiar, sarcastic tone before handing it over to you. “Speak of the devil.”

On the screen are two missed calls and one new text, all from none other than Mina herself. A grim reminder of the reality you live in.

The message is as predictable as it reads. She won’t be home till late in the evening, which might as well be dawn of the next day.

“Miss Myoui is getting it. A hundred percent sure.” 

She delivers it with such conviction that it might as well be fact. You’d be upset about the very thought—anyone would—but a glance at Haewon gives you an idea. One that leaves her curious.

“Sir? Why are you looking at me like that?”

You can already imagine it: the image of railing Haewon everywhere. On the table, against the wall, under the showers. Maybe if you’re lucky enough, Mina will go through that door and be greeted by the sight of her least favorite student getting fucked by her husband from behind.

You show her the text, and just like that, you’re both one and the same. A look of pride crosses her face, as if she’s accomplished an important milestone—and it’s quite a momentous one.

And what better way to celebrate than inside the comfort of your home.

—————

(A/N: Been down bad for Haewon since December. Also, NMIXX is actually good now! Their latest EP has some bangers, highly recommend Run for Roses and Passionfruit. The setting might be a bit more on the bleaker/less wholesome side, but I hope it's not uncomfortable/upsetting. Thank you for reading!)