#same tasty treat

[tasiaadams33]

The Rug Hooking Club Food Of The Day Is

Bit O Honey. It Had A New Look. Same Tasty Treat!

[kuroo-suno]

Hey, random question but ik you read some shoujo manga. Do you have any recommendations?

omg i sure do!! sorry if this is long i just really love shoujo ( ‘́⌣’̀) completed series are at the top and currently releasing are after, and i wrote a little about each one (though it's based on memory so it's not exactly detailed).

hopefully at least one of these is enjoyable! i've read loads more but these are some that stick out ♥

Completed:

Chorokute Kawaii Kimi ga Suki

☆ Intimidating, misunderstood sweetheart ML and an endearingly goofy and super-weak-to-romantic-gestures FL

Horimiya

☆ one of my all-time favourites UGH. FL and ML are both completely different outside of school but in vastly different ways and thanks to a chance encounter, they meet and discover that perhaps they both have a little more to offer than what's on the surface ♥♥♥♥

Kanojo ga Kawaisugite Ubaenai

☆ demon ML comes to the human world disguised as a high school student to complete a test to become the next demon lord and the FL has never had friends before and couldn't read any romantic (or warning) signs if they were printed on the inside of her eyelids. ML is also sooo weird and awkward and provides a lot of comic relief

Kawaisugiru Danshi ga Ouchi de Matteimasu

☆ FL is a star employee, but an absolute scrub once she gets home so she offers her friend/ML to live with her rent-free in exchange for his cooking and cleaning services (and to keep her from getting involved with losers)

Living no Matsunaga-san

☆ FL moves into her uncle's boarding house while her parents care for her grandmother and her roommates are quite the array of individuals, including the older ML who shows he cares by being a crabby little nag-machine

Natsuaki-kun wa Kyou mo Kokuhaku Shitai

☆ Aloof and seemingly disinterested ML (main character) pines HARD for the world's cutest girl and is desperately trying to confess

Tsubaki-chou Lonely Planet

☆ i wish i could read this for the first time again tbh. FL gets a job as a live-in housekeeper for a famous author (ML) to help pay back her dad's debts. ML is icy and distant, but FL has a heart of gold fr. This series made me laugh and cry numerous times and reading the last chapter was so bittersweet because i loved getting a conclusion but didn't want it to end yk? (from the same author as hirunaka no ryuusei and uruwashi no yoi no tsuki so no surprise it's 10/10)

Ongoing:

Daifuku-chan to Ouji-sama

☆ Small-town girl moves to the city for university (and to find new love). One of her boarding house roommates is a 10/10 but their first meeting doesn't exactly leave the best impression~

Hikaeme ni Itte mo, Kore wa Ai

☆ one of my all-time favourites?? Super school-focused, perpetually stressed FL comes across the battered and bruised delinquent ML in the rain and patches him up. He makes sure to repay the favour (insert saluting emoji here)

Kaoru Hana wa Rin to Saku

☆ modern day romeo/juliet situation except no one dies! ML and FL are from rival schools (lower-class, bad grades vs wealthy scholars) and are perceived very differently. ML is soft and sweet despite his appearance and encounters FL as a customer at his family's cake shop. She treats him differently than others have (read: like a human person) and oooooo it's so sugary!!

Super no Ura de Yani Suu Futari *technically seinen but........

☆ 45 y/o ML's only joys in life are going to the convenience store to talk to his favourite bubbly cashier and smoking out back with an edgy young woman who he's definitely more familiar with than he realizes..........

Uruwashi no Yoi no Tsuki

☆ FL presents much less feminine than her peers earning her the nickname of "prince" and she's always treated as such. But then she meets ML who is a fellow """prince""" and he sees her for who she is and appreciates her beauty both inside and out~

Yamaguchi-kun wa Warukunai

☆ FL has an unfortunate run-in with a creep on the train en route to her first day of high school and is saved by her delinquent classmate (ML). he's in everyone's bad books but the more she learns about him, the more determined she gets to change his reputation

Yubisaki to Renren

☆ FL is a deaf and lovely, but sheltered, college student and has a chance encounter with the ML, who is much more worldly and adventurous than she is annnnd cue tears fr

i almost added about 600 000 000 000 more but i'll hold back for now LOL if you have any recs or want to talk shoujo, please don't hesitate to reach out!!

[mantisgodsdomain]

On the rare occasions when we talk about the spectre of veganism you can probably physically tell the amount of psychic damage that we take from seeing people throw out any part of a carcass.

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

ari i am just hopping in to tell you that you are so amazing!! and those bouts of writer self-doubt and insecurity are so real. i don’t know if my words will do much (bc i know firsthand that it can be hard to believe & convince yourself at times!) but!!! i love that you continue to write and share your art here with us 🥺 i personally adore your writing, and i am constantly in awe of the words you string together!! at such breakneck speed too akzndk 🥺

we will always be our own’s worst critic!! but the silver lining i’ve found is that it can only mean we’re always looking for opportunities of growth—for opportunities to make things better than how we’ve done them before (even though they’re already very good!!!!) 🥹 i love the care you put into your writing and how you handle your stories with such consideration 🥺

at the end of the day, i hope you love the things you create 🥹 whether it’s objectively ‘good’ or ‘bad’ (by what standards, i’m not sure), but i hope you write the things you love in a way that makes your heart so full of it 🥹 cheering you on always and always! i am 100% sure anything you write, you’ll have me reading it gobsmacked with my jaw on the floor 🥹 (as i pick each of them from my growing stack of your works in my tbr… JALsnsksnsj)

SNIFFLE HIC SOB ….. SEL…………

i …. really really needed this ask i think :’3 thank you!!!!!! you’re an angel . and i love you. i’m feeling a little better now, but it’s hard to fully shake it off, yk? your words definitely help though!!! 🥺🥺 you’re one of my favorite fic writers Ever and your opinion really does mean so much to me…..

and !! you’re so right!!! i think it’s a very beautiful thing to want to grow and be better …. and i’d never want to change how much i care about my writing, for better or for worse !!! i think that sometimes i forget that i’m still growing a lot, and that my writing style still isn’t really finalized :’3 i guess a part of me is scared that my writing won’t live up to people’s standards if it evolves? even though that’s a silly thing to care about 😭 but i really do love the things i create!!! even the ones i don’t think are very good are precious to me 🥺 they’re my babies at the end of the day…. i forget that i’m Allowed to love my own writing sometimes. so thank you for reminding me of that sel 🥹🥹

i love you <33333 so so soooo much . this really was just what i needed to hear… it’s a sucky feeling but i know i’ll get through it :3 i’m gonna do my best to use it as motivation instead !!!

[supercantaloupe]

my brain is very gone. i cannot read questions but i wanna participate. what’s your fav kind of tea? how do you take your tea?

ooh i love a lot of types of tea so i could never pick a single favorite. i'd say for a single (though often large) cup of hot tea my preference is usually for something strong and fruity. i like herbal blends with hibiscus, peaflower, rosehip etc and/or dried fruit pieces, although this year i've really been enjoying a couple of fruity white or green tea/herbal blends. i love these hot and either unsweetened or with just a drop of honey. this is also usually what i take in my thermal mug to campus bc it doesn't easily suffer from overbrewing so i can brew it in the morning at 9am and have a still-hot cup of tea to drink in rehearsal at 6pm. although occasionally i'll take something black to drink as a single cup; my preference is usually for something strong and spiced, with a bit of cream and lightly sweetened. but if i'm sitting down for an hour or two and enjoying a whole pot of tea, i'm usually drinking either one of the fruit/tea blends or i'm drinking an oolong, no sweetener. i have this WONDERFUL oolong in my cabinet right now from a regional teashop i love that's scented with grape and blackberry and it's got the most well rounded, juicy body to it -- if i had to pick a single favorite it might be that but it's expensive and small batch so i try to save it for when i can really sit down and enjoy it.

as for iced teas: love a cold fruity or hibiscus tea, barely sweet; black tea, strong and lightly sweet, especially with milk (a la boba shop milk tea or chai latte); LOVE an arnold palmer (half unsweet tea/half lemonade); and whatever the hell they put in diet snapple, i could go through cases of that shit all by myself in no time flat.

basically the only teas i don't really like are anything minty, chamomile, and plain green teas and matcha. although i'm recently becoming a convert to the joys of jasmine tea. besides it just tasting good what i love about tea is that there's just So Much out there that there's always something new to try and fall in love with

[bkdk-and-extras]

what if we became friends. and talked about dkbk/bkdk... what if..

What if...?

[alligatorangel]

i want to get up and eat macarons but first i have to get up

[computercreature]

something i see a lot in the dungeon meshi fandom is attributing izutsumi's personality traits to her being a cat. and while ryoko kui definitely gave her cat-like traits intentionally, she's a talented enough writer to also give her a backstory with reasons for those traits. for example, her tendency to only do and eat what she wants.

izutsumi's character arc revolves around freedom. she grew up caged in a circus. and although she was fed enough to survive, this was only because a living catgirl attracted more customers than a dead one.

[id: first image is izutsumi as a child framed behind bars and standing on all fours, making it clear how skinny she is. a hand in the foreground holds out a bowl of what appears to be kibble. narration says “thrown in a cage and given food every once in a while… is that what you would call ‘being raised’?” in the second image she is now sitting on the floor of her cage and eating a rat. end id]

look how skinny she is! we see her eating what appears to be... kibble? oats? and then a rat that she possibly caught for herself. she had no choice but to eat anything she could.

[id: part of the dungeon meshi manga. a slightly older izutsumi is tied to a post and tade sits next to her to say "we've got a roof over our heads, beds, food, and clothes. they've got everything here. is there someplace nicer than this out there?" izutsumi thnks for a moment and says "i hate that someone's already decided what i'm going to eat tomorrow. my name, the clothes i wear, where i sleep, where i go next... here, all of that's been decided by another person... even though, come tomorrow, i might want to eat something else instead. that's why i'm leaving." at this, tade cries out in shock. end id]

when she's taken into the nakamoto household they begin to treat her much better. she's on about equal footing as tade, who also had a rough living situation before being taken in, and tade loves it there! they get healthy and tasty food and they're not sleeping in cages. but izutsumi still isn't free. she can pass off her chores and vegetables to tade and disobey in any way she can but she can't leave. maizuru even put a collar on her, further dehumanizing and trapping izutsumi.

when izutsumi joins laios's party, she's finally 'free', but it's not the kind of freedom she wants. she has to eat even more food she doesn't want or else she'll starve. but the difference now is that she's can leave at any time, and if she stays, she's treated as an equal. they're not feeding her monsters because they see her as inferior. they're all eating the same food so they can reach their goal(s). and this is part of izutsumi ultimately learning that in order to do what she wants, she has to be willing t do the things she doesn't want to

[ms-demeanor]

Hey also you know that post about getting better at cooking and handling meat and stuff?

Meat is really expensive and it goes bad pretty quickly.

If you're a new cook and you're trying to figure out how to pan-fry something so that it tastes good, might I recommend tofu?

I'm not saying "treat tofu like meat and try to replace all your favorite meat dishes with tofu" (though, I mean, if that sounds good - go for it), I'm saying "it's a lot easier to practice heating a pan and flipping objects in a pan for a meal and seasoning objects in a pan when the objects in the pan cost two dollars instead of ten dollars."

Tofu lasts a lot longer in the fridge than meat does, is easy to season, and you can easily learn how to pan-fry it into a tasty snack (or main course) and only requires a little extra prep. You can also pretend that the tofu is raw meat (the texture isn't dissimilar) and start practicing for things like how to take it out of a package or cut it on a sanitizable surface, etc.

My favorite way to cook tofu is to press extra firm tofu for at least half an hour (you can get a cheap tofu press for around ten dollars, or you can put it between two plates with some books on the top plate - this is that extra prep i was talking about - tofu cooks best if you press the excess water out), then slice a 14oz cake of it into 8 slices. I lay these flat and sprinkle cayenne pepper, mushroom powder, and smoked paprika on all of the slices, then I rub it in and flip the slices and season the other side the same way. I cook it in a frying pan with a thin layer of avocado or olive oil over medium heat, flipping every two minutes until the flat sides start to crisp up a little. Just before the last flip I add about a tablespoon of tamari sauce (you can use soy sauce, I've just got allergies) to the pan, sprinkling it over the tofu so that both sides get a little bit of sauce on them.

I have that with steamed vegetables and with jasmine rice (with two teaspoons of rice wine vinegar per 3 cups of dry rice and 4.5 cups of water). I also make a honey-siracha-mayo sauce that I dip the tofu in.

It's really good. And now I end up eating leftover rice and sauce with fried eggs for lunch at least two days a week and that's also really good.

This has become one of my go-to low spoon foods because it's so easy to make, it's filling, it tastes good to me, and it has become extremely easy for me to keep a stock of tofu in the fridge compared to the effort of keeping un-expired meat in the fridge.

I find that a 14oz pack of tofu feeds two adults for one meal, though I can stretch that to three meals if I'm the only one eating.

It makes a very cheap, filling, easy dinner that I can keep the ingredients around for without too much concern for food waste or anything going bad (the tofu that I get lasts about a month in the fridge and these days I just buy three packs every time I'm at aldi and cycle in new stock - it costs $1.50 per pack)

If you're interested in becoming a better cook, rather than worrying about actual high-risk products like raw chicken that can be seriously dangerous and also cost a fair amount, tofu has a pretty low barrier to entry while also being a good way to learn on a new ingredient that has some similar properties to raw meat.

[dirty-c0yot3]

therian tips! (food)

so, I CRAVE raw meat a lot even though I can't eat it :( BUT I have compiled a list of foods that beings with human bodies can't eat (or just prefer not to), but that most animals eat that I could translate to human foods :D

worms = gummy worms :3 if you want them to be slimy like real worms, you could put water or a thin layer of oil on them

little insects = raisins or chia seed pudding (thank you to @puddin-dear 😌)

bigger insects = you could prob eat plain chips, I think it would have the same crunch affect. or chippers! (chocolate covered potato chips)

carrion (dead animal flesh) = jerky or bacon!! (ty @silverfoxboy for the bacon one!)

raw meat = meat sticks (I believe you can get them in beef or turkey) or raw pepperoni (you can get it small bags). suggested by @avocados019, salami :3, and commented by @horse-wisteria 😅 prosciutto (which I honestly forgot was a thing 😭) and multiple beings have said salmon and I keep forgetting about salmon 😭

mice = marshmallow mice (credits to @ink-man-sam )

kibble = cereal (I think most of you know that though) or for something softer- gnocchi! (Suggested by @emberslimehunts )

treats = Scooby snacks!

Snacks:

Go-gurt (if you freeze them, they're really good!)

nut bars, such as Nutri grain or Kind (good protein/energy + tasty)

Chex mix

assorted nuts/trail mix

smoothies!

(I have updated this a lot)

Have fun!

[asunflowerana]

𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐭

summary: usual grocery day with your husband

with: bokuto koutaro, oikawa tooru, sakusa kyoomi and osamu miya.

n/a: brought this one from my old blog, one of my favorites. I'm thinking about making a part 2 with more hq boys, I personally enjoy imagining them dealing with grocery with me 😂. hope you guys enjoy!

⊛ bokuto koutaro

a child inside a full-grow 190cm male body, that's what he is. The fact that he still pouts whenever you remind him that "no, you can't get inside the cart baby, you won't fit" proves the point. But besides his childish mood, he can turn your time shopping a lot funnier.

he does cart races, searches for lower prices like hunting a treasure, throw his hands in the air when he finds his favorite snacks and cackles at every single brand with a silly name. He's a total dork, but his excitement is so endearing that you cannot help but absorb it. It's actually sweet, the way he lightly takes a domestic duty. He's also helpful, willingly carrying the bags to the car, and storing the groceries later at home.

he yearns to stay close to you, so even if his both hands are grabbing the cart handle, at least some arm-brushing will happen. He'll feel pretty lost if you both need to part ways through the market, but it's cute how he beams when you guys find each other later.

favorite section: breakfast food section (he's addicted to cereal), and meat section.

what you usually hear from him: "babe, can we buy this?"

⊛ oikawa tooru

if there's something Tooru doesn't look forward to, is grocery day. He even tried to wipe it off the fridge calendar a few times before, but you're too good to be fooled. "the Santos already ordered by delivery, why can't we do the same?" and he always uses the neighbor's card to try to convince you, whining like his teenager version would.

but one way or another, you always get him to go. If he's in a bad mood, he'll probably sulk in the beginning, lazily riding the cart while sighing every two minutes 'cause this is a total "waste of time". But as the shopping proceeds, he gets used to it, even forgetting what he was so grumpy about when a product catches his attention. With some subtle kisses and a small treat, you can even get a smile out of him. 

He likes to wrap his arm around your back or keep you close by the waist. Not having you there with him it's the worst thing it could happen, so he needs to make sure you stay by his side (also because he simply likes holding you).

favorite section: checkouts (not a surprise), and cosmetics section (he can spend a good amount of time selecting body products).

what you usually hear from him: "are we done?"; "baby, I need your help. This one, or this one?".

⊛ sakusa kiyoomi

He's the one looking forward to this day. He gets uneasy when things run out in the house, so going shopping is almost necessary for his peace of mind. What he doesn't look forward to, though, is dealing with people at the supermarket. Most precisely, the lines, but let's not talk about it to not ruin the mood.

he's very selective, taking whatever time he has to inspect and be sure of the products, in case it isn't a common choice of yours. He appreciates being aware of what you are consuming, not only for being an athlete but because he cares about your health. He likes to share what he's been learning from the team's nutritionist, but he is not a dictator: if you want to treat yourself to some tasty sweets or snacks, he won't get in the way. He'll even join the party.

He'll offer his arm for you to wrap your own, or hold hands. He's grateful to have your company, so he'll cherish it as much as he can. He's also very protective if the place or the lines are too crowned, keeping you by his side and holding you close with his arm.

favorite section: cleaning products (you have no idea how relieved he gets when he goes there).

what you usually hear from him: "I know you want it. Go ahead, put in the cart"; "tsc, they always put the gloves way back there"; "these stupid lines. Again."

⊛ osamu miya

The king of groceries. He's used to doing this two, or three times a week, and it never gets boring. The experience has made him smarter about where and when it is best to buy, plus he has a good eye when it comes to product quality and price. So yeah, you have almost nothing to worry about when Osamu Miya is your grocery partner. Almost.

He's very chill and helpful while shopping, but you better keep a good eye on the cart: it'll get filled to the brim in one minute. When Osamu likes something, he makes a point of buying as much as he can. Once, he filled almost three entire carts, and half of one was just from rice bags. Someone might think you have a whole volleyball team as a family with the amount of food he wants to take home.

Hands on your back, shoulder, waist, any free space he has to keep you close to him – and he'll keep it there the whole time. Touch is one of his love languages, so there's no way he won't keep in contact with you.

favorite section: fruit and vegetables section, and bakery section (he loves the smell of fresh ingredients).

what you usually hear from him: "sweetheart, just one more. It'll be the last, I promise"; "hope Tsum doesn't visit us today"

© asunflowerana 2024 — all rights reserved.

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

I WANT YOU CLOSER, CLOSER EVEN STILL ; SUGURU GETO

synopsis; in the midst of a rainshower, you run into your mysterious classmate.

word count; 6.1k

contents; suguru geto/reader, gn!reader, implied no curses au, fluffy summer vibes, forced proximity (my beloved <3), pining, very shoujo manga coded, vague allusions to sugu having a troubled background, (kind of same w reader), switching povs, gojo slander, stsg implications if you squint (my brand), he’s a sweet sweet boy and i love him :((

a/n; teen sugu reminds me a lot of the kind upperclassman type of otome game li… with secret emotional baggage that makes his route really hard to complete….. anyway i dedicate this fic to hit mobage jujutsu kaisen: phantom parade PLEASE bring sugu home to me please please please ple

geto looks beautiful in the rain. 

it’s an embarrassing first thought to have, as he rounds the corner and comes into view. a black head of hair, making you stop in your tracks, breathe in a gulp of humid air.

you can’t help it, though.

it’s raining. droplets ricochet against the sidewalk in an endless cadence, the sky above you blanketed by gray clouds; enveloping your city in a summery shadow, the scent of hot concrete and blossoming hydrangeas. everything smells of a blistering summer, youth in a bottle cap. tasty on your tongue.

those very same hydrangeas surround him, on all sides, framing his figure like a painting come to life — splotches of colour, flecks of purple and pink and blue, clashing with the gray sky and the black umbrella in his hand. he looks a little disheveled, hair a little frizzy, bangs sticking to his skin. oddly at peace. when his eyes meet yours, you see a flash of recognition — a tiny spark in the amber hue. 

you take that as your cue to move closer. 

he waits for you, always so patient, smiling as you look both ways before crossing the street — shoes hitting the concrete in a steady thud, thud, thud. a splash from the puddle you step in.

you’re in a good mood. veins flooding with sugar and buzzing with joy, raindrops sticking to your skin and the plastic bag in your hand, absently humming along to a song playing through your headphones. your clothes are soaked, but you’re smiling; swinging the bag of treats as you walk. bags of chips, colourful lollipops, bottles of ramune, clinking together for every step you take. enough to last you a couple weeks. in your good mood, you ended up stocking up on your classmates’ favorites — bouncing on the balls of your feet at the thought of giving them away, seeing their satisfied little expressions.

you even got something for gojo. he’ll have to fight for it, obviously, but you look forward to seeing his face light up when he takes a bite of the soft mochi.

(you like giving them things. it’s fun. it makes you feel like a normal high school kid.)

nothing can dampen your spirits right now. the entire world smells of rain, and hydrangeas, and apple blossoms from the backyards behind you. a scent that creeps into your bloodstream, sneaks into your breath. a smile grows on your lips — blooming even brighter when you step into your classmate’s orbit.

”hey!” you chirp, raising a hand up in greeting.

”hey,” geto echoes, voice honeyed and smooth, bringing a hand up to wipe at his forehead. wet from the humid air. ”out on a walk?”

with a smile, you lift the plastic bag, grabbing his attention. clasping it tightly, with your wet fingers. ”just went to get some snacks. you?”

”i wanted to get some fresh air,” he smiles. eyeing you up and down. ”did you forget your umbrella?” 

silently, he takes in your appearance. your breathing is a tiny bit laboured, and the flimsy, oversized hoodie you’re wearing is sticking to your skin. it’s all that protects you from the steady downpour; no umbrella to be seen. you look small, tilting your head up, meeting his gaze. he feels the beginnings of a smile play at his lips. exasperated. all you do is blink, seemingly unbothered, as if you aren’t straight on the road to catching a cold. you can be a little scatterbrained. 

maybe that’s why he can’t help but dote on you.

(that’s what satoru calls it, at least. suguru thinks it’s just called being nice — not like satoru would know anything about that.)

”oh. no, i didn’t forget.” you scratch at the back of your neck. ”just didn’t know it was going to rain.”

the sudden downpour gave you no time to prepare, heavy and abrupt — clouds obscuring the glowing sun in what felt like no more than a second. like someone high above flicked the light switch of the world. all you could do was pull your hood up, try to walk under whatever apple tree you came across. it didn’t help much, though. 

you shift your weight from one foot to the other, soles weighed down with dew. sort of sheepish.

geto chuckles, raspy and soft. the sound makes your heart skip a beat. ”didn’t you see the weather report?”

”well, it… just slipped my mind, i guess.”

silently, you avert your gaze. now you remember — yaga-sensei did mention that, didn’t he? you heard him say it. but you just forgot.

geto is laughing at you, a little, from within his eyes; at least that’s the impression you get. so you continue, eager to defend your honour. 

”it’s fine, though,” you assure him, smiling brightly. a sunny grin. ”i like the rain!”

geto raises an unimpressed brow, but the expression fades away just as swiftly — giving way to something softer. ”you’re heading back to the dorms, right?” he asks, continuing once you give him a slight nod. ”then we can share.”

you blink. one moment passes, then two. but geto only smiles, shifting his umbrella a little, hoping you’ll get the hint. silently beckoning you over. 

it makes you feel oddly flustered.

in truth, you and him aren’t particularly close. he’s nice to you, sure, but geto is nice to everyone. you’d like to call him a friend, but what do you actually know about him? not much. 

suguru geto is a bit of an enigma. a little mysterious. he’s polite, well-mannered, and he seems like the most normal of your classmates — but the bar is in hell, because you know for a fact geto isn’t normal either. no normal guy deliberately chooses to keep his bangs like that. 

there’s a gap, there. a kind of inconsistency. he’s hard to approach, but he puts you at ease. pulls you in and scares you off. with a soft voice and kind smile, keen eyes and a heavy palm on your head. sometimes he brings you snacks when you study in the library, or helps you with homework. kind of like a dependable senpai. someone to lean on.

… but then there’s that gap. 

the real geto, who you’ve only seen glimpses of, only ever in gojo’s vicinity, is boyish and bright — he laughs and pouts and takes up space. he glows brighter than the sun. but the geto you’re seeing, right now, is more like the moon. wearing a polite, patient smile. standing up straight.

waiting for you to join him under his umbrella.

(he’s kind. but is he doing it because wants to, or because he feels obliged to?)

”… oh.” a pause. ”no, it’s fine!” you take a step back, quick to reassure him. ”i can walk there without it! i’m already soaked, anyway.”

geto observes you. for a moment, something in his expression flickers; a crease between his brows.

then he shakes his head. still wearing a comforting smile, the same one he always slips on when he’s around you. ”still. we don’t want you catching a cold,” he persists, sounding something like a nagging mother. ”you’ll miss the exam next week.”

and with that, your shoulders drop. 

right — the exam. the one you haven’t been studying for in the slightest, completely distracted by the feeling of summer in the air. the one you can’t fail, under any circumstances, because yaga-sensei can and will force you to take summer classes ad compensation. that exam. 

a wistful sigh leaves your lips. ”god, i wish.”

geto chuckles — a little deeper than usual. it makes your heart flutter. then he’s beckoning you over, again, with a slight shake of his head. 

”c’mon. there’s enough room for two.”

he gives you that same familiar smile, and you’re forced to admit that you might be slightly weak to it. something about the way his lips tug upwards, the light crinkle of his eyes. a certain glint in them that tells you he’s not budging on the issue. 

you’re still a little hesitant. but…

(this is a chance, isn’t it? a chance to bridge that gap between you.)

silently, shyly, you join him under his umbrella. shielding you from the still falling rain.

pitter patter, pitter patter. you don’t know where the rain ends and your own heartbeat begins. he’s so close — your shoulders nearly brushing together. it makes your nerves bubble up, in rhythm with the droplets bouncing off the cover up above. you feel stiff. the tiny, miniscule gap between you feels like a sweltering stove, radiating a heat that warns you to stay away. as if his touch could burn you. like this, you can even smell him; fresh laundry, an earthy cologne. the slightest hint of caffeine and tobacco. you blame it on shoko — the whole dormitory smells of cigarettes, thanks to her. 

it’s comforting, though. his scent. blending together with the aroma of rain, wet earth, blooming flowers. with his fragrance smoothing over all your senses, the closeness between you a constant reminder of the situation you’re in, you can’t bring yourself to look at him. 

all you do is murmur out a quick thanks, as you begin to walk, in tandem.

geto can’t help but steal a glance at you, out of the corner of his eye. you look a little meek, a little flustered. he hopes the narrow distance between you isn’t making you feel too uncomfortable. 

just to be sure, he angles his body away from yours. ever so slightly, one subtle step away, to make the gap a little wider. then, as discreetly as he can manage, he tilts the umbrella in your direction — not wanting the never-ending drops of rain to graze your skin. he can feel them, now, soaking through the material of his shirt, hitting his shoulder. but he doesn’t mind. to his relief, you don’t seem to notice. he’s pretty sure you’d protest; and as enjoyable as another friendly squabble would be, he’d prefer to avoid it for now.

you’re nice. accommodating, he thinks, in a subtle kind of way. always showing up with trinkets after your little outings, offering to get everyone a drink on your way to the vending machines. you’re friendly with the other two; always nagging at shoko to stop smoking, even when she just rolls her eyes and calls you a goody two shoes. recently, you’ve even started to be patient with satoru, even when he tries to get a rise out of you. it wasn’t like that at the start of the year. geto wonders what changed. 

he’s a little interested in you. just a little. you’re sweeter than the other two, easier to worry over. he saw you trip over your own shoelaces last week. you’re a little clumsy, a bit of a ditz — airheaded. maybe that’s why he can’t help but feel protective of you. satoru brushes everything off with a cheeky grin, and shoko is self-sustaining, but you’re often in need of a helping hand. the last time he tried that with the other two, they wouldn’t stop calling him mother geto until he smacked them over the head with satoru’s shounen jump issue. 

it makes him feel out of place — when he doesn’t have anything to tend to. itchy, a feeling of dread crawling up his throat. peace and quiet feels suffocating, when he isn’t in total control over it.

so, in his own way, small as it may be, geto enjoys taking care of you. grabbing you a carton of strawberry milk, or warding satoru away when he’s annoying you a little too much. he likes the smile you grace him with when he does. it’s pretty. and it’s all geto really knows about you — that, and that there’s a tenderness to you that’s hard to fake. it’s not much to go on.

so this is the perfect opportunity to learn more. 

(a heartfelt connection. something he’s always, always craved. something that maybe he can finally have, with satoru, and shoko, and you — 

if you’re willing, that is.)

”hey,” he starts, breaking the rainfilled silence. keeping his umbrella steady, leading you both away from a big puddle in the middle of the sidewalk. ”can i ask you something?”

you raise your head to look at him. blinking owlishly, at the sudden question, nerves beginning to rise again. he sounds kind of serious. did you do something? paranoia gnaws anxiously at the ridges of your ribs, but all you can do is swallow empty air and stammer out a meek reply.

”… uh, sure!”

geto glances over at you, his eyes meeting yours. that gaze of his is kind of heavy — the deep colour of his eyes coaxing you closer, luring you in. honey and amber, splotches of cedar and flecks of gold.

they’re pretty.

”this might be kind of a weird question,” he begins, reaching a hand up to adjust his bun, sneaking a finger under the black hair tie. voice light; to put you at ease. ”but i’m just curious.” 

he looks ahead, at the street before you, only meeting your stare once you give him a slight tilt of your head. then he parts his lips.

”why did you come here?”

you blink. 

silently, confusion painting the interior of your iris, you stare at him. waiting for a clarification that doesn’t come, before giving him a hesitant answer. ”… to get snacks?”

geto has the audacity to laugh, after such a vague question. the sound is light and breathy, melting together with the pitter patter of the rain, and for some reason it strikes you as sincere. ”not like that,” he grins. ”i mean, why did you come to the school in the first place?”

ah. 

that’s a different question. harder to answer. he must notice your hesitance, the puzzlement in your features, because he’s quick to elaborate. hiding a smile behind his fist, disguised as a cough.

(you’re sort of cute when you’re confused.)

”i mean — it’s an odd choice, isn’t it? far off the map, barely any students....” you nod along, and he continues. ”i don’t know about your background. but moving away from home must be kind of tough, right?” when he glances in your direction, you notice a sparkle of genuine curiosity in his eyes. ”so i was curious about your reason. if you feel comfortable telling me, i mean.”

a hum. it buzzes in your throat, absentminded, as you stare into space. brows furrowed. 

geto gives you time, as much time as you need, always willing to wait. for a minute or so, the only sounds that fill the space around you are the pitter patter of raindrops hitting the plastic cover of umbrella, and the sound of your shoes meeting puddles on the street. silently, you ponder the question. thinking of your answer.

geto has a point. you’ve been curious, too — about how your classmates ended up in such an eccentric little school, so detached from the rest of the world. a quirky private school in the middle of nowhere. you must all be a little eccentric yourselves. that’s probably why you feel so safe with them — you get the sense that you’re all lacking something. something that would ward normal kids away from such an unorthodox choice.

you could say you were just going with the flow. a relative of yours used to work with yaga-sensei, and heard about his position at a newly reinstated private school — heard that he was looking for students to fill the roster. 

so you accepted.

(if it was really that simple, geto would already have his answer.)

what drew you in, more than anything, was the promise of something new. a strange, small school, far away from home; from the people you know, the town you know, the life that you’ve lived. far away from the person you are, the person you was, the person you’ve always been.

an escape. that’s all it was. 

a way out.

he’s still waiting for your answer, even now, trying to read your thoughts off your face. eyes trailing over every contour. very briefly, you consider dodging the question — but his silent, steady presence squeezes a little honesty out of you. 

you want to give him a genuine answer.

”… i guess,” you begin, weighing the words on your tongue. they feel stale, a little awkward, but not dishonest. ”i wanted to stop being me for a bit.” 

the words are unexpected, surprising even to your own ears — like your mouth and your mind weren’t quite cooperating, one ahead of the other, one not weighing in on the honest choice. they catch geto off guard. 

he looks at you, silently, attempts to dissect your expression; but he doesn’t succeed. 

for a second, something flashes in his eyes. a glimmer that you just barely catch, that you can still sense behind his eyelids when they flutter shut. you’re not sure what to call it. recognition, maybe, or something like empathy. a sense of acknowledgement. it’s gone when he opens his eyes. 

he doesn’t look at you when he answers.

”… i get that.”

there’s a depth to his words that you’re afraid to uncover. you feel their weight, all the same, glancing up at him, studying his expression, the humid drops of dew that stick to his lashes. and you feel a tug. faint, non-existent, the string between your pinkies —

a growing connection. 

(it makes you feel oddly bare.)

all you can give him is a chuckle, a little breathless. ”do you?” you ask, grinning weakly. ”it’s a little melodramatic.”

geto only smiles. silent, comfort personified. there’s no judgement in his eyes, none whatsoever — because he knows exactly what you mean.

fleeing from the past. 

it’s a kind of murder, he thinks. a rebirth.

maybe the two of you are similar. similar in the sense that he recognizes the shadow in your eyes, the one he sometimes sees in mirrors; familiar in the sense that you both suffer from that same sickening awareness. 

(maybe you want the same thing he wants, what he’s always wanted — 

control.)

it’s a realization that creeps up on you, the both of you, slow and steady. a sense of kinship. it envelops you, cradles you close, in the same way molten clouds cover the summer sky.

geto isn’t lying, you can tell. he does get it. you know, just from that tilt of his voice, the way his eyelashes flutter, his absent shifting from one foot to another. and it soothes your worries.

everything is silent, for a bit. you look down at the asphalt, at your own reflection in a puddle, and geto gazes at the bushes of hydrangeas to his right. you feel safe, right next to him, under his umbrella. and he feels content to have you there. your shoulders brush together, for a moment, and it sends a jolt through your heartbeat.

geto inhales a breath.

”by the way —” 

”— have you studied for the exam?”

you both still. blurting out the words at the same time, turning to look at each other; sheepishly blinking in the other’s direction.

then he barks out a laugh.

”sorry,” he hums, a sleek smile on his lips. bright and sheepish. ”what was that? the exam?”

”ah — yeah,” you feel heat settle on the back of your neck, crawling up your ears. ”have you, um, studied for it at all?”

geto moves the umbrella from one arm to the other, smoothly directing you to stand on his right instead of his left. guiding you with his hand on your lower back, ghosting the fabric of your clothing. he stretches his free arm, a little stiff.

”yeah,” he exhales. ”not a lot, though.”

”really?” you blink up at him, trying not to blush at how easily he maneuvered you. stupid, stupid heartbeat. ”you strike me as the honour student type…”

geto scoffs. it leaves his lips before he can tug it back. ”satoru said the same thing.”

a breath spills from your lips, almost a chuckle. you’re not sure how to feel about being compared to gojo, of all people, but you’ll let it slide this once. ”well, you just kinda have that vibe.”

now he’s huffing, tethering on the edge of something childish, and your smile grows. you’re seeing him make a lot of new expressions today. 

”why, though?” comes a sigh. he must be playing it up, a little — you almost get fooled into thinking he’s pouting. ”is it the hair? i don’t even wear glasses anymore...”

”well —” you pause. ”hold on, you used to wear glasses?”

all you get is an absent hum. he doesn’t notice your wide, shellshocked eyes. ”when i was younger. i got rid of them a couple years back.”

“oh…” you try to imagine it, for a second. he’d look frighteningly good in them. just barely, you manage to keep yourself from saying it out loud. ”i think it’s more just your general personality. like, you’re responsible and polite… or something.”

and geto chuckles; the intersection between a teasing smile and a soft grin. it’s just a little bit ethereal, painted over with the humid summer air. he turns towards you.

”and that makes me an honour student?” 

”… okay, maybe not.” you bring a hand up to your hair, fixing it absently. deflating a little. ”you just strike me as intelligent, i guess.”

geto smiles, again, as always. the chuckle that escapes him is faint and fond, and awfully soft, dripping down his lips. ”well, thank you.” 

his eyes are warm, burning into yours. all you can do is glance away. you still don’t really understand this sensation — why he’s suddenly so easy to talk to. why he feels like something other than just a classmate, when he looks at you like that. 

then again, geto has always been a natural at putting people at ease. maybe that’s why you can’t help but warm up to him, compliantly, the way a child dutifully follows the first butterfly they ever see — it’s a little too pretty to resist. 

you want to slip deeper into his world, you realize. you don’t want this moment to end so soon.

”you guys really get along, huh?” you change the subject, speaking slowly, savouring every syllable. there isn’t any rush to get the words out all at once, when you’re with him. 

geto blinks, tilting his head. 

”hm?”

“you and gojo, i mean.”

a glimmer passes through his eyes, as your query sinks in. ”ah. yeah.” his gaze strays upwards, and a contemplative look settles into his face. he knows what you’re after, what you’re really asking; why are the two of you so close? why do you put up with his antics? 

what do you see in him? 

he thinks it’s a fair question. it’s not like he hasn’t asked himself the very same thing, before — satoru can be annoying. ignorant, too, and terribly rude. a little prick. when he stole his curry bun yesterday, geto wanted to kill him. spoiled little brat.

(then again, he’s…)

”he’s… well.” geto exhales, a little breathless. tasting the words on his tongue. ”you know how he is — but he’s not a bad guy.” 

and it’s true. he really isn’t. satoru is a lot of things; rude and spoiled, cocky and bratty, an expert at ticking everyone off. but there’s a kind of charm, there. an innocence that geto admires. 

satoru is childish — because he is a child. a child who knows a lot of things that children shouldn’t know. a child who doesn’t know the most basic of things. satoru doesn’t know how to make friends. he doesn’t know how to ask for help, doesn’t know how to give it. he doesn’t know what cotton candy tastes like, because he’s never tried it before. 

his childhood couldn't have been very warm. it definitely wasn’t normal. 

is that why he puts up with him, then? out of pity? of course not. the bare thought of it leaves a bad taste in his mouth. he’d never look down on satoru, like that — and he knows he’d hate him for it. if anything, geto thinks that maybe the two of them are close because he doesn’t give him any special treatment. even if satoru wasn’t treated with warmth or love, he was certainly coddled. spoiled. it’s evident, in the way that he acts.

but satoru isn’t a god, and he shouldn’t act like one. 

one punch, right across the face; knocking the white-haired boy off his feet. that’s where their friendship began. there were stars in satoru’s eyes, geto thinks, when he looked up at him from the ground. sunglasses fallen off from the impact, blue eyes entirely on display, catching the light of the sun — gleaming with a certain bewilderment. almost amazement. like he didn’t know he could be hit, didn’t know it was possible. the sun shone down on him, illuminating the vague bruising on his cheek, and geto wondered if that was the first punch the boy had ever taken.

it certainly wasn’t a first for him, when satoru lunged at him next —

it was a little juvenile. more than a little deranged. geto isn’t one to throw fists, in the first place — he’s out of practice. the punch he fed satoru might’ve been a little too forceful. he couldn’t help but feel bad, every so slightly, for putting a bruise on that irritatingly pretty face of his. 

but it still ended with satoru’s arm around his shoulder, a buzzing voice by his ear, proclaiming them as friends. cheery and bright.

geto couldn’t help but echo the statement.

(satoru is a lot of things. 

most of all, he’s really hard to hate.)

geto’s answer brings a smile to your face. ”yeah,” you hum, soft voice breaking him out of his reverie. ”he isn’t.”

he looks at you. silently, a question of his own brewing in his irises — and with you so close, close enough to touch, smiling at him like he’s an old friend… geto can’t help but indulge in his own curiosity. 

he tries to appear nonchalant, stealing a glance at you out of the corner of his eye. ”seems like the two of you are getting along better, too.” 

”me and gojo?” you blink, surprised. a little flustered. huffing out an amused breath, trying to brush off the bare thought. ”no way.”

geto laughs — it’s a deep sound, a full one. somehow very earnest. you wonder if that’s how his laugh always sounds, whenever gojo’s involved. ”oh, come on. you don’t hate him that much.” a teasing glint blooms in his eyes, as he scrutinizes you. ”or am i wrong?”

you pause. faltering, a little, gaze falling down to the pavement — then to the sky — then to him. and then back to the pavement. 

”… i mean…” you attempt to squeeze the words out from within your chest, but you can’t help but feel hesitant. as if gojo could jump out of the bushes at any moment, ready to tease you if you say anything that paints him in an even moderately decent light. ”i don’t… hate him. but he’s still annoying.” a pout slips onto your lips. “he has it out for me, you know.”

geto laughs, again. you note that you’re fond of the sound. ”isn’t that because he likes you, though? he just doesn’t know how to show it. it’s like pulling pigtails.”

”don’t even joke about that,” you scoff, shooting him a scowl. “and that wouldn’t make it any better, even if it was true.”

a fond smile. ”yeah, you’re right.” he opts to dial down on the teasing, shifting into a more sincere tone. ”you do seem more friendly now, though. before it felt like you really hated his guts.”

a hum buzzes in your throat. brows furrowing, as you mull on what to answer with. unsure how you really feel. it’s not like you’re suddenly super close, or anything — but you have gotten friendlier. just by a smidge, but still. you’ve gotten better at putting up with him and his antics, at finding comfort in how open he can be.

after a tiny pause, you speak up. 

”… i still don’t really understand him.” you gnaw at the skin of your bottom lip, trapping it between your teeth. “but i think i might be starting to.” 

you’re a little embarrassed over the words that fall from your lips, barely above a whisper. 

”… he’s not the worst.”

geto smiles, but you don’t see it — gaze still lingering on the droplets that bounce off the pavement. ”i’m glad,” he hums, earnest. ”that guy needs more friends.”

something about his tone of voice urges you to look at him. that smile of his is bright, gleaming in the rain, in the midst of the flowers all around you. a little teasing, a little boyish, but somehow very sincere. you didn’t think you’d get to see it up close.

and you can’t help but chuckle. the raven-haired boy glances over at you, confusion in his eyes.

noticing it, you breathe out a quiet chuckle. ”sorry, it’s just —” a teasing grin smooths over your lips. ”you guys bicker a lot, and you act like he annoys you… but you really care for him, don’t you?”

this time, geto almost stops in his tracks. his eyes widen, slightly, and you’re not sure why he seems surprised — when he always sounds so fond saying satoru’s name, talking about him like they understand each other fully. maybe he didn’t notice it until now. 

a moment passes, before he collects himself, clearing his throat and averting his gaze. awfully good at keeping his composure. 

(though he fails to fully conceal the flustered look on his face.)

”i wouldn’t go that far,” he mumbles, but it only makes you chuckle again. his lips curl up slightly, at the sound; despite his embarrassment. ”someone’s gotta look out for that idiot.”

”right. of course.”

geto gives you a displeased little look. you bite back a laugh. feeling at ease, by his side — you get the sense that you can trust him, that you could tell him absolutely anything, and he still wouldn't use it against you. it’s a relief.

standing there, under geto’s umbrella, in the shadow of summer, rain obscuring the world — you reach a definitive conclusion.

you want to get to know him. want to see inside his heart, hear more of his thoughts. if you could only step over that gap between you, wriggle your way into his world — 

you think you’d be happy.

so, as you walk side by side, narrowly avoiding puddles and breathing in the humid summer air, you try to coax them out of him. little thoughts, bits and pieces of the suguru geto you yearn to meet.

(unbeknownst to you, he’s doing the same.)

you continue to talk. about miniscule things, meaningless things, a comfortable sensation of trust simmering in the air between you. and before you know it, you’ve stepped onto the school grounds, stopping right in front of the dormitory.

”here we are,” geto hums, folding the umbrella and tucking it between his arm and torso. you turn to look him in the eye, taking an absent step away.

”thanks, geto,” you can’t help but smile. ”for letting me walk with you.”

”don’t mention it.” he brushes you off with ease, quick to drag the door open; waiting for you to step inside before following suit. always so accommodating. 

for a second, he hesitates. a glimmer of uncertainty, in his eyes, that you miss — stretching out your tired limbs with a shallow groan, enjoying the warm and dry air on your skin. 

finally, geto takes the leap.

when he parts his lips, his voice comes out soothing. natural and breathy, floral patterns blooming on his tongue; as silky as jasmine petals. ”you can call me suguru, you know.” he lets the silence linger, for a moment. ”if you want to.”

you turn to look at him, eyes widening, at the sudden offer, and he can’t get a good read on the emotion reflected in them. you seem caught off guard, but he can’t tell if it’s a good or bad thing.

after a moment or two, you fumble for a response. 

”oh. um — okay? i will, then.” you shake your head, as if brushing off the hesitance you feel, mustering the courage to imitate his offer. ”in that case, you can call me by my first name, too.” 

a brief pause. 

”… if you want to.”

geto smiles. it’s laced with relief, hard to notice, impossible to miss. instead of answering with an affirmation, he takes a more teasing approach — unable to resist the temptation.

so he says your name. your first name, dragging the syllables out on his tongue, as if tasting it. trying to get used to the way the letters bend as they come out of his mouth. despite the teasing lilt it carries, the sound is oddly earnest; he pronounces it clearly, like he’s trying to call you to his side. you almost feel compelled to take a step towards him. 

geto looks you in the eye, as he calls you by your given name, for the very first time — and you can’t help but grow flustered.

”… suguru,” you echo, for whatever reason. you think your brain may be slightly fried. but it feels right, to say it. suguru. 

(what a pretty name.)

suguru smiles at you. you think it’s just a little wider than usual, a little more sincere. almost giddy, if you squint. in the open air, the intimate atmosphere simmers.

finally, you clear your throat, glancing in the direction of your dorm room. a silent que for him to follow.

and he does. leaving the umbrella by the hall, before walking you to your door. his steady, soothing presence sticking to your skin. you’re just about to place your fingers on the doorknob, when a pang of realization hits you — stopping you in your tracks.

”oh — right!”

swiftly, you turn on your heel, facing suguru again. he gazes down at you, bemusement in his eyes. watching as you rummage through the plastic bag hanging off your arm. finally, you find what you were looking for; holding it out towards him. 

”here,” you give him a warm smile. ”as thanks.”

suguru accepts it, compliantly, allowing you to slip a pack of gum into his palm. he recognizes the brand, one he favours over others. it helps him, on days he can’t find his appetite. 

did you see him chewing it at some point, he wonders? when, though? 

maybe you’re always paying attention to the people around you. the way they like their coffee, their favoured flavour of gum. it may be a small kindness, an absentminded one, but suguru thinks that makes it all the more meaningful. a kindness that seeps out of you, that draws him in. 

he wants to know more, about you. he really does.

but for now, this is enough. a walk back to your dorm, your shared home, talking and growing closer than before. 

it’s a small step, but in the right direction. 

the pack of gum stirs a mellow, tender feeling in his chest. all he can do is give you a smile, and a thank you that you’re quick to brush off. then you say your goodbyes, and you close the door behind you — flopping down on your bed with a muffled squeal. a giddy kind of excitement swimming in your veins. because finally, finally, you feel like the gap between you has been dented.

you know what his real laugh sounds like. that the tips of his ears turn pink when he’s embarrassed. you know that he used to wear glasses, that you’re a little more similar than either of you could have assumed.

you know that you’re fond of him. fond of a boy with black hair, who smells of summer and rain and chewing gum. fond of a boy you’ve only scratched the surface of.

on the other side of the door, suguru walks back to his room. with a pep in his step, one that satoru notices — because of course he does — appearing from around the corner with a shit-eating grin.

“oh? what were you doing over there, suguru?”

suguru ignores him. popping a piece of the gum you gave him into his mouth, a flavour of apricot melting on his tongue — he sinks his teeth into it, slowly, feeling his lips curl up into a smile.

it tastes of summer and youth. a memory that both of you will savour, for many years to come.

[hannieehaee]

18+ / mdi

content: perv!wonwoo, established relationship, afab reader, smut, fingering, oral (f receiving), dry humping, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 2215

a/n: u can assume this is pt. 2 to this or just read on its own. they're not rlly connected at all but same premise 😭

masterlist

being wonwoo's girlfriend was quite an experience. when you'd first met the boy, - courtesy of an introduction through your mutual friend kim mingyu - he had seemed like an absolute gentleman. he was even a little more shy and reserved than most other guys, something you had found adorable during your first few dates. the shy looks and touches at the beginning of the relationship made your heart soar, but they didnt last too long. it wasnt until the relationship got a bit more serious that you got to know the real wonwoo.

although he still treated you like absolute royalty in every aspect possible, providing everything you could ever need and granting every wish you could even imagine, you hadn't realized how much of a pervert your boyfriend truly was until a few weeks into the relationship.

it wasnt like it was a huge issue. and its not like you were against his very obvious obsession with touching you, no. you welcomed it, even. who would be against the constant touch of a jeon wonwoo? denying him would feel like insanity for you, but it could sometimes get in the way of things.

it had just been getting out of hand as of late. you were on a call? too bad, he's rubbing his fingers on your pussy. need to wash dishes? he's eating your pussy from behind. gotta shower? he's stepping in and fucking you against the wall. you need to leave early in the morning? he's holding you back and fucking you into the mattress. your body was bruised and sore (in all the best ways possible) because he just could not be around you without dragging orgasm after orgasm out of you. it was pure, never ending pleasure, but it came with never ending interruptions in your every day life.

like now, as you tried to innocently watch a movie with your boyfriend. you knew it was coming, but you still allowed yourself to be caught off guard when wonwoo slowly scooted closer and closer until he was able to sneak his hand into your loose pajama shorts. without even saying anything, he began to rub at you, causing you to lose focus on what was playing on screen, eyes becoming heavy.

"nonu ... the movie," you whined half-heartedly, still wanting to watch the movie but also enjoying his soft touches too much to actually attempt to push him away.

"shh, baby. keep watching the movie," he kept rubbing at you, getting you wetter and wetter by the second, up until he determined you were wet enough for him to slip his fingers in, getting you to whine his name in the way he loved. your eyes closed as his fingers toyed with you, hitting all your favorite spots as you became putty under his hands.

"didn't you wanna watch the movie, baby? what happened? open your eyes for me," he was evil when he got like this. your pleasure was his only focus, but he would only give it to you under his own terms.

you attempted to open your eyes, but your body was working against you, causing you to writhe desperately at the way his thumb had moved up to softly toy with your clit while his pointer and middle finger pistoned in and out of you at a speed your body couldn't process.

"nonu! nonu, please, fuck ..." the high pitch of your voice gave you away without having to warn him of your impending orgasm. he knew all your tells by now, being fully aware that just a few more seconds and he'd have his fingers drenched by you.

"c-cumming! non-u!"

he removed his fingers from you, not bothering to wipe them before slipping them in your mouth without warning. "tasty. right, baby?", he chuckled to himself at your surprised yelp at the sudden intrusion in your mouth.

he snuck his hand right back in your shorts and gathered a bit more of your essence to stick in his own mouth, humming at the taste, "yeah, so fucking good," he scooted to your side, cuddling against you as you still caught your breath before pointing at the movie still playing on screen, "thank you, baby. now tell me what i missed?"

~

you were running a bit late today. you had stayed up late with wonwoo last night, doing things you were too ashamed to say out loud. so you weren't too surprised when you'd woken up and realized you had missed your usual alarm due to your heavy sleep. but it was fine! if you rushed, you could still get ready quickly enough to arrive at a respectable time. the only issue was, you were still buried against wonwoo's chest, strong arms wrapped around you as you felt him press himself up against you. you were pretty sure he was still sleeping, yet not surprised at realizing he was horny even in his sleep.

"nonu? are you asleep?", you attempted to peek at him from your angle, but only catching sight of a fluffy head of hair resting against your back.

he simply groaned in response, snuggling impossibly closer to you, causing you to feel him even more.

"wonwoo, i need to go ..."

"no you dont," he powered through half a sentence even in his sleepy state, "you still got time, don't you baby?"

"im gonna be late, nonu."

he began to unwrap himself from you, making you believe he was moving aside so that you could get up, except he had only disconnected from you so that he could get a better angle to begin to hover his body over yours.

"you have time, though. right, baby? just need five minutes," he mumbled as he began to press kisses to your neck.

your body betrayed you yet again, as you tilted your head to the side to give him more room to kiss on you, "i ... nonu, i'm already late," you left your arms limp on your sides, trying to not indulge on the man above you, but he kept instigating you with his touches.

"don't worry, hmm? ill be quick. you wont be late. promise."

you knew this to be a lie, but the moment he started grinding his hips against yours, you were gone. there was no longer any room for rational thinking in your now-empty head. your arms had now admitted defeat in pretending not to want to seek his touch, now lifting up to grab at his back as he canted his hips down. it was all very soft and slow, very much unlike wonwoo, but you couldnt blame him considering last night's events, when he'd quite literally fucked you into the mattress until the late hours of the night.

he seemed to grow tired of the mere friction after a few minutes, preferring to find your warmth instead. there was no need to undress, since you'd both remained in your nude forms from last night. he slipped in with no problem, groaning out your name into your ear at the feeling. he expressed his pleasure in a wide array of expletives against your ear, breath warm and heavy.

"you're always so tight, baby. so perfect for me."

"cant be away from this pussy for too long or i go insane. but you know that, dont you, baby?"

"driving me fucking insane, shit. pressing up against me all night. thinking i wont just fuck you into the mattress all over again."

"gonna keep this pussy here all day. gonna make sure you can't make it out of bed, baby. would you like that?"

his words had you feeling lightheaded, scratching your nails along the length of his back as he eventually sped up, clearly in search of his climax. wonwoo was always a little extra sensitive in the mornings, something about how pretty and warm you look after waking up, he'd once said. you felt the same, finally looking up to make eye contact with the pretty boy currently hitting your cervix over and over. the softness of his features early into the morning, still tired but simultaneously full of energy to fuck you with made you shudder.

wonwoo came first, filling you to the brim as he began to rub at your clit, wanting you to climax with him. you'd only finished a few seconds later, as he was barely coming down from his own high.

you both fell limp against the bed, side by side as you attempted to catch your breaths.

"baby ..." he spoke up first, "just call in sick. you're already late. i'll make it worth your while ..."

you didn't even need to respond, knowing your body would betray you once again.

~

it was a regular saturday. and every saturday you had the luxury of staying home, free of work. wonwoo had a tendency of matching his days off with yours, wanting to spend the very little free time you had together. unfortunately, most days off were spent running errands and doing household chores, which is what you were doing right now.

you'd usually split the household duties with wonwoo, alternating between what each of you would do. this week it was your turn to do the laundry, while wonwoo took care of vacuuming. you usually enjoyed doing the laundry, but unfortunately for you, this week you had to wash all your towels and sheets on top of the usual load of laundry. but you did it with no complaint, knowing your also-tired boyfriend was currently helping out with his part.

you focused on the laundry for a while, separating what needed to go on different loads while humming along to the song playing from your phone. that is, until you felt something, or rather, someone creep up on you from behind. suddenly hands had appeared on your hips, and a new warmth pressed up against your back. it was wonwoo, of course. unable to keep his hands off you once again.

"nonu, did you finish vaccuming?", you asked, barely reacting to his sudden touch, being completely used to him grabbing at you at any and every possible time.

he simply hummed against you, beginning to let his hands wander, landing on your breasts as he interrupted your folding of clothes.

you sighed, seeming frustrated but not actually being so, "wonwoo, i need to finish the laundry. later, okay?"

"baby ... c'mon. you want it too, i know you," with this, he began to fondle your tits, pinching at your nipples through your clothes and beginning a slow grind against you. he was hard again, at no one's surprise.

as anyone may have guessed, it didn't take long for him to get you to open your legs for him, sitting atop the drier as he hammered into you, banging your bodies against the harsh material of the machine. it was an uncomfortable position, granted, but the pleasure wonwoo always managed to give you overpowered any discomfort.

"n-nonu! shit, right there!", the lower angle in which he was ramming himself at was making you see stars, enjoying the way his pelvis ground against your clit.

he didn't tend to be too vocal, usually sticking to low groans and dirty talk against your ear, which is what he was doing once more.

"hate doing chores baby. just want your pussy .. hate how busy we are lately. gotta fuck you whenever i can. gotta keep you nice and full."

and full he kept you. having either fucked, sucked or gagged you multiple times throughout the rest of the day. his reasoning kept being that today was your one day off that matched both your schedules, and that he'd wanted to take full advantage of it. even after finishing inside you after fucking you on top of the drier for fifteen minutes, he moved on immediately to face you against him, lowering himself to the floor in order to lick at you from behind, eating some of his own cum in the process.

"so fucking tasty. jesus, baby you're perfect."

it was insane to you how insatiable the once shy boy was when it came to your body, but now wasn't the time to think about that. not when you were too busy throwing your head back and pushing your ass against his face in order to get him to lick and suck more at your swollen cunt.

he loved how responsive you were. never denying him and always enthusiastically letting him get away with whichever perverted escapade he wanted at the moment. the thought of his pretty baby being so nice and ready for him at all times made him shove his face even closer to you, sucking at your clit in a way that made you scream out his name. cumming came soon after, having felt overly sensitive after getting no break between your orgasms. you finished with yet another scream of his name, almost dropping on top of him as he lightly licked at you through your high.

"you okay?," he asked after getting up, helping you lean against the dryer in order to not drop due to your wobbly legs.

"you need to stop fucking me every five minutes, nonu. you're gonna render me useless," you chuckled out of breath, despite not meaning your words.

"yeah? let's test that theory out."

[feeder86]

The Feeders' Fortress

It was the dirty floor against his face that Mike noticed first. His head felt fuzzy and the room was so incredibly dark. It was impossible to work out where he was. He stumbled groggily to his feet, realising that he was dressed only in his underwear. What the hell kind of party had he been to last night to wake up here? Then again, had he been to a party last night? His head was so disorganised.

Reaching around the space, Mike tried to find his clothes and, hopefully, his cell phone so that he could find some light. As he did so, he heard footsteps creeping outside of the room and, for the first time, a streak of light through the crack under the door.

“There’s another one in here!” cried a deep masculine voice as the door opened and Mike suddenly had a small torch shone straight into his face. “Same as us. Underwear. No clothes in sight.”

“What’s going on?” Mike asked indignantly.

“Your guess is as good as ours,” sighed another voice beside the person shining the torch. He reached out his hand and lowered the light so that Mike was no longer blinded. Where the light touched, Mike could see the dilapidated interior of the house he was in: filthy, boarded up and crumbling. Tired, dated pieces of furniture lay haphazardly around the edges of the room, some covered poorly with dust sheets.

“What is this place?” Mike mumbled, getting to his feet.

“Someone’s creepy idea of a joke, no doubt,” came another voice as the footsteps of the guys entered the room. “It looks like your classic haunted mansion. All the windows and doors are locked tight and we haven’t found the way out yet.”

“If there even is one,” replied a pessimistic voice.

“Of course there is,” disputed the guy holding the torch who had seemed to appoint himself the leader. “We got in here somehow, didn’t we? So there has to be a way out.”

The others sighed. None of them claimed to know how they had arrived, each arguing their alternative theories about why they were there. None of them had before. They were all strangers. But, to Mike, there was one clear detail that each of them had in common: outstandingly good looks.

Finn, holding the torch, was a quarterback for the local college team and, even in the limited lighting, Mike could tell that the guy was more strapping than anyone he had ever seen on the pitch. The person standing beside him was Oliver; even taller and toned to absolute perfection. Like Mike, he did some modelling whilst studying in college. Mike knew the agency that he worked for and, whilst the other two were arguing about which direction to search next, the pair discussed the surprising stresses they had encountered with certain jobs they had done. The only other guy was Rob, another football jock for a rival team of Finn’s, though neither of them claimed to know the other. He was built for clear functional athleticism, with the lightest six pack of all of them and a meaty, muscular butt. Delicious.

Even now, in this bizarre situation, Mike could feel himself getting aroused in their presence: these three gorgeous, practically naked boys. Together, they were calm, even jovial. They bolstered each other’s confidence, methodically searching the large building as if they were trying to hide the fact that they were silently terrified. There had to be answers to their questions somewhere in this building.

“What’s down there, do you think?” Oliver asked as they shone the torch down some stairs. 

Out of habit, Mike flicked the light switch, expecting nothing to happen, when suddenly, the whole room below lit up perfectly.

“Success!” roared Finn, heading straight down; soon followed by the others, at quite some pace.

What lay below was the most bizarre of sights: a small, neatly made up dining table, filled with tasty treats: cakes, doughnuts, cookies and pastries; all fresh and smelling incredible. Such a homely scene lightened the mood further, with Finn and Rob heading to sit down at the table and Mike following them, if only to hide the tightness in his crotch which would be clearly evident in this well lit room.

“I knew we’d be alright! This just proves it. It’s definitely some sort of prank,” Finn smiled, reaching out for one of the doughnuts.

Oliver stood to the side, surveying the scene with more scepticism. “Isn’t this a bit fucking weird?” he asked. “This whole place is a shit hole, and now this?” he pointed at the homely scene before him.

“Relax!” Finn scoffed at him, already chewing on a bite of the doughnut. “It tastes fine.”

Rob reached out next, picking up a pastry, now that Finn had sampled the goods. Meanwhile, Mike had his eye on one of the cupcakes, feeling surprisingly hungry after waking up here. Eventually, even Oliver followed them to the table,sitting down at the fourth chair, picking up a cookie and nibbling it with only a small amount of hesitancy.

Under the light, it was clear just how beautiful these guys all were. Mike found himself trying not to stare for fear that his erection may get even more severe if they all had to get up soon and explore the place some more. The mood was relaxed and surprisingly light-hearted as Finn reached for a second and third doughnut before any of the others had even finished their first chosen snack.

“Who do you think made all these?” Oliver asked the guys.

“Whoever it is pranking us,” Rob replied, scanning the room for cameras as he sat at the table.

Mike sat up nervously. He didn’t want to be on camera right now. Not with his erection as it was.

Mike suddenly felt a slight prod on his arm as Oliver looked at him seriously, pointing across to Finn. The movement caught Rob’s attention as well, until all three of them were gazing at a now motionless Finn, staring down at the table and seemingly stunned after finishing his third doughnut.

“Are you alright, buddy?” Rob asked, noting the sweat that was glistening on Finn’s face.

Finn looked up slowly until his eyes met with Mike’s right across the table from him. His jaw was slack as he picked himself up by leaning his strapping body on the table. Then, from out of nowhere, a giant burp erupted from his throat, right in front of Mike. It was so loud and deep, completely unnatural after such light snacks, making the three others stare across in panic.

“What the fuck?” Oliver asked, standing up in alarm, sensing immediately that something was wrong. It was then that Mike noticed that Finn was not as slim as he had thought; that for all his muscles, he was actually carrying a little paunch that looked bizarrely out of place.

FInn’s hips started to rock, like he was fucking some invisible girl in front of him, and, even in his loose fitting trunks, it was clear to Mike that the guy was also nursing an erection.

“What’s he doing?” Rob shouted; his eyes similarly caught by the shape of Finn’s stomach. Each time the guy rocked back and forth, the budding love handles at his sides seemed to swell more and more.

At some point, all three of them realised what was happening. It was the way Finn’s gut began to flutter and jiggle with the shaking. Fat was ballooning in his stomach, actually pushing it outwards. The relaxed fit of his underwear began to disappear as the gentle creases stretched out and the material tightened around him, spurred on by an obvious widening of his tight butt. It was then that Mike began to observe even Finn’s chest starting to succumb; his nipples pointing and a softness spreading into his pecs. It seemed to bloom and spread itself under his arms, softening up his biceps at the same time and swelling his neck; producing a shameful double chin.

Oliver was still the only one up, with Mike and Rob still stunned in their seats. Then, without warning, Rob suddenly bolted for the stairs, grabbing the torch at the same time.

“What do we do?” Oliver asked Mike in pure panic, clearly desperate to follow Rob and get the hell out of there.

Finn’s sweaty body glistened as fat spread throughout. The blubber began to pour itself over the tight waistband of the guy’s underwear, now digging in quite painfully. Mike could see the guy looking down at himself in shock and alarm: his beautiful body becoming more and more obese.

Mike had no answer for what was happening or what on Earth they were supposed to do about it. He could see Oliver looking back towards the dark stairs; no sign of Rob at all. More than once, Mike thought that Oliver might run off in fear as well. If he did, Mike decided he was going to run straight out with him.

A general widening seemed to take place in Finn’s body. The love handles pushed out to further extents and his hips swelled above the two extremely blubbery thighs. The guy’s cute underwear had allowed his large, sweaty glutes to slip out as the inflation took hold. Now the material began to tear; stretched as they were in every direction.

Within no time at all, Mike realised that Finn was now carrying an insane amount of fat on his body; 400 lbs? 450? His underwear were reduced to little more than rags, still dangling from a destroyed waistband; an entire sack of lard now filling Finn’s groin. 

Oliver bolted, quickly followed by a petrified Mike, throwing himself up the pitch-black stairs. “Wait up!” he cried out in horror, wincing as his feet stepped over the debris and dust. All he could do was follow the sounds of Oliver’s lightning footsteps. 

Suddenly, Mike felt himself bumping straight into Oliver, knocking them both to the floor.

“Watch it!” Oliver grumbled. “What the hell were you running for? We can barely see a thing!”

Mike’s mouth filled with all the things he wanted to say and then, just as quickly as they arrived, nothing. Why was he running? Had something scared him? No. He would have remembered that. He shuffled to his feet. “Sorry,” he mumbled, feeling rather silly. “I must have just been trying to catch you up.”

Oliver shushed him and the pair listened intently as voices came from another wing of the enormous house. They began stepping in the same direction, noticing faint glows of the torch around one corner.

“But this is the way I came in!” argued a new voice. “The door was open, and now…” he shouted, banging forcefully on what appeared to be the front door.

“Oh, thank heavens!” Oliver bellowed, finally spotting Rob standing next to a police officer. 

The relief that Mike felt was indescribable. Tall, built and appearing nothing but strong and capable, the police officer turned to face them both, shining a second torch in their faces.

“Is this all of you?” the cop asked. 

“No, there’s another guy,” Rob mumbled, as if he couldn’t quite remember exactly. “Finn. He’s downstairs somewhere. He was eating some food we found,” he continued; his voice wispy, like he was trying to piece something together. He’s pretty big and heavy though. I don’t suppose he wants to go walking all around this place at that size.”

Mike nodded, realising that Rob was probably right. That must have been why Finn stayed down in the basement. 

“Well, this door has locked behind me. I don’t have any signal on my cell phone and there doesn’t seem to be any reception for me to contact the station on my radio,” the cop explained grumpily. “I guess you had better take me to see this Finn guy so that I can check on him too,” he finally decided, slamming into the heavy door one final time, just in case it budged at all. 

Oliver and Mike took one torch, whilst the cop and Rob walked ahead with the other.

“Do you think he’s a real cop?” Oliver whispered to Mike. “This whole thing just seems to be getting weirder and weirder, don’t you think?”

Mike pondered the idea. He’d not imagined that the cop was not genuine. But Oliver was right. Here he was, wandering around, almost naked in an abandoned mansion with no idea how late at night it was. Absolutely anything was possible.

“Where exactly are we?” he shouted ahead to the cop. “How did you know to come looking here?”

The cop began explaining the exact location of the mansion. “This old place has been crumbling for years,” the guy stated, after informing them all how far out of the city they were right now. “We used to get calls about trespassers quite a lot, but that all stopped about six months ago. Until tonight.”

In the dim light, Mike could feel Oliver looking at him from the side. The guy wasn’t trusting a word that was coming out of the cop’s mouth. 

“Something’s up with Rob,” Oliver whispered a few moments later, when they had slowed their pace to allow the other two to go even further ahead, in search of the stairs to the basement. “Have you noticed how much he is sweating?”

Mike shone the light a little more on Rob. Oliver’s observations were spot on. The guy’s broad back was glistening with sweat, running down his back and drenching into his boxers, all down his butt crack. Something about it all seemed so familiar, although Mike couldn’t put his finger on why. Was this a bad sign? Was it something to be feared?

“We need to keep our distance from him,” Oliver decided, pulling Mike back a little bit more to let the cop and Rob get even more ahead of them. They kept a slow pace behind and waited as the pair eventually found the staircase down to the basement, heading straight down.

“What’s going on?” Mike asked, feeling that Oliver’s senses were sharper than his own; his instincts better.

Oliver rubbed his face, clearly stressed. “I don’t know!” he sighed. “But something tells me it’s going to be me and you finding our way out of here. I don’t trust that cop, and as for Rob…” he whispered. “I just have this really bad feeling.”

Suddenly, the cop was shouting at the top of his voice from the basement, startling both Oliver and Mike.

“WHAT THE FUCK?” he blasted. “What are you doing?”

Racing down, Oliver took the lead, standing on the staircase in front of Mike as they looked on at the scene. Rob’s body was rocking and shaking, his tight abs suddenly swollen and buried. The cop stood crouched to the side, his gun out and seemingly very afraid. Whatever was taking over Rob had a very firm grip on his body; thrashing him about as his stomach continued to grow.

In those moments, Mike suddenly remembered what he had witnessed happening to Finn. How could he ever have forgotten? There Finn was, snoozing on the floor, encased in mountains of fresh fat.

“What’s going on?” the cop demanded of Oliver and Mike.

“The food!” Mike mumbled, seeing it all there, continuing to invite them in. “There’s something in the food!” he stated with more certainty as Rob’s fine torso began to be consumed with an onslaught of blubber, swelling into his pecs and rounding out his stomach so that it pushed out further and further. The guy was panicking, managing to waddle around as his body shook, and he gazed at all the food that Mike was now blaming. Just what was it doing to him?

“But we ate the food as well,” Oliver shot back, terrified and transfixed as Rob’s butt widened in those cute little boxers of his; fat starting to crease the skin on his back and love handles swelling out further every single second. The butt crack began to peak out as the glutes grew; little more than an inch to begin with, then more and more; until his super sized butt was almost entirely outside of the underwear. That was when it ripped at the weaker stitching between his lardy legs and the material began to deteriorate quickly; all the elastic stretched beyond its capacity.

Mike put a comforting hand on Oliver’s strong shoulder, hoping to ease his worries in any way that he could.

The cop had fallen to the ground, backing up into the corner by the stairs and holding his gun out still; no longer so big, strong and tough.

Oliver reached his hand up and lovingly held Mike’s own hand upon his shoulder. Despite everything, the sensation of Oliver’s touch was all Mike needed.

Rob had fallen onto the floor, the transformation seemingly at an end, and a deathly silence filled the room.

“We’re fucked!” Oliver sighed. “Absolutely fucked!” He looked at Mike, his eyes full of concern for him. “Will it be us next, do you think?” he asked Mike, still holding his hand sweetly.

At that moment, Mike felt so completely smitten. Yet he nodded. “I think so,” he agreed sadly.

“What the hell are you on about?” the cop demanded of them both, still clearly terrified from what he had just seen. “Food can’t do that to someone! Not like that, anyway.”

“There’s no other way to explain it,” Oliver shrugged. “It took Finn first because he had eaten the most. Now Rob…”

The police officer stared hard at the two enormously fat guys on the floor and then looked in amazement at all the food still resting on the table. But then, his eyes widened even further and he stood up in horror. “Those doughnuts!” he shouted, looking straight at the unusually colourful and sprinkled treats on the table. “There was one just like it on my desk earlier! I thought it was from one of my colleagues.”

Mike and Oliver looked at each other with worry. Was the guy who was here to rescue them, actually just another victim? 

“But did you eat it?” Oliver demanded of him.

“Yes, I ate it!” the cop shouted back, getting angry now. He seemed to feel faint, getting hot under the collar and putting back his gun so that he could take off his shirt.

Again, Mike and Oliver looked at each other. Why was the cop getting so sweaty all of a sudden? They watched as he shuffled around, leaning against the side, kicking off his shoes and even pulling off his socks, as if every piece of clothing was irritating his skin.

“Um, Sir…” Oliver cried out awkwardly as the cop untied his belt, discarding even his gun without a care, then unzipped his pants and let them drop to the floor.

In this state, it was clear to see what the cop had had in common with the four of them; young, handsome and highly athletic as he clearly was.

“Oh, no!” the cop mumbled, tensing all the muscles in his strapping body.

“What’s happening?” Oliver whispered to Mike.

“It must be trying to take him,” Mike shot back. “I think he’s actually trying to fight it.”

Both Mike and Oliver climbed two steps further up the stairs, abandoning the cop and knowing that there was nothing they could do to help him now. The gorgeous officer was grunting and bracing himself against the wall. The sounds he was making reminded Mike of the guys he had seen in the gym trying to lift extremely heavy weights.

“I can’t watch!” Mike whispered to Oliver, who had taken a further step up to sit beside him on the stairs and kindly draped his arm over Mike’s shoulders.

“We must,” Oliver whispered back. “We’ve got to see if he can do it. Who knows, right?”

“Maybe he can fight it off,” Mike agreed hopefully.

“Shit,” Oliver replied, quickly shutting Mike down. “Look at his abs. Can you see? The skin around them is starting to bloat up.”

Oliver leaned his head against Mike’s and rubbed his back soothingly. The arousal Mike felt was spiking once again and he found himself momentarily lost, even as the cop battled on only a few feet away.

“It’s a battle that cannot be won. This guy only got married last year,” Oliver continued, as they both looked across at the police officer. “Yet he’s already cheating on his wife with a new recruit at his station. That’s why he ate the doughnut. He thought it was from her.”

Oliver’s voice was so soothing and intense. Mike felt as though he could sit there all day long admiring the perfect man beside him. But, what was he actually saying? Mike had to replay it in his head, before the obvious question dawned in him. “How do you know that?” he asked.

“His secret girlfriend says she can’t resist those tight little buns of his,” Oliver whispered teasingly, as if trying to hold back a laugh. “Not so tight anymore. Wouldn’t you agree, Mike?” he asked; the pair of them watching as the cop growled loudly in desperation to hold back whatever force was taking him. But Oliver was right; slowly, but surely, the guy’s butt had started to develop some extra meat to it, rounding the glutes in a way that only fat ever could.

“What are you saying?” Mike asked, feeling Oliver’s presence becoming more powerful. 

“Shh,” Oliver soothed, rubbing Mike’s back and continuing to lean his head against his, forcing them both to watch the action in front of them. “We can’t have a cop that handsome walking around, can we?”

Mike’s heartbeat rose to new heights. The person who was controlling all of this had been with him the entire time. His body tensed, making Oliver sigh in happiness as he stuck close to him on that step.

“I love this bit!” Oliver continued whispering, as if telling Mike a bedtime story. “Can you see how he’s trying to hold his breath? He thinks he can force it back down, but he can’t. The formula has now spread into every cell in his body.”

Even with the officer trying to hold on tight, a slow, insidious tire of fat was gently forming over his abs and budding softness grew into love handles. The effort of holding his breath was taking it out of him; his eyes were screaming for release and cheeks had filled with air. Now his eyes were shutting tight, as if to concentrate even more, when a tiny burst of air slipped through his lips like a leaking pipe; more and more, until the floodgates had opened and he had to let it all go; sucking up a great big chestful of air and then burping like never before; all control stripped from him.

That brief pause in the guy’s attention was seemingly all this formula had needed to take control. The hips began thrashing about with surprising violence, with his stomach and rear inflating with remarkable speed; as if making up for lost time.

“It’s wonderful, isn’t it?” Oliver asked, kissing Mike sweetly on the side of his head. “So much fat! The thighs, the chest and the arms!” There was such a thrill in his quiet voice, as if he was deliberately controlling his elation to creep Mike out even more.

“Why are you doing this?” Mike asked; eyes still fixed on the ballooning cop as his jawline disappeared under the building flesh in his neck and chin, and blossoming into his cheeks.

“Because I can… And because I want to,” Oliver quietly replied, as he continued to stroke Mike’s back. “Look at him!” he cooed. “Pecs are gone already!”

Mike watched as the officer’s nipples started to bounce and his thick thighs swelled outwards, blowing up his butt to a size that was almost disproportionate to his frame.

“I wonder what his girlfriend will say about him now,” Oliver joked, knowing that Mike would be looking at exactly the same thing. “A disgusting, overfed, fat ass like that!” he whispered gently into Mike’s ear, making every part of the boy tingle with a baffling excitement. “You’re going to be a fat boy, just like him soon…” the devil whispered into his ear.

Mike wanted to get up and run, but being so close to Oliver felt like something he had longed for his entire life. Was this what love felt like? This yearning to be with someone, no matter what?”

Oliver began to caress the tip of Mike’s throbbing hardness under his underwear. “How exciting for you. A whole new life for yourself as one of my fatties,” he teased, turning his head so that he could whisper directly into Mike’s ear as he watched the cop continuing to become even more extremely obese, lose his balance and slide against the wall; landing with a splat on his enormously overgrown backside. Yet, even sitting down, his butt and thighs continued to spread out onto the floor; the rolls and blubber that decorated his torso, softening and spreading; folds deepening every second. 

Then, just like that, the cop had fallen asleep; his revoltingly obese body resting after the dramatic trauma it had just endured. Mike gasped, but not because of the sight in front of him. It was Oliver, continuing to massage his erection. He was brought so close to climaxing, that when Oliver brought his lips towards him, Mike moved swiftly to meet them in a deep, passionate kiss.

As they came out of the kiss, Oliver gently stroked Mike’s hair back from his face. “I’ve so enjoyed our time together,” he smiled with delight. “You’ve been so entertaining, from the very start.”

Mike smiled back, in awe of the amazing man who was giving him all the attention he could ever wish.

Oliver brought his nose close to Mike’s neck and sniffed in deeply all the way up to the top of his head. “I can smell my formula inside of you!” he breathed with genuine eroticism at the thought. “It’s getting ready to take you!”

Oliver took Mike by the hand and stood him up. The pair came down the stairs, stepping over the gigantic cop’s outstretched legs and into the light properly. There was not a single part of Mike that wanted to resist.

“Let’s take these off, shall we?” Oliver asked, pulling the underwear down so that they dropped around Mike’s feet; his hardness springing out with an almost embarrassing enthusiasm “You’ve been such a good boy, this whole time. I picked the cop as the one who would be able to hold out the longest, but I’m so glad that it was you. Such a handsome boy!” he marvelled, stroking Mike’s face. “When I saw you in that magazine, I knew I had to take you.”

“I’m all yours!” Mike spluttered lustfully back; for some reason, only wanting Oliver to touch him again like he had on the stairs.

“Do you really mean that?” Oliver asked, barely concealing a grin behind those innocent looking eyes.

“I do!” Mike nodded. “I would do anything for you!”

“Then prove it,” Oliver snapped. “Don’t make me wait for you. Take another piece from the table and overdose on my formula just like that first idiot did,” he ordered. “Set my beautiful formula into action!”

Inexplicably, Mike’s feet were taking him towards the table. If this was the way to please Oliver, he needed to show him that he could do it. He grabbed at a doughnut and made to push it towards his mouth. However, just as he almost made it, Mike’s hand stopped and tried to push back. There was some invisible, subconscious part of his brain, still active and working, despite the fogginess that was clouding everything else.

Oliver smirked, as if he knew exactly what was going on; why Mike’s hand was not letting him eat. He seized the guy’s wrist and pushed it forwards with remarkable strength as Mike made every effort to keep his mouth wide open and let it fall onto his tongue. He bit down, watched carefully by Oliver, standing in front of him, smiling victoriously,

By the second bite, Mike felt his jaw slacken and stop working. A rumbling burp rolled from his throat, entirely unchallenged. The haze around him seemed to have grown more intense. Oliver was still in front of him, but circling around like a sergeant major conducting an inspection, or a killer whale startling its prey. It was only when he heard the man laughing that Mike knew his hips had begun to rock. He had no idea how the cop had tried to fight it off. The autonomous nature of whatever process this was, seemed entirely beyond his understanding. A warmth was filling his body; building and strengthening. Then that warmth seemed to spread itself across those areas that Mike had seen on the other guys: his stomach felt almost red hot, whilst his butt and legs were tingling and changing rapidly.

Oliver’s hands were seizing upon him, grabbing and pinching parts of his body that Mike didn’t even know existed. Mike tried to speak, to ask Oliver if it was working, but his mouth could not shape the words. Only a groan made it out, shaken and rocked by the vibrations of his instantaneously transforming body. 

Waves of fat began to bounce and crash into each other as Mike felt fresh flesh developing all over his body. A few seconds in, he had thought that Oliver had grabbed at his hardness again. However, he soon realised that it was the tip of his penis slapping against an enormous roll of fat that had invaded his torso. He looked down, seeing the remarkable width of his squishy stomach and the strange pointing of his nipples.

Oliver’s voice was far from soothing now. He was shouting and calling him out on his grotesquely overfed body; telling him how greedy he was, or likening him to a pig. He even oinked triumphantly right down Mike’s ear. 

The body that Mike was in no longer felt like his own anymore. His whole being had been transported into that of something new. The space that he occupied was incredible, surging outwards more and more. He lost his balance, feeling his giant self being collected by Oliver’s unnaturally strong arms as he was gently lowered to the ground.

Mike got a look at his disgusting, blubbery physique, wondering how he would ever use it.  How could he do anything with that enormous belly in the way? How could he get himself up the stairs to his apartment? He’d certainly never squeeze himself into his tiny shower, or find any clothes at regular stores to cover himself up with.

“Goodnight, Fat Boy!” Oiver sang as Mike felt his eyes getting heavy. He knew he'd never see Oliver again. He’d served his purpose. He’d entertained. Now came the sleep that would erase everything from his mind. The factory reset that would prepare him for his life as one of Oliver’s fat boys.

[pomrania]

Fairy vs Walrus: the game

You are a fairy and a walrus, travelling together bound by that most sacred of pacts, "wouldn't it be hilarious to prank some humans". However, you both have different ideas of how to go about your journeys.

(This is a variant on a game I'd partially written up yesterday; this morning I realized that not only could I adjust it to be about this subject matter, but that would solve one of the problems I'd had regarding end conditions.)

Requirements: two players, one to be the fairy and one to be the walrus; two d6s for each player; the encounter table, below, or make up your own

Here's a basic summary of the gameplay loop. Both players roll their dice. They each say a feature of the scene, and then determine which feature the fairy and walrus go to. If that doesn't conclude the game, then it starts again at a new round; there may or may not be a minor time-skip between rounds.

Encounter Table 1. a depiction of your kind 2. a tasty treat 3. an obstacle you'd need the other party to help you get past 4. a street performer singing a song you like 5. the setup for a stupid pun 6. a human's doorstep (All entries on this table are subjective to each party rolling; an obstacle for a fairy looks very different to an obstacle for a walrus.)

At the start of a round, roll both your dice in secret. One result will correspond to an entry on the encounter table; the other result is how much power you have to go there, whether by force of argument or simply going in that direction until the other party decides to follow instead of getting left behind. You can assign the dice as you choose; so, if you rolled a 3 and a 1, that could mean entry 1 on the table and a 3 for power, or it could mean entry 3 on the table and a 1 for power.

Once both of you have assigned your dice, share the feature from your table’s entry. Figure out together what the scene looks like, such that both elements are present; for example, if the fairy had entry 2 and the walrus had entry 1, this would mean a scene that involves both a depiction of a walrus, and something a fairy would consider a tasty treat. Then, reveal your other dice result, the one for power. If your dice value is higher, then the fairy and walrus go to the feature you'd rolled; the other player describes what happens.

In the event of a tie, where both parties had the same result for their power roll, reroll both dice, and use the new results to compare power. The exception is if the tied results were both 6. In that case, both the fairy and the walrus feel so strongly about going in a certain direction that they do it without regard for the other party, get far enough from each other that the bond strains, and the magic fades; the humans realize that there's an actual walrus among them, and the walrus becomes limited to normal walrus movement. Decide whether you want to end the game there, or continue playing; in the latter case, the fairy arrives in time for the magic to come back, and a bunch of humans are left wondering why they all hallucinated a walrus.

Assuming you don't get too far apart, the game concludes when you manage to show up on some human's doorstep. Describe which of you the human is more surprised to see.

[fayesia]

Aemond Targaryen x niece!reader

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

His hands traced the neckline of your almost translucent nightgown, the sheer material doing little to hide what was beneath. But Aemond was no stranger to this. After being betrothed to one another for 2 years, your marriage was put in motion by the Kings wishes, and 6 months later, you were carrying a babe.

Pulling the material down your shoulders, your breasts were revealed, still swollen and heavy from the months of breastfeeding. Your nipples grew hard against cold temperatures of the Red Keeps harsh winter, Aemonds torment on them doing little to help.

"Perfect. So perfect for me my love"

Arching against his ministrations, your mouth falls open, letting out gracious moans as his mouth wraps around your nipple. His teeth nipping against your soft skin, causing a stinging sensation that was quickly soothed by the gentle stroke of his tongue. Aemond revels at the feeling and taste of your sweet milk entering his mouth, greedily drinking what your babe left before you put her to sleep.

"Taste so sweet, just like my wife."

As he speaks his hands pull down your nightgown revealing your bare body to him.

"So beautiful my love, before and after birth, you're the beauty that graces my life everyday."

His words move you, especially after you revealed thoughts you had of yourself after giving birth, you're body was not the same as when you were younger. But Aemond did not care, for he seemed even more desperate after you had given birth, enjoying the effects his actions would have on your sensitive body.

Just like right now as he placed his hand on your thigh in a tight grip, his other one massaging your breast with his mouth wrapped around another.

The mix of touches eliciting the "sweetest of lustrous noises," as Aemond liked to say. Walking over to the small seating area of your shared chambers, you were placed onto the table. His hands roughly pulled you right to the edge as he kneeled in front of you. Your hands grazed through his hair, feeling the soft straight strands in a way you know he grew weak to.

"Treat me well Aemond , please I beg"

"Anthring for you my love"

Spreading you open your cunt was on display to him, a picture he kept on his mind too often than normal. You were a craving he could not subdue, an addictive he couldn't be apart from. Your wetness covered your folds dripping down you. Something Aemond could notice before two of his fingers caressed you, almost feather light touches that moved from your cunt up to your hidden pearl, eliciting louder whines from you.

"No more teasing Aemond please, I've been so patient-"

You were quick to be cut off, for he had wrapped your cunt in the soft confines of his mouth. His lips stayed on your folds as his tongue explored every crevice. Your hands that once stroked softly through his hair was now roughly gripped tightly at his roots. Yet this only seemed to please Aemond more, his muffled growls vibrating against your cunt only spurring you on even more.

His hands had a rough hold on your thighs as your legs were splayed over his shoulders, the soft heels of your feet dug into his back. That along with your hands pushing and rubbing his face deeper into you left the lower half of his face covered in you. Your slick dripping from his lips mixed with his own spit that created a shine on his chin. The liquid evidence of his actions.

"Such a tasty cunny, dear niece. One does not need food if fed this ambrosia every night"

Giggling at his praise you were quick to be silenced by two fingers entering your cunt. Eyes clenched shut at the intrusion that seemed to easy to be swallowed up by you, the slick providing ease to his actions as it dripped down his wrist. As to not let any of it go to waste, his mouth was back on you, messily sucking at your clit as your head was thrown back in ecstacy. His tongue languidly tracing against your clit while his fingers moved rapidly in and out of your tight hole, curling perfectly to rub and prod at that sweet spot in you that Aemond always knew how to find.

"I'm going to come husband, gods, feels so good"

Moaning into you at the praise he was receiving, Aemond, to your surprise, entered a third finger into you. It had been long since the two of you had participated in anything but a few quick meetings in deserted hallways of the castle. So feeling him spend his time with you felt like a gift from the gods that you were more than thankful to reviece, that gift which came in the form of Aemonds mouth.

Near sinful sounds coming from the place where his mouth joined with your cunt. His three fingers did not have to spend long inside you before your back was arched, and your thighs wrapped around your husbands head. A place he would die happily if to be suffocated by your tight holdings.

Pulling your legs open again as you tried to escape his ministrations, your mouth opened to a silent scream that became a release of sinful moans. Wetness poured from your cunt dipping into Aemonds awaiting mouth that made certain none of it would go waste.

Removing his fingers, he shoved the three long thin digits into your mouth, gagging as you tasted yourself around him, only for him to taste you himself. The mix of your juices and spit arousing him even more, displayed to you by the large bulge formed within his dragon riding pants.

As you slowed your breathing, your chest heaved up and down. Your body twitched when Aemonds tongue retraced over you to clean up the mess of mixed fluids he left. Rising from the ground, he towered over you, dipping his head to spit what he had collected into your awaiting mouth. The raw erotic action left you grinding your naked body against his fully clothed one.

Your noises resembled a low born common whore, a stark contrast to the strong, stubborn and poised perception you fronted to those outside of these chambers.

Your hands travelled down to untie the strings holding Aemonds pants up, your knuckles grazed against him as he released a sharp hiss.

"Who's teasing who now?"

You huffed at his words but was interpreted by a knock at the doors before you could respond.

"What is it?", Aemonds question came out as a seething drawl.

"The king request for you in the council room, my prince."

With a low growl, Aemond kissed you on the lips whispering promises of his swift return. While you sat slumped, disappointed, but still understanding of the princes' duties.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

~unedited~