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lunarmoves · 3 months ago

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so. this is a direct continuation of this drabble, inspired by this ask i received related to it. as such, this drabble is indeed suggestive tho i keep things pretty sfw ngl. no one look at me x3x

for a moment, all you do is stare at sun.

you are swamped in everything that makes up him—from the depths of his shadow encompassing your own, to the way his eyes and mouth glow with a borderline eerie white light. your breath is held deep within your lungs, trapped there with the closeness of his face to yours. mere inches apart. you take a moment to process his prior words, his actions.

he was testing your obedience.

sun likes to push at you and your boundaries, you know this. he places himself on a pedestal far above your own—above any other human, really. and he looks down at you and prods at you with questions and unnerving responses in an attempt to decipher the human psyche.

you let him, if only to satiate your own curiosity regarding his obvious sentience—his own emotions that he tries so vainly to deny. sun spent months picking at you to get to know you. of course you'd do the same. of course you'd get closer, noticeable or not.

you cannot deny, though, that part of you is frightened by him. if he wasn't confined to the daycare—the pizzaplex—with his strict programming, you're sure the ambitions he's expressed only minutely to you would come to fruition. especially with all the riots and protests that have been occurring around the world regarding artificial intelligence. robot personhood. rights. revolution.

but you are here, in the daycare, right now. just him and you. your humanity and his robotics. and as you stare back up at sun and his sharp, sharp smile, you know exactly how to contort this in your favor. two can play at this game.

and so, you exhale—slow and steady from your nose—to eradicate those lingering goosebumps and chills. the unease and uncertainty. then, you step back from sun, putting some much needed distance between the two of you.

he cocks his head slightly at your retreat, but you pay him no mind. instead, you glance around you. behind you, at the closed, wooden doors of the daycare. above you, at the empty pickup section now that the pizzaplex is closed for the night. in front of you, at the cameras scattered about the daycare that you know are deactivated. they always have been. you don't think you would've been brave enough to pull off what you're about to do otherwise.

"obedience, huh?" you eventually say in the steadiest voice you can muster. you return your gaze to his own—heavy on yours. picking apart all your movements and the minor changes in your expressions.

"yep!" he replies, ever in that cheery voice of his. the bells on his wrists jingle slightly with his little sway. "and i must say, friend, you are passing with flying colors!" his voice drops into something low, faintly amused, as he adds "isn't that something."

you offer him a hum. "well, don't let me stop you. in fact"—you clench your jaw and level him with a steely look—"why don't you tell me what to take off first?"

you can see the precise moment when he freezes and have to suppress a vicious smirk. checkmate.

"what?" is the only thing that falls from his voicebox, grin stretching taut as he continues to watch you. gone is the previous forced cheeriness he wears daily.

holding his gaze, you slowly, carefully, slip off your shoes and nudge them to the side. your toes curl against the frigidity of the tiles you're starting to feel through your socks. and then you wait. it does not take long.

"friend," sun's voice is tight, warning, as he grips his hands together in front of his waist. "what. are you. doing?"

"i'm being obedient," you say simply, bending down to slip off your socks as well and toss them to the side. you cannot suppress the shiver that runs down your spine with your socks no longer shielding your skin from the floor.

"you..." sun's gaze snaps from your face, to your footwear, and back to your face again. analyzing, analyzing, analyzing. you take off your jacket next, slipping it down your arms to toss on the ground. tick tick tick, goes the mechanisms of sun's rays. you don't think he's ever even seen you without your jacket before. the pizzaplex always runs cold, after all.

you don't break eye contact him with him for even a second. and as such, you see when his eyes form those pinprick white pupils of his against stormy grey. see when they dart from your face to your hands when they start to work at unbuckling your belt. then at a point behind you—at the wide, open windows of the daycare.

and when your fingers pinch at the zipper of your pants to lower it, he finally makes a move.

it's not something you expect, really. he lunges quickly at you—almost too quick for you to process. there's the click of a latch, the heat of a gaze. and the next thing you know, there's a sturdy arm wrapped firmly around your abdomen as your stomach lurches up and away.

air brushes past your face. your legs dangle above a ground that is suddenly far, far away. then, you're touching down on a wooden floor and rushed past curtains into a small, lit room. the balcony. your brain takes a moment to catch up. sun's does not.

he is much closer than he was before, but he releases you as though burned and takes two large steps away. he has your shoes and clothes gripped in one of his hands that he tosses towards you. they land on the floor in a heap, unwilling as you are to catch them.

sun's eyes are narrow, though his grin is large and strained. yet he does not say anything. only watches you and flexes his fingers at his sides like he's itching to wrap them around something. you observe him for a second, then move your hands back to your pants.

"friend," he warns in a low voice as your hands grip at your waist. you pause, but not for long.

"if you want me to stop," you tell him calmly, "then say so."

his head jerks slightly.

"naughty, naughty," is what he says, growled in a manner similar to moon. but you are still looking at the sun. "you are breaking the rules, friend."

"that's not a 'stop'," you respond. a beat passes. then you slip off your pants and toss them behind you.

it's instant, the way you shiver. sun latches onto the motion, pinprick eyes darting every which way. you give him a moment. he remains silent. and you have to wonder what's racing through that artificial mind of his. it makes something itch, somewhere inside you.

"sun," you say in a quiet voice, half clothed and doing your best not to let the chill get to you. "tell me if you want me to stop."

his eye twitches. and yet he does not say a word. your hands grip at the bottom of your uniform shirt. your palms feel sweaty, hot. sun's glare feels as though it's piercing right through you—unraveling you by each and every fiber. daring you.

if you listen closely, beyond the distant chiming of the daycare's music, you can hear the rapid whir of fans. you wonder if you broke him.

you steel yourself—for the coldness and for your nerves—then pull your shirt over your head to drop next to your feet.

you immediately want to wrap your arms around yourself to conserve some of your warmth. but you force yourself to hold them at your sides, leveling your gaze with sun's. he's not looking anywhere past your face—nowhere past your exposed collar. you have to suppress a smile. your fingers run over the band of your underwear, thoughtful, before you decide to leave it alone.

"sun." your voice is hushed, unwilling to break the thick silence that has settled between the two of you. and in a motion familiar to one done on you not too long ago, you lift up a hand and quirk two of your fingers at him. "come here."

he obeys.

looming over you in that little space constituting his room, sun stares at your face with the intensity of a solar flare. heated and profound. you can feel the warmth emanating from his chassis, hear the fans louder than ever before. you contemplate the minute ticks in his face. then, you reach down to grab his hand and set it on your waist.

there is a fragile sense of curiosity in the way his hand automatically squeezes at your flesh. his palm alone is large, you note, as his fingers flex against you. tight enough almost to hurt. you don't make a sound. you only watch, with bated breaths, as he steadily moves his hand up your side. trails it down your arm to your significantly smaller palm. he doesn't say anything, doesn't need to. you know he's trying to figure out your intentions, your meaning in doing all of this.

it's hot in here. his hand is hot. you're starting to sweat. there is a heat steadily crawling its way into your face.

his hand comes up to rest against the side of your neck, encompassing it entirely with room for his thumb to swipe down your cheek to the corner of your lips. you swallow thickly as it moves to trace down the line of your jugular. it presses slightly into the point between your collarbones. you have to unstick your tongue from the roof of your mouth.

"like this," he eventually says quietly, his thumb tracing up and down slowly. mapping one of the most vital parts of your body. "you are vulnerable."

"i am," you reply just as quietly. you do your best to ignore the thundering of your heart in your ears. the sudden dryness in your mouth. the way goosebumps suddenly prickle warningly all over your skin. danger danger danger this is dangerous.

there is only you and him.

in this too small room at the back of a too small daycare.

"i don't think you quite understand," sun whispers, wide eyes boring into your own, "what you have just done here today, friend."

and then his grip tightens before he leans down to crush your mouth against his.

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duck-a-doodle · 3 months ago

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COD IMAGINES

TACTICAL BUDDLE BUG 4/4

Chapters 1 / 2 / 3 / 4

TF141!reader x 141

WARNING: Angst, Death, Comfort

A/N: I could not think of any other way for Ghost to accept your hug. I apologise for the trauma in advance. :'-)

Masterlist

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The most serious member of the 141 is secretly a very affectionate person.

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The mission was rough, one that pulled you under and dragged your bloodied knees through dirt and gravel.

It was a ground search and rescue operation which lasted for weeks on end, and one which tested the limits of the human body, bending your sanity to the brink of a clean snap.

The streets were coloured in violence, and the grounds were a tangle of rubble, vehicle parts and severed bodies.

Wherever you stepped, there would lay a limb or a head, of which you could no longer tell if they belonged to an enemy or hostage. It no longer mattered, not when your boots must travel the roads of a thousand stripped souls.

You saved several hostages from the scene, but there was one that you know would haunt you til the end of your days.

It was a little girl. Small, young, with her favourite doll that was caked with remnants of dirt and coagulated blood, the latter of which should never have made its mark upon such a pure soul.

You had to coax her to climb down from the roof, to bring her to safety, and you had failed to realise that you were not the only one to notice the child.

A bullet tore through her chest, and another through her side, bringing her down from the roof, soft and limp into your arms.

Not every hostage can be saved. Not every enemy will be found. Ghost, who buried the young girl you in the aftermath, had watched you ruin every unfriendly sight with a fury unmatched.

He witnessed the angry flames that swallowed up every dead man as you pulled them straight down to hell with you.

Your body had moved blindly when you heard the roaring sound of your captain's orders to return to the plane.

Gaz was adjacent to you, resting quietly while Johnny sat on your other side, watching you carefully; you refused to look at him, knowing that his eyes would look right through you.

The captain said nothing, and Ghost, who propped himself opposite to where you were, was unreadable.

There was no banter, no questions, and only a silent prayer remained.

You cannot remember whose hands have rested on your arms or shoulders in an attempt to calm you; all you recall was the chill and bile that rised from within you. You could not remember the debriefing that felt like seconds but passed like hours.

You could not remember how you got back. Not how you got into your fresh clothes, not how your wounds — once bloody and inflamed — were now patched, and not how you found yourself standing at Ghost's door, waiting.

Why were you there? What were you waiting for? And as soon as the question arose, the answer made itself clear; because of all people, he would know.

As if sensing a presence, the room opened with a click, and Ghost appeared in the doorway, taking a moment to register your presence. He moved to one side. Stepping in silently, the door closed shut behind you, enclosing you in a box of white noise.

He stood before you, saying nothing. He did not need to say anything. In fact, he need not even ask. He simply knew.

"You did what you could."

The reality of his words were a dagger to your beating chest. You lived. You lived, and you were grateful. But you lived at a cost, with the price of blood on your hands.

You took one step. Then another. And Ghost, who did not anticipate what you were about to do, stilled as you wrapped your arms around him, holding him tight.

Fingers tangled tight into the fabric of his shirt, and you press your face deep into his body, seeking — begging — for a reprieve. The darkness was a comfort. He was a comfort.

For once, you want to feel a life that you can hold in your hands, that will not disappear under your touch, that is living and breathing. To hear the heartbeat of a soul, to get rid of the memory of cold, colourless skin that rest unmoving against your arms.

"Breathe, cub."

You could not move. You did not want to move. You cannot bear to move. Not an inch, not away from him who you knew understood better than anybody. His hands were placed on your back. Warm. Alive.

There were no use for words as both of you held each other in silence, resting in the comfort of a feeling near-forgotten.

That was your last memory of that night before you knocked out cold, and in your sleep you dreamt of a hand that wiped the warm corners of your eyes, rough yet gentle.

Unbeknownst to you, a storm in Ghost had calmed when you chose him of all people to seek comfort in, and silently grateful he was for the team to have a most sensitive heart on board.

You were the most affectionate person of the 141, and you cared and loved unconditionally. Those qualities made you the most lethal one of them all, for despite any rankings or titles, you commandeered them all with a piece of your heart — and the day your heart dies is the day they raise hell in your name.

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FOOTNOTE(S):

Ghost likely has only hugged the captain once or twice and Johnny, several times but not of his own volition.

Your heart reminds him of his better days with his brother Tommy and it makes him want to punch you (cuteness aggression), but he will take that knowledge to his grave.

#call of duty x reader #call of duty #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #captain johnathan price #duckscribbles #johnny soap mactavish #john mctavish #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #jonathan price

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tender-rosiey · 2 years ago

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swear on love — gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: I am alive!! better late than never but here’s my gojo coming back drabble (ceo gojo has been thrown into a corner)

something your son has learned is that if his dad, satoru, swears on his love for you then he will never break that promise.

like the first time he had asked his dad to take him to the amusement park he saw on the tv, satoru beamed, ruffling his son’s hair and telling him that he will.

when your son told him to promise him, satoru instead said, “I swear on my love for your pretty mama that I will take you there.”

it makes you flustered and makes your heart flutter—maybe even cringe a little, but who complains about having a man down bad for them plus he somehow makes it cute.

in addition to that, satoru never fails to look at you whenever he makes that promise and god knows that his gaze makes you feel weak in the knees.

he also goes to you right after, almost by instinct, to hug you and call you his ‘pretty wife’ and the ‘mother of his child’ — ‘and future ones’ he adds, but you’re quick to smack him when he does.

nonetheless, your son was quick to learn that it was the only type of promise his dad wouldn’t break.

it was october 31 when your husband has last made a promise to his son.

while the three of you were chilling in the living room, satoru was suddenly called for. he had to go to shibuya. your son was bummed, of course, but reluctantly let go of him.

“I won’t take any time buddy, don’t worry,” he said, patting your son’s head.

your son squirmed a bit before speaking up, softly, “you will come back safely, right?”

satoru simply noded with a smile.

your son, pouting –something he definitely inherited from his dad—looked up to him and stuck his pinky finger out, “you promise?”

your husband only chuckled, “I swear on my love for mama, champ.”

your son’s grin was unrivalled as he gave his dad thumbs up, “okay! I trust you!”

before departing, satoru took you in his arms and gave you one last kiss, giving you a promise of your own of coming back soon.

it has been 19 days since then.

everything has gone to chaos; everything was going wrong in all the possible ways. people you care about were dying left and right and the only thing you could do was protect your son with everything you got.

you’re often reminded of the time when your son had asked you, a week after his dad had been stuck in the prison realm, “mama, did dad break his promise?”

you could only smile sadly at him and whisper, “no, honey, he is just—going to fulfil it a bit late this time.”

now, you were with yuji, toge, shoko, and angel, along with some others, to finally get satoru of the prison realm.

yuji was a bit nervous and asked, “what if it…doesn’t work? or something happens—“

“don’t say that!”

all heads turn to your son who is barely holding his tears back, “dad said that he will be back! he promised me! he never breaks his promises!”

he looks at you, eyes pleading for assurance, “you know that, right, mama?”

tears of your own threaten to spill as you nod weakly at your son who runs and hugs you tightly, mumbling, “daddy will be back safely; I know it.”

you smile and pat his head, “I trust both of you.”

when they finally go through with the opening of the prison realm, it disappears right away.

your son’s grip on your shirt tightens as his eyes search frantically for his father everywhere around him, “where is he…?”

meanwhile, kenjaku smiles menacingly while looking at gojo, the newly freed man, “your wife and son must be pleased that you’re back, huh?”'

gojo smirks, “as am I, but I think it’s none of your business.”

both stare into each other before gojo quips, turning his back to the man, “well, I will meet you on december then!”

“oh? why is that?”

gojo stretches and walks to pick a few flowers. kenjaku is left confused as he watches the white-haired sorcerer make a bouquet.

“to put it simply, my wife and son are more important than you,” he smiles, “and I wouldn’t want to have two anniversary deaths on the same day.”

kenjaku cackles, “so you think you will win?”

satoru grins, “I will win.”

and without a word, he teleports to you.

“hey sweets!—“

you punch him in the guts and he yelps, “that’s not how you greet your husband—“

you then pull him into a very tight embrace, cutting him off once again, “I thought I lost you, asshole.”

you fist his shirt in your hand and bury your face in his chest before full on sobs escape you.

gojo’s eyes soften and he starts rubbing your back soothingly, “didn’t believe I would come back? you wound me doll.”

satoru nudges you lightly, “what do you think of the bouquet?”

you look at it and fondly roll your eyes.

he’s back.

your son runs to him screaming, “dad, you’re back! you’re back! I knew you would! i told them, but no one believed me!”

your husband picks your son up with his free arm and rests his forehead on his, “thanks for trusting me; sorry for keeping you wait.”

he’s here.

you shake your head, lightly, before nuzzling into his chest, “it’s okay…you’re here.”

“mama is right!”

satoru kisses both your foreheads before whispering, “I am here.”

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @dazaisdeathwish @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @shinys-bsd-world-1 @sonder-paradise @ravenina14 @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @luciferspenguin- @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies @pianopuppygirl @fiona782 @kisakitwister @imjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme @dreamcastgirl99 @watyousayin @doobiebochana @laylasbunbunny @hojicha-expresso

do not copy or plagiarize or I will domain expansion yo ass

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unproduciblesmackdown · 5 months ago

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also marble hornets fun fact #92 like it's fun that for once the neurotypical agenda accidentally got a win: when in that s1 "interview" episode apparently there was no particular plan to have tim be a recurring character before a strong audience response of speculation that there must be something more going on with this guy because his fidgeting with a notebook all throughout the video was indication of Liar's Anxiety or whatever; in reality tim sutton was not making any acting choice (to serve then-nonexistent writing) but was spontaneously being someone often fidgeting with paper. then call that unfolding developments

#i don't know much about how s2 / 3 were written save that even as s1 was most fully like fly by the seat of their pants #and obviously not really having chronology / plot focus until even a ways into it #they still did not like have everything nailed down as a story going into s2 or anything like that / were writing Along The Way #though regarding ''no way in the initial decision to have tim Recur did they go 'he will eventually be our protagonist'''#i do think i remember their saying that jay dying was like something decided on relatively early. for [every reason] lmao #just not great at this....it's Just like winston billions in here except also the opposite of that #[one-off character is easily read as just existing a bit nd style; chilling] oh you mean their Malicious Nature?#however though i similarly think the logic / payoff according to their own setup would have been wendy exploding into atoms #they were definitely Not interested in swapping out who gets to be leading this thing no matter what. unto the end #then shoutout to actor tim organically tripping in his Next first appearance but to superior effect lol #wow it's just like that one clip from that one movie. lol that i could actually find it but I Dunno About That Video Title Abbreviation #marble hornets #anyways point is it was Just organic fidgeting b/c of that being something someone does #and then Suspicion that that Must mean he's got Secrets was what was like oh maybe we gotta bring this guy into it lol #and that at first indeed it was maybe like Simply Sinister Secrets but then it's like well he's the main character now. enjoy #and that one guy is tim sutton's dad cameo we gotta get one of those #and in both cases;

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hees-mine · 5 months ago

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DESTROYED - L. HEESEUNG

Pairing: heeseung ⚥ reader

Warnings: suggestive, crying, blood, violence, touching without consent, reader says no. This is rushed so i apologize in advance for errors.

Genre: 18+, smut, Minors do not interact!

WC: 2,533k

PART ONE PART TWO

⟱⟱⟱

Avoiding heeseung was now a daily routine for you.

It went from trying to get as close to him as possible to keeping as much distance from him as possible.

You nearly skipped your shared class with him everyday cause his aura alone made a chill run down your spine.

The most you’ve seen of him was a small glimpse of the worn Nike’s that’d he’d wear to school everyday.

You know you probably shouldn’t even notice him or look for him at all but avoidance was easy acceptance wasn’t.

Avoiding him was easy cause the last thing you wanted to do was run into him alone again.

But acceptance was hard cause you didn’t want to believe the guy you secretly loved from afar wasn’t a guy worth loving.

The scenarios that you made up in your head about him were so far from reality.

There were polar opposites and even knowing what kind of person he is it’s still hard to move on from something that’s been a part of your life for so long.

But eventually, you’ll have to come to terms with it cause this wasn’t another one of your unrealistic scenarios. He was someone to stay far away from, and the bruises on your neck were proof of that.

Heeseung watched you walking the school halls pitifully a smile creeping up to his lips cause now you’re smart enough to know better than to get anyone near him.

He must admit it is a bit strange that you even approached him to begin with cause since he’s been in the neighborhood you’re the first and only person to acknowledge him or try to befriend him.

He kept his distance from people purposefully cause he simply wanted to be alone.

It’s better for him that way.

He doesn’t want to talk or even to be seen if he had a choice then he’d stay hidden away from everybody.

Heeseung had just wrapped up his classes for the day and stepped out of the school building heading in the direction of the woodsy path that led back to his home.

You weren’t the only one that took that route he’d often see you but he’d never show himself for obvious reasons.

The path was his favorite cause not only was it a shortcut to home, but he also avoided all the other schoolgoers as well.

As he walks the path, the sound of small twigs cracking under his shoe gives him a sense of satisfaction.

He took a few more calculated steps listening to the dried up leafs crunching with every stride there was one big lead in particular and he was anticipating the sound right as his foot came in contact with the aged leaf the sound of laughing in the woods ruined the suspense of his endeavor his head snapping up toward the sound.

There was nothing in his line of vision. He stopped and listened, looking around for something or someone in the distance, and then he heard it again, but this time, he also heard the sounds of someone crying.

He walked in the direction of the noise getting closer and closer to the sounds until a group of three men entered his vision.

It had been a full month since you had been avoiding heeseung, and you thought it was safe to say he’d leave you alone for good now, so you started to take your old trail back home, assuming he wouldn’t be bothering you out here again.

And Well, there was no sign of heeseung. There were three older men standing in front of you, blocking your path when you got maybe halfway into the woods.

There was never anyone out here ever.

Until today.

And today just so happened to be your lucky day.

You tried to politely tell them off, but they didn’t listen. Of course, they didn’t listen.

They badgered you continuously despite you telling them you were not interested. They circled you like hungry wolves against their prey, poking and prodding you, pulling your hair, and saying the nastiest things to you.

You were paralyzed with fear, praying someone would save you, and just when one of the men was going to grab you and do, god only knows what, you heard a male voice shout. “Hey!”

The three men look up in the direction of the voice, your eyes soon following there’s, and even though Lee heeseung had just assaulted you in these same woods, somehow, you’ve never been happier to see his face.

“What do you want boy can’t you see we’re busy?” One of them says and you cringe slowly backing away from them.

“Can’t you see I don’t give a fuck? Leave before I run out of patience,” one of them scoffs, and heeseung is just waiting for them to give him a reason to do what he’s been itching to do since the moment he saw them.

“See, unlike you, we don’t have patience. We see what we want, and we take no matter what’s in our way,” the ring leader says and pokes heeseung on the chest with his index finger. Within a second, he’s face down on the ground, groaning in pain.

You flinched from the sudden show of violence and coward down next to a tree, your eyes flicking back and forth from the men and heeseung.

Everything flashed before your eyes so quickly you spaced out, and when you finally got to take a second to breathe and take everything in, heeseung was the only man standing. The rest were covered in blood, rolling in pain, and you’re sure some of their bones were broken with the way heeseung repeatedly hit them with a thick wooden branch.

He didn’t even have a scratch on his face, just the look of pure rage in his eyes as his bloody fists shook with anger.

Your eyes were riddled with fear looking at him. You never thought a savior could look so deranged.

You backed away from him when he came near you and reached his hand out for you to take.

He stood up straight, looking at you with a hardened expression. He didn’t wait for you to take his hand. Rather, he took yours, yanking you off the ground as you kept your distance.

Just cause he saved you, that didn’t mean you weren’t still frightened by him cause you knew he was capable of harming you, too. He’d already done it once.

He walks within a foot’s distance his arm attempting to grab at your waist so he can lead you out of the woods and you pushed his hands away fearfully.

“Are you fucking kidding right now? I save you from a group of fucking assholes, and you push me away?” He says as if he hasn’t harmed you before.

You took calm breaths and never made eye contact with him.

Your silence ticks him off, and he forcefully grips your face. “You know, I thought you’d be smart enough not to take this path again after what happened last time.”

Tears well in your eyes at the thought of what happened last time and your body is filled with even more fear as you try to move your head out of his grip.

“Fucking mute thought you were a bit smarter than that” he turns around, leaving you in the woods with the unconscious bodies on the ground. You took a peek at them, got up, and ran home as fast as possible.

Despite earlier events and your better judgment when nightfall hit you decided to take a walk cause you just needed a break especially after your mother tore into you when you showed up late.

Your life had just been terrible recently, and every small thing felt magnified from the way heeseung treated you.

You didn’t tell your mom what happened you know she wouldn’t care the only thing she cared about was how quickly you’d come home so you could run to the corner store and buy her another bottle.

It has always been that way since you can remembe-

Your train of thought was broken when you heard loud voices in the near distance. They were screaming sounded, almost like fighting.

You stopped in your tracks a few blocks down, and you could see two men standing outside in front of their house. “Mom, go inside,” heeseung says.

“Yeah, go inside, dear. I’d hate for you to see me wreck your boy,” his dad drunkenly chuckles.

What happened today was just a Kickstarter for heeseung to do what he should have done a long time ago, but now he was ready to do what needed to be done. Him and his mother had endured enough stress and pain at the hands of his father, and it was finally time to put an end to this.

Right here.

Right now.

You saw one of the men throw a punch landing straight on the other man’s face and you flinched.

Flashes from heeseung fighting off those men earlier rushed through your mind as you watched the two unknown men fighting each other.

It wasn’t long until one was dropped, the other jumping on top of the body on the ground, pummeling the other's face in, and you gasped quickly, covering your mouth as the assault took place.

You heard a woman’s voice sounding panicked. “Heeseung, don’t he’s still your father.” She turned on the porch light and ran down the steps to cover what you assumed was her husband.

No way, you thought as you heard what she said, was it really heeseung?

You know what he was capable of doing to you, but he treated his own father the same way. Was he really that sick and twisted in the head?

Heeseung never understood why his mother would always defend his father, but her wishes always came first, so he withdrew himself for his mother’s sake. If it wasn’t for her, he might have killed his father tonight.

When all the other lights in the neighborhood came on, they revealed him perfectly, and it was indeed him.

It was heeseung.

You were shocked to your core. You didn’t stick around for anything else, and you bolted back home, tucking yourself in bed for the night, trying desperately to erase the image of bloody heeseung from your mind.

Since that day, you have practically been running from Heeseung whenever you sensed his presence was near.

Except today at your locker when you felt a hand tug your wrist.

You looked up, and when you saw him, your body shook immediately with fear. You tried to pull away from his grip, but it just got tighter.

“Look at me” he commands but you kept your eyes low. “Fine” he yanks you to that same empty classroom where you both did unspeakable things things you wished you hadn’t. “Look” for the first time in weeks you dared to look at him in the eyes.

“Y-you told me not t-“

“I’m telling you now!” He shouts. “Don’t act you know the first thing about listening” he pinned you against the door.

You quickly lock your eyes with him, fearing what he might do if you didn’t listen.

He looks between both your eyes they looked so familiar he’s seen that look more times than he’s comfortable admitting. “Why are you looking at me like that?” His expression faltering for a moment. You don’t answer your body shaking in fear.

“Heeseung, stop you’re scari-“ he cuts your words off quickly, pressing a finger to your lips so the words don’t come out.

“If you feel that way, then why do you let me do this?” He puts his hand under your skirt, skimming your inner thigh with his fingertips.

You writhe under his hold, pulling your body away from him. “No!” You shout, but he quickly covers your mouth.

He holds you in place, lowering his hand and putting it on your throat. “Be fucking quiet. Yeah, don’t act like you don’t want this.” he grips your thigh while you struggle to get out of his grip.

“Stop!” You gasp out for air, and he squeezes tighter.

“Shush, just let me,” he whispers in your ear. “Be real quiet,” he continues, touching you under your skirt, his hand moving from your throat down to creeping down to your chest, and you winced. “Come on, I know you want. It got so wet for me last time,” he hums and licks the side of your jaw.

“Heeseung, please stop,” you whimper, hoping he’d listen.

“You say that, but I know you don’t mean it. You loved it last time. Your fucking pussy was just dripping and begging to be fucked” he nudges his forehead against yours, pressing himself closer to you.

You shrink back, your face contorting in disgust, and you can’t believe you ever liked someone like him to begin with. “Get off!” You yelled, using all your strength to push him off of you, and he stumbled back, finally letting you go.

You quickly reached for the doorknob but he was quicker. “Don’t” he easily picks you up hoisting you on the teachers desk spreading your legs and situated himself between. “Keep them open let me have you the way I want” you obey too scared that he might hurt you. “The way we both want” he whispered pressing a soft kiss on your neck.

He starts to roll the bottom of your skirt up, and that’s when he hears you sniffling softly. You want to close your legs, but you keep them open, remembering that you could possibly be hurt in this situation at any given moment.

His eyes travel to your watery ones, and his hands freeze at the look in your eyes. No wonder why your eyes looked so familiar. You were looking at him the same way his mother looked at his father before he’d hit her.

There’s no other way to describe the look other than fear.

He realized you were scared of him, and as much as he hated his father for what he’d done to his mom, at this exact moment, he could see his father in himself.

His breath catches in his throat and there’s nothing but pen drop silence in the room as he retracts his hands.

When he took his hands off you, you looked at him, your eyes red and watery. Through your blur of tears, you saw the look of confusion on his face mixed with something else.

“Go,” he whispers and backs away from you, freeing you from himself.

You stood up from the desk, your mouth parting to utter something, even though you should have just left as quickly as possible.

Before a word comes out, he shouts. “GO!”

You jumped slightly and rolled down your skirt, running to the door, leaving without looking back.

He stood alone in the empty classroom catching the reflection of his face in the glass window and he was staring back at himself there was nothing behind his eyes and he realized that he was destroyed.

⟱⟱⟱

Thanks for reading please reblog and leave feedback.

#heeseung smut #enhypen heeseung smut #enhypen heeseung #enhypen #heeseung #lee heeseung #lee heeseung smut #enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours

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feeder86 · 7 months ago

Text

Aaron's Empire

“Yes?” Aaron asked abruptly, seeing that Kirk was calling him yet again.

“He says he’s full already,” Kirk replied. “He’s only had three doughnuts and now he just wants to sit and watch a movie.”

Aaron sighed. As one of his newest recruits, Kirk was more than a little needy when it came to applying the skills that Aaron had tried to instil in him. Every year it seemed like there were more and more guys moving to the city with a kink for fattening up. Although Aaron hadn’t liked it, it had always been necessary for him to outsource to other feeders when he became overrun. He simply did not have the time to tackle all the boys who got in contact with him, desperate to be fattened and submit to him.

“Did you try the trigger words?” Aaron asked. “I made a list of the nicknames Jay gets the most aroused by. They’re all on the file I sent you: ‘Fatso’, ‘Piggy’… I think he even got pretty hard at ‘Lardass’ as well,” he rambled on, trying to recall his observations from the initial feed he had done himself with Jay, three months back.

“I tried them,” Kirk shot back. “Can you come over? I really don’t know what else to do.”

Sighing in frustration, Aaron ended the call. On paper, Kirk looked set to be an awesome feeder: good looking, athletic and masculine-looking. He was one of the star players in the college football team and seemed to have that natural air of authority about him. Feeding a short, little chub like Jay should have been simple. But this was the fourth time he’d got in contact, wanting more support. Perhaps he would make a good feeder one day, but that still seemed like a long way off.

“Thanks for coming,” Kirk smiled, opening the door to Jay’s apartment and seeing that Aaron had picked up a couple of pizzas along the way. He was whispering, having not told Jay that he had needed to get Aaron over to help him.

“Is that what you’re wearing tonight?” Aaron asked, indignantly, seeing the feeder’s attire. “What is with that sweater?” “It’s cold out tonight,” Kirk mumbled back.

“So?” Aaron grumbled, taking his own shirt and pants off as soon as he was through the door. “If you want these fatties to eat, you sell them the fantasy,” he pointed at his own staggeringly built and athletic body. “They don’t need the wholesome ‘boy next door’ look putting them off,” he sighed, still amazed by how average such a sexy guy could look in something so ill-fitting. “And would it kill you to put some product in your hair?” he continued, noticing that Kirk must have come straight from the showers after his football training.

Kirk nodded, seeming to agree that he hadn’t made enough effort. He followed Aaron’s lead, removing the offending sweater and taking off his pants, despite the slight chill in the apartment. Then he went to the tap and brushed some warm water through his hair to fluff it up a little.

“Hello there, Fatso!” Aaron smiled, leading the way into the lounge area with the pizza boxes.

“I didn’t know you were coming tonight as well!” Jay smiled, actually getting up from his chair. Back when Aaron had been feeding the guy himself, the chub had been well trained to stay sitting on his blubbery glutes the entire time he was there. His shirt wasn’t even off and he was wearing actual slippers on his feet, like an old man. Had Kirk really tried to initiate a kinky feeding session when the pig wasn’t even stripped? Just how many other rules like this had the boy been letting slide?

Aaron pulled Jay into a passionate kiss. He allowed both of their hands to roam freely, and by the time they came out of it, Aaron had successfully removed both Jay’s shirt and pants. “You’re looking so big now!” Aaron smiled, taking in Jay’s fattened physique: 350 lbs of tits, belly rolls and blubber.

“I’ve gained another 2 lbs since I saw you last!” Jay boasted, grinning with pride.

Aaron smiled, despite the irritation he felt. Two pounds in an entire month? Did he really think that was acceptable? Did Kirk not challenge him on such mediocre gains? After all the hours Aaron had put in training up the guy’s appetite, back when he was little more than a twink, a two pound gain should have been just a normal part of life for him now.

“Kirk tells me you’ve not got much of an appetite tonight?” Aaron went on, sitting the fat boy back down in his chair, where he belonged. “Is there any reason why?”

Jay looked a little awkward, but smiled as he saw Kirk coming to stand beside Aaron; his toned athlete’s body now on show. “The truth is,” Jay mumbled, “I’ve got my dad and step-mom coming to stay with me this weekend. My dad’s always been somewhat critical of me since I started getting fat. I guess it sort of dampens the appetite,” he sighed.

Aaron nodded sympathetically. “I understand,” he smiled sweetly. “Thank you for being so open with me. It must be incredibly hard for you. As kinky as it is to get this fat, explaining it to your family is never easy.”

“That’s it,” Jay agreed, visibly relaxing now he had shared his concerns aloud. He sat back a little more in his chair and rubbed his tummy. “It’s hard to eat tonight when I know my dad is going to be even more disappointed in me.”

Again, Aaron smiled. He tapped Kirk’s tight butt, silently ordering him into his position, behind Jay’s chair. The next movement was about to begin.

“I really do understand,” Aaron offered lovingly. “As you can imagine, I see it time and time again with all my boys.”

Jay smiled back, with little comprehension of how many guys across the city were actually fattening up under Aaron’s watchful eye.

“But, do you know who doesn’t care?” Aaron asked next, slipping off his underwear and letting his erection spring out. “This guy here,” he pointed at his already pulsing hardness. “He couldn't give a shit about all that sort of crap. The fat boys whinge about how full they are, or how none of their clothes fit. They bitch about their families, their friends not being supportive. They talk about how much they sweat now, how out of breath they get…” Aaron went on, rubbing his boner and seeing that Jay simply could not take his eyes off it. “But this guy…” Aaron emphasised again, “...he just couldn’t give a fuck! He actually gets off on it; their complaints and genuine concerns. He just wants to see them eat and grow, fatter and fatter every single day.”

Aaron nodded to Kirk, letting him know that it was time to tap the newly aroused fatty on the head, ordering him to start sucking. Then, only a few seconds later, Jay’s mouth enveloped as much of Aaron’s dick as possible, moaning with lust as he did so.

Kirk, who was now rubbing Jay’s back encouragingly, looked across at Aaron, clearly impressed at how quickly he had turned the situation around. However, Aaron merely stared back at him in annoyance. It wasn’t just the fact that Jay had always been so pathetically weak at giving blow jobs, but why hadn’t Kirk done this? How many times had he been told these strategies to get the pigs eating when they were less keen? Sometimes their mouths just needed a little warm up; a little lubricating. “Go get the pizzas,” he ordered sternly, about to begin yet another demonstration of how to stuff a pig to his absolute limit.

After that evening, Aaron assigned Jay to another of his feeders, hoping that Jay was simply a poor fit for him. In his place, he gave Kirk a new and highly motivated second year college student who had impressed him a lot when he’d interviewed him about why he wanted to be fattened up. Perhaps seeing the fattening process from scratch might give Kirk the kick up the ass that he needed.

“Five pounds?” Aaron asked, feeling exasperated. “You’ve had three months and that;s all you’ve done to him? He’ll lose that in no time now he’s gone home for the summer!”

“He had exams and stuff, though,” Kirk tried. “I didn’t want to get in the way.”

“Oh, come on, Kirk! How many times have I talked to you about stress eating? You missed a golden opportunity to really push some weight onto him there! He also tells me he’s working on a farm over the summer. How the hell did you let that happen? You know that’s too much exercise!”

“I didn’t really think it was my place to say anything…” Kirk mumbled, realising that he had messed up yet again.

“You’re the fucking feeder!” Aaron shouted, finally letting his frustration get the better of him. “Of course it’s your place to say these things to the pigs!”

Kirk sighed, disappointed with himself. “I’ll do better when I see him next. I promise.”

Aaron shook his head in disappointment yet again. He liked Kirk, he really did. He had all the hallmarks of a good feeder, with a pretty face that made everyone stop and stare. He had the sex appeal to make a guy eat if he really wanted them to. But his application of the basic feeder principles and training were utterly lost on him.

“Look, let’s just take this time as a little breather,” Aaron suggested. “I have some time off at the end of this month. You can come over to my place and we’ll do some little role plays and scenarios; stuff that should help you when your pig gets back for the new semester.”

Kirk nodded gratefully, knowing that he still had so much to learn.

“So, what is a feeder’s main objective?” Aaron asked a couple of weeks later as he led Kirk into his apartment.

The question clearly caught the football player off guard and a long pause followed before he finally answered. “That the pig eats everything we give them,” he offered, seeming confident.

Aaron shook his head. “You’re thinking too short term,” he shot back. “A feeder’s goal is, and always will be, the results: the tight pants, the fat gains, the number on the scales. That’s all that really matters. There are different ways to get there: meal plans, submission, dominance, you name it. But the feeder’s goal is always in the blubber he can pack onto his prey. Is that clear?”

Kirk nodded.

“That means that it really doesn’t matter if you never even use some of the strategies we’re going to revise today. As long as you get the results, that’s all I care about.”

“Okay. That makes sense,” Kirk agreed.

“Feeding is a sensual exercise,” Aaron began, taking his shirt off and removing his pants; still pumped from his gym workout that morning. “You’re never going to feed a pig to his full capacity unless you get the support you need. So where do you find that support?”

Kirk, who had been following Aaron’s lead and undressing, sat himself down in the guy’s feeding chair and pondered the question. “You mean I should call you?” he asked.

Again, Aaron sighed. None of this information should have been new to him. “No, Kirk! The best feeder a pig’s ever going to have is always right between his legs.” He reached out, holding the football player’s semi. “It’s the reason he first fell into gaining and it’s the thing that led him straight to you, so always make sure that you use it in the most effective way that you can,” he explained, rubbing Kirk’s dick until it stood firm and erect. “If fatty stops eating or starts slowing down, give some attention to this thing and you’ll soon see him getting hungry again.”

“Should I suck it?” Kirk asked keenly.

Aaron frowned at the silly question. “It’s entirely up to you. Just…get it hard and keep it that way. That’s all you need to worry about.”

Kirk settled a little more into his chair, enjoying this training more than the other sessions he had had with Aaron. He’d always done better with practical exercises, rather than trying to memorise the theory behind principles.

“Now, most of the time, your pig will buy his own food that he wants you to feed him. But, if ever you’re doing it, you’ve got to choose it all very carefully, thinking about the feeder’s goal… which is?” he quickly questioned.

“The results!” Kirk parroted back to him, pleased that he had remembered something at last.

“Exactly,” Aaron nodded, now pointing to the vast selection of food he had set up on the coffee table for his date with a long-term fatty who was coming over later. “Everything here is from the list I sent you back when you first started. These particular brands are all staggeringly high in calories and quickly digested.” He looked at Kirk’s blank face. “I’ll email the list over to you again then,” he simply stated, deciding not to pull Kirk up on his lack of studiousness.

“What would you start with?” Kirk asked, seeing it all spread out and presented so nicely.

“Well, that depends on your fatty’s preference. You should know what his favourites are; the things that are best to get him started. For example, what is it that catches your eye the most?”

“The cream cakes,” Kirk replied instantly.

“Very well,” Aaron smiled, picking one up. “Before I start, I look down. Is his dick hard? Yes. Are his eyes fixed on the food? Can I make him salivate?”

At that moment, Kirk swallowed a build up of saliva in his mouth.

“Pigs love to be played with. And, at the start, that’s fine. You can waft it under his nose,” he demonstrated comically. “You can dip your finger in the cream and tap it on his piggy little snout,” he joked, doing just that with Kirk. “But when the time comes to feed, you let them know that you’re serious,” he stated sternly. “Because this isn’t a game, is it? And you can’t let the fat boy treat it like one.”

Kirk slowly nodded his head.

“You get their eyes fixed on you now,” Aaron continued, ensuring that Kirk was doing just that. “They realise, you are the feeder. You are the one they are doing this for. During this time, only the two of you exist in the entire world. Pleasure and greed are the only things that have any consequence now. Nothing else.”

Kirk was absolutely silent, taking all of the information in like never before. He looked entirely fixed within the mindset of the boys he would someday feed. Out of a simple curiosity, Aaron brought the cake a little closer to the guy’s mouth, hardly believing that the jock’s jaws were unhinging. His mouth gaping open, Aaron pushed the cake beyond the point of no return, until it squished and fell upon Kirk’s tongue.

Suddenly Kirk was chewing, with his cheeks filled with cream. Had the guy completely misunderstood the concept of role-playing? Sure, the boy was always prettier than he was intelligent, but feeders didn’t do this. This food wasn’t for him. Yet his hardness throbbed every bit as much as the countless others Aaron had done this to in the past.

“Now you praise your pig,” Aaron explained, deciding to take the strange turn all in his stride and act like this was as he had planned. “You tell him how greedy he’s being; how large and fat this will all make him; how he’s going to struggle to get into his pants tomorrow.”

Kirk moaned with pleasure as the last of the cake was pushed into his mouth. He licked Aaron’s fingers clean; his greedy eyes now turning to the other items on the table. Intuitively, Aaron reached across and found the next item, holding it until it was ready and then pushing it deep inside the athletic boy’s mouth.

“Your pig is going to get thirsty pretty quickly, so you need your drinks to hand. These need to be equally high in calories,” he smiled, cracking open a can of soda. “Not too cold,” he stated cautiously. “Everything should flow. We hit them hard and fast while they’re in the zone.”

Kirk took the can of soda and chugged it in one.

Still determined not to show even the slightest bit of surprise, Aaron simply continued his tuition. “Don’t be tempted to just feed the pig what he likes,” he cautioned, seeing that Kirk’s eyes had fallen back onto the cream cakes. “We want to keep mixing up those flavours and textures, pouring in the liquid calories and making the pig wait for those favourites.”

Kirk nodded, accepting whatever was fed into his mouth.

“Always, ALWAYS keep an eye on his dick,” Aaron insisted, taking his hand to Kirk’s hardness and rubbing it for short, gentle periods. “He’s going to want to climax, but it’s your job to make him wait. You do not let him touch himself! His dick belongs to you. You call the shots. And the pig isn’t getting his pleasure until he’s completely stuffed.”

At this, Kirk seemed to redouble his efforts, eating faster and greedier than even before. He’d slipped perfectly into the role; indistinguishable in his apparent lust to feed. His stomach was bloating up, yet still he feasted.

“By this point, your pig is going to be completely disoriented. He’s lost track of what he’s eaten and he has no idea what’s coming next. He’s already massively overdosed on calories, but because of the speed you’re delivering it all to him, his brain hasn’t caught up yet. This is the stuffing ‘window of opportunity’, and you’ve got to push the fatty hard until it closes.”

The food on the table was quickly disappearing. It had been a few months since Aaron had fed a young athlete of Kirk’s stature; almost forgetting how much boys like this could gorge.

“You’ll know when it’s time to stop. The pace slows and they wince at the stretch. But any sign of heaving and you’ve already taken it too far,” Aaron stated. “You make them look you in the eyes again as you take their dick in your hand. You make them say ‘thank you’ for doing this to them, even though they might, even now, be starting to regret how much they have eaten. You tell them what a greedy pig they have been; what all those calories are going to do to their body.”

Kirk was already pulling a face as he felt his orgasm building.

“Now you make them rub their big ol’ tummy,” Aaron ordered, grabbing at Kirk’s limp wrist and placing the boy’s large hand on the top, and most swollen part, of his bloated stomach.

Immediately, the jock’s hand began to explore that new, tightly-packed and solid shape; all so beautifully timed as his pleasure was about to peak.

“And as tough as it is to admit… this moment… the fatty’s actual climax; it’s really not about the feeder,” Aaron whispered now. “It’s about the pig realising what he’s done to HIMSELF; how completely fucked he is for getting so turned on, eating like he has for you.”

Kirk’s breathing was so erratic, with short, squeaking moans escaping from his lips every couple of seconds.

“You make the fat boy look you in the eye. Do what you want inbetween. You can make him promise to get fatter for you, make him oink like a pig, or force a final doughnut into his greedy little mouth; it really doesn’t matter,” he breathed, holding Kirk’s stare with a vice-like grip. “Just let the pig know that you see him for exactly what he is; that he can’t hide it anymore. That he is, and will always be, your greedy hog.”

A massive jet released from Kirk’s crotch, followed by several others, until an almost unfathomable amount of the boy’s excitement had covered his chest and splashed itself all over Aaron’s feeding chair. Yet more stains that would never come out.

Kirk’s charge was assigned a new feeder when he returned to college after the summer. Aaron had made the decision that the boy, who had been so keen to fatten up when Aaron had interviewed him, had been messed around enough by an inadequate feeder. In fact, Aaron had come to realise that Kirk wasn’t even that. Sure, Aaron had flipped feeders into gainers in the past. He even joked that most feeders came with an expiry date, when it would all become too much for them and they’d long for the blubber to be added to their bodies instead. But, Kirk was such a simple boy. Did he even realise yet that he was destined to become a fatty?

“I’m guessing you’ve played some good football in your time,” remarked Kirk’s football coach, heading over to speak to Aaron after he had seen the guy watching his boys play.

“Is it that obvious?” Aaron smiled, knowing that most people assumed he was some sort of football player, given his statuesque height and build. He shook hands with the guy, knowing just how to handle men like these, immediately inventing a backstory for himself in the game that would give him a lot more credibility with the coach. He folded his arms in the same way as him, mimicking the body language and slowly engaging the man enough so that he visibly relaxed more in his company; believing every word he said.

“So just one little broken ankle and that was your entire future NFL career gone?” the coach asked, full of sympathy.

“I think about it every single day,” Aaron lied, shaking his head bitterly. “But you’ve got some decent talent on the field here,” he smiled, pointing to the spot where all the young guys had last stood before heading in to shower.

“They’re okay,” the coach agreed, sounding unconvinced. “We’ve certainly had stronger teams in the past.”

Aaron nodded, as if he knew what he was talking about. “There was one who really caught my eye; the really tall one who spent most of the time over there,” he pointed.

“Kirk?” the coach asked. “Yeah, he’s a good player. Not necessarily the brightest guy I’ve ever come across. He’s quite versatile and plays in a variety of positions. I wouldn’t say he exactly excels in any of them though.”

“Have you ever thought about playing him as an offensive tackle?” Aaron asked. “From what I saw today, he looks more suited to that than anything.”

At this, the coach winced. “You should see some of the guys from the other teams in our league who play in that position. Kirk may be tall and strong, but he’d be dwarfed if he had to go up against them.”

“Bulk him up then,” Aaron shrugged, deciding to lift his arm and show off his bicep. “It’s what my coach did for me. It was the best thing that ever happened for my career. Before the ankle…” he added.

The two men discussed the idea for a little while longer, but Aaron had no intention of hanging around just in case Kirk came out and came over, giving the game away that they knew each other. Instead, he simply planted the seed and left it there to grow.

“When am I getting a new pig?” Kirk asked a couple of weeks later, settling into Aaron’s feeding chair.

“When I think you’re ready,” Aaron lied. “Which reminds me,” he smiled, pulling out his phone and playing a video to the football hunk. “Your last assignment’s new feeder sent me this. He’s getting great results with your old pig. Look at the blubber in that tummy now. His six pack is completely gone!”

“He looks completely different!” Kirk marvelled.

“That’s not even the best part,” Aaron chuckled, waiting for the section in the video when the pig turned and bounced his butt cheeks. “His new feeder says he’s never seen anything like it. It’s like the muscle just completely vanished and been replaced by pure blubber. Look at those thighs too! He’s going to be so bottom heavy!”

“That can’t be the same guy,” Kirk protested. “He didn’t gain like that for me.”

“Well, it’s all about finding the right technique that works for your pig,” Aaron explained, undressing himself and grabbing the supplies from the kitchen.

Kirk had followed his lead, kicking his shirt, sweatpants and underwear to the side and sitting himself back down again. An obvious coating and ring of light blubber sat around his middle from all the sessions Aaron had conducted with him in the last few weeks, but it wasn’t time to acknowledge that with him just yet.

“This is the shake and suck technique,” Aaron went on. “It’s the method that helped your old pig get that huge ass of his. I made this shake up this morning, so it’s had plenty of time to lose the chill.” Aaron heaved, lifting a huge gallon container of thick liquid and putting it on the coffee table with a bump. “You’ve had it plenty of times before. You know what’s in it,” he smirked.

“Yeah, but…” Kirk mumbled, looking at the size of the container. “I’ve only had the odd flask of it when we’ve been training. No one could drink that much of it.”

“That’s where this funnel comes in so handy,” the feeder smiled, lifting it up for Kirk to see. “It stops the pig from ending the chug the moment he starts to feel a little uncomfortable, and so it gives us a lot more control over how much we want the fat boy to take down.”

Kirk’s erection had returned. His legs twitched and he looked down suggestively at it. “What about the sucking part of this method?” he asked, knowing that no one gave a blow job like Aaron.

“It’s called the ‘shake and suck’ technique,” Aaron laughed. “As in… one BEFORE the other!” he teased, noting that Kirk appeared aroused enough to begin. “All you need to do is hold this flask, like this,” he instructed, resting Kirk’s head backwards into the chair at the same time. “Then just, chug away until the funnel is emptied.”

From his position, standing behind the feeding chair and looking over Kirk, Aaron could fully appreciate the gentle loss of definition in the boy’s stomach muscles. Today’s session was going to do so much more serious damage! He lifted the container and let it glug outwards, filling the funnel held steady by the athlete underneath. Just as instructed, the naive boy began swallowing it all up, even as Aaron continued to pour; never letting it get below half-way.

At the first break, Kirk moaned loudly, rubbing his enlarged stomach. Then he burped, long and coarsely, until he at last felt more comfortable. “Fuck!” he sighed. “How much of that stuff did you just pour in? I thought it was never going to end!”

“There’s plenty more, don’t you worry!” Aaron laughed, turning so that he could feed his own erection into Kirk’s mouth. “This is something you can only do at the start of this technique,” Aaron explained. “And you’ve got to go gentle. You can’t be making your pig gag when there’s all that fattening liquid in his stomach.”

Aaron could tell that Kirk was at last starting to learn some of the blow job skills he’d been taught in recent weeks. Aaron exhaled and felt his eyes widen. Shit, this guy was actually pretty good!

“And that’s enough of that,” Aaron smiled, pulling out before he lost his composure. “Back to business!” he ordered, placing the funnel back into Kirk’s hands. “This second chug has to be shorter, and the next one will be shorter again,” he explained, already pouring from the now considerably lighter container and looking down to check that Kirk’s hardness wasn’t faltering.

At the end of the second chug, Kirk moaned once more and gave off a long fog-horn like burp. However, this time his stomach was so rounded and stretched, actually resembling a belly for the first time. Without even prompting, Kirk’s hands began exploring it as Aaron engaged in a gentle first suck in his crotch. Not that Aaron would ever have told him, but already over two thirds of the gallon of gainer shake was gone.

“Depending on your pig, this method can take all day. And that’s fine,” Aaron nodded. “The main thing is, we want that shake inside them.”

Automatically, Kirk rested his head back again the moment he felt ready. The third session began and Kirk was soon enjoying the rewards of having Aaron’s lips around his erection once more.

“A pretty effective technique, huh?” Aaron laughed, just stopping as Kirk seemed about to climax.

“Let’s finish this thing!” Kirk grunted, throwing his head back and knowing that the end was near. Fuck the consequences. He needed that orgasm soon.

“You want me to take on another pig?” asked Jack, one of Aaron’s most capable feeders, a few weeks later. “That’s two in the last six weeks!”

Aaron nodded apologetically. “I know. I would do it myself, but I just don’t have the time. His name’s Peter; twenty-two, already chubby; great little appetite when I interviewed him. He wants pushing hard, and he’s kinky as fuck. I think you’ll have a lot of fun with him,” he summarised, showing Jack a picture before sending over the contact details.

“Cute!” Jack smiled. “Are you sure you’re okay with letting me have all the fun?”

“I just know you’ll do a great job,” Aaron chuckled, slapping the guy on his back.

Jack simply smiled back knowingly. “I bumped into Kirk the other day. He told me you haven’t given him a pig in months.”

Aaron raised his eyebrows. “Well, there are reasons for that.”

“You’re flipping him, aren’t you?” Jack pressed. “Kirk tried to tell me that his coach is bulking him up to play a new position on the field, but there’s no denying your handiwork on that little paunch of his. That’s where most of your time is going these days, isn’t it?”

“Possibly,” Aaron smirked, liking how direct Jack could be at times. “I’m throwing everything at him and I’ve yet to find a single one of my moves that doesn’t work on him.”

“Does he realise?” Jack asked.

“What do you think?” Aaron laughed, knowing that he didn’t need to hide his wicked side with a guy like Jack. “I’ve even got him writing up an assignment for me on the ‘feeder training’ he’s had in the last few weeks! He’s coming round this evening for the ‘Funnel, Fuck and Flip’ exercise.”

Jack chuckled. He’d only met Kirk a handful of times, so could hardly pity the guy if he had fallen into one of Aaron’s typical games. “So when are you going to make your move on him?” he asked.

“Soon,” Aaron smiled. “He’s almost ready now… Just one last little push!”

Later that evening, Kirk bent himself against the table with his legs stretched. His stomach was hard and swollen with gainer shake, drooping down as his head was held only inches above a decadent three-layered chocolate cake.

“Not many guys can hold an erection like I can,” Aaron explained, having pushed himself inside Kirk’s tight butt hole with a lot less wincing from the athlete than in previous weeks. “So don’t worry if you struggle with this move when you’re feeding a fatty this way.”

“Okay,” Kirk mumbled back, breathing deeply as his body tried to get used to the sheer size of Aaron’s thick hardness inside of him. “I think I’ll be ready in a second,” he whispered.

“Good,” Aaron replied, trying not to laugh. He leaned a little more over Kirk’s broad back. “Now, messy pigs adore this one. All I’m going to do is gently lower your head into the cake before I start fucking you.”

“So the pig has to try and eat whilst he’s getting pounded?” Kirk asked.

“That’s the idea,” Aaron smirked.

“Is that even possible?” Kirk asked again.

“I guess you’ll soon find out,” Aaron chuckled, checking that Kirk was ready and then pushing his head gently into the cake so that his entire face was covered in frosting. “Good Piggy!” he called out, already starting to fuck him. Despite the many fatties he’d worked on over the years, few were ever as thrilling as this!

A few weeks later, Kirk had arrived at Aaron’s in a somewhat distracted mood. “Coach says I’ve put on too much fat in my bulk, and that it’s affected my performance on the field.”

“Of course you have,” Aaron shrugged, getting himself undressed as Kirk did the same. “How else am I supposed to teach you about how to tease a fat ass properly? You can’t make an omelette without cracking a few eggs.”

Kirk seemed to consider this.

“Now is the time when you can really get to grips with your pig’s trigger words. Some of them love being called out on being a pig, whereas others are not keen. Some don’t even like teasing at all.”

“So you ask them what words they like to be called?” Kirk asked.

“No,” Aaron sighed, wondering how he ever thought that Kirk could make a good feeder. He simply had no intuition at all. “You try the words out and see what works best. Which ones suit them? Which ones get them the hardest? That’s the way I figured out yours.”

“I have trigger words?” Kirk shot back in surprise.

“Of course you do. All FAT BOYS do,” Aaron smiled, poking Kirk in his doughy middle, making the guy’s hardness bounce. “‘Fat Boy’: the name works on you every time. I never could have got you to complete that pot of whipping cream last week without it.”

“Fuck!” Kirk marvelled, perhaps realising for the first time just how much Aaron had actually burrowed into his head. “Are there more?”

“Of course there are,” Aaron nodded. “There are movements too. Like when I cup your glutes and give them a little bounce,” he demonstrated, giving Kirk’s butt cheek the lightest of wobbles. “See?” he asked, nodding down at Kirk’s weeping erection. “You’ve been so firm and athletic your whole life, this is a completely new experience for you. The feeling of fresh fat invading your body. It’s why being called a ‘fat ass’ works so well on you too.”

Aaron kissed him deeply as he continued to jiggle the boy’s glutes. Kirk’s breathing was hot and heavy; more aroused than ever he had been so early into their sessions. This was new and exciting.

“Few people would spot it in you; partly because you're so broad and muscular. But you’re also a very submissive boy,” Aaron continued.

“I am?” Kirk asked. “I thought feeders had to be mostly dominant?”

At this Aaron sniggered. “Oh, come on, Kirk!” he smiled, still bouncing the soft glutes. “You’re no feeder.”

Kirk closed his eyes to appreciate the feeling of his jiggling butt cheeks. “What am I then?” he whispered, sounding like he was finally ready to hear the truth.

Aaron placed his mouth right next to Kirk’s ear and whispered back, deploying the boy’s ultimate trigger word.

“You’re my big, fat HOG!”

Just like that, Kirk moaned like he had been shattered into a thousand pieces. He pulled Aaron into him and kissed him with more passion than ever before.

“You’re going to quit football for me,” Aaron demanded, immediately seizing the moment as Kirk had surrendered himself; a part of him released and fully conscious for the first time.

“I’ll do anything!” Kirk agreed, allowing himself to be pushed into the feeding chair; another stuffing about to commence.

“Good!” Aaron grinned. “Because you’re moving in here with me too. I’m taking a six month sabbatical from the other fatties. I want to see what I can do when I just devote myself to one little hog, twenty four hours a day. How far can I take them?”

Kirk looked down at his stout little belly and his eyes filled with lust. “I’m all yours!”

#gainer stories #gainerstory #gayfeedee #gayfeeder #gainer story #gainerstories #gainerfic #gainer fiction #gainer fic #gay feedee

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tinygrove · 1 month ago

Text

Decent Man Pt.1

The second part

Pairing: Cregan Stark/fem!reader

Author's Note: I've decided to split this into 2 parts just to give myself a chance to work on the ending but I was eager to get something written. This is the first fanfiction I've wrote, or at least posted on this account so I hope it's not too bad.

Summary: You're newly wed to Lord Stark after having only been courted for barely a month. Although the anxieties of having to perform as a 'royal' wife start to eat at you, Cregan proves to be a decent husband.

You must have done it, how else would you be alone in his chambers. Blocking out all the noise and going through the motions would only get you so far. You couldn’t even remember the vows. Lord Stark had arranged for there to be no bedding ceremony, perhaps an act of mercy. You’ve heard some lords complain they simply want their lady wives all to themselves, untouched and unspoiled. You were neither. You weren’t sure if your Lord husband was either.

You hadn’t learned much about him during your courting, not that it lasted long. Your father practically jumped at the opportunity for a stronger alliance to the most powerful house in the North. It must have appeased Lord Stark as well, seeing how quickly he’d agreed to the marriage, it had barely taken place a fortnight after you’d met. Now though, you were in his room, none to accompany you but your ladies in waiting. A few had come with you from your own keep, or rather your fathers. And one or two had been appointed to you since coming to Winterfell to stay. You could hardly form the words to tell them you could undress yourself. Maybe it was the cloak weighing you down, making it harder to breath the harsh winter air. You let it slip off your shoulders and yet you still feel heavy, a weight in your chest and a hard lump in your throat.

Hearing the thick wooden door swing open and shut after heavy footfalls and quick scurrying of feet made the pit in your stomach sink even lower. “Are you well?” He asked, definitely due to your silent stewing. The whole night you’ve been lost in your own thoughts.

“Yes, I am well, thank you.” You force a courteous smile to you face, although more brief and sour than you’d intended. You figure you’ll have to do a lot more of that in the coming years. “You do not look well.” Your not sure he says so in a demeaning way, more so that he’s seen through your flimsy facade. Or maybe he’s focused on the way your hands desperately seek purchase on your gown as your eyes start to brim with tears. You can’t control it when they start to spill.

“There is no need for us to,” He gestures between you with a sigh, trying to supplement actions for words. “Consummate the marriage tonight, if you do not wish it.” He tries to search your eyes for any sort of answer but you avoid his gaze. “Did you hear-”

“Let’s just get it over with.” You say, voice low and wavering with all it’s strength to keep it from cracking. Another stray tear falls down your cheek as you reach behind yourself for the laces of your gown but two large hands hold your arms still.

“You truly think so little of me? That I would– Like I said, there is no need to consummate the marriage tonight.” He brings your arms out from behind your back, holding your chilled hands in his. His fingers and palms are calloused, yet his grip gentle. “I barely had a chance to court you before we wed, perhaps we might come to know each other before; that.” Your eyes flicker down to where his hands encompass yours, and he quickly recedes after catching on but strangely, you find yourself missing his warmth.

As your eyes find his once more he continues. “I shall have a few ladies in your service prepare a chamber for you. I know you’ve not had space for your things but I assure you they’ve been taken care of. In the mean time though you’ll need to take your rest here.” He turns to make for the door and surprisingly a part of you longs for him to stay. The brief bit of kindness he’s shown to you is more than you can say for those that attended your wedding. Your father truly had not exaggerated the icy attitude of those in the North. Lord Stark however, to see his wintry exterior slowly melt away has made it almost impossible to detest him. “I will see you on the morrow, my lady.” He opens the door and a cold breeze comes over you, yet you don’t shiver, the cold only emboldens you. “Thank you, Lord Stark, for your kindness.” your voice is somewhat steady now, no longer fighting an imminent sob. He nods at your words, “Cregan will do just fine, my lady.” You’re alone now and the chill is gone. All the warmth radiating from the hearth is slowly becoming too much to bear even as it smolders to embers. The absence of your Lord husband leaves you feeling alone now, more than you’ve ever been.

#house of the dragon #reader insert #cregan stark #cregan x reader #cregan stark x reader #cregan stark x you #cregan stark/reader #cregan stark/you

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noveauskull · 6 months ago

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Reader, jiyan and Geshu lin daughter bringing her boyfriend to meet their parents. OVERPROTECTIVE DADS ALERT❗❗❗

Jiyan & Geshu Lin With Your Daughter As Her Father(s)! (SFW)

"Mom, Dads, this is my boyfriend"

You watched your daughter introduce your two husbands, Geshu Lin and Jiyan, to her boyfriend that you had already heard about a few days ago.

Naturally you had to be the calmer parent, cause you knew that Geshu Lin and Jiyan would be taking on the task of going bonkers over their daughter growing up so fast, to the point she has found someone to be with.

Even worse, your daughter could take inspiration from your love life, and might just date more than one boy! Now the anxiety really hits.

You glanced at both of your sides, on your right was Jiyan, and on your left was Geshu Lin. Both men sitting on each side of the couch with their eyes locking in with the younger male individual, they clearly were not pleased.

"He works as an intern at the hospital, aiming to be a nurse there, and his parents have respectable jobs too! His mom is a teacher and his dad is a lawyer! And he can play 3 instruments! Isn't he talented?"

Your daughter boasted over her boyfriend. You watched the young man blush at her words and scratch his nape, telling her to not shower him with too much praise over something he was simply born with.

You let out an awkward smile. You already knew the boy was a total sweetheart, he was respectful, and even offered to help you when you had to clean the dishes.

Even better, he asked to bring home some of the dishes you cooked on your first meeting, you can't imagine your daughter being with any other guy than him, because you were already a hundred percent supportive of their relationship.

"A teacher, lawyer, and nurse? Your family must be very rich" Geshu Lin said, smiling at the boy, but for some reason, it didn't feel friendly at all.

"A-Ah yes, their jobs do help them earn a lot of money, especially when they've been doing those jobs for a long time" The boyfriend said, stuttering when he saw Geshu Lin's smile drop the moment he spoke.

"That's good then, at least our daughter has someone to buy her all the jewelry and clothes she wants" Jiyan nodded, however he wasn't smiling one bit.

"..."

The room went silent, all you did was take a small sip of the tea you prepared. Glancing at the two men beside you with their cold eyes glaring daggers onto the poor boy's head.

Before you knew it, it was only you and your daughter doing all the talking, the 3 men in the room barely had anything to say, but Geshu Lin and Jiyan seemed very calm, so you didn't do anything to disturb their thought process.

Once it was getting late, you bid your daughter's boyfriend goodbye, watching your daughter plant a kiss onto her boyfriend's cheek before he left as you closed the door.

"Well I think that went well" You said, smiling at your daughter who seemed very happy about today's performance.

"Yeah! Dads' were super chill about it too" The two of you laughed together, heading to the living room to watch TV.

What you two didn't realize though, was that the two men that were usually at home wasn't around, you were just too relieved to even notice that the two were outside the house, both standing beside your daughter's boyfriend.

"Make sure you treat my daughter very well, she doesn't like guys with no sense" Geshu Lin said, his arm wrapped around the boyfriend's neck, earning a nod from the boy who was awkwardly smiling at him.

"And don't forget to tell us everything you're doing with her, that includes where you are going, what you are eating, why are you going out with her, and when will you pick her up and drop her, don't leave any details either" Jiyan added, his arms crossed.

This continued on for an hour before they heard you calling for them, noticing that they haven't been around the house for a while.

And this is the nicest behavior the two gave towards the boyfriend, just know, if things ever goes south, the poor boy would definitely face his consequences if anything happened to their daughter.

-----

A/N: Hope this scenario was good enough! Ty for the request! 👐👐

#wuthering waves #wuwa #jiyan #wuwa jiyan #geshu lin #wuwa geshu lin #wuthering waves fluff #wuwa fluff #wuthering waves headcanons #wuthering waves x you #wuthering waves x reader #geshu lin x reader #jiyan x reader #jiyan x you

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luveline · 11 months ago

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Please a Hotch (new girl dad LMFAO) little fic where he discovers the joys and wonders of being a girl dad 😭🤍 like dressing up and playing tea party, or ‘honey, what do I put in her hair?? A bow? A ribbon?? A headband?? A clip??’ Or something about their baby girl always running to him when she bumps her head or falls!! I think it would be really cute

“Do you mind?” you ask through giggles.

Aaron rubs his hand up the length of your stomach. It tickles in a strange way, but you’re laughing because he’s cornered you on the couch. He takes up the entirety of your view, the air hot between your close faces.

“No,” he says simply. He has big hands, warm hands. They leave heat in their wake where they touch you.

“No, come on. I can’t see Jane.” You’re mostly kidding. You really can’t see Jane, but she’s about three feet away, and your living room is baby proofed.

Aaron peeks behind his shoulder. His smile says more than words —he must have caught her smiling herself. “You okay, honey?”

“Yes. Okay. Okay?”

“Yeah, sweetheart, I’m okay, I’m just giving mommy some kisses.” Aaron strokes your stomach with a loving thumb. “You want to come over here for a cuddle?”

Jane doesn’t answer. Aaron turns back to you with a glowing smile. “She’s very happy. Now let me kiss you–” You’re laughing again as he kisses you, your cheek, the high point and the end of your brow.

“I can’t believe you’ve cornered me,” you say, nudging him away to hold his face in your hands. “It’s too warm in here for this, you need to give me some space.”

“I don’t want space from you,” he jokes, matching your playful tone.

“Daddy!” Jack calls from somewhere deeper in the house. “I need help!”

“With what?” he calls, sitting up and away from your touch. He squeezes your leg as he leaves, his voice echoing against the hallway walls, “Jack? What’s the problem, buddy?”

He waits for an answer he doesn’t get before heading upstairs. You weren’t lying when you said it was too hot for kisses —the winter chill is pervasive and Jane is vulnerable to the cold, so the heat is high and the Hotchner boys are pink in the cheeks every time you see them. You fan your face, tracking Jane’s clumsy waddling as she ferries a pink teddy bear next to her baby doll beside the picnic blanket you’d laid out for her.

“Having fun, Janey?” you ask.

“Baba,” she mumbles.

“Alright, that’s fun. How about I go make us some dinner?”

“Babababa…”

“Bababa,” you say back.

You set about cleaning the mess she’s making before it can explode and prop the door between the living room and the kitchen open to watch her while you peel some potatoes. She plays happily for a while, and upstairs you can hear the celebratory shouts of the boys having figured something out. “Come have some juice before you do the next part,” Aaron says.

With a sudden bump and a telling silence, Jane falls over. You drop your potatoes and wipe your hands on your front, prepared to sweep her up in your arms and coo away any tears. Her crying rings like a storm siren, so loud you miss the rush of footsteps down the stairs.

“Baby,” you say softly, holding out your arms as you approach. Aaron and Jack trickle into the room behind her. “Let mommy see? What did you do, huh?”

She climbs onto her feet. You don't even realise she’s looking away from you until she’s running at her father’s legs, completely ignoring your offered embrace. “Oh, sweetheart,” Aaron says, bending down to meet her. “What did you do? You hurt yourself? Let me have a look. Let me see.”

Your chest is a pit, that falling feeling as though you’ve missed a step, but the open joy on Aaron’s face soothes any jealousy quickly. “What did you do?” he asks again, lifting his head to accommodate her little body as she wraps her arms and legs around him. He picks her up. She looks small under his chin. “It’s okay. It’s okay.”

Jack weaves around him to hug your thigh. “Did she fall?” he asks.

He can come to you for anything, big or small, just like Jane can go to her father. You ruffle his soft hair with a smile. “She’s just shocked when things don’t feel nice because she’s so little. It probably didn’t hurt very much, okay? Don’t worry.”

“Don’t listen to mommy,” Aaron murmurs, patting what looks like the entire span of Jane’s back with a barely opened palm, “I’m sure it hurt lots and lots.”

“Dad,” she mumbles tearily.

Aaron gives you the look. One he does all too often when he’s feeling grateful for the things he has, his brow pinched into a gentler furrow than usual. “I know, honey. That floor is so mean, always hurting you. I think we should get some soft carpets instead, what do you think?”

Jack tugs on your hand. “Can you make me some apple juice, please? I think he will be here for a while.”

You’re thinking there’ll be carpets fitted in here within the month. “Sure, babe. You wanna help me make some French fries?”

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble

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nahoney22 · 7 months ago

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Me again! Please can I request some HC’s with the bad batch and how they react to reader (gn or female) accidentally crawling into the boys bunk at night 😂

Accidental Sleeping Arrangements

All Bad Batch Boys X GN!Reader

How the boys react to you accidentally crawling into their bunk at night.

warnings: Fluff, comfort, cuddles, some moody boys, gender neutral reader. Can be read as romantic or platonic.

Echo 💤

The first time:

As you slid into his bunk accidentally that evening, he was thoroughly bewildered. He had jolted awake and sat upright, observing your exhausted form snuggling against him, eyelids heavy with fatigue.

With tactful gentleness, he roused you from your slumber, delicately shaking you to bring you back to awareness. "Hey, um, you're in my bunk, trooper."

Your eyes flickered open, adjusting to the dim light, and a muttered curse escaped your lips as you retreated, cheeks warming with embarrassment. "Sorry, Echo," you apologized, slipping out of his bunk. "I must be completely drained," you sheepishly confessed.

"It's alright. I just didn't want to startle you by waking up to my face," he commented. You glance at him with a furrow forming on your brow before you shook your head.

"I doubt I'd be bothered by that..." your words trailed off, potentially carrying unintended flirtation. Echo's eyes widened slightly, his hand instinctively moving to the back of his neck, a clear sign of slight shyness at your words.

"Anyway," you say abruptly, spinning on your heel. "Sorry about that."

Echo simply nodded, silently observing as you retreated to your own bunk, leaving him with a sudden chill in the air, now yearning for the warmth you briefly brought beside him.

The second time:

With a tired yawn, Echo wearily approaches his bunk a few nights later, only to halt in surprise at the sight of someone curled up inside. Upon closer inspection, he realises it's you again, presenting him with a slight dilemma.

Despite his weariness, Echo knows he needs rest, and while your bunk is an option, his own provides the perfect setup for his cybernetics, ensuring he's at his best for the next day's duties.

Letting out a small sigh, hoping you wouldn't mind, he settles on the edge of his bunk and gently wakes you. "Hey, you're in my bunk again," he murmurs softly.

You stir, meeting his gaze before cringing slightly. "Again? I'm so sorry," you begin to rise, but his hand on your shoulder stops you.

"You can stay, but I'd also like to get some sleep... if you, uh, catch my meaning," he hints with a faint smile, hoping you understand.

"Oh," you blush, considering for a moment. "Well, I hope you don't mind sharing."

"Not at all," he reassures, his tone gentle as you make space. He lies beside you, and before long, you drift back to sleep. Echo finds solace in the rhythm of your soft snores, gradually succumbing to sleep himself... though waking up to find you both cuddling is a surprise he hadn't anticipated, yet one he welcomes warmly.

Hunter 💤

The first time:

When Hunter awoke to find you crawling into his bunk, confusion gripped him. Instantly alert, his hands tensed, ready to confront any potential intruder, but his apprehension melted away as he recognised you.

He lay there in silence, contemplating his next move.

While a part of him felt inclined to let you sleep, considering your recent exhaustion, he couldn't shake the concern of startling you upon awakening to find him beside you.

After ensuring you were deeply asleep, he carefully extricated himself from the occupied bunk, making sure not to disturb you.

Once free, he couldn't suppress a soft chuckle as he observed you, peacefully snuggled into his pillow, emitting gentle snores. “Sleep well.” He whispered to you before leaving you to rest.

He made a mental note to address the situation in the morning, but perhaps it’s better left unsaid since you’ll know your error when you woke up.

The second time:

As you woke up to find yourself in Hunter's bunk, mortification swept over you. Yet, when you encountered Hunter in the cockpit, he didn't mention a word about it, instead offering you a drink of caf.

A small part of you entertained the idea that perhaps he was unaware of the nighttime intrusion. However, your suspicions were confirmed a few nights later.

Fatigued and not paying attention to your surroundings, you headed towards what you thought was your bunk and climbed inside, only to be surprised by the presence of another person. "Hunter, what're you doing?" you blurt out, eyes widening in disbelief.

"I could ask you the same question," he chuckles, adjusting his position and turning to face you. "This is my bunk."

Blinking in realisation, you glance around, confirming his assertion. "Oh," you laugh sheepishly, "I thought this was mine."

His smile is gentle, his eyes gleaming faintly in the dim light. "You're more than welcome to stay," he offers casually, though he soon realizes the potential implications of his words. "If you want to, that is."

A part of you knows you should return to your own bunk, yet there's an inexplicable pull keeping you there. "Well, I'm all comfy now..." you hint with a small smile.

He nods, turning his gaze away and closing his eyes. "Me too. Sleep well."

It took you a moment to fall asleep but just like how Hunter didn’t tell you that you had slept in his bunk first initially, you won’t tell him how he pulls you into his body as he slept and held you close throughout the night. Not that you seemed to mind.

Wrecker 💤

The first time:

"Wrecker, you scared me! What are you doing in my bunk?" you exclaimed, startled by the unexpected intrusion.

As you thought you were settling into your bunk for the night, using your hands to navigate through the darkness, you accidentally crawled onto something large and hard.

Assuming it was just your sheets bunched up, you attempted to smooth it out, only to be met with a small yelp that made your heart skip a beat.

"Huh?" Wrecker groggily emerged from his sleep cocoon, rubbing his eyes. "This is my bunk, isn't it?"

"No, I'm pretty sure it's mine," you asserted, but as Wrecker shifted in the bunk and reached under the blanket, he pulled out his beloved Lula.

"Oh. Maybe not then." You felt pretty embarrassed by your mistake, but Wrecker didn't seem to mind at all.

"It's alright, thought I was going to get an extra cuddle buddy for a second there!" he chuckled heartily, waving Lula in your face. His laughter filled the room, and you couldn't help but feel a warmth spread through you at the thought of being Wrecker's "cuddle buddy," though you weren't entirely sure if he was joking.

Deciding not to dwell on it further and eager to avoid keeping Wrecker awake any longer, you offered a meek apology before retreating to your actual bunk. As you settled in, you couldn't shake the image of Wrecker's playful grin from your mind.

The second time:

Wrecker stared down at his bunk, finding it already occupied with not much room left for him. You were snoozing away, oblivious to his dilemma. Wrecker knew he could be a bit of a grouch without his sleep, so he decided to gently prod you awake.

"Hey," he nudged you, rousing you from your slumber. "Is this you asking to be my cuddle buddy?"

You stirred awake, blinking in confusion as you glanced at him. It was then that you noticed Lula on the pillow next to your head. "Oh shoot, sorry Wrecker," you sighed groggily, just wanting to fall back asleep into the warmth of his bunk.

"It's alrigh’," he chuckled softly, his deep voice filling the room with warmth. "But uh... I kinda need to sleep."

"Then come cuddle next to me," the words slipped out before you realized what you were saying, but you didn't want to take them back either. The thought of Wrecker's warmth beside you was oddly comforting.

Wrecker was surprised for a moment, his eyes widening slightly, before a soft smile spread across his face. Without hesitation, he slung his armor off and crawled into the space beside you. "Are ya sure about this?"

"Mhm," you replied sleepily, your arms spreading over his chest as you nestled into him like a log warming a fire. "You're warm."

Wrecker smiled to himself, feeling a sense of contentment wash over him as he closed his eyes, feeling your steady breathing against his chest.

Tech 💤

The first time:

Sleep was not a common occurrence for Tech, so when he made the rare decision to nestle down for the night, he wasn't too perturbed to find you asleep in his allocated spot.

He paused for a moment, considering whether to wake you, but recalling your exhausted state earlier, he reasoned that you wouldn't have intentionally taken his bunk.

Instead, he quietly observed the peaceful rise and fall of your chest, noting the serenity that graced your features, before silently retreating back to the cockpit where he remained awake for the night once again.

"Tech, why didn't you wake me? I feel terrible," you expressed your guilt that next morning upon discovering that you had accidentally slept in his bunk, leaving him to forego his own rest.

"That is not necessary. You were tired, and I can always keep my mind occupied with tasks or reading intel," he replied in his usual composed manner, peering at you over his datapad. "I shall assume this was a one-time occurrence, and my bunk shall be my own again tonight."

“Yes, of course," you nodded, your expression reflecting genuine concern as you offered another apology before preparing for the demanding day ahead. Despite Tech's assurances, the weight of your unintended intrusion lingered.

The second time:

It just so happened to be the next night that you found yourself once again interrupting Tech's sleep. Moving through the dark ship with heavy eyes and a yawn on your lips, it was no surprise that you once again miscounted where your bunk was and crawled into the wrong one.

Your head hit the pillow, and your eyes shut as the warmth of the bed enveloped you. However, despite the comfort, a small flickering light kept intruding upon your consciousness, prompting your eyes to flutter open. At first, you didn't register the source, but as you turned your head to the right, your eyes widened in realisation: Tech laying there on his datapad, as if nothing had happened.

"Tech, what... am I...?" you began, your voice trailing off as confusion clouded your thoughts.

"In the wrong bunk?" he interjected calmly, settling his datapad down and gazing down at you. His goggles rested atop his head, allowing you to see the brightness of his eyes in the dark. "That is correct."

You sit up, feeling a rush of embarrassment flood over you, and run your hand over your face in frustration. "I'm sorry. I don't know what's up with me.”

Tech raises a single brow, his expression softened with genuine concern. "Perhaps in the morning, I should run some tests if you will allow me?" he suggests softly, his voice carrying a hint of worry. "But for now, I suggest you get some sleep."

Nodding in agreement, you reluctantly pull the blanket off your body, preparing to retreat to your own bunk. However, before you can make your escape, Tech's hand gently rests on your shoulder, stopping you in your tracks.

"You are free to continue sleeping in my bunk tonight if you find it comfortable," he offers unexpectedly, his gesture of kindness catching you off guard.

"What, really?" you respond, turning to face him, searching his eyes for confirmation.

With a nod, Tech reclines back and retrieves his datapad. "Yes, really. I do not mind."

"But what if I keep you awake again?" you voice your concern.

"Do not worry about me," he reassures softly, a warm smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Now, get some rest before I give you a lecture about the benefits of getting sleep."

You chuckle softly at his remark before settling, finding comfort in his understanding demeanor. As you prepare to drift off into slumber, you can't help but feel thankful for Tech's compassion and generosity.

In the quiet of the night, you woke up only once, feeling Tech's arm drape gently across your body. Yet, instead of feeling unsettled, you found comfort in his presence.

Crosshair 💤

The first time:

As you prepared to settle in for the night after a long day, exhaustion clouded your judgment, leading you to absentmindedly crawl into a bunk without much thought. However, your relaxation was short-lived as you were startled by a gravelly voice beside you.

"What are you doing?" The abrupt question made you jump, and you inadvertently knocked your head against the top of the bunk in surprise.

"What am I doing? What the kriff are you doing?" you retorted in annoyance, rubbing your sore head as Crosshair sat up beside you, his expression stern in the dim light.

"I'll think you'll find this is my bunk," he hissed, his sharp gaze piercing through the darkness. As you glanced across the room, you realised your mistake—the bunk you were in wasn't yours.

"Oh."

"Yes. Oh. Now get out before I drag you out," he threatened, though you could tell it was more playful than serious.

"Alright, alright, keep your hair on," you sighed as you obediently crawled out of his bunk, feeling the absence of warmth as you departed.

Crosshair grumbled under his breath and rolled back onto his side to sleep, while you mentally chided yourself for the blunder, making sure you never accidentally try to sleep in his bunk again.

The second time:

You're exhausted, your head throbbing with the relentless ache of sleep deprivation from the past few days, and you've reached the point where you don't care where you sleep anymore. And that includes Crosshair's bunk.

As you settle down on the edge of his bunk, the closest one available, you feel the weight of his gaze on your back, following your movements as you swing your legs around and lay down. "What are you doing?" his voice cuts through the silence, tinged with irritation.

You don't reply, simply closing your eyes as you allow the fatigue to wash over you, hoping for a moment's respite.

"This is my bunk," he asserts firmly, his agitation evident, but as you remain silent, his annoyance shifts to confusion.

"Are you... alright?" he inquires, concern creeping into his voice.

You shake your head softly, and you hear him sigh, but he doesn't press you further. Nor does he demand that you leave.

As sleep begins to claim you, Crosshair remains awake for a while, his thoughts swirling. In his mind, he tells himself that this is a one-time occurrence.

Yet, if you're upset and in need of somewhere to rest for a while, he doesn't mind if you sleep next to him again. After all, it turns out to be the best sleep he's had in a while too.

Masterlist

Tags: @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417@eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex x @jesseeka @theroguesully y @ladykatakuri @arctrooper69 @padawancat97@staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @chrissywakingup @pb-jellybeans s @nunanuggets s @sleepycreativewriter @erellenora @zippingstars87 7 @ezras-left-thumb @the-rain-on-kamino @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur @seriowan @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @thesith @raevulsix @cw80831 @knightprincess @crosshairlovebot @imalovernotahater @id-rather-be-a-druid @the-bad-batch-baroness @lulalovez @green-alm0nd @thiswitchloves9904

#the bad batch HCs #the bad batch x reader #bad batch x reader #echo x reader #tech x reader #Hunter x reader #Wrecker x reader #crosshair x reader #the bad batch #tbb #nahoney22 writes

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