#but for now i must simply chill as they say
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that-butch-archivist · 5 months ago
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Making a birthday cake for a friend tonight (something I haven't done for a while), and I forgot how much I love baking & cake decorating. I'll post pics when I'm done, I'm very excited. 🥰
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hannieehaee · 14 days ago
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TRAINING SEASON (teaser)
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18+ / mdi
summary: unfortunately for vernon, all his friends were gym bros, leading to constant harassment for him to join the lifestyle. after weeks of twelve men constantly bugging at him to accompany them, all it takes is one girl for vernon to finally give in.
content: strangers2friends2lovers!vernon, fitness!reader, vernon's kind of a loser here, reader is friends with the other 12, vernon's not into fitness, downbad!vernon, reader is implied to be into fitness but her body's not really described in any specific way, afab reader, smut, semi-public sex, handjob, kind of sub!vernon, dry humping, penetrative sex, etc.
(^ no actual content warnings in the teaser)
wc: 667 (teaser); 9.3k (full fic)
RELEASE DATE: january 7th
or you can check it out on my patreon today by subscribing!
a/n: okay i know the sneak peak is pretty tame and doesnt even include reader but i promise she's in there and that it gets better
masterlist
"C'mon, Nonnie. Come with us. Just this once."
"You don't even have to work out, we just want-"
"No, if I have to work out, he has to work out. You guys have been dragging me with you to engage in your masochist tendencies for weeks. He deserves the same treatment."
Vernon simply groaned at all the noise, uncaring of what Seungkwan, Mingyu and Jeonghan were saying, respectively. Instead, he opted to cover his face with a pillow, attempting to muffle all the noise his friends were making so early in the morning.
Then suddenly, the comfort of his blanket left him, followed by his pillow being pulled from his hold and used to deliver a swift smack against his head before being whisked away and landing on the opposite side of the room.
One more, he groaned, but this time louder. His eyes opened to find the culprit standing above him, squinting due to the sudden surge of sunlight into his vision at having opened his eyes.
"Dude, stop being a lazy piece of shit and come with us," nagged Joshua.
God, how many of them were in his apartment? It was supposed to be just him and Seungkwan who lived here, where did the rest come from?
"What time is it?" he finally grumbled out, sitting up. It's not like he had any options anyway.
"It's 9:16 in the morning," informed him Wonwoo from outside his bedroom. God, was he here too?
"Why are all of you in my apartment? Seungkwan, we agreed that-"
"We all have keys, you idiot. Now get up. We're going to the gym," this time it was Chan.
"Do all twelve of you go to the same gym at the same time? God, they must hate you."
Vernon finally sat up against his headboard, head counting a total of five of his friends currently in his room, assuming the rest to be either in his kitchen or living room.
God damn you, Boo Seungkwan.
"We're pretty well liked, actually."
A few of the members nodded along to Mingyu's rebuttal.
Yeah, that made sense. Twelve muscly and more than objectively attractive men were likely magnets for clientele over at the gym.
All the more reason to not join them.
All his friends were fitness addicts (sans Jeonghan, maybe). Simply gym bros who had developed what Vernon liked to call an unhealthy habit to exercise — despite how ironic that statement sounded. Vernon, on the other hand, had never been one to put too much emphasis on fitness. He liked his build as it was; some slightly toned muscle and a slim frame. He never really saw any need to bulk up like most of his friends, so he never gained an interest for it.
Yet his friends had tried to convince him to join them, time and time again.
Jeonghan had been the one other friend they had to convince to join them. Other than Vernon, Jeonghan was the only other member of their large friend group who had a proclivity against the gym. But his love for spending time with his friends had won him over, making him tag along just for the mere purpose of not feeling FOMO.
Now, Vernon did not have that issue. He didn't mind missing out on hang outs. He was a pretty lowkey, chill guy. Staying at home unless it was vital for him to leave, now that was more up his alley.
Except now he had twelve men nagging at him to get up, put on some basketball shorts and a flimsy tank top and join them at their gym. It had been a few weeks of this insistence, leading to this moment — all his friends breaking into his and Seungkwan's apartment in order to drag him out.
And the sad thing was that it worked. Apparently it took twenty-three consecutive days of bugging at Vernon to convince him of doing something he didn't want to do for him to budge. He hoped this didn't become some sort of pattern.
...
you can check it out today on my patreon by subscribing!
reply if you'd like to be tagged upon its release on tumblr!
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a-hazbin-reader · 10 months ago
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Alastor gets that DILF energy. He’s doing whatever with his kid, holding the baby and just chilling when suddenly reader pounces on him because she finds it so attractive. He doesn’t know what’s going on, but his wife suddenly being… excited isn’t always fun and he won’t say no
YOO-
Alastor X Reader Headcanons
✅️Romantic
❌️Platonic
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TW: Suggestive, ALASTOR GETTING LAID, ALASTOR BEING PUSHED TO HIS LIMIT, Wife is H O R N Y
Description: ☝️⬆️
Alastor has taken to fatherhood more easily than even he had expected, loving and protecting his little family with an intense fierceness
He loves watching his wife tend to their babies, something about it making his chest swell with happiness and pride
He didn't consider that watching him act paternal would do things to his beloved wife
The first time it happens, he doesn't see the correlation at all, just assuming his wife had been feeling pent up
He was putting his children down for bed, arguing with his adorably mouthy little girl while giving her brother his favorite plushie(he needs it to sleep)
"Now I know you're upset with this arrangement, little one, but you and your brother must get some shut eye."
She's visibly displeased, rubbing her eye as she fights off sleep, leaning on his shoulder as she pouts
Alastor sees you watching him in the doorway, a fond smile on your face as you watch him try to convince your daughter to sleep
What he doesn't see is the small flush on your face, the way your eyes follow his arms as he lays the baby down or the way you swallow as he kisses both his children goodnight
Seeing him so caring and gentle and soft is just-doing things to you
Alastor isn't sure WHAT is happening when as soon as the door closes behind him, you're pulling him into the bedroom by his collar
"My dear, what-mmf!"
Later, when he's laying in bed naked, staring up at the ceiling while you doze on his chest, he'll wonder what got into you
Not that he minded, it was just unexpected
The second time it happens?? Alastor has an inkling of what might be setting you off but doesn't know for sure
His son had tripped and fallen, crying his little eyes out, the impact probably having scared him more than any real pain
But Alastor hates seeing his baby boy cry, so he picked him up and gently examined his son's hands, blowing on the little scratches there before kissing them
"There~ Papa made it all better, see?"
The boy simply sniffled and wrapped his little arms around Alastor's neck, seeking the comfort of his father
And Alastor couldn't deny the way his heart swelled, rubbing his son's back as he rocked and soothed the baby
Not even two minutes after he had put down his son, who was suddenly enamored with Vaggie and following her, did Alastor feel a menacing aura
All he felt was his wife's hand on his shoulder before he was suddenly being dragged up the stairs
He barely has time to register your lips on his neck and hands wandering under his clothes before you're cooing at him to touch you
Ah well...how can he say no to such a generous request?
Husk doesn't say anything when a disheveled Alastor stumbles out of the room hours later and drinks everything in sight before going back
Just keep playing with the babies, Husk...just keep playing with the babies...
Alastor starts to legitimately worry that you'll get pregnant again at this point...so soon after the last time...
Alastor is ready for it the third time, having decided to test out his theory and see if he's right
So he's deliberate in playing with his children in front of you, watching your reaction out of the corner of his eye
You're sitting and reading, not even looking up at them...
The twins are currently hiding from him, their little ears poking out from behind the couch as they giggle and try to keep quiet
Alastor is slow and purposeful as he stalks around the couch, brushing a hand against the back of your neck as he passes by
"Now where could my little fawns be hiding, hm~? Surely not...over...HERE~!"
They scream and scramble to run away from their father, only to be scooped up by his strong arms and held close
Now you're glancing over your book at them, your eyes zeroing in on your husband
He's kissing and nuzzling the twins, their little hands pushing his face away as they squirm, unaware of how futile it is
Alastor looks so smug when you put your book down and start to really take an interest in what he's doing
He gives piggyback rides, tosses and catches them, chases them and everything else he can think of
All while being painfully aware of your heated gaze on him
And if he was purposefully teasing you and drawing out a little extra time with his kids... who was gonna know?
So he isn't surprised when Charlie and Vaggie are being put in charge of baby duty, and Alastor is being lead upstairs
He's ready for it when the door locks behind him and you're guiding his hands over your body
He's about ready to tap out when you roll over on top of him, straddling his lap and encouraging him to go again
"Darling...are you sure you're not in heat or something?"
You laugh at him and it's the scariest yet sexiest thing he's ever heard, his manhood curious but confused by his emotions
"Don't tell me your well has gone dry, darling~ Charlie said she'd watch the kids for us all night~"
He wakes up the next day feeling like he got hit by truck, his throat is parched and he has dried sweat on him-
He hears the bedroom door open, and his wife looks so innocent and happy, not at all like the bedroom monster he keeps meeting
You come up and kiss his forehead, sitting down next to him before handing him a glass of water
"Good morning, darling~ Our babies are waiting to see you so hurry up and get out of bed~"
He watches you walk out of the room, a small part of him proud of the slight wobble in your step but a larger part of him scared for his life
He never thought he would go out like this-
Worth it though 👌
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HERE! TAKE IT BEFORE MY FACE MELTS FROM BLUSHING
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dollwrites · 1 year ago
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𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!reader, dub con, virginity loss, suggested sex work / trafficking, pantalone is kind of rough, fingering, all characters featured are aged 18+
𝗶��𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading < 3
𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘁𝗼𝗯𝗲𝗿 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟯 ∣ day nineteen [ pantalone + experience / power dynamic ]
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“L-like this?”
you shuddered at the position you found yourself in. not simply because the air in Snezhnaya was chilled. not simply because you were stark naked in a darkened room, lain upon silk and fur bedding you that held no familiar scent, but because you were afraid of the man standing at the foot of the bed. afraid of what he might do once you laid on your stomach like he’d asked. though his voice was softer than most men in Snezhnaya, he sounded all the more wicked because of it. like a devil with a sugar-coated tongue.
“Oh, dear…” he purrs from behind you, but when you feel a warm brush of gloved digits along the small of your back, you flinch. you’re grateful that he can’t see the way you hide, burying your face in the fur beneath you. “Not quite. How am I going to fuck you if you’re flat like this?” a low and daunting chuckle bubbles up from the depths of his chest. “Here, allow me to help you.”
you hadn’t been expecting what happened next.
his hand dipped between your thighs, middle two fingers worming their way into your virgin entrance without warning. you elicit a soft whine of uncertain protest. sliding deep enough to anchor them against your spasming wall, his palm pressed flush against your core, Pantalone pulls your lower half off the bed. you cry out, and bite against the fur blanket, feeling his fingers pushing hard inside you as he positions you by the grip on your cunt alone.
“There we are. You look much prettier with your back arched, and your ass in the air, and even moreso with fingers in your pussy. My fingers” he murmurs, taking a few moments to tease your insides, his digits probe and rub your sensitive, spongy walls, as if gauging how good you feel. “You’re warm. As tight as I expected. Perhaps you are worth an investment, after all.”
“Gentle, please—“ you whine, your hands already grasping for the bedding underneath you, your voice muffled from the blanket between your teeth, and you look over your shoulder and up at him with a pleading gaze. his spectacles hang from their chain around his neck, as if he feared they would fog up from the playtime. but you see his eyes shape into crescents as he simpered wide.
“Do you think you have any say whatsoever in what I do with you, my dear?”
the question catches you off guard, your eyes widen at how direct it is, and you ponder it, dumbfounded.
“I— I—“
Pantalone takes note of the gears working in your head and he chuckles, pulling his fingers from your depths, he uses them to tease the elasticity of your entrance instead, spreading you open until you groan and squirm. a plea for him to stop never makes it past your lips, because he’s already swooning.
“Don’t hurt yourself trying to come up with an answer, dear. It’s all right if you don’t know, I know how hard it must be for you to wrack your simple, little brain. I’ll generously enlighten you. You cost me quite a bit of mora to procure. That means I own you, dear. Now, be a good, little investment.” his voice drops to a low, threatening octave as his free hand presses down hard between your shoulder blades, forcing your upper half back against the fur. it tickles your face, and smells of clean, expensive cologne. “Comply for me, dear. Reach back here and spread those pretty lips, let’s see that eager, virgin hole.”
your face was on fire as he demands this of you, and you didn’t know if you could do such a humiliating act, but your arms move before you’ve fully decided, acting without your consent to reach around. trembling fingertips press against your own folds, spreading them with a soft whimper as the cool air tickles your most vulnerable region once it’s completely open and exposed.
you can no longer see him, and he’s moved away from your body, but you can hear the rustling of heavy furs and fabrics as he sheds his garments. you shudder again, realizing that in a moment he’ll be naked, and even though you’d never done this before, you knew what would follow.
“Very good, put your sweet cunt on display for me. Show me how tight you are, I want to compare this sight to how stretched you’ll be when I’m finished, drooling cum and twitching.”
“G-gentle, please…!” you murmur again, but this time it’s much softer and more hopeless, punctuated by a flustered, little squeak when two warm hands grasp your hips. he’s no longer wearing his gloves, and his willowy digits dig into your supple hips, nails scraping at the outer most layer.
“You make such a beautiful, pathetic parrot, my dear. Always repeating yourself, begging to be treated with care.” Pantalone chuckles and pulls you close, allowing the swollen tip of his dick to prod against your opening. you gasp, wanting to recoil. your fingertips twitch and yearn to push the intruder away, but you manage to stay still, though rather shaky. “But I don’t want you to be a parrot, my pet. Oh no, I want to make you a songbird.”
as he croons his intentions, he forces his cock against your delicate opening, tunneling into untapped innocence with a full thrust, and you cry out with tears in your eyes. your nails bite at your own skin as you try to grasp for something to relieve some of the sting of being stretched for the first time, but Pantalone only chuckles and leans over, dragging his broad chest against your shoulder, his lips against your cheek as he murmurs. “There you go, my naive little bird. I will make you sing louder and louder. Until your throat burns for me, and your body craves my cock above all else.”
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totheseok · 7 months ago
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☆ boynextdoor reaction to you biting them
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requested: no
genre: fluff ig?
warnings: none that i can think of
word count: 1.1k
a/n: more self indulgent things because I have a biting problem.
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sungho:
gobsmacked
yk that really shocked face he makes where his mouth is open and his eyes are wide?
that's his face when he realises you bit him
it's a light bite but it's unexpected
you two are in the lower homes living room just chilling. sungho is playing fifa while you just mindlessly scroll on your phone. eventually you get tired of your phone and now you need your boyfriends attention. but sungho is locked in on the game and you know simply asking for his attention wouldn't work. so naturally you do what must be done. and you bite his arm. you bit him lightly but you've never bitten him before so man was s h o c k e d. he looks towards you eyes wide, mouth open and then looks at his arm, then back at you.
"hi"
"hi? did you just bite me?"
"mhm"
"why?"
you bit him again and cuddled up in his side 😌
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riwoo:
goes silent
riwoo.exe has stopped responding
like remember the funnextdoor episode where he went quiet and woonhak was like "riwoo is trying to think of something funny to say"
kinda like that
riwoo gives me yapper vibes so...
you two are sitting at the table in the kitchen just enjoying some snacks while talking about your day. he's probably telling you about a new dance he's learning or something stupid that happened at dance practice. you're just listening and watching your absolute cutie patootie of a boyfriend yap away. as he's doing this you cant help but notice how cute his cheeks look. and how biteable they look.... and so to preserve your own sanity you do just that. you bite his cheek 😌. following your bite all you hear is, well, nothing. sanghyeok is just sitting staring at you with wide eyes, bite unfinished. man is shocked, flustered, flabbergasted and so much more
"riwoo?"
"..."
"baby?"
"..."
"sanghyeok?"
"..."
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jaehyun:
menace pt1
bros probably going to start singing bite me ngl
but we know hes a dramatic pookie
so that too
you and jaehyun are in his room. hes studying some english. youre having the time of your life, laying with your head in his lap, watching him struggle to pronounce "yacht". you offered to help him but noooo, he can do it. refuses to let you help because he wants to prove he can do it himself and with any other word you wouldnt doubt him. he's quite good at english and hes improving rapidly but the word "yacht"... its a pain in the ass to learn at first even if english is your first language. i mean look at it it should be pronounced "ya ch t" or something. he had first said "ya ch t" and was convinced that's how it was pronounced until he looked at your face and realised he was wrong. but was going to ask for help? no? but manz could NOT figure out what else it could be.
after about 5 minutes of watching him struggle you got fed up and decided to MAKE him listen to you. so you leaned your head down. and but his thigh. surprised at first, bamboozled even. but once he realised what had happened he started giggling soon followed by you. after recovering from the laughing fit, he did not miss a single beat and started singing in that voice he uses to annoy sungho.
"its you and me in this world 내게로 다시 와 tie me"
"seriously? thats you first response?!?!"
"날 구원할 거라면 just come kiss me and bite me"
"sure but say 'yacht' first"
"HEY"
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taesan:
bites back.
thats it
thats the headcanon
jk but fr
i cant find it now but theres a video of taesan biting jaehyun and bro just nommed in jaehyuns arm
which is why im 100% sure he would bite back
honestly wouldnt even be phased
its probably your love language as a couple
you and taesan were at the studio, taesan was working on some new songs while you sat nearby doing some assignments. eventually the words you were typing started floating around the screen and you didnt even know what you were typing so you decided it was a good time to take a break. but if youre taking a break then taesan should also be taking a break because 1. he was probably tired too and 2. how dare he work while youre taking a break instead of giving you attention. so you decided to give him a few minutes so that he wouldnt lose his train of though. plus he looks so cute when hes focused so...
HOWEVER a few minutes turned into 10 minutes. 10 minutes turned into 20. and eventually half an hour passed. you realised taesan wasnt about to take a break any time soon, so you decided to take matters into your own hands. you slowly crept up behind him and attacked. bro did not move. just looked at you smiled and pulled you into his lap. you may not have gotten a reaction but hey, now you get attention from your boyfriend. with no consequences... right? err❌ wrong.
"whats up?"
"you should take a break youve been working for so long. nonstop"
"okay"
"youre just going to listen? that easily?"
"hmm?" *bites you*
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leehan:
menace pt2
takes it as an opportunity to flirt
teases you to no end
i keep thinking about that boynextdoor 2night video where while spinning bottle the jaehyun told him he was doing it the wrong way
and he was like ill do it how i want
so like
think abt that
you and leehan were watching a kdrama while cuddling. initially both of you were very invested and you kept fangirling over the male lead (me every time i watch unlock my boss) and leehan would laugh and jokingly complain about it. after about two more episodes you noticed that leehan hadnt said anthing in a while so you looked towards him and saw that he had dozed off. but this was unacceptable how could he leave you to watch people try to kill each other on your own. no absolutely not. this was not allowed. how dare he. you first tried slightly shaking him awake, it woke him up but he just mumbled something unintelligible and closed his eyes again. time for plan b. biting him.
it worked. quite well. too well.
"why???"
"why what?"
"baby i know i taste good but if youre hungry the gummies might serve you better"
"you left me alone to watch mr.oh be mean to my husband 😔"
"hey its ok i didnt hear anything he said about me~"
"oh god you know what go back to sleep"
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theygotlost · 11 months ago
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vetinari is such a fascinating character to me because you cannot simply call him evil. he has all the aesthetic trappings of the Evil Ruler: a self-proclaimed tyrant, serious black robes, a devilish goatee, the tendency to raise an eyebrow or steeple his fingers in a grim manner, the torture chambers and dungeons in his palace, his wretched little pet that he loves so much, everyone is deathly afraid to cross him for fear of the Consequences, so on and so forth...
but he's not "EVIL". he doesn't take delight in senseless violence or act cruel for cruelty's sake. he's not ambitious or hungry for power. he's never a true antagonist, and is often working on the same side as the protagonists (or it might be more accurate to describe his role as a secret third thing). he's really not an unreasonable man on the whole. if vetinari is one thing, he's a pragmatist.
he considers idealism a waste of time because he knows his subjects too well for that. he can easily understand a cruel and villainous attitude, which is not the same thing as agreeing with it: with every new development in technology or society he immediately asks, "how are people going to exploit this? how could it be used dangerously?" not because he plans on doing it himself, but because it pays to know how somebody else will. ankh-morporkians agree: love him or hate him, vetinari's system works because it meets people where they're at.
this started as a post just about vetinari but then it got me thinking.... vetinari's method is not the only successful form of leadership we see. carrot is a natural born (ahem) leader whose outlook is the polar opposite from vetinari's; he operates on the assumption that everyone has good intentions and are fundamentally good people. and because he believes it so strongly and earnestly, people can't help but believe that it must be true, hence a self-fullfilling prophecy. which is great! the world would benefit immensely from more carrots!
buuut..... you can't really run a government that way, can you? you can't just say "let's all pinky promise to be chill and act super niceys from now on ok? 🙂" as a legally binding contract for millions of people. you need something to fall back on when that contract is inevitably violated. carrot can't imagine that anyone would ever do that, but vetinari knows they will, and accounts for every possible contingency. I think what pratchett is telling us, in a nutshell, is to plan for the worst and hope for the best.
the relationship between vetinari and carrot is one I don't see discussed much (admittedly since it's not very substantial), but it's interesting to think about. in his interactions with carrot vetinari is usually bemused at best and impatient at worst, but we know he's plenty smart enough to recognize carrot's value and what he's capable of.
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duck-a-doodle · 4 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.
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tender-rosiey · 2 years ago
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swear on love — gojo satoru x f!reader
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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)
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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.”
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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
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copyright © tender-rosiey
do not copy or plagiarize or I will domain expansion yo ass
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hees-mine · 6 months ago
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DESTROYED - L. HEESEUNG
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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.
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unproduciblesmackdown · 6 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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feeder86 · 8 months ago
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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!”
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noveauskull · 7 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)
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"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! 👐👐
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tinygrove · 2 months ago
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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.
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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.
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luveline · 1 year 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?” 
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nahoney22 · 8 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 😂
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Accidental Sleeping Arrangements
All Bad Batch Boys X GN!Reader
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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
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w1w2 · 16 days ago
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When the First Snow Falls
Winter x Fem!Reader
Word Count: ca. 7k
Synopsis: In the heart of winter, Y/N finds herself haunted by memories of Minjeong, the love she lost to her own neglect. When a chance encounter at a Christmas market rekindles their connection, Y/N must confront her past mistakes and prove she’s changed.
EXO– 첫 눈 "1년 전으로 갈 수 있다면 지금 우린 달라졌을까"
English isn’t my first language so I apologize in advance for any mistakes.
♡ Enjoy! ♡
Y/N stood by the large, frost-kissed window of her apartment, the warmth of the room a stark contrast to the wintry chill outside. Snowflakes, delicate and intricate, fell from the sky, blanketing the city in a soft white layer. The sight was mesmerizing, yet it filled her with an ache she couldn’t shake. It was the first snow of the season—just like that night a year ago.
The city below was alive with holiday cheer. Strings of twinkling lights adorned every lamppost, and garlands wrapped tightly around railings and storefronts. Families hurried along the streets, their laughter and chatter carried upward by the crisp winter air. Y/N’s gaze fell on a child tugging a small sled behind her, her scarf flapping as she ran to keep up with her parents. The joy in the air seemed to mock the quiet solitude of her apartment, the silence so heavy it felt alive.
Y/N sipped from a steaming mug of hot cocoa, its sweetness unable to soothe the bitterness of her thoughts. 
Kim Minjeong.
Even thinking the name was enough to make her chest tighten. She turned away from the window and set the mug down on the counter, her fingers lingering on its warmth. The snow had stirred a flood of memories—moments she both cherished and dreaded. She wished she could savor them without the accompanying sting of regret.
Her reflection in the glass caught her eye, and she frowned at the image of herself. The soft, heart-shaped face she was known for felt foreign in moments like this. It was hard to reconcile the bubbly, outgoing girl the world loved with the person staring back at her—a person weighed down by guilt and longing. Her hair, dyed a warm shade of brown for the season, framed her face in soft waves, but even its vibrance seemed muted in the pale light of the snow.
Minjeong had loved her hair. She remembered how Minjeong’s small hands would absentmindedly play with it, weaving little braids or simply running her fingers through it. 
Stop. 
Y/N shut her eyes tightly, willing herself to push the memory away. But it lingered, stubborn and vivid. Memories had a way of finding her on days like this, unbidden and relentless.
She couldn’t deny the truth anymore—she had taken Minjeong for granted. Her relentless schedule, the whirlwind of her rising career, had consumed her. She’d always thought there’d be time, always assumed Minjeong’s love would be steadfast, unshaken by her absence. But love wasn’t invincible. Minjeong had tried to tell her, to show her through the quiet sadness in her eyes and the spaces between their conversations. Y/N just hadn’t been listening.
The thought of that final night sent a shiver through her. She’d replayed it countless times in her head, wishing for a different ending, one where she hadn’t let her pride or fear stop her from reaching out. But regret didn’t rewrite history—it only lingered, feeding on her solitude.
Her gaze drifted back to the window. Snowflakes danced in the golden glow of the streetlights, their patterns chaotic yet beautiful. The world was transformed, each imperfection hidden beneath a pristine blanket. It reminded her of how things had been with Minjeong at the start—perfect, or at least it had felt that way. She’d been so sure of their forever.
Y/N reached for her phone on the counter. Her fingers hovered over the screen, tempted to type out a message she’d drafted and deleted too many times to count. What could she say now, after all this time? “I’m sorry”? It felt inadequate. “I miss you”? True, but also painfully obvious. She set the phone down with a sigh, her chest tightening with frustration.
The truth was, she wasn’t sure Minjeong would even want to hear from her. After everything, could she blame her if she didn’t? Y/N had hurt her, unintentionally but deeply, and she didn’t know if words could ever mend what she’d broken. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to ward off the chill that seeped into her thoughts despite the heat of the room.
Outside, the snow continued to fall, piling on windowsills and frosting tree branches. It had a strange way of making everything feel still and silent, even in the bustling city. Y/N let herself be still for a moment, her thoughts slowing as she watched the snow. Somewhere out there, Minjeong was seeing this same snowfall, perhaps feeling the same chill, or maybe she was wrapped in someone else’s warmth now. The thought twisted like a knife in Y/N’s chest, but she forced herself to face it.
She didn’t know what tomorrow would bring or if she’d ever find the courage to send that message, to say what her heart had been screaming for the past year. But for now, she stayed by the window, letting the snow and the memories wash over her. It was painful, but it was hers—every regret, every smile, every laugh that echoed in her mind.
Winter had always been her favorite season. Now, it was a reminder of what she’d lost. But maybe, just maybe, it could also be a reminder of what she still had the power to reclaim.
She drew a shaky breath, her fingers brushing the frost-laced windowpane. The snow outside blurred as her thoughts drifted deeper into the past. No matter how much she tried to live in the present, this season always carried her back to those moments—the ones she could replay vividly, down to the smallest details.
Her gaze unfocused, the bustling cityscape faded, replaced by another time, another place. She could almost hear the laughter and music, see the twinkling lights reflected in Minjeong’s eyes.
It had all begun one December evening, at a small community hall that smelled of cinnamon and fresh pine…
Flashback
The lively hum of chatter and laughter filled the community hall, its walls adorned with festive garlands and twinkling lights. The annual Christmas charity event was in full swing, and Y/N was there as part of her agency’s outreach initiative. She adjusted her red Santa hat, a playful accessory that matched her outfit, as she carried a tray of cookies to the refreshment table.
“Careful, or the cookies might outshine your smile,” a voice chimed from behind her. Y/N turned, catching sight of Minjeong. Petite, radiant, and sporting a mischievous grin, Minjeong was dressed in a cozy green sweater adorned with tiny reindeer patterns. Her cheeks were pink from the cold, and her sparkling eyes danced with mischief.
Y/N raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at her lips. “Is that your way of asking for one? You could’ve just said please.”
Minjeong’s grin widened. “I could’ve, but where’s the fun in that?”
Their banter was lighthearted, the kind that flowed naturally, as though they’d known each other far longer than the few minutes they’d exchanged pleasantries. As the event progressed, they found themselves gravitating toward each other. Between serving refreshments and wrapping gifts for children, they discovered shared interests—love for music, a penchant for adventure, and a mutual appreciation for the joy the season brought.
The highlight of the evening came when Minjeong took to the small stage to sing Christmas carols. Her voice, clear and melodic, captivated the room. Y/N found herself mesmerized, her heart skipping as Minjeong’s gaze briefly found hers mid-song. When the song ended and the applause erupted, Minjeong hopped off the stage and returned to Y/N’s side.
“Well?” Minjeong asked, her tone teasing. “Do I pass your very high standards?”
Y/N chuckled, her cheeks warm. “You’re decent. Maybe a solid eight out of ten.”
“Eight?” Minjeong feigned indignation. “I’ll have to work harder to impress you.”
“You’re welcome to try,” Y/N quipped, already wondering when she’d see Minjeong again.
The next few weeks became a whirlwind of shared moments. Their first official “date” happened almost by accident, a spontaneous decision to grab hot chocolate after running into each other at the skating rink. They laughed over their inability to stay upright on the ice, Minjeong’s soft laughter ringing in Y/N’s ears long after the night ended.
From there, their relationship blossomed like the lights decorating the city. They built snowmen in the park, hands brushing as they sculpted the frosty figures. They explored Christmas markets, their fingers laced together as they navigated stalls selling everything from handmade ornaments to steaming cups of mulled cider. On quiet nights, Minjeong would hum Christmas carols, her voice a soothing balm as they curled up on Y/N’s couch, a tangle of blankets and limbs.
Y/N couldn’t pinpoint when she fell for Minjeong—perhaps it was gradual, like the way snow blankets the earth overnight, unnoticed until morning. All she knew was that Minjeong made everything brighter, warmer. Being with her felt like stepping into sunlight after days of gray skies.
Two years into their relationship, the festive magic they had shared began to fade, not from a lack of love but from the strain of Y/N’s growing career. Her schedule became relentless, each day packed with rehearsals, interviews, and appearances. At first, Minjeong was understanding, her optimism unwavering. She would wait patiently for Y/N to come home late, greeting her with a tired smile and warm embrace.
“I know you’re doing this for your dreams,” Minjeong would say, her voice soft yet reassuring. “I’m proud of you.”
But the cracks began to show. Y/N missed small but significant moments—a dinner date they’d planned for weeks, a family gathering where Minjeong had wanted Y/N to meet her cousins. Minjeong never voiced her disappointment directly, but Y/N could see it in her eyes, the way her smiles began to lose their spark.
One evening, as they sat on the couch in silence, Y/N scrolling through her phone while Minjeong watched the twinkling lights of the city, Minjeong finally spoke.
“Do you ever feel like we’re drifting apart?” Minjeong’s voice was soft, almost hesitant.
Y/N looked up, startled by the question. “What? No. Of course not. Why would you think that?”
Minjeong’s fingers traced the edge of her mug, her gaze fixed downward. “I just… I don’t know. Sometimes it feels like I’m not part of your world anymore. Like I’m an afterthought.”
The words hit Y/N like a punch, but she didn’t know how to respond. She opened her mouth, then closed it, fumbling for the right thing to say. Minjeong didn’t press further, but the weight of her words lingered between them.
The cracks widened as December approached. Y/N missed yet another date, this time at a winter festival they had been looking forward to. Minjeong had waited, bundled up against the cold, her breath visible in the frosty air, until the lights dimmed and the crowds dispersed. When Y/N finally called, hours later, Minjeong answered with a calmness that only deepened Y/N’s guilt.
“I know you’re busy,” Minjeong said, her voice devoid of accusation. “But I don’t know how much longer I can keep waiting.”
It was the first time Minjeong had given voice to the hurt that had been building for months. Y/N apologized, promising to do better, to make it up to her. But promises alone couldn’t mend the growing distance between them.
End of the Flashback
Y/N blinked back tears as she sat on the edge of her bed, the weight of the memories pressing heavily on her chest. She could still see Minjeong’s face that night, illuminated by the glow of the Christmas lights, her eyes filled with a mixture of love and sadness.
“I should have tried harder,” Y/N whispered to herself, her voice breaking. But words spoken into the emptiness of her apartment couldn’t change the past.
The weight of those memories pressed against her chest like a vice. Y/N leaned her forehead against the cool glass, her breath fogging the window as she exhaled. No matter how much time had passed, the ache hadn’t faded; it had simply settled, becoming a part of her. And at the heart of it all was that night—a night she couldn’t forget, no matter how much she tried.
Christmas Eve. The falling snow had been just as gentle, just as beautiful, but it hadn’t brought peace. Instead, it marked the moment everything unraveled.
Flashback
Christmas Eve arrived with a quiet kind of beauty. Snow drifted lazily from the sky, blanketing the streets in white and muffling the sounds of the city. Y/N had promised Minjeong they’d spend the evening together—just the two of them. For once, there were no excuses, no distractions, no last-minute cancellations.
She’d arrived late, but Minjeong had greeted her at the door with a soft smile and a tired look in her eyes. They’d exchanged pleasantries, but the warmth between them felt strained, like a thread pulled too tightly.
The apartment smelled of pine and cinnamon, and the Christmas tree in the corner glowed softly with twinkling lights. Beneath it sat a handful of neatly wrapped presents, the fruits of Minjeong’s careful planning. Y/N hadn’t even had the chance to wrap hers yet. She told herself she’d do it after dinner.
They sat on the couch, mugs of hot cocoa in hand, the space between them feeling wider than ever. Minjeong broke the silence first.
“Y/N,” she began, her voice steady but quiet, “can I ask you something?”
Y/N turned to her, startled by the serious tone. “Of course. What’s wrong?”
Minjeong hesitated, her gaze fixed on the steam rising from her mug. She seemed to be gathering her thoughts, weighing every word before speaking.
“Are you happy?” she asked finally, her voice barely above a whisper.
The question caught Y/N off guard. “What? Of course I’m happy. Why would you even ask that?”
Minjeong’s lips curved into a small, sad smile. “You say that, but sometimes… it feels like I’m not part of that happiness. Like you’re happy everywhere else—in your work, with your friends—but not here. Not with me.”
The words hit Y/N like a punch to the gut. “Minjeong, that’s not true. I—” She faltered, struggling to find the right words.
Minjeong shook her head gently, her expression unreadable. “You don’t have to say anything. I just… I need to say this.”
Setting her mug down on the table, she turned fully to face Y/N. The glow of the tree lights reflected in her eyes, making them shine even as her voice trembled. “I’ve been trying to hold on. For a long time, I told myself it was enough—your little notes, the times you made it to dinner, the way you always made me laugh when we were together. But Y/N… I feel like I’m always waiting for you.”
Y/N stared at her, words caught in her throat.
“I’m not blaming you,” Minjeong continued, her voice soft but firm. “I know how much you’ve worked for your dreams, and I’m proud of you. I’ve always been proud of you. But I’ve spent so much time trying to fit into your world that I don’t even know where I belong anymore. And that scares me.”
The pain in her voice was undeniable, and Y/N’s heart ached at the sight of Minjeong’s composure beginning to crack.
“I never meant to make you feel like that,” Y/N said finally, her voice barely audible. “I love you, Minjeong. I really do.”
Minjeong gave a sad smile, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I know you do. But sometimes love isn’t enough if it doesn’t feel like it’s being shown.”
The silence that followed was deafening. Y/N wanted to say more, to beg Minjeong to stay, to promise she’d do better. But the words wouldn’t come.
Minjeong stood, her movements slow and deliberate, as if giving Y/N a chance to stop her. But Y/N remained frozen, paralyzed by her own fear and uncertainty.
“I think I need some time,” Minjeong said softly, picking up her coat from the back of the chair. “To figure out who I am without waiting for someone else.”
She hesitated at the door, her hand resting on the handle. For a moment, Y/N thought she might turn around, might say something to undo the finality of her words. But Minjeong only looked back, her eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and love.
“Merry Christmas, Y/N,” she said, her voice breaking slightly.
And then she was gone, the door closing behind her with a soft click.
Y/N sat in the stillness, the twinkling lights of the tree casting faint shadows around the room. The mug of cocoa sat untouched on the table, its steam long since vanished.
She pressed her hands to her face, the reality of the moment crashing down on her like the snow outside. Minjeong was gone, and Y/N had no one to blame but herself.
End of the Flashback
The first snow of the season had been falling that night, too, soft and unrelenting. Just like now.
Y/N’s eyes lingered on the snow swirling outside her window, each flake catching the streetlights like tiny stars. A year had passed, yet the pain felt as fresh as the chill in the air. She closed her eyes, willing herself to move, to do something other than sit in the stillness of her apartment.
Moments later, she found herself bundling up in her coat and scarf, her boots crunching against the icy pavement as she stepped outside. The cold bit at her cheeks, but she welcomed it—it was better than the suffocating warmth of her solitude.
The park wasn’t far, and as she walked, memories tugged at her with every step. The snow fell heavier now, the quiet of the night broken only by the faint hum of the nearby Christmas market. When she reached the park, it was as if no time had passed at all.
Her gaze drifted to a familiar bench, the one tucked under a towering oak tree now dusted with snow. It was here, beneath these same branches, that Minjeong had kissed her for the first time. Snowflakes had clung to Minjeong’s lashes that day, and she’d laughed when Y/N had gently brushed them away.
The memory was both beautiful and painful, a bittersweet ache in her chest. Y/N paused by the bench, her gloved fingers brushing the backrest as if it might still hold some trace of that moment. But the cold, empty wood only deepened her sense of loss.
A year.
It had been an entire year since Minjeong had walked out of her apartment, leaving behind a silence that no amount of holiday cheer could fill. Y/N had tried to move forward, but her steps always seemed to circle back to the same memories, the same regrets.
She lowered herself onto the bench, brushing away the snow before sitting. From her coat pocket, she pulled out a small notebook, its edges worn from weeks of being carried around. Flipping to the last page, she reread the letter she had written—her thousandth attempt, it felt like—to Minjeong.
Minjeong,
I don’t even know where to begin. For the past year, I’ve been haunted by the things I didn’t say, the moments I let slip through my fingers. You always said I had a way with words, but now, when they matter most, I feel like I have none that are worthy of you.
I took you for granted, Minjeong. I see that so clearly now. I thought love alone would be enough, that you would understand my silences and forgive my absences because my heart was still yours. But love is more than feelings. It’s actions, presence, and choices—and I failed you in all of those ways.
Every memory we shared is etched into my mind like the first snow on pavement. I can still hear your laughter at the Christmas market, feel the warmth of your hand in mine on those freezing nights, and see the way your eyes lit up when you sang. You were my light, my safe place, and yet I dimmed you with my neglect.
I remember that night—Christmas Eve. I remember the look in your eyes when you told me you felt like you were always waiting for me. I should have stopped you, begged you to stay, promised to do better. But I was a coward, Minjeong. I let my fear of failure keep me from holding on to the best thing that ever happened to me. And for that, I am so deeply sorry.
The truth is, you were never an afterthought to me. You were my first thought in the morning and my last before I fell asleep. I just didn’t know how to show it. I got so caught up chasing my dreams that I forgot to nurture the one dream that mattered most—you and me.
I’ve spent the past year trying to understand myself and the ways I failed you. I don’t blame you for leaving, and I don’t expect you to forgive me. But if there’s even the smallest chance to try again, I promise to be better—to show you every single day how much you mean to me.
You are the love of my life, Minjeong. You always have been, and you always will be.
Forever yours,
Y/N
Y/N traced the words with her gloved finger, her heart aching with the weight of her feelings. She had written the letter weeks ago but couldn’t bring herself to send it. The fear of rejection held her back, a barrier she couldn’t seem to cross.
Folding the notebook closed, she slipped it back into her pocket and rose from the bench. The park’s stillness felt too heavy, pressing down on her chest, and she needed to move. She headed toward the Christmas market, hoping the bustling energy might distract her, even just for a little while.
Y/N’s boots crunched softly in the snow as she wandered through the Christmas market, the glow of fairy lights wrapping the stalls in warmth. The air was rich with the smell of roasted chestnuts and spiced cider, but it did little to settle the growing unease in her chest. Everywhere she looked, there were reminders of Minjeong—bright ornaments they used to pick out together, couples laughing over steaming cups of cocoa, and even a stall selling reindeer figurines like the one Minjeong had loved so much.
And then she saw her.
At first, Y/N thought she was imagining it. Her breath hitched, her feet faltering as her eyes locked onto the figure standing by a stall of painted figurines. Minjeong. She was unmistakable, her blonde hair tucked into a knitted beanie, her long camel coat dusted with snow. She stood with a small reindeer figurine in her hands, tilting her head slightly as if trying to decide whether to buy it.
Y/N’s pulse thundered in her ears, drowning out the noise of the market. She hadn’t seen Minjeong in a year, not since that night. She hadn’t planned to see her now, but there she was, so close and yet so distant. For a brief moment, Y/N considered slipping away, retreating before Minjeong noticed her. But then Minjeong turned, her gaze sweeping the crowd—and froze when their eyes met.
Minjeong blinked, her expression guarded, the hint of a smile faltering as recognition dawned. Her fingers tightened around the figurine she was holding, and she took a small step back, as if trying to decide whether to stay or leave.
“Minjeong,” Y/N said, her voice barely audible above the market’s hum.
Minjeong didn’t answer right away. Her lips parted, but the words seemed caught somewhere between her thoughts and her tongue. When she finally spoke, her tone was measured, almost cautious. “Y/N… hi.”
The air between them was heavy, a mixture of surprise, unease, and something unspoken. Y/N took a tentative step closer, her hands stuffed deep in her coat pockets to steady their trembling. “I… I didn’t expect to see you here.”
Minjeong’s smile was polite but distant. “It’s a small city,” she said simply. Her gaze flickered briefly to the stall, then back to Y/N. “Are you… here alone?”
Y/N nodded, swallowing hard. “Yeah. Just taking a walk, I guess. What about you?”
“Same,” Minjeong said, her voice softer now. She held up the figurine, the small reindeer painted in bright reds and greens. “I always liked coming here this time of year. It feels… familiar.”
Y/N’s heart clenched. She wanted to say something, anything to bridge the growing tension between them, but the words wouldn’t come. All she could think about was how different Minjeong seemed—still warm and kind, but guarded, as though she were holding herself together with careful precision.
There was a beat of silence before Y/N spoke again, her voice tentative. “Minjeong… I know this is unexpected, but… would you have time to talk? Just for a little while?”
Minjeong hesitated, her fingers tracing the edge of the figurine. Her gaze lingered on Y/N’s face, searching for something—sincerity, maybe, or a reason to walk away. Finally, she let out a small sigh, her shoulders softening slightly.
“Okay,” she said quietly, placing the figurine back on the stall’s table. “But just for a little while.”
Y/N’s breath caught, relief flooding her chest as she nodded quickly. “There’s a café nearby,” she said. “It’s quiet. We can talk there.”
Minjeong hesitated for another moment, then nodded, her expression unreadable. She paid for the figurine, tucking it carefully into her bag before turning back to Y/N. “Lead the way.”
As they walked side by side through the snow-dusted streets, the tension between them was palpable. Y/N’s mind raced with everything she wanted to say, but she kept silent, stealing glances at Minjeong. Minjeong, for her part, seemed lost in thought, her steps slow and deliberate.
When they reached the café, Y/N held the door open, and Minjeong stepped inside, pausing to glance at her briefly. There was something in her eyes—hesitation mixed with a flicker of the warmth Y/N remembered so well. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to keep hope alive.
They were greeted by a cheerful barista who directed them to a cozy corner table near the window. Outside, snow continued to fall, muffling the sounds of the bustling Christmas market.
Y/N ordered two hot cocoas, her hands trembling slightly as she handed her card to the cashier. She wasn’t sure if it was the cold or the nervous energy coursing through her. As they waited for their drinks, Minjeong removed her coat and settled into the chair opposite Y/N, her expression calm but guarded.
“So,” Minjeong began, her fingers tracing the rim of the small ceramic sugar bowl on the table. “What did you want to talk about?”
Y/N took a deep breath, her chest tightening. The moment felt fragile, as if one wrong word might shatter the delicate balance between them.
“First, I just… I want to say I’m sorry,” Y/N said, her voice barely above a whisper. “For everything. For not being there for you the way I should have been. For making you feel like you weren’t important. I’ve thought about that night every single day since it happened, and I hate that I let you walk away.”
Minjeong’s gaze was steady, but she didn’t interrupt.
Y/N hesitated, her fingers curling around the edge of the table. “I know I can’t undo what I did, but I want you to know how much you meant to me—how much you still mean to me. I was so caught up in everything else that I didn’t see what was right in front of me. And by the time I realized, it was too late.”
The barista arrived with their hot cocoas, breaking the tension momentarily. Y/N murmured a quiet thank you, her hands wrapping around the warm mug for comfort.
Minjeong stirred her drink slowly, her spoon clinking softly against the ceramic. “You really hurt me, Y/N,” she said finally, her voice soft but firm.
Y/N’s heart sank, guilt washing over her like a tide. “I know,” she said. “And I hate myself for it.”
Minjeong’s expression softened slightly, though her eyes still held a trace of sadness. “I’ve spent the past year trying to understand what went wrong. At first, I blamed myself—maybe I wasn’t enough, maybe I should have tried harder. But the truth is, I forgot to prioritize myself. I spent so much time waiting for you that I lost sight of my own needs.”
Y/N swallowed hard, the weight of Minjeong’s words settling heavily in her chest. “I don’t expect you to forgive me,” she said. “But I want you to know that I’ve been working on myself, too. I’ve realized how much I took for granted, and I don’t ever want to make that mistake again. Not with you, not with anyone.”
Minjeong looked out the window, her gaze following the falling snow. For a moment, Y/N thought she might brush her off, politely decline any possibility of reconciliation. But then Minjeong turned back, a faint smile tugging at her lips.
“You know,” Minjeong said, her tone lighter, “you were pretty terrible at time management.”
Y/N blinked, caught off guard by the comment. “That’s… fair,” she admitted, a small, nervous laugh escaping her.
Minjeong’s smile grew, and for the first time, the tension between them began to ease. “Do you remember that time you promised to meet me at the ice rink and showed up almost an hour late?”
Y/N groaned, covering her face with her hands. “Don’t remind me. I was so sure you were going to throw your skates at me.”
Minjeong chuckled, the sound warm and familiar. “I thought about it. But then you bought me hot chocolate and let me laugh at how terrible you were at skating. It was hard to stay mad after that.”
They both laughed, the sound filling the small corner of the café and pushing back the weight of unspoken pain.
As the conversation drifted to happier memories—snowball fights, late-night karaoke, and stolen kisses under the city lights—Y/N felt a warmth spread through her chest that had nothing to do with the cocoa.
“I missed this,” Y/N said softly, her eyes meeting Minjeong’s. “I missed you.”
Minjeong’s smile faltered for a moment, her expression growing thoughtful. “I missed you too,” she admitted. “But missing someone doesn’t erase the hurt.”
Y/N nodded, her throat tightening. “I know. I just… I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make it right. If there’s even the smallest chance—”
Minjeong held up a hand, her gesture gentle but firm, stopping Y/N mid-sentence. “Let’s not rush anything,” she said softly. “I need to think about this—about us. But… I’m glad we talked.”
Y/N’s heart both soared and ached at her words. It wasn’t the immediate reconciliation she had secretly hoped for, but it wasn’t a rejection either. It was something—a fragile thread of possibility, a glimmer of hope.
As they finished their drinks and prepared to leave, Minjeong glanced at Y/N, her expression thoughtful. “You’ve changed,” she said quietly. “I can see that. And I’m glad. Just… give me time, okay?”
Y/N nodded, her voice catching slightly as she replied, “Sure. Take all the time you need.”
The café door jingled softly as they stepped out into the crisp evening air. The warmth of their conversation lingered between them, like a fragile cocoon shielding them from the bustling noise of the nearby Christmas market. The faint scent of roasted chestnuts and pine drifted toward them, but neither spoke, both lost in their own thoughts.
As they walked side by side, Y/N tilted her head back, noticing the way the streetlights illuminated the delicate flakes of snow. The sight stole her breath for a moment, and she murmured, “It’s snowing again.”
Minjeong stopped, lifting her gaze to the sky. A small smile formed on her lips as a flake landed on her cheek. “It is,” she said softly, her voice tinged with quiet wonder.
For a moment, they simply stood there, the snow drifting down around them, their breaths forming soft clouds in the chilled air. The world seemed to pause, leaving only the two of them in the golden glow of the streetlights. It felt surreal—like stepping back into a memory when things between them had been so easy, so effortless.
Y/N’s gaze fell on Minjeong, her heart clenching at the sight. Minjeong looked serene, the snow catching in her hair and on her lashes, the tension from earlier melting away. It reminded Y/N of the countless times she’d seen her like this, moments she had taken for granted. She wished she could freeze this one, hold it forever.
A sudden breeze swept through the street, and Minjeong instinctively reached out. Her gloved hand brushed against Y/N’s, and without hesitation, her fingers curled around Y/N’s, the gesture as natural and familiar as breathing.
Y/N’s breath hitched, her heart pounding in her chest. The warmth of Minjeong’s hand felt like a lifeline, pulling her back to a place she thought she’d lost forever. She tightened her grip slightly, as if afraid this fragile moment might slip away.
“Minjeong,” Y/N began, her voice soft but steady. She turned to face her fully, searching her eyes for any hint of what she might be feeling. “Do you… do you think we can start over?”
Minjeong blinked, her expression unreadable at first. Her fingers remained intertwined with Y/N’s, but she didn’t speak right away. The silence stretched between them, broken only by the gentle sound of snow falling around them.
Y/N felt her chest tighten, the weight of uncertainty pressing heavily on her. She was about to say something more, to explain, to plead, when Minjeong’s lips curved into a faint smile.
“You really don’t give up, do you?” Minjeong said, her tone light, laced with both amusement and something softer—something hopeful.
Y/N’s cheeks flushed, a nervous laugh escaping her. “Not when it comes to you,” she said honestly.
Minjeong’s gaze softened, and for the first time that night, the walls around her seemed to lower. “I don’t know if it’s that simple,” she admitted, her voice quieter now. “There’s a lot to figure out. A lot to rebuild.”
“I know,” Y/N said quickly, her grip on Minjeong’s hand firm but gentle. “I don’t expect it to happen overnight. I just… I want the chance to try. To show you that I’ve changed. That I can be better.”
Minjeong studied her for a long moment, her eyes holding a quiet intensity as the snowflakes fell around them. Finally, she nodded, her smile growing just a little. “Okay,” she said softly.
Y/N blinked, caught completely off guard by the response. “Wait… really?” she asked, her voice tinged with disbelief.
Minjeong’s lips curved into an amused smile. “Don’t make me change my mind,” she teased lightly, though her tone carried warmth.
A laugh bubbled up in Y/N’s throat, a mixture of surprise and overwhelming relief. “I—I wasn’t expecting you to say yes so soon,” she admitted, her cheeks flushing.
Minjeong chuckled softly, her fingers still curled around Y/N’s. “Well, don’t get too ahead of yourself,” she said with a playful glint in her eyes. “It’s a tentative yes. We’ve got a lot to figure out.”
“I know,” Y/N said quickly, her voice steadier now. “But just hearing you say it… it means more than I can put into words.”
Minjeong’s expression softened, and she gave Y/N’s hand a small squeeze. “Then let’s start there.”
As they continued walking, still hand in hand, the snow fell heavier, blanketing the world around them in a clean, fresh start. For the first time in a year, Y/N felt like she could truly breathe again.
The evening unfolded like a dream. As the snow thickened and the market’s lights twinkled, Minjeong turned to Y/N with a thoughtful look. “Do you have plans for tonight?”
Y/N shook her head, her eyes bright with curiosity. “Not really.”
“Then…” Minjeong hesitated for only a moment before offering a small smile. “Would you like to come over? We can—well, I don’t know. Just spend Christmas Eve together?”
Y/N’s face lit up, her chest tight with gratitude and relief. “I’d love to,” she said softly.
Back at Minjeong’s apartment, the air was filled with the familiar scent of cinnamon and pine. The small space was cozy, adorned with fairy lights and a modest tree sitting in the corner, its decorations simple but warm. Y/N felt a pang of nostalgia as she took it all in, the setting so reminiscent of their past Christmases together.
“Help me with the tree?” Minjeong asked, holding up a box of ornaments.
Y/N nodded eagerly, her smile wide. “Of course.”
They fell into an easy rhythm, hanging ornaments and teasing each other about their differing tastes in decorations. Minjeong laughed when Y/N insisted on placing the slightly crooked star on top, calling it “quirky charm.”
Later, they moved to the kitchen, where Minjeong unearthed an old recipe for sugar cookies. The two of them worked side by side, the counters quickly becoming a mess of flour and frosting. Minjeong smeared a dollop of frosting on Y/N’s cheek, laughing at her exaggerated look of indignation before Y/N retaliated with a sprinkle shower.
After the cookies were baked, Y/N reached into her coat pocket, pulling out the letter she had carried with her for weeks. She hesitated for a moment, her heart racing, before offering it to Minjeong.
“I wrote this for you,” Y/N said softly, her voice trembling. “I didn’t know if I’d ever have the courage to give it to you, but… I want you to have it now.”
Minjeong unfolded the letter, her fingers trembling slightly as she smoothed the paper. Her eyes scanned the opening line, and a quiet sigh escaped her lips. Y/N’s handwriting hadn’t changed—slightly messy but earnest, the ink pressed deeply into the paper as if to anchor the words in place.
As she read, emotions washed over her in waves. The guilt, the sorrow, the yearning—they were all there, raw and unfiltered. Minjeong’s chest tightened when she reached the part about Christmas Eve, her mind instantly flashing back to that night. She had replayed it in her head countless times too, though she’d never admitted it to anyone. Hearing Y/N recount it now—acknowledging every hurtful moment—both soothed and reopened wounds she thought had healed.
Her fingers traced the words "you were my light," lingering as her breath caught in her throat. Y/N had never been good at voicing her feelings, and yet, here they were, laid bare in a way Minjeong had always longed for. Was this enough? Could this letter bridge the gap between them?
By the time she finished, tears blurred the ink slightly as she refolded the paper. Minjeong pressed it to her chest, her heart warring between cautious hope and lingering hurt. It wasn’t just the words that moved her—it was the vulnerability behind them, the promise that maybe, just maybe, Y/N had changed.
She looked up at Y/N, who sat across from her, nervously twisting her hands. Minjeong’s lips parted to speak, but for a moment, no words came. Instead, she reached out, placing the letter gently on the table between them. Her voice was soft but steady.
“You really poured your heart into this,” she said, her tone layered with both gratitude and uncertainty.
“I meant every word,” Y/N replied, her gaze steady. “I wanted you to know how much you mean to me. How much I regret letting you slip away.”
Minjeong nodded, folding the letter back and clutching it to her chest. “Thank you,” she said quietly.
Later that night, they ventured out into the park, retracing steps they had taken so many times before. The snow was heavier now, blanketing the world in a hushed stillness. As they reached the oak tree where they had shared their first kiss, Y/N stopped, turning to face Minjeong.
“I know I’ve said this a lot tonight,” Y/N began, her voice trembling with emotion. “But I need to say it again.”
She dropped to her knees in the snow, looking up at Minjeong with wide, earnest eyes. “Minjeong, I promise I will never take you for granted again. I will do everything I can to be the person you deserve, if you’ll let me.”
Minjeong stared at her, the snow catching in her hair and lashes, before a surprised laugh burst from her lips. “Y/N, get up! You’re going to freeze.”
Y/N laughed, feeling a surge of relief as Minjeong reached down to pull her to her feet. The next thing she knew, she was wrapped in a tight hug, Minjeong’s arms warm and steady around her.
“I missed you too,” Minjeong whispered, her voice barely audible but so full of emotion it made Y/N’s chest ache.
The night ended with the two of them curled up together on Minjeong’s couch, a thick blanket draped over their legs. The glow of the fairy lights bathed the room in a soft warmth, their gentle twinkle matching the rhythmic rise and fall of Minjeong’s breathing. Outside, the snow continued to fall, coating the streets in a quiet serenity that seemed to insulate them from the rest of the world.
Y/N glanced down at Minjeong, who was nestled against her shoulder, her golden hair brushing lightly against Y/N’s cheek. Minjeong’s eyes were half-closed, her expression peaceful, her hand resting lightly on Y/N’s arm. It was a sight Y/N thought she’d never see again, and it filled her chest with a warmth that no amount of holiday cheer could match.
“Thank you,” Y/N said softly, breaking the comfortable silence.
Minjeong stirred slightly, tilting her head up to meet Y/N’s gaze. “For what?” she murmured, her voice heavy with drowsiness.
“For giving me another chance,” Y/N replied, her voice trembling just enough to betray the depth of her emotions. She reached up, brushing a stray strand of hair from Minjeong’s face with a tenderness that felt both familiar and achingly new.
Minjeong’s lips curved into a small, sleepy smile. “Merry Christmas, Y/N,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, but the words carried a weight that made Y/N’s heart swell.
“Merry Christmas,” Y/N replied, her voice steady but thick with emotion. For a moment, she hesitated, unsure if it was too much, too soon. But then, with a quiet breath, she leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to Minjeong’s forehead. Her lips lingered for just a moment, enough to feel Minjeong’s warmth beneath them.
Minjeong let out a soft hum of contentment, her eyes fluttering closed again as she leaned further into Y/N’s embrace. Y/N tightened her arm around her, as if to shield her from the world, her other hand finding Minjeong’s beneath the blanket. Their fingers intertwined naturally, the gesture grounding them both in the present.
The room was quiet, save for the faint crackle of the heater and the muffled sound of snowflakes brushing against the windowpane. Outside, the snow-covered streets glistened under the soft light of the moon, reflecting the hope that Y/N finally felt in her heart.
For the first time in a long while, she allowed herself to believe in the possibility of a future—one where they could rebuild, where every step would be taken together. And as she held Minjeong close, she silently vowed to never let her slip away again.
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