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bolbianddolanhouse · 2 years

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BNHA self insert AU [Book 4]

Not caught up? Why not?! Here’s som handy links 1 * 2 * 3

Chapter 7:...Yes, A Really Good Book

The twins are now seeing the reality that their whole family went through at UA, all the rigorous training but now with the added expectations to be like the rest of their family. It’s only been a month and they’re close to exploding emotionally.

-Saturday, Iida household-

“Gemelos, adone estan?” their mother coo’d for them “I cut some fresitas, come eat.”

A collective groan was made from the living room. The twins were face down on the carpet, unmoving and sore as hell.

“Come on, I’m not air lifting you guys” sighed their mother as she floated over to her children with the bowl of fruit “I know training is kicking your asses, this is why your dad and I trained you. Without it, you’d be dead tired.”

Tensei rolled onto his back “Ow! Mama, how the fuck did you survive doing both hero and intelligence training?!” He looked at his mother with curiosity “All the staff is expecting us to be on par with you. And I took a major L yesterday when doing the rope climb.”

“I set the rope on fire because sensei got me mad” Hanaka added, barely lifting her head.

“Ah my favorite” their mother said sarcastically as she folded her legs to sit next to her children “I was just built different. Had to fight my way through everything in my life before coming here. So this training shit was like a breeze in comparison.”

“Is America really that intense?” questioned the twins

Their mother sighed and nodded “I was raised in a very conservative time, anyone that wasn’t white or white passing was oppressed. But especially if you had more than one quirk!”

Tensei attempted to sit up properly “No way! What did you do to hide your quirks? Everyone in your family would’ve had to hide their too!”

“We just didn’t say our quirks publicly, my mom worked in places where they were safe to use both their quirks. My sister had to register herself as disabled because both of her quirks prevent her from getting a job or living an independent life” she described “My brother didn’t have much trouble hiding his and I struggled a bit.”

“Why mama?” asked Hanaka as she shakily tried to sit up and plopped back down.

“My telekinesis wasn’t stable and was borderline disabling” their mother said as she watched her children struggle to sit “If hero culture was a thing, I’d be sent to a specialized school to hone my quirk as a child or be encouraged to use both of them in public... But I was just another cog in the machine that the government was willing to cast away at the moment’s notice.”

“That��s so wack! How could you be okay with that life?!” protested Tensei, now sitting up “You always said you wanted to go back or that you wished you never left, how is that better?!”

“Oh my sweet bebe, it was so liberating to not be dependent on your quirk to live a normal life” she sighed as she floated a strawberry toward her son “I didn’t have to worry about a single thing, I had everything I needed and I only ever wanted to be loved and be comfortable. And when things went down, I fought to have my shred of normalcy back.”

“Thats all you wanted?” Hanaka questioned, still struggling “But what about meeting Papa? You’re so in love with him!”

Their mother sighed lovingly “Ay mi~ As much I love your father” she gently fed a strawberry to Tensei “I had a boyfriend that I was willing to marry before I came over here.”

Hanaka latina gasped and finally sat up properly, ignoring her pain “QUE?! I lover left behind?!”

“Si mi amor, I left behind who I thought was my one and only”

Tensei swallowed his bite of strawberry “So what happened to him?”

“I don’t know” their mother showed a pained expression “I lost track of him when I graduated from UA. I don’t know if he’s still alive or if he moved on to someone else. But I hope he’s doing okay and he’s happy with his new life...without me.”

“Aw mama I didn’t mean to make you sad” Hanaka comforted, she hates to see her mother so sad.

“No bebe, I’m not sad” their mother smiled through the pain “I just miss him, I literally planned my entire, short life with him. And he just swept me off my feet with the simplest things, plus it helped that he was so talented and sensitive. We didn’t need money to be happy, just each other.” She glanced over at the family picture on the wall “Not to mention that my parents LOVED my boyfriend and his family. They were really rooting for us to get married the moment we turned 18.”

“Abuelito and Abuelita love Papa no?” questioned Tensei, hoping he was right.

Their mother let out a sharp, singular laugh “Oh no bebe, your grandma HATES your dad! She really wanted me to marry a latino with those hard working morals. Not your rich boy playing superhero father, or as she puts it ‘a cop without the gun’”

Tensei scrunched his nose “Well in that case, why move on? I wouldn’t if I loved someone else before.”

“Oh yeah Tensei, the girls are just lining up to confess daily” sarcastically spoke his twin “they stuff your locker with notes and give you handmade bento to spoon-feed you at lunch!”

Tensei squinted at Hanaka “Sure! And the boys are on their hands and knees to your every whim too!” he matched the energy “They’re bending over backwards to shade you in the sun and carry you to your desk, so you don’t tire your little legs!”

“Okay enough you two” mediated their mother “You’ll understand once you meet your special someone, things will fall together and wonder why you ever lived without them.”

Tensei was always skeptical about love and romantic feelings, so his mother’s words were just another thing that he didn’t see the logic in. Hanaka absorbs anything love related but doesn’t put in the effort to be in a relationship. Not like anyone was actively seeking them anyways, especially not in UA!

-Two weeks later, Homeroom-

“...next for spars, Hanaka-”

“Please not Tensei, PLEASE NOT TENSEI!” Hanaka harshly whispered her plea in the gym bleachers.

“aaand Tensei”

“FUCK! OF COURSE IT’S MY FUCKING TWIN!” screamed the twins, angrily making their way to the sparing circle.

“Sheesh, you’d think they’d be over their tantrums” Masaru whispered to Tetsu, as they watched the twins do their little pre-spar stretch “This was bound to happen!”

“Heh, bet you 1,000 yen that Hanaka is gonna beat the shit outta Tensei” Tetsu wagered.

Masaru gasped “Don’t you have confidence in our friend?!”

Tetsu deadpanned to Masaru “Dude, she sent the class rep to the nurse’s office with a multi-punch attack in under a minute. Not to mention that she’s undefeated so far in spars!”

“If you put it that way” Masaru sighed in defeat “I’ll throw in this betting rink.”

The buzzer rang and the twins carefully circle each other, waiting for the other to make a move.

“I’m real sick of getting put up against you” spat Hanaka, high off their last 2 wins “Do me a favor and lose because I’m the queen of spars, that’s MY thing NOT YOURS!”

“The feeling is mutual hermanita” Tensei responded “But you know me, and I won’t go down without a FAIR fight. Not that you know how to play fair.”

That pushed Hanaka over the edge and ignited herself, tensing her body into fighting stance. Tensei did the first move and the fight escalated into a sibling fistfight and less of a technique display. Hanaka tries to pin her twin down for a pummeling.

“I should of ate you in the womb!” she yelled “then I wouldn’t be compared to you!”

“Bitch I wish you would’ve!” Tensei yelled, dodging his twin’s fast fists “then I’d never be compared to you!”

“Me?! You’re the perfect twin!”

“Bitch, you have the powers!” Tensei landed a punch on Hanaka’s stomach “Everyone wanted to you to be strong and carry on the family legacy from the moment you popped out. Everyone thought I was fuckin quirkless until 3rd grade!”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” screamed Hanaka as she shoved her twin to knock him on the ground “Everyone tells me why am I not as smart as you all the time! Since you won those little, stupid academic awards, where are my titles and awards?!” She swings a kick to Tensei’s side but he teleports to the other side of the circle “I’m just the dumb and angry one, so just let me HAVE THIS!”

She lunges a fiery punch toward Tensei but the power in that punch, with the solid block from Tensei, sent the twins out of bounds.

“No winners that round” sensei clicks his pen to scribble on his sheet “I have lots of technique critique and spar etiquette comments, but I’ll have you read them later.”

Hanaka wasn’t listening, she was absolutely crushed by the fact that her winning streak was gone. Just like that, all because of her twin. Feeling tears welling in her eyes, she ran out of the gym.

“Hanaka! Come back!” her friends cried out and chased after her, even though they have no hope in catching up to her.

“Aren’t you gonna-” started Tetsu

“No” Tensei interrupted “I don’t know what’s her deal, she’s been on my nerves at home about studying. And when I offer my help, she gets all defensive and shouty that she can do it herself.” He starts skimming through his critique paper “I blame my dad for focusing on quirk training with her instead of the other shit.”

The journey home was quiet as Hanaka fumed in the backseat of their dad’s car. When they got home, the twins went straight to their rooms with slammed doors. Without the older siblings at home, there's no mediator and dad is left with all the high emotions.

“Tensei? Can I talk to you?” asked their dad, knocking carefully.

“No, I’m busy” Tensei responded, totally lying but he really didn’t want to talk to his dad “Hanaka is the one with the problem, go talk to her!”

Their father sighed “I know your sister is the one that is angry. I just want to know what happened.”

Tensei sighed and unlocked the door. He gestured toward his desk with an arm chop “Come in, sit down please.”

He sits down and waits for Tensei to sit down “Alright, what happened?”

Tensei sighed with a slight groan “Did you know that your daughter is failing in her common core classes?”

“Even English?”

“Dad don’t be dumb! We tested out of that” sneered Tensei “But we got a report card today and I got praised for having the best grades in class and I guess that made Hanaka mad.” Tensei crossed his arms “Like? Who cares?! It’s not like I’m also good at fighting or rescue like she is! I get my ass kicked every class training, except when I went against Kyanka but that’s because I dodged at the right time for an out of bounds win.”

“Oh she’s upset over grades” their father connected the dots “and you’re upset that she’s excelling where you’re faltering.”

“Hey! I’m doing okay!”

“Show me your report card then” challenged their father.

Tensei handed over his report card, not making eye contact.

“Ah, so your ass is getting kicked in those parts” their father said after skimming the card “Well Tensei, I’m going to do what I did with Lili and Iwata.”

“Huh? What did you do?” Tensei was confused, he didn’t see the connection between their older siblings and him.

Their father stood up “I’m going to train you until these grades get raised” he handed back the card “You might not know but I made my way up the ranks with my ability to rescue and close combat. Just because you don’t have the family namesake quirk, doesn’t mean you can’t do what I can do. I see a great rescue hero in you.”

“How?”

“You punched that boy off your sister, even if it costed you the debate” he listed off “You pulled your sister and her friends to safety during the entrance exam, despite not being skilled enough in your quirks. And for someone that says they aren’t strong or fast enough; you always manage to push your unsuspecting sibling out of the way to an oncoming dog pile.”

Tensei didn’t have a comeback, he recalled everything his dad listed and meditated on it. It’s true that he can sort of sense danger at the most critical moment, but all those times were because it’s his family or people he cares about. He certainly cares about his family; can he really do the same for someone in need? And will Hanaka ever make amends with Tensei now that there’s a clear divide in what type of hero student they are?

-Chapter 7 end-

#mha #bnha #self insert au #not canon #Book 4 Chapter 7 #updates whenever I have time lmao #ask me anything #//Palma-sama Speaks #I live! but at what cost?!#life update: I graduated college with three degrees and quit my retail job so I can work in my tutoring job #I literally posted the previous chapter and then went sicko mode on my studies because I really wanted to finish college on time #On the brighter side of things! I now have the free time that I wanted to finish this AU!#Here's that self discovery arc part of the series. I'm very excited to post the next few chapters bc of the new characters #Hanaka has that 'queen of spars' mentality that their mother had but doesn't fully understand that it's bigger than she thinks it is #Tensei just doesn't know how to fight and it shows. Big lawyer energy #fair warning that I'm going to be time skipping a lot in this book bc the lessons learned are more important than the time of year #Thank you to all my readers! I know some of yall are bingeing after the new canon manga chapters and want to see their fave happy #Expect the next one in like? two weeks? Basically in the same month bc that's how much free time I have

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aka-indulgence · 1 year

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So... me and @llamagoddessofficial have been cooking up an au for a while... let me show you our hmf!Sans :> (Horror Mafiafell Sans)

You're a waitress working at a bar/restaurant, and a certain skeleton has been coming back again and again. You can't help but wonder... why?

---

“He’s all yours, babe.”

You look up from notes on the wall. You’d like to ask ‘who?’ but both you and Lisa know there was no use. You already knew who it was. You didn’t even have to look out the circular window to check. You just stare at Lisa helplessly.

“Really?” You try, “can’t you just… a bit longer?”

Your words come out a perfect mess. Lisa understands anyway.

“Look… I don’t know how to tell you this (Y/n),” She puts a hand on her hip, “you know I can’t go back out there to him.”

“But…!”

You bite your lip. You know she’s telling the truth. You wish you could tell her to suck it up and go back there, no matter how scared she was but… you’re not taking chances with the current patron sitting in the corner of the bar. No one would.

For Lisa’s… and everyone’s sake, you’re not going to see what he might do if you sent her out to tell him that you won’t be serving him tonight.

You sigh, and take a peek through the window. Though elusive nowadays, it was unmistakable who the man- the skeleton in question was.

Sans was built like a tank, his form hunched over the table. Even sitting on the wide, plush red sofa, he looked like a giant, dwarfing the table and chairs like they were playsets. Monsters were already bigger than humans in general but him… he grew bigger than he used to- at least from what you’ve heard. Not like you knew the mob boss years and years ago before he got his infamous skull injury, and the blown eye in his left socket that was soaked in the blood of those who had crossed him. His mouth was set in a frown, filled with razor sharp teeth- one of which was golden.

The same scary face you saw shrouded in shadows in the alleyway, a sharp bone gripped in his large hand, dripping red.

You fled that night, not quite believing what you’d saw. That you’d just saw a skeleton kill a guy in the back of the restaurant? That it was the mob boss Sans?! He didn’t chase you then, and you hoped that’d be the end of it but then… he showed up to the bar as a patron one night.

You were almost certain then, that he had come to kill you. Especially when your dear friend Lisa had so helpfully told you that he’d asked for you in particular.

“her…” his bony finger had pointed at you. She DID tried to save you, to err on mistake- which one did you mean sir?

But every time you moved, his phalange followed. There was no mistaking who he was asking for.

You remember her panicked voice.

“He asked for you! Specifically!”

“W… huh? Why’d he ask for me? Can… are you sure-”

“YES! And I don’t know WHY!”

As reluctant as you were, you still went to serve him. You asked for his order while your grip on your pencil and notepad got slippery as your palms got sweaty. He took his time ordering, perusing through the menu with great attention, while you were praying that your legs didn’t looks as shaky as they felt. You’d never rush him, of course, even if you hadn’t seen him towering over a dead body.

You took his order, served it (stuttering), and… then he left.

… And came back. Again, and again. Every time, he’d ask for you to serve him. He always stares when you weren’t at his table (and actually, when you were at his table too). You could feel that red eye staring a hole into your back from behind. It was unnerving.

It’s a wonder why a man of his infamy would choose a bar like this. You’ve seen your fair share of criminals in this job- it was an alright-sized bar, and not exactly in the best place in town. You’ve learnt to turn the other cheek whenever they were around (and you were sure you didn’t realize just how many of the patrons were gangsters), pretend you were blind to their… occupation.

None of them had been as scary as Sans, though. In fact, his presence alone was enough to drive away most petty criminals.

This place was nothing special. It’s a wonder why he’d choose this place out of all places, especially for a guy who doesn’t like being seen much.

… Ok, that was a lie. Everyone working knew that he was here for you. But that didn’t explain the why.

It was clear to you now that he wasn’t coming here to kill you for witnessing… what you witnessed (Why was a man like Sans doing in that nothing alleyway anyway?). But if not for that then… why did he keep coming, to keep asking for you? Maybe he had… business around here and he liked the place enough to keep coming?

Whatever it was, he was here for a reason and you just… don’t get it.

You don’t get why he wants you to be the one serving him every time he was around, but you did anyway. It’s been a couple of nights now, but you can’t say you’ve become less nervous over time.

After a small inner pep talk to yourself and wringing your hands, you push open the door, walking into the dining area. There isn’t a lot of people inside, a common occurrence whenever Sans visited. Even if it had been busy before, some people would hurriedly finish up whatever they were doing, paying all at once and leaving. You’ve even seen someone stop before finishing their meal. The rest that stayed sat uncomfortably, trying their best to ignore the menacing air that the skeleton brought with him everywhere he’d go.

It didn’t work, of course. A presence like that wasn’t you could easily ignore.

(You wish you could ignore him.)

You smile awkwardly as you walk to his table, setting his drink down. At least you had a little bit of your work cut out for you, with Lisa taking his drink order. His eye zeroed in on you as soon as he noticed you, and though you’ve been taught it’s rude to not make eye contact, with him it felt like looking him in the eye would be the wrong thing to do.

“Is there anything else you’d like?” you ask, your voice sweet and soft as ever, hiding the sound of your beating heart.

He stares.

He always stares.

You see his pupil dilate a little, then he opens his mouth.

“want…”

Sans was a man of few words. He only said his order, and nothing else. It kept your meetings with him brief- even when it looked like he wanted to say something else, he wouldn’t.

This time, he spaces off for a moment, eye looking away from you. You watch his brows draw together, pinched as he concentrates on a thought. You wish you knew what he was thinking of, especially when his frown starts to peel back into a snarl, like he was angry.

You definitely weren’t expecting a hand around your waist, snatching you a second later.

You squeaked, notepad and pencil clattering to the floor, bumping against his sturdy chest. Everyone heard and turned to look, and as soon as they saw tiny you, sitting on the giant’s lap, practically all of them pointedly turned away. You wish they were still looking now- you were pleading with your eyes, help me I don’t think I’m supposed to be here!

He pushes you here and there, so that you’re sat more comfortably on his lap. Your mind goes blank, your body freezes. You could feel his chest expanding and contracting as he breathes. He sounds much calmer now that you were on his lap. Your breaths are shallow, and stop completely when you feel one arm wrap around your middle, like a restraint. His free hand raises, calling for Lisa, who you’ve just noticed is watching from the corner, clutching her apron, as clueless as you are. She approaches, trying to keep her eyes on the skeleton instead of you.

“... burgers.” he says, simply. She nods, and gives you a glance.

You furrow your brows, and you want to hiss Lisa help me! But as soon as she sees your expression she turns around, avoiding eye contact. You could almost hear her say sorry babe, can’t help you there!

You almost call out to her when a hand lands on your head. You go stiff, and after you take a quick peek at him, you look straight ahead. The monster’s phalanges start petting you, slowly, sinking into your hair, scratching your scalp. Sans let’s out a long breath, brushing your hair. A shiver runs down your neck.

… Well. I think I’ll be here for a while…

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Sitting on the lap of a giant skeleton was certainly an experience. You tried distracting yourself, but it was impossible when you could feel every time Sans breathed. There was nothing you could do but sit there, playing with your apron until it was a crumpled mess, sweating a puddle onto your uniform… and maybe onto Sans’ expensive suit. You couldn’t relax, even though taking away big scary skeleton aside, he was comfortable to sit on, and he was warm… and smelled of rain and embers of a dying cigar.

He ate carefully, always leaning forward (squishing you against his chest) when he took a bite of his burger, making sure the crumbs wouldn’t fall on the top of your head, wiping his hands and his mouth before he leaned back. You could feel him sighing, and since he was the only thing you could notice, it felt like this was the most relaxed he’s ever been while in the bar, his breathing slow. Apparently he really liked your hair, with how his claws kept carding through it, even while he was eating. When his hands were clean, he’d let his hands wander all over you- but nothing untoward. You could feel him tilting his skull forward to look at you, while he thumbed your cheek, and his other hand roamed around your waist and belly. Though you were nervous, you could feel when he rubbed your thigh that it didn’t feel particularly… heated.

He sighs, and you feel the pressure of his skull on the top of your head. It took everything in you not to hunch over and avoid it. You screw your eyes shut when you feel him turn his skull, and it felt like he was… rubbing his cheek on you? Like he was snuggling you? Is… is that what he’s doing?

You’re not sure and your nerves are too frayed to call it that.

He didn’t stop after he finished either, his plate clean. He was still there- and subsequently, you stayed sitting on his lap- even after they closed the bar. It was just him now. Your coworkers kept the lights on just for him, and even most of them have gone.

He’s leaning back on the cushions, and he brought both his arms around you to pull you plush against his chest, almost tucked into his neck. You wondered if this was what a teddy bear would feel like, being hugged.

The bartender was cleaning up in the kitchen. It was just you and him in the dining area.

You swallowed… wondering what he wants to do. It’s past closing, late at night, just the two of you, and his hands were still (gently) rubbing you. They haven’t gone anywhere private but- what if he wanted to? … What if he wasn’t here to kill you but.. wanted you to… you don’t know, service him or something? Did he have unsavory requests for you?

You think that thought might’ve scared you even more than the thought of him killing you.

You startle when he grunts eventually, like he’s addressing you. A giant hand cups your cheeks and against your will they turn pink. Even though you were frightened, even if his touches were unsexual they still felt… intimate.

You squeak for the second time that night when both his hands pick you up, and sets you down on the sofa. You feel a ball form in your throat when he stands up and turns to you, thoughts running with all sorts of ‘what-ifs’. He takes your hand, opening it up, and then…

And then he places a thick wad of cash in it.

“... thank you.” He says, quiet.

You stare at the stack of paper on top of your hand, blinking once, before turning to the skeleton, jumping in your seat.

He was gone, just like that.

He was always quiet, wasn’t he?

You sit there dumbfounded, for what felt like minutes, your lips parted, money still sitting innocently in your hand. You think no one can blame you when the only thing you said after you sat there in silence was a very emphatic “... Huh?”

#cw: blood #cw: murder #only mentioned though #the rest is... kinda soft hjsdf #hes just spooky #sans x reader #aka writing #hmf!sans #i know theres probably a lot of horror+mafia+fell out there jus #this is my (and llama's) rendition #heehe

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lady-lostmind · 2 months

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The Wall

Love is: Letting yourself be loved.

a @steddielovemonth prompt Thank you @oh-stars for betaing this!

WC: 1490 | CW: very brief smut | Rating: E

ao3 link or under the cut

Steve has always had trouble believing people really care about him. He spent a lot of time alone growing up. A lot of holidays with nannies when his parents went off on vacation. A lot of birthdays on his own. He never really had actual friends. Even in high school. He just had…followers. He had people who liked what he could give them. A big empty house and a lot of guilt money from his parents. Of course he was popular. That didn’t mean people actually liked him. That they gave a shit about him.

He thought he finally found that in Nancy. That he finally knew what it was like to have someone care. That really loved him.

Bullshit.

One word. That’s all it took. Alone again.

It’s taken a lot of time to let himself believe the people in his life now want to be there. Robin has helped. Having someone he can count on to be there whenever he needs her. Learning that love can come in different forms. That even though Steve misread things in the beginning, she stayed. That she chooses to spend all her spare time with him. That she wants to work the same shitty job together so they can spend even more time together. She’s the first person he’s let the wall slip down for. That he lets really see him. Isn’t afraid she’ll drop him if he lets her get to know him.

Steve wants to let that wall down for Eddie. He knows he’s going to lose him if he doesn’t. Knows he’s not being fair to him. But it’s hard. And Steve is scared.

They’ve been together for almost a year now. Steve loves him. He loves him more than anything. He wants to scream it from the rooftops. To stare into his big brown eyes and whisper it over and over. To show him in every touch of their skin. He loves him so fucking much. But he hasn’t said it. Actually…he hasn’t said it back.

It’s been months since Eddie first murmured those words against his lips. At first, Steve had written it off. Eddie was buried to hilt in his ass at the time. Hurtling closer and closer to the edge. He thought he didn’t mean it. That he just got…caught up in the throws of passion. But then he’d said it again.

They were laying in Steve’s bed, wrapped around each other, close to dozing off, Eddie’s hand trailing softly along his side. “I love you, Steve Harrington.”

It was quiet. A whisper, really. And Steve had panicked. Screwed his eyes shut and pretended to be asleep. That he hadn’t really heard. He felt Eddie settle in against his back, slipping off to sleep himself, and Steve laid there, heart hammering in his chest and mind whirling. Because if Eddie started talking like that– Steve would start to believe him. And then Eddie would inevitably get tired of him. Would stop thinking the clinginess was cute. Would realize how dull he is. Eddie would move on. He’d leave Steve behind for bigger and better things. And Steve would be crushed. He wouldn’t survive this one.

So, when that little crack started forming in Steve’s wall, the moment he heard those words slip from Eddie’s mouth, he tried to patch it. Build it higher. Stronger. Because if it came crumbling down, Steve would come down with it.

He never mentioned it to Eddie. He ignored the way Eddie’s eyes would linger on him when they fell quiet. The tension growing more and more the longer they sat in silence. He knew Eddie wanted to ask. Or maybe wanted him to ask. Or he was waiting for a response. An answer to the unasked question that comes along with those words. Do you love me too? And Steve does. Of course he does. But if he says it, the wall will come down.

It’s been months. Eddie hasn’t said it again. Steve doesn’t know if he’s accepted that maybe Steve just didn’t hear him. That he really was asleep, or if Eddie has taken his silence as his answer. That Steve hasn’t brought it up…or said it back, because he doesn’t feel the same. Maybe Eddie’s busy building walls of his own. Because there’s been a shift.

It’s subtle. They still see each other almost everyday. Eddie still flashes him that million watt smile when he walks through the door. They still fall into bed with each other. But there’s less and less soft kisses. Eddie’s hands don’t linger long after they finish. He still nods when Steve asks if he’ll stay. Still wraps his arms around him when they fall asleep. But in the morning, he’s gone. Doesn’t linger for morning breath make-out sessions and wandering hands.

Steve knows he’s pulling away. Slowly. Like it’s killing him to do so. Like he’s fighting against his need to stay. But he knows if he doesn’t fix this soon, he’ll lose him for good.

–

Steve taps his fingers on the steering wheel, hitting the horn again as Robin stumbles out the front door, shoes in her hands, and runs over to the car, slamming the door shut as she flops into the passenger seat. “I was still brushing my teeth when you pulled up, dingus. You’re like twenty minutes early!”

Steve doesn’t even pull away from the curb. She’s right. They have plenty of time before their shift. He turns in his seat to face her. “Eddie said he loves me.”

Robin drops her shoes in her lap, mouth popping open a little in shock. “When?”

Steve sighs. “Three months ago.”

Robin’s mouth drops even further and she smacks his arm. “Why didn’t you tell–”

Steve watches Robin’s face fall. Sees the pity glaze over her eyes. “Oh, dingus. You didn’t say it back?”

Steve shakes his head. “The first time was– well. Let’s just say I wasn’t going to hold him to it the first time–”

Robin’s face scrunches in disgust.

Steve rolls his eyes and ignores her. “But after. We were falling asleep. He said it again and I–” He winces. “I pretended I didn’t hear. That I was sleeping.”

Robin’s mouth pops open again and she swats his arm. “What did you do that for!?”

Steve rubs his stinging arm and flails his hands around. “I don’t know! I just–couldn’t say it! And now things are weird. Like he knows I heard him. I just– I don’t know Robs. I don’t know if I can do this again.”

Robin sighs and leans forward, grabbing his face and making him look at her. “Listen to me, Steve Harrington.” She shakes his head a little in her hands. “That boy loves you. I knew that long before you told me all this. It’s obvious.” A little smile tugs at her mouth. “And Eddie is not Nancy Wheeler.”

Steve winces, tries to drop his eyes but Robin pulls his attention back to her with another little shake. “No– Listen to me.” She stares into his eyes until he sighs and nods. “I know you have trouble believing people love you. But take it from me, someone who absolutely does. Someone who knows exactly how lucky they are to have you in their life. Eddie loves you. And if you just let him, he’s not going anywhere.”

Steve sucks in a ragged breath, fighting the tears threatening to spill over. “He’s pulling away. I can feel it.”

Robin shakes her head. “Because you’re pushing him, babe.”

–

Steve drops Robin off at work apologizing over her insistence that it’s fine, she’ll cover for him, and he should go now. “Steve. Go get your idiot. I’ll be fine.”

He feels like he’s going to puke. Can’t believe he almost let this slip through his fingers. Hopes it isn’t too late. That he didn’t fuck this up. That he didn’t ruin everything because he was scared. Is scared, as he feels that crack forming again. His carefully crafted wall starting to come down.

He pulls up in front of Eddie’s and hurries to the door, knocking quickly before he loses his nerve, shifting on his feet as he waits for–

Eddie pulls open the door, his brows scrunching in confusion. “Hey, I thought you had to wor–”

“I love you.” Steve just blurts it out. Knows if he hesitated at all he would chicken out.

Eddie’s eyes go wide and he freezes in the doorway. Steve hovers on the porch, heart pounding in his chest, his palms get sweaty as what feels like an eternity passes before Eddie seems to come to himself, a wide grin spreading on his face. He reaches out and tugs Steve inside by the collar of his shirt, slamming the door behind him and pressing him against it in a fierce kiss.

Eddie chuckles against his lips and shakes his head. “I knew you heard me, you little shit.”

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie fanfic #lady lostmind #steddielovemonth #day 15 #love is letting yourself be loved

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heartfullofleeches · 10 months

Text

Yan Clown/Circus + Imaginary Friend Darling Blurb

Throughout life, friends come and go, but you - were always the first.

Things were simple in the beginning. Sit with that lonely kid at the playground, wipe their face with your sleeves, and ask if they wanted to be friends. They always said yes. You were inseparable. Playing until streetlights came on plus a seat saved for you at the dinner table when they reluctantly returned home. The biggest fears you faced where the monsters under the bed and the dark... then came school, homework, the future. Your playdates became so far and few, they put in the efforts to make new friends and you were so happy for them.

"Y/n? Who's that? Quit talking to yourself and come hang out with us."

But none of them ever wanted to be yours. Your friend was never home anymore and when they were it was always school work or video games taking their attention. Your place at the table was given to someone else. They'd gradually drift away from speaking to you and it was like you never existed in the first place to them, and maybe you never did - so you left. Back to that empty that existed before it all. There, you remembered all your friends. All your precious memories and the treasures they gave you their parents questioned them about when they disappeared. You hated it there. You didn't want to reminisce on the good times - it only lead to wordless goodbyes. Why - why did they always leave you behind?

"I got invited to a slumber party this weekend... Everyone turned out to be so nice once I gave them a chance like you told me to.... You'll... always be my best friend, but I have real ones now. I'm not a kid anymore - and I can't live in a fantasy world forever."

Of course you always knew - but did your time together really mean nothing? The smiles and tears, joys and fears - were those fake too? This was how life for you went and has gone your entire path. Make a new friend, wait for them to make their own, force yourself to forget, and repeat. You never, ever blamed them for abandoning you. It was your biggest dream to see your friends go out in the world and do all the things you rambled about for hours - you just wished you could've been their when they made their dreams come true. If they could make those fantasies reality, why couldn't you be real too them? It's not fair-

"Hey! You gonna put your raspberry in the square yet? I don't mind waiting cuz you're really cute - but I've eaten most of the blueberries already and if I eat one more I won't have enough for a win."

A new friend - you kept them waiting, lost in your thoughts like that. There's something different about this one... They're a lot bigger than your old friends and dress strange just like those funny people in shows. How old are they?

"28..... Is my favorite number because that's how many waffles I can eat before throwing up. I dunno my age really, I like a lot of candles on my pie so it's hard to remember. I'm probably waaaaaay older - or younger, but I'm definitely not younger than eighteen because I get a new doll every year - and there's a ton. Hey, when's your birthday so we can get your collection started?"

An adult - An adult can see you, but why?

"Hmmm, I dunno how you got in here either. I was just thinking about how great it would be to have someone to eat all these waffles with since I made 29 today - and poof you appeared outta nowhere. You gotta so me that trick eventually - wanna be pals? I'll give you... a quarter, no- half the stack if ya stick around. My name's Gus. Gus the clown."

A clown... Alot of your friends loved those, others were terrified. This one reminded you alot of them. So silly and carefree, just like they always were before reality kicked in. It was never that way for Gus. You'll never forget the shocked look on their face when you told them chocolate milk didn't come from brown cows. They serenaded you with songs detailing your adventures together and nearly had a heart attack when you played peekaboo together which they later tried to play off as good acting - the tear smudges in their paint was just from hot how was is.

At the same time, Gus was far more mature they let on. They fantasized about finding the missing piece to their act and heart, and hopefully marrying that special someone someday. They were all smiles - but as soon as someone got hurt they knew when to drop the act and when to use it to their advantage. You prayed the day they found someone they wouldn't ditch you like everyone else.

It turned out there were a lot more like Gus. True to their status as a performer, they worked and lived in a traveling circus with others who were accepting of you - and had the eyes to see you. They never doubted your existence like parents used to and believed near ever word Gus said even when at the point in time you were nothing more than the ramblings of a mad-clown, and greeted you in kind. Overtime, you became corporal for these performers too and the brief hellos turned to bear hugs thrust upon dolls Gus' sibling made for everyone to have when they wanted sat hello. They still couldn't touch you, but for the first time everyone knew you were their and love you the same, if not more than the friend you came for. Sometimes it really did feel like you were a real person. If only....

"Ouch!"

You pull your hand away from Gus' as the clown bursts into a fit of giggles - yelping in pain as they clap their hands together, electrocuting themselves on the buzzer.

Whoo! That definitely sends a shock through ya. Can't believe that got you. Hey - that got you... you've never been hurt by any of the things we've done before."

They're right. That really did hurt. Wait. It hurt. You've never been able to interact with anything before - leaving Gus overwhelmed on brunch dates when they devoured your share. What's going on?

Gus expresses the confusion you're both feeling with a high-pitched scream. They dart around the room, nabbing their emergency supplies of candy from beneath their pillow. "Ahhhh, idea - Y/n, try one of these - hurry!"

You take one of the licorice sticks and shove it in your mouth. If picked up the treat wasn't proof enough, the explosion of flavor on your tongue confirmed your theories.

"It's...good."

Gus races in a circles, squeeling in delight as they grab and pinch your plush - warm cheeks. "They've never been warm before! This is amazing. Ahhh, next test- here goes!"

Shutting their eyes, Gus rams their lips against yours - grinning with teeth against your skin. They kiss your lips, cheeks, and noses - smothering you with a hug, soaking up the beat of your speeding heart.

"You have no idea long I've wanted to do that...."

You're still reeling from everything going on. "W-what's happening, Gus?"

"No clue! If you want my guess, I'd say so many people believing in you made you real like that one movie with the puppet. The others! Oh, man everyone's gonna love this! Come on!"

Gus picks you up and sprints to the main show room. They gather everyone into the area along with the biggest mirror they could find. They try to explain, but the excitement gets the better of them. Frustrated by everyone's agreeable questions - they rip off the blanket covering the mirror and your reflection, and the crowd goes wild.

"That wasn't there before! Can we touch Y/n now???"

"I call dibs on giving them their first piggyback ride!"

"Wonderful timing! I knitted you a lovely scarf before I forgot you technically were a figment of our combined imaginations."

"If they're really here and can touch stuff... They can be part of the show - can't they?"

Thats right. You'd fit right in with your history too. After a celebratory dinner and cuddle session - the preparations for your big debut were made. As expected, everyone loved you. You and Gus were the starting act, and two halves of the same whole. People saw you, they praised you, loved you. The adoration of the crowd was like no other, but everything after the curtains were closed was even better. Gus kept to their promise of never leaving you behind. You were that missing piece - someone they couldn't live without. It was time for you to finally grow up and leave the ghosts of the past where they lied.

"Aw, don't be like that, sweetie. You'll love it once we get there."

This is bullshit. Their college gradation and their folks were dragging them to some circus. Luckily they had a few buds pull through for an aftershow at a nearby bat.

"Maybe your opinion will change when you see the staring act. That clown reminds me a lot of that friend you used to go on about. What was their name again? I think it was -"

Y/n. Your name and smiling face were plastered on a billboard they passed. It was no vague resemblance - that was their first companion down to the scrunchie you wore around your wrist that they gave you on the day they gave you the lukewarm mercy of a goodbye. It couldn't really be you - right?

"Look how big you've grown...."

No-

"Your parents tell me you're graduating this year. I'm so, so proud of you. Are you going to become a scientist just like you said?"

How?

"You always said it was so you could find a way for everyone to see me too... I'm sorry for holding you back for so long. It's good that you made friends. I made alot too - really good ones. With them, I can live in fantasy and the real world at the same time. It's so much fun."

What are you apologizing for? Why are you acting like you're the one that abandoned them. You were everywhere to them. Everything they ever achieved was because of the shoulder you gave them to lean on. Being with you was like a dream - but everyone has to wake up eventually.

"Oops! Looks like a wasted all our time. I have a few more scheduled greets, but maybe if you stay after we can chat a little more before you leave. See you!"

They don't want to leave. There's still so much to be explained; to say and do, but just like them - you were gone as you appeared. They had to see you again in a better time. Do imaginary friends drink coffee?"

"How's it feel to be the one on the other end of the stick?"

Another clown stands behind them. It was the same one that shared your act. Gus. What do they want?

"Y'know I know alllll about what happened between you two. I know everything from their past since as their bestest friend - and potential future spouse - it's my job to make them loved enough to spill every, little detail. You shouldn't have come here. You're not the first to recognize them - and you won't be the last.

The ball of their wrist juts painfully against their skin as the clown grabs their arm.

"I won't let any of you get back into their heart. I won't let anyone hurt them again. You can't just take back what you broke when someone else fixes it. I'll make you feel what they felt. I'll make them forget you - and anyone who tries to take them from us that I promise and promises are meant to be kept. Quick question before you go though - think Y/n will like these matching necklaces I made us? Anything looks cute when its on them - but think it'll fit better than that old scrunchie."

#Gus my oc #yandere imagines #yandere oc #yandere x you #yandere scenarios #yandere insert #yandere blurb #yandere headcanons #yandere x reader #yandere clown #yandere concept #yandere idea #yandere

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buckymorelikefuckme · 13 days

Text

a helping hand

jake jensen x fem reader

words: 3.7k

warnings: **18+ ONLY** friends to lovers, handjob, fingering, p in v sex, unprotected sex (don't do that), jake has a big dick, my lame attempts at humor. please let me know if i missed anything!

a/n: SURPRISE!! this is honestly so silly. and filthy. i wrote it in a frenzy last night after the idea randomly came to me. keep in mind it's all based off the vague info i have about him. i probably took a lot of liberties. it wasn't planned for my first jakey fic to be this, but oh well lmao! any and all mistakes are my own. feedback is encouraged and greatly appreciated :) xo

With an exaggerated, put-upon sigh, you gesture vaguely at Jake to stand and say, “Alright, let me see it.”

“What?” Jake asks, brows furrowed so deeply you worry he’ll get a migraine.

“You’re being awfully dramatic about this, so I need to see what all the fuss is about,” you calmly explain, though still skeptical.

Jake had showed up at your apartment with a look of pure despair, ranting about how yet another hookup went south when they took their clothes off and his would-be partner saw his cock for the first time. Said they almost begged him to leave and take his monster with him.

Surely his dick can’t be that big, right?

Jake hesitates, watching you warily as he contemplates, but then he sighs heavily and he rises to his feet, grumbling as he unbuttons and lowers the zip on his jeans. His thumbs curl under the waistband of both the jeans and his underwear before he unceremoniously shoves them down to mid-thigh. And then there’s only silence that follows.

You blink. You stare. You blink again.

Jake shifts his weight on his feet, settling his hands on his hips awkwardly.

Finally, you find your voice.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” you wheeze, your voice tight and airy as you struggle to remember how to inhale.

Jake groans, covering his face mournfully. “I told you!” he wails. “It’s too big! And I know, I know—boohoo woe is me I have a big dick—but listen, this is literally a big fucking problem. I’m going crazy here. It’s just not the same with only my hands!”

Probably because not even both of your hands can cover your gigantic fucking penis, you think to yourself, but thankfully, do not say aloud. And, alright, maybe you’re exaggerating just a little, but Jake is still easily the biggest you’ve ever seen. Like, leaps and bounds bigger. The length of it isn't overly scary or anything, it's just… thick, and veiny, has the slightest curve to it.

And the thing is, you really shouldn’t be so surprised. In general, Jake himself is… big. He’s tall, and broad, and his hands are works of fucking art with his long fingers and wide palms, and his thighs—Jesus, fuck, his thighs. They deserve sonnets alone, just for how sculpted and muscled they are. Even Jake’s pecs are big. And you’re normally not a tit person, but Jake’s? You’ve cupped and squeezed and fondled them probably too many times to be appropriate.

The point is, though, that Jake is fucking hot. You have always thought so, in an offhand kind of way, like, a passing observation. Jake is also sweet and attentive, always periodically checking in on each person in his friend group, always willing to offer advice or a listening ear. He’s incredibly smart while also endearingly dumb about so much. He never asks for help with anything because he doesn’t want to be a burden, no matter how many times he’s told he could never be. So you’re pretty sure that Jake has used up all of his courage and vulnerability by coming to you with his problem. And you are flummoxed as to why he chose you, but you will not let this opportunity pass you by.

“Jake,” you start after a slight pause, “I have lube, patience, and willpower.”

And Jake says, “Huh?”

Which is fair, to be honest.

“Can you, um, put your dick away so I can think properly?” you ask after delicately clearing your throat.

Jake flushes and hastily obeys before taking his spot on the couch again.

You shift to face him fully, taking in his pink cheeks and inability to meet your gaze, and you feel bad for being so blunt, for speaking before thinking.

“Sorry,” you apologize, “I just wasn't… You know.” You wave your hand around in a way that you hope says, I wasn't expecting you to have the most perfect cock I've ever seen, when your mind blanks on how to continue.

Then again, maybe it's a good thing you couldn't figure out a way to say that verbally.

You clear your throat again. “What I was trying to say is that, um, maybe I could help you?”

Jake tilts his head. “Help me?” he repeats.

“Yeah, you know, like,” you say, licking your lips, “I could lend a hand. So to speak.”

It only takes a split second for him to understand what you're saying. His eyes widen, round like saucers behind his glasses, ears now burning a bright red as he sputters.

“What? You're offering to—no, that's. No, you're not—this isn't what I—fuck, I think I’m gonna pass out,” he stammers breathlessly, and honestly, he is starting to look a bit lightheaded. He shakes himself, closing his eyes, then takes in a deep breath and releases it slowly.

You quietly wait for him to gather himself, almost wishing you hadn't said anything. Almost, but not really, not enough to try to take it back.

Finally, he blinks his eyes open and turns to you. “I didn't come here expecting you to–to help me with my… problem.”

“Jakey,” you say on an exhale, smiling. “I know that. I offered because I wanted to.”

“But why?” he questions, bewildered.

You purse your lips, glancing up at the ceiling as you think about your response carefully this time. “Because you're one of my best friends, and you're hurting, in a way. I know it's not like, the worst thing in the world to just get off with your own hands, but I feel like getting shot down at the last minute every time you go to have sex can't be good for you mentally, either.”

Jake shifts his gaze to his lap then, mouth twisting into something disappointed, and that just confirms what you've said. He's started taking this to heart, beating himself up over something entirely out of his control. Sure, you wanna get your hands, mouth, and everything else on his dick, but a guy like Jake deserves to be brought to orgasm by someone else.

“Think of it as a favor,” you try, quietly, nudging his arm.

Swallowing roughly, he meets your eyes, searching. “Are you sure?” he asks after a long pause.

You reach out and grab his hand, twining your fingers with his. “I’m sure.” When he still hesitates, you squeeze his hand lightly. “You can say no, Jake.”

“No.” You start to pull away, and then he shakes his head quickly, holding on to you tighter. “No, I mean—I don't want to say no. I'm just. I'm a little nervous.”

His confession breaks your heart a little more. On the surface, this problem isn't all that serious, but underneath it all, Jake is craving connection. You’ll make sure he leaves your apartment more than satisfied.

“If at any point, for any reason, you want to stop then we’ll stop,” you promise.

He finally smiles, small and lopsided, and nods in agreement. You stand up, tugging him to rise with you and struggling to lift all that muscle mass.

“Come on,” you instruct, “let's go to my bedroom. We’ll have more space there.”

Silently, he follows you to your room, palm clammy against yours. The sun is shining through your windows, beams landing directly on your bed like some kind of spotlight. You let go of Jake’s hand to quickly shove your comforter to the foot of your bed then climb onto it.

“C’mere,” you murmur when you see him hovering unsurely beside the bed, patting the space between your legs.

First, Jake makes quick work of the button and zip on his jeans, before knee-walking to where you indicated. You both settle on the mattress, your back to the headboard and Jake getting comfortable against your chest and into the cradle of your spread thighs. The position really highlights your size difference, almost comically, and you have to swallow down all the things you want to say or sounds that threaten to escape.

Jake already has his jeans back down around his knees and quickly wiggles his underwear down to get his dick out. He’s jittery, his movements stilted and awkward, like he doesn’t quite know what to do with himself.

“Relax, Jakey,” you softly instruct, reaching up to squeeze at his shoulders comfortingly. “It’s just me. I’m here to help, okay?”

“Right,” Jake replies on an exhale, nodding, “okay. It’s fine. I’m fine.”

Your lips quirk slightly. “Good. I’m gonna touch you now, alright?”

“Okay,” Jake murmurs.

You hear him swallow, see his fists clench and unclench where they’re resting beside his thighs. Tentatively, as if not to startle him, you move your hands to Jake’s hips, petting over the exposed skin there. You hear Jake’s breath hitch then, so you keep going. You trail your fingers down the tops of Jake’s thighs, into the crease where they meet his groin and back up, just a touch higher than before, and you repeat the motion a few times until you’ve worked the hem of Jake’s shirt up to give you better access to his torso.

Slowly, Jake sinks further and further into your embrace, getting heavier and heavier the more you touch him. You are quietly loving the weight of him, the way his head is starting to loll and his eyelids beginning to flutter. You watch Jake bite his lip when you finally tease closer to his hardening cock, running your fingernails lightly across the trimmed hair above it.

You raise one of your hands, palm up, with a soft, “Jake,” as instruction.

He blinks down at your hand for a second, dazed, and then he’s carefully holding your hand and bringing it up to press a surprisingly gentle kiss to your palm. You feel your face grow hot as you hide your smile in Jake’s shoulder, though you’re positive he can feel it anyway.

“Jakey,” you say again, painfully endeared, “I meant for you to, you know, get my hand wet.”

“Oh.” He huffs a little at himself, but he doesn’t hesitate to bring your hand back up to his mouth and drag his tongue across your open palm.

Now it’s your turn for your breath to catch in your throat, locking every part of your body so you don't make any sudden movements or do something stupid. That gets more difficult to avoid when Jake, after thoroughly licking all over your hand, tops it all off by gathering the remaining saliva in his mouth, makes you cup your hand and then spits into it. For a split second, you think you’re about to come, which would be mortifying, so you’re glad when you’re able to reign in your hormones and offer a small thank you so you can get back to the task at hand. Literally.

You bite the inside of your cheek as you finally allow yourself to look over Jake’s shoulder, and honestly, you could weep at the sight before you. Jake’s cock is fully hard now, lying against his toned stomach, looking more intimidating than ever. Somehow his cock seems bigger, and thicker too. Your mouth waters, but you tell yourself to focus.

With your dry hand, you lift Jake’s cock, holding him at the base while you bring your other hand down to curl around the head. Jake gasps lightly, but otherwise stays still and quiet, at least until you begin stroking him. Slow and steady, you drag your hand down to the base of Jake’s cock, then add a little more pressure on the upstroke. Jake makes a punched out kind of sound, his knees jerking up slightly before settling back in place. A thrill rushes through you, powerful and giddy at the thought of Jake being at your mercy, of being the one to pull out even these tiny reactions. It makes you want to see just how loud you can make him. For now, though, you continue your steady pace, feeling more than hearing Jake’s sigh when you use your free hand to start touching him everywhere you can reach again.

What’s dangerous about this is that you could get used to it. You’re pretty sure you already are, and that could spell disaster for you, because you’re just supposed to be helping him out. This is only supposed to be offering Jake some relief after being unable to get off with a partner, to give him pleasure that isn’t by his own hands. You press your lips together and speed up your stroking, just a smidge, squeeze a bit more around the head and dig your thumb into Jake’s slit.

“Oh,” he utters, head falling back to rest on your shoulder, eyes closed tight and hips twitching up into your touch, chasing the feeling.

“Does it feel good, Jakey?” you boldly ask.

Jake nods and hums. “So good,” he affirms. He moves his hands to grip your knees as he adds, “Being so good to me, sweetheart.”

And, well. Fuck. You've been trying to pretend your pussy isn't wetter than it's been in a long while, but his words have you wishing you could close your thighs for some much needed friction. Subtly, you try to shift your hips and all it does is make you more frustrated. You let out a huff, breath fanning out against Jake’s neck. He shivers against you and you pause. Your lack of movement makes him whine, low and pleading, and it jolts you back into action.

Dragging your gaze down the line of his throat only makes you want to put your mouth on it, see if you can get him to shiver again. You peek at his face and see his eyes are still closed. Softly, so soft, you lean in and press a kiss to the side of his neck, and the way he responds is beautiful.

He whimpers, tilts his head back further to give you more room, his hips bucking up into your hold as you continue stroking him at a rhythmic pace. And you really can't say no to that kind of invitation. So, sufficiently sure that he doesn't mind it, you press even more kisses into his skin, trailing them up and down his neck and shoulder, as far as you can reach. The kisses turn wet, your tongue flicking out to taste him. Jake’s stomach muscles clench, and you quicken the pace of your hand up a bit, mouthing sloppily up his neck to his ear.

“Don't know how anyone could refuse you,” you mutter, your own breathing getting heavier to match his. “How can anyone look at your cock and not want to sit on it, Jakey? It doesn't make sense.”

He groans, planting his feet on the mattress so he has better leverage to thrust up into your fist, panting and letting out needy sounds.

“God, Jake,” you whine. You suck and bite a mark on his throat, pulling away once you're happy with it. “I bet you would feel perfect inside me,” you confess in a whisper.

“Stop,” he pants, and you let go of him in an instant, stomach dropping.

Before you can start to panic too much, Jake clumsily shifts around until he's on his haunches facing you, flushed all the way down his chest, eyes blazing behind his frames. You open your mouth to ask him what's wrong, but then he's gripping you under your knees and yanking. You fall flat on your back with a startled yelp and Jake is there to swallow the sound, kissing you like it's his lifeline. A moan rips its way out of your chest, arms coming up to wrap around his shoulders and pull him closer to you.

He breaks the kiss, glasses askew, to ask, “Can I please fuck you?”

Any other time you'd snort at the politeness of such a vulgar question, but at the moment all you can do is nod, roughly tugging at his shirt until he gets the hint and removes it, almost knocking his glasses off entirely. It lands somewhere on the floor, along with his jeans and underwear a second later. You squirm once you see his body fully naked, core throbbing in need to have it against you, on top of you.

“You too,” he murmurs, reaching for your shorts.

You lift your hips to help him, biting your lip at the way he curses when he realizes you aren’t wearing panties. With a grin, you surprise him further by taking off your t-shirt and reveal you're also not wearing a bra.

“Would it totally ruin the moment if I say I’ve wanted this for way too long?” he wonders, eyes raking over your body, his hands joining soon after.

You smile softly and shake your head. “Not at all.” He returns your smile, but yours eases into something mischievous. “But what will ruin the moment is if you don't get your fingers in me to get me ready for your big cock.”

Jake’s smile drops. “Fuck,” he says with feeling.

To incentivize him, you spread your legs, hand tracing a path down to where you're dripping. He watches with blown pupils and a slack jaw. When you hum as your fingers lightly glide down your slit, he snaps into focus. He knocks your hand away to replace it with his own. You sigh at the touch of his calluses on your sensitive skin, tilting your hips up and moaning when he finally sinks one finger inside you.

Thankfully, he doesn't seem to want to waste time, thrusting his finger steadily. You've never appreciated how long his fingers are more than you are at this very moment. He works you up to three of them much too fast for your liking, but you understand the urgency he’s feeling, and you can't really deny that you're feeling it too.

“That's good, Jake, c’mon, please get in me already,” you beg, shifting restlessly.

“Shit,” he breathes, “okay, yeah, let me just—”

He shuffles closer, taking his cock in hand and rubbing it up and down your slit, the head catching on your opening, making you whine. He curses under his breath some more and starts pushing in. Your mouth drops open, but no sound comes out, brows furrowing deeply as he splits you open on his cock. When he bottoms out, you let out a sharp exhale that hitches in your chest, while Jake’s chest is heaving like he's run a marathon.

“So tight,” he mutters.

“So—” You hiccup through a desperate sob. “So big, oh my god, Jakey, baby, please move, I need you to move.”

His chin drops to his chest with a pained sounding groan, but he listens. He draws his hips back, cock dragging deliciously out of you, before he thrusts back in. You're not sure you've stopped making noise since he started pulling out, high and needy and hungry pleas for more, and he's barely even gotten started.

Every sensation feels dialed up to a million. You're not sure sex has ever been like this for you; like your skin is on fire, like you can feel your pulse throb through every limb, through every single finger and toe, but especially in your clit. Your nipples even feel more sensitive than usual as they brush against his chest. Your body is positively singing with pleasure.

And Jake… Oh, that sweet, precious man is in heaven. You know you're tight around him, warm and wet, the perfect place to fuck into, and now that he's finally getting what he's wanted he's not holding back. He's fucking you like he’s gonna be graded on it after. His hips slam into yours and he can't stop making noises of his own. Grunts, soft gasps, neverending praise over how you feel, how he's so happy this is happening, how he's never going to stop fucking you.

Your nails dig into the flesh on his back, dragging all the way down until you flatten your palms on his ass and squeeze. His thrusting falters for a second, but he finds his rhythm again quickly, dropping to his elbows so that he's even closer. He kisses along your collarbones, nipping at the base of your throat before sucking at the spot harshly. You moan brokenly and clutch at him tighter.

“Left my mark on you, too,” he declares, kissing the bruise he’s made, then kisses you properly, tongue sliding across yours and dipping into your mouth.

You're not sure how much longer you can hold back from touching your clit, your need ratcheting higher and higher, but you know Jake is right there with you. He's pounding into you roughly now, chasing his climax with determination. Reaching down, you swipe your fingers through your slick and use it to rub your clit, a whimper escaping you when you tighten around him from the added stimulation. Jake growls and speeds up some, hitching one of your legs up his side. It changes the angle just enough that he's hitting that spot inside you that has you crying out, a long warble of his name, fingers quickening their pace on your clit.

“Yeah, that's it,” he encourages. “Please, come for me. Come on, baby, let me see it, wanna watch you fall apart.”

All of your breath gets trapped in your lungs as warmth pools in your core and bursts outward, your pussy fluttering and clamping down on his cock. Your body shivers through your climax, thighs trembling unceasingly as Jake groans and fucks you harder, three, four more times before stilling. He comes with a loud moan, grinding inside you as he rides it out.

After a moment, he collapses on top of you. You grunt at his weight, but smile tiredly at your ceiling, combing your fingers through his hair. You feel him press a kiss on your shoulder.

“Thank you,” he mumbles.

That makes you giggle, which in turn makes you clench and has Jake whining since he's still buried inside you. Gingerly, he pulls out, both of you hissing at the sensation. He runs a tender finger along the outside of your opening.

“Did I hurt you?” he asks, concerned.

“No, baby,” you whisper.

He meets your gaze then, hopeful, still flushed with exertion and glasses slightly foggy. “Baby?”

You hum with a grin. “Yes. My big, beefy baby,” you tease. “I’m keeping you all to myself now.”

“You know, I think I just might be okay with that,” he replies, beaming in a way that puts the sunlight through your window to shame.

#jake jensen #jake jensen x reader #jake jensen x you #jake jensen fic #jake jensen fanfiction #jake jensen smut #jake jensen fluff

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shinestarhwaa · 5 months

Note

16,25,32,69-yunsanhwa please? thxx.!

I got a little too excited with this one HAHA I'm sorry, I hope you enjoy it cuz I rly did xo

WHAT HAPPENS IN LONDON || YUNSANHWA

Genre: Smut

Pairing: Ateez!Yunho/San/Seonghwa x manager!reader

Word Count: 3k

Tags/warnings: Idol!AU, Dom!Yunho, Dom!San, Sub!Seonghwa, Sub!reader, Foursome, Dirty Talk, M x M (only SanHwa), bottom!Seonghwa, top!San, oral sex (f and m receiving), fingering (f receiving), unprotected sex, vaginal sex, anal sex (m receiving), lots of orgasms, handjob, Seonghwa is a wee bit pervy, voyeurism

Taglist: @anyamaris @a-soft-hornytiny @whatudowhennooneseesyou @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @pyeonghongrie-main @woosanbby @dreamlesswonder86 @changbinslovelylegs @jonghostie @lovjensoo @1-800-shedevil @glintneon123 @mjyungi

ENJOY!

It had been a fun evening so far, walking around the city with the three boys. They treated you on a meal and you showed them various locations and even took videos of their silly Tiktok ideas.

They were lovely really, very different from the artists you had worked with before. You've had two managing jobs before but they didn't last long because of various reasons, but you got hired by KQ for Ateez and you couldn't be happier.

It paid well and they treated you nicely. They always made you laugh and made sure you were comfortable while you're the one who should take care of them instead. Somewhere in your heart you felt like they truly cared for you and you really felt like you didn't deserve them.

After safely getting them back to their hotel, San invited you and the other two boys into his room for a nightcap. After some begging and pleading you finally agreed and entered his room.

As Seonghwa and Yunho had already sat down on the chairs you stood a little awkwardly beside San's bed, drink in your hand. "Just sit, manager-nim," San pouted, pulling your sweater. You couldn't help but smile at the boy and you nodded, sitting down next to him.

The conversation carried on normally until Yunho decided to ask you more personal questions. "So, you're not involved with anyone, manager-nim?" He asked. You shook your head and laughed a bit sheepish. "No, it has been a while, I'm too busy with you idiots," you answered with a grin.

"Oh, really? Well then I'm sorry," Yunho apologized, "we should make up for that in some way right?"

You locked eyes with Yunho as your mouth went dry. What did he mean by that? "I mean, it is only fair," he carried on, "you're taking good care of us as our manager, Y/N, but who's gonna take care of you?"

The way his name fell off your lips made you feel all tingly, a feeling you tried to ignore and block out, but it was impossible because his deep voice send shivers and all kinds of signals directly down to your core.

"I-I...," you stammered, "I can take perfectly good care of myself, I have my own apartment and I don't have debts-." "I believe that isn't what Yunho meant," Seonghwa chimed in. His stare was a little more intense than you were used to from him, his soft and shiny boba eyes gone.

"You know what we mean," San suddenly hushed by your ear, "who's there to please you? I bet we can do it better than you and your little toys could." "T-toys?" You gasped. "We know what's in that red bag of yours, remember the day you slept in our hotelroom last month?" San asked, reminiscing the night where you lost your keys so you crashed on their couch.

"You looked in my bag?" You asked, nervously. "Well, it was open for everyone to see so, yes, I saw what was in there," San confessed. "But believe me, my cock is bigger than that, I could please you so much better than that thing... I bet all three of us could."

You swallowed thickly and crossed your legs. "I-I don't know San, this all seems quite unprofessional," you muttered. "It's just one night, Y/N, and besides that, no one has to know about it," Yunho said. You hesitated, looking at the gorgeous men in front of you.

It was too good to be true right? Three hot and famous men wanting to have sex with you in a beautiful hotelroom on the other side of the world? But how could you say no if they looked at you like this?

"How... would that work?" You asked carefully, earning a few glances and smirks from the boys. "Well you know how sex works right? You can't be a virgin," San grinned. "No, no I know... I'm not a virgin," you said, blushing, "it's just... how would it work with the four of us...? You'd all be naked in front of each other, is that not a problem for you?"

San smirked and let his hand glide over your thigh. "I'm kinda excited about it, actually," he confessed. "Always have been curious about seeing their cocks hard and leaking...," he went on, "and Seonghwa hyungies hole."

Seonghwa blushed and his eyes went wide as he tried to hide his growing boner with his sweater. "Wh-whatt?" He giggled as he looked away, unable to face him. "You heard me." What did he say?

"I don't care what you guys want, all I know is that right know I'm gonna rip off those stupid tight clothes and I'm gonna ravish your naked body," Yunho grunted. "Hm, we'll share," San said.

San kissed your lips and you immediately melted in his embrace. You had always wondered what his arms felt like, his big strong arms that drove every woman on the planet absolutely insane and they felt great.

San kept kissing you as Yunho got on his knees in front of you, pulling down your skirt and spreading your legs a little, seeing the wet patch on your underwear. "Ooh, did we get you wet, Y/N?" Yunho smirked. You broke off the kiss with San, already missing his soft lips as you nodded and slipped your panties off. Yunho nearly growled at the sight of your bare pussy in front of him, running his hands over your soft thighs.

San undid your blouse and bra in a few simple motions, leaving you completely naked. You felt so exposed, looking at the three completely clothed boys and they caught up on it quickly. One by one they started to undress, leaving just their underwear on.

Yunho got between your legs again and licked a stripe up from the bottom of your cunt all the way to your clit, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud. "O-Oh, Yunie," you panted out, making Yunho grin as he heard the nickname you always gave him roll from your tongue in the form of a moan.

"Yunie, Yunie, Yunie!" You moaned as he fucked you with his tongue and occasionally sucked on your clit. "Stay quiet dear, they'll be able to hear us," San smirked as he kissed your neck and fondled your breasts. You saw Seonghwa in the corner of the room, clearly nervous but palming his crotch as he watched Yunho eat your pussy.

"A-Are you not joining in, Seonghwa?" You asked him, as you were kind of hoping he would come closer and pleasure you. He was a little shy, but he nodded and came closer, sitting on your left side. "If we're gonna do this I want all three of you," you said in a husky tone as you kissed his neck and latched your tongue on his sensitive skin.

His brows furrowed and he swallowed thickly, clearly getting harder from your actions. Your hand reached Yunho's dark hair and pulled it slightly. He looked up at you from between your legs and moaned against your pussy as he kept eating you out.

"So when did you start thinking about fucking me?" You panted out as you grinded your sex on Yunho's tongue. "Hmm, for months now," he moaned against your cunt. You moaned out his name again, a little louder this time.

"You want them all to hear, don't you? You want everyone to hear how good Yunie's making you feel?" San smirked. You couldn't even form a proper sentence because Yunho was currently bringing you to fucking paradise on that skilled tongue. Your moans grew louder as your orgasm washed over you, body trembling in San's embrace.

"Fuck, that's so hot," Seonghwa breathed out as he watched Yunho ride out your orgasm, licking your pussy clean. "Yeah? You want in too, hyung?" San smirked. Seonghwa bit his lip and nodded. He really seemed to be a bit more submissive towards the other boys, wondering what he would be like to you.

"Kiss first then," San stated, pulling Seonghwa closer by his neck and crashing their lips together. Fuck. You were squished between them as they made out, your pussy clenching around nothing as you got needier and needier.

Suddenly you felt two of San's thick fingers in your cunt, pushing in and out of you, making you moan out. Seonghwa reached for your pussy too, rubbing your clit with his middlefinger as San kept fucking you with his fingers. You cried out and clenched around their fingers, the pleasure being so good. ''O-Oh my fucking God,'' you moaned out as Seonghwa picked up the pace. This way you could never last long.

Before you knew it you came again, arousal seeping out of you and coating San's fingers. The boys pulled their hands away and ended the kiss and San held his fingers in front of Seonghwa's mouth, ordering him to lick them off. Seonghwa sucked San's fingers clean while looking at him so intensely as you pulled San's underwear down.

San's dick was rather girthy and thick and it nearly made you drool. Wow, fuck. You got on your knees in front of him and Seonghwa followed your lead. ''I think our hyung is a little needy for cock, don't you think?'' Yunho grinned as he sat on one of the chairs, stroking his erection through his underwear. ''Are you needy for cock, Seonghwa hyung?'' San asked, raising his right eyebrow.

Seonghwa's cheeks and ears were red, so embarrassed but God, it was so cute. ''Can I?'' Seonghwa asked with a small voice. ''Hm... What about Y/N then?'' San asked. Seonghwa thought for a few seconds until Yunho showed up naked and sat next to San. ''She can suck my cock first.''

You swallowed thickly as you saw his big cock sitting between his legs. ''Wow,'' you breathed out, ''where the fuck do you hide this thing?'' Yunho laughed and leaned back a little. ''If you suck it well enough I'll let you ride it.'' You nodded and quickly got to work.

Yunho's muscles tensed when he felt your hot, wet mouth swallow his cock. Your head bobbed up and down as you used your hands on the part you couldn't fit in your mouth. The idol threw back his head and moaned out as he watched your 'innocent' eyes look up at him.

Suddenly you heard groaning beside you as well, making you let go of Yunho's cock with a pop and watch the two men in awe. Seonghwa was sucking San's dick as if it were the sexiest porno in existance, it looked and sounded so incredibly sinful.

The slurping sounds and the moans Seonghwa let out as he gagged on San's cock made your pussy throb. San was moaning and thrusting his hips upwards, fucking his hyung's throat. You gasped as Yunho grabbed your by your hair and forced you back down on his cock. You moaned and gagged around his member as he made you choke on it, fucking your mouth just the way San was doing to Seonghwa.

Yunho and San gave each other a glance, smirking as they were abusing your throat's for their pleasure. ''Fuck, that's so good, such a good girl,'' Yunho moaned as he felt his release coming closer. ''Are you gonna cum Yunie?'' San smirked. ''Fuck yeah, gonna paint her throat all white, ah!'' he moaned out as he came deep in your throat, forcing you to swallow his seeds. You let go of his cock with a pop and you panted out.

Seonghwa was still working on San's cock, drool all over his chin and down the base of San's shaft. ''I'm gonna cum in your mouth now and you're gonna fucking take my load,'' San grunted, ''you're gonna fucking take it, okay baby?'' Seonghwa moaned around his cock before swallowing the big load that San released with a loud moan. Seonghwa panted heavily when he got off his wet cock, tears in his eyes. ''That's a good boy,'' San said as he caressed Seonghwa's hair.

''Fuck, this is the hottest thing I've ever experienced,'' you breathed out as you got on Yunho's lap, hands over his toned chest. You pushed him down to lay flat on the bed as you mounted his cock, letting it sink all the way in. You let out a long moan as you felt him stretch you out.

''I-I want all of you, please, all of you at once,'' you whimpered as you bounced lightly on Yunho's length. ''Oh? You want all of us at once? What a naughty little girl,'' Yunho smirked, ''well you heard her boys.'' ''Hm, you're one to like having all her holes filled don't ya?'' San smirked. ''You're not fucking my ass San, do you understand? You're not fucking my ass'' you said, rolling your eyes, knowing about his ass-obsession. San laughed and nodded as he got behind you. ''I promise I won't fuck your ass, only Hwa's.''

San slid his rigid cock right next to Yunho's, deep into your pussy. ''Oh-Oh my God!'' You cried out. ''What about me?'' a now naked Seonghwa asked with his boba eyes. God, those eyes. ''Kiss me,'' you whimpered, pulling him close by his hip. Seonghwa got closer and passionately kissed you on the mouth, driving you inside with his soft lips.

Yunho and San slowly started moving inside you, making you moan into Seonghwa's mouth. You took his long cock in your hand, pumping it up and down slowly, trying to match Yunho and San's pace. Seonghwa moaned along with you and bucked his hips up.

''I had no idea Seonghwa hyung was this filthy,'' Yunho smirked as he rolled his hips up into you. San and Yunho were moving faster, fucking you harder and it felt so good that you could barely keep on kissing Seonghwa. You kept moaning and moaning, eventually breaking the kiss and resting your head against his shoulder. You kept pumping his cock rapidly, earning the most beautiful moans from the boy.

''O-Oh my, you're driving me insane,'' he moaned out. ''Hmm... I always knew he was filthy, I still live with him,'' San smirked before continuing, ''He's always fucking touching himself, fucking himself, listening to us when we're jerking off, he's a little pervert,'' San smirked. Seonghwa could only nodd, whine and moan at San's words,

''I-I'm sorry, I don't wanna be a pervert,'' he cried out, ''I-I just couldn't help it!'' ''It's okay babyboy, it's okay,'' San cooed, ''I'm gonna take care of you after this.''

San's hips thrusted quickly into you, his balls softly clashing against your ass. ''Fuck, you are so good for us,'' Yunho moaned. ''Y-Yes, so good for you, so good for you, I'll fucking let you ruin me whenever you guys want I promise y-you can use my pussy,'' you moaned out. ''Oh? You want us to use your pussy as a good little fucktoy when we're on the road? Well I cannot say no to that.''

''Yes, please, please, please!'' You begged them as you kept working your hand on Seonghwa's cock. He bucked his hips up in the air and started fucking your fist, cumming all over it with a loud moan before he could even announce it.

''What a filthy boy,'' San said, smirking as he pounded into you, repeatedly hitting your g-spot. You let go of Seonghwa's cock as you felt forward onto Yunho's chest, moaning out from the friction you got on your clit. ''Oh look at you, you're close aren't you?'' Yunho said, smirking. ''Y-Yes, Yunie, yes! G-Gonna cum so hard,'' you moaned loudly. San and Yunho thrusted a few more times before they send you over the edge, making you scream out in pleasure.

Only seconds later Yunho came as well, spilling inside you with a loud moan. He pulled out of you and so did San, seeing him watch the three of you by himself. San laid Seonghwa down and smirked at the innocent-looking boy. ''Shall I fill you up now, huh?

''Y-Yes, please, please I've been wanting you for so long,'' he cried out. You and Yunho felt quite fucked out so you laid in his arms as you watched San lube up his dick and slide it into Seonghwa's puckering hole.

''I'm gonna fucking make you scream, hyung,'' he panted out as he let the older one adjust to his size. ''Please, have no mercy on me, I can take it.'' ''I know you can, I've seen that dildo underneath your bed,'' San smirked. Seonghwa's eyes grew wide as San moved inside him, starting off with a rough and fast pace.

He already earned so many sinful, slutty moans from him, making you think that Seonghwa went in the wrong entertainment business cause damn he was sexier and hotter than any pornstar you've ever seen.

''Yeah, you like that baby?'' he smirked as he plunged deeper inside him. San grabbed Seonghwa's cock and jerked it off as he kept fucking him, turning him into a moaning mess. ''I-I'm not gonna last long like this!'' Seonghwa moaned out, ''Your cock is too good, too fucking good!''

San smirked and absolutely went nuts inside him, ramming his cock deep inside him and letting out the most animalistic groans. ''Fuck me, fuck me hard, give me your cum, please!'' Seonghwa begged. With a few more jerks of his hips San released inside Seonghwa, moaning out his name.

Seonghwa moaned louder as he felt his orgasm approach, clenching down on San's cock, milking him dry. San's dom facade slowly broke down as his pleasure took over and watched Seonghwa unravel beneath him, spilling all over his hand and abs.

After getting cleaned up you wished the boys good night before getting back to your own hotelroom, rethinking the shenanigans of earlier and you couldn't help but smile. This was definitely not gonna be the last time this was happening.

What happens in London, doesn't stay back in London. It's comin' back home, you thought.

#kpop #ateez #smut #seonghwa #san #yunho #shinestarhwaa's promptlist❤️#shinestarhwaa

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lightlycareless · 3 months

Note

I’d love to know how Naoya would handle sleepless nights with a crying baby. I can imagine he’d naturally get frustrated if it’s been ongoing for a while and the frustration would most likely manifest in how he handles his feelings of helplessness in his ability to soothe his baby. Idk, Naoya trying really hard to take care of his baby but struggling is just so cute to me.

Hello anon! agjhajkhajkgaggaha aaaa thank you so much for sending in this ask!!! It was the perfect excuse to develop something I think Naoya would feel/develop when having a family with you :>

I won't say much, just let you read the whole thing hehe.

anyways, here are the warnings: none. a bit of fluff. naoya is a frustrated, insecure father. but he's a good man now so. (also we're back with baby Naomi ❤️❤️)

happy reading!

Naoya is frustrated.

And not just with the baby crying or being woken up by it—but with everything.

He knew that having a child was not going to be an easy feat, no one told him it would be, even expecting this to become the most difficult endeavor of his life, even bigger than what his career as a sorcerer entailed.

Yet, no amount of research, advice, even classes could’ve prepared him for the real deal.

Naoya considered himself very lucky to have a wife and mother as loving and attentive as you to support him in this new stage of his life, but even when you were willing to stay home and take care of Naomi while he went out to work, he still wanted to be there, spend time with you, the baby, feed her, change her, take her out for walks, spoil her—be the father he never had.

But life wasn’t to be that giving to him, and he’d soon face the consequences of his extended absence, the main reason of his current frustration: starting from Naomi’s occasional unfamiliarity towards him, to his inexperience dealing with her sleepless night.

He could’ve let you handle it, let you get up from the futon as he continued sleeping, but he’d seen it in your eyes—the exhaustion, the continuous commitment you had to your daughter and what little it allowed you to rest or do anything for yourself, really.

Naoya was eternally grateful for all you’ve done for this newfound family, and for him, so and wanting to show his appreciation, he’s decided to get off futon the moment Naomi started crying, stop you on your tracks, in favor of him tending to her.

Only to find himself regretful, useless, and upset, that he didn’t know how to ease her cries.

“Naomi, pumpkin…” Naoya would coo, gently taking her into his arms and resting her small head against his shoulders. He never gets used to this sensation, how small and delicate she was against him. “Don’t cry, papa is here.”

The baby continues to cry, still irked by something he has yet to figure out—clearly unsettled by the man who proclaimed to be her father.

He didn’t want to admit it, didn’t want to say it out loud and make his shame even bigger, but he couldn’t cower in fear anymore.

To see Naomi openly deny him, highlighting his lacking presence as a father, alongside his ignorance in these affairs, was the greatest pain he’d ever experienced.

It wasn’t fair that his responsibilities often pulled him away from the two; even when he did his best to earn a small “leave” to be able to support you after childbirth, it was very limited, almost inexistent, and from what he overheard from your staff, very, very difficult for you too.

Naoya felt ashamed to be called your husband, preach how much he loves you, and now Naomi, yet rarely be there alongside you.

But even then, you never reproached him. Not as harshly as he thought deserving. Instead, you’d reassure him that though you missed him, understood how invasive his job could be—having been raised in a similar setting— and how you knew what you were getting into when marrying him.

And most importantly: that Naomi loved him as her father and would grow to appreciate his sacrifices in due time.

Yet… his doubts remain; unsure if your words could be taken as truth, or if he’ll be able to swallow his anguish until then, because seeing her like, putting up a fight when he was trying to put her back to sleep…

Makes him feel like a failure of a father, the last thing he wanted to be in his family.

“Naomi, please—don’t cry, mama is trying to sleep.” Naoya would insist, as if she’d understood his words, or perhaps hoped she would. Naomi, of course, didn’t. “What do you want? Do you want to eat?”

She cries.

“Maybe a change of diapers?”

He checks—no. Nothing. Naomi simply continues wailing.

“I don’t know what you want.” Naoya laments, dissatisfaction in his voice. “In fact, I don’t know anything about you—or what you like. I don’t know your favorite color, your favorite plushie, if you prefer to go on walks or stay home with your mom…

But I know you’d prefer her to me right now, don’t you? Because you don’t know me either. I may be your father, but given how much I’m away, I could be a total stranger and it would make no difference to you.”

“Yet, you’re not—you are her father.” You suddenly appear, Naoya’s eyes swiftly dart over to you, confused, and perhaps bit annoyed.

“Why are you here? I told you I’d take—”

“Because I just remembered this is your first time putting Naomi to sleep when she can’t” you respond, walking over to him. “And I thought I’d be nice to tell you what I do.”

“…I’m supposed to know what to do.”

“Maybe, but there’s nothing wrong in asking for help.”

“That’s all I’ve asking from you, Y/N. Help.” He frowns. “I ought to know how to do something about this.”

“While the help is always appreciated, I never expected you to know everything… Not even I know it, and this is all I’ve been focused on!” you say, trying to cheer him up, but his remorseful eyes let you know he isn’t, not even close. “You’re great father, Naoya. Doing your best—that’s all that matters.”

“What good of a father can I be if my own daughter is like because of me?”

“I’ve heard her cry when she doesn’t like something—this is not one of those times.” You respond.

“Then what is it?” he asks. “Why is Naomi crying?”

“There’s really a lot of reasons, but according to what Junko-san has told me, and the doctor, she could be hungry, have a leaky diaper, or… a nightmare.”

“A nightmare?” Naoya repeats. “She can have nightmares?”

“I don’t know, I suppose so, if it isn’t anything else.” You shrug, and a sudden wave of protectiveness washes over Naoya.

“How do I comfort her?”

You smile.

“I sometimes like to hum her a lullaby or tell her a story.” You begin. “Sway a bit too, Naomi really likes when you do that. She often falls asleep after that.”

“How do you do it?” Naoya asks quickly.

“Here, let me show you.”

Naoya is nothing but attentive to your explanations, the way you’d hold Naomi against your chest, how you’d softly hum her a nursery rhyme while gently patting her back—things that while didn’t seem to work, given the way she kept crying, didn’t sway you from continuing; in turn making him grow a bit nervous, doubt his own capabilities…

But he’d push through them either way, and once he thought himself well prepared (although very nervous) Naoya takes Naomi onto her arms, accommodating her against his chest, hand on her back, as he begins to hum a song he suddenly remembered from his childhood—one he thought long forgotten, but worked to soothe him eitherway.

Your husband didn’t think it would work, didn’t have faith that he’d be able to do as good as a job as you’d done until now, but he still tried, he kept moving forward even when Naomi’s cries echoed in the room and his insecurities prickled at the back of his mind…

Because at the end of the day, this isn’t about what he needs.

It’s about what Naomi deserves.

A present father, a trying father. Not one that would discard him onto the nannies or the mother, and only appear when it was suitable for him, perhaps even less…

He’s experienced that pain, that solitude, which clung to him well into his adulthood and barely managed to free himself of it thanks to your care—and it’s something he never wishes his daughter to live through.

No matter the obstacles, Naoya has long decided, from the moment you announced your pregnancy—no, when he realized he loved you, that he will do everything in his power to be there for the two. Even if his duties keep pushing him away for long periods of times, even if Naomi sometimes doesn’t like being with him… this is the least he could do.

“Look, Naoya!” you whisper excitedly. “She’s falling asleep already!”

He blinks, carefully looking down to her chubby face, quickly realizing she was indeed starting to feel drowsy, cries slowly quieting down as he lets out a squeaky yawn, a sound that makes both your and his heart clench with adoration, grinning at the sight. “Y/N, she is!”

“I told you you’d be able to do it.” You cheer silently. “Naomi loves her papa very much, after all.”

“She does…?” Naoya hesitantly asks, looking up to you. You nod.

“Of course, she does, you should see…” you suddenly yawn, perhaps inspired by your daughter. “You should see how happy she gets when you videocall us!”

“Really?” He beams, perhaps a bit too loud for the baby’s liking, Naomi whines. “Oh, sorry pumpkin.”

You chuckle.

“You should start putting her on the crib, so she doesn’t wake up when you move her.” You suggest, and Naoya nods before heading over to the crib, carefully peeling her away from him, laying her down on the soft mattress—thankful that she doesn’t begin to cry again while doing so—eventually covering her with the blankets, keeping her warm and safe from the harshness of the night.

At the sight of his adorable baby resting, chest slowly rising and falling, indications that she’s finally fallen asleep, Naoya can’t help but smile and gently caress her cheeks, before leaning down to kiss her on the top of her head.

“Goodnight, Naomi.” He whispers, Naomi gurgles. “Papa loves you very much.”

And the silence of the night, while lovingly admiring his daughter, a question crosses Naoya’s mind.

“… Does she really love me?” Your husband asks, going back to the previous subject.

“Yes, there’s no denying it.” you slowly say. “She… loves you…”

Naoya smiles.

“I was worried I wouldn’t be able to get her back to sleep.” He adds. “But… I guess she isn’t as afraid of me, or at all.”

“Hmm…”

“Thank you so much for everything, Y/N. You’ve done so much for our family; I don’t think I’ll ever be able to repay you for it.” Naoya adds, cooing at the adorable way Naomi gently frowns, before turning back to you and heading back to the bedroom. “Anything you want, whatever you need, I’ll do it—just say the word and I’ll—"

Only to find you were already asleep, leaning back on the nearby rocking chair, exhaustion completely taking over your senses.

He chuckles.

You were exhausted too, that much he could see underneath the dim light of the moon, and while he feels a bit ashamed you still had to come to aid him, it is nothing compared to the love and appreciation he feels for you, as well as the reassuring words you gave him towards his doubts.

Naoya quickly heads over to you, carefully picking you up from the chair and carrying you all the way back to the bedroom, where he’d place you over the futon, underneath the blankets before cuddling up against you; taking in your warmth and scent that doesn’t take long to lull him into sleep, but not without sighing, giving your head one last kiss, before expressing the only sentiment he’s ever felt for you the moment his eyes laid on you.

“Goodnight, Y/N. I love you.”

him feeling useless because he's somewhat of an absent (although not voluntarily) father and hating how sometimes naomi doesn't feel that familiar/comfortable with him is 😭😭😭 ugh I'm out here humanizing naoya.

anyways, I hope you liked my take on it 🥺 this was really sweet and a bit sad to write, but enjoyable nonetheless!!

Thank you so much for sending in this ask, ajhgagjkakajgagjjak keep feeding my domestic needs... i dare you....

take care, and hope to see you soon!!!

#naoya zenin #naoya zen'in #naoya x reader #naoya zenin x reader #naoya zenin x you #jjk naoya #naoya zen'in x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x you #prompt series: jujutsu kaisen #ask

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feeder86 · 1 year

Text

Shame

Greg had been desperately in love with Bill. It was a head over heels, all encompassing, world-absorbing sort of love for him after they had met at a bear bar downtown one year ago. Bill had been older; quite a bit older in fact. However, that hadn’t been the quality that had raised the most eyebrows. Bill’s size, his enormous, giant belly and overall spherical shape had made people question what a good-looking twenty-one year old like Greg had seen in him. Sure, Bill was grumpy and not especially interested in many of the things that Greg was into, but he was good looking and beautifully fat. At almost four hundred pounds, Greg felt proud that Bill was usually larger than most other guys they met. He loved rubbing the enormous gut and admiring the hefty, thick butt on his man.

A ‘chubby chaser’; that was the phrase Bill always used to describe Greg and, for the most part, he was happy to go along with it. How else was a guy in his late forties going to score a sexy young guy like Greg unless he embraced the part of him that his lover found so unrelentingly appealing?

Greg was starting off on his career after college and, for the first time in his life, he actually had some real money in his bank account. He’d gone about dispersing it like there was no tomorrow, spending, spending, spending as much as he could to show Bill how special he was to him. No cute oversized shirt was bypassed when he went shopping and Bill often found himself returning home to find the refrigerator stocked with plenty of delicious snacks for him to eat.

In those days, Greg had been living in a small, tired-looking house at the edge of town. He managed to buy it outright, using an inheritance he’d had some time before, when he’d lost both of his parents in a car accident, back when he was first away at college. That had been tough. But, despite the circumstances, Greg knew he was lucky to have a place of his own at such a young age. Although, the joys of property maintenance were soon to find him. Within a couple of months of moving in, it was clear that the house was goign to need a lot of money spending on it. Greg knew nothing about DIY and his four hundred pound boyfriend was even less interested in helping him out.

Jeff’s add in the local paper had caught Greg’s attention, mainly because of the cheap hourly rate he was offering. When he arrived at the door, Greg could definitely see why. Jeff was barely nineteen years old and trying to make a living in construction and as a general handyman. He had the look of a guy who had been a fair athlete in school; tall, broad-chested and with tight little glutes that pressed temptingly against the fabric of his cute work shorts. Like a dirty old man, Bill had been fast to point out how attractive he thought Greg’s new hired worker was. He sat on Greg’s couch, admiring the handsome boy’s physique as he strutted in and out of the house, back and forth to his van for more tools.

Trying to fight the urge to feel jealous and inadequate, Greg did his best to laugh along and go with it. After all, what harm could his boyfriend’s innocent crush on a nineteen year old straight guy really do? Plus, he had to admit, he’d developed quite the soft spot for Jeff himself, despite being quite some way off his usual ‘type’. Perhaps it was that handsome face, deep voice, pleasant manner and overall skill that he had in working with his hands. Whatever it was, as the time went on and Jeff spent more and more time at the house, Greg couldn’t deny that he’d been thinking about his handyman, rather than his actual boyfriend when they’d had sex on occasion.

Things hadn’t lasted with Bill. For that, Greg blamed himself entirely. Bill had been quite clear when he said that he was fine with his size, but that he didn’t want to get any bigger. However, Greg simply hadn’t been able to help himself. He’d pampered and overcatered for his larger boyfriend until the inevitable pounds came piling on, bloating Bill to almost 450lbs before he finally had enough of Greg and ended things when he got offered the chance for a big career move.

To say that Greg had been heartbroken would have been the greatest of understatements. He remembered not being able to eat, not wanting to go outside and certainly not imagining any sort of future for himself. But time didn’t stop for a broken heart. Those desolate weeks of despair rolled on, turning to months and then years. Greg built his career and was soon thinking about moving from that poky little house he had once loved so much.

Choosing a new place that needed a little work didn’t phase Greg in the slightest. Knowing how well Jeff had worked last time, he hadn’t hesitated giving him a call the moment his offer had been accepted. Sure, the guy’s day-rate had gone up somewhat, given his experience and the demand for him around town, but there was no way that Greg could imagine anyone else doing it. When he turned up, that familiar, breathless attraction that Greg had felt a few years before came fluttering back. It seemed like the physical work had agreed with Jeff immensely. He had bulked up into a more muscular frame. His tight, glutes had morphed into a large, muscular butt and his enormous chest had become defined with bulging pecs and festooned by strapping shoulders. Greg’s eyes flared with interest when he caught sight of the large biceps Jeff had acquired, that pretty face only growing more handsome with age.

Jeff was now well known around town and it was clear that Greg was unlikely to be the only homeowner with a crush on him. When they spoke, Jeff had been sad to learn that Greg and Bill hadn’t lasted long and seemed to remember the days of working on Greg’s first house with some fondness.

“I thought you two were very well suited,” the handsome guy smiled.

“Well, you were the only one then,” Greg chuckled.

“You absolutely worshipped the ground he walked on,” Jeff continued, sympathetically.

“I think that was sort of the problem,” Greg sighed, remembering how frustrated Bill had become towards the end with Greg’s endless fussing and overfeeding of him.

“His loss,” Jeff smiled, giving Greg a quick, friendly slap on his back. “One day, I’m sure he’ll look back and realise how good he actually had it with you.”

Greg smiled too, remembering how his chats with Jeff had always made him feel better about himself. Jeff didn’t say things just to make others like him. As a foster kid, he seemed to relate to Greg better than most, given how they were both lacking in families as adults. Without a comforting safety net of a loving nest to return to when needed, they’d both had to develop that drive and independence that they each admired about the other. They both knew that life was only ever going to be what they themselves made of it.

Jeff had married about two years later. It had been a small affair, although Greg had seen a few pictures of the day online. His new wife had looked stunning, as had Jeff, dressed immaculately in a sharp suit that perfectly displayed his even more strapping and muscular physique. They could have both just strolled off a catwalk, and no doubt that others thought the same. Perhaps that was part of the reason why what happened next was such a shock.

Greg had known for some time that he wanted to get into the rental market. Owning somewhere he could let out just made so much financial sense, so of course he was on the phone to Jeff as soon as the deal was going through on a two-bedroom place downtown. From the moment the handsome guy climbed out of his truck, it was obvious that there had been some rather telling changes to the man’s lifestyle. From out of nowhere, Jeff was suddenly looking very husky indeed. His clothes, the work shorts and t-shirt, were obviously too small for him. The material across his chest showed how ruggedly strong and capable he was, yet it clung, rather unflatteringly, to a meatier middle where a six pack clearly hadn’t been for some time. As for his shorts, well they looked downright uncomfortable, pinching him at the hips and pressing so far in that they gave him lovehandles; actual lovehandles on a guy like Jeff! All the attraction Greg had ever had for Jeff suddenly paled in comparison to the burning lust that he felt now. Only in his mid twenties and already this superb, strong and overfed dadbod had kicked in!

They surveyed the house together, Greg happy to let Jeff lead the way so that he could stare at the enlarged, softer looking glutes; so much different to how they had been when Greg had first met the man. When Jeff bent down, Greg got an eyeful of his buttcrack too. Every item of clothing on his body seemed to be crying out in misery, unable to cope with the most likely thirty to forty pounds of fat that Jeff had gained since getting married.

“So, how is married life treating you?” Greg asked at long last, after all the boring rough costs were drawn up.

Jeff scratched the back of his head and grimaced. “Fine,” he mumbled.

Greg frowned. “You sure?” he asked, sensing from Jeff’s sudden awkwardness that something wasn’t quite right.

“I’m just not used to being part of a couple,” Jeff began. “The wedding, getting married; it was all a bit of a whirlwind. As an adult, I’m not used to someone putting restrictions on what I can and can’t do. I’m used to being my own man.”

“Are you saying you find her a little bossy?” Greg asked.

“Not bossy so much…” Jeff replied, obviously still trying to think of how to phrase what he wanted to say. “I’ve always been a bit of a lone rider. It was how I kept sane as a kid, going from foster home to foster home. She wants me to go to the gym with her all the time and she tries to keep tabs on what I’m eating. I just… I don’t like it. When I get home these days, I just want to crash on the couch and have a few beers; like most guys do.”

Greg nodded. “That seems fair enough.” Suddenly, Jeff's thicker, meatier stomach was starting to all make sense.

“I don’t know,” Jeff shrugged at last. “I know I’m pretty lazy around the house. I’m sure I must be hard to live with too.”

“You’ll work it out, I’m sure,” Greg offered consolingly.

Jeff nodded slowly, but the look on his face was strange; as if he didn’t really care; as if, after only a couple of years, the guy was already taking a step out the door of his marriage.

Having Jeff work on a place that wasn’t Greg’s home was a new experience for him. Jeff had kindly set aside six weeks and Greg planned to pop in each afternoon during a break from work, just to check on progress. He’d learned ways to keep Jeff happy during their previous projects and he arrived each time with Jeff’s favourite creamy latte. He kept a cookie jar in the house and was surprised to see that Jeff was easily going through an entire pack each day, leaving only crumbs in the bottom. No wonder the guy had been piling on the pounds, Greg thought to himself, trying to keep his attraction to Jeff under some sort of control. Having a crush on a straight guy was never going to lead anywhere, Greg knew. But the lust and the affection he’d developed for Jeff over the years was seeming to boil over into a monstrous adoration of him.

It was happening again. Greg’s crush was driving him to the same sticky place that he’d been to with his ex. He’d bought a refrigerator and filled it with sodas so that Jeff would always have something if he was thirsty. An old microwave was taken there and easy meals stuffed into the freezer, along with anything tasty the besotted Greg imagined the handy guy might like. He was being overbearing; he knew he was. But, for whatever reason, Greg just felt like he couldn’t help it. Then, whenever he popped over and saw so many of the supplies had been used up, he felt reinforced somehow; heading over to the store to pick up even more to restock it all.

By the end of the project, Greg noticed that Jeff’s face had seemed to change slightly. His cheeks were puffier and his jawline softer. It seemed like fat was actually spreading into his neck. He’d put on weight, no doubt about it.

“Well, I’m sure whoever rents this place off you is going to love living here,” Jeff stated, looking around the kitchen one final time and giving Greg a good look at his obviously thicker butt and fuller love handles. “This is exactly the sort of place I would have rented before I got married. Somewhere nice and quiet.”

Greg smiled, sensing that Jeff was still longing for that feeling of freedom and independence that he felt he had somehow lost. Perhaps, if Greg hadn’t already found someone to rent it, he may have quietly offered it to Jeff himself. But then again, maybe he would only have been sticking his nose in where it wasn’t wanted.

It was about eighteen months until Greg and Jeff spoke next. The guy’s name popped up on Greg’s cell phone as it rang, making his heart flutter with the lust that never seemed to leave him. Jeff had spotted another house downtown that he thought Greg might have been interested in as another rental; offering to meet him there to show him the place.

Like a lovesick puppy, Greg had jumped at the chance, feeling the blood pumping to his penis the entire time he was driving down there. Then, suddenly, Jeff was standing outside the property, waiting for him.

Safely inside his car, Greg growled in lustful appreciation. Jeff now looked even hotter than ever. Although not an extreme amount, it was obvious that Jeff was still continuing to put on weight. His little meaty stomach had seemed to solidify and push itself out more, forming a genuine little gut under his handsome pecs. The protrusion of it was quite clear, especially from the side, where the overall width of Jeff could be fully appreciated alongside the more developed ass on him. It was clear that he hadn’t been on a treadmill in quite some time.

Jeff had been right, the house had been undervalued, but even the rough quotes he was coming up with to do the place up seemed too good to be true. “But, this is at least three months’ work!” Greg gasped when he saw the ridiculously low amount Jeff was asking for to do it all.

“Well, truth is, I’m a little hard up at the moment. I need the work,” Jeff finally shrugged. “Never get married,” he sighed. “The divorce is unbelievably expensive!”

Greg offered his sympathies, although he couldn’t say he was all that surprised. However, it was exactly these types of cases where Greg also excelled, and he was soon launching into a pep talk to Jeff, explaining that he shouldn’t sell himself short just because he was a little strapped for cash. “I bet there are loads of ways we could make your business more profitable,” he went on, getting carried away. That old need to help Jeff wherever he could was always there. Now, as an accountant and business consultant, he really could offer something to the man that most people couldn’t.

“I can’t afford to hire someone else!” Jeff scoffed as he and Greg looked over his books a few nights later.

“You’ll get jobs done faster and it means you can take on bigger projects,” Greg pressed on, having researched, in some detail, the business model he felt would work best for Jeff. “Find someone young and cheap. Someone just getting started. Then you can train them up and give them the sort of opportunity that you would have wanted, back in the day.”

Jeff hadn’t been convinced, but by the end of their second rental project together, another young guy, called Sam, had joined Jeff’s new team. Young, lanky and fresh-faced, the eighteen year old Sam had been surprisingly keen and dedicated to the opportunity he had been given. During that last week, the two of them had worked with incredible speed to get the house finished in time for a new tennant to take the place. That was even with the sweltering summer heat that boiled the rooms like an oven.

Greg, who had been getting twitchy about the looming completion date, had been there every day, restocking the guys’ supplies and checking on progress. Overcome with the heat, a sweaty Jeff had been strutting around without a shirt for most of the week, sipping on the bottomless supplies of soda Greg provided. That firm, ball-like gut on the guy had come such a long way since Greg had first met the man eight years ago. His belly button had some real depth to it; a ripple of fat rolling through his love handles as he plodded lethargically about. It was clear that whatever Greg had assumed to be pecs hadn’t been so for quite some time. In reality, Jeff’s chest was surprisingly coated in fat; his nipples just about to beome more pointed and supple. In this state of undress, it was obvious how the fat was starting to wrap itself around Jeff’s body, spreading itself all over and softening the once athletic physique. Then there was that sweaty sheen all over his skin, the musky lure of an overfed man, hard at work. In other words, Greg had never been more aroused in his entire life.

By taking on Jeff’s financial work, Greg and Jeff were now in regular contact. Despite having so much knowledge on all things to do with building and repair work, Jeff had been missing out on so many opportunities to reduce his annual tax bill by simply just not knowing what he was entitled to. Jeff had been so grateful when his tax return came back in that he’d offered to take on a couple of days repair work at one of Greg’s properties, free of charge.

“I didn’t know you were hiring someone new?” Greg asked, stopping by to pick up some papers from Jeff as they worked on a project in the next town. He tried not to be distracted, watching Jeff eating his enormous sandwich as they returned to his truck for a second. The sight of Jeff eating had always done it for him; those enormous mouthfuls, the way he ripped into things and swallowed it all down with such speed. Back when he was so strapping and lean, it had seemed manly and purposeful. Now, however, it had been unmasked as pure, beautful greed.

“Well, things are going pretty well,” Jeff nodded. He’d developed a stoutness to him and a way of carrying himself that clearly identified him as the boss. His boyishness had gone entirely and the spherical bulge in his stomach seemed to be marching ever onwards. “Sam and I can’t handle all the work we’ve got coming in. Plus, Sam’s not quite as agile as he used to be.” With that, he nodded over at the worker, busily shoveling sand into the mixer. It was obvious what Jeff was referring to; the flabby looking love handles that were sneaking out of Sam’s tight t-shirt and the sweaty butt crack that was coming into view.

“I’m guessing you’ve not had a healthy influence on him then?” Greg joked.

“It seems not,” Jeff agreed, shaking his head with slight disapproval at the wider butt on his employee. “That’s exactly what his mom says as well. I mean, I know I overeat,” he admitted, rubbing his large stomach and ripping into even more of his sandwich. “I have a taste for pretty much everything that’s not good for me. But I was still pretty fit when I was his age,” he grumbled. “Anyway, the new guy seems to be working out well. He’s Sam’s younger brother, so I sort of know what I’m getting.”

Greg nodded, slipping his hand into his pocket to hold down the boner that he knew could potentially press itself against the crotch of his pants. He took the papers he needed and headed back to his car, trying to distract his mind, factoring in the new costs for Jeff’s growing business.

It was amazing how many people seemed to actively try to make Greg feel like a failure for reaching his early thirties and remaining single. He’d stayed fit and toned, so there was certainly no reason why people thought he should still be on his own. Sure, he’d had plenty of flings, but he had never been captured or overcome with love by any of the men he had dated. In fact, it was only ever Jeff who seemed to celebrate being a bachelor, and his enthusiasm for not being tied down in life was almost infectious. Everything he did seemed to be a celebration of being divorced: the way he ate what he wanted on site all day and how he didn’t care how scruffy he looked. He grinned, telling Greg that he was heading home to drink his beer, order take-out and sit on his ass all night watching football; as if he was living the dream.

At some point, Jeff had crossed the point from which he had been simply stout and overweight, to becoming something much more. Perhaps it was the sheer size of his stomach that had changed things; the way he carried the fat around his neck, or the total absence of the muscle that had once dominated his body. Maybe it was the way he walked now, or the constant presence of something tasty in his hands. It could have been the awkward fit of his clothes, or the width of his under exercised butt. But, whatever it was, it seemed like Jeff had become a very large man indeed. No matter the time of year, he wore sweat shorts that showed off his large calf muscles, well used to carrying around his hefty bulk. The lower sections of his belly frequently crept into view when he worked, along with his deep, always sweaty butt crack.

Jeff’s team had grown, in more ways than one. With Greg’s business advice and investment, the big man now hired a team of four other guys. Sam, who had been with him the longest, had become remarkably flabby and soft-looking, as had his younger brother. The two other guys hired by Jeff were both older and with more skills to bring to the business. They were both married and in their early thirties. When Greg had met them initially, he had been surprised by how much their athletic bodies contrasted and highlighted how large and obese their boss had become. Now, however, even they seemed to be getting rather thick around their middles; as if simply working with greedy Jeff led to an inevitable weight gain.

“These books are looking very healthy!” Greg smiled, seeing how much money Jeff’s blossoming business was taking in; even with the very generous wages he paid his workers.

Jeff nodded, chewing on his third doughnut from the box that Greg would always remember to bring with him whenever he met up with Jeff each month. He knew full well that there would not be a single one left within ten minutes, and that he would probably have to hide his crotch as a result. The big man had arrived, showing off his enormous new truck which he hadn’t yet littered with take-out cartons and boxes, nor dirtied with mud and dust.

“So where do we go next?” Jeff asked, mumbling with his mouth full. “All I seem to do these days is price up quotes for people. It’s insane how much work is coming in.”

“Well, that’s exactly what we want,” Greg smiled keenly. “The business needs to evolve like this now. We’re hiring more guys, so it’s time for you to become more of the overseer of things. And, maybe in a few months, we could even hire someone to take over the admin around these quotes for you.”

“Jeez!” Jeff chuckled. “I already take home more money than I ever anticipated each month and now it sounds like I’m going to be able to sit on my fat ass full time!”

“Well, that’s my plan!” Greg smiled, delighted with how far he had helped Jeff take his business in the seven years since he had worked as the business manager. “We want to make sure this company gives you a solid income for years to come and allow you some time to enjoy yourself a little more.”

Jeff paused for a moment. “You know, no one has ever done more for me than you have,” he stated. Greg had been the first person he’d asked to invest in his business and their fifty/fifty shared ownership had been nothing but harmonious. “Your house was the first major project I took on when I was nineteen. I never imagined that we would still be working together after all these years. You’ve really looked after me.”

Greg smiled at the sentiment. “We look after each other,” he offered in return. “You’ve trusted me every step of the way. There’s no way I would have all this,” he explained, looking around the plush office space he occupied, “without all the business clients you sent my way over the years.”

Jeff seemed to consider Greg’s comments. “Yeah, I guess you could say that we have each other’s backs,” he nodded in agreement. Then he smiled at Greg; his friend and best adviser. It was an affection that neither of them had ever before encountered in their work lives.

Having spent the majority of his adult life alone, Greg knew that the time had come for him to settle down with someone. As much as he listened to Jeff going on and on about how delighted he was to be living the single life, the reality for Greg was… loneliness. He felt like Ebenezer Scrooge, counting up his money and coming home to a cold, empty house every evening. For the first time ever, he accepted a work acquaintance’s offer to set him up on a blind date and, when that went well, he suddenly found himself slowly rolling into a real relationship for the first time since he was in his early twenties.

On paper, Steve was the perfect guy for him, sharing all of his interests and sense of humour. He was attractive, athletic, being of a similar age, in his mid thirties, and very much financially stable. Everyone in Greg’s life found him to be delightful. They commented on how well suited they both were, how Greg had seemed to come to life whenever Steve was around. And, for the most part, Greg absolutely agreed, even though he knew that spark hadn’t been there for him initially. In fact, within Greg’s entire circle, there was only one person who didn’t seem to approve of Steve…

“That fat asshole tried to call over and see you before,” Steve grumbled, putting away some of the things Greg had brought back from the supermarket. “Something about how he’s sorted the new digger,” he went on. “Why he couldn’t just message you, I have no idea.”

“He drives by here on the way home,” Greg explained. “He finds it easier to just call in and let me know things like that. I hope you were polite?” he asked, warningly.

“I was… courteous,” Steve considered. “It’s hard though. As soon as he saw it was me answering the door he pulled this face and rolled his eyes. I’ve never come across someone so fucking rude in my entire life!” “He wouldn’t have meant to be rude,” Greg tried. “He was probably just tired.”

“Oh, I’m sure he was tired,” Steve agreed. “I think anyone would be exhausted lugging that massive gut of his around all day.” He shuddered in disgust. “It was even hanging out a little from the bottom of his t-shirt today. Like… does the guy never look in a mirror? Still, at least he was wearing a shirt today, I guess,” he mumbled, pretending to suppress the urge to gag.

Greg grumbled inside. Steve was so great in many different ways, however he seemed to have a strange, zero-tolerance towards those he considered to be not looking after themselves. “Maybe this is why Jeff isn’t very fond of you,” Greg replied, deciding not to be upset that two of the most important guys in his life looked set to clash for the rest of their lives.

“How’s the jerk?” Jeff asked, leaning back against the kitchen cupboard of an empty house he had brought Greg over to see as a potential new acquisition for their shared property rental empire. “You haven’t asked him to move in yet, have you? You know that’s just a slippery slope?”

Greg sighed. He was sick of feeling like the go-between. “We’re not moving in together,” he stated reassuringly for Jeff. He listened a little longer as Jeff explained how rude Steve had been to him the last time they had to be in the room together. It was the complete opposite of the story as told by Steve, but Greg had long since given up trying to work out which of them was lying; deciding that they both exaggerated and stretched the truth. “Look, I know you don’t like Steve and that’s not going to change. But… isn’t it enough for you that I love him?”

Jeff’s face filled with an unexpected smile. “I would be totally on-board if I believed that you loved him. Believe me, I’d be backing you one hundred percent if I thought that was the case.”

“But I do love him,” Greg shot back. “We’ve been together almost a year.”

Jeff shook his head in complete refusal. “No… I’ve seen you in love. I remember how you were when I first met you. You were besotted with Bill in a way that I’ve never seen with anyone else before.”

“I was a naive twenty-one year old!” Greg chuckled back. “Of course I was head over heels in love with the guy.”

“So, what? Now we’re older we don’t get to have those feelings anymore? Now you just have to settle for Mr Generic?”

“He’s not generic!” Greg sighed, sick of hearing Jeff using that word to describe his boyfriend.

“I remember thinking what a lucky guy Bill was. The way you looked at him like he was the centre of your universe. Even when I saw Bill getting fatter and fatter, you were still all over him. You didn’t care about any of his faults, you just loved him for who he was; completely. I thought that I would get that when I got married. But, no, I just got nagged to death and put on one insane diet after another. You never would have done that with Bill.”

“No, but… all couples have different priorities,” Greg tried to reason. “I really don’t think you should use that one experience as a reason to be on your own for the rest of your life.”

“I’m fat, super-greedy and extemely lazy,” Jeff stated bluntly, rubbing his giant stomach at the same time. “When I was younger, I used to think the gym was the best place on Earth. Now I order take-out at least five times a week, I can eat an entire cheesecake to myself in one sitting, currently weigh over 420lbs and dislike most forms of exercise. Who is going to look at me and not want to change any of those things?”

Greg stood silent for a moment. Perhaps it was his weariness at the whole situation that made his inhibitions retreat, but after eighteen years of lusting after Jeff, perhaps it was no surprise. Jeff was right. He didn’t love Steve. Not in the way he had loved Jeff for all these years. “I wouldn’t,” he whispered.”I’d love you no matter what.”

Jeff held Greg’s stare, seeming to appreciate the momentousness of what had been said. He inhaled, then sighed, shaking his head. “I think we’re both just tired,” he mumbled, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought Steve up. Let’s just check in tomorrow to make a decision about this place,” he rambled, already starting to walk away; the shoddy floorboards creaking under his massive bulk.

Greg looked down, feeling more dejected than he had even been in his entire life.

“Let’s have a working lunch and thrash out how we want to approach the house purchase,” a surprisingly upbeat Jeff announced, coming into Greg’s office the next day. It was clear from his appearance that he wasn’t working with the other guys that morning, dressed as he was in an overly tight shirt that he clearly hadn’t had the opportunity to wear in the last fifty pounds or so. “Come on. What do you say? I am your most important business partner after all.”

Greg smiled, relieved that Jeff was putting in an effort to make him feel at ease after his confession the evening before. Jeff didn’t need to ask him to cancel his other appointments; Greg would have done anything to settle their awkwardness; absolutely anything.

“I love this place,” Jeff smiled, inhaling the grease in the air and looking around at the dated decor as they sat beside each other at the main counter. “I come here all the time. It’s the best food going.”

Greg couldn’t exactly see the appeal as he looked around the haggard looking restaurant and felt the greasy countertop under his fingertips. “If you love it, I love it,” he smiled, pleased to see Jeff looking so in his element.

“What do you think I should order?” the big man asked Greg, passing over the large laminated menu; the drinks section partially obscured by dried tomato sauce.

As soon as Greg started reading, he could see why Jeff loved it so much here. He started listing off the things he knew Jeff loved and found the fat man’s enthusiasm starting to rub off on him. He poured through the side orders and had suddenly constructed a large combination of dishes that he believed Jeff would enjoy that lunchtime.

“You really think I can eat all that?” Jeff asked, raising an eyebrow.

Greg scoffed. “Who are you kidding?” he chuckled. “That’s a light snack for you!”

At that, Jeff smiled too. A large, broad and genuine smile that filled his fattened, rounded face. “This is Greg, my business manager,” he explained later to an older waitress who came over to collect their order. It seemed that she knew Jeff extremely well from his many visits here, and she showed a genuine interest in meeting Greg. “Marla’s been here for years,” Jeff went on, smiling with affection towards the older lady, as if she had become a long lost mother figure for him.

“Jeff is my favourite customer,” the lady smiled back, putting her thin arm over Jeff’s broad back and rubbing it briefly. She didn’t bat an eyelid at the amount of food he was ordering and seemed to know exactly how the obese glutton would want it all cooked.

“Marla’s great!” Jeff went on after the lady had disappeared into the kitchens. “I used to come here after the gym, even before I got married.”

“Wow, she really has known you a long time!” Greg agreed.

“After I got married, I used to come here a lot more of course, just to get out of the house.”

“That sounds stressful.”

Jeff nodded. “That was when I first started putting on weight. My wife used to hate that. She would point it out all the time to me; try to embarrass me in front of her friends. In the end, I stopped caring. I ate what I wanted just to piss her off. Fuck the six pack and the jawline! What’s the point in making yourself miserable in denying yourself the things that you enjoy?”

“I quite agree,” Gred nodded. He had always found Jeff’s enormous appetite and attitude towards eating whatever he liked to be such an attractive quality.

“It’s quite thrilling you know,” Jeff continued, even as Greg expected him to change the conversation. “Putting on so much fat after training so hard in the gym; losing all that definition… It was quite a change for me.”

“Yeah, I remember…” Greg agreed, remembering how much more attracted he had felt to Jeff once the weight had started to pile on and transform him.

“You can spend months in the gym just trying to pack on just a tiny bit of muscle. But you can gain fat and find your pants don’t fit in just a matter of weeks. I’ve seen it time and time again with all the guys I’ve hired over the years.”

Greg chuckled and nodded in agreement. He’d certainly witnessed that first hand as well.

“I guess, what I’m trying to say is… I kinda like being this way,” Jeff admitted, rubbing his large gut tenderly. “And… if I was to ever be with someone again, I would, sort of, want them to enjoy me being this way too.”

A natural pause came in the conversation when some of Jeff’s dishes already started arriving. Greg simply adored the way the fat man’s face lit up when surrounded by food, and he chuckled with admiration.

“Have you ever told Steve how big your ex-boyfriend used to be?” Jeff asked next.

“That was… over fifteen years ago!” Greg mumbled in reply.

“So… that’s a ‘no’ then,” Jeff shot back, sounding disappointed as he threw in another forkful of food.

“I don’t think Steve would… understand,” Greg went on, suddenly feeling very awkward indeed.

“That’s because he’s an asshole,” Jeff stated frankly, pulling no punches. “He’s a sizist. He looks at me like I’m a piece of shit.” He exhaled, grumpily, seemingly cross with Greg. “You should have told him about Bill; about how you like bigger guys. It pisses me off so much that you’re even with a guy like that!”

“Why? What does all that even matter to you?” Greg asked, perplexed and feeling as if he had suddenly been cornered.

“Because you told me last night that if you and I were together, you wouldn’t try to change me!” he roared, sounding as if this had been pressing against his very large chest for a long, long time. “You told me that you would let me be exactly who I am. Yet, there you are, living with a boring guy who you’re not even attracted to and letting him get away with his snide little comments about fat guys like me. You haven’t told him that you’re attracted to larger men because you think it’s weird; because you know he will judge you for it. But I need someone who is all in on this one,” he finished, grabbing a wedge of his belly fat and jiggling it. “Being fat is who I am now.”

Greg exhaled, his heart beating faster than it ever had in his whole life. He felt hurt, confused and deeply misunderstood. “You’re only saying all this because I never told you what actually happened between Bill and I. You seem to be under the impression that I had some sort of epic love affair with him.” He sighed, deciding it was time to say it out loud at long last. “Bill left me all those years ago because I used to overfeed him,” he began to explain. “I tried to convince myself that I couldn’t help it; that I was just spoiling him and loving him too much. But, the truth was, I was enjoying seeing him getting fatter. I liked witnessing his belly growing and being responsible for it. I remember, I even used to put cream in his coffee and butter-up everything I cooked for him. I was… a selfish dick. I was a monser!” he sighed. “And it came back to bite me in the ass. In the end, Bill knew he had to get away from me. That’s why I’ve stayed single all these years. I was ashamed. You’re the only one who has ever brought it out in me since. I only allowed myself to spoil you when you were first getting fat. I made sure you were pumped full of soda and snacks whenever you worked for me. I’ve tried my best to keep a lid on it all this for years. That’s why I have never told Steve about what I did. That’s why I’m even settling for a guy like him.”

Jeff shrugged, heaving a great sigh and lowering his voice, becoming calm and relaxed. “But that’s just it. I don’t want someone who keeps a lid on things.” He turned slightly on the stool and put his large hand on Greg’s thigh. “I want you to be completely yourself with me; like you were with Bill. And, when I get fatter - which I will do,” he smirked. “I want us both to enjoy that.”

Greg smiled and rested his hand on top of Jeff’s, delighted that the man did not recoil, but grabbed it and held it lovingly. “You mean that?” he asked, overwhelmed with the turn of events.

Jeff nodded. Greg suddenly realised that the look of respect and admiration in Jeff’s eyes was actually love. Unbeieveably, Jeff wanted this as much as he did.

“May I touch your belly?” Greg asked, suddenly overcome with lust for the situation and opportunity he found himself in.

Jeff smiled and leaned back; looking around to check if anyone could see them in the incredibly quiet restaurant. Then he lifted his shirt a few inches, grabbed Greg’s hand and made it pinch the blubber that had flowed over the waistband of his pants.

Greg moaned. He couldn’t help himself, and Jeff chuckled, looking around; grinning like they were both naughty school children. “Want to make it bigger?” he asked playfully, seeing Marla approaching them with another of Jeff’s dishes.

Greg nodded and instinctively knew what he was to do. “Can we get some more cheesy fries and another chocolate fudge milkshake for Jeff?” he asked Marla. “Oh, and some more chicken wings.”

Marla took the order and trotted away. Jeff’s eyes were dancing with delight, his smile wider than Greg had ever seen it. As much as the guy had protested about loving the single life, it was clear in that moment that he had actually been waiting a very long time for someone to embrace this hidden side of him.

“Did I do okay?” Greg asked playfully.

“I think you’ll do just nicely,” Jeff agreed, leaning in for their very first kiss.

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every-aj-needs-an-angel · 10 months

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Happy Birthday to the lovely @estrellami-1 I hope you're feeling better and that you're having a wonderful day ❤️

Eddie wasn't sure who the party was supposed to be for, he wasn't sure Steve knew either to be fair. It was someone's birthday party, he'd seen a sash on one of the girls, couldn't say for sure which one though. And of course it was hosted, as all parties were these days, at the Harrington residence.

He remembers Wayne telling him that no-one had seen Harrington Senior or his wife since just after the Byers kid went missing, so Eddie supposed that made this massive mansion all Steve's.

And it'd been obvious since his massive blow up with Wheeler that he'd just stopped giving a fuck.

So Tommy and his band of merry fuckheads organised parties in Steve's house, and made a fortune out of it too, even though Steve wasn't really even friends with any of them anymore.

Not that Eddie cared. He didn't. The bigger the parties, the more parties they had, the more money he made. It was all the same to him.

Just sometimes, Steve would catch his eye across a classroom or like now across a party and Eddie thought that he looked kinda… lonely. Not that he was sure why Steve would choose to be that way, he might've fallen from grace but the guy was still gorgeous, he could have anyone he wanted; but he just seemed to wander ghostlike around the edges of life these days.

It seemed like forever since Eddie had last seen him smile, not sneer or grimace like he tended to now but a proper eye crinkling, dimple showing smile. Not for a lack of trying on Eddie's part of course, he'd taken to acting like a jester trying to get the fallen king to even so much as smirk, but his attempts haven't worked so far.

He thought he'd managed it earlier, during English when they were discussing male protagonists and he'd said Steve would make a pretty good Mr Darcy and winked exaggeratedly at him but his face had just gone through a multitude of expressions before he'd huffed in annoyance and leaned back in his seat with his arms crossed, staring grumpily out of the window.

Eddie didn't know why he was so determined to fix him. They weren't friends, they were barely even acquaintances, but Wayne always said he had a tendency for strays and even though Steve's house was brimming with people, Eddie knew as well as Steve did that if he didn't have all this, he'd be well and truly alone, which thinking about it was probably why he was letting the dickhead jocks walk all over him.

Tonight was the third party Eddie's worked here in as many weeks and he's made a fortune but Tommy decided to start a fight with the birthday girl's boyfriend, which is one way to kill a party he supposes, so now everyone's starting to make their way home, groups of teens staggering their way down the middle of the road; which is just plain stupid really, they're all going to get caught, not that Eddie gives a fuck, keeping the cops busy on the main roads gives him chance to get away unnoticed.

He knows better than to draw attention to himself like that, he learned a long time ago to only work parties with a good escape route, so he heads straight to the sliding doors, that way he can slip out through the backyard and take his chances with whatever creatures live in the forest.

That's the plan anyway.

Until…

"Eddieeee!!" Steve yells, drunk as a skunk and half dangling out of the sunlounger he's supposed to be sitting in, reaching towards him and making grabby hands.

"Harrington," he greets wearily, he's been surreptitiously watching Steve all night, he knows he's had four too many and knows all too well how unpredictable drunk people can be, if it wasn't for the fact that he and Wayne need the money he wouldn't even be here.

Steve just sulks, sticking his bottom lip out in a pout, all big sad eyes, "Don't call me that," he mutters. Eddie doesn't say anything, just rocks on the balls on his feet and watches as Steve tries and fails to right himself, "Help?" he pleads like a toddler and Eddie can't help feeling endeared, he sighs, shaking his head to himself as he walks over to the sunlounger, picking Steve up under the arms, like the baby he's acting like and gets him settled properly.

"There you go," Eddie mutters, patting him gently on the head.

"Thanks," Steve mumbles, a surprised look on his face and a blush spreading across his cheeks, tapping the space in front of him in invitation for Eddie to sit and as much as part of him thinks it's a terrible idea, he knows if he leaves he'd be leaving him alone in this state and he just can't do that, so he sits.

"Hi," Eddie says, for a lack of anything else to say.

"Hi," Steve greets, a dopey smile on his face blinking owlishly at him, but then his face shifts like he's just remembered he's supposed to be annoyed with him, "Why'd you call me that earlier?" Steve asks petulantly.

Eddie frowns, he hasn't called Steve anything, at least not that he can remember, "Your name?" he clarifies.

Steve shakes his head excessively, "Mr Darcy!" he spits with a snarl, like it's a swear word, "You've been nice to me for weeks and then you went and said that!" he whines.

Suddenly the weariness is back in Eddie's stomach, tries to think why Steve might be insulted and comes up empty, "I don't know, does generous, kind and good looking not suit you?" he babbles before he can really think about how that sounds coming from another guy.

Steve's face does something complicated, he opens his mouth to say something, shuts it, his face changing expression, opens and closes his mouth again before settling on a confused but soft little "oh".

Now that he knows he's not about to get punched, Eddie relaxes a bit, and curiosity killed the cat or whatever because against his better judgement he asks, "What did you think I meant?"

Steve shrugs and looks forlornly at the ground, "What everyone else thinks. That I'm an elitist, condescending wanker. That you'd been being nice to me as a joke so it'd hurt all the more when you were mean. I got drunk because I was sad because I thought we were friends but you were just playing a prank on me," Steve tells him and there's such sincerity and pain in his eyes it hurts to even look at him.

But Eddie can't help it, he's beyond surprised so he can't stop his eyebrows hitting his hairline, "Friends?" The fallen king of Hawkins High wants to be his friend? Was hurt when he thought Eddie wasn't his friend? Cares at all what Eddie thinks about him? That's way beyond his comprehension.

Steve just smiles dopily at him, lifting Eddie's chin with a gentle finger to make Eddie look at him and it's like being gut punched because who'd've thought this sweet, vulnerable guy was hiding inside Steve Harrington this whole time?

"Yes, friends! Do you wanna be my friend, Eddie?" And all Eddie can do is nod because he's been thrown back into a memory long since forgotten, of two little boys playing together in the forest, games of pirates and cowboys and aliens and those same hazel eyes looking deep into his soul and asking that very same question.

Jesus H Christ!

A gust of wind blows through the yard making Steve shiver bodily but given his clumsy movements earlier, Eddie wonders how to get him inside without risking him falling in the pool, because everyone else has definitely already left and Eddie can swim but not well enough to rescue someone who's drunk and not fully in control of all their limbs.

But Steve for all his height and his muscles isn't actually all that heavy, not in comparison to band equipment, he could probably manage…

Eddie twists slightly away from Steve, "Right, hop on," he instructs, tapping his shoulder. Steve just gives him a puzzled look, Eddie smiles encouragingly, "I'm gonna give you a piggyback indoors. I don't want you to drown!"

Steve smiles then, really smiles, and if Eddie knew it was this easy he'd've done it weeks ago, and wraps his arms loosely around Eddie's neck and his legs tightly around his waist.

Eddie tries not to think too closely about it, he's known for a long time that he's queer, knows full well endearing, pretty jocks are his type, knows that tightening in his chest isn't because Steve is heavy but more because their cheeks are smushed together and they're sharing the same breath and Eddie can smell his aftershave and the beer he's been drinking and for some reason when it's coming from Steve it isn't making him want to hurl.

The house is an absolute shittip but whoever was last out at least had the decency to turn off the music and turn out all the lights, so Eddie just slides the door shut behind them and heads straight for the stairs. Steve grips a little tighter, leaning into Eddie making balancing easier but other than that he makes no effort to leave Eddie's grasp.

He's waddling up the stairs but only because Steve's long, long legs are in the way. A secret part of Eddie thinks about doing this regularly, having Steve this close, so pliable and snuggly. Eddie feels a little guilty about it but he can't help himself from filing the memory away for rainy days when he feels sad, it's just such a priceless moment, chances are this is never gonna happen again.

"Which one's yours?" he asks when they reach the landing and he's faced with several closed doors. Steve doesn't say anything, just sighs heavily and points Eddie in the right direction.

Eddie steps forward, twisting the doorknob, the door swinging open, and flicking the light on to reveal his room looks… exactly how Eddie expected it to and suddenly he can't keep the fond smile off his face, because of course Steve has plaid wallpaper and matching curtains, it's so cliche it's adorable.

He walks over to the bed, turns so he's facing the door and drops Steve unceremoniously onto the mattress making him giggle uncontrollably. Eddie turns back to watch him because how can he not? He made Steve giggle! It's the most beautiful sound he's ever heard, even when he breathes in too fast and he snorts, his eyes are all crinkled in the corners, showing off his dimples and his perfectly straight teeth, he really is just perfect.

Eddie tries not to let his affection bleed through onto his face but he must do a pretty poor job because when Steve opens his eyes to look at him, his breath hitches and he stops laughing. And Eddie kicks himself because the house is far too silent without Steve's quiet laughter. He needs to get out of Steve's bedroom but he can't leave without getting him some provisions for the morning. He glances around and spots the ensuite in the corner, nipping inside and grabbing a glass of water and a packet of paracetamol from the medicine cabinet, wandering back out to leave them on the bedside, dragging the wastepaper basket closer to the bed just in case.

Steve is now more settled in bed, head on his pillow, snuggled up under the covers, Eddie smiles, putting on his persona so he can make it out of here alive and hopefully with his heart still intact because if he gets any cuter Eddie isn't sure he'll be able handle it.

"Okay, my liege! Now thou art safely in thy bedchamber, I shall bid thee adieu," Eddie says with a bow, he feels okay about leaving him now he's got him all set up and safely in bed.

Steve grins at his dramatics but frowns when what Eddie said sinks in, "Wait!" he yells unnecessarily given Eddie hadn't really made any attempt to leave, even though that's what he said he was going to do.

Eddie's eyebrows raise all by themselves, reaching new heights when Steve pats the bed beside him, "Stay," he whispers and how is Eddie supposed to deny him? He can't even use Wayne as an excuse because the poor bloke's at work, all Eddie would be going home to would be a cold trailer and crap TV, how could that ever compare?

He tries to think of a reason because this is so far from a good idea but Steve wants to be friends and he so clearly needs a friend and Eddie can do that, he can be here for his friend.

"You sure?" he checks but when Steve nods vigorously in reply all his misgivings leave him, he sits on the edge of the bed as far from Steve as he can get, leaning back on his hands, looking at him expectantly, waiting for him to say whatever it was he wanted to say.

Except Steve doesn't say anything, he just gets a hold of his wrist and pulls knocking Eddie flat onto his back, his head landing in Steve's lap and it happens so quickly all Eddie can do is blink up at him. Steve smiles like he's won the jackpot and starts running his fingers through Eddie's hair like he's petting a cat and Eddie daren't even breathe let alone move but it feels so good his toes are curling in his Docs and when Steve starts to giggle again he realises it's because he's enjoying it so much he's making little noises in the back of his throat.

"Sorry," Eddie mutters but Steve just shakes his head fondly and continues his ministrations, just watching Eddie watching him but it's been a long day, between school and the party and Eddie can feel his eyes drooping no matter how hard he tries to fight it.

He isn't sure how long he lays there for but his legs have been dangling over the edge so long even his shins have pins and needles when Steve rouses him with a gentle tugging of his hand and a whispered "C'mon, get in!"

Eddie does as he's asked, absentmindedly kicking off his Docs and getting settled on top of the blankets, both of them laying on their sides facing one another.

"Night, Stevie," Eddie mumbles, already half asleep, only just feeling Steve place his hand into his own, interlinking their fingers and leaving a kiss on his knuckles with a whispered, "Goodnight, love."

(I hated this fucking ending so much because I did the typical thing of thinking of it without writing it down and not to give tmi but whilst in the shower I just remembered I wanted it to be "Goodnight, Teddy." and now I'm just mentally kicking the crap out of myself because I posted it with the wrong ending 😭😭😭 sorry @estrellami-1)

#happy birthday #so sorry about the grammar and the tense changes. i am terrible at this #steddie #is this an au? idk anymore #steddie au-ish #steve harrington #eddie munson #aj writes

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lanas-delight · 5 months

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invisible string

♫ rec: invisible string by taylor swift

✰ an enhypen scenario || fem!reader x sunghoon, feat. made up friends & the members

✰ description — you always believed in luck over fate—until you met him.

✰ warnings — some language, some angst, but mainly just teeth-rotting fluff

✰ notes — inspired by invisible string by taylor swift (yes i listen to taylor swift). anyways, enjoy!!

Luck was what you believed in—not fate. You would call it dumb luck, not “meant to be.” Your parents met by luck, a sweet story how one only met the other because they were lucky enough to miss their train and meet their soulmate while waiting for the next one. It was luck, and you were sure of it. Your parents always said that the saying about things only happen for a reason was wrong, that if you’re lucky, you’ll be just fine. You thought it wasn’t all that fair, but who were you to judge?

You made every decision with perfect judgment, never acted impulsively unless it was just to buy a snack instead of saving money, but you were careful, cautious so you wouldn’t have to use luck. You would just have to be patient.

You never dated, it was something that you didn’t think about much. Your friends were all dating, one was even engaged, and you were the maid of honor, but you didn’t have a date. You had no “dance partner,” she called it. Your best friend, the bride, then said your date could be the best man. You were skeptical, but to please her, you agreed.

You planned to meet him at the nearest diner, maybe food would calm your nerves. Though, you hadn’t seen what he looked like, you just knew his last name. Not his first, just his last. Not even the bride knew her future husband’s best friend at all. What were you to do? Sit alone with a sign that has his last name written in bold on it, hoping he’ll walk right over—like that isn’t crazy and stalker-like.

You were told he was “a bit of egotistical asshole,” which didn’t help your worries at all, but you were just desperate to be alone at your best friend’s wedding. It was stupid, and you felt stupid, but however this “cold-hearted player” guy (you were told a LOT of things about him except his name..) may be like, you were just hoping he wasn’t that way to you.

There, at the diner, you went in and waited, ordering a cup of tea to keep you company while you waited, and waited. It was to the point you sat there, reading a book tediously, about to give up. Your tea was just about gone and the waitress was bringing another cup to you.

“What are you reading?”

A voice rang out in front of you, one that sounded like honey, but was deep like a melancholic poem. Mist on a summer’s evening, a gentle breeze in the spring. You looked up, and met eyes with a tall, dark-haired boy with a lazy smile on his face, his teeth barely showing between his lips—it was quick to notice that he had fangs, not like a vampire, though. His skin wasn’t as pale as everyone else’s in the diner, he looked active and that he loved the outdoors. He had bigger hands, long fingers and red knuckles, maybe he did pottery or worked some construction before. He had on a loose, white long-sleeve shirt and black pants, like he had just left church. A lot of assumptions, but that’s what you did best. You were sure you’d be lucky enough to be right on most of them.

“Oh, uhm,” you placed your thumb in between the pages of the book, closing it to show him the cover, “The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo,” you answered, “my friend suggested it to me.”

His face lights up a bit, and he gestures to the seat ahead of you. You nod after a moment, so he sits and smiles, “I just finished it the other week, how do you think of it so far?” You wondered if he was gay for a second, but you shrugged it off.

“I really like it,” you smiled, “I worried it wouldn’t be all that great, despite all of it’s overwhelming great reviews, but I really like it so far.”

He nodded, “It’s great, yeah,” he looks at the book, “What chapter are you on?”

“Three. I just started this morning,” you lightly rubbed your thumb on the paperback cover. You thinned your lips, “Did you sit here just to talk about the book?—Not that I have a problem with that,” you chuckled nervously.

He shrugged, “Yes and no,” he twiddled his fingers some on the table, “That, and well, I thought you were really pretty,”

Your eyebrows lifted a little, “You think I’m pretty?” He looked up at you, almost offended at first.

“‘Course I do,” he smiled, “Do you think you’re pretty?”

“You’re a flirt,” you ignored his question, scoffing, but he continued to smile. He had a nice smile.

“Only with pretty girls,”

“There’s plenty of those,”

“Well only you caught my eye,” he admired your face, “I’m not too good with flirting, but I’m flattered you see how I talk as flirting.”

You rolled your eyes, “How is that a compliment?”

He shrugged, “You think I have game,”

“Wow,” You laughed, “You’re confident,”

“No, no,” he shook his head, “I’m just myself.” He reached his hand across the table, open for a hand shake, which you obliged.

Your eyes were stuck on him like glue, “I’m Y/N,” you say, and his eyes light up a little, like there was beauty to your name and it sang with harmony in his ears. “And you are?”

“Sunghoon,” he kept your hand in his for a second more, then he glanced around, “You wanna get out of here?”

But you halted, “Oh, I’m actually—” you checked the time on your phone, it had been well over an hour since you were supposed to meet that other guy so there was nothing better to do. “Yeah,” you nodded your head, “I’d like that.” And he smiled.

“You’re crazy,”

“Am I?” He was holding your hand, but that’s not what you were calling him crazy for. Instead, it was for how he was wanting to try this kind of rice a couple blocks away from the diner you two had met at, dragging you all the way there with his hand tied to yours. Experimental—you never liked to try new things, but for some reason, you felt at ease with him. Like the world was floating, yet you kept in control of it. It felt so normal, not like you had just met him 30 minutes ago.

“Yeah, I would think so,” you both stopped in front of the food stand, waiting in a short line. The stand looked familiar, you were sure you’ve seen it before somehow. “You made me walk three blocks just to get rice? I don’t—”

“Shh,” he shushed you, “You’ll understand why,” almost implying he’s tried this rice before, but once it was your turn, he ordered for you, paid, and sat down with you at the nearest bench. Shoulder to shoulder, he handed you chopsticks and you both shared the bowl of rice, “I need a full evaluation afterwards,” he says, covering his mouth, it was full of rice.

You took your first bite, humming, then nodding. “Oh my god,” you say, “this is amazing,”

“Right?” Sunghoon laughed, his eyes crinkling a little, “I told you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you took another bite, “thank you.”

“For . . . ?” He looked a little surprised, which confused you mostly so you repeated yourself.

“Thank you,” you say again, “for all of this.”

Sunghoon smiled. “Don’t thank me just yet,” he says, “It’s not the end.”

You furrowed your brows, “End of what?”

“Our first date,” he answers confidently, “I have somewhere else to take you next,”

But you were appalled, “First date? I never said yes to a date?”

“Do you not want this to be a date?” He takes another bite, “Hm?” He tilted his head some, your eyes meeting with his. They were a dark chocolate color, warm and deep, you could drown in them and be just fine never coming back up for air.

“Well, I didn’t say that,” you grinned, take another bite. He was gazing at you, lovestruck but he didn’t know he loved you, but he was sure he would. You were starting to think that way, too.

After the rice, he took you to this aquarium, paid for you and joked when he asked you to pay him back. You actually planned to, but knew he wouldn’t accept it. He was a gentleman, a kind one that had a smile to warm, you would be just fine on a freezing, winter day. You had never loved anyone before, but you were starting to think that maybe this could be the beginning. You’ve told him stories, he’s told you some. You had completely forgotten about that best man you were supposed to meet, but that didn’t matter anymore.

Because you had met him.

For the next few weeks, you and Sunghoon went on a good handful of dates, all around the city, alone and not a word spoken to anyone about them so it would be more intimate, only about you both and no one else. You were getting to know each other, not exactly official but not looking anywhere else either.

Everything felt so right. He would tell you about places you always went to, and you would do the same for him. It felt that that any of those times, you could’ve met him, like you were both parallel lines that finally joined together to form a heart.

You had told him before on one of the dates, how much you valued luck and chance, rather than what was meant to be or not to be. He was the opposite—he believed in soulmates and what the universe may give you. He had a good argument, but so did you, though it wasn’t a dealbreaker or anything. He hadn’t asked you to be his girlfriend, but he referred to you as his girl often.

However, there was one date you would have to wait to have as the wedding was the following day and you were talking with your best friend, trying to calm her nerves for her big day. You hadn’t told her about him yet, but you were sad because he had other (pre-you) plans that next day so he couldn’t be your date either.

“You’ll do just fine, F/N,” you tell her reassuringly, “Jay’s not going to care if your hair’s not absolutely perfect.”

“You don’t know that!” She exclaims, sitting down on the couch across from you.

You stared, “Well do you know that?”

She covered her face, “No, but”

“F/N, he’s universally in love with you. There is nothing that can keep that man from marrying you tomorrow,” you tell her, though she still shakes with anxiety. She pushes her hair back a little as she leans back up. “Besides, you’ll look amazing no matter what. He’d marry you in a trash bag.”

She laughed, “God, you’re right. I don’t know why I’m stressing so much about this.” She pulls her hair back into a loose ponytail, “You sure you’re okay with no date tomorrow?”

You shrugged, “I guess I have to be. He never showed up at the diner so I guess I’ll just have to hook arms with the best man, ignore the elephant in the room, and then die alone.”

“You’re not going to die alone,” she tells you, “Maybe he forgot or something,”

“Didn’t you say he was a douche anyways? A player? Maybe I dodged a bullet,” you sat back in your chair.

“I know. But don’t worry, tomorrow will be just fine, yeah?” She smiles, but you click your tongue.

“Shouldn’t I be saying that to you?”

“I don’t know, maybe I should take your job!”

“Oh whatever,” you sigh, “Everything will be just fine. Don’t you worry, okay?” And she nodded before both of you headed to bed, anticipating the next day where one of you will be married and the other, alone.

The next day, everyone was already starting to gather around, taking their seats. Your best friend always wanted a beach wedding, so there it was, an arch covered in vines and white roses at the end of an aisle between rows of white chairs. It was beautiful, little white rose pedals spread on the sand, leading up to where the groom stood.

You were in the dressing room with your best friend, already dressed as you helped her finish up getting ready. You had just sent a text to Sunghoon about your day, which he replied and said he hoped he could’ve been there, too. You were a bit sad, but you didn’t let it bother you all that much. It wasn’t your wedding day, after all.

Once it was time for the ceremony, you held your hands together in front of you nervously, waiting at the front of a line coming from the right, while the line coming the left was the groomsmen, where the best man was nowhere to be seen. You honestly hoped he wouldn’t show, just in case you wanted to beat his ass if you saw him, but nothing could have ever prepared you for the following moments. The flower girls, your best friend’s neices, got in front of you and the best man who had just appeared, but you paid no attention and stared forward, waiting for it all to start.

A light melody begins to echo with the wind from the piano. You reach your elbow out, waiting for the best man to hook his arm with yours, but familiarity struck once he did. You looked over, just as the flower girls started to go down the aisle, and you saw him. You saw Sunghoon, the previously labeled “cold-hearted player” that was so egotistical, you’d want to rip your hair out. He was the douchebag, and you couldn’t believe it.

“Sunghoon?” You whispered, just as both of you started to walk down the aisle together slowly. He looked over at you, then blinked a couple times.

“Y/N? You’re— You’re the maid of honor.” An obvious observation, but he was in shock, honestly.

“What’s your last name?”

“What?”

“Last name.”

“Park.”

Oh fuck.

“You’re the best man that stood me up.”

“Stood you up—” He scoffed in disbelief, “I met with you, didn’t I?”

You shook your head, “You didn’t tell me.”

Sunghoon knitted his brows together, “I didn’t know? And you didn’t tell me either,” he remarks, all of the conversation being in a whisper as you both made it down the aisle. At the end, you two parted ways and went to the opposite sides of the altar. The other groomsmen and bridemaids all follow suite and the ceremony begins with the bride walkong down the aisle, the light melody transitions into the wedding march as all rose from their seats and watched her approach her soon-to-be husband at the altar.

It was beautiful, each vow perfectly written and spoken to one another, and there, the couple were married and everyone cheered and clapped.

It was wonderful, but your mind was elsewhere. All you have come to know about Sunghoon, could have just as easily been a lie—egotistical, asshole, cold-hearted, player—was any of it true at all?

After the ceremony and into the reception, Sunghoon tried to talk to you a few times, but ultimately stopped when you ignored him every time and gave all of your attention to your busy friend, who was the happiest girl in the room.

You didn’t want to talk to Sunghoon. You didn’t want to look at him, or even think of him at all. You had no idea what to think of everything now. Was he really like that? Even his best friend said that stuff . . . You really hoped this was your happy ending, but maybe your luck just ran out.

It had been two weeks since the wedding. Your best friend and her new husband had gone off to their honeymoon, so you basically worked, went home and slept, then went back to work the next day. You made sure there was no chance you could see Sunghoon—ever. You didn’t hate him, moreso that you couldn’t, because there was something inside your heart that didn’t want you to hate him.

It was late, it was just a Thursday after work where you stuck overtime for the past four hours. It didn’t help that it had started raining heavily on your drive home. You pulled into the apartment’s parking lot, then searched frantically for a jacket or an umbrella, but found nothing to your surprise. You were normally prepared for stuff like this, but it had slipped your mind that you had taken in your umbrella the other day, forgot it on the dinner table, and your jacket was probably sitting in the dryer. Sunghoon would’ve reminded you to grab them. He always watches the weather. He’d know. You huffed and got out of your car quickly, trying to rush in before you got soaked, but just as you got out of the car and shut the door, there he was, standing there like some dramatic movie scene.

“What the hell are you doing?” You call out to him, “You’re going to get sick, you’re not even wearing a jacket!”

“You aren’t either!” He called back out to you, the rain growing harder and harder. “Y/N, listen to me okay? I—”

“No, no I don’t want to hear your excuses,”

“I don’t have excuses,” Sunghoon stated out, “I don’t have anything to say that would ever excuse my mistakes, but that’s the past. I’ve changed, and I don’t want to be that version of myself ever again.”

You rolled your eyes, “You’re insane.”

He shockingly smiled, “Insane, crazy, stupid—you can call me whatever you want, Y/N, but I’m never going to stop feeling the way I do about you.” A strong declaration, but that wasn’t as surprising as the words he spoke to you then.

“How—” you hitched your breath as you shook your head, “How am I supposed to believe that all the things they said aren’t true? That you were ‘such a player that you couldn’t find it in your cold heart to even care that you hurt them?’ How can I be sure you won’t do the same for me?”

Sunghoon stared into your eyes, distant but still warm. His heart couldn’t have ever been cold. None of it made any sense. God, the things your best friend and her husband keep running around your mind like a racecar track.

“Because I won’t. I haven’t done any of that in years. In high school, and college, I was an asshole and was convinced I was supposed to be the bad boy everyone’s scared of. I let them be scared of me because I thought no one could ever love me, and when someone did, I ran.” Sunghoon stepped towards you on the pavement, his hair wet and his clothes soaked. His face was flushed with pink, a gentleness in his eyes that only you could ever recognize. It was him. “You don’t have to forgive me, but I will do everything in my power to make up for it all.”

“Sunghoon . . .” You tried not to cry, “Our luck has run out,” you told him, but he wouldn’t hear you. He stepped even closer, standing right before you now, close enough to feel some rain droplets bounce off of him and onto you.

“No, there’s no luck, there’s no fate,” he tells you firmly, “All I know is that I’m falling in love with you, Y/N, and I’m willing to do anything for you.”

You felt the same way he did. Of course you did. There was no part of you that could ever hate him. You wanted him, and absolutely no one else. You didn’t care if you both died tomorrow, as long as you had him, you were just fine. You were more than fine. You were perfect, because of him.

You gave him a soft smile, “I’m falling in love with you, too.”

And he gave you this . . . smile.

It was that type of smile that warms your heart and eases your worries. it was one that you could never forget, one that will save you from your darkest nights, one that can heal your wounds and pain with just a glance. Your heart was beating so fast that you couldn't even get a decent breath. Your head was full of thoughts burning with anticipation as he slowly leaned in closer to you. Heat rose from your stomach to your chest and your heart definitely skipped a beat as you felt his breath on your cheeks. You watched his eyes flutter as he started to close in. That was it — at that very moment his lips brushed over yours like a wave of warmth and all of your body reacted to him instinctively. You raised your hands to his face, and kissed him like there was no tomorrow, but it was gentle, passionate, full of love. Time seemed to have just come to a great pause as we kissed. The taste of his lips silenced your thoughts.

The rain was so cold against your skin, but it didn’t bother you one bit. It didn’t seem to bother him much either. His hands went limp on your waist, but you lowered your hand and took one of his into your own, holding him close to you as your lips moved against each other. His other hand lightly pulled onto your shirt, but you tilted your head slowly and touched your lips to his for a second time, very carefully and gently as if you didn't want to break him with a single touch. The kisses began to slow after a short time, becoming tender and infinitely more. It was like you were growing more intimate. It was so easy to get lost in him, lost in his connection between the both of you.

Before, on those dates or whatever they were, you both were just friends. Friends who stared at each other a second too long. But as of this very moment, with your lips kissing his, he was no longer just your friend. Instead, he was now a lover. Your lover. He was your soulmate, as you were his.

You pulled away and stared into his eyes, and he just smiled at you, “Come on,” he whispered to you, “let’s get out of this rain,” and as you giggled, you both headed inside and out of the rain together.

The wedding was set for the spring. It had been a couple years since your best friend’s wedding and the whole declaration-turned-kiss-in-the-rain moment, and you couldn’t be happier. You had (mostly) everything finished for the wedding, even though it was in a couple months and you had plenty of time to add or change stuff.

Sunghoon helped as much as he could, though he knew how much you wanted to plan it so he would only offer his opinion when you asked. It was your day, he would say, but you would always tell him it was his day, too.

You still believed in luck, and he still believed in fate. You felt you were lucky to meet him, and he felt that it was always meant to happen anyways. You didn’t agree out loud, but you knew he was right (you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of being right). Because whether it was luck or fate, it was always him. It was always him you were going to love forever. And with that, you knew.

You were going to be just fine.

—————————————————————————

a/n — OKAY IM DONE W WEDDING STUFF the next fic will be something wayyyy different (itll probably be angst lolz) but NOT ABT A WEDDING. anyways, i hope u all enjoyed <3333

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captain-mj · 1 year

Note

*slides briefcase across the table*

You know what I’m here for.

(Please please give them both animal ears and wings. Please I will kill myself if you don’t🥰🥰)

If you want to read this as König being mildly obsessive or that his species actually has soulmates, that is up to you guys. Vote in the comments or something lol

If you guys want a part 2, send me an ask!!

König stalked through the underbrush, listening closely. He felt distinctly out of place in this heavily plant filled area. Brambles and vines clung to his legs as he walked.

The trees weren’t too bad though. Tall and looming.

His presence must’ve scared everything living off besides a few chirping bird.

There was no indication he could really point out. Nothing that screamed you’re about to be attacked.

He knew though. Right as the person descended on him. Huge moth like wings blocking out the goddamn sun as the blade flashed in their hand.

König dodged it at the last second, pulling out his own knife.

The person was… tiny. Well, for his species, he was probably a fine height. But König was close to 8’6 and this tiny person looked to be 5’10. Their wings flared out to make themself look bigger, the leather armor clinging to him. It was a fair bit more conservative to König’s. His face covered, sunglasses on.

König’s own armor was metal pieces over his sensitive areas with fishnet like material to connect them. It was meant for ease of movement where this person’s looked to be made more to take hits.

“Tiny…” König mumbled.

The person started to talk at him, but he didn’t understand the language. He moved closer to him and the person lashed out, their blades meeting in the air.

Their wings were so pretty. König wondered what they’d feel like. Furry? Maybe?

König hummed and stared down at him. He was still hissing curses at him but he didn’t magically understand the language anymore than he did when he first started speaking.

“König.” He said to the person before pointing at himself, not at all bothered by the blade that kept swinging at him.

The person paused and König repeated it, trying to show that was his name.

“Horangi.” He provided after a moment before trying to rush him. Why they were fighting was lost on König. Maybe he had accidentally got on his territory?

König grabbed his arm and flipped him to the ground, pinning him down with his weight against Horangi’s back. His thighs were on either side of his hips, hand on the space between his shoulders.

Horangi looked… embarrassed. König could just barely see his eyes behind the dark glass over them.

“Don’t feel bad. I am ve-” Horangi did a move, flipping them over. He put the blade to König’s throat.

König looked up at him. Oh. He was very pretty. The wings blotted out the sun, making shadows fall around him. His hands settled on his hips. His own skin had swirls of gold all over it, making dizzying patterns that in a way complimented the dark splotches of Horangi’s wings. He blinked up at Horangi, smiling.

Horangi looked irritated at him, though substantially less angry. Blade pressed harder against his throat. König exposed his throat more in response. His hood covered all of his face but his eyes, but even through the fabric, the blade still managed to press right against his jugular.

König flipped them again, this time between Horangi’s legs, his hands pressing the wings down. They were furry feeling. And very soft. Horangi immediately started to kick at him but seeing as König was between his legs, it didn’t really work. His arms went to hit him and he caught his wrists in one hand and pinned them above his head.

It didn’t really occur to König how intimate the position probably felt until Horangi looked at where his hips were pressed against Horangi’s inner thighs.

Ah.

Oops?

Horangi stared at him, a flush clear on the little bit of skin König could see. He pressed the tiniest bit closer.

His team wouldn’t be there for a while since they split up.

König got flustered and went to pull away but Horangi’s legs wrapped around him and pulled him back. Ah. He could’ve easily pulled away. Horangi wasn’t in the position to get much leverage, even though König could feel the strong muscles underneath.

It wouldn’t be a crime to… He pressed just a tiny bit closer, despite how flustered he was. Horangi purred, rolling his hips.

Oh.

König flushed and gently let go of his wrists to grab his waist instead. Tiny. He rolled his hips back, feeling a delightful pressure against his bulge.

After some consideration, he pulled on Horangi’s laces, watching the armor loose before he could take his pants off. Horangi immediately smirked at him and even through the mask, König could see it.

How come even though he was pinned and König was the one pulling at his clothing did it still feel that Horangi was in control?

König flushed and suddenly felt rather embarrassed but he pressed closer, wanting more. Horangi took König’s clothes off quickly, wings fluttering slightly with excitement. They started to grind against each other before König got his hands on him, turning him over so he was on his front.

Horangi went to pull away and König bound his hands, stroking his wings gently. He followed the outline of them and watched him tense before shuddering into his grip. König had oil in his gear for his weapons that he poured over his fingers to gently push into Horangi. One hand stayed on his shoulder to keep him down, hearing his gasp of surprise followed by very soft moans. It was so sweet sounding.

König purred at him and laid over his back as he worked him open. With how small he was, König wanted to be careful. He kept his mask on and gave Horangi the same dignity, nuzzling against his shoulder. Horangi’s eyes were closed tight as he moaned and whined, pressing back against his fingers. His eyelashes fluttered as König’s fingers dug in deeper.

König pulled away and got the rest of his gear off, keeping Horangi pinned. He glanced up at König, batting his eyelashes and trying to look at him.

König got flustered and quickly tried to distract. His body was… He had more of the swirls and scars and he did not find himself very pretty. He very much doubted Horangi would find him pretty.

Instead, he lined up, wrapping his arms around him so his back was pressed to König’s chest.

“I know you can’t understand me, but just relax.” König cooed and Horangi flushed more, leaning up. The binds on his wrist kept him from moving too much. Gently, carefully, he pushed into him, surprised by how warm he felt. He was also so perfectly tight.

Horangi tensed up and König gently rubbed his back until he relaxed again so he could keep pushing into him.

“Good boy.”

Horangi murmured something in his own language at him, legs shaking slightly. König held his hips to keep him stable, not wanting him to fall. He thrust in, hearing Horangi wail.

“You’re so much more sensitive than my previous partners.” König mumbled to him. “I want to… touch you more. Your skin is so soft.” His hands trailed down his sides, feeling him all over. He gently tugged his wings and Horangi’s back arched, a soft moan breaking from his mouth.

His thrust grew faster and he did… something that had Horangi scratching at his binds, trying to shove him back against him.

König flipped him on to his back again, pinning his tied hands above his head as he thrust into him again. His cock made a small bulge in Horangi’s stomach and if he had the time, he’d love to mark the area. Honestly, he wanted to stay there and mark every inch of Horangi. Bite and lick his way across his whole body.

But they were two strangers and not much else. He shouldn’t get so attached. They also didn’t have much time.

König put his forehead on Horangi’s and thrust in again, getting the same result as before. He pounded into the nerves in Horangi’s body, feeling him start to tense and pant. Horangi yanked out of his grip to yank his mask down. His fingers tangled themselves into König’s hood as his head fell back.

König looked at his gorgeous face. The soft skin, the scars on either side of his mouth that looked like whiskers. He wondered where they got there.

He wasn’t paying attention.

Horangi lifted his mask and kissed him.

König felt panicked. Did Horangi’s species considering this as intimate as König’s did?

His heart started to pound as he melted into Horangi.

Something curled through his thoughts.

My heart.

My stars.

My love.

König came in him, quickly stroking Horangi to help him finish. He’d have to take him home. He would have to get his bed fixed so it would be shorter. The way it was Horanig would have a problem getting on it.

Horangi came and then sank his teeth into his bindings, ripping straight through it. He flipped König before standing up and stretching.

“What are you…” Horangi shut him up with another kiss and König’s eyes closed instinctively.

Please keep kissing me.

Horangi pulled away and was gone before König even opened his eyes. He had to clean himself up, alone. This feeling was not nearly as nice as the feeling of being kissed.

“König.” His hand swiveled to see Ghost of all people. Catching him crying. Ah, that’s embarrassing. “You okay?”

“I… uh…”

“You reek of sex.”

“I think I found my soulmate and they left!” König threw himself at Ghost who grimaced.

“Oh… Wow. Um.. Huh…”

“They kissed me. Twice!”

Ghost pulled away. “Seriously?? Twice? And they just left you?”

“Yes!”

Ghost patted him, which was a bit awkward since König was almost a foot taller than him. “Don’t worry buddy. Uh.. Shit look this is more Price’s thing. If it’s meant to be, I’m sure you’ll see him again?”

König started to cry again.

“Okay, okay. Um.. Do you want me to help you lookkfor him?” Ghost did not look the happiest about this idea.

“Yes, please.”

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare ii #konig call of duty #konig smut #könig #könig x horangi #horangi call of duty #horangi cod #horangi #Hunter au Cod

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boxofshadows · 5 months

Text

Oh, Your Love is Sunlight

Midnight/Nemuri Kayama x gn! reader

content: best friends to lovers, reader struggles with emotions and understanding romance vs platonic feelings, reader's gender is completely unimportant for the plot, reader can be seen as autistic if that resonates w/ you, fluff, confession, bath scene (sfw but there is nudity), brief discussion of romantic & sexual attraction, reader can also be seen as aroace-spec if that resonates w/ you. Self indulgent fic

AN: hi! This is my first x reader fic ever! I tried my best, but I do take polite criticism. Please feel free to drop by and throw something in my ask box.

Although this is x reader, I do not use y/n or (your name) in this fic. I find that it makes it more enjoyable, and there was no real need because this was in first person.

It was a cold winter's night. Most of UA was fast asleep. Not you though, no. You were waiting for someone. Nemuri Kayama, your best friend. The staff had decided on having a movie night, due to much of her insistence. And then like cruel karma, she got called away as soon as the movie started. It’d been nearly six hours since you'd seen her last, everyone else had already gone to bed. You refused to let her come home alone, knowing she would likely be disappointed and a bit sad. She’d consistently been there for you no matter what, so it was safe to say she deserved this at the least.

You were pulled out of your thoughts as the very topic of your musings waltzed right through the front door.

"Nem- what the fuck happened to you?" You say, looking at your slightly battered friend. She had definitely seen better days, her hair was a mess and her makeup had gone runny, she looked tired, overwhelmed, and, overall, drenched.

Why the fuck was she soaking wet in 3°c weather? (That's 37°f btw)

"So, I got caught up on call helping with villains, right? Calls just kept coming in, yknow? Everything was going fine until the last group." She starts gesturing with her hands as she speaks. "They- they all had really powerful quirks, so I was doing my thing, and then one of them started a fire. The villains went down, and BackDraft started handling the fires. Except he burst a fucking fire hydrant and drenched me!" She says weakly, her shoulders slouching. "And then! And then my key card doesn't work because it's drenched, so I had to call Nedzu and tell him this whole story."

"Oh, Nem, I'm so sorry," You say softly, walking over to her as she sits down to take the frustratingly tall boots off. She struggles with the zipper for a minute before sighing in defeat. "Here, let me help. You've obviously had a rough night." You sit down besides her, lifting the fabric of the boot away from her leg before pulling it down.

You can see it in the way her eyes shine that she wants nothing more than to cry in frustration, and frankly you don't blame her. She'd been looking forward to being here for the movie night. "I didn't even get to be here for the stupid movie," She says wrought with emotion as you unzip the other boot. "I must look like a mess right now, crying over what is literally my job," she says, chuckling wetly.

"Well, I think it's fair that you're upset. You were looking forward to this. And if it means anything, I still think you look pretty, even drenched in water and dirt." You chuckle, setting the boots aside and handing her a pair of slippers. "We can always watch a movie, just the two of us, if you want."

"I would like that, yeah," she says, powder blue eyes staring into yours.

"C'mon, Nem, let me take care of you."

"First things first, let's get you warm." You say, gently nudging her towards the communal baths. They weren't exactly communal, more so bigger bathtubs meant to hold two or three people at a time. Not all of the staff were exactly comfortable showing themselves off.

You start the faucet on the bath, turning the water to a moderate 36°c. (roughly 97°f) she chuckles quietly at your insistence. "Are you just trying to see me naked?" She taunts, taking off accessories.

"No! You just need to warm up before you get sick, and you're also covered in sweat and dirt," You say, blushing furiously.

"Awwww you're no fun. Are you at least gonna get into the tub with me?" She asks. Her voice intones in a way you're familiar with, but not enough to the point that you know what it means. You've heard other people use a similar tone before, but that was in romantic settings. Clearly, she meant something else since the two of you were only friends.

"Do you want me to?" You ask, tilting your head owlishly.

"Sure, why not? I need help with my hair. I think there's a rock in my hair somewhere." She says, her eyes grow soft as she observes you.

"Alright, I'll be right back." When you come back to the bath, Nemuri is already in the tub. Her dirty clothes are in the bucket, and she seems to have put a bath bomb in the tub from her collection. You have bathed together before, as all friends do, but you couldn't help but be stunned by her beauty every time. The way her long slate black hair clings to her pale skin in a sharp contrast, while also managing to make her baby blue eyes pop. The way her face was littered with faint freckles and moles like a constellation that you desperately wanted to connect with your fingers. She's breathtaking, you felt lucky to have such a pretty friend.

"Well, are you just gonna ogle at me, or are you gonna get in, hun?" She says with a chuckle. "I don't bite- unless you want me too?" Your face lights up like a fire, not realizing you'd been staring.

"Sorry, I had to get you some of my clothes because I don't have your room key. I know they're not your style exactly, but it's better than walking around naked." You mutter the last part, setting the dry clothes and towels aside.

"Oh, it's fine, your clothes are plenty comfortable enough." She waves her hands, scooting back into the pool of warm water.

"Alright, do you mind..." You trail off with your face still incredibly red. Heroes had to change costumes around each other all the time, you had even done it a couple times behind a dumpster. For some reason, changing in front of Nemuri like this was much more tense. Maybe it was because you guys were such good friends.

"Oh! Of course," she says, closing her eyes and turning around. Nemuri was such a good friend, sometimes even the smallest gestures made your heart flutter. Undressing quickly, you feel something bubble in your stomach. This feeling always happens whenever you're naked or not fully dressed around Nemuri. Sometimes it happens even when you are fully dressed. Nemuri was just so pretty, you were probably just insecure.

You enter the water with a slight splash, quickly making yourself comfortable in the water. "Okay, I'm done."

"Okay," She says with a smile.

"Do you... want help?" You murmur, moving a bit closer to her.

"That'd be lovely, starlight. I can't really reach my back very well. I'll help you with yours if you want." She turns around to lean against the rim of the tub. This moment feels… strange. Oddly intimate for two friends. The special nickname she'd given you, starlight, made your heart flutter. You resist the urge to kiss her.

Kiss her? You were only friends. Sure, it was a little weird, but friends did this sort of thing all the time, you were sure of it. You again shake yourself of your thoughts and move closer. "Sure, Nem" You quickly grab the bottle of passion fruit body wash and pump a bit of the goopy purple soap into the palm of your hand, rubbing them together to create a nice lather.

You massage the soap across her left shoulder, going over any scrapes or bruises carefully. The large mass of her hair lays across her right shoulder as you massage the tissue of her upper and lower back. Nemuri sighs softly as you work out a tense not in the middle of her back with your thumb. once the left side of her back is done, you dump warm water out of a cup over her body to wash the suds away. "Does that feel alright?" You ask, instinctively holding one of her hips for stability as you scoop the mass of her hair to the other shoulder.

"Feels amazing, sweetheart." She sighs bonelessly, making your stomach summersault so hard you think it's attempting a new record. You run the pad of your thumb down her spine, applying gentle pressure throughout before repeating the same steps on her other shoulder. Her breath stutters occasionally as she continues washing her front and legs. You wonder occasionally if you're hurting her based on the way she reacts, but you know she'd say something if you were. She looks completely blissed out by the time you're done massaging her scalp and neck, and you almost wonder if she's fallen asleep.

"Still with me, Nem?" You ask softly.

"Course I am, babes," She says dreamily. "'S my turn now, yeah?" She turns around quickly, very nearly ending up right on top of you. She's still practically in your lap, at which point you turn around as fast as you can so that she doesn't see your face go red again for the umpteenth time tonight.

"Can you scoot a bit closer? I can't reach well like this," she asks, resting her soft hands on your bare shoulders.

"Y-yeah," you stammer, scooting back. Her legs drape along yours. You instinctively scrunch your shoulders as she tries to massage them.

"Calm down hun, I won't hurt you." She says quietly, running a hand down the small of your back. You know she wouldn't hurt you. You trust Nemuri more than you trust yourself sometimes. You want nothing more than to relax into her and enjoy this, but something feels caught in your throat, like your lungs have been squeezed too tight.

"Ah, I know, I'm just sensitive, sorry," you apologize and try to straighten your shoulders. It's not exactly a lie, but you also don't know what the truth is.

"It's alright, darling, don't worry." She almost seems to know something is wrong, even without telling her directly. Your face throbbed again at the nickname.

You felt the need for something, some way to understand why you were feeling like this. This couldn't be normal, you were sure people didn't usually act like this around their close friends. Maybe Nem would know, she was well versed in relationships. Nemuri had done an entire podcast on relationship advice, and she had been teaching you how to tell the difference. It was still incredibly hard to do though, so sometimes you deferred to her to understand.

"Nem, this is really off topic, but I have a question," you say as she works soap into your scalp and through your hair. You rub soap on one of your legs, before lowering it back into the water to get rid of the suds.

"Shoot away starlight," she says while massaging out a knot in your neck.

"So you know about relationships, right, and you know how much I struggle with telling the difference between romantic and platonic, whatever it is." You explain, cleaning your other leg and your front.

"Mhm, you couldn't tell if someone was interested in you if they asked to bathe with you." She says, carding her hands through your soaking wet hair.

"Yeah, exactly. So I've been having these feelings around someone, where it feels like my stomach is flipping around." You mutter, hoping she hasn't caught on just yet. "I want to spend the rest of my life with this person, and it feels way more intense than friendship, and seeing them undressed makes me feel kinda weird."

"That would be a romantic attraction, yes. Although that ‘strange feeling’ could be sexual attraction. Not everyone experiences the two the exact same way." She dumps water over your back and scalp, washing away the soap.

Oh.

She pulls the plug to the tub, standing up abruptly. You follow suit, choosing to avoid looking at her body to avoid that strange feeling again.. "What, uh, what do I do with that?"

"Well, you could tell this mysterious person.”

"That's a horrible idea," You mutter, pulling a tank top over your head.

“Why?" She asks sincerely, gathering up both of your laundry and dumping it down the chute.

"I doubt yo-they'd like me like that. They're beautiful and amazing, and I'm-" you gesture at your entire body.

"Anyone would be lucky to have you, babes, trust me." Nemuri turns the light to the bath segment off, heading out.

"Maybe someday. Or, maybe I just... Bury these feelings forever! That could work, right?" You ask, following behind her.

"No. The more you repress it, the more it's gonna hurt." She says solemnly.

"Here, I made us both high protein smoothies while I was waiting for you, in case you weren't hungry." You hand her the cup with a smile.

"Thank you, dear." She smiles at you, making your heart flutter again.

"Okay, Nem. Hypothetically, If I tell this person, and they don't like me back, what do I do?"

"If they hypothetically don't like you back, you could always stay friends, it's not really a big deal," Nemuri says, sipping her drink as you walk to her room.

"Okay," you say, shutting her bedroom door behind you. You barely make it through a movie before Nemuri decides to lay down to "relax her eyes." In her defense, the clock had just ticked over to two AM, and she had morning classes. Maybe while she slept, you could get some practice. You had no idea what to say to "confess." It's not like you were admitting a crime.

"I think I have a romantic attraction to you, Nemuri." You muttered, trying to keep quiet as you watched her sleep. That sounded too... robotic. She was beautiful, ethereal, you couldn't quite understand how someone so perfect wanted to spend so much time around you.

"Nemuri, I think- I think I'm in l-love with you." You flinch as you end the sentence, your heart racing.

Yeah. That felt right, love. Love was the right word to describe how she made you feel. "Nemuri, I think I'm in love with you," You say again, this time much more confident. "You're- You're amazing, beautiful, a competent hero and teacher, and I'm glad to spend every day with you." Your heart pounds in your chest. That felt good to say, like a weight had been lifted off of your back.

"mm.. I love you too, starlight." She says back, causing you to fly out of the bed in shock.

"Y-you heard me?" You squeak, covering your face, although it's not like she can see you anyways, you're hanging half way off the bed. The bed creaks, and then she's looming over you.

Tired blue eyes peer into yours that are currently peeking through your hands. The way she looks at you feels different now. Like she could pick you apart in seconds "Mhm, I wasn't deep asleep yet, silly." She says with a giggle. She pulls you up with her and sideways onto the bed with surprising ease. "For your information babes, I kinda knew the whole time. You aren't exactly... Subtle, darling." Nemuri kisses the side of your face.

"Wait, does this mean you like me too?" You ask, your mouth falling into an ‘o’ shape.

"What do you think 'I love you too' means, hun?"

"Oh." She peppers kisses across your face as you lay chest to chest.

"You have no idea how long I've been waiting for you to realize." She giggles into your now dry hair.

You smile lopsidedly at all of the affection, yawning quietly. "Can we figure the rest of this out tomorrow...? I'm tired... And you have class in like five hours."

"'Course, starlight, I'm just a little excited, sorry. good night, I love you." She says, pulling the blanket over you both as your limbs intertwine.

"Night night Nem, I love you too." You respond back, carding through her still-damp raven hair with your fingers.

End!

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