#but also i need to get my stuff out of the office so my partner can finish setting up it for work
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dissapointu · 2 days ago
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how about arcane characters with a s/o that has a cat companion. Like his cat is seen everywhere they can go, on there shoulders, runs to the market, gang shootouts( for some of the more morally grey characters in zaun.) ect. The cat is very protective of there s/o and was hesitant when they first met the characters in question, but the the less is a good boy/girl.
A protective, ride-or-die cat as your constant companion? ICONIC. This little feline bodyguard is out here stealing hearts and taking names, while also being suspicious of anyone who gets too close to you. Spoiler alert: they’re gonna be OBSESSED.
Jinx
Jinx would be INSTANTLY fascinated by your cat.
• The first meeting? Pure chaos. Your cat hisses, and Jinx hisses back just to mess with it. “Oh, so YOU’RE the boss here, huh? Let’s see how long THAT lasts!”
• Once your cat warms up, Jinx is smitten, carrying it around like a baby while saying stuff like, “We’re gonna blow stuff up together, kitty. You’re in the gang now.”
• She’d build it little accessories, like goggles or a harness for “maximum chaos.” (“Every sidekick needs gear, babe!”)
• During fights, Jinx is cackling as your cat perches on your shoulder like a tiny warlord. “Look at us—unstoppable!”
Vi
Vi would think it’s hilarious at first, but the cat’s loyalty earns her respect.
• The first time the cat hisses at her, Vi raises an eyebrow and smirks. “Feisty little thing, aren’t you? Just like your owner.”
• Once she gains the cat’s trust, she’s giving it belly rubs and calling it tough-sounding nicknames like “Scrapper” or “Claws.”
• She LOVES how the cat follows you everywhere, even into sketchy situations. “Guess I’ve got competition for best protector, huh?”
• If anyone messes with you, she’s jokingly like, “Back off before my partner—or their cat—tears you apart.”
Sevika
Sevika would be skeptical at first, but the cat would win her over.
• The initial meeting? Your cat hisses, Sevika laughs. “This one’s got guts. I like it.”
• Eventually, your cat starts curling up on her lap while she’s playing cards or sharpening her arm, and Sevika’s like, “You better not tell anyone about this.”
• She secretly respects how loyal and fearless the cat is, especially during high-stakes situations. “That furball’s got more spine than half the people I know.”
• Sevika would jokingly side-eye the cat whenever it interrupts your time together. “I get it—you’re the favorite.”
Silco
Silco would be intrigued by your cat’s protective nature but would take his time earning its trust.
• The first time the cat hisses at him, he just raises an eyebrow and calmly says, “Loyalty. A rare trait.”
• Once the cat warms up, Silco quietly appreciates its presence, occasionally letting it lounge in his office or sit on his desk.
• He admires how the cat mirrors your loyalty, seeing it as an extension of your character. “A creature so devoted is a reflection of its owner.”
• Silco would lowkey enjoy the cat’s protective instincts, smirking when it growls at anyone who gets too close to you.
Vander
Vander would LOVE your cat and its unwavering loyalty.
• The first meeting? Vander just chuckles when the cat hisses at him. “Alright, alright—I’ll win you over eventually.”
• He’d bribe the cat with scraps from the bar until it starts curling up next to him while he works. “See? Told you we’d be friends.”
• Vander appreciates how the cat follows you everywhere, especially in dangerous situations. “Good to know someone’s always got your back, even when I’m not there.”
• He’s always sneaking the cat treats, saying, “You keep looking out for ‘em, and I’ll keep looking out for you.”
Ekko
Ekko would LOVE your cat’s adventurous spirit.
• When the cat hisses at him, Ekko laughs and holds up his hands. “Okay, okay—I get it. You’re the boss.”
• Once the cat warms up, he’s geeking out over how cool it is, building it little toys out of scrap and playing with it whenever he gets the chance.
• He admires how the cat sticks with you through thick and thin, even during Firelight missions. “Your cat’s tougher than half my crew. Respect.”
• Ekko would probably try to teach the cat tricks, joking that it’s your team’s new mascot.
Jayce
Jayce would think your cat is the CUTEST thing ever.
• The first time the cat hisses at him, Jayce gasps dramatically. “Hey! I’m one of the good guys!”
• He’d try so hard to win the cat over, and when it finally lets him pet it, he’s grinning like a kid. “See? We’re friends now!”
• He loves how the cat sticks by your side no matter what, always making jokes like, “Your bodyguard’s doing a great job. I don’t even need to be here!”
• Jayce would probably try to invent something cool for the cat, like a heated bed or a high-tech collar.
Viktor
Viktor would be fascinated by your cat’s loyalty and behavior.
• The first time the cat growls at him, he tilts his head and says softly, “I suppose trust must be earned.”
• When the cat warms up, Viktor starts absentmindedly petting it while working, smiling softly when it purrs. “A loyal companion… quite remarkable.”
• He admires how the cat follows you everywhere, even into risky situations. “It seems I’m not the only one who values your presence so deeply.”
• Viktor would probably get distracted by the cat while working, letting it sit on his desk and bat at his tools.
Caitlyn
Caitlyn would be absolutely charmed by your cat and its devotion.
• The first time it hisses at her, she just smiles and steps back. “Fair enough—I’d probably be wary of me, too.”
• Once the cat accepts her, she’s all about giving it gentle head pats and sneaking it little treats.
• Caitlyn loves how the cat sticks with you everywhere, often teasing you like, “I think your companion’s better at keeping you safe than I am.”
• If the cat ever senses danger, Caitlyn takes it seriously, trusting its instincts completely.
Mel Medarda
Mel would be intrigued by your cat’s presence and loyalty.
• When the cat growls at her, she just chuckles and says, “Protective, aren’t we? I can respect that.”
• Once the cat warms up, she lets it sit in her lap during meetings, occasionally stroking its fur as she works.
• She admires the bond you have with the cat, seeing it as a reflection of your strength and loyalty. “A creature so devoted is rare. You must be someone truly special.”
• Mel would probably spoil the cat, commissioning a luxurious collar or bed for it.
Ambessa Medarda
Ambessa would find your cat’s loyalty both amusing and impressive.
• The first time the cat hisses at her, she smirks and says, “A bold one. I like that.”
• Once the cat accepts her, she quietly grows fond of it, often letting it sit beside her during quiet moments.
• She respects how the cat stays by your side no matter what, especially in dangerous situations. “You’ve chosen your allies well—even the furry ones.”
• Ambessa would probably train the cat to follow commands, just to see how far its loyalty goes.
Maddie Nolen
Maddie would immediately be soft for your cat.
• The first time it hisses at her, she’d laugh nervously and say, “Alright, tough guy—I’ll win you over eventually.”
• When the cat warms up, she’s constantly sneaking it treats and letting it curl up on her lap.
• Maddie loves how the cat is always by your side, often joking like, “You’ve got the best backup anyone could ask for.”
• If you’re ever upset, Maddie’s probably cuddling you and the cat at the same time, whispering, “We’re both here for you.”
Lest
Lest would be enchanted by your cat and its loyalty.
• When the cat growls at her, she just smiles and says softly, “It’s alright—I understand. I’ll wait until you’re ready.”
• Once the cat warms up, she’s gently stroking its fur and murmuring little compliments like, “Aren’t you a beautiful one?”
• She admires how the cat sticks by your side no matter what, seeing it as a sign of your kind and dependable nature.
• Lest would quietly make sure the cat feels as loved and cared for as you are.
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aurorashard · 3 months ago
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#i dunno man#everytime i read some new thing about covid and long covid#i just feel like im losing my marbles#im the only one still masking it feels like#nobody at my drs offices wear them even the soecialists#my therapist acts like this is an irrational fear of mine#so i dont talk about it as much#shes happy im not isolating myself. and not full of crippling guilt when i do go out#which is good#i agree with her on that#but. ive been numbering my bags with my n95s since i rewear them a few times#ive been using n95s since i took this job. three years in october#which is wild the longest ive worked in one place is just over a year--all seasonal work or short internships. not because i leave#or get fired/laid off#but im getting down to the end of the alphabet#i dont know what ill do when i do#literally as far as labels but also like. its a lot you know?#im debating trying new mask styles. i wanted to ages ago but hoped. i wouldnt need to wear them for much longer#now it feels like i always will.#so. second best time to plant a tree and all.#i want to get out and make friends and do fun stuff. but it's so fuckibg hard and scary#how can i make friends when i cant relax in small indoor spaces#when i. cant eat out at restaurants (due to food issues and masking)#when inviting people to my house makes me anxious for days#how can i make friends under those circumstances?#im so lonely. and so envious#of my friends who do stuff and gave partners. i want that for me but i cant have it. before it was because i moved. ecery 3-6 months#now its this. is it realky any wonder that i nearly cried reading that fic the other day#when Etho took off his mask. and it was treated so fucking kindly and like the trust geasture it was? that it would be. for me?#maybe trust is the wrong word. i dont know. comfort? feeling safe in a space with someone who respects me and my health?
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jedi-bird · 2 years ago
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It is currently raining and will only get worse as the day goes on, which means my energy and ability to focus on tasks is almost nonexistent. Still managed to get some stuff done at least (set up shelf inserts in the kitchen, added felt sliders to the new chairs, moved the rest of my partner's new office stuff upstairs, moved some more of my stuff out, and got some more things ready to donate). Going to try writing later but not going to force it. Tomorrow should be better since the rain should start tapering off.
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ikeuverse · 16 days ago
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DUAL LIFE — s.jaeyun
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PAIRING: mafiaboss!jake x fem!reader  GENRES: smut, angst, slight fluff WC: 10.8k+
WARNINGS: swearing, mention of drugs and illicit things, mafia stuff, jake implicitly jealous, oral sex (f. receiving), nipple sucking, unprotected sex (do it safely, please). lmk if i missed anything else.
SYNOPSIS: being a serious and respected businessman was the only side of him that jaeyun wanted you to know, afraid that he would let you into his life and, over time, you would get to know not only sim jaeyun, but also sim jake, the mafia boss.
NOTES: idk how, but i thought about it for a day and just wrote it down. i let my mind run wild and wanted something completely different for jake, so here it is. i hope you like it!
part 2 | masterlist
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The corporate environment could be challenging and misogynistic when a woman holds a position of great power. At first, the fear hit you hard when your name was molded onto a plaque and, below it, the title of the boss was stamped. But alongside all this, you found yourself supported by your colleague and partner Sim Jaeyun. The first man who saw you with respect, who treated you like a boss and a partner, who handed you demands with the same intensity as he handed demands to other men in the company.
He was incredible when he signed the contract to share that company with you. And it was a good deal because once your name was linked to Jaeyun's, everything inside that building seemed to be moving perfectly toward success. Numbers and shares grew faster and faster, and meetings were shared late into the night where you and Jaeyun reviewed what you had done so far, whether you needed to change any strategies in your approaches, and how you two could take the next step.
You were surprised every time because even though he was there for everything, his word was always final. Jaeyun seemed to want your approval even if his vision was the opposite of yours. It was as if your permission was worth more than his, even though you saw him think for a while before making any decisions. Carefully and cautiously when he asked you about shares and employees, about investments, and what he should do, he was careful and very intelligent, but in his view, you were so much more. So having your approval before his was more important.
This meant that the two of you shared more time than necessary, apart from being in the office. Jaeyun constantly calls you to have dinner and go over some papers when, in reality, the two of you did everything but go over papers. Or when he called you for coffee in the middle of the day to de-stress from an annoying client in question, you gladly accepted because the combination of his company and a hot coffee was all you needed after a moment like that.
What started as routine things became a little different when Jaeyun became warmer towards you at work. It was hard to tell at first since he was always very professional and the looks you got from him were either approving ones or small smiles after a good idea in the corporate environment. You never noticed anything more than that. Until that moment. Where he made a point of touching your hand when he sat next to you, reaching for your pen while he was resting on the other side. Or when Jaeyun would gently rest his hand on your lower back so that you would enter the rooms before him as if he would lose sight of you at any moment even though the room was quite large and there was no way he could lose sight of you.
Dinners no longer had the excuse of work stuff, Jaeyun just wanted to go out and talk to you about everything other than shares, money, and boring investors. He wanted to know more about you, he wanted to hear you tell stories and he wanted to share his too. However, in this respect, you could feel him wavering a little as if he was afraid to talk about something he shouldn't have.
In your mind, Jaeyun had something difficult he was dealing with, so he tended to be more reserved about it, but you learned enough about him as the dinners became weekly. Every detail about his life – which he managed to share with you – and every quirk you picked up on as the two of you spent more time together. Jaeyun was a little box of surprises that you were trying to unravel little by little.
But as things naturally grew closer between you and him, something about the boy's behavior caught your attention. From time to time Jaeyun seemed more scattered at meetings, as if his mind was anywhere but on the words of an old, gray-haired man talking about work. Or how dinners between the two of you became the company cafeteria, him refusing – politely – to go out with you with the excuse that he was too tired. But at the same time, he didn't want to break his silent promise that you and he would share a meal at least once a week.
That didn't bother you, after all, you still had his company even if the dishes varied from pasta with fancy sauce to ramen that he asked an employee to pick up at the corner convenience store. That wasn't so important, at least Jaeyun was sitting in front of you with a faint smile and talking about how hard his day had been and how he wanted to go home and be with his dog.
Everything changed that night. You did everything in your routine, working tirelessly in your office while receiving a few emails from Jaeyun to line up a thing here and there. Answering a few calls and dealing with the staff as best you could. After you finished work, you just wanted to be in the cafeteria and try another flavor of ramen that Jaeyun had bought, claiming that you would love it. Your mouth was already starting to salivate because you knew he could find the most unusual flavors, always impressing you with the smallest things.
But your heart sank when the door to your living room opened, revealing Jaeyun and a grocery bag. Everything happened slowly before your eyes, even though the scene itself was so fast.
“I can't stay today” Jaeyun's voice snapped you out of your reverie, the bag placed on your desk while his hands were now hidden inside the tailored pants he was wearing.
“Why? Did something happen?” you asked, trying not to sound disappointed enough for him to see that he had messed with you.
But what you didn't know was that Jaeyun knew you as well as you knew yourself. Your every expression, tone of voice, everything. He knew exactly how you felt, perhaps because he was the same way, but also because he watched you too much.
“Some personal problems” he sighed softly, looking away from the bag to you “I brought you the ramen, so you can try it and tell me what you think.”
Jaeyun tried to smile to lighten the mood, taking his hands out of his pockets to fiddle with the bag and take out the bowl, showing you the new flavor he'd found. You bit your lower lip to keep from letting out a sigh or saying something you shouldn't have. Your heart was strangely bothered by it.
“It's no fun without you, Jaeyun” was the most you could say without sounding desperate or showing too much.
He felt the weight of everything fall on him as his eyes fell to the pot of ramen, seeing a spark of sadness shine in your eyes as your hands touched his and took the pot from his hand. Putting it back in the bag, you closed it and pushed it towards him.
“I—” Jaeyun turned away from your table, not wanting the ramen packets back “I'm sorry, Y/n. I really have to go.”
“Jaeyun—”
He was afraid that if he heard you say anything, he'd stay for dinner with you. That's what he wanted most. But he couldn't. Jaeyun had to leave as soon as possible before everything went to shit. So, just as quickly as he entered your office, he left and closed the door before he heard anything else come out of your mouth.
You stood there at your desk, staring at the bag that had been left there. It was the first night since you two started eating together that he didn't stay. The first night that Jaeyun barely looked at you before saying goodbye. He didn't even touch your hand as he did when he picked you up for dinner or coffee. He was so distant that it seemed like you didn't recognize him.
Meanwhile, Jaeyun was racing against time to try to balance the double life he was leading. Getting involved with you wasn't in his plans, not least because corporate life was just a façade for him, so the moment he found himself nurturing any feelings for you, he knew he was screwed. Jaeyun couldn't fall in love, but he also couldn't help feeling it when everything seemed natural when he was with you. Your presence made him forget all the bad things he experienced outside that office. That is there he was Sim Jaeyun, your partner and someone who was slowly taking over your heart.
But unfortunately, that couldn't be forever and he knew it. Leaving the elevator and walking hurriedly to his car, he took off his jacket and threw it on the passenger seat, the place where you had sat countless times in your work clothes as beautiful as any woman he had ever seen in his life. That symbolic place belonged to you, even if he didn't want to admit it. Jaeyun let his head fall back against the steering wheel of the car, uttering swear words that he remembered and that made his body explode with rage.
He wanted to be Sim Jaeyun forever. Your partner, the man who was slowly making you fall in love.
But leaving there he was Jake, one of the mob bosses who was now rushing to help his friends with new charges and problems coming up.
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The sound of his fingers drumming on the marble of the table was a little louder than usual. Jaeyun tried hard not to show how annoyed – and angry – he was to be there that night. He knew it would be impossible to hide from his friends how much he disliked being there, but at the same time, he couldn't forget what an authority figure he was there too.
“Are you in a bad mood?” he heard Sunghoon's voice cut through the air, entering the room with all the grace he had compared to the other boys. Jaeyun sighed, stopping his drumming to slide his hand to the glass in front of him and drink all the liquid it contained. He wasn't sure what it was, but he would thank Heeseung later for putting in the highest alcohol content he could find.
“Don't tease me, Park” he replied after feeling the burning go down his throat.
Sunghoon laughed a little and sat down next to Heeseung, facing Jaeyun.
“I asked you a question, bro” he said, “Why are you in such a bad mood? Jay and San have already managed to corner those idiots and take what they tried to steal from us.”
Looking at it that way, Jaeyun could be relieved. Smuggling drugs wasn't something he was proud of doing, but he knew how respected he was for carrying on his father's work as well as he would have liked. At the time, Sim wished he hadn't been so good and just stuck to executive work, without getting involved with the family mafia. But he knew how much confidence his late father had and how much he wanted Jaeyun to take over.
“I know, it's just—”
“He's mad because we ruined his date with his girlfriend” Heeseung winked at Sunghoon, who quickly understood everything.
“Shit, tonight was the night of your romantic dinner.”
“It's not a romantic dinner” Jaeyun tried to make amends.
“I told us not to call him, damn it, Heeseung” Sunghoon pretended to be angry, knowing that there was no way not to call Jaeyun. This was of a gigantic magnitude and even though the two of them were his right-hand man, they couldn't make decisions without consulting him first. A form of respect for their best friend, who had taken them in even after taking on a dangerous and important position.
“What did you want me to do?” Heeseung tried to defend himself, sliding down the back of the chair and running one hand through his hair “They tried to rob us” he continued “My only thought was to run to the shed and stop it, but I couldn't do that without Jake's approval.”
Jaeyun listened intently as the conversation unfolded in front of him. Heeseung and Sunghoon knew that they had complete freedom when it came to any decision, especially if Jaeyun was playing the role of partner in a big company. Wearing a suit and tie, expensive tailoring, and with you by his side. It was a persona he wanted to maintain, even though reality hit him every time he received a call from his best friends informing him of something concerning his second job.
He ran a hand through his hair, the sting of the drink gradually fading from his throat as he looked at the two boys still talking.
An absurd urge to disappear and leave the business to the two of them, to run to the office because Jaeyun knew you'd still be there working, eating the ramen he'd left for you. A strange tightness in his chest made him sigh. He had left you alone for the first time after everything had happened. It wasn't because he wanted to, but Jaeyun was afraid of involving you in the second life he was leading. He didn't want to put you in danger, make you go out to dinner with glances lingering between the two of you.
That life brought Jaeyun and his friends a lot of good things, but just as many bad things. He walked around with plainclothes security guards all the time, but it wasn't as if he could do that for you without your permission. It would be handed to him on a plate to tell you about his life in the mafia because on what pretext would Jaeyun say he wanted to offer you private security? It wasn't as if it was necessary for the life of a company boss. No one would want to hurt you for that. So with his lack of creativity in coming up with an excuse, he found himself doing the one thing he didn't want to do: hide you.
Dinner in the company cafeteria was safer than parading around with you by his side, even though it was the only thing he wanted at that moment more than anything. Holding your hand again with the excuse that the restaurant was full and he didn't want to let you out of his sight. That may have been true, but a large part of it was because he was worried that someone in disguise might harm you.
Jaeyun had declared enemies and he knew what some were capable of. Anything could be done against him, but no one should lay a finger on you.
“Jake!” Heeseung's shout brought him out of his thoughts quickly, blinking hard to regain awareness that he'd been immersed in his thoughts for too long “Dude, do you have her on your mind again?”
“At least disguise it” Sunghoon muttered.
“I think I'm going to shoot your ass, you idiot” Jaeyun pointed at his friend, getting up from his chair.
“Calm down man, I'm kidding” he said “Messing with her really puts you in a bad mood.”
Jaeyun ignored it because he had no way of refuting it. He realized that everything that involved him made his nerves frayed and his feelings more acute. It wasn't as if he could control what he felt. If he could, Jaeyun would have chosen not to involve any feelings because he wanted to protect you. But the next thing he knew, any little detail about you made him lose his mind. He wanted to keep you close, he wanted to feel you, he wanted to have you even if it meant risking everything.
A remnant of conscience made him keep his touches a little simpler, although he felt the absurd urge to grab your waist and feel your lips pressed to his.
“I'm going to check what Jay's got so far” Heeseung got up too, passing the seats and going around the table to leave the room “Any news I'll let you two know, so keep an eye on the phones” and left.
Now with Sunghoon being the only presence in the room besides him, Jaeyun felt the weight of everything almost crush him. His friend's gaze almost pierced his insides because he knew how Sim felt. Sunghoon had a better view of Jaeyun's feelings than the other two.
“Sit down” he said when he saw his best friend lost in thought, barely able to utter a word apart from opening and closing his mouth a few times. Obeying, Jaeyun sat back in his chair “What's going on?”
What about? He wanted to ask but knew it was a waste of time. There was nothing Park Sunghoon couldn't figure out. So the other just sighed, leaning back even further in his chair and closing his eyes.
“I shouldn't have liked her in the first place” it was almost natural to let it out, as if he wanted Sunghoon to hear those words “Things should be professional, I should just focus on the actions and nothing else. Then go back home, deal with the mafia problems my father left behind, and later think about marrying the daughter of some other mafia boss.”
“Better than marrying Y/n?” Sunghoon asked.
It was strange that his best friends spoke your name. This was proof that the two worlds Jaeyun lived in were colliding. Then he opened his eyes, wanting to scream out everything that had been squeezing his chest for the last few hours.
“That's what happened to my father, I just—”
“It doesn't have to happen to you” Sunghoon interrupted him with a certain kindness, although there was none in his tone. He still looked at his best friend as he said each word with deep sincerity “You fell in love with her and you have to go with that. Make Y/n part of your life like Sim Jaeyun and—”
“Don't even finish it” it was his turn to interrupt him “I would never bring her to meet Jake Sim.”
“But if you two got engaged, sooner or later she'd find out about the double life you lead, man” Jaeyun hated how certain Sunghoon seemed about anything. He was the most rational when it came to work and personal life and always had the best advice. He was responsible for not letting any of his three best friends commit any kind of madness.
“This can't happen” his hands ran frantically through his hair, messing up every strand that Jaeyun managed to get his fingers through. He wanted to pull them out of his head in a moment of small sanity but came back to reality when he heard Sunghoon's voice next.
“Maybe you don't need to tell her at first, but it might make Jaeyun's life a little more enjoyable” he said calmly, “You really are falling for her, we can see that.”
We. Jaeyun had always been good at hiding his feelings, from the prettiest to the worst, from his friends. Or so he thought since he had to swallow so much just to make his father proud and be where he was at that moment. Bringing Sunghoon, Jongseong, and Heeseung with him was a baggage of confidence and a remnant of the normal life he had before getting involved in the family business. The only three people in his circle who knew everything, who never judged him, and were always there for Jaeyun. The best childhood friends who stuck together, and that in itself made them get to know more about each other every day.
That's why the three of you could see Jaeyun slowly falling in love with you. Although the words never left his mouth, the way he talked about you could already be deduced from afar. The sparkle in his eyes when he opened a message from you on the meeting table in the room as Jake Sim. The spark of a feeling emerged as he replied sweetly. When the boys attended a company dinner as fake investors, talking to you about the profit they could generate for your and Jaeyun's company. The reality was that they were there at Sim's request to check if anyone was a possible suspected smuggler or rival since his name had been talked about so much in the city at the famous dinner. He was afraid of someone showing up and ruining the double life he had fought so hard to hide.
It was the first and only time the three of them had met and talked to you, but it was enough to see the way Jaeyun looked at you. How he behaved next to you and the tired sighs he released throughout the night as each man approached you. Before, your name was a legend to them, Sim Jaeyun's lousy partner in the company, but when they saw you in person, it all seemed to make sense.
Now we know why Jake fell in love so easily, Heeseung almost lost his teeth when he made that comment inside the shed, after counting out three hundred and eight suitcases of cash. Payment for the container of drugs they had distributed. Jongseong was in charge of separating his best friend so that he wouldn't beat Heeseung to a pulp, while Sunghoon calmly intervened.
Everything went so slowly until he realized that he had fallen too hard for you. In the feelings he was having for you.
“What can I do about it now?” Jaeyun finally looked at Sunghoon, really looked at him. Looking for an answer and no longer wanting to run away from what mattered at that moment.
“How about making amends and asking her to dinner?” he asked.
��I don't want to go out with her and be seen— You know, I don't know who might be following me…”
“Come on Jake, how many men do you have doing security for your dead father's mafia?” he glared at his friend, always teased by the way Jaeyun didn't like to say that it was all his now. It would be easier to say that it still belonged to his late father, that all those men followed the command of Mr. Sim, to whom Jaeyun gave his voice. He didn't like to be called boss, although it happened at the teasing of his friends.
“Many” Jaeyun answered him.
“Then put them in charge of her security once a week” Sunghoon swiveled in his chair, his eyes never leaving Jaeyun's for a second “We have enough men to put in one a week without her noticing, and you'll still be able to go out with her in peace.”
He seemed to ponder this for a moment. He didn't want to be awkward about mentioning to you that men were escorting you for your safety, after all, he was afraid that something would happen to you even if the two of you had no involvement whatsoever.
“That's a very good idea, Hoon, but—”
“There's no such thing, you know it's the only way if you want to have something with her.”
For a while longer he seemed to think about the possibility. It wasn't as if Jaeyun was hiding something terrible from you, not least because he would be looking out for your safety. He'd also be freer to go out with you again for the dinners you two shared during the weeks.
“Not to mention that if you and she start dating, the security will be doubled, don't you think?” Sunghoon stood up from his chair “Everyone will know about her if something gets serious.”
That was Jaeyun's fear, that everyone would know about you besides him and his best friends. In that world where he was Jake Sim, there was no way anything could be hidden. It wasn't like the world where Jaeyun could get away with it under an expensive suit and a lot of stock. He sighed heavily, throwing his head back without the strength to continue the conversation. Knowing how right his best friend was.
“Right, thanks for the advice, anyway” Jaeyun asked.
“At your service” Sunghoon smiled “Are you going to stay there now? I'll check on Heeseung if Jay needs any help too…”
“I'll stay a while longer, I'll be going soon” he said, still sitting down because his body seemed to be weighed down by the barrage of information and advice thrown at him in such a short space of time.
Sunghoon walked to the door of the room, opened it, and turned to Jaeyun with a playful, silly smile on his face.
“Yes sir, boss” giving a mock salute, he ran off before Jaeyun could gather up a load of papers to throw in his direction, but Sunghoon was quick to close the door. Not before hearing the other swear at him for his provocations.
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Jaeyun got to know you little by little, his first impression being of you as a strong and fearless woman. Someone he could easily work with among the men who underestimated you and who made him feel angry. Little by little, he noticed how easy it was to live with you and how you could read between the lines when things were happening. He was surprised when he started to notice the moment you felt uncomfortable in a meeting or in the presence of a man who tried to put you down, or how he could understand how bothered and angry you were with some stupid comment or action that had gone wrong.
Over time, he realized that he knew a lot about you just by interacting with you professionally. But when he decided to take a step and invite you to dinner, under the pretext of reviewing something from work, Jaeyun knew he was ruined. He knew that the first sincere smile you gave him had ruined and torn down any barrier he had built over the years in an attempt to not bring anyone into the dark and double world of his life. Jaeyun didn't want you to be a part of that.
So trying to push you away and keep you safe was the first and only thought he had, swallowing the physical and carnal desire that consumed him for wanting to have you in his arms. He couldn't afford to make the mistake of going around glimpsing you and your beauty, enjoying life as a couple that he knew was dangerous.
Sim Jaeyun was a good man, but Sim Jake was the opposite of that. And between the two personas he found himself divided on what to do because he knew that in both his lives, he was in love with you. It was the only thing he couldn't separate.
He knew it was too late to try to make Sunghoon's advice count for anything. Arriving at the office the next day, Jaeyun knew he had screwed up when he saw the bag of ramen on his desk, the two untouched pots very well placed next to the papers he needed to fill out during the day. What surprised him was the way you treated him throughout the week.
Professionalism took over again and you were the Y/n he had met when he joined that company and took on the role of being his partner. He saw the old woman with whom he had shared the management of that building and whom he had always admired – later he had fallen in love – and now he was back to the beginning. At least you, because he felt that he was falling more and more into your charms and letting his feelings take over.
It wasn't easy that you were monosyllabic in meetings, your gaze never meeting his, and every time you both needed to talk about any decision, you said you were busy and asked Jaeyun to talk to your secretary. You were running away, he knew that. So it could only mean that, besides being upset about him leaving you that night, something told you that you also had feelings for him.
Because no one would be upset about canceling a dinner. Even with the shitty excuse he gave you, if neither of you had feelings for each other, Jaeyun wouldn't have been frustrated to get Heeseung's call that night and you wouldn't have been upset to see him leave without even eating with you and then leaving.
It was a silent competition of who was handling it the worst way possible.
But he didn't know that jealousy was being added to the mix when he saw a new investor smile at you. How bold he was to approach you after the meeting, in the coffee room, and ask if you wanted to go out for something to eat.
I've seen this happen before, idiot. Don't even try. That's what he hoped the look would convey, but Jaeyun forgot that you hadn't looked in his direction for a few days, trying to ignore him as best you could. That's why you accepted the invitation. A little hesitantly because it had never happened before, other than Jaeyun, it was the first time that any man inside that building had invited you for something other than your partner. At that moment, after so many days, you looked in his direction, afraid of what you might feel when your eyes met. But seeing the discomfort on Sim's face seemed to give you some satisfaction.
“I still have a few more things to take care of, so—” the man extended a hand to you, gently holding yours. His touch was gentle and you tried to smile a little wider, looking away from Jaeyun to the boy in front of you “Do you mind meeting at the restaurant on the corner in half an hour?”
“No. It’s okay” you replied, feeling him squeeze your hand and lean in to kiss your torso, pulling away and letting go of your hand. He smiled at you once more, returning to the circle of men that was in the other corner of the room to say goodbye and do what he had to do.
You thought you should chat with your employees after a meeting, have some coffee like you always did, and then go to your office. But Jaeyun’s gaze was starting to make you feel strange. He didn’t miss a single movement of yours, from the moment you moved to get a cup of coffee to when you approached your secretary to whisper to him.
“I’m going to my office” you said quietly, not wanting to make a fuss with anyone. “I’ll be leaving for dinner soon, okay?”
“Yes, ma’am” he smiled at you, looking away to Jaeyun and swallowing hard. Your secretary had always been a bit wary of the man who was staring at you, but since there had never been any disagreements, that was passed on as he showed himself to be completely professional.
Jaeyun had never felt jealous until this moment, watching you gracefully leave the room and close the door.
It was all his fault and the idiotic way he tried to push you away even though he wanted to keep you close. Now, not knowing how to act, Jaeyun had to witness that scoundrel of someone asking you out and, worst of all, you accept it.
Something settled inside him and, without measuring any effort, he walked out the door quickly to your office. His mind had never worked well under pressure, whether from anger or jealousy like it was now. Jaeyun had never been jealous, after all, he had never met anyone who aroused that kind of feeling in him. It was like an urban legend or only hearing about the romantic stories that Jongseong and Sunghoon had here and there. But he had never felt that in his life.
When he stopped in front of your office door, his heartbeat almost rose to his ears as adrenaline and anxiety ran through him. Jaeyun didn't know how he would act after finding you in your office and confronting you. He knew something would happen, you could feel the tension in the air every time the two of you were in the same room, he just didn't know how intense it was. He had a slight impression, but he couldn't decipher you from that yet.
He decided not to knock, gripping the door handle and turning around without beating around the bush, entering right away before you could say anything else.
“What—” you quickly turned around from the table, where you had been facing away until then, packing your things and ready to leave. Your heart almost jumped out of your mouth at the sight of Jaeyun standing in the middle of your living room. The thud of the door as it closed went unnoticed by your ears and the only sound was your own racing heart. “Jaeyun?”
He approached slowly, one step at a time as he thought about what to say or how to act. You could tell how fast his chest was rising and falling due to the rapid breathing from the fright he had gotten seconds ago.
“What are you doing here?” you asked, trying to stay calm as he continued to approach. The steps stopped just a few inches away when he cornered you between his body and your table, making your body almost bend over if it weren’t for your hands being quick enough to hold on to the edge of the table.
“You’re not going to this dinner” the authority in his tone of voice made your legs tremble, but you were grateful to hold yourself firmly against the table and your hands tightened their grip on the edge. Jaeyun still had the ability and knowledge to read you so perfectly that when he saw your mouth open – probably with the intention of asking why – he was faster and leaned in to press his lips to yours.
He expected anything: a slap, a sudden pull away, a loud curse that could echo throughout the building. But the surprise came when you let go of the edge of the table to spread your hands against his chest, slowly moving up until you grabbed the collar of the shirt he was wearing, pulling him closer to you.
You were an amazing woman and he knew it, every single thing you did drove him crazy. And feeling you pulling him between your legs, giving way by opening your lips and welcoming his tongue and tangling it with yours.
Everything seemed magical to Jaeyun and you. Each touch took its time, something that had been repressed until now. He brought his hands to your hips, keeping you in place as he made a small effort to lift you up and sit you on the table.
Your pride in trying to ignore him was going down the drain more and more, as Jaeyun intensified that kiss and moaned against your lips. You should have pushed him away and gotten out of there when it was time, but now it was too late. He was tangled between your legs and his hands were doing a great job squeezing you and sliding down to your lower back to slide down to your ass. It was your turn to moan against his lips, your nails going inside the collar of his shirt and scratching his shoulder to mark something against the skin you wanted so much to know.
“Jaeyun” you whispered breathlessly and he swore that was the best sound he had ever heard in his life. Pulling his lips away from yours to get some air for his lungs, he let you ramble on as he lowered his mouth down your jaw. Feeling the taste of your skin and the texture of it between his lips, marking a path of saliva until it reached your neck.
“Yes, babe?” Jaeyun had no idea how much he moved you, because if he did, he would never call you by that nickname in the form of a whisper, while still kissing your skin and sucking a good amount of it between his lips. The pop noise he left after a long suck, certainly leaving the spot marked a few minutes later.
“I need—” you wanted to say that you needed to go, that this would be a provocation on his part. But your mind wasn’t working right and it didn’t help that he started pressing his hips against yours. “Holy shit” you moaned softly, the hardness of Jaeyun’s cock slowly making the right pressure against your still-clothed clit. You couldn’t say how he had the exact notion of where to press and how to press.
“I already told you that you won’t, Y/n” Jaeyun gasped against your neck, moving his kisses up and trailing the tip of his tongue across your skin until his face was level with yours again.
That sight was hell on earth for you. Jaeyun with his lips red and shiny from the kiss they had just shared, adding to the kisses and hickeys on your skin. His eyes drooping and dark with desire staring at you with a possessiveness you never thought you would know. You wanted to be able to say something, but it was impossible while you had his hands on your shoulders now.
“Tell me if this is too much, okay?” What did he mean by that? What was Jaeyun thinking when he asked you that kind of thing? It was already too much to have felt his kiss in a situation like that, but you were sure that it was too much to have his fingers unbuttoning the buttons of your shirt.
Every particle of your skin is exposed for his eyes to admire even more. You were never one to wear low-cut tops at work and his sanity was grateful for that, so he didn't know what to do as each button was undone until he reached below your breasts.
“Shit” he cursed softly, praying that you wouldn't hear the hint of vulnerability in his voice as he noticed the light lace adorning your breasts. They were beautiful and he didn't want to think about anything else but touching them. But Jaeyun didn't want to rush, he needed to feel you because he had been depriving himself of it for so long and almost lost.
When the last button was undone, he bit his lower lip to keep from moaning at the sight of you naked in front of him, sitting on the table with his body between your legs. Jaeyun would be lying if he said he had never thought about being in that position with you, or any other, where only his cock inside you and your voice moaning his name would be enough for any scenario to be propitious. He felt like a pervert for it, but there was no denying the desire that radiated inside him every time you showed up.
Leaning down, Jaeyun left a kiss in the space between your neck and your collarbone, enjoying the sounds you made and smiling against your skin when he didn't hear any objections from you. This meant he could continue with the kisses until he reached the curve of your breast, tracing the outline with the tip of his tongue. He looked up, seeking eye contact with you and when he did, he knew he was where he belonged. The way you looked at him, the tense and longing expression you maintained as you held his gaze was all he needed.
“Can I continue?” he asked.
“Please, yes” you answered, nibbling on your lower lip at the same moment that Jaeyun's teeth slid over the lace of your bra, lowering the fabric enough to expose your chest. He was on the verge of madness to taste every part of you, but desire consumed him with every reaction you had to his touch.
The tip of Jaeyun's tongue circled your exposed nipple, making a moan run through the room as it slipped out of your throat. He felt his cock tighten even more in his pants with each sound you made. His hands – which had previously remained calm when touching you – now impatiently ran over your shoulders to remove your shirt with a quick tug, going to the middle of your back to unbutton your bra and rip it off your body as well. Turning his attention back to your breasts, he sucked your nipple with such desire while his large hand covered the other and squeezed to feel its softness.
You were on cloud nine, his every touch coated with possessiveness and desire, making your head spin as you felt Jaeyun's warm tongue against your nipple. The silent sucking compared to the sound of your moans, while your hands quickly went to his hair to pull the strands as a sign that he would never stop what he was doing.
But he also didn't intend to take his mouth off your body. If Jaeyun could talk at that moment, he would tell you how good it was feeling every part of your skin, hearing every one of your moans, and he still hadn't done half of the things he wanted to do with you.
Missing your mouth, he went up to your lips again to share another kiss, this time a little more sloppy and slobbery. Your tongues ran against each other for dominance while your mouths fit perfectly, the synchrony of the movements making you both gasp into each other's mouths.
Jaeyun's hands went to your hips again, but this time his speed and strength came to the advantage as he took off your skirt along with your panties. At another time you could notice how skilled he was and wonder – or not – why he was in such a hurry or knew how to do it so quickly. But now you just wanted to focus on the cold air of the room hitting your pussy and how Jaeyun released your lips with a lewd and wet noise.
It never crossed your mind that Sim Jaeyun, your partner, the man you had seen many times seriously across the room – regardless of the number of times you had dinner together – and for whom you were harboring feelings, would now be kneeling in front of you. He was perdition personified in that submissive and vulnerable position. His eyes were bright, like a puppy begging for a reward. And you knew that what he wanted, besides making up for lost time, was to be between your legs like that.
A mutual and wordless agreement between you and Jaeyun was drawn at that moment, with him slowly approaching your pussy and you opening your legs enough to accommodate him even more. As a test, he stretched out his tongue and licked a long strip from your entrance to your clitoris, collecting your essence and feeling your taste linger on the tip of the wet muscle that he passed through your entire intimacy.
“Fuck, Jaeyun” you tilted your head back, the deliciously warm sensation of his tongue licking your pussy was too much to handle. His hands wrapped around your thighs and held them wide open as he licked a little more, seeming to be hungry as he collected a little more of your essence.
You rested your hands in his hair, your legs feeling like jelly as Jaeyun moved a little further. He focused on sucking on your clit, circling his tongue over the sensitive bud as he looked up to try to catch some reaction from you. Your head was thrown back, but he wanted you to look at him, just once. Just once to see him eat you like a good meal.
“Look at me, Y/n” Jaeyun asked hoarsely, pulling his lips away from your pussy to get your attention. You wanted to pull his hair and bury his face in your pussy again, the lack of contact with your clit made you whimper softly, it was a great torture. But you had to obey if you wanted to feel him again, so your head lifted, your eyes searching his to find the sinful sight.
There was no way Jaeyun could be that desirous more than anything else, it was impossible that that man could look so good in any position or situation. You almost cursed him if it weren't for how quickly he maintained eye contact as he approached your pussy again. This time he sucked you more slowly, drawing circles on your clit and maintaining eye contact, not losing a single second of his eyes on yours. He moved one of his hands away from your leg to slide between your folds, introducing his index finger into your hole.
“I— Fuck, don't do this” you pressed yourself against his finger, the introduction being too much for you. He wanted to fuck you so badly now, with your moaning and your eyes nearly closing, it was torturous to keep them open as he inserted the second finger and continued to suck on your clit.
The movements were now combined quickly, making him alternate between scissoring movements and rotating his fingers inside you, at the same second he sucked your clitoris and ran the tip of his tongue over your pussy, opening your lips so he could spread his saliva along with your essence. The wet sound of his fingers going back and forth inside you, Jaeyun's prominent knuckles almost making you come undone right there. Your walls sucked him so deliciously that he wanted to feel his cock being buried inside you and how hot it would be to be inside there.
The thought alone made Jaeyun feel his underwear get wet, he knew that his pre-cum was almost overcoming the tailoring of the pants he was wearing. It was already too much to have to endure all of that without being able to feel the slightest relief in his cock. But when he decided to introduce the third finger inside your pussy, it was as if he had seen the vision of heaven. Your head fell back again, you couldn't keep your eyes on him.
“Y/n, look—”
“Come up here, please,” you begged. He gave your clit one last kiss as if to taste you one last time before moving up his body to be close to you again. His fingers continued to work your pussy harder and harder as it clenched around his sliding, wet digits.
When Jaeyun brought his face closer to yours, you didn’t wait for any response other than to place your lips on his, sharing the taste of you that lingered on his lips. It was all so intense as your body shuddered and the knot in your stomach broke. You hugged Jaeyun’s body between your arms and held him by the hips between your legs, your pussy convulsing on his fingers as his mouth muffled the most obscene and loud moans you could make calling his name. Cumming on his fingers so hard that all of your liquid easily ran down the palm of his hand.
He wanted you to take the time you needed to catch your breath, the intensity of your orgasm taking over every cell in your body as he was careful enough to pull his fingers out of your pussy. You moaned and whimpered, the lack of contact making you feel empty and weak, but something sparked in you when Jaeyun pulled away enough to bring his fingers to his lips, licking the length of his cock until he reached the palm of his hand.
“I knew you tasted amazing” he whispered, completely cleaning up what had been your orgasm liquid until there was nothing left.
You pulled him back to you, running your thumb over his chin that held more of your liquid. Jaeyun smiled slowly as he felt your soft touch, your fingers sliding down it until they reached the waistband of his pants.
“Y/n, don’t—”
“Shhh, it’s okay” you kissed his jaw, your lips slowly sliding down Jaeyun’s neck to part of his exposed collarbone “It must hurt, huh?”
“No” he lied, moaning the second your hands undid his belt and opened his zipper so his cock would be less tight. He wasn’t good at that kind of lie per se, but he wasn’t stupid enough to want to demand too much from you either, considering the intensity of your orgasm, Jaeyun was already happy to see you satisfied like that.
“We can make this less painful for you” your voice whispered so sensually that he almost came undone right there, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down before he felt your mouth kiss him, right in the middle of his throat. “Put that down for me” your request was an order that had no objection, so Jaeyun quickly pushed his pants along with his underwear, his cock jumping out and hitting against his pelvis and stomach. Your eyes quickly scanned down, seeing the size of it and sighing at the thought of it being inside you in a few seconds.
“Y/n” Jaeyun moaned, an absurd need to have any kind of touch from you against him. Then your fingers quickly went to the head of his cock, red and shiny with pre-cum, spreading all the liquid with the sole purpose of stimulating him and teasing him a little. “What the fuck, shit” he cursed.
It was too much to suffer, considering that Jaeyun had been untouched for a long time, even more so after hearing your moans and seeing what your body was capable of with just a few touches from him. Impatience took over and he pulled his shirt by the collar, not bothering to undo any buttons, he just wanted to get rid of any piece that held him and feel the heat of your body against his.
“I want—” he moaned again, pushing his hips against the palm of your hand when you held the base and went down the entire length, masturbating his veiny and thick cock between your fingers. Jaeyun wanted nothing more than to feel your touch and what you were making him feel.
“What do you want?” you asked, your lips still against the skin of his throat, slowly sliding down to one of his ears to whisper the words. He spread his hands on your thighs, squeezing the soft flesh and pulling your body over the table so that he was at the edge of it. Your hips and your pussy are a little more exposed to him.
“I want to be inside you, Y/n. I— fuck” Jaeyun knew he was being a mess just moaning and fucking your fist as your hand tightened more and more on his cock. Spreading the pre-cum all over the length until it reached the base.
He went crazy when you leaned in enough for a ball of saliva to escape between your lips and slide down to the head of his cock, spreading some of it along the length with your – almost–perfect aim. That helped spread it even more across Jaeyun’s cock and he couldn’t take it anymore, it was too much for him and the boy was afraid he would explode in his hand and cum right there. It would be shameful to do this without him being inside you, even for a few seconds.
“Y/n, please…” it was his turn to beg now. The feared Sim Jake would never do this, would never be in this role, much less Sim Jaeyun. Both respected and feared, but now he just wanted to be yours and beg for whatever you had to offer.
Without further provocation, you knew how painful it was for him. And your pussy got wet again just from the sounds he made and the unfolding of the scene in front of you. Positioning his cock at your entrance, it was a silent invitation for him to insert himself into your hole. Your hands left there to hold him, one on each side of his neck, letting Jaeyun lead the movements.
Slowly he thrust his cock into you, the warmth of your pussy and the wetness of your juices being enough to shelter him so well and facilitate the entrance of his cock that you swore it would not be possible to fit. Soon he was all the way inside you, his breathing uneven as he finally had his cock shoved into your pussy.
“How do you feel?” Jaeyun uttered with some difficulty, his chest rising and falling quickly as he leaned his body towards you.
“Amazing” you tried not to moan, pulling his face close to yours so that his forehead rested on yours. “You can move now” your request, again, became an order when Jaeyun finally moved his hips to remove his cock and leave only the head inside you, returning with a slow but strong movement. His pelvis touching your clit with the movement.
He could no longer hold back his good manners and the desire to go slowly, wanting to make you feel every time his cock entered and left your pussy. Jaeyun pressed his fingers into your thighs, leaving marks that could be seen later as his nails dug into your skin, gaining momentum to start the movements. The sounds of skin slapping and the wetness of both your arousals are the perfect symphony accompanied by the moans that you and he left in your living room. It was visible the way you tried to keep your body each time Jaeyun thrust his cock even deeper into you, the burning slightly appearing in your groin with each more force that he thrust inside you. Your walls fluttered around his cock and sheltered him each time he entered with even more force.
“Shit, you feel so good.” Jaeyun gave a small smile when you tried to say something, only managing to moan and nod in agreement. Knowing how hard it would be for you to say anything at that moment he went faster and faster, pressing his fingers harder and harder against your body, now moving up to your hips. He felt you move your body against his, rubbing your clit against the length of his cock each time he pulled out completely before burying him deep inside you again. Jaeyun’s pelvis stimulated your sensitive bud each time he went so deep that there was no space left between your bodies, his balls slapping against your thighs and adding even more to the obscene noises in the sex between the two of you.
Jaeyun’s cock twitched as your pussy tightened, indicating that your orgasm was just around the corner. He was also about to cum, practically holding it in for so long that he feared how much would come next.
“I need—” Jaeyun whispered.
“Inside” you cut him off, knowing he could cum just by the way his hips bucked between thrusts. Your hands slid down his neck and up to his cheeks, cupping his face and pulling him in for a kiss. Your tongues tangled, your lips quick and desperate for some pressure as he picked up the pace to drive his cock even deeper into you.
A combination of his hip thrusts and the pulls he gave your hips to meet him, he felt your pussy clench around him so hard that it was enough for Jaeyun to spill. He came, painting your walls milky white as he moaned your name relentlessly. You weren’t far away and it only took a few more thrusts for you to cum on his cock. The white ring formed around his length as he continued to thrust in and out of you, not indicate that he was stopping just because cum was still gushing from the head of his sensitive cock.
With one last movement, your pussy milking every last drop, Jaeyun stopped moving. The strength draining from his body and giving way to calm, the high serotonin running through you and him after you both came together.
Jaeyun left a slow kiss on your lips, waiting a long minute until he finally pulled out of you. The sensitivity hits you both and makes you moan into each other's mouths.
“Sorry” he said as he knew you might be hypersensitive, even though he wanted to stay inside your pussy all night if he could.
“Okay” you replied, smiling tiredly before looking to the side and searching for your clothes. He went faster before lifting his underwear and pants, leaving a hint of sadness in your body for depriving you of the sight of him practically naked in front of you. But what caught your attention was that Jaeyun picked up his shirt from the floor, stretching it towards you.
“I don’t know where there are tissues, but—” he smiled a little, using the sleeve of his shirt to clean you between your legs.
“Jaeyun” you tried to stop him, but it was too late. Jaeyun cleaned you so carefully that it was practically impossible to believe, especially after what the two of you had done and the marks he had left on your body.
He helped you change, putting each piece of clothing in its proper place and still waiting for you to fix your hair, turning to him after a long time. The stain on the sleeve of his shirt, after it was put on, made your cheeks burn more than looking into his eyes and thinking about what the two of you had done.
“So…” you began, looking at him with a shy smile. Jaeyun smiled too, biting the inside of his cheek to keep it from growing even bigger as he got closer and wrapped one of his arms around your waist.
“Then I’ll take you home, and we’ll have dinner properly again from now on” as a couple, he wanted to add. But that was too much for just one night, Jaeyun wanted to tell you that as the two of you went out more often.
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Explaining the fear he felt about his feelings for you was the most that could come out of Jaeyun's mouth. That made him feel good enough to not think he was lying – completely – to you. He was really afraid of what he felt, but at the same time, he was afraid of bringing you into his double world. The last part was still a secret, but at least hearing that you forgave him and that you accepted having a relationship with him was all that needed to be said.
Two months in which Jaeyun stopped being afraid to tell you what he felt for you. That the two of you, besides being business partners, had become a couple. You started to frequent his apartment and met his friends too, those who had to lie about their professions and never let it slip that they worked for Sim Jake, who you didn't even know.
Two months in which you had private security, unknown to you because Sunghoon's idea was better. At least one man every week took care of you from afar and kept Jaeyun informed in case anyone suspicious approached. No consequences were made as the relationship progressed. He was a little more relieved. Keeping it just in Jaeyun's life was what he wanted for a while, if things really progressed and became even more serious, he had to tell you about his other life. But there was no need yet.
“Love” your voice made him abandon the thoughts that constantly intrigued him, afraid that you would leave him at any moment for the lie he so wanted to get rid of, but couldn't. Looking in your direction, the smile came automatically when you approached him, going around the office desk to sit on his lap “Is everything okay?”
“Why do you ask?” in the last few months Jaeyun let the thought pass that you could also read him the same way he did with you. That you knew him as well as he knew you.
“Because I’ve been feeling quiet for a few days now” you wrapped one of your arms around his shoulders, at the same second he wrapped his arm around your waist “And because you’re twenty minutes late for dinner.”
Shit, the dinner. He had completely forgotten, staying inside the office to finish answering Jongseong and Sunghoon’s messages, trying to keep things out of danger with the new robbery that had been successfully carried out. He wanted to know if everything had gone according to the orders he had given that same morning, completely forgetting that he was supposed to meet you twenty minutes ago in the company parking lot.
“Shit, love, I’m sorry” Jaeyun leaned in, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. His heavy breathing hit your skin and made you shiver. “I just—”
“How about we go home, then?” you asked, one of your hands going up to his hair and trying to stroke it slowly. “Your day must have been kind of rough, those men are annoying when they want to go back on their proposals.”
Every time you deduced that Jaeyun's tiredness and fear had something to do with the office, his heart sank a little more. His breathing hitched and he wanted to scream. But he held himself back and just nodded slowly, kissing your skin and lifting his head to look at you.
“Wait for me in the car? I'll fix everything here,” he asked.
“Sure,” you smiled once more, that being enough to calm all the nerves that persisted in his body. You leaned in to leave a quick and simple kiss on Jaeyun's full lips. “I love you.”
“I love you, Y/n,” he whispered back, kissing you once more before letting you get off his lap to leave the room.
Saying that he loved you out loud was like freeing himself from the bonds that suffocated him, held him back, and hurt him. He had never said that out loud to anyone other than his parents and his best friends. At first, it was as scary as wanting a relationship, but as you said and showed your love, Jaeyun knew it was the right thing to do. He felt that all that love was overwhelming, that as intensely as it scared him, it was the only thing that gave him the courage to continue.
Turning off all the appliances in the room and turning off the lights, he headed to the hallways of the building, greeting the security guards and some employees who were still there. Going to meet you in the parking lot. He just wanted to go home, enjoy your company, and take a hot shower. Many notes Jaeyun could think about having sex with you and using it as a form of calming, but that night he just wanted to feel your embrace, and your smell alone being the only thing capable of making his mind unfocused from everything that worried him.
A natural calming that was always right in front of him, the person who was the perfect balance between chaos and what he needed to stay alive.
“Jaeyun!” That was your voice, he could hear it from far away, but it wasn't like your call was as soft and calm as it always was. You were screaming. In desperation.
He looked around the open parking lot, trying to find you and why you seemed so desperate, but suddenly his world fell apart. Jaeyun's stomach was churning seeing your figure through the window of that van, screaming desperately and being pulled by someone hooded who wanted you to be quiet.
The car accelerated, making a complete turn in the parking lot before stopping next to Jaeyun and the passenger rolled down the window.
“We have something that belongs to you, Jake” the man smiled with rotten teeth, Jaeyun ran a few steps to grab him, but the driver took off “We want our drugs back!” he shouted before disappearing.
Your screams were the last thing he heard before the dead of night and the noise of the tires tearing through that parking lot. Jaeyun fell to his knees on the ground, the strength draining from his body. His scream echoed throughout the parking lot as he felt despair flood his body, along with the burning in his eyes and tears streaming down his cheeks.
What he feared most had happened. And he would stop at nothing to get you back.
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© ikeuverse, 2024. do not copy, translate or steal my stories.
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ilyrafe · 5 months ago
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𝒇𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒖𝒕𝒆𝒔 ✧ 𝒓. 𝒄.
pairing: ex!rafe cameron x ex!f!reader
warnings: angst, pregnancy scare
word count: 1.6k
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“i need to talk to you, it’s urgent. can i come over?”
the text catches rafe by surprise as he hasn’t spoken to you in three weeks. since the breakup, to be specific.
despite not being your boyfriend anymore, rafe still cares for you a great deal, and you rarely text him stuff like this, so it must be serious.
“of course.”
he puts his phone down and begins to wonder what must have happened for you to break your own idea of going no contact.
this has been killing him, not being able to talk to you. he misses you more than he anticipated and it sucks. it’s horrible not having you around, and the saddest bit is that he has no one else to blame but himself.
him and his ways.
half an hour later, he hears a knock on the door and before he can stand up from the chair, you come in. you seem anxious. terrified, even.
“hey.”
“hey, what’s so urgent?”
“i’m late.” you say, but rafe frowns, not quite understanding what you mean. “i’m late, rafe.”
“late?”
“my period, rafe. i’m late.”
oh.
oh, no.
“h-how late are you? i thought you took the pill!”
“i did, but i am a week late. so, i wanna know what we’re gonna do about it.”
rafe needs to breathe, it seems that all the air has left the room. he takes a step back and rubs his face with both hands, trying to be rational.
you’re probably pregnant with his child. this is not how he imagined this was going to happen. it turns out, rafe is quite traditional.
“what do you want to do?”
you seem a bit surprised with his question.
“i… i don’t know, rafe. we’re too young.”
“i’m good with whatever you decide. if you want to keep it, i won’t, uh, i won’t be absent. i’ll provide for you both, i’ll do everything i have to. and if you don’t want to keep it, i’ll pay for it.”
this isn’t going how you were expecting, if you’re being honest. you expected a fight, you expected rafe to claim it wasn’t his child, but… he’s being mature about it, which is new.
truthfully, you don’t know what you want. sure, you’d like children, but not now. not when you’re nineteen and don’t have a clue about what you’re doing in life. not when you don’t have a partner, a job, a house. not when the father of your child is rafe cameron, a drug addict with anger issues.
“i’d like to buy some tests first before i decide what i want to do.”
he nods and takes his car keys, leading you out of the office and taking you to his car.
it doesn’t take long for him to drive you to the nearest drugstore. when he parks the car, you don’t move an inch.
“hey, what’s wrong?”
“i can’t believe this is happening to me.” you say, not being able to hold the tears any longer. this is a nightmare. “what am i gonna tell my parents?”
“you’ll tell them the truth. you’re pregnant and you won’t be doing this alone, i’m here.”
you look at rafe quite skeptically and try your best to believe him, but he’s broken your trust so many times before, it’s difficult to see any honesty in his words.
“not telling them anything and getting an abortion is also an option, you know? we don’t have to tell anybody. whatever it is that you decide, i’m cool with it.”
for your own sake, you choose to believe him and wipe away your tears before you exit his car and go to the drugstore.
you try not to look so suspicious, but you’re looking around, to make sure no one you know is there, and thankfully you’re safe. you buy three different tests and quickly come back to rafe’s car.
the drive back home is excruciating. you can already picture your future as a single mother. you fear what your parents will say if you are indeed pregnant, which you probably are. you’re never late. when you were two days late, you thought it was odd, but then the days kept passing by and nothing happened.
then you did the math.
rafe, on the other hand, is actually happy that you might be pregnant with his child. he always knew he wanted to be a father. this is probably not the best time because you’re not a couple, you’re not really adults, and you don’t really have a stable life, but hey, this is what happens when you have unprotected sex. sure, you took the pill, but no contraceptive is one hundred percent effective.
this kid may be rafe’s only chance to have you somehow linked to him forever and that isn’t a bad thing necessarily… right?
once you’re back to tanney hill, you and rafe nearly run to his bedroom and he makes sure to lock the door so no one can catch them. you open them all and read all the instructions to do it right. you enter his bathroom and once you’re done, rafe has expectant eyes.
“so?”
“we have to wait five minutes.”
“oh, let me set a timer.”
he pulls up his phone and sets a five minute timer while you sit on his bed and sigh as you look up, trying to remain calm, but you can’t.
“i think we should talk about our… possibilities.”
“what possibilities?”
“if you are pregnant and want to keep it, you won’t be doing this alone, okay? i promise. i know this isn’t ideal, but… we’ll get through it. money isn’t a problem.”
“rafe, this isn’t the point. i don’t want to have a baby at nineteen with someone who isn’t my husband. like, i respect the ones who do it, but i don’t want this to be my life.”
rafe chuckles. you’re such a goodie-goodie, he wonders how the hell he managed to get you to date him.
“c’mon, you’ll be a great mom.” he says, truthfully. “you’re great with kids and you’re so caring, so understanding.”
you look at him and chuckle.
“that’s not only what it takes to be a mother.”
“but that’s also important.”
you lie down on his bed and take a deep breath. if rafe wasn’t so unstable, you’d consider having his baby, but… he’s not. he’s being good now, but you can’t predict how he’s going to be tomorrow morning and you can’t raise a child in this environment. you know better than that.
“if you’re keeping the baby, i’m getting clean.” he says. “i’ll quit everything.”
“rafe…”
“i’m serious. i don’t want my kid to be afraid of me, to be in danger because of me.”
the last part breaks your heart a little, as it was one of the reasons why you decided to break things off with him.
“that’s… that’s good to know.”
“i know we don’t need to be married to have a kid, but it’d be nice to, i don’t know, try again.”
“you want to get back together because i’m pregnant?” you snort.
“i want to get back together because i miss you and i love you, and since you might be pregnant, i think it’d be better for us to try again, so our baby can have a full family. you know, mom and dad in the same space.”
our baby. hearing rafe say such things make you even more confused and aggravated, only because you know, deep down, rafe isn’t the right guy for you, as much as you love each other. you know you’re too good for him because even barry told you so.
“he’s a lost cause, y/n. don’t be wastin’ your time with him, he’ll get you in trouble and you don’t deserve that.”
“stop saying things like that, rafe. please, this isn’t the time.” you plead, trying not to cry.
god knows how difficult it was to end things with him, because you love him oh so much. as cliché as it sounds, he’s really not like the other guys. he’s sweet, caring, funny and smart, but he also keeps setting himself up for failure and you’ve realized you can’t fix him and that realization alone broke you in tiny little pieces.
it’s like they say, loving someone is also learning to let them go and this is what you’ve been trying to do. it kills you that you told him to never talk to you again, because you miss his voice. you miss his jokes. you miss hearing his voice saying your name or whatever silly nickname he comes up with.
his phone rings, startling you both. once again, you don’t move, so rafe takes you by the hand and enter his bathroom with you. on the counter, you take the tests and see the results.
negative
negative
negative
the relief you feel is indescribable. you can finally breathe.
“what does it say?” he asks, a bit anxious.
“they’re all negative.” you respond, showing him the tests.
“oh,”
“oh, my god.” you sigh, smiling for the first time in a week. you turn to rafe and give him a hug. “thank you, rafe.”
rafe hugs you back, basking in the feeling of having you back in his arms again. for a few seconds, he allows himself to forget you both are broken up and just had a pregnancy scare. for a few seconds, you’re his again and nothing else matters.
“you okay?”
“now i am.” you chuckle, wiping away new tears.
“d’you want me to drive you home?”
“no, no, it’s okay. i’ve bothered you too much today.” you say, jokingly.
whenever you said that, he always said you never bother me, but he figures now it would be inappropriate.
“call me if you need anything, okay?”
“okay. thank you.”
you give him one last smile before you get your things and leave tanney hill, feeling light as a feather, not at all suspecting that rafe feels like absolute shit.
when you pictured your life as a single mother, rafe saw himself with a family. his own family. the people he would do anything and everything for, the people he would love endlessly.
the only hope he had of having you back in his life, the only thing that would make him turn his life around, the only person who would make him want to be a better person.
it never existed.
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tell me what you think! i love feedback <3
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tiredofthehumanlife · 5 months ago
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Dissecting is just a hobby of his
barbie dolls: Rosekiller x you
word: 1.1k
summary: ppl spread rumors about you and your boyfriends and the skittles discuss it
warnings: pandora and evan are siblings, regulus goes fucking rabid for gossip he loves gossip, barty and evan are i wanna say raunchy but i also dont, they’re barty and evan ykwim? oh jesus my joints hurt, evan is into dissecting things, barty has a love hate realationship with chess, dorcas is fed up with her friends, skeeter mentioned, a tiny bit of making out and then insinuation that they leave to bang
You quite enjoyed cuddling with your boyfriends in the commonroom. Granted you mostly just cuddled with Evan seeing as Barty couldn’t sit still for longer than seven seconds. Evan had your legs pulled over his lap with his nose pressed to the side of your face. Regulus was nearby in an armchair, reading his newest book and muttering when it didn’t pan out the way he wanted. Barty was investigating his chess set. A week ago while you three were on a date Barty mentioned that he hates how chess looked and worked. It was an odd thing to say seeing as he spent a good portion of his time on the game. His complaints seemed to spark inspiration in himself because within minutes he was scribbling away on the back of his homework designing the “better chess”, his words. Barty kept flicking his wand at the board before turning back to his notes and writing something down. You didn’t see anything happening but you were confident in Barty to accomplish his chess dreams.
Eventually, Pandora and Dorcas came back from studying in the library. Dorcas huffed, flinging herself onto the commonroom couch and dropping her bag onto the floor. Pandora picked up Dorcas’ feet, settling on the couch with them in her lap. You frowned at Dorcas’ exhausted state. Pandora opened her magazine, holding it in front of her face.
“Did the books bite back?” Evan asked. Dorcas snapped her head to glare at him.
“I told you they do, you guys never listen to me. Oh, Barty’s off his rocker again, man fuck you guys.” Barty muttered, mocking Regulus’ voice. You gently knocked Barty with your knee in sympathy.
“I do not sound like that,” Regulus muttered, turning his page more aggressively than before. Barty glared at him. You diverted Barty’s attention back to you as you knocked your knee again.
“It’s okay baby, you have all the time in the world to get your chess game right.” Barty snarled at you, turning back to the board. Dorcas pointed at Evan, you imagined smoke coming out of her ears.
“You and your freaky little partners really need to stamp out the rumors circulating the school,” Dorcas said, huffing and flinging her head back onto the pillow. Pandora dropped her magazine down, meeting your eyes immediately.
“They are kinda getting out of hand. I’m hearing things about my kin that I don’t really want to hear.” Pandora added, grimacing at the memories. Evan groaned next to you, ducking his face behind your shoulder. Regulus hummed.
“I heard you three got caught with your pants down in the headmaster’s office.” Regulus set his book down the second he caught a whiff of gossip, leaning forward to drop his rumor.
“I heard we all detention for giving each other handies in the back of potions,” Barty muttered. You pointed at him.
“See people just talk, they’re going to make up crazy stuff so they can get a kick out of it. I wouldn’t be surprised if this had Skeeter all over it. They should take away her school newspaper privileges. “ Evan nodded against you.
“Though Barty did offer to give us handies in the back of divination.” Barty spun around at Evan mentioning his name. Pandora grimaced and turned her head away from the conversation. Dorcas sat up to pull her braids over one shoulder before settling back down.
“That is just nasty,” Dorcas muttered, smacking her lips like it left a sour taste in her mouth.
“They can’t even get their facts straight.” You whispered. Evan hummed, knocking his nose to your cheek in approval.
“I heard that Barty was drawing raunchy pictures of you both in the margins of his classwork,” Regulus said, an evil grin pinching at his cheeks. You turned to Barty. He was frozen like if he moved he’d get caught. His eyes flickered around as he waited for someone else to talk. You kicked Barty in the side, laughing your way through his name.
“You said you’d stop doing that,” Evan muttered under his breath, glaring at Barty.
“It's not like I turned them in. Sorry, I got bored in class and thought of my lovers. You guys suck ass.” Barty said, rolling his eyes and tossing his chess piece down.
“It's one thing to think of your lovers, it's another to think of them naked and draw it out,” Dorcas said, making Pandora stand up altogether. Pandora stalked out of the room without a goodbye, deciding the conversation was enough for her.
“They weren’t fully naked.” You and Evan both groaned at Barty’s response. Regulus cleared his throat.
“I also heard that people saw Evan sketching out the muscular system and when someone asked what he was drawing he said ‘my partners’ with zero context.” Evan nodded at Regulus.
“That one is actually true.” Evan clairfied.
“you drew my muscular system?” You asked. Evan nodded. You cooed and gently pecked Evan. “I'm flattered.”
“Because of that interaction, people also said Evan dissects you both,” Regulus added. You hummed.
“Well, I think he would if he could. If it didn’t kill us, he would.” Barty muttered, flinging himself back to rest against Evan’s legs. Evan dropped his hand to gently play with Barty’s hair.
“I do give you full permission to dissect me after I die though.” You said, turning to Evan. Evan’s jaw dropped open, staring at you with wide eyes.
“You mean it?” You nodded, smiling at him. Evan leaned forward. ”Love it when you talk dirty.” You grinned meeting Evan’s lips. He pulled you against him more, if it’s even possible.
“See and that’s why you bitches never my extra biscuits at dinner.” You heard Dorcas say. You ignored her, pushing our tongue past Evan’s lips. His breath hitched just enough for you to hear. You pushed back against him. Evan’s hand made it to your shirt, gripping the fabric roughly. You heard a sigh come from the floor. You slide one hand up to the back of Evan’s neck.
“Here I am, sitting here all alone and unkissed.” You pulled back at Barty’s voice. You looked down to see Barty staring up at you with his puppy eyes. You leaned down towards his face.
“Oh no fuck that. Go somewhere else right now or I'm hexing you all.” Dorcas said. You looked over at her to see her covering her eyes with both hands. You glanced at Regulus to find him `all the way across the commonroom, hiding behind his book. He peeked over the edge, shaking his head at you. You shrugged.
“Gladly.” You quickly reached out and took Barty by his hand. He stood up as fast as he could, tossing his wand onto his chess mess. You walked towards the stairs with Barty behind you. You glanced back to make sure Evan was following. Sure enough, Evan was right behind you. He smacked Barty’s ass on the way up the stairs, leaving you both in the dust. You quickly caught up, dragging Barty behind you, on the way to the dorms.
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grandisknight · 3 months ago
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zayne: a doctor's companion
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summary: A certain healthcare companion finds its way into Linkon City, and a particular doctor is about to discover what it means to say ba-la-la-la-lah.
tags: established relationship, baymax (big hero 6), fluff, canon-complaint, one-shot, medical terms, phone call, gender neutral reader mentioned, mostly zayne's POV, first meetings
word count: 1.8k | (ao3)
notes: inspired by this tweet! also i just love baymax a lot and i think him and zayne would be a cute duo thank you ; including the stanford article i read for the surgery mentioned here! (not necessary for understanding though) (also if i get any med stuff wrong apologies i did my best! i was a girl in stem but not Stem yk)
+ update: the cutest zayne baymax art just dropped everyone say thank you mimi (zaynefied) (i cried)
⊹˚₊‧───────────‧₊˚⊹
Zayne was sure he had slept well the night before. Had his full eight hours, breakfast accomplished and a handful of kisses from his partner before heading out in his pristine, white coat. The drive to work was the same scenery of Linkon City rushing past, soon parked in his designated lot and tracing a familiar path towards Akso Hospital’s entrance.
So, even with such a practiced routine, how did he end up here? 
“I will scan you now. Please remain in place, Dr. Zayne.”
Zayne raises a hand in an effort to dissuade his unforeseen guest. “That won't be necessary.” But his rejection, in turn, was rejected itself—his brows narrowed at the losing notion.
“But it is. I am Baymax, your personal healthcare companion.” The robot calmly states, reflecting a similar monotone diction to the doctor. “I was alerted to the need of medical attention,” he continues, plush footsteps along the hardwood floor squeaking as he approaches the seated doctor. "When you said 'Oof.' So, I am here."
That singular oof traced back to the faint murmur under Zayne's breath just minutes ago when pushing through the growing crowd of peering eyes at Baymax's unprecedented presence. An unusual sight for everyday work life, the mysterious yet kind robot drew in the attention of incoming patients and passersby who happened to catch a glimpse. Zayne’s opportune timing and arrival to work hurriedly whisked away the looming inflatable as crowds huddled in growing excitement, geeking and gossiping alike. Most of his efforts thus far were put into escorting the curiously soft giant through the pristine halls and past the doorway of his office without garnering further unwarranted attention.
And currently, Zayne found himself subjected to a consultation by said robot.
“On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate your pain?” Baymax inquires. A chart of faces ranging in emotion and color flash over his chest in display. At the highest end stood a red expression painted in anguish, and to the lowest was a green facade of serenity.
Quickly, Zayne plainly states his number to mirror his current state. “Zero.”
Baymax stares him down with the abyss of his rather blank eyes wordlessly after receiving the response. In mere seconds, a pixelated, monotone hum with a hint of warmth made its way to Zayne’s ears. “Scan complete. You have sustained no recent injuries. However, your cortisol and neurotransmitter levels indicate that you are experiencing stress.”
No, really? Zayne’s brows and posture straightened then, removing his glasses and setting them aside. He echoes the conclusion, pushing down the unspoken remark with a bite of his tongue. “Stress? Is that so?”
Baymax nods, holding up a singular finger as he continues to reveal his findings. “This can be attributed to, for example, overconsumption of sugary foods or work overload. Have you had any of these two things recently?”
Zayne’s lips purse in thought, remembering the new maple syrup you had doused his pancakes in over an hour ago. ‘I picked this up during an overseas mission and thought you might like it,’ you explained to him, drawing an intricately sticky pattern of hearts atop his breakfast. It was still just syrup—not so much a difference in flavor to a regular one you could find at the nearby supermarket—but he was grateful for the gift nonetheless as he indulged in the sweet treat with you.
“Sugar, yes. Nothing wrong with it when done in moderation.”
Sure, he had a sweet tooth. But had been doing well to maintain a healthy intake of sugary pieces, lest he wanted another round of your ‘scoldings’ and an appointment to the neighboring orthodontist again.
With a slight sigh, he clasps his hands together over the expanse of his desk and continues. As for workload? He was almost always caught up in it, whether it were hands-on procedures or consultations. Today was no exception to the rule.
“And I do have work, if that’s what you’re referring to.”
“I see. May I make a suggestion?” Baymax asks.
Zayne gives him a curt signal of acknowledgement. “You may.”
“I can assist you with said workload. I am equipped with several modules and sensors that will be of use.”
Zayne contemplates for a moment, curious to the veracity of such a claim. Well, when one forms a hypothesis, the best way to test out the theory was through a designed experiment; and he was ready to do just that. “Alright. Give me just a moment.”
With a couple of speedy taps, Zayne pulls up a recent patient file and gestures for Baymax to approach. As the airy robot bounces into place beside him, Zayne points towards a diagram, a series of numbers and waves indicating observational data. “Here. Based on what you see, can you tell me what surgery this patient underwent?”
Baymax follows the trail of red lines, analyzing quickly in succession. “Their ECG fluctuations are affected by the noraderaline administrations over time. This line,” Baymax points to a blue parallel. “Indicates the oxygen levels throughout the surgery duration.” Calmly, he turns to blink at Zayne. “Diagnosis? The patient underwent a coronary artery bypass grafting procedure.”
Zayne nodded. Each detail was right on par, much to his surprise. “I’m impressed. Your creator must have put a lot of great effort into you.”
“He did. He was wonderful.” Baymax gives a thumbs up in return. “Am I to take it that I have passed your test?”
So he knew, even without having to say anything. “You have,” Zayne confirms with a small smile.
“Here.” Baymax raises his fingers and curls them into a fist, waiting for Zayne to meet him halfway. Slowly, Zayne does just that, meeting the soft plush before it was pulled away and sealed with a robotic tune.
“Ba-la-la-la-lah.”
“Bah… What now?”
“We have completed our first task together. This warrants a celebratory fist bump.” Baymax returns his enclosed fist towards the confused doctor once more. “You must also say it while our fists connect.”
Not finding it in himself to disagree, Zayne repeats the actions from before and adds on with an unsure, “Ba-la-lah.” Slightly strange, though it held a tinge of endearment that reminded him of a certain someone; he suddenly didn’t mind it as much then, shaking his head to himself.
It satisfied Baymax all the same, hand wiggling away before a sound disrupts the next file to be displayed. Zayne’s phone rings then, a custom set of notes indicating there was only one special caller. Your name flashed on his screen, buzzing in patience as his gaze flicked between that and Baymax.
“Do you mind if I take this?”
Baymax blinks. “I do not mind.”
“Thank you.”
With a swipe, Zayne presses his phone to the cup of his ear, voice softening to answer your call. “Good morning. Are you heading out now?”
“Morning! How did you know?” 
Zayne could make out the rustling of keys with the pattern of your footsteps, a light yet amused scoff from him trickling into the receiver. Even if it weren’t for the traces of noise, you usually left around this time and always texted him a new emoji without missing a day. So, of course he knew. You followed up almost immediately with another answer to support your stance. 
“New mission just came in, and it happens to be near Akso. Guess we’ll be seeing each other again pretty soon.”
“Oh?” His brow quirks at the idea. “What requires you to be in the area, exactly?” Zayne’s hazel hues instinctively settle on the black pools of Baymax’s blink, already knowing the answer that you proceeded to relay.
“There was a… Wanderer sighted?” Even over the phone, your voice relayed doubt amidst a warm crackling sound. “Well it’s not exactly one…allegedly. But rather something big, round and white? Tara said it looked like a walking marshmallow,” you chuckled. Well, it’s not like you were wrong, Zayne confirms with another glance.
“Either way, it’s caused an uproar and the Association is sending me to check it out. I’m assuming you already know what it is?”
“I do.” Baymax tilts his head, pointing a finger to himself in quiet curiosity. Zayne raises his own to his mouth, indicating for a secret to be kept as he muses into the call. “And no, not a Wanderer. Stop by my office when you get here and you’ll see.”
“I’ll be there in 15 if traffic is kind to me,” you chirped in reply. He could make out the humming of your motorcycle come to life, indicating the start of your journey. “See you then! Love you.”
“Alright. Love you too. Be safe.”
As the call came to an end, Zayne shifted his gaze to the even shiftier companion before him. Though Baymax couldn’t necessarily smile, the doctor could feel it radiating off of its plush form as he lifted a familiar finger.
“Your pulse and heart rate have quickened greatly. The rate went from 87 beats per minute to 102 in about ten seconds.” Baymax pauses, and a screen with infographics begins to luminate across his chest once more. “Symptoms may include, but are not limited to, your pituitary glands—“
“I’m aware of how hearts work.” Zayne gestures around to their environment, the glimmer of his name tag reflecting the morning sun filtering through the tall windows. “And… everything else.”
He was a cardiac surgeon, first and foremost. His efforts and contributions have earned him plenty of accolades in the field, a testament to his brilliance and especially at a younger age in comparison to his medical peers. But second to none was he also your partner—naturally, his heart would’ve soared regardless. He was aware of the source to his increased palpitations.
“You are also smiling,” Baymax comments. “Does this person make you happy?”
Zayne freezes then, unbeknownst of how the edges of his lips were curled into a gentle grin. His mouth almost straightens, fingertips brushing over them in thought. He lets out a resounding hum in confirmation, looking away bashfully for a brief moment. “Very much so.”
“That is good. Having someone who makes you ‘happy’ will improve your quality of life.” As if sending him his seal of approval, Baymax gives an affirmative fist of encouragement. No sooner did a wrapped lollipop appear between said fist, and he held it towards Zayne in offering. “Here, have a lollipop.”
“Thank you.” Zayne takes the candy in acceptance, wrapper crinkling in removal before a taste of winterberry spreads across his tongue. “Shall we go through another file until a certain someone comes barging in?”
He could already imagine how your grand entrance would play out, and this time, knowingly smiles to himself at the thought.
With an enthusiastic nod, Baymax takes a nearby chair and places it beside Zayne’s own. Deflating slightly to fit the mold, he puffs up once more in preparation.
“I am ready. Let’s work together, Dr. Zayne.”
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thekeeperof-thefandoms · 7 months ago
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I asked a few of my favorite hazbin writers this and only one answered and it was ok but I felt like it could have been expanded on so here's my take
Vox, Val, Alastor, and Lucifer react to your love language being baking/cooking
Vox
(Starting with him because he's the one thaf inspired this).
Vox came from the 50s and even though I firmly believe he is past all the ingrained gender roles and homophobia I think he still has some internalized misogyny. He wants to be viewed as the man in the relationship, the breadwinner, the provider. He can cook for himself but it's pretty basic food (except steak. Like every other man since the invention of the grill how to bbq has been hardwired into his brain. If his partner also grills ya'll fight over whose turn to cook out it is)
(Unrelated but as a lesbian who loves to grill, and is the designated grill bro, butch lesbians or cookout lesbians are some of Vox's favorite type of gays to chill with)
I firmly believe that's why even though he's a sub, it's so hard and would take time and trust to get him to let you top and enjoy it. He's so worried people will find out and judge him, that you'll judge him. His ego can be very fragile.
Especially if we go with the Vox used to be a cult leader theory. His power, image, and success are linked to his ability to appear in control. To appear to have all the answers and take responsibility. It's going to take a lot of time and patience to unravel all that and help him seperate his personal and professional image.
That being said, a partner who uses acts of service as a love language is perfect for him. He's a busy man, so he tends to be a gift giver type. The gifts are always well thought out and expensive. He wants it to be something you need, want, can get a lot of enjoyment from, and be worth the money spent, so he puts time and effort into them. Unless he's just showing off by giving you his card and telling you to go nuts.
So you taking time to make his coffee for him the way he likes, ordering lunch from his favorite places and having it sent to his office so he remembers to eat, or just texting him reminders to drink water or eat/take breaks throughout the day makes him giddy.
If you're his assistant or something, (and I believe Vox absolutely would have his partner working for him/with him), then it's even better when you take on extra work to try and help him. Organizing his schedule, sorting emails/mail, and proofreading things. Any small act you do for him, because you want to and care about him, makes his heart rate pick up.
It'll really make him overheat, glitching slightly, literal heart eyes, if he comes home after a shitty day and you're cooking for him.
His internal monologue is absolutely raving about what a good housewife you are for him, a hard working husband.
Bonus points if you cleaned too! Either way, he adores you even more now, letting you fret and coo at him, removing his jacket and tie, pouring him a drink and telling him dinner will be ready soon and you made his favorite. He's so tempted to bend you over the counter right now, but that would ruin dinner. After you guys eat though, he's having you for dessert. Man's gonna make sure you know how much he appreciates this by turning your knees to jello, good luck walking tomorrow, doll.
If you bake treats and bring them to VoxTek he's gonna brag so much. Literally the embodiment of John Mulaney's, "That's my wife!" If you bring them just for him, he's defending his treats like they're the last ones in Hell. He has literally hit Val with a fly swatter for even asking if he could have one.
(Unrelated but like, chubby vox maybe? You're cooking is too good)
Valentino
Val wishes he could cook better. He's some kind of latino, so I feel like the fact he can't cook very well is a sore spot culturally. He can make the salsa and chips and like, help with stuff, he knows how to wrap tortillas and tomales (I picture him as like Mexican or Puerto Rican but that's just cuz the town I grew up had a large Puerto Rican group).
It doesn't help that his eyesight is even more shit in Hell. He can't see what he's doing hald the time. It ruins his art hobby too. He's overall just more easily frustrated with his bad eyesight.
I don't imagine you guys dating per se. Maybe you're his sugar baby, maybe you're someone he hired to help him do stuff like clean and organize and you just sorta start doing other things to help him. (Again I'm not saying it excuses jackshit, but as someone who worked with bipolar people and people with mood disorder I kinda see the fan theory in him, either way I think all the Vees could be sort of trained to be better people, but especially Val. We already saw Vox do it.)
After all, he's usually in a much better mood if you do and that means less outbursts. The first few times you cook him something he teases you about being his housewife, tries to make it sexual. It's not really something he clocks as being an act of love because I don't think you'd realize it yourself at first. I think the more you got to see him when he wasn't stressed, lashing out, being abusive, you'd start catching feelings. ("I can fix him", delulu asses)
He loves to be in the kitchen when you cook once it starts becoming a regular thing. He can't see clearly what you're doing but the way you move around the kitchen and get what you need, even if you're an ADHD mess and do steps out of order or at random, he can tell you know what you're doing. He likes to smell the food too while it's cooking.
He will ask you to try and make some spicier/more traditional foods he grew up with, but he doesn’t remember all of the ingredients, and it just gets him more frustrated he can't tell you. If you look them up and surprise him with it it'll probably be the most genuine, human response you get from him.
He's shocked, silent, standing frozen in the penthouse as familiar smells waft around him. You present him a plate nervously, practically shaking hoping it's good enough. The first bite nearly puts him in tears. No one's done anything this nice for him? Why would you? Lowkey thinks you want something from him. It's gonna make him paranoid for a while so don't expect a verbal compliment but he eats it all.
Eventually though, one day when you're in the kitchen cooking, humming softly and swaying your hips, one set of his arms will wrap around your waist, the other reaching around you help with the salsa, or wrap a tamale, and he'll prop his chin on your head and mumble out thanks. Some praise, maybe. Would definitely tell you stories about eating these foods growing up.
It's the first step towards having an actual relationship with him.
Alastor
This man almost always insists on cooking. He isn't much of a sweet tooth either. You tell him one night you want to try cooking for him. Tell him you understand it's an activity he enjoys and relaxes too, (especially if you know it's something that reminds him of his mother), but you want to do something for him and this is one way you show you care.
It's gonna remind him of his Mama so much that if you didn't know why he loved cooking so much before you do now. He compromises. You pick the meal and gather the ingredients and do most of the cooking and he helps prep and does dishes.
He playfully critiques you the entire time about adding some spice too it or a little southern flair. Just smack him with the wooden spoon, gently. It's gonna make him laugh because his Mama used to do that when he wouldn't keep out of the sweets, or tried to add stuff to her cooking.
Once you start it becomes habit to help each other in the kitchen every night, trading off who cooks and who preps and does dishes.
If you do find baked goods he likes that aren't too sweet and send them to him as snacks, especially to Overlord meetings, he's so fucking obnoxious about his sweet little doe (doesn't matter if you are one or not) and how they spoil him. Especially rubs it in Vox's face (not him whining to his partner so they send him with treats too so he can also brag).
Only shares with Charlie, Rosie, Niffty, and sometimes Zestiel. If he's feeling generous, Husk can have a bite.
Low-key also has a thing for his partner behaving domestically even if he isn't exactly invested in traditional marriage.
Favorite activity though is dancing with you in the kitchen to jazz while dinner cooks, holding you close, in his room usually, so he can hear the sounds of the bayou. If he closes his eyes he can pretend this is how his life went and that his Mama is in the corner or sitting in her chair, watching him, happy to see him find someone.
He will literally kiss Vox willingly before admitting that last part though.
Lucifer
It's not that he can't cook, it's just....it's easier to just snap his fingers and make food appear. He's been in a depressed slump for decades man, he's lived off of the 'want food, no cook, only eat' mindset.
When you come into his life it's a complete overhaul. Despite what issues you have yourself you can recognize someone in worse state than you and immediately categorize and prioritize. First thing first, get this man's duck collection/obsession organized, thinned out, and under control.
Second, help him work through his issues with Lillith and Charlie. Encourage therapy, be a mediator between him and Charlie (and trust me she appreciates it. She knows her dad struggles, didn't know how bad, and still feels awkward). Help him socialize more, rebuild his connection with the other sins.
Get this man a work schedule!
Then it's on to personal habits. You help him get out of bed, you're both probably a little helpless in the sleeping on time category though. Help him get a routine again to keep out of his funk. Then you start cooking for him. It just happens naturally. You enjoy cooking, you enjoy showing people you love how much you care by providing good meals.
At first he's gonna resist and tell you he can handle that, you already do so much for him. He can cook or better yet he can just make it appear and you laugh and tell him it tastes better when it's made with love. He brushes it off as a joke too, you're both just being silly and obviously you said that to get him to quit fussing. Except, unholy hell does it actually taste so much better.
Lucifer hadn’t realized how bland and unsatisfying just materializing the food was. Maybe that's because he was so depressed and uninterested in what he ate, maybe not. Either way, your cooking is so much fucking better. He actually looks forward to eating now. If he gets caught up in work or has a bad day, you make sure to always bring him something, leaving it as an offering of sorts. It almost always works and entices him to eat at least once.
You cook, he does dishes, and he will not budge on that rule. He wants to be a fair man. He occasionally boots you out to do dessert, though. Apple pie is his bitch and you've never tasted one as good as his. He also makes good pancakes and some absolutely orgasmic angel's food cake.
Ironicall, devil's food cake is one of your go to recipes. Sometimes you both make a cake and take it to events just to watch people get confused as fuck when it's revealed the literal Devil did not make the devil's food cake.
Everyime you're in the kitchen together it's a disaster, you're both to silly and chaotic. You were making noodles one time and he threw flour at you so you smacked him with the noodle you were holding, leaving a line of flour and a speck of dough against his cheek. From there it escalates. It happens every time. Making cakes together, you're smashing frosting on each other. Making cookies, you're fighting each other to stop eating cookie dough.
Once, after you get fed up with him stealing her spatula to lick the chocolate off of, hovering above you with his wings, you pout and bat your eyes, asking him sweetly to please give it back. He swoops down in front of you, booping your nose to smear chocolate on it and leaning in to kiss you, letting you have a taste of the chocolate batter you were mixing for brownies. While his tongue is in your mouth, drunk off the taste of you and chocolate you smash an egg over his head and let out a triumphant cheer, snatching back your spatula.
He's so stunned his wings disappear and he drops the last few inches to the ground while you cackle. His heart is pounding, his ears are ringing, and his chest feels like it's gonna explode. His eyes are literal sparkles. He hasn't felt this much joy, wonder, and love since Charlie was born. It feels like witnessing creation all over again, of the breathlessness he felt when he first saw Lillith.
You're laughter stops when you realize he's just staring at you awestruck and you smile, asking if he's ok.
"For once...yeah..Yes. I'm ok." He responds, genuinely. You kiss his cheek and resume baking. He watches you from the counter now, dreamily, thinking about how he's gonna marry you someday.
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myjelllybean · 4 months ago
Text
Blurt it out
This is a Tim Bradford x reader fanfiction I had an idea for and just had to write it down. English is not my first language so there could be a few mistakes.
I hope everyone who reads this enjoys it. If anyone has feedback, I am open for it. <3
Summary: It takes place in 4x1. That's the summary.
The next fanfic I will post will be a Chenford one and I am currently working on other stuff.
If anyone has requests or ideas what I could write just send it in bc I ran out of ideas.
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She stared at the display, unable to look away. She didn’t really want to see what was happening, but she couldn’t just look away, and risk to oversee any detail that could help them. As a cop, she was trained to pay attention.
Next to her stood all the other people. Sergeant Grey, John Nolan, Lucy Chen, Tim Bradford, and of course Nyla Harper. She could see Lucy wiping a tear from her cheek, as well as Nyla. But she… she didn’t feel anything. There was not a single emotion in her.
(Y/N) winced, as she saw a shot being fired on the screen. Fuck. The last glimmer of hope was now gone. Sergeant Grey turned the video back.
“There. He flinched. As if Jackson scratched him or something like that”, he said.
“He knew he wouldn’t have a chance and wanted to give us something to work with. There would be DNA under is fingernails.” Lucy’s voice broke.
“I’ll tell the forensics so they can take a look at it. In the meanwhile, I want you all to go home and take some rest. I’ll let you call when we have some new information.” The Sergeant’s voice wasn’t as authoritarian than usually.
“I want to help. I can’t just sit here and do nothing! It was our colleague who got killed! Our friend! And Angela was kidnapped! We need to find out where La Fiera is!” Lucy felt more than (Y/N). You could hear it because of her breaking voice.
“It was an order, Officer Chen. Go home. Like I said, I’ll have you called in if there is any more information that there is now.”
“With all due respect Sir, but that’s my fiancée and I won’t go home until I know where she is and if the baby is healthy. I won’t go home until my pregnant wife-to-be is home with me again.” (Y/N) had completely forgotten that Wesley was here too. It was just logical; his fiancée was missing and he wouldn’t let them do their job without keeping him updated.
(Y/N) felt tears roll over her cheeks. She had just seen one of her best friends being killed. It didn’t feel real. Like she was only watching a movie and didn’t have any relation to the characters. Why couldn’t she feel more? She wanted to be mad, she wanted to be able to scream, to openly cry, but all she could was feel the silent tears rolling down her face.
She could feel a hand on her shoulder. Tim.
“You should go home. This case isn’t on us. At least not in the moment. Get some rest.”
Tim looked at her with worried eyes. Not really surprising. It was in the middle of the night. Her best friend just died – no, got killed - and she stood in the middle of the police department, crying because she didn’t know what to do. How she could get up in the next days.
“Come on.” She let Tim lead her out the office.
“I… I can’t go home. What if something happens? I… I’ll just stay here. This is the safest place right now.”
Tim looked at her… concerned. He often dealt with this kind of emergency, but Tim had never before dealt with this with his friends. Of course, he has already lost partners in the job but not like this.
“You can come with me. It would also be easier if they call us in to help them with something. Your apartment has a longer way to the department.” (Y/N) stared at him with wide eyes.
“Really? I… I don’t want to impose and you don’t feel too well either I think… your… your best friend just got kidnapped.” She really didn’t want to be an inconvenience. And what would be the looks she would get if anyone found out she stayed at her boss’ house for over the night even though they won’t do anything else that sleeping. In separate rooms.
“You won’t. Are you hungry? We didn’t really eat as the wedding didn’t take place so…?”
“I am hungry but I honestly don’t know if I can keep anything down now.” (Y/N) tried to dry her face from the tears, that finally stopped flowing.
“We can get some take-out and we try to eat and if not, we have the left-overs for tomorrow. Sounds like a plan?” (Y/N) nodded.
“Yes, that’s great. Thank you.” They slowly went to Tim’s car. The blisters the high heels gave her feet were long forgotten. They were her smallest problem right now. Somehow the physical pain even made her feel better.
They only stopped once to get the food. Quickly they decided to take Pizza, something they loved, and could easily be eaten the next day if there were some leftovers.
Tim’s house was… (Y/N) didn’t know what to say. It… fit him. Modern, but not much decoration. She took place at the table, the dress she wore was a bit disturbing.
Shit… She forgot that she doesn’t have any other clothes with her. She only had her dress, and she didn’t really want to sleep in it. It reminded her of all the things that happened today.   
“Ehm… Tim?” He stopped on his way to get 2 plates for the pizza.
“Yes? Is everything ok?” She nodded and then shook her head.
“I don’t have any clothes with me. Do you think we could get some clothes from my place?”
Tim looked at her as if she was crazy. She could somehow understand it. Her house wasn’t exactly next door. They would have to drive at least 30 minutes.  
“You know that it is a long way? Would you be ok if I gave you a shirt of mine and I still have joggers from Angela when she had an argument with Wesley and came here? I know it would be much too big but if you just slept here, I think it would work?” He looked at her with a questioning look and she nodded.
Why not? For now, it seemed like the best solution. Would it be unprofessional? Yes. Would everyone judge her if they saw her? Definitely. But right now, she had bigger problems. Jackson died. Angela got kidnapped. She kind of lost two of her best friends today.
Tim went to, which (Y/N) assumed, was his bedroom. Only a minute later he came back, a bundle of clothes in his arms.
“Here. You can go change in the bathroom. The first door on the left side.” He pointed in the direction he just came from.
“Thank you. Really.” Tim smiled. It was an exhausted but not a forced one.
“No problem at all.”
(Y/N) went to the bathroom. It was definitely more modern than her own. The shower! Wow. She would give everything just to have a hot shower.
“Tim? Could I take a short shower?” Her voice sounded weak. She didn’t have the energy to shout through the whole apartment, she just had to hope that Tim would have heard her.
“Yes. I’ll make the pizza into the oven so it doesn’t get cold, ok?”
“Thanks.”
(Y/N) didn’t remember when the last time was, that she had a proper shower, without having to stress herself because she needed to go to work. Still, she couldn’t enjoy the hot water, that was running over her body.
Suddenly, she was overwhelmed by emotions. The tears began to slow freely. She wasn’t crying as silently as she did before. Now she could only hope that Tim couldn’t hear her. She sank to the floor; the cold tiles on her back welt like ice cubes in contrast to the hot water.
She buried her face in her hands. Her brain finally realized it. Her friend was dead. Angela got kidnapped. They didn’t know what La Fiera was going to do to her. To her unborn baby. Did Angela already know that Jackson got killed?
A gentle knock was on the door.
“Are you ok, (Y/N)?” She tried to wipe away the tears. Stupid; she was in a shower.
“Yes. I’m ok.” She wasn’t and she knew that Tim could hear it. It was embarrassing. Her boss heard her cry. They weren’t even real friends. She tells him much about her life when they were on shift, but he was always a bit… reserved. They were acquaintances but nothing more.
(Y/N) was glad that Tim didn’t pry any further and she continued to sob freely. She heard how the door opened. Tim didn’t just come into the bathroom, did he? Luckily, the steam already covered the glass of the shower so he couldn’t properly see her.
He opened the door to the shower and switched off the shower. He handed her a bathrobe, which she slipped into. It was made out of very soft material. He gently pulled her out of the shower… and hugged her. A real hug. Not a hug like the ones you give when saying hello or goodbye… no… he held her.
(Y/N) didn’t know when it was the last time, she was hugged like that. She cried freely into Tim’s shirt. Right now, she wasn’t embarrassed by it. She didn’t even care about it a little bit. She was just thankful to be held.
After a few minutes, Tim led her to the living room, where he sat her on the couch, giving her a warm blanket he covered her with. Then he just sat down next to her, and continued to hold her. He didn’t say anything; didn’t ask questions. And it was exactly what (Y/N) needed at the moment.
When she finally started to calm down a bit, she wiped away her tears with her hands.
“Thank you, Tim.” Her voice trembled and sounded hoarse. If she still had her Make-up on, her face would have been black from the mascara by now.
“Nothing to thank me. It’s what a friend does.” Tim smiled weakly at her. Friends. He called them friends. She probably wouldn’t say that, but in the moment, she was thankful for it as it made the situation a bit less weird.
“I should probably get changed.” (Y/N) suddenly became aware that she wasn’t wearing anything under the bathrobe.
“Ok. Should I warm up the food? I am really hungry.” Tim looked at er with a questioning look.
“Uhm… yes… that would be great. Again, thank you.” (Y/N) hurried to the bathroom where the clothes Tim led her were still lying on the floor.
Just as she wanted to change into the clothes, Tim called her name.
“Come on we have to go! Grey has new information about Angela!” Instead of changing into the comfortable clothes, she just again slipped into her dress from the evening. Her hair was still wet but it didn’t matter at the moment.
When she stepped into the kitchen, she couldn’t help but notice Tim’s gaze at her. He scratched his neck, something she knew he did when he felt uncomfortable or nervous which has only happened once before.
“Ehm… Your… zipper isn’t properly… closed.”
Fuck! This didn’t just happen. Half of her chest was exposed… How could she not have noticed that before?! She already felt uncomfortable enough in this situation. Why did this have to happen exactly today. (Y/N) felt like she was about to cry.
She tried to close the zipper but it jammed.
“Wait let me do this.” As if the situation couldn’t get more embarrassing now her boss offered to close the zipper of her dress? If it was at least a zipper at the back of the dress but no. Why did she choose that dress today?
While Tim closed the zipper, (Y/N) only stared at the ceiling, unable to look at him.
“Ok. All done. Let’s go.” She ran to the car, as fast as it was possible in high heels. She slumped into the passenger’s seat.
“Here. Drink.” (Y/N) eyed Tim’s hand as he gave her a can of red bull.
“Oh wow. Thanks.” She was lucky he remembered to pack a few energy drinks in the back of the car, as they both were sleep deprived. And she herself was glad she packed her back with make up for the wedding, which was still in it.
She put the light on and put a bit of her make up on, so it wasn’t as obvious as before that she had cried before.
“You really do your make up now? In a driving car? Nobody is going to be interested in how you look. We have bigger problems at the moment.” (Y/N) glared at him.
Tim had been married. Didn’t he know doing make up is important for a woman? She always found it calming to do make up. It was soothing to do the precise work. Not being able to make mistakes especially not in a stressful situation.  
***
Only a few minutes later they arrived at the police department. They hurried to the Sergeant’s office. Nolan, Chen, and Nyla were already there. The only one missing was Wesley.
“Thank you for coming. Wesley’s not here. He is already in Guatemala. Lokks like he had an informer who helped him find La Fiera aka Sandra de la Cruz. We don’t know what’s going to happen. La Fiera is mentally instable especially after what happened to her son. I can’t officially send anyone to Guatemala.” Grey shot them a meaningful look.
“So, we’ll just have to wait what Wesley can do? He doesn’t have anyone there! He is an attorney! He has no chance against Sandra de la Cruz!” Nolan made a point there.
“I said I can’t officially send you there. But if I don’t know what you are going to do, I can’t prevent you from doing whatever you plan to.”
Now it was Tim speaking: “Conference room. Now. Everyone but Grey.”
***
Only an hour later everything was planned. They all were flying to Guatemala. (Y/N) has never been flying with a helicopter before, what makes her really nervous.
Next to her, sat Tim and on the opposite side were Lucy and John sat. Nyla was in the front with the pilot and in the back were two more seats for Angela and Wesley.
(Y/N) drummed her fingers on her thigh, squeezing her eyes shut as the chopper took off. She has changed into her police uniform, as the evening gown wouldn’t have been really practical for a long flight to Guatemala and probably a few shootouts.
She felt a hand on her fingers which where still drumming a rhythm. Tim’s.
“You ok, (Y/L/N)?” He was into full police mode. There wasn’t any space for kind words. They were about to free Angela and maybe even Wesley. If anyone wasn’t concentrated or anxious, they shouldn’t have come with them. It would have been irresponsible.
“I’m fine, Bradford.” Her voice didn’t sound as strong as she hoped, but everyone seemed to buy it for now.
After they finally landed, Harper, Nolan and Bradford were busy preparing the drone, while Lucy and (Y/N) looked around to make sure that they were save for now. They weren’t really near the house, but they didn’t know how careful La Fiera was.
It was already early in the morning. No one has slept in the last 24 hours, but they were so hyped up by adrenaline and energy drinks, that they barely felt how tired they were.
“Have you eaten anything in the last few hours”, asked Lucy at some point.
“A protein bar at the station but I not more. Didn’t have appetite after… after what happened yesterday. And you? Have you even been home?” (Y/N) could see that Lucy was exhausted and that she cried before. Her eyes were red and swollen.
“No. I couldn’t. I told Tamara I needed to do overtime but I don’t think she bought it. I stayed at the department and slept on a chair in the conference room. I just wasn’t able to go home to see Jackson’s stuff lying everywhere in the apartment. Where you at home? You still were in you dress when you came after Grey called you.” Lucy looked at her for a short time but not long as they still had to concentrate on La Fiera’s workers.
(Y/N) shook her head while saying: “I couldn’t go home either. Didn’t want to be alone after what happened. Tim offered me to sleep at his place.”
“Tim? Tim Bradford? Our boss Timothy Bradford?” Lucy looked really surprised but (Y/N) couldn’t blame her. She nodded.
“Yepp. He was really kind. I was very… upset earlier, so I was very thankful.”
Her friend still looked a bit shocked.
“Wow… that’s… strange. But you don’t have… feelings… for him… right?” (Y/N) laughed.
“God, no. I have to admit it had been a bit strange at the beginning but he was really understanding. He even bought pizza which is now probably cold.”
Even though she laughed, she wasn’t sure if the “feelings-theory” was that wrong. Did she have feelings for Tim? She has often questioned that before.
Every time he touched her it felt… special. She felt like her stomach felt full of butterflies. But she can’t have feelings for him, right? He was her boss and Lucy had to break up with Nolan because he had been also a rookie and not even her boss.
Damn it, why does she always have feelings for guys she cannot have. She still knows how it felt seeing Tim on her side when she woke up from surgery after she was involved in a knife attack. He said he didn’t stay in hospital all night, but she knew he was lying as he still wore the same clothes as the day before.
“Ok, the drone is ready”, Lucy and (Y/N) heard over the radio. They ran back to Bradford, Nolan and Harper. The display, that Nyla was holding, showed everything that was to see with the drone’s camera.
“Ok, they put Wesley and Angela in the trucks. It looks like she is in labor. Ok, that’s what we wanted. No. No! They drive them separated! Nolan, (Y/LN). You follow Wesley. Bradford, Chen and I, we follow Lopez to the hospital. Go!”
***
Like they were told, John and (Y/N) followed Wesley. It looked like there was only one person with him, but they couldn’t know for sure.
As (Y/N) and John followed the truck carrying Wesley, the tension in the air was palpable. Every second felt like an eternity as they carefully maintained their distance, making sure not to lose sight of the vehicle but also not to arouse suspicion. The city's neon lights flickered past, casting an eerie glow on the damp streets.
"(Y/N), are you okay?" John asked, his voice steady but concerned.
(Y/N) nodded, gripping the steering wheel tightly. "I'm fine, Nolan. Just... focused."
John glanced at her, noticing the tightness around her eyes. He knew what it felt like to be on edge, especially after a traumatic event. "We're going to get them back. Both Wesley and Angela. We just have to stay sharp."
(Y/N) appreciated his words but couldn't shake the gnawing anxiety in her stomach. She forced herself to stay in the moment, her training kicking in as she scanned the surroundings for any signs of any danger.
The truck turned into an industrial area, and (Y/N) signaled to John. "We need to be ready for anything.”
When they arrived at some kind of farm, the vehicle stopped, the person in the truck stepped out, revealing a silhouette in the bright sunlight. John and (Y/N) exchanged a glance and nodded, both ready to move.
"We need to get closer," (Y/N) whispered as they slipped out of their vehicle and crept towards the warehouse, using the shadows of the trees for cover.
They could see how Wesley got pulled out of the car, a weapon held to the side of his head.
“Faster! I don’t have the time for your games!” Just when Nolan and (Y/N) noticed that the man was about to shoot, they stepped forward.
“Drop the weapon! Now!” Suddenly, a shot rang out, and (Y/N) felt a sharp pain in her side. She gasped, stumbling and clutching her wound as she fell to the ground. John immediately dropped to her side, his eyes wide with fear and determination.
“(Y/N)! Stay with me," John urged, his hands shaking as he applied pressure to her wound. "We need backup! Officer down, officer down!" he called into his radio.
(Y/N)'s vision blurred, but she forced herself to stay conscious. "John... you need to... get Wesley..."
“I know. He is just over there. It’s going to be ok. Just stay with me.
 Back at the hospital, Tim Bradford, Lucy Chen, and Nyla Harper were on high alert, they already found Angela and were on their way to the chopper that should bring them back to LA. Tim's mind was racing, worry etched across his face. He couldn't shake the uneasy feeling in his gut, and it only intensified when he heard Nolan’s frantic call over the radio.
"Officer down. (Y/N) has been shot. We need immediate medical assistance!"
Tim's heart skipped a beat. He glanced at Lucy, who looked equally horrified, which wasn’t surprising as (Y/N) was her best friend. Lucy has already lost Jackson, just yesterday, she couldn’t bear to lose (Y/N) now too.
When they all arrived at the chopper, they found John – who already was in the chopper - desperately trying to keep (Y/N) conscious. The sight of her, pale and bleeding, hit Bradford like a train. He rushed to her side, his hands trembling as he took over from John.
"(Y/N), hang on. You're going to be okay," Tim said, his voice cracking. He couldn't hide the emotion in his eyes. "Stay with me."
She looked up at him, her vision fading but her heart swelling at his presence. "Tim... I..."
"Don't talk," Tim interrupted, his voice choked with emotion. "Save your strength. We are on our way to the hospital.”
Thanks to his time in the army, he knew how to handle shooting wounds. He pressed a shirt – he assumed it was Nolan’s – to the wound, wincing as (Y/N) cried out in pain.
“I am so, so sorry.” Tim had never felt something like that when someone got shot. Not even when he was the one shot. He had never felt this much panic. He never had to hold back tears.
Hours later, Tim sat in the waiting room, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. He couldn't lose her. Not when he finally understood what she meant to him.
"Any news?" Lucy asked, her voice trembling.
Tim shook his head, unable to speak. They sat in silence, each of them lost in their thoughts, until a doctor finally approached.
"She's stable," the doctor said, and Tim felt a rush of relief so intense it nearly knocked him over. "She lost a lot of blood, but she's going to be okay."
Tim let out a shaky breath. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice filled with gratitude.
As they were allowed into her room, Tim sat by (Y/N)'s bedside, holding her hand gently. She looked fragile, but there was a peacefulness to her face that gave him hope.
When her eyes fluttered open, she smiled weakly at him. "Hey," she whispered.
"Hey," Tim replied, his voice soft. "You scared me."
(Y/N) chuckled weakly. "Sorry about that."
Tim leaned closer; his eyes locked onto hers. "You were trying to tell me something before..."
“It was nothing. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t going to let me die there”, she whispered. She doesn’t know why she couldn’t just say the truth but this didn’t seem to be the right moment. She had just been shot. What if he assumed she was just high on morphine – which she probably was, but that’s not the point.
The point is, she has feelings for her Sergeant. For her boss. And she doesn’t know if he felt the same. She has doubts. Why would someone like Tim, who doesn’t let any feelings near him, like her? She was just another colleague of his.
“Mhm… ok. I have to go. I am on shift today, but I will come back later. And here, I’ve got you a burger and fries. Thought you don’t want to have the gross hospital food after you were shot and haven’t eaten for 35 hours.” Tim held a paper back towards her.
“Thank you. And wait… I haven’t eaten for 35 hours? That’s a record!” Tim chuckled at (Y/N)’s attempt to lighten the mood.
“See you later.”
***
A bit later, Lucy stepped into the room, what made (Y/N) happy as she has already watched three movies and started to get bored.
"Hey, you," Lucy greeted, her voice warm. "How are you feeling?"
(Y/N) managed a small smile. "I've been better. But I'm alive, thanks to you all."
Lucy pulled up a chair and sat beside the bed. "We're just glad you're okay. You really gave us all a scare."
(Y/N) hesitated, then decided to share her burden. If anyone could help her, it was Lucy. "Lucy, can I talk to you about something? Something... kind of… personal?"
Lucy raised an eyebrow, definitely intrigued. "Of course. What's up?"
(Y/N) took a deep breath, her heart pounding. "It's about Tim. I... I think…I have feelings for him. I have for a while, but I don't think I can tell him. I mean, why would he ever feel the same way about me?"
Lucy leaned back, crossing her arms with a smile tugging at her lips “I knew it. It was clear to all of us. Lopey, Harper and I, we even have a bet running when you are going to tell each other. But really, why would you think you're not enough for him?"
(Y/N) looked away, feeling a lump in her throat. "I don't know. He's just... Tim. Strong, dependable, a great leader and so, so confident. And I'm just... me."
Lucy leaned forward; her expression serious now. "Listen, (Y/N). Tim is great, but you're amazing too. You're brave, dedicated, and you've got a heart of gold. And you are so damn strong. You have just survived a shooting. If Tim doesn't see that, then he's blind. But honestly, from what I've seen, I think he does see it."
(Y/N) felt a flicker of hope but still wasn't convinced. "But what if I'm wrong? What if it ruins everything?"
“That’s the risk you’d have to take. But I really doubt it. How he looks at you? How worried he was when he heard you got shot? He even stayed in the uncomfortable hospital waiting room all night as he refused to go home in case something happened! He told Harper to get you the burger and fries in your favorite shop and was about to kill her when she wanted to go to a different one!”
(Y/N) looked at her best friend with wide eyes.
“Are you being serious?” Lucy nodded.
“I wouldn’t say that if I wasn’t.” (Y/N) looked away, tears welling up in her eyes.
Lucy sighed, reaching out to gently turn (Y/N)’s face back toward her. "Listen to me. Life is too short to hold back your feelings. If you care about him, he deserves to know. And you deserve to be happy."
(Y/N) sniffled, a small smile breaking through her fear. "But how? When? I can't just blurt it out."
They both chuckled at the thought of her randomly telling Tim she likes him.
“Maybe you tell him when you get discharged from hospital. I am sure he is going to be there because he worries about you and wants to make sure you are ok. He even volunteered to drive you to your apartment and make sure you are comfortable with staying at home without anyone”, Lucy said.
“Ok. That sounds like a plan. Thank you.” Lucy squeezed her hand and smiled at her.
“That’s what friends are for.”
***
Finally, the day of her discharge came, and (Y/N) has thought about this moment a lot. How would she tell Tim? Where? When they are still driving to her apartment or should she invite him into her apartment to talk to him? She has never been the one to tell the other person she’s in love with them.
Tim entered her hospital room, where she sat on her bed, wearing joggers and a wide shirt. She knew she didn’t look her best, but if Tim expected something different, only 5 days after she had been shot, he would be stupid.
“Hey. Are you ready to go home?” Tim stepped into the room, smiling softly at her. Had Lucy been right? Did he really feel the same for her as she did for him? He wasn’t the mean, strong man in this moment. He looked… she didn’t even know how to say it… softer than usually?
“More than ready. 5 days in a hospital without proper Wi-Fi is definitely too long.” Tim chuckled.
“Ok, come on. Can you walk on your own?” (Y/N) nodded even though she wasn’t so sure. Yes, the meds they gave her are good, but not as good as she didn’t feel the pain in her abdomen where the bullet hit her spleen.
She slowly got up from bed, trying not to wince because of the pain she felt.
“Let me help you.” (Y/N) didn’t even react before she felt Tims arm around her, helping her to stay upright.
Somehow, they managed to go to the car, and (Y/N) took a deep breath when she finally sat in the comfortable passenger seat of Tim’s car.
“Are you sure you are alright being home again? Without help? You didn’t even manage to go to the car properly.“
(Y/N) waved him off.
“I am going to be ok. The meds only start to wear off but it is going to be better once I have taken the new painkillers they gave me.”
“Mhm…”
While they drove, it was quite silent. (Y/N) thought about how to tell Tim how she felt about him, because she still wasn’t sure how to break the news.
The car came to a gentle stop in front of her apartment building. Tim turned off the engine and looked over at her. "You sure you're ready for this? I can stay for a bit if you need help getting settled."
(Y/N) nodded, taking a deep breath. "Actually, Tim, I was hoping you would come in for a bit. There's something I need to talk to you about."
Tim's brow furrowed with curiosity, but he nodded and got out of the car, helping her carefully navigate her way to her apartment. Once inside, she guided him to the living room, the familiarity of the space giving her comfort.
"Sit down, please," (Y/N) said, her voice sounded higher than usually. She motioned to the couch, and Tim obliged, his eyes never leaving hers.
"What's on your mind?" Tim asked, his tone gentle but also worried. And maybe a bit panicked?
(Y/N) took a seat beside him, her hands twisting nervously in her lap. "Tim, I... I need to tell you something kind of really important. It's been on my mind for a while now, and after everything that has happened, I just can't keep it to myself for longer."
Tim leaned forward, his full attention on her. "You can tell me anything. You know that."
She took a deep breath, her heart racing. "Tim, I... I think I have feelings for you. I know it's probably not appropriate, and I know you're my boss, but I can't help it. I care about you, more than just as a colleague or a friend."
The words hung in the air, and for a moment, (Y/N) feared the worst. Tim's expression was unreadable, and she braced herself for rejection.
But then Tim reached out, taking her hand in his. His touch was warm, reassuring. "I don't know what to say," he began, his voice soft. "Except that I feel the same way. I have felt like this for quite a while now. I care about you a lot, and it scared me to think I might lose you when you got shot and laid there."
(Y/N)'s eyes filled with tears, a mixture of relief and overwhelming emotion. "Really? I was so scared you wouldn't feel the same."
Tim smiled; a rare, genuine smile that even made her heart skip a beat. "It was hard to admit, even to myself. But seeing you hurt, thinking about what could have happened... it made me realize how much you mean to me."
There was an awkward silence for a moment, both of them processing the magnitude of what they had just confessed. Then, Tim chuckled softly. "I guess we're both pretty bad at this, huh?"
(Y/N) laughed, wiping a tear from her cheek. "Yeah, I guess we are. But I'm glad we finally talked about it."
“Me too.” Tim swiped his thumb over the back of (Y/N)’s hand, which he still had in his own.
“Tim? Is… is it ok if I kiss you?” Instead of an answer, Tim leaned into her direction, and kissed her like she never had been kissed before.
In this moment she knew that she loved this man. He has always been there for her. He was the person she talked about everything that happened in her life.
When Tim let go of her again, (Y/N) opened her mouth to say something.
“Was everything… with us… why you have always reacted so jealous and… tight… when I talked about my last boyfriends?”
Tim looked at her, his lips swollen from their kiss.
“Maybe… but I wouldn’t have wanted it differently. I loved listening to everything that happened in your life. And you always smiled so sweet when you talked about everything. I loved listening to you. I still have the records of when you recorded my books I had to learn for the sergeant test. Thank you.”
 “What are you thanking me for?” (Y/N) looked at Tim confused.
“For being you. For making me laugh. For trusting me. Simply for everything. But I believe we aren’t allowed to work together from now on.”
“What if we didn’t tell anyone we are a couple?” Tim raised his brow at the question, before shrugging.
“I think that could work too.”  
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slutfics · 7 months ago
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ᥫ᭡. BOYFRIEND KANKURO .ᐟ
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warnings & content. adult content. afab reader, no pronouns included(?). very small nsfw but not too much. established relationships, fluff.
writers note. im having a kankuro brainrot, im gaining ideas every time and it’s controlling, the tags are going to be filled with my content and shit (probably). but if you do end up writing for kankuro and perhaps obito, please tag me, im literally being deprived of them.
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boyfriend kankuro who’s love language is making fun of his significant other for the hell of it. you would need to have a tough heart to be his partner, because he needs to have those kind of moments with them. yes they are light and he knows his limits, doesn’t make fun of you of your past and traumas, those are one of the few things he doesn’t joke about. insults are his petnames, however he does use ‘babe’ for you.
boyfriend kankuro who gets jealous easily when someone else is talking to you, he will pull the ‘i don’t know, why don’t you go ask your other lover.’ move on you, he will give you the silent treatment for awhile before he’s all up on you, wanting to cuddle and kiss you. he has issues and is afraid of you leaving him for someone else, he needs a lot of reassuring. he loves and trust you, it’s just the other one who he doesn’t trust.
boyfriend kankuro who loves getting kisses before he leaves for work, he loves getting them in morning, before bed and during work hours. he loves having your soft lips on his own whenever he gets the chance. however, this is mostly away from others, he will only kiss you when the two of you are alone. he’s not a big fan of pda he prefers to keep his affection hidden from others, but he will hold your hand in public and give you welcoming kisses and that’s about it.
boyfriend kankuro who can’t resist the urge to slap your ass whenever he walks past you or you laying in bed, comfortably, only for his heavy hand to smack down on your poor ass. kankuro isn’t an ass man by all means, he just thinks it’s funny to startle you and hearing a small yelp coming from you. do it to him and there will be consequences for your actions. he has a nice ass actually, nice and full, it’s all the working out he does, just give it a hard squeeze and it’s over for you. he honestly thinks a bit funny, just don’t do it too much.
boyfriend kankuro who loves having his hair played with while he lays on your chest after a particular long day of ninja work. he won’t admit it to you, you’ll just have to figure that information out on your own. he’ll sigh loudly and have his head on your shoulder or simply lay on your chest and look up at you in hopes you get the silent message, he’ll also groan loudly until you look at him, that’s when you’ll know what he wants. he looks at you almost silently begging you to run your fingers through his spiky hair. he loves those feelings you give him and he will quickly fall asleep.
boyfriend kankuro who likes to finger you during a mission together inside your tent as everyone else is soundly asleep, with a few ninjas at watch. he will whisper into your ear, while watching you try to hold in your cries as he magically moves his fingers wonderfully inside you, rubbing your walls and curling against that one spot that has you throwing your head back and biting down on your lower lip harshly. he’ll hold down your hips with his other hand if you tried to grind against him. he’s doesn’t want you finishing just yet.
boyfriend kankuro who loves to eat you out after a stressful day at the kazekage office or mission. he will have your legs over his broad shoulders, keeping you spread open for him so he can stuff his fingers inside of your soaking core while his wet lips are latched around your clit. kankuro is a strong man, all he simply needs is a single arm on your abdomen to keep you from moving against him. he’ll stare up at you with a hazy gaze while flicking his tongue against your sensitive nub. he loves how your stomach tenses and how your walls squeezing his fingers. he can have his face between your thighs all night.
boyfriend kankuro who loves when you request a blowjob, especially after he’s done with his puppet building or after training. he loves the feeling of your pretty mouth wrapped around his pulsing cock. he’s clarified a head pusher when he’s close to cumming. he’s also a grower not a show-er. grunts and moans will leave him as he has a tight grip on your hair, rutting into your warm mouth, feeling the wonderful tension of your throat squeezing him, he also loves the way your eyes water when you try to take him deeper down your throat and surpass the gag.
boyfriend kankuro who loves to dirty you with his face paint. your skin will be covered with purple smudges of paint, between your thighs, your neck, your shoulders, any part of your body that he’s capable of reaching, his paint will no longer be neat, but smudge and messy. it really turns him on seeing you such a mess, especially when your panting and sweaty, he can’t help but wanting to go for another round with you. he thinks you’re the prettiest when you’re covered with something of his.
boyfriend kankuro who loves doing ‘corny romantic’ things with you, whether it’ll be cooking, baking, even going as far as talking about the future with you, he adores these soft moments, it makes him feel warm and fuzzy. he could spend the rest of his life with you and he genuinely sees a bright future with you and he hopes he can have that. he will actually lose his mind if the relationship ever ends. you don’t ever have to worry about his loyalty to you, he solely belongs to you and you to him.
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© SLUTFICS. . . please do not repost, steal, copy or publish my works on other platforms, however reblogging and ♡ are greatly appreciated.
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callsign-dexter · 10 months ago
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Unraveling Desires
Request: Ohhhh those are great! ❤️
39. "Another kiss like that and I won't be held responsible for my actions." with Tim Bradford pleeeease 😊
Prompt: Another kiss like that and I won't be held responsible for my actions.
Pairings: Tim Bradford x Police K-9 Officer!Wife!Reader
Warnings:
Kiss Prompts
Masterlist
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You and Tim had known each other for a while now and awhile means that you both are married and have been for 5 years. You two truly loved each other and wouldn’t trade each other for other people. You two were happy with each other and you wouldn’t change that for anything. The both of you sometimes had the same shift and while he was with a trainee you were out on your own and loving it you were also a K-9 handler, you absolutely adored Lucy Chen and she was a good friend you also have her dirt on Tim that she could use against him. When he found out you were doing this you usually got it when he saw you next but you weren’t complaining.
It just happened that you both had the same shift this time and you loved it because you could tease your husband and he wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. You had just woken up to the sound of your alarm going off. You laid there in a bed for a few minutes watching your husband sleep and then smirked when a brilliant idea came to your mind. You leaned over and snuggled into him and then you slowly started to kiss him. First you started at the shell of his ear and then slowly made your way down his neck. He started to stir but had yet to wake up. You smirked and continued your attack and you slowly started to kiss his shirtless chest and trailing your hand up and down his stomach getting close to where you knew he needed you the most but you didn’t. You started to kiss down his sternum and then to his stomach and right before you got to his underwear started you looked up and noticed him looking at you and you smiled “Good morning.” You said and then got up and strutted to the bathroom and you could just see the look on his face.
“Hey, get over here and finish what you started.” He said sitting up on his elbows and you turned around with your toothbrush in your hand.
“What if I don’t?” You asked after you spit out the toothpaste and rinsed out your mouth. Then crawled into bed and startled him. He smirked and then flipped you over where he was now straddling you and he started kissing you.
“You’ll find out.” He said and then kissed you and trailed down until he got to your pajama pants and then stopped and then looked up and smirked then got off and started to get ready for the day.
“Fucking tease.” You said and he smirked.
“You started it, wife.” He said 
“Oh, it’s on, husband.” You said and the both of you got ready. Where he changes at the station you don’t since you have your K-9 partner, Rocky. Once changed you walked out of the bedroom to where Rocky was kenneled and let him out. You let him out and then fed him. When you got done Tim had walked out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, Rocky greeted him and then you were handing him his coffee cup.
“Wanna try and meet up for lunch?” You asked him and he nodded.
“You know I do; everyone loves seeing you and Rocky.” He said and at the sound of his name the Mahogany colored Belgian Malinois perked up and barked at his name and you and Tim laughed. You walked over to where you kept his stuff and got his collar that said ‘POLICE K-9 DO NOT TOUCH’ you called him over and spoke the command to sit in German and he did so and you clipped the collar on. You then slipped his bullet proof vest on. Tim looked at you in awe. He loved it when you spoke a different language. “You two have a good day. Rocky, you protect our girl.” He said and he barked as if saying ‘You got it!’ and then walked over and kissed you and you kissed back and off you went with your loyal partner out the door and into the K-9 police cruiser. Normally all police cars had to stay at the station but K-9 handlers were allowed to take theirs home because they have to transport their animal.
You drove to the station to check in and start your day. The drive was pretty quick and you made it there in no time just about the time your husband pulled in at the same time and you rolled your eyes. You parked your cruiser in the designated parking spot and got out letting Rocky out at the same time. Tim walked over and waited for you. “Were you tailing us?” You asked with a hint of playfulness in your voice.
“Now why would I do that?” He asked and then pecked you on the lips and you pushed him away.
“We’re at work.” You said but smirked because you and he knew that you didn’t care. 
“Your point is?” He asked and you shook your head and the both of you started your walk in. You had different bosses since you were in different departments but it was on the same floor. You once again parted ways while he got dressed and you went to check in with your boss. Once you were done you walked by the briefing room and smirked seeing your husband sitting there and when he caught sight of Rocky, he looked at you and smiled and then you were on your way. Wade Grey caught this but didn’t say anything. Both you and Tim were well respected in both of your departments and they knew not to mess with you. 
By the time they were out on the road you had been out for at least 30 minutes and when you heard them check in you smirked “Time to have some fun.” You said and got on the radio. “About time you guys got to work.” You said and waited for a response and Tim was the first.
“Aren’t you supposed to be working?” Tim asked 
“I am. Been working for about 30 minutes now.” You said with a smirk and you could just see him roll his eyes. It was silent for about 10 minutes then Lucy came over the radio. The over the radio banter went back and forth. You all answered some calls and some you ended up together on. Nolan, Jackson, Angela, and Talia loved you and when they saw you and Rocky in action they were always in awe. After the call Tim met you at your cruiser leaning up on it. 
“You’re so sexy when you’re in action.” He said and you rolled your eyes but smiled as you put Rocky into his built-in kennel and you left the door open.
“So are you.” You replied and he smirked just then another call came in for a K-9 unit and you responded and then turned to your husband “Duty calls.” You said and closed Rocky’s door and hopped into the driver's side and headed off to the call. The call involved some tracking but, in the end, you got the suspect. 
Lunch time rolled around and you met Tim and the others at the usual place and went and sat with them while taking Rocky with you so he could stretch his legs. “Y/N how do you keep this man in line?” Angela asked with a smirk and Tim rolled his eyes and you laughed.
“It's easy. I just withhold sex. Works like a charm every time.” You said and they laughed with you while he rolled his eyes but he knew it was true.
“Do you like working in the K-9 department?” Nolan asked and you smiled and nodded.
“I love it. Rocky here is my companion and he listens and doesn’t talk back.” You said and they laughed.
“Hey, I listen.” Tim said 
“Yes, but you also talk back sometimes.” You said and he rolled his eyes “Love you.” You spoke
“I love you too.” He replied
“How did you meet?” Lucy asked 
“I actually met Tim on a call and he was so impressed by Rocky and I that he asked me out and the rest is history.” You said and before they could respond your radio went off requesting K-9 back-up and you responded and off you and Rocky went. 
You didn’t see any of them again for the rest of the day and night. The next time you saw Tim was when he had gotten home and you were already home. You had already changed and had dinner going when he walked through the door. “There’s my sexy wife.” He said and you smiled and walked over and wrapped his arms around your hips.
“And there is my handsome husband.” You said turning your head to kiss him. “How was your day?” You asked him when you released each other from the kiss.
“Long. Had a lot more calls this time.” He said “Yours?” He asked going to fridge and opening it to grab two beers and petting Rocky’s head.
“It was good. We had a lot of calls too and some traffic stops.” You said and he nodded and took the beer when he offered it.
“Nobody got hurt?” He asked and you shook your head.
“Nope, just the suspects that decided to hide or run.” You said chuckling and so did he. You turned off the stove “Supper is ready.” You said and he grabbed two plates and handed you one. You both got your plates and went and sat down and began to eat.
Supper was eaten in a comfortable setting with some talking about anything and everything. It was done you went over and startled his lap and kissed him with passion and fire and he responded. When you pulled away his pupils were blown and you had no doubt yours was too. “Another kiss like that and I won't be held responsible for my actions.” He said and a smirk grew on your face and you kissed him again with the same ferocity as the first kiss and he knew what you wanted. He got up quickly knocking the chair over and then started for the bedroom planning on finishing what you both started that morning. You were in for a long night and you were so ready for it and so was he.
Tag list:
@kmc1989
@els-marvelvsp
@atarmychick007
@nyx2021
@grandstrangerphantom
@angenu01-blog
@talesofreading
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complete-clownery · 5 months ago
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Human SWK and Mac for the soul
Long rant about the au idea ⬇️⬇️⬇️
Actually they're for my detective au I'm not really talking about but I do have this fun little animatic idea in my head to Michael Bublé - Better be tonight, where MK and Wukong beat up a lot of people behind the scenes in the bar while Macaque distracts the audience with a performance lol haha how silly of me
But yeah the au would be Wukong is a private detective who has already retired, and MK (a young detective working for the police (dw were all about acab here, so Mk would realize how shitty the police system is and leave)) would seek him out for help with a case about some underground Mafia business
(probably something I would do with LBD and the Demon bull family but who knows), and Wukong decides to help him MK and also just teach him stuff along the way while also guiding him away from the police force
(probably something something Wukong worked as a detective in there, jttw event converted into detective cases idk, celestials as the justice system ect ect),
but they would ultimately work together on the case and would cross paths with Macaque (who needs a proper human name) Wukongs former partner (partner as in work related business but yeah they were also fucking), who will probably stab them in the back at some point in the story LBD pressure and whatnot,
but yeah on normal days Mac works a shitty job in an office, but Wukong swears up and down that Mac is up to something shady (and he is kinda right) (also side note: every individual in the office regardless of gender has had an office crush on Macaque at some point lol)
Also Wukong when he worked at the police actually got himself quite the name and so people know about him, kinda was the face of the police force at some point, and MK decides to be a detective bc of Wukong, (but that was kind of a given, even tho in the show before getting his powers MK wasn't really interested in becoming a here and this was also a key plot point in season 4 MK not wanting to do all the crazy magic shit and wanting to go back to being just a delivery boy and sometimes beating up the eventual villain of the week, but whatevs)
They're in their 40s maybe early 50s but Wukong somehow still looks 20-30 years old nobody knows how he does it, everyone else is kinda the same age in the show
They're also in America for this cuz--- this is a 90s 80s detective show just because I want it to be--- how did the characters from China end up here idk :| something something emigration or maybe the au can stay in China idk man Im making up half of this as I'm writing but it's fun I like the rotate my little aus in my brain
But yeah its just a fun little idea in my head that is going to stay just that, never manifesting into something more
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jedi-bird · 2 years ago
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Put out the boxes and bags for this week's donation (and either counted wrong or misplaced some because there was less than I had thought). Took it the trash. Made tea. Sat down and promptly fell asleep, forgetting about said tea. Managed to wake up a bit and now I'm trying to decide if I should go through more stuff before the truck gets here, work on packing up and moving my stuff out of the office, or just saying fuck it and writing all day.
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carolmunson · 1 year ago
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always something there to remind me (s.h.)
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summary: ten years after the sealing of the upside-down, you and your fiance steve head to a cookout to unwind during memorial day weekend. with steve on edge after a rough half sleep full of night terrors, you hope the day can be salvaged by seeing the party and just relaxing, but a violent thunderstorm changes those plans for the worse. pairings: steve x reader, lumax, edancy. heavy on the steddie brotp tho.
tw: 18+ as always. this story deals with themes of mental illness and ptsd, it is only intended for mature audiences. descriptions of ptsd flashbacks, internal and external (please be advised they are dramatizations). partner violence (unintentional). drinking/smoking. discussions of mental illness. very moody steve but very soft steve. features some tense arguments. smut, like, very loving and passionate smut. this relationship is not perfect, it's also a depiction of a moment in time in 1997. the emotional load was very much a woman's job and i personally think steve would be 'too proud' to be 'too soft' about his stuff. so there are parts that seem kind of 'eh' but -- that's just how things were sorta. gif by @kingofscoops
His pill case sounded like a rattle when you took it from the medicine cabinet, taking it into the kitchen where he was shrugging on his freshly ironed polo. The ironing board and hot iron still set up by the counter. The black stone contrasted nicely against your cherry wood cabinets that he installed two summers ago. That was when you both thought he might be getting better: the night terrors were less and less frequent, the flashbacks far and few between, he was less tense, less irritable. Seeking you constantly for soft touches and kisses, any kind of affection he could pull from you he'd take willingly. Two years ago was your two year anniversary -- when he finally told you the real story. Why he had all those scars, why he can't sleep, why he wakes up in a cold sweat crying. Why you'd never been able to figure out which health care company was providing him with so much medication and therapy when he was working part time at the hospital -- it's because it was the FBI.
It was two years ago where they took you to an underground office where they told you everything. Steve sat next to you, gripping your hand so tightly you thought it might break. They reassured over and over that nothing was coming back, that everything was over, but that Steve and his friends will likely never recover emotionally and mentally from what they endured. Four years into things now, you were both his fiance and his nurse. You checked in monthly with his caseworking team, but in these last few months, they've had nothing but shaky reports. You wondered if maybe his mind just isn't as sharp as it used to be -- you both just entered your thirties, maybe things get knocked loose quicker when you've been to hell and back. "Here, honey," you say softly, putting his pill case on the table. He looks at them and sighs, amber eyes lingering on the 'Saturday' section of the pill box. "Let me get you some wa--" "You don't need to give me my pills every day," he says -- it's soft and sharp, "I know I have to take them. I've been takin' them for ten years."
You offer him a tight smile, "I know, Stevie..." You trail off. 'It's important that he feels in control of the situation, a lot of his role when he was in this situation was to protect others. Try not to baby him about it, he might be fragile, but he doesn't like to feel like he is.'
"It's just...I don't want a repeat of last year," you quietly remind him. He had gotten too sure of himself when he started to feel better -- missing days, stopping altogether, off and on.
He reaches for the pill case and pops open the Saturday square, tossing the main five pills into his palm and then into his mouth. Pain, anti-depressant, anti-anxiety, migraine, blood thinner. The heavy stuff sat in the cabinet above the fridge: Quaaludes, Oxycontin, Sumatriptan, Clozapine -- among others. Every day was a reminder to him that he didn't come out of this a stronger person. His dad let him know that at every visit, treating him like he had a son made of glass. "Don't," he says after he swallows, "Don't start with me."
Your eyes narrow in on the finger he puts up in warning and travels down to his big hand, a vein popping in his forearm and under the band of his watch. His bicep flexes against his polo, you follow it across the expanse of his chest and down the other arm, landing back on the pill case.
You knew last night what kind of day it would be this morning. Desperate reaches for you while he woke up from another nightmare, his damp chest up against yours while he hid his face in your neck. He hugs you so tightly to him so he doesn't float away, and you match his strength as best you can until he falls back asleep. Sometimes it takes hours of stroking his hair and soothing him before he feels safe enough to even close his eyes. In the years you've been together, he's been more and more embarrassed over these needier nights. 'It's just, baby -- I'm a man. I have to get over all this shit.'
"I'm not starting anyth--" "You are," he warns, eyes narrowing. He clenches his jaw, "Don't."
"M'sorry," you breath out. You take the pill case when he sets it back down and bring it back upstairs to the main bathroom. You refill the case before placing it back in the medicine cabinet with a sigh. When it closes you look at yourself in the mirror, no longer the fresh 26 year old he met at the hospital admin desk when he started his part time job as an assistant in the children's psych floor. Gaining hours towards getting his pediatric therapist licensure to help kids who were like him and his friends -- well, sort of. To some extent. You smooth over your button down dress, his favorite one in your closet -- navy blue with beige flowers littering the fabric. It flounces over you in dips and swoops, falling just under your knee. Another sigh and you grab your purse from the bedroom and slip on your sandals, clip clopping down the stairs where you hear him grab the keys. Another Saturday morning where the group gets together and just hangs out, even though Steve sees Eddie, Rob, and Dustin pretty often throughout the week. They've been doing it for years now, but the outside buzzed with the promise of summer, Memorial Day weekend making everyone feel more at ease. Everyone except Steve.
He slams the car door when he gets in the drivers seat, making you jump in the leather of his Lexus. He runs his hands over his jean clad thighs, having grown in size over the last six years with age and trips to the gym. 'I just wanna be in like, peak physical condition if anything tries to come back. I wanna be more ready than when I was a kid, y'know?' And while the muscle was certainly titilating, it made for a very wary you when things went left. "Don't be like that, Stevie," you say softly, your voice calm and gentle like it is with patients on the floor, "I promise I wasn't trying to get on your case. Do you -- I don't know, do you wanna just stay home?" "No," he snaps, looking ahead toward the road as he starts the car, "I didn't pack a cooler full of all the shit you made for this cook-out just the stay home." "Can you relax?" you ask a little harsher than you planned, "Are you even good to drive?" "I'm good. To drive," he says through gritted teeth, pulling down the street. "Are you sure? 'Cause -- Honey you -- you didn't sleep so good last night and I --" He hits the breaks hard, stopping short at a stop light turning to look at you, tilting his head a bit to glare at you down the slope of his straight nose.
"Drop it," he says, the tenseness in his voice sends a chill up your spine. "Stevie I'm not trying t --" "Drop. It." he warns again, "Don't make me raise my voice at you." "Don't talk to me like that," you say sharply while he pulls the car forward when the light turns green. "Then don't talk to me like I'm a fucking child," he snaps back. "Well maybe if you didn't have an attitude with me like one I wouldn't have to," you cross your arms over your seat belt and huff. He shakes his head slowly, tongue tight between his teeth. He thought he knew better than to fall in love with someone who had a tongue as sharp as his. "You're askin' for an argument when you say shit like that to me," he says lowly, the Lexus crunching over helicopter seeds while he navigates through the neighborhood. You see his shoulders rise and fall while he attempts to steady himself -- fuse lit and ready to blow. "I'm sorry," you follow up, a deep breath filling your chest. You uncross your arms to lean your elbow on the edge of the window, resting your cheek in your hand, "I didn't mean that." "You did," he responds, tight and frustrated, quiet. He hastily reaches into his back pocket with one hand, eyes still on the road. Steve pops a cigarette between his full lips and you sigh at the sound of the lighter flicking. “What’s wrong now, hm?” he asks while the cigarette dangles from the corner of his mouth, “What’s your problem?” “Nothing,” you say – it’s something. He takes a drag and blows the smoke out the open window, “It’s just that you bought that pack yesterday and it’s already half way gone. You always chain smoke when you –” “Give me a fucking break,” he snaps, voice raising with each word, “God, can you let me have fuckin’ anything?” “No Steve, I guess not. God forbid I look out for your heal–” you start sarcastically. “Look out for yourself, baby,” he says sharply into the rearview so you can see his glare, “I’m doin’ just fine without you on my back.” You bicker the rest of the way to Ed and Nancy’s house, he only raises his voice one more time. 
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Eddie and Nancy's wedding was one for the ages, something about the mixture of straight laced and all over the place that made sense when they tied the knot. The pair, you were told, seemed unlikely until Eddie was in recovery after being removed from the Upside Down. He was down there for six months, tested on for another six. The Party and the older kids would visit him every day, keeping him updated and fed and hydrated. They'd cheer him on when he made advances in his mobility -- but for the most part he just needed rest. Nancy was working a lot, throwing herself into journalism like she always wanted, so she'd come to the hospital late. She wasn't really one for small talk so instead, she'd just read. She'd read aloud while he was asleep, her voice slow and calm -- stoic. Keeping him lulled like still water, she didn't even know if he knew she was there. One night, she picked up where she left off on the first installment of Lord of the Rings, continuing in her soft stoic voice. She watched him lay there with his eyes closed, breath steady, the beeps of the hospital machines in quiet rhythm with him. She at frist felt silly before she started, but maybe in his dreams he could hear her, and maybe just maybe if she does something fun, he won't have nightmares tonight. So she tries it...she puts on a silly voice for Samwise, and she continues with her silly voices. Gruff and manly for Aragorn, gleeful for Sam, some weird form of Scottish for Gimli. She bites her lip, smiling as she tries each one, shaking her curly head at her ridiculousness and stops. Then she hears it...the low rumbling giggle from Eddie in his hospital bed. "Keep going, it's funny..." he said with a grin, eyes still closed. "You can hear me?" she asked, trying to stifle her giggle. "I can hear you every night," he said, eyes peering open slightly, "It's the best." "Do you want me to keep reading?" she asked with a blush. He nods, a soft grin pulling up on his lips while he eyes closes again, "Only if you do the voices."
When you park in the driveway it's clear that the rest of the group arrived before you, their cars already Tetris'd into their places. Steve lugs the cooler out of the back seat with a grunt, hoisting it to rest on his broad shoulder. You roll your eyes at his machismo, like someone is watching him at all times and he has something to prove. You both walk to the back, the sounds of music and conversation and laughter bubbling louder and louder as you get to the gate of the yard.
A symphony of 'Heeeyyy!' and 'There he is!' and 'Finally!' come from the group as he opens the gate and you follow in toe. Eddie comes over quickly to help with the cooler, his hair still as long as it was when he was 20 – the only real updates being his five o’clock shadow and the ring in his nose. A few more weary tired lines by his eyes. His home made Iron Maiden muscle tee had a small sweat mark by the neckline – they must’ve been out here getting ready all morning. “Hey man,” he grins when the cooler gets set down, pulling Steve in for a tight hug. “Hey,” Steve smiles, patting his back hard, savoring the hold. “You alright?” Eddie asks when he lets go, putting a hand to his face, “You feeling okay?” Steve smiles tightly and nods but Eddie only half buys it, returning his look before turning to you. He comes forward, kissing both your cheeks with his full lips, scruff scratching at your skin, “Hi, sweetheart.” “Hi Ed,” you grin, watching everyone else come up to say their hellos. “Where’s Nance?” Steve asks, but his question is answered when she waddles out of the sliding door of the kitchen with a pitcher of lemonade. From the back, you’d have no idea she was seven months pregnant, but from the side – let’s just say, it was gonna be a real big boy. “Honey, what did I say?” Eddie calls out, walking over to her and taking the pitcher. “It’s not even heavy,” she chides back with an exasperated eye roll. You giggle at their bickering, listening to their sweet back and forth with a gentle ache in your chest. You wonder if Steve will be the same way when you’re pregnant. You wonder if the back and forths will sound so sweet, so innocent, so soft. Your thoughts are interrupted by the sound of the cooler opening, turning to look and grab what you can to put in the fridge inside. Steve takes the meat out to put by the grill and a few appetizers that you put together last nice. You take the icebox cake and chocolate covered strawberries, hurrying with them through the sliding door into the kitchen. “I know, mommy just thinks she can do it all,” Eddie coos, resting his hands on Nancy’s stomach while she slices cheeseburger toppings on the counter, “She just won’t rest, are you gonna be like that too? You gonna run me ragged? You gonna be just like mommy?” Nancy laughs and it’s half airy, half from deep in her belly, “Look, it’s just better if I’m active so that I’m not surprised by it when he’s born.” “I know,” he says, kissing her cheek, “I know. You still love me, Wheeler?” “Love you always,” she grins, blushing when she sees you come in with desserts, “Oh! Oh my goodness, let me help you!” “I got it!” you say, “Just hope there’s room in the fridge!” When everything’s loaded up you give each other a hug, watching as Eddie and Steve have a mildly stern conversation about who is grilling what. ‘It’s my grill.’  ‘And? It’s my meat.’ 
“Do you think they should just kiss?” you ask while you watch them. “Honestly, I feel like they need to at this point," she laughs, "Go on outside, I’ll be out in a few,” Nancy encourages and you make your way back out into the very early summer heat – mugginess starting to soak the air around you. Before you know it, you’re already being pulled over to the picnic table to watch a game of Magic the Gathering between Lucas, Max, Dustin, Mike, and Will. El doesn’t come back to Hawkins very much,so you’ve been told – she’s the only person from the group you haven’t met. “So is this like D&D?” you ask, resting your cheek against your palm while you lean on the table. “Yes and no,” Max explains, looking at her options, “It’s like…” “Like poker but D&D,” Dustin says, making Mike, Will, and Lucas snort. “I think that’s the easiest way to explain it to you,” Mike says. “I trust that,” you laugh with them. You’ve been consistently hopeless with trying to learn the mechanics of Dungeons and Dragons but still enjoy watching, loving it more when Steve decides to join a campaign. He lets loose in ways you’ve never seen when he does, smiling and laughing, free like a child in the summertime. The sun beating on your back suddenly disappears when you hear Steve come up behind you with a hand on your shoulder, “Can I have my glasses, honey?” “They’re in the glove box,” you say, turning around, “Why do you need them?” “Oh, is Erica making you read her thesis outline?” Lucas asks, “Just tell her to buzz off. She already passed it in.” “Sinclair – don’t be an asshole,” Steve gives him a look that can only be described as ‘bitchy’, “She wants some assurance. We need another psychologist in the family, and she’s obviously the only one smart enough to get it done.” “Rude,” Max deadpans, flicking her eyes up at him. “You’re rude, twerp,” he says back, he turns back to you after sucking his teeth, "My glasses?"
“I just said, in the glovebox,” you repeat, a little sharper than you meant to. He lets out a huff through his nose, looking at you like he can’t believe you’d get snippy with him before stomping off toward the gate of the yard. “Is he alright?” Dustin asks quietly, “I saw him on Thursday he just…I don’t know, he seems a little tense.” “He had a bad night,” you explain, toying at a splinter in the wood, “He’ll be okay.” The sun disappears again but not from the expanse of your fiance’s shoulders and chest, but from a thick cloud moving slowly across the sky. The relief from the heat is almost welcomed until you feel the humidity raise a bit in the air – a little too tight, a little too suffocating for your taste. 
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The party is in full swing while Meredith Brooks’ ‘Bitch,’ blares from the boom box, Nancy and Max screaming the lyrics with abandon while the boys groan. You smile at how much fun they’re having, the afternoon going smoothly enough that you haven’t had time to notice how cloudy the sky had become. Your eyes linger on Steve, glasses on while looking at Erica’s thesis outline with her on the back porch. He had a pen in one hand and a cigarette in the other, the fifth one in the last hour and a half.  "You got something here," he says to her, tapping his pen while continues reading, "Your argument's really strong -- especially about the rates of homelessness, it's almost always trauma related." "Well -- I am me," she says. He raises his brows and nods in agreement. "Can't spell America without Erica," he teases. You watch him, how gentle he is and how he taps through outline, asking her questions about how she feels about the finished thesis, where she got it bound, if the articles he sent over were helpful. They speak in words you don't understand, but it's okay -- he looks calmer, brows softened while they talk, so encouraging. "I'm a bitch, I'm a lover, I'm a child, I'm a mother, I'm a sinner, I'm a saint, I do not feel ashamed --"
Eddie's rasp pierces the groups singing and conversation as he belts the lyrics next to his wife. Everyone looks up to watch him go, laughing as he does. "We should cover this," he grins, "Me and the guys, we gotta cover this at the next show." "So you can get boo'd off the stage?" Mike laughs. "So I can make sure your ass doesn't get in the bar?" he asks back. Mike scowls while Dustin laughs at him -- it's always smarter to not try it with Eddie, he'd always get you back ten fold. With a jolt, you feel something cold hit your hand, looking down to see a water drop splat against your skin. Then another, and another, and another. After the fourth or fifth, the rain starts to come down -- and then it starts to pour. "Alright!" Nancy calls, "Everyone grab something and head inside." The Party rises, wincing as the rain pellets down on them while everyone grabs a foil tray or covered Pyrex filled with food. You follow suit, hurrying inside with the undressed cheeseburgers and buns, laying them safe on the counter in the kitchen. Everyone else starts to file in, Steve and Eddie turning off the grill while the sky starts to darken significantly. The first rumble of thunder sends everyone's face to a flat line -- you wished Robin wasn't spending the weekend in New York City so that you'd have someone on the front lines with you and Nancy to keep everyone at ease. Nancy and Robin definitely had their moments but had a much tighter grasp on the world around them now.
A few flashes of lightening crack followed by deep rumbles of thunder. Boom, crack! Boom, crack, crack! You notice everyone resettle themselves around the kitchen table -- jittery, quiet. You sit down across from Steve while he looks down, following the woodgrain with his finger. You keep your gaze on his chest, watching for a tell -- he swallows the frustration he feels from having your eyes on him. "It's alright guys, just a storm," Nancy reminds everyone gently while she brings in the last of the food from outside. Eddie gets her seated before opening things back on the counter, the kitchen smelling like barbecue while he opens the foils. The conversations start around you again while you sit across from Steve, the tension sitting like a weighted stone in your chest. Another flash of lightning and that's when you notice it, the twitch of his hand. The thunder rumbles and he reaches up to rub his eyes with his thumb and forefinger under his glasses. Shit. "You okay, honey?" you ask him softly. He swallows, jaw clenching, "Mhm." "Okay," you nod, trying not to bring attention to it just yet, just incase it passes. The thunder booms again and he lets out a breath through his nose, he takes his glasses off and rubs his eyes more agressively. You tap your foot under the table and he can hear it, he can hear everything in the room -- the scrapes of foil on foil. The separate conversations. Eddie's laugh while he talks to Nancy. The clinks of silverware. Ice in cups. The drumming of fingers. Your tap. Tap. Tap. Tapping. Under the fucking table could you just stop tapping your fucking foot -- The next crack of lightening is so intense it shakes the house and everyone gets quiet. 'Just a storm', Nancy reminds, but her voice sounds far away. Thunder rumbles again in the distance and he swears when the lightening flashes through the windows it's red. He rubs his eyes again, a short burst of breath coming through his nose. 'Honey?' he hears you but its like he has cotton in his ears. The thunder rumbles again, the slick squelching of vines starts to creep into the sound of it. Another crack of lighting and the lights in the kitchen flicker. But when they turn back on Steve isn't with the group anymore. He's not even in the kitchen. He's back at the Creel House. 'Baby? Steve?' your voice is distant -- does Vecna have you? Did he find you? Is he taking you away from him? Steve whimpers, getting out of the chair, pulling at the roots of his light brown locks -- desperate to pull himself out of the memory, "Help, please..."
"I'm here, Steve," you say rounding the table while the rest of the group stands back, getting ready to help. Max grabs a boom box and Lucas runs to his car to grab his tapes with everyone's favorite songs on it -- just in case. Dustin approaches him slowly, hands out in front of him while Steve shrinks to the floor, back against the cabinets. "Steve, it's me, it's Dustin," he says calmly and slowly, "You're in Eddie's kitchen, Steve." But Steve only hears Dustin saying his name -- Dustin must be in trouble. "I'm coming," Steve says, eyes shut tight, falling further away. You watch as sweat grows on his hair line and neck, muttering a fuck under you breath. This was gonna be a bad one. "Honey, honey," you continue, kneeling down in front of him to ease his hands off of his hair, "You're okay, you're safe. I'm with you." 'Honey.' He hears your voice in the distance, searching for you in the blue black haze of the Upside Down, the thick particles of dust in his eyes. The slither of vines covers the walls and the floors while he ascends the stairs -- where are Nancy and Robin? Weren't they with him? "Nance?" You watch him call out for Nancy and she goes to get up but Eddie puts his hand delicately on her shoulder. He shakes his head no at her, "Just talk to him," he says to her. 'I'm here, Steve, it's okay!' 'It's okay!' But it's not Nancy's voice, it gets more an more deep, more gravelly, more like him. Steve flinches in front of you, soft 'no, no, no's slipping from his mouth. 'Stevie...' Where are you? Does he have you? 'S̷T̴E̶V̴I̷E̵.'
The sound of Vecna's voice booms in his ears, the thunder rumbling, the red lighting flashing to light up the house. You were never here -- Vecna tricked him. He breathes hard, looking around while the vines snake around, searching for him. "Okay, okay baby," you say hurriedly, watching him while he starts to hyperventilate. You raise your voice to get through to him, "Honey you gotta take some deep breaths for me, okay? Can you hear me?" Max and Lucas come back, smacking the tape into the radio and fastforwarding until Marc Cohn's Walking In Memphis crackles through the speakers. They both heave breaths while the song plays, leaning over the table to settle down from running. "You hear the song, honey?" you ask, "Can you hear it? Talk to me, Steve." You reach your hands up, sliding slowly up his chest to rest your hands by his jaw in a soothing touch. But for Steve in the Creel House, the vines have found him, slithering up his chest and around his neck, tighter and tighter against the wall. He tenses, big hands coming up and grabbing your wrists with a grip so tight you whimper. "No, shit, shit, shit! Fuck! STOP! NO! I CAN'T!" he panics, gasping for breath while his nails dig into your forearms and drag painfully downward why he tries to pull you away. "Ow, ow baby, hey, you're hurting me," you yelp out. He doesn't stop, eyes switching from tightly closed to open and unfocused while he reaches up to your biceps, clawing at them in defense. You reach out a final time. "Honey, honey, please, it's me," you say, tears balancing on your lower lashes while he rises, taking you with him. He handles you real rough, grabbing you by the shoulders and throwing you to the ground with a loud thud. And god does it hurt.
"HEY!" Eddie's voice booms out, gruff and loud like the rumbles of thunder outside. He gets behind Steve, pulling his arms close to his chest while Steve struggles against him. Erica and Mike hurry toward you to help you slowly up off the floor. You reel at first, wanting to run back to him. "Stay in front of her Wheeler," Ed warns, "You all stay right there." You stand behind Mike with Erica who takes your hand tightly in hers. You feel the pulse of pain in your arms when you look down -- gouges and deep scrapes, the blood shines in the line of the kitchen. You shake your head out of it and watch on as Eddie and Dustin do what they can to help -- the song continues to play in the background. "No, no," Steve whimpers, twisting his wrists in Eddie's grasp to break free, but in this state Eddie is stronger. He pulls him close, Steve back to his chest while they sink back down against the cabinets. "Shh," Eddie soothes, still holding him tight, "We got you, just listen -- you're in my kitchen. You hear the song playing?" Steve grunts, thrashing while Eddie hugs him tighter to him. "Steve, listen, listen to the song," Dustin says, "Focus on me and Eddie's voice, listen." Steve struggles, less intense than before, "Shh, shh, it's okay Harrington," Eddie soothes, rocking him slowly back and forth. "They need me," Steve cries weakly, breaths slowing while he pulls again at Eddie's hold, "Gotta save 'em..." "Steve," Dustin says again, getting closer. He rubs his shoulder slowly, pressing his thumb into the joint, "We're safe, all the kids are safe." "Safe..." he repeats back. Eddie sighs a little in apprehensive relief, letting go of one wrist to run a hand over his head, turning Steve's face into his chest and holding him close. "That's right, Steve," Eddie says softly, "Safe." 'Saw the ghost of Elvis, on Union Avenue, Followed him up to the Gates of Graceland And they watched him walk right through...' Steve can hear the lyrics, warbled and tinny in the Upside Down. 'Safe, safe, safe.' Echoing through the walls -- it gets dimmer. 'Now security they did not see him, They just hovered round his tomb...' Dimmer and dimmer. 'Almost over buddy, I can tell, we're right here. You feel Henderson?' A soft warm rub on his shoulder, the lyrics to the song, Eddie's voice. The sound of vines fade away, he hears the rain, it fades to black. "Walkin' in Memphis..." Steve whispers, half confused, while his eyes open and focus -- squinting in the light of the kitchen. Overwhelmed he looks around while the room tilts on it's axis. He grips Eddie's leg tightly to steady himself, he's breaths picking up again. "It's okay buddy, it's just us," Eddie says again, "You with me?" Steve nods, face cracking while he lets out a broken sob. You can only watch while Eddie flicks his eyes up at you in another warning to not come closer yet. Dustin let's go while Eddie starts to hoist him up, wrapping Steve's arm around his shoulder while he helps him to the guest room down the hall. "C'mon big boy," he says gently, "Let's get you some rest."
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Things feel a little quiet after Eddie comes back from the guest room, he's tense -- no longer having fun the way he was before. His eyes are dark while he heads outside into the rain to have a cigarette. Lucas turns off the stereo and The Party sits back down at the kitchen table for a moment to decompress. They silently take out of the Magic the Gathering cards and start to set up again, Erica joins them seamlessly. When things seems a semblance of stable, Nancy gets up and takes your hand and leads you to the bathroom, "Let's check you out, alright?"
You sit on the toilet seat cover while Nancy takes out a first aid kit from under the sink. You listen while she hums the climax of Whitney's 'I Have Nothing' quietly, searching the medicine cabinet for some Bactine for your cuts.
"Are you okay?" she asks, taking both of your hands to outstretch your arms, she turns them to see the damage -- she tries to hide her face of disappointment but it's clear.
"I'll be fine," you say softly while she wipes down the gouges and scrapes, "I can take care of it Nance."
"No, you just -- just let me," she says softly. The Bactine stings -- so does the way she looks at you -- pitifully. You hear Eddie's boots clomp down the hallway before he shows up at the door frame of the bathroom.
"You okay, sweetheart?" he asks -- you wish people would stop asking. They only ask when they see him lose control. You do this all the time, you take care of him all the time.
"I'm okay," you repeat, "A little banged up, but y'know. It's okay."
"Does he do that alot?" Eddie asks, his jaw clenching, "Does he hurt you a lot?"
"This is one of maybe...I don't know -- four times he's gotten physical with me during an episode," you explain, "And you all know about them."
"Does he hurt you when he's here?" Eddie asks, tapping at his temple.
"No, Ed, don't be ridiculous," you sigh, exasperated that he'd even ask.
"Steve's not like that, Eddie," Nancy says, "We've been over this." "Well, here's the thing Nance," he starts, tense, "We're ten years out of this shit and no matter how bad my shit got I've never put a hand on you like that. Ever." "Eddie --" "No, no, listen," he says, "I don't like that, and I especially don't like that happening in my house in front of my pregnant wife." "And what would you like me to do about it, Ed?" you snap, "I can't -- fuck -- I can't fucking fix him for you." "I'm not asking you to fix him," he says back, a pain deep in his chest coming through with his voice, "I'm asking you to be sure that you still want to be a part of this -- your wedding's what -- October? You really wanna be worrying about this?" "For better or for worse, right?" you ask back, choking on the lump in your throat, "That's the promise." Eddie tucks his lips in, his own eyes getting teary while he scans the gouges that Nancy carefully puts bandaids over. "Ice your hip and shoulder for the first couple days," he mutters, biting the edge of his them, "After a fall like that. Then heat." You nod, quietly murmuring a thank you. "S'what my mom used to do," he says under his breath. Eddie scans you slowly one more time, swallowing hard before pushing off the door frame and walking back down the hall. You hear their bedroom door click closed in the distance. "You know how he gets," Nancy says, "Stuff like that y'know -- that's hard for him." "I know." She takes a washcloth, running it under cold water before squeezing it out. Droplets fall on the fabric of her light purple maternity shirt, leaving dark people marks on the top of her belly. She hands it to you. "Here, for his head," she says softly, "In case he's not all the way back yet."
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You creep slowly into the guest room, seeing him laying on his stomach with half his face buried in the pillow. His sculpted arms tucked under it to give him something to hold. "Baby?" you ask quietly, "You awake?" He nods with his eyes closed and you look him over -- big hulking man who needs to be held. He hates it but you can't help but love him for knowing he needs it. You put the wet face cloth on the side table, sliding down next to him while he moves over to his side. In one swift motion you've replaced the pillow -- arms wrapping tight around your waist and up your back, one hand molding over your shoulder. He hides his face in your neck and you can feel his tears on his lashes and cheeks. His shoulders shake while he cries for a while, cold sweat damp on his shirt and the back of his neck. You never check how long he cries for – as long as he does. “I’m here,” you say softly, nails grazing his scalp in a steady swipe, “I’m right here.” You adjust a bit in his hold and you feel his grip tighten slightly, a soft whine of desperation leaking from his throat. “Don’t go, please,” he begs softly. “M’not going anywhere big guy,” you soothe, “This wedding’s already put us ten grand in the hole. Where would I even go, now?” You hear a soft ‘tsss’ come out of him, a tug of a smile against the skin of your neck where he hides. 
“Oh, is that funny?” you joke, still coasting your fingers through his hair. He groans, letting his arms let go of you so he can sit up, you can see the tension in his body still. Steve looks down at you with tear stained cheeks and tired eyes, beckoning you forward with his fingers. You sit up for your thank you kiss, his warm palm cupping your cheek while he holds you gently in place. He kisses once slowly, then twice, three times – holding the last so you know he means it. When you break away he rests his forehead against yours, offering a few shallow breaths. You stand up off the bed while he sits off the edge of it, standing between his thighs. 
"Did I hurt you?" he asks softly. He asks after every episode ever since he did hurt you back when you first started dating. A swift smack to the arm that stung for a solid twenty minutes afterward with the amount of power he put into it. It welted. He cried for hours. He wrote you love letters every day for a week. 
You nod, showing him the scratches and bandages on your arms, "I think you thought I was a vine or something. You threw me. Like, to the ground. It was pretty hard."
His lower lip quivers, "No, no, no." “No, Steve,” you assure, trying to calm him, “It’s okay, you didn’t know. It’s alright, I’m alright. It was an accident.” 
His face contorts while the tears start again, his big hands reach out to your waist, pulling you close to him, "It's not okay, it's not alright."
His voice raises an octave while he cries, "I'm sorry, baby."
"It's okay, Stevie, shh," you whisper to him, he pulls you in tighter, body shaking while pressing his nose against your cheek.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he cries, sniffling, "You know I didn't mean it."
"I know you didn't," you say back, your own cry getting caught in your throat. He sniffles again, leaning back to face you, both of his hands cupping your cheeks, his thumbs rubbing the apples.
"I love you," he says with a depth and intensity that makes the lump in your throat give way. You cry with him and it breaks his heart, "I love you so much honey, you know I’d never…"
You nod, trying to calm your cry the way he was able to calm his -- so used to swallowing it up even though you'd beg him not to.
"I – shit – I have to tell you something," he says softly, hands sliding from your cheeks back down to your waist and then your hips. He looks down at the small triangle of mattress between you and the apex of his thighs.
"What's up, Steve?" you ask, running your hands through his hair again soothingly, "What is it?"
He lifts his head up, eyes shutting at the comforting touch, but when he opens them he looks defeated -- guilty, "I haven't been taking my meds at night. I was -- was flushin’ them cause I just -- baby, I don't know. I can't keep depending on this shit."
"Steve."
"I know," he nods, "I know...That's why -- that's why my shit's getting worse."
"You're not just taking this stuff to take it," you say, cupping his cheeks, "It's to keep you here. It's to keep you with me."
"I know," he repeats, voice cracking again, "I'll call my shrink tomorrow I promise. I'll get back on track. Fuck -- I'm sorry -- and I'm -- I'm sorry I was so mean to you this morning."
"It's okay," you nod, pressing a kiss to his forehead. You drop your hands and rub his shoulder, "I think we should go home, alright? We can get on the couch for the night and just rest."
"Okay," he says quietly, nodding. He slowly gets up off the bed, a little dizzy, using you for support. You both slowly walk out of the bedroom, Nancy peeking around the end of the hall.
"Everything good?" she asks.
You smile at her, "Yeah, I think we're gonna head home."
She smiles tightly, heading into the kitchen where the rest of the group still sits, eating and talking. Their heads turn when you both come into view -- soft eyes and smiles.
"I'm okay, guys," Steve nods, barely able to meet their gazes, "It's fine."
Nancy approaches you with a few tupperwares filled with food and dessert, "We'll get the cooler back to you on Tuesday."
"Don't worry about it," you smile, gathering the tupperware in your arms. You watch as the group gets up one by one to give Steve a hug goodbye. Their movements are slow and controlled, warning touches on his shoulders beforehand to remind him ‘It’s just me, it’s just my arms, I’m hugging you’. Soft mumbled words of support, nothing too loud – don’t startle each other. Wraiths of the friendship they all shared earlier. Rehearsed reactions to all of their sensitive needs – if you’ve seen one episode, you’ve seen all of theirs. And you had, once or twice. “I’ll get a copy bound for you,” Erica says while she hugs him. “You make me so proud, Sinclair,” he smiles. Nancy walks you both to the door and you turn, “How’s Ed?” “He’ll call later,” she nods, a look behind her eyes that matches yours. You hug goodbye, share quick reminders about food for the baby shower and a few crafty decoration plans before heading to the car with a very tired Steve. The rain patters on the hood of the Lexus while you both sit in the leather interior, this time with you in the driver's seat. He rubs at his temples with his eyes closed while you rifle through your purse for a sandwich baggie of emergency migraine medicine. “Here,” you say, handing him the pill, “Before it starts to get bad.” “Hmm,” he grumbles in agreement, popping it in his dry mouth to suck it down.  “We’ll be home soon, okay?” you say, hand coming down on his thigh reassuringly, “Just close your eyes for now.” 
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He takes the tupperwares when you get out of the car, fishing his keys out of his back pocket while he does. His strides are long while you hurry up behind him, following him into the house only to bump into his back while he’s stopped by the thermostat to turn on the air. “Sorry,” you say softly. “S’okay,” he replies back, barely above a whisper. He puts the food in the fridge while you head upstairs to start a shower, a ritual you’ve both come to learn well after days or nights like these. You take out the good soap, the shower oil, all the aroma therapy you can to get him to ease up. Anyone else watching you get things ready would assume it was about to be a very sexy time for you. On the same coin, these showers are probably the most intimate moments you have with each other. He comes in as the room starts to steam and you help him ease off his polo, you start on the buttons of your dress while he takes off his jeans and socks. He helps with your bra, both of you shedding your underwear at the same time before you step in. Steve soothes almost instantly, his muscles relaxing under the hot stream, sighing further while he gets soaped up. You don’t have to be in there with him, but you do. He needs you so close so he doesn’t float away. His favorite part comes near the end, sitting in the flow of the shower together while you wash his hair. His eyes flutter closed while your nails scratch and massage him – he swears his hair is even thicker than it was before with all the blood flow you encourage. You wash his hair twice, then deep condition, holding him to your chest while you wait the five minutes it takes to settle in. He leaves soft kisses on your collar bone, on all the marks he left on you in Nance and Eddie's kitchen. He holds your hand, so you can’t float away. You both end up on the couch afterward, the leather groaning beneath you both while you lay across the deep seat cushions, you lay on your back, he lays on his side against you. The heat of his bare chest warms you through your oversized sleep shirt. His soft sweat pants tangle up with your bare legs. You let whatever’s on TV play – reruns you guess, you’re thinking about too many other things. “How’s your head, baby?” you ask while his eyes shut, leaning on your shoulder. “S’fine, better,” he says, he lifts your hand and kisses your fingers before placing both his and your hand on your chest over your heart. The ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dum lulling him to sleep. You half watch TV for however long until your own eyelids get heavy. You click off the TV and opt to turn the stereo on low, just so he doesn’t get lost while he sleeps.
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You wake up to oldies, music your parents would listen to on records in the living room growing up – songs that came out a few years before you were born. Oldies. It's dark outside but you can still hear the rain. Steve’s already awake, just watching you while his hand smooths back and forth over your sternum. “You snored,” he says. “Good,” you reply quietly. You both snort out breathy laughs, feeling the warmth of his lips as they smoosh against your cheek. “How you feeling?” he asks, hand coming up to rest on your cheek, sliding down the side of your neck. “A little banged up,” you say, “Might bruise.” “M’sorry,” he says again, a tinge of guilty pink tinging his ears. “It’s okay,” you repeat for what feels like the thousandth time in the past six hours. “You looked really pretty today,” Steve says gently, almost sheepish, “I should’ve told you.” “You looked really handsome,” you say back, “But you were kind of being an asshole so I didn’t want to tell you.” “You should’ve told me, it probably would’ve cured my PTSD,” he says seriously but sarcastically, “Could’ve saved the entire afternoon if you just said how good I looked. Prob’ly wouldn’t have had an episode.” “You’re such an ass,” you laugh, smiling. He leans in to kiss you and it’s the kind that makes you too weak to stand. That kiss got him a second date, it proved that they said about old King Steve in highschool. On the stereo, Sherry Baby bleeds into Unchained Melody.
His hand reaches up under your neck to tilt you up toward him, tasting your tongue with his, guiding you with his kiss, “Angel…” he murmurs. He breathes through his nose while he keeps his lips pressed to yours, desperate to stay here in this moment, attached to you. “Steve,” you say softly, breaking away, “Stevie…” “Please,” he whispers, nuzzling your nose slowly, “Please.” “Lemme take care of you.” “I…” your thoughts trail off while he kisses your neck, sucking and nibbling gently at the spot just by the hinge of your jaw. He waits for your soft sigh, the tilt of your hips towards him – your allowance. He grins when he hears the air pass your lips, the realignment of your spine beneath him while he settles between your squishy thighs. His hands travel south, pushing up the hem of your big t-shirt to your waist, holding you there for a moment while his kiss takes over your mouth again. He tugs your cotton panties down, breaking the kiss while he sits up on the couch to slide them off your ankles. Steve looks down at you with an expression that makes your breath catch in your chest, serious – with supple lips, needy eyes. He leads himself back down again, big hands sliding down the sides of your thighs over your hips to your waist again. Instinctively, your legs spring up to wrap around him while his hips align with yours, feeling his strained cock in his sweats against you. “Jesus…” he whispers again, eyes fluttering closed. He buries his face in your neck while you rock slowly against him, the pressure and friction against the underside of his erection sending low volts through his body. “Mm-mm,” he grunts, shaking his head ‘no’ while mumbling, “It’s supposed to be about you.” “Well stop dangling it in front of me then,” you giggle quietly, he giggles too. The smile sends you reeling, his pretty teeth, the way his nose scrunches. He leans forward again to kiss, he just can’t stop kissing, can’t stop tasting your lips, feeling you against him. Steve’s hand reaches down to pull himself out of his sweats, pushing the waistband to the tops of his thighs while he uses the other to push one thigh out off the couch. “You ready f’me?” he asks huskily, tip dragging slowly from the pool of slick at your opening up in between your folds. He lets his thumb run in slow circles over your clit while he waits for your answer, your slow nod while you lean your head back on the arm rest gives him the okay. He eases himself in slow, the tip pushing past your opening with some resistance. “Open up a lil’, honey,” he mumbles quietly while he guides the tip in again, “Open up for me.”
Your little gasps float out of you and into the fuzzy part of his brain, gliding down his spine. You angle your hips upward, one thigh up against the couch cushions and the other dangling over the edge, spread as wide as you can. He holds himself above you with one arm, the other aiding in pushing himself further in, the tip finally breaching your core. He keeps guiding, slow back and forths while you ease open for him – taking him in, inch by inch. “Oh yes, mhm,” he groans to himself softly, “Thass–hmm-that’s it, angel.” He let’s go when he’s three fourths in, crowding over you, forearms on each side of your head while he strokes slowly to start – getting you used to him, accommodating his size. “That’s good?” he breathes. “Ye-yeah,” you breathe back to him. His mouth latches to yours again, feeling him guide your hands up beside your head, lacing fingers while he presses you deeper into the couch cushions. He keeps his strokes slow and deliberate, feeling every ridge of you inside, how you suck him in and hug him tight in place – but how he feels isn’t nearly as important. It’s the way your brows contort, the way you bite your lip, your whines into his mouth while he kisses you. Each slow thrust makes you coat him in a new flow of slickness. “C’mere,” he says into your jawline, letting go of one hand to sneak behind you at the waist, pulling you flush to him. The new angle makes you let out a whine while he hits a spot deep inside you, he grunts at the reaction, the feeling of you taking him in. His pace picks up the smallest tick, face centimeters from yours – your noses brush, lips barely touching while his amber eyes keep steady on yours. You let out short huffs, little whimpers every time the head of his cock pushes deeper with every roll of your hips. “S’nice, hm?” he asks, brows slanting, softening. “Mhm,” you squeak back, “S-so good, honey.” Your legs pull in again, socked heels resting on the top of his butt while he sighs at the change in pressure. “Thassperfect, god,” he hisses out, head dropping down to your chest, pressing sloppy kisses above your breasts while he gathers himself. He groans into your neck while wet warmth tightens over him, soft velvet walls coaxing him closer and closer to the edge. 
Steve’s shoulders flex while he balances on his forearms above you again, your forgotten hand taken by his, fingers interlocked. His face inches from yours while he looks at you, the way your eyes flutter, the soft parting of your lips, the high pitched  ‘Uhn, uhn, uhn, uhn,’s coming out of them — you’re so beautiful.
“So pretty,” he says to you, huffing a breath into a smile, “So pretty, baby.” 
You kiss him a thank you. You see him swallow when he breaks away, his eyes getting glassy. 
“S’gonna be okay,” he assures, nodding down at you, nose to nose, “We’re gonna be okay.” Slow thrusts  between statements. 
“Gonna get married,” he says, a groan flowing right down into your mouth while he kisses you, “Gonna be just like Ed and Nance, right?” 
You nod while his thrusts get more passionate, deeper.
“Yeah? That’s nice?” he asks, “Marry you? Take you just like this after the wedding?” 
“Yeah,” you gasp back, “Yes, Stevie.” 
“Give you a baby?” he asks in a low whisper into your skin, lips pressing against your cheek, his strong nose dragging against your cheek bone, “Give you so many babies. You want that?” 
“I want that,” you nod, face pinching while you feel yourself building up and up in a slow churn. 
“You want that?” he asks again, coming back to hover over you — tears in his eyes, “You want that with me?” 
You nod to each other while he embraces you in an old movie kiss, wrapping himself around you, pressing him to his chest while his thrusts get purposeful, controlled. 
“I love you,” he pants into your ear, “I’m yours, m’all yours.”
“I love you, too,” you rasp back, free’d fingers interlocking in his hair. He gets leverage on his knees, the leather of the couch squeaking under him while he repositions. Soft smacks of skin between you echo in the living room against the backdrop of the low stereo.   “Oh my god, Steve,” you moan out, “You’re – oh god you’re so deep.” “So deep, angel, Christ–” he huffs, trying to make a mental note of this position so he can remember it for October – really make it stick. His thought process stifled when your nails drag down his back, making his passionate thrusts quicken – a signature cocky smirk flick across his lips. “Mmm, that feels good honey?” he asks – he knows the answer. Your mouth hangs open in a silent scream, tears glazing over your eyes while he feels you pulse over him. Thank god the couch was leather. Watching you bathe in the afterglow of your orgasm he works you toward the second with ease, chasing his pleasure with each soaking thrust into you – so nice like this, so pliant – his little ragdoll. When he cums it’s deliberate, spilling inside you with your eyes on each other. You give one another breathless kisses, bodies interlocked, sticking to the couch in new found exhaustion. The phone rings. Neither of you get up to answer it. ‘BEEP. You’ve reached the Harrington residence – Did you forget my last name isn’t Harr– If you’re calling before October 1997 then it’s not just the Harrington residence yet but – whatever you know what I mean. Leave a message, we might call ya back.’
“Hey Harrington it’s Munson, um, just making sure you’re okay, man. Sorry I disappeared for a little bit there. Love you, call me back when you can. Bye.” 
thanks for reading. <3
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intimidating-fettuccine · 5 months ago
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Inbox is open! Let's see if my request is accepted 😅
So! Can I request Jane, Jeff, and Zalgo's reaction to their s/o burrowing their chest because "world hard and cold, titty soft and warm." This is with the assumption that they're comfortable with this level of physical affection.
Your request is accepted, and incredibly appreciated. I thrive on this stuff anon, thank you 🥺
Jane:
Jane has come to find this behavior of yours incredibly amusing. It's come to the point that when she sees you approaching her with any sort of sadness on your face she opens her arms wide and beckons you to her with a smile. She'll probably squish you into her chest real nice and tight with a laugh before relaxing back with you. I think she enjoys cuddling with you like that, laying on her side with your face smooshed up in her chest. She lays there with you, running one hand through your hair and the other doing comforting strokes up and down your back. She'll ask you if you want to talk about anything, and if you do (your voice muffled by the tits you have your face buried into) she listens attentively and responds in any helpful way that she can in an attempt to soothe your worries.
If you're not into talking about whatever is stressing you, she alternates between resting in silence with you, telling you stories about her days she hasn't shared yet, or maybe even humming or singing you a song as she holds you. With Jane's treatment, it's honestly damn hard not to fall asleep in her arms like that, and she'll stay in that position with you until you wake up, often falling asleep with you. Whenever you're feeling stressed she always tells you you're welcome to bury yourself in her chest, because sometimes all you need to feel better is a face full of soft tits, which makes you flustered and makes her laugh really hard. She might tease you for it every now and then, but it makes her just as happy and relaxed to have you snuggled up to her like that.
Jeff:
Jeff welcomes any sort of affection from you, especially if you're not feeling well, however, he was not prepared for what greeted him today. He'd just gotten home and had jogged up to greet you, his arms open for a hug, but he didn't know you'd just walk right up and shove your face into his chest, nuzzling into him. He chuckles but asks what you're doing, and when you say that special phrase, "world hard and cold, titty soft and warm", he can't help but burst out into loud laughter. His pecs are big enough that you can kind of move them around a little too when they're not flexed, so if you try and squish his pecs around or up to your face it makes him laugh even harder.
He's quick to scoop you up and carry you to bed, and he'll lay on his back with you resting on top of him and let you cuddle into him as much as you want to, however, you have to deal with him repeatedly gushing over how cute you are and teasing you for doing this in the first place, but he doesn't discourage it at all. If anything, he tells you it makes him happy he can bring you so much comfort, and he reminds you that if you ever need cuddle time all you have to do is ask. He'll keep you safe from the cold hard world and provide you with as much attention as you need. Really, he's just flustered from you doing that to him, and so incredibly happy to have a silly partner like you that makes him feel so loved and cherished. Will also probably tease you by asking you every now and then if you need "titty time" as he's started calling it.
Zalgo:
Often stuck in his office, you usually have to approach Zalgo to ask for snuggles, and of course, he always obliges you, happy to be able to get some physical affection despite his busy work life. When he asks what's troubling you, I would absolutely tell him the same phrase, because while it'll make Jeff/Jane laugh, it makes Zalgo SO confused. He just attributes it as a human thing, and hesitantly tells you, "You may cuddle up to my, uh... 'Tits' if you wish to, my love, if it would make you happy." Which is just about one of the funniest things you'll probably hear come out of his mouth, especially with how unconfident he sounds and the fact that he's clearly blushing, but he's just happy you find his love and affection so calming, especially considering his status as a demon.
You can crawl right into his lap while he works and smoosh your face into his chest, and he'll cradle you with one arm while he uses the other to continue doing his work. He'll probably carry out some small talk with you, happy to have a bit of extra time with you, and he'll ask you to tell him about all of the things you've been up to recently, cherishing moments like this. In fact, with how stressed you seem, he's probably likely to end work a little early so he can spoil you with a nice relaxing bath and some more cuddles in the privacy of your shared bedroom, so he can love on you and not have to worry about work at the same time. His chest is yours to cuddle up to whenever need be, so don't hesitate to ask him.
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icedbeverageenjoyer · 6 months ago
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🖤📺🖤📺🖤📺🖤📺🖤📺🖤📺🖤📺🖤📺🖤📺
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🖤📺Mr. Puzzles' Fluff Alphabet!! 📺🖤
Hey guys!!! The moment I saw snakes-writing-corner's fluff alphabet I couldn't focus on any of my other stuff until I've made one on my own! It's surprisingly easier than the oneshots I'm used to-- but on with the fluff!!!
A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)
He is incredibly affectionate and always wants to pamper you with kisses and compliments! Though he only shows it when the cameras stop rolling and he's sure you two are alone.
His love language is words of affirmation, since there is no better way to express his love than saying it directly! You would think he'd eventually run out of things to compliment, but his vocabulary is vast and colourful, making you blush every time. He is also multilingual, so sometimes he'll sweettalk you in a different language only to fluster you.
B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend?) 
Since you are his partner (and thus, his only friend), you're already his best friend! But if you weren't dating he'd probably be just as chaotic. He will call you in the middle of the night and ask you for input on his scripts, oftentimes his voice doesn't get picked up clearly and you just hear garbled static with the occasional manic laughter.
Sometimes he'll just skip the phone entirely, break into your house, and put on a movie so you two could watch. If the sound of a door being kicked to the ground or the smell of perfectly cooked popcorn doesn't wake you up, him manhandling you and throwing you at the couch (not on, at) is sure to do the trick!
C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)
He is not used to people touching him or vice versa. The only times in the puzzlevision arc where he touched someone were when he was threatening Mario or fighting the crew, so he only makes physical contact when nessesary.
The closest thing to cuddling he would do is sit next to you and press his screen against your temple. It's not exactly a kiss, but more like him resting his head on you after a long day.
D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they around the house?) 
If you were to live in his studio together he would give you your own room and personalize it to your needs! He doesn't need to clean much since he almost never leaves his office unless it is to either pester the Smg4 crew or hang out with you.
If you two live at your place he'd be a little bit more organized and take on all the cooking. He has been the host for a few MasterChef-like shows, so he knows how to make a nice three course meal when you both eventually get tired of takeout. His specialty is breakfast, mainly pancakes, and he takes great pride in it!
E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?) 
He would never allow himself to break up with you, and if you were to break up with him, he simply won't let you. Every time you'd try to explain that you're leaving him he'd either talk over you or just cover his antenna and pretend he's not listening, all the while still doing romantic gestures for you as if nothing happened. He is naturally stubborn and refuses to take any form of rejection.
F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?) 
Almost immediately. He would throw a big, sappy wedding and show up in either the cleanest, most stylish sleek suit on the market or the biggest, most beautiful poofy dress ever made.
He'd record the whole thing in five different angles to get every detail on film, but he won't release it to the public. This special day will be for his eyes only.
G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)
Incredibly gentle! He doesn't touch you often, but when he does, his fingers are featherlight, and the cozy warmth of his old screen pressed against your face is always comforting.
He could get a little harsh sometimes and say things he really wasn't supposed to, but he always comes back and apologizes when things go too far.
H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? What are their hugs like?)
He is not used to them at all. Usually if anyone else were to hug him he'd kick them off immediately, but he's more patient when it comes to you.
He feels safe enough around you to let you get closer, but he'll be frozen stiff the entire time, not entirely comfortable with the pressure on his skin just yet. Still, every time you back away he'd insist he doesn't mind, and he means it, he appreciates every form your love comes in. And if you're ever upset, he'll wrap his lanky arms around you and just keep them there until you're feeling better.
I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?) 
In the early stages of your relationship he wouldn't actually see you as a love interest, but pretend to be interested so you'll fall for him and be there in case you were ever useful.
Soon, however, he found himself actually catching feeling for you. And after some inner turmoil, he finally confesses for real! After that, he would say 'i love you' in almost every conversation. At first he copied what he saw on television, he'd recreate every dramatic gesture and cheezy date, but it would always leave him frustrated for whatever reason.
It wasn't until you pointed out that he was acting instead of actually having fun that he started to slip out of his show host persona. Now his use of 'I love you' is much more sparse, but every time he says it, you know he means it.
J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?) 
Extremely. He is agressively passive-aggressive and if he sees anyone even looking at you in a way he doesn't like he'd immediately be onto them. He'd start off polite at first, basically telling them 'get out or I will throw you out' without saying it, but if they still don't get the hint he will grab them by the scruff of the neck and drag them out.
He would come back to you with a muffin from the snack cart and lead you away to show you his progress on filming the upcoming movie. You're not listening though, neither are you eating, the faint smell of gunpowder coming off of him immediately stumping your appetite.
K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)
His kisses are him pressing his screen against your face. He doesn't have lips, but his gentle electronic warmth is enough to linger on your skin. He loves kissing your face and hands, having them securely in his hold as he peppers you with kisses. He also likes it when you kiss back, especially around the wires on his wrists and neck, as it is one of the few places where he can still feel touch.
L = Little ones (How are they around children?) 
He's not really a kids guy. On one hand most of his shows are aimed towoards a younger audience, and he wants to introduce kiddos to the wonders of TV! On the other...he can't handle the loud crying and sticky fingers.
M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)
At the morning you will wake up to the smell of freshly made breakfast before you feel him pulling the covers off of you and dragging you to the kitchen. He'd talk about his plans for the day while you're still waking up and grazing on your toast. 
He would then head to the studio, but not before kissing you and saying goodbye like a working husband going out for a long day at the office.
N = Night (How are nights spent with them?) 
Due to his upgrades and mostly electronic nature he doesn't need to sleep. Usually when you go to bed he stays up in his office, pouring his heart out on a script he'd likely end up tossing. Sometimes when he's lonely he'd quietly sneak in your room and lay down next to you, his screen facing you on a blank, staticy channel.
O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?) 
He doesn't mind sharing his 'tragic backstory' with others, seeing it as just another selling point of his persona, but you seem to be the only one to take it seriously. The irreversible effects of long-term isolation had warped him into a charecature of what he loved most.
You try to make him see just how horrible his situation is so he can start to heal and develop a real personality, but it seams near impossible to get through to him. You can't fix something that dead and gone.
P = Patience (How easily angered are they?) 
Patience is not a virtue Puzzles acknowledges. The second something goes off scrip he will freak out and immediately focus all of his resources on fixing it. He craves control and if something doesn't go his way he will stop at nothing to get what he wants. When he is sulking in his office even the smallest little thing can set him off. 
Luckily, he seemed to have mellowed out after his defeat. When he gets worked up, instead of exploding and taking it out on the closest thing to him (he still misses his favorite remote), he simply let's out a long, tired sigh and goes back to work. Progress, you'd like to believe!
Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?) 
He has a very advanced database that he's already explained to you in detail, but you still can't grasp how it works exactly. What you could somehow get was that ever since his face surgeryupgrade, he has been able to record and play back everything he's seen in vivid detail.
He has special folders of where he stores information and one of them is entirely dedicated to you. Every single interaction or passing glimpse is recorded, and sometimes when you're away for a while he likes to play them back and just listen to you talk.
R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?) 
Probably when he realized you were more important to him than everyone else. It was before you guys started dating. He was in the office repairing his hand after a loose prop fell on him, but he couldn't lock the mechanism in place with just one arm.
It wasn't until you walked in and offered to help that he finally let you touch him, albeit only his non-feeling, motionless palm. When he was done he muttered a quiet 'thanks' and began readjusting the fiberglass plates.<
"No problem, that's what friends are for, after all."
That was when it really sunk in. You guys really were acting just like friends. And it wasn't a staged act or anything, it was all just natural interactions. He had to rationalize it in his brain for quite a bit after that. Were you really friends, or was that just a passing remark? No, you actually meant it. Would he consider you for a friend to begin with...yes.
And so it was official. The day he gained his first friend.
S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you?) 
He has never felt the need to hire bodyguards, since his pointer finger alone is considered a highly lethal weapon, not only that, but he has complete control over the studio. So if anyone ever tried to break in, he'll just snap his fingers and have a heavy piano prop crush them.
That being said, he is your personal guard dog and will absolutely snap someone out of existence if he feels you are being threatened. 
T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?) 
Puzzles is a tryhard in every way the word could be interpreted. When he figured out there's more to a relationship than surface level romantic cliches, he began to put more thought into what he gifts or what dates he takes you on, wanting them to be just perfect for you! 
Just like the shows he directs, most of them are hit or miss, but he puts his soul into every single thing he does for you, and you'll always treasure that!
U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)
His smoking and temper. He's a chain smoker, having one every odd day on good weeks, and blowing through a pack on particularly rough ones. 
For his temper, he usually has a specific set of rules before blowing up. First - try nicely. If that doesn't work, try again, but a bit more sternly. If that doesn't work, try again, but this time make it a clear, threatening warning. And if that doesn't work either, just brainwash them into complying.
You have gone through most of those stages at least a few times, but not the last one. At least, not that you remember. Maybe he figured taking control wasn't worth the trouble, or he was so frustrated that he didn't want to deal with you anymore, but you did notice his patience has been improving, especially when it came to you. Maybe all those therapy sessions you dragged him kicking and screaming to were working!
V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)
Looking as nice as possible is a must, especially if it is to impress you! He obsessively fixes his puffy arm sleeves to fold just right, and if there's something wrong with his current outfit like a stain he hasn't noticed or a crease that won't go away he will just replace the entire outfit with a new, completely identical one. </p>
W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)
Yes. No matter at what stage of the healing journey he's in, you will always be a big part of his world. If you go, he loses his partner, his best friend, his co-director, and everyone he's ever loved. He'd be left alone, as he always was, with his TV. . .And for the first time in forever, he'd grow to hate it.
X = Xtra (Random HC) 
While it was his lifelong dream to work in the creative field of television, Mr. Puzzles is not a creative person. He's more of a businessman than a director, creating several successful tech companies for the sole purpose of funding the studio, despite the low ratings. 
Low ratings which are caused by his complete inability to be original, pulling plot points from other established classics and writing them in with his own, stiff, awkward style of storytelling.
He speaks every language ever shown on TV, is fully able to perform invasive surgery without any risks, knows the copyright laws so well, he might as well be a lawyer, had a hand in engineering and programing his body, and has definitely done some less than legal things to get where he is today in the industry. And yet the thing that stumps him is actually being creative.
Y = You (How would they talk about you?)
Your relationship with him is one of the very few things he wishes to keep in his 'private life', so he doesn't talk about you often, mostly just quickly mentioning you when he explains his absence. "Ah, so sorry for depriving you all of my presence, my lovely partner wanted to watch 'Food fight' for the first time and I simply HAD to intervene!"
". . .who invited y-"
"ANYWAYS back to the show!-"
Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?) 
He has a powered down mode when he recharges. Before going in that mode he'll go to your room and lay down army style on your bed, but by the time you come home you'll see him  sprawled out on your bed, one foot on the pillow, the other dangling from the edge, with his screen displaying the puzzlevision logo bouncing off the four walls of his monitor.
Thank you guys for reading, hope you enjoyed and have a great day!!! 💕💗💞
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