#hi pay for me and ill be here baby

[bi-writes]

thinking about sugarbaby!reader batting her lashes when simon comes home. watching him come through the door, tossing his duffel onto the ground, grunting as he shuts the door behind him and cracks his neck from side-to-side as he eyes the pretty thing standing there waiting for him. (18+)

wearing that baby pink silk that he loves so much. the one that didn't put a dent in his wallet, even though it was outrageously expensive--but fuck was it worth it when he saw those gorgeous tits wrapped so delicately in it, fabric sitting soft and smooth like water. his mouth goes dry as his eyes focus on the skin there, knowing how you'll taste when he rips the thing off of you and puts his cock right back where it belongs.

your eyes meet. you smile, bright and sugary and sweet, and when he bends down to kiss you, he brings the weight of him down, too. he's vicious with it, teeth knocking against yours and tongue a little sloppy as he swallows the pretty sounds you make--simon-oh!

he watches with bated breath as you sink to your knees in front of him, your hands finding the laces of his boots and beginning to undo them. you tip your head back, looking up at him, and he lowers himself to look closer at you, pouty lips parted and waiting for him as he shoves two gloved fingers into your mouth and pries satisfaction from the gag that you choke down and settle with a soft suck.

a warm mouth. a pretty cunt. a gorgeous girl, all for him, waiting like the lovesick kitten that she is for him to come home, for him to devour, for him to indulge in.

and when you let his fingers go and kiss his blood-soaked palms with a whimpering, "thank you for your service," he knows this is the only place he will ever know the truth of it all.

[todayisafridaynight]

[JP DUB]

[ENG DUB]

this is such a funny change to me and im 1000% when i say im obsessed with it for whatever reason. like its nothing even major but i'm ill enough to still pay attention to it

[d3stinyist1red]

out of everyone on yandere town, yan cowboy is definitely my favourite <3

YESSS IKR HES SO CUTESYY

yan cowboy who wants you to ride him badly

yan cowboy who first meets you when you stumble upon his farm, literally the cows were gonna jump ur ass until he popped up

"hey there, sweets! What'cha doin' around here?" He asks, looking at you with a tilted head as he pat the cow's head. "U-uh, sorry i just-" you got interrupted by the cowboy laughing at ya.

"ma, why do you seem so nervous? It's alright!" He said grinning down at you, he wraps an arm around your shoulder and introduces himself.

yan cowboy who is now ur buddy, talking to you every second of his fucking day like damn lil bro chill

yan cowboy who you began seeing everyday, coincidences piling up. No matter where you went, he was there, lingering just at the edge of your vision.

yan cowboy who wants you to ride with him and his horse everyday, holding onto your waist as he leads the horse on where to go, your back to his front, slowly rubbing himself against you.

yan cowboy who is a possessive and jealous freak. Any interaction you have with others, specifically other men, makes his jaw clench and his eyes narrow. He might not say anything at first, but you’ll notice how quiet he has gotten.

yan cowboy who confronts you about the man you were hanging out with earliar

"Hey darlin', what was that man tellin' you? Why were you talkin' to him? Do you think hes better than me? Sweets, im sorry. Darlin' lets talk about this, okay?"

"boy i literally just asked him wheres the nearest wingstop"

"why? are you hungry? Because I have some meat for you could eat-"

yan cowboy who makes you the center of his world, if you dont talk to him hes GONNA AND WILL have a bad day, grumpy and pissed off until you talk to him

yan cowboy who has a garden his mother owns, and always gives you flowers, your favorite ones

yan cowboy who literally every woman wants bc hes fine asf, strong, and BRO HES SWEET TOO LIKE HELLO??? but he only needs you. Whenever hes talking with another woman, he always drifts his eyes away from her to try to find you, not paying attention to whatever the woman was saying

yan cowboy who literallys gets so hard whenever he sees you bend down to get some strawberries you planted, already knowing he was gonna fist himself inside his car

yan cowboy who always gives you handwritten notes

"hello n/n! I might not be able to see you today because of my mother telling me ive been slacking off since ive been leaving early from farming. But darling, you know I can't stay away from you for so long! I need to see you! Anyway baby, I left you some cash, treat yourself, aight babes? - Your lovely cowboy <3"

yan cowboy who sees you growing some plants in the hot sun and immediatly panics, he runs over to you with an umbrella. A UMBRELLA BRO

"darlin'! Its so hot out here for you to be outside! Come inside, love!"

"bro ive only been outside for 3 minutes"

"3 minutes too long! Now cmon and rest! Ill do the work, lovely!"

yan cowboy who helps you when you barely started growing plants and stuff, guiding you with his hands ontop of yours, his chin on your shoulder.

yan cowboy who sees you carrying a heavy bale of hay, and immediately scolds you

You wipe the sweat from your brow as you lift the bale of hay, determined to carry your weight on the farm. Your cowboy always helps you with everything like bro i could be independent too hoe. You’ve seen him do this like a thousand times, and you’re confident you can handle it too bc ur a bad bitch period

But before you can take more than a few steps, a shadow falls over you, and you feel a firm hand on your arm. You glance up, and lowkey you were scared it was gonna be schoolboy69 lowkey but nah their infront of you was your cowboy, eyes narrowed in a mix of worry and frustration. He was practically glaring at you, mad that you picked up something without his help, even if you picked up something as heavy as a bag of cookies he would be mad and see red like alpha dawg sigma 4000

“What do you think you’re doin’, darlin’?” His voice is low, but you still heard the irritation in his voice.

“I’m just helping out,” you say, trying to brush it off as no big deal. “It’s just a bale of hay, I'll can handle it.” You said shrugging, about to walk past him until you felt the heavy hay get off your shoulders in a quick manner.

that lil bitch took the hay and walked away but not before blowing u a kiss and saying "i love u n/n, get ready for tonight bc imma need u to blow my back OUT-"

yan cowboy who always is complimenting you, doesnt even matter if your in ur christmas pjs from 2016 he will say "id lowkey eat you out in that"

yan cowboy who is ur obsessed boy who luvs you more than he should<3

yan cowboy who is ur such cowboy who couldnt be more lucky to have you with him! <333

GUYS IM BACK FROM THE DEAD BITCHESSS

GUYS YALL COULD SEND REQUESTS BUT ITS GONNA TAKE A LITTLE BIT BC IM STILL WORKING ON OTHER DRAFTS LIKE THESE

GUYS WHO HAS YAN WINDERBREAKER MANHWA BOOKS PLS I NEED JAY JO AND OWEN

[itsthewritergal]

don't tell Bucky - B.Barnes x reader

Summary: Reader is broke and refuses to tell mob!bucky the extend of it

TW: fluff, happy ending, little swears, mention of money, getting fired, (think that's everything)

ENJOY!!

:)

Y/N was used to the biting cold in her apartment, it had been a long few months with her hours being cut down and bills piling up she was in debt. Badly. She had started cutting costs where possible, heating was the first to go, she had opted for  not turning the heating on despite the freezing temperatures outside, food was the second thing to go, she had starting making meals stretch and eating less and slowly things seemed a little more manageable. The bills continued to pile up, yet things seemed a little easier. Every single penny was put to the side to clear her debt. She had been seeing Bucky as much as possible but she couldn’t talk to him about it, he would just offer to pay her debt off and then she’d owe him for almost the rest of her life. She couldn’t ask him. She wouldn’t. Bucky had picked her up from work, it was a surprise, and something Y/N was grateful for as she wouldn’t have to pay for the bus home. 

“Do you want to stay at mine tonight?” Bucky asked gently pressing a kiss to her cheek as they finished their heavy make-out session in the car 

“I’ve got work in the morning,” She said softly, breath slipping through her lips 

“Call in sick” Bucky said between kisses “You can go without one shift can’t you?” Bucky asked 

“We’re short staffed Buck, I need to be there” She lied easily, 

“Let me come in? I just want to hold you tonight” He said softly pressing another kiss to her lips. Y/N nodded in agreement, how could she ever say no to an offer like that? 

Bucky followed Y/N up the stairs to her apartment, she unlocked the door and was met by an icy breeze. Bucky shuddered. 

“Why is it so cold baby? Your heating broken?” He asked 

“Hmm?” Y/N asked turning around to face him 

“Your apartment Y/N, it’s cold” 

“Oh, sorry Buck I turned the heating off” 

“For good?” Bucky asked closing the door behind him “Or is it broken?” He asked

“Oh, no I just turned it off whilst I was at work” Y/N said softly, 

“Why would you do that?” Bucky asked again pulling Y/N into an embrace 

“It was just while I went to work Buck”

“That’s not safe doll, you should keep the heating on so you don’t get ill, even when you’re not home. You need to come into a warm house” Bucky said, Y/N resisted the urge to cry. 

“I usually do Bucky, it was just a one off” she said. 

Bucky didn’t mention the heating again that night. Y/N was grateful for that small mercy. What he did mention was the mountain of blankets that sat on her bed. 

“Doll?” He called from her bedroom 

“Yeah?” She replied coming into the bedroom, her eyes falling on Bucky’s metal hand clasping three blankets, 

“You coming down with something?” He asked “I can call Banner to come and check on you if you want?” 

“Oh Buck, no I’m ok. Just get cold when you’re not here” She said, it wasn’t a complete lie, just a small one. It made her feel a little better. 

“You know you could just move in with me?” Bucky offered 

“Don’t be silly Bucky, we’ve spoken about this” She said and Bucky stopped himself from starting an argument by pressing his lips to hers. 

— — — 

The next few weeks were tricky. Y/N had started picking up more shifts than she could count which lessened her time to do anything; most of all see Bucky. 

When one fateful day put Y/N’s life into a tailspin, 

“Y/N could you come into my office when you get a moment please?” Her boss’s voice cut through the noise, and Y/N felt a panic run through her body, 

“I’ll come now” She said quickly, hurrying behind the shorter lady, “is everything ok?” 

“Take a seat Y/N” She said, Y/N knew this wasn’t good, she never asked her to take a seat before, this had got to be bad news. 

“Have I done something wrong?” 

“No, Y/N you’re one of the best workers we have here” She said taking a deep breath “but we can’t afford to keep you on, with prices and wages going up we’re cutting down to less staff members and well it’s only fair that we let you go first. You’ve got enough experience to get another job quickly whereas the others don’t” 

“You mean the others are cheaper because they are younger?” Y/N said noticing the true meaning behind her words. 

“That isn’t what we are doing Y/N” her boss spoke halfheartedly 

“When do I leave?” Y/N asked dejectedly, knowing it was a loosing battle 

“Today’s your last shift, you are let go without holiday pay or leave notice” She said passing Y/N an envelope “All the necessary documents are in here, please hand your keys in at the end of the shift” 

“No need to wait” Y/N said, pulling her work keys out her bag and putting them on the desk. Picking up the envelope, Y/N walked out. 

The walk home was a cold one, not only because of the biting wind but Y/N felt empty, numb, like she’d just been caught in the rain. She wanted to call Bucky, but after her neglect of him she knew that he was probably mad at her and calling him to cry would not be the best way to go. However, her ringtone cut Y/N’s moping thoughts short, 

“Hello?” 

“Doll, oh thank god. Steve just told me he passed you on the street, he’s turning around to pick you up so don’t go anywhere. What’s happened?” Bucky asked 

“Nothing Buck, I’ll talk to you later, tell Steve not to worry” 

“No, he’s picking you up and you can come here or go home then come here, or just head home if that’s what you want but I’d rather Steve did it than you walk yourself doll okay?” He said 

“It’s going to happened whatever I say right?” Y/N chuckled halfheartedly, the lack of reply on Bucky’s end confirmed it “I’ll wait for Steve” 

“Good girl, I’ll see you soon” He said ending the call quickly. 

As if on cue Steve’s car pulled into view, 

“Hey Y/N, Buck’s waiting for you” He said opening the door for her, 

“Thanks Steve” 

After a few quiet minutes Y/N answered the question which was burning in Steve's mind, 

“I got fired” She said quietly, 

“They did what? Oh Buck won’t be happy, how dare they” Steve said forcefully, 

“They can’t afford me apparently” Y/N chuckled sadly 

“Bullshit” 

“Promise you won’t tell Bucky?” She asked 

“I won’t lie to him if he asks” Steve said “But I’ll divert attention so he doesn’t ask” Steve agreed quietly 

— — — — — 

Y/N had avoided Bucky for another two weeks, she hadn’t meant to. But she had been sending CV’s, babysitting, dog walking and selling small handmade bits online. Anything possible to make some money, she was yet to receive an interview or even any interest. It seemed that everyone was full of employees or was hiring younger staff, there was no place for Y/N. 

She had been dodging her landlord phone calls, and the electricity company and even a few others who she knew were angry that she hadn’t paid. Stretching her legs out wide on the floor she took a minute away from her laptop screen and picked up her phone. 

“I’m on my way, be there in 15” Bucky had texted around 15 minutes ago, Y/N let out a panicked sigh and started picking up the mess around her to try and make herself look presentable for Bucky, she had to keep up appearances. 

“Doll?” Bucky called through her apartment, 

“In here” She replied quickly shoving some dirty clothes at the bottom of her wardrobe, 

“Hey doll” He said softly pulling her in for a kiss, not seeming to notice her dishevelled state. 

“Hey Bucky” she pressed a kiss to his lips, something she had missed dearly. 

“I need to talk to you” Bucky said pulling her down to sit on the bed, she sat down with his hands gripped in hers as if he was about to disappear. 

“I know I’ve been awful Buck, I haven’t spoken to you and I’ve avoided you, please don’t be mad, I’ve just been so stressed and—”

Bucky quickly cut her off “I’m not breaking up with you Y/N” 

“You’re not?” 

“No, doll I’m not” 

“Oh” 

“I know what’s going on Y/N” he said sincerely 

“Nothing’s going on” 

“Doll I know” 

“Bucky nothing is going on”

“You got fired, you’ve been trying to find another job, you’ve been dog walking, which I’m not happy with because that’s dangerous when you don’t know the dog or the owner, and you’ve been selling your adorably little crochet animals online” Bucky said 

“You got someone to follow me” 

“You started shutting me out” Bucky justified 

“Fair enough” 

“Did I miss anything?” Bucky asked 

“No” Y/N said her eyes welling up with tears, she let go on Bucky’s hand to hide her face in them, 

“Oh doll, come here” Bucky said wrapping his arms around her, letting her cry all her stresses and troubles away onto his shirt, he knew once she had cried they would be able to talk through options properly. 

“I’m sorry” Y/N said with a sniffle 

“Can I finish what I was saying earlier?” Bucky asked, Y/N nodded silently “I’ve paid off all your debts, I did the landlord, electricity, water and that loan you took out, you can pay me back if you want to if you have the money, if not it’s my birthday present to you I know you won’t accept it any other way” He said 

“Bucky please”

“It’s already done” 

“I should be able to do this better,I  should be able to pay my fucking bills” 

“No” Bucky said calmly 

“No?” 

“No you’re not doing that. You are doing as best as you can. And I refuse to listen to that shit. Now put on a nice dress, we’re going out to eat” 

— — — — 

That night when Bucky and Y/N were laying in bed cuddled up to each other, Y/N decided to be brave 

“Bucky?” 

“Yes doll?” 

“Do you think I could move in with you?” She asked pressing a kiss to his chest “I don’t think I want to do this alone anymore” 

“Doll, I’d be delighted” 

[jyoongim]

Hey I love your work so much! Could you please write about alastor with a wife who’s just like Jessica rabbit and ended up in heaven because she didn’t know about him killing but came down to visit him after meeting Charlie when she went up there. I just think I’d be wild for someone like Al to have a wife like that

AAAAOOOOGGGGAAAAA!!!! I could have written this in soooo many ways but i think its a bit like one i already wrote but I hope you enjoy nevertheless!!! @alientee

I highly recommend you listen to The Night We Met, Copacabana, and Why don’t You Do Right!!!! That’s what I envisioned for this one request!!!!

The meeting between the Princess of Hell and the Angelic council was a mess.

The Princess had a look of defeat, so you took it upon yourself to let her show you her hotel.

You prompted that you will be the one to go down and see if it were possible that demons could be redeemed.

I mean everyone deserves a second chance right?

You were talk even the worst sinner still possessed some sort of decency.

So you followed the Princess to her hotel to show you around.

Charlie was elated that you didn’t think her dream was just some fluck.

She asked you all sorts of questions. How you ended up in heaven and how was your life before you died.

”Believe it or not I was a singer at a gentlemen’s lounge. Oh darlin you should have seen me in my prime! Jazz, booze, and oh I had the sweetest husband.”

Charlie was shocked. I mean, yes you were breathtaking, but you really didn’t seem like the type to be tied down to some guy.

You giggled at her expression.  It was often the look men gave you when you refused their advances, happily boasting you were a taken woman and not some hussy that could warm their beds.

”Oh you’ll really find that the hotel has character. Our hotel manager might be a little…hmmm creepy but don’t pay him any mind” she said opening the door to the hotel to lead you through the lobby.

And character it did.

The interior was old-fashion but it had charm. A bit masculine for a young woman to run it,  but if the manager was a man, you could see why it looked the way it did.

You took a seat on a couch and waited as Charlie went to gather the residents so you would meet them.

You were slightly nervous. You were in Hell and hadn’t the slightest clue what demons even looked like.

You fiddled with your ring, how you wished to see your husband.

”Everyone we have a special guest so pleeeeaasssee be on your best behavior” you heard Charlie say.

You caught sight of a gnarly bar and the bartender, you smiled

”shot of whiskey on the rock love” Husker turned around and his eyes widened, yours did too “Why i never thought…Husker?!” You squealed happily, lunging across the bar to hug the demon. He smiled and patted your back, pulling away “Husker what ya doing down here?” He gave you a deadpan look, making you laugh. You then thought about it..

If Husker was down here then that…

”Charlie you should have said such beauty in our circle i would have cleaned up a lot better” a voice purred, making your head turn.

A tall spider smiled at you, giving you a flirtatious wink, which you sent back with a wave.

A little cyclone, a snake, and a seemingly human woman entered the room.

Charlie smiled “This lovely angel has decided to have a look around to prove Heaven wrong”

You introduced yourself.

”Now i know you’re not here long so Ill give you a quick-”

Charlie was interrupted by a radio-like voice.

”Don’t tell me you’re going to give a tour without me Charlie? You know we work as a team-” his words trailed off as he caught sight of you.

You stood, a happy smile on your face “Alastor baby!” You practically ran into his arms.

”Ain’t no way…”

”Noooo”

”oh welll that do make ssssennssseee”

”Pretty lady!”

everyone watched in shock as Alastor twirled you around, peppering your face in kisses.

”oooohhh my dear what a surprise this is!” He said hugging you. You heard a throat clear and broke your hold on him, turning to see everyone confused.

You gave a sheepish smile. Alastor beamed and hooked a arm around your waist

”Everyone this doll here is my wife! The prettiest thing that ever graced the earth!” You playfully slapped his chest.

Everyone's mouths dropped.

”WHAT!?”

You sat in Alastor’s lap as you told how you knew the red demon. Rambling on about how you two met and how your lives were like.

They just couldn’t process it.

YOU were married to Alastor. 

Married to the most feared Overlord in Hell. 

Wife to the Radio Demon.

How the fuck?

You were an angel? Literally and figuratively!

”How the hell did Mr. Creepy face fancy talk here get a broad like you?” Angel asked.

Alastor’s chest puffed with pride. His smile almost broke his face “with charm and wit my deluded friend” He said as he leaned his chin on your shoulder.

You giggled, it was always entertaining to see people's reactions to who your husband was.

You turned to Alastor,  lips pouty with a feigned upset look

”Now i been dead forever and not once have I seen you. Why? Why weren’t you in Heaven?”

Alastor stiffened, how was he to tell you that during your time alive he had killed many people just for the fun of it?

“Weeelll my dear I might have killed a few people” 

You blinked and then thought about it.

It kind of made sense, he used to be out ‘hunting’ at weird times of day, be gone at night saying he was working.

 You had a hard time getting stains out of his clothing.

That do explains some things.

”So do you regret anything?” He let out a laugh

nope. Not a single thing.

You shook your head “well since I’m heeeerrrrreee…why don’t we swing by juke joint, if you’re here, I’m sure Mimzy is here. I could use a good time. Its stuffy up there in Heaven. No fun at all”

Charlie perked “Ahh yes you must see how the sinners here are really like and what better than enagaging with them?”

Angel smirked “I know a place waaaayy better than some old booze lounge”

A club. You were at a club.

Your eyes honed in on a mic on the stage and it just happened to be open night.

You batted your eyes and just like that you were on stage.

The lights dimmed and you flipped through some songs to pick.

You might have been a bit old-fashioned but you were caught up on some of the modern singers that came through heaven.

The band nodded at your choice and you took hold of the mic.

With a twirl of your hand, you dawned on a 1920s theme look.

The gang mouths were jaw dropped as you started to sing, the audience was captivated. Catcalls and whistles filled the air.

Alastor felt static run through him as he sighed lovingly as you came down the stage and sat on his lap, mock fixing his bow tie as you sang. You teasingly nipped at his lips, causing his ears to twitch as you smiled going back to waltzing around the stage.

You smiled as bowed as the crowd exploded with cheers and applause as the lights came back on.

Ain’t no way Alastor had a bad broad like you, but the way you happily giggled as he whispered in your ear, pulling you into his chest…

There wasn’t denying it.

You held the Radio Demon’s dark heart.

His sweet, alluring wife

who would have thought?

[heeliopheelia]

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐒/𝐎 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 𝐁𝐑𝐎

genre: fluff, established relationship

word count: 1.7k

warnings: hoon’s quite suggestive, jake’s hinting suggestive content but it’s really up to your own interpretation lmaoo, kissing

a/n: yayyy, this one has been sitting in my drafts FOREVER!! so glad to finally put it out...

masterlist

LEE HEESEUNG

You can’t help but chuckle into his lips, teeth clashing slightly when his cold hands make contact with the skin underneath your top. Heeseung pulls away from the kiss, raising his eyebrow at your behavior before realizing that the reason for your laughter comes from the touch of hands. 

Already knowing his ill intentions of tickling you by his expression, you put your hands over his and speak before you can even think of your words first.

“Bro, don’t even-”

Your words are interrupted with a loud scoff. “What did you just call me, you little witch?”

“Hey!”

“You see, things like that really make me rethink our relationship.”

You burst out laughing away before shoving his face away gently. “You’re so mean.”

“You’re the mean one for even letting such words come to your mind while addressing me.” 

You roll your eyes, biting back a smile before grabbing his neck and trying to smush your lips together. A whine rips out of your throat when he denies you your kiss and looks at you as if you were crazy.

“Just come here, you dramatic ass! I haven’t seen you in a whole week!”

Heeseung flicks your nose instead. “Exactly! You haven’t seen me in an entire week and the first word that comes to your mind is bro. Really?”

You groan loudly, throwing your head back as you prepare yourself for the next fifteen minutes of bickering with your boyfriend. “Oh my god-”

PARK JAY

“Why would you ever call me that, oh my god.”

His frown is enough to make you burst out with chuckles. You grab onto his arm as you catch up to him, letting the glass door of the small convenience store shut behind you. 

“I thought that was funny,” you chirp up at him, batting your eyelashes innocently.

“And in public too? You really want me to go gray before my thirties, don’t you?”

You raise your arm up and run your hand through his soft hair, pretending to actually consider his question. “I think you’d actually look rather hot with salt-pepper hair, you know? You’d look ravishing with any hairstyle, really.”

Jay sends you an unamused look as you keep giggling. “Sweet words aren't gonna get you anywhere, miss.”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” you finally fold as you slip your hand into his. 

Jay intertwines your fingers without skipping a beat, before tugging on your arm and pulling you even closer to him. 

“Please, don’t ever do that again. I might actually go crazy.”

SIM JAKE

You look with slight disappointment at your boyfriend occupied with his game – too occupied to notice you’ve called him a bro instead of baby for the second time this past five minutes. Sitting boredly on his bed, you sigh again.

“What is it, angel?” Jake asks, eyes drawn to the screen and never sparing you a look. 

You never minded when he spent his evenings gaming, you know everyone has their own stress relievers, but tonight you were just so damn bored you didn’t know what else to do.

“Nothing, bro,” you snap a little sharper than intended, slightly irked by his innocent negligence. “I’m gonna order some take out. What do you want?”

Only then, couple seconds of silence later, your words seem to click and Jake pauses his game and turns to you with a slightly perplexed expression. “Wait… Could you repeat that?”

You roll your eyes. “I said, I’m gonna order som-”

“No, that word you’ve just called me,” he cuts you off with a pout. “Why would you say that?”

You shrug, dragging out your upset act although there’s barely a spark of annoyance in your system by now. 

“Dunno. Maybe I just wanted my boyfriend to pay attention to me finally after I’ve been begging for it for an hour now.”

Jake coos at you before standing up and walking over to you, abandoning his game completely and engulfing you in his embrace. 

“I’m sorry, baby,” he mumbles into your neck as you fall backwards on his bedsheets, your boyfriend on top of you. He kisses up a trail up to your jawline, then moves to your lips for a moment and dragging it out longer and longer. “Lemme make it up to you, huh?”

PARK SUNGHOON

“What’s gotten you so quiet?” Sunghoon asks as he nudges you with his hip, standing right beside you.

You finish washing your face before patting it dry with a towel, ignoring his questioning look as he pierces you through the mirror. You put the towel next to the sink before sighing.

“I don’t know, bro,” you say, biting your smile back as you notice his eyebrows raising up at the unusual nickname. “I guess I’m just tired.”

Sunghoon snorts quietly before turning to face you, leaning his hip against the marble counter. “Really?”

You look at him with fake confusion, tilting your head to the side as you blink innocently. “What do you mean?”

“If I remember correctly, I was just blowing your back out ten minutes ago and now you’re here calling me this fraternal slur?” He claps back, smiling lazily as your eyes go wide at his bold words. 

“Sunghoon! Oh my god,” you gasp, smacking his bare chest with your towel. “Have you got no shame?”

He barks out a laugh before walking up to you and grabbing you by your hips. “Maybe that’ll make you think twice before trying your stupid shit on me again.” And as these words leave his mouth, he’s leaning down and smacking his lips onto yours, already pulling you to your bedroom again.

KIM SUNOO

“A WHAT?” 

Your arms fall to your sides, and you watch as your beloved boyfriend goes into a fucking spiral over a nickname that’s just slipped out by an accident. “Sunoo, baby, please, calm d-”

“I know you did not just call me bro. Don’t ever talk to me again.”

You follow him out of the kitchen from where he storms out, an outraged expression on his face. You stifle your laughter and put on a serious facade as he drops down on the couch with an irritated huff, muttering under his nose about how unbelievable you were being.

You take a seat next to him and place your hand on his thigh. “I swear, I only said that out of habit.”

“Yeah, what’s next in the store for me?” He asks and this time you can’t help but chuckle. “No, tell me. When should I be prepared for you to start calling me homie or gang?”

“It’s not that serious!” You laugh in his face, only making his expression more sour. But how can you help it when he looks at you as if you’ve just pissed in his cereal bowl? 

“I’ve literally never been more offended in my life.”

You wrap your arms around his neck and pepper his cheeks with kisses, hoping this will ease him out sooner. “I’m sorry, my beloved, my heart, my everything.”

“Keep talking and you might be forgiven somewhere in the future.” 

YANG JUNGWON

“I was thinking about buying that one perfume lately,” you say suddenly, eyes planted at the tv as the commercial reminded you of your last trip to the mall.

“Are you sure?” Jungwon hums, resting his head over yours that’s leaned on his shoulder. “It was rather expensive, no? I don’t want you regretting buying it two days later.”

“I know, bro,” you groan and turn your face to bury it in his neck. You don’t notice his head tilting to look at you a little questionably. “That’s why I’m thinking about it. I don’t know if I’ll actually commit.”

There’s a brief silence before his sweet voice follows after the kiss he presses to your hair. 

“I don’t think that’s my name, baby.”

You pull away, slightly confused, blinking up at your boyfriend. “What?”

“Out of all the nicknames you’ve given me, I liked that one the least.”

It takes you a moment to click and finally comprehend his words, and when you do, you let out a small huff at his still rather soft way with words.

You wrap your arms around his middle. “Oh… Sorry, I didn’t actually mean to say that.”

“It’s okay,” he assures quickly, bringing you closer to his warm chest, a steady heartbeat beating underneath his sweatshirt. 

“Well, which one do you like the most?” You ask, implying to his previous thought. 

Jungwon ponders for a moment. “Hm, I don’t know. I like all of them, really. Won is pretty nice, or my love… I like dumpling surprisingly a lot too.”

You can’t help but laugh at his answer, mind barely recalling the one and only time you jokingly referred to him as a dumpling while you pinched on his dimpled cheek lovingly.

“Gosh, you’re so cute.”

NISHIMURA RIKI

“Can you pass me the salt, bro?” You ask your boyfriend who’s sitting on your left. 

You’re too focused on frowning upon the bland food you’ve made to notice how Riki’s eyebrows furrowed up at his new nickname. 

After not having a response in the following minute, you turn to him with surprise as you notice the look on his face. 

“I don’t know, sis, I think your hands are fully capable, no?” He chirps at you and you gape at him with confusion before the realization dawns on you.

You snort, shaking your head at your boyfriend. “Don’t be a child, I didn’t mean to say that. It just slipped out.”

Riki hums. “Dunno, it sounded pretty natural to me, sis. Almost as if it was your regular nickname for me, sis.”

“Stop it!” You whine out, dropping your fork before glaring at the smirking man on your left. “I didn’t mean it. Now, give me a kiss.”

You pucker your lips and lean forward, only to be met with his hand pressed flat to your mouth. Your eyebrows shoot high as he chuckles at you. 

“Sorry but I’m not into incestuous relationships.”

“Riki, c’mon!” You groan, kicking his shin underneath the table harmlessly. 

He cups your cheeks with a laugh and squishes your face with his fingers. “‘m just teasing,” he muses before leaning in and closing the gap between you. 

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[emmyrosee]

Oh nothing.. just thinking about how it’s been really hot lately so you, yuji, sukuna are usually laying around in nothing but shorts and a tank top bc it’s too hot to do anything. So u come up with this great idea to have a water fight in the back garden with the water hose too cool off and it’s just a bunch of messy nonsense and then u end the day at a 7/11 licking ice cream in sukunas car…🥹❤️

-Anon🥢

BRO I WILL COMBUST THIS IS SO CUTE

__

“I’ll… be right back.”

“Don’t threaten me.”

You’re quick to scurry away after Sukuna speaks, smirking and letting your feet carry you through the grass of his back yard. The plant is hot under your toes, but you pay it no mind as you make your way to the side of his parent’s house, grabbing the hose used to fill Yuuji’s pool.

It’s hot, far too hot for comfort. Yuuji’s pool is constantly filled with cooler water to keep him from sweating, a large hat plopped on his head while you periodically smother him with sunscreen as he plays with his floating toys. His older brother, on the other hand, tans lazily in the beams of sun, his body warm as he soaks up the rays of light. He’s always been better in the heat, but you can tell even he’s sluggish from the temperature.

You grin as you turn the dial to ‘shower’ and hide the tool behind your back, being sure to keep your steps quiet. You tuck your lips in your mouth to conceal any giggles, and you creep towards him with mischief coursing through your body.

“Baby?”

“Hmm?”

“Look at me.”

Immediately, Sukuna’s head turns to face you, and you quickly spray his warmed body with a spray of the hose, his face going from confusion to panic in a matter of seconds

“WHAAAAAAAAAAT THE FUCK-“ he screams, leaping up as he’s covered in frigid water, trying to run away from the spray. You laugh and keep your aim, watching him dash around the yard to create distance. Luckily- or, unlucky for him- the fence keeps him contained in his running, and you and yuuji laugh at his expense. “ILL KILL YOU! YOU HEAR ME!”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” you snicker. “Gotta catch me first!”

“Wanna pay!” Yuuji whines. “Pease!”

“Quick yuuji, come here!” You beckon, but his older brother is quick to scoop up the small boy, using him as a shield. Yuuji squeals and kicks his tiny legs, and you shake your head as he holds the small boy to his chest.

“You’d never spray the innocence of a child, would you?” He faux pouts, and yuuji merely giggles at you.

You shake your head, “no. Thankfully, you’ve got long legs.” You spray his long legs with the hose, and he growls and darts yuuji down to protect his now cold, wet legs. You laugh and are swift to move the dial to ‘mist’ and you spray the both of them. This, has sukuna actually hold Yuuji still, making sure to cool off his little brother under the spray. He squirms and laughs at the little mist of water coating his body, and when your eyes flick up to sukuna, your heart flutters as you see him smiling happily rather than mischievously.

“Cold!” Yuuji chirps.

“Want me to stop?” You offer.

“No!” He shakes his head. So, you don’t. You sway the spray from side to side, coating his left then his right, all the while he flails his limbs and laughter shakes his small body. “Wanna spray su’kna!”

“What.”

“Come here!” You encourage, flashing your boyfriend an empathic smile. He groans and places yuuji down in the mud, who quickly toddles over to you and grabs the bottom of the hose. To humor his brother, he pretends to run away, faux screams of panic as you turn the dial back to shower and pass the little boy the hose. He’s quick to aim at his brother, who grits his teeth at the cold.

But, the signals in your brain cross when the water is suddenly turned to you, splashing against your skin. You yelp and turn instinctively to run, but don’t make it very far before Sukuna catches on and catches you, holding you in his big arms as Yuuji sprays you both. You shriek and writhe in his grip, receiving the bulk of the spray with your body against his.

“Karma, you fucker,” he snickers while yuuji sprays both of your torsos. You playfully bat at his chest to try and get away, but his hand comes down to grip your chin steady and pull you into a kiss. You mewl and wind your arms around his neck, the cold water stopping as you continue the affection. He pulls away, smirking. “Figured that would stop your fucking whining and screaming.”

Yuuji tosses the hose to the side, “wanna kiss! Pease! Wanna smoochie kiss!” Sukuna laughs and picks his brother up, and while you press a kiss to his cheek, Sukuna, as always, playfully bites his rosy cheek, making his brother laugh at his brother’s silliness.

“If I get you both ice cream, will you let me tan in peace?” He asks. You both instantly nod, and he rolls his eyes, “same fuckin’ brain cell, I swear.”

The sun doesn’t take long to dry all of you off, and you’re quick to load into Sukuna’s truck, listening to the radio and watching as people in their yards handle the heat- some are in their garden, others tanning much like sukuna. Some kids run through sprinklers, while others bounce a basketball in their driveways. Yuuji babbles about anything and everything, what he’s learning in school and his silly friend Kugisaki, occasionally stopping to dance to the song playing.

The ride to 7/11 is short enough, and you load out of Sukuna’s truck, far too excited for a sweet treat. Sukuna has a favorite, a lemon slush that comes in a cup, while you and Yuuji select the same ice cream every time. Sukuna doesn’t bother waiting to pay to start eating, but he does slide the bill across the countertop, and once he does, you and Yuuji dive right in.

“Have a good day!” The cashier says, and you compliment him with a ‘thank you’ and load back into Sukuna’s truck, already sticky with humidity filling the air.

You eat your ice creams in peace, fending off the sweltering heat with the treat, and all you can think about is how much you love the other two occupants in the car.

And how sticky yuuji is going to be, once he’s done.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

accused (part two)

words: 1k

warnings: established relationship, accusations of stealing, protective!rafe (hes such a good boyfriend <3)

followed (part one) / accused (part two)

“hi.” you smile, cheeks slightly blushed.

“hello, beautiful.” rafe doesn't give you time to be nervous, pulling you into a hug.

you relax into his hold, taking a deep inhale and exhale as your cheek rests against his chest, remembering the solace you found in his arms when you needed it most.

“excited?” rafe asks.

“we are just getting ice cream together.” you giggle.

“yeah, sure.” rafe joins in your laughter, loving the way it sounds in his ears. “but it's an ice cream date.”

“does that mean you're gonna kiss me goodnight?” you look at the rapidly setting sun. 

“of course.” rafe loops your hands together, guiding you towards the line to order.

-- 6 months later --

“missed you.” you wrap your arms around rafes shoulders, pulling him down into a strong kiss.

“missed you too, baby.” rafe doesn't point out that it's only been a couple days, having to spend the weekend apart as you were out of town with your parents.

“what are your plans?” rafe asks, hands gently massaging up and down your back.

“hanging out with you all day-”

“and night.” rafe interrupts you, smirking.

“anyways, then shopping with the girls tomorrow. we might also go out for dinner.” you shrug.

“sounds fun.” rafe nods. “just staying on the island though, right?” rafe knows you usually like to go inland or up the coast to shop, but that's usually a longer planned trip.

“mhm. just gonna hit all those little boutiques.” you shake your head, “but i dont wanna talk about tomorrows plans.”

“what do you wanna talk about then, sweetheart?” rafe asks.

“don't wanna talk.” you admit shyly. “just wanna kiss you.”

rafe bends down, lifting you up with large hands under his thighs, rushing up the stairs. “we can definitely do that, baby.

--

“that looks so cute on you!” you squeal, grabbing your friend giannas hand and pulling her over to the mirror.

“i love it!” she gushes before checking the pricetag. “only $85, im absolutely buying it.”

“oh, girl that's a steal!” you nod. 

“it's not like you don't have rafes credit card.” tina rolls her eyes, but there's a smile on her face to convey she's not serious.

“he says to buy whatever i want, as long as i give him a fashion show when i get home.” you say as gianna heads back into the changing room to get back into her clothes.

you pull out your phone to text rafe an update as tina does the same to her boyfriend.

hey rafeyyy miss you! shopping is going so well 💕 I think we're gonna hit up like two or three more stores and then ill be home!

alright, princess. have fun. see you real soon ❤️

“can i take some of the dresses?” the voice makes you jump, not even realizing that the shop owner was standing in front of gianna, hand outstretched.

“uh, yeah.” she hands over two of the hangers. “im not getting these two.”

the owner makes a disgruntled face, looking over the other two dresses gianna is still holding. “where's the other dress?”

“what dress?” you interject.

“yeah, she only tried on four.” tina adds.

“well, i saw five go in. you'll have to empty your bag.”

gianna is only wearing a small purse, no way a dress would even fit inside of it, but that's not the point, it's the principle that counts.

“hell no!” you say. “check the security cameras if you want, but we aren't allowing you to search us.”

“really?” the shop keepers eyebrows rise, like she expected you to just bow your head since you're a group of younger girls. “i guess you'll just have to pay for the dress i saw go into the dressing room and didn't come out. its $500.”

you pull out your phone, furiously messaging rafe and sending him your location.

“you messed with the wrong person.” tina shakes her head.

“and here, i don't want these either.” gianna hands the owner the other two dresses, even the one she loved.

“yeah, we will never shop here again.” tina says.

“we don't need thieves like you, anyways!” she grabs the dresses. “just pay for the one you're trying to steal and get out!”

you're sure if she pulled this scam on other people that they'd just get sick of the arguing and pay up, but you're absolutely refusing to play into her little game.

you smile as you hear the door open then slam closed, turning to see rafe with an angry look on his face.

“thank god you're here, rafe. this lady is trying to say we're stealing from her but refuses to watch the security cameras.” you inform him.

“is that so?” rafe looks around the shop. 

“rafe…” the shop keeper mumbles, trying to figure out why she knows the name. “you're rafe cameron?”

“yeah.” he crosses his arms. “like cameron development cameron. you know, the ones who own this entire block? including your landlords?” rafe tsks, shaking his head side to side. “i wonder what my dad would say if he knew you were accosting his son's girlfriend.”

“im-im sorry. i think this is all a big misunderstanding.” the owner quickly quoted, rushing away back to the counter.

“gianna, tina, you girls okay?” rafe asks.

“yeah.” tina twirls her hair around her finger, making you give her a quick glare.

“all good, thanks rafe.” gianna nods.

“lets get you girls out of here.” rafe wraps his arm around your shoulder, leading you out of the shop. 

he presses a kiss to the top of your head once you're outside, leading you a couple steps away from your friends. “want to keep shopping? or are you done?”

“maybe…” you pout your lower lip out and look up at rafe. “maybe you could come with us to the next couple shops?”

rafe can't control the smile that stretches over his cheeks. “id be more than happy to, baby.”

you let out a little squeal, pressing your lips against his cheek. “i hate to say it, but thank god that guy followed me that day. cause i got the best boyfriend ever out of it.”

sfw taglist: @winterrrnight @bejeweledreverie

[howdoesagrapewrites]

𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧 𝐉𝐚𝐰𝐬

Plot: Imagine being the legitimized bastard of Daemon Targaryen, and having a very devoted family.

Cw: fem!reader, cisgender female reader (I'm sorry mascs and nbs, I'll make something for you later) incest/targcest implied for later, platonic and romantic yanderes, yandere EVERYONE x reader, here's a list of every character that will be featured (not all of them are romantic):Rhaenyra Targaryen, Daemon Targaryen, Rhea Royce, Alicent Hightower, Otto Hightower, Viserys I Targaryen, Aegon II Targaryen, Aemond Targaryen, Haelena Targaryen, Daeron Targaryen, Lucerys Velaryon, Jacaerys Velaryon, Laena Velaryon, Laenor Velaryon

Notes: I go by a very strange mix of the series and the books, I haven't seen the series in a while so the timeline will most likely be a mess. I'd like this to be a series but I've been incredibly busy. Extra: at first I thought about making reader Mysaria's daughter, but this is a self insert, so it's best that you look however you like, leaving the mother anonymous. The only physical reference I'll make will be reader's silver hair

>After Rhaenyra was declared the heir of the iron throne, Daemon, insulted, flew away with his mistress, the white worm, who he would conceive a child with, even asking for a dragon egg for the prince or princess to come

>However, Viserys demanded him to go back to his home and wife, he sent Mysaria off to lys, where the stress of a storm in the trip back made her lose the baby

>Daemon never fully forgave his brother, and this left him less than eager to have another child anytime soon

>So imagine his surprise, when 7 years later, there's a rumour spreading in flea bottom like wildfire, about a girl carrying Daemon's bastard

>Many women had claimed to carry a royal child before, thinking this could give them any sort of prize, so Daemon didn't think much of it at first, but when he heard her name, he recognized her as one of his previous "favorites" who disappeared without a trace months ago

>She was said to have taken residence in Essos, and Daemon went on dragonback to find her. She was from the free cities, five years older than Daemon, and a heart as cold as a northern winter, or so they said. She was not expecting Daemon, running away to have the child in peace

>"They said I was too far along when I found out, moon tea would've only harmed me. Besides, it was lucrative in its own way" said the woman. Daemon did little to suppress the disgust on his face when thinking about her being defiled by other men while carrying his dragonseed babe

>She wanted no part in the baby's life, and Daemon, in his particular fashion, informed her he'd take the youngling as soon as it's out of her, may even pay her a few coins to make sure she won't do much as think about keeping it

>A few months passed, and he returned to king's landing with a babe in arms. Demanding an egg in honor of the birth of princess Y/N Targaryen

>This egg would later hatch into the dragon Dagahrion, the princess' bound dragon

>The court was a hot mess, according to Otto, he wouldn't be surprised if the young creature lost its left ear because of all the gossip and ill-speaking of her, just like her father. This was a scandal, considering he was still married to Rhea Royce, who he gravely dishonored time and time again, Daemon was always shameless, but this was crossing a limit, even for him, to call his bastard a princess while refusing to lay with his own rightful wife, disgraceful

>Daemon tried to use you as yet another attempt to get his brother to annul his marriage to "the bronze bitch", but even when he failed, he did everything in his power to legitimize his daughter

>Despite everyone on the council telling Viserys how foolish it'd be to do it, making enemies out of the Royce house, further insulting Rhea, and putting a whoreborn on the line of succession (no matter how far from the throne), all it took was a little yawn and the bright twinkle of your eyes to make him melt, he is fully committed to his role of uncle, even as a doting grandfather, considering his father passed long before her birth

>Viserys sent Daemon back to the Vale, saying he should do his best to give lady Rhea an heir, to make up for the slip and avoid causing the Targaryen house any more trouble. Viserys, for totally not selfish reasons wanted to keep the princess in KL, saying Rhea should not be made to raise his bastard

>Daemon said he'd rather be exiled again than to leave his daughter in Hightower hands to go try to fuck his wife. Viserys was greatly offended by the implication that the Hightowers truly ruled and schemed while he reigned

>To his outmost displeasure, he finally had to let his niece go to the Vale with her father

>Rhea loved you as soon as she set eyes on you, completely separating you from your father's actions, and seeing you as a pure angel in this horrible situation

>But it was so difficult with Daemon around, she just wanted to whisk you away and love you, she'd pray to the mother to be able to breastfeed you, crying when she heard you wail in frustration of your hunger, since it took several wet nurses to get you to drink milk

>But Daemon was always around to remind her you were not hers, that he considered her lowly, not worthy of you. He'd correct you when you learning to speak, and dared to refer to her as "mama"

>It was said the ground of the vale would shake upon them yelling when fighting over you

>But this joy to Rhea was short lived, as Daemon sent you to KL when he had to fight in the war of the stepstones, saying the "nest of vipers" was more deserving of you than she was. When you were three, your step mother had an accident while hawking, many said Daemon orderded for her to be poisoned when she was bed bound, others said the distress of your parting made her lose skill

>It was Viserys greatest pleasure when you were left at his care, his adorable baby niece was now an infant, and somehow you were even more charming, being able to speak, sing and walk

>To no one's surprise, Viserys' reaction was not generalized, with many not being keen on having a bastard running around the castle playing with the princes, by that point, Aegon was 8, Haelena was 7, Aemond was 5, and Daeron was 1, and almost all of them could see people treated you differently

>Rhaenyra was welcoming, baby Lucerys had just been born, and she was delighted to have a girl to spoil, it only helped that Jacaerys loved you as well, and would often fight his uncles for the chance to be with you

>Alicent in particular was not pleased with your presence, thinking you were an uncomfortable conversation to have with her children, especially resentful of the fact her youngest son would be attached at the hip with you

>To Otto, you were an annoyance, a living proof of Daemon's pure disregard for the norms, however, he could rest at night knowing you were ninth in the line of succession, and a girl, who would someday marry a son of a minor house and be too busy bearing children to present a claim to the iron throne

>Even though the Hightowers were tougher than the king, they did eventually succumb to your spell, and became just as enamoured with you as everyone else, in their minds, you were almost a product of spontaneous generation, completely ignoring your shameful father and prostitute mother

>Your arrival also caused the birth of Lucerys (who was again, born with a striking resemblance of Harwin Strong, just like his older brother) to be less gossiped about, after all, your case was much more interesting

>Some people in court starting referring to you as "The princess of flea bottom", this title costed quite a few tongues around the castle, ordered by Viserys, happily approved by Otto

>The Hightower hand was careful not to show too much affection to you, as it was improper and he knew how zealous was Viserys when it came to you

>Aegon was "already too old to be playing" in his words, and kept his distance from you, you reminded him to much of his sticky handed little brothers

>But as if you knew, you chased him around and praised him for his knightly demeanor (in your eyes) and how he's just like the heroes in Viserys' stories. It was not a long time before Aegon now appointed himself as your guard, watching like a hawk over his brothers and nephews when he thought they were being too rough on you

>Haelena loves you from the start, sees you as a little doll, she loves showing you her bugs, you're the only one who listens to her attentively

>Jacaerys and Daeron are only a year old, but always search for you, you think they're cute, something that spikes jealousy on Aemond, he wants you to think of him as someone worthy of admiration, like you see his older brother, he'd even accept being cute in your eyes, but he has none of those traits to appeal to you. You love him and love playing with him nonetheless, but he thinks he needs something else to win your favor

>The Velaryons dote on you too, with Laenor married to Rhaenyra and once your father marries Laena that same year, they are maybe too eager to become part of your family, and regard you as theirs

>Especially Laena, who Daemon allows (unlike with Rhea) to pamper and care for you, but still corrects you when it comes to remembering your origins, Laena may love you, but she's not your mother

>Maybe Daemon does this as a way to imagine you're only his, he doesn't care for the woman who abandoned such a precious treasure, she has been wiped away from your life and memory, you're only familiar with your father, you only belong to him

>You have his silver hair, you have his name, no matter who your mother was, you are his true valyrian heir, his dragonseed

>Unfortunately, Daemon is not the only one whose eyes light up when thinking of owning you

[bettysupremacy]

hi love ! could you write a fluff!rafe where the reader is a workaholic and ends up getting a cold and rafe takes care of her? 💌🍄

my boyfriend!!!!!!!

“I need to go in today.”

You gaze at Rafe, who returns your stare. It feels futile, yet you persist. You try to sit up, pulling the covers off your legs, but retreat under them when the overhead fan reaches. A dull ache permeates your body. The cold seeps into you, but the blanket is suffocating. Your body feels warm, but the air is biting.

You concede. “Nevermind.”

“Yeah.” Rafe moves to help you gently, he’s fixing the blanket.

“It’s fine.”

“Seriously,” Rafe warns suddenly. “I’m gonna make you cut your shifts down.”

“But-“

“No, this is a ‘I want to pass the time’ job, and you’re treating it like you’re employee of the month.” He’s annoyed, with you surely. “Shit, are you employee of the month?”

You frown, ignoring his question. He’s right. Though, he usually is. He already provides for you through the big money of the company his father passed down, you just don’t wanna be bored. You don’t want to contribute nothing, and you’re treating it like there’s rent to pay and mouths to feed. Well, there is, but not in the demand you

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he huffs. “I just can’t stand seeing you like this.”

“I know.”

He helps you sit, moving the pillows behind you. Your chest feels fuzzy and so do your eyes. Dully, your nausea makes you cough.

“I’m nauseous.” You tell him.

“Jeez.” He murmurs, his eyes round and concerned. “You want zofran?”

“Yes.” You whisper.

Tears pool in your eyes as he sits up, collecting at your eyelashes as you try to blink them away. You bring your hand to swipe at them, sniffling. Rafe’s brain lags.

“What?” He asks, kneeling down again, hands in desperate search of your face. “Baby, what?”

“I’m embarrassed.” You cry.

“Why?” His rough hands swipe at your tears gently. “Everyone gets sick.”

You turn away from him,

“If this is about me being upset earlier, I swear it wasn’t at you.” He stresses. “I-I had a bad day, and seeing you’ve succumbed to illness makes me sad.”

You giggle wetly. “Succumbed to illness.”

He beams proudly. “I knew that would get a laugh.”

You smile up at him, fever working through your veins slowly. You shake again miserably, working yourself up into a fit of fat tears. They roll down the hills of your cheek heavily, pooling under your chin. You blink out three at once and Rafe nearly has a conniption. Why are you crying?

“It’s not.”

He works his hand over your hair, gently, but not cautiously. “Then what?” He pleads. “Help me understand.”

“I just love you.”

“You’re crying because you love me?”

“I don’t feel good.” You correct.

“You don’t feel good?”

“And I love you,” You admit. “but you’re here,” You moan. “seeing me like this, and you’re so pretty.”

He laughs, quickly recovering to a sympathetic face when you frown at him.

“Don’t be embarrassed.” He soothes, lips near your ear. “Sometimes I look at you and I want to cry.”

“But you never do.” You wallow.

“Have you ever seen me cry?”

“Once.”

“Forget that.” He grimaces. “The point is, you’re stressed and sick.”

“I don’t see the point.” You murmur.

“You’re vulnerable right now, to your.. feelings. If I were sick, and stressed, and I saw you, I think I might cry too.”

“No you wouldn’t.”

“Did the people cry when the angels came down in the Bible?”

“Did the angels.. come down?” You ask. “I’ve never read it.”

“I’m not sure.”

You laugh. “Maybe we should ask Scar.”

“Scar?”

“She’s smart.”

“I think she’s Jewish.”

“So?”

“Different book, my love.”

“Duh, I’m not that sick.” You laugh. It drips with sticky sticky cough syrup. “But still, she’s smart, maybe she’ll know.”

Rafe sighs lovingly. “Maybe. We got off track.”

“We always do.”

Rafe snorts. “You’re feeling better.”

“Get on track.”

“I don’t remember the point I was making with angels.”

You laugh, tilting your head up to look at him. “You’re useless.”

“Abominable girl.” He chastises, sitting up anyways.

“Go get me medicine.” You’re smiling. “Useless, useless doctor.”

[miikapie]

"Its not gonna fit!" with Geto, Choso, Toji and Gojo! (NSFW)

Just posting this because ive been thinking about writing it for weeks. Enjoy this tiny drabble while I stress over college!

Cw:.. fem!reader x various jjk men, they're mean :(( (toji, gojo too kinda..), choso being too sweet, cunilingus (choso), bad grammar ofcourse, SEX SMASHING INTERCOURSE BABY MAKING FUCKING MAKING LOVE i hope you get the point.

/MDNI//NSFW UNDER THE CUT!!

Gojo is so mean to you. If you say absolutely anything related to his size, or not being able to accommodate to his girth, hes seizing the opportunity to brag and belittle you while doing so.

"Awh baby.. it can't fit? hmm? Is my cock too big? Its okay, cutie, I know I know.. Maybe we just need to pay attention to your little clit, and we'll stretch you out too yeah? Im gonna make sure your little cunt remembers every single one of my veins no matter how long it takes to get in aallllll the way."

Geto (sighs dreamily) I LOVE THIS MAN. Totally much nicer than Gojo, but unintentionally mind-breaks you. His voice btw is so sexy can you imagine how husky it is duirng the deed??? drooling rn.

"Oh, what was that? It wont fit, hm? Thats okay, love. We'll find our way around it. Just gotta stretch you out some more so i can hit that spot you love so much, mhm? Right there isnt it? Yeah, I can tell with the way you're tightening around me. Or what about this? Maybe I'll touch your clit a little more. God... I love seeing you like this. Thats a good girl.. lay down juuust like that. You dont need to think for yourself anymore when I've got you."

Toji is SO mean, and incredibly cocky. Despite knowing damn well he's way too big to bottom out immediately in you, he takes this opportunity be snarky fun of you while destroying your insides.

" 's too big? We'll make it fit, doll. Stop moving like that, you know its just gonna hurt more. Give it a few minutes and you'll be crying like a bitch in heat. Fine. I'll be nice i guess, but im still going all the way in. 's not my fault your pussy's too damn tight. Fuck.. so good.. Yeah, see? Told you you could take it, wipe those tears 'fa me and keep your legs up here on my shoulders, yeah?"

Nanami... ah. He tries so so hard to be nice to you, by slowly bullying his way in your walls, but no matter how many times you do the deed it seems like you can never keep up with his size

"Too much, honey? Its okay, sweetheart. Look, I'll put a pillow just under your back here.. and it'll make you feel much better. Whats that? Feels nicer now? Ill take it slow as always honey, just take your deep breaths... God.. you're always so tight... It feels nice when I touch you right here doesn't it?..Feels deeper? Yes, love, thats the pillow under your back helping you relax. We're gonna have to use that trick next time wont we? Thats it, sweet thing, see? Im almost bottomed out and you haven't even noticed at all."

Choso is too much of a sensitive lover to even think about ever possibly pushing your boundaries. If he ever heard you say anything along the lines of 'too big' he'd pull out immediately and instead eat you out as an apology. (even though you've told him its just something you said in the heat of the moment) (he still leaves you shaking tho.)

[mmurderhousewrites]

Rich Baby Daddy pt. one (sukuna x reader)

Summary: You're invited to a party by a close friend and end up bumping into someone from your past.

Warnings: none.

The mornings used to be your favorite. Waking up next to your hunk of a man. The sun shining through your bedroom windows. Oh how you missed those lovely mornings.

Now however, your mornings consisted of you waking up at the crack of dawn due to your crying 4 year old. bathing and clothing not only yourself but your child as well, making breakfast, and somehow managing to get to work on time.

Now on your days off, if you were lucky, Yuji, your son, would sleep in. And if god was somehow on your side that day, your baby daddy might even come pick up his son for awhile, giving you some free time. But those days were rare considering Sukuna is a business man.

Sukuna is the CEO of jujutsu tech, a huge electronic corporation. you had met him through your close friend getou and hit it off. Eventually you two moved in with each other and not long after that he got you pregnant.

Times have changed though unfortunatley. Sukuna is a very hard working man, so hardworking that he put his job before his own family. About a year after yuji was born you decided to leave after getting into a big argument with sukuna, taking yuji with you.

At first you stayed with your parents for a while before finding yourself a cute apartment in the city, it was a two bedroom 1 and a half bathroom. That's where you and yuji have been ever since.

You and your baby dad have had a neutral relationship ever since, sukuna of course always trying to get you to go back but times have changed and you are a new woman.

As of now it was about 1:00pm. You worked as a journalist in the new station in the city, not to far from your apartment. sitting at your desk, going through old news feed, your phone dings.

Looking over you see youve gotten a message. It was from Getou.

Geto: hey, theres some kind of party later a friend of mine is hosting. Wanted to know if u were interested in being my plus 1 ;p

You giggle to yourself. What a flirt. You could always drop yuji off to your parents for the night, after all they loved your little pink haired baby. And on top of that you could use a night out.

Quickly typing back to geto you respond,

Me: Sounds interesting.. Whats the dresscode?

geto: formal. I figure you might get a good story out of one of these rich folks huh?

Me: hmmm i think im sold suguru.

geto: great! ill pick you up at 8.

"L/N! I'm not paying you to text on your phone! I need a story!" You hear your boss, Mark yell from his office behind you.

You roll your eyes before collecting your things, standing up you head over to marks office. "The Richardsons are hosting a party tonight, i'm gonna see what tea i can find. I know the juliani"s are hiding something." You say leaning against the door frame.

"yeah well the Juliani's have a mind of their own."

"im gonna leave to go get ready." you say turning around, heading to the exit.

"L/N!" Mark calls out to you making you stop and turn to face him. "be careful. I don't need another Journalist coming up missing." You nod your head before leaving the building and heading to the parking lot.

It was true, the last journalist who went to investage the Juliani family, they turned up missing. In fact it was your coworker Nobara Kugisaki. Police reports were made out by her family about a week ago and nothing has come up.

you shivered as you walked to your car, the cold making it so you can see your breathe. Once you reached your car, a small 2020 Honda civic, you opened your door and put your bags in.

"Y/n" you freeze, hearing that oh so sexy voice say your name for the first time in what? months?

Turning around you find yourself face to face with the man you once loved, oh who are you kidding still love. He was wearing a long black coat and black jeans, his pink hair ruffled as usual and his tattoos just added to his handsome features.

"ryo- what are you doing here?" You ask, crossing your arms.

He walks closer to you, making you take a step back, leaning against your cars back door.

"i just wanted to see you." He says quietly, swiping a piece of your hair out of your face and behind your ear. You can't help but blush.

Pushing his hand away, you roll your eyes. "What are you really here for" you werent an idiot. Sukuna is a powerful man and busy one at that, there was no way he got out of work just to come see you.. especially considering he barely seen your son. But you couldn't be mad after all he was sending you checks every few weeks with at least 3,000$ on them.. so he was still providing for you and yuji in a way.

He chuckles, "I heard youre going to that party later with Getou.."

Was he serious right now? "What about it?" You question, eyebrow perking up.

"Don't go." He says darkly.

"Are you kidding me? What are you jealous? I'm a grown woman i deserve a night out once in a while!" You say before turning away and hoping in your car.

Sukuna leans against your window, so you roll it down. "Look kitten, if i were you i'd actually listen to your baby dad for once. It's not gonna be pretty" he smiles before backing away from your car.

You take this opportunity to pull out of the parking lot, making your way to yuji's daycare.

When you arrive at the daycare. You are first greeted by gojo, one of the daycare teachers and also getou's best friend.

"Well hello there Y/N! Here for yuuji?" Gojo asks, leaning towards you. "Its nap time right now so the children are asleep."

"Well unfortunately i'm going to have ti disturb his sleep because we have a pretty busy schedule for tonight" you laugh. "How have you been?" You havent really had a conversation with gojo in a while, you and him werent close, maybe because of how much of an extrovert he is.

"Im alriiight! I got a new apartment on 37th its a real beautyy." He drags on.

"Nice! Thats good to here" gojo pulls out his walky talky and yells loudly, "yuji has an early dismissal!!"

Next thing you know, theres a bunch of crying children in the next room over. What an idiot. You mentally facepalm.

Shoko, another daycare teacher comes out with yuji in her arms. He looks over to you and smiles.

After you get yuji and yourself situated in the car, you guys make your way over to your parents house. You had called them on your way to get yuji and of course they were more then thrilled to take yuji for the night.

Your parents lived anout 25 minutes away from the city so the drive wasnt too bad. Yuji was in his carseat playing on his ipad and minding his business.

"Mommy can i have 100$" your four year old says randomly. You cant help but laugh loudly.

"What do you need $100 for butt?" You ask, looking back at your som through the rear view mirror.

"I want a trampoline" he says, looking at you.

"You already have a trampoline at Nana's house and youre going there right now."

"But thats at nana's i want my own! My friend megumi has one at his house" he says, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah yeah."

After dropping your sin off to your parents, and making your way make home, you look through your closet trying to find a decent formal dress. You did have quit a few dresses considering you and sukuna would attend parties and other get togethers for business reasons.

Coming across a long black velvet dress you stop your search. This dress is skin tight and strapless, but has small diamonds adorned around the dress, making it sparkle just right.

Once you got dressed and finished your makeup, you put your hair up into a slick back ponytail, and added a little star charm clip to go with it. You looked absolutely gorgeous. Though your choice in heels would definitely make your feet sore after a night of dancing, looking good is what truly mattered. After all you were really only going to collect some dirt on any of the business men doing work with the Juliani's.

Tonight sure was going to be interesting.

[bau-drabbles]

say it again

a/n: fluffy fluff w the team and spencer. it was gonna be smut but i was having a mental breakdown over my exams so it took a diff turn lmao.

hope you enjoy 🤍

"hey pretty girl-" "no" "but i-" "no"

wrapped up in a thick warm blanket, you narrow your eyes at morgan while everyone still boards the jet. he's annoying you and you know it. but combined with your health and tiredness, you really don't want to play into it tonight.

however morgan is morgan and he has other plans, obviously

you were just so grateful to be going home where your bed desperately awaits your presence. it had been an awful two weeks, the unsub was meticulous and smart. and he worked with several people, it took days to track them all down. not to mention today was also the delightful day your immune system decided it no longer wanted to work resulting in a high fever and the flu. you passed the worst of it but not yet well enough to do most things.

"are you sleeping?" rossi poked your head and you gave him a slight glare, indicating towards yourself

"does it look like i'm having a party here?" you ask sarcastically, making him raise his arms in defense. rossi chuckles as he sits next to morgan, undoubtedly the two were going to be a pain in the ass the whole entire time.

"you cut us deep kid, you cut us real deep" morgan placed a hand over his heart, feigning sadness and pain. you both went back and forth with the comments until you groan slightly, leaning your head back.

"emily" you complained, pointing to the men opposite you. they laughed a little and slowly coughed when she gives them both a stern looking over.

"you leave her alone morgan, y/n isn't feeling well" emily scolded lightly, turning the page on her book.

"neither am i" he whines back, dramatically flopping his hand to his head.

"aww you poor baby" jj playfully mocked derek, coming back from the kitchen. she warmed a hot water bottle for you to have, her motherly instincts kicking in.

"there ya go" she gave you a sweet smile, standing up as she ruffled your hair. everytime a member of the team were sick, jj always made sure they were comfortable and rested. it was always without hesitation, always making you thankful there was someone in the team like her.

"how you feeling gumdrop?" garcia walks in with all her bags, setting them down as she feels your forehead. your frown is still fixated upon derek with whom you both start playfully bickering with each other

"hey hey, none of that sass mister. y/n is ill tonight, okay?" penelope narrows her eyes at him who blinks in shock.

"babygirl you're supposed to be on my side"

"hey i always am! but you, my delectable chocolate thunder, are getting on everyone's last nerve right now" she taps her pen at the end of his nose. he frowns in confusion but she settles beside him, giving him a nudge.

you give derek a cheeky smile knowing you've won that round and he narrows his eyes at you, knowing he would pay you back when you were better. you rolled the blanket over your head, cocooning yourself in a ball.

"are you feeling better, l/n?" hotch enters, settling in his usual place. you mumble a response from under the blanket, shivering slightly as the hot water bottle pressed firmly into your body. why was it so hard to warm up?

"hey l/n y'know-" derek begins but you cut him off with an annoyed sigh.

"leave me alone" you grumble under the warmth of your layers, hearing chuckles coming from the plane.

you feel something warm wrapped themselves around your lap and you stiffen, ready to tackle some sense into derek. but you see curly hair splayed on your lap. arms coming to snake themselves around your waist, beautiful honey eyes coming to give you some comfort. you relax, holding him that much closer

"never" spencer whispers, his hands coming to holds yours. his fingers interlaced with yours, he brings the back of your hand for a kiss, rubbing your knuckles tenderly. it felt so incredibly intimate, every part of you warming up to his affections.

he can't help but brush some hair back, just observing how beautiful you looked. even when you were sick, you had him in a trance that he never wanted to wake up from. he wants more, you feel his lips brush against your cheeks, breaths mingling until a pillow on your lap completely cuts you from your daze.

"get a room kid!"

[4pfsukuna]

No ordinary love

Debrief: Terry promises to come back in one piece and something about those pretty eyes has you believing everything he says.

Warning: fluff, angst, no weapon formed against me shall prosper but against this mans eyes? We never stood a chance.

Terry has always and i mean ALWAYS been persistant. If he had a goal he didnt care about obstacles; that didnt matter. He could sometimes be so one track minded and while you loved that about him its one of the reasons you and him couldn’t date.

“Still look as good as i remember” You hear and your keys fall from your hands with a loud clatter against the freshly painted porch. After a long day at the hospital being the head nurse may pay well but they make you work for your paycheck. And after your 9 ½ hour shift that was only suppose to be 3 just to help cover everyone’s lunch you were so over it.

“What you doing back in town?” You ask reaching down for your keys but he beats you to it taking the heavy grocery bags from your hands relieving your arms for a moment. He could be here today and gone tonight that’s how it was with him and your attachment issues just didn’t allow that, you needed a constant. Fuck the military and mcmap but you also couldn’t ask him to choose you or a career, so you chose for him.

“Damn no ‘welcome back, i missed you, good to see you it’s been so long’?” he jokes trying to look you in your eyes but you avoid eye contact at all cost. You would fold the minute you looked into those electric blue eyes and when he smiled at you instantly you were weak in the knees fuck standing up.

“Its been so long i guess i should enjoy this time i have before you up and leave” you snap before finally looking up at him and it’s his turn to look away. “If im lucky you’ll say something before you leave this time, hmm?”

And yeah he was fucked up for leaving with no good bye but this man was so unbelievably down bad for you that had you made the slightest indication of wanting him to stay he would’ve. You heald his heart in your hand with no regard or maybe you just didn’t know but to hold that much power over someone was insane.

You can’t lie thee Terry Richmond was a fine fine FINE man. God took his time with him if he took 7 days to create earth he took 8 to make Terry and watching him do all the manly things around your home never got old as he hummed along to you playing Sade.

“See something you like?” He ask looking over his shoulder at you as you take a sip of the moonshine from your cup pulling his attention.

“I love a good handyman… might have to get me one im trynna see what that be like” you throw shade sitting on the couch not expecting him to make his way over to you holding your chin in his palm as he directs your head up to him.

“You can get the idea of another man out your head, i got some loose ends im trying to take care of but it’s always gon be you mama… always has been.” He promises and its the one that he doesnt let anything get in his way but you didnt want him to break this. You look away before he squats down pulling your face to his again lips close enough to yours all he had to do was breath heavier and yall would be kissing.  

“So you finallygon’ let me take you out on a proper date?” He ask his lips brushing yours and you almost can’t even comprehend what he’s asking you feeling the heat buzzing so much between you two as it always did.

Your tongue grazes your bottom lip and he instantly follows it with his eyes before his thumb follows the trail. 

You and i, baby… This is no ordinary love you hear sades voice through the speaker and make the mistake of looking up into his eyes yeah he had you on lock and no key to be found as much as you wanted to stand up you couldn’t.

“Ill think about it” you murmur your lips brushing his before pulling away drinking the rest of your moon shine his eyes watching you with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. He needed to take care of those loose ends ASAP.

And when the morning comes he’s gone… as you expected. You didn’t expect a bouqet of roses and sunflowers on your living room table. You can’t help the smile, you want to be so mad at him but damn this wasn’t no grocery store bouqet this was some professional shit. 

Its another 4 days before you hear from Terry again, and in them 4 days you smiled on your way to work seeing the flowers although they would make you sad looking at them before bed. Just a reminder that all you had was an empty promise and empty bed never coming home to a man and really the only one that you knew was for you. Dating was pointless because none of them was him you didn’t even bother anymore yet he was probably out slanging dick left and right so before those thoughts can take over you submerge yourself deeper in the tub enjoying the lavender bubbles and cinnamon scent of the candles you lit.

Fuck, terry smelled like cinnamon.

“Oh so you do remember my number” You speak into the phone, sitting up a bit, voice raspy.

“I deserved that, how was work mama?” He ask and you instantly hear the frustration in his voice. He sounded tired, frustrated and like he wasn’t in the mood for shit yet he was calling you.

“You sound like your day was longer than mine” you admitted running your fingers through the bubbles and he chuckles.

“Yeah… just needed to hear your voice and I can get through anything. You like the flowers?” He ask and it sounds like he’s taping something a nervous tick you know he has. You don’t even let your mind wander into that territory just hoping it has nothing to do with his cousin mike who was always finding himself at the wrong place at the wrong time.

“Yeah a lot… you being safe out there? Wherever you are?” You ask and he laughs this time.

“Yes baby, gotta make it back to you in one piece” and he never said that before, never even called you. He must be in something deep.

“You in trouble with the law?” You tease earning another laugh and the sound of taping gets louder. Leave it to him.

“And im not your baby, either” you add and that makes him laugh… a real one you can’t hide the smile on your face just glad he can’t see it.

“That’s why you smiling ain’t you?” He ask earning an eye roll as you sink back further into the bath. Its silent for a second, a comfortable one and you close your eyes.

“Just…” you trail off not knowing what kind of trouble he was in. “One piece” you reiterate.

“One piece” he promises easing your mind  before catching you off guard. “You miss me?”

And you hang up the phone.

The next time you see Terry again is when you’re up in the middle of the night, unable to sleep. You’ve tried a bath, a shower, journaling, reading the Bible and even eating. Ok and maybe catfish, baked mac n cheese and cabbage wasn't exactly a late night snack  but it gives you a view of something rustling through the bushes outside and you're quick to grab the knife from the top of the fridge.

You don’t expect it to be a bloody Terry with two bullet holes one in his shoulder and one in his back not close to his spine but as a nurse youve seen enough  life changing accidents and you never wanted it to be terry so as you sit on the couch behind you cleaning his wounds you silently pray over him, for him to any God that will listen that this man lives and comes out on top.

“Baby?” He asks softly and absent mindedly you answer not even realizing he called you that; just that he called you. You were stuck in your own thoughts. you stay quiet for a moment until he looks over his shoulder seeing the emotions swirling in your eyes. Anger, sadness, worry maybe even regret.

“Baby girl i'd rather you just yell at me and tell me you hate me than silent treatment” he grinds his teeth turning back forward so you can finish. It feels nice being touched in a tender way he can’t remember the last time somebody did it's just been fighting for the past few days…weeks… months.

Years.

You don’t say anything at first you look for words to say until you think of the only thing you know that will get through his head.

“You promised… you promised me one piece” you feel your eyes start to water and hes quick to turn around quick to face you when he hears the tremble in your resolve.

“I am in one piece…” he tries watching the way your eyes start to water with tears and you stand up tossing the needle and thread onto the coffee table next to his empty plate.

“Are you fucking serious? This aint one piece! This is not a life” you finally yell at him before a tear falls yanking your hand from his grasp. “You and this disappearing act fucking sucks! I never know when you’re leaving or coming back if it’s for days or weeks and when you do come back you leave all these promises of being with me and settling down! When? When the next bullet goes through your spine and you’re paralyzed?” You snap harshly at him through tears you don’t even give him a second to talk or breathe.

“You never break a promise because you pussyfoot around what actually happened. Its like telling a lie— not telling the whole truth is still a lie. I don’t want no more of your promises or half truths.” And he opens his mouth to speak but you arent done yet now that he got you started he was going to listen to everything you had to say.

“ You don’t think I’m worth more than that? I deserve flowers…all the time. And dates not promises of one. I deserve a person i know i can rely on, someone i can come home to because THEY are home not the house. I deserve love and alot of it…all the love i give without expecting anything in return and you know what? Nah. I need that in return. And you can’t provide that so i gotta let you go cause it’s hurting me more to hold on” you cry but articulate so perfectly hes silent. It’s nothing he could say you read him like a book, tore his heart out like some flimsy pages and closed it shut like you closed your heart off to him.

Everything was falling apart, he didn’t think his day could get worse.  You had walked away and shut your light off making sure he heard you lock your door. Oh you were done done.

Leaning forward he drops his head in his hands you were the only thing keeping him at ease, the only thing keeping him going and without that he was fully ready to crash out. Ready to kill everybody in that crooked ass police station. Fuck peace, nah now he wanted problems. 

Terry was a man that didnt let nothing stand in the way of what he wanted. You are what he wants and right now he was prepared to burn the whole state down if it meant getting you back in his arms, but this time officialy.

Yeah they fucked with the wrong one this time. 

Cleaning up everything, the first aid kit, dishes and alcohol he had to clean up his act to he throws on a fresh shirt looking at the flowers you still had on the table even though they were starting to wilt.

You wrap yourself up in the blankets angry at how stupid this whole stupid situation was. It was starting to feel like that episode of spongebob where he keeps asking squidward “are you finished those errands yet” like an ass there are no errands squidward just didnt want to work and why were you so heartbroken over a man who didnt want to put in the work for you.

“Bitch and they were roommates” your coworker gossips over lunch just some leftovers you had thrown together though before you can ask any follow up questions theres flashing police lights, sirens and yelling making the two of you stand up and rush into the hall. Gossip hour would have to wait.

A familiar blonde girl gets pushed past you on a stretcher covered in glass and blood even blue lips. You know her, an unfortunate upbringing but she cleaned up even got a job at the court house and was in school for law.

“Summer?” You ask walking with the stretcher listening as everybody yells commands to another.

“You must be the girl… t-the girl he’s in love with” she smiles clearly dazed out of her mind. “He did 100 miles an hour with no tires” she whispers before passing back out.

Nothing she was saying was making sense and not that you gathered much but what you did gather is that there’s someone else in a car with her. Someone else that needs help so running back to the main entrance all you see is several shelby springs cop cars and damage to the front doors.

“One day somebody is going to take down those fucking crooked cops” you shake your head thinking maybe summer was to dazed and just saying anything.

“Baby girl” you hear behind you turning to see Terry who looks like he’s also covered in glass, this time a bullet proof vest a bouqet of roses and sunflowers in one hand and a vhs tape player in the other.

“Terry wh—“ he stops you pushing the flowers in your hand pulling your face to his and finally kissing you. His lips are warm and he kisses you hungrily holding you as if youre going to run when he lets go.

“Hey man” a security officer speaks up unaware of the situation, stepping too close for either of your liking.

“Shut the fuck up” he fucking barks before pulling you back to his lips licking into your mouth not caring about professionalism, or restraint just you… it’s always been you. Leaning back into the kiss giving him the same amount of passion and intensity he’s pouring into it you feel him relax with a slight groan.

Pulling back from him needing to breathe he chases your lips making you giggle.

“Stop denying me” he gruffs out only for you to swat at his hands pulling at his shirt to see if he's hurt anywhere but he shakes his head.

“One piece baby, i promised” and that was enough for you. No new bullets, cuts scratches anything. He heard you, heard your rant and didn’t say anything words wasn’t enough he had to show you.

“I also promised you a date… hows tomorrow night?” He ask before shaking his head pulling 3 crumpled hundred dollar bills out his pocket and tucking it into the front of your scrubs.

“Nah call out tomorrow, im picking you up at 6” he tells you with a smile this time shocked you pull him down for a kiss.

“Yeah… i did miss you”

[eoieopda]

tidal.

but vernon has a point to make, so that’s precisely what he does: “i don’t need a sales pitch. you will never — ever — have to convince me to fuck you.” 

pairing: vernon x afab!reader type: one-shot (fluff n’ smut) au: est. relationship wc: 4.8k rating: 18+ a/n: i didn’t plan this whatsoever, but i felt so weirdly compelled to write it that i avoided eye-contact with all of my wips, and now… here we are, lol. cw: pov switch, reader is afab + on their period, gender identity + pronouns aren’t designated, blood mention (obvi), unprotected p in v penetration (ill-advised!!), wee bit of dry-humping (ig?), a lil massage, pet names (baby, sweetheart), self-indulgent ref to a favorite docu of mine, and lastly — vernon (yes, this is a warning 🧍🏻) 🔞 MINORS WHO INTERACT WITH ME AND/OR MY CONTENT WILL BE BLOCKED, WHETHER OR NOT THE CONTENT IS NSFW. I’M AN ADULT WRITING EXCLUSIVELY FOR OTHER ADULTS.

Vernon isn’t blind. 

He can see you out of the corner of his eye, laying flat on your back, several unexplained centimeters away from his side. With the duvet clenched in your fists, you stare intently up at the ceiling, like you’re waiting for it to move — or trying to move it yourself, telekinetically. You keep your bottom lip pinched between your teeth, as if you expect it to make a run for it.

So, yes, Vernon can see you. 

He just can’t figure out what’s wrong with you.

For a few minutes, he attempts to pay attention to the documentary lighting up the screen on the wall ahead. You were the one that picked it — some wild tale about mother-daughter recluses in New York — and he finds it hard to give a shit about it without your usual commentary. Your hot takes are his favorite part of any movie night, after all.

He’ll be the first to admit that he’s never been good at keeping his eyes off you. Try as he might, he can’t glue his gaze to the television; each glance in your direction sticks longer than the one before it, testing the waters. Minutes slip away just like this until he completely caves, turns his head fully, and stares at you outright. 

You still don’t seem to notice.

His brow scrunches up as he watches you, caught in the middle between concerned, confused, and amused by how absolutely ridiculous you look right now. When he speaks, he tries to sound stern, like he isn’t fighting the urge to laugh.

“Baby?”

“Hmm?” is all he gets in response. 

You don’t even look his way. If anything, you tense harder now that his attention is on you. 

None of it makes sense. Not the weird gap you’ve left between your body and his, your total refusal to look him in the eye, or the fact that there wasn’t an argument to precipitate any of this distance. It’s a symptom with no apparent cause, and it’s totally baffling. Brain-breaking, even.

Frowning, Vernon scoots himself across the bed to get closer to you. 

You don’t reciprocate. 

He tugs gently at the hem of your sweatshirt in a silent plea for your attention and receives radio silence in response; unless he counts the way you swallow thickly.

Which, for the record, he does not.

This close, Vernon can feel the anxious energy pulsing out of your tensed-up body in waves, so he leans away and props himself up on his elbow. Desperate to know what broke you and how to fix it, he mutters, “What is happening right now?”

Ope. 

It comes out harsher than it was supposed to, reading more like annoyance than worry, so he immediately clears his throat. Gently and with a brush of his knuckles against your hip bone, he tries again: “Are you okay? Did I do something to make you mad at me?”

A fly on the wall might get the wrong impression and think he stroked you with a live wire instead.

“Oh, my god. No!” You sputter with a jolt, shifting gears quickly from vaguely on-edge to horrified. You shake your head so frantically that Vernon fears you’ll detach it. “No, you haven’t done anything. I’m fine, I just —”

He interjects with a laugh, “— I don’t necessarily believe that —”

Visibly cringing with every muscle in your body, you cover your face with your hands. Not long after you take a deep breath does a meek voice slip out through your fingers, sounding beyond embarrassed.

“I’m so incomprehensibly horny right now that I can’t even look at you.”

For a second, it’s dead silent because he can’t quite process how much of a weirdo you are, or how completely and hopelessly enamored he is with you. But then the dam breaks. His laugh comes out so forcefully that you pull your hands away from your face, eyes wide.

“Is that so?” He smirks, nodding his head towards the television. “Grey Gardens really gets your motor running, huh?”

Absolutely aghast, you swat at his bicep. Then, you sling your arm over your eyes and groan, “I got my period. It has turned me into a sex-crazed monster, I fear.”

Vernon nods in understanding, even though you can’t see it, and hums, “Ahh.”

And he leaves it at that, only because you seem to have more that you want to say. Something you want to ask, maybe, or a reason you may want to give for not jumping his bones at the first opportunity. He’s down, he thinks without hesitation, so long as you are.

But you don’t say anything.

Maybe you aren’t actually down after all, and that’s why you won’t look at him. Shit, are you embarrassed? Should I say something? Silence falls overtop like a weighted blanket, smothering the two idiots who can’t tell whose turn it is to talk. 

Do you or do you not want this right now?

You mumble something that he can’t catch, so he nudges your side gently with his knuckles to encourage you. Just as nervous, you repeat yourself without looking at him, “Period sex is supposed to help with cramps, I think.”

He thinks he’s read the exact same article you have. More than that, he wishes you’d look over at him and see for yourself how completely unbothered he is by this concept.

“If you think about it, it’s kind of like a natural lubricant,” you add in a voice that’s even smaller than before.

Your shyness really might kill him, so he reaches over to grab your hand and gently pull your arm away from your eyes. It’s the first time you’ve looked at him since you laid down — since you put your self-imposed no-contact order in place — and he feels his stupid heart swell.

For what it’s worth, he feels his dick twitch, too.

You open your mouth to speak again, likely to continue your unnecessary campaigning; Vernon is having none of it. He tugs your wrist just enough to tilt you inward, then he kisses you hard enough to shut you up. A tiny whimper slips out of your lips when he pulls away, and it almost makes him regret his decision to do so. 

But Vernon has a point to make, so that’s precisely what he does: “I don’t need a sales pitch. You will never — ever —  have to convince me to fuck you.” 

Your eyes crinkle at the corners, like this is somehow news to you. It shouldn’t be. He’s told you a thousand times in as many different ways how thoroughly crazy you drive him just by existing so closely to him, but maybe you didn’t take him seriously then.

To emphasize his point, he slips his hand under the hem of your sweatshirt and finds your bare waist with the pad of his thumb. It spirals slowly against your warm skin, making both of you dizzy. Then, sick of the distance, Vernon dips his head down to press a kiss to your temple. 

“Like, ever,” he murmurs, lips following the curve of your jaw. 

Soft, slow kisses trail behind him as he travels down to your lips. Your head tilts further backwards with every single one, providing him with more and more access. 

He states it matter-of-factly because, to him, it is. “I’m down so bad for you that it might be terminal.”

“Oh?” 

You try to laugh but turn to putty when his palm rests fully on the curve of your waist and pulls you flush against him. The surprised gasp you let loose confirms his suspicion: You can feel how serious he is, affirmation throbbing against your abdomen in time with his heartbeat. 

Vernon smirks to himself, relishing your reaction, and bypasses your mouth entirely. A moan escapes from you, soft like an exhale, as his lips move slowly down the length of your neck. Every so often — just to feel you shiver — he flicks the tip of his tongue along the delicate skin he finds there.

“It might be messy…” 

The rest of your needless warning gets lost in a dreamy sigh as he suckles at the spot where your neck meets your shoulder. Shifting even closer, your desperate fingers reach out and cling to his t-shirt.

Vernon licks a stripe over the galaxy blooming on your skin. He hums, hand traveling upwards from your waist, “Don’t care about a mess.”

And he means it. 

Mindful of any soreness, he smooths his hand over your left breast and massages it tenderly, swearing to himself that he’ll throw the whole fucking mattress out if that’s what it comes down to. For you, he’ll race across town on foot to buy another one, and — fuck it — if the store is closed, he might just break in.

You’re growing impatient; your fingers let go of his shirt and tangle themselves in his hair.

“So needy,” he chuckles low in his chest, teasing. “You know, I think you’re lying. I think it is this bat-shit insane documentary that’s driving you wild, and you’re too embarrassed to admit it.”

“Stop,” you whine, dragging out the vowel sound. 

You don’t, though; you throw your left leg over his right thigh and shimmy forward until your cunt grazes his dick. Involuntarily, he groans at the warmth radiating off your core. Every part of you drives him just the slightest bit insane. You seem to know it, he thinks as he watches your pupils dilate in real time.

But he can play games, too, so he rolls his hips forward and grinds against you. He pushes you further, “Don’t get me wrong, baby. I’m not kink-shaming you —”

“Hansol Vernon Chwe!”

Oh, shit. Government name?

“— I’m just a little surprised, I guess.” He sighs with a shrug. “Think you know somebody…”

Your impatience is scribbled all across your scrunched up face. It seeps into your voice when you crash back against the pillows and huff, “Can you please stop fucking with me and start fucking me?”

“Sex-crazed monster, huh?” Leaning over, Vernon punctuates his question with a quick press of his lips to yours.

You whimper, “I’m so serious. I might explode.”

“Then go take care of whatever you need to take care of.” He kisses you again, smiling so fondly that his eyes may even be twinkling. “And I’ll go get a towel.”

You wait until Vernon clears the threshold before launching yourself out of bed at breakneck speed. Stumbling all the while, you race off to the adjoining bathroom and shut the door forcefully behind you. When it clatters against the frame, you finally admit to yourself that you might be a little bit eager.

Maybe.

Opting to keep your baggy, bleach-stained sweatshirt on, you wiggle out of your shorts and — what he refers to as — your crisis diaper. The high-waisted, frumpy, beige panties are utilized exclusively during your period, and to your surprise, they’ve remained spotless. It’s only ever the pretty and expensive pairs that wind up as collateral damage, isn’t it?

As they pool around your ankles, you can’t help but think that Vernon’s nickname for them is pretty spot on. That’s partly why you figured he might need to be talked into this. Unsated arousal aside, you feel as far from sexy as you can possibly get.

You shake your head to clear your thoughts, kick what you’ve discarded into a pile near the hamper, and let your sweatshirt shift down to cover as much of your ass as it’s capable of managing. You grab a square of toilet paper; then, you go to work excavating the wad of cotton that separates you from everything you want in this life. 

It is within the realm of possibility that you’re a little bit eager and a little bit dramatic. 

Perhaps.

After discarding the evidence in the small trash can under the sink, you wash your hands as if you’re about to step into an operating theater and not the bedroom you spend half your life in. When you finally feel sterile, you lift your head and catch your reflection in the mirror. Instantly, you make eye contact with the painful, hormonal pimple on your chin — the one you’ve been waging a retinoid war against for days.

“Bitch,” you mutter, like calling it names will be the one thing that finally gets it to shrink. Of course, your plan doesn’t work, but you feel a little less powerless. That’s good enough, you think. At least, as good as it’s going to get.

Now half-naked and certifiably unobstructed, you tiptoe back to your bedroom much more carefully than you left it. Vernon enters from the opposite doorway at the same time, jumping slightly the second he notices you. You ignore his frightened eyes and glance down at the crisp, white towel he’s clutching.

You open your mouth to suggest anything otherwise, but he beats you to it. His eyebrows shoot up his forehead as his mouth widens outwards, a self-aware rectangle. Otherwise expressionless, he lets go of an atonal, “Aaaaaaah”, that tells you he’s caught on.

He says nothing else before turning around and walking back the way he came. You have to bite down on your lips to keep from cackling.

That one’s mine, you think, still as infatuated as you were at the start. I chose that one.

While he’s gone, you try not to move, not to breathe too heavily. Vernon said he didn’t care about a mess, but when he said it, he was speaking theoretically with his hand on your tit. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d spoken recklessly with your body melting under his touch.

As far as you know, he hasn’t had any experience with this mess in practice. He could wind up finding you about as sexy as you currently feel — to wit: not at all. So, erring on the side of caution, you turn yourself into a statue and wait for the boy and his towel to find you again.

When he comes back, he plants a drive-by kiss on your unsuspecting mouth before skirting right around you. With shocking finesse, he grabs the corners of the — thankfully — black towel, which unfurls in the seconds before he flicks it upwards. It lands perfectly in the center of the bed, flat without needing to be fussed with.

“Wow,” he mutters to himself, taking in his clean work with raised eyebrows.

The impressed look is still on his face when he turns around, but you don’t have time to comment on his feat because he laughs as soon as he sees you.

“Kinda look like Donald Duck with the whole top-on, bottom-off situation.”

I chose this one?

You pout with an indignant gasp, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m not wearing a sailor hat, so…. bad analogy. Rude, even.”

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs as he snakes his arms around your waist and pulls you in close. You stumble a little on your way into him; the jury’s still out about whether it’s his hushed tone or the sudden movement that trips you up.

Between his thumb and index finger, he gently captures your chin. You follow along with his unspoken direction, tilt your face up to meet his. This close, you can see your own reflection in his pupils, black dilating against the warmest shade of brown you’ve ever seen.

Vernon takes a moment of silence as he takes in your features, and he studies them so intently that his eyebrows crinkle on their own. He sighs, sounding so completely serious. “You might get prettier every time I look at you.”

It’s unclear if you’re melting, or gushing; and if it’s the latter, you can’t say which biological process is at fault. Thankfully, the hand at the small of your back keeps your weak knees from buckling when his lips brush over yours.

“Even if you’re dressed like Winnie the Pooh.” 

You feel him smirk even before you hear him laugh at his own joke. Then, you feel his hand slide down to cup your bare cheek, squeezing affectionately. You want to tell him that this analogy is still inaccurate because you’re not wearing a crop-top; but he gently instructs you to ditch the sweatshirt and get on the bed, and your body moves automatically. No questions asked.

Carefully, you crawl up onto the mattress, then you center yourself on the towel. Still on your knees, you tilt your head curiously and ask, “Where do you want me?”

“Anywhere,” he breezes, pulling his shirt off and tossing it onto the dresser nearby. He amends, “Everywhere. All the time, and then some.”

“Better be careful,” you tease. “Talking like that might have consequences. You may never be able to get rid of me.”

His joggers are the next to go. Your sanity follows shortly thereafter, hungry eyes lingering on the imprint of his cock underneath his boxer briefs. You have to clamp your mouth shut to keep from drooling.

Brown eyes sparkling, he steps closer to you, kicking his pants aside as he goes. “Be careful,” he echoes, not a hint of cockiness to be found — just softness. “Saying it like a threat doesn’t make me wish it’s not a promise.”

I choose this one.

Crossing all the way to you, Vernon reaches the bed and climbs up with significantly more grace than you did. The mattress dips under his weight as he kneels right in front of you, mirroring your posture and causing your stomach to flip with anticipation.

You can’t help yourself; you lick your lips and look up at him with half-lidded eyes. “Naked, please. Like, right now.”

“Damn, I gotta do this myself?” Incredulous, he holds his hands up while glancing pointedly down at his underwear, then back at you. 

You arch an eyebrow, unfazed. 

“Depends.” You shrug. “Do you want to keep them? Because I really will rip them off of you.”

He concedes quickly; he always does. Sighing, he shakes his head and tuts, “Sex-crazed monster,” before pushing his briefs down his thighs. His length hangs heavy between you, but you swear you can feel its perfect ache inside you already.

You have a one-track mind, so you don’t hesitate to reach out and wrap your hand around him. A groan crawls up from the bottom of your chest when you feel the weighted warmth of his cock in your palm. You don’t hold that back, either.

“Fuck,” he sighs, head tilting as far backwards as it’ll go. Unexpectedly, he laughs. He doesn’t catch the quizzical look you shoot him, though he explains himself anyway, “Your hands are so fucking cold, but it feels so good.”

Swiping your thumb over his tip, you spread the pre-cum you find there down his shaft and stroke him slowly. He grows harder with every gentle squeeze, every pass of your fist. 

“We’re learning a lot of new shit about each other today.” You lean forward to pepper kisses across his collarbones. The hum of your mouth against his skin when you talk makes his cock twitch in your hand. “You might have a temperature kink and a thing for Winnie the Pooh.”

He snorts, nowhere near serious, “Shut the fuck up.”

“Make me,” you counter smugly, and you do mean it.

Vernon tilts his head forward to stare back at you. You’re already turning into a puddle, but if the look he gives you says anything, it’s that your melting isn’t enough for him. His voice is low and velvet-lined when he responds, “How about I just make you cum instead?”

“That could work, yeah.” You shrug.

He runs the pads of his fingers down each side of your waist to your hips, then back again; and each time he does it, you shiver. Reflexively, your back arches, chest pressing against his.

At this, he smirks, “It could? Maybe?”

“We can workshop it.”

“Or,” Vernon so generously offers, “You can turn around and lay down on your stomach. You know, if that’s sufficient.”

It’s not until you whip around and flop down onto the towel that you realize you never responded with words. Oh well. You figure he gets the point, judging by the quiet laughter you hear as he settles with his knees on either side of your upper thighs.

You don’t know what his next move will be — you don’t care, either, as long as he moves in your direction — so you don’t anticipate his palms flattening against your bare back, applying perfect pressure with his thumbs while he rubs away the soreness at the very base of your torso.

“Oh, shit,” you moan, eyes fluttering shut as the heels of his hands work out the tension in your muscles. “Have you always been good at this?”

You feel his chest brush against your shoulder blades when he hovers over you. Against the nape of your neck, he murmurs, “Nope.”

He kisses down your spine, mouth trailing after his hands as they work their way back down your body.

“Lemme guess — you read an article? Studied up?”

You get a snicker, then an affirmative hum, then another kiss. This time, it’s at the curve of your spine, just above your ass. Seconds later, he’s kneading the doughy flesh of your cheeks until your whole fucking body tingles.

That’s when it hits you:

Under normal circumstances, Vernon would be face-first in your pussy by now. Devouring you in earnest, like he’s starving. He can’t do that now — and you don’t blame him — so he’s making up for what you both view as a loss.

God, you want him.

One hand disappears from you, but you don’t have to guess where it went. You can hear the barely-there hiss of breath through his teeth when he takes his cock in that hand; as well as the very faint shift of his palm while he pumps himself.

“You’re gonna have to navigate, baby. I dunno how sensitive you are like this, what’s too much — any of that, so you need to tell me how you want me to move.”

Suddenly dizzy over how badly you need him, all you can muster is a nod. Vernon must want a verbal acknowledgment, though, because he leans back over you with one hand bearing his weight beside your head.

He kisses your shoulder and urges you, “Please say so if you need to stop or switch it up. Don’t wanna hurt you, sweetheart.”

“I will,” you breathe. “But I can’t even articulate how much I need you inside of me right now, so please — pretty please — fuck me.”

The tip of his nose bumps your temple affectionately. Right beside your ear, he teases, “With a cherry on top?” And it vibrates down your whole goddamn spine.

“Vernon!” You whine, burying your face in the comforter. It’s muffled, but you warn him nonetheless, “Don’t make me come back there.”

“Aish. Calm down, sex monster.”

The instinct to twist around and glare at him over your shoulder is strong, but every feral urge you feel is stronger. So, when he tells you to spread yourself open for him and tilt your hips back, you do so without even a hint of complaining.

With the crown of his cock slipping through your folds, inching towards your entrance, you hear him curse under his breath. Suddenly self-conscious, you finally crane your neck to the side and glance back at him. 

“We don’t have to,” you whisper. “If it’s gross and you don’t want to anymore, I get it —”

He balks at your suggestion without letting so much as a beat pass. “None of that, sweetheart; no spiraling. I’m just trying to figure out the logistics of, like… how to survive how good this already feels.”

Struck dumb, all you can muster is a peep, “Oh?”

“Shit, yeah.” His response comes in a low groan. “Can you take a deep breath for me?”

It’s a good call on his part, a suggestion you’re glad to have taken, because the pressure of him entering you is intense enough to knock the wind out of you. Empty lungs likely would’ve led to your untimely demise.

You whimper, already overwhelmed with the combination of pain and pleasure; the best kind of ache. The little, breathy moans must freak him out, however, because his fingertips caress your waist as he checks in: “This okay?”

Your limp arm lifts off the mattress, which you’ve melted fully into, and you form a circle with your index finger and thumb to indicate that you’re okay. The light is bright fucking green; you’ve just maxed out your capacity for speech.

Vernon continues his slow thrust forward, giving you ample time to adjust to his size.

“Oh my god,” he grunts, “This is — shit, I can’t believe we haven’t done this before. If I knew how good you’d feel like this, I wouldn’t have waited around for you to ask me.”

That hits like a truck.

He was waiting on you. 

You spent months convincing yourself that he’d need to be convinced, and chickening out before you could raise the idea. Months, and months, and months, of craving him during your werewolf transformation; wasting away over a shitty assumption that Vernon is anything like the people you’ve been with before. 

Christ. 

His credit for putting up with you is long overdue.

Too tongue-tied to speak any of that out loud, you settle for a summary that you hope conveys the message: “I love you so fucking much.”

Mindful of how deep it will push him into your cunt, he leans down over you carefully. Weight balanced on his knees and forearms, he envelopes you in his body heat, trails kisses across your shoulder, and echoes your words back at you between each one.

“Is this too much?” He whispers, rolling his hips slowly.

You feel him everywhere, with every drag of his cock along your walls; and you can’t tell where that throbbing sensation is coming from, him or you. 

You shake your head and sigh, “‘s perfect. You’re perfect.”

Like he knows it’ll unravel you, his large hand comes to rest over the back of yours. His fingers slip through the spaces between and squeeze you much more gently than the vice grip you hold on the bedding below you. He keeps holding you — just like this — through every movement.

The sensation of being this surrounded, this loved, this whole crashes over you like a wave and knocks you off balance.

“I’m so close,” you pant, voice as ragged as your breathing. There’s nothing that he isn’t already giving you with every deep, deliberate thrust into your heat; but you beg nonetheless, “Please, please, please —”

His speed doesn’t increase, but the intensity does. The smack of his hips colliding with your ass does, too, and you feel it reverberating in your bones. Buried as far inside of you as he can be, cock tip kissing your cervix with every high tide, length rolling across your g-spot with every low.

You cum so hard — so completely, invoking every single muscle you have — that you forget how to breathe. With a choked-out gasp, you squeeze your eyes shut and let your orgasm devastate you. 

“Fuck!”

Vernon gets caught up in the current, too, grinding desperately against you until he’s swept up in your wake. You feel him twitch inside you as his release floods, leaving you so lost in his warmth that you feel boneless underneath him.

His face winds up hidden in the crook of your neck, somewhere amidst the baby hairs that cling to the sheen of your sweat. You feel his lips fluttering against your skin when he laughs, “Oh…my god.”

“Mmphf.” You nod weakly in agreement. Beyond blissed, your body still tingles too much to move.

Slurring, you add, “‘s good. ‘s really…”

The rest of that thought dissolves into something between a moan and a yawn.

Just as tired, Vernon pats your ass cheek affectionately and mumbles, “Well said. No notes.”

You tilt your head far enough to free your face from the sheets. When you do, you find your boyfriend fighting a losing battle to keep his eyes open. In the rare seconds he can, he looks back at you in a daze that seems even more adoring than it does fuck-drunk.

“I think I need to hibernate now,” you announce. “Think you just fucked me so well that I need to take a sabbatical.”

He counter-offers, “Shower first, then sabbatical?”

You wiggle so that you can pull your joint hands to your mouth. You can’t kiss him properly while he’s laid out on top of you, but you can press your lips to the back of his hand and hope he feels how much of you that you pour into it.

“Okay, but, like…. who’s carrying who?”

[lalunanymph]

𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆, 𝐈𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 (part 2)

✧˚ · . three minutes past his 27th birthday, the mass serial killer known as 'dawnbreaker' finally meets the girl from his dreams

✧˚ · . part 1

✧˚ · . warnings:- dawnbreaker!zayne x fem!reader, HEAVY ANGST, mentions of food, mentions of illnesses, mentions of injuries, spoilers for zayne's lore, alternative timeline, mentions of babies, mentions of pregnancies, pet names (darling, my love, beloved), nightmares, mentions of smoking, MCD, brief mentions of su_cide, nightmares, a not so happy happy ending, minors and ageless blogs do not interact. i am not responsible for your media consumption

✧˚ · . dawn says: i had to split the last part into 2 because it was literally so long tumblr said nope sorry girlie this ain't making it into the tags lol

✧˚ · . playlist

“You may know me as Zayne, but I go by another name…” 

He exhales it into the suffocating silence:

“Dawnbreaker.”

Your eyes bulge wider, mouth falling open in horror. Of course, you were aware of that name; you knew who he was.

Serina Callaghan, daughter of Detective Callaghan, had told you numerous stories about the elusive serial killer. How no one could find a trace of him. 

Yet, here he was—standing in your kitchen with remorse etched onto every pore of his body.

You feel a sick sense of nausea bubbling from your stomach to your chest, threatening to spill onto the floor.

You had taken him in… made love to him… held him in your arms every night… when he had killed all those innocent people…

As if reading your mind, Zayne shakes his head. “These people—the ones who had passed on—I never killed them for fun. They wanted me to end their lives because they were overtaken by the disease… by the Abomination.”

His words shock you out of your reverie; tames your urge to grab the phone and call the police. For a split second, you wonder what Zayne would do to you if you were to lunge for the cordless phone; would he escape?

Kill you?

Forcing yourself to be far braver than you felt, you clutched your trembling hands together, taking in a deep breath.

“So, m-mercy killing,” your voice shook, but your deduction was spot on.

“Yes.” He shrugs off his coat, and you eye the wad of cash he takes out and sets on your kitchen counter. “I will never kill someone unless they pay me to do it. I do not like taking lives, but as one of the last Evolvers in this generation… it is my duty to help.”

Evolver? 

The layers of truth were starting to make your head spin. You could barely unravel your spiraling thoughts.

“I thought Evolvers were extinct.”

Zayne shakes his head. “We are rare, but we are still here.”

As if to solidify the truth, he holds out his hand. On his palm, the air condenses, and the temperature in the kitchen drops a few celsius. You watch, gobsmack in silence, as bits of snow appear, coalescing right into a singular teardrop-shaped crystal that unfurls into a shimmery flower with five petals.

“Ice,” Zayne explains, and slowly approaches you. He gently places the flower on the table, right where you were standing. 

He backs away, giving you some space to work out your emotions. You stare at the jasmine flower, in silent contemplation. 

It’s intricate and beautiful, but ice in itself was deadly. 

While it looked harmless falling from the sky, it had the power to bury people under its weight; causing hypothermia, avalanches, and skin burns. 

You glance at Zayne, wondering which category he belonged in—if he was a chilly breeze or an entire fucking snowstorm.

His weary gaze spoke volumes, though he let you reach your own conclusions. Zayne was giving you a choice: one many people in your life didn’t.

Stay or leave. 

Be with him or turn him away.

Two forks of an outcome; you had no idea what to choose. 

Your silence stretches on and Zayne hangs his head forward. He’s about to turn and leave, when you slowly reach out to touch the jasmine flower. It’s cool on your palm, tougher and durable. Not wet and cold like real ice.

“Crystals?” 

Your voice comes off low, hoarse. There’s a dazed look in your eyes, one which tugs on the sorrow lining his soul.

He hates to do this to you; hates how conflicted you look.

“This is what you use to kill people, don’t you?” 

Astute, again. Zayne would honestly be impressed by your wits if he wasn’t painfully aware of how you were holding him accountable for his horrendous mistakes.

“I know you think awfully of me—”

“Why kill them?” You’re breathing heavily now, anguish coating your every word. “What if you could save them, instead? Can’t that be done?”

Zayne shakes his head, unable to meet your eye. “I have spoken to a few scientists about this… but many of them were taken by the Abomination. It’s caused by constant exposure to Protocores and is incurable. The only thing I can do is make sure those infected have a swift end.”

Your silence strikes him heavier than a hit.

“Infected?" you murmur hoarsely. "Constant exposure? A swift end? Do you even hear yourself?” 

You simmer and bubble, cheeks flushed with anger. “Zayne—these are human beings! People with love, dreams and hopes. People with families. They’re not jobs or ledgers. They deserve a bit more dignity than that.”

Suddenly, the despair in his eyes turns ice cold. You’re hopeless to stop him from approaching you, and scramble back until you bump the kitchen counter, eyes wide and fearful. But, he stops just shy of your feet touching, an unfathomable expression on his face.

“I would never hurt anyone. Ever. You of all people should know. Didn’t you say you weren’t afraid of me the first time we were intimate together?” He fights hard to not let his tone turn accusatory, eyes shining with frustration and unshed tears. “What made you change your mind this time?” 

“You killed them… you killed them all,” you’re close to tears, trembling from head to toe. Zayne looks like he’s about to cry as well, begging you to see beyond the murderer you thought he was; to embrace him and hold him and share his burden, even though he knows it’s unfair to put all this weight on you.

He was so tired of pretending that everything was alright. And deep down, he knew you were, too.

This world wasn’t kind to anyone, and he only had you to soothe the ache—to be the light he looks forward to every morning. 

Please, don’t go, he wants to scream, hands balled into fists at his side. Don’t leave me alone… you are the only one I have left. 

A sob bubbles past your lips, and you wrap your arms around you; willing yourself to stand upright and be brave.

“Do you regret it?” your voice is thick, and he longs to staunch the tears falling from your cheeks, but the words are lost in his throat.

“All of them? Did you ever regret killing them?”

Zayne tightens his fists, clenching down hard enough for his nails to leave pale moon crescent indents on his palms. 

“There was a boy I had to kill once. Georgie. He would’ve been thirteen…” he closes his eyes, hoping to find some strength to push on. Zayne was so incredibly tired from constantly fighting.

“We celebrated his birthday at a cafe, too. He loved macarons. And chocolate. But, his mother gave him the disease. I had to be the one to put him down. I still think about him every time I hear ‘happy birthday’.”

His words are simple, but they make you bleed, staring at the floor with tears blurring your vision.

You fall into a thick disquiet, and so did he. Zayne stands upright, like a prisoner about to be read his final judgment; willing you to forgive him—god he hopes you find it in your heart to forgive him.

He wasn’t a good man—a fiend of the night people were afraid of. But, Zayne would never forgive himself if you didn’t take him back. He would dig his knees to the ground, beg for you to change your mind.

In the throes of his own self-loathing, he almost flinches when he feels your arms wrap around his torso. Your head thumps onto his chest, and he realizes you’re fully crying now. He embraces you fiercely, quickly. Holding you fast to him as if you both could fuse together and become one.

You leave tear stains across his blood speckled shirt, fingers digging into his shoulders as violent sobs rip through you. 

“Do you hate me?” He forces himself to ask through numb lips. Zayne doesn’t know what answer you would give—if you would even reply to him.

But, you shake your head, hiccuping his name. 

“Are you afraid?” 

There’s a slight pause, and you shudder, shaking your head again. 

Zayne nuzzles your hair, rocking you from side to side like he was comforting a hysterical child. 

Your sobs eventually stop and you’re both swaying in each other’s arms now. 

“I’m sorry,” you murmur. Zayne hums in confusion, and you continue. “I’m sorry for being so quick to misjudge you. You’re not the bad guy, Zayne. You were forced into this horror… our world is so fucked up and you were just trying to make it better any way you could.”

You peel your face from his chest, eyes red-rimmed and nose runny. He gently dabs at your tears and snot with the sleeve of his dress shirt, careful not to press down too hard.

He doesn’t say anything else, and you both let the silence scatter and fall where it may. Somehow, your fingers end up in his hair and he’s nudging you back against the hard counter.

Zayne lifts you up effortlessly, parting your legs wide to slot himself in between them, hands gently squeezing and groping your thighs and hips.

The need to reclaim you claws through him, searing his every coherent thought with nothing but the cry of your name.

He looks down the line of his nose, tilting your face up to the light so you meet his eyes. What he finds in your expression makes his heart ache in misery—your sadness and despondency hitting him right in the soul.

“Would you rather I stop killing people?”

It’s a loaded question, one that has your mind reeling. You eye the blood on his shirt, now soaked through with your tears. 

“Only if you promise me you will never find pleasure from it.”

He shakes his head, firm in his conviction. “Never. Not once, or ever. I can promise you that.”

“Do the police know?” 

A good question, indeed. Zayne nods, catching you off guard.

“Callaghan’s colleague. Detective Ivan. He was the one who scrubbed my records clean. He knows not to seek me out because… it means he’s next.”

Zayne lets the words hang in the air. He hears your mind whirring, thoughts piecing together.

“Detective Ivan found out and agrees with what you’re doing? So, the police are turning a blind eye?”

“Yes,” Zayne murmurs, trying hard not to fall into the gravity of your lips; forcing attention to this distressing topic. 

“He was with me when Georgie died. He saw the extent of how the Abomination takes over people. Dark as it is, he agrees with my ethics and now, I only focus on people who come to me through word of mouth. Rarely do I ever hunt them anymore. They choose this end because it is far less painful than the alternative.”

“Which is?” 

He steadies himself with a short breath. “Living as a rotting corpse with no control over your body.”

You suck in a sharp inhale. Your smaller fingers fist the front of his shirt, your mind a million miles away.

Zayne nudges your face towards him, fingers cold on your skin. He swallows hard, and you follow the motion—his throat moving, Adam’s apple bobbing. Impulsively, you lean forward, catching him off guard with a chaste kiss.

He musters a low groan when you begin to tug on his hair; sliding your tongue into his mouth.

Frantically, he grips your thighs, hips—fisting your hair to pull you closer. 

Hot breaths clash. Moans echo around the kitchen. You lean back, far enough for silvery strands of spit to connect your lips to his. 

Zayne devours the dark look in your eyes, and he thinks loving someone shouldn’t hurt this much, but for you, he would go through the agony all over again.

The tormented man wants to swallow you down, break his rib cage open and tuck you safely close to his heart. Your sighs and gasps fuel him to be better—change his ways so he could have you in his life forever. 

“Zayne,” you sigh, all syrupy and love-struck. You play with his shirt’s button, and before he can stop you, you start to unravel all of him.

“—No." He grabs your hands in a panic, stopping your intentions in loosening his buttons. Those scars on his skin flash behind his mind, marking him as a lost soul and unworthy of you.

You shake your head, determination lining your pretty features. “Don’t hide from me anymore, Zayne. I want to see you—all of you.”

He’s helpless to stop you from unfastening his armor, greeting those silvery scars with a soft gasp.

There was a reason he never fucked you with the lights on—those lacerations on his body caused him shame.

But, you don't recoil out of disgust like he expects. Instead, your pretty fingers topped with pink nail polish trace the milky white divots; those signs of pain and abuse he had to endure for his entire life.

Peering at you pass thick lashes, he sees you lick your lips, the desire on your face as clear as day.

“You’re so beautiful, Zayne.”

Not giving him a chance to speak, you dip your head forward, pressing your soft lips reverently to the scar just above his heart.

Zayne feels like something seismic has just happened—an internal earthquake which rocks him apart. 

Outwardly, the world doesn’t change; the flickering light he keeps on forgetting to fix over your sink still casts intermittent shadows across your face; the outside world whirs with sounds of robots and automated deliveries.

Nothing has changed and yet, everything inside of him has fundamentally been shifted.

A strangled sound emanates from his chest, and you look up quickly, afraid that you might have hurt him.

But, Zayne’s not in pain—not in the least. His green eyes shine verdantly like a forest after a storm, locked right onto your flushed face. You think that out of all the realities in this messed up world, you might find the real meaning of adoration in them.

He cups your face, smoothes your cheeks with his thumbs. 

“I love you.”

It’s the first time he’s ever said this out loud. His breathing stutters, caught off guard. And you’re staring at him, too. All wide eyes, and parted, perfect lips. 

Slowly, you defrost, bringing your hands up to your face, pressing your palms to the back of his hands. 

The silence is deafening—a pin could roll off the counter and fall to the ground, sounding like an explosion. Zayne swears he can hear the blood rushing in his ears. 

“I love you, too.”

Your voice is soft. Fragile. It echoes with shades of fear, but never uncertainty. 

For if there was one thing you were certain in this life, it was that you were completely, sincerely and stupidly in love with Zayne.

His eyes ripple close, and so do yours. Foreheads gently touch, breaths shared as one. The two of you stay like this for a long time, savoring this quiet, beautiful connection you had both created in such a short time.

Zayne has never known love in this lifetime. 

Slowly—surely—he was starting to warm himself up to the idea; falling deeper and deeper into a head on collision with your devotion. 

None of it scares him; how could it when it’s the stuff of his dreams? Of a forever stretching into the tiniest moments: languid mornings over shitty cereal and sappy medical romcoms on your beaten up couch and nights spent warming your sheets.

He can’t fight it; this feeling of always wanting to be by your side.

And so, he openly and fervently welcomes it.

“You’re glowing.”

Serina’s offhand comment brings you up short, and you fight back the creeping flush threatening to overtake your cheeks; preferring to bite your lower lip and turn you face away so she couldn’t see your growing smile.

Her silence isn’t judgmental this time. Rather, it’s tainted with a cynical curiosity.

“I guess Zayne really does make you happy.”

You hum, going back to your supplies of flour and sheets of freshly roasted nuts.

“He’s staying with me now.”

“Oh.”

You don’t turn to face; don’t have to because you know she’s making a face behind your back. 

“Is he coming to pick you up later?”

You think about him astride his motorcycle, dark locks whipping in the wind; fitted black trench coat, pristine suit and tie clinging right onto his frame and feel your stomach twist with nerves.

“Mhm hmm.”

Serina pauses, and you could tell she was struggling with something to say. 

“I’m happy for you.” 

Whatever it was you expected to drop from her mouth, it wasn’t this.

You turn around, and the incredulity must've been transparent on your face because she bursts into laughter, doubling forward to cackle with glee.

“Your face! You look like I just came out and told you I sold children’s blood by the bag.” 

She snorts and straightens, wheezing slightly. “I am happy for you, you idiot. I’m glad you’re not fish food yet and you’re glowing and you have a stupid amount of hickeys you try to cover up every day with that shitty concealer I got for you five fucking years ago. Point is: I’m happy for you.”

Serina emphasizes the last word, and you shyly lace your fingers together, feeling both sheepish and incredibly exasperated.

“I… Thank you.” Not knowing what else to say, you flash her a small smile, one which she returns instantly.

Scoffing, she runs a hand through her platinum blonde hair and tosses the rag she was holding across her shoulder, gesturing to the door.

“Go. I can handle closing time. I know you’re dying to see Zayne tonight.”

You perk up, in disbelief. “Serina—” 

“Leave those nuts in the fridge. They should be easy to chop up and temper with our chocolate bark tomorrow.” Hustling you out of the kitchen, you squeal at the feel of her cold fingers prodding your lower back. “Now, go. Call Zayne up and let him take you home. I’m sick of your love struck puppy expression.”

Despite yourself, you laugh, and unlace your apron. “Are you sure you can handle it? I can stay with you and help.”

Serina makes a face, though you could tell she was joking. “Ugh, and have to be around you for another hour while you pine for and miss him? Yuck. Get out of here.”

She jokingly swats you with her towel and you get her message loud and clear. 

“Okay, okay. Goodnight, you ass.”

“Goodnight, simp,” she drawls, and you scoff, rolling your eyes while you pick up your phone to call Zayne. 

Serina waits together with you, smoking a cigarette and filling you in on the latest online celebrity gossip. 

When Zayne arrives, sharp on time and sharply dressed as ever, she shoots you a smirk and a wave. You wave back, and slip on the helmet he passes you, stradling behind him to speed off into the night.

They look happy together. 

The young woman chuckles tiredly, scrubbing a hand down her face. She trudges back into the cafe, cleans up the remaining plates and cups, humming under her breath. As she fills up the dishwasher for its final load of the night, she hears the front doorbell tinkling.

Frowning, Serina wonders if you had left something behind when the sound of heavy footfalls resounds in the quiet space.

Thinking nothing of it, she straightens, a scowl on her blush rose lips.

“We’re closed,” she calls out in her most polite voice.

The presence in the dining space does not remove itself. From her stance inside the kitchen, she could just make out the silhouette of a tall man partially hidden behind the pillar separating the main hall from where she stood. 

Fuelled with distaste and annoyance, she rounds the corner, fully prepared to fight off this stranger and tell them to piss off.

“I said, we’re closed—”

Her words are cut off when she notices a faint glow of purple surrounding him. His eyes which were once blue were now soulless and drained, clapping onto hers, their pupils widening slightly.

Strange bulges appear on his body, and in the limited light, they seem to move up and down his arms. 

Crawling like they were filled with life.

She takes a step back, a sharp scream piercing the air.

The man falls back, putting his hands over his ears. He yanks on his graying hair, teeth bared and spittle splattering onto the ground.

“Shut… up…” 

His moans rattle and thump, filled with pain. He looks at her, and in the briefest of moments when they make eye contact, Serina could plainly see the anguish in them—the desperation for someone to end it all.

“Please,” his hoarse voice makes her skin crawl, her hairs stand on end. “Someone… Help me… kill me…”

The stranger falls to his knees, back arching like a cat poised to throw up all over the polished, hardwood floors. 

He heaves, and spittle drips from between his clenched teeth. Serina can’t move; completely frozen to one spot, locked on the sight of his pale hands curling into claws.

Those choked sounds he made would haunt her for the rest of her life. But, nothing could prepare her for when he lifts his head and the bulge under his right eye bursts, revealing a dark, tentacle appendage dangling from his cheek.

“Please,” he begs her with what was left of his humanity.

“You have to help me… you have to save me.”

Zayne’s arms wrap around your waist as you’re stirring a pot, his hum of adoration and contentment rumbling against your back.

“What?” you tease, picking up some bay leaves and tossing them into the fresh marinara sauce. “Are you excited to make me cook even after I slaved for a whole night in the kitchen?”

He clicks his tongue, kisses you right on your pulse point.

“Feisty. And here I was, about to fully offer you my assistance.”

He drops his arms, and you turn back to him with a pout. 

“I was joking,” you backtrack, fluttering your lashes. “I could really use your help,” and add, “Please,” when the beginning of a smirk plays on the corners of his mouth. 

“Alright,” he hums, grabbing a handful of sweet basil and a knife, chopping them up finely to be added to the pasta sauce once it was done.

It was comfortable working alongside him. Zayne didn’t need endless chatter to fill in the void, and neither did you feel obliged to talk his ear off. 

You start to hum, and he tunes in, admiring the rise and fall of the melody; how clear and bright your voice is.

“Would you like to put on some music?” He suggests, pointing to the old radio sitting atop your kitchen counter, a fine layer of dust on its smeared screen. 

You take him up on the offer, nodding. 

Zayne pushes a button and the last recording you had on plays in the room. A voice from long ago vibrates with nostalgia, reminding him of days passed and a comfort only found from warm sheets on a Sunday morning.

“Why don’t you ever let me into your home?” 

He pauses, glancing at you. “Pardon?” 

You exhale a laugh, and a teasing quality takes over your smile. “Your apartment. How come I never see it? Do you have piles of bodies you’re hiding from me?” 

A slender, calloused finger materializes by your hip, poking into your side. You flinch and giggle, locking eyes with his amused expression. 

“Careful. Do not go around unnecessarily exposing me.”

“So, you do have them under your floorboards.” 

He decides to challenge you back. “Are you afraid?” 

You scoff, picking up a wooden ladle to stir the sauce. “You must be mistaken, Zayne. For it isn’t me who should be afraid of you, but you of me.”

He resists the urge to pick you up and spin you in his arms for being so damn adorable. Reigning in the cute aggression, he titters a laugh. “And why is that so?” 

“Because,” you turn to him, your teasing smile growing wider. “I know things you don’t know. I have a certain set of skills not many have knowledge of and I can and will use them to my advantage.”

“Oh, really?” He drawls, raising a brow. The expression draws his handsome face into a comical curiosity; it nearly breaks your resolve not to laugh. “Enlighten me on these skills.” 

You clear your throat, setting the ladle down. “For example, I can bet you that I am a better dancer.”

Unexpectedly, he sweeps you into his arms, grabbing your left hand with his right and encircling the other one around your waist; you had no choice but to place your other hand on his broad shoulder to keep your balance. 

He was close—much too close—and it makes your face burn hot, your mischievous quips dying in the back of your throat. 

Zayne holds you fast, sure—swaying you from side to side as you both slowly circle the room, one gliding footstep at a time. He makes sure to lead you properly, careful to keep you two in an orbit far from mishap. 

You feel safe enough to lay your head on his chest, hearing his heartbeat and breathing alongside the sweet, romantic music. Eyes falling close, you lavish in this sense of serenity and comfort you had never felt in your life.

Zayne, too, takes a second to savor this moment. He gazes at the peace suffusing across your face and feels his heart growing lighter.

I want this for the rest of my life.

The thought jolts him from his reverie; scares him enough to convince himself to take it back.

But, as much as Zayne wants to delude himself, he can’t run away from the truth.

He wants this for as long he breathes on this godforsaken planet. As long as the seas ebb and flow and the sun turns on its fucking axis—he wants you. Zayne doesn’t care what others might think; how they would make a mockery of your connection to him. He would kill anyone who tries to get between you both. 

And he hopes that deep down, you feel the same way, too.

He wakes up in the early morning to his phone vibrating on the dresser.

Zayne groans, feels a sinking weight on his chest and realizes you had fallen asleep sprawled on top of him.

His instincts override his fuzzy mind to not wake you up, nimbly grabbing his phone and answering the call without looking at the screen.

“Zayne.”

The voice on the other end jerks him fully awake, and he resists the urge to jolt upright, remembering you were still fast asleep.

“One second,” he murmurs into the receiver. The other man hums.

Zayne puts the phone back down, gently scooping you up and rolling you to the side, tucking the covers under your chin.

He sits upright, turning to plant his feet to the ground and picks the phone back up. 

“Detective Ivan?” 

“We have an emergency.” 

Zayne stops scratching his bare chest, tired green eyes sharpening from the urgency in the older man’s tone. Ivan would never call him unless it was serious and usually there was only one reason why he would. 

“An Abomination has attacked a young woman in a cafe. Nightstar Cafe. One of those oldy diners that open till early morning.”

Ivan doesn’t hear Zayne’s sharp breath, nor is he there to see how terrified the younger man looks, turning his gaze to the sleeping woman next to him.

“A young woman? Was she blonde?”

He can feel Ivan frowning on the other end. “How did you know?” 

Zayne concocts a lie. “I saw the cafe in passing. Is it serious?”

“We have no visual on the Abomination and neither on the girl. We’re stuck and we need your help. Only you can track her down.”

Zayne racks his brain, thinking of his apartment that’s almost an hour away from yours. If he could get to his tracking systems quickly, maybe there was still time to solve this case…

“Alright,” he made up his mind. “Give me half an hour to find her. I’ll alert you to her whereabouts.”

Ivan breathes a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Zayne.”

“Do not mention it.” He clicks off the call, turns to find you still fully asleep. As quietly as he could, he stands and gets ready, dressing in a nondescript black t-shirt and a pair of dark jeans, bundling up with his trench coat to keep the autumn chill at bay.

Just as he’s about to grab his bike keys, he hears you stirring.

“Zayne?” 

Your voice is fringed with exhausted curiosity, bleary eyes blinking and trying to pin onto his figure in the total darkness.

He’s next to you in a heartbeat, bending down to place a kiss on your forehead. “I have an emergency. You stay here and rest, alright? Wait for me. I’ll be home for you soon.”

You could only nod obediently, watching him rush out of the room; the front door closing behind him with a loud thud. 

Wondering what could’ve spurred Zayne into such a frantic mode, you close your eyes, about to drift off when you hear a knock. 

Woozily, you get to your feet, stifling a yawn. The hem of his too big shirt brushes your thighs, and you rub your eyes, frowning when the knocks get more insistent.

“Coming,” you call out, and trudge to the front door. 

Peering through the security monitor, your heart skips a beat when you notice your best friend on the other side, her expression wild; eyes darting down the hallway and jaw strained.

“Serina? What’re you doing here at this time?” 

Your voice carries out to the front, and you hear her over the security intercom.

“Babe, please. Let me in. Something terrible has happened. I can’t explain it, but I need your help.”

She sounds afraid and terrified, and your heart squeezes in fear when she glances down the hallway again, as if she were being chased.

Without another thought, you unlatch the door for her, and she comes barreling in, sinking to the floor the second you shut the door closed.

You fall to your knees next to her, reaching out to touch her shoulder. Squinting in the darkness, you faintly make out splotches of darkness on her tank top, and it’s not until you switch on the lights that you notice it’s blood. 

“Serina!” you gasp, and in the brightness, her irises have completely pin pricked, only a thin ring of blue surrounding them. 

She grabs your hands, tugs you closer to her face. Your heart is about to fly out of your chest, and you fight back, trying to break free from her grasp.

But, she’s fueled by fear and something else—something which ramps her paranoia up to concerning levels.

“Man. Wanderer. He hurt me. Tried to kill me. I ran… I ran here. I had no idea where else to go.”

Her words slur and clash in a cacophony of confusion. You can’t make heads or tails what she’s trying to say, but you attempt to piece it together for her sake.

“Hold on, hold on. Breathe.” You grab her thin shoulders in your white-knuckled grip, trying to shake the fear out of her. There was no time for confusion; you needed to know exactly what happened to her. “Start from the beginning, please. I can’t help you if I don’t understand.”

Without warning, tears fill her eyes and she pitches her head forward, breaking into silent sobs. 

Your arms automatically wrap around her, pulling her into your embrace. She cries, screams and wails, breaking down in total fear.

“It’s okay,” you soothe her, like how you had soothed Zayne many, many times in the aftermath of his nightmares. “You’re fine. You’ll be safe.”

She shakes her head, hiccuping incoherently. “He hurt me. He cut me with his teeth. I—” A full body shudder goes through her. 

Alarmed, you rock back on your haunches, eyes wide and locked on her pinched expression. “Serina, are you okay—?” 

The words die on the tip of your tongue, and you instinctively stand up, backing towards the wall when you notice her eyes starting to glow a bright purple.

“Serina—!”

She curls onto the ground, crying out in pain. Her body starts to writhe, and a gruesome crunching sound cracks through the air.

Too late to escape, you watch in horror as her body convulses, the bones of her spine breaking and twisting. Her skin turns a revolting shade of purple, and spittle froths down her mouth.

Before the petrifying purple light entirely consumes her body, she manages to hoarsely cry out two words which shakes you to your core: 

“Save me.”

SOBS im sorry to have to cut it here but it was too long </3 last part coming soon !! reblogs and feedback are sincerely appreciated 🩷

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