#so late... finally getting thru asks sorry

[jordiemeow]

Letting dodge let off steam after a long day working at the diner (i feel like such a freak for requesting this but…🤭)

!!!!!! Hell yeah we r freaks in this together. him coming over to see u bc he's so tense after dealing w fuckers like ray all day.... raghhhh

warnings: general smut (p in v), brief mention of using a belt as a restraint, no reader orgasm (tsk tsk), jo thirsting over dodge for 1.5k words

Dodge is always a bit of a whiny baby after a bad shift. Funny, because to everyone else he seems to be so detached—but with you, he can be himself. Sometimes that's more of a curse than a blessing.

That's what you're expecting when his truck pulls up outside your house. Bouncing down the hall to greet him by the door, prepared to feign sympathy and bat your pretty lashes at him until he feels better. You've got the place to yourself tonight, thankfully. No parents. Ah, one look at his sullen face is enough to tell you he's had a rough day. But instead of the long rant you'd mentally prepared yourself for as soon as you caught a glimpse of his truck outside your window, he's kicking the door shut and backing you down the hall.

"Dodge, your shoes—" You start to protest, but he silences you with a kiss. Well, hard to argue when his tongue is already in your mouth and his big, firm hands are squeezing your hips. Thank god you're home alone.

“Doesn’t matter. Need you.”

He breaks free to shrug his jacket off his shoulders. It gets discarded onto the floor of your hallway, and his shirt is next to go as the pair of you stumble blindly through the threshold of your kitchen. He hardly gives you time to ogle the muscled expanse of his chest before his mouth is descending on yours again. There's no method to it, just intent. The intent to devour you, apparently.

Your back hits the marble counter behind you. You cry out at the sharp pain, but the sound is swallowed right into his mouth. He'll have you crying out for other reasons in the next few minutes, no doubt. A heartbeat later and his hands are beneath your own shirt. No time to be wasted, clearly, as he gropes your breasts and groans in satisfaction at the feeling of flesh beneath his palms. No bra? Oh, this is exactly what he needed.

"Perfect fuckin' tits," he mumbles, the words slurred into your mouth. He presses you harder into the surface; the pain is hardly a dull throb when you're so aroused.

"What's gotten into you?" You ask breathlessly as one of his hand snakes down beneath your waistband. Fingers find both your clit and a nipple simultaneously, and you jerk forward a little with a pitiful whine. Not that you can move much, mind you, when you're sandwiched between the kitchen counter and the hard planes of his body.

He rolls the sensitive bud between his fingers, relishing in the way your back arches towards him as your nipple hardens. "Just a bunch of assholes at the diner."

Awfully vague explanation. Why are men so bad at speaking about anything? You have to concentrate hard to get out a breathless follow-up question. "Yeah? What'd they do?"

"You gonna grill me or just let me fuck you?"

Oh, that really does it for you. You clench around nothing as his fingers tease your clit and nipple. You've never seen him like this, but you're far from complaining.

"Well, I just—" A finger slipping into you cuts you off with a gasp at the sudden intrusion.

"Rhetorical question. You're gonna let me fuck you."

All you can do is nod wordlessly as another finger slides in to work you open. He's back to swallowing up your pathetic little moans again, crooking his fingers against that sweet spot inside you that has your eyes rolling back.

"Wet enough," you hear him mutter to himself, half-spoken against your lips.

"Wha—?" His fingers withdraw and his hand leaves your shirt, and then you're being manhandled around. Panties and underwear yanked down to your knees, cheek pressed into the cold, smooth marble of the counter. He's too impatient to strip you properly.

You can hear the sound of his belt buckle being undone, followed by the unmistakeable zip of his jeans. "Not... not here, Dodge."

He scoffs behind you. Not here? You're home alone, for Christ's sake. And he's fucked you in places much worse than bent over your dad's kitchen counter.

"Don't make me use this," he warns, the cool metal of the buckle pressing against your lower back where your shirt has ridden up. He's joking, you think. Not that you'd be opposed to it in the first place—whether he means wrapped around your wrists or to redden one of your pretty little ass cheeks, you aren't sure. Both?

Another wordless nod. He can't tell whether that's consent for the belt to be used or you just agreeing that you'll stop your whining, but he's too impatient; you can play around another time. Right now he just needs his cock stuffed inside you and his exhausting shift to the back of his mind.

The belt clatters to the floor, and his jeans and boxers drop to his knees. Normally he eases himself into you—he's such a tease when he wants to be, making you beg for each inch and goading you with little comments of "you sure you can take it all?" But now, he presses into you with one snap of his hips.

It punches all of the air out of your lungs. You cry out beautifully at the sudden stretch, fingers curling around the edge of the counter.

"Oh— W-wait, need a second—"

"You can take it, baby." It's the exact opposite of what he normally tells you. You can't tell if he's comforting you or telling you that you will take it, either. He has the grace to give you a few seconds to adjust, but after that he's moving. Deep strokes that have little bitten off moans passing your lips.

"C'mon. Tell me you can take it," he instructs, one hand on your hip and the other in your hair to hold you in place as he ducks down to murmur in your ear. You can feel the pressure of his front against your back, the warmth over your rucked up shirt.

"I can— ngh— yeah, I can take it," you choke out.

That earns you a smack to the ass in approval as he straightens back up. "That's my girl."

He's decidedly not nice about it anymore. Focused entirely on taking out all his frustrations on you, slamming into you with the most obscene sounds imaginable as his skin slaps against yours. He's done with talking—no time for words when your cunt is squeezing him so perfectly.

One of your hands releases the edge of the counter and tries to make its way down beneath you to pay attention to your neglected clit. He catches your wrist, holding it in place before it can stray away from the surface.

"No. This is for me," he grunts. "You just lay there 'n' take it for me."

Well, that's a little mean. But... extremely hot. "O-okay, I can— ah— can do that."

The only way to describe it is him fucking you absolutely senseless. You're practically drooling onto the counter with each rough thrust, babbling senselessly about wanting to take it for him and make him feel better.

All you can hear through your haze is his balls slapping against your ass, the slick sound of him burying himself into your heat, your own desperate mewls and Dodge's grunts of effort. You have no doubt he'll make it up for you later with his head between your thighs after he's cooled off. Hopefully in your bed, and not making a mess of your dad's kitchen.

His other hand moves to push your shirt up a little further, calloused fingers skimming along your spine. A surprisingly gently touch considering the brutal pace he's set, tracing over the spot where you'd hit the benchtop too hard. You'd think it was an apology if it weren't for the little hum of satisfaction he gives.

His grip tightens around the wrist pressed into the hardened limestone, and the occasional stuttering of his hips signifies his oncoming climax. "Wanna cum inside. Can I?" His voice sounds rough, strained.

You just whimper in reply, fingers clenching fruitlessly into a fist. The way you rock back onto him should be an answer in itself, but it doesn't stop him from groaning—

"C'mon. Say it."

You aren't even sure you're capable of speaking right now, voice raw from crying out with each sharp thrust. "If it'll make you feel better," you manage.

"Feeling charitable, sweetheart?" He sounds amused, but the little smirk is wiped right off his face when you clench around him. Yeah, no, he's not lasting any longer at all.

A few more thrusts and he's burying himself to the hilt to spill into you with a ragged groan. "Ah, fuck, take it—" And you do. You take it all with a moan at the warmth filling your cunt, face still pressed into the marble.

The silence that follows is only broken by Dodge's pants of exertion as he comes down from his high. You can't bring yourself to ask him to move, either, even when your cheek is no doubt imprinted and your legs are trembling.

Eventually, though, in a rough voice: "Needed that."

You can't help but smile. "Yeah. I can tell."

You feel a little guilty for thinking it, but you hope he has bad days more often if that's what you get as soon as he's in the door. Maybe he'll let you cum next time, too.

[star--stilinski]

I would absolutely LOVE to request a buzzcut stiles smut omg😭

If you are comfortable and if this is not too much detail could you write something about Stiles being insecure of his buzzcut thinking it makes him unattractive but when he tells his other bsf/reader she’s like flabbergasted and tells him how hot it makes him and it makes him all cocky. Then he’d probably like ask her is she’s serious and when she says yes finally act on his feelings. Maybe soft smut? If that is okay

HALLELUIAH YES GAWDDDD i love this sm omg

☆

stiles frowns at his reflection. scott is ranting in the school bathroom again, but it's all stuff stiles has already heard before and he's distracted anyway. he runs an absent hand over his short hair before following a still-rambling scott out of the bathroom and down the hall.

it's been getting on his nerves lately, how slow his hair is growing. he thought it was pretty cool at first, until he was slapped in the face with the reality of his best friend getting girls left and right and leaving stiles completely dry. not that it's scott's fault- he's just easy to get jealous of with this kind of thing.

"dude, are you even listening?" scott abruptly stops and whirls on stiles. "you've been dead silent for, like, three minutes."

"yeah, i heard you. but it's a little hard to care about your girlfriend strife when she actively wants to sleep with you. speaking of,"

allison is leaning against a locker, watching scott with a dreamy look. she waves and smiles softly, leaving scott to return the smile-wave combo with a lot less charisma.

"listen," stiles sighs, trying to keep the bite of envy out of his tone, "you probably just need to talk to her. girls love confidence. just, i dunno," he waves wildly with his hands. "do that."

scott squints at him. "i think that might be the worst advice you've ever given me."

"worse than killing derek?"

"possibly. now, i'm gonna go-" scott throws a look towards allison and swallows thickly, "figure that out. i'll see you."

stiles calls after him; "don't be an idiot! remember i'm living vicariously through you right now!"

once scott and allison are far enough down the hall, he rubs a hand over his hair again and huffs. stupid, stupid freshman stiles and his bad hair decisions.

"you're gonna rub right through your skull."

"GAH!" stiles jumps back from you, snapped out of his spiraling thoughts. you laugh at him behind your hand, looking up through your pretty lashes. "jesus, your footsteps are like feathers. i need to put a bell on you."

that makes you frown, shoulder-checking him as you start walking. "you're just not used to anything other than two-left-feet scott mccall. i have perfectly regular footsteps."

he jogs to catch up with you as you make your way to the school parking lot, eyeing your choice of shorts. your legs being out is a big plus for his racing mind today.

"hey, you busy today? scott ditched me to go play loverbirds and i don't want to do my homework." he hums, pushing one of the heavy doors open and letting you through.

"hmm, that depends, do you have food at your house?"

"not even a little," he smirks at the almost-yes as you both trot through the empty lot towards his jeep. "that's why we're getting drive thru."

"who's paying?"

"who do you think?"

you cheer excitedly as he unlocks the jeep.

☆

you're sat criss-cross on stiles' bed as he paces, tracking his movement with your eyes. he's on a tangent about scott, actually, and how his decision-making skills are subpar. you're listening intently with a tilted head, watching his hands flex as he talks, and the way his biceps bulge without his flannel on, and how his jawline is so sharp-

"and girls are confusing, y'know? sorry, no offense, it's just-" this catches your attention, making your eyes flit up to his as they dart around the room. "it's just that you're all so... so... what do you guys even want? can't be money, because scott has a girlfriend. can't be personality, because jackson has a girlfriend. definitely can't be looks, because i'm pretty sure greenburg is going out with abby right now."

he sighs and turns on you, taking a dangerous step closer to the bed. his brow is upturned, eyes pleading, lips parted.

"it's this stupid buzzcut, isn't it?"

you blink, just once, before squinting. "what?"

"my hair, it's so-" he pushes a frustrated hand through it, and his jaw clenches. "so not hot."

and when he says it, with his narrowed eyes all sharp and his pink lips pressed together, you think for a moment he must be joking. "...what?"

he turns his glare onto you. "you know what i mean, okay? it's unattractive, it must be. i mean, i go completely unnoticed-"

"wait, you actually mean to tell me you think your buzzcut is ugly?"

stiles huffs, clearly not liking the bluntness of his feelings being laid out. "that it makes me ugly, yeah."

this makes you pause. maybe you're a minority, but when stiles drives his jeep and starts talking fast about something nerdy, you imagine climbing into his lap and making him crash the car. one time you two were arguing while he was in his lacrosse uniform and you genuinely wanted to offer to suck his dick. and even right now, with his too-tight t-shirt and his frustrated face, you want to ask him to take his frustration out on you... in- in a hot way. you may have gone a little far with that one-

"would you stop looking at me like that?" he snips, eyes darting over your whole face and then your body like he's looking for the off switch. you frown up at where he stands.

"like what? i'm just in disbelief."

he rolls his eyes. "like you're gonna tackle me. it's weird, after what i just told you."

"well, maybe i do want to tackle you." oh shit, that was supposed to stay in your head! quick, make it look like it was on purpose! "the buzzcut doesn't make you ugly."

his face screws up in confusion. "well, then, what does it make me?"

"hot."

you both kinda falter, like there's nowhere to go from here. his mouth gapes open and you watch his cheeks grow pinker, much similar to your own. and since you've already dug the hole and he doesn't seem too bothered, you make it an inch or two deeper.

"you're pretty hot, stiles. i mean, you hang around scott and stay in your room, so it's not like you're around enough girls for them to tell you. and you never ask me, so... that's probably why you're unaware."

he gapes at you, a hand going to his hair like it has a whole new purpose to him. "i didn't know asking you was an option...."

"apparently it is." you shrug. your oversized t-shirt and shorts suddenly seem not pretty enough for where this conversation seems to be going, but it's too late to linger on that thought now. anyway, his eyes are on you like sniper lasers... or something... and he takes another step closer to you.

"okay, um... i'm asking you."

you raise your eyebrows. what, he just wants you to lament on how sexy he is? you're not that easy, he's probably going to use that information to chase the skirts of some long, skinny-legged girl at school. besides, there's not even that much to-

"please." he hums.

you swallow, turning your face away from him. "okay, well, you've got the whole secretly smart guy thing going on. and your nose is really nice. mix that with the way your eyes are...-"

"my eyes are what?"

you glance up to glare at his impatience. he tilts his head at you, and you swear you can see a mischievous glint in those stupid, stupid (aggravatingly sexy) eyes. bastard.

"they're, um, provocative. when you're frustrated. or focused." you turn your eyes awayyyy from his reaction, for your own safety. "and your jaw is nice, so. plus your hands-"

"my hands?"

"are you gonna keep interrupting me? 'cause i'll stop." you gripe up at him, but looking back up was a big mistake. his cheeks are tinted pink but his mouth is quirked up into a knowing little smirk, like your embarrassment is suddenly clay for him to play with. yeah, no. you are not getting stuck in this position with stiles. "okay, yeah, that's enough."

"no, nonononono wait." he crosses the rest of the distance to crouch in front of the bed, looking up at you. "i'm sorry. i'm just not used to this. or you, like this." his hand rests atop your knee. "i won't even react. keep going, just a bit?"

you pout and look at his hand as his thumb rubs back and forth on your bare skin. it's warm and relaxing and makes your whole body burn hot when his hand inches up your thigh just barely. you look back up at him, but his face is earnest, promising. you sigh.

"your buzzcut makes you look good."

his eyebrows inch up his forehead.

"really good."

stiles grins.

☆

you're not really sure if you left stiles' house or escaped it, after that. all you know is that last night did some serious damage to your ego... and some serious maintenance to his. as you leave school, your mind replays the series of events and the blush that has been plaguing your cheeks and making you overheat returns.

dammit! you had to avoid stiles all day because of this stupid embarrassment. which proved difficult, since you guys had plenty of classes together and ate lunch with each other every day since forever. you slap your cheeks as you shoulder your way past the school doors and into the parking lot, glancing over at the field where lacrosse practice is in full swing.

your eyes catch on something odd, and coach's voice fades into the background when the image registers in your mind. stiles is leaning on the fence with his helmet in hand, sweat making his skin glow and a cocky look on his face. he's leaned over the fence, chatting up three soccer girls, who all seem very interested in whatever he's saying.

this, unfortunately, does not make you happy. but alas, what are you going to do? pull him away by the ear and chastise him for... talking to girls? you just wish you hadn't said anything about his stupid buzzcut (which looks unrealistically good with his lacrosse uniform).

all three of the girls throw their heads back laughing. and it's not even, like, pretty girl flirtatious laughter. it's loud, and one of the girls slaps her friend's arm. you want to rip the arm off.

but you keep walking instead, because you decided the bus was too much and walking home was the best option. better than standing in the parking lot, staring like a creep as your best friend (who you want to messy-make-out with) finally gets girls (who you want dead).

this is going to be a pathetic walk home.

you barely get to the end of the parking lot when you hear stiles shout your name as loud as he can.

part of you wants to stomp your feet and cry, or ignore him (as if the echo didn't reverberate off of the school building), or flip him off. like a middle schooler. because right now, you don't want to deal with the humiliation of telling stiles (through mumbles and attitude) how hot he is and how badly you want him to fuck you into his mattress, only for him to use you as matchmaker for hotter, more experienced girls.

but you're not a child, and he's still your best friend. plus, his lacrosse uniform.... yum.

jesus christ, you need a drink. there is no way that thought just consciously happened.

you drag your feet walking back, and the soccer girls skip off with their ponytails swinging. stiles is smiling all big and bright when you finally reach him. you are not smiling at all. "you needed me?"

"yeah, i wanted to know if you were coming over tonight." he stands taller than you, and his buzzcut looks so touchable right now, you want to bend him down to your level and run your fingers through it. you blink up at him as you stare, and the silence stretches. his hand comes up to the back of his neck. "uhh, just 'cause i could help you with the homework we skipped yesterday-" he interrupts himself. "are you okay?"

"i'm fine. for both. the homework and the question." you press your thumb into your palm and turn towards the lacrosse field, away from his searching eyes and worried lips. "see you tomorrow, yeah?"

you start to back away from him when he steps forward, the fence catching him from coming closer to you. "well i just- you should come over. i want you to."

"stiles, i can't wait for lacrosse practice to end-"

"i'll skip. they don't even need me." he clenches his jaw when you look back at him. there's a determination in his eyes you've never seen directed at you, and it makes your stomach flip. you've never fell victim to being his prey before, when he wants something so he gets it. the feeling is unrivaled. his lips part. "please."

you can feel your cheeks flush. why does that always have to work on you?

"okay, alright, no need to beg." you nod your head to his jeep, on the far side of the parking lot. "let's go."

he does a subtle fist pump that he doesn't think you see, and hops the fence to follow you, leaving literally everything in the locker room except his car keys. "how was your day?"

you glance up at him, but only for a second when you see how he's staring. all curious and excited, probably from the attention he was getting from those soccer girls. your lips press together in distaste before you even realize.

"it was fine." you shrug, watching as he gets ahead of you to open the passenger door. "got an A on mrs. martin's project."

stiles hums in approval, which may or may not make your lower stomach fizz with butterflies. then he closes your door and makes the short jog to his side, clambering inside. "good job. you hungry?"

you shake your head as he pulls out of the parking lot, doing your best to ignore the vein in his neck when he looks over his shoulder as he backs out, hand resting on your seat. yeah, you totally don't notice that. "no thanks, i'm okay."

"are you sure? i didn't see you at lunch. or english. or-"

"i wasn't feeling well today."

this shuts him up, but not in a good way. you feel his eyes on you, even as he drives, and it makes you squirm a bit. but he doesn't comment on your icy tone, and you drive the rest of the way in silence.

☆

in fact, you're silent all the way up to his room, where you toss your bag in the corner and toe your shoes off. stiles huffs out a sigh and scrubs over his buzzcut self-consciously, tracking you with his eyes as you trail aimlessly around his room and admire the things on his walls.

he's been dying to ask it. he has to. the girls on the soccer team said... he squeezes his eyes shut while you're turned away, repeating what they said to him in his head for nth time. just be honest, and confident. that's what you'd want.

stiles takes bold strides across the room right up to you. he gives you enough room to turn around and face him, but not much more.

"hey."

you scrunch your face up just a bit in confusion. "...hi?"

he clears his throat, his jaw flexing on it's own accord. "the...- okay, when you said my buzzcut makes me look really good-"

"stiles," you scoff and push past him, walking to the middle of his room as a means of escape. "i'm not doing this with you."

"no, wait, doing what?" he scurries around you to face you again, holding you lightly by the shoulders. "waitwaitwait. you gotta let me-"

"no. stop." you're embarrassed, he can tell now. the way you turn your face away and narrow your brow, he never knew he'd be able to read you so well. but he's doing it now, and he's not happy with what he's seeing.

"no, you stop. let me ask you what i want to ask, alright?" he huffs through his nose, and watches as you seem to come to attention. it gives him an odd thrill to see you react so readily when he corrects you. "are you gonna listen to me?"

you glare up at him for a second too long before nodding slowly. he nods too, and in a impatient, annoyed tone, he grumbles: "good."

and then stiles watches your eyes flicker as you fluster much more than he expected. he didn't think much of the words when he was saying them, but here you both are, weirdly into it. he blinks hard to clear his head.

"when you said my buzzcut makes me look 'really good'," he repeats, "did you mean really good to you or to other people?"

he feels you shift your weight by the movement of your shoulders. looking away, you hum, "i don't understand why this is important to you."

stiles narrows his eyes. "yes you do. you know you're into me and you just wont say it."

you snap your eyes to his and take a challenging step forward. "who said i'm into you? just because i said you're good looking doesn't mean you get to use me as some matchmaking machine. i won't inflate your ego just so you can hook up with popular girls, stiles. you can't-"

"i'm not asking so you can inflate my ego." stiles takes a step towards you, making you step back. "i'm asking because i want to know if you were serious." another step. "because i want you to think that about me." another step, and your back hits the wall.

you watch, doe eyed, as stiles brings a hand up to push some of your hair away from your face. his eyes meet yours, but dip down when your lips part. he swallows.

"so," stiles hums, towering over you. "were you being serious?"

stiles watches in awe as your pretty mouth forms around his new favorite word.

"yes."

he half expects himself to tear both of your clothes off and go wild. but his body moves on its own accord; taking your face gently in his hands, kissing you like you're made of glass. when you reciprocate eagerly, he feels his pants start to strain. fuck. seriously? can you please pretend you've had at least some action before?

he can't believe he has to talk his dick down when he's kissing you.

pressing you back up against his bedroom wall, he feels goosebumps rise as your nails rake lightly over his buzz, and it makes him hum. stiles gently removes one hand from the curve of your jaw and slides it onto your hip instead. he loves your hips. he loves them even more when his hands are on them, apparently, because the feeling of it is otherworldly.

what's even better, though, is when your tongue collides with his and you let out a small noise. it's high-pitched and whiney, and it almost makes him finish prematurely. he licks eagerly into your mouth to try and draw it out of you again, but you seem to silence yourself from embarrassment. this does not fly with stiles. his knee draws forward and splits your thighs apart, resting in between them, and he moves down to kiss at your neck. he'll make you whine again, he's sure of it.

"wait," you breathe out. he almost doesn't catch it, too busy with the way your skin feel on his lips and how he has you up against his wall, breathless and pliant. but he pulls back (albeit reluctantly) and meets your dazed look with one of his own.

"what? is this okay? do you wanna stop?" he might actually die on the spot if you want to stop. but he'd do it, for you. his hand massages your hip where he's got you gently pinned, and he watches as it visibly makes you sway (swoon, but you'd never admit that).

"no, no. but, your dad-"

"he's out."

"he could get home anytime."

"we can be quick. we don't have to do anything more than this right now."

"stiles," you're laughing at him. it's airy, and mostly just a teasing smile, but you're still laughing at him. "are you just saying that to get me in your bed? i mean..."

your thigh, which is in between his because of his being in between yours, slides up and presses lightly against his hard-on. his jaw goes slack as the unexpected pressure washes pleasure all over his nerves, and his shoulders bend over for a moment as his hips react on their own. he stops himself, thoroughly embarrassed, and glares at you. you giggle behind your hand, raising an eyebrow. "how're you gonna say you don't want anything below the collar with that going on?"

he pushes your thigh away, shaking his head. "i never said i didn't want anything more, i said we don't have to do anything more. plus, you're the one making the noises and touching me and... so, if anything, this isn't even my fault." stiles gestures vaguely to his dick.

"i'm flattered." you deadpan, before your hand trails from his chest to his stomach. he watches in awe, still half disbelieving that he got you here. you hook your fingers into his waistband and look up at him. "promise your dad wont walk in on us?"

"can you not talk about my dad while turning me on?" he groans, scrubbing a hand over his face. "swear on my life, you have nothing to worry about."

you nod and lean back against the wall, tugging him by his pants to meet you there. he follows suit, lining his body against yours as he kisses you, hands on your hips with yours running through his buzz. he captures your lower lip in his teeth and gently as he can, and you make another short, high-pitched noise again. his dick twitches in his pants.

"you wanna, um," you suck in a breath as he kisses your neck, "move to the bed?"

"yes," he sighs, and immediately pulls your hips forward and directs you to his bed. when you drop onto it and scoot back, stiles hesitates. your hair is a bit messy, lips are full, and your eyes have a glint in them he's never seen before. he's assaulted with the thought of you being his wife and having his kids and growing old and dying together, and then he blinks it away. jesus christ, you're a powerful woman.

he wants to do anything to make you look like this all the time. needy, pretty, all your insecurities and doubts kissed right off of your lips, even if it's just for a bit. is this what being horny is going to be like for him now? is he gonna be a sap when you want to fuck?

stiles crawls over you slowly, laying you back against his pillows. you're excited and it shows, and you're both smiling when he kisses you this time.

☆

he's a mess for days after, head full of the faces you make when he touches you just right, the noises coming from your mouth when you finish. the feeling of skin on skin, the picture perfect look of you wearing his shirt after. it takes scott about two and a half seconds to scrunch up his nose and make a disgusted face at stiles when he starts thinking it. your beauty is just seeping out of him, like he soaked you up and now every werewolf in a one hundred mile radius can smell the lovesick puppy on him.

you want to go on dates, too. real ones, all the time, and you think he's hot and cute and sometimes pretty, which is confusing to him but he likes it anyway. and he wants to save up his money so he can take you to a fancy restaurant. and he is so whipped.

which he's fine with. as long as it's for you. honestly, he's fine with almost anything, as long as it's for you.

☆

i didn't write smut and i apologize but my writing process is to blackout while my fingers fly across my keyboard like i'm a hacker spy until i come to and there's a story on the screen. so. smut didn't happen naturally so it ain't gonna happen at all, i guess. i dunno. ask writing star, not editing star. sorry i've been so absent, holidays is super busy with extended family and such. wish me luck. xoxo!!!

☆

BONUS!! stiles asks some poor soccer girls for help before you went to his house after lacrosse practice. the advice is... really somethin'.

"hey, um, lily?" he had to guess the name of the girl jogging past, but he got it right. she stopped and approached him skeptically, glancing at her two friends in front of her.

"yeah?" she threaded her fingers through the fence as he strided the rest of the distance to her. her two friends had begun making their way over as well. she had to squint past the sun as she stared at him. "what's up?"

"hi, hey, we have bio together. fourth period? i've sat behind you all sememster?"

her face showed no recognition.

"...anyway, i have a question. actually, i can ask all three of you. since you're, um, girls."

her two friends had approached at that point, and looked equally as put off by stiles as lily did. he cleared his throat and started on his ramble:

"so, let's say i'm best friends with this girl, and i like her. like, a lot. and she's kinda totally way out of my leauge, but we never talk about it because she doesn't see things like that anyway. and one day i get on a rant about girls and how confusing they are because, y'know," he gestured to his face like it was a tell of itself, "and she says that my biggest insecurity- err, physically- is actually really hot. and she says my hands are sexy. and my eyes are seductive. and she's like, kinda blushing a lot? but she blushes anyway about stuff around me so it doesn't really-"

"she likes you." one of lily's friends piped up behind her. "if that's what you're asking."

"are you sure? i'm not her type, plus-"

"dude," sighed the other one. the three girls shared a look, making stiles gulp. "girls don't call guys' hands sexy unless they're dying to have them in their mouth."

"mazie!" lily whirled around to slap her friend's shoulder, which did absolutely nothing to censor her. when she turned back to stiles, it was apologetically. "sorry, but she's got a point."

he slumped onto the fence in relief. "you think so? i want to put my hands in her mouth, if she's asking for that."

"nice." mazie nodded as the other two girls made noises of disgust. ignoring them, mazie continued. "honestly, she probably likes you but thinks you don't like her. especially if you're chatting up three soccer girls, looking like that."

the only girl stiles hadn't gotten the name of nodded solemly, and lily put her hands on her hips, determined. "okay, skinhead. how're you gonna confess?"

stiles smiles awkwardly. "uh, i'll just tell her when she comes over tonight?"

lily barked out a laugh, and her two friends followed suit. it was loud, like three crows making fun of him while they toss their heads back. it ended abruptly, too, and lily glared daggers at him in the silence. "no, idiot."

stiles whimpered a little "oh."

"girls love confidence." the unnamed girl declared, tilting her head. "when i flirt with girls i always make them like, say how hot i am. always gets them going."

"god," lily scrunched her nose, "are you both ovulating? we do not need to know all of that."

"so... what should i do?" stiles blinked at them, and they refocused their attention on him.

"be confident. be honest. that's always a rare, and hot, trait in a guy." lily said, before her eyes roved over him analytically. "anyway, you're attractive. it'll be fine."

"he's attractive?" the unnamed girl said, making all three of them laugh again. lily slapped her arm, and stiles let himself get distracted as his eye caught on someone walking across the parking lot.

oh, it's you.

his body feels a bit warmer, buzzing with nervous energy, as he shouts your name.

☆

[iqxatlantic]

hey can you please write about reader giving nagi a handjob while he's playing but as revenge because he's been ignoring reader for his games so reader doesn't let him cum unless he wins the round but he can't focus on the game because of the pleasure he's feeling!! hoping for a kinda subby nagi if that's alright <3

YES YES OMG ANON BBY I SEE IT AHJWJSAJ delicious plot hehe!

"i'm about to show you, baby slow down!"

ft. nagi seishiro . ooc! nagi ? . somewhat sub! nagi heh . aged up! characters . established-relationships . fem! reader . nsfw . smut . handjobs . cockwarming in the end ? . nagi's kinda a dick rn . use of mommy ig... . unreliable narrator.. :^

wc: 0.5k

cw: this might be dub-con idk tho

"my girlfriend's always harassing me whenever i'm tryna play a game.. what a hassle," nagi started off. his friends giggled on vc. "she's a nice person, you'll get used to it."

a few rounds of horror games, nagi was carrying hard. (heh hard like him :x) horror games were yea, a hassle. but, not a hassle to him. unlike his friends, nagi didn't really scream. shit, he was so lazy he didn't even wanna be fazed.

this round in particular though... "g-good god..." the man whined, spasming a little. "you good, nagi?" bachira asked. "is the horror finally getting to you?" your softer, smaller hands pumping at his cock :p

it started off slow, nagi didn't really notice at first. slow and steady wins the race right? but after a few more minutes of getting ignored, you fastened the pace.

you locked eyes with nagi. your lips curling into a smirk. "sei, what're your friends g'na think when they realize that when you're receiving a handjob with little to no lubrication at all?" you began. "your cock was leaking so much pre — it was like you wanted me to do this!" you continued to yap, face now no longer in a cocky demeanor but, in a pouty expression now.

"[n-name]," the grey eyed man moaned out. your expression, your hands... the stimulation was getting to him. "w-wait guys- oooh..." nagi tried to get out, his voice now strained. "nagi, you weren't even screaming are you good?" isagi asked. screaming? nah this guy was CREAMING.

"y-yep, i'm good," he stuttered out. "i jus' need a few minutes off real qui.." his voice trailed off as he muted himself. his hand released the mouse as his calloused fingers wrapped around your hand. nagi began thrusting into your hand.

his shaft was absolutely tearing up, just like the man. tears leaked from his eyes while there was a bit of semen leaking out of his tip LOL.

"[name], s-slow down.. [name], i-i.." he couldn't even get the words out as he scrunched his eye shut. "sei, yknow you dont deserve this at all.. all you've done was ignore me n shit this whole week..." you frowned. nagi knew he was coming close, hell he WAS going to come.

"i'm sorry mommy, i didn' mean t'- god! please, i'm sorry!" he apologized. the stimulation actually got to nagi as he came. his precious n delicious come leaked out as he let out the most gorgeous moan you've ever heard during the whole time you two were together.

your eyes kinda widened. nagi had this flushed, fucked out expression. he was panting like crazy. "[name], i'm so sorry.." he sobbed.

"what happened to emotions being a hassle, seishiro?" you teased. his sweatpants n boxers were to his knees LOL. nagi slid down your shorts n panties. "please let me feel your warm cunt, ma'am.. please use me f' your pleasure, pretty.." nagi mumbled. most genuine mumble omd...

"my bad guys, i'm back." nagi grunted after unmuting. nagi had a little bit of struggle seeing the PC screen with his gorgeous partner's warm n tight walls clenching against his shaft. let's just say, nagi wasn't the best player after LOL.

— ©iqxatlantic / isaisliterallyhim, 2025

tags! : @twijaxx ♡, @kyvkc

a/n : errr... idk man i came back from training w my corps i j wrote this and threw it .. kinda late night post so uhwhhdaj sorry for the unreadabler englush i tried ok ygs i j went thru a breakup pls give me credit for trying. nyways, nagi ohf wakkk hes so hot omg.. i need that 190 cm man in me omgmgmjddkkwjd anyhow i hope ygs enjoyed hehe

[jisungiesvzz]

Hiii! Can u please write a similar one like ' give in to me' but a han version💗no rush or anything. I really like ur writing 🫶

I absolutely love this idea! Hope this wasn't too long of a wait :)

Unexpected?

Idol!Han x Choreographer Fem!Reader

Warnings: kissing/making out, public touching (no one sees), neck kissing, fingering (f receiving), getting interrupted/caught

Word Count: 4k (don't look at me)

Author's Note: please let me know if I missed any warnings, this was rushed! And sorry for not posting in so long, I've been going thru it lately...

Versions: Hyunjin // Han // Jeongin //

—— 

You’d spent the whole day with Han and his band members trying to teach them some new choreography. They’d asked you a couple days before if you’d teach them some dances just for fun and you happily agreed. 

It was past dinner time, nearly the middle of the night at this point, when you’d realized how late you’d stayed in the studio with the boys. You said your goodnights to each other and dispersed out of the studio.

You knew it was somewhat dangerous to walk home by yourself at this hour but you didn't want to bother anyone by asking for a ride. You’d made it a good few feet from the studio when you heard someone call out to you. You turned around to put a face to the voice, a slight smile spreading across your lips when you realized it was Han.

“Hey, do you need a ride back to your dorm?”

“Uh, no it's okay. I can walk, it’s not too far.”

A frown had formed on Han’s face at your response, like it wasn't the answer he was looking for. "Y/n, there's no way I'm letting you walk back at this hour."

"But—"

"Uh-uh," Han cut you off before you could protest and pointed to his car, "To the vehicle, right now. You're coming with us."

You couldn't help but smile at his stubbornness as he walked up to you from behind and guided you to the car by your shoulders. When you arrived at the car, Han opened the door for you, revealing his bandmates inside.

"Alright guys, make some room. Y/n's coming with us!"

"I call dibs on Jeongin!" Hyunjin happily pointed at Jeongin from the backseat, then grabbed his collar to drag him to the back, earning a fake disgusted face from the younger boy.

"Yah! Channie-hyung save me!" Jeongin wailed, and you couldn't help but laugh at their antics.

After a couple moments of commotion, you and Han finally settled into the middle row. The car ride was pretty mellow, except for the music playing on the radio and playful comments from one of the boys every now and then. You tried to stay awake but your exhaustion that accumulated throughout the day had slowly started to creep up on you and you dozed off.

———

You felt a hand running soothingly through your hair and you subconsciously nuzzled into it. The hand traveled down to cup your cheek and ran a thumb softly across it. You were slowly woken up when you felt someone press their lips to the top of your head and softly speak to you, "Y/n… y/n wake up, we're here."

You finally stirred awake, blinking away your sleep. When you came to your senses, you realized you had fallen asleep on Han's shoulder. You quickly lifted your head off his shoulder, slightly flustered from having fallen asleep on him, "I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep..."

"Don't be, you're cute when you sleep," Han gave an innocent grin, sending hundreds of butterflies flying through your stomach. You tried to hide the blush creeping across your face by looking around the car, only to notice that everyone was gone. It made your heart flutter more to know it was just you and Han in the car. It also made you wonder how long you two had been alone for.

"They went inside a couple minutes ago," Han whispered, as if he somehow read your mind.

"Ah, I see…" you whispered back, not trusting yourself to look at him so you stared down at your fidgeting hands.

You didn't realized how close you were to him until you felt his breath on your neck. Han gently grabbed your chin and tilted your head to look at him. Your faces were mere inches apart and your heart skipped a beat. He leaned even closer, looking down at your lips with lidded eyes, your breath hitching when his lips faintly grazed yours, his thumb caressing your cheek, slowly teasing you with how close he was.

Suddenly, Han's phone began ringing. He softly scoffed with a smirk before pulling away, looking at his phone to see who was calling. "Of course… " Han sighed, picking up the call.

You were stunned, frozen in place for a moment while your mind was racing to try and fathom the moment.

Did that really just happen? Was he going to kiss me?

You forced yourself to shove your thoughts aside when you heard Chan's semi-concerned voice on the other end of the call, "Are you guys okay? You've been out there for awhile."

"Uh, yeah, I just woke her up," Han glanced at you for a moment with an expression you couldn't decipher in time before he continued talking to Chan. "We're gonna head inside now."

Han ended the call then shifted across the seats to open the car door. You were caught off guard when he took your hand and guided you outside the car. As he led you up to the dorm, you couldn't help but think about the moment you two shared not even a couple minutes ago. It wasn't unusual for you and Han to share small affectionate moments like holding hands and things like that but it was never something more — never like… that. Han was being so calm about it that you began to think it never even happened, that maybe you were overthinking the situation. No way you were.

You shook your thoughts away when you arrived at the dorm. The group of boys were splayed out across the couch watching some drama on the TV. Some of them spared you glances of acknowledgment, but most of their attention remained on the show. A part of you was relieved they paid little to no mind to your entrance because you realized that you and Han were still holding hands.

Han led you down the hallway towards his room, not letting go of your hand until the door was closed. He walked further into the room, turning a corner — disappearing from your view. You awkwardly stood by the door, not sure if he wanted you to follow him or not. A few seconds later, he peeked his head around the corner. His eyes subtly ran up and down your body before he let out a soft chuckle at your awkwardness.

"I don't bite, you know," he grinned before disappearing from your view again. You sarcastically laughed at his comment before heading towards the section of the room he was in. When you turned the corner, you found Han racking through some of his clothes, eventually picking up two black hoodies; different in size.

"Which one do you want wear?" Han held the hoodies out in front of him for you to observe.

"Oh- uh it's okay I don't—"

"Y/n, please, I can see the goosebumps on your arms," he cut you off, a knowing look on his face. You opened your mouth to counter his statement but immediately took it back when his gaze intensified, as if warning you he wouldn't take no for an answer.

You let out a sigh before choosing the bigger hoodie of the two. Once you made your decision, Han swiftly pulled the other one over his head. You frowned at him, "If I had known you were gonna wear the one I didn't choose, I would've taken the smaller one."

Han chuckled at your comment, "Just put on your sweater, jagiya." Your heart fluttered at the sudden pet name, butterflies forming in your stomach when he took a few steps closer to you. His hands grazed over yours as he grabbed the hoodie and helped you pull it over your head, wrapping his hands around the back of your neck to pull your hair out from underneath the hoodie. Your mind was becoming fuzzy from the gesture, deciding to distract yourself from his lingering hands by 'readjusting' the bottom area of the garment.

You let out a sigh when his hands started carding through your hair, lightly grazing your scalp; not enough to massage but enough to grasp your attention. When you didn't look at him, he tilted your head back by lightly tugging at the strands of your hair, eliciting a shocked, quiet gasp from you.

It was like you were in the car all over again, your faces just inches apart — the gap closing. His lips grazed yours, your breath hitching when his thumb came to graze across your bottom lip. He couldn't bare the distance anymore as he cupped your cheeks and pressed his lips against yours. You melted into his touch, placing your arms around his neck. He leaned your head to the side to deepen the kiss by tugging on your hair again and you whined into his mouth. You felt him smirk against your lips and your knees nearly buckled when he ran his tongue along your bottom lip teasingly.

One of Han's hands trailed down your body, lightly massaging your waist as he backed you up against the wall, never faltering from the kiss. You gasped into his mouth at the impact and he took the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth with a quiet groan. In desperate need to ground yourself with something, anything, your hands flew to his hair, intertwining with the strands.

Han was the first to pull away, leaning his forehead against yours, both of you left breathless. Your heart was beating through your chest as you untangled your hands from his hair. Before you could place them anywhere else, he took one of your hands in his and laced his fingers with yours, another wave of butterflies flowing through you at the gesture. For a moment, only heavy breathes and lingering looks were shared; your mind still processing.

Han leaned in closer, as if to kiss you again when suddenly, there was a loud knock on the bedroom door, making both of you nearly jump out of your skin. You immediately separated from each other when you heard the door open and footsteps gradually coming closer.

"Where are you guys?" you heard Chan call out, hearing a tint of uncertainty in his voice.

"Uh, the c-closet," Han replied back, rubbing the back of his neck — you could see his cheeks turning a slight crimson color, surely not as obvious as your flushed cheeks though. His sudden flustered state was shocking to you as he had just made the first move not too long ago.

Chan came into view as Hyunjin curiously popped his head around the corner. "Are you guys okay?" Chan asked, furrowing his brows when he felt some tension in the room. Hyunjin narrowed his eyes at you suspiciously and your shoulders subtly tensed more from his gaze. Could he tell?

You tried to shrug it off and make something up but your mind was still elsewhere. Han quickly stepped in, "Yeah, we're fine. Just… talking."

"Wait a minute," Hyunjin said, readjusting himself so he was no longer peeking inside the room. His finger pointed between you and Han and you felt like your heart was about to stop, "Are you wearing Han's hoodie?"

You began stumbling over your words, heat rising to your cheeks and you turned your head away when Han spoke up again, recomposing himself. "Uh, she was cold earlier, so I gave it to her."

Hyunjin pressed his tongue against his cheek, side eyeing you as he began to take a few steps out of the closet, "Mhm, for sure."

Chan rolled his eyes and shooed Hyunjin off as he giggled to himself all the way out the door. Chan remained in the closet doorway as you and Han avoided eye contact with him.

"Okay, I don't know what's happening here and I honestly don't want to know," Chan admitted, letting out a deep sigh. "Just… hurry up and come join us. I can't take another moment of them complaining about your guys' absence," he continued, partially talking to himself as he walked out the door.

Han let out a soft chuckle once he was sure it just you two in the room again. You looked at him with a confused expression, "What's so funny?"

"Nothing," he gave you a small smile before taking your hand in his and leading you to the living room. You were sure you were redder than a tomato now. "Let's go join the others."

——

It had been a couple hours since you and Han had your little… moment. You had joined the members in the TV room, settling down on one end of the couch. Han had sat next to you, his arm draped over your shoulder with a blanket spread across both your laps. Hyunjin and Felix were on the couch next to you while the rest of the boys were hurdled around the living room floor or leaning against the couch.

You'd managed to calm your nerves down a bit, choosing to intensely focus on the drama playing on the TV instead of how Han's hand seemed to be inching closer to your thigh every few seconds. When his hand finally grazed over your thigh under the blanket, you shuffled in your seat a bit, earning a cocky grin from Han. He fully rested his hand on your inner thigh causing your breath to hitch. Lee Know, who was resting in front of the couch by your feet, noticed your movements and turned to look at you.

"Are you okay?" he mouthed, brows furrowing with genuine concern. You simply nodded your head, not trusting even the smallest whisper to come out of your mouth that could expose how aroused you were becoming. Han firmly squeezed your thigh and you bit back a whine when his hand traveled up to caress the waistband of your sweatpants. You cleared your throat, sitting up on the couch.

"Uh, I'm just gonna go to the bathroom really quick." With that, you sprung off the couch, urgently heading towards the bathroom at the end of the hallway — just out of view from the members.

You had opened the door when someone came up behind you and dragged you inside. From the corner of your eye, you recognized Han and before you could say anything, he was closing the door and pushing you up against the wall, his arms landing on either side of your head, caging you in. Your hands instinctively flew up to his chest to steady yourself, palms trembling when you felt his toned muscles.

"H-Han, what are you— " you were cut off when Han smashed his lips against yours. He pressed his hips against you as he kissed you slow and sloppy. You practically moaned into his mouth from the friction of his hips and he pushed his tongue into your mouth earning a real moan from you.

The sounds you were making seemed to spur him on more and he groaned, his hands flying to your hips to guide you against him. He broke from the heated kiss, wrapping his hands under your thighs to turn you around and lift you onto the bathroom counter.

"Fuck, baby I need you," he groaned, instantly connecting his lips to your neck and you whimpered into his shoulder when he nipped at the sensitive spot just below your ear, running his tongue along the same area to sooth it. He repeated the movements, nipping and licking at the sweet spot on your neck, lightly massaging your thighs as you moaned and whimpered against him.

His hands trailed to the waistband of your pants, tugging at the fabric. You grinded your hips forward and he took that as a sign to take them off, instantly doing so. His hand went down to your clit, rubbing slow, tight circles on it over your underwear. You moaned at the new sensation, rocking your hips against him as your hands flew to his hair.

"F-fuck, Hannie wait—" you whimpered, slightly moving your head back to look at him. Han pressed his lips against yours in a quick sensual kiss before pulling back, giving you a curious expression before letting you speak — his hand never faltering its movements on your clit.

"The m-members could hear us," you managed to whine out, feeling your orgasm approaching. You let out a guttural moan when Han moved your underwear aside and inserted two of his digits into you, curling them against your g-spot effortlessly, your walls clenching tightly around his fingers as you were on the brink of your orgasm.

"By the way you're clenching around my fingers, it looks like you're rather enjoying the idea of that," he slyly grinned, attaching his lips to your collarbone and sucking hard. You threw your head back, body tensing and legs shaking as your release hit you like a title wave. You tried to close your legs to stop him from stimulating your overly sensitive clit but his hips were in the way, keeping you open for him to fuck his fingers into you how he pleases.

"H-Hannie, it's too m-much," you whimpered trying to remove his hands from your clit and clenching hole but he only quickened his pace in response. You moaned, even louder than before, as your second orgasm crashed over you unannounced, more intense than you've ever felt.

"Yeah, that's it, let it out," Han cooed into your ear, continuing to massage your bundle of nerves and spreading your release along your inner thighs when you jolted from overstimulation. He placed soft kisses along your neck, massaging your waist and hips while you came down from your high. You lightly tugged at the strands of hair on the back of his head, pulling his attention to your face.

“Hannie,” you whispered, eyes flickering to his lips as you caught your breath. His expression was still filled with need, his grip on your hips strong, as if he was trying to hold himself back — to ground himself. “What was that about?”

“I uh- I just… something came over me, I guess,” he let out with a breathy chuckle.

“Oh? Something came over you?” you repeated his words, quirking a brow at him with a knowing look. He grinned, leaning closer so your lips were inches apart.

“After we kissed earlier, I couldn’t stop thinking about…” he paused for a second, gazing down at your lips and licking his own, lowering his voice. “About kissing you again.”

“You sure that’s all you thought about?” you teased. He lowly chuckled, rubbing your thighs and you softly gasped.

“Hm, maybe I thought of more… lewd things,” he softly kissed you, shifting closer to you and you felt his hard-on rub against your thigh. He spoke in a low, sultry tone, pressing his hips flesh with yours as a whine escaped your lips, “Let me show you.”

His lips instantly reconnected with yours as his hands flew down to his pants to undo his belt. Your hands worked their way to his shirt to lift it over his head but your movements were stopped when you heard a loud knock on the door. You both immediately froze when Chan spoke through the door, "Y/n, you okay in there?"

"Uh, I- yeah I'm okay!" you stammered out, reaching to pull your pants back up. Han didn't care about his own disheveled state as he helped fix up your clothes and smooth out your hair. When you went to stand up off the counter, you landed directly on Han's foot, a loud groan fell from his lips as you both stumbled back against the opposite wall, your hands flying to his chest to soften your fall as you hit the wall with a thud. Han groaned again when his head hit the wall, rubbing the back of his head and holding his mouth, hoping to muffle his sounds of pain. You frantically whispered apologies to him, instantly shutting up when he placed his hand over your mouth, his finger coming to his own in a shushing motion.

Outside the door, Chan heard the quiet commotion inside, his heart dropping for a split second when he heard the thud. He knocked on the door a little more frantically this time, "Y/n, what was that noise? Are you okay?"

You and Han didn't hear him over your quiet panic, completely missing how he had opened the door and was now standing in the doorway, mouth agape. His eyes went back and forth between the two of you, taking note of your messy hair, his brows furrowing with realization when he noticed Han's shirt half ridden up and belt unbuckled. Han was quick to speak up, "Wait, Chan we can—"

Chan cut him off, a mischievous smile spreading across his face, "Huh, is this what you were doing in the closet earlier?"

You were stunned. Both from the fact of being caught in such a compromising act but more from the fact of how nonchalant Chan was being about the whole situation. Your jaw went slack, heat washing over your face as words failed to leave your mouth. Han's face was completely flushed, turning his head in the other direction as Chan let out an amused chuckle.

"Ah, I see. I'll leave— " Your heart dropped again when you heard curious voices down the hallway, interrupting Chan's train of thought.

"Channie-hyung, is everything alright back there?" you heard Jeongin call out.

"Yeah, we heard some commotion from the—" Felix cut his sentence short when he reached the bathroom door, freezing in place when he saw the disheveled state you and Han were in. Chan sighed, placing his hand on Felix's shoulder, slightly shaking it to stop him from staring.

"Uh… I'm just gonna go," Felix awkwardly said, pointing down the hallway. Thankfully, on his way out he ran into Jeongin, leading the poor boy down the hallway as he fought him back, confused on what was happening.

You were on the verge of crawling out of your skin, shoulders tensed and heat creeping up your neck as embarrassment washed over you. You were already overwhelmed from Han suddenly making out with you and the additional attention of some of the members had your hands shaking.

Han seemed to noticed your anxiety and he practically leapt forward, shooing Chan out of the doorway and shutting the door. He turned back around to look at you, only to find that you were facing away from him, head in your hands.

"Y/n…?" he said softly, taking a few steps forward, unsure of what you were feeling. When you didn't say anything, only letting out a soft sigh, he carefully wrapped his arms around your waist and held your hands, resting his head on your shoulder when you didn't pull away from his initial actions.

"Did I over step?" his voice was quiet, almost hesitant. "I'm sorry if—"

"No, no, no, it's not you," you quickly reassured him, squeezing his hand. "A lot just happened in the past, like, twenty minutes. I guess I just need a minute…?"

He nuzzled his face into your neck, humming in agreement, sending tingles down your spine. After a moment, you felt him press a feather light kiss right below your ear, your breath hitching.

"Uh— Han what are you…"

"Hm, it's been a minute," Han slyly grinned, your mouth opening and closing in shock.

"Oh my gosh, Han that's not what I meant," you giggled when he squeezed your hips, pressing more kisses along your neck. Through your laughter you hadn't realized that he had unhooked himself from you and turned you around to lead your back towards the wall again. Once your back was pressed against the wall, your laughter quieted down and the air between the two of you became thick again. You softly gasped when he leaned closer and you felt something hard against your leg.

A tempting smirk spread across his face as he grazed his lips against yours, "I think we have some unfinished business."

[joaosnovia]

hmmm so i lowk want sleepy franco, bc i had a dream abt him last night no joke. let's see. okay. we're on a plane, his like travel director guy? idk what he's called, but he books the wrong ticket so franco has to sit in economy class (horror) and he's all grumpy and tired and his curls are peeking thru his hoodie (HEHE) idk if you wanna make us a fan of him or not, i truly don't care ill read it anyway, and then drumroll please, TURBULENCE, and we hold hands and end up talking and then fall in love mwah

❦ - ‘la concha de mi madre’.

warnings:: cussing.

writers notes:: IM SORRY IF YOU SPEAK SPANISH AND UNDERSTAND THE TITLE 🥀. if you get the reference then you get it but if u don’t then it’s bc he said it on team radio 😔.

tags:: @barcapix @n0vazsq @httpsdana @paucubarsisimp @cherryloveshs ; lmk if u wanna be added

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

you’re already exhausted when you get to the gate. the kind of tired that settles behind your eyes and makes everything feel just a little bit blurry. it’s a late flight, barely-full, and you’re silently thanking the universe for that as you scan your boarding pass.

economy. window seat. quiet.

until he walks in.

it’s subtle at first. just a little wave of tension that passes through the gate area like a ripple, the way it always does when someone vaguely famous walks into a space not meant for them. people don’t scream or swarm, but you hear the hushed whispers, the occasional, poorly-hidden phone snap. and then you see him.

franco.

hood up. head down. dragging a carry-on with one hand and a coffee in the other like it might be the only thing keeping him awake.

he looks like he was just pulled out of sleep and shoved into an airport. grey hoodie. black joggers. a duffel slung lazily over one shoulder. and his curls, god, his curls, are peeking out from under the fabric like they’re trying to escape. messy and soft and unfairly pretty.

you try not to stare.

he looks grumpy. not mean, not rude, just tired in the way only someone who was promised comfort but got chaos instead can be. he stops by the flight attendant, glances down at his phone, then mutters something in spanish you don’t catch but feel in your soul. it’s giving: ‘how did i end up here?’

you turn back to your book, pretending you’re not watching him weave down the aisle, scanning seat numbers, getting closer and closer until

he stops. right beside you.

your row.

he double checks his pass. stares at the seat. stares at you. then groans, barely audible, and sinks down into the seat next to yours like it personally offended him.

‘la concha de mi madre… wasn’t supposed to be here,’ he mumbles, more to himself than you.

you don’t say anything at first. you just glance sideways, taking in the way his knees hit the seat in front of him. he’s clearly too tall for this. he exhales sharply through his nose and tilts his head back, letting it thud softly against the wall.

‘rough night?’ you ask gently.

he peeks one eye open.

‘travel guy booked the wrong class. s’posed to be business.’ he sounds like he’s explaining a grave injustice. and honestly, to him, maybe it is.

you bite back a laugh. ‘and now you’re slumming it with the rest of us.’

he looks at you properly now. eyes sharp despite how sleepy he is. ‘you make it sound like i’m gonna die in here.’

‘you might,’ you tease. ‘depends how dramatic you get.’

he cracks a smile, small, sleepy, but real, and pulls his hoodie tighter around him. then it’s quiet again. the kind of quiet that fills a plane before takeoff: muted announcements, seatbelt clicks, the soft shuffle of passengers settling in.

you go back to your book. or try to. it’s hard to focus when an f1 driver is breathing softly beside you, head tilted toward the window, lashes brushing his cheekbones, hands folded loosely over his stomach.

he looks peaceful like that. tired, yes, but soft in a way you didn’t expect. like he’s finally stopped fighting the chaos and just let himself be still.

you’re almost asleep yourself when it happens.

the plane jerks. a sudden lurch. not violent, but sharp enough to pull you from the edge of sleep and snap your heart into alert.

your hand flinches toward the armrest, gripping it tight.

and then another bump, this one stronger. someone across the aisle lets out a small yelp.

your stomach twists.

and then

warm fingers slip over yours.

it’s so casual, so easy, like he’s done this before. his hand is big, firm, grounding. he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even open his eyes, but the pressure of his palm against yours is enough to slow your breath just a little.

‘just turbulence,’ he murmurs, voice low, raspy with sleep. ‘happens all the time.’

you don’t know why you believe him. maybe because he sounds so calm. maybe because your hand fits stupidly well in his. or maybe because, deep down, part of you likes that this stranger, this famous, hoodie-wearing, grumpy stranger, is the one keeping you steady.

when the turbulence fades, you think he’ll pull away.

he doesn’t.

you glance over. his eyes are open now, just barely, looking at your joined hands with an unreadable expression.

‘you don’t have to keep holding it,’ you say quietly.

he shrugs, thumb brushing against your skin. ‘you looked scared.’

you don’t answer. just look away, heart thudding a little too loud in your chest.

after a beat, he shifts in his seat, turning slightly toward you.

‘i’m franco, by the way.’

you blink. not because you didn’t know. but because it feels strange, intimate, for him to offer it like that.

‘y/n,’ you say back, voice softer than before.

he nods once. ‘pretty name.’

you smile, small and a little shy. and for the first time, you notice how close you are. how your knees almost touch. how your fingers are still tangled like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

somewhere over the clouds, in a cramped economy seat beside a boy who was never supposed to be here, something starts.

it’s quiet. unexpected. but it’s there.

and neither of you let go.

you land just after sunrise.

the light filters through the little oval window in soft streaks of gold and peach, brushing over franco’s curls as he stretches beside you with a sleepy groan. his hoodie’s slipped a little down his shoulder, revealing a white t-shirt and a glimpse of collarbone, and you don’t mean to stare, but also, maybe you do.

‘how’d you sleep?’ he asks, voice gravelly and barely awake.

you smile. ‘not much.’

‘same.’

you both sit there for a second, still tangled in the strange bubble that formed somewhere midair. he shifts, glancing down at your hands, still close, not quite touching anymore, but close enough to feel the leftover warmth. his fingers twitch like maybe he wants to reach back.

you beat him to it, brushing your pinky against his.

he looks over, and he’s smiling.

‘you hungry?’ he asks, suddenly casual. like you didn’t just hold hands for three hours in silence. like you didn’t fall asleep with your shoulder brushing his in the middle of the sky.

you blink. ‘what?’

he rubs the back of his neck, curls wild now, sticking out in soft little tufts. ‘there’s this café i always go to when i fly through here. their croissants are insane. i can… show you?’

your heart does something stupid.

‘yeah,’ you say, voice softer than you mean it to be. ‘sure. croissants sound good.’

you gather your things. he waits for you. and as you walk off the plane, into the cool, early morning quiet of the airport, something about it feels like a movie. the way your suitcases roll in sync. the way his hoodie sleeve brushes your arm every few steps. the way people glance over, eyes widening slightly, not because of you, but because of him.

he doesn’t seem to notice. or care. he’s too busy walking beside you like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

‘so,’ you say, just to fill the silence, ‘did your travel guy get fired yet?’

he snorts. ‘he’s on very thin ice.’

you laugh, and he grins, bright and sleepy and a little crooked.

the café is tucked in a quiet corner of the terminal. tiny tables. warm lights. the smell of espresso thick in the air.

he orders two croissants and two coffees like he’s done it a hundred times before.

‘you bring all your turbulence buddies here?’ you tease as you settle into a table by the window.

he smirks. ‘nah. just the brave ones who hold my hand mid-air.’

you roll your eyes, but your cheeks are warm.

the coffee is good. the croissant is better. and the company, well, that’s the best part.

you talk. about little things. stupid things. favorite movies. airport horror stories. he tells you about the time his luggage got sent to a completely different continent. you tell him about the time you missed a flight because you fell asleep at the gate. he laughs, really laughs, and you catch yourself watching the way his face lights up, the way his eyes crinkle, the soft edges of his tired smile.

you’re both halfway through your second coffee when his phone buzzes. he glances at it, then groans.

‘my ride’s here.’

you nod, trying not to look disappointed.

he stands slowly, stretching again, hoodie riding up just a little, and then looks at you like he’s not quite sure what to do.

you break the silence first.

‘it was nice flying with you.’

he huffs a laugh. ‘yeah. it was.’

you expect him to walk away. just wave, say bye, disappear into the crowd.

instead, he hesitates. looks at you like he’s debating something.

then

‘can i see you again?’

you blink. ‘what?’

he runs a hand through his curls. ‘i mean… if you want. i know it was just a weird flight and some turbulence and coffee, but…’ he shrugs, like he can’t quite explain it. ‘i liked this. i liked you.’

your heart stumbles.

‘yeah,’ you say, quiet but sure. ‘i’d like that too.’

he grins. pulls out his phone. you exchange numbers, fingers brushing as he hands it back.

‘don’t ghost me,’ he says, teasing.

you smirk. ‘only if your travel guy doesn’t mess it up again.’

he laughs again, starts to walk backward toward the exit, still facing you.

‘see you soon, turbulence girl.’

and then he’s gone.

but your phone buzzes thirty seconds later.

franco: next time i’m booking us both business class. just saying.

you grin.

yeah. you’ll see him again.

it starts with texts.

a few here and there. late at night. early morning. sleepy updates and little inside jokes. a photo of his breakfast one day. a screenshot of your playlist the next. nothing dramatic. nothing loud.

just a slow, easy kind of beginning.

and then one day, he sends you a message that says:

‘are you free this friday? i owe you dinner. and business class. but we’ll start with dinner.’

you say yes.

and that’s how you end up outside a small restaurant tucked between quiet streets, heart thudding in your chest as you spot him leaning against the wall, hoodie up, curls peeking out just like that first night.

but this time, he looks up and smiles as soon as he sees you.

‘you came,’ he says, stepping forward, pulling the hood down.

‘you asked,’ you reply.

he holds the door open for you, and it’s something about the way he looks at you, like he’s been waiting to see you again since the second you left, that makes your stomach do something ridiculous.

the restaurant is small. warm. dim lighting and quiet music. you sit across from him, nervous at first, picking at the edge of your napkin.

but he’s soft. all soft.

asking how your week was. telling you how training’s been. joking about how he’s still haunted by the flight. and you both laugh, really laugh, like it’s been forever since something felt this easy.

somewhere between dinner and dessert, the conversation shifts.

you’re talking about the places you want to visit. the little corners of the world that live on your bucket list. he’s leaning in, chin resting in his hand, eyes never leaving you.

‘so what you’re saying,’ he murmurs, ‘is that you’d need a travel buddy.’

you raise a brow. ‘you offering?’

he smiles slow. ‘i already know how you handle turbulence.’

you toss a sugar packet at him. he catches it.

and when the night ends, and you’re outside again in the cool air, he walks you to your car without saying much.

just before you open the door, he stops.

‘can i—’ he rubs the back of his neck, like he’s nervous now. ‘i wanna see you again.’

you tilt your head. ‘another flight?’

he chuckles. ‘hopefully without economy class.’

you step closer. your hands graze.

‘i’d like that,’ you say.

and this time, this time when he leans in, it’s not your hands that touch first. it’s his forehead resting lightly against yours. soft, sweet. the kind of almost-kiss that says everything without rushing it.

his voice is barely a whisper.

‘goodnight, y/n.’

and you smile, feeling weightless.

‘goodnight, franco.’

you fall asleep on facetime the first time it happens.

you’re both in bed, screens glowing in the dark, him in a hoodie again, hood up, hair a little messy from running his hand through it too much. you’re curled beneath a blanket, barely lit by your lamp, yawning as he tells you something dumb one of his teammates said in the locker room.

you’re not sure when you drift off, only that when you open your eyes again, the call is still going.

his camera is angled up now, like he fell asleep too. his face half-buried in a pillow, breathing slow. the little rectangle on your screen shows the soft rise and fall of his chest, a peek of his collarbone, the edge of his hoodie slipping down one shoulder.

you watch him for a moment.

just… watch.

something tugs at your heart. soft and sure.

you end the call before your screen dies, and sleep comes easier after that.

the next morning, he texts you:

‘slept better than i have in weeks. you?’

you type:

‘same. weird.’

he sends a photo. his pillow, a bit messy. the corner of his hoodie in the frame.

‘blaming you. don’t leave next time.’

and you want to tell him you won’t. that you’ll stay on the line until the sun rises if that’s what he wants. but you just reply:

‘no promises.’

he calls you that night too.

and the one after that.

the first kiss comes later.

not during a date. not at dinner. not even with music or city lights or anything remotely romantic.

it’s raining.

you weren’t supposed to see him. just dropped by his place to return something, a hoodie you stole without realizing. but he opens the door and grins like he hasn’t seen you in weeks instead of days.

‘you’re wet,’ he says, brushing a hand over your shoulder.

‘yeah, well, the weather’s rude.’

you’re about to hand him the hoodie when he steps back and says, ‘come in. or you’ll catch something.’

and you do.

you sit on the edge of his couch, water dripping from your sleeves. he disappears for a second, returns with a towel and a mug of something warm. tea. maybe. you’re not sure. you’re too busy watching the way his lashes stick together from the rain. the way his hoodie is half-zipped, revealing the curve of his throat.

he crouches in front of you, drying your hands first.

‘you didn’t have to,’ you murmur.

he shrugs. but his hands linger.

‘you’re kind of important,’ he says, soft. like it’s not a big deal.

you look at him. really look.

his curls are damp. his eyes are tired but bright. his thumb is brushing along the back of your hand like he doesn’t want to stop touching you.

and you lean in first.

not much. just a little. but enough.

his breath catches, and he moves with you. quiet. slow. no rush.

his lips find yours like they’ve been waiting.

just the softest pressure. the rain still pattering outside. his hand resting against your jaw, thumb grazing your cheek like you might disappear if he doesn’t hold you right.

when you pull back, he stays close.

forehead to yours.

‘finally,’ he whispers.

and you smile.

epilogue::

he’s already seated when you get there.

hood up. headphones around his neck. hoodie sleeves bunched up on his forearms. curls peeking out messily. the most him he’s ever looked.

you stop in the aisle for a second, grinning.

‘you’re in the window seat?’ you tease.

he peeks up at you with that sleepy half-smile, eyes already warm.

‘wanted to watch the clouds. but i’ll trade if you want it.’

you shake your head and slide into the seat beside him. ‘nah. wanna lean on you.’

he makes a soft sound, half a chuckle, half a breath, and reaches for your hand almost immediately. it’s instinct, at this point. the way his fingers find yours without looking. the way his thumb brushes over your knuckles like he needs to remind himself you’re here. his.

you tuck your bag away, get comfortable, rest your head on his shoulder as the plane starts taxiing.

‘remember our first flight?’ you mumble.

he hums. ‘economy class. tragic.’

you laugh, sleepily. ‘you were grumpy.’

‘you held my hand during turbulence.’

‘you fell in love.’

he turns his head a little, presses his lips to your hair.

‘yeah,’ he says softly. ‘i did.’

you close your eyes, smile against his hoodie.

there’s no rush. no uncertainty. no almosts anymore. just his hand in yours, the hum of the engine, and the quiet thud of your hearts keeping time.

somewhere in the sky, between time zones and cloudlines, he whispers:

‘i’d sit in economy again if it meant meeting you.’

you don’t open your eyes. you just squeeze his hand and whisper back:

‘good thing you don’t have to.’

and he smiles, forehead resting against yours, while the plane lifts into the sky.

[rashomonss]

I couldn't stop thinking about this after reading your "Readjusting" hc

Imagine that the reason MC started acting like a "proper" attendant was because Barbatos couldn't stand how improper and casual Mc was with the brothers. He decides to take her under his wing but he isn't gentle about it, not even when it becomes clear that MC is human, on the contraire, he becomes harsher with his methods until even the brothers notice. Meanwhile MC could be in the state of mind to believe that they deserve to be treated in such ways because they feel guilty over letting everyone assume they were a demon

Also think about how this treatment would affect MC relationship with Barbatos. Imagine MC slipping up in front of him and immediately tensing and starting to apologize. How scared MC would be of even the thought of doing something NB!Barbatos though them was wrong and undignified of her to do/say as the brothers attendant.

And how heartbroken OM!Barbatos would be at seeing MC be so terrified of him.

so I’m currently deep diving thru my drafts and inbox and this was from forever ago so I’m so sorry I’m only getting it done now (,,Ծ‸Ծ,, )

anyway oh. my. god.

i absolutely love this idea! the angst potential this ask has is literally to die for. i’ll be incorporating a few of my readjusting ideas as well and yeah i know nightbringer didn’t go in this direction but im going in it anyway, so i hope yall enjoy! (๑>؂•̀๑)

you’re nothing more and nothing less

You admired yourself in the mirror then stared at the reflection looking back at you. 

Sighing you gave yourself a small smile, then remembered his words before giving yourself one last look in the mirror. 

“You really do look decent when you know how to clean up.” 

An attendant is supposed to look sharp, and presentable no matter the circumstance. They are a direct representation of who they’re serving. How was a noble demon supposed to take the seven rulers of hell seriously if their attendant didn’t even know how to properly dress or present themselves? 

Your tie had to be perfectly crisp and presentable, same with the cuffs of your uniform; not a wrinkle should be present. Next, your preferred uniform bottom was ironed with no wrinkle in sight, and your shoes shined to the point you could see your reflection. Each plead and fold was sharp, crisp, and perfect.

Your hair looked presentable and you carried out your normal face routine making sure you looked awake and ready for the day. Finally, you organized your belongings and sat them by your table in a neat fashion ready to be grabbed once you headed off to RAD. 

You then made your way to the kitchen and prepared breakfast for everyone as well as coffee and tea for those who usually required it. 

As you were finishing up most of the food Beel walked into the kitchen heading straight for the fridge. “Morning MC,” he said catching his breath. 

“Good Morning Beel, how was your run? Also, your snack is on the counter so please refrain from eating anything in the fridge,” you replied, as you continued cooking. 

“Oh thank you.” he smiled while closing the fridge. As he sat at the counter watching you cook he couldn’t help but become confused at the sight. “Wasn’t it Levi’s turn to make breakfast this morning?” 

“It was but he stayed up late last night, and I had a feeling he would oversleep so I took the liberty of making it myself. Not to worry though because I have nothing against cooking for all of you” 

Beel frowned in response “Yeah but this is the third day in a row you’ve prepared breakfast and dinner” 

“Is it now? Well I have no problems with it unless the rest of you do, I am your attendant after all.”

Beel stopped eating and frowned again, “MC you’re an exchange student from the human realm. You’re back home; there’s no reason for you to still act as our attendant.”

You didn’t respond, instead you finished up the food and began to plate each brothers breakfast. Beel tried to speak again but you cut him off.

“Apologies but could you do me a favor and wake up your brothers for breakfast? I wouldn’t want them to be late for classes.”

Beel gave you a sympathetic look and nodded just before leaving the kitchen.

You did stop to think about his words though. After all everything that happened in the past didn’t need to be continued in the present, you could go back to living how you normally did before.

The only problem was that you didn’t know how to go back to that carefree lifestyle. After being on edge constantly while being stuck in the past you found yourself adapting to that lifestyle. So breaking it all of a sudden was much harder than everyone understood.

Humans are adaptable creatures, they adapt and survive to whatever environment they are thrown into, no matter the circumstances; at least that’s how he explained it.

He drilled it into your head that if you wanted to survive against the best of the best you needed to be superior in every way. It didn’t matter to him if you were a demon or human, neither was an acceptable excuse for not being absolutely perfect.

This mindset had been engraved into your soul during the small time period you were there, so for everyone to just tell you to forget about it was something you couldn’t do even if you tried. They all needed to accept that this was how you were now; and maybe with due time you’ll revert back to your old self.

Numerous voices could be heard in the dining room causing you to snap out of your thoughts. You sighed and then took a deep breath before walking into the room with everyone’s plates.

“Good morning everyone, how’s are all of you?” You asked placing plates in front of each brother at the table.

“Mornin’ MC, I’m fine how are ya?” Mammon said yawning.

“I’m good thank you for asking, but I would be even better if you fixed your tie and shirt” you smiled, placing his food in front of him.

“Dah you sound like Lucifer…” he groaned. It did work however because he buttoned up his shirt and tightened his tie before eating, to which you smiled at him in response.

“That goes for all of you as well, fix your uniforms please.” you said, placing the last plate in Lucifer’s spot. Each groaned and fixed themselves as well before they began to eat.

A laugh was then heard from the doorway which made you look up in response. The oldest then greeted you with a kiss to the cheek before sitting down.

“I see your keeping them on a tighter leash than I am.” Lucifer said looked up at you.

“Well of course. How is anyone supposed to take the seven of you seriously when you don’t even wear the uniform properly.” The room fell silent and Lucifer raised an eyebrow. “Thank you MC, but you realize that you don’t have to worry about our images anymore. You know your home correct..? You don’t have to continue being our attendant.”

You sighed then spoke after a few minutes. “Thank you for your concern I appreciate it, but if you’ll excuse me I have to get the dishes clean”

“Wait you’re not having breakfast with us dear?” Asmo asked worried.

“You haven’t eaten with us at all since you came back. Come on MC, please?” Satan then said.

“I appreciate the concern but I already ate. Thank you for the offer though, I do appreciate it. Now if you’ll excuse me.”

“As their attendant you should not be eating with them unless permitted on a special occasion. It’s basic etiquette as a servant to eat in the kitchen. So you will eat when I eat. Understand?”

That phrase popped in you head again and you sighed heading towards the kitchen.

. . .

The walk to RAD was normal, for you at least, the brothers were a different story entirely.

They tried engaging with you or even walking next to you but you stayed silent and walked behind them.

Normally you’d walk at the same pace and would engage in any kind of small talk but ever since you returned walks to a from RAD had been awkward for the brothers.

Barbatos never walked next to Diavolo, and he taught you to do the same with the brothers.

“You aren’t from the same status, so you should take your place behind them as a result.”

That phrase played in your head as Mammon talked to you about his latest new scheme. You realized that he was walking at the same pace you were so you slowed down ever so slight and engaged in a bit of small talk with him.

The second born frowned as he saw you retreating again, so with a sigh he finished talking and walked a bit faster to catch up with the eldest.

You could see them shorting you glances and whispering to each other but neither said a word to you.

You understood they probably weren’t a fan of this behavior either, but it’s not as if you could break it anytime soon, after all what would he think if you were acting casual with everyone again?

. . .

“Good morning MC” Barbatos spoke, smiling as he slightly waved at you.

Upon seeing him your posture straightened up and you immediately greeted him back with a wave and a nod, in the same fashion he greeted you with. You held eye contact for a brief moment then looked over towards Lucifer.

“I believe we should head out now. There’s paperwork to be done. It was lovely running into you but we’ll be on our way now” you said to the butler.

Before he even had a chance to respond you grabbed Lucifer and dragged him through the hall leaving a confused Barbatos alone in the hallway.

Lucifer tried to question you about your behavior towards the butler but you always avoided talking about it.

Diavolo tried his hand as well and you had given him the same excuse you gave Lucifer. Sighing, the two decided to talk to you over tea instead, hoping that it might calm the mood.

So you followed Lucifer into the council room where Diavolo sat, waiting with a smile. The minute you saw him you smiled back, but soon tensed when Barbatos appeared behind him.

“Sit down MC” Diavolo gestured as soon as you reached the table.

You bowed slightly and did as you were told, making sure to keep yourself in line while Barbatos was present.

Barbatos from the past despised when you were casual with Lord Diavolo and shut down your relationship with him the second he took you as an apprentice.

As Diavolo began to speak you listened attentively and sat up straight making sure to hold eye contact just as Barbatos had instructed you to do before

“MC…” he started. “I understand that it's taken you awhile to try and readjust to everything again, and while we don’t want to pester your progress we do want to talk to you about a few things.”

Were you in trouble? Your heart sank to your stomach as you gripped your uniform bottoms under the table.

“What can I help you with then?” You asked.

“Well for starters you needn’t be so tense, we’re close after all! It’s okay to let loose around us” Diavolo smiled as he gestured towards Lucifer who nodded in response.

“I thank you for your concern, and I will try to relax as you asked” you then nodded.

Your formal response tugged at a frown on Diavolo’s face. “Thank you, now then let’s enjoy some tea.” he said, trying to quickly change the subject.

You froze on the spot as Barbatos brought out the cart of tea and a few snacks. Immediately you jumped up and helped him set the table, much to everyone’s surprise.

“MC, you can leave it to me.” Barbatos said after a moment.

“I understand” you nodded yet still continued picking up the tray of snacks and placing plates in front of Lucifer and Diavolo.

After you finished you stepped behind Barbatos, almost as if you were his shadow. With a sigh he turned to you and tried to ask you to sit back down but you refused.

So instead he tried to guide you to your seat and you stepped away from him in response, the further you took a step back the closer he took a step forward. It wasn’t until you hit the snack cart had you realized how close the two of you were.

However that was short lived as the dish holding the sugar fell off the cart and shattered on the floor the moment you hit it.

Your eyes went wide in horror and you fell to the floor to clean it up in an instant, muttering to yourself silently.

“MC, are you-“

“I’m so sorry, Lord Diavolo, I'll clean this up right away. Please forgive me” you said swiftly picking up the shattered glass and trying your best to clean everything.

“It’s okay, don’t worry it was an accident” Diavolo said as he got up to make sure you were okay.

You shook your head as you went back to cleaning. You were positive Barbatos was going to kill you, he made sure to let you know if you ever messed up in Lord Diavolo’s presence.

So when his figure loomed over you your body tensed with fear as you looked up at him. However his expression didn’t match what you assumed it would’ve been.

He looked concerned and bent down to inspect your hands, hoping there wasn’t any blood due to the shards of glass from the dish.

You immediately retracted your hand when you noticed a cut and Barbatos stiffened.

“I’ll clean this up right away, excuse me” you said as you jumped to your feet and ran out of the council room, leaving three very confused and concerned demons behind.

As the door flew open when you left Solomon walked in with a bewildered look as you rushed out. “What happened? Is everything okay?” He asked as his eyes followed your figure rushing down the hall.

“It’s MC,” Lucifer sighed.

“What about them?” Solomon questioned.

“Long story short they were helping Barbatos and dropped the sugar then bolted out of the room in a panic when Barbatos grabbed their hand to see if they were okay.” Diavolo said with a sigh.

“Ah, that explains things then.” Solomon nodded. “And Barbatos I would refrain from touching or even being near MC for the time being”

“And why is that?” Barbatos questioned with a frown.

“Because MC is probably still on edge after serving alongside you in the past. Let’s just say your methods weren’t exactly…ideal, for a human.” He sighed.

His heart broke upon hearing those words. Barbatos frowned upon learning he was the reason for their rigid behavior and unwillingness to open up to him or Lord Diavolo again.

“I understand,” he sighed.

“If we just talk to MC I’m sure they’ll understand-“ Diavolo started.

“You can, but they haven’t changed their behavior with the brothers so I doubt they change it now. I’ll talk to them when I see them again” Solomon sighed.

Lucifer made a sour expression upon hearing Solomon’s words, mainly because he knew they were true. After all he had spoken to MC countless times yet nothing has changed.

Solomon handed a few papers to Diavolo who read over them in surprise. “Cocytus Hall? That place hasn’t been used in ages, and you wish to move in there?”

“Yes, well Mc and I.” He nodded. “All the paperwork should be there if you’ll allow it”

Lucifer shot the sorcerer a glare and shook his head. “Is that really necessary? That’s quite the opposite of having MC adapt back to the present”

“On the contrary I didn’t suggest this. They did, and if it's what they want I don’t mind indulging my sweet apprentice” He smiled.

The three frowned at Solomon’s words. No matter how annoyed he made them, they all agreed that he was the only one you talked to like normal.

It wasn’t fair that he was the only one that got that attention from you. After a few more minutes of going back and forth Diavolo finally approved the idea, much to Lucifer’s protests.

It was just a thought but Diavolo hoped that if he did this you would eventually come back to them, and not the you that was terrified and uptight, he missed the carefree human who could brighten up the room.

With a sigh the room fell silent as Solomon left, all three demons were running out of ideas and the longer you avoided them the more painful it had become.

How long were they supposed to stay like this? They all wondered with tense sighs.

[devosin]

— LATE NIGHTS & FLASHING LIGHTS !! episode one : taco bell & shitty tuesdays . .

♡. Spotify playlist | Updates, every Friday !! — Vil Schoenheit x reader | Y/n pov . .

You stare at your phone screen, waiting for the phone call to end, and for the screen to fade to black—A sigh of relief escapes you as you finally hear the line close, the familiar sound of a phone call ending brings you such overwhelming relief, you'd think you just paid off a million dollars worth of nonexistent debt. 

You let yourself fall back on your chair, your publicist had landed you into another event you could care less about all in the name of publicity, and honestly you wish you had the heart to tell her, but you’re well aware that Jean only wants the best for her clients, and each decision had a reason behind it . . —But who the hell goes to a dolphin event anyways?—They’re like the cruelest sea animal!

You stretch your arms, and stare at the pile of clothes spread at the top of your bed and floor. It was the first day on set, nothing major would be happening, only meeting the crew and learning of the plans for the show—and you’d like to make a good impression—anything below show stopping would be an insult to yourself . . and your stylist who suggested a bunch of outfits with the clothes you now have on your bed and floor. 

You let out another sigh, wishing you could just fall back asleep instead of dealing with whatever it is you got yourself signed up to, “I should take a shower”, you mumble to nobody in particular. 

Time: 10:32 am Location: Y/n’s Car

You stir the car into the drive thru of some random Taco Bell that fell on the highway—Normally taco bell for breakfast isn't ideal, and in all honesty will never be your ideal . .  It's a bold move to take the most diarrhea-inducing meal right before a first time cast meeting, but when life gives you taco's, one must oblige. 

Time: 11:43 am Location: Y/n’s Car 

You had parallel parked your car somehow—To be fair ninety percent of the time you park your car with hopes and prayers, and sometimes you forget to fill your gas up entirely, which proves to be really annoying since it's a three hour drive to the capital city where you film mainly, and you have to drive there a lot . .  Your parents would be ashamed to see your yearly towing costs due to a forgetful gas repayment. 

You always seem to assume that somehow the distance to get to your designated location will magically change into a couple minutes and won't waste your gas as much, which quite literally never works, but are you going to learn from your mistakes? . . Most likely not. 

You stretch your arms one more time, taking a few deep breaths and a sip of your drink, before you finally grab your tote bag and head into the studio. 

Time: 11:52am Location: Inside the studio 

A shiver racked over your body the moment you entered the studio—'Dear seven it's fucking cold in here'—you thought, mentally noting that you should ask Amanda when you meet her if there was a way to turn up the heater, it’s literally winter . .  they can’t expect you to film in this situation right? 

As if on instinct a distinct cheery voice could be heard from the farther corner of the room, "Y/n!! You're here", a petite brunette makes her way up to you . .  way too energetic for this early in the morning, "Hi, Amanda", you greet her, a bit awkwardly, not knowing how to exactly approach the conversation. 

“Yes! That’s me, we're just setting up right now, I’m so glad you came.”, she smiled, “You can put your bags on that chair over there, we're just getting a few things sorted, so feel free to introduce yourself to everyone.”. 

"Omg, it's so great to finally see you! . . and like meet you", she seemed so excited, for some weird reason, her energy rubbed off on you, easing your nerves, "Sorry if I'm late, traffic was horrendous", you mumbled, “that’s completely fine, you live further out East right?”, she asked curiously, and you watched as she fiddled with her clipboard checking off random things. 

“Yeah”, you reply dryly, shoving your hands in your pockets, “It’s usually a three hour drive, it took four today”, she nodded along, “Well, if you’re hungry we have snacks in that room”, she points to one of the random staff rooms, “You and Vil will be sharing a dressing room, if you don't mind—If you do I can totally work something out!”, she quickly corrects herself. 

“No it’s completely fine”, you smile, it wouldn’t be the first time, a lot of films on a shorter budget opts to have actors sharing a dressing room, and this is the first ever late night show for the company, you wouldn’t be surprised if sorting things out is already eating a chunk away at the budget set in placed.  

“Speaking of Vil . . Where is he?”, you ask, looking around curiously at the room, you see a bunch of other staff members and crew, who wave hi to you and you wave back. You’ll have to greet them properly later, but you’ll put that to a back burner until your social battery recovers to its full level. 

“Vil?”, she stands in place, thinking for a couple seconds, “He left an hour ago”, you raise a brow, “He came like really early in the morning, said he was getting breakfast and had a meeting, and that he’d be back . . maybe . .  soon?”, she walks around, throwing some pointers to some of the crew . .  it looked like gang signs but the crew understood so who are you to judge, “Honestly I don’t remember much.”, she whispered to you, like it was a secret of some kind, “But . . I did plan a meeting between the two of you tomorrow, you’ll be meeting at this cafe, it’s really private and I booked the area so you guys can comfortably talk about the show, if that’s alright with you?” 

“That’s great actually!”, you smiled, that just gives you one less thing to worry about.

Amanda is actually just a random character based off of no one in particular, I felt like a really sweet manager would be really fun <3

Taco bell . . . no y/n's were harmed in this process (They had pepto bismol in the car dw)

Previous chapter | Masterlist | Next chapter . .

— LATE NIGHTS & FLASHING LIGHTS !! ♡. Synopsis : VIL SCHOENHEIT recently signed a contract under Descendant. Inc for his very own late night show, only to find out his co-star and fellow co-host is none other than Y/n L/n, someone he hates despite knowing very little about them and never having met them, previously. Y/N L/N, an actor who made their debut 3 years ago and hasn’t been able to catch a break since, recently decided to sign a deal with Descendants. Inc to host their new late night show “late nights & flashing lights”, as a break from acting . . Only to find out their favorite long-time actor will be co-hosting with them. Tune in every Friday, for a new episode of “late nights & flashing lights” to see if these two hosts can find a peaceful work-bond amidst their judgements . . and quite possibly even love? . .

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© devosin , do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work without prior permission and or confirmation.

[finsplurtz]

nobody’s home — choso.kamo

— dom ! male.reader x sub ! Choso Kamo

— contents : step-cest , touching w/o consent uh oh , Choso tries to tell yn to stop but gives in bc he loves the feeling , handjob , biting n hickeys , mention of virginity loss n Choso does cry abt it , does change his mind abt it nd ends up rlly liking it , praises n degrading lolll

warnings : step cest obv , maybe.. r4pe implications not sure wtv

✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮

Choso’s mother had divorced his father and she found a boyfriend who already had a kid.

The first time they met was … interesting. He got home from hanging out with some friends, he greeted his mom and step-dad, went into the bathroom and quickly backed out closing the door.

He covered his face, he had walked in to some guy shirtless in the bathroom. He went to ask his mom and she told him that, yn, was his new younger brother.

When they saw each other after that he apologized.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to you know…” yn smirked checking the guy out while he wasn’t looking.

“It’s cool, we’re both guys. Nothing to be embarrassed about” He flashed a smile before leaving to his room.

Yn was younger than Choso by 3-4 years.

Choso definitely caught onto the subtle hints that yn was throwing his way. Yn would sometimes invite him to watch a movie or something, he’d get super cuddly and touchy.. like have his arm wrapped around his waist or have his hand slowly massage his thigh.

Sometimes when they’d be out yn would insist on buying Choso a drink, or even smoking together or something, but he always found a way to make it sound intimate.

Maybe Choso was going crazy.. maybe yn was just really trying to have a nice sibling bonding moment and Choso was taking it the wrong way..

Okay enough of turning yn’s offers down, he definitely just wants to be close brothers.

“Hey, ‘oso. Mom and dad wanted to ask you something” yn popped into Choso’s room and went over to sit on his bed and handed him the phone. Usually his parents called on yn’s phone, since sometimes Choso doesn’t answer cs he’s busy studying or sleeping.

“Hey hon, just wanted to let you know we won’t be home till very late! It’s our 1 year anniversary and we have a lot planned” Choso hummed while yn took whatever book Choso was reading and skimming thru it.

He sighed and put the book back. Gently pulled Choso down towards the bed and cuddled him. Choso was still listening to his mom talk and talk but he wasn’t paying attention. His heart was pounding in his chest.

yn had his leg over Choso’s waist and arm over his chest. Choso could feel yn’s warm breath on his neck, his lips were an inch away from Cho’s skin.

Finally his mom ended the call and Choso was frozen.

“…uh…here’s your phone..” He said.

“Just put it on the counter or something” yn said in a low voice right under Choso’s ear. “….what are u doing”

“…nobody’s home, oso..~” Choso could practically hear yn’s smirk.

“Have you ever touched a guy..?” his hand gently massaged over Choso’s chest.

“…n-no…yn I- I don’t think this is…” Choso pushed yn’s arm away and managed to sit up.

“Mm..awww cmon.. we’re alone, nobody can walk in on us..” yn looked at his half brother with low eyes.

“S..still it’s just..w-wrong—“ Choso flinched when he felt yn tightly wrap his arm around Choso’s waist to keep him from squirming and dug his hands into Choso’s pants.

“y-yn..?! S..stop I don’t…!” His breath hitched when yn began to stroke him. Choso’s nails were digging into yn’s arm trying to squirm away or something. yn rested his chin on his brother’s shoulder and continued to fap him.

“Ngh..! Mhhnn…~ s….stop..” Choso was panting and subconsciously grinding his hips into his brothers hand. He threw his head back exposing his neck, yn saw the opportunity and began to kiss and suck on Choso’s pale skin.

“Ahh~ f..fuck…~” Choso’s grip on yn’s arm loosened and he brought one hand up to cover his mouth.

“See…you love it, don’t you…~” yn whispered into the ravenette’s ear. Choso just whined, he didn’t really care anymore. Plus yn had a point, nobody would ever catch them doing this. It’s not like they were even related…

yn sped up his pace and stroked faster while sinking his sharp teeth into Choso’s neck.

“Ah- ah I’m gonna c..come—“ Choso gasped and grabbed onto yn’s hair tightly as he came and made a mess in his briefs. “Fuuuckk…s..so good~” He whimpered as his dick twitched in yn’s hand.

yn slid his arm off Choso’s waist and pulled his pants off along with his underwear. He easily lied him down on the bed and used the finger that had his cum on it to finger him.

“..nnnyooo…d..don’t….” Choso was too dizzy to put up a fight anymore. He just let out more moans and cries when yn found his prostate and massaged his fingers over it.

yn stroked himself, he loved the view. Choso’s pretty little hole being slowly opened by his fingers, just ready to take his cock..

yn pulls his fingers out and quickly pushed himself into Choso earning a gasp and whine from him.

“S-shit..! Y..you…” Choso felt tears welling up in his eyes, he wasn’t sure how to feel….

yn noticed and rolled his eyes. He leaned down to kiss Choso’s cheek.

“Don’t worry….your brother is gonna make you feel good..~” Choso blushed and screamed when said brother began to roughly thrust into him hitting him right in his g spot.

“UGHN-! F-FUCK TOO MUCH..!”Choso felt a tad bit overstimulated, but fuck did it feel good.

“Aww..look at you just taking my cock so well, hm?~ you love it…you love how well your little brother stuffs you, don’t you, prince..~” Choso moaned at yn’s dirty talk, he was so into this. He loved every second of this and he didn’t want it to ever stop.

“Right, Choso..?” He loved how his name sounded in yn’s mouth, he let out a slutty moan and smiled as best as he could.

“Mm..hm..~!” yn smirked and began to kiss Choso’s shoulder and back.

“Such a good little slut..” yn felt himself get close and stuttered in his thrusts.

Choso felt his second orgasm nearing, he gripped the sheets and stuck his tongue out, rolling his eyes back.

“You’re all mine…my stupid toy..just for me to fuck, m…mkay..~?” Yn said into Choso’s ears pushing him over the edge.

“Mhnn-!!” Choso bit his tongue as he came one more time making a mess of his sheets. A smile creeped on his face at the feeling of yn’s hot semen coat his warm mushy walls in white.

They were both catching their breaths and yn sat up and slick his hair back looking at the art he ..

“……I…I’m sorry, cho’…” He pulled out and turned Choso on his back who just looked at him. Choso had drool and tear stains on his face, his lips red from biting them.

“I’m…so sorry..” The regret sitting in the pit of yn’s stomach. It quickly left when Choso pulled him down by his neck into a warm embrace.

“..’m your stupid toy…” Choso whispered smiling to himself. He didn’t regret this.

Yn sighed and returned the hug.

“..sure”

a/n ; I’ve always hated anything like step cest or inc*st it’s yuck but idk Choso being so big brother n shi kinda possessed me into writing this sorry xx

[mingisongs]

𓇢𓆸 solace in us

ateez! song mingi x reader ᡣ𐭩

summary; your boyfriend comforts you thru health concerns and fertility issues

pairing; song mingi x afab!reader

word count; 2.2k

tags; comfort, fluff, grief

trigger warnings; infertility, reproductive illness !!

notes; personal to me — ♡

ᡣ𐭩

my dream had always been to be a mother.

and after meeting mingi, that desire grew into an aching need. the thought of us blossoming into such a testament of our love as that filled me with not only joy for my own dream, but euphoria at the thought of getting to be the person who makes him a father. he was young, i was young, but i had never met anyone with as much love to give as he did, and i felt in my heart that he could and would be the best parent.

he was aware that i was no longer on any form of contraceptive, and while we weren’t purposefully trying to conceive, we weren’t actively trying to prevent it. it wasn’t really a thought for either of us, and the way we were intimate was never careless nor with the sole intent to get pregnant. but we both shared the idea that we wanted a family together in the future, and my greatest hope was that i would be able to surprise him with the news that he was going to be a father.

i sat beside him on my couch, my chin resting against my knees as my thighs were brought up to my chest. he was sleepily watching the movie we’d put on an hour prior, but my drowsy eyes could only focus on him. he was unaware of my staring at him, and i giggled quietly, causing his attention to turn to me.

“what?” he asked, blissfully ignorant to the fact that i hadn’t been paying a bit of attention to the TV. his bare, clear skin without makeup adorning his eyelids, playful concern spreading across his face as i struggled to answer. i shook my head, unsure of why the bliss i felt was causing me to laugh.

“i just love you,” i said softly.

his bashfulness caused the soft pink of his cheeks to darken, while i knew he wasn’t shy about his affection, but just flustered when i professed my adoration for him unprompted. he reached out, pulling me against him, and i snuggled closer into his chest. his scent was so comforting, welcoming, him. i hated the way that his presence made me sleepy from how safe i felt, because i wanted nothing more than to stay awake 24/7 showering him with kisses and praise.

he pressed a kiss to the top of my head. “i love you more than anything.” another kiss, his lips against my hair longer this time. “anything.”

we fell asleep on the couch that night.

•

the next day, i was sat on the bathroom floor. i was struggling to keep quiet, but devastation was debilitating me, and stifling my sobs was becoming more and more difficult by the second. mingi was still here at my apartment, but he was in the other room, and in his usual fashion i knew he was waiting patiently impatient for me to return.

it was the fourth time my late period came with not one, but two negative pregnancy tests, and the knowledge i had of my cycle had made it almost impossible for the timing to have been wrong. i wrapped the plastic tests in toilet paper and shoved them down into the trash can, and stood up to wipe my eyes. splashing my face with cold water, wiping my nose, trying to convince myself it was okay, nothing helped. every time i felt a sliver of peace, it was broken with the reality of the circumstances. it took forever to catch my breath and gain the courage to return to mingi’s side.

when i opened the bathroom door, however, he was standing directly behind it, staring at me with a worry and fear i had never seen in his eyes before.

“what’s wrong?” he asked. “you were crying?”

i felt paralyzed, my blood frozen cold in my veins. we were both too nervous to speak.

he finally reached out, taking my hand in his. “please, please tell me.”

i didn’t want to speak, it felt as though i couldn’t. “i… i’m sorry for worrying you —”

he reached up to wipe a tear from under my eye. “talk to me. that’s what i’m here for.”

“my… my period was late,” i stuttered out. “but i took two tests and they were negative.” my voice broke at the end of my sentence. i hated that i felt so broken up over this. his love and his presence was more than enough, my happiness wasn’t reliant on being a mother.

“oh,” he pulled me into him, breathing out a sigh of relief and sadness. “baby, it’s okay.”

“no, it’s not,” i sniffed. “i feel so broken.”

“you’re not broken.” he rubbed my back and he squeezed me tighter. “you are so perfect.”

i cried into his shirt for a while longer, and as perfect as he is, he was there with me until i got through it.

•

my new doctor had ordered testing. they wouldn’t have been as concerned, if symptoms outside of not getting pregnant hadn’t also been present. bloodwork, ultrasounds, MRIs. the results were all to be discussed with my doctor at once, and i waited anxiously as the days passed before i met with her.

mingi clutched my hand, rubbing his fingers on my skin reassuringly, my knee bouncing rapidly. i had protested him being present for this appointment, yet he expressed the need to be there for me, and while he respected me immensely, i decided that his accompaniment would be beneficial in the long run. and i was right, as the news delivered by my doctor made my brain pull the parachute cord, and i was outside my body for the entirety of our conversation.

if he was upset, he masked it well, as he held my hand and took care of speaking to the doctor on my behalf. it was hard for me to cry in the presence of medical professionals, so i was frozen, the lump in my throat aching so bad i thought i might throw up. the doctor’s professionalism came across as apathetic, though the sadness in her eyes at having to share the results with me was apparent. bicornuate uterus, external endometrial adhesions, fallopian blockage, hydrosalpinx… she couldn’t fathom how the pain was tolerable for me, or how these things hadn’t been caught sooner. she was apologetic. she said she was sorry the health care system and medical industry had failed me. she said we could discuss other treatment options at a later date when i was ready. for now i was being put on a form of birth control, hormonal drug, contraceptive to help the symptoms and shrink the growths.

back in the car, mingi held me, and i cried.

•

when we returned home, my heart broke at my inability to be present for mingi, but i went straight to bed. i laid down, my blinds closed and the lights out, and covered myself with my blanket. it was cold in my apartment, beginning to rain outside, and i knew that the cool air would be a comfort as my tears burned my face.

the hum of the air conditioning overpowered the sound of footsteps, and i was startled by mingi joining me in bed.

“you don’t have to -”

“i want to,” he interrupted.

his arms slid around me from behind, pulling me close into being his little spoon, and he held me tight, resting his hand under my shirt, right on my lower belly between my hips.

as soon as his warm fingers spread across my skin, i couldn’t stop the tears. he pressed a kiss to my back, his forehead against my shoulder. “i wish i could take your pain away.”

i sniffed. “i’m glad that you don’t have to.”

his lips were warm against my skin, his voice soft and quiet. “baby, i hate to see you in pain.”

i struggled to speak. “i won’t be able to make you a father.”

i felt him take a shaky breath, and he gently grabbed my arm to turn me over and face him. he had taken so much initiative and cared for me so much in the short while that i’d been struggling, so i didn’t resist when he wanted to speak to me directly. i just didn’t want to see his face knowing i was causing him to cry.

but when i looked at him, he was giving me the saddest smile, tears welling in his eyes. “and i won’t be able to make you a mother,” he said, touching my face gently. “it’s not your fault. i wish so badly that i could give you the same.” he leaned forward to kiss my forehead. “but we have so much time and so many options.”

i felt unworthy of such love and kindness. “it makes me feel so worthless,” i said. “i knew something was wrong. i just didn’t expect it to be that bad. i didn’t expect my body to be that fucked up.”

he traced his thumb along my cheekbone to wipe a tear away. “it’s not fucked up. nothing about you is fucked up. it is not your fault.” he kissed my nose. “today, i love you more than i ever have. and there is nothing worth more than your love to me.”

•

he wasn’t in bed when i woke up the next day. i figured he had stepped out briefly for something, but i didn’t question or worry. he had a habit of leaving without waking me if he thought he’d be back before i got up for the day.

i checked the time, though, and it was almost noon. i sleep a lot when i’m sad. and i sleep so deep. i could barely keep my eyes open.

mingi held me all night, until i was able to relax. my heart still ached so heavily in my chest. but the panic was gone. i was left with exhaustion and absolute despair. it wasn’t because i felt like my purpose was to be a mother, or that my happiness relied on it, or that i was failing mingi. it was because i was sick, my body was broken, and i had a chronic disease inside of me that made my future unclear and scary.

that was the worst of it. the infertility was just the icing on that cake.

i heard the front door open, and got tense at the same time that i felt comfort from mingi’s return. he was quiet as he moved about the kitchen, his movements gentle and silent for — what i KNEW was — my sake. he would’ve parted the seas for me, had i asked.

i didn’t hear him walking towards the bedroom, yet i heard the sound of a small bell jingling, and stayed still to listen closer. it couldn’t have been his keys, but i was unsure as to what it could’ve been otherwise. i hadn’t heard a sound like it before.

just as i sat up, a little gray and white kitten with a bell hanging from her collar came running into the room.

my mouth immediately fell open in shock, throwing the blankets off of me to join the kitten on the floor. i got to my knees to get a closer look, and behind the kitten followed my sweet mingi.

i looked up at him in awe, and he grinned happily.

“you didn’t,” i said. he joined me on the floor, crossing his legs, sitting right beside me.

he lifted the kitten up and set it in my lap, and i held my hands up, unsure what to do, but the little baby curled up on my lap and stared up at me, bright blue eyes looking calm and curious.

“it’s a girl,” he said. “i had been wanting to surprise you for a while but… after yesterday, i figured it was the right time.”

“oh, mingi,” i whispered, reaching down to pet her. she immediately began purring and leaning into my touch. seeing her up close, i realized her collar was a pink bow, the little gold bell jingling quietly with every movement. i looked back at mingi. he was looking back at me with such love, but also waiting intently to hear about how i felt. “i love you so much. i don’t know what to say.”

“are you happy?” he asked, his concern for my wellbeing so endearing i wanted to melt.

i nodded, reaching out to pull him in, and kiss him softly on his lips. “i am so happy. this is the most amazing thing you could’ve done for me.” i took his face in both hands, looking him in the eyes. “i love you.” another kiss.

he laughed quietly, kissing me back.

“so many things are uncertain,” he said. “and all we can do is wait it out. but i hope that one thing you never question is how much i love you. how in love with you i am.” he reached out to pet the kitten in my lap. “and now, she can be a testament to that.”

he became engrossed in petting her, talking to her sweetly, but i couldn’t look away from him. he was so loving, and so giving, and so perfect. it would take me an infinite amount of lifetimes to ever begin to repay him and it still wouldn’t be enough. i would be forever indebted to his selfless devotion, yet all he asked for in return was my presence. my affection. my love.

and song mingi will forever own my heart. ♡

[pcheyes]

the music god from your pre calculus class

pairing: anton x fem reader

genre: fluff, strangers to friends ??

warnings: none

synopsis: the person who sits in your seat before you always puts music recommendations in the calculator, and you’re dying to know who it is

word count: 638

song suggestions: somethin stupid-frank sinatra

you walked into your pre calculus class and sat down. immediately you notice the calculator.

it isnt a fancy calculator, its just a school provided one, with a creepy eye drawing in the back. but everyday someone in the class before you types a song recommendation.

COME THRU-H.E.R.

everyday you try and get to class early to find the elusive person with the really good music taste, but you never catch them. you ask around for who sits there but they all laugh and walk away. you pull out your phone and go to spotify to add yet another song to your playlist called “randos music recommendations”. the playlist ranged from rnb, classical, jazz, to kpop. you continue the class trying to take notes but your mind wanders so you listen to his song from yesterday

FEATHER-SABRINA CARPENTER

‘who’s this person who leaves these songs?’

‘are they hot?’

‘what if im hallucinating all these songs?’

the bell rings and you walk to your next class, listening to the new song. 

⊹☾⋆⁺₊🎧✩°｡

today you were determined.

and you had a plan

you would fake sick to get a pass to the nurses office before your calculus class, and you would creep towards the room and look in to see who sits there. the time came to fake cramps to go to the nurses office and when you did you made a beeline to the calculus class. theres a window peaking into the class so you decided to watch from there. you scope the classroom to find your seat and the mysterious music god who blesses you every day.

and when you do.

oh god you almost slipped from the stool you were standing on because he was beautiful. he had his headphones on and was working on the problem. the class period was ending so he started typing his song recommendation for the day. his friends came over and started talking to him. 

“dude are you ever gonna face her? these song thingies were sweet at first but its getting sad. you always relace your shoes and stretch so you can get out before she comes. i’ve been saying i dont know you for a solid week now” his friend said as he scoffed “sohee what the heck!” the headphone boy said (you had named him that once you saw his headphones) “what ever. i need a headstart, i think i heard her friends say shes sprinting to calc today. i cant take any chances.” he starts stretching and relacing his shoes. the bell rings and he runs out the class. you grab your bag and run after him. he ends off at the orchestra hall and you yank him by his backpack. he yelps and locks eyes with you.

“i finally found you, you music god!” you say out of breath.

he laughs “oh goody!”

“dude who the hell says oh goody” 

“sorry” he says. “look i’m late for my orchestra practice so could you just uh, god you’re really pretty, look at the calculator and call it a day” 

you pull out a market and motion for him to stick out his forearm. he gives it to you and you write your number on his forearm. 

“make sure to send all your song recommendations to me. my ears are blessed after your beautiful songs or something.” his cheeks turn a deep scarlet. “oh uh yeah sure sure i’ll send it to you totally.” you nod and start walking away. suddenly he shouts after you “your hair looks really pretty today! not that it doesnt look pretty every day, i just like the slick back in the front, with the little curls in the front. it frames your face really well. makes you look extra beautiful.” you smile back at him.

“thanks music boy”

authors note: we need to bring back loser anton, he hasnt been his loser self since love 119. but i actually do this everyday in maths class and someone caught me leaving the class late and screamed “ITS THE MUSIC GIRL !!” but thanks to @chlorinecake and @kairoot for the songs !!

taglist: @unikivrse msg or comment to be added

feedback, reblogs, and comments are greatly appreciated

[sleepymothafterhours]

Rough day made rougher

Inspired by @indiewritesxoxo! (hi this is my side blog!) I love her cyberbully!sukuna series so much and i think everyone should go read all her works right now(that is your homework)

Divider Credits: @cafekitsune

Synopsis: After a rough day at work you just wanna wind down by playing your favorite game with your favorite guy, but hwat happens when he gets a little too mean and drives you over the edge :(

Warnings: mean Kuna, Bully!Sukuna, lmk if theres anything else

Word Count: 1080 Full fic under the cut, check sleepy moths after thoughts at the end for more <3

Thirty more minutes. That's what you kept telling yourself at least. Thirty more minutes and you could get in your car and speed home, get in your pajamas(and away from this cold, wet, and stupid drive thru window). you could make hot chocolate and sit at your desk and play your game to get your mind off it.

Though playing alone is never that much fun, you wonder if Sukuna will log on tonight when he always does. After months of him helping you learn the mechanics, you could finally get through a match without him raging(very much) at you.

Your thirty years minutes of torture ended with a screaming customer, you biting back a few tears and your boss telling you could leave. You grabbed your bag leaving with a quick "Bye!" not saying much else as you walked out to your car. On your phone were a few messages, none really that important until you got to a text from Sukuna asking if you were gonna be on tonight.

The drive home was loud, your playlist from work screaming in your ears but it was nice. And as you finally pulled into your driveway you sat for a moment to collect yourself before going inside and getting ready for sleep. Your cat was in your business like she always was whenever you got home from work, but in the end after a few pats and holding her for a few minutes she let you go free. Comfy in your pajamas you could finally sit down to play, in your haze getting home you had neglected to text him back and when you got on found an invite sitting in your games almost immediately. "Eager much?" You teased when you joined, it was just you, you adjusted his volume so that you could hear him just fine when he spoke, but so he wouldn't blow your eardrums out whenever he inevitably raged at the game. You'd come to enjoy the little ritual you had, so it did sting a little whenever Sukuna responded with a sharp, "Please. Figured you'd need my help again. As usual."

You gave him a witty, "What was that about needing your help?" When you got the first few kills in your first match.

"Yeah yeah your okay. You're welcome." He grumbled into his headset. It was almost enough to get your mind off of what a shit day you had at work, at least now you could do something right. Round after round you seemed to just get worse. Just an off day you could've guessed but Sukuna's constant teasing and yelling was starting to get you. "DUDE. Fucking seriously what is this guy doing." His yelling made you flinch and you realized he was talking about you but hadn't realized it was you. "Jesus fuck dude needs to uninstall." He grumbled. "Sukuna." you snipped as your character got hit. "That was me." You said a little hurt edging into your tone. He gave you a shit excuse and moved on. Once the match ended you couldn't help how you were feeling.

"Sorry you're bad tonight." He said before the next match started.

"Jesus asshole. I know I'm the fuckin' worst. " Thoughts of work flooded your mind, and you just wanted to curl up in bed and forget it. Alt-f4. Without thinking you left the game, you'd get penalized for going afk mid round but you just couldn't handle him tonight. your phone buzzed almost immediately, bombarded by texts from him.

Kuna 💖👹: Dude? Where tf r u?

You: WiFi shut out. Prob wont get back on 2nite, its been shit lately.

Kuna💖👹: Great maybe you'll quit fuckin up my rr.

You put your phone on do not disturb right after that, your computer was on, the mouse hovering right over the delete button. You thought it was stupid to delete a game over some guy. You went to sleep shortly after logging off. You ignored Sukuna for days after that, he hardly reached out really unless it was to see if you'd be on tonight, you gave him a shit excuse every time, "working", "busy", "Don't feel good." the last one wasn't necessarily a lie, you had caught the stomach flu in your two months of silence, and you had been working a lot but not enough for this much silence. After awhile he'd started checking up on you a lot more, asking if you felt better before asking if you were down to game. You kept telling him no until he called you on the way home from work one day.

"Why haven't you been playing?" He growled into the phone. "I've been busy. Don't you have someone better to be playing with?" You said, "Dude I'm driving call me back."

"Promise you're getting on tonight." He said

"Unlike you I have a life outside this game which means homework. I can't play."

"Come on! I'm sorry okay! Whatever you're mad about 'm sorry." He said, his tone changing from that harsh one he normally used to something softer, maybe he had missed you.

"You get 30 minutes." You said before hanging up.

You gave him his 30 and he was almost pleasant, he was definitely containing himself but he was pleasant. You stayed in the call when the thirty was up, your body on autopilot after another long day.

"I am sorry ya know." He said, cutting you off after a moment.

"What?" You asked,

"What I said was mean. I might have missed playing with you. You're the only one who actually matches me." You chuckled.

"Well I had a good teacher." You said softly as you adjusted your headphones. "I should go do homework. I'll be on tomorrow 'kay?"

"Does that mean I'm forgiven." He said

You were quiet for moment, so quiet he almost thought you had left already.

"Buy the new skin bundle for me and I'll consider forgiving you." You said, it was a long shot and you fully expected him to say not before the exact amount of credits you needed was being gifted to you by one "Kingofcurses". "Holy shit. Can I have this new vandal skin to-"

"Okay brat don't fucking push it." He said hanging up on you before you could ask for anything else.

Your phone dinged as you started working.

Kuna💖👹: for the record I had that leftover and didn't want the bundle.

You: Yeah yeah love you too Kuna

Sleepy Moths After thoughts: GAWD I LOVE CYBER BULLY SUKUNA ‼️‼️‼️

ALL MY HOMIES LOVE THE CYBER BULLY SUKUNA SERIES

Go give @indiewritesxoxo some love her series is to die for 💋🫶🏻

uhhhhh Idk what else I just had a lot of fun writing this out

also in my head they played Valorant (cus im a loser) together but I tried to keep it obscure enough so you can all imagine what game they're planning yourselves

night!

-Sleepy Moth

Pretty Please don't repost anywhere else <3

[lexirosewrites]

Mafia au pt 3

Sorry I know it's coming to you late but the last week for crazy for me

After going thru the entirety of Richards documents Steve asks Eddie if he would mind setting up a meeting with all of the superiors in the "family"

Eddie asks if Steve is sure because he'll be alone in a large room of just alpha males and male betas that worked their way up

Steve waves off his worry and says how he will be okay and Eddie needs to trust him he knows what he's doing, he promises to be careful

When the meeting takes place everyone is in for a big surprise

Everyone is seated and waiting for the omega who called the meeting and are laughing that this young omega thinks he has any power over them. Steve enters the room in a very nice suit and carrying several folders under his other arm. Everyone is curious as to what is in the folders

Steve starts off with handing out copies of his DNA test showing that he is in fact Richards child, next he kicks the Hagan family out of the business because they've been working with other mob families and actively selling secrets and resources, plus they've been killing other of their own family members to make it up in the business

Finally Steve admits he's known about this little operation for a lot longer than he let on. Plus he knows the accident that killed his mother and crippled him was no accident and was in fact an inside job. He plans on finding out who was behind it and will get his revenge then leave the family and they can fight each other for the top honor of boss.

One of the other much older males laughs at Steve when he says that if anyone has any information that can share it with Steve to avoid a similar sentence, he says how Steve's just a stupid crippled omega and let the power go to his head

Steve shoots him in the knees then leaves the room reminding them all that they're all on his hit list and suspects until he learns the full truth

I want to plan more but I'm struggling a little bit with what else I want to happen because I have so many ideas but I know not all of them will work the best together for this story. Also sorry that this one is so short, like I said this past week has been super crazy for me hopefully next week won't be as bad

scary omega Steve🥰

[danikamariewrites]

Could I request a Cassian x reader fic where reader is having trouble sleeping so Cassian takes her on a night drive to help her sleep please? And maybe a little ddlg undertones :)

Late Night Drive

Modern!Cassian x reader

Notes: this was so cute and I’ve been giggling and kicking my feet thinking about this for days now

Warnings: kinda ddlg (if you squint)

Throwing yourself on the couch with a huff you lean against Cassian’s arm. His gaze with the TV doesn’t break, his concentration on the video game he’s playing with his brothers. Letting out another tired sigh and pressing into him harder, Cassian finally notices you.

“Hey sweetheart, I thought you were going to sleep?” He asks in a gentle tone. Another sigh leaves your lips, “I was trying but I can’t fall asleep. My eyes hurt so bad.” You rub at them as a yawn breaks up the last of your words.

Cassian kisses the top of your head letting out a sympathetic groan. “I’m sorry baby. Gimme one second and I’ll help you, ok.”

You nod, still clinging to his arm. You heard him say something into the headset connected to the controller, but all thoughts were drowned out as you focused on his fingers. Letting your thoughts run wild. No, too tired, you think to yourself.

Powering everything down, Cassian turns to pull you into his lap, cradling you to his chest. “Why can’t you fall asleep baby?”

You shrug, “I dunno. I just keep tossing and turning.” A thoughtful hum sounds from your boyfriend. The vibration from his chest soothing you.

“I have an idea,” Cassian whispers. “How about we go for a drive and get some french fries. We haven’t done that in a while.” You give him the biggest smile your tired body can muster. “Sounds perfect.”

Five minutes later you’re wearing one of Cassian’s hoodies and your slippers as he buckles you into the passenger seat. Reclining the seat a little, Cassian leaves a small peck on your forehead.

During the drive Cassian puts on the radio at a low volume. He doesn’t want you getting too pumped up and start jamming out. As he pulls up to the drive-thru you cling to his arm, kicking your feet a little.

“Excited for your snack,” Cass teases lightly. You let out a small uh-huh as you patiently wait for him to order. Once he sets the fires in the cup holders you dive right into yours (not without stealing one or two from Cassian’s).

During the rest of the drive Cass keeps one hand on your thigh, tracing small patterns on your skin with his thumb. It was relaxing. The softness of the radio combined with Cassian’s light touch finally had your eyes closing. You had a fleeting thought to fight your exhaustion, not wanting to miss a moment with your boyfriend.

But it had been hours, you knew he’d take care of you when you finally drifted off. “Love you,” you mumble as your eyes finally close and it becomes a chore to keep talking. “I love you more, sweetheart.” Cassian whispered, leaning over the middle console to press another soft kiss to your forehead.

Pulling back into the driveway a little past midnight, Cassian peeks over at your sleeping form. Turning the car off Cass quietly gets out to open your door. Brushing the loose hairs back from your forehead, holding your serene looking face in his large hands.

Scooping you up and carrying you inside he creeps up to the bedroom. Tucking you in, Cassian gives your forehead one last kiss, whispering, “Night baby. I love you.”

Cassian settles in next to you. He watches you for a while. All your little movements and sighs are so perfect to him. Just as Cass is about to fall asleep he feels your arm across his stomach. Cracking an eye open he sees that you’re trying to inch closer to him. Speeding the process up Cass slides an arm under you, pulling you flush to his chest.

[linaslore]

h.s. | short n’ sweet (ig au) | part 2

sabrinacarpenter!reader x harry styles.

part 1

warnings: language, haters commeting, some details may not be accurate, english is not my first language. credits to the pics' owners.

🚫don’t copy, translate or put my work thru an AI.

liked by ynsalbums, taylorswift, harrystyles and others.

yourusername the waiting has finally come to an end. short n’ sweet out now! ☕💋 please please go check it out 🙏 hope you like it :)

view all comments

harrystyles it’s amazing!

yourusername thank you, h!🩵 ynrry h?? omg she has a nickname for him 😍 harryxyn and he was the first one to comment!!

taylorswift i’m working late…cause i’m a singer!! 

yourusername 🎤❤️ downbad4tayxyn you two and harry are carrying the music industry yourusername yeah, our backs are really hurting 💁‍♀️ tayxynstan ily ur so unserious 💖

torilovesyn you didn’t have to wreck my heart like that with lie to girls 🥺

yourusername i’m really sorry 😓

joeyking the album? incredible! the picture? beautiful!

yourusername aren’t you the sweetest?🩵

ynrrystan excuse me, this lyric ???? who's the cute boy with the white jacket and the thick accent????

ilyynrry it’s giving harry at the grammys 😦 ynsfits and y/n was wearing a sheer dress like the song mentions! ynrry i’m gonna pass out.

sweetyn i might let you make me juno??? wdym???

ynsespresso girl, like the movie 🤰

jackantonoff i had a lot of fun collaborating with you on this

yourusername best producer ever! 🩵

liked by ynrrysupdates, harrystyles, gemmastyles and others.

yourusername whenever people ask me why I named my new album ‘short n’ sweet’ i reply with this picture.

because that's what I am 💁‍♀️

view all comments

joeyking cute as a button 🤏🏼

yourusername that's right! 🩵

inluvwiths is that harry?

harryswife it can’t be. i hate the idea of harry dating her. eicslover because harry cares a lot about your opinion😂

ynrrystan are they official now?

ilyynrry i don’t know, mom i’m scared!!

ynrry i died dead.

jackantonoff i could fit you in my pocket 🤏

yourusername i can’t argue with that yk 💁‍♀️

harrystyles my back kinda hurts

yourusername sorry (not sorry)! harrysfineline excuse me harold??!! ynsfeather does he mean what i think he means????😱 makemejuno excuse me y/n????

ynxhs the day they confirm they're bf and gf will be one of the happiest 💕

liked by annetwist, gemmastyles, yourusername and others.

harrystyles Merry Harryween!

view all comments

annetwist great concert my love!

harryssunflower that cover of hopelessly devoted to you broke me 😭

harrysstan i need the cover on streaming platforms please!!!

yourusername you were amazing, h!! the way the whole crowd sung with you gave me chills ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

harrystyles thank you for being there ❤️ ynrrysworld how cute is this??? 💞

harryswife ugh i wish i had been there 

mialovesyn i wish y/n would have come on stage and sung with harry

ynrrysfan that would've been epic!!!

liked by harrystyles, ynrrysworld, annetwist and others.

yourusername dressed for the occasion🚬🖤 #Harryween

view all comments

joeyking face card NEVER declines

ynrry MATCHING OUTFITS????😭

ilyynrry if this isn't a confirmation then idk anything

harrystyles 🖤🖤

inluvwithynrry and now he liked and commented!!!

ynsfits stunning as always❤️‍🔥

harryftyn i have no words

ynsfeather how do you look this beautiful??!!

ynxharrystan this is getting more real, i love it!

eicslover our girl is falling in looooove

ynshouse this is so cute, i can't

iluvynrry why isn't this breaking the internet???

liked by ynrrysupdates, ynshortnsweet, taylorswift and others.

yourusername guess who will start touring with her new album really soon? yeah, you’re right. the little girl in the picture 🥹 thank you so much for making short n’ sweet #1, nothing would be the same without you guys 🩵

stay tuned for date announcements!💋

view all comments

torilovesyn omg please announce them now, i can’t wait!!

taylorswift the pop princess of our dreams 🤍

yourusername tay, stop! 🥹  downbad4tayxyn can you imagine being called pop princess of our dreams by THE taylor swift? yourusername i feel i’m about to wake up at any minute

jackantonoff you are still the same size as in the picture 🤏🏼

yourusername stop the short ppl banter!! 

harrystyles so happy for you!

yourusername 💖💖💖

ynrrylover aww bf and gf supporting each other 💜 harryswife they're not a couple. ynrry not that we know of but it's evident they like each other.

eicslover i hope you come to london, i can't wait to scream juno's lyrics

yourusername you and me both 🩵

liked by ynrrysupdates, youtube, harry styles and others.

yourusername I think I might have taken a liking to launching surprise things, here's the please please please music video 💄 🩵

thanks to my incredible director and the crew who made my ideas and thoughts come to life 🩵

and also, thanks to the one and only @/harrystyles for agreeing to work with me on this as soon as I presented the idea ❤️

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harrystyles my pleasure! i had so much fun filming this ❤️

eicslover yn goes to jail but the first thing she does is checking her make up... iconic 💋

jackantonoff i feel like a proud father on his kids' first day of school

yourusername our baby is out in the world🥺

ynrry you both look so hot on this video 🫦

harryftyn the definition of power couple

ynrrysworld does this mean you're actually dating???

ynsfeather i'm so proud of you y/n, your work is amazing ❤️

ynsespresso my mouth fell at the end, the video was amazing!!!

taylorswift heartbreak is one thing 👆

yourusername my ego is another 💁‍♀️

iluvynrry miss y/n is this an ultimatum for harry?

harryssunflower i can't believe harry cut his hair 😂

joeyking this is absolutely genious, i'm so proud of youuu 💘

yourusername omg, thank you 🥺🩵

liked by iluvynrry gemmastyles, harry styles and others.

yourusername please please please mv bts 🥰

view all comments

ynsfeather thank you harry for treating y/n like she deserves ❤️

jackantonoff if my man doesn't treat me like this, i don't want him

yourusername lmo jack!!!

ynrry i don't know who i'm most jealous of

ynrrysworld ik right? eicslover it might be harry actually

ynsespresso sooo beautiful as always ❤️

harryssunflower now that harry's tour is over his new job will be taking pics of y/n 😂

harrysgirl gemma liked omg dropping THE announcement soon!!!

thatsynespresso just like she deserves to be praised 💜

mrharrystyles 💘

angelharry what. a . man.

onlyangelyn such a queen ❤️‍🔥

liked by iluvynrry, ynrrysworld and others.

ynrrysupdates 📣⚠️ Y/N and Harry photographed at her birthday's party last weekend. Rumors has it she introduced him to her friends as her "boyfriend" 😳

view all comments

ynrry im screaming!!!

harryftyn this is amazing 🥰❤️🥰❤️

thatynespresso this picture is too cute, i can't ❤️

mrharrystyles 💜💜💜

harrysfineline harry, don't let her go!!!

ynrrysworld this is the best day of my life

onlyangelyn ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

harryssunflower the cutest ❤️

eicslover my baby girl deserves so much happiness 🩵

angelharry i stan them!! 💘

harryandyn finally!!!

well this is part 2 my friends, I hope you like it ❤️ i'd love to read some feedback :)

[ghost-proofbaby]

MORDOR (a barista!eddie x barista!reader au)

summary: you take a chance, and decide to call mordor.

warnings: fem!reader (use of she/her pronouns), mentions of life struggles (reader's turn to go through it), references to previous addition in this series so might be a little harder than normal to read as stand alone! this is really just me projecting on my need for eddie munson to comfort me

wc: 4.8k+

the full menu

You’re late. So, so fucking late. 

It panics Eddie. He sat in his car for that extra hour just waiting for your ridiculously bright yellow Jeep to pull in beside him, and when you still hadn’t by the time Nicole arrived, his chest twisted. When Nicole gets out of her car, and you’re still not there, his stomach churns.

Where are you? Are you okay? 

You hadn’t texted Nicole. You don’t call the store as the two of them flit about and try to manage opening without you. And when the time arrives to unlock the doors for the customers, Nicole finally excused herself to try and call you herself. 

Eddie scorns himself for not having your number. How stupid is it that you two have made a pact to be friends, and yet here he is weeks later, still not having your number.

“Any luck?” he asks, trying to level his tone when Nicole returns and he’s turning on the ovens.

“Nope,” her brows furrowed as she quickly scoots behind him, heading towards the front register, “It went straight to voicemail. Which, I mean… she’s never been late. Not like this.” 

“Should we be worried?” 

It’s a stupid question. He’s already worried. He’s frazzled enough to say fuck it, toss down his apron, and send out a search party for you rather than worrying about the store.

“Maybe,” Nicole shrugs, as if this doesn’t concern her as much as it does Eddie. As if there’s not sirens going off in her head as well. As if your sudden lack of punctuality is something to just shrug off.

As if your absence doesn’t rattle her the way it rattles Eddie. 

An hour passes by. Eddie gets more restless. Constantly looking to the store’s front door, incessantly checking outside the drive thru window for any sign of you or that damn Jeep. Every time the phone rings, Eddie has to curl his hands into fists to let Nicole answer rather than him. Each time, when he looks at her, the subtle shake of her head tells him it’s not you. His tongue nearly bleeds from how he chews on it with his molars to stop from asking her if she had tried to reach you again. He knows she has, notices how she spends extra time in the back, no doubt sending texts and useless calls alike your way.

If it were any other coworker, both Eddie and Nicole would be fuming. Concern would be replaced with irritation

He’s actually reaching to untie his apron and informing her that he’ll start trying to reach you instead when you finally come bursting into the store, a full two hours late to your shift. 

“Fuck,” you whisper-exclaim as you power walk through the lobby, “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” 

“You’re here!” he doesn’t bother keeping down his volume at the sight of you, flooded with immediate relief.

You’re okay. 

“I’m so sorry,” the apologies immediately begin to pour from your lips as you nearly trip rounding the corner into the back room, Eddie hot on your trail, “I’m so, so sorry! Shit, I- I just slept through my alarm, and had a late night, and-“ 

You’re digging your apron out of your bag when he finally reaches out to softly grab your arm, squeezing gently in an offer of comfort as you finally pause. 

“It’s fine,” he promises, “Everyone is late every once and a while.” 

Nicole was in the bathroom, but he’s sure that she’d say the same thing. The entire morning, both her and Eddie had been more worried than anything. Not mad, not irritated, but worried. 

And yet, you’re still on the verge of tears as you look up at Eddie, “It’s not fine. You had to open the store all on your own, and I know that’s stressful, and I saw all the missed calls but my phone was on silent. I mean, my shift’s already half over at this point. And I just-“ 

You cut off your rambling with a shaky breath. It breaks his heart to see you so upset, so guilt-ridden over something that happens to the best of you all. 

“It’s okay,” he stresses once more, another squeeze on your arm, “You had a late night? Is everything okay?” 

You open your mouth to answer him, the no already forming on your lips, when Nicole returns from the bathroom.

“Oh my gosh, there you are!” she exclaims.

And just like that, Eddie’s chance to be there for you as you were for him has vanished into thin air.

—

Your shift may have lasted several hours less than it was meant to, but you’re convinced it’s the absolute worst hours of your life. Which is saying a lot given how your life has gone to shit the last two days. 

You were already falling behind on classes, and your bank account was in the negative due to tuition payments. Your mother was calling every day to spend hours on the phone under the guise of catching you up at what you were missing at home, when in all reality it was just her complaining without taking a breath or allowing you to say a single word. You had to take your cat to the emergency vet when he wasn’t eating, only to find out he probably just didn’t like his current food anymore after a series of very expensive tests. Thing after thing, punch after punch, was being thrown your way. It was all just a bit much. 

And then you were late to work. Slept in after forgetting to set an alarm after a late night of staying up and listening to a friend rant over the phone. Burnt your hand not once but twice on the ovens. Spilt an entire cup of hot coffee on yourself. 

Life was out to get you. 

And the only good thing about today was Eddie. 

When the clock finally signals for the two of you to step off the floor, you’re sighing out in relief. You have no idea what the next issue will be waiting for you off the clock, but you’ve accepted that the day couldn’t get worse. And yet, as you go to grab your bag, wrapping your apron by muscle memory as you watch him, your stomach churns at the thought of today’s time being cut so short today. You just like being around him. You like making inside jokes, sharing quick glances, making one another laugh until your stomachs ache over stupid things in the midst of chaos. He’s a guiding light, something to look forward to, a wonderful break from reality that you just… you just cherish.

As you’re tearing up suddenly at the realization along with the heavy weight of your week, you recall that conversation last week. The word you two had assigned for when you needed a break.

Technically, it was probably a joke. Or to be used to ditch work. He probably hadn’t meant it.

But you have to try.

“Hey, uh, Eddie?” you ask nervously, fiddling with the straps of your bag as he’s patting his pockets for all his items.

“Yeah?” he doesn’t look up yet, doesn’t see the forlorn look across your face.

Just say it. If he doesn’t get it – no harm, no foul. If he gets it, and rejects the motion – oh well. The worst he can say is no. 

You have to swallow hard, take a sharp breath, before you can get the single word out. “Mordor.” 

He freezes mid-pat, hands hovering over his front pockets as he slowly looks up. 

“What did you say?”

“Mordor,” you repeat yourself, with a little more confidence to your tone this time. The worst he can say is no. 

For a second, you become convinced he’s forgotten all about that conversation in the parking lot. You really don’t blame him; half the time, you guys discuss anything and everything with minimal importance. Those early and surreal mornings are always more about spending time with one another, with a friend, than it is about actually processing the things said.

But then, two things happen. Firstly, the wrinkles between his brows smooth out. A second passes. And then – they return. 

Sloping ridges and mountains in that small space, each and every bit of them etched with worry. For you. The corners of his mouth deeply downturn and all the white noise of the front of house fades away the longer he looks at you with such care. 

“Mordor?” he echoes, “Like, as in… as in our code word?” 

You feel as if the moment you speak up, all that strength you had mustered throughout the shift will shatter. You’re tired and you’re beaten, you’re desperate and you’re hoping. You don’t even care if he tells you he doesn’t have time to properly sit and unwind with you right now – you’d settle for just a hug. The same arms that bump against yours and that sometimes stretch along your space to grab things from around you, the same arms you’ve seen strain as he insists on carrying heavy kegs for you, the same arms you just want to wrap around you, if even for a second, and squeeze. 

Who knows? Maybe, if he squeezes tight enough, he can put all the broken shards of the week back into place. It’s not his job to fix it, but you’re convinced for a moment, he’s the key to everything just feeling okay for nothing more than a mere second. 

You nod. If you answer him with words, you’re going to cry. The tears are already eagerly burning your corneas. 

He says your name softly, gentle enough that you have to pinch your eyes shut and take a shaky breath to avoid any spillage of your emotions. 

“Are you okay?” 

“No,” you try to make it a laugh, as if this is a joke, “I, uh- not really?” 

“Is it because you were late today?”

Your voice cracks and your eyes squeeze shut tighter for a second as you answer with a weak, “Kind of.” 

You let your eyes snap open again, try and seek out some everpresent warmth in his honey brown ones as your vision blurs a bit with shameful tears. 

You’ve never realized just how many shades resided in those irises, all warm and cool browns alike swirling. They almost match the espresso, you come to realize. And it’s funny, to think about the way all your other coworkers whisper just as scary and grumpy he is the moment he’s out of earshot. It’s funny how customers seem to crumple timidly beneath his disassociating gaze when he finds himself lost in thought on bar or warming. Every single other person who has stepped foot in this store seems to have one impression of Eddie, and it’s not even a proper shadow of the man before you. 

All soft edges. All care and all warmth. He’s not scary, he’s not grumpy; he’s careful and considerate, a little shy at times, a little hesitant at others. And you can only imagine why he’s that way, when you can see someone entirely different reflected in those goddamn honeyed eyes in this moment. 

He takes a step forward. Opens his mouth to speak. Goes as far to even begin to reach out a hand. And then he’s interrupted. 

“Thank you for your patience,” Nicole chirps into her headset as she comes into the back room, turning a corner with determination and snatching a sleeve of cups off the shelves as she continues to speak over the drive thru channel with ease, “Can we get you started with anything to eat today?” 

His mouth closes and his hand drops as you both glance down at the floor, completely silent as you wait for her to finally retreat back out onto the floor without a second glance at the two of you. 

The tears still burn and blur your vision. 

“Okay,” Eddie says the moment the two of you are alone in the back once more, “Okay. Mordor it is. Come with me, sweetheart.” 

Sweetheart. It rolls off his tongue and it wraps around you before he reaches out and grabs at your hand, only connecting palms and avoiding intertwining fingers before he’s tugging you out the back door. 

Not even through the front. As if he wants to save you the embarrassment of a walk of shame with teary eyes and defeated shoulders.

“We can’t-” you start to protest, but he’s already wrangled the key that is left in the back door – impressively quickly, as even you struggle with that fickle lock at times – before he shoves the door open wordlessly and yanks you out with him wordlessly. 

The door doesn’t even slam shut. It feels like a dramatic moment where it should, but it only closes back with a whisper and soft whoosh of air. 

“They have to do a trash run anyways,” he reassures you when you look back at the unlocked door with worry, referring to the overflowing trash that would soon be taken out to the dumpster in the distance, “It’s fine.” 

The soil crunches beneath both of your sneakers as he makes a beeline to his van. No questions are asked, just as you two had joked about. 

The sun is still favoring the Eastern sky despite growing warmer in the late morning. Eddie’s van is stuffy when he initially unlocks it for both of you to jump into the front, him being sure to open the passenger door for you and only shutting it closed once you’ve securely settled into that seat you’ve spent countless early hours in. 

He starts up the vehicle once he’s in his driver’s seat, but makes no move to drive off as he stares at you. 

“What?” you whisper, voice still strained as you toss your bag down by your feet. 

All he says in return, still gentle and still warm, still glowing brighter than the man everyone seems to think he is, is a reminder of, “Seatbelt.” 

You obey that half-spoken command. You don’t ask where you two are going once he shifts into drive the moment the click sounds in the small space.

—

Eddie drives for a while. He gets onto the freeway in the opposite direction of your way home, and you probably should be worried, but you aren’t. You have no mental capacity for consideration of how you’ll get back to your car, whether your coworkers will worry about it remaining in the parking lot, or whether Eddie even knows where he’s going. Hell, even his slightly erratic driving doesn’t affect you. 

You just stare at the trees as they pass by in a blur. Your mind numbs, smells of a rainstorm in the distance slips into the cabin of the vehicle through the cracks in the back windows, and you just let go. 

If your mother knew what you had done today, you would have absolutely been reamed a new one. 

Eddie slows at an unfamiliar exit, just after the two of you pass a small green sign that reads NOW ENTERING HAWKINS CITY LIMITS. 

“Hawkins?” you murmur your first noise of the entire drive. 

“You ever been?” Eddie asks as if you hadn’t been catatonic the entire way here. 

You prop an elbow up on the door, fist digging into the side of your face as you lean and take in the scenery now passing by a bit slower, “Can’t say I have.” 

“Well, then,” he keeps talking, and it’s sort of comforting after the long silence, “Consider yourself lucky.” 

That gets a snort out of you. One that has his head turning quickly to look at you as he slows at the first redlight after the freeway, a grin twitching on his lips softly as he takes in the sight of you. 

He must think you can’t see him staring, because he continues to do it, until the light has changed green and he’s made no move to press on his gas.

“It’s green.”

“Huh?”

You look over at him, his rosy cheeks and diverted eyes at being caught, and repeat yourself with more emphasis, “The light’s green, idiot.” 

“Oh, shit!” 

Another snort, another rapid (albeit shorter) glance on his part. 

He’s got a nice smile. Even if he might totally be a secret serial killer who was just jumping at the opportunity to murk his unsuspecting and vulnerable coworker in the middle of the woods. He could get away with it with a smile like that. 

It’s only once he’s turned onto a dirt road that leads out into the woods that you really care to finally ask one of the first questions you probably should have asked the moment you got in his van – “Uh, Eddie? Where… Where are you taking me?” 

“Trust me,” he insists, both hands gripping his wheel with care as he navigates the car into thicker foliage, “I promise I’m not going to, like, murder you.” 

“Sounds like something someone who is going to murder me would say,” you put in a little extra effort, offering him the joke and more than a snort this time. 

You don’t miss the swell of pride that lifts him to sit up just a tad bit straighter in his seat. As if your joking, as if your laughing, was something he was proud to elicit from you. 

“Guess you’ll just have to wait and find out, then.” 

He drives pretty deeply into the woods, until the road turns rougher and the treeline is thick enough you can’t catch clearsight of the main road anymore. You really should be worried, but all you do instead of mustering up any anxiety is roll down the window. It makes him glance at you, but you don’t pay that look any mind. 

The smell of rain is even stronger, heavy as it mingles with the scent of pine and dirt. It somehow dances between something familiar and something new, a distant memory that unlocks and soothes some of that tightness that had been residing in your chest for a week now. It doesn’t smother, but it does gather up in your nose, tickling in the slightest. You swear, if you were to focus hard enough, you’d pick up on the comforting smell of a burning campfire somewhere. It just seemed like the kind of appropriate scent to add to the essence of it all. The strings of light that break through leaves in golden hues, the cloud spitting out of his back tires as he clearly goes just above the recommended speed for this old road, the pleasant chirp of a bird that whistles right past – the essence of pure comfort to someone like you. 

It kind of makes you wish you lived in Hawkins, just as you assumed Eddie did. 

He finally slows the van into a clearing, never once scolding you for rolling the window down. He leaves you as you twist your body in what must be an uncomfortable fashion to rest your chin on the top of the door, cheeks and nose just barely peeking out of the car. Every slap of the breeze on your face feels as though you’re releasing another bit of worry to the wind, your chest continuing to grow lighter and lighter. 

“Alright, Sunshine,” he clears his throat, throwing the van into park. The clearing is very obviously a small campsite – you can make out a fire pit just a few paces away and the perfect space cleared of rocks, “You call the shots. What are we gonna do?”

“What?”

Eddie leans over the center console, getting closer to you as thunder rolls in the distance, “What do you want to do? You called Mordor, so whatever is going to help you, we’ll do.”

You want to tell him that just doing as he has, not saying no and not asking questions as he drove the two of you out into the middle of nowhere, helped. The fact that he hadn’t hesitated when he’d processed that you’d said Mordor was already doing wonders for the storm that had brewed within your chest. You’d managed to snag extra time with the boy who had a way about making everything alright, and that in itself was able to erase some of your week from Hell.

But he’s looking at you, awaiting a real answer, so you say the first thing you can think of, “Do you have your copy of The Hobbit on you, by chance?” 

“Oh, say less, sweetheart,” Quickly, Eddie fumbles with his seatbelt and unbuckles himself, swinging open his door and clambering out onto the soft ground waiting below. He waits for a moment, hands on his hips as he looks at you expectantly, “Well? C’mon. I promise you the back seat is far more comfortable.” 

“Does that line usually work for you?” 

“I don’t mean it like that.” 

“Every fuckboy means it like that, Eds.” 

You don’t know it, but his heart swells a little bit at the nickname. 

“Good thing I’m not a fuck boy then,” he leans back into the van a little, smiling wildly, “Now come and join me in the back of my van in a totally platonic, definitely not suggestive way, Sunshine.” 

He doesn’t have to ask twice; you’re climbing out to follow him to the back of the van, not even flinching as you both slam your doors shut in sync and you giggle the entire way. It’s just his effect. Everything is lighter with him around, and you’re starting to believe he should be the one called Sunshine instead of you. 

“M’lady,” he bows dramatically, swinging open the heavy doors for you. 

The climb in is a bit awkward, but you don’t even think about it as you take in the nest of an arrangement Eddie has set up in the back of his van. There’s an old comforter spread out across the entire floor of it, with several smaller blankets bunched at random with a few pillows. 

“Are you sure you’re not a fuckboy?” you question as you’re careful to not touch the blankets with the sole of your shoes, twisting and beginning to unlace the sneakers that had seen better days. There’s stains of various sauces and syrups from work, and surely milk layering the bottom of them. You’re positive if you investigated close enough, you’d even find coffee grounds lodged between the ridges of the textured sole. 

“Positive,” Eddie follows you in, reaching and shutting the doors carefully behind him. He’s less meticulous about his own boots, hardly undoing the knots and kicking them off into the same corner you’d placed your shoes, “I solemnly swear you are the first to see these freshly cleaned blankets.” 

“What about before you cleaned them?” 

“Sweetheart,” he throws himself down on one of the worn pillows, laying right beside where you have your knees drawn up to your knees. He’s flat on his back, hair flaring out in a halo around his head as he looks up at you with big, brown eyes, “You’re killing me here.” 

You can’t help it. The two of you are probably not nearly close enough for what you impulsively do, but you’ve had a hard week, and his hair looks damn soft. 

Your fingers are reaching out to trace over some of the wild and thrown out strands of curls before you can overthink it. Curling caramel and honey softness, you try to not let your breath catch as your pull up on the strand and let it run between your knuckles rather than just fingertips. 

“Yeah?” you smile gently, watching him melt as you twirl the end of the curl you’d been playing with around the length of your finger, “Any specific requests for your funeral?” 

He plays along, trying to not get too lost up in the barely-there feeling of you playing with his hair, “Your attendance, obviously. And probably some good music. Preferably Metallica – again, obviously.”

“Oh, obviously.” 

“Actually, d’you think you can get Kirk Hammett himself to attend? That’d be the best outcome. My only request, actually.”

“You’d rather Kirk Hammett attend your funeral than me?”

“I’ve got priorities here, Sunshine.” 

Your fingers have traveled up to his scalp now, scratching gently as you both are consumed in withheld laughter and brilliantly shy smiles, letting go of heavy weeks and succumbing to all of the sunlight crammed into the back of Eddie’s van. 

“Alright,” your fingers pause their scratches, “I believe you were meant to read me a bedtime story, Munson.” 

“Bedtime story? It’s not even afternoon yet,” Eddie scoffs, throwing a hand up as he digs beneath one of the small, fluffy blankets in the corner. When his hand comes back into view, it clutches that same copy of The Hobbit you’ve seen on the back desk at work on multiple occasions, “Alright, well, make yourself comfortable.” 

Eddie shifts to sit up, your hand falling from his scalp as he piles a few of the pillows from beside him to prop him up as you mentally debate your options. 

You could just lay down beside him. Not touching, just listening. The arrangement was comfortable enough and you have no doubt that it would still be exactly as you needed after all the stress. 

Or you could be daring. You could do more than listen; you could lay your head in his lap, or maybe rest your tired temple against his shoulder. Your could press up against him tightly under the excuse that the space back here was limited and you could selfishly indulge in all that he was willing to offer for this afternoon. More than brushing touches, more than playful glances. 

You could feel the skin of his arm against your own bare shoulder and for a moment, you could just pretend. 

Don’t overthink it. Don’t overthink this. 

You opt for the lap. It’s more comfortable. Less intimate, you convince yourself. 

When your cheek presses into the rough denim stretching over his thigh, you can feel him tense up momentarily. Everything seemingly stops for just a second – even his breathing. But by the time you notice, it’s already resumed. You start to worry you’ve overstepped boundaries, gone too far for two coworkers playing pretend as ‘friends’. 

This definitely isn’t what he meant. First you played with his hair, now you’re laying your head on his lap. You need to learn personal space, personal boundari-

All thoughts evaporate as Eddie suddenly tugs one of the blankets over you, letting it drape comfortably over your shoulder. 

“Shall we begin?” 

Eddie’s voice was made to narrate Tolkien. It becomes apparent between the way he enunciates each word to paint a beautiful fantasy world, his fluctuation changing for each character without missing a beat. His voice takes on a slightly deeper timber than his normal speaking voice as you listen to the storm that had been teasing the entire drive finally break. Hard winds knock against the sides of the van occasionally, the patter of rain echoing off the metal roof of the van. Thunder becomes more frequent, and you couldn’t be sure, but there must be lightning somewhere above the trees to match it. But it doesn’t reach the two of you, the random bursts of light easily mistaken for swaying shadows through the windshield. 

Here in this van, with just you and Eddie and the adventures of Bilbo Baggins, it feels as if nothing bad can touch either of you. Not long weeks, not irate customers, not pessimistic friends or family – nothing. A certain bubble of safety has been created here, and you revel in it. Preen in the certainty of a few hours rest as Eddie’s fingers begin to tangle in your hair and return the favor of playing with your own strands. A simple pattern; he starts at the scalp, runs the fingers all the way through until they trail down the slope of your neck and curve of your shoulder. On occasion, they even slip to caress the top of your spine through the blanket.

Somewhere between the warmth of the soft blanket enveloping you in the scent of clean laundry and the soothing repetitive motions, you find yourself slipping away into sleep. Well-deserved, very much needed sleep that welcomes you with open arms. It’s not quite the hug you had craved from Eddie back at the store, but it’s a hug all the same, and it does hold you close just tight enough to make you believe the afternoon is capable of pressing all your broken pieces back together. If not forever, then just for now. The comfort of it all only has you nuzzling your cheek deeper into the muscle of his thigh.

The lap, it turns out, was the right choice.

Little did you know how grateful Eddie was for your choice of position. Better for your head to rest on his lap than for your ear to be pressed to his chest and hearing the current thunder of his heart that challenges the storm beginning outside the van, beating far harder for you than a friend’s would.

eddie's taglist: @capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @hideoutside @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin @ches-86 @alovesongtheywrote @its-not-rain @feralchaospixie @cheesypuffkins87 @thebook-hobbit @babez-a-licious @eddies-acousticguitar @d64d-n0t-sl66p1ng @aysheashea @kellsck @cosmorant @billyhvrgrove-main @micheledawn1975

ghost's taglist: @emmaisgonnacry @figmentofquinn @bebe07011 @barbedwirebats @ayooooo0 @neverlearnedcivility @munson-enthusiast @digwhatudug @wow-cam @daddysmodifiedprincess2 @cancankiki @gothmingguk @nix-rose @thesesuggestedblognamesbegreat @chevelle724 @madaboutjoe @take-everything-you-can @josephquinnsfreckles @thebanisheddreamer @water-loos @dailyobsession @whenshelanded @happy-and-alone @alwayslindie @royale1803 @onegirlmanytales @whyamiheresomeonehelp @mrsjellymunson

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[delespresso]

CAN'T SLEEP ━━ Nick Torres x fem!reader (requested)

author's note; kinda short but also my first time writing for nick! a little different style but i hope you liked it :)) also, very sorry for the late posting and response to requests. i started college and it's been kicking my ass. i finally found a bit of time to write something and just started going thru my inboxes. again, so sorry!!

prompts; “without you, i can't sleep” from after hours

summary; nick was usually alright with being alone, until he found her

━━ ☄. *. ⋆

Nick Torres had spent years deep undercover. When he returned to Washington and got a spot in a real team, something more stable and permanent, it took a while to get used to.

He was always on the go. Hardly having any time to process anything for himself other than for a mission. So his life was alone. He'd never felt quite lonely, it was just a process to him.

Until he had a taste of having someone that brought back the joy of dancing, of late night movie runs, of mundane grocery shopping.

It wasn't what he'd expected when they had a new forensic analyst on their team. And he never thought much into it.

It was when she'd started coming over. It started because she needed a place to stay when her apartment was closed off due to some sort of gas leak. Then it became a few movie nights where she'd stay over because they fell asleep on the couch together.

Those nights always ended up with him waking up in the morning with her cuddled up in his arms. Like a natural gravitational pull where somehow, he didn't kick her off in his sleep. The sleepovers became frequent, but it was completely innocent. For once, he had someone sleeping with him without having had sex beforehand.

And by God, it was surprisingly nice.

When she stopped coming over for two weeks, it felt too quiet. He realised he hated it — even if the nights they spent together were typically on his couch by accident. But he couldn't quite sleep in his bed when she wasn't around either.

So on a whim, he decided to go downstairs to the lab at the office to find her. He even had a box of donuts in hand — as if it were a bribe of some sort as he started calling out for her. Her usual playlist was playing in the background, some upbeat pop that she never stopped playing.

“Hi!”

She popped out of nowhere, taking off her glasses and setting down the glue gun in hand. He raised his brows as he looked at her, amused by her typical random behaviour.

“Hey you. What's falling apart this time?” He mused as he joined her at her station.

She only clicked her tongue, waving him off.

“I'm building a shelf.”

“With a hot glue gun?” He questioned as he held up the mentioned equipment.

“Shut up. Why are you here?”

It waa just like her to switch the topic so easily. Nick couldn't help but chuckle, his eyes surprisingly and unknowingly fond as he looked at her.

“Brought you donuts,” he said as he nudged the box in her direction.

The way she easily perked up at that made his heart flutter like a little schoolboy.

“And I wanted to ask if you wanted to come binge watch something stupid again,” he added.

She glanced up at him, leaning her hip against her station as she raised her brows in question. It had been a while since their last movie night. They'd both gotten a little busy.

“What movie?”

“Whatever you want.”

The way she smiled was enough to tell him her answer. And definitely enough to send his heart into overdrive.

They left work together that evening, going over to his place where they had pizza delivered and the movie was put on. She'd chosen to watch Twilight — and he secretly enjoyed it. Even if he'd never admit it to her.

Somewhere through the second movie, she'd inched closer to him. Her head fell against his shoulder as his arm naturally moved to wrap around her.

It was comfortable. It was perfect, really. Nick turned his head a little, enough to nuzzle the top of her head.

“You should come over more often,” he muttered against her hair.

She hummed, a little sleepy by now but still coherent enough to ask why.

“Guess you're my sleeping pill,” he replied quietly, as they ended falling asleep snuggled up on his couch again.

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