#how? well that involves another lil series

[inkyclone99]

Hunter sees a man in his dreams.

His face drenched in darkness, blood all over his white shirt and the deepest bloody cut he had ever seen surrounding his neck.

A scary vision, a terrifying figure.

But…when he sees the man…he feels calm. He feels like he is with an older vod, like 99.

The man holds him, looks at him with a familiarity in his widened eyes. It’s like he knew Hunter his entire life, and wanted to protect him forever.

Hunter was just a cadet. He had never seen a natborn so…closely. He had no idea who that man was, and why he felt safe at such big and horrific vision.

He knew that man would keep him safe whenever they were close. He could feel comfortable and trust…

Even if there was always a skull with the man, haunting him like a ghost.

Perhaps…that’s where he got the idea.

“You are the strongest vod I’ve ever met!”

Dio saw the boy when he was wide awake.

He couldn’t sleep in the coffin. He couldn’t dream. For almost a century he hadn’t been able to rest. Because the haunting of the skull kept him up.

But whenever he saw the boy, and the boy talked to him so excitedly…he felt like he was seeing a light in the eternal darkness.

He didn’t knew who the boy was, he never saw an uniform like that, he didn’t understand what he talked most of the time.

Though, the boy was familiar. And comforting.

Something in his eyes…

Whenever the boy disappeared, Dio could just hope these sweet hallucinations would come back soon, so he didn’t feel alone.

[awearywritersworld]

i have for the first time found what i can truly love—i have found you

sukuna x reader summary: you and sukuna go out for a late night meal. gojo finds out about your... relationship. sukuna is forced to take care of you when you come home drunk. w/c: 2.85k tags/warnings: enemies to lovers. fluff. lots of banter. cursing. jealous/protective!sukuna. gojo being a flirt. aged up!yuuji. features a teeny bit of yuuji x reader. drinking and drunk!reader. not canon compliant. fem!reader. no use of y/n. no manga spoilers. a/n: i think i like how this turned out! also, the first two sections could def be read as a fluffy lil stand alone. idc whats happening in the canonverse, sukunas just a tsundere who adores us very much<3 series masterlist // masterlist

"maybe if you stare long enough, food will magically appear," sukuna calls to you from the kitchen table.

"this is no joking matter," you scold from your place in front of the fridge. "i'm starving."

"well, here's an absurd idea— let's go eat."

you turn toward him, finally closing the fridge, and tilt your head to the side. "you eat?"

"of course." he leans back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest. "i typically prefer babies, but hell, i'd even go for an old man right now. i'm famished."

your eyes widen and your mouth falls open. he lets the panic simmer on your face for a few more cruel moments. "i'm kidding, idiot. i eat food, same as you."

"i knew that," you assert. the way your shoulders sag in relief tells him otherwise.

"right," he smirks. after standing up, he grabs your purse and tosses it in your direction. "where to? you're buying."

with only so many places open at midnight, you begin your journey to a 24 hour ramen shop.

you've hardly interacted with sukuna outside of your apartment, so this is certainly an experience you didn't anticipate. and in fact, you're shocked at how normal it feels— almost as if it's a date.

as you walk down the street, people eye him suspiciously because of the dark lines they assume are tattoos. it doesn't bother you though, nor does the lateness of the hour. you know that you're safe because you're with him.

your hands keep brushing against one another's, and you're hoping that he'll eventually take a hint and reach for yours. he doesn't (i mean come on, do you even know who you're dealing with?).

he does at least pick up on your pouty expression with impressive ease. "what now?"

"nothing," you huff.

"don't be a brat."

you sigh dramatically. "you're supposed to hold my hand."

"sure princess," he says condescendingly, lacing his fingers through yours. "maybe use your words next time like a big girl."

he doesn't fail to notice the ensuing skip in your step, and he kicks himself for regarding it as cute.

when you arrive at the ramen shop, sukuna orders no less than three bowls, which earns him a glare once the waitress walks away.

"when i agreed to pay, i didn't know what a glutton you are."

"oh yeah? cause i'm just the picture of temperance any other time?"

you scoff. "well you've got me there."

a sly smirk settles onto his face before he speaks again. "maybe one day you'll learn how greedy i am when it comes to the things i've deemed pleasurable."

you choke on the water you'd just brought to your lips, your face heating up as if it'd been bathed by fire.

wiping at your mouth, you try your best to recover quickly. "whatever, you hellion. as long as that doesn't involve a fourth bowl of ramen."

you're no more than 10 steps away from the shop when you hold out your hand to him. "ahem."

he grabs it roughly and not without rolling his eyes.

"what?" you ask innocently. "that was a word."

"hardly," he jeers. "for as much as you read, i'd expect you to be more fluent than a child."

"and at 1000 years old, i'd expect you to be more charming than a teenage boy, but i guess we're both making concessions."

"see, this is the part that puzzles me. you never seem to have trouble with your words when you're being insolent."

"maybe it's a sign," you begin whimsically. "the universe decided you need to be taken down a peg."

"ah, yes. you as the executor of the universe's will. i don't know why i couldn't see it before."

you giggle, rather delighted that he's elected to play along with your quips. there's something that feels so warm and pleasant about it.

as you wonder if he feels it too, your hand tightens around his.

you're not quite ready to head back to your apartment just yet, because you're scared you'll lose the atmosphere surrounding the two of you. in truth, it's a bit intoxicating.

the perfect opportunity arises when you spot a small park up ahead. lights are strung around the trees, all of which are situated around a small fountain.

"we should stop at that park!" you hardly finish speaking before you take off in that direction, tugging him along behind you.

after you plop down on the fountain's ledge, sukuna takes his place beside you.

"let's sit here for a little while."

he doesn't respond and you take his silence as agreement. he's not really one to stifle his grievances.

as the minutes pass, the rush of the fountain is the only noise that fills the air, while you gaze at the trees with a serene expression.

sukuna, however, is looking at you. the only care he has for the trees is the way their lights reflect in your eyes. otherwise, he's fully occupied by the curve of your nose and the fullness of your lips.

"isn't this pretty?" you finally ask.

"it's pretty," he agrees, even when such a soft word feels foreign on his tongue.

his eyes still haven't left you, and you seem to be oblivious to this fact until he reaches up to stroke your cheek with the back of fingers.

when your gaze lands on him, the fondness written all over his face catches you off guard and you realize how close the both of you are. without really thinking about it, you lean into his touch.

"very pretty," he repeats lowly, as if he's talking to himself.

your heart lurches once in your chest, then hammers away at your ribcage without respite. he leans toward you a fraction of an inch, his eyes flicking down to your lips for a brief second.

truthfully, sukuna has never felt the way he does in this moment. it's a sincere sort of desire. he doesn't want the mindless devotion he once thirsted for from his followers. and he doesn't want the sex he used to crave from his concubines.

no. he just wants you— in whatever capacity you're willing to have him.

the way he's looking at you is just too much. there's a dull thudding in your ears and you swear your thoughts are moving at a million miles a minute.

so naturally, you blurt out the first thing you can manage. "we should take a selfie!"

his face shifts from whatever that expression was to one of confusion. "take a selfie?"

some twisted mix of relief and disappointment crashes through you.

"yeah, a selfie. a picture together. ya know, since the park is so pretty," you ramble.

he pulls away from you. not all the way, but enough that it gives you space to finally breath. he chuckles and it doesn't sound lofty like it so often does. in fact, he seems genuinely amused by you.

"a selfie," he deliberates. "that sounds great, but to the best of my knowledge, hell hasn't frozen over."

and just like that, your dynamic feels like it did during your walk from the ramen shop to the park— comfortable and fun.

"well i guess you would be one of the first to know."

ignoring his protests, you take out your phone and hold it far enough away that the camera captures both of your faces. you can see on the screen that he's put on an expression of complete boredom.

"c'mon," you nudge him with your elbow. "you look like you hate me."

the corner of his mouth curves upward. "that's because i do."

you think back on the way he was gazing at you just moments ago and laugh. "you're so full of shit."

then, without warning, you press a kiss to his cheek and click the button.

you decide that his vague look of contented surprise will just have to do.

when you and yuuji walk into the bar, you immediately spot one of the people you're there to meet. he's sitting at a hightop by himself, his snow white hair pretty hard to miss.

you tap his shoulder and his face breaks out into a grin. he slides out of the barstool. "if it isn't my favorite civilian!"

as he pulls you into a hug, you wonder if he's ever going to get tired of that joke. "if it isn't my favorite old man."

"35 is not old," he argues, moving to greet yuuji. "i'm still in the summer of my life, thank you very much!"

"gojo you're 36," the pink haired man remarks.

"gah! such betrayal, yuuji!" he presses his hand to his forehead and takes a deep breath. "now i'm going to need another round."

"i'll go and get drinks for all of us," you offer. "you two stay here so no one takes the table."

before either of them can respond, you turn and begin making your way through the crowd. you don't hear gojo when he calls out, "but darling! i should go with you!"

he takes a step in your direction, but stops when sukuna's mouth appears on yuuji's cheek. "you certainly should not, you insufferable half wit."

"relax, dude. he flirts with literally everyone," yuuji informs him.

gojo scoffs. "i am right here—"

"as if that makes it better?" sukuna barks. "she isn't some toy to be played with."

"of course she isn't! you can't honestly think i'd believe otherwise."

gojo is left forgotten for a moment as the other two bicker, so he interjects once there's a lull in the conversation. "do either of you care to explain what the hell is going on?"

yuuji turns toward him, trying and failing to hide the embarrassment on his face once he realizes that gojo is, in fact, still standing there.

his eyebrows are raised above his sunglasses and it's clear he is inappropriately amused by the situation (what else is new?). he moves to sit across from the younger man, looking at him expectantly.

having no way to talk himself out of this, yuuji relays the recent events regarding you and sukuna, sparing some of the finer details. gojo's face doesn't really betray much emotion throughout the story, though he does look thoughtful by the end of it.

leaning forward, he crosses his arms on top of the table. "maybe your feelings for her are influencing his own, forcing a sort of bond between them?"

"i don't think so," yuuji contends honestly. "other than her, you're the person i admire and respect the most, but he thinks—"

"that you are perhaps the most imbecilic rampallion i've ever had the displeasure of coming across."

gojo jerks back, as if the insult had hit him squarely in the jaw. the look of giddiness from yuuji's compliment, followed by the shift to indignation at sukuna's insult is almost comical.

he stretches his neck forward, cupping his hand around one side of his mouth as if it'd keep sukuna from hearing. "what'd he just call me?"

yuuji shrugs. "beats me, but i don't think he was singing your praises."

"i see your point." gojo pauses, glancing over his shoulder. you're approaching the table, so he turns back to yuuji and quickly adds, "we'll talk more about this another time, but for now, keep this between us."

a few moments later, you appear in front of them and exclaim, "look who i found!"

megumi and inumaki situate themselves around the table too, offering their greetings. you slide yuuji and gojo their drinks, both of which are filled to the brim of the glass. "now then gentlemen, shall we?"

when gojo teleports you and yuuji back to your apartment that night, it takes everything in you to keep from yakking all over your carpet.

"ta ta, hooligans!"

you turn to request that he never do that again, but he's already gone. taking one step forward, you promptly fall on your ass in the entryway with an unforgiving thud. yuuji staggers toward the couch, making it there just in time to face plant into the cushions.

looking down toward your shoes, you're dismayed to find that each one appears to have two sets of laces. you're fumbling with them determinedly when someone crouches down in front of you, their elbows resting on their thighs.

he doesn't say a word. brushing your hands away, he unties your shoes and carefully pulls them off your feet. you're lifted from the floor before you can register the arm that's looped under your knees or the other that's securely around your back.

"careful," you hiccup, your head falling into the crook of his neck. "'m gunna p-puke."

"i'd rather you didn't."

you groan. "s'not like i 'ave a choice in the matter."

he hums. "how much did you drink?"

"dunno. sss'much. nobara—" you hiccup again. "nobara n' maki made me."

he chuckles, placing you down on what you figure is your bed. "right, i'm sure you had no choice in the matter."

"tha's correct, yes."

unbuttoning your jeans, he tugs upward on your belt loops. "lift."

you do as he says, lifting your hips from the bed so he can slide your jeans off your legs. he knows you won't remember this— hell, your eyes are already closed— but he looks away as he does it anyway.

pulling your phone from your pocket and putting it on the charger, your pants are discarded off to the side. he only turns his head back in your direction once he's pulled the blankets up over your body.

"tuck me in?" you request.

sitting down on the bed beside you, he does so without protest.

he stares at you for a little while, worried about how poorly you're probably going to feel in the morning. he presses a kiss to your forehead, intending to get up and grab a water bottle for your nightstand.

instead, his body freezes when he hears you mumble, "i love you s'much."

his heart clenches so painfully, he honestly considers ripping it from his chest— it would probably be less agonizing.

but a thought that makes him feel like a fool occurs to him. of course it's not him that you love. "i'm not yuuji."

"well, duuuhhh. you're s'kuna." you're peering up at him through tired, hazy eyes. it's the first time you've ever seen him look bewildered, so a small giggle erupts from your throat. "s'okay. you don't 'ave t'say it back."

your eyes flutter shut and your breathing evens out before he even thinks to respond. all at once, it's as if his head is empty and as if it's about to explode.

love?

what does he know about love? it's a sentiment he's cursed for so long, but sitting here beside you, he can't quite seem to remember why. one thing he is sure of, however, is that there's never been a thing in the world he's loved.

suddenly, he's struck with remembrance of a quote from jane eyre you had emphasized with messy underlines:

"after a youth and manhood passed half in unutterable misery and half in dreary solitude, i have for the first time found what i can truly love—i have found you. you are my sympathy—my better self—my good angel. i am bound to you with a strong attachment. i think you good, gifted, lovely: a fervent, a solemn passion is conceived in my heart; it leans to you, draws you to my centre and spring of life, wraps my existence about you, and, kindling in pure, powerful flame, fuses you and me in one."

rochester says it as he begs jane to stay at thornfield with him, an act sukuna had previously regarded as ridiculous, but is that still the case?

were you to ever scorn him, would he fall to his knees and plead with you to change your mind? or if you were in danger of dying, would he drag himself to a shrine and pray to the gods he doesn't believe in?

is that what love is?

could he stand to be apart from you? are you special to him? does anything else in the world compare to you? does he seek out your company? is he consumed by you? can he know himself without knowing you?

does the definition of love lie in those questions?

sukuna hopes not, because he's terrified of the answers. being in love is not his way, nor is it in his nature.

he buries his face in his hands as realization settles into his bones. it feels as if they're splintering beneath the pressure, trying resentfully to stave it off.

he transcends any imaginable scale of power. he's bled entire villages dry, he's commandeered death, he's the king of curses.

so why now? and why you? is it divine retribution? a sick sort of joke that even he couldn't have dreamed up?

gods, you were right. the universe has sent you to carry out its will and he's completely powerless to stop it.

the worst part of it all? he doesn't want to.

taglist: @96jnie @ay0nha @sad-darksoul @bbysatoruuu @luciiferian @thepup356 @risuola *users in bold could not be tagged

[hwaslayer]

wildfire (cs) | two.

—spotify playlist | series masterlist

—summary: assistant professor in bioengineering, incredibly attractive, lonely and divorced; that’s how most people describe san. but despite the events that have happened in his life, san has a lot going for himself. he’s a successful, sought out professor due to his brilliant contributions to science at just an early age of 32. he worked hard to get where he was now; head deep into his research, his publications, building his lab and creating a name for himself. everything was good and smooth sailing— until it wasn’t. because when he meets you, a bioengineering grad student interested in rotating in his lab, he finds himself ready to risk all the blood, sweat and tears he put in throughout the years just to keep you close— his need for you spiraling out of control like a wildfire.

—pairing: asst. professor!choi san x grad student!f. reader

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers to lovers, grad school au | fluff, angst, eventual smut

—word count: 4.3k

—chapter content/warnings: cussing/mature language, very much giving slow burn till chapter 5 (sawwie hehe but san/oc drop more hints in ch 3-4), mingi tryna be matchmaker but san's mind is elseeewhere (which will add a lil more spice to the spice thats already planned lol), flashback scene that involves crying & hints of infidelity

"Wow, there's a lot more people here than I expected." You tippy-toe to look over the crowd, falling in line to get your freebies at the entrance of the winter quarter welcome event.

"Do you know where the boys are at?"

"They said they were coming?" Eunchae says, also looking around and over the crowd. The line inches quickly, bringing you closer to the free university-branded hats and water bottles they were giving out. Today's event was not only to set the tone for the quarter, but to showcase all the student groups, benefits, and wellness programs available for everyone. As soon as you grab your freebies, you, Eunchae and Jurin completely forget about the boys making their way over and start walking around to grab more. You find that one of the student groups is handing out reusable bags, which you gladly take one in order to walk around comfortably. You, Jurin and Eunchae also participate in a few small games and raffles, taking pictures at the photobooths set up. Some university staff snap photos of you three while you wait in line to cash in your free lunch voucher at one of the food trucks. 

Once you've grabbed your food and settled down, the three of you find a good space on the lawn near the stage to slowly indulge in your food and the dessert. Namjoon is getting ready to start his speech for the event, while the other professors set to give a small talk are hovering off to the side engaging in conversation.

"Yo! Is anyone listening?" Professor Kim Namjoon, department chair of bioengineering, taps the mic a few times as he steps on the stage. He slowly paces around with a hand in his pocket, giving off a smile while he waits for everyone near the stage to quiet down and listen to his little speech. "Nice, nice. I'm grabbing attention, I still got it." He chuckles to himself. "Anyway, they had me come up here to kick off the welcome event. There's a good lineup of talks coming up, so please stick around for that. I promise it'll be worthwhile." Namjoon points to San. "Choi San is on the lineup. Kang Yeosang. Just to name a few. I know ya'll wanted to hear that in particular." He jokes. The crowd laughs when he gives everyone a certain look, scanning the crowd to read their expressions. "Alright, so another quarter—" Is how he starts his speech off, giving himself two minutes to give a heartwarming welcome to all the students, faculty and staff. The next session kicks off shortly after, with a few faculty members talking about their early days in their departments and what they're focusing on now. 

After Namjoon wraps it up, he introduces San and kicks it off for him— giving him a big, warm smile as he greets him on the stage and hands him the mic. He's dressed in a thick, black half-zip sweater, black slacks and boots. You briefly glance around the crowd, all eyes glued to Professor Choi; lots of people looking at him in pure admiration just like you and your friends. His talk flows well, and he easily transitions from talking about his early career days to where he is now and what his focus is. He speaks with so much poise and grace, it's obvious he's incredibly passionate about what he does. He has a softness to him, a certain glint in his eyes while he slowly paces the stage and maintains contact with his crowd. 

"He's so fucking dreamy, are you kidding?" Eunchae mumbles. You giggle and gently nudge her before returning your attention to the stage. Your eyes glance over to the side, smiling to yourself as Namjoon plays around with everyone around him. Professor Lee Iseul stands off to the side next to her husband, and they quietly remain to themselves. She watches as San does his talk, arms folded tightly against her chest and she couldn't look any more disinterested. You clearly don't know the full story, and it's definitely none of your business. But, you can't help but be a little curious as to what happened between her and Professor Choi and why she acts the way she does around him.

"Aye." Felix plops down next to you. "Where have you been, loca?" You snort, pushing him and causing him to almost fall to the side. "Ouch. We've been calling and texting!"

"Next time, don't be late." Jiung plops down next to him.

"We were trying to find the free smoothies and acai bowls!"

"Excuse me?" Jurin looks at Jiung. "Why didn't I know about this?!"

"Maybe cause you were too busy drooling over Professor Choi and his friends." Jurin sticks her tongue out at him. "It's over there. We just didn't get to it before coming to the lawn."

"I'm definitely going as soon as these talks are over." 

"I want some, too!" Eunchae adds.

"We can go." You chime in.

"We're gonna lose you guys again!" Felix slightly whines.

"You won't! You can just sit here and save our spot." Eunchae smiles with some sass. "That way, we have our spots and you won't lose us."

"Fine." Felix clicks his teeth before returning his attention to the stage. The rest of the talks also go well— Yeosang taking the stage next after San, with a few other professors. Iseul does a talk, and although San doesn't care much for it, he at least tries his best to show some support in front of the crowd and be the bigger person.

He does it to just keep the peace. Mainly for Namjoon. San knows he did a lot to try and bury all the mess that went down, even got in trouble for trying to do so. Namjoon cares about San and his other friends, he'd do anything to protect them. But yes, there is no denying that it was a shit show. 

Once all the talks have concluded, you, Eunchae and Jurin scurry off to the smoothie and acai booth, taking the boys' orders to kill two birds with one stone. The lawn and surrounding areas are back to being loud and chaotic with everyone trying to go around and finish grabbing freebies and samples, and participate in other games. You and your friends fall in line and wait for about 15 minutes before they've taken your orders, another 10 minutes before they've given you your drinks.

"Oh shit, this is good." Jurin sips on her drink as it sits in the carrier with Felix's and Jiung's. 

"It is. The boys finally have a good eye." You snort.

"Leave them be."

"What! It's true! I didn't think they'd care much for the stuff here at the event, but here they are, putting on their favorite girls to free smoothies." You laugh, sipping on your own matcha smoothie. Once Eunchae has gotten her drink, the three of you start to make your way back towards the boys on the lawn.

"Oop—" You let out a small squeal, damn near coming face to face with Professor's Choi's chest when you turn. He's about to grab his own smoothie from the worker when you quite literally almost run into him trying to keep up with Eunchae and Jurin. "Oh, I'm sorry Professor Choi." You feel the heat rise to your cheeks even though you didn't do anything wrong.

"No worries. Good morning, ladies." Professor Choi flashes you, Eunchae and Jurin that 100-watt, dimpled smile that everyone is crazy head over heels for. He does a curt bow to acknowledge you and your friends properly, Eunchae and Jurin biting on their bottom lips to prevent themselves from smiling too big and giggling too loud. "How are you doing?"

"Good. Really good. Great talk, by the way!" Eunchae says, making him chuckle at her reaction. "How are you doing?"

"Aw, thanks. I'm good, can't complain. You guys having a good start to the quarter already?"

"I'd say so, yeah. Can't complain either." Jurin adds, holding onto the drink tray tightly. He nods, but turns his direct attention to you with a small smile. "Y/N. Excited to meet next week and talk about projects."

"I am, too." His eyes linger on yours for a little longer and Eunchae doesn't miss it. She gives your arm a good, subtle [but hard] squeeze— one that has you slightly squirming in her grip while trying to maintain eye contact with Professor Choi. He furrows his brows a bit when he catches it, trying his best not to chuckle at the way you and your friends are acting around him.

"Yo!" Mingi says, patting San's shoulder. His eyes go from him to the three girls in front, still lingering around. "Beautiful morning, ladies! Hope you're enjoying the event." 

"Hi Professor Song." You all say dreamily, watching as the taller man chuckles and bounces to the music playing. 

"Sorry to have to do this, but mind if I steal Professor Choi from you?"

"Go for it!" You respond. "See you next week, Professor Choi." You smile sweetly at him and he swears he feels his knees buckle a bit. He watches as the three of you turn and squeal, definitely talking about them as you continue to walk away and find other things to distract yourselves with.

"What's new?" Mingi laughs, making San chuckle.

"Stop it. They're just enjoying themselves." Mingi gives him a look that screams 'sure, whatever you say,' but he keeps it professional. Doesn't make any side comments and keeps it at bay, even though he enjoys the eye candy himself. They're still young. Although work and keeping up with their labs is tough, they're finally out of school— which their days only consisted of science, publishing papers, graduating ASAP and launching their own careers. Of course, they've had their shares in relationships, one night stands, situationships; whatever you wanna call it, all clearly not working out because of all the work they've had to put in. The attention they've had to put into their education, early careers. It has become such a norm for them that a relationship isn't even in their minds right now. Not because they don't want to, but because they're afraid. Afraid of not having enough time while they're still balancing their loads, afraid they'll accidentally put their relationships on a backburner. Afraid of things just falling out terribly. Mingi can honestly say he's afraid because of how San's marriage unfolded. Of course, all experiences are unique, but it still doesn't mean he can't be afraid of his own. 

Once they've gotten a better hang of things, then maybe. Right now, everything seems risky. Everything.

"Mmkay." Mingi snorts. "Good talk earlier."

"Thanks, my guy." San smiles. "They asked me to do it last minute because someone else dropped the ball."

"That was a nice impromptu talk then." Mingi and San start walking down the path, greeting other faculty and students that pass them by. "How is your progress report going?"

"Almost done now that I've gotten my class schedule out of the way."

"You have two TAs this semester, right?"

"Mhm. Alex is actually doing a bulk of the classes, then the TAs. I'm teaching 8 classes this entire quarter."

"That's nice." 

"What about you?"

"Around the same. I've got Doyun helping take over most lectures, along with the TAs."

"Can't believe it's another quarter."

"Time just flies." He nods towards another group of professors. "By the way, have you met the new Applied Physics professor? Zara?"

"What's her last name?"

"Cho."

"Oh." San nods. "Yeah, heard of her. I saw the announcement about her starting, but that's it."

"Let's go say hi." Mingi smirks, causing San to furrow his brows in confusion.

"Why?"

"Don't we like meeting new people?"

"For good reason, yeah. Not yours."

"Hey, mine is a good reason. Who says it isn't?" Mingi smiles. "You know, just making her feel welcomed." He lazily hangs his arm over her shoulder. "Discussing potential collaborations, joint advising." San rolls his eyes, shaking his head just as they approach the group. 

"Yeah, let's keep it there." 

"Maybe—" Mingi suddenly shifts his attention to the group as soon as they face him and greet the both of them. Phew, San thinks. Now he doesn't have to hear the stupid shit bound to come out of his mouth. "Hey!"

"I was looking for you two." Namjoon has hands dug deep into his pockets with that usual Namjoon smile of his, Yeosang on his free side. "Wanted to introduce you to Zara Cho." He looks down at her and gestures at the two. "Zara, this is Mingi and San. Both under bioengineering with me, Mingi in Biology by courtesy, too."

"Oh, I've heard all about you two." She smiles. She's got a beautiful smile, and San notices the way her eyes glaze over him the most. She's attractive, and she's softspoken; has a certain grace that she upholds. Her hair is in a pretty bob that comes right below her jawline, and it fits her well. "It's an honor, truly." She says, shaking their hands.

"So, how's it been on campus so far?" San asks.

"It's been alright, I think. Settling in well and trying to get a hang of things."

"Thats good! Taking it day by day." She nods in agreement with a small giggle. "How's getting the lab situated going?" Mingi chimes in.

"Ah, it's tough but I at least have a post-doc and grad student onboard." She shrugs.

"It's a start. Sooner or later, it'll be overflowing with them." She giggles and nods.

"Yeah, that's the hope." She fully turns to San again. "Now that I'm a bit settled, I was hoping we could chat a bit more, San." Mingi shoots him this certain Mingi look before slowly nodding with a smirk.

"Yeah, that'd be great."

"Don't you have a free schedule in the afternoon?" Mingi instigates, making San furrow his brows in confusion.

"Uh yeah, but I was hoping to—" Mingi nudges him.

"Sure you can make a few minutes, yeah?" Namjoon chuckles. San doesn't mean to shrug her off or anything. Truthfully, he can get pretty shy and he is aware of the work she does. He just doesn't wanna make a fool out of himself, and he wants to make sure their conversation is productive; as with any he has.

"We can meet any time, no worries." 

"No, they're right. Later is good. My office is at the Harvey Center."

"I can stop by later in the afternoon if you're around? 4:30 or 5?"

"4:30 is good."

"Cool." She looks around before checking her watch. "Hate to cut this short, but I have to head back for a meeting." She gives everyone a curt bow. "See you all around?" Everyone says bye in their own ways before Namjoon and Yeosang close the gap in between them, Mingi and San.

"I knew I couldn't trust your reasoning." San glares at Mingi and he chuckles.

"Bruh, I told you. Collaborations and co-advisorships are in the works." Namjoon laughs.

"He's not entirely wrong but, she seemed to be a big fan of your work. Thought it'd be good to chat with her anyway."

"I don't trust you guys." Yeosang snorts.

"Just have a good productive meeting." Yeosang pauses. "And if it ever flourishes into anything, we'll be right there to support—"

"I knew it. I'm heading back to my office." San starts to walk away from the group, sipping on this smoothie.

"Just want you happy!" Namjoon yells.

"I am already!" San smirks before saluting at the three and heading back to the Harvey Center. He greets people on the way over to his office, checking in on a few of his lab members before shutting himself away in his office. San likes to think he's happy. He feels happy. He doesn't think he's lacking anywhere even though for the longest time, he felt like he was after his marriage fell apart. It took him a long time to get to where he is now, and he hopes he'll never go back to feeling that way. Feeling hurt, lost. Betrayed.

—FLASHBACK

"Hey." Jongho looks at San with concern, stepping aside to let him into his home. San gives him a forced, tiny smile, but doesn't say much— immediately making his way to Jongho's couch. Jongho can tell it's been a rough couple of days, San looking more exhausted than he's ever seen him. His eyes are red. Hair's a mess. He can tell San hasn't had a proper meal or sleep, yet he's still coming into work like he's okay. 

He can only imagine how difficult it is. To have someone go from being your world— to absolutely nothing. Your bestfriend being the most trusted person on earth— to nothing.

"What's going on?" Jongho feels like it's such a stupid question, but he isn't sure how to break the silence right now and he needs to. He watches San sink into the couch and just let out a sigh, and it's clear he's about to release everything he's been holding in. "What happened?" Jongho repeats in a different form.

"Where the fuck did I go wrong?" Jongho sees his bottom lip trembling before he buries his head into his hands and starts sobbing. It breaks his heart to see his bestfriend like this; he wishes he could tell him everything will be okay because he knows it will, even though it feels like miles away right now. He wishes that'll be enough. He wishes he could just take the pain away and shove it somewhere else. Because someone like San, someone who loves hard and deep, someone who is loyal until the very end, doesn't deserve this.

"You didn't go wrong anywhere. It was never you, San."

"Why would they do this to me? Why didn't she just talk to m-me about everything? How could she do that so easily?" He continues to mumble as he cries, Jongho rubbing a hand down his back. He truly hates this. He has never seen San so defeated.

Destroyed.

"Because they're both immature and didn't care. I know this is a lot easier said than done but this isn't worth it. You don't need her. You don't need him. They don't deserve you and you'll find someone who'll truly love you for you and who wouldn't even dare do this to you. I'm sorry it had to happen to you, but I promise you'll find someone better. Worth everything. Let yourself feel this out and process it, but once you do, brush it off and continue to move on." San doesn't say anything because Jongho is right; he still needs to process this, and he still needs to feel this out in order to properly move on. 

"Jongho, I don't even know how I'll make it past this. I really don't know how I can."

"You will. Give yourself some time, but in the end, you'll come out stronger and you'll realize why all of this was never meant for you in the first place. There's always a reason, one being that something way better is in the works." San doesn't say anything, but he continues to cry. He continues to wallow in his sadness, what's left of his heart crumbling to pieces and shattering. He knows this is only temporary— but that light, the 'better' that Jongho speaks of, seemed so, so far away.

Unreachable.

—END

San shakes off the thoughts and continues to power through his work, getting through other emails and lab financials he needs to sort through. He's also skimming over his class schedule and hopping into a quick kick-off call with his TAs and lecturers this quarter. 

Sooner or later, time flies on by and he's wrapping things up, getting ready to meet with Zara. He realizes he didn't give her any details on how to get to his office, so he grabs his phone and heads upstairs to wait for her. 

"Hi!" She rushes in, heels clicking against the floor. "Sorry, I'm running a few minutes late." San chuckles and shakes his head.

"No, don't even worry about it. I, uh.. just realized I never gave you proper directions to my office and the lab." San digs his hands into his pockets and presses the button to the elevator. "How was the rest of your day?"

"Good, busy. Just feels like it's nonstop." She giggles, stepping in next to him but with some distance. 

"Mm, yeah. I get that feeling all too well." He laughs. "But, it'll settle in due time." Luckily, the elevator ride isn't too awkward and it's quick— prompting San to step out and lead her down the basement hallway. "I can show you around the lab."

"Do you still have lab members lingering around?"

"Oh, always. They're always holed up in a behavior room or doing surgeries. Some of them really just prefer to work late nights so they don't have to share the space and equipment with anybody."

"Makes sense." She smiles up at him and he nods. He continues to show her around, taking her room by room; allowing her to see his wetbench lab space, his behavior rooms, laser rooms and the mice. She's impressed by how tidy and kept together the lab is despite so many people running around and being together in one space. It's bound to get messy and chaotic, and it does, sometimes. He explains that he tries really hard to keep his space clean and organized, emphasizing it to his lab members so much that they do actually listen especially when it's time for them to go and start their own careers. He's never had a problem with anyone leaving mess behind. He always tells people it's a space for another person to grow and they take that to heart. It's the least they could do after San has been nothing but supportive of them during their time in the lab.

Afterwards, he takes her into his office and she compliments him on all his awards. He rubs at his chin to brush off the heat rising to his cheeks, sitting onto computer chair to talk to her a little more about her plans. She even turns to him for advice about how to keep things steady once they get going, how to tour the labs with donors properly, how to successfully snag grants and funding for the future. The conversation turns out to be a long, productive one, even though San doesn't feel like he's qualified enough to give great advice. Yes, he's done most of it on his own but a lot of it was through Namjoon's guidance. He does slip that in there, giving her a nudge to talk to him a bit further about the perfect grants to go for at this stage, things to do to keep recruiting great postdocs and lab students, funding in the meantime. She appreciates all the guidance and help— so much that the conversation continues even as San packs up and heads out of the office with her.

He does enjoy their conversation, but he definitely could tell you he wouldn't take this anywhere even if his friends tried to push him into doing so. He respects her, he respects her work and he respects her as a colleague.

"Look, look, look!" Eunchae grabs your arm and pulls you aside. She stops in her tracks and nods towards the other side of the street, spotting San speaking to Zara. "He's talking to the new applied physics professor. Professor Cho or something."

"I heard a bit about her work. She's really smart."

"And pretty." You nod in agreement. "He's legit walking her to her car and everything. What if they're into each other already?! Or, do you think it's a tap and dash thing? Do you think Professor Choi is an undercover hoe?"

"Girl?" You look at her questioningly. "What do I do with you?" You laugh and playfully nudge her. "Professor Choi is probably just trying to be a good colleague to her."

"Yeah, okay. She's definitely interested, though. Look at the way she looks up at him. I mean, who wouldn't be?"

"Definitely can't get anything by you, can I?"

"Nope. I'm excited for your rotation with him."

"Excited for the wrong reasons." You playfully run a hand down her hair. "Get out of your head, missy." She snorts.

"I can only dream and live through you." You laugh and link your arm with hers, carrying onto the gym. Meanwhile, Zara finds her way to her car with San in tow.

"Well, it was great talking to you, San." San smiles and nods, watching as Zara gets into her car in one of the smaller lots near the Harvey Center. "Thanks for showing me around your lab and for all your advice."

"Yeah, of course. Let me know if you need anything else. Happy to help. Maybe I can swing by once your lab is settled and kicking off." She nods. "But, definitely try to catch Namjoon and get that old man's wisdom." She laughs.

"Of course. Will do. Have a good rest of your evening." He gently taps the hood of her car before giving her a small nod.

"You as well, drive safely." He waits until she gets settled in her car and drives off before slowly walking over to his car in the usual lot he parks at. He catches sight of you and Eunchae walking towards the gym, your laughs echoing as you seem to be joking around, playfully pushing each other and in good spirits. Hearing your laugh brings a small smile to his face, remembering the events earlier today.

He can't help but be a little flattered, even a little curious as to what exactly you think about him.

��taglist: @asjkdk @interweab @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs @persphonesorchid @mxnsxngie @jycas @cowboydk @vcutparis @chngbnwf @struggling101 @sanhwalvr @angelqueendom @barbielibra @brown88 @choisansplushie @yunhoswrldddd @hyukssunflower @vickykazuya @lucid-galaxys-world

[bambisnc]

late night conversations [ft. j.wy]

-> pt2 of this [recap] -> you’re just about to point out that you are, in fact, just a fake girlfriend but before you can wonyoung interrupts you, tilting your face towards her in a way that leaves your lips inches away from hers (and leaves you completely breathless), her tone dripping with urgency, “he’s looking. kiss me now.”

pairing : wony x reader genre : fluffyy/crack/angstish + fake dating trope! cw/tw : kissing + super lowk suggestive + u dont have to read pt1 but u'd get a lil bg so + uneditted oohf ;-; wc : 2! pages! in google docs yayay

“well aren’t you just the best kisser ever~” 

“jang wonyoung do you want me to cry.”

your fake girlfriend’s arm drapes itself over your shoulder, “but yn.. i’m the one who’s sad.. you know, i’d asked my girlfriend to kiss me, but she ended up biting my lip. i think i even saw a little blood…” you try to push her figure off of you, only for her to loop another under your knees and position you to sit on her lap with astonishing ease.

“or should i take it to mean that you were just that excited to kiss me, hmm~?” she’s teasing you, trying to rile you up – you know that. 

but since when did fake dating involve.. this much intimacy? wonyoung is still whining about how much your action pained her, you panicked okay?!, but the casual way she rests her hand on your hip and her face nuzzles into your neck, placing kisses which seem to be dangerously lowering with every successive brush of her lips on your skin.., just seems a bit too real to be considered a show.

when you’d asked her, wonyoung had an answer ready at the tip of her tongue, “we need to practice; yn c’mon you seriously don’t expect people to believe us if you keep acting all stiff. we need practice.” and voila, she’d invited herself into your house.

you ignored the dull glint of .. something you couldn’t really understand in her usually bright eyes. you ignored how her rigid expression felt like a knife to your heart.

“hey.,” 2 hands press against your face, forcing your lips into a little pout, “pay attention to me.” you think she’s still being playful, but her expression is the most serious you’ve ever seen it.. 

and then, a featherlight touch of her lips on yours.

it leaves you a little dizzy, to be honest. you’ve kissed before, and this was barely even considerable comparing your past ‘practice’ sessions with wonyoung.. so maybe it’s something about this moment in particular. 

you’d long accepted that she’d only remain a hallway crush, an alluring daydream. because you knew there was no way you could get over her unless.. unless maybe if you got the closure you needed. that you and her could never happen. which was why you’d accepted her plea to be her fake girlfriend. 

you’d hope the way she was basically using you would be enough to knock some sense back into your love lost brain. but it didn’t. you realized if it was wonyoung, you’d be okay with her doing whatever, however, whenever she wanted.

and maybe.. maybe your feelings weren’t completely hopeless. maybe you had a chance.

“wah yn- c’mon do you want me to beg?” wonyoung asks, her arms now moving to pull you closer to her, embracing you ever so tenderly, “i’ll do it if you want, you know? pleasee~ tell me why you were late to the party? you said something about an issue?”

you sigh, “it’s..complicated. a really long story. and it’s 2 am..”

“so? we have all the time in the world.” 

it’s really hard to argue with her in your current position, especially when her fingers are tracing soothing, mindless patterns on your back.

wonyoung decides you need further convincing, mumbling a “i want you to speak your mind around me yn.. let that mask of yours drop now.. please?” to do so.

gods, at this point you’d even tell her all your banking information if she wanted you to.

notes : honorary dedication to yuyu again n @elliesrosetoy ! (ily btoh) !! &lt;3 + [m.list] (lowkey thinking of a pt3,, lmk tho!)

update -> [pt.3] !! [series m.list]

[cursingtoji]

ᥫ᭡ — EXECUTIVE AFFAIRS: In a cutthroat world of boardroom battles and power struggles, you must navigate ambition , corporate intrigue, and unexpected love affairs.

✧ PRELUDE

— contents: CEO!reader, construction worker!Toji, lawyer!Nanami, therapist!Geto, ex-husband!Gojo; power imbalance, sexual frustration, manipulation, use of 'darling', 'baby', 'dear' & 'boss', 4k words, on-going series

— note: osha is the occupational safety and health administration agency in the USA, even tho i'm not american seems easier to just say osha (also a fun word to pronunce)

A young man opens the rear door of the Jaguar as soon as your driver stops by the construction site, “This way ma’am” you accept his hand, touching the cement with your stiletto first before getting out of the vehicle.

As scheduled you are heading to a meeting with the architect responsible for this particular project, a big one. Normally the CEO wouldn’t be involved in such routine visits like this, but you definitely don’t want to be like the previous CEO, who barely stepped out of his office for anything.

Besides, you have to make a good impression with the other directors that would be there today as well, and what better way to do that if not going to the construction site yourself, even though you clearly do not belong there given the way your heel wobbled as soon as it touched the uneven ground.

“Excuse me, miss” you’re stopped by a man twice your size — horizontally and almost vertically — extending a white helmet in your direction, “I’m sure that hair costed a lot and you don’t wanna cover it, but every person on site, even the ladies, ‘gotta wear it.”

You stand a bit shocked at the man addressing you like it’s not your last name on his uniform.

“Mr. Fushiguro, I should inform you that it’s your CEO you’re talking to” the boy beside you speaks up, he’s wearing a white helmet and the unknown man a yellow one.

“Great, so you are able to afford the OSHA fine if they decide today is a good day for inspection, but I’d rather not have another pointless safety training just ‘cause no one had the balls to tell you to protect your pretty ‘lil head” his expression doesn’t change a bit with the new information. You find that respectable, especially having so many people stuttering when talking to you.

If you were to say that you don’t get even a little bit amused by people being nervous in your presence Nanami would have to warn you about perjury. 

It’s quite a change to have a blue collar employee sticking to the rules and not batting an eye when the highest possible authority of the company is standing right in front of him, especially when that someone looks like he just got out of a sexy construction men calendar… not that you have ever seen one of those. That’s just what you think they might look like, plus that scar only adds up to fantasy.

You clean your throat, “I appreciate your work ethic, Mr. Fushiguro” you repeat the name so you won’t forget, “I wasn’t aware of the rules” you side-look the young man beside you who’s now staring at his own feet embarrassed since it was his duty to inform you.

“Call me Toji” you take the helmet and put it on, “By the way, you’re supposed to wear trousers too and… literally anything but that” he points with his chin to your high heels thinking how that alone was a safety hazard not just on a construction site. Toji leans closer “but I’ll let it slide, ‘cause you have quite beautiful legs.”

You are left mouth agape, internally appreciating that he didn’t say that out loud — after all being sexualized when you are trying to impose respect would require you to put a show and fire the man — but also makes you question if he was straight forward with you because of his work ethics or because he does not respect you as his superior. 

Not that you wouldn’t let him do disrespectful things to you, but still!

You’re taken to where the rest of the directors are, they’re easy to spot — a bunch of men in suits that clearly don’t belong to the place — surrounding a table with the blue prints. They greet you and you realize this is the first time you see all of them around a table and not sitting, poor guys must be dying for a room with AC right now.

It’s not like you belonged there either, with your tailor made beige suit that had a pencil skirt instead of the newly-discovered-necessary trousers and how-the-fuck-you-thought-that-was-a-good-idea high heels. But in your own defense you did visit a lot of construction sites when you first started at the company all those years ago and that’s much more than the white collar men in front of you can say.

The main architect starts to give you all an status of the project being interrupted by the senior engineer every few minutes, the last one clearly thinking he’s better than the first even though neither of them lifts a finger in this ground.

Your sight is drawn to the man that scolded you before, while the architect is pointing to something on top of the construction and everyone else is shielding their eyes from the sun to find it, you’re looking straight ahead to Toji who’s currently lifting an apparently very heavy sack of cement on his shoulder and taking it all across the site. God, he’s strong.

His handsome face shines with sweat, you’re sure the wife beater he has on also violates some OSHA code, but who would be crazy enough to report that? Not you for sure, the view is worth the OSHA fine.

Especially when he drops the sack with a grunt and uses the shirt to wipe his face, revealing a torso you’re sure Michelangelo would die to use as inspiration to sculpt into marble then having people saying ‘whoa that’s real art’. 

You wonder if someone would scream at you for touching that piece of art.

Unfortunately you don’t expect to get caught ogling by the subject himself. So the best thing you can do is find whatever the architect is pointing to and pretend to pay attention like you should have from the beginning instead of eye fucking one of your employees.

“Hey, boss” you hear on your way out of the site and back to your cozy office where you wouldn’t get your ankle broken that easily. You turn around and see Toji catwalking his way to you.

“Technically I'm out of the hazard zone, mr. Fushiguro” you justify your lack of a helmet which you ditched a few seconds ago.

“Toji” he corrects you, taking his own helmet off “and I’m not this uptight, unlike some people here today” he mutters the last part looking behind him to some of the directors that seemed to be looking for tiny errors on the project so they could fix it and justify being there.

“Well, what can I do for you?”

“I’m pretty sure you're being robbed.” 

“What?” you look around, “What do you mean?”

“You’re paying for double the stuff that’s actually being delivered” he took a sheet of folded paper out of his pants, you reach for it but he pulls it back, “I have proof and I can say names.”

“Did you say that to your field supervisor?”

“Please, who do ya think it’s signin’ under this?” he rolls his eyes.

“So you came to the CEO instead? You’re going behind some big backs here, sir.”

“Look, miss, I want a promotion, I know a lot of big shots will go down for this and I’m the only one capable of handling the people here. Besides I stand by what I said before, no one has the guts to do this so I’m taking a big risk and I deserve compensation” he hands back the paper and this time he let you take it. You stare into his deep green eyes suspiciously, the man has the looks of a fantasy villain with his sharp features and dark eyelashes, you're not entirely sure if you should believe him.

“Give your number to my assistant, we’ll schedule a meeting in the office, you tell me everything you know and I see what I can do about it.”

“In the office? Didn’t know you allowed commonores in your castle” he smirks.

“Only the pretty ones” you wink and his smile grows wider. 

“How long have you known about this?” Nanami questions.

“Not even 24 hours” you sit on your white couch signing for him to take the seat in front of you.

Your lawyer does that thing you find really hot where he unbuttons the coat of his five digit worth suit before sitting down. You admire Nanami’s elegance while he roams his eyes through the paper, he has a vest between the coat and the dress shirt. Navy blue suits him so well, matches his eyes. He makes you think every man should wear vests, but of course not every man can pull it off. Honestly, you find it hard to believe there's anything Nanami can’t pull off, but you haven't seen your lawyer without a suit… ever. 

Maybe he looks bad with a plain T-shirt? 

No way. 

Perhaps with an overall and cowboy hat? 

Mmm the image makes you wanna ride something. 

What about emo hair, eyeliner and a band tee? 

No, you can’t imagine Kento with emo hair, no chance he had a rebellious phase except if his parents wanted him to be a surgeon and he became the best lawyer in the city just to piss them off. 

“I’m glad you came to me first, but we’ll need to involve auditing and probably internal affairs. That’ll probably put the project on hold for some weeks, also I’ll need more evidence than this” he shook the one paper sheet that was merely a quotation of supplies even you could understand is way too much for a single building.

“I got the guy for that, say the word and Yuuta will arrange a meeting” you pointed to your assistant sitting outside.

“Tell me, dear” he put the sheet aside, taking that posture that intimidated you a bit, “A blue collar worker just saw your pretty self on the site and handed criminal evidence? Just like that?”

You open your mouth, thinking what to say that won’t sound like you are being taken advantage of, and failing.

“Oh darling” he says a bit too condescendingly for someone that technically works for you, “Thought I told you about being too naive” he leans on the couch, making himself comfortable like you’re about to have The Talk.

“Kento, is not like that” you cross your arms defensively, “He said he wants a promotion, how risky that would be?”

“Thought you would say that” he takes his phone and hands it to you, “So I did my own little research.”

“What’s this?” you find yourself looking at a picture of the man you met yesterday. 

Only now you could see tiny numbers behind him indicating his height and he held a plaque with his name. He looks way younger, still very handsome, you wonder how popular he used to be in his youth, with a face like that and the implication he was arrested was enough to make every girl’s bad-boy-dream come true.

“What was he accused of?” you ask out of curiosity.

“Not relevant, also sealed records” he breaks eye contact and that’s enough for you to understand he actually knows it and he did not get this information by any legal means.

“So what? The man got a bit of trouble with the law when he was young” you shrug, remembering even your ex husband had a little rich boy “criminal” file, if you can even call the dumb shit he did outta spite for his parents an actual crime.

“HR will find out about this, then you’re going to have to justify why you’re recommending a filled man for a managing position.”

“And I’ll tell them he actually found out about a theft scheme and whatever public-pissing crime he did will surely be overlooked.”

“Darling, you have to start thinking about your image, we’ve been through that before” he tilts his head.

“You don’t like my image?” you question playfully twirling your hair, Nanami smiles for a brief second.

“You know what I mean: your image towards the board, you barely made the votes necessary to be where you are today.”

Indeed, you owned the company and no one could take that away, but the CEO position needed to be voted and you only got the necessary votes because your ex-husband had the strongest voting rights and part of the divorce agreement was that he voted for you, so his, plus a few more other members of the board's votes and you made chief executive officer.

“Fine, then write a contract, he tells everything including testify if he has to in exchange of the supervisor position and I’ll pitch it to the board before any decisions are made” you uncross your arms raising from your seat.

Bringing the board into the conversation made you nervous, most of them don't like you and you’ve been trying to prove yourself for months. Even though you worked your ass off way before marrying the owner all they saw was a hurt ex-wife making pretend.

“Atta girl” Nanami raises too, buttoning his coat back and placing his hands on your tense shoulders. Nanami smells like what you think it should be every handsome lawyer's trademark scent, cause damn that smell would make you sign anything he gives you.

“Don’t worry much, you’re doing great” he presses a bit and you melt.

“Take me out to lunch?” you pout.

“I would love to” he lets go of your shoulder, “Unfortunately I have a hearing, but I'll be back for that meeting soon, okay?”

You sigh in defeat, getting even a few minutes of Nanami’s time for yourself is as hard as it can get, only a corruption scheme to get him to come to your office in such short notice.

“Ma’am” Yuuta says from the speakerphone, “Your ex-husband is calling” you groan, throwing your head back.

Of course he would want to interrupt your moment with Nanami.

“I can get you a restriction order” your lawyer offers jokily (or not).

Aside from being the company's lawyer, Nanami Kento was also your divorce attorney, which you managed to get only after agreeing to give him your company's account if he managed to land you the CEO position. Like everything in this merciless corporate world, it was give and take, you got what you wanted – not surprisingly so, afterall Nanami, even though is not a divorce specialist, is the best. Still, you like to think of him being more than another contractor of yours.

“I appreciate the offering” you smile tiredly, Nanami kisses your hand like the gentleman he is before leaving your office, “Yuuta, I’ll take him– it. I’ll take the call” you sit back behind your desk massaging your temple “Put him through.”

“Hello, beautiful” he greets over the speakerphone in that always so cheerful tone.

“Satoru, what do you want?”

“No chit-chat? It’s the least you could do for me after I gave you the company” entitled as always…

“You didn’t give it to me, you gave it up for the rest of your assets” you remind, already sick of this same discussion over and over.

When the divorce was officially on the table you told Kento exactly what you wanted: the company. The one thing you knew your ex husband would hate to lose, but also didn’t love as much as his lifestyle – which would be brutally affected if you decided to go for the 50% you were entitled to.

So through a carefully written agreement you accepted way less than you were owed in the form of full ownership of the respected construction company and title of chief executive officer.

“Six of one, half a dozen of the other. How have you been?”

“Fine. Just tell me what you want, I actually take this job seriously and have important things to do.”

Oh god, he would tease you so bad if he knew about the corruption scheme, and the worst part is that, eventually, he will know. Gojo has ears everywhere around here.

“Nanami” he says simply. You start to look around your office, wondering if he has cameras there.

“You… want… Nanami?”

“Yes, beautiful” he confirms slowly like he's talking to a kid that has just learned the alphabet.

“Why? You know what? Nevermind, I don't want to know. No, you can’t have him” you lean on your chair, denying Gojo gives you great satisfaction.

“It’s not for any bullshit reason, alright?”

“I don’t care, Satoru. Besides, I don’t own Kento, you can approach him anytime” you smile knowing he would never be able to do that without you.

“Aren’t you a sweetheart?” condescension drips from your phone and onto your desk, “He won’t represent me even if I run for president.”

“So you need legal representation? You’re not calling me from jail, are you Satoru?” you mirror his condescending tone, surely he can hear the smile in your voice.

“Thought you didn't care, or would you bail me out? Oh wait, I forgot, you don’t have the money for that” he laughs, arguing was never a thing with him, he would mock you and find a way to make you doubt your accusations. Gaslighting is it? “I’ll give it a shot, just so you know, but this is a great opportunity for you to ask something in return.”

“I don’t want anything from you.”

“Think about it, baby, I’m sure there's plenty of things I can do for you” his tone is lower, more seductive.

“Doubt it” you roll your eyes hearing his chuckle.

“Yeah? When was the last time you had–” 

You hang up.

Then sigh loudly and press the button to talk to Yuuta.

“Yes, ma’am?” you scrunch your nose, still not used to being called that, Nanami said you should let your sweet assistant call you ma'am or madam at least in front of others since you could use the recognition of your authority.

“Please put Geto on the line.”

“Certainly” you wait, stepping out of your heels and digging your toes on the fluff carpet under the table.

“Hi, doc” you salute your psychologist.

“Sugar, I told you there’s no need to address me like that, hurts my feelings” his honeyed voice is everything you need to hear in such stressful times.

“It does? Maybe you should see a therapist to talk about that, I have a great recommendation” you can’t help but smile like a little girl when talking to him, being playful is a way to cope with your harmless crush.

“Just great?”

“He’s the best, I can assure you” he laughs, “Do you have a few minutes?”

“For you, absolutely” your face warms up then you remember the subject of the call and cools down again.

“It’s Satoru.”

‘It’s always Satoru’ Geto thinks.

“He just called wanting something, I told him no and he made that same old joke about me not having money” you huffed.

“And how do you feel about that?”

“Helpless? I don't know, he must think I’m poor now or something” which is ridiculous, you’re not nearly close to his patrimony as you used to when you were married but what you have is still fuckload more than what it takes to be considered poor.

“He’s trying to remind you of what you lost when you left him, this is just another manipulation technique, my love. Don’t let him get in your head” you need this as a mantra to hear every time your ex-husband calls, “Did he bring up sex this time?”

“No, but he was about to.”

“And what did you say?”

“Hanged up” you hear him snorting.

“Well, that can work on the phone, but what if you were talking face to face? What would you have done?”

Geto knows a lot about you. Obviously since you pay him to listen while you ramble and complain. Still, feels overwhelming having someone recalling your previous actions, especially the ones you're not exactly proud of.

“Tell him to shut up, throw a stapler on him, call security, threaten him with a restriction order.”

“Would you really?” Geto likes to take a joke you make and dig on that.

“Well, probably not the last two…” 

“Have you been looking up restriction orders?”

“No, that was a joke my lawyer made early. A restriction order would be too… bureaucratic? Also unnecessary, afterall Satoru he never physically hurt me or threatened to.”

“That would be a good way of making him leave you alone for a while since you're not able to fully detach from him” you sat up.

“That's not true! I’ve been doing everything by myself lately, don't even have time to think about him! I’m detached, doc.”

“Wanna know what I think you would have done if he made that sexual comment face to face with you?” you gulp and Geto takes your silence as consent to continue, “I think you would let him go forward with it.”

You make an offended sound but don't fight his statement, “And what would happen next?” he tones the question like a professor trying to make the class complete a sentence, you keep your head down and mouth shut, “You would’ve let him sweet talk you into sleeping with him again.”

“You don't know that” you murmur.

“It’s a pattern, love. This is how abusive husbands keep their wives from leaving them or even telling anyone about the abuse. They use sex to make them think how good it is to be with them despite everything else.”

“Satoru was not abusive.” you defend your ex-husband firmly, “And I already left him!” you defend yourself less firmly.

“And he still thinks he can have you back! You know why?”

“Because I’m a catch that he shouldn’t have cheated?” Geto stays quiet for a few seconds and you feel a lump in your throat forming. The comment was supposed to sound more like a joke but you're still too hurt for that , clearly.

“That as well, but you really think he regrets it?”

“He seemed pretty sorry in the divorce mediation” you murmur recalling his lost-puppy expression.

“The meeting where he signed a paper that would make him lose his company and his wife? Gee I wonder why” the little sarcastic remark made you smile and shake your head, your psychologist using sarcasm against you is quite funny, “My point is, if you really want to be independent from him you ‘gotta stop letting yourself be attracted back like a magnet” you let his words sink in hearing some papers being ruffled on his side.

“I’m giving you homework.”

“Oh no…”

“Find your sexuality by yourself, you can watch porn, masturbate or even better: have sex with someone. Anyone but Satoru, because right now that’s what he’s using to control you.”

“Geto, I don’t know about this. Porn is too gross, masturbation is too ineffective and sex is too…” you trail off.

“Vulnerable?” he completes.

“I guess…”

“It’s been a few months since you last slept with Satoru, right? What’re you feeling?”

“What do you mean?” you rub your face.

“You know what I mean” he's strict and you let out a long sigh.

“I feel frustrated, sometimes stressed and distracted” all caused by the men you have to deal with including the handsome psychologist putting some sense in you. Not exactly what you wanted him to put in, but oh well…

“Exactly, in your current state it’s only a matter of time until you end up on his bed. You gotta decide if you are willing to: find porn that is not gross, masturbate more effectively or let yourself relax and be vulnerable.”

Is easy to like Geto Suguru, he’s handsome, has a sweet voice, he listens without interrupting (manterrupting is a big no-no for this job thankfully). Though sometimes it’s easy to hate him too, you have to remember he's saying what you need to hear not what you want to, even if your ears could use some tickling from time to time.

“Still with me?” he asks after you remain quiet.

“Yes, doc” he says your name in a warning tone, “Sorry, Suguru.”

“All good for our appointment next week?”

“Hm” your thoughts go to the newly found out corruption scheme that will need your attention the following days, “I’ll ask Yuuta to confirm with your secretary alright?”

“Whatever works best for you, love.”

“Bye, Suguru.”

“Don’t forget your homework.”

🏷️ @rinntvrou @sakurasimppp @sad-darksoul — to be tagged in future works of this series please comment “@ me” in this post.

note: i’m not sure if tickle the ears is a known term worldwide but means “saying or suggesting things to please even if untrue”. also i have some big plans for kinktober so next chapter might take a little while to be posted, let me know your thoughts <3

© all content belongs to cursingtoji; do not repost!

[serpentandlily]

Lost in a Labyrinth Part III Teaser

Lost in a Labyrinth Part III Teaser

Azriel x Reader

Summary: Lonely and heartbroken after his near kiss with Elain, Azriel finds himself at the door to the most exclusive pleasure house in Hewn City, The Labyrinth, taking Rhysand’s cruel advice. What he expected to find was a pretty girl to warm a bed with him for a single night. But instead he finds something he never thought existed—his mate. A mate that is tangled up in something far more sinister than he could ever imagine.

A/n: guys I thought I’d have a lot more time to write today and I, unfortunately, don’t :(( but here’s another lil sneak peek at what’s to come in the Labyrinth Series!

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Part III Teaser

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

…and when he shall die,

Take him and cut him out in little stars,

And he will make the face of heaven so fine

That all the world will be in love with night

And pay no worship to the garish sun.

- William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

The First Attempt

Poison was the easiest and cleanest way to kill somebody. It involved very little effort on your part, just a slip of the hand to pour the poison into their drink when they weren't looking. It usually didn't involve blood or puke unless you got one of the nastier poisons, which you never did anyways. Some of the girls were more sadistic though and well, you couldn't blame them for it.

But while it was the simplest method of killing someone, it was probably one of the harder ones to pull off. First, faeries had very good senses, especially when it came to smell. One sniff of their drink could expose the poison in it, unless you were able to get your hands on one of the odorless ones. Those were more expensive though and Lydia and Keir certainly weren't willing to fund you guys besides your nightly rate from your clients.

However, when you had made a trip to the apothecary in the underbelly of Hewn City, you had begrudgingly forked over the money for one of those clear, odorless poisons. There was no way anything else would get past Azriel and his shadows.

Your heart ached in your chest as you stared at the decanter of whiskey sitting on the bar cart in your pleasure room. Azriel had been kind to you. He had offered you some mercy by buying out your nights and not returning until that fateful meeting at the party. And while he clearly liked being more dominant while bedding you, his touch had been gentle, soft. No one had ever shown you such care and here you were, plotting out his murder.

But you simply had to do this. Freedom was only one dead body away for you. One more hit and you could finally wash your hands of this place, disappear to another court—perhaps one that would allow you to bathe in the sunlight for the rest of your days, something the citizens of Hewn City had never really experienced.

Kill Azriel.

Kill the shadowsinger and you'll be free to go.

Those had been Keir's exact words.

You had killed before. There was a time when your finger was covered in black lines, a new one added every time you didn't have enough money to pay the house fee or enough for food and had to borrow from Lydia. One every time you failed to perform for a client, no matter what they asked of you. But now you were down to one last mark.

One for the Shadowsinger.

One for Azriel.

You let out a sigh, sitting down at your vanity to brush your hair. Azriel was due to show up any moment now. Ever since that night at the party, he had been coming by at this time every single night. He would buy out all the nights Lydia would allow him to before showing up.

He never even made it seem like he expected sex on any given night. Sometimes the two of you would just cuddle in bed, whispering stories to each other about your lives. Sometimes he would come all tense and frustrated with whatever the High Lord had demanded of him. On those nights you would offer to give him a massage and listen to him complain about how much he hated his work. It seemed like the two of you had that in common, at the very least.

You hadn't made any attempts yet. You told yourself it was because you were planning out the best way to kill Azriel. Poison, knives, strangling. There were a multitude of ways to do it. But you knew deep down what the true reason was. You had grown fond of the Shadowsinger. You didn't want to kill him.

But your wants and needs had never really ever agreed with each other your whole life.

So here you were. Waiting for Azriel to come so you could poison him and be done with this Gods awful place. You wanted out of the labyrinth and unfortunately, this was the only way.

No matter how much you liked Azriel, he was the one standing in the way of your freedom.

[holy-puckslibrary]

━ 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥.

──────────── 𝐰𝐜 — 1.9k 𝐜𝐰 — everyone is aged up / non-canon compliant ages bc i said so; rafe being an emotionally constipated, toxic douche-canoe 3000; an unhealthy dynamic; suggestive moments but not explicit; w*rd + substance mention, wheeze bein' a savage; and a potential cliffhanger? 𝐚/𝐧 — this is a lil nugget from a mini-series i have in the works :) lmk if you’d like to see more in the future! 💌 ────────────

main masterlist | MDNI

IF EVER THERE were a time when a human being might actually be capable of blowing steam from their ears, it would be this one.

Rafe Cameron has been pacing the length of the chapel's private lot since he dragged you out here who knows how long ago. Mumbling crudely configured sentences and half-baked schemes under his breath, he looks every bit the loose canon he's been branded as.

While not ideal, things could be worse—a lot worse. At the very least, he hasn't punched anything yet; concrete wall, tree trunk, or otherwise.

The "otherwise" in this situation (and most, to be frank) is JJ Maybank's pretty face.

Apparently, Rafe doesn't appreciate the way he's been touching you all afternoon.

"If that fuckin' pogue knows what's good for him, he—he'll keep his filthy hands off what's mine."

Strong words for someone who refuses to even attempt exclusivity, or make any sort of commitment whatsoever.

You gnaw on your cheek until copper stings your tongue.

JJ has to touch you, it's unavoidable.

Sarah, his younger sister and your lifelong best friend, has asked you to be her Maid of Honor and, to absolutely no one's surprise, John B, her fiancé, asked JJ Maybank to serve as his Best Man.

Sarah's older brother doesn't see it that way.

And why would he? That would involve rational thinking and a modicum of maturity—two things Rafe is allergic to.

In his perfect world, you would walk in the procession having left a him-sized gap, and, even then, he'd probably decide that wasn't enough. Knowing him, there would need to be an ocean between you two before Rafe was finally satisfied. And still, you know for certain he'd find something else to bitch about.

It's almost like he enjoys getting himself all worked up.

"Rafe, I'm not a pet or a toy to play tug-of-war with on the playground."

At your sudden burst of exasperation, the pacing comes to a screeching halt. And thank god for that; the repetition was starting to make you nauseous.

Just as firmly as his jaw, Rafe's fists clench at his sides.

"When did I say that you were?" he spews his venom at you, but his fervid attention remains fixed on the cracked pavement baking in the late afternoon rays. Rafe kicks a pebble into the side of a parked car, then continues, "—because I don't recall saying that. And you know how I feel about words being put into my mouth."

"No," you all but growl. "—but that's what you meant."

Your teeth ache from grinding them together. A migraine is forming at either temple, but you're already too exhausted by this conversation to massage it away before it takes root. You have your hands full with one headache right now, there's no room for another on your plate. But, like the eldest Cameron's emotional maelstrom, landfall is inevitable.

Rafe glares at you, but doesn't say anything to the contrary.

This begrudged acquiescence is the closest you ever come to Rafe admitting that you were right about something.

Or apologizing.

"Well, whatever you are, you're still mine. Something he doesn't respect and you seem to have forgotten—and I think we're overdue for a little reminder, sweetness."

He reaches for you, and you halfheartedly bat his hands away.

"Rafe, can we just... can we please do this some other time? I have to get back to—"

"—to your side piece from The Cut?"

"—to Sarah. Your sister. Y'know, the one who's getting married this weekend?" You cross your arms over your chest. Rafe rolls his eyes, clearly irritated you decided to cock-block his ogling. "—in case that bit of information got lost in your ego."

"Wow, you're really antsy to get back in there." His eyebrows jump, somehow unfettered by his audacity. The supplemental away from me is omitted, but deafening. "There's no need to be so defensive—if you have nothing to feel guilty for, that is."

You don't dignify his badgering with a response.

His tongue punches his cheek, and he looks away, as if depriving you of eye contact is a punishment in and of itself.

Rafe is trying to bait you into an actual fight so that he can exercise his big, bottled-up emotions without having to acknowledge their existence or their cause. There's too much left to do before the ceremony; you don't have time to spare for something as juvenile and pointless as feeding into his emotional scapegoat.

"If you're spreading 'em for Maybank, at least give me a head's up so I can get tested. It's common courtesy, sweetness."

Cold and debilitating, like a scorpion's venom, his accusation is devoid of the familiarity you've grown fond of. Under Rafe's prickly carapace of indifference, he is spiteful and chronically insecure.

This is what happens when you don't purge yourself of whatever is bothering you. Pent up, the negativity builds and builds day in and day out. The knot gets bigger, stronger, and harder to ignore the longer it's left undealt with. The conflict between inner turmoil and externalized chaos, often projected onto an underserving substitute, is harsh and bitter, persisting until there's nothing left to leverage. Denial is a dreadful opponent and an impenetrable armor.

You are the frog today, and you are more often than not. Perhaps there was a time when turns were frequently taken, but you can't remember.

In shooting to sting, he'll kill himself just the same. Yet, despite the assured detriment to your livelihood, you put your faith in rational deterrence and permit the arachnid to crawl onto your back.

A sense of duty is easily preyed upon, and a desire for benevolence can leave you blind to the true nature of things. Instinct, natural or nurtured, doesn't have to be a death sentence. Nor is it a prescription for life. Villainy, like goodness, is a choice.

The frog may not be able to sting or fight, but it can leap.

"Would you just shut up?"

You bring his mouth to yours before any more garbage can spill out.

He's keyed up on jealousy and, most likely, something else. Rafe's intent on pushing you away with tired cheap shots in a fit of anger. You've known him long enough to know that, in the absence of control, he does and says the exact opposite of what he feels.

He refuses to be vulnerable in any healthy way, instead preferring to throw double-edged rocks at your window from behind a wilting bush.

Words are incompatible with Rafe's trauma-soaked mind. He'll hear whatever it is you have to say—Hell, he might even believe it for a few minutes—but a life of too many broken promises and poorly disguised lies depreciated their value.

Action—that's what Rafe can grasp. For something to click and stick, it must be tangible. You kissed him to express your loyalty in the only way he understands.

And to make him shut up. Definitely that, too.

"I should've ignored Sarah when she said a spray bottle was a bad idea."

Your eyes are slow to open, but you jump away from Rafe anyway. As if you've been caught with your hand in the cookie jar, or like you betrayed some great conspiracy. Like he burned you.

It may not have a label, but your charged relationship with the Cameron heir is an open secret on Kiladare. Still, you're not too keen on public displays of affection—if anything you subject each other to could even be considered gentle or loving.

Intimate, sure. An attachment, definitely. The jury's still out on the health of such a volatile symbiosis, but such an entanglement is a bitch to bury.

You've tried.

Rafe's jaw clenches, annoyed by the irksome interruption now more than any slight you've perpetrated. "Wheezie, can't you see we're in the middle of something?"

"Something I saw a little too much of," she retorts with an exaggerated gag.

You bite down on your cheeks to keep your laughter at bay. You're in no mood to poke the bear further than he's already stabbed himself.

"Run along, the adults are talking."

Again, Rafe reaches for you. This time, you step out of bounds.

She means well, but the youngest Cameron has a big mouth and a propensity for gossip. She's also a compulsive eavesdropper. Wheezie might butt in and stir the pot far less now than she did a few years ago, but when it comes to Rafe, all bets are off. They may be each other's preferred sibling, bonded by their inability to best Sarah in the rat race for their father's attention and approval, but in their household, it's everyone for themselves.

And she's had her eye on the special edition Animal Crossing Switch console for weeks; she'll throw you both under the bus without a thought. Especially, if it means not waiting 'till Christmas to have it in her tween-age hands.

You throw her a bone, and yourself a lifeline. "What's up, Wheeze?"

She gives her brother a final glare, then turns to face you fully. Her features are twisted with exasperation, an understandable feeling considering who her siblings are and the family she's had the misfortune of being born into.

"Sarah wants to practice the rings. Again. So, hurry up and finish sucking face, adults. We have more important things to do."

Wheezie stomps off before either you or Rafe can get a word in. For her, the conversation ran its course. No need to stick around.

"Can I ask something stupid?" Rafe asks once his sister is out of earshot.

His voice is a bit wobbly, and while you know he'll make you regret it later, but you just can't help yourself: "Don't you always?"

Rafe clears his throat, then rubs his jaw like it might grant him the right words.

"We only... y'know with each other, right? I-I mean, I just figured since you're stuck to me like fucking velcro you're in the same boat. I mean—talk about stage five clinger. And, don't get me wrong, I would've unstuck you, but this," Rafe gestures to what little space remains between you. "—is way more convenient than all the hoops and shit of getting with someone else."

You know what he's actually asking—you've been fluent in "Rafe" since the fourth grade. Just one of the many, many joys of your fathers' life-long bromance.

He wants you to spill your guts before he does. He wants certainty; a safety net of prior knowledge.

—Rafe wants power.

"Totally," you drawl, humoring him with half the effort you normally would. Rafe squirms under your knowing gaze. "All for convenience, babe."

"Are you mocking me?" 

"Don't I always?" you counter through a smirk that makes Rafe feel as though he's staring into a splintered funhouse mirror.

Rafe watches you slip back into the chapel, wishing that he said more... wishing he'd said less. He follows your figure down the hallway until the metal door shuts with a rancorous thud.

When he shuts his eyes—a lukewarm attempt to calm his racing heart in the relentless summer sun—all Rafe can think about is your parting wink.

And the God-awful churn of emotion it triggered.

──────────── 

💌 if you liked it, pls lmk! 💌

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[konigenblobbity]

Metallic Beauties

Hobie Brown x Spidey!F!Reader

18+ MINORS DNI

Warnings: Fluff, NSFW, nipple piercings, almost skinny dipping, Hobie being an absolute slut for your nipple piercings, tit biting and sucking, nickname

Summary: After a successful mission together, Hobie wants to show you a ‘new spot’ he found. Which turns out to be a rooftop hotel penthouse, with its own private pool. Hobie convinces you to take a relaxed moonlight swim, as both of you begin to strip you remember that you recently got a new accessory. Hobie not having yet seen your new nipple piercings… you can’t wait to see how he reacts.

A/n: Read a work by @murdrdocs about Hobie with a reader with nipple piercings and I was INSPIRED! Definitely check it out —> link. Also! Hobie has my whole heart… love this anti-establishment British heartthrob.

You couldn’t help but laugh as you watched Hobie do a series of dramatic poses between each swing on his web. You had just completed a day long mission with the punk, with expert skill and not a single slip up. Even made sure to keep the anomaly contained to an unexpectedly effective degree. You couldn’t help but share Hobie’s excitement.

Hobie was your closest friend on the team, having joined a few months ago, you were seen as a new recruit, not yet trusted… he didn’t see you like that. Due to Hobie’s lack of interest - more like borderline hatred - for labels, you two weren’t defined… merely thought of yourselves to be ‘close’.

Close being, telling each other anything and everything, having each others backs no matter what, you even getting involved in some of his demonstrations he went to, tending to each other - whether for injuries or… other needs. The two of you were inseparable, but undefined. Even though many of the other spider-people just wished you two would just accept you’re dating.

“Oi love, I wanna show you a lil somthin’, a new spot I’ve been hangin at” his words peaked your interest, and you just nod. At that he begins to swing off in another direction, ducking and weaving through a series of buildings. Trying your best to keep up, your curiosity only grows with each swing.

When he finally stops, he’s standing on the rooftop of a hotel. You land next to him and look around, seeing a large pool, a series of lounge chairs, and even a small seating area with a large fire pit. This ‘new spot’ was a hotel rooftop penthouse suite.

“Well… who did you bribe to be allowed here?” Your tone was playful as he begins to walk towards the pool, you following close behind. He chuckles lowly, and looks over at you, hands on his hips. “What can I say… I’ve got connections.” he peels off his mask and tosses it onto the lounge chair behind him.

“It’s not booked” he adds hoping to calm your slight unease. He didn’t need to use his spidey-senses to know that. Hobie had always been an amazing observer, picking up on the way you slightly shift your weight, how your pick at the fabric of your suit, how your eyes glance away every few seconds. It was easy to notice those things… because he often couldn’t help but observe you.

You take off your mask as well, throwing it on the lounge chair behind you, positioned right next to his. As you watch him strip out of his boots, then his vest and shirt your eyes widen. He notices your shocked expression and chuckles with an amused grin. “What? We just did a mission which’l keep Miguel off our asses for months. I’m just celebratin’, love”

You roll your eyes at his words but can’t help but agree. This mission was a pain and the pool looked really enticing. He continued to strip, peeling his shirt off, and unzipping the top half of his suit. You keep your gaze on him, intending to give him an incredulous look but unable to hide the slight awe in your eyes. You couldn’t help it, although you’d never admit it, Hobie looked good in anything… or even in nothing.

He smirks and jokingly remarks “Close your mouth… it ain’t like you haven’ seen me naked before” and he’s right, you’ve gone skinny dipping before, in fact you’ve both gotten naked on multiple occasion. Strip poker, just happenstance when you’re both high as kites, and times when you both agree the heat in your reality is unbearable.

You scoff “Well Hobie… when you’re right you’re right” before removing your shoes, and any clothes you wore over your suit. Then reaching to your back and unzipping your spider suit. As you pull it down you pause, remembering that you don’t wear a bra underneath the suit, feeling your bare back where the strap would be.

Hobie was just in his boxers now, and after putting his things on his lounge chair, he immediately dives into the water, quite elegantly if you say so yourself. You watched his figure under the water until his head broke through the surface. A hand coming up and rubbing his face.

He still had his jewelry on and the now wet metal glistened under the pool lights. They were a soft blue and lined the pool wall, with some additional lights outside of it. You could only stare as his figure was illuminated in a soft blue, reflecting of his face piercings beautifully. You were only able to break away your gaze when he spoke.

“The waters peak love, hop in before I come up there and throw you in” the lopsided grin on his face made it clear he wasn’t joking. You chuckle but then gulp, feeling suddenly vulnerable. Although he’s seen you naked before, you hadn’t yet told him that recently you got a new little piercing. Well… two new piercings.

They were fully healed now but you only got them a week or so ago. Not having yet found the correct way to tell or show him. You knew he wouldn’t judge, but you weren’t sure whether he’d like them. As much as you tried to convince him otherwise, with snide remarks and playful insults, you were nervous what he thought and truly cared about his opinion.

You turn away from him, showing him your back as you finish unzipping the suit and slip it off. When you turn he groans, his voice low “you bloody tease…” and you just chuckle before retorting back. “You bloody perv…”. You finished getting undressed, standing there only in your panties and jewelry, most of which you stole from him,

You placed your things on the lounge chair next to his, which already had your mask on it. As you were folding your suit and clothes, not wanting them to get wrinkled, there was a soft splash sound behind you. You place your mask on top of the pile of clothes and then turn back to the pool.

“If any of my things get soaked I sw-“ Once you turn back around towards the pool, he was gone. Your smile drops and your brows furrow. You walk to the edge of the pool looking down into it, thinking he was under the water. Your spoke cautiously, searching for him “Hobie? Where’d you go?” No response.

You go to turn around and gasp, suddenly face to face with Hobie. “Took too long. In ya go.” Before you can even react, Hobie pushes you into the pool. You let out a soft yelp and before landing in the pool you can see the smirk on his face.

There’s a loud splash as you fall into the pool, slowly sinking to the bottom, you open your eyes under the water and, in blurry vision, see Hobie dive into the water after you. Once again his dive is graceful, managing to perfectly align his body with yours, parallel to one another.

You watch through blurry vision as he glides up the length of your body, feeling his hands slide up your thighs, hips, and stop at your waist. His gaze focused on your face, until, from his peripheral vision, he catches a glint of light.

Even in his blurry vision he can see it’s coming from your chest. He tilts his head downwards, his eyes moving away from your face. They widened as he spots the two small silver beads in each of your nipples. You don’t have to see clearly to know he’s looking at your tits, your face beginning to feel flush at how entranced he appears to be.

You use his haze to swim away from him, his hands sliding off your waist. You take in a breathe as you resurface out of the water, shaking your head to shake off some of the water on your face. You open your eyes and look forward, watching as Hobie’s head pokes up after yours.

You were both standing in the shallower end of the pool, feet touching the ground, only a mere meter from one another. You felt your heartbeat quicken as he stands tall in front of you, feeling intimidated by his figure looming over you. His eyes were focused back on your piercings, now being able to see them clearly.

“Well well well… when’d you get those done?” You shrug, deciding to play coy. You tilt your head and furrow your brows. “I’m not sure what you’re getting at… what are you referring to?” Unable to hide the sly smirk growing on your face.

You watch as he pokes his cheek with his tongue, his eyes looking back up into yours. His gaze pinning you in place, unable to move from where you stand. He grins and let’s out an amused chuckle. “Tsk. Always so coy” His voice was low, but his accent was thick… he knew how you got whenever he spoke like that.

You watch as he moves towards you, a smirk still plastered on his face and his eyes narrowed. “I’m referring to…” you shudder slightly as his hands slide up your waist again, but then go to grope your breasts, his thumbs softly rubbing on each piercing. “These metallic beauties” his touch has you humming softly and looking into his eyes, his gaze lustful… you can only imagine you look the same.

He leans forward, his face now settling into the crook of your neck as he mumbles against your skin. His breath sending a shiver down your spine. “Hm. Isn’t that interestin’. They feel even better than they look…” His hands move back to your waist and, as if you weight nothing, he lifts you partially out of the water.

Recognizing his action, you know what he wants, you can only give in… wrapping your legs around his waist, allowing his hands to move to your thighs to hold you up. His face now directly in front of your breasts. “I wonder how they taste…” those words made your breath catch in your throat, back arching as his lips latch onto one of your piercings.

Your eyes fluttered shut as his tongue began toying with your piercing. His hands grasp tightly at the flesh of each of your thighs, “God… they taste even better” his soft groan sending vibrations through your entire body. His mouth was doing wonders, being so gentle with your bud, but effortlessly driving you mad with each flick of his sharp tongue.

The way he paused before beginning to lay searing hot licks over the entirety of your nipple with the pad of his tongue. It had you taking in shaky breaths. As his lips wrapped around your bud again. you could feel his coy smirk, clearly loving the reactions he was getting out of you. He took the piercing in between his teeth and that one action had you dizzy.

Loving the mix of pain and pleasure he was giving you. He began to move away, sucking at the piercing, his lips pulling away with a soft pop. You let out a shaky moan, barely audible but he heard it. And he wanted to hear more… loving the way he felt your body lightly tremble in his arms. The mere thought that he had this much power over you… it had him hazy and his only focus right now was you.

“You’ve been naughty haven’t you? Hiding these from me…” he moves his lips to your other breast, not wanting to leave it left out. He leans in, sticking out his tongue and softly circling the piercing, dragging a whine out of you. “Should’ve asked me to pierce them for you. Would’ve made them look perfect” he then closes his lips around the second piercing. Teasing it the same as he did the last.

You look down at him, his eyes immediately locking with yours. Your own glossed over with pleasure, his half-lidded, focusing his energy on perfectly teasing your bud. “A-are they not perfect?” You question. Not intending to be playful, but rather serious; genuinely asking him. Wanting to know what he thought, and getting tense at the idea that he didn’t think they were perfect.

“Aw… of course they are love. In fact, they look absolutely fucking ravishing on you” he begins to softly kiss your piercing, before going to kiss around it as well. Leaving open mouth kisses, and soft purple bruises in the process. “I just can’t help but be envious… knowing someone else got the pleasure of piercing them” he then bites at the skin of your breast.

You gasp lightly, your eyes fluttering closed again. Biting your lip as he takes the piercing back in his mouth, speaking against your flesh. “Watching you strip, then being able to praise you for stayin’ nice and still, watchin’ your face contort from pain… fuck darling what I would give to’ve been there” each of his words went straight to your head, making you more dizzy by the second.

“W-well… actually. I did them myself” you smirk and look down at him again. He pulls away from your chest, his mouth falling agape, his gaze locking on yours. A grin slowly gracing his lips. “Well fuck…” he moves a hand up to the back of your head, pulling your head down, crashing his lips against yours.

“My brave little bird aren’t you?” He mumbles against your lips, there’s something about the way he says it that has you whimpering against his lips. The way he calls you ‘his’… even if he didn’t like labels of what your relationship was, your heart sings at such praise from him. You softly nod your head, moaning against his plush lips and then feeling him smirk against yours.

His hand grasped your hair, pulling your lips from his for a moment, looking deep into your eyes, his own filled with desire. But you saw… something new. An aura of possessiveness, of unfiltered want… but what caught your eye the most was the smallest glint of pure affection and admiration.

“That’s you isn’t it hm? My bird… my best bird. All mine.”

[daydreamtofiction]

The Feature XIX // Benedict Cumberbatch x Reader

Series Overview | Previous Part | Next Part

Chapter Summary: (Female Reader) Apparently I don't know how to write summaries for this story anymore lmao. Anyway, Quinn and Ben are back, woo.

Chapter Word Count: 3.3K

Chapter Warnings: Morally-grey reader, strong language, adult and sexual themes. Readers must be 18+

A/N: Welcome back my dudes 😛 Here's a lil chappy chap to get us all back into the swing of things. I know it's been a lifetime since this story went on hiatus, so please feel free to go to the series overview for the entire contents page if you need a little refresher. Thank you to everyone still here and supporting me & this story. 🤍

Join the Tag List Here*

The media always made dating a celebrity seem so appealing; the red carpets and designer gowns, romantic getaways in private jets and secret rendezvous' shrouded in luxury and mystique. But you were failing to see the glamour in hauling your overnight bag on a train to Kent in the middle of a rainstorm. Sitting in a cramped carriage that smelled of stale coffee and wet dog, surrounded by screaming toddlers and men with the inability to keep their legs together. 

You stared out of the window as the countryside passed in a blur of greens and greys, wondering when exactly the sparkle of being involved with an A-list actor would reveal itself. Would you find it in the dodgy train station sandwiches or the spotty phone signal? In the pockets of your rain-sodden parka or the man asking for spare change as he roamed the aisle? 

 You hadn't seen Ben in weeks since he'd began filming a new movie. And though he'd only been an hour outside of London the whole time, the long hours and his demanding schedule meant that he might as well have been on the other side of the world. You'd talked when you could; brief texts and quick calls that barely skimmed the surface of what you both really wanted to say. So when he invited you to visit him on location, you'd taken little persuading. Though boarding a busy train to Kent wasn't exactly akin to jetting off to some secluded beach resort. 

The train rolled to a stop at the station. You waited as the carriage emptied, passengers practically climbing over one another to get off, a new person blocking your way every time you attempted to slip out from your seat. When you finally saw an opening, you muscled your way into the aisle and reached for your bag in the overhead luggage rack. But it was caught on something, refusing to budge, even as you hung from the handle with your entire body weight like a child dangling from a monkey bar. You looked up at the extremely tall man waiting to get off behind you, glaring at him as he watched on impatiently without ever offering you a hand.

You finally got it free, hoisting it over your shoulder and stepping off the train onto a bleak platform; cracked pavement, a single lamppost flickering against the dusky sky, and an inexplicably large puddle that stretched across the entire exit. You tried to hop over it, but it was too wide, rainwater flooding your trainers and soaking the ankles of your jeans. 

"Fabulous," you muttered sarcastically to yourself. 

The rain hadn't yielded. If anything, it seemed to grow heavier as you stood beneath the shelter of the station, looking down at your phone and trying to make sense of the directions Ben sent you earlier.

Take a left out of the station, follow the main road and look for signs to The Mocketts. It's not too far.

Easy enough, you thought. Or at least it would have been if your feet weren't squelching in your shoes, if the main road didn't turn into a complex maze of winding lanes and hedgerows that all looked the same in the bad weather and diminishing daylight. You pulled up your hood, though it was an entirely futile act; the rain already bleeding through your coat, your hair clinging to your face as you squinted up at the faded road signs, none of which seemed to match the directions Ben had given you. 

As you trudged down the narrow, muddy road, you wondered why you'd agreed to this at all; why you hadn't just told him to make the drive back to London to visit you, why going to him seemed like such a good idea when all it had gotten you was a runny nose, ruined shoes and a spot on the missing persons' register when you inevitably disappeared down a ditch somewhere. 

Your phone buzzed in your pocket. You took it out, wiping the rain away from the screen to read the message. 

Are you close?  It read. 

Depends, you replied with wet, numb fingers. If by 'close' you mean standing in the middle of nowhere with no clue where I am then yes, I'm very close.

The phone began to ring a few seconds later. 

"Why didn't you call a cab?" he asked. 

"Because you said it wasn't far so I assumed I could walk," you replied, sniffing and wiping away the rain dripping off the end of your nose. "Now I'm so lost I wouldn't even know where to ask a cab to pick me up." 

"Right, just... stay where you are. I'll come and find you." 

You looked around, trying to find some kind of landmark. But all you saw were puddles, hedges and a single cow in a distant field. "I refuse to die in fucking Kent, Ben."

He chuckled down the phone, the sound providing you a slight comfort. "Did you make any turns off the main road?" 

"I don't think so." 

"Okay, don't move, I'll be as quick as I can." 

You stood on the side of the road for what felt like an eternity, teeth chattering, body tensing against the cold. Whenever a car would zoom past, you would hold your breath for a moment, letting it out again in a deflated sigh when it carried on past you. 

Eventually, a set of bright headlights appeared around the bend, a big 4x4 splashing through puddles with its huge tyres as it rolled to a stop beside you. The passenger window lowered, revealing Ben's concerned face peering out at you. 

"Get in!" he shouted, his voice barely audible over the white noise of the storm. 

You yanked open the door and climbed in, soiling the pristine interior in mud and rain as you heaved your bag over your shoulder into the back seat. Ben leaned over to kiss you, but you were too busy peeling off your coat to respond, the warm air blowing from the grates in the dashboard onto your freezing skin. 

He watched you battle with the wet fabric, a blend of amusement and pity on his face. "Rough journey?" he asked, unable to hold back a smirk.

You glared at him as you finally freed yourself from the coat and threw it into the back with your bag, waiting for him to make a joke about your appearance, your lack of navigation skills. But instead he simply reached out, gently stroking the hair out of your face. 

"I'm sorry," he said. "I should've just come and picked you up from the station." 

You sighed, sinking back into the heated leather seat. "It's fine. I shouldn't have thought I could walk it." 

He smiled, tilting his head slightly to look at you. 

"What?" you asked. 

"Nothing. Just... Hi."

"Hi," you replied softly, finally allowing a smile of your own. 

He leaned in again, and this time you accepted his kiss; the warmth of his lips a stark contrast to the dreary, miserable day you'd endured. 

He was staying in a cottage on a stretch of vast, green farmland, and you couldn't help but frown as the Jeep rolled over the uneven ground towards it; more mud, wonderful. You looked around as he drove, searching for the set; the studio, trailers, cameras, crew. But there was nothing besides fields and trees, barns and cottages. 

"I'm not staying on the set," he said with a laugh, as though he'd read your mind. 

"Just thought it'd all be a bit less... rural," you replied with a shrug. 

"I like the privacy. Plus, we're only filming about ten minutes that way. You can come with me tomorrow if you'd like, I'll give you a little tour." 

He parked up and you climbed out, grimacing at the smell of manure and damp earth, wondering why he couldn't have taken a job somewhere like Fiji or The Seychelles instead. He grabbed your bag and coat from the back seat, ushering you out of the rain towards to the cottage. When he let you inside, you breathed a sigh of relief, the dry, warm house like a safe haven.

He put your things down near the door and switched on a light, turning to look down at you with his hands on his hips. You'd somehow failed to properly take in his appearance until now, as though the chaos and discomfort of your journey had clouded your perception. 

"Nice pornstache," you teased, reaching up and running a finger over the hair adorning his top lip.

He rolled his eyes. "Thanks. No, that's great, cheers." 

You giggled as he walked away from you. "What? I like you with facial hair." 

He gave a cynical hum, making his way towards the stairs. 

"Where are you going?" you asked. 

"To run you a bath." 

"Oh, you don't have to do that." 

He turned to look at you, his eyes slowly trailing you from head to toe.

You looked down at yourself, at the clothes sticking to your body like a second skin and trainers caked in mud, the puddle that had formed on the wooden floor beneath you. "Okay, fair enough." 

He breathed a soft laugh. "Come on." 

"Will you get in it with me?" you asked as he climbed a few steps.

He turned, looking down at you with a smirk. "Nice try." 

You huffed, bending down to take off your shoes and socks and leaving them by the door before following him upstairs. 

The cottage was bigger than it seemed from the outside, yet still cozy, with thick carpets and charming olde worlde features. You walked towards the sound of running water, a steamy warmth and clean, soapy aroma. You pushed the bathroom door open to find him leaning over a deep, clawfoot tub, pouring bubblebath into the stream as it flowed from the tap. And for the first time all day, you felt your muscles relax. 

He glanced up at you as you began to undress, letting your jeans fall to the floor and peeling your top over your head. His eyes lingered on your body, his gaze darkening as you unclipped your bra to reveal your breasts, hooked your thumbs into the elastic of your underwear and slid it down over your hips. It was satisfying to know that his desire still existed; that while he was staying strong in his refusal to go further than a kiss, the hunger remained. 

You stood naked in the doorway, watching as he rose to his full height and cleared his throat.

"I'll leave a towel out for you," he said. 

"You sure you don't want to join me?" you replied. 

He inhaled a deep breath, letting it out slowly with a slight smile. "I'm sure." 

"Because I've really missed you." You crossed the small bathroom, taking his wrists in your hands and sliding them around your waist. 

"I've missed you too." 

You reached up, weaving your fingers into the back of his hair and pressing your lips to his neck. "Don't you want to show me how much you've missed me?" 

"Quinn..." he warned, a soft growl in his voice. 

"What harm would it do?" You raised up onto your toes, moving your kisses to his jaw, his mouth. "To just do it... Once?" 

He was losing his resolve, you could feel it in the firmness of his grasp, how his fingers pressed into your skin as he began to return your kisses between heavy breaths. 

"It doesn't have to be purely... physical," you pressed, keeping your voice soft and enticing. "It can be slow, tender, intimate-"

"Quinn," he finally whispered against your lips. "Stop it." 

You huffed, letting go of him and dropping down off your tiptoes. "Fine."

You turned and walked back out onto the landing without bothering to redress, making your way towards the stairs.  

"Where are you going?" he called out to you.

"To get my vibrator out of my bag," you called back, hearing his quiet chuckle echo from the bathroom. 

You had never felt better; washed hair and warm, dry clothes, the musky scent of earth replaced by the clean, masculine scent of Ben's body wash. Your limbs buzzed from the wine you'd been sipping as you stood at the stove in the kitchen, stirring a pot of pasta and listening to music from a small speaker on the counter. 

The night sky was black as ink, the quiet countryside making the world outside seem nonexistent, as though the small cottage was the only place left on earth. And you were sure you wouldn't have minded if it was. Ben came up behind you, snaking his hand around your stomach to hold you close as he pressed a kiss to the back of your neck. You smiled, feeling your skin tingle beneath his lips, a slight tickle from his moustache. 

He picked up the bottle of wine from the counter beside you and topped up your glass. 

You glanced at him from the corner of your eye. "Are you trying to get me drunk?"

"A little bit." 

You exhaled a soft laugh, picking it up and taking a sip. 

"I'm really glad you could come down," he said, filling his own glass and sitting at the dining table behind you. "It's been weird not talking to you every day."

"I know, I'm great." 

He chuckled. "You are." 

You turned around, leaning back against the counter, glass in hand. "Did you ever think after our first meeting you'd be saying that about me?" 

"After our first meeting? I knew I’d be saying something about you, though I assumed it would be to a lawyer."

Your lip curled with a smirk as you sipped your wine. "Now look at us, making dinner together in a little cottage in the countryside. Not a lawyer in sight." 

"Exactly. See, the no sex thing is working." 

"Oh, you think that's why we're getting along so well?" You raised an eyebrow, your smirk spreading.

He leaned back in his chair, a playful glint in his eyes. "Well, it certainly hasn’t hurt. We’ve actually gotten to know each other. I mean, look at you - no knives in hand, no threats of bodily harm..." 

"Mm. I wouldn't completely credit the abstinence. Maybe I'm just too tired from all this non-sexual bonding to argue with you." 

"Or maybe you just enjoy my company." 

You paused, biting your lip as you looked down at him, before turning to save the pot from bubbling over on the stove. 

"Why's it so hard for you to just admit I was right about taking it slow?" he asked.

"I got a train to Kent for you. I think it's already quite clear." 

He laughed, and you listened as the legs of his chair scraped the floor, his footsteps approaching as you drained the pasta over the sink. 

"You've really never done this before, have you," he said. "Dating, courting." 

"Courting?" you scoffed. "Okay, granddad." 

He slid his arms around your waist, pressing his chest against your back as he spoke slow, quiet, his voice deep and intimate. "Just imagine, Quinn. All the waiting; the frustration, anticipation. Imagine how... incredible it's going to be when we finally do it." 

You felt a shiver run down your spine, desire bubbling deep in your stomach. He pressed his lips to the side of your head, the heat of his body making you melt against him. 

"I know I seem cruel," he continued. "Turning you down, making you feel like I don't want you. But trust me, I do. And I've been thinking about it a lot, how good it's going to feel." 

You inhaled through your nose in an attempt to compose yourself, to quell the growing ache between your legs. You continued what you were doing, tipping the steaming pasta into an empty pot. 

"I want to take my time with you," he murmured. "Reacquaint myself with every inch of your body." 

You felt his arms tighten around you, his hands gripping you more firmly. 

"When I finally touch you, really touch you, it's going to be slow, intense; I want to make sure you feel every brush of my fingertips, every kiss, every..." He trailed off, but you knew the picture he was painting. His voice like a dark, seductive promise, pouring his intentions directly into your ear. "I want to watch your face as I make you fall apart beneath me. Hear the sounds you make as I push you to the edge and pull you back, just so I can do it all over again."

Your legs felt weak, and you were grateful for his arms around you, holding you steady. It was impossible not to get lost in his words, in the way your stomach coiled, your core throbbing with need.

 "And when we finally come together," he continued, his lips brushing against your earlobe. "I'm certain I will never be able to keep my hands off you again." 

You let out a shaky breath, your voice barely a whisper. "You’re really not making it easy to be patient, you know."

He exhaled a laugh. "I just thought you might like to know I'm not finding this easy either. But there's reason behind it." 

"I know," you replied with a sigh, turning in his arms to face him. "I know I've been giving you a hard time about it but it's only because you're right - I don't date, I don't... court." 

"You don't court?" he teased.

"No, old man, I don't court." You laughed. "I've never wanted to. So I always just... skip to the physical stuff, ignore the rest." 

He stroked a stray lock of hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear. "But you're not ignoring it with me. Look, you're here, you're trying."

"Mm. I suppose I just never liked someone enough to make dinner and drink wine with them before. Never cared enough to nearly die in the Kent countryside for them." 

He gave a deep laugh in his throat. "You didn't nearly die." 

"We'll agree to disagree." 

He smiled, tilting your chin up with his fingers and kissing you softly. "I guess I should consider myself lucky then," he said. "That you're here, even though it’s not your usual thing.”

“I don’t know if it’s luck, Ben. Maybe it’s just... you.”

His eyes crinkled, the corners of his mouth curving into a gentle smile. “I’ll take that.”

You both stood there for a moment, wrapped in each other’s embrace, the flames licking in your core now dwindling to a comfortable smoulder. 

“You know,” he said after a moment. “We could make this our thing.”

"Make what our thing?" You raised an eyebrow. 

"This." He gestured to the space around you. "Every time I’m on location, you can brave the wilderness-"

“And risk my life,” you interjected.

"And risk your life,” he agreed with a grin. “Just to come cook dinner and drink wine with me. It’ll be like a... tradition." 

You tilted your head, pretending to think about it, before giving him a slow, teasing smile. “Throw in a few tropical countries and I might consider it." 

“I'll see what I can do." 

He kissed you again, deeper this time, pressing you gently against the edge of the sink before pulling back, resting his forehead on yours for a brief moment. You stood there as you watched him finish off the dinner, taking in the comfortable sight of him moving around the kitchen in domestic ease. He hummed to himself contently as he chopped and stirred, stopping every now and then to take a sip from his glass, twirling utensils between his fingers. 

It was strange, how this easy, unremarkable moment was something you’d never quite known before. How you'd never taken heed of the quiet, subtler parts of another person. Yet here, in the warmth of the kitchen, surrounded by the clatter of pots and the aroma of garlic and basil, you felt a kind of intimacy you hadn’t expected to find.

It wasn’t the grand gestures or passionate moments you'd come to crave, but rather the simple act of sharing space, of being present together. The quiet companionship that came with just being in his company. It was a different kind of closeness; genuine, chaste, something you hadn’t even realised you’d been missing.

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[things-about-cars-in-posts]

Which cars are most bisexual?

Ever get the chilling feeling that you made a grave mistake long ago and you are about to reap what you sowed?

In short, I hit some of my friends up to ask for help. In random alphabetical order:

@jettacar suggested the fourth gen Nissan Quest:

"It's like, no one really bought these. They aren't particularly common. But also, there's no one type of person that buys a car like this. Rationality would have you believe only families are buying this, because it's a giant minivan - but i can't immediately think of another car with a wider variety of types of people that own them right now (excluding cars that just sell incredibly well)"

Unfortunately, that made the conversation derail into minivan talk.

Up next, @rabidragon suggested the Fiat Multipla, due to its peculiar seating arrangement of two rows of three seats:

"3 seats in the front for you and your man and your woman".

Indeed, the peculiar thing about the Multipla is its row of three full-sized seats in front (many old cars had a front bench with some having three lap belts, but the Three Individual Front Seats club is as exclusive as it is devoid of prestige) and the many peculiarities that it caused, like off-center pretty much everything (mirror included) because the driver is further to the side than usual and where most of the centered things go there's now a passenger who would like to be.

But the even more peculiar thing about the Multipla is how spectacularly ugly it is. It's one of the few cars I've ever actually seen that manages to be full-on ugly not just outside but inside. Click on any list of ugliest cars in the world and if it doesn't contain the Multipla I can promise you that list was created by a machine that has since been physically shot. And if you're thinking "Well, it's not bad enough to warrant that hyperbole" - you are looking at the second generation. This is the pretty one. I put the first one and its interior at the end of the post under a read more because I genuinely did not want to be responsible for you seeing it.

I noted that Honda's FR-V managed the same seating layout with downright smart looks inside and out...

...and unfortunately that made the conversation derail into engine swap regulation loopholes.

Finally, @chevyventure suggested multiple. In (roughly) his words:

First generation Mazda 3 "It's a hatchback, good for many different uses - and Mazda is a little silly, charming and off the beaten path (if you were getting a Japanese hatchback you'd probably get a Toyota or a Honda) with a cute lil' smile like a Miata"

1988 Volvo 240 Wagon "Volvos are frequent hand me downs from family like all the cool childhood trauma the LGBTQs get"

[Editor's Note: bro.]

Renault Clio "It's peak hotness while also being cute in its own way, not necessarily preferring a masculine or feminine audience. I've never seen an ad for a Clio before, but if my assumptions about the car market are correct my guess is the normal one is kinda marketed towards women"

[Editor's note: So, I wanted to check that, so I just looked up "Renault Clio ad". These were the first two ads I found.

So yeah. I feel it qualifies.]

Unfortunately, talking about the Clio made the conversation derail into TWR's involvement in- oh wait, you're not gonna know about that Clio variant, are you.

So, many racing series can only be entered with racecars based on some production car - which is great for manufacturers, because they get to advertise their brand and one of their models simultaneously! But since there are rules on how much of the base car can be changed and how much of it must be retained, the stricter they are the more what you want as a base for your racecar is something high performance. So when you want to go racing with a dinky little thing like, say, first car to ever use plastic bumpers and only car to ever be called Renault Le Car in America Renault 5...

...what you are going to want to do is what, among many others, Toyota did with the Yaris GR and Lancia did with the Delta: the homologation special. Basically, you make a special version of the car with the characteristics you'd want in racing, sell enough to clear the rules's bar for "production car" (or at least, convince the officials you've done that), and go racing with that. So Renault did that to the 5 and hit up one Marcello Gandini to redesign it around the changes. You know, Marcello Gandini, guy most famous for designing mid-engined Ferrari-slayers:

Which makes sense, because the Renault 5 Turbo was a mid-engined Ferrari slayer. It was faster than the top-of-the-line Ferrari both in acceleration and in cornering speed. This thing.

(sidenote: The Interior. end of sidenote)

Well, twenty years on, some legend at Renault thought "You know what? We were onto something with that. Let's do that again but HARDER." Presumably, into the headquarters of Tom Walkinshaw Racing, a racing team that developed for Aston Martin, F1 teams, and made Jaguar's Fastest Production Car Ever record holder, and of course a fuckton of the most exciting racecars around, showed up uninvited that Renault madman saying "Y'all wanna work on something REAL prestigious?" before chucking them the keys to a second generation Clio and walking off with a "Don't thank me".

The result was the Clio V6, most notable for HAVING A FUCKING V6 WHERE THE BACKSEATS WERE. This car is genuinely incredible. Like, you see it and you go "Ooh ahh, the Clio V6!" and you look inside to see, you know, the huge V6 compartment thing and you see the interior and you realize this thing cost good sportscar money and when you got in it was a fucking Clio.

Mental stuff- wait shit this post was about bisexual cars wasn't it? How did the conversation derail like this? I swear this never happens. Well, I guess it's time for my pick.

Personally, chatting with Mr. Venture about hatchbacks, I realized that I cannot think of a more "girls car" than a Fiat 500 Cabriolet (which actually is called 500C) and cannot think of a more "boys car" than a Fiat 500 Abarth (which actually is called Abarth 500)...

...so how about the Fiat 500 Cabriolet Abarth?

It actually isn't called that but I think you could piece that together. As though a spoiler on a canvas roof wasn't weird enough, it contains the third brake light, probably making this the only car out there in which it can change position during use. Although I assure you, you're not gonna be thinking about that when driving it. Thing's a RIOT.

But honestly, that wasn't what I started off wanting to answer. So, last but most definitely not least, I candidate my first, gut-reaction answer: the NA Mazda Miata.

See, to me bisexuality (and pansexuality, but awareness of the nuances between them is so low they may as well be picked over flag preference) is someone appreciating all the beauty in the world, seeing no point in gatekeeping themselves out of half of it. And is that not what a spider is about? Is it not about saying "this world we're in is so full of beauty, who would rather blind themselves to half of it?". And look at the damn thing. It's bursting with exactly the kind of joie de vivre one would associate with such sentiment. It oozes enthusiastic curiosity. OwO what's this?: The Car.

Also, just look at this picture.

It can drift. IT CAN WINK. IT CAN WINK MID-DRIFT. I mean, what more than this degree of flirtatious playfulness can you possibly need to be convinced?

Links in blue are posts of mine explaining the words in question - if you liked this post, you might like those!

...

...are they gone? I think they're gone.

The Multipla pictures are down here. Go on then if you're gonna, you sick fuck.

If you have dealt with traumatic tumor-related experiences and seeing that dashboard caused you genuine discomfort, well, do not say I didn't warn you.

[baronessvonglitter]

if love be rough with you, be rough with love | chapter 13 | "the best worst day of your life"

Dave York x f!Reader

Word count: 4,211

Summary: a little more backstory on the reader's complicated history with her father, and some slice of life moments you and Dave have to be quiet about. Oh, and there's a sex tape involved.

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Mature and Explicit, use of weapons (gun range), fingering, restroom sex, unprotected piv, rough sex, slut shaming, oral (m & f receiving), facial, come eating, fluff(!), Dave is bad with feelings (ofc), TW for unaliving of a family member and themes of grief, Dave gets a lil bit stern with the wifey, reader wears lingerie and has hair long enough to pull, light bondage (reader has slight marks but otherwise unharmed), filming a sex act, there's a lot so if I've missed anything please let me know!

Author's Note: honestly I wrote this while in captivity (staying with family in the aftermath of the hurricane) and so it's quite meaty 😏 Guns freak me out, so knowing very little on the subject I did the most basic research on the handling of them so mistakes are likely. ALSO there is a brief mention of Robert McCall, though not by name, so it can be assumed that this takes place in a separate universe where the events of the film happen differently or not at all.

Series Masterlist

"Dominant hand on the grip, index finger on the trigger. But not yet," Dave adds, gently placing your index finger to the side as he helps you position the gun within your hands. "Support hand underneath," he says, placing your non-dominant hand where it should go. "This is how you keep control of the gun," he explains. "Keep your arms out straight, no bending. It makes it easier to hit your target."

It's exciting, you have to admit, holding a weapon in your hand. And with Dave behind you, his breath ghosting your ear as he gives you directions, it's sexy.

"When am I ever going to need to use this?" you ask, looking up at him through your protective goggles, batting your lashes at him.

"Sweetpea, you never know who the bad guys are," he murmurs, his hands stroking your sides. "Now get into position, feet shoulder-width apart."

You do as he says, keeping your arms straight, hands in position around your gun, finger inching towards the trigger.

"A couple deep breaths, in and out," he whispers into your ear. Damn, he loves the way you look like this, and as much as he wants to grab your ass, or plunge his hand deep into the front of your jeans to cup your drooling pussy, he knows it's safer not to do them while you have a gun in your hand.

"Hold your breath while you aim and shoot, and exhale after you take the shot. When you're ready, pull the trigger slowly." He dares a quick kiss to your cheek before setting your headphones back in place and his as well. He stands behind you at a small distance to let you do this on your own.

Deep breath in, out. Arms straight. Another breath in.. you aim, and your finger gently squeezes the trigger, and a shocking thrill goes through you as the gun fires. You exhale, inhale, and fire again at the white target outlined in black. You repeat until you've emptied the magazine and the paper target zips towards you on a string. There are bullet holes in the right shoulder, two in the chest, two completely off the mark, and one right through the head.

"Whoa, nice headshot," Dave says admiringly as you both remove your headphones.

You blush and beam with pride. "Really?"

"I thought you hadn't done this before," he casts a teasing glance at you, lips curled up in a smirk.

"I haven't!" you giggle. "God, it felt so good! I felt so powerful, so.."

Dave finds your enthusiasm endearing, and his cock twitches at how hot you looked shooting the target, the tautness of your limbs and the look of determination on your features. What he wants more than anything is to make you his, right here and now. He cups your face and kisses you, for the first time not caring if anyone around sees. Then he curls a finger through the belt loop of your jeans and leads you around the corner. "Not the most romantic place, but I can't wait," he says as he brings you inside and locks the door.

"I'm okay with the lack of romance," you giggle before he captures your lips in a savage kiss. "I bet you never brought your wife to a public restroom for a dirty quickie," you end on a gasp as his hand goes into the front of your pants, roughly shoving his fingers inside you, grinning when he finds you already drenched, fitting snugly around him, as he walks you to the sink, facing you forward as he towers behind you, pulling your jeans and panties down together, then his.

"No, she hasn't," he whispers in your ear. "She's not a cock-hungry little slut like you. Now bend that pretty ass over, sweetpea." He gives your ass a good smack as you do so, kneading your cheeks with his hands. There's no buildup, no foreplay, no taking his sweet time. He wants what he wants and right now that's you, your tight hole swallowing his cock, devouring it as he slams into you, hands on your shoulders as you flounder for purchase, ultimately resting your hands on the sides of the sink.

The unmistakable sounds of your flesh slapping with each thrust fills the air, resounds in the tiny, tiled room. Your strangled cries rise to his ears. You're trying to be quiet but he knows you can't last long without screaming his name, screaming obscenities. "Christ, are you coming already, sweetpea?" he teases, feeling the tense pulsing of your pussy around him, signaling your impending climax. "You're too easy. All I have to do is stick it in and you go crazy, huh?"

"Dave," you moan, shivering as you come undone around him, your cunt milking him, but he keeps going, intent on driving you crazy as you go over the edge as many times as he can get you to. The man is like a machine.

"Fuck yourself on me, baby," he says, hands off yours hips as he lifts your shirt, exposing your pink lacy bra. He pulls the cups down, freeing your tits, rolling your nipples between his fingers as you move your ass against him, indeed fucking yourself on him until you come again, a high-pitched squeal emanating from your sweet lips.

"There's my good little cumslut.. look how fucking wrecked she is.." he holds your face up to the mirror. "Tits hanging out, panties pulled all the way down, pussy stuffed with my fat cock.. she just wants to be used, wants my cum. That right, sweetpea? You want my cum?" He smirks as you nod. "Gotta earn it, baby. What are you gonna do to earn it, huh?"

"Anything you want," you gasp, trying to hold back, the feel of him filling you and stretching you. Even though you're sopping wet it's a sting as he crams into you. He likes it that way, and he knows you like it that way.

"Get on your knees for me, sweetpea. Come on, right here on the dirty ground for me."

You do just that, pulling your jeans up a little to give you some padding but Dave tsk tsks and tells you to keep them down, your bare knees on the cold hard restroom tile. You take his cock into your mouth, tasting your own juices on him, your pussy tightening around nothing as your mouth descends down his thick shaft, slowly, letting your teeth scrape against him.

He hisses but instead of pulling away he grabs your hair and pulls you forward. You gag, taking all of him in your mouth, your nose pressed against his neatly trimmed pubic hair. He keeps you there, watching your eyes water, until he pulls you back, a long string of thick saliva between your mouth and his dick. "Don't bite me ever again," he warns, his voice cool and even. "Just for that, I'm not going to let you swallow." He pulls you forward again but with less force. You open your mouth wide, receiving him again, forcing your gag reflex to ease off as you curl your lips over your teeth, bringing him in until you feel him at the back of your throat.

"So delicate," he murmurs. "Still so innocent, but you're growing into such a good little slut for me.. now look up at me, keep your eyes on me."

A knock at the restroom door. Dave tells them "Fuck off!" while his eyes never leave yours.

You suck him off, eyes on him, watching his head roll back as you lift his shaft to draw your tongue softly along his balls, one by one, and putting them in your mouth to suck before releasing them with a loud pop. Dave groans, his cock twitching. You hold out your tongue and he taps the head on it, thick and heavy. "Play with your tits, sweetpea. Play with yourself while I come on your pretty face."

You palm your breasts, gasping as you pluck at your nipples, hardened pebbles of nerve endings, and the other hand goes down to play with your pussy, slipping between your folds and gathering your cream, slipping it into your mouth. Dave groans again, taking hold of his cock and stroking it, teeth sinking into his bottom lip. "Christ, girl, you're such a fucking little tease. I'm gonna show you what bad little sluts like you get.." he strokes faster and you know he's on the brink. You jump a little when the first warm splash hits your cheek, then several more warm globs land on your nose, your lips, your forehead, almost the same places that Dave usually kisses you. He's sending you kisses of a different kind.

"Yeah.. yeah.." he moans, his movements slower as he finishes coming on your face, his dick deflating. You scoop up his cum from your face and lick it off while he watches with a darkened expression, helping you, feeding you his cum from right off your face. "That's your reward, sweetpea, for doing so well with your gun training today. And for handling my gun so well," he adds, a little smirk on his lips.

Later in the afternoon, jogging side by side at the park, you breathe in tandem with one another, keeping the same beat. You bet even your hearts are beating in unison. You look good in your new Lululemon's, and the minute you're alone again he's going to tear them off you, buy you some more to replace them only to ruin those too because he can't handle the way your ass bounces as you jog ahead of him. But right now you're just running. No headphones, no AirPods, no music save each other's breathing, the small grunts and sighs that leave your mouths, reminiscent of the sounds you make while fucking.

Taking a small break, you sit at a park bench, sipping cool water from your thermoses. There's a small pond, peaceful in the autumn breeze, and in the silence you share, your fingertips find each other on the seat of the bench.

"This was the best day," you tell him, a little smile on your lips, knowing he'll probably tease you for your sentimentality.

He leans back in his seat, a placid smile on his face. "It was nice, wasn't it?"

"What was your best day?" you ask, wishing you were at home so you could rest your head on his shoulder.

"Best days don't interest me," he says. "I like days that change your life."

"Oh." You smile, taking in the sound of that, thinking of your own. "What was a day that changed your life, Dave?" You assume there have to be plenty, given his life experiences, his age, his marriage, his children.

He appears to think it over, mentally flipping through the Rolodex in his mind containing things he would tell you and things he might never want to. "The day I lost a good friend," he says, his eyes taking on a faraway look, so different from the Dave you've come to know: cold and calculating or warm and friendly, depending on who has his attention.

"What happened?" you ask, your hand on his arm in a show of support, wanting to do more to make that smile return to his face, knowing if you weren't in public you'd get on your knees, stuff your ready and willing mouth with his cock and let him skull fuck the pain and sadness away.

Dave takes a deep breath, looking around as if seeing his surroundings for the first time. "He died," he said shortly, obviously not wanting to dwell on the topic. When his gaze settles on you it's not dour as you expect, but pleasant. He quickly takes your hand from his arm and kisses it, only risking small moments between you out in public.

"Do you want to talk about it?" you offer, hoping for a morsel, some breadcrumb he can give you about the life he had before you, what shaped him. When you have shared so much he has given so little in return.

"I don't," he says simply, with a sigh, looking out over the pond. And that's all you get. You learn to live with the small pieces he gives, doling them out like rewards for your love and loyalty.

"What was yours?" he asks you in the car on the way home.

"What do you mean?" you ask, your hand resting on his on your thigh.

"The day that changed your life, sweetpea."

"Oh." You'd forgotten about the question after Dave had successfully evaded going into detail about his. You know right away what the answer is, the little dark cloud that's always been there, staining the memories of what should have been the happiest time of your life. "When my father died," you reply, staring straight ahead as you come to a stoplight.

He's quiet a moment, absorbing your words, and when he looks at you there's protectiveness in his eyes, a sort of superhero look in him at the way he sets his jaw. "You said he was bad to you and your brother, and most of all to your mom."

You nod.

"What happened, if I may ask?"

It's a little odd that he asks the same question he'd evaded just moments before, when you were trying to get inside that head of his, see what makes him tick.

"Was it bad?" he asks, looking at you intently, his hand caressing your hair.

A beat passes by, then another, and another. The light turns green and he drives on, his hand on your lap squeezing your thigh as if to remind you he'd asked you a question.

"He was killed."

"Killed.." Dave repeats. You see his mind working overtime, piecing together this history of you. "Killed as in..?"

"Murdered. Home invasion."

You remember seeing the flashing red and blue lights of the police cars parked in front of your house, the ambulance, the yellow police tape, watching detectives cross under that tape, going in and out of your house as if it was nothing, but they wouldn't let you or your mom through. Nobody would answer your questions. Your brother had refused to even come out of the car, staying stock still in the backseat, eyes wide, taking in the entire scene before him.

Then you saw it, and you had to do a double take. A body was brought out on a stretcher, covered in that awful black tarp that you'd only ever seen on TV. You just knew it was him. And your mother's wail of agony pierced the air, became part of the background noise as your reality became suspended, the moment stretching out into an agonizing eternity.

A detective tried to calm your mom, who looked like she was about to sink to her knees in grief. She was taken aside, led to the open backseat of a cop car, given a blanket around her shoulders. In a daze you watched your dad's body lifted into the waiting ambulance, its lights off, siren silent. No emergency for a dead man.

The night was a blur of questions, the same ones asked over and over again. Questions about your dad, his habits, what enemies he had. He was a police captain, he probably had a lot of enemies. You didn't have much information for them.

It was your eighteenth birthday and you'd been out celebrating with your family when your dad had had to leave. Why he'd gone home, no one could explain. He'd left in a taxi so you could drive your mom and brother home later.

A robbery gone bad, so they called it. Precious family items were taken, namely your mother's jewelry and pieces from your own collection: your class ring you'd only just received, and a gold plated bracelet you were given as a baby at your christening, bearing your name in perfect cursive.

No clues, no fingerprints, and no suspects. The neighbors had only called the police when he complained about a neighbor playing their TV too loud. Eventually the case went cold. Your dad was buried. You barely remembered the funeral. The photo of him they used in his obituary showed a man in his prime, a look of noble austerity on his face, so different from the cruel, manipulative, abusive man your family knew.

At your graduation people paid their respects to you, mentioned him in the religious invocation. Your dad was a pillar of the community. You made a habit of accepting condolences, accepting the way your life had become.

You had to move. Your mom refused to continue to live in the same place where your dad had so violently lost his life. And so she and your brother made their way to Tennessee while you stayed behind for college, moving north to pursue your Master's..

You're back in the driveway before you've finished your story. Dave's holding your hand, rubbing his thumb across your knuckles. "Sweetpea," he murmurs, trying to collect his thoughts. "That's awful." He lifts your chin with his finger. "I'm so sorry, baby."

"It was my worst day," you confirm. "To say that it changed my life is an understatement."

Dave asks, "How did it feel, saying goodbye to the man who was responsible for the suffering you endured for so long?"

You look at him, this man who has also put you through a different kind of suffering. The first man to really see you, the first to fuck you, the first to risk everything just to be with you. The first man who really loves you.

"It felt like justice," you answer. "As much as it hurt to lose him that way, to watch my mother lose her husband, I couldn't tell anyone how happy I was that I was finally free of him."

The look on Dave's face changes, becomes one of almost adoration.

"You really cared for the friend you lost," you say with utmost thoughtfulness. "And it changed you.. made you stronger? Or made you worse?"

Suddenly that look of adoration is gone, replaced by a guarded detachment. he doesn't give you an answer, once again leaving you in the dark.

Since your heart-to-heart about the best/worst day of your life, Dave has been taciturn, keeping to himself. But by now you know how to handle his moods.

It's actually your idea for the sex tape.

On the weekend you return home, not needed at the York's. You give Dave a call, and hang up in a huff when it rings and rings, ultimately going to voicemail.

There's more than one way to skin a cat..

Stripping off your clothes, you make yourself comfortable on the bed, letting your fingers glide over your skin. You're thinking of Dave, of his hands on you, and they drift across the slope of your breasts, over your belly, and just before your touch slides down further, you put your phone on video mode and place it between your legs.

Dave stretches in his chair, taking a small break from his work. Carol's baking something with the girls; the sugary sweet aroma permeates through his home office door, making his mouth water. He checks his phone, seeing a missed call from you, as well as a video message. Upon opening it his eyes go wide.

Your fingers tease your folds, swiping smoothly over your clit before dipping inside, your ring and middle fingers slipping into your glistening slit, over and over. He watches, transfixed, listening to the music of your moans, knowing when you're close by the increasing urgency of your gasps.

He's removed from his trance by a knock at his door. Carol is there, a plate of warm chocolate chip cookies on a plate, fresh from the oven. "Snack break?" she smiles.

"No thanks, babe," he falters for a moment. "I've actually got to tend to something at the office."

"But it's Saturday.."

"Carol," he says sternly. "I don't want to hear it right now."

Your video starts playing again, the sound muffled in Dave's pocket. he shuts it off quickly.

"What was that?" Carol asks suspiciously.

"Some stupid TikTok video someone sent me. I don't understand those things." He shakes his head. "Hey, I'll take a rain check on those cookies." His hand on his wife's shoulder is encouragement enough to make her smile before he leaves.

As soon as you open the door for him he's on you, stopping whatever words of greeting you have with a scorching kiss.

"I take it you liked my video," you say smugly, breaking the kiss and pulling away so you can give him the full view of your lingerie: scarlet lace bra, matching lacy thong, and fishnet stockings.

"Wanna make another one?"

"Put on a little show for me, sweetpea."

He's pushed down to the bed. The phone is recording, the ring light shines perfectly on your swaying hips, 'Dance for You' by Beyoncé playing in the background. You grind yourself on his lap, feeling powerful as you feel him start to rise beneath your teasing touch. His hands roam your body, mapping out every curve, getting lost in the contrast of your silky skin and the velvet of your blood-red lingerie. His fingers burn you everywhere, in the best way.

"My girl's hungry, isn't she?" One of his large hands dips into your panties, finding you deliciously wet. "Oh yeah, she's already drooling." He licks you off his fingers then goes in for seconds and feeds that to you. "But she has to be patient."

Dave gets situated on the edge of the bed, and like clockwork you kneel before him to unbuckle his belt. Once you have him free from his boxers your mouth wraps around his base, taking him as deep as possible, and his hands cup the back of your head, lacing his fingers together.

Your tongue stiffens, teasing the under-seam of his dick, making his breath shudder. You'd smile if you weren't concentrating on making your mouth Ziplock tight.

Being a careful man, Dave isn't entirely comfortable being filmed, but there's something raunchy about the way you're showing off for the camera. It brings out a wildness in you that he knows has always been there.

When he tells you he's close and urges your head down you stay still, allowing him to use your throat. You moan in surprise as he comes, and before swallowing it, you show him the puddle of cum on your tongue, some of it dribbling down your chin.

"My girl did so good," he growls, pulling you up to the bed, switching places so he's now kneeling before you. There's an ache between your thighs that only Dave can ease. You run your fingers through his soft brown hair as he peppers kisses across your chest, down your abdomen, and rips your flimsy thong off you.

You whimper as Dave's lips and tongue work in tandem to orchestrate your pleasure. In praise of him your moans are loud, high-pitched. He's relentless with you, wanting you to come hard for him and for the camera. You scream his name as a hot surge runs through you, thighs clamped around his head.

Dave licks up and swallows your honey, watches with lust-filled eyes as you scoot back on the bed, legs open. "Tie my hands," you murmur provocatively, "with your belt."

He wastes no time, slotting your hands between the bars of your headboard, deftly making an effective knot that won't hurt you (too much) or be too complicated to release you from. Then he slides over, free of his clothes, and tastes you once more before moving over you and fucking you slow then fast, hard then gentle; your legs around his waist, then over his shoulders, chuckling darkly as you struggle, seeing how much you like it when you gush, ultimately crying out his name as you come once, twice, thrice.

"There's my girl, coming for me," he grunts out, voice filled with pride. "You know I love coming on that pretty face.. but tonight I want to fill you up." And, moments later, the camera closes in on your cunt, swollen and absolutely wrecked, shiny with your juices. You give a little push and his cum dribbles out.

"We look so good on camera," you say contentedly as you cuddle with him, finishing the viewing of your sex tape. You're unbound now, your wrists a little pink but otherwise unharmed from being tied up.

"Damn right we do," Dave agrees, giving your hair a soft kiss. "This stays between us, right, sweetpea?" He tries to keep the worry out of his voice.

"Just between us," you assure him.

"Good." He looks satisfied. "You know, I was thinking.. you know I'm a perfectionist.. and even though we did some stellar work, I think we can do better."

You grin at his implication. "Round two?"

"Round two," he nods. "And three, four, five.." his count disappears as he pulls you on top of him, burying his face in your neck as you giggle.

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dividers by @saradika-graphics 👑

@guelyury @untamedheart81 @auteurdelabre @darkheartgatita

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

Part 27

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Part 26 🟣 Part 28

A reverse harem vampire AU ft. Mikey, Marshall, August and Sherlock

Series summary: Somehow, you've managed to live with your boyfriend and his roommates for months before finding out they're vampires, but the real shock first comes when they find out you have a special quality. A quality the guys would love to make use of...

Warnings: Fluff, ongoing vampire shenanigans, angst, lore, some more angst. And something called Disgruntled Teenageer Syndrome.

Word count: 3k

A/N: I know I've been teasing y'all with some beautiful warnings on a very lovely chapter involving a ver feral Marshall and a very suddenly present August... Well... This ain't it! (It's the next one, so please put your pitchforks down :c )

@geralts-yenn @deandoesthingstome @ellethespaceunicorn @summersong69 @mis-lil-red

@sillyrabbit81 @livisss @itsrubberbisquit @ktficworld @proud-aroace-beastie

@plaidcat4815 @wa-ni @lovemusicpart2 @lizzystuffsthings @manysecrets2020

@sarcasmoverlordxo

“August?” Your footsteps echoed through the hallway, which looked suspiciously empty and rug-less, unlike the rest of the house — however much or little you’d seen of it, anyway.

“Yes, princess? Why are you—” He probably finished that sentence, but you couldn’t hear, because you’d bumped into something, and your phone was now lying on the floor with a massive crack in the screen. When you looked around to find the cause of your phone’s untimely demise, you were suddenly faced with none other than Charles Brandon.

“Terribly sorry,” he muttered. A suspiciously cold hand landed on your shoulder with slightly too much force. “Priya just called to let me know she’s feeling a lot better. She’ll be back later this week, so this won’t happen again. Were you… calling August?”

You nodded — an answer that clearly confused Charles. “Why? He’s home.”

“I can’t find anyone in this damn house. Where am I, even?”

“About as far away from August as the house allows,” he said with a slight chuckle to his voice. “The others are closer.” You barely spotted him casting a quick glance over your shoulder, and before you could turn around, he tightened his grip on your shoulder, preventing you from moving. “Tell me who’s behind you.”

“Do you think I have eyes in the back of my head or something?” You rolled your eyes at Charles, wishing you could somehow wipe the annoyed expression off his face.

“You don’t need your eyes,” he said on a sigh. And here you were, thinking Mike was the impatient one… “You’re connected to them on a level you can’t even comprehend. You can sense them.”

You glared at Charles. If you could sense them, you would, right? The fact that you didn’t was quite the indication that you couldn’t.

He reached for your cheek, gently trailing an icy knuckle along your cheekbone. “Poor thing,” he murmured. Was he closer to you? Were his eyes bluer? His smile kinder? “They’ve not taught you half of what you can do. I—” The chill left behind by his fingers lingered, but Charles had disappeared.

“I hope for his sake that August didn’t see that,” Marshall muttered behind you. “Are you alright?”

“What just happened?” you asked as you turned around, only to find Marshall a lot closer to you than expected.

“You’ll have to talk to Charles. I doubt he’s entirely sure of what happened… Sherlock should kn—”

“Sherlock already knows.” Another body appeared behind you — Sherlock, of course. “I’m afraid he’s locked himself away for too long…” Something about the tone in which he spoke spread the lingering cold throughout your body, allowed it to seep into your bones.

“Don’t worry about it right now, love,” Marshall said as he wrapped his arms around you. It didn’t help much. Don’t worry about it? Right. You’d worry as you damn well pleased, thank you very much! “We might focus on that point he made, first. It was a good one.”

Before you knew it, you were in the living room — a living room? How many of those did this place even have?

“Two. Not including the one in Charles’ suite,” Marshall helpfully provided, and before you could even think of saying something, he added: “We’re all well aware this house is absolutely ridiculous.”

“Alright, alright…” Mike excitedly flapped his hands at no one in particular. “Why did you drag her here?”

“I’m assuming it’s because she keeps getting lost?” August asked.

“Yes,” you admitted. “And Charles scared me into dropping my phone, which is now dead, so I can’t call you anymore, and…”

“I finally get to buy you a new phone?” He’d been begging you to let him replace your phone for months now, but you’d always refused him. You were not about to enable his tech-buying mania. Besides, your phone had always worked fine. Alright! It had been falling apart at the seams, but it worked, so it was fine. That excuse was gone now.

“More importantly,” Marshall said, eyeing Mike in a ‘calm down’ kind of way, “we were just more or less accused of keeping her in the dark on her own abilities. And rightfully so.”

You watched them discuss your conversation with Charles for a moment, not entirely sure what was going on, but the idea seemed to be that your connection to the guys should allow you to sense their presence without having to be near them, and it was something that needed some training. Training you would be receiving right now.

“And how would that work?” you finally asked, fighting back a smile when the guys looked at you with guilt in their eyes. “Yeah, I’m still here.”

The guys stayed quiet for a while, until… “We’re not doing that, August.”

“I didn’t…” He looked at you with suspicion in his eyes. He didn’t what?

“Looks like August’s thoughts aren’t safe from you anymore, either,” Marshall chuckled, smiling wider as he looked at the increasingly confused look on August’s face. “We recently found out she has an aptitude for my gift.”

Safe to say, August wasn’t amused by this revelation.

“So, since blindfolds are out,” Marshall continued the previous conversation, leaving an unintelligibly grumbling August to his sulking. “Sherlock? Any ideas?”

“Naturally,” he replied dryly. “But I’m afraid depriving you of sight will most definitely be part of the first exercise, darling.”

And that’s how you ended up on a chair in the living room with a blindfold, while the guys took turns standing in front of you, making you tell them who it was. You got it wrong a depressing number of times, if you did say so yourself.

“Sweetcheeks, listen,” Mike’s hands appeared on your shoulders. Wait. Those weren’t Mike’s…

“This is trippy, guys,” you said, trying to yank your blindfold off, but Marshall’s hands were — of course — faster than yours.

“What is?” Mike asked again. The sound came from the right place… Were you wrong? No.

“Marshall touching me while you are talking. It’s strange, okay?” For lack of a better term, because this whole thing had been strange from the beginning, to say the least.

“Okay, so you know it’s him because you know what it feels like when he touches you,” Mike said with a little too much of a suggestive edge to his voice. He continued, and his voice moved away from you, until he was standing in front of you. “You know what it feels like when he’s near you, too. You’ve just never paid attention to it.”

“I don’t know how!” you cried out in frustration. “What am I supposed to feel?”

“Do you remember our conversation about coven bonds?” August chimed in. You nodded. “Great. You’re bound to us in the same way we are to each other.”

“Interesting, but ultimately unhelpful,” you sighed.

“I didn’t want to bring this up,” Mike said carefully. “But when August divorced us, so to speak… You must have felt that, right?”

You nodded again, wincing involuntarily at the unpleasant memory. The feeling that something snapped. The sharp pain… No! This had to end, you couldn’t go through that again, you…

“Keep going, Sweetcheeks,” Mike encouraged you in a strained voice. Was this hurting him as much as it was hurting you? “You’re almost there, I know you can feel it.”

“God knows he does,” August said, confirming your suspicions and sounding a little too happy about the situation. “He’s right, though, you’ve almost got it.”

“You said the ties weren’t tangible,” you complained, gritting your teeth in a desperate attempt to fight back tears.

“It would depend on your definition of ‘tangible’, princess,” August sighed. “Get on with it. The sooner you get this, the sooner it stops being uncomfortable.”

And just as you thought you couldn’t handle the pain of that horrible memory for a single second longer, something changed. August was right — though you’d think twice to tell him that. ‘Tangible’ wasn’t the right word. It wasn’t necessarily the wrong word, either.

“It’s complicated,” Marshall said softly. When did you stop wishing he’d stay out of your head?

Sherlock ordered Mike to move around the living room. He didn’t make a sound — of course he didn’t. Vampire. — but you didn’t lose track of his whereabouts even a single time. “This is still weird.”

“Can’t be weirder than all the other things,” Mike said as he wrapped his arms around you and squeezed you tight. “That was great!”

“But it’s just you.” You pouted at him, and then looked at the others. “I still don’t have a clue about the others.”

“Figuring that out won’t be easier,” Sherlock explained, “but it will entail far fewer risks.”

“What risks?” you demanded, ripping off the blindfold — this time without anyone trying to stop you.

“I may or may not have risked breaking our bond to help you find it,” Mike said, shrugging. Was he just shrugging this off? Motherf—

“You’ll be the death of me,” you said, glaring up at him and his dumb, apologetic smile. “How?”

“Remembering that feeling tugs on those strings,” Mike explained. “It’s uncomfortable, but it allowed you to find it. There was a small chance of you going too deep and…”

“I would have lost you?”

“You’ve repaired your connection before,” August noted. “There’s a very decent chance you could have done that again.”

“I don’t want to do that again, because it sucked,” you snapped, eyeing Mike angrily.

“Water under the bridge, love,” Marshall said, smoothing his hands over your arms. “Now, all you need to do is find where Mike is attached, and look for the rest of us.”

On special occasions such as this one, you missed the way your life had been before apparently attaching yourself to a bunch of vampires.

“You don’t mean that,” Marshall said with a smile.

No. You did not. But this was still weird.

Weird or not, you did what Marshall told you to do, and you were pleased to find that it was indeed not painful this time around. Only significantly more difficult. “I can’t… get a hold of it.”

“You don’t have to, princess,” August sighed. “You just need to feel it.”

“I mean I lose it before I can figure out where it goes,” you snapped back. It probably didn’t help that they were crowding you. Everything felt tangled in a way you couldn’t put into words. “Can you take a step back? Maybe two, even.”

They immediately did as you asked, and the task didn’t necessarily get any easier, but it sure as hell wasn’t as confusing. “I think I’ve figured August and Marshall out, but Sherlock… I’m so sorry.” Why did this bring you to tears? Seriously. Why were you crying?

“That’s okay, darling,” he said gently. “My age is making this more difficult. It’s not you.”

“You should try this with Melot,” Mike added. “I still have trouble finding him sometimes, because—”

“Mike, later.” August snapped. “This is complicated enough without another history lesson, or biology lesson, or any other kind of lesson.”

He was right: this was difficult, and exhausting, and now that you were starting to get the hang of it, you wanted to get in some more practice before you got really tired, but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t quite grasp the tether that connected you to Sherlock.

“It will be easier once you’re more comfortable seeking out the others,” Sherlock promised, but it didn’t bring you much comfort at all.

“And his gift doesn’t help, either,” Mike said slightly too enthusiastically. “It’s annoying, the way he kinda pops in and out of existence. It can make it really tough to keep track of him, and—”

“Mike!” August cut through his monologue. “That’s unhelpful, and you’re rambling. She’ll get there when she gets there. I have stuff to do.” No one ever asked August what kind of stuff. You were fairly sure you didn’t necessarily want to know.

Marshall and Sherlock excused themselves as well, and you were left standing around in the living room with just Mikey, who looked at you with a devious glint in his eyes. The kind you knew all too well, and adored more than anything in the world. “Wanna play a game of hide and seek with me?”

Was that a silly suggestion? Sure. Childish, in a way? Absolutely. Did it sound unbelievably fun? Definitely yes. He must have picked up on your enthusiasm, because before you could answer, he was gone, leaving you in the living room all by yourself. Or so you thought.

“What are you waiting for?” Leon was standing right behind you, his lips right next to your ear. “It’s not like you could ever catch up with him.”

“When did you get here?”

“I’ve been here the whole time,” he said, with a devious hint of amusement to his smooth voice. “The lingering tension between you and Marshall is too good to stay away from.”

“So, we won’t be rid of you for a while, then?” you said, faking impatience and disappointment. For some reason, you didn’t mind him lurking around the house.

“I’d like to point out that I live here, too,” he said sharply. “It’s… It used to be tough for me to feed here. A problem that appears to have been solved by your arrival. If you’ll allow me, that is.”

“Allow you to do what, exactly?” Why was it so impossible to get rid of that lump in your throat?

“Napoleon, that’s quite enough.” Charles. “You’re venturing into dangerous territory, as you well know. Though I suspect that only makes the situation all the more enticing to you.” He shook his head, seemingly disappointed.

“Forgive me, father,” Leon said, a devious smirk forming on his face. And then, he was gone.

“Stay away from him,” Charles said on a deep, annoyed sigh.

“Like you stay away from me?” you countered, putting your hands on your hips and conjuring every bit of defiance you could find.

“Yes.”

“I’m trying. He just…”

“Shows up?” Charles asked, quirking an eyebrow. “He does that, yes.”

“So do you,” you huffed. You barely even knew this man, and he was pissing you off thoroughly.

“My apologies.” He sounded sincere. Then again, what the hell did you know? “I’m not quite used to having a guest I attempt to avoid.”

“Then don’t?”

“I’m afraid I don’t have much of a choice. I promise it has nothing to do with you, personally.” Well, that wasn’t reassuring at all. You glared at him, but before you could say anything, he was gone.

With a great deal of effort, you pushed your frustrations with both Leon and Charles aside, and concentrated on your connection with Mike. It was faint, but definitely still there. You had no idea how long you were standing there, but with every passing second, the feeling became clearer — and by the time you opened your eyes, the feeling had become so strong you could almost see it. Now, all you had to do, was follow it.

Mike would make for a nice reward for your efforts.

With every step, the pull became stronger, and it was extremely difficult to go in the wrong direction, as long as you stayed focused on finding Mikey, and your feet almost moved of their own accord. You knew where he was. You knew where to go.

There he was. Behind this door. As soon as you opened it, familiar hands grabbed you and dragged you into the room — although ‘room’ was a bit of an overstatement — and you were pushed against the door as soon as it fell shut behind you.

“You found me,” Mike whispered. His tone was playful, as was the way he playfully bit your earlobe, and then your neck. You prevented his descent between your boobs by pulling his face up to yours.

“Is this a broom closet, Mikey?”

“Yes.” He focused his attention on your neck again. “I couldn’t hide in my room, like… that would have been too obvious! Besides… This is fun.”

You knew that if you tried to deny that, you’d ultimately be unsuccessful, so you didn’t bother. Instead, you pulled Mike’s face to yours and kissed him.

As per usual, he didn’t waste time, slipping his tongue into your mouth with his signature impatience as he lifted you up so you could wrap your legs around his waist. Pinned between his body and the door, you spent your time trying not to giggle at his unparalleled enthusiasm. Until the door was gone.

You expected to fall backwards, but Mike held you up — thank God, because you didn’t exactly feel like getting a concussion today. Or any day, for that matter.

“I need a broom.” You recognized Melot’s voice — not that the accent wouldn’t have been a dead giveaway if you hadn’t. To your dismay, Mike put you back on your feet and pulled you into the hallway. “And can you guys get a fucking room, maybe?”

“What’s his problem?” you asked when Melot disappeared as suddenly as he’d shown up.

“Disgruntled teenager syndrome,” August chuckled. You’d stopped wondering where they came from. Vampire fast, vampire here. Simple. “He’s a little lost, now that his role as patriarch of the family has been passed on to Sherlock.”

“He never had much of a childhood, did he?” you wondered out loud.

“Did you hear him when he said he’d been married for nearly six years before he was turned into a vampire at age nineteen?” August asked, showing some of that signature derisive tone he’d always used with you before you entered into your agreement with the guys. You nodded. Of course you’d heard that. “Did you, by any chance, do the math?”

Honestly, you’d been a little preoccupied with the heaps of information that had been flung your way at the time, so no, you hadn’t. But now that August mentioned it… He’d been…

“Fourteen,” August whispered. “He got married when he was fourteen.”

You considered the implications of that for a moment. “Are there therapists for that?”

Both Mike and August laughed at that comment, but you didn’t think it was particularly funny. He’d been married at fourteen. Regardless of whether or not that had been normal at the time, it sure as hell wasn’t now, and…

“There are,” August answered. “And he’ll come around. He’s just looking for his place right now and that’s not an easy thing to figure out.”

[silent-raven13]

Not taking the Chance

(AU: After Miles prove everyone wrong. Hobie develops a crush on him. Things don't go the way it should be. Slightly Angst.)

It started off with a certain blond girl afraid, homeless, and most of all, lonely. She came arrive on Earth 138 searching for a Spider-man named Hobie Brown.

When she first got to the location Lyla had directed her, she stumble a punker that was badass. Ever since then, Gwen had became great friends with Hobie Brown. Hell, she even helped him out of retirement as Spider-man.

The punker had this dark charm that cause anyone to personally know him, to like him, it can be platonic or romantic. Either way, everyone loves Hobie Brown.

Gwen was soon taken in by him, he welcomes her in his boathouse. The punker saw her mentioning she got no place to go in one of their missions. So he simply welcomes her as a friend, he never abandon his friends, but he did deny being involved Spider Society. He goes by his own beliefs and rules.

Anyway, the two were chilling in his bedroom just talking. Gwen wore one of his band-shirts and pajama pants, she told her fucked up story from the lost of her best friend to her dad pulling a gun on her. Hobie can only think of "That's fucked!"

No wonder she glue to him, she needed someone by her side seeing how she runaway from home. Then she began talking about Miles. "Miles?" Hobie finally asked as he worked on his guitar strings.

"Yeah, he's a cool Spider-man. You know, he doesn't back down from a fight," She casually went on, "Even when you tell him, he can't do it, he just does it."

Hobie assumes this Miles was some white boy being Spider-man, with all these multi-verses missions there was so many versions of Peter Parker. Hardly a Spider-man being Black or brown, he assumes Gwen had a type of white boys seeing how the canon is always a Gwen falling in love with a Peter.

He shrugs it off, "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, it's just amazing how brave he is and he's a sweet artist! You would love his work!"

"I doubt it..."

"Really?" His eyebrow arched at Gwen's cheeks being red, "Sounds like you got a lil crush on the bloke?" He smirks widely seeing her stuttering and changing the topic.

"No! NOOO! No! He's just a great friend... I mean, he does like-like me..." She trails on with her left hand grab a random screw driver, "I mean, I like him as a friend... not a crush or maybe... pfft... i dunno maybe? I mean, he's a great guy! He's a bit awkward but once you get to know him, he's sweet, funny...."

Hobie chuckles in amusement, "Hah, I get it. You think the bloke is cute that's all?"

"Mmm-hhmmm," She nodded being shy about it.

"Well, I ever meet him?"

"You know, we can't. Miguel thinks he's the caused of all of this." She shows off her Gizmo reminding the punker of the anomalies. "It's better to not see him."

"Because Miguel is right about his ridiculous theory?" Hobie asked.

"Well yeah, it makes sense. You saw how many Gwens died from falling for Spider-man!" She said out loud, "How there's always death in our family! Series of events that triggers being a Spider-hero!"

"You're here... won't you be considered an anomaly like Miles?" Hobie asked.

"I... I dunno. I don't think so. Miguel hasn't said anything about that, and for Miles, he became Spider-man from another dimensional radioactive spider!"

"Was it his fault?"

"What?"

"Was it his fault to be bitten by a radioactive spider?" He asked her. "Because it could be wrong place, wrong time," his fingers flicks on of his strings, "or perfect timing."

Gwen said nothing for the moment there's silence. "Miguel gave me this watch to help me. I owe him for that. I owe Jess for taking me in and being part of Spider Society." She finally said, "Is it wrong for be this selfish?"

"Dunno know. You will see in the end if it was worth it." Hobie shrugs, "All I know that bloke is full of shit. I don't trust'em."

"Heh, will you ever trust them?"

"Nah, bunch of blokes trying to control things that can't be stop. All of it is pure fascism."

"Okay," She laughs before getting to sleep on the bed, "I'ma knock out. I'm a bit exhausted."

"Alright, nite, mate."

"Night." She crawls onto the bed to sleep.

After a few months, Hobie and Gwen been close friends. He helped her get a new haircut and pierced her eyebrows. Gwen needed a change. For the punker, he saw her nothing more than a friend and helps her whenever. Somehow down the line Gwen suddenly liked Hobie in a romantic way, it was more than a friend. She wasn't sure how or why, but she did fall for him.

While this was happening, they met Pavitr. A bubbly Indian Spider-man with his fondness for romance and being one of the kindhearted heroes around. The three became an easy pair of duos.

Then one day the three were in Spider Society to grab some lunch, Gwen spotted Peni with Jess. "Peni?" Gwen gobbles her burrito up to go to talk to her.

"Gwen? You're here, too!" Peni looked in shock.

"Yeah, shit happened..." She mumbles.

Jess arched her eyebrows, "You know her, Gwen?"

"Yeah, we worked together... once." Gwen awkwardly answered.

"I see." The pregnant Spider-woman casually said, "Well, you can show her around. I have to go help Ben."

"Alright." Gwen saw Jess leaving them alone. Hobie and Pavitr came by.

"Who's this?" Pavitr asked.

Peni saw the other Spider-men, "My name is Peni. I'm from Earth14512."

"Hi, I'm Pavitr! Earth 50101!" He happily waves his hand at her.

Hobie shrugs, "Hobie." He didn't say much like he needed to.

Gwen finally said, "How you been?"

Peni's face changed into a tired depressive expression, "A lot has happened... I... You know, who they are against here, right?" She finally asked Gwen.

"Yeah..." Gwen sighs.

"And you haven't seen him?"

"Not since the last time we saw him." She rub her neck.

"Who are they talking about?" Pavitr whispers.

"You know, the bloke the tyrant is beefing with." Hobie mutters.

"Ohhh, him! Wow, so she knows him too?"

"Looks like it." Hobie whispers in his friend's ear.

Peni said to Gwen, "I know, I shouldn't have join but... this place gets me..."

"Same." Gwen hugs her, "It's okay. We all been there." Peni sniffs, hugging her back feeling so exhausted.

"I'm just so tired of it..." She finally said.

Hobie felt this all too well, to be Spider-man is to be completely exhausted. To be mentally and physically exhausted from it all. One of the reasons to quit being one. He can only pity the little lass, whatever she's going through must be rough. The bags under her eyes shown how drained she is.

When Peni calm down, the group went to get a smoothie. Peni said, "I know, Miles is a great Spider-man, and he's really nice, but I just needed this." She said.

"I know. You don't need to explain it to me." Gwen said, with her hand rubbing Peni's back. "It's hard."

"It is. I hope when we meet again... he doesn't hate us."

Pavitr finally asked, "Is Miles really great? I keep hearing mix things about him."

Hobie also wants to know about that. Peni gave a sincere smirk, "He's a great friend. Something about him... he doesn't quit even when shit hits the fan and all seemed lost. He always found a way, and... I feel like he's the only one that loves being a Spider-man."

"Huh? What about me? I love being a Spider-man!" Pavitr said out loud being expressive.

Gwen mutters to Peni, "He recently became Spider-man."

"Ah, noted." She nodded.

Hobie causally said, "Loves being a Spider-man? Ha, now I gotta meet the bloke. He sounds like he's out of his mind." No one ever is happy being Spider-man, so hearing this bloke being this great got him very curious.

"You haven't met Miles Morales." Peni gave Hobie a small smile, her eyes were genuine.

"Miles Morales."

Peni finally show the group of Miles in his Spider-man suit, "He really is the type to never give up that's what I admire him for."

Hobie and Pavitr saw the photo of a Spider-man with a black and red suit. "Oi, did he make that jumper?" Hobie spotted the spray paint of colors on the Spider-man logo.

"Yeah, he's an artist. He does graffiti." Gwen said, "He got this sweet style, Hobie."

"Somebody has a crush on him." Pavitr jokes. Gwen blushes under her mask.

"No, I don't, Pav!" She said, she caught Peni rolled her eyes and Hobie chuckling with a nudge at Pavitr.

Later that day, Gwen on the right side of the bed while Hobie sat on his armchair working on a tune for his band. The blond teenager toss and turn before saying, "I don't have a crush on Miles."

"Oh yeah?" Hobie gave another amusing chuckle, "No one is saying anything."

"I know, it's just... I don't." She finally sat up to watch the punker being busy with his guitar while humming.

"Why you're telling me this?" Hobie arched his eyebrow at her.

Gwen shrugs then had her large t-shirt fall off her left shoulder, "I dunno. Just wanted you to know." Her blues eyes on him again, she felt her cheeks being warm. Hobie had on a grey tank with some pajamas pants, he's very fit for being so skinny.

"I see..." He glances across the room spotting Gwen staring at him then he jokes, "Like what you see."

The sixteen year old tuck a piece of her blond hair behind her ear feeling flustered, with a sheepish smile and her eyes avoiding her friend, "I-I... maybe."

Hobie nodded, "I see."

"See what?"

"Nothing important." He casually said, he wasn't interested in her. But, if she were to offer some fooling around, he never been the type to say no. He had many one night stands especially when he's the lead singer of his band. It is what it is.

The only thing he's interested is knowing more about Miles Morales, "So this Miles... Morales. Is he Mexican?"

"Uhh- ummm, hmm, actually I think he's part Puerto Rican or was it Cuban. I never got their flags right... kinda look the same." She rubs her chins, "Um.. his dad, umm... he's African America-" Hobie quickly answered, "He's black?"

"Yeah, his dad is..." Gwen felt awkward saying the rest, "Black... and a cop."

"Oh?" Hobie didn't like the sound of that. "Fuck cops, fucking pigs."

"Hahaha, yeah... Well, Jeff is the good kind of cops. He really tries... you know?"

"No, I don't." Hobie grunts. "So Miles is part Puerto Rican and Black?"

"Yeah, pretty much. He's proud where he's from... though, I think he could fix a bit of his Spanish." Gwen chuckles.

"Haha, I see. So what else about him?" Hobie knows she wanted to talk more about him.

"Awe, man... where to start...."

That's how Hobie became so admirable of Miles Morales. The more he heard the stories, the more he became determined to meet him. He wanted to protect him from the dangers of Miguel O'Hara and his fascist army.

Then, when he finally met Miles, "Why he's bleeding from his armpits?" He finally asked his friends, he saw Miles' Spider-man suit with black and red lines down to his feet. The suit itself was different than any other Spider-hero he seen.

Miles at first came off a bit awkward jealous type of teen.

"Figures."

He has a crush on Gwen, everybody can see it. Even the tone of his voice screams out jealous! Hobie could only chuckle in amusement, he expect the famous Miles Morales would hate him.

Shame, really. Hobie really did admire Miles determination to get shit down, especially when the bridge collapse and Pavitr was trying to doing it all.

Hobie and Gwen knew Pavitr was meant to lose Gayatri, instead Miles changed that. Hobie never felt so much excitement, and pride in being a Spider-man after watching Miles putting in the effort.

"Admirable."

He couldn't keep his hands, he places his hands on Miles' shoulder giving him a good proud shake. Miles turns his head to him, even with the mask on, Hobie can tell he's happy.

When they went back to Spider Society, the first time seeing Miles' face. He's simply...

"Adorable!"

Big doe eyes, wide nose and such a pretty smile. Hobie didn't expect the famous Miles Morales to be this bundle of cuteness. Then, he was caught off guard by Miles' comment, when he took off his own mask.

"How are you even cooler under your mask?" Miles asked being shock by his appearance.

Hobie being Hobie simply said, "I'm cooler this whole time."

He saw the way Miles was giddy to join, being so interested with Spider Society.

What disappointed him was Gwen. "You much you told him about this whole place, hmm?"" His dark eyes on her.

Gwen awkwardly tries to avoid the situation, "A little..." Miles glitched.

"Not enough." He coldly said, he didn't like the way she behaved. It bothered him so much, and to see Miles being so unaware.

"Damn... Damn... try to change his mind."

If only Miles listened to him... Good thing, he had made a plan to create a knock off of Miguel's watch. He had to leave to finish up the first watch for Gwen. Seeing how she reacted everything will fall in order in the way he hoped.

God, even thought he didn't believe in such a thing, he hope things will go well.

-Present-

A year passed from the incident, Miles had proven everyone wrong. He was the Spider-man that made it possible to break canon and be oneself. Hobie never thought he could fall hard for him.

Through out the year, Hobie saw Miles taking a break from everyone before he felt comfortable coming back. That's fair. He told Gwen that he wanted space from her, no amount of tears changed his mind.

Hobie watched Gwen being ashamed for her own mistakes. Miles can only say, "I-I need time to think... you messed me up, Gwen. You and everyone, I trusted..." He left her to deal with her own sadness.

Hobie crosses his arms as he saw Miles spotting at him with a weak smirk, "Can you take care of her for me? I know, we're not clos-" In a heartbeat he answered, "Will do, Sunflower."

Miles chuckles, "Sunflower? Why that nickname, man?"

"You know, you look like one."

"Funny, there's a song named Sunflower and it's one of my favorites."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, maybe when I'm better... I can come by your world and show you." Miles shrugs, "If you're down."

"Always, mate." Hobie saw Gwen crying, "I should go cheer her up." Having to eye rolled at her being this dramatic. This was fair for Miles, the lad went through hell and back!

Fuck, he even saved Miguel from suicide against Spot, stop total destruction of the universes and brought back Gabriella. She still not seeing the bigger picture.

Miles chuckles, "She's grown... but hey, you know her more than me."

That sounded like an insult to injury.

"Yikes, he's upset, too."

"Hobie!" Gwen hugs him needing someone to cry on.

"Wish it was Sunflower." Honestly, Hobie had develops a massive crush on Sunflower. How bad was this crush? Super bad!

During the first three months, Miles went no contact with anyone from Spider Society. Sure, he got a special Gizmo from Miguel as some apology, and it's a cool device. Nope, he lock it away in his drawers.

Then, Hobie came by to check on him. "Whoa, man. What da? Hobie, why your here?" Miles pulled his big headphones off his ears hearing an odd sound, stopped working on his drawing, his eyes landed on the punker.

"Oi, Sunflower! How you been? Just checkin' up on you or I am on the no contact list?" Hobie sat on the window opening with his heavy boots on the window seat.

"Nah, you're good... so is Pav. It's just gotta be fair, you know. Anyway, what's up?" Miles had his eyes on him.

That's what the punker likes, to have all the attention of his Sunflower. "Nuthin' much. Just makin' music, been' Spider-man... Gwendy miss you, Peter Pan."

"Oh, yeah, I miss her and everyone, too." Miles shrugs, "But it's easier to say it and go behind my back and stab me, huh?"

Hobie stood quiet. "Sorry. Sorry, man." He shook his head, "I've been going to therapy and its been making me feel like shit."

"Gotta get worse before it gets better, Sunflower." Hobie added.

Miles chuckles letting out that pretty radiant smile. God, he loves the way he smiles. "Oh yeah? It's always that way, huh?"

"Gotta be." Hobie casually went in to lay on Miles' bed, he could smell his scent, "I was homeless before being Spider-man."

"Oh man, really?"

"Yeah, ran away from home. Personal shit... anyway, I squatted here and there." Hobie grab a squish toy to squeeze with his right hand, "Then poof, became Spider-man."

"So you're saying it got worse and worser for you." Miles teased.

"Hah, I see you got jokes, Sunflower."

"I try."

The two chatted here and there. The more Hobie got to know of Miles, the more he wants to be around him. Miles felt the same way, too. The punker would come by almost every night or whenever he had free time to see Miles. Sometimes he spot Sunflower by the window or the fire escape drawing, listening to music or hanging out his room. Hobie loves being in Miles' room or Miles' dorm, enjoying their time just talking.

No matter how much they spend together, they always have something to talk about. Hobie never talked for hours with anyone, then again he never felt this way before. Seeing Miles smiling at him with his big Honey-brown eyes gleaming whenever he comes by- Oh man, his heart melts at those doe eyes.

"So, you ever play a song or whack people with that electric guitar?" Miles asked while wearing his pajama pants and a big yellow sweater being a bit cold. The two were sitting together on his bed- well, Miles was busy drawing on his bed while Hobie pops in to check on him.

The punker loves sitting by him or laying in bed next to him. "Heh, you wanna hear me sing?"

"Mmm, maybe. My parents aren't home. They're working on their nightshift." Miles added only this time he sounded suggestive.

Hobie arched his eyebrow with a wide smirk, "Oh yeah, it sounds like you had something else in mind," this time his forehead pressed against Miles.

"Pff, nice try, Romeo." Miles chuckles, "Come on, man. Play something. I haven't heard you sing."

"Alright," Hobie let his fingers do the magic while his deep raspy voice created a rather unique song. Miles finally heard Hobie's voice and he can say this teenager is punker through and through. "So come on down and walk with me, and tell me I'm your man...."

Miles bobs his head hearing Hobie singing, "I only want to know a couple of things about you." He saw the punker bobbing his head to the song, he created, "Where were you when I was in so much trouble with myself." Their eyes meet when Hobie's voice went louder, "And do you still believe in me like I believe?"

"I've been thinking good-good things about you..." Hobie finally presses his forehead against his Sunflower's forehead, their eyes stare deep into each other. Miles let out another smile this time his cheeks look a bit warm tone like flustered rosy tint.

The punker was about to kiss him being ready to close his eyes, expecting his Sunflower to feel the same way. Instead, Miles pulls away before anything could happen, "Ahem, wow. That's a good song. Didja write it with your friends?" He clears his throat.

"Oh," Hobie pulls back trying to hide the hurt of being rejected. "I-I wrote it on the spot."

"Really? That's so dope, man!" Miles claps at his friend's performance. "I bet you rock out at concerts. Do you break shit?"

"Fuck yes, Sunflower. Look, when you get all better, I'll show you how to fucking party." Hobie pulls him into a side hug trying to mask his embarrassment.

"Yeah, it'll be fun." Miles smiles at him, then went back to sketching Hobie a bit more, "For now, is it cool you can sing?"

"Sure thing, Sunflower."

Rightfully so after six months, Miles finally returned to Spider Society with strict boundaries from everyone. Especially with Miguel, Miles still felt the wound from his left shoulder. Hobie saw Miguel respecting Miles' boundaries only having Jesse and Peter around when he gives assignments to the Spider-man that proven him wrong.

When Hobie invited Miles to one of his concerts in an underground location, everyone from the Spider-band came to cheer them on. Gwen finally being part of Hobie's band, she saw the way Hobie stares at the crowd as he screams into his microphone. The crowd cheers out loud for the duo singers having Gwen's angelic voice against the booming roaring voice of Hobie Brown.

The blond woman glances at her friend feeling her cheeks turning red, people can be fooled by the hot stage. The lights on them, the rush and adrenaline of the band playing their instruments and the loud vibrate energy from the crowd could all be the reasons of Gwen's red face.

The real reason, she's next to the tall punker rocking out being the second lead guitarist. Her blue eyes glancing over while her nose tickles from Hobie's musky sweaty scent with a hint of cigarettes and cheap cologne. She fallen for his scent, and wanted more of him. Harsh lights shining against his dark skinned tone giving a sort of glow on his face, his eyes gleams like stars. On stage this is where Hobie feels true happiness, yet...

Gwen noticed a real honest smile from him, it wasn't witty or a playfully grin- it's an actual pure joyful smile. A smile that she never saw, then noticed his dark eyes staring off at someone.

"Why don't you come dance with me?" Hobie screams into his microphone as he sings in his own way. The audience cheering on having to sing along with song. Some head bang, others made their own mosh pit or dance in their own way. It's all about enjoying the music.

The blond teenager squint her eyes afar from the crowd spotting Pavitr and Miles standing in the crowd. Pavitr being into the punk energy, he head bangs and sings along. While Miles stood being a sore thumb almost out of place, he had on a big t-shirt bobbing his head at the music. His big eyes staring right at Hobie with a small smile.

Gwen blinks a couple of times, she finally understood the punker's weird attitude. Ever since the punker became friends with Miles, he became a positive person. A punker always talking about love being corporate, now writes love songs and thinks about romantic gestures like flowers or box of chocolates. She had to admit she's jealous.

Doesn't he like her after letting her stay at his place for a year? After all they been through together. They had so much in common! It wasn't long till the concert ended, leading to the afterparty in another abandon warehouse.

Pavitr and Miles walk together entering the abandoned warehouse seeing many people already there enjoying the party. It seems like having a party like this is against the law in the city. Pavitr finally asked Miles, "So, you haven't met anyone you like?"

"I... um... Not really- Well," He tries to find the right words, he didn't want to say he likes Hobie. Pavitr got a big mouth always being a yapper, he might tell Hobie before Miles could. "Not sure, man. I kinda been focusing on myself."

"What about you and Gwen? You guys had chemistry and it all disappeared!" Pavitr pouted as the two went to get some beer from a self made bar. The female bartender handed them beers with no questions.

"I... I see her as a friend and she does, too. Besides, it took me a while to forgive her and that help me get over her romantically." He tries to explain to his friend. "Besides, I think she has a crush on someone else, too."

Pavitr took a sip of his beer, "You think?"

"Yeah, I know she saw me as a friend from the beginning. I can accept that." Miles said, "It is what it is. I got over her, too."

"Awe, I was hoping for you two to forgive and be a cute couple. I was so excited for double dates!" His friend pouted.

"I mean... it's fine that we're friends." Miles knew him and Gwen will never be anything more than friends, he's fine with that. Honestly, he quickly got over her when the whole Spider Society was after him and she tried to show the good parts of it. Fuck that! Sometimes he stills feels like he's being hunted by the Spider-heroes from Spider Society, he can't trust them all just yet. He needs to wait till they won his trust.

"Awe, well at least you guys are friends. I'm glad you were able to be friends with Hobie."

"Yeah, he's a cool guy, huh? I didn't expect him to be so chill." Miles tries to hide his wide smile through a sip of his beer can. Pavitr noticed but remained silent.

"He is fun to be around. I never had a boring time with him." The Indian teenager hums. "I wonder, if he's dating anyone. He's very active in the dating scene."

"Oh yeah?" Miles arched his eyebrow, "I kinda figured he got experience, but you know, he's always mysterious like that."

"Really? He always tells me and Gwen so many stories!" Pavitr blinks at Miles' comment, "Dude, he goes on and on about who he got laid with. Look, you see that group over there, he slept with all of them."

"What? For real?" Miles turns to the massive group of bunkers having drinks and talking among themselves.

"And he slept with her, him, him, her, had a threesome with them- oh sleep with that other group, and that other group over there," Pavitr went on and on, "He probably has a very very high body count, Mi! I'm surprised he hasn't told you about this."

"I guess, he's trying to not make me feel bad since I'm the only virgin in the group." Miles awkwardly rub his neck feeling a bit upset his crush hasn't talk to him about his personal life. He thought he was close enough to know his stories, and he can admit he'll probably get jealous about it. Miles always gets over his jealousy to overlook the bigger picture, he likes hearing Hobie's stories. Something about the punker's way of telling stories always makes him happier.

"Oh you're right! You're the only virgin baby in our group. Awe, how cute!" Pavitr seems to patronize him by the way he keeps talking about Miles being the virgin one. "When me and my beloved Gayarti first made love it was special! You should never rush your first time, Mi! You have to make it special, perfect- it's way better than sleeping with a random person just to get it over with. I think that's what Gwen did."

"Mmm," Miles nodded at this. He remembers when he first heard about Gwen losing her virginity with someone. Many Spider-heroes thought it was Hobie, which Miles didn't believe since Hobie always waved it off, and he believed him. Now, he's not so sure. The artistic teenager took his beer bottle to his mouth taking two small sips.

The two wander through the party trying to find their friends. Miles listens to Pavitr telling about his love life, yet the Black latino had his mind about Hobie. Why didn't Hobie tell him about his life, he thought they gotten so close! Maybe his crush was playing around with him or try to protect him. He hates being coddle like a damn kid. Also, should he get mad about this? His crush doesn't have to tell him everything but...

That's the thing Hobie seems to separate himself from Miles than his other friends. Miles bites his bottom lip still feeling upset with his friend, maybe it's always been this way. Keep him from the dark until something blows up. It kinda hurts to even think about if Hobie wasn't being totally honest with him.

"Hey, guys. How your liking the party?" Riri a close friend of Hobie had two beer bottles seem like she was getting them for herself and someone else. She spotted Hobie's friends in the crowd.

"Hey Riri! what's up!" Pavitr happily said beaming at the drummer.

"Hey, Ri." Miles said.

"So ya'll lookin' for Hobie or having fun around here?" She asked.

"Just hanging around. We'll probably look for Hobie later." Pavitr said.

Miles agreed, "Yeah, he probably wants to be with his own group besides, we're checking out the party."

"Ha, yeah. Pretty fun when you see some dickwads head banging and fighting with each other." Riri chuckles, "You might wanna be careful where you get your drinks from. Some asshole might drug ya so be careful."

"We'll be fine! Besides, I always make sure I know where I get my drinks." Pavitr happily said. "Besides we got Hobie to protect us. He'll beat the crap on whoever mess with us."

"You got one part, right. Hobie is always there for all of us, even the ones that think they're worthless." Riri said with a soften stare from those beautiful deep brown eyes.

"Yeah, Hobie is always there when you need someone." Miles agreed. "He always knows how to make you smile, or make you feel important in a way."

"Yeah, he does. Doesn't he?" Riri smirks at Miles, who's avoiding eye contact with a flustered look. She purposefully got in his face and giggles, "You like him, huh?"

Pavitr gasps being in shock, "NO WAY!"

"No! No-no! We are just friends, I swear." Miles waves his hands in defense, "Me and him would never happen. Hahaha, you know, we're just me being a friend, who admires him. I'm just trying to explain what we all felt."

"Hmm," Riri didn't buy it, she always thought Miles is a cute guy... perfect for someone like Hobie- Hell, maybe he's enough to tamed the punker and his outrageous lifestyle. "Okay." She giggles with a playful nudge, "I'm only teasing you. Pav relax."

"Awe, man. You don't understand, Ri. I love gossip!" Pavitr whines.

Miles merely gave him an eye roll, Riri understood why Miles would keep his crush a secret. Pavitr is always been the extrovert out beside Hobie. "Well, I'm going to be with my girl. You guys have fun and be safe, kay?"

"Will do. It was nice seeing you, Ri." Miles said.

"Okay, will do." Pavitr wave her goodbye. His bright personality burns through his punker look having some punkers squinting their eyes by his bright personality.

Miles chuckles as the two keep walking around the party. "So, you think Gwen is with Hobie. I wonder if they are gettin shitfaced."

"Do you think Gwen and Hobie got a thing together?" Miles finally asked.

"Huh, what gave that away?" Pavitr asked being curious.

"It's just... I dunno, seems like they make a... good couple?" Miles weakly tries to play off the attention from him. He didn't want Pavitr to know his crush on the punker.

"Hahaha, that's funny. I highly doubt it. Hobs always prefer his lovers being a bit more... umm... not white, heh..." Pavitr scratch his head, "i mean I don't think he views Gwen like that. They been through a lot but not romantically. Then again... hmmm, never thought about it. I know a lot of people think they had a thing for each other."

"Oh, wow. I kinda figured." Miles felt a twinge of jealousy. When will it be his turn to be wanted? Will it better for him to stay in his own lane?

"Oh! Look they're having a drinking contest, let's watch." His friend took his hand having to watch.

Meanwhile, Hobie and his band having to chat with Gwen being expressive on today's concert. "Wow, today rocked! It was fucking amazing!" Gwen said happily.

"Haha, yeah, that fucking crowd ate us up!" Karl laughs out loud.

The group were talking about how Hobie crowd surfer with his fans, or how he smashed one of the guitars. Or how Karl through beer on his head while playing his bass. It's one of the best performances they done. Rick, Karl's boyfriend snake his arm around his boyfriend's waist and laughs, "You guys went fucking crazy."

"Crazy good or crazy bad?" Karl smirks at his boyfriend.

"A bit of both." Rick snickers before kissing his boyfriend, the two started to make out making things awkward for Gwen. The blond teenager still blushes seeing the two making out. Hobie merely chuckles not being phased by his best friend's make out with his partner, he merely took a beer bottle to chug.

Then, Riri came walking in with her girlfriend having their arm side by side. They hold their own beer bottles having a laugh, "Ugh, get a room you two wankers."

"Fuck you." Rick scowls at Riri, "You tongue kiss your girl all the damn time."

"Pfft, yeah. You two are fucking eating each other in front of blondie." Riri rolled her eyes at him while her girlfriend giggling at the two. "Anyway..." She turns her head to Hobie, "Oi, superstar. Your friends, Miles and Pavitr was it... they're wandering around the party. I think Mi can handle himself but that smiley fellow looks like he's gonna get punched in the face by the way he's always get ya face."

"He's not that bad, luv." Her girlfriend hums, "Just too happy like he doesn't know personal space."

"Pav is fine. He knows how to handle the crowd... I'm more worried about Miles." Gwen sat down having to admit, "He never seems to get use to the crowds."

"Ehh, he seems fine. Actually, he looks like he fits in our crowd." Riri disagreed, "Shy yeah, but he seems to be good at blending in."

"Who?" Rick asked.

"Miles, you met him. He's about this tall, an artist, and he got big eyes that reminds you of a doe." Karl explained to his partner. "Cute guy."

"Hey, should I be worried? Sounds like you got a crush on him." Rick grunts.

Riri burst out laughing. "Nah!" Karl snorted.

Hobie give Karl a look then a snort, "Ey, chill. Rick is gonna whack you."

"Nah, it's not like that, bae." Karl said to his boyfriend seeing how jealous he got.

Gwen merely gave a weak chuckle as the gang horse around and teased with crazy jokes. Hobie's group always cursed without caring about what others think or talked about a lot of out of pocket subjects. Just then Pavitr came in the back rooms seeing the band chilling around, "Whoa, I found you guys!"

"Um... Pav, where's Miles?" Gwen finally asked.

"Oi, aren't you two supposed to do the buddy system?" Hobie asked being concerned.

"Nah, he's fine. I accidentally bump into a guy tagging in one of the walls and kinda messed up his work. Then, Miles came and help him fix it up. A whole crowd watching they make some cool art piece." Pavitr explained. "Besides, Mi actually fitting in."

"He is?" Hobie and Gwen asked being surprised. Hobie had the same thoughts as Gwen about Miles being introvert or afraid of being in crowds. He always thought he was shy for those kinds of things. Maybe he protect him too much.

"Yeah, he had like a bunch of peeps asking him questions and he been talking to the artist too." Pavitr sat down on a couch, "Man, I'm tired. This party is so much fun. We got to see a mosh pit, fights- OH and some guy getting a wicked piercing on his eyelid!"

"That's totally sounds dangerous..." Gwen said with her eyebrow arched.

"I know, right!" He asked, "So what you guys been doing in here? The party is out there!"

"We're relaxing, man. I got so exhausted from the concert." Karl admits.

"Sounds like an old man, K." Riri laughs, "Careful with that one, Rick. Seems like his knees will give out soon."

"Shut up, Ri." Karl grunts.

Hobie said, "A little break is good after a big performance." His heavy dirty boots on a random empty box.

Riri nodded, "For real."

Gwen said, "I'm actually more hyper than ever."

"It's the adrenaline, Gwendy. You feel alive being out there letting the spotlight hit ya and the crowd looking at ya begging for more." Hobie spoke, "It's extraordinary!"

"And you guys were so good. Me and Miles were cheering ya on! I almost lost my voice." Pavitr admits, "I thought it was so cool to see you crowd suffering and Gwen, your singing was amazing!"

"Awe, thanks, Pav." Gwen let out a bashful smile. "Means a lot."

Hobie said, "And what about me, huh? I did good to, huh?"

"Of course, you did great as always, Hobs. But with you two singing together, it's really good. Perfect harmony or in sync so well."

"Right, they actually work well when they sing together, huh?" Karl asked.

Gwen blushes into a harsh red tainting her pale cream skin-tone, that's a good sign. They can be a couple, right? Hobie on the other hand scoffs it, "We're always in tune and great at singing with anyone."

"Wel-well, I thought our voices matches up so perfectly." Gwen casually said.

Rick went to the doorway to hear the loud commotion, "Oi, looks like the artists made a wicked mural! I'ma check it out. Karl, you comin'?" He turns his head to smirk at his boyfriend.

"Sure thing, bae." Karl happily went to his boyfriend.

"Oh, we should check it out." Riri's girlfriend and Gwen, "I bet it's awesome as you guys say." The rest of the band members went to see the artists working.

Before Riri could leave she turns her head at Hobie and teased, "Don't you want to check out your boyfriend's mural, Romeo?"

Hobie gave a bashful chuckles, his body turning slightly pink by the joke, "Ha, me and Sunflower? We're just friends."

Riri rolled her eyes before going to the main party. Pavitr laughs with agreement, "Yeah, him and Miles? Ain't no way that's happening."

Hobie's mood quickly changed almost being surprised at his friend's comment. "What do you mean, bruv?" Sounding offended as if he wasn't good enough for Miles.

Gwen stood to check on the party seeing a crowd of people looking at the mural. Then hear at Hobie's voice sounding a bit crack with a slight nervous, "You sayin' he's too guud for me?"

"No! NO! I didn't mean it that way. It's just you said it yourself, you two are friends." Pavitr wave his hands in defense, he quickly added, "Even Miles agreed. He told me that you two are just friends, in fact he thought you and Gwen are thing!"

"Really?" Gwen asked being in shock, her eyes gleamed with joy that Miles didn't see himself with Hobie. This can be her chance to ask Hobie out. Then she tries to act normal, "Oh yeah?" Her voice sounded more laid back.

Hobie on the other hand, was hurt by the bit of gossip. "So, Sunflower say we're nothing more than friends?"

"Yeah! He made it very clear about you guys are friends. He said something about admiring you and that's it." Pavitr scratch his head with a nervous laugh, "Geez, I didn't think it would offend you."

"Tsk," The slim punker merely sucked in his teeth, "Nah, it's good." He switched out his moody attitude to his laid back self. "Sunflower says we're friends then we're friends." He took his beer to chug the rest down trying to get a good buzzed, even though he's still sober. It takes way more alcohol for him to feel tipsy.

Gwen clears her throat seeing this her chance to be alone with Hobie. "Pav, can you- can you go and get us some beer for us, please?"

"Sure! I'll leave you two alone." He got up knowing his friend had a crush on the punker and wants alone time to be with him. "Here I go. Getting two beers- might take awhile to check out Miles' mural." Slowly making his way out of the room to the party, the Indian teenager giggles at the new tea.

The two in the worn down room, Hobie sitting on an old teared couch while Gwen stood. The blond clears her throat having to swiftly move her legs to sit next to Hobie. The punker had lit himself a joint being a bit upset with the new information from Pavitr. Does Miles only view him a friend? Heartache hit him like a truck, he always takes rejection well, but this time- For the first time, he actually likes someone, they shot him down.

Ugh, he needs a drink. He rather stay in the room instead of facing his Sunflower- or should he call him, Miles? Then, his nose tickled of cheap perfume and sweat. Gwen always had a soft floral scent with a bit of musk.

Gwen nervously sat a few inches away from the punker, slowly sliding over trying to make her way. Her face red with bullet sweats, she never had a crush before so confronting Hobie is all new to her. She's scared... nervous! Possibly scared of rejection. "So..." She began speaking without thinking about rejections, she needed to let it out. Heart pounding against her chest, her palms sweaty, breathing shakes being so damn anxious. "Ahem, umm..." She added, "a lot of our friends think we're a thing, huh?"

Her thighs touched against the punker's right thin thigh. Hobie noticed this, normally he would quickly avoid this conversation all together. But right now, he's a heartbroken teenager unable to handle rejection, so he does what he knows best. Find himself a rebound.

And who is the perfect rebound to handle this? His blond Spider-friend, he hears Gwen talking, "And I always thought- Ha, us? *snorts laughs* We're friends! And-And the more everyone said and-and you and I been through so much." She's unaware of the punker leaning forward with his held tilt, his hands in his jean pockets. "And the more I got to know you and how amazing you are! I start-" Her sentence was caught off when she felt soft lips meeting hers.

Big blue eyes widen almost popping out like a cartoon, she saw Hobie kissing her. Kissing her! So he does like her! Her arms wrapped around his neck taken him into a deeper kiss.

The two make out without knowing Miles standing by the doorway with his eyes slightly widen, then he quickly left before being scene by the two.

Before Miles stumble upon his crush and Gwen making out, he finished the mural with a popular graffiti artists in the area. They made a mural of the people going against fascism with bright pops of color and vivid language. It's one of Miles' best works, he stood proud at it and the crowd around the two cheering them on for the awesome mural.

Hobie will love this!

A small voice pop in his head, then he hears a loud, "WHOA! Look at you, Miles!" He turns to find Hobie's bandmates with their partners and Pavitr cheering him on.

"Awe, thanks, guys." He smiles happily, then his eyes searching for Hobie and Gwen. "Where is Hobie and Gwen?"

"Oh, he's with Gwen, he's probably tired from the concert." Pavitr casually said, then he wiggle his eyebrows.

"Yeah, you should go get him and see this. He will fucking love it." Karl said to him.

"Okay. I'll go." He turns tot he artists, he helped, "I'll back just gonna grab my friend." The artist gave him a quick nod. Miles quickly went off to get his friends.

Now Miles went to the restroom with tags and broken two stales, and the smell of pissed and beer. He quickly went into one of the better stales to be alone. His heart dropped feeling an uneasy twist from seeing his crush kissing Gwen. His hand cover his mouth feeling warm tears coming down his cheeks.

Why can't he get a break for once? It wasn't fair. Did Hobie played him or was it him being kind friend with no interest? Miles never felt so stupid to think he can be with Hobie. "Calm the fuck down, Miles. He likes Gwen and Gwen likes him. No point in crying for a guy you never had a chance to begin with." He wipes his tears then sniffs, this was way worse than Miguel clawing his shoulder.

Hell, he rather handle a pissed off Miguel than deal with this heartbreak. Miles bites his bottom lip feeling so mad with himself to ever think he can get with Hobie. Seeing his old crush and new crush going at it like they were about to fuck, it made him almost-almost-

"BLARGH!" He threw up in the toilet being sick at the thought, he could taste the acidity of cheap beer.

Miles got out of the restroom feeling ill, heartbroken and stupid. When he came back to his friends, Pavitr asked him, "Where's Hobie and Gwen? I thought you were gonna get him and Gwen?"

"I... I don't feel well, man. I think the beer fucked me up. I threw up in the restroom." Miles admits.

"Oh no! Dude, you okay? You want me to go with you?" Pavitr touches his friend's face, "Whoa, you feel warm. What the hell was in that beer?"

"I dunno. I don't feel good." Then again, he never likes drinking, he's too lightweight. His heart aching for Hobie. "It's fine, man. I'll be fine going home."

"Okay," Pavitr hugs him, "Be safe, dude. Call me if you need me."

"Ha, thanks, man. Anyway have a good night." Miles decided to leave before Hobie could catch him. Rushing back home into his save heaven to be wrapped around in his favorite blanket and weep himself to sleep.

At the old worn out room, Hobie lays down on the couch while Gwen got on top of him. Their lips intwine and tongue playfully slip in and out of each other mouths. Hobie felt Gwen's tongue being caution, inexperienced with kissing. He knows his friend is new to all of this, so he took the lead. He could taste her fruity lip balm with a hint of beer.

When they pulled away, Gwen quickly say back up, "Oh shit! Um- Wow, you're a great kisser! It's just..." She shyly tuck a piece of her dye pink and blue hair behind her left ear, "I'm surprised you kissed me." Her bright blue eyes gleam at him, "You must like me?"

Hobie bites his bottom lip giving a lazy smirk, "Heh, that I do, Gwendy." He meant it at friends. This is one thing he's good at, he knows how to win anyone hearts. If he gets bored, he can always find a way to get out of any tangle webs of relationships.

This made Gwen's face turns bright red. "Wow... um... wow." She didn't expect that, she thought he would reject her. What happened? So with her awkward self, she quickly stood up and quickly said, "Ha! I wonder if everyone is still looking at Miles' mural."

Hobie frowns going back to his moody self, he wants Miles. He likes him so much, and hates this feeling. Damn, his whole mood went sour going back to Miles' words. This shows he wants to be more than just friends, he wants Miles' to say 'He's my boyfriend'. Never wanting to hear friends out that beautiful mouth, those plump lips that look so soft and tender.

"Hobie?"

"Hm?"

"Wanna go look at the mural..." Gwen shyly said, "Sorry, i'm not ready for... you know."

The punker quickly clears his throat, "It's fine, Gwendy. I'm in no hurry for it." He honestly wasn't sure if this was a mistake or not, it's better to take the chance to get over this mood. He walks out with her to the loud party.

When the two reached the group, Pavitr had to tell them about Miles getting sick and had to leave. Hobie attitude changed from gloomy to worry for the lad and asked, "Was he okay, Pav?"

"He said he was fine going home. I'm waiting for him to text back. I think he caught a stomach bug or something, he didn't look to good."

"Awe, man. Should we go check on him?" Gwen asked, "If it's a stomach flu, maybe it's better to wait."

Hobie was about to leave with no questions asked until, Pavitr's watch buzzed with a text message from Miles.

Miles: I'm safe at home. I need to get some rest and it's better if no one comes by.

Hobie stares at the text message, he's about to leave until Gwen took his arm around her's and said, "Hobs, we can look at the mural Miles' made. Maybe send him a picture to show we miss him." A slight red tint on her cheeks thinking they were being more than friends.

Pavitr's eyes carefully study Gwen's and Hobie's closeness, their arms link and spotted their lips swollen. Gwen's is more obvious with a slight bruised color, a bit plump to her slight pink lips. His eyes widen with a Ah-HA gasps, then he saw how his blond friend hides her red face trying to avoid Hobie's eye contact. Ohhh! He gotta tell Miles about the new tea, the new secret of the new couple. This is so exciting.

While the group took a photo, the party went on. Hobie was trying to leave, but everywhere he turns someone was there to make him stay at the party. Then he finally had the chance to look at the mural.

The painting was a group of Spider-punk with his fellow heroes taking down the government with the proud people behind them. His dark eyes gleam at the powerful piece, it moved him. His fist clenched tightly, then took a picture with his watch to send to Miles. All those sour feelings of rejection on him washed away, he could forgive him- hell, Miles could do whatever he wants with him and he will still be able to forgive him.

Hobie snap a picture while the party in the background, he send a text to his Sunflower.

Hobie: Wicked work, Brooklyn 🤘🏿 Get well soon.

Miles on the other hand came home sobbing in his bed, he threw up a couple of times feeling so heartbroken. When his mom walk in his bedroom hearing vomiting sounds, she quickly asked about the party he went. At first she thought someone drugged her son, but it looks more like he got sick from eating or drinking something. So like all Puerto Rican mothers do is making their children stay in bed, while she went to get some medicine from the medicine cabinet in the kitchen and some hot tea.

The teenager was sniffing himself hating how he got himself sick, and heartbroken over a crush that was never interested in him. Hobie never show signs to begin with. Miles send a quick message to his friend, he doesn't want to see anyone at the moment. When Pavitr send a photo of the three enjoying the party, honey-brown eyes darted at Gwen's arm linking against Hobie.

Biting his bottom lip, he held back his tears. "I'm such an idiot." He hide himself under the covers trying to sleep, then he hears a ding from his watch. His doe eyes stare at Hobie's message, which made him smile a bit. He wants to be held by the punker, kiss him, tell him how much he admires his confidence... if only Hobie felt the same way...

After the party, Miles decided to avoid his friends for a bit. He spend his focus being Spider-man in his world and his school work. His best friend, Ganke knows what happened which made things a bit better for the black Latino teenager. It wasn't long till he rant about Hobie and Gwen, being jealous while Ganke agrees and always had advice about the whole thing.

Miles would get text messages from Hobie, yet he ignores them or gives a simple thumbs up emoji. "Why does this suck, man? Why I have to like him! Gawd, I feel so stupid." Another groan came out of his mouth as he tossed himself back on his bed.

Ganke playing his videos games while the two spend time in their dorm. "Heartbreak be like that, man. You gotta choose if you wanna give up on him or stay."

"Ugh, it's just- why Gwen! I fucking swear the world hates me sometimes. I get fucking thrown aside while she gets everyone's love. Out of everyone she can like from it had to be Hobie?" Miles screams in his pillow, "It fucking sucks. I wanna move on, Ganke."

"What's stopping you? You think if you confess to Hobie, he'll change his mind. What happens if Gwen finds out you try to go behind her back and confess to him while they're dating? And how long they been dating? From that photo you share, they look like they been dating awhile, but I'm not too sure, man. Take my words for a grain of salt." Ganke said.

"I dunno! I... I'm mad and jealous... and I guess I fooled myself." Miles hugs his pillow being upset.

Ganke finally turns his head to face Miles, "You want my honest opinion, Mi?"

"Yeah, man. I always do."

"Talk to Hobie or Gwen. See what's up from there you can decide if you wanna stay in your feelings or not."

"What you would have done?"

"Me? If I saw the girl I like kissing another dude, psshhh." The Korean American shook his head while rubbing his neck, "Crash out. Fuck, I would probably play all of SZA's songs or listen to Drake. Then move on from there..."

Miles nodded at this, maybe it's better to move on instead of prying over Gwen and Hobie.

As for Hobie, the punker is pissed off by the lack of messages he's getting from Miles. Every message felt like he was trying to end it and end to a simple emoji. Maybe he's reading into the text message too much.

Not to mention, he couldn't see Miles since Gwen keeps coming by his place talking about random subjects. It seems like she's taken his chill silence as a welcome to be with him. She thinks they are in the amidst of dating. This sucks. If he denies her, he could tell she would caused problems way out of his control. He had seen Gwen at her lowest, she's willing to go the far edge. Maybe it's his dark mindset and this might be a terrible view on her, yet he can't risk rejecting her for Miles. Not now...

And there's Miles, he doesn't know where he lands with him. If Miles never liked him, then it should be fine with him dating Gwen, right? A little rebound won't be too bad.

While the punker stays in his own business and focusing on Miles, unaware of Gwen's doings. Pavitr and Gwen tends to hang out as often as they can, so in one of their smoothie hang outs.

"I saw you and Hobs really close lately. Are ya'll dating?" Pavitr asked the moment he had the chance to.

Gwen's face red as a tomato, she tucks her hair behind her ear while sipping her smoothie. "Okay, promise you won't tell anyone, yet!" The tone of her voice didn't care if Pavitr did spread it or not. She's so happy, she couldn't care who hears her. "Okay, so me and Hobie are kinda dating!"

"What! NO WAY!" He shouted out loud at the new tea, "So you guys are a thing? Tell me, everything!"

Gwen saw some Spider-heroes being nosy, some would get close to hear. She didn't care because she knew her and Hobie were becoming a real couple. "You guys made out in the party! No wonder you were being so shy! I bet you guys were tongue kissing!" Pavitr gasps, loving the new information.

"Hehehe, maybe. I don't kiss and tell." She giggles. "After the party, we started, you know hanging out more. He seems to really like me- normally, he goes to hang out with Miles."

"Yeah, so that means he likes you a lot. Wow, Hobie and Gwen! I dig it. I'm rooting for you two!" Then he giggles, "Oh man, I wonder how Miles will react. I bet he'll be super sad since he use to like you."

"Hah, I think he'll be happy for me. Me and him sort of know we weren't gonna be together like that. I sort of thought he likes Hobie until he made that comment about him being friends with Hobie." Gwen rubs her neck.

"Would you be fine if Hobie went for Miles?" Pavitr asked.

"I..." She sighs, "No... I know, I should be supportive, but I've been with friends Hobie longer. I know everything about him. The good, the bad, the ugly- I made him be Spiderman, again. Honestly, I would probably disappear if they got together, but now, it turns out he likes me. ME! He picked me!"

Pavitr smiles at her, "I'm so happy for you!" He hugs her with joy, "Now we can have double dates!"

It wasn't long till the rumors spread about Hobie and Gwen being together all around Spider Society. When Miles finally came to Earth 928 for a mission Miguel wanted him to be apart of, it was a graveyard shift. It's better for him, since he didn't have to see Hobie or Gwen.

"Morales, good work." Miguel said seeing the Spider-man coming out of the portal completing the mission.

"Thanks, um... sir?" Miles still felt awkward around the large Spider-man, the two tends to give small comments from time to time.

Miguel wearing his mask gives a small nod then look at his fellow Spider-man, "You still want graveyard shifts?"

"Yeah..."

"What about school? You need your sleep, no?"

"I'm fine. I manage." He said with his hand rubbing his arm, "Is there a problem?"

"No... it's fine." Spider-man 2099 didn't pry on him. "I'll send you your schedule when I finished up. Enjoy the rest of your night, Morales."

"Um, thanks. You're being really nice than usual." Miles admits. "Did something happen?"

Miguel shrugs, "It's not my place to say, but I advise you to listen to the latest gossip around, Morales." He knew Miles had a massive crush on the punker, he knows the look. It's not hard to miss, yet everyone doesn't know.

"Oh... okay? Um, have a goodnight, Migs." Miles awkwardly said before leaving out of his office. The teenager wanted to buy some food before going back home, stomach growling for a cheesy extra pepperoni pizza and cold soda. When he went to an empty cafeteria, normally pack with Spider-heroes during the day.

Once graveyard shift starts, it's always a few of Spider-heroes in the cafeteria. So the lines are so short, and there's always seating. When he got himself a slice of pizza and soda, he heard a loud, "HEY MILES!" Turning around to find Peter wearing his Spider-man suit without that ugly dirty pink bathrobe.

"Oh hey, Peter." Miles smiles at his old mentor. "What's up? I'm surprised you're here."

"Hah, well... mornings I gotta watch my kid while my wife goes to work. It's easy this way." Peter explains, "And with MJ pregnant, it's easier this way."

"She's pregnant?"

"Yeah, I didn't tell you?"

"Well, we haven't see each other in a while." Miles pointed out.

Peter gave Miles space after the whole incident, slowly he's gaining Miles trust. It's been a slow process, but it's enough to talk to him again. "Yeah, she's pregnant. We think it's a boy! Hopefully, I'll be ready. Mayday is excited to be an older sister, so having late night snack?" He walks along with his former pupil.

"I need to eat before I get back home, I have to study for finals. I can't believe Junior year is done and I'll be a senior in the fall."

"Ha, time flies when you're always busy. Trust me, it'll be faster when you get to my age." He sat next to the teenager, they were having conversations about their day.

Miles brought up about his ideas for a mural in one location in Brooklyn. "Hey, that'll be great. You can invite all your friends to see it. Though, I won't be surprised if Gwen and Hobs would be focus since they're busy swapping mouths. Young love, you know."

"What?" Miles paused from bitting into his pizza.

"Haven't you heard," Peter arched his eyebrows, "Hobs and Gwen are dating now. Everyone is talking about it."

"No, I haven't..." Miles frowns then angrily bites into his pizza. Whatever. "I'm happy for them." He didn't see the point of fighting for someone that's taken. Looks like he has to move on.

It didn't take long for Hobie to hear the rumors as well, in fact it pissed him off. "What's going on, Gwendy? Why are people saying we're a thing?"

"Um.. well, I guess Pav decided to tell people about me and you kissing." She gave an embarrassing smile.

"You told him about that?" He asked a bit surprised.

"Yeah, I mean why not?" Gwen arched her eyebrows, "We're a thing now. You haven't- Hobie, where are you going? Hobie!" She saw him quickly walking off.

Hobie quickly wanted to see Miles, he needs to explain everything to him. His Sunflower will understand him. Once everything is explained- He stops when he saw Miles talking to Peni and Margo.

Hobie saw Miles went on, "I think if we had more charge into the suit using-" A hand places on the dark skinned male teenager's shoulder, he stops when he saw the punker.

Wow, it's been a month of them avoiding each other, now he finally had the chance to see him. Hobie is handsome with his fine jawline and those dark round eyes. "Hobie?" Miles asked being confused.

"Can we talk?"

"Um... sure. Sorry, guys. Um... need to take this." Miles been meaning to talk to the punker.

Margo nodded, "Sure thing. Me and Peni will be in the courtyard getting some coffee."

"Yeah, Mi." Peni agreed.

Hobie took Miles to a private open area to talk, there was barely Spider-heroes around. "Ahem," Hobie began, "Sunflower... been a while."

"Oh yeah, it has. Sorry, about that," Miles awkwardly avoided the punker's eyes, "I was busy with school, and when I got sick suck."

"Yeah, choice on that, bruv." The punker nervously felt his palms sweating. Seeing Miles with those big honey-brown eyes filled with joy and that bright smile, his whole body melts. "Look, I get it if you were busy... enough to not see me."

Miles nodded, "Sorry about that." There was awkward silence, he rub his left arm. Might as well ripped the band-aid off.

"Hobie listen..."

"Sunflower listen..." The two blink at each other as they spoke at the same time.

"No, you go first!" They did it again. "No, you go!" This made them chuckle enjoying themselves so much. This is how it should be when a person is in love, it works.

"Heh," Hobie misses Miles, "you go Sunflower."

Miles misses Hobie, his heart beats hard. Then he finally sync his Spider senses with the punker, been so long since he done it. It felt like tickles... almost kisses when they do it. Hobie allow this being happy to share his Spider senses with his Sunflower. They stare into each other eyes until Miles snap out of it.

"Hobie, I know about you and Gwen." He finally said it.

"Wait, Sunflower. I need-" Miles places a hand on the punker's mouth, "Hobie, it's okay. I don't understand why you didn't tell me you had feelings for her, but it's fine. Maybe you were embarrassed." He held his friend's hand, "I just want to say, I'm happy for you and Gwen. Everyone expected you two together. I'm happy my friend is dating someone he likes."

Hobie blinks a couple of times, "Friend?"

"Yeah, man. You're a great friend, and I want to be there for you and Gwen. I'm rooting for you guys." Miles forced a wide smile hiding the heart ache he carries in him, he wanted Hobie. Hurting Gwen in the process won't fix anything, their friendship will cause so much drama if he did confess now.

"Hah, right... friends, luv." Hobie sadly said. "So your fine with me and Gwendy, huh?"

"Yeah, I am." There was silence like an awful dread, it felt like they were grieving for the moment.

"So..." Miles trails off, "What did you wanna say to me?"

"I just wanted to say..." Hobie sighs, he faced his rejection, "I'm dating Gwendy...." Miles' eyes filled with sorrow finally hearing those words from the punker. It hurts.

After that day, it seems the two slowly drifted off. Hobie focus on his relationship with Gwen, even though he yearns for Miles. He tries to find any reason to break up with Gwen, but the blond always remain loyal to him. The more he pushed her away, she comes in with so much power finding every reason to stay with him. It was mildly exhausting.

Seeing Miles being supportive with Pavitr and everyone else, there was no chance of ever being with his Sunflower. So he remains Gwen's boyfriend. He achingly watches Miles being in his first relationship, a woman name Rebecca. Needless to say Hobie was very jealous seeing this girl being Miles' first at everything; first kiss, first love, first relationship- everything he wanted to be. It sucked to watch, he became moody, most distant with everyone. To put frank, he was depressed!

Then when Miles and Rebecca broke up, he went to Margo. Margo was the next love that Hobie was forced to watch them be together. They worked so well- if anything, Margo made the perfect female companion for his Sunflower. They always worked so well being in sync. Hobie wanted to puke.

After three years of dating Margo, the two decided to break up. It wasn't a messy break the two wanted to pursuit other parts of their lives, their careers had been their main focus. Miles dated on the side being completely secretive. This was fine for the punker, he didn't want to know random people kissing his Sunflower. It was bad enough for him to face Miles kissing Margo. So it been this way for a while. Hobie had no choice but to stay with Gwen.

The last time he try to break up with her... let say she broke down into a massive panic attack. "I can't live without you, Hobie!" Were her favorite words when things turned sour, and for the punker, he didn't want to be alone. He got too comfortable being with Gwen. Still it wasn't Miles' company. God, he loves every moment being with Miles. He wished he could take everything back, if he could go back in time to confess to him, he would.

Now here he is facing the massive punch in the face. Miles is twenty eight years old. telling everyone he and Miguel are a couple. Or they been a couple but in secret for two years! It felt like he got punched in the gut, his whole body froze in complete shock.

When he saw Miguel stroke Miles' cheek then give him a kiss in front of everyone. The two look so happy and hearing people clapping for them. Margo happily claps for them, "Wow, you two a thing? I'm digging it."

"Yeah, enemies to lovers! A perfect love story!" Pavitr squeals in joy, "Tell us, how this happened?"

"You know, Miggy... I never knew you were into dating someone young?" Peter jokes the older Spider-man.

"He's only thirty seven, and I'm almost in my thirties." Miles snorted, he held Miguel's hand with a chuckle.

"Who cares? I've seen people dating twice Miguel's age." Peni rolled her eyes. "Besides, give us the tea. How did this happen?"

"Well... me and Miguel happen to meet up on a blind date." Miles admits.

Miguel nodded, "We seem to have more in common than we thought," His hand caresses Miles' hand being close to him, "we met for coffee. Then, we just..."

"Click." Miles finishing his partner's sentences with a slight chuckle.

"Heh, real cheesy, Morales."

"You like cheesy, mi Viejo." Miles teased his boyfriend.

"Hahaha, you call my dad old." Gabriella giggles being a teenager.

Mayday laughs along with her friend, "Just like my dad."

Hobie didn't like this. It all seems to happy for his taste, he wanted them to end their relationship. He got to get out of here. The punker rushes out in the balcony of Miguel's to chug the rest of his wine.

He looks at the Crescent moon with the surreal colorful night fall much different from his world. Unaware of Miles walking outside holding two wine glasses, "Wow, I didn't expect you to be out here. What happened to Hobie Brown causing mayhem at parties, being a wild animal, man?" Miles chuckles.

"Hah, let say I was busy today and completely drained." Hobie wore a thick black trench coat to hide his gloomy punker outfit underneath. His eyes saw Miles wearing a simple white blouse and tight black pants with loafers. His hair having a coily curls.

"Oh yeah, trouble in paradise?" Miles asked while handing him a glass of wine. "I saw you and Gwen looking upset when coming to the party."

"Yeah, we were talking about... stuff..." Hobie chugs the second glass of wine, then finally sighs, "She wants kids, Miles. I dunno what to do..."

"Do you want kids?"

"No. I never did. I've told her so many fucking times," He rub his face from exhaustion, "and just this morning she told me, she's pregnant."

"Oh wow, man." Miles blinks in shock, "No wonder she didn't drink."

"Yeah, I-" Hobie stop himself, "Never mind me, Sunflower. What about you? You and the bloke? How could you do this to me?"

"Hm?"

"You didn't like him from the beginning. You forgave all the shit he done. We made an agreement... all those nights I visit to listen to your traumas, the nights I stayed...we-" Hobie sighs unable to finished his thought.

"I dunno. I just did. Sorry, Hobie. This is why I kept a secret from everyone. I know, this would hurt you, but I'm okay, Hobie. Miguel is a good guy, and he shows me this side of him." Miles rest his chin on his hand, "Besides, having Gabi around made things so much easier. I grew on liking his moody grumpy side, hell I find it kinda hot when he gets pissed off."

"Uck, don't make me barf, Sunflower."

"Hah, sorry. I really like him, Hobie. Hopefully, you can give him a chance and accept us." He sips his wine.

"I dunno..." Hobie sighs, "The bloke is a tyrant."

Miles laughs, "He can be."

The two watched the sky in silence, then Miles finally said, "I know, you'll be an amazing dad. But whatever happens with you and Gwen and this pregnancy... hope it all goes well. I'm surprised you stayed with her for so long, it's sweet."

"Well, it's hard to leave when everyone is rooting for us."

"Hah, it's what expected from a fanbase ship." Miles sips his wine then he sighs, "You know, to be honest... when we were teenagers, I actually like you."

Hobie drops his empty glass being in shock, "What?"

"Dude, are you good?" Miles saw the shattered cup, "Let me-" Hobie quickly cut him off, "Sunflower, you liked me?"

"Well... yeah."

"Wa-Wait, how-how long? Since when?" Hobie felt faint, his heart dropped, his body lay against the rails. He felt dizzy.

"Hobie relax. I know it's hard to believe that an awkward teen like me would like you. Geez, you're making me feel bad." Miles placed his glass on a small table looking worried, "Dude, you okay?"

"No, I'm not, Sunflower. Please tell me... I..." Hobie bites his bottom lip.

"OKay? Um... I started having a crush on you since you came by to visit me. I wanted to tell you, but..." Miles shrugs, "At that party at the old warehouse, I caught you and Gwen making out and I had to make a choice to move on."

"You saw that?"

"Yeah, I wasn't sick from the stomach flu- I was actually heartbroken. heh, silly when you think about it, huh?" Miles explained, "I support you and Gwen seeing how you like her-"-"SUNFLOWER!" Hobie finally cut him off, "Your not lying to me? You liked me ever since?"

"Well, you were my first crush, Hobie... but I wasn't sure if you like me back then, all these mix singles and I suck at knowing the signs." Miles said feeling Hobie's hand gripping his arms, "Dude, chill."

"Miles..." Hobie gritted his teeth being angry with himself, "I liked you too. I had a massive crush on you two."

Miles's big doe-like eyes widen like they were about to pop out, "What?"

"I wanted to be with you so bad, but... at the party Pav told the group that you saw me only as a friend. I was hurt because I thought you meant it, so I kissed Gwendy to get over it... I-if only I spoke to you..."

"Hobie..." Miles stroke his friend's face seeing those dark eyes filled with sorrow, "You liked me?"

"I did... when you told me you were happy for me and Gwen. I just stick with her because I didn't want to be alone dealing whatever this was... rejection? Heartbreak? It fucking sucks, Sunflower."

"I only said that because everyone told me, you and her were dating. You guys were dating right?" The young man blinks in shock.

"No! Gwen was spreading that because I gave her mix singles and she just took it." Hobie sighs finally letting go. "Fuck. I can't believe this."

"Yeah... wow, we suck so bad at this." Miles finally let out a chuckle, "It's kinda funny."

"Funny? Sunflower, you think this is funny?" Hobie asked being serious.

"Well, yeah. This happened eleven years ago!" He waves it off, "You moved on. I moved on. What can we do? You're seriously not thinking about breaking up with Gwen, who's carrying your kid? And what I break up with Miguel? The man I love, and finally came out being with him?" His eyes stares at the punker like he grow a second head, "To break Gabi's promise for being with her dad. Hobie, tell me you're not thinking we should be together. I'm not taking that chance for a crush that happens a decade ago!"

Hobie rubs his neck facing Miles away, his eyes closed taking a moment to breathe. His Sunflower is right, he's going to be a dad and can't do this to Gwen. "Sunflower..." He finally face Miles, which got his beautiful Sunflower to finally see him cry, "I love you. I love you, so much. I'm happy if you're happy with him."

"Hobie," Miles took out a napkin from his pocket to wipe the punker's tears, "damn... if only- talk about wrong place and time. I always did love you, Hobie from afar. I'm happy for you and Gwen."

Hobie said, "We're never gonna be together, huh?"

"As far as I know..." Miles sadly said, "Look at us, talking about this- how come we never had the time to talk about it?"

"We always avoided each other." Hobie admits, "Sunflower, I'll be fine with all of this. Now that I know you liked me, and we fucked up... this is enough." He presses his forehead, "I always loved seeing your eyes, and that beautiful smile."

Miles' eyes gleams, "Hobie..."

"Shh... this is enough for me." The punker pressed his forehead against Miles, "If Miguel ever hurt you, I will fuck him up, okay?"

Miles giggles, "Okay, this is enough for me, too. I really do hope you and Gwen work out."

"For you, I will be the best pops for my sporg."

"Heh, Sporg?"

"Slang for kids, luv."

"It sounds gross." Miles chuckles.

Then, the door slide behind them revealing Gabriella, "Miles, you gotta come. Papa is waiting for you so we can cut my birthday cake." She happily held his hand dragging him out.

"Okay! Hobie, you should come see the cake." Miles smiles happily.

"I will. I need a few minutes." Hobie gave him a sincere smile.

The two departed feeling heartache for the final time. As the party went on, Hobie went to stand by Gwen's side. Miles stood with Miguel and Gabriella as they celebrate the teenager's birthday.

They went back to their normal lives filled with their own mundane tasks. Hobie had a daughter with Gwen being a father to his child. Miles married Miguel being a stepfather to Gabriella. Every now and then Miles meet Hobie in Spider Society with a simple conversation, they never went further than that.

Hobie had thoughts of 'What if?', he wished he taken a chance. However, he's fine with everything seeing how happy his Sunflower is living his new life and fatherhood ain't too bad.

"Awe, she's so cute." Miles smiles at Hobie's daughter seeing her dark skinned tone with blond hair.

The little girl huff and puff not liking Miles, "Ma-mama!" She cries.

"Oi, Birdie... what's wrong?" Hobie calms her down.

"Awe, she misses her mom. Funny how you guys name her Gertrude..." Miles snickers.

"Ha, it's Gwendy's grandmother's name." Hobie comes his daughter down, "Shh. It's okay, luv."

Miles smiles at Hobie, "See, you're a great dad."

"Ha, thanks, Sunflower." The punker smiles at him as the two had their regular hang outs. This is as good as it gets and he's fine with that. They both fine with it.

[akai-anna]

Now for my dear DCMK exchange gift giver. I come with some fic recs and a couple of headcanons for our favourite certified lil guy.

A selection of personal fic recs of the platonic/familial/friendship kind (sprinkled with a bit of romance too). Please note that all these fics come back to one thing: Shinichi/Conan is involved, as he tends to be my main focus (also I'm a huge Found Family trope lover, as you might be able to tell from some of these recs). I also decided to forgo my soulmate AU recs, since it seems you likely know those! (Though, if you'd ever like more fic recs... just let me know. And I hope you'll find one or two on this list that you haven't yet read and you'll like!)

warm soup on a frigid night: Detective Boys centric, my heart melted gosh.

Once and For All: another Detective Boys centric fic, I'M SCREAMING thEY ARE SO PRECIOUS.

A Friend In Need: Kaitou KID centric, really love how organic this fic is, both from KID's and Shinichi's POV.

You Have an Hour: Sonoko's POV and an extremely funny and relatable fic.

You're okay, you're safe: oh, my beloved Sakura Trio, also from Sonoko's POV which I adore, and Sonoko's feelings in this... I feel her.

Switched: KID centric, FREAKING BODY SWAP, and so well written too, very fun read.

Guide you home: I love the Guide/Sentinel universe so much, this has romantic KaiAo, Heizuha, ShinRan, and lots of other platonic combinations, this is also a case fic and emotional.

Identity: One of my favourite scenarios, OCCHAN AND RAN BEING AWARE FROM THE BEGINNING, MY HEART-

Code Red: KOGOROU CENTRIC, let him shine!

The Cloning Secret: do you want to read something absolutely heart-wrenching, disturbing, yet absolutely brilliant? Go no further. We warned: this is a work in progress.

Misconceptions, Illusions, and Lies (and Other Forms of Fair Play): I absolutely adore this fic, the idea of Ran and KID working together, also bonus points for different POVs, also a work in progress.

Shenanigans in Beika: one of my ultimate favourite fic series, off all time, the interactions in this are just way too charming and precious and dear. Also a work in progress.

until the flowers bloom again: same author (yes, one of my favourite authors, sue me) as Shenanigans in Beika, involves the Detective Boys and ShinRan, and my heart just... gosh, this fic is so precious.

Hidden Epidemic: I love the first part the most, but this as a whole has a lot of headcanons incorporated into it that I love to bits. Lots of POV changes, and so many characters (Detective Boys, Heiji, Kazuha, KID, Ran and so on)

pet: super short, but also SUPER CUTE, absolutely in love with the idea of Ai having a cat. (one of my favourite authors for the fandom)

(the space between) where you smile and hide: one of the very few and precious Kazuha POV fics, especially her thinking about Shinichi. (also one of my favourite authors, and if you like one Hattori Heiji, I highly rec holly's other fics too)

Observations: my ultimate favourite fic involving Takagi Wataru, part of it is from his POV too, and it has so many great things about it. (VERMOUTH!!! Also Heiji and Satou working together! And most importantly: Takagi finally getting an answer to his Question.)

All Night Gang: I ADORE THIS FIC SO SO SO MUCH, THE FACT THAT KAZUHA AND RAN GET TO FINALLY KNOW. Also the adorable chatting in the first part. All the different POVs later on. And all the FEELINGS AND HEADCANONS AND THE THING THIS FIXES ABOUT CANON FOR ME. I'M so grateful for the existence of this fic.

Nothing To Lose: Detective Boys, PRECIOUS CHILDREN, they just miss their friend, this fic made me so emotional, dammit. SHINICHI YOU FCKIN IDIOT-

Family of the heart: God. This fic. THIS FIC. I LOVE PARENTAL MOURI KOGOROU WITH A PASSION.

never were and not anymore: this series? Damn. The shapeshifter concept in it is MARVELOUS AND MASTERFUL. The way it got merged into the universe, and how it changed events. Also THE RELATIONSHIPS IN THIS KILL ME in the best way.

Scion: I absolutely adore this author, and this is one of my ultimate favourite fics involving Shinichi and KID. The supernatural element is so exquisitely fitting into the universe, and how Shinichi's feelings are so complex, and the teamwork... just. Everything about this fic pulls at my heartstrings.

As for personal headcanons for Shinichi/Conan, here is a few:

Shinichi/Conan is neurodivergent as fck. I personally like to think he is on the autism spectrum, but I'm very flexible on the exact nature. One thing for sure: he is not neurotypical. At. All.

HE'S A CERTIFIED PENCIL BITER YOUR HONOUR!!! (IT'S NOT EVEN A HEADCANON AT THIS POINT- *GETS HIT*)

No one can tell me, No One, that after all these traumatic experiences this child doesn't experience panic attacks or PTSD.

WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE STOPPED PLAYING SOCCER, HE LOVES SOCCER!! (The kids are totally the reason he got more involved in soccer again, YOU HEAR ME-)

Shinichi keeping gloves on his person for Crime Scene Examination Purposes, At All Times.

Shinichi having his own shorthand, you cannot tell me he doesn't TAKE NOTES, he so totally WOULD. (HE HAS A NOTEBOOK ON HIM!!! AND SOMETHING TO WRITE WITH!!! OFC HE WOULD HAVE AN EFFECTIVE WAY TO TAKE NOTES!!!)

Thank you for your attention, may you have a blessed day, darling!

[thenamessparkplug]

The Bad, The Worse, and The Downright Idiotic

A Wiatt Nicholson Analysis

YOU GUYS HAVE NO IDEA HOW LONG I HAVE WAITED TO VERBALLY KILL THIS DUDE. I HAVE BEEN STRANGLING HIM WITH MY MIND SINCE THE COLLAPSE OF THE BUILDING. AND THIS IS WHY.

DISCLAIMERS!! : One, I have absolutely nothing against any of the writers on this show! You all are doing a fantastic job for how small this series is and I do genuinely adore the work you guys do < 3. Second, I want to make it clear that I do not condone anything Sara has done on her own terms. And she has done bad things on her own terms. She has done horrible things and I do not think that should be brushed under the rug. I do, however, believe her to be redeemable. 

(side note I did get a lil sidetracked when talking about sara, whom I also have strong feelings towards and'll prolly get her own rant in the future)

What has Wiatt done?

Now Wiatt seems to have his heart in the right place, however good intentions hardly amount to much when your actions directly cause death, suffering, and irreversible damage.  

He can’t tell that so much of what’s going on is because Litho knows he’s going to lead people directly into his own plans. This especially became evident in the last episode. Did he not remember the risks of anything relating to Litho?? Why on earth would he think it was safe for Pen, Lisa, or even Hayden whom narrowly survived? 

I know by this point to take everything character’s say with a grain of salt (and I know this isn’t directly Wiatt’s fault either), but I really wanna get into what Hayden said while yelling at Wiatt. He states that since he arrived at dreamworld, someone has gone missing every week. Wiatt has worked here for at least a year. Even considering taking a month off for the collapse fiasco, that is 47 weeks. 47 people. THAT IS INSANE. Even cutting that number in half for hyperbole’s sake that’s still 23 missing people since Wiatt started. Jesus christ man. 

What else has he done? He broke Starlight after recklessly jumping into a hole, got wtdw!rainbott seemingly mindwiped, recorded entirely private and frankly unrelated moments and UPLOADED them, been responsible for the deaths of his coworkers (to name a few anyways), and what does he have to show for it? A police station that thinks he’s insane. He couldn’t possibly have been more tactless trying to convince them to begin an investigation. 

It seems he thinks that because the people he’s against are bad, that automatically makes him good - in the right - but he is so blinded by his sense of a binary wrong and right he fails to see the horrible things he himself has caused. 

Against the Antagonist

I wanna talk about Sara for a second. From what we’ve learned thus far, and I know we haven’t gotten all that many Sara scenes, almost all of what Sara does seems to be attempting to clean up a mess she made many years ago, in comparison to Wiatt who does absolutely nothing but stir the pot.

Sara is stuck here; she is bound to Litho and cannot escape no matter how hard she wants to. She had friends. She’s doing what Litho wants because she has to. We saw what happened when she tried to defy him. Wiatt is only here because of one connection, but could literally leave whenever he wants no harm no foul.

Now the Norman thing I am curious about, because so far, I can’t figure out why 1. she killed him in the first place and certainly 2. why she kept the footage of it. She never seemed to hate Norman, if anything she would be against him for clearly being infatuated with Andrew, and I can’t really blame her for that? I mean nothing is enough to justify murder, but it wouldn’t be in cold blood. I’m also assuming this is before Dreamworld Entertainment due to the fact that Norman seemingly had no involvement. Another odd thing not only was he rebuilt to look exactly like he did when he was alive, but he retained all of his memories as well, and was given a higher power among the staff of Watchful Eye Toys, with memory control himself.

Whatever happened during his death must have been important.

But back to Wiatt. All of Sara actions, albeit terrible, were calculated and she did what she believed was necessary. Wiatt has no concept that his actions have consequences, so all he does is messy things up, making everything far worse than it needed to be.

Why should I care? (Comparison to Eric)

At the very beginning when Eric is first introduced, we are given no reason to care at all about him. I mean, we know he was friends with Lewis but that’s not enough to really grow any attachment to him. We start learning little facts about him, but when it really clicks is during the secret tapes.

Seeing Eric outside of the main plot, his real personality, his hopes, his dreams, his struggles starting from a young age up until how he is today. We’re given the chance to build connections with him and see him as a real person, a character with depth. Knowing his motivations and what built him makes it so easy to grow extremely attached, making any horrific things hit much harder.

Now moving back to Wiatt, we really don’t get to see the real him. We see him once interacting with Lewis, but even that was simply for plot relevance. We really know nothing about him. Even his transition, which would be so easy to capitalize on seeing as the viewership of Dreamworld is highly LGBTQ+, and many people would relate. But we get more about Mike’s transition than Wiatt, and he’s only ever had one real scene as himself.

That’s not even dipping into who Wiatt is as a person. What are his passions? Who are his loved ones outside of just Lewis? What was school like for him? What got him into the mechanic business? Who took care of him after his parents died? I understand this can be hard to smoothly integrate into a story but look how well it worked with Eric’s tapes.

Now this is getting much more into the writing side of the show, but I think something that's kind of lacking is character building filler. As much as having a concise plot is nice, without scenes or even full episodes dedicated to fleshing out our cast, it makes it really difficult to connect.

There’s so so much of his character to explore that we just never get into, and it kinda makes it hard to root for him when there’s nothing backing his character. Just like, a few more tapes of Wiatt would be plenty, something outside of Lewis. I would love to see his relationships with other characters (you cannot build a sense of character off one single relationship), how he views himself, just anything.

Its incredibly difficult to analyze a character when they seemingly have no depth.

In Conclusion

I am not a fan of Wiatt as it currently is (understatement of the year), but good god am I persuadable. I just want Dreamworld to give me a reason to root for him. Something to sympathize with, relate to. Have him improve. Allow him to realize his mistakes, and become a better person for that.

I don’t think he’s a lost cause.

But give me a reason to believe that.

[trashc-anon]

Disney PJO is mellow

post with spoilers, duh. srly I doubt I'm thinking anything new, but I need these thoughts out of my head!

i recently watched Season 1 out of curiosity (i know, so late) and wow! first impression is how they mellowed out almost everything. I'm re-reading book 1 to double check my impressions and coulnd't get past chapter 3 without writing this post, because the changes in tone are so drastic!

HUGE POST BELOW kinda rant-y

First things first: I adore they decided to cast age aproprite actors, make the insanity they go thorugh obviously insane! (im englishing well)

That said: Percy in the books is an angry lil shit! Boy was ready to throw down with anyone and everyone. Series!Percy barely has a funcionting personality. Not dishing on the actor! When the character is supposed to be angry and angst-y, I can see him doing his best <3 My critique is with the writing. It seems they decided to make Percy more approable and relatable as a "good kid" as opposed to a traumatized ADHD student with consistent behavioural issues. It happened in the movies too. Movie!Percy got to be snappy because the actors and audience were older, but not nearly the level of rage and disrespect a 16 year old could have.

Given how mild series!Percy home life is vs book!Percy I don't mind as much as the the series develops because it looks like character development after repeated murder attempts.

Which brings me to point 2 - the reason I can't get past chapter 3: SALLY FUCKING JACKSON! She's a saltless cracker, overgrown teenager still wheeping over her summer romance with "the guy"! I knew the fandom had glorified her, I've seen some posts "hey, did you actually read the book?" And I hadn't since middle school, so my memory was clouded, but fucks sake! I was drinking the emo Kool-Aid to forget that mess of a plot hole. Thank fuck they rebranded series!Sally. She actually has a personality and seems like to know what is what and try to prepare Percy as a demigod who will outgrow her protection.

The diner flashback scene in which she talks to Poseidon helps her "I knew all along" know it all attitude, which doesn't work in the books because as far as she explains it: she and Poseison did the do, she got pregant and they never saw each other again. No reason to be greek mythology geek, definitly not enough to know about camp and the lastest breaking news in the mythic world.

(Poseidon's involvement creates some morality questions for me, some "how are we going to handle some topics later on" issues when episode 3 comes up, but more on that later)

I blinked and missed the reveal that she married Gabe to protect Percy, and the cascading logic of how her different personalities affected that marriage is mindblowing.

It affects the type of Gabe she married, therefore, how much of his abuse was Sally's fault. Series!Sally has agency and talks back, the kind of woman I can see attracting a god. More importantly, if she's making the decision to deliberately put her beloved son in contact with a nasty person whose smell will deter monsters, she won't put up with a monster herself, rather a loser who might as well be stanky trash sitting in the corner for too long. B

ook!Sally just doesn't sell that kind of confidence and since the books are first person POV we have to postulate that over the years Sally fell victim to Gabe's abuse (resulting in her lack of outstanding personality) and justified staying in the relatioship as "protecting Percy", which makes her complicit. Which is not great mom. And I do remember later in the books its resolved off screen and she "marries a nice guy, florishes as a person and has his baby". Errrr.... It's fiction, and I don't care for the mother character abused for the sake of her child to be saved by another marriage and have another child.

3: don't have much to say about Groover, I love him every time. <3 Book!Grover whines more and is a bit of a coward, while series!Groover is more like the sweet resilient pacificist that chooses non-violance. (and a twelve year actor saying "I'm 24" to Ares was hilarious!)

4: WILL ANY INSTALMENT WILL EVER SOLVE THE MYSTERY OF CHIRON AT PERCY'S PRIVATE SCHOOL?

He is the one functioning "trust worthy" adult in the entire camp and he leaves for months at a time to teach at private schools? Leaving behind, I don't know, teenagers and a drunk god to look after the smaller ADHD kids with powers all year round? Does no one see a problem with this? *side eye*

As a plot device it only serves to give Percy A SUPER POWERFUL SWORD WITHOUT HIM EVER HAVING BEING TRAINED FOR IT, and to have Percy trust him before arriving at the crazy camp that regularly send children to their deaths.

(AND THEN THAT PONY HAS THE AUDACITY TO PIKACHU FACE WHEN PERCY IS REAVALED POSEIDON'S KID WHEN ITS IMPLIED THE ONLY REASON HE WAS AT THAT SCHOOL, AWAY FROM HIS OTHER HUNDRED UNDER AGE CHARGES, WAS TO PROTECT PERCY THE BIG THREE KID NO ONE KNEW WAS A BIG THREE KID)

*inhale**exhale* I'm cool I'm cool

I will probably have more thoughts as I reread the book. I think I will write my impressions of series!Annabeth before she turns up in the next chapter so I have a more controled before and after impressions.

so far, overall, I was bored up until episode 3 with Medusa, and boy! that's when you can tell Uncle Rick is involved in the production process. After the first book series being critized for lacking diversity, he did his homework on many polarizing subjects which I appreciate being talked about in middle grade books/ series. And I think that will bite him in the ass when it polarizes the fandom in coming seasons and Disney cuts him out.

See ya!