#so yeah no. this one took a while to get right lol

[the-kr8tor]

16?!! I'VE WRITTEN THAT MUCH SINCE THE LAST BESTIE THOUGHT?! Lol i can just imagine you sighing and adding a fic to the tabs whenever i upload a new one 🤣

Yeah same but the longer it does that i just wanna get out of there and go home lol

Oh i feel that through my bones 🥲 for me I'd have fun for like an hour or two but after my social battery runs out i just wanna go home

HAHAHAHHA i just realized that 😂 they'd be surprised that the footage ends up like a garbled mess

Hmmm definitely both!! Those were really good points

Oh god imagine that 😬

Aww the image of the doggo with earmuffs got me all 🥺

Hell yea treat them like paparazzi!

LMAOOOO IMAGINE THAT 😂

It's definitely flash/eugene! Who's the new guy?

Social anxiety is scared of james fr

I was thinking that he just started college a bit later on! Him and Hobie are def the same age tho

HAHAHHAHA that's so true!! He's always looking for his wifey

I'd like to say that it's both. Like MJ knows that r doesn't like that stuff but under that she doesn't share the same feelings as r in that department 😔 like for r, mj is it, that's her best friend her ride of die and for mj that feeling dwindled through the years and she has gotten used to r and kind of placed her in the back of her mind and r definitely feels it too since they spend a lot of time together at home. As for MJ's band, they see her as just her roommate and friend nothing else

🤣 they will! Maybe

We're r in this situation lol

Same and i only like them if they're softer than a regular corduroy

True same thoughts here!!

I actually deleted a line that described the handkerchiefs! If i remember correctly it was a patterned one with a simple h.b stitched at the hem. I should've added that hmm 🤔 i think it got lost while i was editing it and i just forgot to add it again lol

HAHHAHAHA there she is officer! The one who pushed them! 😂

YESS EXACTLY THAT I LOVE U!!! This will definitely be tackled in the next chapter!!

HELL YEA R DESERVES TO BREAK SOME PLATES!!

Oh harry def goes to those usual hunts wink wink nudge nudge r was suspicious too but it'll be revealed soon hehe

The rolodex killed me 🤣 the only thing I'll say is that--- *gets shot*

Right?! Like they literally went there together! She should notice!!

Yeah :(

Imma say it, r should've hit the camera man

Lmaoooo who are u harry Osborne and what do u want 😂 i need r to say that to his face *writes that down* 😂

I would've chased them with a broom

Their relationship is messyyyy

HAHAHHAHAHAHA BESTIE 😂

R had the same thoughts like "did they date????"

Hehehe thank u!! I was giggling while writing that part

R should have gayatri as her best friend instead of mj

LMAOOO That took me awhile to get 😂

HAHAHHAHAHAHGA Me when Peter b showed up in atsv

Yesss it fits him! Poor miguel ppl don't understand that he doesn't own the company 😂

HELL YEA SOMEONE FINALLY NOTICED!!

LOL he's crushing so hard!! R gives him a bottle of water-- gasp you remembered i like water! 😍

Their relationship is a cup of milk left out in the counter overnight 😂

Do I Wanna Know?

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Synopsis: Hobie invites you to a gig and it doesn't end well.

Word count: 14.2k

Tags: Use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader (except for clothing), Reader has nicknames, co-worker AU, part 2, mockumentary AU, slow burn, co-worker! Hobie, CW alcohol, CW anxiety, a bit of loser! Hobie.

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Part 2 >>> Part 3

The music booms around the bar, bass reverberating against the sticky walls whilst the boom mics had to be toned down unless it'll break from the sheer volume. The glasses on the tables shake from the loud music, it's all felt through your chest. You stand near the bar, draped in black and a clearly borrowed leather jacket that still bears the initials of its owner right on the lapel— MJ.

Spotlights flicker in and out in the darkened room as the cameras hone in on your bobbing head and shining eyes. Your face says you're having fun, but from how you hug yourself and how you make your presence smaller by hiding behind the cheering crowd— you look uncomfortable to say the least. The music is nice while you tap your foot to the rhythm, but the new place and unfamiliar faces meld together in harmony to make you feel as out of place as possible.

Pursing your lips together as your gaze falls on Hobie's bare arms down to his lithe fingers playing the guitar expertly, you feel like a creep at your obvious ogling of your co-worker. Your hand feels frozen around your drink, as you take a sip, expecting the warm concoction to ebb through you, there's nothing left but a drop of it. You frown, eyes roaming around the noisy venue, trying to look for MJ until it stops at the out of place camera crew all huddled around in the corner.

Blinking, you narrow your eyes at them, realization flits across your face and morphs into shock and disgust.

“Fuckers.” You say, muffled and quiet enough to not be picked up by the boom mic as you place your glass on the table with a thud.

The documentary crew dodges the dancing crowd and elbows flying around as they get to you. All the while you try to escape from them by weaving through the crowd.

“Is that a dog?” Your eyes catch a four legged friend. You pause in the thick of it, pointing at an actual dog being carried around on someone's shoulders. It's meant to be a distraction for the camera crew, but it has you stopping by to look at the very happy dog getting pet by everyone.

The crew doesn't believe it at first while they're still a few steps behind you, but as you continue to point at the dog, they wrench the cameras away from you to film the dancing dog in the crowd. When they look back at you, you're already gone.

The numerous sweaty limbs uncomfortably brushing along your arms as you dodge people has your skin crawling. The cameras still follow you around like paparazzi as Hobie's band continues to play, adrenaline flowing through the lunch club as they play and sing their hearts out. You almost make it out towards the bathroom, but you're stopped by the owner of the jacket you're currently wearing.

“Woah, where are you heading out to? I got your refill.” The redhead shows you a half empty glass of your preferred drink as she places a hand on your shoulder. You sigh and look behind you, finding that they're now filming you and hounding you. MJ notices them, and tries to shoo them away with a sharp glare. They take a step back, and only that.

You fully face the camera and get hit straight on by the bright light held by a crew member. Shielding yourself with your hand over your eyes, you look like you're about to hit them.

“Why are you all even here? It's Saturday!” You yell above the loud music, peripheral picking up Hobie looking at you, or behind you as MJ steps in between you and the camera.

“C’mon, guys, leave the girl alone.” Her words are slightly slurred around, clearly tipsy from drinking.

The producer tries to say something, and you only pick up the words, ‘contract’, and ‘obligated’ above the sound of the raging crowd and the guitar riff on stage. You take a glimpse at the show and you almost fall backwards from how Hobie's making his guitar sing with his expert movements.

“Obligated for what?” MJ asks for you, body nudging your own when her balance fails her.

“To film some drama!” This time, the producer yells above the sound.

“Drama? There's no drama here! It's just us hanging around!” The audience's clapping falls in your deaf ears. “Go away, we're not at work!”

Just as you say it, Hobie jumps off the stage, instruments and all. Even the cameraman has a shocked look on his face. Before you could react, ears still ringing from the prolonged loud sound banging around in your eardrums, and the shining light blaring in your eyes, you're overwhelmed by everything. The alcohol in your system doesn't help. Hobie siddles up next to you, an after show musk coupled up with burgundy wafts on your nose. His elbow perches on your shoulder, eyeing the lenses that stare back at him.

“Hobie—”

“Y’know, ‘m not one to complain ‘bout shit like this but,” he pokes the lense, smudging it with his index finger. “Stay the fuck away, yeah? Or I'll get your little show cancelled before it premieres on shitty cable.”

The producer grumbles and glares at Hobie before leading the rest towards the far end of the bar. After a quick wipe on the lense, they continue to film your group from a distance. At least they're not in your space anymore.

“Thank you, Hobie—”

“Hobie, our knight in shining armor!” MJ exclaims, warm breath fanning across your cheek as the cold drink spills all over your front.

“Shit, MJ!” You flinch away, frantically wiping at your blouse that now smells of alcohol and regrets.

“Fuck, I'm sorry!” She grabs a napkin from the nearby table to the dismay of its occupants. Fruitlessly dabbing on your blouse and smudging the wetness even more.

Hobie takes a handkerchief from his pocket and gives it to you. “I think your friend ‘ere has had too much to drink, love.”

“Thank you.” You give him an apologetic look as you desperately try to dry yourself off.

You wince at how you probably look like in front of him and his band right now. Hobie looks handsome in his leather and metal getup complete with mascara running down his cheeks. You never thought that running mascara would look good on anyone, but here's Hobie proving you wrong once again just like the fishnets decorating his arms that are in full display from his sleeveless shirt. A sleeveless shirt is a generous way to call it as it's ripped from his armpit down to his lean stomach. You feel lightheaded.

To add insult to injury, the rest of his band appears from the stage. Sweat clinging on their brows, instruments still in their hands as they look at you with unfamiliarity.

“Yeah, sorry, h–hi.” You laugh nervously, eyes roaming around the familiar faces and new ones that accompany him. “I made it— we made it.” MJ is still trying to wipe at your probably see through blouse right now. But Hobie's eyes are staying right on your face, you can't say the same thing to one of his blond mates though. Grabbing the edges of the leather jacket, you close it around yourself and make your roommate stop fussing around you.

“Hey!” MJ stumbles backwards but Hobie catches her with a firm hand around her wrist. “Thanks, dude.” She clumsily winks, and you regret letting her out of your sight for five minutes when she went to the bathroom.

“Sure,” Hobie smiles just as a pink spotlight illuminates his face. You're sure the camera crew are having a field day, and you're definitely going to complain to O’Hara when you get back to work. Clearing his throat, he sidles up next to you once again, palm placed on your shoulder and nudging you in place. “Meet the band, this ‘ere is Yuri.” He points towards a woman with slicked back hair and dark shadow around her brown eyes.

“Hey,” she nods at you, spiked earrings moving around. “I met your friend in the bathroom before we played, I had to stop her from calling her ex.”

“Thanks?” You eye MJ, and she cowers away from you teasingly as she hides behind Yuri, who only chuckles at her. “I—I mean, nice to meet you Yuri.”

Hobie grins as he continues to introduce you to his friends, including the blond aka James, who's six foot two and looks like he came out of a magazine catalogue. Giving a spare glance at MJ, whose head is lolling back, but with Yuri's help, she's kept upright. “This one's Ned, my roommate, who's leavin’ me for some fancy school.”

Ned rolls his dark eyes at Hobie, keyboard placed next to him as he gives you a hand to shake. “He's overdramatic,” you take it with a smile and let go not a moment longer. “I'm just moving to a dorm.” Hobie dramatically pouts, chin placed on your shoulder that he immediately moves away after what his adrenaline made him do. Ned gives him a knowing smile, one that the camera didn't miss out on. “Still going to be in the same city, I might add.”

“Nice to meet you, Ned. And I'm getting used to his overdramatic self.” You say, and Hobie nudges your side with feigned offense.

“You better get used to it, I think you two will hangout more.” Ned raises his brow at Hobie with a snicker.

“‘course they will.” Gwen clicks her tongue, arm looped over Miles’ shoulder, who doesn't seem like he minds it very much as he holds onto her hand gingerly.

Hobie gives her his middle finger as he leans against you. “You're jus’ jealous that I let her in the mailroom, Gwendy—”

A loud gasp and then a squeal can be heard from MJ, eyes wide as she gazes behind you. The whole group turns towards the bar where a familiar set of faces sits and waves her down.

“Mary Janes!” MJ bolts towards them, arms flailing around excitedly while her band meets her halfway.

You wince, thinking that your friend has ruined her first impression, and in turn yours.

As you turn towards Hobie, there's a smile on his face and eyes twinkling in the light as he watches MJ and her band embrace and jump for joy at the reunion. He notices your eyes on him, and as he meets with yours, his smile turns into a grin, piercings shimmering and hand splayed over your back. You're entranced by him, lips smiling bashfully as you feel your heartbeat quickening the longer he gazes upon you.

“They seem excited.” Yuri's voice smacks you out of your stupor.

Hobie looks away, Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallows down thickly. He coughs on his fist, hand falling away from your back to your slight disappointment. He still stays in place, elbow to elbow and shoulder to shoulder right next to you.

“Y–Yeah, they're always like that even though they see eachother everyday.” You manage to let out despite your wobbly legs.

“We should introduce ourselves.” James says as he combs his hair with his fingers and fixes his shirt.

Ned raises a brow at James as he saunters over to the all girl group. “I gotta make sure he doesn't get punched this time.” With a sigh, he follows his bandmate.

“I think I know the purple haired one.” Yuri murmurs, and slowly walks over to the bar with her eyes straining to have a look. “Oh shit, I definitely do.” She quickly walks towards them, even overtaking James and Ned.

You see MJ mouth something to her bass player, and the band's eyes collectively move towards the man standing next to you. They smile and beckon him and the rest of the band over.

“Good thing we have to leave before we have to socialise.” Gwen says, looping her arm around Miles’ shoulder. “Study at my place again, Miles?”

Miles visibly stiffens, mouth in a straight line. You swear you can see a bead of sweat dribble off his temple. “S–Sure.”

“You guys are leaving already?” You ask, smiling as Gwen holds out her fist to you. Awkwardly fist bumping her, Miles nods at you. An attempt to make a coherent farewell while Gwen still has her arm around him.

“Yeah, homework. College sucks, man.” She clasps Hobie's shoulder. “Take care of her, wanker.” She chuckles out, copying his accent.

“Sure, knobhead.” Hobie waves them off, watching as the pair walks out of the bar with Gwen's drum sticks sticking out of her back pocket and Miles lugging his guitar case. “Those two better have real homework for bailin’ on us. Did you like the show?” He asks, biting his lip.

“They're driving home?” You ask, worried about them. Your eyes glance over to his lips before flicking back to his brown eyes. “Yeah, I loved it. You were great— and the band too.”

“Don't worry about them, they're sober.” Hobie lingers next to you. “And thanks, love. I thought you wouldn't show up.”

“I couldn't miss it.”

“Too bad Pav ain't ‘ere, he fancies meetin’ other bands.”

“Oh, what happened to him?”

“Got himself sick after takin’ care of Gayatri.” He sighs as he leans against the wall casually with his hands tucked inside his pockets.

“That's too bad.” Glancing at the bar, you see them making introductions and it looks like they're all hitting it off. “Aren't you going to join them?” You nudge his boot with your own.

“Aren't you?” He raises a pierced brow, the corner of his lip tugging into a subtle smile as red lights flicker in and out of his face.

“I have to clean myself up before I make a fool out of myself even more.” You chuckle nervously, the lack of humour from your tone has Hobie standing up straight.

“You didn't do anythin’ foolish, love.”

“I smell like beer, and I'm not in my own clothes. I feel and smell silly.”

He twists in place, head laying against the wall as he turns his full attention on you. “You do smell like a pub right now.”

You groan, eyes closing briefly like you're in pain. “More reason to head to the bathroom and clean myself up.” Turning around to head towards the restrooms, Hobie reaches for your wrist, tugging you back in place.

“I like pubs.” He says a bit sheepishly as his hand remains braceleted around your wrist.

You feel like you're about to choke on your own breath. And the two of you haven't realized that the cameras are now situated right next to you and Hobie, a lot more sneaky this time as they use the darkness of the bar to their advantage.

“But why aren't you in your own clothes?” Hobie asks, genuinely concerned for you.

“I—” the cameras capture your wobbling lips and blown out irises. “I just thought I'd stick out like a sore thumb if I went in wearing my regular clothes.”

Hobie smiles, a softness etched in his smile lines and eyes slowly blinking at you. All the while the documentary crew records the whole thing with bated breath.

“Yeah, but you'll be yourself. That's better than tryin’ to blend in with the rest of the crowd.”

You inhale shakily, insecurity gnawing at the back of your neck. “Who would want that?” It's meant as a joke, a self deprecating one that's only targeted to yourself but a joke nonetheless.

“I would.” Hobie says matter-of-factly. “I might've seen you sooner while I was on stage. If you're uncomfortable, we can go somewhere else. Bail on these arseholes.”

“I'm not uncomfortable— well, not because I don't want to be here. I do want to be here.” You ramble on and he listens wholeheartedly. “It's just…I get nervous around new people, and being at a new place…it's just I don't know.”

“Nah, I do know.” He pats your bicep, palm warm as he lingers there for a second. “If it gets too much, tell me, and I'll drive you home or somewhere quieter.”

Biting your lip, you take a leap and take one step closer to him. You think he's about to move away from you, but he adjusts his position so you're perfectly in place in front of him; so that he can see your eyes illuminated by the spotlights. Your knee brushes along his own, and his hand grows closer to your hand, fingers dangling on the jacket's sleeve, mere inches from the back of your hand. A comfortable silence wafts over the two of you. After a beat, you finally talk.

“The coolest thing I have in my closet is a brown corduroy jacket and these boots.” You gesture by lifting your foot up to show him your high heeled boots with dangling stars on the laces. “And maybe a pair of spiky earrings that I bought when I was in highschool.” Chuckling, you try not to let your shyness ebb out ever since MJ managed to persuade you to get out of your well worn shell.

Hobie smiles with every word you uttered. “That sounds like a bloody good outfit, love. It suits you.”

“Maybe I'll wear that next time— I mean— if there's another show?” Your brave face falters.

He can't help but be endeared by your flusteredness. “We have another one if you're free on December twenty four, only if you can make it. It's a long shot, ‘m sure you have plans with mates and family.”

You nod a bit too enthusiastically, so you try to act more smooth by slowing your nodding. You have no idea if you look as suave as you think you are when you're probably smiling at him like you've won a car. Then it hits you, he's a colleague.

The fact that he's your co-worker at your very new job, a job that's still teetering you on the edge of unemployment whether you do good in the next six months or not. Maybe it's better if you just stay professional with him. Or at least just be friends, and you can't bring yourself to ruin what you currently have with Hobie so you'll keep talking to him. But if it's heading in the direction towards what you think it's going, you have to rein it in before you end up in the streets. Or worse, back in your parents house. It's just a well meaning crush anyway.

The cameras zoomed in on your face has a front row seat to your internal dilemma through your micro expressions that Hobie isn't privy to.

“I’ll see, I–I have to check first, it's the holidays after all.”

“Yeah, ‘course, love. No pressure.” Hobie beams, as if the prospect of your maybe was just as good as a yes.

“Do I have to bring a gift?” You joke, poking his stomach that you immediately regret after feeling the lean muscle underneath. If HR was here, you'd be in trouble.

Chuckling, Hobie shakes his head, trying to ignore the calling of his name from the other side of the bar. “Nah, but I won't say no to a present from you though.”

You snort, nodding awkwardly as your bout of bravery wavers away into the sounds of the bar. “Okay.”

“Hobie! Bruv!” James yells for him so loudly that half of the dancefloor looks towards the source.

Hobie groans, head falling down to his clavicle before turning towards him and flipping the bird. “Right, ‘m comin’” You smile as he cranes his head back to you. “C’mon then, they're an impatient lot.” He tugs you by your sleeve, but you stay in place.

You look between the waiting group then to Hobie. “I need to get cleaned up first, it's starting to get sticky.”

“Right, I forgot, go ahead I'll wait for you outside.” He lets your sleeve go, hands placed back inside his pockets as he gestures towards the bathroom right next to the stage.

“Oh no, it's fine. Go to them, I'll survive being alone for a few minutes.”

“You sure?” You nod as his face flickers with concern. “D’you have the handkerchief I gave you?”

“Yeah,” you take the said hanky out of your pocket. “Here, thanks again.”

“Keep it, love.” He laughs as the backdrop of dancing and wild lights frame around him.

“Shit, right, sorry, I need to wash it first.” Shoving the cloth down, you internally curse yourself.

“Nah, I meant that you should keep it.” Hobie starts walking backwards casually as the yelling of his name gets louder and louder that he's sure that they're gonna kick his band and the Mary Janes out of the pub.

“Wait, are you sure?” You ask him again just to be sure that he truly meant that he's giving it to you, but his figure is already retreating away with a smirk on his lips.

Watching him and the band together with your roommate and mutual friends brings a smile to your face. Even the smell of alcohol clinging to your front and your botched attempt at trying to act cool in front of your handsome co-worker couldn't ruin your night. Now all you have to do is clean yourself up and prepare your social battery for all the talking you're about to do. Going out of your shell might not be so bad after all.

Until you notice the sneaky cameras that is.

—

After much scrubbing and awkwardly drying your blouse under the bathroom’s hand dryer, you come out of it like a new woman who only faintly smells like booze.

The bar is still alive and in full swing just as you left it. An unfamiliar band plays on stage, hyping up the dancers. Spotlights flicker in and out to the beat, multicoloured lights illuminating your way towards the bar.

As you walk by a table, you notice the camera crew still inconspicuously (or trying to be) recording you.

“Really? Do you guys have nothing better to do?” You give up and decide to just ignore them from now on.

Dodging bodies and trays of drinks, you finally make it to the bar where your friends are. The place has gotten rowdier and nosier as more patrons filter through the doors. You smile as the bar is busier than ever, serving more people than when you left it. You look over to where you last saw them, only to find that strangers are now occupying the seats.

“Oh.” Your heart plummets down to your stomach, but you go on, roaming around the whole bar and doing laps to look at every table and every seat to find them. After going around the whole place three times, you end up back at the bar with a worried frown.

With the documentary crew still following you, you refuse to ask them for help when you've decided to ignore them.

“What's your poison?” The bartender asks you above the booming house music.

“Uh,” your hands involuntarily shakes. “Have you seen a red head with the band that played here?”

“That's not a drink order.” He says with a heavy tone.

“Please?”

You ask nicely, and his tough guy persona crumbles with a sigh. “Impossible to not notice them with a whole ass crew following right behind them.” He rolls his eyes, he's even annoyed at the cameras. “They went out for a smoke, but that was a long time ago. Paid their tab though.”

Relief washes over you as your stiff shoulders sag. “Thank you.” Quickly going outside, the cold hits your face like a train. “F–Fuck.”

It wasn't this cold when you got here, the freezing breeze nips at your cheeks, blowing at your lashes harshly and making you squint. The overcast sky greets you as you look up, grey clouds floating above. It looks like it's about to rain.

You hug your jacket tighter around yourself as you step fully outside into the street. Your jeans don't help much in protecting you from the cold, and your borrowed leather jacket feels like a denim jacket in a blizzard. At least it's not raining or worse, snowing. Your heeled boots would make you slip and crack your skull if there's sleet on the concrete.

“O–Okay.” You make your way towards an alleyway next to the bar where you surmise where people smoke. As you go around the building, you see a few people there but none of them have familiar faces. “Shit.” Your teeth start to chatter as you turn back around only to find the camera pointing right at you. You still refuse to even acknowledge them when you return towards the bar doors.

“Sorry, we're full.” The bouncer bars you from entering with a muscular arm stopping you. There's now a line around the building that you just notice through your slight panic.

“What?”

“We're full, sorry.”

“You just interchanged the words.” You huff, brows knitted together in worry. “Please, it's cold out here.”

“Go someplace else, kid.” He says gruffly, shooing you away before shutting the door right on your face. “There's a line, wait like the others.”

“What the fuck?” You've had enough and you grab your phone from your pocket. As you click it open, the screen doesn't wake and you're met with a black screen with your reflection staring back at you. You keep pressing the screen in hopes that it'll open, but to no avail. “F–Fuck.” You shiver in place, remembering that you forgot to charge it this morning.

The producer taps your shoulder and tries to hand you her phone.

“No, thank you.” With a frown, you put your foot down, shove your phone back in your pocket and continue walking towards the direction of the bus stop or what you think is where the nearest bus stop is.

“Other direction—” the man behind the camera says and you huff and turn the other way with your hands shoved in your pockets.

Your heels click against the pavement, body shivering as you feel like a walking popsicle. The sadness hasn't reached you yet, not when your fury keeps you warm. How could they just up and leave you like that? How could they even forget you? A whole ass person, and their friend? Especially MJ, whom you share a half of a locket with.

As you stop your marching, the camera pauses right with you as they stay further back. Your lip wobbles, sniffing and hands feeling numb. They forgot you, just when you finally feel like you're seen. Hobie forgot you.

Chest aching, and with a sob threatening to claw up and escape, you bite your lip that you almost draw blood. The fists hidden inside your pockets shakes, nails digging into your palms harshly and leaving crescent shapes on your skin. The producer pleads with you to ride in their van so you don't have to tread the cold but you insist with a glare and continue to ignore them.

“Y–You should go.” Your teeth clack against each other, while the soles of your feet now feel numb. The October weather isn't agreeing with you right now. “I can go on my o–own.”

“You'll freeze, and it looks like it's going to rain.” The cameraman says with frustration, “we can call you a cab.”

“I’m close to the stop, you don't—” you chase your breath. “You don't have to.” But you're starting to feel that walking to the bus stop might not have been the best idea. Maybe if you just admit defeat to the crew you'll be warm and cozy at home in no time.

You're so cold that you don't notice the car following right behind you.

“Let's at least go someplace—”

“Y/N?” A familiar voice calls out.

You stop, face lighting up with hope, only to find the source of the voice as someone you never thought you'd see outside of work. “Harry?”

He parks his car, leaning over the empty passenger seat to look at your shaking form. “What're you doing out here? You'll freeze to death.” He glances at the crew following right behind you. “Christ, they got you too, huh?” With a roll of the window on the backseat, he shows another set of camera and crew sitting behind him. “O’Hara's new memorandum is bullshit by the way.”

You could only shiver in place, not having enough warmth left to ask what he's talking about.

“Shit, you'll get frostbite. Get in.” Harry opens the door for you, and you shake your head. “I don't want to be responsible for Layla’s favourite dying on my watch. Please.”

“I–I can just go to the bus stop.” Your lips feel like icicles. And it's not even snowing.

“That's miles away from here.” His voice is laced with genuine concern.

“I don't— don't want to intrude.” There's clouds of smoke billowing out of your lips now that the cold has picked up. Maybe it's about to snow. “And I don't know you, you might be a murderer or something.”

Harry laughs, the least you expect from someone as straight faced as him. “There's literally cameras following us.”

“That's— that's still a no on the murderer part t–though.”

“If you don't get in and I let you stay out there then I'll definitely be a murderer.” His nose scrunches up, smiling at you. “And I really don't want to get fired.”

You look straight towards the cameras, before you could refuse again, raindrops drip down from the sky and towards the tip of your nose. That decides it for you. With a few steps, you enter Harry's car. The warm seats immediately make you melt into the leather chair. You put on your seatbelt and close the door to let the warmth stay as you sigh in your seat.

“You get in too.” Harry tells the camera crew that was following you to get in after you. “It'll be a tight squeeze but I'm sure you'll make do.”

You don't even realize that the car is now moving when you feel your tired and cold bones melting into the seat and your heavy lidded eyes overtake you.

“Hey don't fall asleep or you might not wake up.” Harry nudges your shoulder.

That has you immediately opening your eyes. “What?”

“You might have hypothermia.”

You scoff, “I don't have hypothermia.”

“Sure,” Harry smiles. “Show me your fingers, they might be purple.”

“I'm not showing you my fingers, Harry.” You hide your frozen hands inside your coat.

“You weren't saying that when you cut your hand with the stapler.” He says with a lilt, camera lenses moving in on his expression and your embarrassed ones. “Seriously, we should give you safety staplers instead.”

“You had the first aid kit!” You nervously laugh as he mirrors your smile, remembering how gentle he was while dabbing antiseptic to your ‘grievous’ wound. “I had to show you.”

“And thanks to my medical skills you still have your hand.” He jokes, emerald eyes shining in the rearview mirror.

“I already said thank you for the band-aid, Harry.” You roll your eyes, sniffing as you can finally feel your toes. “Are safety staplers even a thing?”

He makes a face, shrugging as he waits for the stoplight to turn green. “I dunno, maybe. So where am I dropping you?”

“So you're not going to ask?” You awkwardly shift in your seat.

“No, it's none of my business. Unless you're in trouble or hurt. Are you either of those?” He says with concern, eyes flicking over to your shivering form.

“No.”

“Then it's not my business to ask. So where to, ice princess?”

You scoff at the nickname, the sound akin to a flustered giggle. “Just the nearest bus stop is fine.”

“We passed that a long time ago, newbie. You're clearly not from around here.” The car idles in place, engine whirring in your ears.

“I'm not. And fine, just don't tell anyone else where I live—” you suddenly remember the cameras behind you. Looking over your shoulder, you narrow your eyes at them. “I want my street to be blurred out.”

The producer sighs but nods in agreement. Harry snickers with amusement.

“If you're not from here, where are you from exactly?”

“I'm not doing the whole…” you gesture around you, “...thing with you.”

“You don't like me very much, do you?” Harry raises a brow, briefly glancing at you. He doesn't sound hurt from your words, just genuine curiosity.

“I like you enough, you're my co-worker and I literally just met you. Would you tell someone you just met your life story?” You can definitely see Harry being a friend and not just a co-worker in the future, but you're still getting used to this life and making friends seems harder now that you're older. He's friendly to you at work and he once walked you to the bus stop and waited for you to get on when you both had to work late. He's kind at least, a good criteria to have as a friend.

“I do actually, that's how first dates usually go.”

“Well, this isn't a date so.” You say, immediately regretting being rude. “I—”

“You never know. Maybe next time it'll be one.” Harry says it so casually that it has you gawping at him for a second before looking back at the road. In the corner of your eye, you see him clenching his teeth, probably cringing and regretting his comment. The car starts again, and the silence hovers above you. “Address then? Unless you want me to keep driving around blindly.”

You clear your throat, shifting in your seat. From embarrassment? Maybe. But definitely not from an uncomfortable feeling. You can't deny that his brown locks and green eyes aren't pretty. Well, not Hobie pretty, but still, handsome enough that has you flicking your eyes at his side profile. Hobie seems to hate the guy, but you still don't know why he could hate him when he's decent and seems to be nice enough to you. Perhaps there's something going on between them. A tiff or even something more? The thought provokes you as you hatch a plan to know the reason why Hobie glares at the man during meetings and when he's doing his rounds. Meanwhile Harry isn't phased by it, not ignoring him per se, indifferent more like.

As the camera crew stops filming due to the lull in conversation, you guide Harry to your place. Would it hurt to give your saviour a cup of tea before he heads in his way?

—

“Shit!” Hobie honks the van’s horn loudly, the camera behind him shakes from the sudden stop. “C’mon pick up the bloody phone!” Your caller ID blinks out as the call drops after a few rings. “Damn it.” He shakes his head at the traffic while the rain is finally rolling to a stop, now a slight drizzle.

Being the designated driver for tonight did not give him any favours. At least he saw you in all your glory without the haze of alcohol in his veins. But with him being the only sober one in the group, he had to drive everyone else to James' lest something unsavoury happens to them.

The scene shifts to back at the bar, the bass hitting him right in the chest as he glances at the bathroom door to check in on you from time to time. Hobie catches the cameras doing the same thing, filming the door and Hobie's face as he waits and sighs in his seat while everyone else were having shots and laughing.

“Fuck off.” He mouths, flipping the bird at the cameras. It's blurred but still recognizable thanks to the crappy blur. The other half of the crew are nowhere to be seen, maybe out for a smoke break.

A shrill gasp can be heard, and the camera hones in on MJ, who's bouncing on her feet.

“We should all go!”

That doesn't bode well in Hobie's ears as he tries to pry Yuri's twelfth shot from her hands. “Go where?”

“To James'!” James himself slurs, raising his glass as everyone else is cheering for him.

The thing with bands drinking together is that within fifteen to twenty minutes the drinking could put a sailor to shame. But with Hobie's band and MJ's band combined together, it only took ten minutes for them to get the bartender's signature disappointed shake of his head.

“Wait—!” Before Hobie could voice out his protest for you, who's still missing out on the fun, the rest are already drunkenly putting on their jackets as James wobbles on his feet and closes the tab. He sees that James definitely overpaid as the rest head out. With the van keys dangling in between Ned’s not-so-sober fingers, he groans and briefly glances at the door in hopes to see you coming out. Still no you though.

“Shit.” He panics, grabbing a napkin on the counter and plucking a pen from the bar that he had to go over the counter in an awkward way to fetch it. He side-eyes the camera on him, grimacing that they captured the scene in 4k. With a hasty scrawl of explanation of where they went, he writes that he'll come back for you. After a quick look, he calls the bartender. “Oi, mate,” the man shifts his gaze at the note with a bored gaze. “Can you give this to someone for me?”

“Depends, what's in it for me?”

“‘m with the group that just tipped you a fifty, bruv.”

He rolls his eyes and opens his palm begrudgingly. “Fine.”

“Thanks, she's wearin’ a leather jacket and is probably followed by a camera crew, yeah?” Hobie hurries, walking backwards until the man nods. The docu crew follows behind him, adding to his annoyance.

He only hopes that the bartender gave you the message, he'd hate it if you thought that they abandoned you. Well, the rest did, even your own roomate did, but not him as he races down the street to get to the same pub.

Finding a parking spot was a horror show, with desperation, he parks the car next to another on the street, turning on the hazard lights. The car door slams, not missing another minute of leaving you alone. The crew had to quickly run after him, camera shaking in place as they sprint after him.

There's a long line outside the bar that wasn't there before, and now he knows why they got the time slot in the hip bar.

Hobie heaves, a dried leaf crunches under his boots as he calls for the bouncer. “Mate, can you let me in, ‘m jus’ gonna pick up a friend.”

“I've heard that before, dude, no chance in hell.” He gets barred by the security guard with a burly hand on his chest.

Hobie curses internally as a car honks for him to get the van off the street. “Listen, ‘m just gonna do a quick run around to see if she's there. C’mon, bruv, she's alone in there.” He gestures towards the door, voice rising an octave as he worries about you.

“Well, shouldn't have left her all alone in there then.”

He can't even argue with that when he did exactly that. The car honks again, looking over his shoulder to see a few more cars lining up to get around the van. “Fuck.” At least this makes compelling TV as the crew doesn't even move to help him.

Swallowing down the lump in his throat, he races off towards the sides of the place, looking around the building for you, hoping that you're waiting outside. But hopefully not with the freezing cold nipping at his cheeks. To his dismay and increasing worry, he only finds unfamiliar faces.

His hands reach to the back of his neck, anxiety crawling up his spine. Patting his pockets, he feels for his phone until he realizes that he left it inside the van. Leaves crunches underfoot as he makes his way towards it, grumbling, shoulders hunched with a whole film crew following behind.

“Wait!” The bouncer's gruff voice calls him back. “Did your friend have a camera guy with her too?”

Hobie immediately runs to him. “You've seen her?”

“Yeah, she left an hour ago, man. Probably grabbed a cab or walked.”

“Walked?” He says, eyes widening. The first words flying over his head. “Which direction?”

“I don't fucking know, I closed the door behind her.”

“You—” Hobie points accusingly at the man but reins his frustration in, pinching the bridge of his nose. Instead of cursing the guy out after helping him, he returns back to the van with his brows furrowed deeply.

The crew doesn't look worried for you, not even a bit. Hobie knows that you have at least two people with you since the documentary crew split up, but he can't help but be concerned when he's the one who invited you and left you behind. You probably think of him as a bad friend.

“You're welcome!” The bouncer shakes his head, pushing a guy away from him when they try to sneak past him.

He fishes for his phone, dialing MJ’s number. The ringing sound has him clenching his teeth as he drives away.

—

It took a while to get coherent words from MJ as he tries to decipher the address she's giving on the phone. If the loud music booming from his speakers were any indication, the party's just getting started. Hobie doesn't care enough to listen to their drunken chanting of his name when he’s out here looking for you. He's thinking about giving them a wakeup call and telling them that they left you at the bar all alone. Especially to your roommate. But he has to find you safe and sound first.

“What if she's at the hospital?” The cameraman asks him, lenses roaming around the sticker filled van.

“You're not helpin’, Jericho.” Hobie huffs, not an ounce of humour in his tone.

“I'm just saying that she has two people with her, she's probably fine—”

“Shut it, we're ‘ere.” He parks the car right in front of the red bricked flat. The place is a classic house that was turned into an apartment sometime in the early 2000s. He can tell that it has three floors for each tenant and by how there's three mailboxes by the main door.

Hobie doesn't waste time in bracing the cold again to check on you. The camera follows behind, red light blinking as he resists the urge to punch its lights out.

Climbing the steps, he looks for the doorbell with yours or MJ’s name on it. Weirdly enough, he doesn't see either one. Jericho, the camera man taps his shoulder, using the camera to point towards the basement where stairs lead down to the side of the house.

He glances at the man then over to the steps as he grumbles a thanks. Making quick work of the stairs by climbing down two steps at the time, Jericho hurries along to catch up to him.

Hobie pauses in front of the window, chest heaving from the exercise and eyes staring through the glass. The lenses follow his line of sight, seeing his co-worker, Harry, sitting comfortably in the small sofa with you appearing from the side with a smile to hand him a steaming mug.

Hobie sighs in relief when he sees you, but with Harry in your flat, in your living room no less, has him turning around and climbing up the stairs.

The camera tries to follow him, but Hobie stops on the last step, back turned away from the camera. For a moment, he stands there, staying still.

With a clench of his fists, he runs back down to the landing, knocking on your door.

The camera captures Hobie's clenched jaw, and your surprised expression when you heard the sharp knock. You tell Harry to wait, and he smiles softly at you as you leave. Your footsteps hurry towards the door, cracking it open to see Hobie's strained smile.

“Hobie—! How— Hi?” You glance at the cameraman next to him, filming you two and not giving you two some privacy.

“Hi.” Hobie could only say as Harry leans on the armrest to look at who's at the door. He gives Harry an acknowledging nod, curt enough to be polite, not friendly though as his lips are stretched into a line as he stares coldly. “I went back to pick you up.”

“Oh.” You play with the string of your hoodie, “You guys kind of left so I–I just walked home. Harry saw me and drove me home though, so that's…good.”

Hobie winces, face deeply apologetic. “Fuck, ‘m sorry, everyone else were drinkin’ and they wanted to leave and I couldn't just let them drive off.” His eyes drift down to your fluffy indoor shoes, and he realises that it's the first time that he has seen you in comfy clothes, looking more relaxed unlike your office outfits and the borrowed clothing. You looked more relaxed with Harry.

“I understand, Hobie, I—” you glance behind you at Harry, who looks away immediately, sipping casually at his drink. “Can you move away for a bit?” You ask the cameraman. To your surprise, he actually walks up the stairs and gives you space. After a few moments, you gaze at Hobie as he looks like he's about to kneel down for your forgiveness. You go outside completely, shutting the door behind you. With an inhale, you reassure him. “It's really okay, Hobie, I took a long time in the bathroom—”

“It's not,” he curses himself for stopping you mid sentence. “Shit, sorry. It's jus’ it's not alright, we did leave you.”

Your eyes glissens in the moonlight that bounces off the wet pavement. “You did, and it— to be honest, it really hurt, Hobie.” You finally confess, unbeknownst to you, the mic picks up your broken tone, every word of it. “I thought you really wanted me there.” Jericho can practically hear your shattered heart from where he stands.

“I did.” He tries to reach for you but retracts his hand away. “I do, and I left a message to the bartender to tell you that I'll be back for you. I didn't mean to fuckin' leave you out there alone, love.”

You chuckle without humour. “The guy didn't say anything to me when I asked about you.”

“Fuck.” He rubs a hand over his tired face. “He must've forgotten. ‘m really sorry. I called a hundred bloody times. You didn't answer— and I don't blame you.”

“My phone ran out of battery, I'm sorry.” Hobie shakes his head subtly at your unnecessary apology. You give him a tight smile. “Well, apology accepted.”

Hobie sighs, brows knitted together, frown deeply set in place. He says your name softly, hand cupping at your wringing hands. “Are we really alright?”

You nod, staring at your joined hands before meeting with his eyes. “Yeah, don't worry, shit happens and you gotta have your priorities straight.”

You're my priority too. “Alright, good.” Is all he could say. “The next one I invite you to would be more fun, I promise.”

“Yeah,” you smile, exhaling out a cloud of smoke. “Sure, maybe.” Moving away your hand from his own, you clear your throat. “They're probably looking for you. Take care of MJ for me, she gets very kicky when she's drunk.”

Hobie chuckles, a genuine one. “Thanks for the tip. Will you be alright? Where's the camera crew?”

“I'll be fine, don't worry about me.” You nudge his bicep. “And they left a while ago, said something about us being too boring so they went out to go find you.”

“Harry?” He gestures towards the door with his chin.

“He's just about to leave, he saw my broken record player and asked to fix it for me. Don't be jealous.” You joke to help lighten the tension, hugging yourself as the cold goes through your hoodie.

“I'll try not to be.”

Heat rises to your cheeks despite the cold and your lingering sadness. “It's going to be hard, but I know you'll rise above the green monster.”

“That's true, but I can't promise to wait outside just to check if he leaves with a body bag in the shape of you.”

You finally laugh, shaking your head at him. “A charmer *and a stalker, this is why you're my favourite co-worker.” You reach to poke him jokingly, but you put your hand away to his dismay. “Seriously, I'll be fine, I have pepper spray in my pocket to ease your worries.”

“Right.” He sees you grasp the doorknob, a clear sign that you're done with the conversation. “Aim for the eyes, yeah?”

“Taking note of that. Thanks.” With your laughter lingering, he stands there in front of your door a bit too long before he remembers to walk away.

Hobie is greeted by Jericho waiting for him near the top of steps. Great, the disaster of a night you two had are recorded in the annals of history.

—

“Here's mine,” Harry hands you back your phone after he typed his number in your contacts. “If you need any help, work related or not, don't hesitate to call me, okay?”

“Okay,” you say with a shy smile as you hand his own phone back. “Thank you again, Harry. I'll pay you back for the gas—”

“Don't, I'm just glad I ran into you. I would hate for you to turn into an icicle in the downpour.” He glances at his screen and laughs, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Sorry, the snowflake emoji right next to your name got me.”

“I have a sense of humour too, y’know.” You hug the coat tighter around you as small raindrops continue to drizzle down on you and Harry, painting him in fallen dew drops while the streetlight above shines down on the two of you. The camera crew in the corner under the tree ruins it though.

“It’s not a competition but mine’s better.” He gestures towards your phone with his chin, green eyes alight.

You take a peek at your contacts, finding that he has named himself ‘free uber’ in it. With a giggle, the sound echoing in the night, you look back at the smiling Harry. “Yeah, you're right, yours is better. I'll change it to your name by the way.”

He groans dramatically as he walks backwards towards his car. “C’mon, that took a lot of time for me to think of.” Unlocking his car, he enters and waves at you after putting on his seatbelt. “I'll see you back at the office, ice princess.”

“Ice princess, really?”

“You survived the cold, so I say it fits you.” Grinning, he starts the car.

You pat your head to wipe away the dew. Skin aflame despite the weather, you tuck the coat tighter around yourself. “Take care, Harry.”

“You too. Stay warm.” With one last smile, he rolls the windows up and drives away.

The smoke from the car's exhaust hasn't fully dispersed when the cameraman is already up in your face, asking for an interview.

You sigh, “fine, I'll do this quick. Today was… complicated. I was uncomfortable, then comfortable. Then left behind and then perfectly fine right after.” The blinking red light still flashes as the man behind the camera isn't satisfied by your answer. “I'm fine.” You say with emphasis. “Don't you have a family to go home to?”

Huffing, smoke puffing out of your cold lips, you walk back towards your apartment while you walk carefully on wet pavement. Leaving the camera and the crew behind as you shut the door closed. And yet, the microphone still picks up the quiet sobs from behind the old door.

—

You stare at the scruff of your work shoes, the scratches glaring right at you. Your leather heels are a direct contrast to the white tiled floors that try to mimic expensive marble. But the indents and subtle square lines around it indicates that it's just regular tiles. The office lobby is quiet this early in the morning, the security guard munches on his breakfast burrito as he watches the news on his tiny TV. And the place hums with electricity, lights too bright against your exhausted eyes.

MJ came home in the early morning of Sunday, you woke up to the smell of sick and the sound of her hurling her entire stomach down the toilet’s drain. You couldn't just leave her be when you're afraid that she'd choke on her own vomit. So you stayed up when you should be sleeping in just to watch over her. When afternoon came, you thought that you finally had time to relax or do some chores, but with a very hangover MJ clinging to you as apologies spilled from her lips— you had to stay to comfort and reassure her. Of course that came with making food, mixing in the regular concoction for a hangover cure, and everything else that she needed. If it was anyone else, you wouldn't do that much, but MJ has been your friend since middle school. And without her you'd literally be homeless, she's a good friend. But sometimes you just wish your only problem with her was pushing her away from her toxic ex like back in highschool.

Your exhaustion can be read on your face, and as the camera crew arrives, and their bright lights hit your tired skin, you feel more fatigued than ever. Sighing, you don't even acknowledge them while you wait for the elevator doors to open. Your index presses the button three more times impatiently. The annoying twinkling elevator music seems a lot better compared to the glare of the camera lenses.

“Hey, morning, ice princess.” Harry comes into view, giving you a brief smile while he holds onto a cup of coffee. “You okay?”

“Morning.” You almost scoffed at his well meaning question. “Yeah, couldn't sleep last night.”

“That sucks,” he says as he sips his drink. You stare heavily at the cup, wishing you should've stopped by the coffee shop near your place before heading to work instead of braving the sleepiness. “I should've gotten you one.” Harry notices, winching at his own actions. “I'll get you a cup next time. A cappuccino with an extra shot, right?”

Your heavy eyes widen briefly, the lights making your expression more prominent. “You don't have to, really— wait, you know my coffee order?”

He chuckles, cheeks a bit flushed. “Of course, we're desk neighbours, and you always order the same thing whenever Miles asks for our coffee order.”

“I'll keep it down next time then.” You chuckle.

“Not what I meant, but you do type a little too loudly.” He nudges you playfully.

“Type louder you say? Sure, Harry.” Your joke earns a laugh from the brunette.

The elevator pings and the doors open to reveal the empty space. The walls are covered in reflective glass, it seems that you can't hide from your exhausted face as you step inside. Not even concealer or a blush could hide it.

You're joined by Harry and the documentary crew. Harry stands beside you, back straight as he glances at you for a second. You miss the look he has, but the cameras don't as they stand in front of the doors, facing you and Harry in a perfect frame.

“Oi, hold the door!” The familiar voice has your sleep fogged mind waking up that no amount of coffee could.

Shit. You look like shit and you're staring a bit too much at Hobie, whose lithe hand is holding onto the door. He's back in his office appropriate attire, still no tie though but at least it's a button up that's perfectly ironed that Miguel himself wouldn't even bat an eye at.

He mirrors your expression as he pants by the doorway. The black coat he has on fits him well, really well as it cinches his waist, and the long length of it seems to make him look taller even though he doesn't need the added height.

The cameras has the full view of you, Hobie and a very curious Harry, who looks at you then over to Hobie.

“Good morning, Hobie.” You say, slightly in a higher pitch than you thought it would be.

“Mornin’, love.” His expression softens, but returns to the nonchalant and unbothered look when he glances at Harry beside you. “Osborne.”

The lenses shift from Hobie's strained greeting to Harry's tight lipped smile.

“Brown.” Harry says with a flat tone. “Your shoes are untied.”

Hobie doesn't even glance down at his feet to check. You do, and it is indeed untied. “It’s called fashion, Osborne.” He replies with the same tone as he pushes through the crew to stand on your other side. The cold still clings to his shoulders, and his lashes flutter as he gazes at you gently. “Have you had breakfast yet, love?”

You shake your head while you feel both of their warmths encapsulate you. Cageing you in between them. “Not yet, but I'll probably just grab something from the vending machine.”

“The sandwiches there are shite.” Hobie nudges you as the doors close. “How about I order us a bagel from the deli across the street?”

“I can get us a coffee.” Harry adds, or interrupts more like. Hobie raises his chin, chest puffing up as they stare at each other while you're acting like their barrier. “How's that sound?”

“Or that tea you fancy.” Hobie tilts his head, eyes boring into Harry's skull.

You stare at Hobie then over to Harry, you feel like a referee. You might not be good at reading cues, or feeling the vibes of the room, but you're not an idiot, there's definitely something going on with the two. Looking into the camera, you see yourself in the lenses as you clutch your work bag tightly, and you see the crew's subtle grins behind their equipment.

You have to answer them or else they'll start offering you more food and drinks.

“Thanks, but I have a lot of work to do today, so maybe next time.” It's best that you decline both, you don't want to start something that you have no idea will end. Especially if your job could be on the line. And yet, they still stare at you, waiting on who's the lucky winner. “For— for both offers. I had a big dinner last night, and coffee makes me jittery this early in the morning.” A big fat lie on both statements.

“Right, next time then.” Harry takes it in stride, smiling softly at you.

“Of course, love, you know where to find me.” Hobie does too as he tugs gently at your coat sleeve. You give them both a friendly smile, tamping down any embers that might be setting fire under them.

The three of you realize that neither of you have pressed a button.

The crew's producer takes initiative, and the three of you give her an apologetic yet embarrassed smile.

The elevator shifts slightly before it starts to move. The whirr of the cables cut through the thick tension in the air.

“So, what did you do this weekend?” Harry asks, seemingly a taunt at Hobie that you can't confirm.

“Nothing much, just did some laundry. Boring stuff.” You answer, staring at the numbers atop the doors as it goes further up. You were supposed to do laundry, but they wouldn't want you to talk about how you had to scrub the bathroom clean of vomit.

“Well, I had a show with my band. Meal prepped for this week and visited a friend.” Hobie glances at you briefly with a mischievous glint in his eyes. Harry's jaw clenches at Hobie's reply. “I thought you were askin’ me too.”

“Oh, I was.” Harry smiles at Hobie but his smile doesn't quite reach his eyes. “I also visited a friend, picked her up from walking in the cold.” Your face falls at the memory, you didn't expect to be used as something to taunt and provoke someone, but here you are— shoulders slumped and frowning deeply. “Thanks for the hot chocolate by the way—”

The doors ding open and you don't waste time in leaving the elevator with a downturned head as you look at the scruff of your shoes once again.

“Shit.” They both say, and again, the cameras capture their faces as the door closes on them, not giving the two enough time to get off.

The camera gets a glimpse of them trying to get out before the doors shut.

—

You stare at your computer screen like you want it to spontaneously combust right in front of you. The sounds of keyboards clacking and the whirr of the building’s vents has you more than irked, especially at what transpired this morning. The bullpen is quiet, the air smelling of carpet conditioner and printer ink that someone spilled a few hours ago. Your nose itches, tinnitus acting up as you heavily gaze on the excel and blinking lines.

The muscles in your fingers are stiff against the keyboard, face unreadable while the stress of work and you being caught in the crossfire has your eye twitching against the harsh lights. You have no idea what's going on between the two, but you know what happened in the elevator was unnecessarily uneasy for you. Awkward is an understatement.

Lunch has passed by, and you stayed at your desk throughout it without a single glance at the cafeteria in your peripheral. Opting to eat a pack of biscuit that was just intended for a snack. Your stomach keeps reminding you that you have missed breakfast and lunch. You can't wait for the day to be over.

The sound of the familiar clanking wheels of the mailcart doesn't even have you lifting up your head from your report. To the disappointment of Hobie and to Harry's glaring satisfaction.

You've seen Hobie and Gwen doing their rounds with the mailcart, Hobie gave you his usual smile when he handed you your package for the day. And Gwen came to apologize for what happened last weekend even though it was unnecessary. They were both met with your customer service smile and tone of voice. Partly because you're still frustrated at what happened, and because of the elevator when the two men used you as a way to get back at each other— for whatever they're dealing with. Whatever it is, you've decided to stay away from it. Or until you can't ignore Harry's guilty eyes, Hobie's strained face, and the trio's puppy dog expression whenever they pass by your side of the bullpen.

You really don't mean to be an ass to them, but the ridiculous amount of work you have and your tiredness, coupled up with your grumbling stomach, anyone would be behaving like you.

To you it's literal torture to ignore your friends the whole day, for the documentary crew— it makes good TV.

The sound of crinkling paper and the scent of spice has you looking up from your computer. You see the green wrapping of a sub teetering dangerously on top of the divider. The packaging almost bursting at the seams from the hearty sandwich.

Harry's green eyes peek over the wall, hand inching towards the sandwich as he places a bundle of napkins on it like he's about to steal a diamond from its laser protected case.

“Don't mind me, just delivering you lunch.”

“Harry,” you can't help the smile appearing on your lips. “What are you doing?”

“I hope you like cold cuts and cheese.” His voice is slightly muffled by the divider, eyebrows raised as his eyes smile. You blink at him, head tilted. “I noticed that you haven't had lunch yet, so I bought you a sandwich.”

“Thank you, that's very thoughtful of you.” You reach for the sub, standing up from the chair for the first time in hours. It has the shape of you indented on the plush seat. You meet with Harry's eyes, lighting up as he gazes at you. “How much do I owe you, Harry?”

His head leans back, like he's taken aback by your statement. “One penny.”

“I have to pay you back, y’know.” You glance to your left, finding that the camera has you and Harry in its sights.

“Says who?”

“I do.” You chuckle at his feigned innocence.

“How about you pay it forward next time? Just not to me.” His index taps at the top of the divider as he smiles sweetly at you.

“Fine, but I still owe you for the gas—”

“Sorry, busy busy busy.” He sits back down, hands dramatically typing randomly on his keyboard.

“Harry.”

He picks up the silent phone, “Hello, Harry Osborne here, yes, absolutely.” His eyes look up to you with a subtle smile, placing his index right on his lips, shushing you, and then pointing at the phone's receiver.

With a roll of your eyes, you return to your seat, hands immediately unwrapping the sandwich.

The camera zooms out and moves over to the doorway where Hobie stands there with a brown paper bag while looking in the direction of your desk.

His eyes flick over to the camera, jaw tightening and eyes hardening as he stares right into the lenses. “What of it?” Tossing the paper bag into the trash, he walks away only to immediately double back and fish it out and grumble back towards the mailroom with a huff.

—

The clock finally ticks to five, and you release a sigh of relief the second you send the very last report you needed to finish for today. Without sparing another second wallowing in your seat, you stand up and collect your things.

“Hey, Y/N.” Pavitr’s voice makes you look towards the side, where the trio and an unfamiliar face joins them. His hands are on top of Gwen and Miles’ shoulders, pushing them towards you. “We just want to say sorry about what happened.”

“That's okay, Pav, I already forgave them. And again, it's not really their fault.” You chuckle nervously at the small crowd gathering around you.

“But I haven't.” He says sternly, pushing Gwen and Miles towards you further. “Apologize to Y/N.”

“I already did, Pav—” Gwen squeaks out but Pav nudges her. “Okay, I'm sorry. I feel like shit that the band left you. And since the band isn't here, we're apologizing for them. That was a shitty thing to do.”

“It's really okay—”

“I'm sorry too.” Miles interrupts, frowning deeply, brows knitted together out of guilt. He looks like he's going through it, and probably doesn't need the coaxing from Pavitr. “I heard you had to walk out in the rain.”

“Apology accepted, for both of you— you really don't need to. Hobie and I already talked about it and it's fine.” You hold your hands out to them in a way to calm, and Gwen guiltily takes your hand briefly. “I'm fine, you guys weren't even there.”

“Still, we feel guilty and responsible for it.” Miles mumbles out and Gwen nods along. “If we were there, we would have reminded them.”

“It doesn't seem fine.” The unfamiliar co-worker adds beside Pav. “I'd be livid. I'm Gayatri by the way.” She holds out her hand in greeting, smiling gently at you.

“Hi, it's nice to finally meet you.” You take her hand and shake it, mirroring her smile. “I've heard a lot about you through Pavitr.”

“And I heard a lot about you, through Hobie mostly.” She shrugs with a chuckle. Pav gives her a look, and she takes his hands off of the two and intertwines her fingers with his own. “Anyway, you're cool, because obviously I'd be livid.”

“Oh, I was, for a bit. But it's really alright, alcohol was the real culprit.” It's a half truth, you're still bummed about it, but you'll get over it eventually. For now, you just want to lie down on your bed and sleep.

As you gather your things, the interns still seem to doubt you. You're about to put on your coat but Miguel's voice rings out into the bullpen.

“Meeting now.”

“Now?” Lyla’s head pops out from the doorway, already halfway out of the office.

“Yes, now.” With every footstep from Miguel, the almost hidden groans of your co-workers echo around the office. Including yours.

“I have homework, man.” Miles stomps over to the conference room, while Gwen verbally protests by loudly putting on her backpack with all the charms clinking on it.

“This is why I got a B in advanced chem.” Pavitr grumbles but follows the two, he looks over to his girlfriend when she doesn't follow. With a simple look, he continues to cross the distance and waits by the doorway for Gayatri as she pokes at your bag.

“Are you really okay?” Her eyes are soft, you can feel that her concern for you is genuine. She has that air around you that helps you feel at ease with just a look. “I was going off in our group chat after I learned about it. Ned, Yuri and James have a week until they apologize to you or I'll give them shit during band practice.”

“Yeah, I'm over it.” A half lie. “And they barely know me, it's really okay.” Another lie. It wouldn't hurt for them to apologize. Is it mean for you to want them to apologize?

“Yeah, that's why they need to say sorry because they barely know you.” You open your mouth but she immediately shuts you down. “And don't say that it's fine, or okay. That was horrible, you were alone at a shady bar during happy hour. If the cameras weren't there… I don't know, I think you and your roommate need to talk. I wouldn't forget a friend like that, even if booze was involved.”

You blink at her, nodding in agreement. “I think you're right. I can see why Pav loves you so much. You lay it on thick.”

She pats your arm, chuckling. “I'm always right.”

“I’ll talk to her when I get home.” You sigh, fists tightening as you enter the conference room.

“Well, if you need anything, I'm always in accounting.” She taps your back as Pavitr wraps an arm over her shoulder, letting you inside first as they follow behind.

“She likes to take strays, don't mind her.” Hobie suddenly sidles up to you, hands tucked inside his pockets as he whispers to you. “I blame the saviour complex.”

Gayatri heard his comment as she whacks him over the head. “Shut it, Hobie.”

He holds onto the back of his head, chuckling while Pavitr laughs along. “‘m jus’ sayin'”

“Are you calling me a stray, Hobie?” Your words make him falter, stammering out but no coherent words come out. It was a joke on your end, but you can't hide the amusement from his reaction.

“Now you've done it.” Pav smacks Hobie's chest while Gayatri pulls you away from the punk and towards the seats in the back of the room.

“I didn't mean it that way.” Hobie's voice is a tone higher, wincing at his previous words. “I jus’ meant—”

A loud clearing of throat takes his attention, and Miguel sends him a glare as a warning. Hobie huffs, surprisingly not saying any rhetoric as he sits down wordlessly beside you with the rest of the interns on your right.

“It was a joke by the way.” You whisper to him, side glancing at Miguel, who stands at the helm of the room.

Hobie pinches the bridge of his nose in an attempt to hide his smile. “You got me there, love.”

“Seriously, we're okay, Hobie. I hate that we're being awkward now.”

“I missed you at lunch today. I thought, y’know...” He shrugs, whispering back to you as more people filter inside the room. The cameras stand by the sidelines, bright lights and lenses roaming around the different faces. You're just glad you're not the only one they're focusing on right now.

“I had a ton of work so I couldn't join the lunch club today. Sorry for making you feel horrid.” You say genuinely, hoping to put a close on what happened last weekend. As much as you disdain what happened, you can't lose a friend because of it.

Hobie turns his head towards you, smiling fondly as his hand pat the back of yours. “You can never make me feel horrid, love.”

Your heart leaps in your chest from the close proximity. “We'll s–see. I mean, we're still new friends.”

“I hope we never get to see it then. You might break my tiny heart.”

“Your heart is far from tiny, Hobie Brown.” You nudge him with your shoulder, smiling as you return your attention towards Miguel, who's looking more tired than ever. “So far I've seen nothing but kindness from you.”

“Fuckin' hell.” He mutters under his breath, eyes refraining from looking into your own. “Go easy on me.” He holds onto his chest, head thumping on the wall.

You chuckle at his dramatics. “What does that mean?”

Before he could answer, Harry slides on the seat in front of you. “Hey, princess.” He says with the same demeanor he sported when he picked you from the curb.

“Hi, Harry.” You smile back at him as he side glances Hobie. He turns his back from you, still smiling.

“Princess?” Hobie says with an irked and disgusted tone. The interns turn to him, all sharing the same look that you're not privy to.

“It’s better than newbie, I guess. It's just a nickname.”

“...Sure.” Hobie eyes the lunch club, then over to the cameras with the same uneasy look.

“So, is everyone finally here?” Miguel gruffly days from the front. “I know you all want to go home, but today has been too busy to sneak this meeting in. So Jess and I will make this quick—”

“Holy shit, you two are dating!” Peter says from his seat, gasping in surprise.

“What, ew, no. I'm married, Parker.” Jessica shows her ring, rolling her eyes at Peter. “You knew that. You were at my wedding, idiot.”

“Right, I forgot.” He chuckles, scratching his head. Meanwhile Miguel is mouthing the word ‘ew’ with a questioning look.

“Anyway, Jess is here to talk to you about the company holiday party.” Miguel side steps and gives Jessica the floor.

“As always, I'm the unfortunate soul who has to organise it.” She sighs, “For the new employees, we always have a little party before the holiday break starts. There's gonna be a secret Santa, we'll pick names tomorrow since it's already late. And it'll be a potluck so I'll be assigning what you need to bring to prevent people from just bringing drinks.” She looks towards Lyla.

“That was one time! And everyone was well hydrated!” Lyla defends herself while Peter shakes his head. Jess calls out names and what they would bring.

Hobie snickers next to you, and you whisper to him. “What did you bring that year?”

“Punch.” He says with a chuckle. “There was a line in the loo the whole bloody time.”

“That's a terrible party.”

“We were all starvin’, in the end Miguel got us a dozen pizzas or else people would riot. Which ‘m not opposed to.”

“I would join in, honestly.” You tap his hand, and he returns the gesture with another tap on your pinky. Jessica calls your name, and you almost jump in your seat. “Y–Yes?”

“Do you mind bringing in some holiday cookies or cupcakes?”

“Oh, I don't mind. Are sugar cookies alright?” You unconsciously play with the frayed edges of your sleeve.

“Fine by me, just no nuts, Miguel's allergic.” Jessica continues to call out names and food while reading her list. “Hobie and Harry— H and H, can you two bring some drinks in?”

The two glance at each other pointedly. “Sure.” They both say with clenched teeth.

“Good,” she nods and closes her notes. “Oh and Y/N,” your heart stops. “Can you help me with the decorations on the day?”

“Yeah, of course.” You nod enthusiastically, relieved that it wasn't a reprimand, making Hobie beam at you.

Unbeknownst to you, Gwen looks behind the rest and over to you just to give Hobie a teasing gaze. The cameras capture it all perfectly while Jess gives the floor back to Miguel.

“Right, thanks Jessica.” Everyone begins to stand up even before Miguel could even end his sentence. “We're not done yet,” he points at Hobie, and at first you thought he was pointing at you, making your eyes widen. “You wanted to say something quick, Hobie?”

The room groans in disappointment as they sit back down with a resounding squeak from the chairs.

“Right, the lot of you want to go home, I'll make this quick.” He stays standing up, casually speaking to the whole room with nonchalance that passes off as confidence. “There's a few of you ‘ere who haven't signed yet with the union. As your rep, I have to make sure that you all know that we exist.” His eyes glance over to Lyla, and everyone follows his line of sight.

“Don't look at me! I'm a union girlie but the big man says I can't explicitly say it.” She accusingly points at Miguel, and everyone turns to him.

“Not me, the other big man.” He sighs tiredly.

The scene shifts to him giving an interview near the elevators. “I’m vice president of the union. Everyone keeps forgetting that.” He says with disdain.

The clip comes back to the conference room in the present with everyone listening in on Hobie.

“—the new hires are ‘encouraged’—” he almost rolls his eyes at the company friendly word. “to join the union so you have protection jus’ like the rest of us, yeah?” Hobie clasps your shoulder, smiling at you. “That's it, the lot of you go home.” With Hobie's closing remarks, people leave their seats without another grumble.

“Wait— I haven't said anything yet—!” Miguel tries to say something but everyone leaves the conference room.

Hobie turns to you, hand cupping your elbow as he helps you off your seat. “That includes you, princess.” He says the nickname with a slight scoff.

“I didn't know you're our union rep.” You say as he guides you out of the room. “That's really cool.”

“I did it for the birds.” He walks backwards towards the mailroom to probably grab his things and to quickly rejoin you in the elevator.

“The birds?” You chortle out

Hobie bites his lip, hands placed inside his pockets as his back hits the wall. “The ladies.”

“Ah.” You nod with an amused smile. “Of course, that usually makes us all weak in the knees.”

“Right?” With a smirk, he turns back around to prevent himself from smacking to another wall or worse, a window.

“I thought it'll never end.” Harry appears next to you, already in his coat and messenger bag slung over his shoulder.

“Hey, thanks for the sandwich again.” You smile as he shrugs.

“Just like I said, no problem. You need to remember to eat sometimes or you'll get sick. We can't afford to lose our best quality assurance agent, hm?” He nudges you, palm lingering on your bicep for a second longer.

“I'll remember next time, don't worry.” You give him a wobbly smile.

“D’you need a ride home?” He glances at the elevators. “I heard it's gonna rain again.”

You shake your head with a polite smile. “No need, I'll be fine. Thank you though.”

“Sure, take care.” With a grin and another pat on your shoulder, he leaves.

“Y–You too!” You call back, and he turns to you, giving you a two finger salute while walking away.

“Boo!”

“Fuck!” You shriek, hand on your chest while Lyla snorts next to you.

“Sorry, I didn't know you were such a scaredy cat.” She tilts her head playfully. “Anyway, how are you doing so far?”

“Uh, good.” You swallow down your thumping heart. “Workload is tough but I'll survive.”

She hums, nodding along. “Yeah, good. Also what do I hear about you and…” she pauses, looking around the near empty office, and you think she's gonna say Hobie as you bite down your anxiety. “Harry.”

“H–Harry?”

“Yeah, I heard from the interns that he gave you a ride home from the bar? Sounds serious and definitely something that the HR should know.” Lyla fist bumps your shoulder awkwardly. “Y’know, just in case there's a conflict with your relationship with him and work.” You try to get a word in but she continues. “I'm not against it, oh no not me, and he's kinda cute so good on you. I'm just warning you that you two need to tell me and sign a little something, something. Nothing major, just a contract telling us that your relationship won't hinder you from doing work and we're not liable for any heartbreak that could occur—” she grabs your elbow like she's already reassuring you for the inevitable. “— not like there would be any heartbreak in your future with him.” She chuckles a bit nervously.

“We're not together.” You say matter-of-factly.

“Oh,” she blows a raspberry. “Right, well, mystery solved!” With a pat on your arm, she leaves you be. “Have a good night!”

You huff, going back to your desk to retrieve your things and go towards the elevators only to find Hobie waiting there for you.

“Thought I lost you to the ghost janitor.” He smiles, leaning against the doors as he smirks at you.

You sigh while your hands grow clammy. “I'm not scared of that anymore— watch out!”

The elevator doors suddenly open and he falls right through it with a groan.

“‘m alright!”

—

A baseball hat is shoved right on top of your keyboard while you work on a spreadsheet. Your watery eyes gawk at the slips of paper all folded inside the hat. The scene reminds you of secret santas and white elephant parties back in school.

“It's not gonna pick itself.” Jessica leans against the table, neat brows raised up in question.

“Right, sorry, you just caught me off guard.” You chuckle nervously, intimidated by your boss as you dip your hand inside the hat. Feeling for a random one, you fish it out of the hat. You don't read it just yet.

“I see you're working hard.” She smiles, nodding at your screen. “Good job on the Metropolis report by the way, keep it up.”

A sigh escapes you as your eyes twinkle at Jessica. “T–Thank you. I appreciate that.”

“‘Course, just don't work too hard, you're making the rest of us look bad.” With a chuckle and a shake of the hat, she leaves. “Oh, wait.” Turning back around, you pause from unfolding the slip of paper. “Don't forget, we have a maximum price for the gift.”

“Okay, thanks for the reminder.” You awkwardly wave her off as her heels clack on the floor.

“Hey,” Harry whispers, eyes peeking over the cubicle dividers as he knocks rhymically, one that you're familiar with but can't quite put your finger on. “Who’d you get?”

“I don't think we're supposed to say.” You whisper back with an amused smile.

“I didn't take you for a rule follower, princess.” He smiles, now standing up to look at you fully. “Please?”

You shake your head with a quiet chuckle. “No.”

He sucks in his teeth, but his smile stays. “You're no fun.”

“I haven't even read it yet.” With a playful roll of your eyes, you unfurl the paper, expression suddenly falling flat as you read the big printed letters— Hobie Brown. “Oh.”

“Is that ‘oh’ good or not? Shit, did you get Miguel?”

His voice falls on deaf ears as you feel your nerves rushing in, blood filling your ears like you're about to skydive. It seems that Hobie has had that effect on you recently. With an exhale, you pocket the slip of paper inside your blazer pocket.

“I think it's the former.” You smile up at Harry, looking curiously at you. “I'm not gonna tell you my secret Santa, Harry.”

He dramatically deflates to show you his disappointment as you grin at him. “Fine, well I'm not going to show you mine.”

“I don't even want to know yours.”

“Ouch, okay, mean.” He holds his chest like he's been shot through the heart. “Oh, yeah, good on you with that report. You even got Jessica's approval.” With a thumbs up, he slowly slinks back to his seat.

“Thanks, Harry.” Your words waver as you take the paper from your pocket and read it again as if you hallucinated the name on it.

The familiar whirr of the camera lenses enter your space, zooming in on the print. You immediately turn towards it, glaring and frowning. “Really? Even that?”

Jericho the cameraman nods, giving you an apologetic tight lipped smile. You're starting to really hate cameras right now. If it didn't cost you your job, you would've yanked the microphone in your shirt already. But you've got a bigger problem— what to give Hobie that he will surely like.

[narrators-journal]

hi!! I'm not so used to requesting so I hope I'm doing this right lol, but can I request for a modern au!senku x reader fic where the reader is very open about her crush towards senku but he acts indifferent to it (hes not), until he needs her to do a risky experiment and promises to give her a prize he knows she wants, and rewards her with a kiss that gets a little bit more intense than intended

If you do end up doing this js wanna say thank you sm in advance 😸

This took me so long to write lmao. I flip-flopped on how to go about this. Mostly the experiment Reader would help with and how far the kiss would go. I ended up not going too far, but I hope it’s still a fun read! I like how it came out at least hehe. I’ve been liking my writing recently, very happy about that. “You’re sure this is safe, right?” You asked, though you didn’t sound at all uncomfortable as you watched him stir together mystery liquids in a 500 ml beaker. After all, you didn’t hide how eager you were to just be by the leek-haired scientist, so you weren’t scared to chug whatever that concoction was for some attention. “About 40% sure, yeah.” Senku said with a casualty that almost made you giggle when contrasted against the fluffy pink headband with bear ears that he’d more than likely gotten from Yuzuriha’s makeup vanity to hold back the chunks of his hair that didn’t defy gravity. But, he held the beaker out to you at that point, and the time for giggles had passed. “And...I’ll be repaid for this, right?” You asked as you took the glass from him, those gorgeous ruby eyes as cold and uninterested as ever. Only locked onto you for the sake of watching you sip the windex colored drink with nothing but curiosity in them.

It was a very simple exchange, or, that was what Senku had assured you, at least. You drink a creation of his, report back to him every hour about any symptoms or ill feelings, and if you lasted the day, he’d reward you. Simple. A smarter person would have asked a few questions at least. A voice in your head pointed out once you’d sat down in one of the creaky woven chairs that Kaseki had taught the leek how to make. “What did it taste like?” Senku asked, his eyes still on you as you got comfortable. “Like orange-flavored cream soda.” You hummed with a smile that dripped with charm. Even as that voice continued in your head, Actually, scratch that. A smarter person probably wouldn’t have kept this crush for so long in the first place. Let alone agree to this just for some attention.

Yet, there you were. Sat off to the side of the formaldehyde-and-alcohol-scented lab. Dutiful in the way that you reported every twitch in your eyes or ache in your back every hour. And, outside of the occasional question to check your cognitive abilities, you might as well have been a catch-all side table. Though, that wasn’t a bad thing to be, because you were a side table who got to watch the way Senku seemed to glare at his work when he was focused, or the small twitches of his mouth when he made progress on one of his many varied projects. It was adorable.

Eventually, though, the scientist returned his attention to you. “You still feeling okay?” He asked, and when you nodded he got a soft smile as he stood up to come over to your wicker chair with a pen light in hand and a stethoscope. “Any heart issues? Burning? Heat in general?” He asked while he shone the light into your eyes to watch how your eyes reacted, then moved onto your heart when you shook your head with a simple ‘no.’ And, after a moment, he seemed satisfied with what he found.

With that, he straightened and let his hands rest on his hips as those gorgeous eyes studied you a moment further before he spoke again. “I suppose you’d like your payment, then?” That smile that had haunted him now clearly on his face as you raised an eyebrow and swallowed the anxiety that bubbled into your throat. “I mean...yeah? But why do I feel like I’m going to be scammed?” Yet, the scientist only rolled his eyes at that question and leaned down to rest his weight on the arms of the chair you sat in. His face close enough for you to wish the chair’s back had given out. That way, you could’ve put more distance between you and him before your cheeks began to burn. “Just close your eyes. Or else I’ll change my mind.” Well that’s ominous as fuck. You thought, but you bit the comment back and simply did as you were told before he kept true to his word.

On the bright side, at least, you weren’t left to wait more than a few heartbeats before Senku’s lips were on yours. Jarringly harsh, it was clear he hadn’t kissed people before. It was sloppy, and it took a moment for him to ease up, but once you registered what he had done, you eagerly kissed back. And, before you knew it, your arms were around his shoulders and the kiss had been deepened to a full on make-out.

Though, it only lasted a moment before Senku pulled away and straightened back up. His pale face almost as red as the eyes that refused to meet yours as he wiped his mouth and shoved out, “There. Now be gone. You’ve taken up enough of my time.” “You’re the one who asked me to be here, that’s not my fault.” You countered, but he just tugged you out of the chair and herded you out of the lab and into the early darkness of night. Your only company the flutter that lingered in your chest and the heat on your cheeks. Which, brought a smile to your face as you just about skipped home.

[thejayviksterekalliance]

Stiles Stilinski: Pre-Season 3B Era

Meet Mieczysław "Stiles" Stilinski. He comes from a Polish family and hid name is pronounced "Mitch-E-Slav", or that's what my ear hears, so forgive me if I got the pronunciation wrong. It means "glorious sword".

For anyone who has not watched the show, you are lucky. We didn't find out his first name until the final season of the show, so your welcome.

In my "Beacon Hills" post I let you know that his father is the Sheriff. His mother died before he was 10 of a disease called frontotemporal dementia. It can be passed down genetically. (More on that later.) His dad had a rough go for a while and took a swim into the bottle for a bit but found a way through and has not touched a drink of his own volition since then. Yeah...it was rough and Stiles still carries the emotional scars. He was diagnosed with ADHD as well. Put all of that together, it wasn't a bad upbringing, but it wasn't great either.

He and his dad have lot's of love for each other. Here are two examples out of many. Example 1 (It was not kids, but he did not want his dad to get tangled in the supernatural mess going on.) and Example 2 (Those Stilinski hugs are serious business).

Stiles is very smart and witty, sometimes too much so. Here are two examples of what I am talking about. Example 1 and Example 2.

The whole show started because he went to his friend Scott's house one night because he heard on the police scanner that there was a body found in the woods and he wanted to go check it out. That's when the murderer, a werewolf, bit Scott and boom there you go we have a teen wolf on our hands. (More on that later) I'm telling you plot, luck, and proximity are the only reasons Stiles didn't get bitten. (Oh how the werewolf wished it was Stiles, but more on that later.)

He had a girl he was crushing on for years named Lydia Martin.

He even had an active 5 year plan to finally get her to be his girlfriend even though at the time she was dating Big Man on Campus Jackson Whitmore.

Who happens to be the captain of the Lacrosse team both Stiles and Scott are on.

It's Stiles that pieces together that Scott is a werewolf. Stiles is a big movie buff so all the clues were there. He went out of his way to help train Scott to control his senses and see the limit of his strength. It was real funny. Scott and Stiles are best friends at this point and who knows where Scott would be without him.

His memory is so good that he actually remembers the tragedy that happened to the Hale family even though he was in single digits.

He and Derek do not get along at first. Seriously, Stiles was asking if they could kill Derek in a joking, not joking manner. Here is a fan art that adds to this point.

But through trial and tribulations, the aggressive tension waned (I know, fiesty lol).

When it comes down to it Stiles is not above breaking the law to help those he cares about. He can not stand the thought of losing anyone he cares about, to the point that he demands his father eat more salads to stay healthy, even though he himself will kill a sack of curly fries.

There is also another character that is so closely intertwined with Stiles, that's Roscoe his blue Jeep.

It belonged to his mother and now it is his and he loves Roscoe so much. But damned if he does not know how to maintain it. Check this out.

Oh and to the annoyance of myself and I am sure a lot of other Stiles fans, the show completely dropped a plot point that would have been awesome. I do believe Stiles can wield magic.

Remember how I mentioned the Nematon and there being a space under it? This is that space under that big stump and it's being held up by Stiles's metal bat to get his father out from under it. Movie magic right? Suspension of disbelief? There were other things before this and after that pointed to this new character development, including a druid telling him he has a Spark inside of him, but the show did not pursue that. I guess it's because it would have taken the focus off of the Teen Wolf.

**Mini rant. There were a whole lot of contenders that would have taken the spot light off of the main character, the Teen Wolf himself Scott McCall and rightly so. These threats to that spotlight were either slowly phased out or removed all together. Who knows what kind of show it would have been if the show actually followed it own internal logic. Ok mini rant over**

So anyway this is the brief rundown of this Era in the life of Stiles Stilinski.

Next...the Season 3B and Beyond Era...

Pain...

[tiktaaliker]

so. heres another one

this one took me like. probably >40 tries over the course of 4 days to get all the way through without tripping over anything too badly hence my little celebration at the end there lol

bit of backstory/context here: blackboxwarrior is my Ultimate Vocal Stim. its long and its complicated and i have a fucking AWFUL stutter so it takes some serious work to get all of it out which makes it perfect for me. you might notice that i start out relatively slow but by the end im going EXTREMELY fast. thats because this is what i also call a "momentum" song for me because there are a LOT of points where i cant help it but to speed up so if i dont start out slow it turns into vocal soup. which is typically ok for singing it under my breath but does NOT work for a recording. i also had all the vereses completely memorized but i had to reference the lyrics for the monologue- i think i have it memorized now tho because of how many attempts this took haha

[sariastrategos]

Lololol I’m glad it’s good eating!

So House of Hux!

They’re a newer house, and though they are all fashion, perfect looks and top notch shoes now, in the beginning they were a much scrappier house. They worked hard, took gigs anywhere they could get a spot and had to repurpose loads of thrift store finds just to get something together. There was a lot of sharing, it wasn’t uncommon to have the same wig restyled quickly in the back three times in a night because it was the best they had. Aching feet from sharing shoes that weren’t quite the right size, clips and pins to reshape dresses into different silhouettes/sizes.

With a lot of work and YouTube tutorials, they were able to learn styling, watched every fashion show they could, scoured cotoure websites until they were able to make even the thrift shop finds look high fashion with a little creativity. There was a lot of glue gun work, Hux’s fingers are almost burnt numb at the tips from pressing down pleats and hems.

What really sold them was their performances. After enough top quality shows at low level bars, they were able to climb up the establishment chain, earning more money and more recognition. They were able to buy more things, better fabrics, their own shoes, eventually they were able to start buying their gowns and have barely looked back since.

Hux made sure they can all do the basics and some minor adjustments but for the most part they focus on presentation, performance and fashion. No one serves like they do with sleek elegance and polished shows.

He is the designer and choreographer of the house while Mitaka excels at makeup and Thannisson with wigs. They may buy most things these days but they all work together to finish a look, just like in Ren’s house.

Learning the origins of Hux’s house and seeing what he could do in a pinch when his fabulous gown got half torn when someone stepped on it backstage is what really got Ren to maybe give him an ounce of respect. He watched as Hux grabbed another queens’ glue gun, took off his gloves with his teeth and just went to work repairing the seams that had been torn, heedless of the pain so long as it worked. He’s shook when he sees him touching up his nail polish with Sharpie because hey, it just needs to look good from a distance but he NEVER thought he’d see a pageant queen use that trick. Kylo himself uses it often just because he likes the look.

Hux definitely pays the rent on time, he’s the guy with scheduled payments coming directly out of his account. REN’s house can barely remember to change the calendar page in the fridge and are always asking if anyone paid the bills lol. HoR is the pizza and beer in your boxers house, HoH is the brunch and mimosas in your best ‘I just murdered my third husband and got away with it’ dressing gown house.

THE STINKY OLD BASTARD MAN ALMOST TANKED THE ENTIRE HOUSE OF REN!! He got them kicked out of and banned from so many local clubs that they were going to have to move cities. He apparently never heard Ru say drag isn’t a contact sport and routinely started fights for the fun of it. And yeah, they all enjoyed a good brawl but now they have nowhere to perform so it comes down the to either Ren leaves or the entire house needs to relocate. Which would essentially be starting a house from scratch wherever they moved to but ALSO that’s the sort of rep that follows you.

So Kylo challenges him to a lip sync for the house, whoever wins has control. Obviously Kylo is the victor and Ren disappears. They suspect he’s made his way to Vegas but no one can confirm it. Kylo then has to work very hard to rebuild the bridges Ren burnt to get his house back in the good books.

aus where kylo ren is ben solo’s dragsona >>>>>>>

[babychosen]

save a horse (ride a cowboy)

8pm, Friday. Red dress. Booth near the end of the bar, by the dart board.

She forgot how demanding the text felt, but it had only encouraged her to want to show up even more.

[todayisafridaynight]

NO YOU’RE SO RIGHT ABOUT THE MAJIMA STUFF THOUGH. GOD. God forbid you speak poorly about the fandom silly guy etc etc. I rt’d one post about someone being annoyed abt majima getting an insane amount of merch (especially compared to other characters- even other PLAYABLE characters) and suddenly my TL is filled with ppl taking it as a personal attack….. like?? Settle down???

My one fear is that instead of Mine content we’re just gonna get Majima Saga 2 for yk3 and rgg will call it a day. WHAT ELSE IS THERE TO SAY ABOUT THE GUY !!! GENUINELY!!!

at this rate we’re going to have a complete record of Majima’s life from birth until modern day bc you knowww they’re never gonna let the cash cow die or retire. + god I lowkey need the 3jimas to break up Now so saejima and daigo can stand on their own again (w/out being overshadowed by Majima)…. Saejima especially… I miss the days when he felt like a character………

(I may have a lot to say on the topic) (he’s a fun character but at this rate I’m getting so sick of the fandom around him)

gen is kinda funny how when there's the Monthly Critique Of Majima post on twitter the rggtwt part of the tl is flooded with majima fans being upset. its like clockwork really LOL

as for saejima, i do miss him being solo... like he's funny with majima at times, but as wack as Y4 was i still really liked his coliseum scene, and his prison adventures in Y5 were a real treat too..

[autumnrory]

i've been going into the liam tag from time to time the last year where both his fans and people who hated him were Weird about him well before there were any allegations so i would get curious, i don't even remember what started it (maybe it was merely looking for photos that update accounts wouldn't post), but i normally try to avoid going into anything but edit tags for people i enjoy bc there are so many nonsense takes

and of course happening to go through today before the news broke bc i wanted to see what was being said about the abuse as i've only gotten bits on twitter and of course there were many posts rightfully calling it out and all but there's that weird mentality which i was getting a lot more of from twitter but some on here where they're like??? celebrating it and girlboss-ing and i'm just like. okay it's great that you're believing a victim but you're making light of it by talking about it like it's just another stan thing, i have seen that time and time again when this kind of stuff comes out and if people already thought that person was annoying or whatever they're just like "oh yes! i knew it! their career is ruined haha!" and it's like. you clearly don't actually care about the horrible things this person has done and just want to brag that you somehow ~knew~ a stranger's vibes were off and it's so beyond gross like you could use that energy to support a person's victims and instead you'll just try to prove you stan the right people and never the wrong ones or whatever

[unproduciblesmackdown]

in the power of Noticing Things The Xth Time Around the instrumentals-imitative "doot. doot. doot. dooWAH" vocals that kick in during the second verse of centerfold? superlative

[zoologica42]

Temperate Lake Dashboard Simulator

🐦‍⬛2xcrested_cormorant Follow Going to try and eat this weird fish

♻️🐦‍⬛2xcrested_cormorant Follow wilmdlife hopital

🐸rana-bufo Follow No one can ever truly understand what BULL4rog's music means to me 😭 this song in particular argrgrgrgrgrg the way he puffs out his vocal sack asdfghjk

BULL4rog: listen here on spotify ♻️🐸rana-bufo Follow I think I huave chytrid

🐟ilikeeatingminnowsFollow I just migrated here from finstagram please be nice

🐠powerbottomfeeder Follow

I have HAD IT with this lake, it’s the third day in a row we’ve had nitrates above 8 ppm and uug the algae, my allergies I can’t do this

♻️🐟carpy-diem Follow

Lol we regularly get nitrates up to 20 ppm in my lake ♻️🦞crawdaddy Follow uhhh you shouldn't be bragging about that, it's really unsafe ♻️🐟carpy-diem Follow suck it you little oligotrophic bitch

🐢snappturt Follow Dear Tumblr, am I the Basshole for the way I catch minnows? I was chatting with some of the guys I bask with and they said the way I catch minnows is problematic; What I do is I sit on the bottom of the lake, I hide myself in the mud and I open my mouth. My tongue looks a lot like a little worm so I wiggle it around- and because of that, minnows swim over and check it out. Once they get close enough, then I bite down and eat them. Some of my rockmates have told me that this is manipulative and toxic behavior- but they also eat minnows...I don't know guys...

🦆tree hole-nester-acorn-eater Follow

is it just me, or is this super homoerotic???

🐟bigpikexxl Follow liveblogging diving down to the bottom

♻️🐟bigpikexxl Follow dark

♻️🐟bigpikexxl Follow big log

♻️🐟bigpikexxl Follow rock

♻️🐟bigpikexxl Follow kinda cold

♻️🐟bigpikexxl Follow oh hi @deepwatersculpin!!!

♻️🐠deepwatersculpin Follow oh hey @bigpikexxl!!!

never thought i'd seen one of my mutuals irl!!! I didn't even know we lived in the same lake!!!

🐠Shadlad Follow I'm not sorry, and I'm not afraid to say it, if you're an introduced species, go dry yourself out. You're not welcome to eat up all of our resources and live in my ancestral longs and rock crags. These things are for us to relate to and not for you to squander.

♻️🦞crevice-steve Follow

Can't believe this type of fishcourse is still popular on this site, introduced species didn't choose to be introduced and have as much of a right to live as anyone else. Bigotry against introduced species is still bigotry and that's a hill I will dry on. ♻️🐠Shadlad Follow Go ahead, dry yourself out then ;) ♻️🪷nootnootnewt Follow Hey man, I hate invasive species as much as anyone else but please stop telling people to beach themselves for political reasons- yeah that includes inavsives too ♻️🦐typical_scud Follow Did you legit just use the word Invas*ve to describe introduced species? ♻️🦢flatfootswimmer Follow anyone in this thread eat pondweed?

♻️🐟largemouthbASS Follow A colab with my mutual @2xcrested_cormorant after they got released from the wildlife hospital. They haven't been on much since the Fish and Wildlife Service released them in the wrong lake and it took them a while to get back to their colony. We hope this guide will help you avoid accidentally eating/engaging with bait!

[rafesangelita]

♡ “jingle bell, jingle bell, jingle bell rock!” — in which you ride rafe speechless for being on the naughty list..

warnings: roleplay, dirty talk, established relationship, teasing, brief thigh riding, heavy petting, tit fucking, grinding, orgasm denial, rafe cries, slight degradation, unprotected sex, restraints (reader has rafe’s hands tied with a ribbon), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, dacryphilia, slapping, scratching, hair pulling

a/n: lol i feel like i should’ve done kinkmas..

“fuck, fuck, fuck..” rafe was cursing under his breath, your soaked cunt gliding over his cock while it sat on his tummy, your clit dragging up and down the underside of his length. “please, i need to be inside you, baby.” his voice came out weak, like it was taking everything in him not to blow his load right then and there. “naughty boys don’t get what they want.” you moaned, your hips stuttering as you merely used rafe to get yourself off. rafe’s head thudded against the headboard, his jaw slack as he reveled in the feeling of you grinding on him.

“please, i’ll be good, i promise!” he gasped when you raked your nails down his chest. “yeah? you said that last year..” your laugh was nothing short of degrading, your boyfriend feeling utterly helpless as his hands were bound above his head. when the band in your stomach suddenly snapped, you were quick to move off of rafe’s cock and onto his thigh where you started dragging your hips instead. this way, he couldn’t feel the way you desperately clenched around nothing. “ohh, fuck! you’re cumming?” you ignored him, your legs trembling as your orgasm had you whimpering to yourself.

rafe squirmed, his cock aching with need as you rode out your high against his stiff muscles. “this is the only thing you’re good for, you know that?” you looked up at him, his eyes glazed over as his cheeks flushed with color. “yes, i know. i’m only here to make you feel good..” his abs constricted as he watched you get up on shaky legs, anticipation settling in his belly as you put your hair up in a ponytail. “poor rafe, your cock looks like it’s just begging for attention.” you cooed, seating yourself between his thighs.

leaning down, rafe shuddered when you took him in your hand. “i shouldn’t let you be inside me at all.. but if you’re good for me i might just let you.” sitting him between your tits, you looked up at him as you stroked him, your tongue lapping at his tip every time he emerged from the valley of your breasts. “holy fuckkk,” he hissed, “oh, it feels so good.” you taunted his whines, your tits glistening with his slick. “i’m not gonna— shit, i’m not gonna last.” he shook his head, eyebrows knitting together as his face morphed into one of full blown pleasure.

upon hearing this, you sped up your pace until he was crying out, almost completely falling off the edge before you stopped all movements, heavy tears running down his cheeks as this was the third orgasm you denied him tonight. seeing him cry out of frustration turned you on beyond belief, each tear a testament to how bad you had him wrapped around your pretty little finger. swinging a leg over his hips, you straddled him once again before pulling a handful of his hair. “look down, handsome, i want you to watch the way you fill me up..”

rafe’s hair was still threaded between your fingers when you sunk down unto him, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as your heat wrapped around him. letting go of his hair, rafe hissed when you softly ran your hands down his torso, your nails digging into his skin while you sat still on top of his lap. “please do something..” it was torture being inside of you without being able to fuck you senseless. so bad, he wanted to at least have his hands on your hips, the globes of your ass looking so enticing.

“are you going to be good?” rafe nodded frantically, his chest rising and falling as he desperately muttered a ‘yes, i’ll be so good for you!’ you don’t know what possessed you to do it, but without a second thought, you slapped rafe across the cheek, the action stunning him for a moment before a hint of a smile played on his lips. the fucker liked it? oh, he was in for it now. leaning forward, rafe attempted to get one of your tits in his mouth before you smacked him away, sinking down on him once again. he shivered, gazing up at you as you started rocking on top of him.

the globes of your ass smacked his thighs, his eyes watching you mesmerized. you felt too good whenever you rode him like this, your clit hitting his pubic bone everytime you slammed back down. you were so wet, the sound reverberating in the empty space of your shared bedroom. “wanna touch you..” he groaned when you started bouncing on him faster, the familiar tension starting to coil in his abdomen. “aww, well that’s just too bad.” you leaned down, pressing a kiss to his lips. “m’gonna cum, baby, please i need it!” he all but whined, eyes screwing shut as you threw him over the edge of pure euphoria.

he came harder than he ever had in his life, the force of his climax hitting him like a truck. rafe was writhing beneath you, pathetic noises leaving his lips as he painted your insides white. “o-oh my fucking— nghhh, god!” he was in full on hysterics, tears falling down the corners of his eyes as you didn’t make any attempt to slow your movements. “baby— slow down, please, please, please..” he hissed, overstimulation kicking in. you smiled at him briefly, feeling your second orgasm of the night lick your tummy as it was just in arm’s reach.

eyebrows knitting together in pure unadulterated bliss, you cried out, leaning down and pressing kisses to rafe’s chest as you came, your velvety walls sucking him in as you clenched around the welcomed intrusion that was his cock. how rafe hadn’t ascended into the after life yet? he didn’t know. surely he was in heaven already, his vision fuzzy as he blinked, dazed and extremely fucked-out. rafe helplessly kissed the crown of your head, your attention flittering up to his restrained hands. once you weren’t trembling in the aftershocks of your orgasm, you reached up, untying the knot that rafe’s wrists were currently binded in.

his arms were like jelly when they fell, a sigh of relief escaping his lips as you gently ran your fingers through his hair. “if that’s the ‘punishment’ for being naughty, i think i might just act up all year—” you laid down next to him, allowing him to pull you close before you interrupted him. “don’t even think about it.”

[neriyon]

Hawu'li has 2 older brothers (Hawu'a & Hawu'to), 5 older sisters (mostly unnamed) and 2 younger sisters (also unnamed), because I really wanted to stick with the miqo lore of males being kinda rare even in bigger families.

With Hawu'a he's kinda... not that close but not really fighting or anything either? Hawu'a's a nice enough guy, but a lot older and, as is customary, left home when Hawu'li was still very young so they never really bonded that well.

Hawu'to he is a lot closer with! Hawu'li used to follow him around a lot when Hawu'to still lived home, always asking his big bro to read him books and stuff haha. They had some quarrels as kids ofc, mostly whenever Hawu'li tried to mediate things between his older brothers (Hawu'a and Hawu'to do NOT get along), and kinda lost contact after Hawu'to moved to study in Old Sharlayan. With Endwalker MSQ events they met again after years and are currently kinda getting to know each other again, with Hawu'li agreeing to help him out with N'jinh by taking him along with him to Tural.

With his older sisters relationships vary a bit, but most are somewhat friendly with Hawu'li. The 3 older ones who chose to stay home with their mother he doesn't have that much contact with outside occasional letters, but are mostly friendly when Hawu'li does show up to visit. And the 2 that have left their home to start their own lives are a lot closer to Hawu'li, writing regularily, and whenever he's home in Lavender Beds, stop by to visit.

The 2 younger ones are pretty close to him too - teen Hawu'li was kinda the appointed babysitter of the family, since he was mainly in the way during hunting trips. Hawu'li used to pamper them a lot haha, making stuff like hair accessories or little outfits for toys for them whenever they asked. They are the ones that most wait for his visits home these days, often curious to hear of his travels.

9/17/24

Does your wol(oc) have any siblings? What is the relationship like?

[nikkento-writes]

Babysitter - Part 1

Pairing: dad!Toji x babysitter!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~1.7k

cw: age gap (reader is 21, Toji is in his 30s), language, cheating, smut – PIV sex (doggy style), breeding kink, daddy kink

Summary: You're hired to babysit little Megumi for the summer, but you end up taking care of his father, Toji, as well.

Author’s Notes: This is repost from my old blog! I initially got this as a request and it became my first Toji fic ever, and certainly not my last lol. I'm posting this again because I actually wrote a Part 2, check it out! Thanks for reading! Divider credit to @/fic-dumpster.

You stand in front of a quaint house, checking your watch for the time. It’s been almost ten minutes now since you knocked, no answer. You gave the number from the listing a call, still nothing. Rolling your eyes, you take a seat on the steps leading to the door, waiting.

It’s the summer before you head back to university for your senior year. In an attempt to make some extra cash, you took a job as a babysitter through local ads in the paper. The first two clients were completely normal; this one is already leaving a bad taste in your mouth. 

Fifteen minutes have passed. You try once more, pounding on the door with your fist as loud as you can. Heel turned, ready to leave, it suddenly swings open, revealing a muscular man with black hair, glaring at you. “What the fuck do you want?” 

You step back, startled by his intimidating presence. Stuttering, you answer, “I’m the babysitter.”

He continues to stare at you, eyes following your body up and down, studying it. “Babysitter?”

Before you can explain any further, you hear a car rolling into the driveway. A woman in professional attire steps out quickly. “I’m so sorry I’m late!” She rushes towards you, holding her hand out to shake yours. “We spoke on the phone. I got stuck in traffic, I’m so sorry.”

You smile at her. “It’s okay.”

She faces the man, expression switching from cheery to dreary in an instant. “Toji, where is Megumi?”

He scratches his head. “Huh?”

“Megumi. Our child.”

He sighs. “Right. Uh, I’ll go get him.” 

While he’s gone, the woman pulls you aside, speaking in a hushed voice. “That’s Toji, my husband and Megumi’s father. Unfortunately, he’s a complete deadbeat. That’s why I want to hire you. I started my new job and I need someone to take care of Megumi while I’m gone during the day.”

She swallows hard, blinking to fight off oncoming tears. “I have no one. I’ve been shunned by my family, my husband doesn’t give a shit about ours, and I’m all alone trying to give Megumi a good life. I know this is a lot to ask, but I’m desperate. This is just until I can save enough money to hire a full-time nanny.”

She grips onto your wrist with both her hands, begging for help. Truthfully, it’s a lot to unravel, more drama than you anticipated. But the anguish in her eyes tugs at your heartstrings. Plus, knowing it’s temporary doesn’t make it seem so difficult. How bad can it be? “Okay. I’ll do it.”

Relief washes over her. “Oh thank god. Thank you. Thank you. Let’s go inside and I can give you a tour.” She leads you through the entrance, removing her shoes as you follow her. “Oh, and one more thing.”

“Sure.”

“Toji is home most of the day, but he’s always couped up in his room, doing god knows what. Just leave a meal or two outside his door twice a day. That should be enough.”

“Huh?!” 

She glances at you with a nervous smile on her face. “Yeah. I told you, he’s good for nothing.”

You don’t respond while you maneuver through the house, barely paying attention while she shows you around. It almost sounds like you’ll be babysitting two children…

~~~

The first two weeks of your new job go by smoothly. Megumi is an adorable baby; he’s almost two-years-old with hair as black as his father’s. While he never really smiles, he doesn’t cry either, expression usually stern, unless he needs a diaper change. He’s self-sufficient, always immersed by his own toys until it’s time to eat. Overall, he’s easy. 

Toji, on the other hand, is another story. 

You follow his wife’s instructions, leaving two meals outside his door, breakfast and lunch. And this asshole has the audacity to critique it! The bread wasn’t toasted enough. The eggs were too runny. There wasn’t enough seasoning on the meat. All this criticism while each plate is licked clean, not a crumb to spot. He’s never even uttered a simple thank you. 

But what he lacks in social skills or personality, he makes up for in his physique. In between meals, he works out in the living room lifting weights, doing push-ups, sit-ups, and pull-ups at the frame of the door. It lasts for over an hour, and by the end of it, he’s shirtless, dripping with sweat. You’ve done everything in your power to avoid staring but it doesn’t prevent your mind from conjuring all types of lewd thoughts about him. You’re ashamed to admit that he is physically attractive, only because everything else about him is utter trash. Still, it doesn’t hurt to look, right?

On the third week, there’s a shift in energy between you two. When he isn’t working out or going out to meet with his sketchy friends, he’s usually couped up in his bedroom, ignoring you and Megumi. This morning, he actually joins you in the kitchen. You stare blankly at him, stunned by his sudden appearance. Megumi is unfazed by his father as he tries to pull your wrist towards him to get a spoonful of mushed up peas. 

When he catches you, Toji glares. “What?”

“Um, nothing. Just surprised to see you here.” You clear your throat, focusing back on the baby. 

He rolls his eyes. “This is my house. I can do whatever I want.”

“Yes, of course. Sir.”

For some reason, this triggers him. He stands up abruptly, stepping to you, leaning his face towards yours. The scar on the corner of his lip twitches when he gives you a wicked grin. “That’s right. I’m in charge here.”

You flinch from him, scared, maybe even slightly aroused. He’s intense, that’s for sure. But part of you finds it exhilarating to be in his presence. 

Megumi whines for more food, to which Toji grabs the utensil from your hands to start feeding him. “Damn kid, he’s hungry all the fucking time.”

You sit up in your seat, regaining your composure. “You shouldn’t curse in front of children.”

He faces you, chuckling. “Curse? Seriously? What are you, five?”

You cross your arms, answering, “I’m twenty-one.”

“Interesting.” There’s that naughty smirk again, as if he’s thinking something obscene in that twisted head of his. And while you should be turned off, you’re not. You squeeze your legs together, pussy throbbing between your thighs. And of course, he notices this. He must, because he leans forward, lips grazing your ear, whispering, “Come by my room whenever Megumi is taking his nap. That’s an order.”

~~~

This is bad. Very, very bad. 

You're supposed to be better than this. Clearly, you aren’t, because you’re currently getting railed by your employer’s husband while his child sleeps peacefully in the next room.

“Fuck, this pussy is tight,” he groans, pumping his thick cock in and out of you. You’re bent over the edge of the bed, his hips smacking against your ass as he thrusts into you. He’s got a tight grip on your hips, nails digging into your flesh, pounding away at your greedy pussy, absolutely drenched with arousal and lube. Your face is sticky with perspiration, pillow soaked with sweat and drool. It’s a fucking mess, but it doesn’t matter, because all you can think about is Toji fucking you until you’re seeing stars. Until your head is empty and nothing but his fat cock is occupying your thoughts.

“God, you’re squeezing me so fucking hard, princess. You gonna come again?”

You nod erratically, reaching your fingers to your clit. He smacks it away, doing it himself, his thumb flicking against your swollen bud. “Fucking come on my cock then. Make it nice and creamy for me, got it?”

His cock is buried deep inside you, hitting your sweet spot over and over until you unravel, gushing around him once more. You’ve lost count on how many orgasms you’ve had in this short amount of time. 

After your climax, he doesn’t pull out, fucking you even rougher. Your body is pliant around him, yielding to his every touch like putty. You’ve lost control of yourself, completely enraptured in the intense pleasure he surrounds you with. 

He leans forward, chest pressed to your back, lips brushed to your ear. “I’m gonna knock you up. Give Megumi a little brother or sister. Would you like that?” He’s crazy. Completely unhinged. Absolutely fucking psycho. 

“Fuck yes, I want that,” you moan. “Give it to me, daddy. Breed me.” 

And apparently, so are you. 

“Oh fuck yeah, take my fucking cum then,” he growls. The bed creaks violently below you, his backshots brutal and frantic now, cock desperate for release. “I’m gonna get you fucking pregnant. Make you mine.”

He shoots his hot load inside you, stuffing you full of his cum. He doesn’t stop until he’s fucked it deeper into your pussy, watching with that sexy look on his face as his creamy cum leaks out of your slit.

Lifting you up to lay comfortably on the bed, he rolls beside you, kissing you sloppily until Megumi’s whimpers blare through the baby monitor, indicating that he’s awake. Toji laughs, smacking your ass as you crawl over him to return to your real job. 

~~~

You spend the remainder of your summer employed at the Fushiguro household until you have to go back to school. You and Toji continue to fuck each other silly every day that you’re working. 

The day before you leave for college, you say your goodbyes to the family. Megumi’s mom, who remains blissfully unaware of your sins, hugs you tightly. “Thank you so much for all your help. I’ve finally saved enough money to afford a full-time nanny, so we’ll be fine.” 

“It was my pleasure. I had a lot of fun. With Megumi,” you clarify, avoiding Toji’s gaze as he watches from the kitchen. 

“Seriously. You’re a good person. I hope you know that.” She smiles, truly grateful. “And thank you for taking care of my good for nothing husband too.”

As the guilt of this dirty, filthy secret eats away at you, Toji stares at you from across the room, smirking. 

[thebearer]

nothing in the world belongs to me |carmen berzatto x reader|

prompt: still new in your relationship, you show up to the bear for dinner unexpectedly, surprising carmen and the others.

based off this prompt from the other day :)

contains: fluff lol. really, it's just fluff. established-ish relationship (the others don't know). carmen being a little nervous and possessive but mainly cute <3 language.

“Alright, listen up,” Richie stood next to Sydney, flicking through the piles of tickets that were ringing through by the second. It was normal now, an expected task in their routine. “We need to walk the focaccia to table seven, please.” 

“Yes, Chef!” A chorus of nearly robotic voices rose from the sizzling hiss of the lamb searing in Carmen’s pan, lifting the spatula to tip the meat over, before giving it back to the chef on the line. 

“And for table nine, we’ve got a shellfish allergy, alright? So let’s triple check the cross contamination on that. T, can you handle that one?” Richie moved from his leather bound book of notes back to the ticket. 

“Yes, Chef!” Tina chimed, pulling a freshly washed pan, filling it with the veal stock. 

“Table nine, is that- that’s the senator?” Carmen turned to Richie, tasting the roux bubbling on Victoria’s station, giving her a curt nod of approval. 

“No, that’s table eleven.” Richie hummed, looking back at his notebook. “Nine, is… a birthday. Booked online.” Carmen had already begun to drone him out, mind racing with a million other things as Richie listed the guests name. Until he got to one. 

The name Carmen was sure he was hallucinating. The name no one knew- How would they know? How could they possibly know your name? 

You and Carmen had been seeing each other for a little while. A few weeks that were slowly turning into months. A casual thing that was slowly turning more serious. Dates and meetups are becoming more frequent. You’d even invited him over to your place a few times, he’d spent the night last week. 

Still, Carmen hadn’t managed to tell anyone. Selfishly, he liked that you were all his for now. Privacy was not guaranteed in the Berzatto house, in Carmen’s life still. He knew they meant well, they always did- he knew it wasn’t purposeful, the intrusion that almost always led to a demise. Carmen wasn’t ready for it, not yet, he still wanted you all to himself. 

“Carmen?” Sydney’s voice pulled him out of his panicked trance. “Chef, are you- are you good?” Her voice lilted with that familiar suspicious quip, the one always accompanied with her lifted brows. 

“What?” Carmen blinked, hands buzzing, heart thumping. He could see the window, Richie’s frame blocking most of it. “Sorry, yeah- yeah, I’m good, Chef.” 

Sydney watched him carefully, a slow nod before she continued calling out orders. Carmen could feel Richie’s eyes on him, narrowed with curiosity. Carmen tried to be nonchalant, crossing the kitchen back towards Tina, his eyes cutting carefully, looking out the window. 

There you were. 

Sitting pretty at the middle table, surrounded by friends, some Carmen recognized from your Instagram. He’d actually logged in to the app, looked you up after the first date, consumed every photo of yours in the dark of his room. Cheeks burning with excited heat, stomach fluttering in a way he hadn’t felt since junior high. 

“Alright, walk five salads to nine.” Sydney called out. “Where’s our runners? God, Richie, can you run-” 

“-I got it.” Carmen called, the urgency in his tone making Tina jump behind him. Carmen took the tray before Gary could, his hands shaking as he lifted it. 

“Cousin, I can get it.” Richie frowned. 

“No, I-I got it.” Carmen nodded, swallowing down his fluttering nerves. His eyes cut to your table through the window, heart skipping when he saw you. “I got it. I’ll be- I’ll just be a second.” 

“I don’t- I can’t even handle that one right now.” Sydney sighed in exasperation. “Alright, Chefs. Let’s get back on track.” She announced, shaking her head. Richie frowned, pulling out his phone. 

Sugar’s cell buzzed against the hostess stand, excusing herself to check it. 

From: Richie 

‘Look at table nine.’ 

Sugar huffed. 

To: Richie 

‘Why? Is there something wrong?’ 

She stepped back, casually turning to scan the room, eyes landing on the table. A small group of girls, younger, and amongst them- Carmen? 

To: Richie 

‘Is something wrong with the food? Do I need to comp it?’ 

From: Richie 

‘No. Cousin wanted to go out there.’ 

Sugar frowned, angling her body behind the large plant near the front as casually as she could. She watched through the leaves as Carmen passed out the salads, each girl grinning widely, but their eyes always cut to one on the end. 

Carmen saved your salad for last, hoping the lowlights of the restaurant would hide his boyish blush, setting the bowl in front of you carefully. “Hey,” 

“Hi,” You smiled sheepishly, looking to meet his gaze. “Everything looks so good.” 

“Yeah? Thanks.” Carmen nodded. “I-I didn’t know you were comin’ tonight.” 

“I’m sorry.” You cringed softly, embarrassed heat flooding through your veins. You knew better, knew you shouldn’t have done this- showed up at his restaurant unannounced. 

“I, uh, it’s my friend’s birthday.” You nodded towards Alicia at the end of the table. “And I was telling them about that pasta you made me, and they really wanted to come try it.” Your nerves bubbled, rambling in nervous peals that seemed to pour out before you could stop them.  

“Yeah, no, that’s really nice. Thank you.” Carmen nodded, giving a half smile to your friends, hoping they didn’t see the way he wiped his clammy hands on his apron. “Why didn’t- Why didn’t you just call me? Tell me you were comin’ in.” 

“I didn’t want to bother you.” You muttered softly. “I honestly didn’t think you’d even see us here, I swear. I didn’t mean to bother you or anything-” 

“-You’re not bothering me.” Carmen’s voice dropped to a coo, accompanied with a soft smile that had your head spinning. “Never a bother, but, uh, next time? Bother me, ok? Wanna make sure you get the best seat in the house.” 

Your cheeks flushed with heat, your friends excited giggles only intensifying the rushing heat blanketing over your body. Carmen’s own cheeks heated, tongue rolling on the inside of his cheek to hide his grin. 

“Alright?” Carmen added, and in a complete act of shocking boldness, his hand squeezed your shoulder affectionately. A small gesture on the outside, but for Carmen, it was huge. 

“Alright.” You grinned, leaning into his touch, your hands sliding over his. 

“How’s everything so far?” Carmen turned to the table, nodding at the excited gushes of compliments, not missing the way your friends cut their eyes to you with animated glee. 

“Just let me know if you need anything, ok?” Carmen turned to you.

“I will.” You nodded, starry eyed with love sick affection. 

“Good. I’ll see you before you leave, alright?” Carmen muttered, ducking down towards you. His lips brushed over your cheek, your perfume clouding his senses. “You’re not botherin’ me. ‘M glad you’re here.” 

Your cheek pressed to his, a gentle, affectionate rub before Carmen parted. Both of your features painted with shy delight. 

Carmen could feel everyone’s eyes, through flickering gazes and lifted brows. Sydney’s gaze lingering over him skeptically, still counting tickets. Fak’s wide grin from the corner, loading trays to take out. 

“Hey, uh, Marcus.” Carmen ignored Richie’s raised brows, a teasing, questioning remark on the tip of his tongue. 

“Yes, Chef?” Marcus muttered, looking up from the cannolis he was garnishing. 

“Table nine has a birthday. I was thinkin’ maybe the chocolate ganache, punch it with the little circle to make it look like a cake. Add a candle?” Carmen muttered, hand rubbing across his face. 

“Yeah, Chef, I can do that.” Marcus nodded. 

“Thank you.” Carmen nodded. “And Chef? Let me know when it’s ready before you walk it.” 

Marcus frowned. “No, it’s not- I just wanna walk it, ok?” Carmen shook his head. 

“Alright.” Marcus nodded slowly. “Heard, Chef.” 

Richie smirked, leaning against the stainless steel table. “So,” Richie hummed. “There a complaint or somethin’? Need me to go talk to ‘em-” 

“-No,” Carmen snapped, the possessiveness in his tone startling the both of them. “Sorry, it’s- No, I-I don’t need you to do that, Chef. Everything’s good.” 

Richie nodded slowly, passing the dishes to Gary with a nod. “You gonna tell me what that was about?” 

“No, Chef.” Carmen clipped, an edge to his tone that was teetering on annoyed. “But, uh, there’s not gonna be a check on table nine.” 

“What?” Richie frowned. “Did you mess somethin’ up? Seriously, Cousin, if something's wrong it’s my job to know-” 

“-No, it’s not-.” Carmen huffed, eyes pinching closed, running a hand over his face in frustration. “Look, that’s… The girl on the end? I-I’ve been kinda seein’ her, ya know?” He muttered. 

Richie gawked, blinking in disbelief. “No shit.” He grinned. “No shit? You-You’re serious?” He turned to look out the window. 

“Don’t fuckin’ look.” Carmen hissed. “Look, it-it’s not a big deal, alright? Just don’t-don’t say anything o-or do anything.” 

Richie swallowed back a teasing remark, a reactive reaction from years of being with Mikey. How the two of them used to tease Carmen endlessly, until they were fighting on the front lawn, Mikey howling with laughter while Carmen was red faced with mortified anger. 

This time, Richie held back. He wasn’t sure why, call it divine intervention, a gut feeling maybe, but it felt different this time. 

“Alright.” Richie nodded slowly. “No ticket for nine. Heard.” 

Carmen’s foot tapped anxiously. “I mean, right? Th-That’s what I should do right?” Carmen looked over his shoulder out the window. “That would be shitty to give her a check? Be a complete jagoff move to charge her?” 

“Yeah,” Richie scoffed lightly. “Jagoff of the fuckin’ year. Makin’ your girl pay to come to your place.” 

Carmen’s heart swelled at the term- your girl. His girl. You were his girl. 

“Walk four Pappardelle to nine. Walk one Pappardelle vegetarian style to nine.” Sydney called. 

Carmen dipped the spoon in the glaze, garnishing the plate before sliding it towards Sydney. “So, you gonna take these out?” He muttered. 

“No,” Carmen huffed. “Gonna wait until the cake.” 

“Yeah, good idea, Cousin.” Richie nodded with a proud smile. “That when you’re gonna tell them no check tonight?” 

“No,” Carmen shook his head. “I don’t- It would feel weird comin’ from me.” He looked up at Richie. “I was gonna let you do it.” 

“Yeah, I can handle that.” Richie smirked. “And I won’t say anything, Cousin.” He stopped Carmen before he could say it. “I got you, Cousin. I won’t fuck it up, alright?” 

Carmen nodded slowly, a strangled thank you on the tip of his tongue. The door swung open behind Richie, and for a second, Carmen caught a glimpse of you. Smiling and laughing, leaned in over the table, no doubt giggling with your friends about him. Carmen’s heart squeezed, but this time, without fear. No, there was no dooming fear that you were mocking him, making fun of him. This time, he felt the content rush of adrenaline filled love. A change in his routine, yes. Unexpected, sure, but he was glad for it. Glad that you were there- here, with him.

[paddockletters]

secretly yours | oscar piastri

summary: oscar and his childhood best friend secretly dated for years, but an accidental reveal Lando sends fans into a frenzy. request: yes! sorry took me too long :((

oscarpiastri

liked by lando norris and 182,763 others

oscarpiastri: it's just me and my best friend

view all the comments

user1: STOP PLAYING WITH US, OSCAR. WE SEE THE CHEMISTRY 😭

user2: i see you’re trying to pretend nothing’s going on, but we’re not fooled!!!

user3: just? J U S T? Please. we all know there’s more going on here than 'just' best friends 👀

user4: yeah, it’s just you two. And the ENTIRE WORLD watching you two 👀

user5: just? are we watching the same race? bc i see a love story unfolding and I’m LIVING for it 😭😭

user6: do you mean 'just' best friends? because that’s DEFINITELY not how we see it 👀

user7: she’s literally the only person on earth who gets to be with you like this, and we’re all just over here screaming

user8: just 'best friends’... okay, Oscar. keep telling yourself that while we all make wedding plans 🫠

user9: osc, you don’t have to pretend. We’re all just waiting for the 'I’m in love with my best friend' post 😭😭

user10: he´s trying to pretend it's just him and his best friend while we all know they're this close to being the hottest couple in F1 💀

yourusername posted stories

oscarpiastri

liked by lewishamilton and 967,863 others

oscarpiastri: What a year. Memories I’ll never forget. Here’s to 2024. 🖤

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user1: NOT YOU SNEAKING HER INTO THE DUMP. We see you, Oscar 👀❤️

user2: Photos 4 and 7??? Sir, care to explain why you’re casually dropping your soulmate into the mix like it’s no big deal? 😭

user3: everyone’s talking about the podiums, but I’m here for y/n and Oscar are clearly in love' subplot. 🫠

user4: We all know who made this year unforgettable for you, and it’s not the trophy, Oscar. Just admit it 😏

user5: photo 7 is giving: 'the love of my life, but I’m still too cool to say it'

user6: Oscar out here winning races AND soft-launching his girlfriend again

user7: the subtlety is killing me. Like, we get it, you’re in love

user8: this isn’t even a photo dump; it’s a declaration of love disguised as one

user9: Y/N making two appearances? Yeah..

user10: the way he’s just casually smiling in those photos with her... Yeah, I’m unwell. 🫠😭

landonorris: Two pics of Y/N? Are we sure this is a 'year' dump, or are you just casually announcing something, Oscar? 🤔

↪user11: LANDO WE SEE YOU! 😂 The REAL tea is in the comments section, right here

↪user12: bro, Lando is practically the third wheel in Oscar’s relationship at this point. Why is he always dropping hints? 😭😭

↪user13: lol Lando’s comment is the funniest thing I’ve seen all year. Just admit it, we all know what’s going on. 🫠

↪user14: tt this point, I’m just waiting for Lando to show up at the wedding like ‘I told you so’ 💀

yourusername

liked by landonorris and 273,973 others

yourusername: Dinner my favourite person 🖤 (and no, Lando, that doesn’t include you)

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user1: Not Lando catching strays in the caption 💀

user2: You and Oscar are literally the blueprint for 'childhood best friends to soulmates. I’m sobbing 😭❤️

user3: Okay but… can we talk about how you guys look SO perfect together?

user4: Lando reading this post like 👁️👄👁️

user5: Imagine being this photogenic AND dating Oscar Piastri

user6: Just me and my single, lonely heart, staring at these pictures like 🥲

user7: If this isn’t the softest thing I’ve ever seen. You guys are the real-life definition of couple goals 🥹💞

user8: Oscar when he’s with you >>> everything else in this world

user9: y’all just admitted you’re dating without saying it, and honestly, I’m here for this soft launch 👀

user10: do you guys just wake up every day and decide to be the cutest people alive, or does it happen naturally?

landonorris: Excuse me, I’m right here, and I thought I was your favourite person 🤔💔

↪user11: Lando out here acting like he didn’t just make the biggest hint about them being a thing in the last interview 😂

landonorris

liked by oscarpiastri and 1,929,651 others

lando norris: Just some wholesome moments from the weekend. ❤️🤪

1️⃣ Me getting my 5th victory.

2️⃣ Pastry getting a ice bath.

3️⃣ Oh, and this accidental gem… whoops

view all the comments

user1: HELLO?? LANDO?? WHAT IS THIS? 😳👀

user2: Couple goals??? EXCUSE ME??? EXPLAIN RIGHT NOW

user3: Lando casually dropping the biggest bombshell of 2025 like it’s no big deal 💀

user4: So… you’re telling me Oscar’s in love and didn’t even TELL US?!? 😭❤️

user5: This isn’t even subtle. LANDO, YOU HAD ONE JOB

user6: i don’t know if I want to scream at Lando or thank him

user7: not me zooming in like a detective ans yep, they’re definitely together

user8: lando, you better start running because Oscar is coming for you

user9: the way Oscar’s entire personality SCREAMED 'taken,' and now we finally know why

user10: accidental??? sure lando. this was 100% intentional and we love you for it

oscarpiastri

liked by yourusername and 3,981,519 others

oscarpiastri: Well, I guess the secret’s out… 😅. No more pretending we’re just ‘best friends’—we’re way past that. ❤️

view all the comments

user1: OH MY GOD. THE REVEAL!!! I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS SINCE FOREVER 😭

user2: HE DID IT. HE OFFICIALLY ADMITTED IT

user3: I KNEW IT. I was starting to think I was imagining all the tension between them. THEY’RE SO CUTE!!!

user4: THANK YOU OSCAR, FOR FINALLY ENDING MY SUFFERING

user5: Oscar confirmed it and suddenly my heart is doing 200 mph. This is EVERYTHING 🤧🤧

user6: this is the confirmation we didn’t know we needed, but now that we have it, everything makes sense

user7: from 'best friends' to ‘officially us’? I’m dead. They’re too perfect

yourusername

liked by landonorris and 1,428, 823 others

yourusername: Okay, okay… So maybe the ‘best friends’ thing wasn’t fooling anyone. We’re officially more than that (and yes, we’ve been laughing about this whole ‘secret relationship’ thing for a long time)

view all the comments

user1: I KNEW IT. ‘best friends’ my foot. this was the 'softest' launch ever 😂

user2: okay, but are we gonna talk about how Oscar looks SO much more relaxed now? The man’s freeeeee!!!!

user3: guess it was obvious? babes, it’s been obvious since DAY ONE. We just needed you to admit it

user4: so, are we gonna pretend like we didn’t see the way you two look at each other like no one else exists??

user5: Oscar and you basically saying ‘yeah, I’ve been OBVIOUS about it, but I needed to make it official’

user6: i am literally sobbing at how cute this is and i'm HERE for it

user 7: i knew it! THE SMILES. THE ENERGY. y’all were never fooling anyone. 💀

landonorris: guess i’ve been replaced as your partner in crime, huh? 🤔

↪ oscarpiastri: so much for keeping secrets, mate. Appreciate the unintentional PR move though 🙄

↪yourusername: landonorris Haha, it’s okay, you can still be my partner in crime. Just… don’t share too many ‘accidental’ pics, okay?

danielricciardo: wow, Lando’s getting everyone in trouble these days. what’s next, is he revealing mine and max ‘bromance’?? 😂"

↪landonorris: only if you and max finally admit were the real power couple of the paddock 🫣💁‍♂️

maxverstappen1: About time, guys 👏🏻

↪yourusername: haha, well, Lando’s definitely claiming the credit for all of this. Can’t say we didn’t try to keep it lowkey

[bbokicidal]

Not a Need, but a Craving | Loser!Perv!SKZ

Warnings: Chris is lowkey a creep here lol, Perverted behavior; Panty stealing, slapping of tits/ass/face, hair pulling, up-the-skirt pics, one-sided masturbation, meandom?Jeongin Pairing: OT8 [individual] x Fem-implied!Reader Genre: Suggestive but not smut (well.. sort of. 18+) Notes: Based loosely off of this perv!skz post I did a while ago. <- read this first!

방찬

Relation: Trainees

❥ Chris tells himself he'll delete these pictures every time he takes them, but he always ends up adding them to the the album specifically curated towards you and your -- well, the panties he deemed so cute and so sexy, enough so that he needed the pictures on his phone or he'd die. It was the only thing that he could get off to at this point; Women just didn't ever seem to want to come home with him so he could actually get some pussy, so...

❥ He's almost... proud of himself with how slick he's gotten; Taking pictures up your dress at the club when you're dancing against him, sneaking a photo or two up your skirt on the train while you wait to get off, or even up your nightgown when you're in the kitchen making breakfast for him after he stayed the night because the ride home was hours long and you had too big of a heart to let him go so late in the night.

❥ And of course he knows you can never find out. You're pretty, popular amongst the trainees and he's -- yeah, he's been there a long chunk of time but he doesn't have a ton friends or go out with people like you do. If you found out, if anyone found out, he'd be kicked out of the company and he'd never see you - or your pretty pussy and cute lacy panties - ever again...

리노

Relation: College students

❥ Minho is always touching you. When he can, at least.

❥ It started all because you sat next to him when studying. He was there to help you, but you insisted on moving closer to look at the textbook he was gesturing to and the moment your thigh brushed against his own it was all over for him. He'd tensed up and choked on every word that tried to leave his throat, ears bright pink. He could even smell your perfume from where he sat.

❥ He knew almost immediately he needed more, so as he came over more often to help you with classwork - because that's all he was to you, a tutor - he would let you sit close or even ask you to come sit beside him instead of across the table so he could have you right there. He would think about it later, too; The way your hand lingered on his arm when you patted it and bid him goodbye that evening, the way your fingertips brushed over his own as you eyed the textbook together.

❥ Maybe he was a bigger loser than he thought, getting off just from the simple touch of a pretty girl he shares a class with. (Not that he'd ever admit to you that sometimes he comes in his pants when your thighs touch his own under the table...)

창빈

Relation: Gym buddies

❥ Changbin was... still shameless.

❥ But even less so, now. He'd begun asking you to come to the gym with him all three times of the week he went - his schedule a bit busier than normal these days - and every single time he would go home and right away hop in the shower to tug on his cock.

❥ He'd started doing this... thing. He swore it was so that at the end of the year, you could create a video that showed your progress over every day you spent together at the gym working hard - but really, Changbin took photos of you two together at the end of your workouts just so he could use them while he got off later that evening. The sight of your hair all messy, you in slightly damp workout leggings and a sports bra, skin shiny with a thin layer of sweat...

❥ He knew it was a little gross, using your body to get off like that. Especially when you were sweaty in all of the pictures - But he preferred it that way. He could hear your heavy breathing in his ears even hours after you'd parted ways, the way your chest bumped his arm as he flexed and you held up a playful peace sign and smile. Call him gross all you want - He knew what he liked, and what he liked was you.

현진

Relation: Friend of a friend

❥ The collection was growing day by day and Hyunjin was getting more and more bold with every move he made. He never got the real thing because girls just weren't interested in him with his long hair, glasses, and pretty round eyes; so this was the best he'd get.

❥ He'd started sleeping over more often, using Felix as a reason to even be there in the first place. You two were close, he was close with the Australian - so he was automatically invited too, right? Right! And when he was over at your house and you were distracted playing a game with Felix, well - what was Hyunjin to do but go through your drawers and find something to take home with him?

❥ He's got favorites, of course. Anything pink is by far at the top of his 'I want this' list, stealing a lacy pair the first time he came over - then two more pair, one set seamless and the other covered in cherries, the next time he visited. Luckily for you, he doesn't stay the night at your place too often, or you'd be running out of underwear constantly with how he's stealing them left and right.

❥ But Hyunjin swears he's seen you stealing glances at him here and there, so... maybe if you knew he was using them to jerk himself off every night or sleeping with them curled up near his face so he could rest with your scent right beside him, you'd be more open to just handing him a pair to keep.

❥ It's only a matter of time before he starts taking the used ones.

한

Relation: College Roommates

❥ Jisung can't help the way he's just so... submissive? Around you?

❥ Let me explain. Jisung's developed a real bad habit of acting like he needs help from you when you're around because if he needs help, you'll touch him. He'll eat messier than normal so you'll wipe his lips clean for him - and yes, he'll practically come in his pants at the feeling of your thumb so close to slipping in his mouth - or he'll almost act as if he doesn't know how to do something so you'll hold his hands while you explain or hold onto him as you help him learn how to do something. Even if he's just faking being a bit of a himbo so you'll help him.

❥ And one of the reasons he gets away with this ^ so easily? Is because he's a known loser around campus and he's constantly teased for it. And you..? Well, you're the pretty girl who takes pity on him.

❥ His favorite is when you come to check on him at night or peek in to see if he's sleeping before you shower. He'll hum out that his head hurts or that his back aches from training all day or working out - and you'll comb his hair through your fingers or rub your hands down his back until he's falling asleep under your touch. And while, yes, it does help him sleep in the long run - it also makes him rock hard. The moment you leave the room after he 'falls asleep' he's rutting his hips down against the mattress and whimpering your name into his pillow.

필릭스

Relation: Best friend's brother

❥ Felix is affectionate with everyone he's close to. But you -- you're beautiful, and soft, and your tits are just so...

❥ Call him a loser if you want - he knows it's what he is. A desperate, shy, sweet angel who's booksmart and tries way too hard to be cool, who hangs around the pretty, popular girl because she's his sister's best friend. Just the precious little brother who sees that gorgeous girl once or twice a week at his home and takes it as an opportunity to hang around her; Hugging onto you, burying his face in your neck, cuddling up close during movies.

❥ And you let him cling to you because 1) He's hot, and 2) You know it's the only touch from a woman he'll ever get. And you suppose you don't mind the way his hands wander over your body when he swears he's just cuddling close and getting comfortable. You're pretty sure he doesn't realize you know he's feeling you up and groping every curve of your body, but. Ignorance is bliss.~

승민

Relation:

❥ It starts as an accident.

❥ Seungmin's hand caught in your hair when he laid it on your back and as he pulled away, his ring caught and pulled. He'd moved away so fast it had been enough to make your head lull back, a gasp and yell of pain and laughter falling from your lips as you reach to push his arm away.

❥ And Seungmin... -- God. He's weak in the knees. He spots the way your mouth falls open, your nose crinkles and eyes close at the feeling of your hair being pulled. And he knows in that moment that he needs to see you like that again.

❥ So he does it as a joke; subtle and cautious about it at first. You'll play fight or bicker about anything and Seungmin will pull your hair, fingers fisted tight in the strands until his hand was so close to your scalp that he had full control of your head. On one instance he had pulled you close until his face was inches from yours, cocking a brow and listening to you whine about how tight he was holding onto your hair - and another, you'd dropped forward into his lap in laughter while he was still holding onto you and he swore he almost shot a load in his boxers. That was the closest a woman had ever been to his hips - And if you didn't feel the way his cock twitched against the side of your face, it would've been a miracle.

아이엔

Relation: Close friends

❥ Jeongin loves being a little mean to you because you're the only woman in his life who will let him get away with it.

❥ You're one of his closest friends, even if he's kind of lame and everyone looks down on him for being the youngest in his group - and you're the one who openly bickers with him, teases him, and he does it all back to you and you take it, which surprises him a little bit. You let him pull on you and wrestle with you or cling to you when he's tired, even if he's all sweaty and gross. But sometimes the wrestling or bickering turns to pushing and pulling on each other until you're both on the floor and he's holding you down while you're kicking to be free.

❥ The first time he spanks you, all he remembers is the way you cry out and feeling of your ass against his palm. He plays it off by laughing because that's what you do, completely disregarding it and brushing it off before spanking him as well in retaliation - and he lets it happen. Not because he's into it, but because he's too distracted with trying to figure out how to hide the fact that he's so hard it hurts.

❥ He's going to need more of that feeling in the future. He knows he does - so he does it again to test the waters and when you, once again, laugh at it and take it as play-fighting, he dares to go further. These days the two of you are always slapping at each other's arms and thighs and ass - but if he's feeling really bold he'll slap your tits and sometimes, your face. Gently, of course, little taps here and there when it comes to your cheeks. And each time you take it in stride with giggles and slapping him in return, while he gets off to it later that evening in the bathroom stall after practice, remembering the way you feel under his palms when he spanks you.

❥ And that's how Jeongin discovered his impact play kink.

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