breakrooms

ReUnite (ReaderxModel!Hobi)

I love Hobi. He is beautiful, I always say he’s a model. Since he’s Dri’s bias, I try to stay in my lane, but one day, I wrote this cause my feels. He’s the kind of guy you fall in love with when neither of you are looking.I hope you guys like it ~Nis


You and Hoseok had been friends for a few years now. You met at a photo shoot of all places, him modelling for a new endorsement and you restocking the breakroom with food for him and the rest of his members. You were working as an intern at the studio hoping to gain experience to launch your career. He was so friendly, happily snacking on the edibles that you’d laid out so carefully on the table.

Now three years later, you’d formed a bond that was special. It was so hard to find a friend to last a lifetime, but you believed you found one in Hobi. You were same age friends and related to each other so easily. You found out that he was not always so cheerful and had diligently worked to change his attitude and outlook on life. He encouraged you to chase down your goals and to make your dreams come true. And they did. Now he and his group were well known and loved throughout the world and you were a freelance photographer, happily travelling to different places to promote sites and sell your photos to travel magazines.

Six months had passed since you last saw him in person. It wasn’t for lack of trying though. When he had a break from their world tour, you happened to be on site somewhere and by the time you returned, he was jetting off to another destination. Promises of “next time” and “maybe next month” tugged on your heart,  but you kept in touch via text and sometimes even video chatted just to ensure the other was happy and content, accomplishing all they were meant to.

As you took in your reflection in the mirror, you felt nervous. Six months was a long time. In fact, you and him had only hung out a handful of times in person. Sure he’d seen you barefaced through a screen, and heard your voice half rasped by sleep, but that didn’t compare to this. You couldn’t deny within yourself that Hoseok had grown from a casual acquaintance to a true friend. What you didn’t count on were these butterflies flitting about within your stomach. 

He was due to knock on the door any second. Both of you had agreed to get take out, since you were returning from your respective work assignments. It felt hot and sticky in the apartment and you decided to gather your curls off your neck and into a high bun on your head. The cotton tank top felt like it was too heavy on your skin and thick footies that adorned your always cold feet felt itchy and scratchy.

A knock sounded at the door and you nearly sank against the bathroom sink. It was a familiar knock, he always used a specific knock, it was his way of announcing himself. You slowly padded to the door and tiptoed to peek through the eyehole. You knew it was him of course, but you needed to buy a few more seconds to compose yourself. He was dressed simply, a white tee, blue jeans ripped in the knee and a snapback perched on his head. His gaze was trained down the hall and you couldn’t help but wonder if he was as nervous as you. It was now, there was no never.

You undid the lock and flung the door open. He snapped to attention and the both of you just stood there for a beat, taking in each other’s appearances. His eyes trailed down your figure, and you gulped, hoping it was okay that you didn’t dress up or anything. Suddenly he was through your doorway, taking you up in his arms and squeezing the life out of your small frame. Your arms immediately came around his waist, still lean and unchanged from the last time you’d held him.

“I missed you so much,” he was the first one to say, words muffled against your hair. You chuckled into his chest, as he was a full head taller than you.

“I missed you, too Hoseok.” Just as you thought he would release you, he turned and looked you full on in your eyes. This was different. Although he definitely was one for affection, he never lingered this long…

“Did you miss me as much as I missed you?” he asked, gaze intense, voice steady and confident as he asked the question.

“Hobi…,” you were actually ready to answer his question, if only you could speak past this lump in your throat. But before you could, he was pressing a kiss to your nose and your eyes fluttered to a close. He continued on, kissing your cheek, your ear, then your neck…

You opened your eyes with a start, almost refusing to believe that your best friend who you’d secretly been pining for was in your apartment, door still wide open, holding you tightly and kissing down your neck like he was on a mission. That was when you became acutely aware of the tip of his tongue, flicking across the skin of your neck. This wouldn’t do. You were sweaty, it was way too hot, and goodness, you were sure the neighbors could see you from across the hall, but darn it if you stopped this man from his quest.

“You taste like chocolate,” he whispered against your skin. He took his time with you, retracing his original path and even when pulling back, he kept his hands firmly planted on your hips.

“I’ll ask again. Did you miss me as much as I missed you?” he breathed out.

His snapback had fallen off with the force of your embrace, forgotten somewhere against the carpet. You brushed back the hair against his forehead, fingertips brushing against his smooth skin, tanned from the summer sun. He was beautiful.

“Yes.”

rebeccasmollett63  asked:

8 Supercat please!

8. “I want my best friend back.”

Kara smiles when she steps into the breakroom to find a box of donuts open on the table in the centre of it, a note beside them imploring people to help themselves.

Kara does just that, selecting a chocolate-filled one and taking a bite as she fiddles with the coffee machine – the caffeine might not do anything for her, but she still enjoys the taste – devouring the rest of her donut as she waits for the machine to finish. 

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Clients.

Clients you like.
Clients you don’t like.
Clients who are more into you than you are into them.
That one client who never tips but they’re super nice so you really don’t mind.
Every other fucking client who doesn’t tip.
Clients who show up late and
clients who show up early while
you’re still in the breakroom trying to
wolf down half a frozen burrito and
clients who you know you can show up late for because they’ll laugh and say, “No problem, hon, traffic happens!”
Soccer Sean, Tennis Elbow Guy, clients you have innocent nicknames for.
Clients you have less innocent nicknames for.
Clients who fart.
Clients who want a “normal” massage.
Clients who’ve been hurt before.
Clients who walk in wearing that amazing blue high-low dress and look just like Blake Lively and you have to tell yourself, “Jesus, girl, keep it together!” and “Turn that part of your brain off, stat” when you leave them in the room to undress.
Clients who are notorious for something.
Regular clients who come twice a month. Clients you worry about when they don’t show up.
Clients who were referred by your mom.
Your mom.
Clients with dry feet.
Whose hair just will not stay out of the way.
Who say, “THERE! Where your hand is right now. That’s the spot.”
Who go to the gym. Who pick up heavy toddlers all day. Who know more about anatomy than you do. Who smoke.
Clients you’d rather do trades with, because you know they cut hair or fix cars or tattoo, but you’re not quite sure how to bring it up yet.
Clients who want to trade you weird shit you don’t need. Like a website.
Clients you would work on for free but they wouldn’t let you.
The ones who let you.
Who bring you fresh eggs from their farm.
Clients you love to touch.
Clients you touch for the money.
Clients you wish you could fix.
Your last client of the day.
Your first client ever.
Clients.

I was in the breakroom at work talking to some of my co-workers about Hamilton and how phenomenal it was, and I forget sometimes that not everyone speaks in internet hyperbole, because at one point I said “And the day after I saw Hamilton I saw Les Mis and that was a MISTAKE.” And they were like “oh it was disappointing?” and I sort of stared at them for a second before processing they hadn’t taken my meaning and was like “no, I mean I cried some more because it was great, my emotions were just piling on top of each other” and they were like “ohhhhhhh.” 

The Doctors Pt. 11

Originally posted by starrytales

Request: ​Anon-Modern AU where the reader and Kylo are doctors. The reader walks by a hospital room with a patient holding a baby and the reader is slightly jealous? Then they try to make a baby (Doesn’t have to be smut). Baby shower, Kylo feeling the baby kick for the 1st time, etc.? Srry it it's too much. P.S. I can’t wait for your other fics. I also miss you!

A/N: We’re so close to the end D: My goal is to finish this story sometime next week. I only have 4 chapters left with an author’s note.

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otomesiren replied to your post “I am… so glad I went and spent that money on Mystic Messenger, holy…”

OMG RIVI ISNT THIS GAME GREAT wait so who are you being all yandere to? Yoosung? LOL I noticed he likes rude shit to him oo

Yoosung is so incredibly M that it’s kind of unreal, LOL.

And yes. The more she obsesses over him and tries to control him the more he’s like THIS IS AWESOME!

Yeah, I was playing it on my break at work and he called and was suddenly like “I want to be the only one you look at… “ and shit, and I was like, well… looks like I gotta turn my phone off and catch this later XD

One of the people I work with is korean so I can just imagine what they’d think, hearing that stuff in the breakroom at work, lmfao