#Personalized North Face Jackets
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Personalized North Face Jackets – Style Meets Customization
Stand out in every crowd with Personalized North Face Jackets from AllStar Logo. Whether for your business, team, or personal use, these jackets offer the perfect blend of functionality, durability, and unique style. North Face is known for its high-quality, weather-resistant materials, ensuring you stay warm and comfortable in any condition.
What sets our jackets apart is the ability to personalize them with your logo, name, or custom design. From sleek embroidery to standout designs, we make it easy to create jackets that reflect your identity or brand. Perfect for corporate uniforms, team gear, or personalized gifts, our jackets help you make a bold statement.
With a variety of styles, colors, and sizes available, you can find the perfect fit for any occasion. Whether you're outfitting your employees or gifting clients with premium apparel, Personalized North Face Jackets ensure a professional and memorable touch.
At AllStar Logo, we combine expert craftsmanship with your unique vision to deliver exceptional results. Experience the perfect combination of premium quality and custom style. Start designing your personalized jackets today by visiting AllStar Logo. Make every outing a showcase of your brand or individuality!
0 notes
Text
Matty, Louis, AND No Rome in the yellow north face jacket. This coat really was their sisterhood of the travelling pants
#matty healy#the 1975#Louis Healy#no rome#snuggle buddies in our coats#north face jacket you will always be famous#this is so personal to me
17 notes
·
View notes
Text
i am such a hater. i think my most irrational hate is my hatred for “gorpcore” and ppl who buy from utilitarian brands (arcteryx, north face, etc.) for fashion. like u look stupid wearing ur goretex shell in the snow (with zero mid layers/insulating layers) and u look extra stupid wearing ur goose down parka when its raining.
#this person in my lecture was complaining bc her 400$ north face puffer got completely soaked…#like yeah duh that’s not a rain jacket that isn’t its function !! it’s literally filled with feathers !! down is horrible for wet climates#BC THAT ISNT THE FUNCTIONNNN#anyway y’all look dumb asf dropping 500$+ on brands that aren’t fashion brands.
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
i need a new going out jacket
0 notes
Text
the car broke down by the denny's where you used to work and therefore could never return to. i am trying to pick out the satisfying parts of my life, one-by-one, like i am 12 and in a frog dissection. everything in my life all viscera and formaldehyde. if i can sort the good things from the bad things, i will have a nice clean pile.
i call you and make it sound like i am happy and hangin' in there! when really i am kicking a rock and i am outside without a jacket and i am so in love with you it makes the little bones in my ear shake. someone called my tinnitus an angel choir. i like that it means i carry the echo of every concert.
this isn't the right setting for love. this is a roadside, and a denny's, and i am nauseous and ashamed i never escaped the town where i grew up. the clouds here are this strange yellow, like spilled sour milk. "someone once told me that the orange coating on the teeth of a beaver is due to the particularly high rate of iron in their enamel," i tell you. "the beaver is the largest rodent native to north america."
your voice is crackly on the other end. i'm going into a garage soon, i might lose you.
what i should be doing is calling the tow truck and explaining that my brother's car (that i'm borrowing) (that i broke now, i guess) needs to be lifted by another, bigger, stronger car (which is love too, i guess).
i shouldn't say so much. i should wait, and let you ask about my mom, and ask if i ever got over that cold, or how it's going at work. i should let you lead the conversation, for once, so the love doesn't leak out of me into the gravel. i open my mouth anyway. "if you had to choose between being a beaver with very few trees or being a tree around a bunch of beavers, which would it be?"
i don't know. your voice always has this warm cast to it when you talk to me, but maybe i am just imagining that - i am a poet, though, so i imagine things sort of chronically. through the static, you sound like you're laughing. are you the beaver?
i know, like, logically, not to fall in love with a girl-that-is-your-best-friend. like, who would i even call if we broke up? you're my best friend, you're the person i'd want to speak to. so what if these last few months we keep sleeping over at each other's houses, calling each other for hours, sending each other poems. so what if you keep wrapping your fingers into mine. no best friends. that is the first rule. what you are supposed to do in that situation is leave the situation.
but my car broke down, so. where exactly am i going to go? the car is a very-old chevvy and also where i almost-but-not-quite kissed you after you'd raised one shoulder and looked up at me and said i don't know, i think i'm straight, but for the right person - i'd try anything. the music had been good and it had been raining and your thick eyelashes had made me feel god crawling up my throat like a spider. and i didn't kiss you, because i am a coward.
anyway on the chevy the whole exhaust pipe fell out, and is now scraping on the ground like one silver finger stroking the back of the highway. recently we were watching netflix in my bed and you pushed my hair back from my face like you were making the slowest, most desperate prayer, and then your boyfriend called. i remember us both jumping. i couldn't look at you in the eyes for like a week after. i kept feeling the heat of your fingerprint; computer science, you'd unlocked something dark in me.
google says the closest tow (joe's pick up) is 50 minutes away and also closed permanently. so that's not great. you live in another state and i should be calling my insurance company. i should be calling anybody else. this is not helping. i need an uber. i need to get moving. instead i say: "i need three words for a poem."
yesterday i said love you, goodnight after our 2 hour call like always and then you just, like. paused. all i could hear was your breathing. and then you'd said what a pretty three-word poem. i love you too, sweet thing. the words made my tinnitus act up again, and i must have some kind of synesthesia, because the sound travelled into my mind until it became the shape wedding rings.
orange, you say. the static is now chewing through most of your words and i only catch - borrowing the chevy -
the call dies. i have 12% battery. i never get the 3rd word, but i know you're still going to get a poem from me. actually this rest stop is kind of pretty, and so is the exhaust pipe, and so is joe's pick up, and so are the clouds. the light here is the color of a glue trap. before you worked at the denny's, we used to get milkshakes every wednesday and called it a friend date. you said you'd wanted to work there because it reminded you of me.
the sign's gone dim. the letters now spell out deny. and isn't that something.
#spilled ink#ty nat#ps if anyone wants to send me money for a car. you'll never guess what happened :')
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Jealous, much?
18+ only. Smut ahead.
regina was pissed.
not mad, pissed.
she couldn't believe what she was seeing.
from her spot in the kitchen of whatever football player's house, she could clearly see gretchen grinding on y/n y/l/n.
it's not like she had the right to be mad at y/n. all she was to regina was a good hookup when aaron couldn't get the job done, which was 90% of the time. but regina couldn't help but feel anger and jealousy stir in her stomach. janis was right when she said regina was the apex predator of north shore, once she caught you, she refused to let go.
having become tired of seeing the two grind with each other, she decided to end it. finishing off her drink, she flipped her hair and made her way over to the pair. "gretchen, i heard jason was looking for you. you might wanna go find him." the girl gasped and ran off, looking for the sleazy boy.
y/n sighed as her dance partner ran off. "god, you can't let me have some fun?" regina took gretchen's place, smirking at how y/n was blatantly checking her out. she turned and began to grind her ass against y/n's front, making the girl groan. "you know, i'm no expert, but i don't think your boyfriend would like this gina."
regina felt heat shoot to her core at the sound of the nickname coming out of the girl's mouth. the blonde continued grinding on y/n, pulling the hottest sounds out of the girl's mouth. after the song ended, regina grabbed y/n's hand, pulling her up the stairs and into an empty bedroom. upon entering, y/n pushed regina up against the door, connecting their lips in a steamy kiss.
teeth and tongues clashed as the two made out against the door, y/n finally pushing regina on the bed, pushing the girl's dress up to her waist and burying her head in-between her legs.
regina ended up walking (limping) out of the bedroom and back to her boyfriend, who didn't even question anything.
the next day at school, regina couldn't stop thinking about y/n. unfortunately for her, she had no classes with the girl, only being able to see her at lunch. when she did finally see her, anger boiled up in her once again.
she was sitting next to gretchen when she finally caught sight of y/n. she was a few tables down from the plastics and saw that y/n was sitting awfully close to some girl named ashley, (according to gretchen). from what the blonde could see, ashley was running her hand up and down y/n's arm, purposefully pushing out her chest.
regina was steaming, no one was allowed to touch y/n like that besides her.
wait, what?
regina shook the thought off, getting up to get some cheese fries and a diet coke. walking back to her table, she would pass y/n and ashley. smirking to herself, she grabbed her diet coke and "tripped" spilling the can's contents on ashley, soaking her with the sticky liquid. the girl screamed and ran off to the bathroom, leaving a stunned y/n and smug regina behind. y/n looked up at the blonde and glared, before running off after ashley.
regina stood there, floored. why would y/n run after ashley when regina was standing right there?
later that day, after regina got home, she got bored and decided to text y/n to come over.
queen bitch👑: come over.
hottest person alive🥵: can't. hanging out with ashley.
queen bitch👑: ditch her and come let me sit on your face.
hottest person alive🥵: no.
regina was reaching her anger limit and decided to spice things up a bit. she unzipped the jacket she was wearing and pushed her breasts up with her arm, making them look bigger.
queen bitch👑:
please. i need you.
hottest person alive🥵: give me an hour.
regina fell back on her bed out of breath and sweaty. y/n kissed her inner thigh softly before standing to her feet, putting her clothes back on. regina watched with a pout on her face as the girl got dressed. "where are you going?" y/n sighed. "since someone was extremely demanding and needy, i have to make it up to ashley." regina scoffed at the mention of the girl.
y/n took notice. "are you mad or something?" regina scoffed once more. "no, why would i be mad that you're choosing to hang out with that skank rather than stay here with me." y/n looked at the blonde girl shocked. " ashley isn't a skank. she's actually really nice and i'm kinda excited to see where things go." regina sat up at that.
"what do you mean where things go? what about us?" y/n was the one to scoff now. "what do you mean us? there is no us. you have aaron, or did you forget?" regina rolled her eyes. "this isn't about aaron, we are talking about us." y/n shook her head. "again, there is no us. you're too scared to come out so there has never been an us. i'm not your property."
regina felt her heart break at how sad y/n sounded. the girl spoke up again. "you know what? this was fun while it lasted but i don't think we should hook up anymore regina. you have aaron and i am hoping to have ashley. i'm not going to let you ruin it because you're jealous over a relationship that was nothing more than fucking. and until you can come to terms with that, don't talk to me."
with that, y/n walked out of the door, and out of regina's life.
it had been a few weeks since the incident and y/n hadn't left regina's mind. the queen bee couldn't stop thinking of the girl and how much she fucked up. she had broken up with aaron the day after the incident. shockingly, he took it okay. he had his eye on someone else anyway and couldn't figure out how to break things off.
everything had affected regina's behavior at school, the girl being more bitchy than before, especially towards ashley. gretchen had been keeping regina updated with y/n and ashley and how they were progressing, but she did drop a bomb on regina one day at lunch.
"you know, i heard that ashley and shane have been hooking up behind y/n's back, ashley only got with y/n as a bet." regina's heart dropped at the news. she knew that bitch was slimy. y/n hadn't spoken to her since d-day so regina had no idea how to break the news to her. luckily for the blonde, she wouldn't have to.
an hour later, while sitting in her english class, regina got a text from gretchen.
gretch: y/n found out about ashley and shane. her and shane got in a fight and they both got suspended.
regina's stomach sunk reading the text. she immediately grabbed her bag and got up, ignoring the teacher's calls. she sent a text to the plastics group chat informing them that she was leaving and for them to drive themselves home.
she hopped in her jeep, heading towards her destination.
she pulled in to y/n's driveway, thanking the lord that she was home alone. she got out of her car, heading up to the front door and letting herself in. she found y/n sitting on the couch in her living room, staring at her hands. the blonde slowly approached the girl, kneeling in front of her and gently grabbing her hands. y/n seemed to kind of snap out of her stupor, looking at the blonde blankly.
"gina? what are you doing here?" regina's heart fluttered at hearing the familiar nickname. "i heard what happened with ashley. i wanted to check in on you and make sure you were okay." y/n shook her head chuckling. "since when do you take care of me?" regina sighed and kissed y/n's bruised knuckles gently.
"since i figured out i'm in love with you." y/n froze. regina was in love with her? the blonde noticed her silence and looked up at y/n nervously. she wasn't expecting to drop that bomb on y/n so soon. y/n took a shaky breath. "you love me?" regina nodded. "i think i've always been in love with you, but i've been worried about keeping up a certain image that i just denied those feelings for you. but then we started hooking up and the feelings got stronger."
y/n noticed a few stray tears running down regina's cheeks. she reached up and cupped her cheek, gently wiping the tears off her face. regina sniffled and continued.
"i know it's toxic of me to think this but i thought if i kept you close with the hookups, that i could have the best of both worlds. but then you ended things and i lost you and i realized that i didn't wanna go on without you. so i broke up with aaron and was going to go after you but then i thought you and ashley were happy. and i didn't want to take that happiness from you. but i really am in love with you. and i want to be the one who makes you happy. to be the couple that every gets jealous of. i'm so sorry for what i put you through. just please give me a chance."
y/n couldn't take it and pulled regina into a passionate kiss. this kiss wasn't like any kiss the two had shared. the other kisses had been more of a hunger, desire burning in the pit of their stomachs. this kiss they were sharing now, felt like a missing puzzle piece was sliding into place. the two poured their feelings for each other in the kiss.
regina got up, not pulling away from the kiss, straddling y/n, her hands automatically going to the blonde's hips. the two eventually pulled away to catch their breaths. regina began to trail hot, wet kisses down y/n's neck, leaving marks for everyone see. y/n threw her head back, giving regina more access.
the blonde began to slowly grind on y/n's leg, searching for friction. y/n noticed and guided the girl's movements, slowing her down. regina whined into y/n's neck, the girl shushing her softly. "shhh baby. slow down, i wanna savor this." regina turned into putty at the pet name, listening to the girl as she rocked her hips slower.
y/n thanked the heavens above that regina decided to wear a skirt today. she flipped the skirt up. y/n smirked at the sight of a lacy, black thong barely covering regina. she pulled the girl down directly on her thigh, the blonde letting out a moan. y/n guided regina to grind at a steady pace, the blonde letting out soft whimpers at the feeling.
"you're so beautiful gina. so perfect. and all for me aren't you?" regina nodded as y/n's hands guided her to pick up the pace. "yes. yes, all yours y/n." y/n smiled, beginning to kiss down the blonde's neck, leaving her own marks. regina felt the bubble of pleasure sitting in the bottom of her stomach grow.
y/n smiled at the sight of the queen bee being putty in her own hands. y/n slid one of her hands between regina's legs, gently rubbing her clit through the flimsy fabric. regina gasped at the feeling, throwing her head back.y/n smirked. "god, i wish you could see yourself right now baby, you look so perfect." regina sped her movements up, chasing her high.
y/n could tell she was getting close, so she began to help her out by applying more pressure to her clit. "i want you to cum for me regina. make a mess on my thigh." regina couldn't hold it anymore. the bubble popped and her orgasm washed over her in waves. y/n helped her ride it out, the girl gently shaking on her thigh.
"good girl. so beautiful. so perfect." y/n continued to rain praise down on regina as as she gently picked the girl up and headed to her room. she laid the blonde down on her bed and went into her bathroom to grab a wet cloth. she came back and gently cleaned regina up, shushing the girl's soft whimpers.
she then threw the cloth in her hamper before going to grab some sweats and a t-shirt for the blonde. after a few minutes of gently rag dolling regina into the clothes, she grabbed a water bottle from her mini fridge and a power bar, urging the blonde to take.
water drank and power bar eaten, regina laid on y/n's chest as the girl stroked her hair. y/n spoke up. "will you be my girlfriend gina?" regina sat up slowly, turning to y/n. "if you think i was leaving here without becoming your girlfriend, you are crazy. of course i'll be your girlfriend you dork. you can't give me that amazing of an orgasm and expect me to not scoop you up."
y/n laughed and pulled the blonde girl into a soft kiss, cementing the unspoken promise of love between the two girls.
#regina george imagine#regina george x reader#mean girls imagines#mean girls 2024#regina george smut
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
: ̗̀➛ PROTECTOR. hobie brown x reader
summary: spider-man makes a point of walking y/n home every night, but after befriending them as hobie brown as well, his feelings get complicated. words: 3.5k REQUESTS OPEN ! warnings: non-explicit sexual harassment (a man is very creepy to reader), reader isn't gendered! but be aware, author is female, so possible afab bias, i tried my hardest i swear. all characters are adults :) author is british so this is my interpretation of his silly little slang from what ive experienced hehe also divider credit: cafekitsune a/n: may feel a little ooc, but in my headcanon, when he's pining the way he is for reader, he's so soft. also, spider-man and hobie r completely different personalities u cant tell me otherwise. first time writing hobie so pls give me opinions ty. enjoy!!!!!
“is it home-time already, darlin’?”
there he was. the familiarity of routine washing over you, turning your head to see him propped up against the brick, spikes on display and guitar pick flipping in between his clothed fingers.
“spider-man, my hero,” you sighed and clutched your non-existent pearls, a smirk on your lips.
“you know i hate that,” kicking off from the wall of the pub you just clocked out of, he stuffed his hands into his patched up jacket, his bouncy stride meeting yours on the pavement.
“i know,” you smiled, allowing your bag to fall from your shoulders and into his outstretched hand, as always.
it had become a routine, over the course of a few months, that the one-and-only spider-man would escort you home from work in the late hours. at first, it didn’t seem real. why would he decide to spend valuable time most days walking you home, when he could be out fighting whatever darkness lurks in the shadows? you’ve asked him, almost every time, but he always gives the same, vague answer;
“who else is gonna keep you safe, love?”
his legs were longer than yours, by a mile. so he had to slow his usual pace for you. naturally bouncy, his booted feet tapped against the pavement like a kick drum, and you wondered whether that was the radioactive blood in his veins, or his natural energy.
laughter flittered through the dark streets as you caught up, it had only been a day since you last saw him, but being a crime-fighting, fascist-killing superhero, there was quite a lot to pack into a 24 hour day.
he bounced off the walls of passing buildings, recreating his fights with the air that hung between you both, throwing in some exaggerated punches here and there, to elicit an extra giggle or two from you. you almost got lost following his animated recreations, but he kept an eye out for the roads ahead. he’d memorised all the paths leading to your apartment.
it had all started a few months prior, after a particularly long shift at work. constantly over the span of a few hours, this guy would not leave you alone. no matter how many times you refused his advances, a smile on your face, masking the unsettling pit in your stomach at the sight of his grin. drink, after drink, after drink, he ordered just to stare at you the whole night, crude gestures and words thrown your way.
you’d gotten used to it, working at a pub in the depths of london, it wasn’t ever unusual to get unwanted advances. but something about this guy, you couldn’t shake it. ~
“what time do you finish, ay?” his accent was thick, you placed him somewhere up north.
“i’m not sure,” you muttered back, forcing a smile.
“oi, come on! ‘course you know what time you finish,” his words were slurred, and his eyes hadn’t left yours once, “was thinking we could ‘ave some drinks together, tha’s’all.”
“sorry, i can’t tonight, i have to be up early tomorrow,” you giggled, and if he wasn’t so drunk, he’d definitely have picked up on the nerves lacing your words.
“come on,” vowels drawn out, he made an attempt to stand up to meet your height, the proximity of him sending a shock of fear to your heart, until a strong hand clapped against his chest, the force almost sending him backwards.
“pack it in, dickhead, they said ‘no’,” a deep, almost calming voice spoke, contrasted completely with the stern, threatening tone of his words.
you looked to meet your protectors gaze, and it almost stunned you. he was tall, taller than you, for sure. dark, smooth skin with an aura of pure mayhem, silver piercings protruding from his face. adorned with a ripped, skin-tight plain top and denim vest, littered with badges, patches and just about any accessory known to man.
his eyes were what really held you. a heavy look, dark brown with the most unique feeling of strength and power that you’d ever seen. you could’ve easily gotten lost.
deciding you’d stared at him long enough, though, you broke the eye contact, diverting it back to the man who looked a humorous combination of terrified and offended at the same time.
“‘s alright mate, we were just talking, back off, yeah?” his liquid courage built up, ignorant of the taller man’s hand still pushing against his chest, ring-clad hands seeming to leave an imprint.
“think it’s time for you to leave, mate,” he spat back, mimicking his slang.
a moment of silence followed. you’d fully expected the drunken creep to swing a punch, or at least bite back, but under the weight of the taller man’s stare, he seemed to lose all fight he had in him. with a final murmer of something you couldn’t quite hear, and unsure you really wanted to, he stumbled backwards, slipping into the crowd.
“thank you,” you broke the silence, to which the man shrugged.
“he was a pig,” he brushed it off like nothing, and you couldn’t help but smile at his attitude. raising his newly free hand, he stretched it towards you, tight in a fist.
“hobie, hobie brown,” he greeted, and his accent completely erased the ‘h’ from his name.
“y/n l/n,” you smiled, accepting his offer and spudding him, the cold metal of his rings against your knuckles. you couldn’t help but grin at the oddity of his presence.
hobie kept you company for the rest of the night, ranting about his thoughts and opinions of various important subjects, ranging widely from drinks of choice to the existence of capitalist propaganda in modern media, all of which you hung onto every word of.
it wasn’t long until he’d managed to book him and his band into a few slots on the pub’s makeshift stage that stood empty on the other side of the room, smiling to himself at how authentically excited you seemed to hear his music.
when he left, his vacancy was immediately obvious. the booming pub feeling oddly silent without him.
after closing up for the night, you grabbed your bag and slung it over your shoulder, switching the lights off with one hand and fiddling with the keys in the other, shaking the door to double check you locked it well enough. body aching from being on your feet all day, you yawned, stepping autopilot into the darkness. the night air was chilling, causing you to wrap your jacket tight around your body. cursing at yourself for not bringing another layer, or pre-ordering a taxi home.
“oi,” you heard from your right, turning quickly to the familiar call.
stumbling on the pavement, the drunken creep from earlier pointed towards you.
shit.
you hadn’t expected him to actually wait for you. it’d been hours since he left, he was insane. what was he thinking?
grabbing the keys from your pocket, you gripped them in your freezing hands in defense.
“where’s your little friend, huh?” he spat, clearly enraged by hobie’s interruption earlier. he stepped closer, and you stepped back, trembling as you tripped slightly on the pavement.
“ay, is this twat bothering you?” a voice called from above.
wait, above?
craning your neck up, you made eye contact with possibly the last person you expected.
“spider-man?”
and from that night, he’d met you every time. waiting outside the pub doors, no exception, to walk you home.
“hey!” spider-man’s upbeat calling snapped you instantly back to him, jumping slightly as you finally noticed he was directly in front of your face, white eyes narrowed on your demeanor, “where’d you go, huh?”
“sorry,” paying him an apologetic smile, “just thinking.”
“wanna clue me in, darlin’?” his tone was playful, but the soften of his masks expression felt genuine.
“just thinking about the day i’ve had,” you lied, unsure whether his spidey senses could tell. not that it was rare for you to think about how you met, but you didn’t want to bring it up again. if he could tell, he didn’t let on.
“whataboutit?” he sped up, slipping back to your pace and slinging his lanky arm over your shoulders, basically hanging onto you as you walked. he liked walking with you like this. it made him feel powerful, like he was keeping you extra safe.
“hobie’s band played again!” you exclaimed, and if he’d been paying attention, he would’ve seen the way your face lit up at the memory. unfortunately for him, his eyes were trained on webbing a chocolate bar from a passing vendor. god knows why it was still open, but he was glad it was.
“hobie, again, huh?” taunted spider-man, punching your arm playfully with the fist that gripped the newly stolen snickers bar, “starting to think you’re replacing me, love.”
“never,” you teased back, elbowing his side, hearing the jingle of his badged vest, “hobie’s just…”
ears pricking, he clung onto the words you were speaking, anticipating possibly hearing something he didn’t want to.
“he’s just so cool,” you breathed with a smile, and he almost verbally sighed in relief, stopping himself in order not to rouse suspicion. he smirked under his mask, “just got this feel about him, so easy to talk to, and he’s so talented! you know, i’ve almost learnt all the lyrics to his songs.”
his heart just about exploded. in fact, he thinks he could pinpoint the exact moment it did.
he played off his burning cheeks, clearing his throat and incredibly glad his mask hid his flustered expression.
“you should come see him, you know,” you looked up at him, and though you knew his answer was ‘no’, it was worth a try, “i can hide you in the back if you don’t wanna be seen.”
“come off it, love,” he dismissed, avoiding your gaze, but his back was tingling like pins and needles under the warmth of it, “i’m not keen to meet the man stealing you from me.”
“fuck sake,” you laughed and pushed his arm off you, brushing off his playful flirting.
his confidence was excelling. the friendship you had formed over the prior months had stemmed from his childish charm, and it hadn’t faltered once.
“well, here i am,” you brought your pace to a halt, hovering in front of the door to your apartment building.
“i’ll miss you tonight,” he fell against the wall, eyes stuck on you. you couldn’t see it, but you could feel his smirk.
“i’ll see you tomorrow, i finish at 11,” you stepped towards him.
“i’ll be waiting,” he kicked off from the bricks, raising his hand to ruffle your hair, much to your protest, before practically disappearing in front of your eyes.
you were left grinning to yourself, much like every night.
“what’s up, bruv?” hobie’s friend elbowed him harshly in the ribs, causing him to rip his eyes from you.
“nothing,” he huffed, but by the lack of sustenance and playfulness in his reply, his friend was less than satisfied. hobie was a carefree, reckless guy with a constant spurt of irony, and seeing him with a sullen expression and no bite back, was worrying.
“come off it, hobie,” another one piped up, sitting across from him with an empty pint in one hand and cigarette in the other, pointing the latter in his face. he huffed, “you’ve been slumping for like 3 months now, and you’ve only been writing sappy love songs.”
the table snickered, and even hobie’s lips curled into a smirk. his friend was right, he wasn’t even nearly like his usual self. he blames you for that.
“who is it then, huh?” his friend pushed, cigarette still hanging in front of hobie’s face, ash crumbling off the end, “has our ol’ hobie brown got himself a partner?”
“oi, you know i hate labels,” he smirked again, knowing he was lying. not that he didn’t usually hate them, but he couldn’t avoid the fact that every time you made your way to the front of his mind, he was urged to call you his. his partner. his person. his love. just his.
he always did hate consistency, anyway.
“another round, guys?” your voice ripped him from his thoughts, your scent somehow drifting above the sticky smell of beer and cigarettes, he pinned that down to his spider abilities, but he’d be a fool to ignore that he had simply just memorised the aroma.
“please, darlin’,” hobie’s friends chirped up, grinning at you thankfully. he cursed the burning feeling in his chest.
“i could do you guys a deal,” you smirked playfully, and he looked up to meet your eyes. you looked beautiful tonight, like usual. he was fucked.
“if you lot give us a song, it’ll be on the house,” you smiled hopefully, taking note of their usual orders just incase they agree.
“sounds like a plan,” hobie reached his hand out to you, open for a handshake, to which you took. soft hands falling into his calloused ones, he couldn’t help but notice how nice it felt.
turning away, you left to get their usual set up sorted, feeling him still watching you, to which you threw him a smile over your shoulder.
it wasn’t unusual at all. his eyes would always find you. at the table with his mates, his gaze would swim through the crowd to yours. even on stage, lost in the moment with himself and his guitar, it was you he always found his eyes trailing back to. it wasn’t like the other men in the bar, it wasn’t predatory desire or lust, but it was warm. it was safe.
he had three options, really; confess himself to you as hobie brown, coming clean about the way he felt about you, the warmth in his heart that spread across his spine whenever you smiled at him, eventually having to come clean about his alter-ego. he could confess as spider-man, to which he’d have to come clean about his actual identity. or option three. stay silent and suffer in his own pity. bite his lip and pretend his heart wasn’t yearning for you.
but, he prided himself in being able to speak his mind without hesitation. confident in his word, suffocated in his silence. he would always say: if he ever bit his tongue, to kill him there and then. well, here he is; begging for mercy at the barrel, his tongue bleeding from keeping his heart locked in his chest.
he was fucked. well and truly.
“anything special happen today?” spider-man nudged you, taking a worried note of your unusual quietness recently. it was the same night, he’d picked you up like normal, and hopped along beside you.
“the band played again,” a swelling smile bloomed on your lips, “other than that, not really.”
your voice was hollow tonight. easily mistakable with your naturally soft tone, but to his trained ears, it didn’t feel right.
stopping immediately in his path, his bouncy steps ceasing, you quickly copied him. confusion slipping behind your eyes.
“what’s up?” you questioned.
“you know you wanna tell me,” he stepped around you, arms falling over your shoulders from behind, heavy with his full weight. something about the mask, it gave him a confidence with you that he’d quenched as hobie.
you sighed and rested your head back against his chest, taking him by surprise. there was something intimate about the way your eyes were closed, body resting against him. your brain was hectic, he didn’t need his spidey senses to see that.
“there’s just…” you spoke, eyelids feeling heavy as you opened them, looking up to see him. head split in two, you were unsure if you even wanted to say it out loud, “there’s this guy.”
it was almost cruel how fast his heart dropped, plummeting like a boulder into the pit of his stomach. body stiffening, his head was spinning so fast he didn’t even have the conscience to mask it.
“i just can’t get him out of my head, it’s so stupid,” if your wistful look wasn’t answer enough, the outpour of dissonance he could feel from your body told him it was serious.
“not another fella tryna steal you from me,” he chuckled, but his voice was weak, vulnerable. you hadn’t heard it like that before.
untangling yourself from his weighted grip, you leant against the wall of the building you were stood in front of, staring up into the night sky. there was something so embarrassing about admitting a silly little crush.
“not another one, technically,” you spoke softly, a hint of a smile tickling your lips at the thought of him, he stepped closer, “i’ve already told you about him.”
and he stopped dead in his tracks. mind racing a million miles an hour, picking apart every word you said. was he stupid? was he reaching? seeing something that wasn’t there? he was the only one you’d spoken about, but surely not, right?
shifting closer again, his body begun to feel the heat radiating off you, barely an inch between you both. he towered you, as always, the spikes on his jacket and mask hitting the streetlights perfectly, giving him an orange glow. you bought yourself to look at him, and though you couldn’t see the eyes beneath, you felt his gaze.
insufferably close, closer than you’ve ever been, you could feel your heart in your chest. a tension that you hadn’t quite felt before, bubbling in the air between you.
“say his name, love,” his voice was low, lower than normal, and a twinge of familiarity hit your chest hearing the deeper tone, one you couldn’t quite pinpoint. chills dripped down your spine at the new found feeling.
gulping, you could feel his name in your throat, struggling it’s way out.
“hobie.” your voice was barely above a whisper, but considering he almost had you pressed against the brick, he heard every syllable. and god, did it sound good.
“again?” he croaked, just wanting to confirm, needing to hear it again, needing to hear you say it, relish in every beat.
“hobie,” you repeated, louder this time, more conviction in your chest, “i like him, like a lot.”
he went silent. dead silent, barely moving. heat radiated from him, and you could’ve sworn in the vacancy of sound that you could hear his heart pounding against his chest. reaching up, your hand trembling slightly, you placed it there. on his chest, feeling the material of his suit, the humanity of his heartbeat. he melted into it.
“are you o—“
“i need to tell you something.” he interrupted you.
it was your turn to be silent, eyes heavy with intrigue, begging him to continue.
without a word, his ring-clad hand ghosted your skin, drifting past the air between you and to the base of his mask, sliding along his neckline for the seam, and dragging it up over his face, revealing the man within.
your heart stopped, a thousand things flashing through your head, through your heart, surging in your bloodstream. you didn’t even know what to say, what to think, how to comprehend it.
“hobie?” your voice was small again, shrunk beneath the look in his eyes, the desire.
embarrassment waved through you for a moment, a sudden panic of the earlier confession, your chest pounding at the possible rejection.
he didn’t even leave the thoughts enough time to fester, however, because his hand that was holding his mask was suddenly flush against your jaw, the material falling softly onto your neck. thumb trailing the comfort of your cheek, revelling in the feel of your skin, warm against his hands, he leaned forward.
his lips were on yours, without a word. gentle, but rough. the tension escaping through the feeling of him pressed into you, desire leaping out of every shared breath. his other hand fell to your waist, and yours stayed firm on his chest, bunching the fabric in your hand to bring him closer. he obliged, of course, and the kiss deepened. his head spun.
pulling away for breath, you kept your eyes on his lips, disbelief swimming around your brain, colliding with the need to kiss him again.
“y/n,” his hand brought your eyeline to his, “i like you, too.”
you couldn’t help but smile, relief washing your body out.
“like, a lot.”
he kissed you again. and again.
a/n: hope u enjoyed!! pls let me kno if ur did, this is my first time writing for him <3 thanku!!!
#hobie brown#hobie spiderverse#hobie#atsv hobie#hobie my beloved#hobie x reader#spiderman atsv#across the spider verse spoilers#across the spiderverse#hobie brown x reader#hobie brown x you#spiderpunk#spiderverse#spiderverse x reader#spiderman#spiderman x reader
3K notes
·
View notes
Note
Hii!!! Your blog is literally so perfect. Love it.
Could you recommend some more angsty fics where either Derek or Stiles is really insecure and has low self esteem? Happy ending only, if that’s alright. I really appreciate it!
Aw thanks anon! There's already an insecure!stiles tag so I focused on insecure!derek.
The (Tell-Tale) Heart Doesn’t Lie by novemberhush
(1/1 I 100 I General I Sterek)
After a little gentle teasing unexpectedly hits a nerve with Derek Stiles is quick to reassure him that he knows there’s more to the handsome werewolf than just being really, really, really ridiculously good-looking.
I Know the Pieces Fit by shealynn88
(1/1 I 2,700 I Teen)
“Stiles?”
It’s Derek’s voice, quiet in the dark with the low hum of the pack behind him.
Derek's the hardest one for Stiles to understand. Sometimes he thinks…but then it becomes clear, it’s not like that. Derek tolerates him. Appreciates his loyalty, at least. The way Stiles appreciates the brave hiss of a kitten. Cute. Admirable. But not equal.
And Dwell Beneath My Shadow by lielabell
(1/1 I 8,695 I Mature)
Derek is not stupid. He gets why Stiles puts up with him. It's clear every time Stiles looks at him, the spicy scent of lust and arousal Stiles's body can't help but put off. It doesn’t surprise him. Not at all. Derek knows what he looks like, knows that his face and his body are more than enough to compensate for his shitty personality. Stiles wants him more than he is annoyed by him. Nothing more, nothing less. It's not anything to be amazed over, nothing to write home about. Stiles isn't the first-- and most likely won't be the last-- hormone soaked teen who has panted over Derek.
Cliche by adult_disneyprincess (orphan_account)
(2/2 I 9,305 I Teen)
It’s cliché as shit, Stiles thinks. The nerd in love with the punk. He figures he wouldn’t want Derek Hale so much if he didn’t have those fucking tattoos everywhere, didn’t give a shit what people thought about him, and didn’t wear those stupid leather jackets. They’re not the same jacket either, Stiles has counted at least four different ones that the resident punk owns
Cross a Canyon (with a broken limb) by theroguesgambit
(1/1 I 18,010 I Teen)
“You never graduated,” Stiles says, just to say it. To test it out in the open air. That's... huh.
--
Stiles spends his senior year battling troll-gremlins, taking on an unexpected tutoring job, and definitely not falling for a certain sourwolf (even though everyone else seems to think he is).
Defying Convention by rororowyourboat
(13/13 I 24,331 I Teen)
Stiles is a newly certified fully-trained Spark, and he's on the market to chose a werewolf pack to act as Emissary for. The biggest problem? Almost every pack in North America wants him, and he's supposed to choose a pack at the 3-day conference. But how's he supposed to get to know any of the likely candidates when they're just being so damn polite and respectful?
Derek and his sisters are at the conference with bleak hopes: their pack was decimated by hunters years ago and their caustic attitudes have turned away most potential applicants.
Rarity by peanutbutter4lyfe
(8/8 I 29,837 I Explicit)
Derek let's the guys throw a party for Stiles' 18th at his loft and instantly regrets it. During the party Derek starts acting strangely, his senses going wild. He reads the signs and thinks Scott is his mate. It drives him crazy when Scott doesn't feel the same, until he figures it out... with a little help from Peter.
Thanks for Thumper, But I Prefer Cheeseburgers by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)
(1/1 I 58,399 I Teen)
The wolf’s head whipped around so fast, Stiles felt like he was watching The Exorcist.
Stiles wondered if he could just stand still enough to make the wolf think he was a tree. A very bright red and jean-clad tree. He doubted it, but one could hope.
He knew it was a lost cause when the wolf turned fully, lips pulled back from its sharp teeth—so very sharp, good fucking Lord!—and began walking towards Stiles.
“I didn’t see anything!” Stiles shouted, both hands out in front of himself and sweat instantly breaking out across his skin. “I swear to you! I didn’t see anything! I didn’t see anything! I won’t tell anyone! I won’t! I’ll keep this to myself, until the day I die! I promise! I promise!”
You're stronger than you know by Littleredridinghunter
(15/15 I 234,195 I Not Rated)
Stiles survives his encounter with Gerard and his goons, but it isn't easy.
The pack are letting him down again, his dad is not speaking to him, his life is just generally falling apart.
Until he has to get a bronze dagger to kill a siren and his whole world gets flipped on it's head!
My summaries are rubbish but I hope you'll still give it a chance!
261 notes
·
View notes
Text
one kiss (is all it takes)
At first, you regretted agreeing to going to the game with the boys. Turns out a hockey game can be a lot more interesting than you thought.
Or; You and Price get caught on a Kiss Cam.
Pairing: Captain John Price x Reader
rbs greatly appreciated!
WC: 1.5K
a/n: i have no idea how a hockey game - or the military - works. anyways. this was written in an hour, is barely edited and not beta read lmao
tags: just pure fluff and Soap being a smug lil bastard :))
Sighing, you looked at yourself in the mirror one more time, accepting that yes, you did look as tired as you felt, but at that point you had no choice but to make your peace with it and try your hardest to rock those dark eye circles. At least you supposed your outfit looked presentable enough, since even if you were incredibly tired, you still felt like putting some effort into your appearance, telling yourself it was for no particular reason - or person - at all.
It had happened a couple of hours before. Sitting inside the bar across the street from the dingy hotel you and your teammates were staying after a successful recon mission, Soap and Gaz had disappeared for some time, returning later with a couple of tickets to a local hockey game. You found it best not to question how they got those, and, to be honest, you never pegged either of them to be into hockey, much like yourself, but Soap seemed so excited that you didn’t have the heart to tell him you were not looking forward to it one bit. Admittedly, you suspected the same thing happened with Price, who accepted the invitation somewhat hesitantly - you knew north american sports weren’t really his thing - and you admired Ghost for just saying ‘no’ to Soap’s face before returning to his cup of bourbon without another word. So that led you to where you stood at the moment, regretting falling into Soap’s trap and longing for your hotel bed that looked oh so comfortable. A knock on your door took you out of your reverie. Opening it, you found the devil himself standing outside with a smirk on his face.
“Hey, L.t. Ready to go?” You rolled your eyes playfully at Soap’s nickname for your rank, humming in response while you fetched whatever you needed to go out from your room - making sure to grab a coat.
Gaz and Price were already at the end of the corridor, waiting for the elevator, and, after greeting them both with a wave of your hand and a smile, you had to pretend to be very interested in the instructions written on the fire extinguisher by the wall to avoid gawking at your superior. It wasn’t often you got to see Price out of tactical gear and without his beloved boonie hat, and the sight of him in a basic and slightly too tight t-shirt under his jacket was doing things to you. Being pushed close to him in the impossibly small elevator once it arrived, too cramped for four soldiers to fit comfortably into, did not help you in the slightest.
A short car ride later - and somewhat silent, since Soap had lost his aux cord privileges after the last time - you stood in front of the arena, swerving your way between the other attendees, except clearly less excited to be there. As the four of you looked for your seats, you wondered how long it would take for them to notice if you bolted to go back to the hotel and sleep, but decided against it. Soap and Gaz took the first two seats side by side, leaving you to sit at the other end, with Price on your left, and you found it both a blessing and a curse. As he removed his coat, clearly feeling too warm with the amount of people around, and left his bulky (and hairy) arms visible to the world, you decided it was more of a blessing. Not feeling like committing an HR violation, you scolded yourself to stop ogling at your unaware superior, too lost in your musings to realize he was side eyeing you with a knowing smirk.
The first period flew by. You had no idea what were the teams names, you just know they were currently sitting at 1x0 when the first intermission rolled around, and, surprisingly, you were having a lot of fun. The crowd’s high energy and Soap’s enthusiastic cheering - even though he had said in the car he had no idea who was playing - was enough to make you momentarily forget how tired you were from the mission, and the fact it happened altogether. It was very rarely you got to enjoy some down time with your teammates, and that alone made you feel glad you accepted Johnny’s invitation.
Checking the time on your phone, you started scrolling through the various notifications, getting so immersed in the screen that you didn’t notice the way people around you were suddenly staring in your direction. Feeling observed, you looked up to the sight of people hollering and cheering around you, and, for some reason, Soap was angling his body out of his seat to look smugly at you, to which you only replied with a quizzical arch of your brow, receiving a nod upwards in response. Looking at the direction he nodded, you realized the huge screen in the middle of the stadium now displayed a banner written “Kiss cam.”
Directly under a live feed of you and Price.
That definitely could not be happening.
Your blood froze, and you felt like you were both on fire and ice cold at the same time, trying to process what was going on in seconds. Instantly your brain conjured images of you watching with a side eye as Price rejected you publicly to the camera, probably sneering and making a “cut it out” motion with his hand, as if kissing you was something incredibly unimaginable. However, none of those visions came true, since, when you gathered the courage to actually look over to him - with what you imagined was a very wide eyed and flustered expression - he was actually calmly chuckling and smiling with that damn good looking smile of his. Looking this closely you could swear you saw a faint hint of red on his face as he turned to you with a very gentle gaze, clearly considering the idea and giving you a silent chance to back away if you didn’t feel comfortable with it. Of course, you knew that you would never even dream of shying away from an opportunity to kiss your very attractive Captain who you absolutely did not have a huge crush on, but he didn’t need to know that just yet.
So, seeing no resistance from you, he leaned in closer and brought one of his huge hands to rest delicately holding your face, as if you were made of glass, and you felt like your heart stopped beating. Up close like this he smelled faintly of the cigar he liked to smoke and cologne he must have put on when you returned from the bar to get ready to leave for the game, and his blue eyes never looked so intense. You saw him smirk when you leaned in to meet him halfway before letting your eyes flutter close and your lips finally meet.
Kissing Captain Price was even better than you imagined. His mustache tickled your top lip and, in the background, you could hear the cheering of the crowd - particularly Soap’s hollers and someone, who you imagined was Gaz, wolf whistling - but you drowned it all to focus on the feeling of John’s lips moving against yours in a kiss that lasted a second, but felt like an hour inside your head. As you expected it, he did taste exactly like the cigar he smelled as, and a hint of mouthwash, and you found yourself embarrassingly sighing into the kiss.
You decided you could spend a good few hours just kissing your Captain, but any second longer would be positively awkward for your audience, so, regrettably, you broke the kiss, almost going insane by the way he chuckled lowly against you before leaning back as well, giving the camera an uncharacteristic almost bashful smile. So much for not committing that HR violation. You didn’t find the courage to look anywhere, much less the damn camera, so you pathetically stared at your shoes instead, very aware of the way your face felt like a thousand degrees and you must have looked like a deer caught in the headlights. Distantly, you felt Soap’s eyes on you, burning holes in your face with what you imagined must have been the smuggest smile ever, but you didn’t turn to confirm your suspicions.
Within seconds, the kiss cam had moved on, as well as the entire crowd, and you were the only one still dwelling on it as everyone cheered on another couple put on display. Trying to convince yourself it meant nothing, you shook your head and tried to pay attention to what was going on in the arena, something cut short when John Price himself discreetly leaned over for your ear, not turning his body or taking his eyes off the screen above you.
“You know,” He started above a whisper with his deep, gruffy voice. “If I knew you were such a good kisser, I’d have done this a lot sooner.”
With that, he leaned back into his seat, hand crossed above his stomach and a satisfied smirk on his face as he pretended not to notice the way you stared at him with wide eyes and your mouth gaping open like a fish.
That was going to be one long hockey game.
#this man makes my daddy issues go brrrrrrr#capy.writes#cod#call of duty#cod mw22#cod mw2#cod mwii#call of duty mwii#call of duty mw2#call of duty modern warfare 2#call of duty modern warfare#captain john price#john price#price cod#price x reader#captain price#captain price x reader#captain john price x reader#john price x reader#soap mactavish#john soap mactavish#soap cod#kyle gaz garrick#gaz cod
4K notes
·
View notes
Note
I would like to request a Albino! Reader with Pomefiore version if you dont mind!! I really love your writing very much🥀🦇🦇
A/N: And the albino!reader series continues! I will admit, I had a lot of fun with this dorm, especially with Vil's part, I can only imagine how this man would react to our lovely albino!reader. Enjoy!
Tw: None
Request: Pomefiore with Albino!Reader
Headers and dividers made by @blueberry-pride and @cafekitsune
The first time that this beautiful man saw you, he quite literally had to pause in his steps
Granted, he had seen you from behind
You were sitting on a bench in the courtyard underneath a tree, a parasol over your head and a book in your hand
The first thing he saw was your hair that he swore was brighter than the snow that would fall in the winter
You wore quite a bit of layers but in such a way that they complimented each other, and yourself, rather beautifully
Having made his way over, and finally being able to see your face, he saw more to the reason for your state of dress, rather than being rather fashionable and protecting yourself from the sun, that is
You were albino
Now, you were not the first person who he had seen with the condition, but you were certainly the closest that he has ever been, and in his opinion, rather the most beautiful
It is what led to where you both were now, several weeks later, and inside the comfort of his room
He has just returned from Film studies and you had met up with him just outside of the Pomefiore mirror
The sun was setting, casting a rather beautiful glow, mostly on yourself that made you look quite literally golden, a color he thought looked beautiful on you
He was helping you with your skin care for the night. After many talk, you were both able to find the best routine for you, and it has become a favorite part of your evenings
Would you like to accompany him to his next modeling shoot? He wouldn't mind sharing the spotlight if it was with you
Let's be honest, this man already knew of both you and your albinism, he knows pretty much everything at this point
Became quite the expert on albinism as well, no matter the severity, but paid closer attention to your specific type
Now, Rook is a very outdoorsy person and as much as he would love for you to join him, he knows that with your albinism, that makes things a bit more difficult
It was how you both met after all
Rook has just been returning from the latest Science Club meeting to see you underneath a tree trying to mend your broken parasol
It didn't take a genius to find out why you were shielding yourself from the sun
And much like the gentleman that he is, offered his assistance
Walking you back to Pomefiore dorm, after you agreed to spend some time with him, his hat on your head, his jacket over your shoulders
In his words, everything was history after that
You often went with him outside on days that were more cloudy where you would not have to worry about the sun as often
And on days where the sun was bright and shining, you would go with him for club activities, or join him in Pomefoire, he was happy either way, so long as he was able to spend time with you
His family has a home further north away from the heat and the sun isn't as bright. Perhaps you would like to join him there this summer?
Another boy who spent much of his life outside working on an orchard in Harveston
The upside to this, it wasn't as hot being that far up and in the mountains, which would make it a perfect place to visit
He had met you after magic shift practice after you had finished your own club activities and at first, thought you were much like Vil in not wanting to damage your skin with the sun
And in a way, he was right
But you had a very different reason
And after hearing how the sun can actually cause severe damage to your skin and eyes, due to your albinism, and how heat wasn't the best thing for you, he did feel a bit bad at first for the thought that you were like Vil, but kicked into gear in offering to help you back to your dorm
He offered his jacket as he used it to shield your shoulders and back from the sun
Rook saw this and reported back to Vil, given Epel hadn't shown up for his lessons...... Vil let it slide
After helping you back to your dorm, he certainly was very much like a charming country boy, seeing how his natural accent made you smile all cute like that
Several weeks later and you were underneath a shaded section of the bleachers, cheering Epel on, wearing one of his shirts during a magic shift game
His dorm members and fellow players saw that day just how intense he could be in a match and the players are inviting you back for every game
Wanna join him for winter break in Harveston? It would be perfect for you there.....and he's already told his grandmother so much...
Thank you for your request! Have a wonderful day/night!
#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#twst#twst x reader#disney twisted wonderland#twst imagines#twst vil#twst rook#twst epel#twst vil x reader#twst rook x reader#twst Epel x reader#twst pomefoire#x reader#requests open#matchups closed#shy writes#shy answers
187 notes
·
View notes
Text
“Keith, I need a favour.”
Keith stops in his tracks. Slowly, he sets down the helmets he’s holding, freeing his hands, then holds the phone out in front of him. He ponders it carefully.
“I could throw you into the sea,” he says to it. He does some quick calculations. If he drives to the nearest seafront now, he will be approximately twenty-three hours late to his date with Lance by the time he gets back. However, if he skips the fanfare and drops his phone into the disgusting oil-filled puddle right next to him, he can proceed to his date on schedule.
“Decisions, decisions,” he muses. Fanfare is important. Dropping his phone into a puddle is whatever. It’s derivative. But dropping his phone into the North Atlantic…now that is revolutionary.
“Fucksake. Keith,” sighs the voice coming from the phone. “If you don’t answer me, I am going to change the Netflix password.”
Keith frowns. “Hey.”
“Thank you,” says Shiro emphatically, “you brat.”
“Netflix is sacred,” Keith protests. “You can’t joke about the Netflix. I am a delicate orphan, Shiro. What will happen to me if my primary care figure breaks his promises? I’ll regress and act out and end up in prison. Do you want me to end up in prison?”
“A little, honestly.”
“Gasp, Shiro. Gasp. How dare.”
“I think you should consider a degree in the dramatic arts.”
“I think you should eat my farts.” Keith snickers. “Hey, that rhymed.”
Shiro sighs, long and loud, and Keith can practically see the smile twitching on his face. “Where did I go wrong. Truly. To think I tried to raise an upstanding young man, respectful to his elders, happy to help when needed. Shame that you’re a gremlin and a changeling.”
Keith rolls his eyes. “Blah blah. Get to begging for my help. I have places to be, old man. A new jacket Adam bought me to wear in front of pretty people. Well, one pretty person. Anyways.”
“God, you’re whipped,” Shiro says, and Keith ignores that because if he doesn’t he’ll combust. “You and Lance going out?”
Keith tucks his phone between his ear and his shoulder, picking the helmets back up and continuing his walk to his bike. “Yep.”
“Where’re you going?”
“Dinner at Caribella. It’s an excuse for a ride, really. Maybe walk around downtown for a bit.”
“Sounds fun. How much more fun would it be with your little sister, huh?”
Keith stops for the second time. He can see Red maybe fifty metres away. He looks at her mournfully.
“So close,” he despairs quietly, then turns back to his phone. “Not super fun, Shiro. Since she’s, you know. A year old. And a date is something you traditionally do with your boyfriend. Alone.”
Shiro makes a weirdly strangled noise halfway between a laugh and a stressed croak. “Well! The thing is.”
Keith waits. No thing is listed.
“Shiro.”
“It’s no big deal! Really.”
“Oh? I guess I’ll just hang up, then —”
“It’s just that Adam and I are at his sister’s, right, and —”
“There we go.”
“And we have a sitter. Obviously. All is well. Except, you know. The storm forecast. And everything.”
“And you’re four hours away with a car that you haven’t put snow tires on yet,” Keith surmises. He looks forlornly at his bike, sitting all pretty in her parking spot, freshly polished red paint gleaming under the fluorescent lights of the parking garage. So, so close. “You dumbass.”
“The forecast was clear this morning!”
“You’re a dad! You’re supposed to know these things!”
“Well!”
“Can’t the sitter just — stay? Overnight, or something?”
He feels bad. Any other day, he’d be happy to have Hana over, or go stay over there. He does it all the time. Hana is the coolest. He has no idea how she’s the daughter of the two biggest goobers he knows. Hell, he’s already got plans to watch her this Thursday, so Adam and Shiro can go to their old person museum date thing.
But he has plans tonight.
Fuck.
“She’s sixteen, Keith,” Shiro explains, sighing. Keith envisions his brother slumped against a wall somewhere, rubbing over the scar on his nose. “She’s too young for that. She’s Adam’s friend’s daughter, and she’s a sweetheart, but she’s got school. She can’t be responsible for a baby overnight.”
“No, I — I figured.” He drags his free hand down his face. “You need me to go over there?”
“Yeah. Mara – the sitter – can’t drive yet. Her parents are coming to get her in an hour.”
Shiro’s voice is quiet, subdued. He sounds guilty. Keith hates when Shiro is guilty. He covers his hand over the phone so Shiro can’t hear, screams a little, breathes deeply, then forces a smile wide enough that it will bleed into his voice. Hopefully.
“It’s fine, Shiro. Seriously. Lance and I’ll reschedule, Hana and I will make sure to fuck up your Netflix profile. All is well.”
“Thank you, Keith. I owe you.”
It is a dire thing when Shiro doesn’t complain about Keith messing up his Netflix profile. Once, three years ago, Keith forgot to switch the TV in their living room and watched some Hallmark movie as he sketched, just to make noise in the background. Shiro made snide comments about his taste for three months, because he’s a pretentious indie loser who watches shit like Empire unironically.
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll start a tab.”
That, thankfully, makes Shiro snort. “Brat.” He brightens. Keith can almost hear the ding of a lightbulb going off in his head. “Hey, I know it’s dorky, but maybe you and Lance can still go on your date! Me and Adam used to when you were little, in the old apartment.”
Keith furrows his brows. “What, like when you marathoned Lord of the Rings on the shitty futon and ordered the greasiest pizza known to man? That’s not a date.”
“Is so! We enjoyed it, you had pizza so you weren’t having a tantrum, what else could we need?”
“You guys have been weird old people your whole entire life. Did you know that?”
“Only because you aged me. You pain. Anyways. Go pick up my daughter, or you can stay at our place. Minivan keys are where they always are. I gotta go. Love you, kiddo.”
“Ugh. Love you too.” He hangs up, blowing a raspberry at the phone. “Minivan keys are where they always are, he says. What a soccer mom.”
He stares, hands on his hips, at his bike.
What to do, what to do.
He really doesn’t want to cancel on Lance. It’s been a couple days since they’ve seen each other, because Lance’s job hates him. Plus, Hana isn’t very fussy. It’s kind of dweeby and embarrassing, but. Well. Lance likes kids. So it could be fine, honestly.
“Hana first,” Keith decides, nodding to himself. He lifts the seat compartment under the bike and shoves the extra blue helmet in, strapping on his own and starting Red up. To bring Lance to Shiro’s for an embarrassing old person date, or to cancel. That is the question.
Eh. He’ll decide on the ride.
— — —
He does not decide on the ride.
“What do you think,” he asks his sister, lips pursed. She gurgles happily at him from her high chair, shaking her soggy-Cheerio-covered fist at him. “I mean, you go to bed in a couple hours. So it’s not like it’s pure babysitting.”
“Abdalalala,” she says, which Keith translates to mean actually, now that I know you want me to sleep, I will spend tonight completely resistant to sleep, as karma. Enjoy.
“That’s rude,” he informs her.
You’re batshit, says the Pidge that lives in his brain. Also, quit procrastinating.
“Ugh,” he says, out loud. He pulls out his phone and hesitates over Lance’s contact.
to: lance <3
hey you like kids right
from: lance <3
oh my god
from: lance <3
keith, are you…
from: lance <3
pregnant??????
Keith laughs.
to: lance <3
you are not funny
from: lance <3
i’m hilarious actually it’s a tragedy
from: lance <3
i carry the burden of knowing i am solely responsible for my friends’ good humour
from: lance <3
heavy is the head that wears the crown. pensive face emoji solidarity fist emoji broken heart emoji
Keith refuses to dignify that with an answer. Also, he has been informed by Lance’s best friend that if he ignores the emoji bit it will go away eventually. So far it’s been going strong for three months, though, so Keith’s not certain. He can only hope Hunk is correct.
from: lance <3
anyways yah i like kids why
to: lance <3
how much cooler and charming would i be if i picked you up in a minivan. with my sister
from: lance <3
aw, keith!
from: lance <3
to be coolER and MORE charming you have to be cool and charming to begin with :)
from: lance <3
and you are a dweeb 💖
from: lance <3
sounds good tho
from: lance <3
Bring Forth The Child
from: lance <3
oh also bring forth burritos on ur way over
from: lance <3
i’m hungry
Hana yells and bangs on her tray. When Keith looks up, she lobs a Cheerio at him. It hits him squarely between the eyes.
“You’re right,” he says sagely, peeling it off and flicking it back at her. She shrieks in joy. “I cannot let this shit slide. I cannot simply allow myself to be roasted, Hana. I must have self respect.”
She blows a raspberry at him and bangs harder on her tray. Baby conversations are, honestly, riveting.
“Exactly, squirt. You get it. Let’s get cleaned up and go, hm?”
— — —
He picks up burritos on the drive.
Hana laughs at him.
— — —
He’s hardly pulled up in front of Lance’s apartment building when a blur streaks across the front walkway, yanking open the van’s side door.
“Oh, hell-o, precious darling!” gasps Keith’s boyfriend, tumbling into the backseat and slamming my the door shut behind him. “Hi, Hana! Hi hi hi! Aren’t you the bestest ever? You are!”
Hana, evidently pleased with the attention, babbles something incomprehensible and pats Lance’s cheek. He melts, babbling something so quickly it’s equally incomprehensible and shaking her hand. Keith watches, torn between endeared and affronted.
“Hello, boyfriend I have not seen in days,” he deadpans. “Yes, I missed you also. No, I don’t mind at all that you leave me to wither away, alone, in the front seat. Excellent chat.”
“You have a very very grumpy brother, don’t you, Hana,” Lance coos. His shoulders shake with held back laughter.
“Lance, get your ass in the front.”
“But I’m meeting the baby!”
“She is not going anywhere! Meet her at home! You turd!”
“Name-calling is not very nice,” retorts Lance primly, crawling over the console and finally settling in the passenger seat. “What kind of example are you setting, huh?”
He leans over the armrest once he’s buckled in and kisses Keith gently, cradling his hand against his jaw and tilting their heads together. He smells, as he always does, of flowers and sunshine, and Keith sighs as he sinks into the softness of him, the curve of his smile and nip of his teeth.
“Hi,” Keith murmurs, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth, his chin, and then squarely on the mouth again.
“Hi,” Lance responds, a little breathless, grinning widely. His hair is damp and curling at the edges. He’s left out his contacts for the night and the gold lenses match the gold flecks in his brown eyes. Everything he’s wearing is stolen right from Keith’s closet, except his socks, which are bright purple and covered in obnoxiously orange weiner dogs. Keith is so in love with him that the intensity of it embarrasses him, and he pulls away, face red, very interested suddenly in adjusting is rearview mirror.
Lance, knowing, only smiles.
“These are for you,” he says gruffly, shoving the paper takeout bag at Lance’s chest. Lance wastes no time digging through and shoving half of one in his face.
“Aw, baby,” he says, mouth completely full. “You’re literally the best. Sweet, attentive, manipulable, obsessed with me. Everything I intended when I did the love spell on you.”
Keith eyes Lance from his peripherals. He’s digging through his patched backpack, face completely serene. Keith is reminded of the actual sigil he has tattooed on his ankle. (He’s very familiar with it. It’s often right at eye level. Hard to miss, really.)
“…You’re a strange, strange man.”
“Anyways!” Lance continues, visibly gleeful. Keith reminds himself to focus on the goddamn road and remember his sister is watching with her giant wide eyes in the backseat, probably committing all his embarrassing actions to memory to report to Adam the second she is capable of speech. “I brought lots of movies. Mostly Jurassic Park, but also some educational stuff for the baby. Ghostbusters, High School Musical, you know. All that good stuff. And I stashed popcorn behind your microwave last time I slept over so we’re set for snacks.”
“Oh, we’re going to my brother’s place, actually, ‘cause Hana’s more comf— wait, behind the microwave? Why behind?”
“Wait, wait, hold on. We’re not going to your place?”
“No,” Keith says carefully. “I have some baby stuff in my apartment, but not a lot. Plus, Shiro has a better T.V. and also Adam just bought Moose Tracks. So.” He slows to a stop at a red light, noting Lance’s odd expression. “That okay?”
Lance screws up his face for a second, thinking. “I’m pretty sure? As long as there’s an extra toothbrush there. I have one at your place so I didn’t bother bringing one. And I guess I can survive a night without my face serum, but if I get one single wrinkle we’re beefing.”
“You’re not gonna get a stupid wrinkle,” Keith grouches. “And why would you get pissy if you get a wrinkle? We’re gonna get them eventually, and you —”
“‘We’?” Lance teases. “You gonna grow old with me? Gonna marry me someday, Kogane?”
“—can even use Shiro’s face stuff, anyway, I’m sure it’s the same.” Keith clears his throat. “And plus —”
His voice cracks horribly. Lance makes a valiant effort to keep his giggles to himself, but as Keith face continues to get hotter and hotter he loses control and laughs, head thrown back, adam’s apple bobbing with every hitched breath. His laughter sets Hana off, too, both of them encouraging each other’s ridiculousness until they’re as red as Keith is, gasping for breath.
“I hate it here,” Keith mutters darkly. “I’m turning around and bringing you back. You’re the worst. Why do I go out with you.”
Lance, barely recovered, makes kissy faces at him. “Because you want to maaaarrryyyyy meeeee, you think I’m seeeeexxxyyyyy, you want to kiiiiisssss meeeee —”
He cuffs Lance in the back of his head, pretending to check his blindspot and ignoring Lance’s cries of spousal abuse. “I actually just want you to watch Miss Congeniality twelve percent less often. For your own mental health.”
“Lies and slander! Peddling of falsehoods! Perjury and defamation!”
“I’m burning your thesaurus.”
“And now threats! Hana, you shall be my witness! I will testify against you in court! You will be jailed! I will visit you twice monthly!”
“That’s the second person today who wants me in jail,” Keith comments, pulling into Shiro’s driveway. “You’d visit me even if you put me in there?”
“Well, duh. Have to make sure you don’t go around kissing cute criminal boys or I will become a cute criminal boy.”
“Right, of course. I should have known.”
“You should have, yes.” Lance leans over and kisses him on the forehead with an exaggerated ‘mwah’ noise. “But it’s okay, I like ‘em a little dumb.”
“Help me get the diaper bag, goober,” Keith snorts, shoving him away. “I want to get inside so I can have a burrito before you eat them all.”
———
Lance was not kidding about High School Musical.
Obviously.
“Do you want her to grow up with no understanding of community, Keith,” he scolds, and pays no mind when Keith replies, “Well, she has a family, dude, so I’m not worried.”
They watch the stupid musical.
Keith is horribly endeared by Lance’s extensive knowledge of the choreography. Lance is horribly appalled at Keith’s ignorance. Hana is intrigued, mind body and soul, by every scene with Sharpay Evans. Keith assumes this will be a problem for Adam in the near future, and resolves to make that problem worse.
All this to say he’s having a very embarrassing night, in terms of mushy thoughts and feelings.
“I can’t wait to have kids of my own someday,” Lance sighs, a very sleepy Hana tucked into the crook of his arm. He watches her, soft, and Keith pauses with a DVD held loose in his hand, enraptured, because there’s a curve to Lance’s smile that he’s never seen before, and suddenly his left hand looks bare. “I know it’s supposed to be stressful and everything, but I used to force Hunk to play house with me when we were kids. Literally every day. And when my neice and nephew were born I hogged them all the time, even when they were screaming. I dunno. Being a parent sounds awesome. You get to…like…grow a person. It’s like growing a plant but a bajillion times better, probably.”
“Yeah,” says Keith, softly, and without meaning to he’s thinking of Shiro’s tired smile and the gentle hand Adam lays on the back of his neck, of their door that was always open for Keith’s nightmares, of Shiro’s clothes ruffling as he slid to the floor and sat for hours as Keith screamed himself hoarse and cried for a mother who left. Of Adam’s boiling pots and gentle hands as he guided Keith around a chopping knife. Of both Shiro’s choked-off sobs and Adam’s right embrace as Keith came back, thirteen, in the middle of the night, scared and no longer angry, and their quiet I’m so glad you’re safe. Thank you for coming back. “Yeah, family is important.”
Lance hums. He’s quiet long enough that Keith looks up, realising for the first time his gaze has been locked, unseeing, on the pictures on the wall, of Shiro and Adam and the two of them together and with Keith and with Hana and with Keith and Hana. Lance is watching him, quiet, dark eyes knowing, Hana finally asleep in his arms, beautiful and strong and everything Keith has ever wanted, suddenly, at once.
“I love you,” he blurts.
Lance smiles. “I’ve noticed.”
“Oh, you dickhead.”
“I’m saying it back!” Lance says, snickering, free hand held up in surrender. Keith walks over and slots their fingers together, squeezing slightly, leaning in and holding, a second, a hair’s breadth away from Lance’s mouth, watching his lips part, feeling the heat of his breath. His words are breathless, near silent, mouthed as much as spoken. “You changed my life, you know. I made you chase me because I thought it was funny, but — I made Hunk get me your number from Pidge the night I left the bar. I was going to text you if your brother’s tweet didn’t go viral and cement your dorkiness for eternity.”
“That’s a lotta words to say ‘I love you’, dorkbrain.”
“I know. You make me nervous.”
“You never get nervous.”
“I do with you.”
“Yeah?”
They’re so close now that their lips brush with every word, and Lance is grinning, eyes crinkled and lashes fluttering against Keith’s cheeks, and Keith has a hand careful on Hana’s head so he doesn’t crush her and is smiling just as wide. Cheesy, dorky, corny, and everything Keith wished for after every romance novel he’d steal, fooling no one, from Adam’s shelf and read long after bedtime.
“Yeah. ‘Cause I love you. Even though you’re a dweebus and a simp.”
He is, really, because he lets Lance get away with that, kissing him to shut him up, to feel his laughter right up close. It’s sparks flying and warmth spreading and heart slowing, and in the gentle darkness of the night.
It’s the promise of more to come.
#i just love writing simp keith genuinely. ANS FIRST LANCE APPEARANCE IN THE HANA VERSE#vld#voltron#keith#keith kogane#klance#lance#lance mcclain#established klance#soft klance#whipped keith#broganes#keith & shiro#dad shiro#hana shirogane#baby hana#hana verse#my writing#longpost#banter
368 notes
·
View notes
Text
Seonghwa (Ateez) x male!reader
Burying the Hatchet
request ~*+ - masterlist ~*+ - part 1 of ??
summary: Though rival mob bosses separating their territories by north and south, m!reader and Seonghwa frequently bump into each other at socialite events. With tension building up in m!reader’s half of the city, he needs decide whether or not to confide in his connections for support.
( overview: mafiaboss!seonghwa, mafiaboss!reader, both socialites and well known, reader controls the south, seonghwa controls north, associates/goons = mob members, Ricky (zb1) feature because he’s very mob coded, reader is lowkey tsundere, established non-romantic relationship w/ eachother, reader inherits wealth, the park family = seonghwa’s mob group )
( warnings: mentions of plausible violence (guns/fighting), blood, injuries (scrapes/bruises/cuts), hostile personalities, mentions of psychotic/psychopathic behavior, threats, cursing )
emoji code:
🌿 ( long story/series )
-🧸 ( very light fluff )
🫧 ( pieces of angst here and there )
🪐 ( mafia / mob AU )
☁️ ( stands for y/n )
likes, comments, & reblogs r appreciated ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
Chatter echoed through a ballroom bustling of attires fit for only the most affluent. If it were up to him, ☁️ would be perched on the mezzanine, people watching until the gala had concluded. Instead, he walked into room preparing a flashy smile to anyone who would have the misfortune of catching his gaze.
“Can I take your jacket for you, sir?”
As ☁️ awaited the host of the gala’s presence, a teenage boy wearing a tuxedo approached him. The boy flinched slightly as ☁️ turned in his direction, ☁️ assuming he was just someone who worked there.
“No- I’ll keep it, thank you. Could you tell me where Ricky is, though?” ☁️ asked, turning his attention back to the crowd of people in the distance.
Though the two were the same age (early 20s), Ricky had made a name for himself apart from his parents- unlike ☁️. The man had the city’s media in a chokehold, with news of his whereabouts and appearances circling weekly. In contrast, ☁️ had inherited his parent’s wealth and “business” after their passing. The public also kept a close eye on him, but for reasons less alluring.
“Last I’ve seen he was on the other side of the room beside the DJ. Here’s your pamphlet.”
“Thank you.” ☁️ replied, him then taking the paper and watching the boy scurry away. He sighed as he flipped through the pages, reading carefully over the guest list and seating arrangements.
‘What the hell is Seonghwa doing here?’ ☁️ muttered to himself before taking a few steps toward the crowd. Recognizing a familiar face slip out of the mass and approach him with a smile, he quickly placed the pamphlet into his suit jacket as he walked.
“☁️, how have you been?” Ricky called out, waving to the man as the two closed the distance in between them. It was then that the two embraced, holding each other for a moment more. ☁️ noticed Ricky’s navy blue suit had a velvet look to it, him feeling the texture as he held onto the man’s forearms.
“I’ve been great, how about you? And what happened to the blonde?” ☁️ responded, smiling and then pointing to Ricky’s hair. The last time that he had seen Ricky, the man had bleached his hair a platinum silver. Now, his raven-black hair was slicked back, with a few strands falling onto his forehead.
“I’ve been better, and my roots grew out so I just dyed it back to a natural color. But listen, before you leave tonight, I’d like to speak to you. In the meantime, you need to do your rounds.”
☁️ huffed, knowing that this meant he had to greet everyone.
“We’ll be fast.” Ricky assured, once again grabbing the man’s arm and escorting him through the crowd.
☁️ smiled, introduced himself, shook hands, and kissed cheeks more times than he remembered that night. Following a conversation with a couple, Ricky led ☁️ out of the crowd, the two now standing for a moment.
“We done?” ☁️ asked, exhaling.
“One more. You aren’t going to like it, but please be respectful. I don’t want my gala to become a war-zone.”
“Is it Seonghwa?”
“Yes. But-“
“Why the hell did you invite him?”
“I do business with him just as I do with you. I’m prompting neutrality.”
“Understandable. But why do I gotta go over to him?”
“Because you two aren’t going to mean-mug each other all night like you did last year. That caused problems, did it not?” Ricky led ☁️ to his table, the two sitting beside one another.
“I don’t even have my guys with me tonight.” ☁️ argued, though he knew was simply delaying the inevitable.
“Neither does he. It’s invitation only this time.” Ricky’s tone was calm and fresh, though firm. ☁️ didn’t want to push his buttons, ultimately deciding to get it over with.
“Alright, let’s go.” ☁️ straightened his tie and stood up, Ricky following.
“Last I saw him he was standing beside the DJ’s stage. Let’s walk behind it.” Ricky said, motioning ☁️ to follow him.
The two tiptoed around the DJ’s elevated setup, emerging on the other side of the room after carefully stepping over wires and boxes.
“There he is. Behave, please.” Ricky whispered after leaning into ☁️.
“Always.” ☁️ muttered back before noticing that Seonghwa had three of his goons around him. The man leaned his back against a column and looked around the ballroom. He wore a bold outfit- a shiny gold top (that exposed some of his cleavage) with a brown fur coat and grey dress pants. His hair was in an up-do with strands hanging in front of his eyes, and silver chains dangled from his neck. ☁️ thought that Seonghwa was insanely hot, especially in this outfit, but would never vocally admit it.
“You said invitation only, Ricky.” ☁️ muttered through his teeth.
“It was... Let’s just make this quick.”
As the two approached Seonghwa, two of his goons noticed and walked over to his side.
“Seonghwa. I’m sure you remember ☁️.” Ricky chirped, hiding his nervousness very well. ☁️ and Seonghwa stared at each other for a few seconds before ☁️ forced a smile and held out his hand.
“I’m sure you’re well.” ☁️ remarked dully, watching as Seonghwa took his hand and squeezed. It took everything in ☁️ not to call him an asshole, but Ricky was luckily there to mediate.
“I am. It seems like you’re here alone tonight.. what a shame.” Seonghwa replied in his usual deep voice, ☁️ watching the man look him up and down.
“I’m here to donate to a charity, not intimidate socialites with my goons.” ☁️ kept a straight face, but wanted to laugh in Seonghwa’s face. “And you look rediculous.” ☁️ whispered after leaning into Seonghwa, only taking a step back when Ricky grabbed his arm and muttered a ‘Jeez.’ Seonghwa sneered and looked around in response, licking his teeth as he nodded in amusement. ☁️ could tell he was already ticked off.
“I’ll see you later tonight, yeah?” Seonghwa nodded his up as he spoke, patting ☁️ on the arm and nodding to Ricking before departing to his table with his goons.
“You couldn’t have made that any worse.” Ricky whined, furrowing his eyebrows as he looked at ☁️.
“Somebody has to humble him.”
“I don’t want any bad blood here, ☁️.”
“I said that I understood. If he can’t take criticism then maybe he shouldn’t be The North’s premier mob boss.”
“Well Southside’s premier mob boss seems to not know how to behave.”
“I was-“ ☁️ paused. “Well… He’ll be fine.”
“Right.. I’ve been meaning to talk to him so I’m going to do that now. The service should begin in the next few minutes. Make some friends while you’re here, you need them.” Ricky said before he began walking away. ☁️ gasped teasingly, the two smiling to each other as the distance in-between them grew.
—
His footsteps tapping up the staircase’s crimson-colored carpet, ☁️ was on the hunt for someone specific. He stepped onto the mezzanine and walked over to the beige railing, him then leaning against it. Scouring over the many faces on the dance floor and sitting at tables, ☁️ found that Seonghwa was nowhere in sight despite having seen him before the service had begun. Assuming that the man had left early, ☁️ frowned and turn around.
“Whatcha doin’?” Seonghwa asked, leaning against the wall a few feet in front of ☁️. The man’s goons weren’t next to him, but ☁️ could see them on the other ends of the mezzanine through the corner of his eye.
“I was looking for you. Have a minute?”
Seonghwa raised an eyebrow and walked over to ☁️, standing beside him.
“Make it quick.” He muttered, looking down at the people below.
“I received this letter a few days ago. I wanted to ask if you knew anything about it.” ☁️ pulled an envelope out of his jacket pocket and handed it to Seonghwa.
“People still write letters?” Seonghwa said with a scowl, pulling a piece of paper out of the envelope.
“So is it safe to assume that you weren’t the one to send it?”
Seonghwa took another minute to analyze the letter.
“No.. not my style... Whoever did hates you, though.” Seonghwa whispered, handing the piece of paper and envelope back to ☁️. “What’s the red stuff at the bottom? Don’t tell me it’s blood.”
“It is. Instead of signing a name, the blood is suppose to be the signature. That’s what I think, anyway.”
“Wow.. you really pissed someone off. Did you figure out whose blood it is?”
“Mine.”
Seonghwa laughed and turned to ☁️.
“So someone wrote a letter threatening you, somehow got ahold of your blood and smeared it onto the paper, and then mailed it to you?” Seonghwa shook his head with a smile. “Good luck, really. You need it.”
“I thought that you’d be more helpful. That’s all I needed, though. Have a good night.” ☁️ said, turning to walk away. Seonghwa quickly gripped his shoulder and stopped the man in his tracks. ☁️ to looked over his shoulder somewhat menacingly.
“Do you need help? Seriously.” Seonghwa’s unserious smile quickly turned into an expressionless display of concern, as he slightly leaned into ☁️.
“Never will I need your help. Stay on your side and I’ll be fine.” ☁️ quipped, brushing Seonghwa’s hand off of his shoulder and stepping away. He stopped upon hearing Seonghwa continue.
“I hate you.. but don’t die, please.”
“The hell are you talking about?” ☁️ snapped, looking over his shoulder again.
“That’s psychotic behavior, ☁️. You can’t just have one of your guys find and take care of ‘em.”
“Why not?”
“This isn’t just some guy on the street.”
“No shit.” ☁️ rolled his eyes. “I have to go, Seonghwa.”
Seonghwa remained silent, watching as ☁️ strolled back down the staircase.
“How the hell did they know it was there?” ☁️ walked up the stone walkway to his home, with two of his associates following beside him. The mansion had been broken into, with a suitcase full of hard drives having been taken from ☁️’s chambers.
“Respectfully sir, we suspect a mole in the group. After the passing of your parents, the associates haven’t necessarily been well-monitored.” The older man beside ☁️ replied, opening a door for him as the three arrived to the entrance.
“Please get in touch with the gentleman who set the security systems up.” ☁️ paused as he stepped inside. “Actually, I’ll just do it. You two should go home for the night.”
“But sir, we really think someone should stay with you until everything’s resolved.” The second associate replied, following ☁️ as he unbuttoned his suit jacket in the spacious living room. The room glowed in orange and yellow hues from the lit fireplace. ☁️ sighed and turned to his two henchmen, a sense of nervousness trickling down his spine. He wondered if he could trust them, but also wondered if there truly was an outsider out to get him as Seonghwa suggested.
“I’ll take care of myself and this.. situation. Please, go home.”
“At least let me contact the programmer. I’ll get him here as soon as I can.”
“Thank you. I’ll see you both tomorrow.”
1 week later
“Two events in a row? This must be a record.”
☁️ felt a tap on his shoulder and turned around. Seonghwa smirked, looking ☁️ up and down. “I didn’t think you’d come.”
“Wasn’t sure why you invited me.” ☁️ replied, crossing your arms.
“Oh, here I thought that you wanted to support charities..”
“You held a gala one week after Ricky and invited me on short notice.”
“Seems that I did. So?”
☁️ exhaled. “Thanks but I should go.”
“Wait.” Seonghwa held his hand out to stop the man. “I heard things weren’t going well on your side of the city. You sure you don’t need help?”
☁️ looked around the crowd of people surrounding him. This ballroom was smaller than the previous gala’s, but just as loud. ☁️ leaned into Seonghwa, who reacted by leaning forward as well.
“If I find out that you’re playing me again, it won’t end up for you.” ☁️ murmured into Seonghwa’s ear. Seonghwa leaned back up, with a seemingly offended expression.
“Are you accusing me of what’s going on?”
“No, simply warning you- just in case. I need to go.”
“☁️.”
☁️ turned around and slid past people to get out of the crowd.
“☁️!!”
☁️ froze as the room went silent. Everyone turned to Seonghwa as ☁️ slowly turned around to glance back at the man. An awkward silence filled the air for a few seconds, with Seonghwa not taking his eyes off of ☁️. After the chatter picked back up, ☁️ continued out of the room, leaving an abandoned Seonghwa alone on the dance floor.
☁️ walked through the hallways and toward the glass double doors, waving down a bellman as he did so.
-
A few photographers stood behind red ropes, clicking their cameras immediately after ☁️ began descending quickly down the white staircase. A few began shouting out to him.
“Hey, ☁️! What’re you doing in The North?”
“Have you and the Park family finally made amends?”
“You look great tonight, ☁️!”
☁️ smiled and waved as a bellman pulled to the curb with his grey sports car, getting out as soon as ☁️ reached the sidewalk. The bellman handed the keys to the man as the two walked past each other, ☁️ then jumping into the drivers seat.
“Hey, Mr. ☁️. The programmer was able to stop in today.”
“That’s great, has everything been recovered?” ☁️ responded as he walked into his home, an associate beside him.
“He said he needed a password.”
“To the computer? Why didn’t you call or text me? Is he available tomorrow?”
“He’s still here, just using the bathroom. I’ll tell him you’ve arrived after you put your password in.”
☁️ looked over to the associate after hanging his suit jacket up.
“It’s midnight.”
“It’s the only time he could come this week.”
☁️ raised an eyebrow and walked to his chambers past the living quarters and down the hall. After his shoes tapped echoed through the hallway, he leaned into the double doors, pushing them open. The lamp on his desk was already turned on at the other end of the room. ☁️ also noticed that the associate was still behind him, him turning to the man before walking inside of the room. He was suspicious at this point, hearing more voices in the living quarters.
“Why don’t you go let the programmer know that I’m back. Please tell the other associates that they’re good to go, as well. I don’t need anybody here right now.”
“You want us to leave you alone with the programmer? What if he tries to-“
“That’s an order. I’ll see you tomorrow.” ☁️ narrowed his eyes, allowing his voice to become slightly belligerent.
The associate sneered and nodded, turning around and walking toward the living quarters. ☁️ sighed and closed the chamber doors behind him, walking toward the desk in front of the large stain-glass window. Bookshelves covered the left and right walls, and though the room wasn’t huge, the ceiling was very high up.
☁️ walked around the other side of the desk, sitting down and tapping the computer’s keyboard to turn the device on. He didn’t put his password in, choosing to wait for the programmer to arrive. Another thirty seconds passed before the oldest associate opened the room’s doors, walking in.
“☁️. Do you have a moment?”
“Where’s the programmer?”
“I think he’s still talking to the other associates. I think we should speak in the meantime.” The associate called out, standing at the door.
“Come.”
The associate strolled slowly over to the side of ☁️’s desk.
“What did you want to talk about.” ☁️ asked, giving the man his attention.
“You know, your father and I were extremely close. He entrusted me to do everything beside him.”
“Yes, I remember.” ☁️ nodded, tilting his head to the side.
“He also hated the Park family with every fiber of his being. And I know that you’ve been going out of your way to attend Seonghwa’s galas.”
“To support his charity and rebuild my family’s reputation. Yes.”
“Do you think that your father would’ve wanted this? To knock down the legacy that he has built?”
“Excuse me?” ☁️ snickered. He felt his body become tense, and his tone dull.
“I just think that with you as the head of this.. well, what used to be a mob group, you’ve dug our reputation into ground.”
☁️ felt his body heat up, making him stand up and grab the associate by the collar. The associate responded by pulling a gun out from his back pocket and pointing it at ☁️’s head. ☁️ exhaled and let go of the man’s collar, putting his hands to his sides.
“You need to give this up, ☁️. It’s in your best interest. Your father wouldn’t want this.”
“And his inability to be harmonious with other people is what got him killed.”
“Put your password into the computer so I can put this gun down.” The associate muttered, tapping the gun against ☁️’s head.
“No.”
“Please don’t make me do this.”
☁️ laughed.
“You’re not gonna have the password if you do ‘this.’”
“Don’t mock me.”
“Don’t be an idiot, then.” ☁️ laughed again, pausing before quickly shuffling to the side and knocking the gun out of the man’s hand. The gun landed on the desk and slid across it, falling off on the other side. ☁️ leaped over the desk and grabbed the gun before the man could snatch it, ☁️ then kicking his knee out while still on the ground. The associate quickly stood up and ran toward ☁️ as he got on one a knee. With a loud bang, ☁️ shot the pistol, hitting the associate in the leg. The man fell to the ground and clutched his knee.
“Fuck.” ☁️ muttered under his breath, putting the gun on safety mode and into his pocket. He grabbed his computer from the desk and threw it through the stained-glass window, shattering it. The door then slammed open, with a bunch of ☁️’s members running in. After seeing the older associate on the ground, the group whipped their guns out and pointed them at ☁️. The man was already halfway out of the window at this point, him having jumped through the hole and falling into the bushes below. With scrapes and bruises along his body, ☁️ rolled out of the bush and secured the laptop beside him- though he presumed it broken. He shot up and ran alongside the mansion’s side, hopping over the iron fencing as soon as he reached the front of the building. ☁️ considered taking one of his cars, but quickly realized that the keys were still inside.
Continuing to run through the forest, he eventually emerged into the city after a few minutes. ☁️ noticed a university campus in front of him as he wandered, him power walking through it and waving a taxi down. He ran to its side and jumped in, him recognizing the driver as he did so. The two stared at each other through the rear view mirror before the driver smiled.
“Oh, right- you’re ☁️. I worked a lot with your father.”
☁️ froze with his hand on the car’s handle, preparing to run out.
“Your family has helped mine out a lot. But anyway, where to?”
“Can you just drive, please?” ☁️ asked nervously, his hand still on the handle.
“Sure thing.”
The two drove in silence for a minute before the driver pulled up to a red light.
“You alright? You look pretty disheveled there, chief.”
“Yes, just some work issues.”
The driver chuckled. “Your dad had the same problem. I’d always wait a block or two away after he handled business, and he’d come running over with ripped clothing and red fists.” He paused. “I’m a bit relieved that the whole mob business thing is dying, though. I hope you don’t mind me saying that.”
☁️ pondered his words, repeating them in his head before responding. “..Yeah, I’m relieved as well. Can I bother you to drop me off in The North?”
“Oh, sure. I heard that you buried the hatchet with the Park family. That true?”
“I think that’s what I’m going to do now.”
“I see. Is there somewhere specific in the North?”
“Do you know where that gala was held today?”
“Oh yeah, I’ll have you there in a few.”
“Thanks.”
-
“Well, it’s an honor to help you through this last hurrah. I hope it goes well.”
“Thank you sir. How much do I owe you?”
“You don’t look like you have anything on you, respectfully. Just get me back next time you see me.”
☁️ nodded and slowly turned around toward the large building in front of him. There were no photographers, no red ropes, and no people wandering around at this point. With his computer under his arm, he began up the steps.
Upon walking through the glass doors, a receptionist was packing her belongings in a large purse.
“Oh, Mr. ☁️. Are you looking for the gala’s after party?” She asked as the man approached her desk.
“Ah- yes, I am. Can you tell me where it is?”
“It’s down the hallway to your left, the last door down. Also.. you’re bleeding a bit..”
☁️ looked down to where she pointed, seeing small patches of red stain through his white button-up shirt.
“Oh.. yeah, it’s just part of the outfit. Thank you though.”
“Oh, ok.. Have a goodnight.”
“You as well.”
☁️ continued down the dark hallway, stopping in front of a frosted glass door with loud music playing behind it. Streaks of blue, pink, and white flashed across the glass as he pushed the door open. The room was pretty big, with confetti and balloons spread across the floor. A group of around a hundred people danced in front of a smaller DJ booth, with a few wallflowers conversing amongst each other with glasses in their hands. ☁️ walked over to a table full of champagne glasses, grabbing one and sitting in the nearest seat against the wall. He plopped down, leaning his head against the wall and chugging the glass. He looked around, though couldn’t see Seonghwa from where he was. It didn’t help that the room was somewhat dim, with pink lights illuminating half of the room from behind the DJ. Spotlights also casted quick flashes on the dance floor, them occasionally dancing across ☁️’s body as he sat.
Choosing to calm down before searching for Seonghwa, he opened his computer and tapped the keyboard. Surprisingly, it survived the seven foot fall and still worked- the only flaw being a few cracks in the top corner of the screen and a few missing buttons on the keyboard. ☁️ sighed and placed the computer on his lap, him then closing his eyes. 
-
“Psst. Hey, sleepy head.”
☁️ heard someone whisper from beside him, making him jump. He opened his eyes and looked to his left, seeing Seonghwa sitting beside him. He clutched his computer and looked around, seeing that everyone was preparing to leave the party. The music had stopped, and a few workers were vacuuming the carpet. Seonghwa’s face was barely visible in the dim, pink lighting, though his voice was softer than ☁️ had recalled. “So, you came back..?”
“…I think I need your help.” ☁️ hummed.
Seonghwa smirked. “I won’t rub it in your face even though I wanna. Do you need a place to stay?”
☁️ nodded, standing up as Seonghwa did. Seonghwa placed a hand on ☁️’s back, guiding him to the exit. The flashing lights turned into white spotlights that illuminated the exit at this point.
The two followed the crowd out of the room and down the hallway. As they walked out of the glass doors, ☁️ recognized the cars lined up on the sidewalk, with multiple bellman awaiting the guests at the bottom of the stairs.
“We’re all the way in the front.” Seonghwa stated, walking down the staircase with ☁️ and turning right down the sidewalk. A bellman approached the two, handing Seonghwa a pair of keys. He unlocked the red sports car and removed his hand off of ☁️’s back, hurrying in front of the man to open the vehicle door for him. ☁️ rolled his eyes and attempted to hide a smile as Seonghwa gestured him inside. As he sat down, ☁️ covered the patches of red along his top with his arms and hands. Seonghwa shut the door and ran to the other side, him hopping in and hurrying to start the car. After a few seconds, the two were speeding through empty city streets.
“Have you ever been to this part of The North?” Seonghwa asked with a tender tone, turning to ☁️ as he pulled into a lofty condo complex’s garage.
“This is my city. Of course I have.”
“Our city.” Seonghwa retorted.
☁️ smiled at the answer, opening his door after Seonghwa had parked on the highest level.
“We’ll have to take the elevator to the lobby, and then we’ll take a different one to my place.” Seonghwa stated from the other side of the car. ☁️ waited for Seonghwa to lead the way, but upon standing beside ☁️, the man froze.
“What the hell happened?! You’re bleeding.”
“I know.” ☁️ sighed, him having forgotten to cover the red stains.
“You’re explaining everything once we get inside.”
“Ok.”
Seonghwa linked his arm with ☁️’s, ☁️ speculating that Seonghwa thought he was too badly injured to walk by himself, which elicited the act.
The two quickly reached the elevator and stepped inside. With mirrors along the walls, a gold accent lined the corners of the elevator. Seonghwa leaned forward to press a button, and the two were soon moving up.
“Are you tired?”
“Extremely.” ☁️ replied monotonously.
“I could tell by your tone. You can take my bed and I’ll sleep in my guest room.”
“You don’t have to do that. I’ll take the guest room.”
“No. You can take the bigger bed.”
☁️ was too tired to argue back, instead choosing to lean against the mirror as the elevator continued. After a few more seconds, the door buzzed and the two walked through. The lobby’s lights were dim and the spacious room was empty. The men walked across the marble floor to another elevator, Seonghwa pressing the button again though the elevator doors opened immediately. The two walked through, and Seonghwa pressed the button of the highest number- 16.
“You’re on the highest floor?”
“Yes. It’s a penthouse with lots of windows , you’ll like it.”
The two stood silent for a few minutes until the elevator buzzed again, the men stepping out into a small walkway. Taking a few steps forward, Seonghwa flipped a switch, which turned on a small lamp above the two of them. He then pulled out his keychain, picking out a key and twisting it into the black door.
“After you.” Seonghwa said, gesturing ☁️ forward. Seonghwa’s penthouse was full of monotonous colors and exotic furniture- definitely a reflection of his personality. Small lamps lit the space as the two walked into the living room area. Large windows sat on each side of the walls, with the moon peering down from the large skylight above.
“I do like it.” ☁️ murmured as he moved his arm away from Seonghwa’s. Seonghwa simply smiled in response.
“Let me show you to the room.”
“Show me the guest room.”
“No.”
☁️ rolled his eyes, following Seonghwa down the end of the hallway. He switched his lamp light on, it illuminating the large bedroom. The walls, bedsheets, and furniture were all visually-pleasing shades of grey. The windows on the right side of the room touched both the floor and ceiling, stretching across most of the wall to reveal a beautiful view of the city. To the left, a door led into another room.
“Just sit on the bed. I’ll get you some new clothes and medical stuff.” Seonghwa instructed, walking into the bathroom. ☁️ walked to the bed and sat, him waiting for the man to come back out. After a minute, Seonghwa walked toward ☁️ with a small bottle, cotton balls, along with a roll of bandages and placed it beside ☁️. He then trudged over to the wardrobe across from his bed, opening it and throwing a pair of green and blue pajama pants with a white tee onto the bed.
“Those are old so they should fit you. Do you want me to get out while you change?”
“I don’t care, just turn around.” ☁️ replied taking off his pants and unbuttoning his top as Seonghwa faced his wardrobe. He threw the man’s pants on but put the tee around his neck, exposing some of his stomach and arms.
“Okay.”
Seonghwa turned around and sat on the bed. ☁️ pushed the shirt away from his arm for Seonghwa to clean.
“So, you gonna tell me what happened?”
“My associates tried to overthrow me and take over my company’s accounts. They said I wasn’t being a mob boss.”
“Is that where the letter was from?”
“I think they’ve been planning this for a few months now. They probably got ahold of my blood after your guys tried to take over my company’s building. Your goons show no mercy.” ☁️ chuckled, but Seonghwa frowned.
“I didn’t initiate that, by the way. That was my father, and we’ve.. talked about it.”
“It hasn’t happened again, so I don’t care.”
After a few seconds of silence, Seonghwa continued disinfecting, and then wrapping ☁️’s arm.
“So what specifically happened?” Seonghwa asked.
“Well, I got home from the gala. I was told someone was coming in to help me retrieve missing data from drives that were stolen after Ricky’s gala last week. I’m pretty sure they lied, and one of my guys cocked a gun at me and told me to unlock my computer so they could use the drives they stole. I didn’t do it obviously, and I ended up shooting him. The gun probably fell out of my pants when I jumped out of the window and ran into the city.”
“You jumped out of a window?” Seonghwa furrowed his eyebrows, seemingly worried. He wrapped the bandage around ☁️’s arm and clipped it so that it stood in place. ☁️ lifted his pant leg up to expose another cut, him then scooting back on the bed to put the cut beside where Seonghwa sat.
“Do you mind?” ☁️ asked, looking over to Seonghwa.
“Not at all.” He replied, preparing another cotton ball to use.
“And.. yeah, I kinda did. It was only six or seven feet and I landed in a bush. So it was fine. I used this to smash the glass.” ☁️ said, pointing to the computer that he placed beside him. “That’s why it’s fucked up.”
“I have another that you can use.” Seonghwa said as he applied alcohol to the cuts.
“I have important filled on there. I don’t know what I’m going to do just yet.”
The two remained quiet again until Seonghwa finished wrapping the wounds.
“Alright, you should be good.” He stated, grabbing the used cotton swabs and walking into the bathroom with them. ☁️ grabbed the alcohol bottle and roll of bandages, carrying them back into the bathroom for Seonghwa.
“It’s 2:30 in the morning. You should rest.” Seonghwa said, watching ☁️ sit back down on the bed, Seonghwa then walking to the lamp.
“Before you go-“ ☁️ blurted out, stopping Seonghwa.
“Hm?”
“Why’re you helping me?”
“What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean. Why’re you doing this for me?”
“Because I like you, despite the “conversations” we’ve had in the past. And we’re not like our parents.”
☁️ nodded.
“Sleep well.” Seonghwa called out, turning the light off.
“Wait-“
Seonghwa turned the light back on, exhaling. “Yes?”
“Sleep in your bed.”
“I already told you I’m sleeping in the guest room.”
“I don’t want you to.”
“Then move over.”
☁️ scooted back toward the wall with the windows so that Seonghwa could sit in front of him. Seonghwa leaned over to turn the lamp off before pulling the covers over the two of them.
“I’m glad you’re okay. I worried about you a lot.” Seonghwa muttered, him then turning his body to face ☁️.
“Shouldn’t have.” ☁️ murmured in response.
“Well, I did.”
☁️ smiled. “Well, thanks for worrying.”
Seonghwa smiled back, grabbing ☁️’s hand from under the blanket. “Do you mind?”
“No.” ☁️ hummed before turning his body around. He scooted his body back to lie against Seonghwa’s. Grabbing the man’s hand and pulling it over his waist, then two now laid together a spooning position.
“Goodnight, ☁️.” Seonghwa whispered.
“Goodnight.”
a/n: genuinely can’t tell if my stories are good anymore 😄 hope u enjoyed tho! alsoooo gonna be a part 2- just to follow up and see how the reader and seonghwa build a relationship together while the reader is still under the other mob’s protection. def gonna be more fluff and character development in that one!! there can be ❄️ if u guys want it bad enough lol
likes, comments, & reblogs r appreciated ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
#seungrem#x male reader#kpop x male reader#kpop x reader#kpop x y/n#x male y/n#request#request answered#ateez fanfic#ateez fic#ateez x male reader#ateez mafia au#ateez au#ateez angst#ateez fluff#ateez x reader#seonghwa x male reader#seonghwa x reader#seonghwa x y/n#seonghwa angst#seonghwa fluff#seonghwa fanfic#seonghwa fic#kpop angst#kpop fluff#kpop fanfic#mafia au#park seonghwa x reader#park seonghwa x y/n#mafiaromance
190 notes
·
View notes
Text
Hermits as birds from where they live/were born!
note: my knowledge is centered around North American birds, so sorry if the european ones aren't super accurate
Bdubs: Northern Saw-Whet Owl. He's just a little guy with big eyes. Small and evil, love him
Cub: Common Starling. Skulk like-iridescence, incredibly friendly. Plus, with Cub running the horn store this season, he NEEDED to be the bird that can imitate pretty much any noise it hears
Doc: Bonelli's Eagle. Large raptor found in Germany. It's straight "brow" and hunched posture remind me of Doc
Etho: Common Loon. THE! CANADIAN! BIRD! Despite being "common", their pattern is simply EXQUISITE Plus, it has a red eye! Also listen to the noises these things make, it's literally stock nature sounds all in one bird. Also, I'd put Etho on my one dollar coin.
False: Barn Owl. Very elegant owl, I just feel it suits her, that's all. Very stately posture.
Gem (Season 10 specifically): Great Blue Heron. It's a fisher, it's blue, it's menacing, what more could you ask for?
Scar (Hotguy): Double-crested Cormorant: A waterfowl bc scar did competitive swimming, it's got a slightly funky shape which I feel suits scar's personality. It also has the Hotguy colors!
Grian: Eurasian Bullfinch. Parrot Grian will not reign supreme. Look at that little guy. He's mischievous, he's red, I do not trust him.
Hypno: Stellar's Jay. My provincial bird! I just think both have very chill and cool personalities
Jevin: Lazuli Bunting. Just a little blue guy!
Impulse: American Goldfinch. Black and yellow, need I say more?
Iskall: Booted Eagle. Something about a stout raptor just feels right. Look at that posture. Reminds me of when Iskall tries to copy the brits' accents.
Joe: Turkey Vulture. Although seen as odd or menacing, all vultures are integral to the local ecosystem and are in actuality, very elegant and gentle birds.
Keralis: Boreal Owl. Yes, I did make the two guys with big eyes owls, What of it? LOOK at him. Put a little hardhat on him, put a little hawiian shirt on him. Precious sweet face.
Mumbo: Avocet. It's basically a vibe check and a mustache joke.
Peal: Black Swan. Big 5AM Pearl vibes. Giant, beautiful, protective. Love that for her.
Ren: Giant Kingfisher. Obligatory King Ren joke, it's a South African bird, and it's kinda goofy looking. I think the speckled feathers look like a ruffled fur collar on a king's cape.
Skizz: Golden Eagle. Large, majestic, hella strong, and he's wearing pants :3
Joel: Tree Swallow. Very small, beautiful, agile bird. The swallow's wings remind me of Asian art styles.
Stress: Magpie. GOR-JUS and LOUD. Imagine her next to Iskall (they're very similar in size, bless them)
Tango: Swainson's Hawk. I fought every bone in my body to not make an Arizona Cardinals joke when I already made a Phoenix Coyotes one maybe half an hour before. The Swainson's hawk is on the smaller size, but still a deadly spitfire, which I think suits Tango
TFC: Brown Pelican. A solitary bird, definitely a rare sighting. TFC was always joking about how much he would eat, I thought a pelican was apt
Beef: Barred Owl. MY FAVORITE OWL. I literally call them 'round beefy boys' and they're just so sweet and I love them
Wels: American Kestrel. I LOVE these little guys. Simply the smallest, cutest and beautiful falcon there is. They're about the size of a pigeon. It's just got such a regal posture despite being a little cutie.
XB: Rock Pigeon. Despite being common and seen as a "dumb pest", they are pretty intelligent, there's a reason they were used to carry messages around. They're also a close relation to doves! The green collar also is like the jacket collar on his skin.
Xisuma: Semipalmated Plover. X and Mumbo were both chosen because of how those birds run on the beach. They're RIDICULOUS. This subspecies is exclusively because it look like he's wearing a little helmet.
Zedaph: Firecrest. Just the GOOFIEST little guy I found on the wiki of British birds. Look at that thing /aff. Also, Zed do be blowing up a lot
Cleo: Partridge. Beautiful bird, looks like they want to kill you in your sleep, just like Cleo.
#long post#hermitcraft#bdoubleo100#bdubs#bdoubleo#cubfan135#cubfan#docm77#docm#falsesymmetry#geminitay#goodtimeswithscar#scar#grian#hypnotizd#ethoslab#etho#ijevin#impulsesv#impulse#iskall85#iskall#joehills#keralis#mumbo#mumbojumbo#pearlescentmoon#rendog#skizzleman#smallishbeans
159 notes
·
View notes
Text
OP Boys: Special Hugs (03)
Kid & Killer
(Short Scenarios)
WARNING: Kidd's part gets a lil NSFW. no need done, but suggestive.
Eustass "Captain" Kid.
♥︎ let's get one thing straight
♥︎ he doesn't do "hugs"
♥︎ no see he does this really creepy staring thing from a distance. He practically SENSES when you're in the room with him, and he turns his head and stares.
♥︎ he thinks he's subtle but he's really not
♥︎ what, you broke a knife? Here, have 20 more he made himself for this exact occasion. Why are you looking at him so weird? YOUR OLD KNIVES WERE TRASH ANYWAYS HIS ARE BETTER >:(
♥︎ also, weirdly specific way of flirting with insults that are actually compliments
♥︎ yeah, that energy.
♥︎ but fate leads to the weirdest shit, so..
"....a fucking sea-stone box."
"I tried to tell ya, Cap'n.."
Taking a look at your situation, there was no avoiding it. Your Captain just didn't listen to reason, it wasn't in his blood. Now, you were cramped against his chest in a tiny, sea stone box, that was only ever intended to hold him.
Not an extra human.
"Quit your damn squirmin." Kid grunted, flesh arm wrapping around you. It was pitch black, so neither of you knew where body parts were until you felt them out. "Tryna give you more room.." you muttered. Currently, you were awkwardly pressed against him: head just above his, hands on his shoulders, and legs resting on his. "No, you're tryna shove your tits into my face."
You could almost see the smirk with his words, "If I wanted my tits in your face, they'd be there! Now hush and let me move," you slowly twisted your body, hand grabbing his thigh for balance. His hand danced up your waist, half helping you turn your back to him.
"If I do this, you'll have more leg room." Which is something you figured he desperately needed, being damn near 6'5 and built like a tank, yet again, cramped in a tiny box that was sucking his energy.
"Mhm.. yeah. Yer gropin' my thigh, sweetie. 'S much as I love the energy, a box ain't the place we're gonna do this." You tightened your grip, chuckling out of pure annoyance: this absolute and utter piece of work-
"...Captain, for the love of all that's holy, shut the fuck up- please."
"So polite." He snickered, his lips now right next to your ear.
You successfully had your back against his chest now, knees brought up to your own, and dropped your head on them. You could hear Kid chuckling softly, his arm wrapping around your middle.
"The hell are you doing?" "Mmmmmmm...." He groaned in your ear.
Heat rushed up to your face. "What the hell?!" "Ya smell good." "Yeah well you smell like fuckin sweat so-"
He drew you closer, dropping his head ontop of yours, "when we get out of here.. so will you."
Long story short, if Kid had known what it'd take to get you so flustered and in his arms was to put you both in a cramped space.. well, let's just say this isn't the last time.
"Massacre Solider" Killer
• it takes a lot for Killer to get touchy Feely.
• Contrare to his captain's kinda horny love, his is, way more subtle. (Mostly because, thanks to the mask, you can't see him watching you.)
• when he decides he wants to try himself with you, he starts popping up. Everywhere.
• You're genuinely surprised he hasn't popped up while you're showering at this point
• however, Killer does have a weakness, being from the south blue. And that's the cold.
• see, you're from the north blue. You're used to it.. and so..
"...you're bundled up-"
"And youre.. not."
You quirked a brow, eyeing your Vice Captain. He was currently dressed in three of the puffiest jackets you'd ever laid eyes on, an ear flap hat over his mask, gloves, and the fuzziest pants ever. Meanwhile, you were dressed in a simple jacket, boots, regular jeans, and gloves.
"Ya look.. fluffy." You could almost swear he was still shivering a bit. "...Killer, you can head back inside. I've got the watch."
He shook his head, "'s better to have two people on watch." "In some cases, sure, but when the second person is so cold they're dressed like an old lady.."
You watched the blonde tense, "...I don't understand how you're not cold." You snickered, shaking your head. Snow was beginning to fall from the sky- you'd long since entered a winter biome. "I am cold, but not that cold."
"You're insane." "I think the same about you South Blue folk in the heat. North Blue folk are built for the cold."
Killer shook his head again, joining you in leaning over the rail.
"...you've been out here for a while. Let me take over." Killer said. He was right, but if he was the next in line.. "Thanks, killer, but I'll stay out here with you."
"Go inside. You're not dressed properly for this cold."
"Did you not listen to a word of what I just said- I'm built for this-"
"Did you not listen to what your Vice Captain just told you?"
"Sorry, don't see him. I do see a cold, stubborn child." You were careful not to use the term kid.
"."
"..."
"......"
"You're worse than Kid."
"I'll take that at face value and be insulted."
He sighed, "impossible."
A few hours later, you both were switching shifts with Heat and Wire. Walking into the kitchen, you stretched, watching Killer de-layer by the fire. A smirk tugged at your lips as you approached the masked man from behind, staring over his shoulder.
"The caterpillar emerges from its cocoon!" "Shut." He grumbled, removing his gloves last. His hands looked tenser than usual, likely because of the cold. So hatched your master plan of..
Grabbing his hands, and engulfing them with your own, and lifting them both to rest at your neck. Because of his mask, you couldn't see what he felt: but oh, if you could, this man was panicking.
Finally, he mustered, "...you're a human heater."
"That I am! Besides, neck, underarms, and .. between the thighs are the warmest part on any human. Thought you'd know that."
Silence. His fingers flexed and tightened at your shoulders, before, without warning, he had you picked up and thrown over his shoulder, stalking down the halls.
"EH? KILLER-" before you knew it, he'd thrown open the door to his room, tossed you on the bed, and quickly yanked a blanket over you both, snuggling into bed without even taking his boots off.
"...do I wann-" "...you're my personal heater. So sleep."
Well, he's wanted to do that for a while regardless.. holding you in his arms, lay on top of you.. the occasion was just too perfect not to throw rank around a bit.
#eustass kid x reader#killer x reader#kid x reader#one piece killer x reader#one piece x reader#eustass kid#killer
627 notes
·
View notes
Text
winter wonderland
summary - some fans spot you and harry at winter wonderland
word count - ~700
pairing - youtuber!reader x harry
Josie came back to the table her friends were at, with drinks in hand, just as the music changed to an Bublé song.
Josie’s friends, Paula and Rina, stood up at the table and started dancing like girls do - swaying their hips and hands in the air. They all screamed with excitement when Josie handed them their drinks.
It was Winter Wonderland in London and it was a great time to get drunk with your friends and sing lots of Christmassy songs.
“Baby please come hooome…” They all sung the lyrics very loudly.
They were having such a good time and they thought nothing could top this evening.
Until Josie spotted them.
“There’s a big group of people walking out of the VIP section.” Josie said to her friends, who were sat with their backs facing the VIP area.
Josie sipped her drink and pretended not to notice the group passing by, when in reality she was studying each person.
“Holy fuck…” Josie swore.
“What?” Rina said.
“That’s Harry Styles.” Josie gasped. “Oh my God and Y/N too!”
“No way.”
Both Rina and Paula turned, not caring if they drew attention to themselves. They aren’t missing the opportunity to see Harry and Y/N out together. It was such a rare sighting.
Sure enough, it was them.
Harry was in a yellow North Face jacket - one that he’d been sighted in before - with what looked to be black trousers and black vans. He had a beanie on, along with his hoodie up on top of his beanie too. He was very incognito - apart from the coat.
Then Y/N was walking hand in hand with him.
“Y/N looks stunning, the fuck.” Paula gasped.
Y/N sure enough did. Wearing a beanie too, that was Pleasing, along with a long grey trench coat that was thrown over a black maxi dress. It was an effortless look.
“I’m so glad i’m gay.” Rina sighed with love, watching Y/N pass by.
They were surrounded by friends and family, along with a couple of security members. They all looked happy and relaxed, even in quite the public space.
“They’re going into that VIP restaurant.” Josie said, still watching them.
“Swear the lasagne was like £27 there.” Rina laughed.
“It was.” Paula replied. Paula and Rina turned around again now they were out of sight, relying on Josie to keep them updated.
“Where are they sitting?” Paula asked.
“Harry’s talking to some staff, but he’s standing with his hand on Y/N’s back. So cute!” Josie squealed in excitement. It wasn’t often that she stumbled across celebrities - not as famous as Harry and Y/N anyways.
A couple of drinks and songs later, and the girls returned to focusing on Harry and Y/N.
“Updates?”
“Harry and Y/N are still sitting across from each other. They’re holding hands across the table though, because they’re sat on the end closest to the farthest wall.” Josie commented.
“I love them so much.” Rina cooed.
“I think it’s clear they love each other so much too.”
liked by harrystyles and 187,937 others
yourinstagram winter wonderland 2023🎄
view all 76,872 comments
josiejosie11 WE SAW YOU OMG OMG
paualalala this is so crazy to me
gemmastyles Best night out!💖
harryfan1 THATS HARRH OKG I AM not well
harryfan2 LETS GOOOO [shipname] STANS
#harry styles#harry styles x reader#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles x y/n#harry styles fanfic#ask finelinevogue#harry blurb#finelinevogue#harry styles concept#harry oneshot#harry styles blurbs#harry styles christmas#harry styles christmas fic#harry styles winter#harry styles winter wonderland
391 notes
·
View notes
Text
'I Wanna Be Like You'
Filling a prompt from @goddess47: A new rookie has broken one of Jack's rookie records and Jack finds he's really upset; Bitty offers comfort.
The puck thwacked against the tape on Jack’s stick just as he drew it back, and Jack fired it toward the net in one motion, sending the frozen rubber disc sailing over the goalie’s right shoulder and into the back of the net.
In an instant, Willie was embracing him against the boards while Poots and Connie skated in to join the celebration.
Hold on for another thirty seconds, and the game would be theirs.
Sure, it was a meaningless game at the end of another lost season, at least for the Falconers. The best that could be said about it was that the team was playing spoiler, ruining the Blue Jackets bid for the last playoff spot in the east.
Well. They wouldn’t have beaten Carolina in Round One anyway.
The buzzer sounded and Jack started to join the team as they filed down the tunnel towards the dressing room, stopping when one of the broadcast producers plucked at the sleeve of his sweater.
“Number two star,” the producer said.
Jack nodded, waited for Montblanc, the goalie, to take his turn and salute the crowd as number three star, then skated out and raised his stick to the Providence crowd’s cheers.
Willie, who had scored the first goal and gotten the primary assist on the third — Jack’s goal — was waiting to go out as first star.
“You mind waiting here a minute?” the producer asked as Jack tried again to go to the dressing room.
He was tired, his shoulder hurt and his gear was starting to feel uncomfortably clammy. He didn’t know why they would want him for the post-game on-ice interview; that was the first star’s job, although sometimes it got passed to the second star if the first one was new to North America and wasn’t comfortable speaking in English.
That wasn’t the case for Willie, though. Matty Wilson had been drafted by the Falconers in the first round last summer, a product of Minnesota who had moved to Canada in high school to play major juniors. He wasn’t huge for a hockey player, but he was compact and strong, with a powerful first step and a cannon of a shot. He also had the good looks and winning personality that meant he was likely to be the next face of the Falconers.
That was fine with Jack. A decade into an NHL career that he had thought wouldn’t happen at all, Jack was ready to pass the torch. And Willie had had a good season. A great season for a rookie.
Valerie, the broadcaster who did the rink-side interviews, positioned herself between Willie and Jack at the boards.
“Congratulations, Matty!” she said. “With your goal and assist tonight, you have 65 points for the season, a new record for a Falconers rookie.”
“Thanks,” Willie beamed. “It’s been a great season, and I’ve learned so much and developed so much more as a player.”
“Do you know who set the previous rookie scoring record for the Falconers?” Valerie asked, turning to Jack.
Because of course. Jack had set the previous rookie record, at 64 points.
Valerie explained that in case anyone in the arena had missed the point, while Jack offered congratulations to Willie.
He meant his congratulations. It was a huge accomplishment, something that wouldn’t have happened without Willie playing almost every game of the season, without him playing serious minutes in those games, without him becoming a very real scoring threat nearly every shift.
Almost like Jack, who had eclipsed his rookie point total five times in the last 10 years, but not this year.
Willie thanked Jack, and went on to say, “It’s a real honor to be mentioned with Jack, let alone play on the same line. I can only hope to have a career like his.”
Then they were headed down the tunnel side by side, Jack working to make sure he didn’t have a sour expression on his face.
Bitty was still up when Jack let himself in the back door of the house they’d bought three years ago. That was when Jack had signed his last contract, the one with the no-movement clause, and he and Bitty had agreed it was time to think about raising a family. No kids yet, but Bitty adored the dog they’d adopted two weeks after moving in.
The house wasn’t far from downtown Providence, but it was on a big enough lot for Bitty to have a large garden with room left over for an eventual play structure, and, maybe someday, a tiny rink in the winter. Bitty loved it because it backed up to the water, and the kitchen had marvelous natural light for taping his cooking segments.
Jack liked it because he could go out on the back deck at night, and it was magnificently quiet.
“Nice goal in the third,” Bitty said, looking up from his laptop on the kitchen table. “Protein shake is in the fridge.”
“Thanks,” Jack said, letting one word serve as answer for both things Bitty told him. “Puck go out yet?”
Puck lifted his head from the rug in front of the sink when he heard his name.
“Not yet,” Bitty said.
“Come on, chiot,” Jack said, still carrying the tumbler with his shake.
He stood on the deck while Puck sniffed around the yard, watched the dog’s ears prick forward when a rabbit passed by on the far side of the fence, gazed out at the bay. This was better, right? Better than being a rookie, wondering how his career would turn out? He had a home, and a husband (and a dog) who loved him, they were planning to raise a kid or two or three together, his name was on the Stanley Cup twice … this was better.
Better than having his whole life ahead of him? Better than having his face on all the billboards and the sides of buses. Well, yes, for that part. Even though he was still on some billboards.
Some things were worse. The way his shoulder hurt after a hard game. The ache he was starting to feel in his hips every day when he got out of bed. How intentional he had to be to recover from one game and be ready for the next.
“Jack?”
He hadn’t heard Bitty come out behind him. Jack looked over to see his husband wrapped in old oversized hoodie, wearing flannel pajama pants and fuzzy slippers, carrying a steaming mug of what smelled like chamomile.
“You okay?” Bitty asked. “Puck should be ready to come in by now.”
“Ouais,” Jack said. He sighed and looked up at the sky, imagining the stars he knew were there from the nights he had spent at the family cabin in Nova Scotia. “Sorry. Just … thinking.”
“About what?” Bitty said, coming to stand right next to Jack, so that when Jack lifted his arm it settled naturally around Bitty’s shoulders, pulling him even more closely to Jack’s side.
“Willie. Matty Wilson. He broke the Falconers rookie scoring record tonight.”
“I saw,” Bitty said. “Is that what’s got you down, that he broke your record?”
“It sounds stupid when you say it like that,” Jack said.
“No, sweet pea, I didn’t mean —”
“No, I know you didn’t,” Jack said. “It’s just, it’s not the record, really. Records are made to be broken. It’s a cliche, but it’s true. I didn’t expect it to last forever.”
“But you didn’t expect to score the goal that let someone break it?”
“I didn’t even know,” Jack said, with a little huff. “I’m his captain. I should have known. I mean, I knew he was having a great season, I knew he was close, but … maybe I didn’t want to know? I didn’t know when I set my record.”
“That’s because the previous record was like, forty points or something,” Bitty said. “You didn’t break that record, you obliterated it.”
“And we had so much success early on,” Jack said. “Then these last few years have been tough. I wanted to stay around until the team gets better again, until we have a chance … but I don’t know if I can. Did you hear him, Bits? Saying that he hopes he has a career like I’ve had? Like it’s over?”
“I’m pretty sure he didn’t actually say that,” Bitty said.
“Maybe not,” Jack acquiesced. “But the implication was there.”
Bitty hummed a noncommittal response.
“I guess I was just remembering what it was like, back when I was a rookie,” Jack said. “I was so worried about everything. I thought I’d ruined everything and would never play in the league, but I did … and I was afraid I’d ruin it again and there would be no more chances.
“And we were new, too, you and me — really, maybe not the best idea for either of us, timing wise, but we made it work,” Jack said.
“That we did,” Bitty said, nuzzling a little into Jack’s shoulder.
“Once we got to the end of the season, and made the playoffs, it felt like — like anything was possible,” Jack said. “And once I retire, it won’t be anymore.”
“No,” Bitty said. “It won’t. Every choice you make — every choice everyone makes — closes off other choices. We bought this house, not the one in Warwick. I went to Samwell, not Georgia. Sometimes we miss out on things just because we got older, or because things don’t go our way. I hate to have to admit this, Jack, but I will never be an Olympic figure skater. And you will never be an NCAA hockey champion. Even though you deserved that so much more than me.”
“You deserved it,” Jack protested.
“I’m not saying I didn’t.” Bitty answered. “But you did too, more than I did. … I don’t know what I’m saying, really. Just that, no one gets everything they want, and I don’t think anyone’s life is really easy, not when you know them well enough to really know. But I hope you don’t have too many regrets. Not about your career, at least.”
“No,” Jack said. “Not about my career. Not about us, or our life, either. I could never have imagined this when I was growing up. It’s just — I got jealous, I think. I got jealous, because Willie still has everything ahead of him, and that feeling that everything is possible. And I remember how exhilarating that was, and how scary. Why did I waste my time being scared? Why didn’t I enjoy it more?”
Jack felt Bitty shrug.
“Because it is scary, when you don’t know how it all turns out,” he said. “People forget that part. Somebody saying they want to be like you — that’s a compliment, Jack. Take the win.”
“I guess,” Jack said. “You’re right. I know you’re right.”
He turned to kiss the side of Bitty’s head briefly.
“And I know I got lucky,” he said, before releasing his husband and calling the dog, who had been sniffing at the bottom of the fence in hopes of finding another rabbit.
“And I know one more thing,” Jack added, as the three of them turned towards the door. “Willie won’t get to win a Stanley Cup his first year. I guess I’ll always have that.”
Bitty shook his head as Jack waited for him to enter the kitchen first.
“That’s the spirit,” Bitty said. “Is there anything you won’t turn into a competition?
68 notes
·
View notes