#is this how men feel all the time??? confident that the hawaiian shirt does the talking for you???

[aleatoryw]

went outside in a sports bra, high-waisted khaki shorts, and an open hawaiian shirt. hot summer butch looks are BACK baby

[moregraceful]

my reading of that post was something akin to [sniffles] i'd like to talk about big gay bbq ;_;

also God yeah if ppl wrote about the ahl more there wld be a lot of firebirds fic. or maybe i just see men and am like ouuuughhhh kiss ? i have Angles for like so many different pairings / polyships

- ash

What if Joey Daccord was enjoying the Big Gay BBQ with his boys after a hard fought game...what if Kole Lind looked at him with a smudge of bbq sauce on his mouth and felt insane about it....and also, what if Chris Driedger was watching this while wearing a Hawaiian shirt and sunglasses and vaguely yearning for Grubi...ouagh

[I absolutely derailed myself into a psychological assessment of Chris Driedger his 20s + musings on the AHL fic -- cut bc I had to scroll four times to get to the bottom and the people on my dash who don't care about the AHL just don't deserve that...just a note that there is ZERO salacious imagines under the cut]

Actually Chris is very interesting to me bc irl he is a 29yo who invested in crypto, but he is also a 29yo who suffered his way through his 20s not unlike the rest of us, just with more of a spotlight on him. but it's like, or at least of me it was like this, I hit 29 and I was like, well. I made it this far through my 20s and it absolutely sucked so much and I hated every minute of it and I kinda wish I was dead, but maybe a new decade will be different. I gotta make it through one last year of pushing through this shit and if I take a step back, yeah, it's gotten a little better with every passing month. Maybe my 30s are not a chance to start over so much as they are a chance to start moving forward. And I think for Chris (this is turning in a psychological assessment instead of a sexy imagine sorry) who has suffered through some catastrophic injuries, some terrible setbacks, some truly awful decision-making of his own, and just kept coming back from it and kept pushing forward -- to me Chris at 29, back in the AHL and yet again a back up, but also BACK PLAYING AT ALL which is very much its own kind of triumph, it feels very much like an interesting thing poke at in fanfiction. Like, okay Chris, you turned 29 in May in the middle of a playoff push, back early from injury when everyone thought your entire season was done an almost full calendar year prior. You're a back up again, but you're not really playing. You just watched this kid you love so much and this team who has embraced you have an inaugural season that quite frankly set the standard for any expansion team yet to come and CERTAINLY any team moving around (Wranglers. Cuda.) in the current era. Like, irl he seems very confident, very full of swagger, but also very full of humility and gratitude for how many chances he got and very determined not take anything for granted anymore. If you apply that to the experience of being a queer man at 29, gosh there are so many possibilities. Very "I am going to make it through this year if it kills me." Where do we go from here, Chris???

But also yeah he should eat bbq and send a photo of himself to his friends with his shirt unbuttoned flirting with drag queens and Philipp Grubauer should have a horny meltdown about it and spend all summer sending him thirst traps to get back at him. This does many things for Chris's ego.

also AHL fic is so interesting to me as someone who spent a couple years in bandom when fob had more or less fully taken off but a lot of pete's proteges were grinding it out on one hit wonders or collaborations with more famous artists and they were all clawing for every show and even p!atd wasn't really a sure thing yet... there are a lot of parallels to the whole "boys in buses got it so damn bad but we love it like the last cigarette we ever had" liminal space of the grind of touring and fighting for every last chance and making these friendships you THINK are insoluble but more often than not just dissolve as soon as one of you makes it or one of you breaks down and quits and goes home...the way Warped Tour was a party every year because for a lot of bands it WAS the last cigarette they ever had and they probably knew that on some level...i forgot where I was going with this. OH. the NHL can't even touch that level of "every game could be my last game"/"every show could be my last show" and the kind of desperation but also weird situational camaraderie that comes from that. Like on a pro athlete way for sure but also in that, 5, 6, 9, 12 hour bus rides every week all over the damn west coast. What do you do if you hate the guy sitting next to you. What do you do if you love the guy sitting next to you. There's no escape man. I forgot where I was going with that again but yeah basically, AHL fic is an untapped and very rich universe for people who love dirtbags, writing about people in close quarters, desperate feelings, and accept that there's a solid chance you may have to delete your fic someday when a prospect bombs out of hockey and turns into a normie. You know?? It's great stuff.

[severelytalentless]

Red Eye Chapter 1

Stranger/Businessman!Getou x Fem!Reader

The flight isn't the only thing that's long..

A/N: This is what happens when I'm left alone with my horny thoughts at the airport. Thanks for adding me to the list@nkogneatho / @atsumuscumslut

CW/TW: sexual scenarios & strong language, alcohol consumption & slight intoxication, shameless flirtation, dirty talk, praise kink, exhibitionism, semi-public fingering, orgasm denial

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(telepatia - kali uchis)

Gate B9

You strut down the walkway to your gate. The wheels of your bag click across the tile floor in time with the click of your heels. You have plenty of time before your flight and it's been a long day full of business meetings with people that make you want to beat your head against the table. It's about time for a drink.

You take a seat at the airport bar and order an overpriced draft. You toe off your heels and wish you could take off these stockings as well. The bar faces the center walkway and is conveniently located across from your gate. You sip your beer and hope it’ll water down your stress levels. You pop your headphones in and zone out, judging people you'll never know as they walk by.

Tacky matching Hawaiian shirts..

Oh, honey, those pumps are way too high, this isn't a strip club..

Love that dress..hate the hair..

Woah...hold on..

Your eyes linger on a smartly dressed man sitting alone at your gate. He's reading the paper, you can't see his face. His shoes look expensive, so does his watch. Half of his long dark hair is pulled back into a bun that suits him very well. The man knows how to dress. You lean back in your chair and take a long drink, still appraising him. He folds the paper together to turn the page, revealing his profile. You smirk and hum to yourself.

Mhm..yea..he's hot. Very hot. Tall dark and so fucking handsome. Totally your type. He's got a face you'd like to see between your-

Oh, he's looking..

You look away in reflex, tipping more beer into your mouth. After pretending to check your phone, you glance back over.

He's still looking at you. His lips pull into the slightest smirk.

Oh..alright then

You knock back the rest of the pint and cross your legs, choosing to hold his eye contact.

The anonymity of airports tends to bring out your risky side. You may be a frequent flyer, but what are the odds that you'll ever see this particular guy again? You gamble that they're pretty low, so you decide to have some fun with this staring contest and play with this stranger a little.

You lock eyes with him, set down your glass, and reach up to release your bun and let your hair fall down around your shoulders. He slowly tilts his head and squints curiously at you. You smirk and unbutton the top of your blouse You lean back in your chair, threading your fingers through your hair and massaging your scalp.

He's still looking..

You like this game. It makes you feel sexy, holding the attention of a complete stranger like this. His obvious interest is turning you on a little. You roll your head and massage your neck, then trace your fingers down along your collarbone.

He folds his paper up and looks away, then checks his watch.

Damn it..you lost him..

Your bubble of confidence promptly bursts. You sigh and roll your eyes. Game over.

Wait..no.

He's getting up..

Oh shit..

He's coming over.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(you that I want - divine)

Your heart does an excited little flip and takes a shot of adrenaline as you watch him stride your way. You casually remove your headphones as he pulls out the chair next to you.

"Is this seat taken?"

Damn, he's even more handsome up close. That silky low voice tickles a chill up through your spine.

You maintain composure, flip over the part of your hair and shrug like you couldn't care less.

"All yours.."

He sits beside you and flags down the waitress.

"What are you drinking?"

"Whatever you're drinking.."

You see his eyes flick down to your neckline, then he holds your gaze as he orders.

"Irish whiskey please, straight. Same for her."

The waitress nods and hurries off, leaving you alone with your mysterious new friend. You both look out and watch the passengers walk by. He continues his flirty game of questions.

“Business or pleasure?”

"Business"

"Long day?"

"Is it that obvious?" he nods to your feet.

"No shoes" you huff a giggle. The drinks arrive.

"I like the stockings.." He raises his glass and looks you in the eyes again. You clink and he takes a sip.

"I like the cologne.. " you smirk and bring the glass to your lips. He watches the liquid pour into your mouth between the dark red lipstick. Filthy thoughts flood his mind.

"Single?"

"Free agent.." he raises an eyebrow and offers his hand.

"Suguru Getou" you lay your hand in his and sip your whiskey.

"Y/N L/N" he folds his thumb over your fingers and brings your hand to his lips, pressing them gently on your knuckles. A little blush washes into your cheeks at the chivalrous gesture. He looks up at you as he lifts them from your skin.

“Pretty name..”

Damn, his voice is so sexy.

“Thank you..” you smirk and he rubs his thumb across your knuckles.

“Even prettier smile..”

You roll your eyes and finally take your hand from him.

“Well aren't you charming..” you joke, but it's true. His eyes travel south, taking their time navigating down your body.

“Great legs too..” you sip more whiskey and hum in agreement. This man is smooth with compliments, stroking your ego in all the right ways.

“And this hair..” he leans in and twirls a little bit around his finger. Your senses bristle when he leans even closer and whispers into your ear.

“Don't get me started on those fuck me eyes..” your heart thumps more heat into your cheeks at his bold words. You scoff through your smile and lightly bat him out of your hair.

“Oh behave” he hums and shakes his head, leaning back in to sweep your hair over your shoulder, letting his fingers lightly graze your neck just enough to make your shoulders drop and raise goosebumps on your skin.

“I prefer not to..” He hears the heavy little breath you just let out. You shift in your seat and try to calm your fluster with another sip of whiskey.

He has such an attractive confidence about him, so completely sure of himself. That and the way he's been subtly undressing you with his eyes this whole time has made you incredibly hot and bothered.

He can tell..

He's perceptive. He spotted you the moment you waltzed up to the bar in those seductive little black heels. He was checking you out while you watched those people pass by.

He knows your kind. An underrated pent-up workaholic with a kinky side. You don't take shit from anyone, but you have to work for old wrinkled men who see you as an office decoration.

He can tell you're so much more than that.

You're intelligent, sophisticated, and independent. Being ridiculously sexy is just a cherry on top.

He loves women like you.

He smirks and leans back in his seat glancing at his watch. He downs the rest of his drink before waving two fingers at the waitress for another round.

“One more?”

You throw yours back as well and he is visibly impressed.

“Oh..I like you..”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You're on whiskey number three, feeling warm and tingly all over. The suggestive banter hasn't let up, pouring fuel over the sexual tension that radiates from your little corner of the bar.

You're not thinking about work anymore.

You're thinking about the size of the carry-on item this man is packing in his trousers. He is the definition of big dick energy.

Meanwhile, he's already come up with about 5 different ways to make you cum on the plane.

“How often do you travel internationally for work?”

“Once or twice a month”

“First class?” you nod into your glass.

“The company takes very good care of me..”

He pauses and raises an eyebrow, swirling the drink around in his glass, thinking about how well he's gonna take care of you on this flight.

“Are you a member of the club?” you scoff and roll your eyes.

“Of course, but this airport doesn't have a member lounge, otherwise I wouldn't be sitting at this bar.” he grins and shakes his head.

“Oh..you are so cute..”

You both hear the PA system chime and announce your flight is about to begin boarding. He signs the air at the waitress for the check.

“I’m not talking about that kinda club, sweetheart..”

Oh..mile high club

Tingling heat drips down between your legs and your pulse flutters. He chuckles, seeing your eyes go wide and your brows jump at the realization.

He pushes out of his seat and collects his briefcase. You stand up quickly and realize just how tipsy you are as you slip back into your heels. You don't notice him move in close by your side until his hand slides across the small of your back. Your breath catches and you freeze as he leans to whisper in your ear. You can hear sex in his voice.

“I'll get you a membership..”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(hush - the marias)

Oh boy, maybe you shouldn't have had that last drink. Three hours into the flight and you still feel intoxicated, even after having dinner. You recline in your first-class seat and open the air vent all the way. The cool breeze fans the heat off your face, but you're still very hot and turned on by the statement Suguru left you with at the bar.

Your core twists and you sigh as you replay his words in your mind, letting your head roll back into the headrest. You writhe in your seat and close your eyes, kicking off your heels again. The temperature of the pooling heat inside you rises as you imagine him making good on that membership offer. You pet your thighs and consider slipping your fingers between.

"Are you thinking about me?" You flinch and snap out of your lusty headspace.

Well..not really.

The flight attendants have started taking their breaks and most of the other passengers in first class are asleep, so no one noticed him switch seats.

You roll your head over and look at him sitting next to you in the seat that was paid to be empty. He's lost the blazer and tie, his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows and his collar is unbuttoned.

He's just so sexy..

He leans on the armrest and cocks his head, hiding his smirk behind his fist with his chin on his palm.

You raise an eyebrow and give in to this sensual urge.

“What if I was..” he hums and turns to slide the partition closed, separating your seats from the aisle. He's got you all to himself now.

The dim glow of the cabin lights looks good on you. Your pulse quickens as his fingers brush up your thigh over your sheer black stocking. He lifts the hem of your skirt, revealing the pretty lace trim on the stockings and the garter clip holding them up.

His cock stiffens in his trousers. You're so completely his type. Naughty elaborate lingerie is his weakness. Makes him wanna tear your clothes off and find out what the rest of it looks like. He licks his canine at the corner of the smirk that parts his lips.

“I’d ask how wet you are..” His eyes smolder at you in the soft ambient light. You eye fuck him right back and bite your pretty red lip.

You shift in your seat and uncross your legs. He watches you slowly spread your knees apart, fingers helping your skirt ride up even more. His jaw muscles clench and he hooks his finger under the lace, stroking back and forth over your soft skin. You reach over and tug on his collar, looking down at his lips.

“Why don't you check..” he clicks his tongue and lets his hand wander around the curve of your inner thigh and down between.

“You..are..trouble..”

The hushed words fall from his lips one by one as he toys with the edge of your panties. He strokes into the wetness soaking through the fabric, igniting your arousal as if it were a match to be struck. The pressure lights you up and you inhale sharply.

“Hhu..Sugu-”

You hold your tongue and swallow the rest of his name. He chuckles in his throat and relishes the lewd expression he just put on your face. He takes your little display of self-control as a challenge.

You grip the armrest tighter and paw at his shirt as he slides his fingers into your lace panties and dips into the brimming slick between your folds. Your breath comes out hot. He growls into your ear in approval of your dripping wet cunt.

“S’this all for me, hm?”

He rolls your clit in slow circles and hums through his devilish smile. Your mouth drops open as your eyes fall shut.

You nod. It's all for him.

“Huh..ye-yess..”

There's the lusty sigh he wants to hear.

“Such a good girl..getting all wet for me like this..”

He praises your arousal and keeps pushing more pleasure through your clit into your core. You can't help but whimper and hum. It feels so naughty letting him do this to you with other passengers just inches away. He leans in and breaths against your neck.

“D’you want me to make you cum right here in your seat?” he rubs a little harder, a little faster. Your back flexes and your breath catches.

“Mm-hm..” you nod more urgently. He lands a kiss on your neck and you swoon, blood rushing in all directions through your body.

Fuck this is way too hot..

“I wonder how long you can keep quiet..” He glides his fingers down and teases your tight slippery little entrance, then sinks them inside, watching your head tilt back and your brows furrow in pleasure. A quiet breathy moan escapes your parted lips. He nuzzles in and growls more erotic words into your ear.

“Shh..keep it down babe..you don't want them to find out what I'm doing to you..how deep my fingers are inside you..” you bite the next moan into your lip as he licks your neck, then sucks a mark up into the hot skin. It makes you shiver and squirm around his thick fingers. He strokes the knot in your core and your back flexes against the seat again.

“Or do you..”

He pushes in, knuckles deep. You try your best to hush the pretty little sounds he's pulling out of you. He clicks his tongue.

“Maybe you like the attention..want them to hear you moan like that? I bet you do..”

Even if that wasn't true, the digits curling inside you make it impossible for you to hold it together.

“Hu-oh fuck..right..there..don't stop..” you pant out the whispered plea, breath catching on every syllable. He's so damn good at this, it makes eyes water.

“Not until you're shaking sweetheart..” you whimper. His words are lethal. Your core throbs and twists and begs for release.

“You’re gonna cum right here..then I’m gonna fuck you senseless..” He's a man on a mission and it's too fucking sexy.

His eye contact is intense and your heart punches at your ribs.

Then he thumbs your tender needy clit forcing your eyes to the back of your head.

“Uuh! Shhhit..ahh-ooh..right fucking there-yess..” You quiet the panting outburst of desire down to a strained whisper and arch hard in your seat, clutching onto both armrests for dear life.

You go silent and seize up as you peak, toes curling in your stockings, desperate not to scream.

He purrs more filth into your ear, fully solidifying your climax.

“I don't care if they hear you. Fucking cum for me..”

You groan and fall into it, shuddering and writhing as he continues to knead that blissful spot inside you. You hold your breath as he eggs you on further, patronizing you in that silky tone and rubbing into your pulsing clit even more.

“Yes..that’s a good..fucking..girl..I know you like that..does it feel good baby?” you bite down hard into your lip and nod feverishly with tears on your lashes before your eyes cross up and your head falls back. Your whole body convulses, feet pushing into the nearest surface, cunt clenching around his pumping fingers. He watches you fall apart.

You can't hold back anymore.

It's too fucking good.

You release an explicit cry over the droning hum of the aircraft engines and pull in a sharp gasp. Blood flares up into your cheeks and your heart beats wildly, you throw your hand over your mouth to shut yourself up. He grins while you struggle to control the breathy whimpers that follow.

His cock couldn't be any harder. He fucking loves this, making you cum in public, forcing those trembling moans, watching your body flex, feeling your sticky walls contract around his fingers.

He slows down his assault, but he's not stopping.

He won't stop.

He's having too much fun pushing you past your threshold of stimulation. You squirm and tug at his sleeve, eyes begging him to have mercy on your swollen electrified clit. But the slow torturous circling continues.

“You wanna scream so badly, don't you..poor thing..”

You nod again and cry into your palm, pressing your thighs together around his arm but he just won't stop. You jerk and flinch and feel another orgasm clawing its way up into your core. He bites his grin, his eyes gleam with malicious intent. You're such a pretty mess. He knows you'll never forget this. Tears roll from your eyes.

"You wanna cum again?"

Oh God..

You grasp his forearm, nodding frantically.

His fingers tug you to the edge from the inside.

You scrunch your eyes shut and brace for another orgasm.

Then he stops.

"Not yet sweetheart.."

Your eyes fly open and you whimper at the loss of traction. You're so worked up. A needy ache grabs and twists the knot that he retied so quickly inside you.

"Please..please" it isn't like you to be so pathetic and shamelessly horny, begging him for more like this. But you don't care. You're not just drunk off the whiskey anymore. This man is intoxicating all on his own, and if you never get to see him again, you're gonna make the most of him on this plane.

He smirks at your frustrated state and pulls his fingers out of you. He casually licks them and rubs your stocking as you pant. Then he brings them to your lips and you open up willingly, tasting your own arousal. He holds your chin with his other hand and gives you instructions as you lick his knuckles clean.

"Be a good girl..take off your panties..bring them to the bathroom.."

You nod obediently. He pats your flushed cheek and slides the partition open.

"We'll need something to put in your mouth while I'm fucking you.."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@yelzoldyck

[slvtbible]

G O L D

chapter one

summary: [y/n is a young stripper who is adored by many men. harry styles is a man who loves to carry danger with him]

word count: 4222

pairing: stripper!y/n and gangleader!harry

warnings: violence, vulgar language, sexual acts, alcohol and drug

to be honest, i was a little hesitant to post it here and i don’t know if this story will blow up on tumblr or get many notes but that’s the last thing on my mind right now. i just want to share what i’ve been working on that kept you guys waiting for almost a year lol sorry about that. But yes, she’s finally here!! I posted first on wattpad before i put it here, I felt like the only way to reach out more people to read it it’s through that. And also, i decided to use a name on wattpad but I’d use the term ‘y/n’ on tumblr. Enjoy it all my loves! Give me feedbacks!💜

*

*

Harry fixes the collar of his sheer black shirt before tucking it neatly inside the black trousers he's currently wearing. He normally goes something more extravagant for going out. His closet is filled with colourful ruffles and Hawaiian shirts along with 'more than one colour' suits. However tonight, he needs to lay low for a bit. Especially when he's about to step into one of the most famous strip clubs in New York in an hour to meet up with the manager.

He's very much aware of the reputation he has put on himself out there. Though there's no use of camouflage and hiding, he still doesn't want a cause a scene,

Yet.

His hand lifts a bottle of Tom Ford from the dresser before spraying it twice on his neck. Stepping away from the full length mirror, he grabs his cross necklace from the bed before putting the accessory around his neck as he walks out of the room.

"Talk to me Reece" his heavy accent echoes the hallway as he walks downstairs, watching his few men pocketing their weapons,

Reece, the brown skinned man with tattoos nods. "He's there. Just got a word from Bianco. He appears isn't expecting you, Boss. However I do believe he knows you're coming soon. The club is far too crowded than usual but Bianco is taking care of that right now." He informs, showing him the message on the phone,

Harry can only scoff, nodding at him as a thank you. "That son of a bitch should've. Owes me more than fucking money." He mutters, inserting the .45 ACP inside his gun holster. "The car's ready?"

Nodding, Reece leads Harry down towards the basement. "As requested. Lamborghini Murcielago in blue hera. Pack with 640 PS and 471 kW, rules around 213 mph if you consider on hit and run. Still, I pack a standard Aeropack wing if you wanna go slow tonight. The windows? Bulletproof. In case anyone tries to kill you." Harry knows he's only joking about the last part. No one dares try to kill him before he does it. It's a pattern that everyone knows by now.

Harry lets out a low whistle, softly shaking his head as the machine beauty appears. Tracing lightly with his ring cladded fingers along the hood of the car. "Not planning to hit and run tonight, Reece. Not even thinking about racing down the street with my weapon outside the window. You don't have anything more. . . Less attractive?" He questions, still staring at the gorgeous car ahead of him,

"You know I don't do less, boss." Reece winks playfully, laughing to himself as he watches Harry roll his eyes. "Besides. Who knows you'll get yourself a bird tonight, eh? Take her out on a stroll before bringing her home to your place. Women love fast cars." He comments, pressing the button on the keys as the door opens,

Humming as a response, Harry walks towards the driver's seat, "I don't date anymore, thought my right hand man knew tha' " He speaks, words laced with seriousness while grabbing the keys from Reece's fingers,

He can only sigh and nod his head. "Understood. Yet, Kendra is like what? Two years ago? Gotta get yourself something better, boss. You deserve it. So do it tonight." He suggests, watching him going inside the car before shutting the door,

Harry smiles a bit, inserting the keys inside the ignition before starting the car. "Noted."

The dark haired man steps away from the car. Giving Harry a salute. "I'll be right behind you. See you there."

*

*

*

Y/N Y/L/N stands in front of the mirror as she applies another layer of red lipstick on her plump lips. Securing the tube back as she puckers her mouth to see if it fits the colour for tonight. She twirls, watching carefully how the gold lingerie clads perfectly around her breasts and down to her curvy hips and thick thighs.

She stops once her plump ass is facing the mirror, admiring how beautiful and big her bum is in the lingerie. It's a compliment really. She loves working out to give her bum a bit bigger. It's not that she hopes she'll gain attention from people, she just loves her body. She worships every piece of it despite what other people think of it. Insecurity was her biggest enemy but not anymore. After reading lots of books and poems about self love she learns that there's nothing she should be ashamed of.

Grabbing a bottle of lotion from her table, she squeezes the bottle into her hand before rubbing her bum with the cold cream, rubbing it neatly to make sure she doesn't miss a spot.

Another thing, she loves moisturizing her plump flesh before the show. It's sexy

"Joe is asking for you." She hears a voice coming from behind, craning her neck to see her closest co-worker Violet, already in her usual purple wig and attire as she stands beside Angelina. "I love working as a stripper but he really needs to learn to be patient and. . . shut up, i guess?"

Y/N releases a small laugh, moving her long dark wavy hair to rest on her chest. "I know, I know. Jesus, I've told him fifteen minutes prior that I'll take longer than usual." She slips on her gold heels and turns to face Violet, who's biting her lip as she stares at Angelina's body up and down. "Okay, how do i look?"

Violet raises her eyebrow, as if it's something her friend shouldn't be asking. "You kidding? You look like a sex goddess. Gonna get all the men on their knees for you, girl"

Scoffing, she shoots her a wink and a flirtatious smile. "Old men with beer bellies? No thanks. I'd rather make out with Gordon." She replies, seemingly disgusted about the thought of grinding on an old man's lap tonight.

"Is that a bet I hear?" Violet questions, leaning towards her a bit as she waits for her friend’s response. "Please tell me that it is so I can earn extra cash tonight."

Gordon is a perverted bartender that always keeps his eye on Y/N throughout her routine. He's 40 and is always asking Angelina on a 'date' and by date, he means her ass on his lap. Clearly something Y/N isn't too fond of. Him specifically. Violet and Y/N have always made a joke about him, something they could make a playful banter in every chance they get.

Plus, she heard he's married. Isn't he supposed to find another job rather than here? If his wife found out what kind of a sleaze bag she married, she would be crushed,

Rolling her eyes, Y/N shoves her playfully by the arm. "Ha ha, very funny" she answers, resuming to untangle her hair from knots.

Violet laughs, pinching her on the hip as she lets outa small squeal. "Just messing with you, baby. Good luck out there. Put the rest of us to shame tonight. . . Like any other night"

Y/N flips her off, yet knowing it's the truth. She's not trying to sound like a condescending bitch here but none of the girls here are actually capable to do what Y/N does. That's what makes men attracted to her. She knows what she's doing. She knows how to make a man hard.

"By the way, you heard what Joe's talking about earlier?" Violet asks, toeing off her heels as she exhales a relief sigh. "Damn those heels are killing me" She mumbles,

"No... What's about?" She turns her head to face Violet for her to explain, causing her to shrug her shoulders,

"Don't know much about it. . . But i hear Harry Styles is coming here to meet up with him. Something about transaction or shit" She waves it off, whispering it to Y/N, looking around to make sure no one is eavesdropping,

She almost chokes on her saliva after hearing Violet says the name. "Harry Styles?! The. . . mafia boss of New York..?" Her eyes widen at the possibility of the most dangerous man in the city paying a visit to the place she works at,

Nodding, Violet answers, "Yup. That Harry Styles. He's the devil. Let's hope this place doesn't turn into a war zone."

Y/N has heard about this Harry guy. The most feared man of New York. She does know a little bit of the relations between Joe and Mr. Styles. Almost every night she could hear Joe freaking out about this man. She may not know him that close, hell she had never even met him in person but people talk. One thing she learned about hearing his reputation, you don't ever want to mess with this guy.

Violet snaps her fingers to snap Y/N out of her thoughts. "Less worrying, girl. Come on, you got a show to put on yes?"

"Y-yeah. Fuck. . . now i'm scared" She breathes out, looking at her reflection in the mirror one last time. Calming down her mind.

After giving Violet a kiss on a cheek and receiving a tap on her ass, she takes a deep breath as she opens the beaded curtain and walk out to the club. Jhene Aiko is playing through the speakers, thanks to her who chose the music for tonight. She can already feel all eyes on her as she struts down confidently, putting on a smirk and winking at couple of men here and there. As much as it disgusts her, she grazes her hand along a man's arm who's biting his lip and looking at her up and down.

'What the fuck did i do to deserve this?' she thinks to herself, staring at the man in front of her who's probably the same age as her father. The thought of it makes her gag,

She gives the man a wink before getting up on the stage, hearing a few hollers from behind. reaching out to wrap her hand around the silver pole and her leg hooking up to support her body. Slowly twirling with her head thrown back and closes her eyes with money being toss at her direction before letting go and crutching down on her knees, moving close towards the same man earlier. He slips in a couple of hundred dollar bills inside her panties, causing the others to do the same.

This may be not how she pictures her success but damn, by the end of the week, her bank account can go from three to six digits.

She's definitely gonna hold on to that,

*

*

*

It takes Harry close to thirty minutes to get here. He blames it all on the traffic, cursing to himself every time he stops at red lights. He parks his car close to the entry before he exits from the vehicle. He looks over his shoulder to find a familiar black car driving towards her, noting to himself it's Reece's. Seeing him wave his hand to make sure he's coming in later.

He clears his throat, clenching his jaw as he walks into the club. Reece wasn't lying, the club is too packed for tonight. As if God knew what is about to get down tonight and isn't going to let him get away with witnesses. He really needs to play safe for a while tonight.

As he strides through the room to find a table he has reserved for, a few half naked girls walk right pass him, stroking his exposed chest and grabbing his shoulders. Most of them are gorgeous and he's tempted to touch their soft skin yet he has to hold it. Not that he isn't interested because he's definitely taking someone back to his place tonight--fucking Reece had to be right-- but he needs to get his head in the game for at least an hour before planning to do so.

Gently, he pulls back a chair for him to sit. He specifically asks for the furthest table so no one can figure out what he's about to do tonight. A glass of whiskey has been set on his table before he got here, waiting for Joe's arrival. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Reece and Bianco walking over to his table. One of them gives him a nod to acknowledge his presence.

Harry lifts the glass up to his lips and take a sip of it. Honestly, he hates doing all of this dirty work. Sure, he's the boss. But he despises complicated things. He should've known not to trust Joe about anything, yet when he begged on his knees with a gun knocked against his head as he spat out a bunch of threats to the weakened man, he thought why not? If Joe didn't get to fulfill his demands, he gets to kill him either way. It's always a pleasure for him to do so.

"Mr. Styles! Ay, i'm so happy to see you. You look a lot cleaner than i saw you the last time, eh?" Joe's voice causes Harry's green eyes averts from the scene on the crowd. His eyebrows are knitted, jaw tightened as he taps his fingers against the table, causing the rings he's wearing to knock.

He owes him money worth $50,000. And this man had the nerve to walk in and act like nothing happened.

He is definitely going to kill him.

"Stop with all that shit and sit the fuck down. You owe me something Joe." Harry warns, pointing at him as Harry's men forces the dark haired male to sit down making him gulp. "You owe me 50 grand for that package you piece of shit."

Joe couldn't feel more terrified as he catches a glimpse of Harry's gun on the table, facing towards him. "I know Harry, I know. I didn't forget, okay? It's just the money is tight right now. The girls aren't getting the amount of money they used to be getting." Joe tries to reason but Harry isn't having any of it,

"Stop being a fucking pussy and blame your girls for the money you've lost. I'm running out of patience here, Joe. If you don't give me the money by the end of the week, you're a dead man. I still have one body bag left in my car and I wouldn't mind writing your name on it." Harry grits his teeth, looking at him with a dark look in his eyes. Hand gripping tightly around the glass

"No man, I need more than that. Please, I'll do whatever you ask me to. You will have your money man I promised." Joe begs, looking at Harry with hopeful eyes.

Harry finds it quite disgusting to see someone like him beg for mercy-- for the second time--or anything at all to be honest. He find that gesture is weak and vulnerable which makes him very easy to manipulate over. "I don't give out second chances."

Joe hears a gun clicks behind, he doesn't need to know what's going on. He knows one of the two men behind him is ready to blow his brains out. "Harry man. . . One more. . . Give me one more"

Harry isn't a patient man. He doesn't want people beg. He doesn't want him to beg. But he finds it interesting to see how it goes, playing along this little game of his.

"Fine. you give me your best girl and i'll give you two months." Harry offers, cocking his eyebrow as he leans back to relax himself. "No more than that."

Joe's eyes widen at Harry's demand. It's impossible to collect a 50 grand in two months, especially when he's short on it. He needs more than that. Still, he thinks two months is better than nothing. "Okay. . . Agreed. Just tell me which girl you want or-or i could bring one or two here, man. Take your pick."

Harry can only hum in response, scanning his eyes over the scene. Dozens of girls dancing on stage, few of them even has their bras taken off. It seems to him, none of these girls on the room is his type.

Until his green eyes fall on a certain slightly curvy woman with her leg wrapped around the pole.

Her long dark hair brushing lightly against the floor as she bend her back a bit. He observes the way her body move so dirty yet gracefully around the pole,  the way she bites onto her pink glossed lips and how her brown eyes manage to flirt with the crowd and had them lure into her eyes including himself. He swears this girl just steps out of his daydreams. She looks perfect.

He admires how she circle her hips painfully slow, jealous how he isn't close enough to watch her plump flesh near his strong figure.

"Her. I want her" Harry points at the girl he can't take his eyes off. His voice sounds too possessive but he doesn't care if he does. He's too enhanced with the way she moves on that stage and he loves how she swats those dirty hands who seems desperate to cope a feel with a dirty look on her face.

'Seems like a fighter' he thinks to himself

"Y/N? You want her?" Joe asks after he realises who Harry's pointing at.

"Y/N? That's a gorgeous name. She's not taken is she? Not that i care anyway. She's a dime from what i can see here." He says, not tearing his eyes off of her while he sips on his drink. "You're gonna give me her to me aren't you?" Harry asks, his eyes are threatening enough for Joe so he nods his head as a response.

"Yes. Of course. If that's what you want."

"Fuck yes i do. Bring me to one of your rooms. I want a private from her" He demands before gulping down his drink, standing up to head over to the back. Not before glancing at the gorgeous woman one last time who stuffs a few dollar bills in her panties.

*

*

After what it feels like forever dancing on stage and have men whistling at her to go over and give them more, she finally sit herself down on a chair in her dressing room and take a deep breath. Moaning in relief as she pulls her heels off while setting her timer on because she only has thirty minutes to rest before going back out there again. She leans back against the chair, sighing in a pure bliss.

She can hear a few girls talking and laughing while preparing themselves for their performance tonight, wishing she could just join in because Violet informs her earlier there's some juicy gossip she needs to talk about but she cant take it. She's too tired.

She has only closes her eyes for 10 minutes until a familiar voice speaks out,

"Where's Y/N?"

She groans internally. Can never mistake that voice soon as she hears it. Her manager, who sounds like he's panting, voice firm as if is an emergency to call her out like that. Y/N still has her eyes shut as she raises her hand up, not having the energy to respond.

"Okay, good. Y/N. You don't need to go back out there again. There's a special guest I need you to entertain. He's already waiting in the red room."

She nods and hum, only to realize what he means as her eyes bugs out.

Wait, what?

She's quick to turn around, brows furrows and mouth hangs open, not believing what she has just heard. "Pardon?"

"There's a man. A guy who I work with, waiting in one of the rooms. He specifically asked for you. I need you to at least give him an hour." Joe notifies, running his hand over his face as if he's stressed about something,

"You want me to give a lap dance to your co-worker?" She raises her eyebrow, not believing what he just asked her

Joe sighs angrily, "it's technically not--Y/N... please. No more questions, just go over there."

"Who's the guy?" she ignores his orders as she stands, crossing her arms across her chest. "Jesus, fuck. I really need my hair to breath" she mutters, brushing down her long dark brown hair,

"Harry Styles."

Y/N freezes in an instant. Looking up to stare at Joe in the eye to see if he's joking, he can only nod his head to confirm her questioning look. " you're shitting me."

"I'm not," Joe replies, walking over to her, not wanting the other girls to hear. "Y/N, I owe him money. I haven't got them yet and--"

She scoffs, rolling her eyes and continue messing with her hair a bit more. "Not my problem."

He reaches out to grab her elbow, pulling her harshly causing her to stumble a bit. "Y/N, please... He wanted to kill me out there earlier. The guy brought a gun for God's sake. He gave me a month but until then... he wants you."

"You know i'm not a hooker" Y/N defeatedly sighs. She wants to help him, she does but it sounds like he's selling her off for a month to this notorious and dangerous guy who is named to be the deadliest man alive by the people of New York.

She loves money but no fucking way she's willing to die for it.

"I didn't say you were" He roughly says, hand gripping tightly on her arm. "Just... do it" He let her go, tired of the waiting because he doesn't want to make Harry pissed off now,

The girl sighs angrily, squeezing her eyes shut as she hesitates for a while. What the fuck did she get herself into?

"Fine. just give me a moment."

Giving her a smile, Joe thanks her by giving her a kiss on the cheek, telling her the door number Harry is in before walking out of the room. Soon after he walks out, she feels sick in her stomach. How could she ever go face to face with a man with blood in his hands? She's about to give this man a lap dance. Who knew he might've ask for more?

So now, as she finishes re-applying a layer of red lipstick, she heads out. Walking to the back of the room in a slow pace. Heart beating loud and fast as she's about to come face to face with this man. Still, she needs to play it cool. God really fucking hates her,

If he really does exists.

She takes a deep breath before opening the brown door carefully, pushing it open. Her knees almost buckle at the sight of Harry Styles, lounging on the leather couch. A cigarette squeeze between his fingers. legs spread open as if it's an invitation already made for her. His head turns towards the door, a smirk graces upon his face.

She's not going to lie. He is indeed dashingly handsome. With his arms resting on the back of the couch making his biceps look a bit bigger. He's got killer looks too. she studies. Sexy smile, and stubble which creates a sexier look on his face. She catches a glimpse of a silver cross necklace resting against his broad chest. His eyes are sharp. Looking at her up and down with his bottom lip bitten between his teeth.

"My, my" he lowly whistles, watching her every move as she enters the room. Locking the door behind her. "I wasn't wrong. You are a fucking dime."

Y/N giggles-- though feeling scared shitless-- and run her hands over her hair as she struts her way towards his figure. Purposely swaying her ass side to side a bit to tease him. "Mr.Harry Styles. . . I heard a lot about you. Word on the street is that you're a man that likes to carry a danger" she smirks seductively as she stands in between his open legs, dragging her finger slowly down her chest.

Her angelic voice is like music to his ears,

"Yeah?" he smirks, eyes falling to the curve of her breasts. "Hope that doesn't scare you, doll. All i want is a dance from you, that's all. I also heard that you are their favourite girl. After seeing you danced on that stage, I now know why."

Again, she giggles. A small blush creeping on her cheeks, hopefully he doesn't see it. "You're a flirt aren't you, Harry? You do this to every girl?"

He places his hands slowly on her plump ass, he doesn't know if he's allowed to touch but he doesn't give a shit. She seems isn't bothered by it. He wants this girl and he wants her now.

"Only to those who i find interesting, baby. Now, are you going to show me what you got?" He asks, looking up to meet her brown eyes as he squeezes her flesh.

With a devilish smirk, she slowly sets herself down on his lap which causes him to let out a soft groan. She runs her hands down to his tattooed chest and toys with his cross necklace for a bit before whispering in his ear, "sit tight and relax, Mr. Styles. I'll be your good girl for tonight"

next chapter

*

i really don’t want to write a super long chapter, because i’m afraid it’ll bore you guys so maybe--i hope-- this is enough. anyway, i hope you guys enjoy this first chapter, let me know if you guys hate it or love it! I’ll appreciate it. love you guys!

[that-good-trash]

That Should Be Me

Kaminari x Reader

Word count: 4,153

Warnings: None

Summary: You were everything to Kaminari, and he was everything to you. So why did he feel like he lost you? Was there a way to get you back?

Comments: Just a nice little romance fic that I threw together to try and cure my writers block. Enjoy.

 --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The world was such a colorfully gorgeous place when you were in love. The sun seemed to shine brightly with warm rays that blanket over you. The best mornings were when you would wake up to sweet texts reminding you how beautiful you were and how much they missed you. The way your eye lite up when you looked at your phone caused your classmates to tease you. You couldn’t help how you felt so much emotion for your boyfriend. He was average to anyone else but to you he was amazing. He didn’t go to the same school as you, he didn’t go to school for being a hero at all. In fact, you had only met him by accident. You had been getting coffee for you and the girls. You hadn’t taken into consideration how many drinks there was gonna be and how you were gonna carry all of them. With two drink holders full in your arms you attempted to leave. One of the drink carriers fell out of your grip when the door didn’t open completely. You watched with horror as the drinks almost hit the ground. A boy had caught them in the holder, not spilling a drop. He looked just as nervous about them falling. He lifted the drinks up and went to give them to you but found he couldn’t. Your sparkling E/c eyes shimmered with gratitude. They were like whirlpools dragging him in. His mouth went dry trying to think of anything to say but lacked the ability to.

“Thank you so much!!!!” You grabbed the drinks from him waiting for him to reply but he didn’t. You awkwardly waved a few fingers since you couldn’t use your hand. You walked past him but stopped when he yelled for you.

“Go on a date with me!” You stopped and couldn’t turn because your cheeks were red. He almost screamed at himself because he had yelled it in front of everyone. You set the drinks down on one of the free outdoor table before quickly writing down on your phone number on your cup. You carried the drink to him and handed to him.

“That’s my favorite drink, you can treat me to one next time.” You weren’t dumb or completely shy like most people assumed. He was not expecting you to give him your drink and he definitely wasn’t expecting it to have your number on it. A huge grin spread across his face before you grabbed your friend’s drinks and fled before he could say anything else embarrassing.

That was a month ago and the two of you spent most of your free time together. You would go on dates and talk on the phone for hours. You had been scolded by Iida on more than one occasion for being on your phone during class. You and him were a loving cute couple. He was attending a normal high school with dreams of becoming a biologist. You supported him and he listened to you talk about hero things. The difference was that while you gave him your support, he didn’t seem to like the idea of you being a hero. The first fight you had was over your ‘reckless’ behavior. During training you missed an attack and received the brutal end of Kirishima’s fist. Kirishima felt so bad as you laughed at the swollen bruise across your cheek. You told him it was a good hit and it didn’t bother you. This bothered your boyfriend. He didn’t like you putting your life on the line. You stopped talking about school to avoid upsetting him. You loved being a student at UA and you loved him. You just tried to find the perfect balance of both of them. Though the more time you spent with your boyfriend the less you spent with your best friends.

-----------------------------------

“What does he have that I don’t!” Kaminari’s whining could be heard down the corridors of UA. He had thrown his head back running his hands down his face. Kirishima laughed while walking ahead of him next to Bakugou who was trying his best to ignore the bitching blonde. Mina rubbed Kaminari’s back in a fake comforting way.

“He’s got Y/n, that’s what he’s got.” Sero had to dodge his besties fist. He laughed while hiding behind Mina who rolled her eyes but was also laughing.

“Denki!!!” Your voice cut through the chatter of the crowds around them. You rushed around the students and directly into Kaminari’s waiting embrace. He wrapped his arms tightly around you before spinning. You giggled and to anyone watching they’d think you two were dating. Actually, until you told your classmates about your boyfriend, they all thought you and Denki were a couple.  Mina wanted so badly to be able to support both of you but it was hard since you were happy with someone else and Kaminari so desperately wanted to be with you.

“What’s up babe?” That was the thing with Kaminari, he came off as a playboy. He was smirking at you with the pet name slipping from his lips. You giggled since you were so used to it by now. He was your best friend. However, Kaminari wished you knew how much he wanted to be with you. He wanted the pet name to be real, not just something he said with false confidence. You knew he was playing around but he actually wasn’t. The term was enduring, and he wanted to tell you but couldn’t. Especially now looking at the diamond necklace around your neck with your first initial and your boyfriends.

“Denki! You better not be looking at my chest!” Kaminari flushed red and looked at his friends for help. Sero was laughing manically, clutching his middle while holding onto Mina for dear life. Bakugou had already abandon all of them to go to class. Kirishima looked like he wanted to follow the blasty boy but waited for the rest of their friends. “I wasn’t staring, I was admiring your necklace.”

You believed him, or at least the smile that spread across your face seemed like you had. You lifted the necklace holding the charms between your fingers. Oh boy how he wished you would look at him like you looked at the chain around your throat. You returned your attention to him letting the necklace drop against your skin.

“Denki. I want you to come to dinner with me tonight.” Kaminari almost fainting at your statement. You had Mina and Sero’s jaws on the ground. “I want all of you to come to dinner with me and meet my boyfriend”

There it was, there had been no way you were actually asking him and he was let down. He knew he shouldn’t have gotten his hopes up. Mina and Sero looked at their friend with pity. Sero bit his fist shaking his head, hurting for his buddy being done dirty like that. Kirishima smiled and nodded, he would be acting as the ambassador of the Bakusquad in Bakugou’s absence.

“We’d love to. When did you want to have this dinner?” Kaminari felt betrayed by Kirishima even though he wouldn’t be able to tell you no. “Tonight at 7, we have reservations at that Chinese hot pot place downtown. I hope that’s okay with you guys.”

“Sounds amazing, we’ll be there.” Kirishima flashed you his manly smile which you returned. You hugged Kaminari before running off to class. Kaminari was frozen not wanting to move. He had a permanent pout as his friends dragged him off to class. He would try to play nice but if a plug malfunctions and electrocutes your boyfriend it can’t really be helped. He thought about a million excuses to use to get out of this. He already had a hard time watching you text or hearing you talk about your boyfriend. He would literally die if he had to watch it with his own eyes.

“I’m not going.” Kaminari had his arms crossed while leaning against Kirishima’s door. Kirishima raised a brow before pursing his lips in annoyance. He was going to scold Kaminari about how unmanly that was but Bakugou beat him to it. “If I have to fucking go so do you dunce face.”

“But” Mina walked in through the open doorway pouting at his attempts to bail. They knew he liked you and that his was hard but they wouldn’t let him hurt you like that.  “No buts except yours out that door and to the hot pot place. We can’t keep them waiting.”

A groan of frustration and heartache escaped as Mina dragged in out by his wrist. Kirishima laughed walking out with an annoyed Bakugou. Sero was downstairs waiting for his friends and when he saw Kaminari he slapped his back. “It’s okay, if you wanna bail later just say you got a stomach ache and leave.”

With his friends by his side and a good back up plan to bail in his pocket Kaminari was ready to face his fear.

-----------------------------------------

Laugher broke out amongst your friends as they made fun of something you had done during training a week prior. Your face was red from laughing so much and you were wheezing. Your friends just kept throwing out stories about you which flattered but also embarrassed you. Bakugou elbowed Kirishima when he leaned over mentioning the angry blondes soft spot for you. Sero chimed in mentioning how you were allowed to insult Bakugou playfully and not die. Mina talked about how gorgeous you looked in literally anything but also how you owned a lot of stupid clothing pieces. You choked on water before smacking her hand. She shrugged talking about how you owned mens Hawaiian style shirts and light up glasses.

Every time you laughed you would look at your boyfriend to see if he was enjoying himself. He was quiet but smiling. He would laugh once in a while which made you extremely happy. You wanted your best friends to get along with your boyfriend. As much fun as this was you weren’t completely happy because your favorite person wasn’t happy. Kaminari hadn’t contributed to the conversations and barely touched the food. Every once in awhile he would smile or nod along. It made you sad, broke your heart. Did he not feel well? You excused yourself to the bathroom to think of a plan on how to get him to tell you what was wrong. You skirt lifted up pretty high when you jumped up. Mina giggled when she caught sight of your underwear. You could be ditzy at times so you didn’t even notice it happen. Bakugou growled at your stupidity while Kaminari’s hand shot out pulling the fabric back down. He wasn’t even looking at you when he did it. You turned watching his hand return to his side. You didn’t catch the dark aura that surrounded your boyfriend but your friends did. Without any words you ran off. Sitting on the toilet you watched your phone screen typing and retyping questions for Kaminari. Eventually you dropped your head. “Did I do something wrong?”

“Y/n?” Mina called out for you as she entered the bathroom. She didn’t like the tension that was surrounding the table so she left to check on you. You opened the stall and she saw the sadness in your eyes. “What’s wrong.”

You got up and walked into her waiting arms. She hugged and rocked you slightly. The one thing about the Bakusquad was they were very protective of you. She knew something was bothering you even before you left the table.

“I think Denki is mad at me.” Mina was actually surprised by your statement. Never would she expect you to think that. Kaminari never gave the impression that he was upset with you, even today she thought he just gave the aura that he didn’t want to be around your boyfriend, not you. He always looked at you with admiration and longing. He was an idiot but not dumb enough to hurt your feelings. That’s why he was here. “Kaminari isn’t mad at you, he’s just being dumb. He doesn’t like your boyfriend.”

She knew that saying it was controversial and would cause problems but she had to say it so you didn’t think ill of him. You looked so confused. “Why?”

What could she say? Hey Kaminari is in love with and he can’t stand to see you with another guy. Or maybe she could say, hey the moment you left your boyfriend stared down the boys with a look that was laced with possession and jealousy. Bakugou looked like he wanted to kill him and Sero looked physically uncomfortable and usually he was the one that got along with everyone. She didn’t want to start drama.

“Well, um. He doesn’t like when other guys are around you. He’s kind of protective of you.” You looked unconvinced.

“I hang out with guys in class all the time, how is this different? This is my boyfriend. I just you guys to all get along.” Your hands play with the ends of your skirt and she just wants to hug you and leave the boys to take care of this. That’s not how this night was about to go. Outside the bathroom in the private seating area you had reserved things were heating up and not because the hot pot.

“You don’t own Y/n!” Bakugou snapped at your boyfriend who made a comment about how you should wear more modest clothes around boys. Kirishima was pissed along side the hot head.

“I don’t own her but she is MY girlfriend. She shouldn’t be showing her panties to every guy around her. Also, it seems like you guys have sleepovers together. That’s gonna stop. She will not be spending the night with a bunch of guys like some kind of whore.” Bakugou was ready to attack but he didn’t have to, Kaminari slammed his fist into your boyfriend’s face. The sound of his knuckles meeting the boy’s jaw could be heard through the thin paper doors. “She’s not a whore and you’re a fucking asshole.”

Bakugou smirked while Kirishima told him to stop. Your boyfriend rubbed his face before hitting Kaminari back. You ran out with Mina when you heard yelling. You ended up walking up as Kaminari hit him again. You screamed for him to stop and his blood ran cold. You witnessed him as the bad guy and he never wanted that to happen. He watched the harsh glare you sent him as you held onto your boyfriends bleeding face. “Y/n it’s not what you think!”

“Don’t… Just don’t.” You left with disappointment in your eyes. Your boyfriend won and the real story was never told. The Bakusquad knew the truth and were willing to tell you since they wanted you to break up with him. Kaminari left ignoring his friends. He harshly rubbed angry tears into his hoodie as he walked the darkening streets. He just wanted to protect you. He knew that guy was right for you and now he just lost the ability to prove he could love you the way you deserved to be.

-------------------------------------

“You can’t hang out with them anymore.” You had been icing your boyfriends’ nose when he spoke up, he was dead serious. You were mad but not mad enough to end friendships over this. “But they’re my friends.”

“Aren’t I your boyfriend? Don’t you care about me? That crazy red eyed demon said horrible things to me and that electric idiot hit me. How can you defend them when I’m bleeding?” You were mad when he called your friends insulting names. You knew this was a bad first impression but you didn’t want to tear apart your life because of this. You looked at him and he stared back with a stern look. You felt guilty like this was all your fault. “For now, I’ll give them space but I don’t think I can stop being their friend.”

This was a small victory for him but a lose for you. You couldn’t imagine a world where they weren’t in it, but this is what he wanted and you loved him, right?

-----------------------------------

A few days passed and you hadn’t talked to your friends and it was killing you. They didn’t avoid you so it was even harder. Kirishima tried to talk to you but you just ran off. Sero and Mina cornered you but you escaped. Bakugou tracked you down but you hid in the girl’s bathroom for hours till he gave up. Kaminari hadn’t gone after you and that part broke your heart even more. You wanted to ask him what had happened but couldn’t get yourself to go against your boyfriend’s words. This whole fucked up scenario and started affecting your work and training. You were distracted and tired. Everyone could see what that boy was doing to you, expect you, you couldn’t see his manipulation. Deep down you knew, how could you not. It was just hard to think that he was bad when he was so caring in the beginning.

“Y/n!” You couldn’t run when the whole squad excluding Kaminari approached you. They had you trapped, no where left to run. “Okay, tell me what happened.”

-------------------------------------

You stood in your UA uniform leaning against the fence surrounding the park that you had many lunch dates with your boyfriend at. You had texted him to meet you. Your friends had told you what was said by the man you were supposed to trust and love. You didn’t want to believe it but it had to be true. They wouldn’t hurt you unless they had too. You knew what needed to be done even if it hurt and left you with scars on your heart. The breeze blowing by lifted your skirt which you pushed down to avoid another incident like at the restaurant. You look up and see your boyfriend smiling at you. He hugs you before you can speak. “I was gonna ask you to meet up with me and then you texted me, what perfect timing.”

You wondered what he wanted to talk about and the possibility of him telling you the truth popped into your mind. You hoped he wanted to own what he had said and done. Oh boy were you wrong. “What did you want to talk about?”

“Oh, I wanted to tell you that I think you should quit UA. I think being a hero is to draining and it doesn’t look good on you. Your always getting injured and that hurts me. I can’t worry about you. I don’t want to have to fight for your attention. That school is bad for you. You should transfer to my school; you’d look better in our uniform anyway.” Talk about a blow to your chest. He hit you where it hurt. You loved UA and your dream, that you mentioned all the time, was to be an amazing hero. He wanted you to give up who you were to be his, his arm candy. You were strong, courageous, heroic but to him you were clumsy, reckless, and in over your head. You wanted to believe that he meant well but this wasn’t at all in your favor. You were a doll and everything your friends told you made perfect sense and fit directly into this puzzle. A puzzle you no longer wanted to be a piece of. “I’ll give you time to think about it.”

“No.”

“No…No? What do you mean no.” He was looking at you with distain, like you just spit on his new shoes.

“I’m not leaving UA. Actually, the only thing I’m leaving is you.” You wore your confidence proudly. A girl passing by yelled that she was proud of you and that fuck him. You had to bite back the laugh that wanted to escape. You crossed your arms waiting for his response. He nodded and started pacing. He looked pissed, his lip twitching. He turned toward you dropping his arms by his sides and walked toward you. You stood your ground as he looked down at you. You looked him over before staring into his burning eyes. He was heavily breathing and for a moment you thought he was gonna hit you. “You’re a stupid whore anyway and I don’t need you. Have fun with your fucking gang bang.”

“I will.” He hadn’t expected you to get the last word and so proudly spoken to. You threw him off guard but he punched you off your feet. You were on your ass stunned. He turned to leave and you saw the girl from a moment ago yelling while running toward him. Another person came running cause your ex to ditch out. You helped yourself up thanking the strangers. Beside the pain of your swollen lip you felt good, free. You headed home with a slight pep in your step.

“Denki?” Kaminari was waiting outside the dorm building. He turned wanting to apologize but stopped. He saw your lip and felt rage course through his veins. He stormed passed you but you caught his arms stopping him. “He did this to me but it’s okay. I broke up with him. It’s actually why he did it. Fuck him though, right.”

You were smiling despite your bruised lip. Your eyes gleamed with life and happiness again, it was enough to calm Kaminari’s anger, for now. He sighed before going back into the dorm building. He returned with an ice pack. He held it to your lip earning him a huge smile from you. He smiled back at you causing your heart to clench. You hadn’t realized how much you missed him till he was in front of you. You lean against his side while he ices your wound. “Hey Denki, Mina told me you didn’t like my boyfriend before all the fighting happened. What made you hate him prior to meeting him?”

He could have lied and lived with the truth forever but he needed you. He loved you and would give up anything for you to realize that. This was the moment he could free himself from carrying this burden. If you broke his heart, he would still love you and be your best friend.

“I hated him because he had the most important thing in my life and I didn’t. He had your love, your heart. I, I love you and just wished that I could have been him.” He was red and he was sure he was about to go into cardiac arrest but hey he said it. You had wished that he had told you before, before all this shit had to happen. You wished that you never went out with that asshole but chased after Kaminari. You had liked him all this time but thought he was just being nice and flirting because that’s who he was. Hearing him be shy yet confident and tell you made you realize you could have had this all along. A happy ending with your favorite person. You started crying and hit him which made him think he fucked up. You held into his shirt sobbing while looking at him. He was scared and hated himself for making you cry.

“Y/N please don’t cry! I’m sorry, you don’t have to like me.” You hit him again before hugging him. He hugged you back with no hesitation. “I don’t hate you idiot. I just wish you saved me the heart break and told me earlier. I love you too Denki.”

His heart stopped and you actually could physically feel him breathing, you let go and waved a hand in front of his eyes. He looked like he had just overused his quirk but with a little more shock and less stupid. You felt like you should get somebody but before you could escape you were grabbed. His arms held you tightly against his body, his breath hot against your ear. “I hope you realize what you’re getting yourself into.”

“Denki, I’m well aware and willing.” You giggled and pressed your nose to his. He countered your cute sentiment with his own. His lips gently pressed into your own with hope that it wouldn’t be painful for you. There were sparks which was cliché and almost ironic but nonetheless there were sparks. Your lips moved forming themselves perfectly against his. Despite the swelling and bruising you felt that this was exactly how your first kiss should have gone. It could have lasted forever but that was unrealistic. You had to pull away to breathe. He laughed and your foreheads met when he leaned down, his arms holding your waist. You didn’t know it but there were now pictures and recordings of this timeless moment because a certain group was watching. They were happy for the both of you. Bakugou though made a mental note to take the squad out later to find your ex and repay him for your lip.

[gainerstories]

Lifeguard Off Duty: Epilogue

Bradley washed his hands in the bathroom and examined his imposing frame. There was no denying it: he had gone soft from working an office job. And not just a little soft, almost 200 pounds of fat soft. Looking at himself in the mirror, he could barely remember the ultra fit lifeguard who started at city hall all those years ago.

As he absorbed the image before him, he appreciated how the fabric of his tucked in plaid button up was completely filled with his rounded out belly, but not so tight that the buttons strained. It had taken him a few months of squeezing into outgrown clothes, seams tearing, and holes forming in the crotch of his pants before he finally learned how to dress for his size. Now, he felt confidence in the way his suspenders framed his shapely and prominent gut. His size was not something to hide, but to wear with pride. He avoided the oversized and misshapen clothes that so many larger men wore, preferring pants that hugged his rounded ass cheeks and wide thighs and shirts that cupped his distended belly.

With shoulders back and hips forward to accommodate his girth, Bradley swaggered out of the bathroom and towards the cafeteria with all the confidence in the world. After four years climbing the ladder at city hall and one long election cycle, Bradley was now the Mayor of Adipol. He grabbed a cinnamon roll, the kind Peter used to sell to him, and poured a cup of coffee while reciting his speech in his head. Later that afternoon he was to cut the ribbon at the unveiling of a new beach in town.

Abundance Beach had been overrun with trash and pollutants for decades, but after a year of intensive clean up and restoration under Bradley’s leadership it was now sparkling clean. The cleanup was a boon for real estate around the beach and a small commercial sector was beginning to spring forth nearby, including a third location for Muffin Tops.

Bradley gobbled up his cinnamon roll and ordered a foot long sub sandwich, bread bowl of chili, and potato chips that he brought back to his office. He needed to fuel up before waddling out to the beach front. Tucked behind his desk in his reinforced office chair, Bradley unfolded a napkin and tucked it into the collar of his shirt. These days, this was the only way for him to pig out in public without getting his shirt covered in food stains. He also cracked a beer he kept in the mini fridge of his office. A little alcohol always helped loosen him up before public speaking engagements.

Eventually the food was gone and his tank was so full that it felt noticeably heavier resting in his lap. Leaning back, he took a photo of his bloated belly on his laptop and sent it to Peter who encouraged him to drink one more beer to top it off. Bradley chuckled when he saw the message, chugged an IPA, stood up, and waddled to his car.

He arrived at the beach early but even still a crowd had formed before the ribbon. As mayor, he was dressed professionally in long sleeves and pants despite the fact it was the dead of summer. As a result he began to sweat almost immediately upon leaving his air conditioned car. Standing before the ribbon he looked into the faces of the eager children and young parents before him. Behind him stood Peter, a variety of local business owners, and staff from city hall.

Bradley delivered his short speech and was presented with a pair of giant scissors by his treasurer. Dramatically he snipped the red ribbon and everyone cheered before heading down to the water. Back in the parking lot, drinks were served at a makeshift bar and several shop owners had set up booths peddling their wares and foods. Avoiding the sand and discovering that Peter had disappeared, Bradley headed towards the bar.

“Bradley Parker! I am just so proud whenever I see your face!” Wanda exclaimed and rushed over to wrap her arms around Bradley in a big bear hug.

Bradley chuckled, “Always a pleasure to see you Wanda.”

“It has been so great to watch your growth all these years. From a mere coordinator to Mayor in record time! I can still remember your first day. You were a nervous little waif trying so hard to do your best. And now look: large and in charge! My god I’d never guess that you were such a big eater when you started. And I see that that cushy mayor’s office has been treating you particularly well,” Wanda winked and pinched Bradley’s overhang.

“You know me too well, Wanda. Now if you’ll excuse me I’m gonna grab a beer and make the rounds.”

“Oh of course, Mr. Mayor. Sorry to take your time. It was great seeing you.”

At the bar Bradley ran into Eric and his boyfriend who were wearing nothing but their swimsuits. Bradley couldn’t tell if the two men had indeed grown fatter since he last saw them, or if he never realized they were this fat until he saw them shirtless. Eric held a tall blended cocktail that matched the color of the bright red stretch marks on his lower belly. Meanwhile, his boyfriend leaned the upper half of his belly and moobs against the bar while ordering. From behind, he was just a series of rolls squeezed into swim trunks.

“Look at you at you Mayor Bradley! Large and in charge as always I see,” Eric chimed.

“Eric! So nice to see you,” Bradley said while motioning to the bartender that he’d like a beer. “How has it been back at the office? I miss you guys.”

“Same ‘ol same ‘ol, you know how it is. Nothing too exciting. I will say we’ve made use of your bill expanding funding. We’ve been doing team outings once a quarter and have Muffin Tops catered every Monday morning.”

“That sounds fantastic! You’re making me jealous I’m not there anymore.”

“It’s been nice! Although I think the bakery has been taking a toll on the old waistline,” Eric slapped his overhang. “I’ve put on about thirty pounds this year alone.”

“Tell me about it. Once I started at city hall this thing hasn’t stopped growing. I’m leaning into it, though, and I’ll tell you what Eric- it looks good on you!” Bradley slapped Eric’s belly in the same spot, leaving a momentary handprint.

Eric blushed and replied, “Mr. Mayor,” coquettishly.

“Say, where’s Malcolm?” Bradley mentioned.

“Well, speaking of packing it on!” Eric began. “Malcolm just fucking ballooned, like I mean huge, like massive. We had to order him a specialty office chair that was wide set and could support up to 600 pounds because he broke the other one. You’d think that would be a wake up call but that did not slow him down. He’s currently at a six month fat camp up north. He had to have been like, I don’t know, pushing 500 pounds when he left. Like, unrecognizable. Real wake up call for the rest of us fatties... not that I’ve lost any weight recently.”

“Wow, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised to hear that, but I am. Glad he’s doing what’s best for him,” Bradley responded as Eric’s boyfriend joined with his fruity cocktail. “Well I’ll let you boys hit the beach while I search for Peter. He should be hiding somewhere. He doesn’t enjoy the spotlight.”

“Well it was great seeing you Bradley. You’re a great leader,” Eric said and wobbled towards the beach.

With his beer in hand, Bradley wandered through the crowd looking for Peter. The dark asphalt coupled with the increasingly dense crowd was creating a heat bubble around the parking lot that had Bradley sweating bullets. He was sure that the T-shirt underneath his button up was completely soaked with sweat and feared it would begin soaking through his outer layer. He could even feel beads of sweat drip from his fat pad, around his junk, and down his leg.

“Mayor Parker!” exclaimed a gushing female voice vaguely recognizable to Bradley.

He turned around to see Diane, the new hire who hit on him constantly before he ran for Mayor. She stood with her arm linked to a man that was nearly, but not quite, as fat as Bradley. Without invitation Diane wrapped her free arm around Bradley’s back in a hug, giving his love handle a sneaky squeeze, and causing his lower back sweat to finally pervade his button up.

“Diane, how nice to see you,” Bradley responded flatly while awkwardly sustaining her unwanted advances.

“And this is Christian,” Diane said, “you remember him? He was your replacement, also a former lifeguard.”

Bradley stared at the hulking man before him. The Christian who was his replacement was lean and muscular. It didn’t seem possible that someone almost as big as Bradley himself could have gained all that weight in such a short amount of time. Bradley shook Christian’s hand and made small talk with the couple, all the while contemplating what a massive eater Christian must be to have ballooned like that. Then it hit him: Diane was clearly a feeder and Christian’s gains were no accident.

Eventually, Bradley excused himself and tried to squeeze away through the crowded parking lot. Finally, he laid eyes on Peter who was drinking a beer in the corner by himself. The couple embraced and held a long kiss. As they stepped away Bradley heard someone say his name from behind.

“Mayor Bradley Parker! Large and in charge I see!”

Bradley turned around and accidentally smashed his belly into Diego’s own rotund gut.

“Why does everyone keep saying that?” Bradley said.

“Well look at you!” Diego replied. “Your belly just knocked mine. I mean sheesh, look at this thing- you’re starting to make me look petite!”

Diego and Hayden each wore shorts and a loosely draped Hawaiian print button up that subtly rested on their curves. Diego’s was unbuttoned half way down revealing his massive hairy pecs, and tucked in to display the fullness of his girth. Hayden on the other hand left his untucked, occasionally flashing a glimpse of belly.

The two couples had become somewhat close in recent months, as Diego was routinely at city hall as he expanded Muffin Tops into a chain and began filing the paperwork to start franchising. In the last few years their original location expanded to serve bread and savory pastries, Diego bought out Thick Treats and converted it into a Muffin Tops, and everything was now in place to open their third location at Abundance Beach in just a few days.

In the midst of conversation, Diego invited Bradley and Peter to the new bakery nearby. The walk there was not far, but pushed Bradley over the edge. By the time they arrived his clothes were drenched in sweat and he was wiping his brow dry.

“Why don’t you take those stuffy clothes off?” Diego suggested. “We’re all friends here, no need to be overly professional Mr. Mayor.”

Bradley removed his outer layer so he was only wearing a white tee that was now see through from the sweat and rode up to just below his belly button. He sat on a nearby table while Diego expressed surprise that Bradley was now definitely the biggest man in the room. From a distance, the sound of squeaky wheels turning approached. Bradley looked over to see Jeremy emerging from the kitchen pushing a three tiered cake.

“We wanted to congratulate you on the new beach!” Hayden exclaimed. “You’ve been so great to all of us and this town so we made your favorite chocolate cake.”

The room clapped and Jeremy began to cut the cake. Bradley had to do a double take upon seeing Jeremy close up. Not only was he much tanner, but Bradley’s former gym bud now had a serious gut hanging off of him. Bradley knew that he’d moved in with Diego and Hayden but he could of sworn he saw Jeremy in the gym looking fit as ever a few months ago. Flabbergasted, Peter broke the silence on the subject.

“Jeremy, you look different…” Peter said suggestively.

“Are you talking about this thing?” Jeremy pushed his hips forward and grabbed his belly with both hands, giving it a proud shake. “I took a two month vacation of unbridled hedonism in the Italian countryside.”

“Did wonders, I’d say!” grinned Diego.

Jeremy served each of the men massive hunks of cakes and simply placed the entirety of the top tier on Bradley’s plate. Before digging in, they popped a bottle of champagne and cheersed.

“To Bradley, our dear friend, Mayor, and loyal customer of Muffin Tops,” Diego said.

“And to you guys,” Bradley responded, “My dear friends, my lovely encouraging partner, and… to Jeremy’s new pot belly!”

The five men stepped closer to clink glasses, causing their bellies to softly squish into one another.

This is a co-authored story by gainerstories and gainingfiction.

This chapter is written by gainerstories.

[cowandcalf]

10.12 – Review and Spoilers

and some I-got-carried-away thoughts on Steve's character – meta-ish and super long

I wasn't sure what to expect from this episode and I got rewarded with so many magnificent details, especially with a lot of wonderful glimpses into Steve's personality when he's competing with someone. And this said someone is not only a former team guy but this someone also drives a Ferrari and has an impressive reputation and is a hidden fan of a so-called Steve McGarrett. Magnum is such a big fan that even his own team he's working with nowadays has heard all about the legendary McGarrett moves and ops and stories. And that speaks of such a high respect Magnum has for Steve McGarrett that everything else just fades away. Magnum's respect and the honor he feels for being with Steve is real. There's this deep understanding that Steve's ready to accept at the end of the day. But only after Magnum has proved himself being worthy.

But I'm not there yet. Whoa, getting derailed so fast right from the start. So that's what I'm gonna write about most in this review: Steve and his attitude, the SEAL spirit and a bit about Magnum because he's the reason Steve acts the way he does. And I'll write about Danny, about the omnipresent, strong, gorgeous, leaving-visible-dents-in Steve's-emotional-armor presence of Danny energy. God, those references about Danny during the entire episode…I loved those! The way Steve's partner came up and was mentioned every now and then was just a blessing for my McDanno heart.

And Steve's response to Magnum's actions also speaks volumes about the relationship he has with Danny. I hope I can get it out the way I feel it. I hope, in the end, everything makes sense.

This episode is fun to watch, Steve and Magnum are all about Alpha moves, flexing muscles and showing off, trying to make an impression on the other man – in a very silent, kind of cautious, intelligent way, of course. Like the archaic animals, these men are deep inside, well-hidden. They must mark their territory. They need to check the other out before they even think about being appreciative of each other. At least, Steve acts this way. Magnum tries to wrap his mind around the fact that he's actually working a case with the human legend he's fanboying over for years, apparently.

I grew up with Tom Selleck as Magnum and his trademark, the mustache, the red Ferrari and his stupid tight blue jeans with the belt. Anyway, Magnum, in my inner world is a tree of a man, tall and super hairy and intimidating. Higgins is a whiny, rich, wobbly guy with two wonderful Doberman pinscher. And I just needed some time to get used to a smaller Magnum, with no hairy arms and legs and a female Higgins with an impressive, wonderful British accent. And even though the Magnum Pi guys did a great job, they didn't grow on me. I appreciate Magnum (the new one) for completely other reasons that have entirely to do with Steve and Danny.

Okay, we have the first encounter of the two teams. I have to emphasize another important observation and it's an ongoing feeling throughout the episode. The H50 team, the ohana bond and everything they talk about are so rich in colors, so vivid and alive and so full of honest feelings. That's how I get the vibes. Higgins and Magnum are nice…they are okay…but they didn't manage to leave an impression…and I'm sorry but I can't really make it work. Their banter seems stages, not really coming from inside and from a place of true fondness. It's…just not flowing. At least, not for me. No offense, but I can't make it work with Higgins and Magnum.

That said, seeing both teams meet just highlights the significant difference in the spirit everyone emanates. And all the H50 ohana breathes a huge amount of charisma and freaking great vibes. And I love that!

When the H50 team digests the information of Higgins who has been an ex-spy, Steve eyes her with a silent jolt in his behavior. He takes her in with that measured look and it just occurred to me that once again he's confronted with a special female species. Tough woman, working for an agency, has been a spy once and it reminds him instantly, alarmingly intense of two women who have played a significant role in his life: Steve's mother Doris and Catherine Rollins.

Steve mentions that he likes "this one", pointing to Higgins and he lets her talk but the moment that it's out she's an ex-spy Steve takes a step back inwardly and he gives her a quick all-over. That's a fascinating moment.

Magnum: "McGarrett, I know that name, you're a team guy, right? I was a team guy, too."

And Steve's answer to that, completely flabbergasted: "Is that right?" (Because what the hell?)

Steve deals with the second, silent emotional blow within a few seconds. He's not prepared to meet a former SEAL. And because Steve's bound to every SEAL with a code of honor it's literally visible how his mind works overtime to get things right in his head. This Hawaiian-shirt-wearing-bare-legged-sun-tanned guy is a former SEAL?? And Steve's anyway a bit pissed because he got an anonymous tip from a male voice leading him in the right direction. And now, he's been told that it's this guy. Steve's not fond of such moments. And he stays skeptical although his inner conviction doesn't allow him to be distant. SEALs are brothers, no matter what.

There's more!

Steve warms up to Magnum. He addresses him as, "and you Mr. Private investigator you come with me."

Steve's forceful Alpha move number one is to convince Magnum somehow to let him drive the Ferrari. Okay, here's what I think about that.

It's about ranks and pack order. it's about the high respect Magnum has for Steve and because he's a brother, one of the reasons why legends get written. It's because of guys like McGarrett that legends live on. Because McGarrett is a freaking hero! And Magnum has no problem with all of this. He doesn't need to inflate his ego by fighting Steve. In fact, he understands Steve, he feels his brother and he lets him drive, bowing to the force of nature that is Steve McGarrett. Magnum pays respect to this man and honors his service just by this move. I might exaggerate a bit but seriously, that's how I see it.

And just for the record, Steve…oh well, Steve needs a boost for his ego. He needs to show that he's the Alpha and that's he has a say in this. He needs to know he wrestled Magnum into submission and is kind of blockhead, too busy to enjoy the moment and that he made it behind the steering wheel. He's so smug and confident and almost combusts with all the joy and the arousal to have his hands on the steering wheel of this freaking, awesome Ferrari-stud! Jesus! I know he's hard while he stomps the gas! Come on, Steve, admit it!

And Magnum has the freaking nerve to mention Danny (your partner) and tells Steve right to his face that Danny doesn't do well with riding always in the passenger's seat. But Steve's glowing and the hidden smile shines through when he confirms in this classical, smug way that Danny's okay with him driving Danny's car. That's almost the cutest thing ever.

Steve, dude!

And then, Christ! The 'white knight' conversation happens. I try to summarize this. Steve reads. He reads books written by former SEALs, or about the experiences of former SEALs.

Steve: "Entertaining but unrealistic though. There's no way a character that cocky would ever, ever make it through BUD/s."

He's seriously impressed that Magnum knows the author of that said book. In fact, Robin the author is Magnum's boss. And it gets better. The 'wight knight' has left an impression on Steve. Steve admires this guy!! This cocky guy couldn't have made it through BUD/s, nu-huh, no freaking way!

Steve: "So, you're sayin' you're the white knight?"

Magnum: "Well, that's classified. But I will say that the lead character is based on a heroic, charismatic individual who will do anything to get the job done."

Guess, what? Robin has been embedded with Magnum's team for the research on this book. So, Magnum answers with Steve's favorite line - that's classified! Come on!!! That's totally Steve's mojo! And Steve's face! I can't even. He looks at Magnum and all of Steve screams what the fuck, man?

And it dawns on Steve that this cocky bastard he thinks would never, ever make it through BUD/s is in fact – Magnum! The realization…hilarious! Steve's brain shifts into gear and he can hardly believe what he's just discovered.

Steve, with a soft smile: "…I might be in the presence of greatness right now."

Then, that scene where Magnum picks the lock with his tools and Steve watches. Steve plays the correct cop who seems to follow the rules. He lets Magnum open the door though, causing a crime but the important detail is the fact that Steve points to the badge to emphasize he can't break the rules.

I remember a scene where Steve and Danny stand in front of a closed door and Danny thinks about how to get in while Steve just kicks down the door. Danny yells at him and calls him 'a Neanderthal animal' but follows him regardless of what Steve just did. Steve loves to get Danny's attention no matter how this happens. Ranting always means caring and Steve bathes in Danny's way of caring.

Magnum finds the documents hidden under the fridge. Steve makes it up to him with his compliment. "Nice found!" only to pull the next Alpha move of hastily reading the documents written in Chinese, completely ignoring Magnum.

And that scene where Magnum disarms Steve, dislodging the clip of his gun because the perp told him so. That's also a great moment, revealing what Danny has known for a long time. Steve has feelings for his gun. Magnum does as he's been told and pulls the gun from the holster. Steve's senses are on high alert and he sells out Magnum to the perp. Steve searches for a way out, but his real concerns are on his weapon. The way the sheer disbelief shows on his face when Magnum carelessly throws his gun into the bushes almost hurts and makes me laugh at the same time. Steve can't believe how disrespectful Magnum treats his gun! That's such a great moment.

Steve's excitement about driving a Ferrari is infectious. I'm sensing Alex' and Chi's personality seeping through their characters of Steve and Lou when they whisper conspiratorially about how it feels to drive a Ferrari. There's so much passion, breathlessness, and this male want and I love that short, intense moment so much.

The other, sweet glimpse of how Steve feels about Danny comes next. The team watches Magnum and Higgins bicker (I'm not fond of that bickering, too staged, too little heart and honesty in it, doesn't catch my attention) but anyway, the team exchanges funny looks, and Lou asks if they are reminded of anyone by watching the argument of the other two. Steve doesn't even bat an eye, and no one can draw a breath and his reply follows like a shot.

Steve: "Danny and I aren't like that."

Steve instantly catches on who his ohana talks about. He denies everything about what they are teasing about. Steve utters his comment on the topic with a finale tone, like anything about him and Danny bickering is non-negotiable. His arms are crossed over his chest and his stance is wide and solid, unmovable. No one touches Danny! Forbidden territory. Period. And I love that moment, it doesn't even last three seconds but it talks volumes how Steve feels about Danny.

Now, let's talk also about this epic scene in the car when Steve gets a ride by Magnum's team.

Steve: "I would've called my people, but Magnum insisted on calling you guys."

Magnum wanted his team to meet this legend, Steve McGarrett because he knows how much this would mean to his guys! That's so cute and sweet and lovely and really, really kind and deep. I have feelings about this, Magnum genuinely admires Steve, being a SEAL with every fiber of his body and soul. Heaven help!

And before Magnum's team can catch up Magnum has a little chit-chat on his own with Steve and about being a SEAL and about…so much for "no man left behind". Again, some arm-wrestling to prove who's stronger but there's no heat behind that argument more like old buddies catching up.

And then…ohmygod!! TC is my hero! TC says one of the most epic sentences ever in this episode! I'm still reeling from those words. They are super great, sweet Jesus!

TC: "I'm sorry, but I got to ask. There's this SEAL named McGarrett that we always used to hear about. Fought in Operation Avalanche and the Battle of Garmsir. He also led the team that rescued those hostages in Karachi."

THAT'S PURE ADMIRATION RIGHT THERE!! Not only does this mean that Magnum has been gushing about McGarrett all the time because he's so fond of this guy and full of admiration, no, it also shows us what kind of hero Steve is. But SEALs don't talk about their work. They just get the job done and move on. They work in the shadows.

But Steve answers that kind of question…like:

Steve: "Yeah, yeah, that was me."

I mean…*LE GASP*!! WHAT?? How can he just give such a flat-out super direct answer and admitting every-fucking-thing?? I was like…BACKPADDLE! I CAN'T KEEP UP WITH WHAT JUST HAPPENED!

I mean. Whoa! From all the moments Danny has been asking Steve questions about his work in the Navy and as a SEAL there was always the same answer is given by Steve: "I neither can confirm nor deny it." Or my favorite one: "This is classified." And those answers always drove Danny up the wall and into more ranting.

Do you remember the time where the H50 team was allowed to join the operation room from an active SEAL operation? They helped to solve a case where a drug lord (I guess) was involved and they could watch the last op where a SEAL team took out the targets and killed all the tangos. So, and there was Danny asking Steve inappropriate questions about "Operation Strawberry field"…he was making fun of Steve in an odd Danny way. Joe White was quite fed up with Danny's attitude and he glared at him to get him to shut up. Steve seemed really a bit ashamed of Danny's disrespectful behavior.

Anyway, when Danny saw the live feed on how the SEAL team breached the house and how they were killing with precision and a tough skill set every target on place he suddenly went all quiet. He whispered to Steve: "You did that too?" with a tight voice. But Steve only said that he could neither confirm nor deny this question.

The realization of Steve's assigned task as a SEAL hits Danny like being clocked with a brick. But anyway, Danny has never admired Steve's SEAL career in an open way because he knew already then, that Steve's ego is about as big as Texas anyway. But that moment had an impact on Danny and he started to get the big picture.

Okay, let's go back to Steve's answer: Yeah, yeah, that was me. Maybe he said that because he still feels a bit intimidated and surprised by sitting next to the 'white knight'.

The way Steve's answered TC kind of caught me off guard. He's admitting so openly that he was the one leading those operations and he kind of enjoys the admiration (he soaks it up like a dry sponge…to be honest). He really loves being the center of the attention and that's a new one. It's touching how much TC and Rick are really into Steve and his way of being a real hero.

And then TC goes for the kill: "Man, do you realize this is the same cat that took out Anton and Victor, Hess?"

Hello?? TC addresses Steve as 'the same cat'…God! This is highly seductive and hot…as in stealthy, lethal, super primal jungle cat…I mean, what the hell, TC?

The guys are not finished yet.

TC: "This dude is a legit legend."

And here comes Rick: "You know, and I'm glad you brought it up because I-I just want to say, sir, it's an honor." (and he turns to look at Steve.)

Steve: "Thanks, bud."

TC: "We are in the presence of greatness."

(I'm so dead! This is so emotional and I love TC and Rick and Magnum, too because they are pure bliss for Steve's soul and heart.)

And it's not finished yet! There's this last scene where Steve thanks Magnum for working with him on the case. Steve had fun.

Magnum sees Joe White's picture on the wall and they talk about Joe. Steve is moved and there's a short flare of pain but the bonding happens over the fact that Magnum also knew Joe as one of the best instructors ever. And not only is Steve a legend but also in Magnum's eyes, he's also been close to Joe White. Magnum is a decent guy. There's no jealousy coming off of Magnum, only camaraderie and the joy to have gotten to know another brother. And I really love that about him.

I really appreciate the fact that Magnum offers Steve in a nice way to sit down and to talk. Let's grab a beer some time, referring to them as 'us team guys got to stick together' and Steve says 'yes' and not only that.

Steve: "Maybe you can bring those boys along. They're good for the ego."

And Steve shows Magnum the long-overdue respect by calling him the White Knight and telling him his secret is safe with him. Seriously, what a pile of emotions.

And that's such a sweet, honest thing to say and it's Steve who admits it. I just love this scene. And all these moments are also soaked with Danny's energy. First, Magnum wants to meet Steve's partner. Danny's kind of legend too, I guess. Who could keep up with the legit legend Steve McGarrett? This must be one of a kind. And Danny knew Joe White. Danny has been there when Steve just quit the SEALs to start Five-O. He has been with Steve all the time. Danny has helped him to adjust, to find his footing after being in the Navy for years.

And Danny has never been openly impressed by Steve's crazy. He always calls him out on his recklessness. He gives Steve a hard time and rants at him and tries to talk some sense into him. Danny has an unmatched backbone like no other and Steve admires that with all he's got.

And, of course, Steve wants to drag Danny along when they'll have that beer because he doesn't want to miss out on any of Danny's reactions when TC and Rick are all over Steve and fanboying like there's no tomorrow. What a show!

Okay, let's sum it up – it was a great episode with tons of hidden treasure I tried to dig up a bit. The last scenes are great, too. I love that Tani gives Junior a call and asks him out on a date. June sweet eye-widening speaks a silent, strong language and then…THAT CLIFFHANGER!! Oh god!!

Guys, that's it. I have nothing more to add only to emphasize how much secrets I've gotten to discover due to Magnum's attitude to treat Steve the way he did. And through Magnum Steve reveals a lot about how he feels about Danny and much more.

10.12 – another great episode.

Fin

[kpopcrabs]

Don’t Mind Me

Pairing: J-Hope x Reader

Words: 3.7k

Genre: Fluff

Summary: A mysterious man keeps entering your store and buying random things. At least he keeps it interesting.

“That’ll be $2.50,” you say as you look up at the customer. He was looking directly at you, staring deep into your eyes. If anything, it was making you quite uncomfortable. You fidgeted from one foot to the other as he slowly pulled out his wallet and swiped his credit card. “Thank you, come again.”

---

You were placing shirts back on their racks when the bell above the door chimed. “Welcome!” You call out cheerily as you try peering over the shirts to see who it is and whether or not they look suspicious. To your surprise, the man was back. He sent a smile your way, waving politely, and headed to the men’s section. 

You messily folded and threw clothes back on the standing shelves as you sneakily made your way over to the man. Your store was placed in a rather remote location, so this man was literally the only customer in the store.

You watched him flip through shirts haphazardly, almost as if something else was on his mind. “Are you looking for something specific, sir?” You raise a brow and he jumps a little, his mouth turned slightly downwards and his eyes wide.

“Ah, don’t mind me! I’m just looking for a shirt with a Hawaiian print on it.” His request was rather odd considering this town was no where near a beach. However, it was in your contract to help a customer.

You turn on your heel, raising your hand to gesture for him to follow. He quickly catches up and tails behind you like a puppy as you walk confidently through the store to the specific rack that holds some of the late season summer items. You stop and eye him for a second, taking in his appearance. He shifts awkwardly and you nod your head rather quickly, confirming all thoughts. ‘He’s fucking hot.’

You turn to the rack and flip through the shirts, the ideal one in mind. “So you look like a medium, roughly, but those arms and shoulders could be lying to me.” You speak to him with a false sense of confidence, grabbing the shirt and holding it up to his chest. He stares intensely at you, a look of utter fascination gracing him. You feel flustered a bit but attempt to not show it because you have no idea who he is. “Why don’t you go try this on in one of the dressing rooms, yeah?” You smile and wave him to the back where it says ‘Dressing Room’. He nods and smiles at you, quickly walking to the rooms.

You let out a small breath of relief and head to the rooms rather slowly, taking your time to look around the store to make sure it really was empty before procrastinating on your job further. You waited the room for the man patiently, flipping through papers that were left back there for some unknown reason; probably for when people were put in charge of checking the inventory. 

The sound of the lock from one of the dressing rooms doors twisting the other way perked your attention. You turned around to see the man exiting one of the rooms wearing the Hawaiian shirt you had picked out for him. The shirt hugged his frame rather tightly, as though it were trying to suffocate him. “Oh yeah, your torso was definitely lying to me.”

The man let out a chuckle, the brightest and most purest smile you had ever seen gracing his already beautiful face. You smile back, lips over your teeth. “Yeah, I think I might need a large,” he looked down and then back up at you. Oh your lord, he was the most precious-

“I’m sorry, I’ll be back in a second.” You quickly walk away, the small burning sensation from a blush trying to spread across your cheeks being your motivation to move away from him as fast as possible. You stand in front of the shirt rack, calm down a bit, and then head back to the man with the shirt in a larger size. You hand him the shirt, his fingers grazing over yours as he grabbed it, making your heart stutter inside your chest. As he locked the door you grabbed your chest, breathing quite heavily. Frankly, it was rather unhealthy for this man to be in your presence. If just a slight skim of his touch affected you this much, than you should definitely book it. However, that feeling of wanting to be held in his embrace for the rest of eternity was much more intriguing.

You moved over to the counter, holding on as you clutched your chest. Unbeknownst to you the man was in the dressing room having his own mini heart attack, After all, he didn’t need to come back to this store anymore, but after seeing you the other day, he knew he needed to come back. He came out of the dressing room again, wearing the larger shirt. He was probably the only person you had seen enter this store and wear that shirt and actually make it look good. 

“Do you like it?” You ask, raising a brow. He looked in a mirror that was placed among one of the walls and checked himself out.

“Yeah, it looks great!” He smiles at you and you could’ve swore that smile was going to be the death of you. “Thank you so much; you have such a great taste in fashion!” The male quickly walked over to you and embraced you while still smiling. His arms felt like they belonged around you and you both knew that. The hug lasted for only a few short moments after you wrapped your arms around him in return, but you both also knew that this wouldn’t be the last hug.

“Great! You can change back and I’ll be over by the register,” you smile wholeheartedly, a tidal wave of warmth encasing you. He nodded and went back to change as you stood by the counter. 

He smelled like an orchid blooming with the small tinge of cologne. 

You smacked yourself in the forehead for a second as you realized you still didn’t know his name. What kind of monster were you?

“Hey, I didn’t know where to put the other shirt so I brought it up to you,” the man sheepishly scratched the back of his head as he placed the shirts on the counter.

You smirk and grab the smaller shirt, placing it in a bin behind the counter .”Oh, it’s alright! We don’t really have a sign over the rack where you are supposed to put it to tell you to put it there.” He nods as you scan the bar code on the shirt. “That’ll be $12.40.”

As he hands you the change in one hand and grabs the bag with the other, he says, “Hoseok, Jung Hoseok.”

It took you a hot second to realize that was his name and you respond, “(Y/N), (L/N) (Y/N).” He smiles broadly and waves at you as he walks out of the store. “Thank you, come again!”

---

He did come again. In fact, he kept returning each day and he would buy a random item each and every time. It ranged from accessories to clothes that were rather pricey in your money range. Something that came along with him each and every time was his smile and you could simply not get enough. You would smile right back at him and there also seemed to be some subtle flirting if anyone were there to notice it. You exchanged phone numbers a couple visits after the Hawaiian incident and if you weren’t working he would be texting you nonstop until you told him you were going to bed. It was really sweet, but then sometimes you wondered how he had the time to text you.

---

It was a rather quiet day in the store when the bell above the door chimed. You look up to greet them from the register to see the store’s owner enter. “Hello, (Y/N)! It’s good to see you again!”

You raise an eyebrow and straighten up. “Uh, yeah, good to see you too. What are you doing here?” You look around the store suspiciously, wondering if she had some hidden cameras for something. 

“Oh, I came to tell you that you’re being laid off. We’re simply not getting any customers and it’s pointless to run a store in an area so desolate. I’m sorry.” She looks at you in pity.

You freeze up, realizing your only source of income for your somewhat alright apartment is going down the drain. “Wait, when is this taking place?”

She pulls out her phone and checks her calendar. “You have two weeks before your pay gets cut off. In the two weeks we will send you your last couple of pay checks and then we will cut off ties with you. I apologize for the short notice,” she frowns and puts her phone in her pocket. 

You run a hand through your hair in contempt. “It’s- it’s alright. I’ll look for a job elsewhere.”

She waves at you and leaves the store, causing you to lean onto the counter and sigh. You were lucky enough to get a job so close to where you live, and the nearest store after this one was forty minutes away. You really didn’t want to drive that far since your car is pretty crappy.

The bell above the door rang again and you were too tired to look up or acknowledge the customer, just sighing further into your palms. 

“(Y/N), are you alright?” a male voice asked you from above.

You looked up to see Hoseok, a look of worry gracing his beautiful face. “Yeah, I’m perfectly fine.” You smile at him, the corners of your mouth not quite reaching your eyes. Hoseok could tell you were lying, you knew that, but he also wouldn’t pressure you to answer what was actually making you upset.

“Alright,” he drums his fingers against the counter top and looks around the store. “(Y/N)?”

“Yes Hoseok?” You asked tiredly.

“Would you...” he tugs on the long sleeves of his shirt that he was wearing, “would you want to go out with me tonight? Get some dinner at a restaurant or something?”

This time the smile does reach your eyes, “I would love that Hoseok. Does six o’clock work for you?”

He grabs your hands and kisses your knuckles lightly. “Will do madam!” 

You chuckle at his gesture and help him buy another random thing. 

--

You had gotten off of work at 4 and headed home immediately. Your female Bengal cat, Tzipporah, weaved between your legs as soon as you stepped foot in your apartment. You quickly fed her and got in the shower as soon as you could, grabbing the ‘fancy’ clothes you wanted to wear tonight. Honestly, your money range of fancy is just an okay dress with some cheap, but sturdy, heels and some nice jewelry with light makeup. Hoseok texted you after you had put your makeup on asking for your address. You quickly sent him the address of the apartment building and your room number, heading into the kitchen to refill your cats water bowl. You had a good ten minutes before he arrived (because he said he would be there in ten minutes), so you wasted that time by reminiscing about old dates that had gone wrong. What a perfect way to spend that time, yeah?

A soft knock from your door pulled you from your thoughts and you opened the door to see Hoseok dressed to the nines in a tux and also light makeup. “Wow, you look handsome,” you breathed out.

He chuckled and winked at you, “Isn’t it the man’s job to comment about the lady first?” He held out his arm for you to grab onto and you complied after closing the door and locking it. 

“Sure, but only if you’re quick enough.” He laughs at your comment and you smile as he leads you to his car. It’s a rental car from a dealership in the city that’s forty minutes away. You know this because your siblings would always rent a car from there to drive to your place after flying halfway across the world to see you.

“M’lady,” Hoseok opened the passenger door for you, holding his arm out in front and bowing for you to enter.

You curtsy and slide into the vehicle, “Thank you, my kind sir.”

He smiles and hustles to the drivers side after closing your door, quickly climbing in. “Oh, before I forget, you look absolutely gorgeous tonight.” He gives you a quick wink as you both buckle in, causing you to blush in slight embarrassment.

“Thank you.”

The car ride was anything but silent as you and Hoseok either chatted about your interests or sang/rap along to the songs on the radio. You had even asked him if you could plug in your phone to play music and he agreed. Let’s just say he was rather surprised you could rap the entirety of Rap God by Eminem. 

He pulled up into the parking lot of a new Italian restaurant that opened up a few months ago that you really wanted to go to but could never afford.

“Ah, I love Italian!” You smile genuinely at him. You never realized it before, but Hoseok has made you smile more in the past few weeks you’ve known him than anyone or anything ever has in your entire lifespan of 23 years. Hoseok held out his arm again and you grabbed on as though it were a life preserver. He held the door of the restaurant open for you and you both entered the warm building. You both approached the podium where a waiter was.

“Reservation, name is Hoseok, table for two,” he smiles politely at the waiter. The waiter grins back and flips through the book quickly.

“Ah, yes, Hoseok! Right this way,” the waiter leads us past many tables to a table near the center of the room. It’s quite dark in the restaurant, only really illuminated by the candles on the tables and the lights coming from the kitchen. Hoseok pulls out your chair for you and you sit down. Hoseok sits down too and the waiter asks, “is there anything I can get you in this moment?”

“No, thank you!” you smile at the waiter. Hoseok replies the same thing and the waiter nods before moving off. 

“So, (Y/N), have you been here before?” Hoseok asks.

“Ah, no. I’m too poor to come here,” you chuckle slightly as you look through the menu. You had already decided you wanted the Fettuccine Alfredo, but you didn’t want to look like you were in a rush for this date to end. You waited a few seconds after Hoseok put down his menu to put yours down. “What are you getting?”

“I was planning on getting whatever you get, I can’t really decide what I want.” He sheepishly lowers his head.

You hold out your hand and he takes it. You rub his knuckles, a reverse in roles, and you smile at him. “Hoseok, how can you be so flawless but yet have so many flaws about you at the same time? It’s a mystery, really, how your imperfections make you impeccable.”

He blushes visibly at your words, smiling wider than he ever has at your words. “(Y/N), if every star in the sky was considered to be reasons on how freaking great you are, there wouldn’t be enough stars to list those reasons. I don’t know how to thank you enough to provide such great affection for me. It’s amazing how long you’ve stuck me out; most people get put off after they get to know my wild side.”

You laugh at the few memories of when Hoseok came into the store and made a ruckus, but no one was there anyway. Even if there was someone there, it wouldn’t make a difference in your opinion because Hoseok is the one you wanted- no, needed- and there was nothing about him that could put you off from him.

“Hoseok, if I had to write out how much you mean to me, then it would equal the length of the Harry Potter series, Lord of the Rings trilogy, Hunger Games series, Divergent series, Percy Jackson series, and the Warrior Cats series combined. Well, okay, maybe not that long? More like a Junie B. Jones book, but still. It’s the thought that counts, right?” You ask, tilting your head to the side.

If the warmth of the room could be compared to the warmth in Hoseok’s laugh, the room would be freezing, and that’s the way you always wanted it to be.

---

You both finished dinner in laughter and fondness, having grown closer to each other in quadruple the time span it took Hoseok to grow on his makeup and fashion stylists. He had paid for the dinner and led you out of the restaurant, driving you both to the desolate park that resided near your apartment complex. You had gotten out of the car when Hoseok encased your hand with his, weaving his fingers through yours. They fit perfectly. His firm grip on your hand was enough to stabilize you for the rest of your life.

You two strolled down the sidewalk of the park, the cement path leading you to a bridge that went over the small creek that ran through your town. The town itself was a desolate, barren land, but the scenery here was just too beautiful to disrupt. He squeezed your hand, rubbing the pad of his thumb over your knuckles this time. He gave you a reassuring smile as you both crossed the bridge and walked around the other side of the park.

You led him down the path to the creek’s edge after having finished walking around the other side. You took off your heels and stepped into the creek, the coldness of the water making goosebumps rise along your skin. Hoseok took off his suit jacket, slipped off his shoes and socks, rolled up his pant legs, and stepped into the creek too.

“Woah! This water is freezing!” he exclaimed. You tilt your head back and let your laughter ring through the air. You had mostly kept it to quiet chuckles or stifled laughs, but your real laugh seemed to fit in the moment. If anything, it made Hoseok want to hold you until the end of time itself. 

You turn towards him after wading deeper into the cold water. You’ve walked this creek up and down many times, the temperature barely affected you anymore. “Hoseok, you are one special man.”

He winks at you, “I could be your special man.”

You both laugh, but a small blush had crept onto your face. “Uh huh.”

After a minute of silence, Hoseok spoke up, “(Y/N), do you know who I am?”

“Um, Jung Hoseok?”

“Yeah, but, do you know my profession?”

You stood still in the water for a few seconds, realizing who didn’t  even know the most simple question. “Ah, no? What do you do Hoseok?”

He runs a hand through his hair, “I don’t know if you’ll believe me-”

“Hoseok, even if you said you were the devil itself I would believe you. It’s surprising, really, on how much I trust you already. I’d put my life in your hands if needed.”

He blushes and coughs, “Thanks, (Y/N). I’m J-Hope, one of the seven members of a famous KPOP group called Bangtan Sonyeondan, or most commonly known as BTS.”

You froze, the small waves crashing against your legs. You’ve heard of BTS, you’ve seen a BTS music video, your friend that moved away half a year ago was a BTS fan, so how come you couldn’t recognize him?

You face him and walk closer, now face to face with him. It was then that realization hit you. Cameras did Hoseok no justice for his actual beauty. If anything, the cameras toned it down; he was much more stunning in the physical presence than he was through a screen.

You reach a hand up and cup his face. “Hoseok,” you whisper and he looks at you in hesitance, “is this supposed to change something? I mean, I recognize you now. I’ve heard of BTS, saw a video, etc, but like, yo. Hoseok, my dude, cameras ain’t got shit on you in real life.”

He raises an eyebrow at you, “Where is this coming from?”

You smirk, “I feel like if we’re going to be spilling such drastic secrets than I should speak how I am, right? Hoseok, I couldn’t give a single fuck if you had to leave in this very moment to go on tour because I know you would come back eventually. Maybe it would be ten, twenty years or more, but you would come back eventually.”

He smiles down at you and cups your face in his warm hands. “There’s not a single doubt in my mind that I wouldn’t.”

“Hoseok, I got laid off today. My last day at the store is in two weeks, and after that I’m unemployed. That’s why I was upset.”

He presses his forehead against yours, looking deep into your eyes that it felt like he was touching your soul. “(Y/N), I’ve seen what you can do. Do you want a job that I can guarantee you?”

You rub your thumb along his cheekbone. “Ah, I don’t want to hassle you on such a thing. I can get a job at a store in the city.”

“No, (Y/N), you don’t get it. I don’t want to come back in ten or twenty years, I need you by me now. Do you want to become my permanent fashion stylist?”

You subconsciously started to tear up and Hoseok wiped his thumb along the bottom of your eyes with immense care. He looked at you in worry and you knew there that nothing in this world was going to stop you from being with this man for the rest of your life.

“Heck ya I do!”

He chuckled and leaned his head further into yours, pressing his lips onto your chapped ones. The kiss was slow, soft, and delicate, as if this was the beginning to a long story.

-Kim Namhoo

[butterflysuki77]

01. Must Have Energy - Kim NamJoon fanfic

AN*  So I ran across a “Bed Sharing AU” prompt list with 8 prompts and thought it’d be a great exercise to explore writing fanfics again, this time for BTS instead of anime. I just recently wrote “Grief” which is the first fanfiction I’ve written in 3 years… the first anything I’ve written in 3 years actually.  So don’t be too hard on me.  I intend this to be the first in a series, using all 8 prompts with different members.  8 prompts, 7 members... the 8th will be a surprise.

A special thanks to BTS… for giving me inspiration and re-igniting my passion to write again. (Gif credit to original owner.)

02. Kim SeokJin - Mama Mo’s

03. Min Yoongi - You’re Mine

04. Jung HoSeok - My Hope

05. Park Jimin - Awkwardly Perfect

06. Kim TaeHyung - The BPP

07. Jeon JungKook - Call Me Kookie

08. BTS - Hawaiian Thunderstorm

Must Have Energy

Prompt: The heater broke and I’m freezing get over here!

Pairing: Kim NamJoon x Reader

Genre: Fluff, oneshot (smut light)

Word Count: 4.1K

 “Come ooooon….” you whined into the phone.

“I seriously don’t know what you expect me to do!” NamJoon laughed on the other end.

“You’re a man!  Men fix things!  So fix it for me!” You knew you were being unreasonable, but the chill creeping into your bones was no joke.

“Well… I can’t argue with logic like that,” he laughed again. You rolled your eyes.

“Are you coming or not?”

“Let me see what I have and I’ll head over… I can’t promise anything though.”  You sighed in relief.

“Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you,” you shot out as fast as you can.  “Hopefully I won’t be a popsicle by the time you get here.”

“Hurry up… got it!” You could practically hear the smirk on his face. “See you in a few…”

“Minutes right? Not hours!?” you shot back.  He just laughed.

“Go put on a coat or something… the longer I’m on the phone, the longer it’ll take me to get there…”

“BYE!” you said a little too loudly, immediately hanging up.  Thank God for NamJoon.  You don’t know what you would do right now if he wasn’t an option.  Why did the heater have to go out now… in the middle of a frickin’ snowstorm!? You had no money to hire a professional, who would charge overtime because it was a weekend… and you had no clue how to fix anything!

At least with Joon there was a chance of success… a pretty high chance… well… 50-50 maybe.  You didn’t know him all that well, but you had hung out a few times… and when you were with a group, you managed to find each other and would go into your own little world sometimes.  He was sweet, and funny, and the dude was a genius.  He never tired of telling you about the latest books he’d read or the random information about some tree as you walked past one in the park.  But could you trust him not to burn the house down?

You shook your head. Who cares if he burned the house down!? Then you’d at least be warm again!  You had on a t-shirt under a sweater and leggings on under your jeans, fuzzy socks on your feet tucked into fuzzy slippers, and you were still starting to shiver.

You should have called him earlier!  You were just hoping against hope that the heater would fix itself this morning, and now that it was afternoon, you were desperate.  Instead of a coat, as NamJoon suggested, you grabbed the comforter off your bed and snuggled in to wait on the couch.  At least the power wasn’t out… you flipped on the TV hoping there was a show about the tropics or something that would mentally warm you while you waited.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

NamJoon parked his car on the sidewalk in front of your house and sighed.  He made it.  The roads were awful and getting worse by the second…making it take twice as long to get to you as he’d thought.  He still couldn’t believe you’d called him. Why him?  Not that he was complaining…. He just thought you’d have a line of guys eager to rescue you… not that he wasn’t one of them.  He grabbed his bag from the passenger seat, took a deep breath and stepped out into the wind and snow.  Making it quickly to your front door he rang the bell.  When the door opened, he laughed out loud.

“What!?” Apparently you didn’t notice how absolutely adorable you looked at this moment. Standing in front of him, purple floral comforter wrapped over your head, cinched at your neck with your hand, you looked like a puffy floral No-Face from Spirited Away.

“Get inside, quick!” you yelled, grabbing his arm and yanking him through the door.  “You’re letting all the heat out!”  He let you drag him and turned to shut the door behind him.  Then he turned back to you as you let the comforter slide from your head to your shoulders.

“Here,” he said, shrugging out of his coat.  He’d been wearing it, so it was still warm on the inside, and luckily the snow hadn’t made it too wet.  You walked over, dropping the comforter, and he took note of your shiver.  NamJoon quickly wrapped his coat over your shoulders, pulling the fur-lined hood up over your head.  You put your arms through the sleeves and sighed contentedly at the warmth.

“Thank you…” you chattered. Now that his coat was off, he could tell how cool it was in your house.  He could handle it though… for a while at least.  After slipping off his snow-caked boots he walked into your living room, taking note of the lights and tv.

“At least it’s not your electricity,” he said.  For a minute you both just kind of stood there awkwardly.  NamJoon still didn’t know why you had called him instead of the countless others who were into you.  Did you even know he was into you?  You seemed so confident and sure of yourself… but he couldn’t tell if you ignored or laughed off his flirting because you just wanted to spare his feelings or if you seriously didn’t know he was serious.  And now here he was, standing in your house… attempting to rescue you from the cold. God he hoped he could actually do something about it.

“It is cold in here,” he said to break the silence.

“Thanks for the observation, Captain Obvious!” you said, rolling your eyes.  “What are you going to do about it?”  He wanted to be annoyed with you, but NamJoon had to smile at the sight of you in his oversized green coat, arms folded.

“We’ll see…” he said, nervously.  “How cold is it in here?”

“I don’t know…” you said. “The stupid thermostat screen is black.”

“Thermostat screen?” he asked.  That was different.

“Yeah, my dad installed one of those touch screen thermostats when I first moved here.  He said it was the latest thing… I actually like it...”  NamJoon had an idea…

“Have you tried turning it off and on again?” he asked.

“What… like a computer?” you answered… then he saw it dawn on your face.  “Cuz yeah… it IS a computer… Damn it!”  He laughed.

“Show me where it is…” He followed you down the hall and stopped in front of the small, white, square box on the wall.  After examining it for a minute, he reached into his bag for one of the screwdrivers he brought.

“You’re not gonna break it, are you?” you asked nervously.  

“I’ll be gentle…” he teased, turning to wink at you.  The way your eyes widened made him chuckle.  But seriously… he hoped he wouldn’t break it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After multiple tries, online searches, and a joint effort… you finally got the thing off the wall.

“Now what?” you asked… holding the box in your hand…

“Let me check,” he said, going back to the search on his phone.  You had to admit, youtube tutorials were wonderful things.  “Here…” he reached for the box and you handed it to him.  He tinkered with it, then smiled.  “Done.”

“Done!?” you asked. “What did you do!?”

“The button… here at the back,” he leaned in to show you.  He was so close, he felt like he was in the hood of the coat with you. You swallowed, nervously, completely missing what he was showing you.  “Now to put it back!”

It was way easier getting the thing back onto the wall than it was taking it off… but once it clicked back on... the screen started loading, and you could have cried in relief.

“Thank you thank you thank you!” you said, wrapping your arms around him from the side and jumping up and down.  NamJoon’s arm came around your shoulders and he laughed.

“No problem…  Let’s just see if this fixes it.”  As the main screen loaded, the temperature popped on screen. 12.7 degrees C.

“Why does it feel so much colder!?” you exclaimed.  NamJoon just laughed.  A second later you heard the tell-tale whirring of the heater kicking on.  You squealed in excitement and threw yourself at NamJoon, arms wrapping around his neck.  He stumbled backwards a bit, but caught you tightly against him, holding you slightly off the ground.

You froze.  Your head was over his shoulder and you couldn’t see his face because of the stupid hood, but the feel of his arms tightly wrapped around you left you breathless.  Slowly, he set you back on the ground…but his arms didn’t immediately leave your waist. You looked up at him, your eyes locking with his and he smiled down at you.

“I should come to your rescue more often…” he said in a low soft voice that had you shivering for reasons other than the cold.  Suddenly his hand came up and ruffled the top of your hood, breaking the moment. “Look,” he pointed to the thermostat screen. “Already up to 13.”

“Big Whoop,” you said, starting to take the jacket off.  Suddenly it felt too warm. Searching for something to say, you asked, “What’s that in Fahrenheit?”  He took the jack from you and tilted his head thinking.

“55 degrees? Roughly…” Had he seriously just calculated that in his head?  He put the screwdriver back in his bag, then picked it up.  “Well… you’ll be warm again soon.”  He turned and you followed him back down the hall to the living room. You both stood there, looking at the front door for a long moment and it hit you… You didn’t want him to leave. You liked his company!  And…  A shiver hit you as the cold started to seep in again.  Your hand came up to rub your arm, getting some warmth back.  NamJoon set his bag and coat down and moved closer.

“It’s still cold in here,” he said, picking up your comforter from where you dropped it earlier. He wrapped it around your shoulders, letting his hands cover your upper arms and rubbed.  “Better?”

*grrrrr*

Your eyes widened in embarrassment and he smirked.  You realized it was almost 7pm and you hadn’t eaten since breakfast.  You’d been too cold to eat.

“It’s late… go eat,” he said smiling.  One of his hands reached up to caress your hair in a painfully sweet gesture.  As he leaned down to pick up his bag you couldn’t stop yourself.

“Stay!” you blurted out. He froze, looking up at you in mid bend. “Stay for dinner…” you amended quickly. The ideas were coming quickly now. “I mean… I at least owe you dinner… for coming to my rescue.”  He stood back up.

“You really don’t have to,” he said smiling.  His eyes seemed to sparkle. “I’m just glad I could help.”  You thought fast.

“There’s a pizza place nearby that SWEARS they deliver no matter what,” you said.  “That way you won’t have to suffer my cooking.”

“Well, with an invitation like that,” he laughed.  You smiled.

“I’ll call.  Basic pepperoni good?”  You went to the coffee table to grab your phone and dialed the number. You had pizza waaaaay too often.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Pepperoni’s the best,” NamJoon answered, following you and sitting down on the couch after you gestured for him to do so.  It was an L-shaped sectional, and he put his legs up, arms behind his head as he watched you pace back and forth in front of the TV as you ordered.

“45 minutes to an hour!?” you whined.  “But you’re just down the street!”  He smiled. You looked like you were some sort of royalty in a giant purple floral cloak. “Fine… I know.”  You glanced quickly at him, then turned away, “Yes… same card.  Same order. Please hurry though? Please!? Thanks.”  You hung up and came to stand in front of him.  He just looked back at you smiling.  You were so cute.

“You get pizza that often, huh?” he smiled.  He liked “flustered” you…

“I can’t stand my own cooking… and it’s so easy… I should probably cut back though.”  Your eyes raked up and down his body and NamJoon felt heat shoot down his spine. “Aren’t you cold?” you asked, almost annoyed. NamJoon looked down at what he was wearing… oversized striped sweater…jeans…socks.  Sure he was cold, but he didn’t mind the cold.

“I’m fine,” he said. “I guess I’m just warm-blooded.” He smiled up at you, as you pinched your face in thought.

“Thank God…” you said finally, moving towards him. “I’m freezing and you can help.”  NamJoon’s eyes widened as you climbed onto the couch between his legs, forcing him to sit up more.  You turned, your back to his chest, and pulled the comforter over both of you.  His knees were bent slightly, pressed against your thighs, and he wasn’t quite sure what to do with his arms.  You sighed and laid your head back against his shoulder.

That’s when his arms moved of their own accord and wrapped around you, comfortably encasing your arms. You were colder than him… even having had the jacket and comforter on. He could feel you shivering and squeezed slightly.

“This better?” he asked against your ear.

“Mhmm…” you hummed. “Toasty.”  He laughed and leaned his head back against the couch cushion. When he’d woken up this morning, he never in a million years would have guessed he’d be snuggled here with you on your couch.  Had he saved the country in a past life or something?

After about 20 minutes of comfortable silence, mixed with random small talk and House Hunters International, NamJoon finally had the courage to ask.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah,” you responded softly.

“Why did you call me?”  He wasn’t going to ask… but his curiosity had gotten the better of him.  You were quiet for a minute, thinking.  “I mean,” he continued nervously, “I’m sure just about any other guy you know would have jumped at the chance to come help you… and I’m not complaining… I just-”

“You were the first person that came to mind…” you said interrupting him.  “You were the only person… the best person…  I knew that no matter what happened, I could count on you.” NamJoon held his breath.  You were about to say something else… he could tell you were debating on whether or not to say it.  “You were the only person that I trusted… that I wanted to come…”

The biggest grin spread across NamJoon’s face and he tightened his arms around you, pulling you tightly against his chest.  “I’m glad you called me,” he said softly against your ear.  He heard your breath hitch and couldn’t help himself.  His lips closed over the top of your ear, softly nibbling… At your sweet little whimper, he let his teeth graze the edge of your ear before gliding his tongue back up and pulling it back into his mouth, softly sucking.  He felt your body relax back into his and he leaned down to your earlobe.  A slight tug with his teeth caused you to gasp and his thighs tightened around your hips.  Your hands had moved to rest on his knees and his arms caressed yours, one hand sliding down slowly to capture yours.

His other hand left the comforter and gathered your hair to the other side, letting his fingertips caress your neck as he turned your head so he could taste your other ear. Another soft sigh escaped you, and he felt your back arch slightly as you tried to give him easier access.  You were so sensitive, and he felt his blood boiling.  When you arched your back even more, he let his lips trail wet kisses onto your neck. Your breathing sped up and he grinned wickedly as he let his teeth sink slowly but firmly into that sensitive spot between neck and shoulder.  You gasped and squirmed in front of him, your fingers lacing with his one hand as your other hand slid up his thigh.

“NamJoon...” you breathed, and he soothed the bite with is tongue before sucking the spot gently. You whined and he felt your legs squirm again.  He’d dreamt of leaving a mark on you in this spot… as well as others… and your reaction was everything he’d wanted it to be.  When he felt your nails dig into his thigh though, he lost it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You heard a growl at your neck… your only warning before NamJoon’s hand dug into your hair and tightened, pulling your head back and to the side.  Your gasp only served to open your mouth for his as he kissed you deeply. You moaned and turned your body to face him, kneeling between his legs.  Your hands rested on his shoulders as he used the hand in your hair to control the kiss.  Your entire spine tingled as his other hand fisted in the material of your sweater.

He pulled you back by your hair, exposing your neck again as he lowered his head.  His hand left your back to reach up and tug your sweater and shirt down, exposing more of your shoulder and collarbone.  You were breathing heavily and the feel of his mouth on your neck was like heaven.  You didn’t know where this side of him was coming from!  He’d always been so nice and sweet… playful of course��  He had flirted with you a lot, but you never took him seriously.  How could someone like him be interested in you?  He was so smart, so funny, so… so… You moaned in pleasurable pain as he bit down into your shoulder.  Your hand fisted into his hair and dragged his mouth back to yours.

Your kiss was deep, passionate and full of need.  NamJoon let go of your hair and reached down to lift your sweater off but leaving your t-shirt.  You parted only for a moment, and before you knew it he was laying you backwards on the couch, head towards the still blaring television… not that you even noticed the TV. He looked down at you, eyes dark but sparkling. He smiled, showing his dimples, and you smiled back. You shifted so one of his legs was between yours and placed a hand on his neck.  This time, your kiss was tender, slowly building. He ground his hips slowly against your thigh and moaned against your lips. He lowered his body, pressing into yours.

You hooked a leg over his hip and his hand grabbed your thigh, slowly sliding up to your waist, slipping under your t-shirt and sliding up to your bare breast. You both moaned at the same time and he lifted his head, breaking your kiss to watch your face as he massaged you. He moved so both his legs were between yours and rocked his hips against your center.  You gasped in pleasure and lifted your hips to meet his next grind.  The friction was driving you crazy.

You grabbed his sweater, lifting and pulling until it was off. He was bare above you, golden skin with a slight sheen of sweat... he was lean and muscular and you licked your lips and you sat up to place an open mouthed kiss just under his collarbone. He groaned and cupped the back of your head, letting you move up to his neck where you gave him back the bite he'd given you earlier. He hissed and his hand fisted in your hair, pulling you back to his mouth.

"You're gonna pay for that, baby..." he growled with a smile against your lips.

“Promise?” you breathed in reply, pulling his lower lip between your teeth.  His mouth crushed yours as both hands went under your shirt, lifting it off.  He crushed you to him, the feeling of skin on skin contact easing the ache that had started in the pit of your stomach.  He caressed your bare back before gently laying you back down again.  You watch has his mouth opened at the top of your breast, teeth bared and ready to graze… your eyes closed in anticipation.

*DingDong*

Your eyes met, full of shock and horror, as you tried to register who could possibly be at the door…

“Shit!” you exclaimed, scrambling out from under him and practically falling off the couch.  Your breath was coming fast, and your body was screaming in frustration.  Finding his sweater before your own, you threw it on…inside out of course… and hurried to the door.

“Here’s your pizza,” said an annoyed and incredibly cold delivery guy.

“Thank you,” you said sharply, also annoyed.  You moved to shut the door after taking the box.

“And your Pepsi…” he said again, blocking the door from shutting and handing you a 2Liter bottle.

“Thank you,” you said again, even more shortly.  You started to shut the door.

“Sign here please,” he said blocking the door from shutting AGAIN and handing you a receipt and a pen. A shirtless NamJoon was behind you to take the pizza box and soda so you could sign. The delivery guy was either completely unsurprised by the spectacle you two made, or he was a very good actor. You signed, shoved the receipt and pen back at him.

“Thanks.  Goodbye!” you said, shutting the door.  You tried to take deep breaths, but your whole body was too worked up.  You stood there, facing the closed door, trying to register the last 20 minutes…

Then you felt his arms wrap around you, embracing you from behind.  He placed a gentle kiss on your neck.

“Hungry?” he asked, leaning his head on yours.

“Starving…” you said turning to face him.  Your arms went around his neck and you kissed him deeply.  He laughed into your kiss before setting you back from him.

“Let’s eat…” he gestured to the pizza.

“But…” Before you could make your argument your stomach growled.  You glared up into NamJoon’s smug face.

“Eat up…” he said, leading you back over to the couch.  You sat down with a pout on your face as he sat next to you and opened the box, revealing a steaming hot cheese and pepperoni pizza.  Your mouth started watering.  You could barely think.  So much was going through your head.  You had thought you had good chemistry whenever you’d hung out before, but this was off the charts.  And now he wanted to stop?  To eat pizza? Sure, you were hungry… but come on… you were hungry….

“Joon…” you said softly… “I… well…”

“Eat,” he ordered, handing you a slice.  The smirk on his face eased some of your tension and you took a bite.  His eyes met yours and darkened with intention. “You’re gonna need every bite you can get to keep your energy up…” He licked his lips before taking a bite of his own slice.  You stopped chewing and smiled.

“You’re a big talker…” you said with a smirk.

“That’s not the only thing big about me…” he winked and took another bite.  Your mouth went dry and your stomach flipped…  “You’re gonna need at least three slices…” he estimated, eyes not leaving you.  You took three bites in a row before leaning back against the couch.  NamJoon laughed and moved closer to you.  He was still so warm, even without his shirt on, and you couldn’t help but lean against him. He shifted the pizza to his other hand and wrapped an arm around your shoulders.  You were quiet for a while…

“Looks like a blizzard out there…” you said seriously, grabbing your second slice from the box.

“Sure does…” he said taking your lead… “The roads must be dangerous.”

“Very dangerous…” you took another bite.  “I couldn’t send you home in that.”

“Of course not…” NamJoon reached for his third slice.

“Not after you rescued me and everything…” you took two more bites.

“It’s the least you could do…” he said against your ear.  He nibbled at your earlobe.

“Hey…” you chided… “That’s NOT pizza!”  NamJoon almost doubled over with laughter, and you giggled at yourself.

“You’re amazing… you know that?” he said smiling at you.  His dimples were the best things ever… you kind of wanted to lick them… He noticed the change in your eyes and his own darkened.

“Keep eating…” he tore a bite out of his pizza slice.

You swallowed and took a deep breath.  NamJoon was right… you were gonna need all the energy you could for the night ahead.

You smiled and grabbed your last slice.

“Whatever you say…”

“Promise?” he asked with an eyebrow raised.

You bit back a moan and took the biggest bite you could possibly take.

Must. Have. Energy… you thought… You took one final bite, ignoring the crust.

And energy… you had.

 The end.

*Any comments welcome and appreciated!  Thanks!*

[themusicplayedherlife]

Take a Chance (Part 3)

pairings: Reader x Steve Rogers characters: Reader, Natasha Romanoff, Wanda Maximoff, Sam Wilson, Amora (Enchantress), Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes (mention) word count: 1,656 warnings: vomit, cussing, pregnancy talks a/n: steve is a cutie  summary: AU! After a one night stand at a friend’s wedding, you gain something that could possibly change your life and views on life for the better or worse.

Prev||All Parts||Next

You’re sitting on your bed, the three of you forming a circle as Wanda calls Amora on speaker and Natasha searches through Sam’s friend list on Facebook. You’re the only one not doing anything and it’s killing you to just wait! Why couldn’t you have been the one searching Sam’s facebook? You understand why you’re not the one speaking to Amora, but searching Sam’s facebook? You could totally do that!

“What do you want?” is how Amora greets Wanda when she answers the phone call. “I’m trying to enjoy the warm Hawaiian sun and you’re interrupting.”

Natasha rolls her eyes as she continues searching for the mysterious blonde, and you groan, not sure why her personality still surprises either of you at times.

“Honeymoon treating you well?” Wanda starts small talk, knowing that the only way to get Amora to do something for you is to play her ego. This is why you couldn’t speak to Amora, you’d skip all of that and head straight to the asking-for-a-favor and in return, you’d get a nosy Amora that won’t give you shit.

“Of course it is. I only choose the best places to grace my presence with.”

Natasha, not wanting to hear any more gloating from Amora snaps her fingers in front of Wanda’s face who swats them away.

“I envy you! I wish I could go to Hawaii.”

“Everyone does, darling. Now, what do you want? I know you didn’t just call me to ask about how my honeymoon is going.”

“You got me. I was actually wondering if you could identify someone we met at the wedding,” as she says this, you quickly send the picture of Sam and the two strangers to Amora through Natasha’s phone. “(Y/N) just sent you a picture. Do you know who they are? Specifically the blonde?”

There’s rustling on the other side of the phone and you hear her hum appreciatively. “They’re hot. Really hot. But no, I don’t know–wait, I think I do. I think they’re friends of Sam.”

“Do you think you could ask him for me?” Wanda asks.

Amora sighs, “Fine. Give me a moment.” You hear her moving around some, and then hear her call out to Sam, telling him to stop swimming around so she could show him a picture. “Do you know who they are?”

“Seriously Amora? That’s Steve and Bucky! My best-friends? The men that were supposed to be my groomsmen. Remember? You have meet them a thousand times!”

“Oh, relax! I’m bad with names, you know that,” she tells him before speaking to Wanda, “did you hear that?”

“I did, but which one is the blonde one?”

“Why do you want to know who he is so badly? Did he do something? Or are you trying to sleep with him, because I totally would, I mean, look at that body.”

“Amora!” Sam shouts, making Amora laugh gleefully.

Wanda sighs just as Natasha jerks to sit straight, scaring you. “Found him! Steve Rogers! His name is Steve Rogers!”

You scramble over Wanda’s lap to pluck the laptop out of Natasha’s hands, settling it down on your own when you sit back on your ass.

“What the hell? I was still using that!”

Ignoring Natasha, you look through his profile, his Facebook picture a selfie of himself wearing glasses and a blue cap; his page private and barely giving you any information about himself except for his name and a few picture that he was tagged in. Groaning, you shove the laptop off of your lap and Natasha picks it up and places it back on her lap, grumbling about your manners. You turn to Wanda, “Let me talk to Sam.”

“Hey, (Y/N) wants to ask Sam something. I’ll pass you to her.”

“Alright, shoot.”

“Hey, Sam, sorry, but do you think there’s any way you could ask Steve to meet with me? There’s something private I need to discuss with him…”

He pauses, probably contemplating his options before agreeing.“Yeah, I think I could manage that. When do you want to meet with him?”

“Whenever he’s free, and if possible, sometime this week.”

“Yeah, I can text him later today and set up something for you.”

“Thanks, Sam. I owe you.”

“Nah, it’s not a problem, don’t worry about it.”

“Now,” Amora starts, “if we’re done here. I’d rather like getting back to my honeymoon. And I am expecting to hear the details about what is happening when I get back. Kisses.”

“Hi, sorry? I, um, have an appointment with Steve Rogers.” Your lack of confidence when you enter the tall, pristine, and intimidating building unfazes the receptionist. He only asks for your name and searches for it in the database, handing you a visitor’s badge when he finds it.

You thank him after he gives you the directions to Steve’s office and head towards the elevators.

Sam had texted you last night, right before a pep talk from the girls. He managed to get Steve to meet you in his office, saying it is the most private place to talk. You doubt it is, but it’s not like you’re in any position to object. You don’t know the guy, and he doesn’t know you, meeting in his office was probably the most convenient place for him. 

You exit the elevator and head straight for Steve’s office, ignoring the sudden feeling of nauseousness welling up in your tummy. You fucking hate morning sickness.

“Come in,” Steve calls out from the other side of the room after you knock.

With a deep breath, you slowly twist the doorknob and enter the office. It’s clean and well put together, using only the essentials an office needed and it’s… awful. Where the hell are the plants and hard to understand paintings? Pictures? Anything to actually make this place look like a human being works here? This guy is going to be the father of your baby? What the actual fuck?

“Hi, (Y/N), right?”

The disdain you feel for the lack of color in his office clearly shows when you turn to look at him; your eyebrows are furrowed and your lips are set in a parted frown. Probably not the best way to react when meeting someone officially for the first time, especially someone that is going to be the father of your child.

He winces, probably wondering why in the hell you’re looking at him the way that you are. He clears his throat, “Sam said you wanted to speak with me? And that it was urgent?”

That seems to distract you from his lack of decorum and you nod. “Do you mind if I sit?”

“No, no, go ahead.” He moves to pull out your chair and it is the most awkward thing he could have possibly done. By the time he is rounding his desk, you have already pulled out your chair and are about to sit on it. He stands there looking like a lost puppy before returning to his chair.

“I think I’m just going to get straight to the point,” you say, wrapping your arms around your purse, trying to focus on the back of his computer. Aaand your lack of confidence is back. Great. “Okay, maybe not straight to the point, but, uh, do you remember anything from the wedding?”

You hear a squeak come from his chair, and you finally look at him, actually look at him. He’s wearing a white button up with a black tie, his jacket shrugged off somewhere. It’s completely lacking and, wow, does he have bad taste. But those muscles. Damn. He looks good with or without a shirt. No wonder you slept with him that night.

“I, uh,” his stammering has your eyes drifting from his clothed chest to his face. He resembles a puppy you’ve just reprimanded for peeing on your sister’s favorite rug. Why your sister’s? Because you don’t own a rug, your sister, however, owns twenty. “I’m sorry.”

His apology surprises you. You weren’t expecting an apology, that’s for sure. “For?”

“For leaving that morning. I just, I, uh, panicked and I’ve never done that before and I needed to find Bucky and get his advice–” advice, you snort, “but by the time I went back, you were gone and–”

You have to interrupt him, he’s speaking too fast and you can barely understand anything he’s saying, but you make out the important bits and that’s enough. “It’s fine. It was a one-night thing, we were probably never going to see each other again after that anyway.”

He purses his lips, no longer resembling a puppy. “Is that what you think?”

“Yeah.”

“Our friends are married now and you didn’t think we’d see each other again?”

You can feel your nausea getting worse and you have to clench your eyes to stop yourself from focusing on it. “Look, I’m not here to yell at you for bumping uglies with me that night.” Because heaven knows you probably initiated it. “It happens when you have too much to drink.” Or when you don’t. It’s hook-up culture.

“Are you okay? Do you need water?” His chair squeaks and you can only imagine he stood up to help.

“I’m fine,” you raise a finger to stop him from talking, and moving or whatever else he is doing. He doesn’t even know you’re pregnant with his child yet and he already has the mother hen persona down. “I’m here because of the aftermath–actually, do you think I can have that cup of water.”

“Of course.” He moves quickly, his feet shuffling on the floor as he walks over to the pitcher of water he has.

No que muy cabrona?

He places the cup in your hand and you finally open your eyes, not wanting to accidentally miss your mouth. You wait until he’s sitting back down and you have taken a sip before opening your mouth and giving him the scare of his life, “Thank you. Now, as I was saying, I’m pregnant.”

Spanish translation: No que muy cabrona? is almost like: weren’t you just acting like a tough bitch? or something. It’s really just making fun of the fact that you denied the glass of water ‘cause you were “fine” when you really weren’t, you were just trying to act tough.

Tag List for Story (if you wanna be added/removed, send me an ask!): @anyakinamidala  @etherealxslytherin  

Permanent Tag List (if you wanna be added/removed, send me an ask!): @katie27hp

[jasoncontemp]

Cape Town Art Fair Questionnaire

1.  

The Goodman Booth was very different to the Gallery space. In the gallery space the work is all spaced out and all work similar in visual aesthetic with some walls painted black. While in the booth all the work differs in medium and are placed very close together. In the booth I recognized work by Yinka Shonibare and Kendell Geers.

 Blank Projects gallery space is very spatious with work of a minimal aesthetic and focus on metals. In the Blank Booth there is a range of materials which are all crowded into the space. The only correlation between the two spaces would be the white walls and each space having a metal work/s. I recognized work by Igshaan Adams and Gallerist Tyra Naidoo.

 The two Stevenson Gallery/booth spaces were very similar in visual aesthetic. Both spaces focused on large wall work. Both spaces have sculptural elements to them. However the wall colour of Stevenson Gallery differs to that of the white booth at the art fair. I recognized work by Kemang Wa Lehulere.

 2. I ENJOYED:

Stephen Allwright

‘Fluid’

Ink, graphite, crayon, pencil and water colour on paper

2018

Initially I was drawn to this work purely for the sunflowers. However when further admiring the piece I started to love it more. I love the muted tones of the yellow paired with the dull pink of the man’s underwear. I really enjoy the way in which the character is drawn, his form is almost organic, and matching the shape of the chair he is lounging on. I am also very attracted to the repetition of texture in sunflowers, facial and arm hair, creating depth and shadow.

 Chris Soal

‘Kids see ghosts sometimes’

Toothpicks in polyurethane on industrial fabric

2018

This piece sparks a great amount of my interest. It pretends to be something it is not, which I am somewhat drawn to. From far this hanging piece seems to be a soft flowing fabric draped onto the wall to the floor. However when approaching the work it is evident it is actually quite the hazardous piece. Thousands of toothpicks stick out at the viewer, causing some discomfort to some. I really enjoy the texture created by the toothpicks and how it creates a movement.

Carolyn Parton

‘Notes on the wind’

Reconstituted paint strata

2018

What I enjoy most about this work by Carolyn Parton is the use of materials and colour palette. The piece has a great sense of movement due to all of the intertwining and swirling of the materials. I also enjoy the sculptural aspect of the work.

 I DID NOT ENJOY:

Ndikhumbule Ngqinambi

‘The masters unexplored library’

oil on canvas

2019

I do not enjoy the amount of greyness within this painted artwork. I believe that if one is going to resort back to being traditional and working with Oil on canvas, there should be something done different. However I find this piece to be very mundane and no different to any oil painting I have seen.

 David Koloane

‘Untitled (assemblage II)’

mixed media on canvas

1990s

In this artwork I di not like the materials used. I also question why it ha to be done on a canvas and not taken off the canvas and become some sort of sculptural work. The colours are also all very similar, blurring together becoming somewhat muddy.

 LR Vandy

‘Crimson and Black’

Hull

2019

I enjoy work that contains some type of textural aspect, however I do not feel like this artwork is complete. I do not enjoy the shapes created and find it to be oddly shaped.

 3. Many of the works are done in acrylic/oil paint. However there is a dominating presence of mixed media/ materiality based work in the fair. Many works use a minimum of two different mediums and are combined to create one piece, example; some work has fabric mixed with painting and sewing. There is also a great deal of works that use found objects. However, the one dominating medium used either primarily or secondarily is paint.

 4. The booths this year did not differ too greatly when referring to different colours, only when it was solo exhibits was it any different. The works are curated different in each booth, changing wall colours and spacing of work. Many booths keep their furniture simple with just a table and chair, while one or two booths had an exotic couch and furniture for the curators to lounge on. Some booths have many small works climbing and covering th wall, while some galleries chose to put one or two small works on a wall or one larger one.

 5. The labels were almost different for every booth. Here are the ways I noticed labelling:

·         Standard double sided tape labels onto the wall

·         Writing directly onto the wall and underlining it

·         Using stickers that are transparent

·         Written on paper placed into the floor

·         Instagram name instead of artist name

·         Labels not directly next to artworks but scattered around the booth

  6. The fair is organized to be a great never ending maze. However the booths are positioned in a way that transitioning booth to booth feels natural/ organic. There two or three ‘main’ walkways that lead directly to the back of the building, however due to open gallery booths everything simply bleeds together. Around every corner is art and even more art. The booths are structured in a way that if you walk around multiple times you could see something different every time; almost as if it’s a treasure hunt for art and sanity.

 7. The lighting this art fair was not done very well. Many of the works had glares and those that didn’t have glass were lucky. The light is however mainly focused in the booths, not so much the pathways. I felt the lighting felt more natural this year. There was no specific lights pointing out and at specific work. There was no one work that demanded more attention than the one next to it.

 8. As predicted a good amount of the people walking around were men in suits with their high-heeled wives on their arm. However there was a lot of differently dressed people. Many people were dressed fluidly, disregarding gender. Also many of the people seemed younger and on trend. There was no person who was standing out due to their fashion choice… Besides the man who wore a blue Hawaiian shirt which matched his blue crocs... Iconic.

 9. There’s a definite target market for people of many industries and tourists, but predominantly to those interested in Contemporary art. This is shown through the multiple stands found to the left and back of the convention Centre. There is fresh meals and wine available, promoting a target at so called ‘foodies’. It also attracts the market of book collectors. Many books are sold, example; Art Times, and someone who is interested in collecting these books can do so here. There is also some clothing attracting people wanting to have trendy/ limited edition printed clothing.

 10.

Paola PIVI

Untitled (Leopard)

Photographic print, dibond, frame

I believe this to be a spectacle of wealth. Many wealthy Northern-Africans flaunt their purchased leopards and other wild animals while in the desert. However this also heavily links to a picture of American rapper, Tyga, who posted an Instagram image of himself posing with a pile of money and a leopard while on a jet. Rapper, Carbi B also flexes a leopard in her music video for her break out song ‘Bodak yellow’. Therefore I think the leopard has been commodified t a symbol of wealth.

 11.

Ande Stead

‘Life’

Hand forged stainless steel on granite base

To me this does not fit in the art fair. I think the theme dealt with could have been approached very differently and the specific way he approached it is overdone. I also feel like if the artist wanted to do something that has been done a multitude of times, they should consider size, placement, and other possible conceptual titles for the piece.

 12. Being second year I found more confidence to ask curators and gallerist’s questions. I spoke to many of the curators however the response differed with each. Some were more accommodating to my questions and curiosities, while one or two denied telling me prices.

 13. I did not notice any major branding besides Investec, but that could have just been my poor eyesight. This targets anyone who does banking and targets a wide range of people. This could be a sponsor because they may want to show that the Bank is interested in many industries, including Contemporary art, showing inclusivity in their brand. The fair would be a good place to target masses of people, both foreign and local.

 14. The convention center is a good place to hold this massive events as many other events occur in this space too, such as; seminars, design indabas and other large scale conventions.  The space is large and can accommodate large amounts of people. It is also very close to the city center and many other tourist attractions.

 15.

Albert Newall

‘Untitled’

Watercolour and ink on Paper

1952

 16. Smith Gallery was showing a large amount of Michaelis Graduate student works. One of the graduates showing, who was gaining a lot of attention, is Talia Ramkilawan.

 17. The Solo Booths are much stronger conceptualized booths than those of shared booths. The booth will be a coherent space. The curation of the booth will emphasize the work creating a distinct aesthetic and visual for the solo artist.

 18. One of the big names of the art fair was Georgina Gratrix. Her work has a very strong aesthetic and a specific process of creating which is visible. Many work seen in the art fair has similar motifs which Gratrix uses, showing she has influence in the market.

 Although she only had one work up, I heard may people mumbling over an artwork by Marina Abramovic. The level of art she creates and her status level within the industry always brings even more attention to her artworks.

 19. There were many works that resembled map-like visuals. Along with this many works dealt with themes of memory and capturing time. However it’s impossible to neglect the fact that majority of the work dealt with identity and the ‘self’.

 20. As a young artist right now I would love to be represented by Smith Gallery. It seems to be a good and open minded gallery space, as it exhibits many graduates at the art fair. However I would love to be represented by Smac Gallery. The Smac both had a wide range of mediums and subject matters, showing they are diverse and possibly always looking for new talent.

 21. I would also love to work for Smith. I would love the opportunity to work with young artists in the industry. If I worked for them I would want to be involved in every aspect of the Gallery.

 22. Curious as to why so many booths had their storage space open for the public to view.

 23. Yes. The space would have minimal emphasis on the furniture, and more emphasis on curation. I would want very similar works to be shown (possibly even a solo show) and have the whole booth transformed by changing the colours and lights. The space should be organic and one simple path to follow, nothing hidden behind walls.

[kadobeclothing]

The Best-Dressed Men In The World 2019

You couldn’t call it a boring year for menswear, could you? Looking back, it’s arguably been one of the most diverse, colourful and expressive spells we’ve had in a long time. Clothes became fun again. Menswear trends were chaotic and contradictory. People let go. Men got confident. Slim-fit minimalism found itself edged out.This was the year when 23-year-old Timothée Chalamet and 66-year-old Pierce Brosnan could both become style icons. The ’90s were trending, but so were the ’70s, ’50s and ’80s. Tailoring loosened up, sustainability got serious, and there were no shortage of brands cross-pollinating.What it all means for the average guy is this: options. More of them than we’ve had in a long, long time. This might just be the most exciting time men’s fashion has known, maybe ever. And in a year when all bets were off, these 25 men were there to show us how it’s done – leading trends, breaking rules or keeping it classic, their message was the same: wear whatever the hell you want, and do it with a smile on your face.25. Troye SivanYou can’t go anywhere at the moment without hearing Troye Sivan’s name echoing off the wall. Not surprising really, it’s been a big year for the South African–born Aussie lad who found himself thrust further into the spotlight thanks to a role opposite Nicole Kidman and Russell Crowe and a Golden Globe nomination for Boy Erased.The endless photocalls have given him a chance to show us all what he’s made of in the style department, and we like what we see. That being an expert blend of structured tailoring and floaty statement shirts, plenty of colour and just a dash of gender-bending make-up. 24. Tyler The CreatorWhile his style is pretty out-there, Tyler the Creator actually toned things down in 2019. He’s gone big on knitwear, with cardigans and sleeveless sweaters featuring heavily. There was of course his pastel-laden collaboration with Lacoste, one of the highlights being the pink mohair-style cardigan which he wore to the French Open. It was a big year on the whole though for the Cali native – his 2019 album Igor saw him tour the world, with his alter-ego character breaking out innumerable brightly coloured suits, and that blonde wig.Take away the wig though, and those suits work surprisingly well. Simply styled, most often with white Dr Martens on the feet, it’s just another example of tailoring’s big comeback. Elsewhere, Tyler continued his take on preppy casual – often dressing like something between Carlton from Fresh Prince and a skatewear Arnold Palmer, and it works. Tyler has always subverted notions of what you expect a rapper to dress like, and that’s why he’s cool. 23. Odell Beckham JrAmerican sports and menswear haven’t always co-existed seamlessly. Google ‘NBA Draft 2003’ and witness some of the worst tailoring you’ll ever see. Lebron James, one of the game’s most stylish players today, is dressed as an inflated marshmallow. Odell Beckham Jr was only 11 years old at this time though, and his generation grew up in an altogether different fashion landscape.By the time the NFL wide receiver was himself drafted in 2014, fashion was already at the forefront of American athlete’s minds. He wore a slim-fit, windowpane suit with a bow tie, pocket square and attention-grabbing diamond watch. Today, things have moved on again and Beckham Jr is one of the league’s more fashion-forward players.Streetwear-focussed and heavily branded, he even wore a Louis Vuitton x Supreme orthopaedic boot for his injured ankle. He’s also one of the better groomed men in the locker room and, along with James Harden, boasts one of the best beards in North American sports. 22. Mahershala AliWhen Mahershala Ali won his second Oscar at the 2019 awards ceremony, he accepted the gong wearing what is best described as a formal beanie. The fact that he looked elegant and not ridiculous as he did so will tell you plenty about how well this man can dress.In a year when he also headlined True Detective and landed the role of Blade in the MCU, his style has been all about quiet swagger. He looks as sharp in double denim as he does in red-carpet tailoring, but it’s the latter that got us rubbernecking this year. With micron-accurate cuts, interesting colours and offbeat accessories, he proved that the suit is still a long way from dead. 21. Zac EfronZac Efron’s hair had almost as big a year as the man himself. Rocking a shocking white bleach at the start of the year (and somehow pulling it off), Efron had our attention long before his role as serial killer Ted Bundy got everyone talking.When you’re this annoyingly good-looking, you can afford to take risks with your style, but what we like about the way Efron dresses is that it’s not at all try-hard. He leans on classics like denim jackets, shearling coats and slim-fit two-pieces. There’s a lot of experimentation in menswear right now, and that’s great, but here’s a reminder that for a lot of guys, the old ones are still the best. 20. Henry GoldingWhereas last year saw Henry Golding pique our interest for the first time, this year was Golding’s opportunity to really cement his status as one of the most reliably well-dressed men on the planet, which he took and smashed. Sure, leading man looks and effervescent charm certainly helped, but natural gifts aside, Golding’s dress sense showed an impressive reverence for the importance of making sure that everything fits impeccably.His numerous forays into tailoring saw all of the classics ticked off with aplomb (read: velvet, black tie) but he also showed he’s a dab hand at more eye-catching looks with bright red and pale grey colour block looks working particularly well. 19. Frank OceanFrank Ocean is arguably the most individual dresser on this list. But not in a blatant, over the top way. He knows what he likes, and doesn’t pander to brands or trends. This is a man who quietly showed up to Paris Fashion Week wearing a yellow down jacket from relatively unknown Swiss ski brand Mammut, when everyone else was dressed by the designers whose shows they were attending.He went to the Met Gala dressed as a bouncer, in all-black Prada, as he worked as a photographer taking candid snaps for Vogue. He drives BMWs from the 1980s while his contemporaries fight over the latest supercars. He wears deadstock vintage Nikes while everyone else rocks Balenciaga.Most modern celebrities (including many on this list) hire stylists to dress them, which, let’s be honest is cheating. A professional stylist would never advise a client to wear some of the looks Ocean wears, and this is precisely why we rate him so highly. He does his own thing, and this should be celebrated. 18. Eddie RedmayneThe eternally preppy Eddie Redmayne’s style hasn’t changed much in the last five years, and that’s no bad thing. Done well, preppy style is hard to beat, and Redmayne is head boy. From collegiate-inspired outerwear to sharply tailored suits, the Fantastic Beasts star rarely puts a foot wrong, and gives all the credit to his wife. There’s one way to save on hiring a stylist. 17. Rami MalekOscar-winner, Bond villain, style hero. It must really suck to be Rami Malek. He might have lived in hoodies during his breakout role in Mr Robot but off-screen, Malek’s style is a lot more polished. He combines inch-perfect tailoring with a few statement touches thqt wouldn’t look out of place in Mick Jagger’s tour wardrobe. Think bold patterned shirts or the occasional velvet jacket.There’s a certain amount of swagger here but some of the confidence to do it may stem from the fact that he grounds everything he wears with staples like black tailored trousers. That and the fact he’s Rami Malek. 16. Brad PittHere’s a funny thing: Tyler Durden is way more stylish than Brad Pitt. The actor is a fashion icon but when he’s not wearing a tuxedo, Pitt’s look is comfortable and – how shall we put it? – artfully unkempt. It works because a) he’s impossibly good-looking and b) his many stylish roles feed into his megawatt persona.In spite of all that, he looked bloody good this year, onscreen and off. In Quentin Tarantino’s Once Upon A Time In Hollywood, he wore the hell out of 60s and 70s outfits comprised of double denim, retro T-shirts, leather jackets and Hawaiian shirts. And on the publicity circuit, he flitted between excellent tailoring and defiantly laid-back looks, including flat caps, slouchy trousers and T-shirts worn over long-sleeve tops. Not many people can do that. Brad Pitt can. 15. Nicholas HoultNicholas Hoult’s menswear stock has been steadily on the rise for some years now, but this year it reached its peak. Not surprising, given his ability to pull off coloured tailoring is second to none, from a subtle navy dinner suit to a seventies-inspired blue and yellow look and everything in between.Far from a one-trick pony, when he’s not suited and booted you’ll often find him going big on texture with a series of killer suede jackets worn over printed shirts and dark denim. There’s something about this boy. 14. Mark RonsonThe release of his new album Late Night Feelings meant that 2019 saw more appearances for Mark Ronson than we’re traditionally accustomed to. As is standard for Ronson, this meant lots of retro-inflected tailoring that stayed far away from the humdrum, it was all brightly coloured, richly textured and always worn with the producer’s trademark insouciance.In fact, we’d even go as far to say that Ronson was a living, breathing rebuttal to those predicting the demise of tailoring at the hands of streetwear. 13. David BeckhamAfter some hiccups in the noughties, this decade has seen David Beckham full morph into a seasoned master of menswear and 2019 was testament to Goldenballs’ consistency with (to our knowledge) not one foot put out of place.We’ve had an endless roster of complementary haircuts and the odd addition to an already sizeable collection of tattoos, and as always Mr Beckham came up smelling of roses. For us Beckham was at his best this year at Wimbledon and it’s no exaggeration to say that all other attendees paled in comparison. But he also excelled – as he always does – in smarter casuals like suede bombers and envelope-pushing tailoring from Dior. He’s still got it. 12. Donald GloverAs one of the world’s most successful multi-hyphenated people, ever, it’s no surprise that Donald Glover’s wardrobe defies neat categorisation, reason or logic. On paper, Glover’s eye-poppingly bold patterned suits, mad flourishes and penchant for going shirtless under tailoring sound like things that render him ineligible for a best dressed man list, but here we are (again) finding ourselves nodding in approval of Glover’s so mad it’s good wardrobe. 11. Shawn MendesWhat had you done by 21? Singer-songwriter Shawn Mendes has had himself three US number-one albums by the age, and all while crafting himself a piece-perfect modern rock and roll style that pays its dues to the past while still feeling fresh today.Tailoring embellished with ritzy touches are his forte – finished off with a pair of Chelsea boots and rock star bling – while Parisian brands Saint Laurent and The Kooples are among his favourite brands, each possessing the slim-fitting monochrome style that has turned the squeaky clean pop idol into one of menswear’s coolest figures. 10. Pierce BrosnanTo say that Pierce Brosnan (at 66 years of age) was having some sort of second wind would be inaccurate, truth be told he’s been consistently stylish since anyone can remember. Highlights this year include mastering classic suiting, proving that suede bombers look perfectly at home on those past the flushes of youth and making sunglasses worn almost anywhere feel not a jot ostentatious, just achingly cool.Oh and then there’s the expertly styled shock of silver hair which only adds to Brosnan’s timeless appeal. All in all (another) vintage year for the man formerly known as Bond. 9. Dylan SprouseIt’s a sweet life Dylan Sprouse leads. Not only has the former Disney child star bagged himself a Victoria’s Secret Angel and the sort of bone structure people go under the scalpel for, but he’s also got one of the finest wardrobes around to boot.Luxurious knits, chunky leather jackets, electric tailoring – everything screams expensive and well done. Cut also plays a key part – not too slim so as to accentuate his slender frame – it’s a wider fit that harks back to a classier time. He might only be a hot young thing in Hollywood right now, but he’s dressing like a legend. 8. Timothée ChalametThe fandom is real with Timothée Chalamet. From 60-year-old Ohio mums to teenagers in Korea, there’s something about the Hollywood A-lister that incites frenzy. For some it’s the passionate acting, for others, it’s the cherubic locks. Both are great, but what’s caught our eye the most is his boundary-pushing approach to red carpet dressing.A muse for high fashion genius Haider Ackermann, the designer has pushed the actor into all manner of space-age tailoring this year, while the star was among the first to sport the infamous Louis Vuitton holster. Sure, both, would look an absolute train wreck on 99.9 percent of men, but they look out-of-this-world on Chalamet. And more importantly, they offer a small glimpse into what men could be wearing ten years from now. Bejewelled holsters at the ready. 7. A$AP RockyHip Hop and clothing have always gone hand-in-hand. But few rappers over the course of time have adopted high fashion with as much vigour as A$AP Rocky. He’s a bold dresser, not afraid of colour, pattern or babushkas, and famously wears everything from Rick Owens to Dior, and Prada to Raf Simons. But then, A$AP Rocky isn’t afraid of anything, not even over-zealous Swedish courts. And this is reflected in the way he wears his clothes.He has enough braggadocio for an entire nation, and his fearless approach means he exudes confidence – there truly is nothing that he couldn’t pull off and he often looks better in designer gear than the models who wear it down the runway. From oversized pink Loewe suits to tie dye, leather jackets to fur, he can do it all. 6. Chadwick BosemanChadwick Boseman knows how to wear a suit. Which is a good job, as when he’s not making box office breaking films, he’s usually on the red carpet promoting them. He makes tailoring fun, and does so through wearing audacious silk jacquard dinner jackets, bold colour suits and favouring unusual cuts. And there’s rarely a tie in sight. Boseman is one of the key figures pushing the boundaries of red carpet tailoring, and for this alone, he deserves a place on this list.But he’s also adept at dressing down, favouring as he does slim dark denim, sneakers and some form of lightweight jacket on top. He’s never over-styled, and always looks enviably comfortable in what he’s wearing, which is something we can all aspire to. 5. Shia LabeoufShia Labeouf is undisputed king of the scumbros and would seem, on the surface at least, to be anti-fashion. Don’t fall for it, he knows what he’s doing. The man has been at the forefront of every ‘uncool’ trend in recent years from the return of grunge to wearing hiking gear in the city.This year, though, came something very unexpected. Off-duty, he continued the always-knowingly-underdressed thing but on the red carpet he looked like a modern Don Draper. That doesn’t mean slim suits and tie bars, it’s means wearing very modern tailoring in very modern ways, all the while looking like he’s having a fine time at it. 4. Michael B JordanOur best-dressed man of 2018 carried his form throughout this year without breaking stride or tweaking the formula (why would you?). The Michael B Jordan winning combo includes fine tonal tailoring and easy-to-copy streetwear looks. No wonder luxury label Coach bagged him as the face.But here’s something that’s not as easy to steal from the Creed star: he seems to have a Mary Poppins-style bag storing an endless collection of incredible coats. 3. Tom HollandIf the mark of a truly well-dressed man lies in the ability to look great in both formal occasions and when dressed down, Tom Holland nails it every time. Part of the omnipresent Marvel Universe, he’s been everywhere, all year, and on both the publicity tour and the red carpet, the web-slinger didn’t have a thread out of place. We’d happily wear the relaxed check trousers he wore to a Spider-Man fan event in Seoul every damn day. Any chance, Tom? 2. Harry StylesHarry Styles is best known for his soft-rock sounds and Jagger-esque dance moves, but in recent years the ex-Directioner has also established himself as one of the best-dressed men in the music industry.Out of the boy-band bubble, these days his wardrobe reflects the switch from pop puppet to viable frontman, with a slew of coloured suits, crushed velvet textures and plenty of IDGAF swag. You can’t bribe the door on your way into a Gucci campaign, you know. 1. Jake GyllenhaalThere are always arguments when the FashionBeans team sits down to debate the best-dressed men of the year. That’s unavoidable when menswear is as wonderfully diverse as it is right now. But while we admire the trend-setters and the rule-breakers, dressing like Harry Styles or Tyler the Creator is only really possible if you happen to be Harry Styles or Tyler the Creator. We always end up coming back to someone who wears clothes that are, well, wearable.For our money, nobody has bridged the worlds of high fashion and everyday style better this year than Jake Gyllenhaal. He’s dabbled with trends (tie-dye, loose tailoring) and fallen back on classics (Harrington jackets, fisherman knits). Occasionally he’ll do something flashy, but more often he’ll abide by the fashion rules that govern everybody, not just Hollywood types with clever stylists.The colours suit him, the fits are always right and – importantly – he wears the clothes, they don’t wear him. As menswear gets braver and louder, that’s worth remembering. Source link

source https://www.kadobeclothing.store/the-best-dressed-men-in-the-world-2019/

[fashiontrendin-blog]

Why You Need To Invest In A Panama Hat

http://fashion-trendin.com/why-you-need-to-invest-in-a-panama-hat/

Why You Need To Invest In A Panama Hat

With the warmer months of summer comes the need to dress cool. Lightweight cottons, linens, lairy Hawaiian shirts, swim shorts, deck shoes and espadrilles suddenly appear on city streets and seaside boardwalks.

But finding an individual style to lift you above the sartorial herd can be hard. The answer, sometimes, is a hat. Although, too often they’re an afterthought and sadly mostly look that way too. Shapeless floppy sun hats, tired old baseball caps and straw trilbies put paid to any thoughts of a stylish summer.

Luckily there is one that saves the day. The Panama hat brings an elegant boost to any summer outfit, however casual or formal. It adds a sense of real style to those sunny days, providing not only protection from the sun’s rays, but also an additional something – a welcome eccentricity, perhaps.

The Panama has been around for a long time, but how do you wear it without looking like an extra from Downton Abbey? Where did it originate and can it really be a warm-weather essential in a casual world where sportswear reigns supreme?

Selecting And Wearing A Panama Hat

Here’s a question: what do Benedict Cumberbatch, David Beckham, Mick Jagger, Anthony Hopkins, Paul Newman, Gregory Peck, Fred Astaire, Winston Churchill and JFK all have in common? The answer of course is that all have worn a Panama hat.

Mick Jagger, 1973

Until a few years ago hats were effectively dead. Few men wore them. Yet from the 19th century to the 1950s it was rare to be seen out without one. A fur felt fedora or homburg for autumn and winter and a straw Panama hat for spring and summer would be part of every man’s wardrobe. Now they are returning to popularity as men realise how a well-chosen hat can add style and personality to a look.

The traditional Panama is a fedora-style hat shaped with a central dent in the crown which is pinched at the front, with a variable width brim and made from creamy toquilla straw. But they vary in style and must be chosen carefully to suit your face shape.

Prince Charles during the British Royal Tour of Australia, 1994

A good hatter will help you choose a style and decide on quality and a colour to suit you. Sophie Dallison of Laird Hatters says, “When someone walks in looking for a Panama – we would usually ask if they are buying with an occasion in mind, whether they are looking for a traditional bleached white/black ribbon combo or a natural straw colour. A tan Panama tends to look more casual but you can easily dress it up with a suit.”

A good option is the racing trilby shape, says Dallison, “which sits between a trilby and a fedora in terms of brim width, and it looks fantastic on men and women alike.”

David Byrne of Talking Heads, 1982

How To Wear A Panama Hat

Does Your Face Fit?

Horses for courses is the rule here. Not all hats for all face shapes. Personal stylist, Sarah Gilfillan of Sartoria Lab often buys hats with her clients and advises, “A larger brim will suit a large man with a round face and a smaller brim will suit someone of a smaller stature.

Massimo Dutti

“If you have a round or square face select a hat with a lighter coloured, or narrower hat band. This makes the hat appear taller which will add some length to your face shape, so it won’t appear squashed by your hat”. Try on a few different styles and get used to wearing him.

Look Beyond The Classic

Many hatters offer styles beyond the classic cream coloured fedora style, which can carry a whiff of the drunken cricket fan. If you prefer a less restrained look, go for a hat with colour and less traditional shapes, such as a trilby (with narrower brim and high crown). Wear something that will offer a fresher look in terms of shapes and colours.

M&Co

Allon Zloof of Tom Smarte likes to find variations on the classic roots of the design of his hats, playing with both colour and shape. “Traditionally, the Panama hat was always made in the classic wide brim fedora hat shape in a natural colour with a black ribbon”. However, brands are starting to design hats “in not just the classic natural fedora [shape] but also in the trilby and pork pie styles in a combination of colours and more contemporary ribbons”.

Go For Quality

So the Panama can be found in all manner of shapes and colours, but what about quality? Zloof says: “There are different grades of Panama hat, which differ according to the fineness of the weave. The tighter, narrower weave is much lighter and more flexible, but requires much more time and work to create, which results in a higher cost”.

Simons

A good quality hat will, when properly looked after, last much longer than the cheaper alternative, so the investment will pay off eventually. A high quality rollable hat can be more easily stored for travel, too.

Wear The Hat, Don’t Let It Wear You

The great thing about the Panama hat is that most can be worn with anything. It will embrace both a sophisticated Riviera style with a linen suit and cream buckskin shoes as well as a very casual beach look complete with swim shorts and Hawaiian shirt. Whether you’re at The Derby or Glyndebourne, a beach wedding or a summer festival, a barbecue or a city pub, there is a style to fit you. The world is your oyster in a Panama.

How you wear it makes a difference though. Place it flat on your head for a conservative look, or throw it on at an angle for a jaunty look – but go carefully; you don’t want to look as if you’ve over-imbibed at the beach bar. Above all, wear it with confidence and purpose, like you’re not giving it a second thought.

Unknown

Fit For Purpose

Like any item of clothing, a Panama hat will look best when it fits properly – which in turn ensures it’s not going to blow off with the faintest of breezes. The hat should fit comfortably without you having to jam it on your head to make it stay put. On the other hand, it shouldn’t move around or feel as if it’s too loose, either.

“I see too many men picking up a hat that is too large or too small for them, usually because the range of hat sizes offered on the high street is too narrow,” says Zloof. “Take a tape measure, find out what head size you are and then choose your hat accordingly.”

Simons

5 Key Brands For Panama Hats

Pachacuti

The combination of its sumptuous jacquard silk band – made in Devon – with the fine llano weave make for a fedora that is refined and sophisticated. It’s handwoven by skilled fair trade producers from Carludovica Palmata with straw grown near the coast of Ecuador. A high quality rollable panama hat at a fair price, wear it to Henley, Glyndebourne, the Derby or Wimbledon or with shorts to the beach.

Buy Now: £145.00

Tom Smarte

This is hand-crafted in Tom Smarte’s UK workshop using the finest weave from the Ecuadorian toquilla plant. Lightweight, yet sturdy, it features a centre dent, a high pinched crown and an accentuated brim at the front for optimal balance between sun protection and style. Such quality deserves to be worn with a cream linen suit to a sophisticated summer event, but with board shorts on the beach at Fistral will do fine.

Buy Now: £350.00

Laird Hatters

This straw fedora is a fantastic summertime hat and offers something a little different. Lightweight and airy, it is perfect for the warmer months and is made from seagrass, giving it plenty of characterful texture. Made in the UK, it’s suitable for a day-to-day wear or a casual event – slightly more relaxed in style, it’s one for that Hawaiian shirt, although it would go equally well with a linen blazer and chinos.

Buy Now: £75.00

Christy’s

Christy’s is one of the few brands that has a hat factory in the UK. It imports its Panama hat hoods directly from Ecuador before they are shaped, blocked and finished by hand in the UK to the highest traditional standards. The cross weave offers a hat that’s slightly different, perhaps a little more casual, although it would be ideal for a beach wedding or summer party.

Buy Now: £159.20

Marks & Spencer

Not strictly a Panama hat, this offers an affordable alternative to those on a budget or who tend to leave their hats on trains or accidentally sit on them. This hand woven straw hat is lightweight, allowing plenty of airflow to keep you cool in the sun. Matched with some sunglasses and a T-shirt, it makes a perfect addition to your casual wardrobe.

Buy Now: £25.00

The History Of The Panama Hat

Although often mistakenly called a straw hat, the Panama itself is misnamed, as the genuine article originates in Ecuador rather than Panama.

Mark Rogers of Pachacuti, who works with Ecuadorian women to make hats ethically and sustainably, explains, “The Panama hat should be called the Ecuadorian hat as it originates from Ecuador, but it was first traded out to the world from Panama during the 19th century, consequently given the the misnomer. The hats are hand-woven by artisans from the toquilla straw (carludovica palmata) which grows in the coastal region of Ecuador. It’s hats woven from this fibre that are traditional Panama hats.”

Paul Newman on-set of the film ‘The Long, Hot Summer’, 1958

Dallison of Laird Hatters agrees about the origins of the true Panama and adds, “You can judge the quality of a Panama by its weave, its colour and the quality of the blocking. The weave is a determining factor – the finer the weave is, the more expensive the hat will be. Montecristi is famously known for its fine weave, with party-trick ability to roll and fit in a wedding ring. That being said there is no standardised grading system – it’s down to each producer to grade its range so, a word to the wise, be wary of Montecristi hats being offered at lower prices”.

American novelist Winston Churchill in New York City, 1916

And exactly how is a Panama made? It’s a predominantly handmade object, as Rogers explains, “First the leaves of the toquilla plant are harvested and boiled to remove the chlorophyll and then dried. The grass is then passed into the weaver’s hands, who will then split the long leaves into smaller and thinner fibres depending on the quality of hat they wish to weave. The weaver then begins the laborious process of weaving the hat which can take anywhere from a day for a standard weave sun hat to 3-4 days for a fine rollable hat. Hats like our incredibly fine connoisseur hats can take weeks to weave.”