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wisteria-lodge · 2 months ago

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The Harry Potter Pretty People's Club

I’ve always been kind of fascinated by how and why *attractiveness* is used in the HP books. So, I’ve decided to play a little game, and score up characters based on how often their prettiness is brought up. Here’s my scoring system:

(1 point) - We are straight-up told that this character (or some aspect of this character) is attractive. The word beautiful, handsome, attractive, elegant, pretty, lovely, good-looking, good looks, nice-looking, curvy, or gorgeous is used.

(.5 points) - We are specifically told the character has nice hair, or nice teeth. (JKR describes teeth a lot, it’s a thing.)

(.5 points) - The character is described as moving in an attractive way. The word lounging, lolling, graceful, posing, or haughty (so lounging/posing, but more evil coded) is applied to them

In terms of the ranking, twins and and parent+child duos get to compete together, because how common “they looked exactly like their parent” type descriptions are in these books.

No points for “they used to be beautiful” or “they would be beautiful if...” Also no points if someone is described as attractive specifically by Rita Skeeter. We are clearly not supposed to take her as a reliable source. Also not counting the times Petunia calls Dudley “handsome,” or the time when Slughorn calls Ron handsome while trying to cheer him up after the love potion, for the same reason.

(if you’re curious, Rita does describe Hermione as “stunningly pretty,” Pansy as “pretty and vivacious,” herself as “attractive blonde, forty-three” and Harry as “the most beautiful thing she had ever seen” when he’s giving the interview about Voldemort’s return.) So let's get to the top 26 most attractive (?) characters in Harry Potter.

#26 - WILKIE TWYCROSS (.5)

“Graceful” apparition instructor. Unfortunately the rest of his description stresses that he’s practically see-through.

#25 - MADAM PUDDIFOOT (.5)

Has shiny hair. Unfortunately also “very stout” (and unfortunately we we know how JKR feels about fat people : / )

#24 - ROMILDA VANE (.5)

Has hair that is “black and shiny and silky.” Of course Ron does say that while zoinked out his mind on love potion, so not sure how reliable his report is.

#23 - HORACE SLUGHORN (.5)

Young Horace has “thick, shiny, straw-colored hair.” He’s also rocking embroidered waistcoats with golden buttons. Idk, I bet Horace was kind of dishy back in the day. Heck, I bet he still is. He’s well dressed, charismatic, charming. Someone has a crush on him. JKR is just mean and wrong about fat people

#22 - NEARLY HEADLESS NICK (1)

Has “elegant” hands. So, if you’re into that…

#21 - ANDROMEDA TONKS (1)

Andromeda’s sisters are not actually going to make the list, because they fall in the “beauty potential” category. Narcissa “would have been nice-looking if she hadn’t been wearing a look that suggested there was a nasty smell under her nose,” and the “long blonde hair streaming down her back gave her the look of a drowned person.” I love Narcissa, but that framing isn’t especially flattering. Bellatrix was once beautiful, but “something — perhaps Azkaban — had taken most of her beauty.” Now if Andromeda looks enough like Bellatrix to give Harry a double-take, and she looks like a Bellatrix with “wider, kinder eyes” who hasn’t been to Azkaban… she more than earns her place on the pretty list. Also is described as “haughty.”

#20 - ANGELINA JOHNSON (1)

“Rather attractive” according to Lee Jordan. Seems to wear micro box-braids, which Pansy says look like “worms.” Boo Pansy (who is not on this list.)

#19 - PERCIVAL, KENDRA & ALBUS DUMBLDORE (2)

Percival is “good-looking,” Albus has shiny hair, and Kendra is “haughty.” I’ll buy that the Dumbledores were a pretty striking family, that makes sense . But they rank a little low because they all only have one attractive descriptor apiece.

#18 - OLYMPE MAXIME (2)

She’s an elegant frenchwoman. The only lady on this list described as “handsome.” Also graceful, has shiny hair, and Hagrid is very into her.

#17 - PARVATI & PADMA PATIL (2)

Both of them look “very pretty” in their Yule Ball dress robes, and are quickly snapped up by Beauxbatons boys when Harry and Ron ignore them.

#16 - FIRENZE (2)

The “handsome centaur.” Also the only character described as “gorgeous” (by Parvati.) At which point Hermione scoffs and says that he’s got four legs. By which we can deduce that Hermione is a bit vanilla for this conversation.

#15 - BILL WEASLEY (2)

Described as “good-looking” and “handsome” by Mrs. Weasley, and of course FLEUR is very into him very quickly. I considered adding “cool” to my list of words connoting attractiveness, which would have bumped Bill higher… but JKR seems to associate “cool” more with personality. Like Mad-Eye and Hagrid are “cool” without being especially pretty.

#14 - GELLERT GRINDELWALD (2)

Briefly seen in a memory and a photograph, described as “handsome” both times.

#13 - LILY POTTER (2)

A “very pretty woman” and a woman with a “kind, pretty face.” Like with Andromeda, JKR throws in “kind” to make sure we know this is good-pretty, one step up from the Patil twins who are girly-pretty (sorry Patil twins.)

#12 - LUCIUS & DRACO MALFOY (2.5)

They have super sleek hair. It’s brought up a lot. Pansy likes to pet it.

#11 - BLAISE’S MOM & BLAISE ZABINI (2.5)

Blaise’s mom is a “famously beautiful witch,” who “had been married seven times, each of her husbands dying mysteriously and leaving her mounds of gold.” Fanon needs to decide on a name for her, and I think Clytemnestra is the right amount of on-the-nose. Blaise himself is described as haughty, and picky, and tends to “pose” and “loll against pillars.”

#10 - MADAM ROSMERTA (3)

Attractive, pretty, and the only character who is “curvy.” (I think she might have the boobs of Harry Potter universe.) Also wears sparkly turquoise heels, which is cute. Ron is into her, and so (I think) is Cornelius Fudge. I mean - “Rosmerta, m’dear… lovely to see you again, I must say. Have one [drink] yourself, won’t you? Come and join us.” Like, that’s flirty, right?

#9 - ROWENA & HELENA RAVENCLAW (4)

Surprising that they crack the top ten, but every time we see an image of them they are described as beautiful. Usually with a qualifier like “austere” or “intimidating.” Beautiful is a word with a little bit of an edge to it in this universe. Beautiful people are just… a little suspect.

#8 - GILDEROY LOCKHART (5.5)

Very handsome, good hair, good teeth. The teeth are honestly brought up enough to feel a little off-putting and predatory, which I think is exactly the point. Lockhart is a very 90s-Disney-movie queer-coded villain. But, he is extremely good looking (or at least very well put-together.) Mrs. Weasley and Hermione both have crushes on him, and he continues to get fan mail into his St. Mungo’s days.

#7 - GINNY WEASLEY (5.5)

Ginny’s an odd one. She’s described as “graceful,” popular, and “a lot of boys like her,” (according to Pansy.) Honestly, that’s mostly how we experience her beauty. Krum thinks she’s attractive, Blaise thinks she’s attractive, Amycus addresses her as “Pretty” in a creepy way, and so does some random Diagon alley amulet salesman. Both Harry and the narrative voice stay pretty quiet when it comes to thirsting over Ginny. We get the honestly very conflicted description “Ginny gave Harry a radiant smile: He had forgotten, or had never fully appreciated, how beautiful she was, but he had never been less pleased to see her” and then “Ginny and Gabrielle, both wearing golden dresses, looked even prettier than usual [at Fleur’s wedding].” Which isn’t even completely about Ginny! Maybe you could count the romantic descriptions of her hair being flamelike or on one occasion “dancing,” but that’s really it. I am doing my very best, and scraping the bottom here.

#6 - HERMIONE GRANGER (7.5)

Hermione seems to fall firmly into the “cleans up nice” category. She is the “pretty girl in blue robes” at the Yule Ball, looking good enough that Pansy gapes and Malfoy “didn’t seem to be able to find an insult to throw at her.” She’s also looking good at Fleur’s wedding, when Viktor and Ron are definitely interested. Her hair can look elegant and shiny if she puts in effort - otherwise it’s bushy, and Pansy compares her to a chipmunk. We also know she has large front teeth, before she gets them fixed. She occasionally gets a “graceful” or “haughty" description, and Greyback does creep on her (again with the creeping!) calling Hermione Harry’s “pretty little friend.” I also gave her half a point for the description of Horcrux!Hermione, who is “more beautiful and yet more terrible than the real Hermione.” That’s another good example of how JKR uses the word “beautiful,” and I guess “more beautiful” definitely implies some existing beauty.

#5 - CHO CHANG (8)

Cho is very pretty. She’s often described that way, and she has long shiny black hair. She naturally pairs up with Cedric, who also scored an 8. I wish I had more to say about her, I really do.

#4 - CEDRIC DIGGORY (8)

Our first “pretty boy" - he’s described that way by both Harry and Seamus. Seamus actually seems to kind of have a thing about Cedric. He doesn’t believe Cedric put his name in the Goblet of Fire because “I wouldn’t have thought he’d have wanted to risk his good looks.” And true, Cedric is “exceptionally handsome, with his straight nose, dark hair, and gray eyes” and probably our first extraordinarily pretty person. Angelina and Katie think he’s hot, Myrtle creeps on him - although, honestly - Myrtle creeps on everyone, and the text doesn’t take it very seriously. Interestingly in the film we get a moment of Voldemort turning over Cedric’s head with his bare foot, saying “Oh, such a handsome boy” - to which Harry replies “Don’t touch him!” That’s a subtle difference - in the books it’s only threatening when girls get creeped on, the movies are a little more equal opportunity.

#3 - SIRIUS & REGULUS BLACK (11)

Sirius is hot. He’s “carelessly handsome,” his “dark hair fell into his eyes with a sort of casual elegance neither James’ nor Harry’s could ever have achieved.” He rolled out of bed looking this good. Sirius is graceful and lounging and bored as hell, but you know “handsomely so.” Even when he falls through the Veil, it’s a “graceful,” beautiful death. Regulus gets a shout-out too, because he “had the same dark hair and slightly haughty look of his brother, though he was smaller, slighter, and rather less handsome than Sirius had been.” But, as is mentioned nearly every time he appears on the page, Sirius is extremely handsome. Less handsome than Sirius is still handsome.

I think it’s actually important to Sirius’ character that he is THAT beautiful. Sirius is a kid from a very bad environment who’s one bad day away from just snapping… but you’d never know it. He’s so attractive, he’s so effortlessly talented, he hides everything so well. Of course none of the adults in his life would be worried about him.

#2 - FLEUR, GABRIELLE & APPOLINE DELACOUR (12.5)

Fleur almost seems like a cheat, because she is supernaturally beautiful. She is “a woman of such breathtaking beauty that the room seemed to have become strangely airless. She was tall and willowy with long blonde hair and appeared to emanate a faint, silvery glow.” Even Aunt Muriel thinks she’s beautiful. (We also do get told that Fleur has nice teeth.)

But again, she’s beautiful. She’s that slightly threatening, too-feminine beauty. Until she gets married… and has a kid… which redeems her. “While [Fleur’s] radiance usually dimmed everyone else by comparison, today [at her wedding] it beautified everybody it fell upon.”

#1 - TOM RIDDLE SR. & TOM RIDDLE JR. (14)

Our clear winner, and also our second “pretty boy.” (Marvolo calls Tom Sr. “pretty,” and Tom Jr. is “his handsome father in miniature.” so yes, Voldemort does count as a pretty boy.) Poor Tom Sr. - the text frames the aftermath of his sexual assault as him “abandoning” his wife, but unfortunately that falls into the wider trend of only girls being victims of creeps in the HP books. It’s like the weird detail about the stairs to the dormitories - the girls can go to the boys dormitory, but not vice-versa.

But yeah. Tom Riddle’s attractiveness is brought up almost every time he is. We even get details - we specifically know he lost weight and grew his hair out after he left school, and it looked super good on him. Hepzibah Smith is very into him, Bellatrix is very into him. (Although I do wonder just how snakey he looked when they met.) Adult Voldemort doesn’t treat the loss of his looks as any kind of sacrifice, he seems well rid of them. They’re just another annoying aspect he wants to shed on his quest for transhumanism. He gets rid of his father’s name, it only makes sense he would want to get rid of his looks as well. I do like the detail that original eyes live inside the Locket, that is cool and creepy.

(but, logically, I can only assume that means his original nose lives inside the Cup.)

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fluentmoviequoter · 9 months ago

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Hold My Hand

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!reader

Summary: When you receive unwanted attention on a weekend staycation with your friends, a knight in a shining navy suit saves you by offering his hand.

Warnings: creepy guy doesn't understand 'no' and continues making unwanted advances, but Tim saves the day. angst to fluff (I guess?)

Word Count: 1.4k+ words

Picture from Pinterest

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

When your friends invited you out for a girls’ weekend, you were expecting a spa retreat or a cottage at the beach, not a penthouse in Los Angeles. More than that, you didn’t expect them to pick one of the sleaziest restaurants you’ve ever seen to spend their Friday night. Luckily – if there is a ‘luckily’ in this situation – you found a quiet corner on the rooftop. Your friends are downstairs, huddled around the bar as they look for rich, single men. It doesn’t exactly seem like the breeding ground for that type of man, though.

“Good evening, gorgeous,” a deep voice says behind you.

Assuming they’re talking to someone else, you ignore them, keeping your attention on the railing around the roof’s edge.

“Hey, ‘m talking to you,” he adds.

When his hand lands on your upper arm, forcefully turning you toward him, you truly begin regretting coming on this trip.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim feels like an animal in a zoo enclosure. Wearing a suit that isn’t his, in a place he’d rather never see again, with a few too many pairs of eyes blatantly watching him.

Two hours ago, he was sitting in the station, minutes away from getting to go home. Now he, Lucy, and Angela are undercover in a known mafia club. While the women in the restaurant stare at Tim, the men try to catch Lucy and Angela’s attention.

Sighing, Tim checks his watch. He’s been in one place too long with no sign of their target.

“I’m gonna go check the roof, see if our target’s up there,” Tim tells Lucy.

“The roof?” she asks.

“Yeah, the bar.”

“There’s a bar on the roof?!”

“We’re in Los Angeles, boot, of course there’s a bar on the roof. Angela, keep her close.”

Angela nods, and if Lucy wasn’t already a little creeped out by the men standing across the room, she would be offended.

Tim gets in the elevator, leaning against the wall once the doors are closed. The rooftop bar, however, is full of people who are somehow more intimidating than the ones inside. Looking around, Tim doesn’t see the target or any of his known associates. What he does see, though, is a situation that he shouldn’t get involved in, yet he can’t look away.

✯✯✯✯✯

The man beside you cannot take a hint. You slowly back away until his hand falls from your arm, and one of your legs slides off the barstool. When your foot hits the floor, you stand and keep the seat between you.

“C’mon, gorgeous, ‘s jus’ a question,” he slurs. “Yes or no?”

“I said no,” you repeat firmly.

He doesn’t like your answer, though, and you try to hide your flinch when he slams his glass down on the bar.

“You here alone?”

You glance around, hoping you see someone who looks trustworthy enough to hide with. But you don’t see anyone who fits the bill.

“No,” you answer. “My friends are downstairs.”

“Just friends?”

He leans closer, his arm moving to cage you on one side. Inhaling sharply, you try to think of a way to escape this situation without making it worse or drawing more unwanted attention.

✯✯✯✯✯

“We’ve got nothing,” Angela says in Tim’s earpiece. “Anything up there?”

“No,” Tim answers.

“We’re leaving then. Can’t do anything without him here.”

“I’ll, uh, I’ll catch up.”

“What?” Lucy asks.

“I’ve got to do something first. I’ll see you at the station tomorrow. Call if you need anything.”

Tim removes the earpiece, switching it off as he drops it into his blazer pocket. Moving quickly across the rooftop, he doesn’t realize that he doesn’t have a real plan.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Hey,” another voice says beside you. “I was wondering where you got off to. What’s going on here?”

You glance over, and your shoulders drop when you see how clean-cut and trustworthy he looks. Given your current situation, you’re glad to see a man who isn’t clearly a predator, but you try not to think about how low the bar is.

“Hi,” you reply. “I was trying to come back, but, uh, got caught up.”

Widening your eyes slightly, you try to communicate that you are not here by choice.

“Give her some room, man.”

The creep leans back enough that you can move, and you rush to your savior’s side.

“And next time a woman tells you ‘no,’ you’d do well to listen,” he adds darkly, letting you hide behind his shoulder.

“Whatever. She jus’ doesn’t know what she wants.”

A kind hand turns you around, and the man whispers, “I’m Tim.”

You tell him your name, flinching when glass shatters behind you.

“Hold my hand,” Tim says, spreading his fingers between you as he looks over his shoulder.

Without hesitation, you interlace your fingers with his. He pulls you close as the elevator opens. Once you’re alone, neither of you releases your grip on the other’s hand.

“Thank you,” you breathe out. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

“I hate that I had to jump in, but you’re welcome. Are you okay? Did he touch you?”

You shake your head, looking down at your joined hands.

“Do you really have friends downstairs?”

“I have… acquaintances that I will never be going on vacation with again.”

“Vacation? You’re not from here?”

“That’s the funny part. We all live here, so imagine my surprise when the weekend getaway was twenty minutes from my house.”

“Sounds like you need new friends.”

You hum before asking, “Who are you here with?”

“For work.”

At your confused glance, Tim raises his blazer to reveal a badge.

That must be why he helped you.

The door opens, and you pull your hand from his.

“Thanks for helping me, officer. Have a great night.”

Tim watches as you disappear into the crowd, stepping out of the elevator confused and surprisingly upset. Pulling his phone from his pocket, he calls the only person he can think of.

“No questions, Angela. I helped a girl get away from a guy who didn’t understand ‘no.’ As soon as she saw the badge she disappeared. Something was happening before that-“

“Timothy,” Angela sighs. “She thinks you did it out of duty then let her flirt with you. Find her and ask her out, anything to show that you did it for her and not because of some twisted savior complex.”

“Thanks, Lopez.”

Ending the call, Tim heads toward the bar. He thinks that’s where groups of girls on vacation probably hang out. When the bar comes into view, he has no problem finding you, like the brightest light in a dark room.

“Nothing happened, I just went to the roof for a while,” you insist.

“No, you had that glow thing. You met a guy.”

“Maybe I did but he wasn’t interested.”

“Don’t drag me into this if you’re not going to tell the story right,” Tim says, approaching your side.

“Tim?” you ask, turning toward him.

Your body language with him compared to the man upstairs, even how you interact with the women you're here with, differs vastly. Squared to him and completely open, you’re practically inviting him to do something.

“I didn’t do it because I thought I had to. I was off the clock, not that it matters. My motivation may have been pure, just to help, at first, but then you held my hand and I never wanted to let go.”

“Can we…” you pause as you look around. “Can we please not do this here?”

“As long as we do it now.”

Tim offers his hand, and you nod as you take it. Leading you through the crowd, Tim keeps you close. Exiting onto the noisy Los Angeles street, Tim turns toward you.

“I could tell you needed help, or wanted it at least,” Tim explains. “But I don’t want this to end here. I- your hand fits in mine.”

“Please don’t tell me that means we’re soulmates or something.”

Tim smiles, and you forget why you were upset in the elevator.

“I’m Tim Bradford,” he introduces, shaking your already joined hands. “I am a cop, but not with you. With you, I think I could be the man I’d like to be.”

“Romantic,” you murmur.

“I know. It’s scaring me a little. You can’t tell my friends, okay?”

“As long as we don’t tell mine either.”

“So, you’re willing to try?”

“I mean, where else am I going to find a knight in a shining navy suit?” you ask, leaning closer. “As long as your hand stays in mine, I’m willing to try.”

#tim bradford x reader #tim bradford fluff #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford the rookie #tim bradford #the rookie #fem!reader #requests

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chelseasdagger · 11 months ago

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Teacher - Chapter III

Frank Castle x Inexperienced F!Reader

Summary: Frank invites you to hang out with him at a bar on the outskirts of town. After some good food, and lots of teasing, you get invited back to his place to take care of the problem you caused him.

Warnings: age gap (reader is in her early 20s), mentions of drinking and smoking, cursing, grinding, detailed handjob sorry, slight praise kink

Author's Note: I am so incredibly sorry for how long it took for this chapter to come out!! I had a lot of life issues that delayed this, but I'm pretty happy with how this turned out so please accept this super long chapter as my apology/holiday gift!! And if you want to be added to the tag list just let me know. As always, reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated :) Leave a comment or shoot me an ask!! I'd love to hear what you think!

Word Count: 9k

Previous Chapters: I, II

“So I was thinkin’… Said you didn’t get many experiences even after high school, right?” Frank asks. His voice slightly muffled through the phone, which is wedged between your ear and your shoulder as you drag the spatula over the food you’re cooking on the stove. He had randomly rang you out of the blue and, after attempting to control your breathing, you answered the call. This was what he chose to greet you with and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t confused by the topic of conversation.

“Good morning to you too,” you tease, the food sizzling as you flip it in the pan. “But no, I haven’t. Why? What’s up?” you question.

“There’s this bar on the edge of town,” he begins his offer. “Little bit of a drive but they got good food,” he explains.

“Tempting…” you trail off, trying not to immediately agree just because it’s Frank. “Who all is coming?”

“Just me,” he replies. “That alright?”

“Yeah!” Your answer is too loud and far too fast to be playing it cool. After cursing yourself mentally, you try again. “Yeah, I was just wondering if it was a whole… get-together thing.” Your voice grows quiet at the end, not wanting to plant the idea in his head that you’d prefer it if there were more people.

Honestly, you were surprised he was reaching out this soon after the bonfire. It was one of the best nights of your life. Whenever you think about it, there’s this warmth that rushes through you; you’re not sure if the heat was from the big flames or his strong chest you laid against all night.

“Nah, just me. Just thought it would be somethin’ you might like,” you push the spatula around in the teflon pan as he speaks. “Plus it’s another thing off the list, right?”

“Yeah, it is! Thanks, Frank,” you say cheerily as you turn the burner off and open the cupboards to grab two plates.

“No problem, kid. Just thought about you, y’know?” You sink your teeth in your lower lip to calm yourself down before another thought comes to mind.

“Oh! When are we going?”

“Tonight,” he answers nonchalantly and your eyes grow wide. “If you’re free.”

You seriously weren’t expecting him to want to see you only two days since you two were last together. In your head, Frank is so calm and collected and you’re practically certain that this… thing you two have going on isn’t as big of a deal to him as it is to you. Still, you try not to question too much why he actually seems to enjoy having you around. Instead, you decide to just take the good as it comes.

“I am, I can do tonight. But I’m not sure I have something to wear. Is it like a club? Should I dress up or is it more jeans and—?” You don’t even realize when your voice picks up in speed and the questions fly out faster than you intend for them to, but Frank is quick to center you out of the beginning of your spiral.

“Just wear somethin’ cute, alright? I’ve seen some of your outfits, sweetheart, you’ll be fine.” You bite the inside of your cheek at his comment and inhale deeply before sighing. “I’ll pick you up at six, okay?” You hum an agreement as he confirms the time and say a goodbye before hanging up.

As you pull the phone away from your ear, you see an incoming text from your best friend drop down from the top of the screen.

“I’m two minutes away! I can’t wait to hear everything.”

That night when you got home from the bonfire, she had sent many texts in hopes of finding out the reasoning behind the newfound closeness between you and Frank. In your exhausted and slightly inebriated state, you told her that you would have her over Saturday morning to explain it all to her. You were much too tired to string the words together and you also know how she can tend to put her own emotions onto words; the last thing you needed was for her to hear the little arrangement you and Frank have and blow it out of proportion.

You set the table as you wait for her, making sure to leave a mug beside her plate for her tea that tends to be the staple of her breakfast. By the time the food is divvied up for each of you, there’s an impatient knock at the door. You shake your head with a smile as you open the door and she’s pushing past you as the questions immediately begin to roll off her tongue.

After guiding her to the small dining table in the kitchen, you watch her sit down and her eyes never stray from you. Her voice continues to fill the air as she talks over herself; there’s no distinct end to one sentence and the beginning of the next. By the time you’re sitting beside her and about to dig into your meal she finally covers her mouth, stopping all the enthusiastic queries she desperately wants to know.

“I’m gonna let you talk,” she mumbles behind her palms. You laugh at her attempts to force herself to be quiet and pick up a forkful of your food.

“I promise you it’s not as exciting as you think it is,” you warn her before popping the food in your mouth.

You start at the beginning—trying to skim over the details of your not-so-controlled crush on Frank as well as the more heated parts of the things you two have done together. Excited gasps fill the space surrounding the dining table and you watch as her eyes go wide when you mention it was his idea. Her mouth gets the better of her though and she begins to ask more questions while you speak. You make sure to answer all of them in time, save for a few chuckles here and there, before finishing your last bite.

“I actually have a question for you now,” you start again, watching as confusion washes over her features. “Frank called me this morning and he wants to take me out to this bar he likes. I just don’t know what to wear and I was hoping… you could help me?” You hesitantly look up to face her and you’re met with a beaming grin.

“Is this a date?! Is this the first one? Are you going back to his place after?” You shake your head once again as the sudden influx of questions fill the air.

“No, it’s not a date. I mean… I don’t think it is?” you let your thought process be shown aloud and watch as her giddy expression comes back to the surface. “It’s not! We’re just friends and he’s doing me a favor. I’m sure of it.” You decide then and there that you can’t afford to hold out hope and expect more than what he’s given you—which is already so much.

She raises her eyebrows up from behind the rim of her mug and you scoff at her knowing look. You brush your hand through your hair and try your hardest to not let your anxiety creep in about the idea of being on a proper date with Frank Castle.

And so together the two of you spend the afternoon diving through your closet together for something that could fit. It felt similar to a movie montage where the teenage girls toss different colorful fabrics through the air. With a growing pile on the floor of your bedroom, she gasps once you stand in the completed outfit.

“That’s the one!” she says excitedly before tugging you towards the bathroom. “Time for makeup!” She eagerly pats for you to sit on the counter while searching through your, admittedly limited, makeup bag. Doing the best with what she’s got, she gets to work on the eyeshadows and blush, finishing up with a curl of your eyelashes and combing mascara through them. You always loved how focused she got when it was time for something special; her tongue pokes past her lips as she concentrates, her eyes squinting to get the very last detail to sit right.

Once she’s satisfied, she spins you around to see yourself in the mirror and you’re actually surprised at how nice it all came together. You’re wearing an oversized, comfy jumper, tights that line your legs, and a black skirt that accentuates your frame. It’s not too fancy, but the black tights make your outfit more sleek and you silently hope that Frank will like it. As you fluff your hair up to give it some more volume, you thank her behind a wide smile.

A buzz of excitement rushes through you as you wait by the front door and hear the heavy revving from the engine of Frank’s van. You physically shake your arms in an attempt to let go of some of the nerves that built up and your friend gives you a quick hug.

“You got it, baby!” she encourages sweetly. “Have fun!” she calls out as you slip past the door. Making your way down your porch steps, you hear her shout something else from behind you. “Don’t do anything stupid!”

You chuckle at her warnings and make your way to the big, black van. You open the door and find Frank sitting with his elbow on his armrest and his head in his palm as he turns to face you. You stand there for a moment and await his initial reaction to your outfit. His eyes widen slightly before they rake over your boy, his lips parting as he takes it all in.

He brushes his thumb along the defined line of his jaw before sinking his teeth into his lower lip. His eyes settle on the small slit of the skirt that rests high on your thigh. There’s a pause for a moment before he finally speaks up.

“Told you you’d find somethin’ cute.” He fixes his posture and gives you a smile as you roll your eyes and sit in the passenger seat. Being with him felt easy now—of course there’s still the butterflies, which you’re expecting to make a permanent home in your stomach any day now, but it’s mostly when you’re about to see him. When you’re actually in his presence, it all fades away and you love how comfortable he makes you feel.

If you had told yourself a few weeks ago that you’d be on a half hour car ride with Frank Castle to the outskirts of town, she probably would’ve brushed it off as some sick joke. But here you are, sitting beside him and watching as he flips through radio stations until he settles on a classic rock song. You enjoyed getting to discover little pieces of him the more time you spent with him.

As he drives under the lamp posts longing the winding roads, you watch as the passing lights illuminate his face before it’s cloaked in shadows of the night once again. Each time you move underneath them, light showcases his features in a warm glow for mere moments at a time. You think your new favorite thing might be when the gleam seeps into the small dip in the bridge of his nose. That small highlight makes you smile and he catches it as he turns to look at you once you’re stopped at a red light.

“What is it?” he questions, his eyes squinting slightly as he looks at you. With a shake of your head, you face back to the light strung up in the air. His gaze doesn’t leave the side of your face though, and you know he’ll want an answer.

“This is just nice,” you shrug your shoulders. “Thank you for thinking of me,” you add. You want to make sure he knew how happy you were to be doing this, despite your quiet nature due to your fear of somehow screwing this up with your words.

“Haven’t even done anything,” he laughs softly.

“Well, I’m still enjoying myself,” you reply in a gentle tone. Frank doesn’t say anything more as he continues to look at you. The light changes and a green glow washes over your face, queuing him to face the open road once again. You glance down as his hand moves to the gear shift, trying not to focus too long on how the veins in his hand are accentuated as he curls his fingers around the knob.

Frank speaks up again after a moment and you quickly recenter your attention. He engages you in some light conversation and pretty soon you’re laughing along to his comedic storytelling. You don’t even realize you’ve arrived until he’s put the car in park and turns the key off in the ignition. Looking out from behind the glass in front of you, you see the neon lights surrounding the big, bold letters of the name of the bar. It shines brightly in the night sky and acts as a small beacon in the dark parking lot.

You look up at the sound of the driver side door closing and realize Frank has left the car. You reach for your bag that’s resting on the floor between your feet and by the time you move for the handle, he’s opening your door for you. It’s the first time you’re able to truly take him in. He’s wearing a pair of nicely fitting blue jeans and a grey jacket, complete with the black boots you’ve never seen him without. You can’t tell what he’s wearing under the thick material that conceals his chest though, and you find yourself hoping it’s something tighter and hugs his torso.

“You ready?” he asks, and you nod in response. “Alright, watch your step,” he warns and you feel his hand bracing your upper arm as you hop out from the slightly lifted van. Once you’re secure on the ground, the two of you begin making your way towards the entrance. As you pass by the cars parked in organized rows under dim lamplights, you begin to make out the few scattered people smoking and even spot a couple sharing a cigarette just outside the main doors.

Once inside the building, he shrugs off the jacket and you can finally piece together his outfit. Frank’s broad shoulders stretch the fabric of the dark blue button up shirt. It’s tucked into his denim pants and secured with a black belt. He fits the attire of everyone else here in the bar, but still stands over a head taller than the rest—not to mention infinitely more attractive. You try desperately to rip your eyes away from him, and in doing so, take in the scenery of the pub.

The bar is crowded but not so occupied that you can’t move. The loud, overlapping voices meld to create a soft droning that accompanies the background. It doesn’t stand a chance to the band though, whose loud amplifiers cause a shake in your chest with each note they strum. Polished wood lines the walls and there’s photographs of smiling people decorating them, forever cherished behind glass frames. It feels oddly homey, admittedly impressive for a place you’ve never stepped foot into before tonight.

You accidentally bump into Frank and he steadies you with his large hands on your waist. He’s staring down at you with a subtle smile on his face. He begins to talk but you don’t have the slightest clue what he’s saying; the song that’s playing is far too loud to hear the lower tone of his voice. Shaking your head with a frown, you let him know you can’t understand him and his smile grows wider. He then leans down, his fingers brushing your hair away from your ear before he speaks.

“Asked if you wanted to eat,” he starts, his breath immediately warming the side of your neck. With just those few words, it feels like all the other noise falls away. All you can focus on is the rumble in his voice and how the words feel as if they dance down your spine. “I’m starving,” he adds, and you’re certain your new headspace gave his words a different context than he intended.

He pulls away for your response and all you can muster up is a slow blink and a delayed nod. There’s no cocky smirk at your expression and you wonder if maybe he decided to spare you the embarrassment this time. He promptly turns and you fall in line beside him, letting him guide you around the crowd. His palm finds its way to your lower back as he leads you and just like that, your heart picks up in pace once more.

You’ve only seen the same small movement depicted in movies and you can now safely say that experiencing it is so much more exhilarating. Part of you is frustrated that such an insignificant touch can make you this excited, but Frank’s charm has a tremendous effect on you. Still, you tell yourself it’s the anticipation of his hand being elsewhere on your body that riles you up.

His hand stays put until the two of you reach a booth lining the back wall. There’s a small lamp that bathes the whole table in a warm glow and you and Frank place your things down before sliding into the long seats. As you stare at him from across the table, you watch as his eyes scan the crowd and then the main stage as he focuses on the band. They’re currently playing a cover of a classic rock song and Frank smiles as he nods his head to the music.

“This place is nice,” you raise your voice slightly to be heard over the music. He turns to face you and his smile grows wider.

“Yeah? You like it?” His question is accompanied by your own nod and he continues. “I’m sure there’s fancier ones close to town, but I’ve been coming here for years and they’ve always been good.”

He raises his hand in the air, tilting his head up and leaning to the side as if to catch someone’s attention. You follow his line of sight and look over your shoulder to see a woman with a black apron tied around her waist. She looks slightly past you as a grin covers her face and walks over to your table quicker than you expected.

“Frank?! What are you doing here?” Her voice is already grating and she’s only said a handful of words. Her tone is drawn out, almost flirtatiously, and she stands closer to him than you would’ve liked.

“Just showing her around,” he answers simply. He looks at you and when the waitress does the same, her face falls. You muster up an awkward smile and try to shake off the weird look she gives you. “She’s never been here before, you think we could get some menus?”

“Sure thing,” she mumbles, stepping away only to return a moment later with two long, laminated sheets of paper. She drops them to the table and you spare yourself the trouble of looking at her again.

“She sure seems to like you,” you speak up once she’s left. Frank scoffs before grabbing a menu and shaking his head. “Did you see the way she looked at me? What did I do?” You ask with a frown, wondering if you did something unintentionally.

“She’s probably just pissed cause you’re sitting with me and she’s not,” he answers with a sigh. He flips the paper around and you notice the way his eyes dart around the page. His answer wasn’t very reassuring though, and you still feel the tension in your body. As you scan the small print of the menu in your hands, you can feel his gaze on you. You try to shake the disappointment and to make it less obvious that what she said affected you, but you’re not certain how good of an actress you are.

“Y’know what?” he speaks up after a few seconds. You raise your face to him as he continues, “I know this place a couple of blocks down? Best god damn beer I’ve had.” His hand disappears under the table and a moment later you see his fingers curled around his jacket. “It’s German! You haven’t tried that one before.” He leans across the table before whispering, “You’re gonna hate it.”

His attempts at distracting you work well and you can’t help the laughter escaping you at the final thing he said. Frank’s own crooked smile returns at your reaction and a softness settles into his brown eyes.

“There she is,” he mumbles once he sees your regular self bubble back up to the surface. You bring in a deep breath and choose to shake off any residual awkwardness you felt from before.

“No, no it’s okay. We can stay here.” You finish your sentence and look back towards the music before facing him. His hands are empty now as he continues to stare at you and you feel confident in your choice to stay.

After looking over the endless list of drinks, burgers, and other appetizers, you read a description of a sandwich that makes your stomach rumble to life. You immediately decide on it without a second thought and smile up at Frank, watching him run his finger across the page between two options and looking quite indecisive.

Before long, the ill behaved waitress is back to take down your order. You pick your sandwich, remembering to take off the toppings you aren’t too fond of, add in an order of fries, and your usual favorite drink to top it off. With a hesitant glance up, you see her scribbling down your order on the small notepad in her hand. Her expression is twisted up as if she smelled something foul and you feel that uneasy feeling settling in once more.

“I’ll have the same as my date here,” Frank answers before she can ask about his meal. He gently taps the two menus on the tabletop before handing them over to her. His lips part as his eyes drag over your features and you notice the way they stop for a little longer than they should when they reach your mouth.

To say you were shocked was an understatement. You weren’t sure if he said it just to get under her skin or not but part of you didn’t really care. He said it regardless and that made a smile carve its way onto your face. An annoyed scoff is heard from above and you see a hand come into view to snatch the menus away from Frank. He never looked away from you once.

The moment the food arrives, you’re excitedly grabbing your sandwich and lifting it to your mouth. As your teeth sink into the toasted bread, the flavor hits your tongue and a satisfied moan escapes you. Frank is quick to lift his eyes at the sound, his eyebrows raising as he takes in the scene in front of him. You raise your hand to your mouth and begin to grow bashful at the look on his face.

“Sorry!” You apologize, your voice muffled behind your palm. “It was just really good,” you explain once you swallow your food down.

“Don’t gotta apologize for that, kid,” he replies through his own raspy chuckle. You bite your lip and tuck a strand of hair behind your ear before reaching for the fries in your basket next.

The two of you dig into your identical meals and make some easy conversation in between bites here and there. You’re honestly impressed with how good the sandwich is and you’re glad you picked it out of the infinite number of items on the menu. Frank wasn’t lying when he said he loved this place. You watch him look up from his meal every now and then with a big smile on his face as he moves his head to the beat of the music. His energy was infectious and you found yourself tapping your toes along too.

“Y’know,” he speaks up after finishing the last bite of his sandwich. At the sound of his voice, you begin to look up to his face, but your eyes latch on to something else. Frank sucks his fingers clean of the salt from his fries, his lips pursing as his cheeks hollow, and you immediately lose any grip you had on controlling your thoughts around him.

“When we ordered I saw your beer on the menu.” You hear his words but they have absolutely no meaning, no way of stringing them together to make a continuous thought as you watch him suck the seasonings from his thumb. You begin to feel a sense of injustice at the fact that those fingers weren’t where you desperately wanted them to be. With a pout, you look back to his gaze and see the confusion clear in his eyes.

“What?” you blurt out, finally remembering he had spoken and that you hadn’t processed anything he had said. He scoffs before shaking his head, his smirk spreading wide across his face before he speaks again.

“Said they have the beer you like here,” he repeats himself, his cocky grin a clear indicator that he saw how you froze up at sight just moments ago.

“I’m actually good tonight,” you say confidently. Reaching for your glass, you take a sip of your drink and hold his gaze as you stare at him from under your eyelashes. He sits back against the cushion of the booth and his eyebrows pull together as he thinks about what you said.

“Yeah?” he asks, squinting his eyes at you.

“Mhm, not letting a few beers stop me from what I wanna do after this,” you explain. You’ve never felt more frustrated than when he stopped you from kissing on his neck. You understood why he did it, and are actually very thankful he didn’t want it to go further, but the disappointment coursed through you all the same.

“Hmm? And what exactly is that?” he questions as the band finishes up the song they had been playing. Your eyes follow the noise as the crowd erupts into whistles and claps, applauding the musicians. When you finally look back over, Frank’s in the same position. It’s like he never looked away from you—hell, you’re not sure if he even blinked.

You don’t answer him though and make up your mind to keep him on the edge of his seat. Instead, you smile sweetly before picking up a fry from your basket and popping it past your lips.

He gives you a knowing look, but doesn’t pry. Perhaps he was looking forward to the surprise of it all. You only hope you can remain as confident as you feel now so you can properly act out your plan. Before long, he swallows down his last french fry and Frank speaks up with a question.

“You wanna go dance?” Your whole body freezes at the mere thought of attempting to dance, not to mention the added nerves of doing it in a crowded room with Frank Castle standing witness. But as you look out onto the dance floor full of moving bodies, you realize most of them are probably far too intoxicated to really pay attention to you. Deciding to push past the initial fear, and wanting to be fully present with him and have fun, you nod and scoot out of the booth.

Frank stands in front of you and his hand soon comes into view of your eyeline. You place your hand in his and feel his fingers curl around your palm as you brace your weight on him and rise to your feet. You stand on your toes and motion for him to come closer so you can speak into his ear.

“Just so you know, I’m a terrible dancer,” you say after he’s tilted his head towards you.

“What part of me screams that I’m a good one?” he asks, and you chuckle at his joke. He smiles down at your laughter and nods his head behind him, letting you know he’s going to the dancefloor.

Frank keeps a hold of your hand as he leads you through the crowd. His broad body splits the sea of bodies as he walks and you follow close enough behind him to squeeze past them as well. There’s blue hues from the dim lights that shine over the people, but other than that you can’t see much beside their moving feet. He must’ve gotten to a clearing where there’s not as many people bumping into one another, because he stops walking and turns to you.

You’re sort of frozen still for a moment as the reality of it is beginning to creep in. But then Frank starts to shimmy his shoulders and you can’t help but break into a wide grin. Just like that, you’re thawed. The awkwardness you felt is starting to leave you as you begin to loosen up in front of him.

The band plays a fun, upbeat song that you don’t recognize, but he seems to be making the moves up as he goes along. You follow his direction, copying him but still keep some distance, trying to slowly shake off those nerves that are still lingering around. Suddenly, Frank does a move that you can’t even begin to describe with words alone and you burst into laughter as you watch him. Holding your stomach, you shake your head at him and he begins to laugh too.

The band then retires from the stage, saying their farewells as the crowd applauds and whistles. Frank claps along with the rest of them and you cup your hands around your mouth to give a small cheer. You really enjoyed their set and wouldn’t mind coming back here again to watch them play once more.

Once the stage is clear, music begins to play over the speakers and Frank’s face lights up. His excitement is clear after just the first few notes.

“God, this takes me back,” his wide grin causes his eyes to squint up. You smile up at him, happy at his enjoyment, but you can’t help your head from tilting to the side confusedly.

“You haven’t heard this before?” he asks incredulously and you shake your head. “It’s literally my favorite song, how do you not know this?”

“When did it come out?” you ask, and watch him look up as he starts to think.

“Must’ve been… right after graduation, I think?” He does the math for a moment longer before answering with the year it was released. The answer has you fighting back a giggle as you stare at him awkwardly.

“Frank, I wasn’t born until two years later,” you answer honestly, and the look on his face is priceless.

“Jesus Christ…” he replies, dragging his hand down his face. You begin to worry now, wondering if you shouldn’t have brought up that point. He must’ve caught a glance at your anxious frown because he’s quick to explain himself.

“You’re fine just… my back hurt when you said that.” His hand comes to the back of his neck to emphasize his point and your smile finds its way back to your lips.

Despite the initial embarrassment you ran into after being reminded again of the gap in age between you and Frank, you found yourself really enjoying the song. He was honest when he said it was one of his favorites. You’ve never seen him this lively before and you love being able to soak up every minute of it. He’s so animated as he dances, holding you close to him with his hand secured at your back. The lines to the song fall past his lips like muscle memory as his forehead presses to yours.

You can’t stand being this close to him. Your whole body feels like it’s been shot with a current of electricity and you’re desperately wanting him to stop singing and put his mouth to yours. He might have a sixth sense—or simply just picked up on the timing—because his lips are on yours a second later. He kisses you deeply, his tongue brushing your lower lip for a moment before you eagerly let him in. Your head tilts to the side as you kiss him back and your arm wraps around his wide shoulders to ensure you’ll have your fill.

All too soon he’s breaking the kiss and you immediately suck your bottom lip behind your teeth to savor the feeling of him. He suddenly lifts his arm into the air and cues you to spin. You twirl under his hand with a huge grin and then he yanks you in for the finish, timing it so that your back is to his chest when you land against him. His same palm immediately finds your hip and tightens to keep you flush to him. His opposite hand travels down the length of your torso, his index finger tracing your side as he moves.

He begins to whisper the lyrics against your ear and you can’t bring yourself to focus on their meaning. He’s all over you and it’s making you feel dizzy, as if you’re drunk on his scent alone. Each pass of his finger along your ribs alights a fire at your side and you try to keep up as he begins rocking you from side to side to the rhythm of the song. His breath warms the entire side of your face and neck with each word he whispers. You fall under his spell and roll your head to the side at the feeling of his warmth all over.

When the song starts to fade and a new one begins overlapping it, you’re left with a bittersweet feeling; part of you never wanted to leave that moment and would gladly listen to that song on loop for the rest of your life, but the other half of you was almost frightened at how easily you turned to putty in his hands. You felt the need to have a better grasp on yourself, especially if you wanted to stay courageous for what you had planned for tonight.

The mix of two songs smoothen down into one and you instantly recognize the slow, sexy bassline that’s pumping through the speakers overhead. You’re not sure what came over you. Perhaps you wanted to prove to someone that you’re not that same timid, little girl. Whatever it was that coursed through your veins, you’re thankful that it gave you the strength to grab his large palm and put it back into place at your hip. You use the extra support to push your ass back into him, making sure to press hard enough until you feel the bulge in his jeans.

Frank doesn’t show any reaction except for his fingers tightening into your skin as if you were a lifeline. You smile as you continue to grind into him, your hips following the similar movements he taught you just a few days prior. Facing away from him gives you the extra boost of confidence needed to perform this act, but you’d be lying if you said you wouldn’t kill to see the look on his face right now.

With each push of your ass against the denim fabric, you feel the heat of his bulge so close to where your own warmth had started to pool. This felt good and you felt pride surging through your chest once you realized exactly what you were doing.

And then his arm crosses your chest and pulls you flat against him once more. His forearm is pressed against your collarbones and you feel your breath hitch at the hold he has you in. With a shaky inhale, you swallow down the lump in your throat and wait for him to speak.

“Look at you, sweetheart,” the tip of his nose brushes the curve of your ear and you try your damndest to not let your body double over. “Someone’s getting confident, huh?” His arm begins to slowly drop from across your chest, and instead reaches your lower stomach. From there, he applies pressure until you’re as close as you could be to him.

“You feel that? Hmm?” There’s an undeniable hardness under the thick layers of fabric. It doesn't feel as big as the last time he got turned on from you, but it’s still noticeable. “That’s all you,” he finishes with a lower tone of voice before taking half a step back and leaving you to sit with his words.

It takes you a moment to wrap your head around this entire situation. It’s abundantly clear that the mood has changed from light laughter and awful dance moves to something more sultry. You can feel the warmth slowly spreading between your legs and it leaves you with a buzz that makes you feel like your movements are slowed. When you turn around to finally face him, he’s already staring down at you expectedly.

“Why don’t we get outta here?” he asks, deep voice blending in with the booming bass. You nod at him and it feels like you’re moving in molasses. The dull, blue light from above catches his face for a moment. There’s something deeper to his unreadable expression; his jaw is clenched as if he’s trying to hold something back.

Once the two of you make it back to the table, Frank reaches into his back pocket for his wallet. He thumbs through the notes before tossing a few bills onto the table. He reaches into the booth seat for his jacket and shakes it out before draping it over your shoulders.

“Thank you,” you mumble in a quiet voice.

“Don’t gotta thank me for that, sweetheart,” he shakes his head, insisting that your gratitude isn’t needed. He begins to walk towards the door with his hand in its designated spot at your lower back to help guide you once again. The chill of the night air hits you the second you step out of the building and you find yourself curling his jacket snugger around your body. His scent is stuck to the collar and it helps lessen your shivering from the cold breeze.

He walks you to your side of the van and opens the door for you to climb in. Even after he gets in and begins driving down the same winding roads, there’s not much conversation between the two of you. The tension in the car is thick and incredibly palpable. You’re indecisive about whether to break the silence or leave it untouched so as to not make it worse.

Eventually Frank pulls into his parking spot that faces the front door of his apartment. After putting the van in park and walking around to open your door once more, you take his hand and carefully step down. He unlocks the door and gets you inside quickly, trying to shield you from the chilly air. Once he flicks the lights on, you’re greeted by the familiar sight of his living room and feel that desire to touch him creep back in. Your name falls from his lips and you turn your head at the sound.

“I’m sorry if I went too far back there. I shouldn’t have—,” he begins to apologize, but you’re quick to interrupt by pressing your lips to his. A surprised grunt comes from him and you smirk into the kiss, pleased to have caught him off guard. He wastes no time in wrapping his arms around you and begins leading you towards the couch. When you feel the back of your knees hit the curve of the cushion, you angle yourself in front of Frank and push him into the sofa below.

He looks up at you with his lips parted and his chest is noticeably bringing in deeper breaths each time he inhales. His usually soft, brown eyes have a darkened glint to them and you’re certain you’ve never seen this emotion on him before. Your pulse is racing through your own body and you swiftly straddle him with your knees on either side of his hips.

His impatient fingers grab hold of you in a way no one ever has before. The action causes a surprised gasp to fall past your lips, but it’s swallowed down by Frank who can’t seem to keep his mouth off of yours. The light stubble decorating his jaw scratches at your skin and the rough feeling does nothing but spur you on further. You begin to roll your hips into his as you fall into a familiar pattern and he uses his hold to help guide you into moving faster.

His movements are rushed and needy and it makes you feel reassured that he wants this—he wants you. That little boost to your ego has your hands tracing down his body, your palms rubbing down his strong chest, before finally reaching his belt. Your fingers search blindly for the leather and the sound of the buckle clinking sounds out in between the wet noises of your kisses.

“Woah, easy,” Frank breaks the kiss the second the sound reaches his ears. “Let’s just, uh…” he trails off and you feel his fingers gently prying yours away. “Let’s take it slow, alright?” His tone is so soft and the concern is written clearly across his features.

“Frank, please,” you try to reason with him. “I didn’t even drink tonight! And I just… last time I was all worked up and I really want to do this.” You finish with a pout as you glance up at him with pleading eyes. He swallows hard as he stares at you for a moment, probably battling something internally.

“What do you wanna do?” he asks slowly, trying to make his words clear. The question is so simple but admitting it to him makes you feel small again.

“I… I want to touch you,” you mumble, silently hoping he doesn’t ask you to be more explicit than that.

“You sure you want this?” His eyes never leave yours as he confirms your consent.

“I really do,” you reply, bringing your hand up and cupping his cheek. You brush your thumb over his skin and watch as he begins to shut his eyes and breathe deeply. “Please?”

You’re not sure if it’s the quiet plea, his own craving that’s swaying his decision, or some combination of the two, but he slowly uncurls his fingers from your wrist. You beam brightly at him and whisper a thanks as you peck him on the cheek.

“You’re still gonna have to walk me through it, Frank,” you say through a small chuckle.

He nods with an equally quiet, “I know.”

From there, he doesn’t try to deter your movements any longer. He lets you continue as you slide his belt past the metal buckle. You look up at him for reassurance and he nods his head with a smile. He takes your hand in his and pulls it to his bulge, letting you feel it properly for the first time. Excitement races through you and settles in your lower stomach as you watch your hand touch him over the denim.

“Can I take your jeans off?” Your question is met with another nod as he lets go of you. Slipping the button past the slit, you then lower the zipper past the teeth and the sound feels so loud in the otherwise silent room. You move to sit beside him and Frank helps you tug his pants down, raising his hips to lower them some more until they fall past his knees. He’s wearing a pair of dark grey boxer briefs and your eyes linger far too long on how they hug his thighs.

The thick outline stretching the fabric is enough to recenter your attention though. You start to feel the nerves coming back once you register just how big he is as he lies against his hip. You always had a feeling, given the sheer size of the man, but seeing it is a whole other experience. Thankfully, Frank doesn’t rush you as he lets you take this all in. You hesitantly move your hand over the length of him, brushing your fingers over the defined line underneath the head of his cock.

The next thing you reach for is the waistband of his boxers. You curl your fingers over the edge and tug them down, watching as more and more of his happy trail becomes exposed. He once again helps you pull them past his legs and now that he’s bare in front of you, you can’t help your eyes from widening. You had thought the bulge was big, but it was misleading; Frank is actually much larger than you had anticipated.

“What? You’ve never seen—?” He starts but you’re quick to cut him off.

“I have. I’ve seen, like, porn before but…” you find your voice leaving you as you stare between his legs. “It’s just bigger in person.” His chuckle sounds out and you raise your head to the noise only to be met by an amused smirk at your confession.

“S’not just cause it’s in person, kid,” he laughs through his words and you roll your eyes at his cockiness. You like that you can still crack jokes during a time like this and you find yourself thankful that you get to have Frank as your first introduction to sex. Feeling more relaxed, you reach forward and gently curl your fingers around his thick base.

“You can hold it tighter than that,” he speaks up after a second.

“I know,” you respond, tightening your hold on him a little more. He snorts lightly at the, apparently, subtle increase in pressure and you feel his larger hand curling around your own. His long fingers squeeze over yours, adjusting your grip on his length as he begins to move your hand up and down. He’s warm and heavy in your hand, two things you hadn’t given much thought of before now. Frank lifts your hand once more and a satisfied sigh leaves him.

The sound stirs something in your stomach and you try to swallow down your own growing arousal at the noise he’s making. He loosens his hold on you and you watch as his hands find the hem of his shirt before bunching it up and exposing the lower half of his stomach. There’s so much to look at and it’s pulling your attention in too many ways. You try to focus on him in your hand though and begin speeding up your movements.

“You can spit on it,” he speaks up after a few seconds. You turn to face him and feel your eyebrows pull together at his words.

“Like just… spit on it?” The confusion is more than likely obvious in your tone but you want to ensure that you don’t embarrass yourself with him. Not now when you’ve made it this far.

“Yeah, go for it,” he encourages gently. With one last glance at him, you lean forward and lower your head over his length. You purse your lips and part them as you let the split slowly drip until it’s sliding over his head. You watch as it runs down past the tip and Frank clears his throat.

“Shit, yeah that…” he trails off as he raises his hips slightly. “That works too.” You smile at his words and wonder if his movement was an instinctual reaction to the warmth running along the smooth skin of his cock.

With the help of the extra slick added to his length, you begin to work your hand faster on him. You know from what you’ve heard that the tip is more sensitive, so you raise your hand right underneath his head and tighten your grip. A grunt immediately falls from him and you impulsively let go of him. You face him with a worried expression and watch as he brings in a deep breath before swallowing thickly.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. Just felt real damn good.” The praise in his words immediately rushes to your heart and you feel yourself swell with pride. You can’t believe you made him feel that good, but now you’re determined to see what other sounds you can pull from his pretty lips. As you focus your attention back to his cock, you see a few beads of precum beginning to bubble up at his swollen tip. You rub your thumb in circles over the slit, spreading around the proof of his pleasure, and you feel him twitch in your hold.

“Shiiiiiit,” the drawn out curse sounds raspy and you don’t stop your movements as you check once again to see his reaction. Frank’s head is tilted back slightly against the couch cushion, his mouth is parted, and his eyes are scrunched up slightly. You try your hardest to memorize this version of him. You wish you could ingrain this memory so you’ll never forget how good he looks when he’s succumbing to his pleasure.

Twisting your hand as you move it over his length, you notice the way his adam's apple bobs as he swallows down presumably another groan. You can’t resist the urge to feel even more of him, and press your lips against his neck. Lazy kisses are littered across his skin while you work your hand faster, intermittently tightening your hold on his thickness. His throat tightens as he feels the wet marks of your affection, and the next thing you feel is his fingers tangling in your hair. He pulls gently as he tugs your head up to his and he kisses down your surprised gasp, his tongue slipping into your mouth.

You’re having trouble keeping up with his movements and you realize this must be what it’s like to be kissed breathlessly. Any moment you get, you’re greedily gulping down air before he continues his ravenous attack on your lips. You never slow the speed of your hand and press yourself against his side, trying to feel more of him to satiate your need. Frank tries to break the kiss but you push against him harder, not wanting to let go for a second. But he tries again, grabbing your wrist gently and you immediately pull away with a frown.

“What did I do?” you ask in a worried tone. He’s quick to lock his eyes with yours and speaks clearly.

“You’re okay. You’re doing so good, sweetheart,” he starts, and then nods down towards his lap. “I’m almost there, kid. Just wanted to warn you before it happens.” And just like that, a wide grin splits across your face. I’m making him feel that good?!

“I really wanna make you come, Frank,” you tell him honestly and you notice his cock twitch slightly as he registers your words.

“You keep talking like that and you will,” he grumbles in a low voice. His tone almost seems as if it was meant as a warning, but all it does is add to the fire in the pit of your stomach. You’re quick to reach for him again and fall back into the rhythm you established just seconds ago. With each pass of your hand you feel the veins protruding slightly through his skin and make sure to add slightly more pressure to the ring underneath his tip—he seemed to like that in particular.

“Just like that—fuck, attagirl,” he breathes through gritted teeth while he stares down at your smaller fingers wrapped snugly around him. The praise courses through you and you hide your face in his neck. You place sloppy kisses under his jaw and listen as more grunts start to fall from his parted lips. They slowly twist into a new sound and it takes you a second to realize it’s your name that’s coming out in a twisted groan. You glance down and watch as he raises his hips for a moment to chase after the feeling of you, his orgasm following soon after.

One long moan falls from him as warmth spills over your hands. You make sure not to miss a single second and don’t dare slow down or pull away. You want Frank to feel as good as possible and so you’ll drag this out for as long as you can. White begins to coat his head and the rest of his length as you continue moving over him. It isn’t until he reaches for your wrist that you take notice of the way his thigh is tense and you let go to give him some relief.

“T…That’s enough,” he pants as he speaks through uneven breathing. You mumble an apology as you snuggle into his side again, leaving the remainder of your kisses on his collarbone. His hand rubs at your back while he regains his breath and you feel him press his lips to your forehead.

“Jesus Christ,” he whispers, and you follow his gaze to the mess in his lap. His cock lies on his hip, all spent and giving a weak twitch once or twice. You don’t even try to hide the smile that grows on your face at the sight.

“Oh, you proud of yourself, huh?” he asks through a fit of chuckles. “You should be,” he holds you to his side again. “Did so fuckin’ good.” You feel another long kiss to the side of your head. Pride isn’t even a strong enough word to describe how you feel at this moment.

“Thank you, Frank,” you smile up at him.

“Thank me? Nah, you did all that,” he brushes it off just like last time. “Thank you for making me feel good, kid. You were absolutely perfect.” The warmth spreading to your cheeks makes you hide your face in his chest again. You weren’t really sure how a scene like this was supposed to normally end, but Frank doesn’t say anything more. He keeps you close in his arms and you can still hear his pulse attempting to slow in his chest. For now, you don’t want to question what comes next; for once, you’re comfortable exactly where you are.

Taglist: @chellestrash @avengerstower-houseplant @musicals-and-mermaids @castle-of-ruin @justalittlepickle @boo8008 @doublevirgogirl @xxdrixx @yaminax @nabiiturner @imwaytoolazyforthis @vechkinfan @himesuedi @0-goblin-0 @soleilcastle @innebulae @punishersmainchick @eddiemunsonsbelover @tea-drinking-nerd

#new writing record WOOO! i just couldn't shut the hell up :)#frank castle x reader #frank castle smut #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle fic #jon bernthal fanfiction #jon bernthal fic #the punisher fanfiction #the punisher fanfic #chelsea writes

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cllightning81 · 4 months ago

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Set Up [CL16]

Summary: You meet Daniel Ricciardo at a Red Bull athlete sponsor event and become friends. When you finally accept his offer to go to a Grand Prix, he sets you up on a date with a fellow driver.

Pairing/s: Daniel Ricciardo x Australian!Red Bull Athlete!Reader (Platonic), Charles Leclerc x Australian!Red Bull Athlete! Reader

A/N: Had the idea that the reader is a speed skater because why not. However there's only one slight mention of that at the end so you can imagine the reader to be any athlete.

Word Count: 1.4k

Masterlist Charles Leclerc Masterlist Tag List Coming Soon

Public events were always the worst, but that came with being an athlete for Red Bull. It was yet another one of their sponsor events that all athletes had to attend so here you were in a fancy black tie dress surrounded by lots of sponsors and lots of other athletes that also probably didn’t want to be there.

The dark blue dress hugged your figure in just all the places that it needed to. Accepting a flute of champagne from the server walking around the room, you settled down at your table in front of your name place. Looking at the names around the rest of the table ,you sighed as you didn’t recognise any of them.

Ten minutes later, people started sitting around the table. The names on the table help you find out their names without having to have an awkward conversation. Scotty James was the first person to sit down. Now that you’d seen his face, you knew who he was. You’d spoken to him a few times at past events.

“Oh hey Y/N” He smiled, and you looked over

“Evening Scotty. No wife this time?” You asked, and he shook his head

“No, she's at home. Wasn’t interested in another one of these events” You nodded while taking a drink of champagne. More people started to sit down, and throughout the night, you started hitting it off with Daniel Ricciardo.

~~~

A few months after the event, Daniel had invited you to watch a Grand Prix after staying in touch. Being a Red Bull athlete meant that cameras were on you from the second you walked into the paddock. Daniel is waiting at the side for you with his signature smile

“Y/N L/N” He cheered, holding out the syllables as he walked over. You smiled, giving him a hug

“Daniel Ricciardo” You laughed while walking with him.

“So I’ve been thinking” Daniel hummed, and you turned your head to look at him

“That’s not a good thing” You joked, and he rolled his eyes

“You were complaining the other day that you saw some tyres getting more attention than you have recently, but I came up with a plan” You raised an eyebrow, looking at him

“That doesn’t sound like a good idea, and I don’t even know what it is” You muttered, and he laughed

“I’ve got a friend. He’s also a driver, but he’s also very single, and I think you’d be a perfect match together” He explained

“I am not going out with Lando Norris” You warned, and he laughed

“No it’s not Lando” He shook his head

“You got Max and Kelly to break up?” You joked, and he rolled his eyes, walking into the garage with you

“I did not. Do you trust me, though?” He asked, and you looked at him sceptically

“Not really no” You shrugged

“Never mind I’ll take my date back then” You rolled your eyes

“Who’s this date with then?” You asked

“You’ll see. You don’t happen to have that dress from the night we met, do you?” He asked

“No, not in Monaco” You shook your head

“Do you have any like that in Monaco?” He asked

“Kinda? I’ve got a red version of it. Well it’s not similar in any way, but I’ve got a red long dress in my apartment. But the blue one’s back in Melbourne” You shrugged

“Wear the red dress then. You’ll be picked up at seven tonight. That’s all I’m saying”

“You don’t even know where I stay?” You frowned

“I was hoping you’d tell me that detail” You laughed, shaking your head.

And so at seven o’clock there was a knock on your apartment door. You grabbed your purse, walking over to the door and pulled it open to see the person you least expected standing at your door. Neither of you said anything as you just looked at each other.

“Woah” He mumbled, causing you to smile slightly

“Woah yourself” You hummed

“You know, when Daniel said he was setting me up, I didn’t know what to expect, but it definitely wasn’t you” He smiled.

“I could say the same thing Charles” You smiled, taking his hand as he held it out for you. You walked down to his Ferrari with him. Smiles covering your faces as he helped you into the car.

“So where are we going tonight, Mr Leclerc?” You asked as he got into the car as well.

“Well I obviously had to find somewhere for both our diets, but there’s a little restaurant that I quite like next to the harbour, so I figured we could go there?” He suggested, and you nodded

“That sounds like a good plan” You smiled, looking over at him before turning to look out the window at the views that were passing. When arriving at the restaurant, Charles got out of the car first before rushing around to help you out. Passing the keys off to a member of staff that would park the car safely for him.

Getting seated was easy. Charles had made reservations asking to be hidden in the back of the restaurant so that you could enjoy yourself without having to have fans asking either of you for autographs or pictures every couple of minutes. Or the worst thing. Fans taking pictures without you realising getting the worst angles. You both ordered your drinks and food, opting for non-alcoholic drinks not even because Charles was driving but because your diets didn’t really allow alcohol.

“So why Monaco?” Charles asked

“I’m actually only here on holiday. I live in the UK” You confessed, and he nodded

“Why Monaco for a holiday then?” He chuckled, and you smiled

“Daniel invited me to the Grand Prix and after meeting him at a Red Bull athlete event. I actually got into the sport, so when he offered, I couldn’t say no. I’d like to end up retiring in Monaco, though. Sell both of my houses and just live here” You explained and he nodded

“It’s lovely here. Although I may be a little biassed but oh well” You let out a laugh

“So you’ve got a house in the UK, but where’s your other?” He asked, leaning back in the chair

“Melbourne obviously” You laughed, and he nodded

“Should have seen that coming” You nodded

“Let me guess. House in Monaco and house in Italy” You guessed

“Spot on. Hotels everywhere else” He nodded, and you chuckled. The conversation flowed easily about your different training and different lifestyles but also things that you had in common.

“I’ve always wanted a dog but with all these competitions and travelling it just never felt right but when I retire in Monaco the first thing I do except find a home is get a dog” You nodded and he chuckled

“Just out of curiosity, what kind of age do people in your sport retire?” He asked, tilting his head a little

“I’ve got about a year left realistically, but I’m aiming to reach the 2026 winter olympics before I retire” You sighed

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to ask it like that” He winced a little, and you shook your head

“No, it wasn’t you. Don’t worry. I just hate that I had to pick a sport that requires such early retirement. I love skating, and I think I’ll always skate, and obviously, going at speed is very enjoyable” You both laughed at the statement

“Maybe we should sign you up for a hot lap. See how you enjoy our kind of fast” You smiled

“I would very much enjoy that. I know for a fact you go about two hundred miles an hour faster than I do” You chuckled, and he frowned

“How fast do you go?” He asked, and you shrugged

“About thirty-five miles an hour? Roughly. Give or take depends on the day, where I’m competing, and who I’m competing against” You shrugged as his eyes widened

“Seriously?” He asked, and you nodded

“Deadly” You smiled

“Maybe I’ll have to come watch you work one day” He smiled, and you tilted your head

“That would be so much fun getting you on the ice with me”

And so you did. During the break between a couple of races, you got Charles onto an ice rink and skating with you. He wasn’t enjoying it as much as you were, but it made for a great second official date. Something you’d never tell Daniel just yet.

Tag List

@thewannabewriter

@lozzamen3

@barcelonaloverf1life

@hiireadstuff

@mxdi0

@f1kenzzz

@evie-119

@ahgase99

@velocesainz @talksoprettyjjx

@scarletwidow3000

@thegrapejuiceblues1982

@jasons-little-princess

@tellybearryyyy @zabwlky1999 @callsignwidow @chocolatepoetryfun @lwstuff @destinyg237

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red-riot-unbreakable-heart · 5 months ago

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5 Times You Stole Eijiro Kirishima’s Hoodie | Part 1: The Convenience Store

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Ship: Eijiro Kirishima x Femme Reader! 💋

Genre: Fluff, Romance, Tension, Hero Situations, Eijiro Kirishima is a Pro Hero

Link to My Master List 😬

5 Times You Stole Eijiro Kirishima’s Hoodie

Part 1: The Convenience Store

It is a rainy Tuesday night and you are absolutely exhausted from work. On your way home to your apartment, you decide to stop by a local bodega for some junk food. You have been looking forward to binge watching a trashy reality TV show all day long, and some potato chips would be the perfect snack to munch on as you enjoy the juicy TV drama.

The bodega’s glass sliding door opens with a squeak as you hastily fold up your dripping umbrella. You shiver as the cool store AC hits your wet skin, and goose bumps flare across your bare arms. The day had started out deceptively warm, and you hadn’t dressed for the weather. You are deeply regretting the choice to wear the navy sleeveless dress that is now clinging to your body and dripping a puddle onto the dull bodega carpet. Oh well – you will be home in just a few minutes and will be able to step into a hot shower soon enough.

You grab a shopping basket and wander the aisles, eager to satiate your cravings for salty crisps. The store is unusually empty for the hour – the sudden rain must have kept most people inside. The only other people present are the elderly cashier, and a man pursuing the energy drinks in one of the freezers. The other patron is keenly focused on a bottle of purple Gatorade - intently reading the ingredient list on the drink’s packaging. You pay no attention to this other customer as you locate the snack aisle and load up your basket with chip bags boasting a variety of fun flavors (BBQ chips?? Yes please!). The aisles are tall – stacked ceiling high with boxes and bags containing every flavor of chip one could imagine.

SMASH! A loud crash reverberates throughout the tiny store, followed by the sound of small objects scattering across the vinyl floor. A deep voice booms out: “This is a hold up. Give me all the money in that register. And make it quick – I don’t think either of us wants any trouble.” You freeze; blood running cold in your veins as you quickly put the pieces of the situation together.

“I swear old man – I’ve got a special quirk that will make your life all kinds of painful unless you Hand. Over. The. Cash.”

You move slowly along the aisle, looking for a gap in the snack shelves so you can better assess the situation. Through a small space between cereal boxes, the situation comes into view – the man that you had seen shopping for sports drinks is now standing menacingly over the check out counter. He is around six feet tall with sharp features; a simple black domino mask obscured his eyes. Clad entirely in black, he stands with his right arm gripping the linoleum countertop, the other poised grotesquely above the cashier’s balding head. It takes you a moment to put together exactly what you were seeing – the villain’s right arm was a gigantic crab claw! If the situation weren’t so tense, you would have died from laughter. The scene is ridiculous – the man’s arm (claw) is twice the length of a typical human arm and had a bright, shiny red hue. This kind of mutation quirk always gives you a start – the unnatural way the man’s body blends seamlessly with the extra large claw is uncanny.

The shop cashier looks up at the villain with terror in his eyes. He seems absolutely frozen on the spot as the masked robber clicks his claw menacingly. With a start, you notice that the inside of the claw is wickedly sharp. The villain flashes it dangerously towards the cashier’s neck to drive a sense of urgency.

You assess your options. Your quirk isn’t particularly powerful, but it definitely has some use here. If you could just get a little bit closer to the situation, you could probably use it to distract the villain long enough to get the cashier out of harm’s way. You stretch out your hand to activate your quirk, but stopped dead when you feel a warm, rough hand clamp around your mouth from behind.

You try to scream, but the sound comes out muffled. Adrenaline floods your veins as you prepared to fight for your life. You hadn’t heard someone sneak up behind you, and you squirm in an effort to get away. An arm reaches out to steady you, and it’s owner whispers: “Sorry to startle you – I’m here to help.” The soft, gravely voice sends a fresh wave of goose bumps down your chilled skin. You turn to see one of the year’s top heroes - the Red Riot - crouched over you in the snack aisle. You’d recognize that trademark red spiky hair anywhere. Your body starts to relax a bit – things are under control and a hero is here!

Over the past few years, Red Riot has been making quite a name for himself in the media as a dependable, chivalrous hero. You’ve often watched his battles and rescues play out on the television – not only was he a skilled hero, but also he was kind and genuine. His interviews were your favorite – he always found such nice things to say about his teammates and the people he rescued. And he wasn’t bad to look at either.

He’s clearly not on duty – his usual simple costume has been traded in for a black t-shirt, jeans and a soft red hoodie. Your heart skips a beat. He’s so totally hot. When he realizes you’re not going to scream and give away his position to the villain, he releases you from his embrace. He smiles reassuringly, and the warmth of his grins reaches his eyes.

“I’m going to get you out of this.” He promises.

For a second there, you completely forgot about the convenience store hold up occurring feet away from where the two of you were crouched. Your senses are clouded by the closeness of Red Riot, who is still holding you steady with his muscular arms. When he realizes his touch is lingering a bit longer than necessary, he quickly pulls away. He shifts to peer over your shoulder through the small cereal box window. The movement brings him ever so slightly closer to you, and you find yourself inhaling the sweet scent of clean laundry. You lean the tiniest bit closer to him.

But back to the situation at hand – you can hear the crab clawed villain barking commands at the cashier. He wants all the money from the register as well as a roll of lotto tickets. He must be either extremely overconfident or incredibly good at crime – because this man is taking his time! Red Riot scowls as he watches the scene unfold. You can see his body tensing as he prepares for a confrontation. With a look of determination, he turns to you and whispers “stay quiet and out of sight. I’m going to go distract the villain and try to de-escalate the situation. If things get physical – run. There’s a dumpling shop across the street – get someone there to call the police.”

His red eyes bore into your own. There’s something so intense and hot about him. You feel a strange connection pulling you closer to this man, closer to the heat of his body.

“W-wait.” You whisper. “I can help!”

You point to the man with the crab claw – he still has the Gatorade bottle in the pocket of his pants. To his left you see a palette of energy drinks waiting to be restocked. “With my quirk I can control small amounts of liquid. I can distract him by levitating all those energy drinks at once. I’ll suspend them in the air and bring them all crashing down on top of him, giving you time to get the cashier out of harm’s way.”

Red Riot smiles appreciatively. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m afraid I can’t ask you to put yourself in danger like that. I’ll handle this on my own. Just keep quiet and get across the street, okay?”

You make a face. You don’t understand why he won’t let you help. After all, the villain seems untrained and unfocused. His claw hand can’t do much damage to a bunch of small, moving targets.

“Trust me.” Red Riot reaches for your hand. He places the pads of your fingers on his palm. You can feel him activating his hardening quirk beneath your fingers as his skin slowly becomes rougher. “I was built for this.”

You nod, unable to argue. His quirk makes his skin feel smooth and strong like the bark of an oak tree. You press your fingers lightly into the center of his hand, but there’s no give. Reflexively, he closes his fingers around your own, causing electricity to shoot through your hand at the intimate touch. Red Riot’s eyes widen, an apology already at his lips. You quickly slip your hand out from his grasp.

“Good luck, Red Riot.” You tap the hardened skin on his forearm. “You’re right – definitely built for this.”

He grins, seemingly basking in the compliment.

“That’s right – just leave this to me!” He whispers back. “Stay safe, okay?”

Red Riot army crawls down the aisle. You watch as he slowly steps out from behind the shelves and approaches the counter confidently, grabbing a bag of BBQ chips on the way. The poor cashier is now filling a grocery bag with money from the register as the crab armed villain hulks over him, sneering and clicking his claw. The villain doesn’t even seem to hear Red Riot approaching him from behind.

In two strides, Red Riot closes the distance and reaches out to tap the villain on his crabby shoulder.

“Excuse me, sir. I’m going to have to ask you to step away from the counter. Other people want to check out.” As he says this, he pointedly tosses his bag of chips onto the shiny linoleum counter.

The crab villain whirls around, face full of fury. His eyes widen and his face contorts in fury when he realizes whom he’s talking to. The villain wastes no time – he propels himself away from the counter, whirling his deadly sharp arm towards Red Riot.

Crack!

The arm makes contact with Red Riot’s rock hard skin. The hero smiles smugly, his right arm taking the brunt of the blow.

“Why don’t we take this down a notch, sir? I’m clearly a match for your quirk, and the police are already on their way. There’s no need to fight, we can just talk - ”

The villain moves surprisingly swiftly, shifting around Red Riot’s outstretched arm and reaching to position his claw around Red Riot’s neck. The hero’s facial expression shifts to surprise – he wasn’t expecting a villain with such a cumbersome quirk to be able to move so languidly. The crab villain slowly starts to press down his claw around the hero’s neck. Red Riot is making a face that clearly says “Oh, shit.”

You turn and desperately reach your hand through the gap in the cereal box display, pointing your fingertips at the villain and willing your Quirk to activate. Almost instantly, the Gatorade bottle resting half full in the villain’s back pocket lifts into the air as all of the liquid rushes towards the top of the container. You focus all of your concentration on the bottle.

Unfortunately, you never had a lot of opportunity to train and refine your quirk as you had pursued an educational track that prioritized tech and computer skills over quirk competence. However, you had a grasp on the fundamentals of how your quirk worked – and you figured if you could just distract the crab villain for a moment, you could give Red Riot a chance to regroup.

The villain pressed his sharp claw further around Red Riot’s neck. You could hear an ominous cracking notice – and you hoped desperately that the sound wasn’t the hero’s thick skin crumbling beneath his assailant’s grasp. You began to feel a sickening mix of adrenaline and fear coursing through your veins and you try to renew your concentration. The liquid inside the bottle begins to boil – the water fizzing and popping in the small confined space. You shakily will the bottle to float up and behind the villain’s head.

Red Riot uses his hardened hands to try to break the villain’s grasp, but the crabby grip holds fast. The villain is intensely focused on trying to crush Red Riot’s windpipe, and so he is completely taken by surprise when the bottle of Gatorade explodes and hits the back of his head with a splash of scalding purple liquid. The villain howls in pain – both hands reflexively flying to cradle the back of his burned head. In his pain and fury, he unwittingly releases Red Riot from his grasp. The red headed hero is quick to take advantage of the situation – dropping to the ground and sweeping a strong leg beneath the villain’s own. The crab-clawed villain comes crashing to the ground with a large “thud.”

Red Riot wastes no time, dropping on top of the villain to pin disproportionate arms to the ground.

“Sir, you’re under arrest for armed robbery and for engaging in combat with a licensed hero. The police will be here shortly to take your statement - but in the meantime please stop resisting.”

You breathe a sigh of relief as Red Riot continues to hold the villain tightly to the ground. Behind the counter’s register, the convenience store clerk still stands frozen, holding a wad of bills in bills in a vice-like grip.

You hear the metallic slide of the store’s automatic doors followed by several pairs of heavy boots off to your right. Within a few seconds, a team of police officers comes into view, their starched blue shirts bright in the florescent lighting.

At the sight of the police, the crab villain finally seems to give up fighting – his body sagging to the ground beneath Red Riot. The hero holds his position, eyeing the villain’s mutant arm warily. Even from a distance, you can tell his hardening quirk is still activated – he isn’t taking any chances.

“Great job, Red Riot! We’ll take it from here.” A tall officer with a glinting badge steps forward and uses a length of metal cord to bind the villain’s large clawed arm. “We’ve been after this guy for weeks!”

Red Riot smiles as he steps back and lets the police team capture his assailant. He turns and meets your eyes through the space in the cereal box wall. He grins at you, his dark eyes wink a quick “thanks” in your direction as he detectives whisk him away for questioning.

“Miss – are you alright?” You let out a small squeak of surprise, turning to find a short female officer with a tight bun of dark hair coming around the corner of the aisle. You look down at yourself – crouching like a wild animal in a soggy, rain-drenched dress.

“I’ve definitely had better days.” You laugh, allowing the policewoman to help you to your feet. You feel the adrenaline slowly start to melt away, leaving you feeling shaky and a bit lightheaded. You can’t think of the last time you used your quirk, so you’re sure the little stunt you pulled to save Red Riot has impacted your stamina.

“Mind if we ask you a few questions about what happened here?” The officer asks, motioning for you to follow her to the front of the store where the crab villain is being checked for weapons.

“No, not at all!” You wrap your arms around yourself and attempt to bring some warmth back into your body.

The police had a lot of questions. Apparently this villain had been evading them for quite sometime. He had been robbing convenience stores across several cities. He was quick, efficient, and sometimes even deadly – having injured half a dozen clerks and store patrons in his mad pursuit of cash.

“We heard that you used your quirk to get Red Riot out of a spot of trouble.” The policewoman with the bun taps a pen to a pad of paper thoughtfully. Her tone isn’t accusatory; she’s just stating facts. “The unsanctioned use of a quirk in combat is illegal, but since you were put in a potentially life threatening situation and you were in under the supervision of a pro hero, the Good Samaritan law should cover your actions today.”

You feel the last bit of energy absolutely drain out of you and you reach out to grab a nearby store shelf for support. Illegal? The thought of breaking the law hadn’t even crossed your mind. You had just acted on pure instinct when you saw Red Riot in trouble. You start to shiver more violently as the weight of what you’ve done fully sinks in. The policewoman quickly waves to another officer and you find yourself being guided to a chair.

“Miss - it seems like you’re in shock. Please take some deep breaths and we’ll get you to a hospital shortly to get checked out, alright?” The officer pats your hand kindly and pockets her notepad. She walks out of view to call a medical team with her colleagues and you are momentarily left alone in the corner of the store. You stare at the ground, your head feeling fuzzy and cold. It was so stupid to use your quirk so recklessly like that! You admonish yourself silently. You’re sure that Red Riot could have gotten himself out of that bad situation given time – he was a top hero after all! You were just so worried and eager to help…

A soft material engulfs your shoulders. “You’re freezing! Here – take my sweatshirt.” You turn and see Red Riot standing behind you, his strong hands pressing his large red hoodie around your shoulders. He smooths the plush material around you, and you shiver at the contact.

“I couldn’t possibly take this!” You said weakly despite your body hungrily leaning into the warmth of his touch and the offered piece of clothing.

“It’s too late – it’s already yours. Consider it a thank you for saving me back there.” Red Riot grins, showing off a row of pointed teeth. You gratefully accept the gift – tucking your arms into the floppy sleeves. You’re practically swimming in sweatshirt.

“I really shouldn’t have done that.” You look down, ashamed. “You had the situation under control, and it was irresponsible to use my quirk like that. You even told me not to help earlier.” You shake your head, and then blush when you realize you’re probably showering the chivalrous hero in raindrops.

“Don’t beat yourself up about that at all! While it’s true that a Pro can always break out of a tough spot, someone once told me that ‘meddling where you don’t need to is the essence of a hero.’ You moved without thinking to help me when I needed it. That took guts.” His grin widens. “I’m so lucky that such a strong person was looking out for me from the cereal section.”

You laugh, cheeks blushing at the compliment. He’s just so…handsome, grinning roguishly at you with his deep, dark eyes.

“Your quirk is really strong, too. What was that – liquid manipulation? Have you ever trained your quirk?” You’re taken aback by the sincerity of his interest in your small little quirk.

“Not really – I had the standard quirk class in elementary school where we are evaluated and learn how to control the basics of each of our quirks. Beyond that, I never had much interest in it. I can make small amounts of liquid float, boil and freeze. It’s not particularly powerful, but I can make a mean pot of soup with it.” You smile, appreciating the attention you’re receiving from the hero. “I went to a specialty high school focused on business and marketing, so I pretty much avoided any quirk training or hero-focused track. Exploding that little Gatorade bottle was probably the crux of my power.”

“Well it was incredible! I feel like you’re really underselling yourself – I see so much potential in you and your quirk. With just a little training, I think you could really do some damage.” Red Riot says excitedly, talking animatedly with his hands. You laugh, picturing yourself in some ridiculous hero suit parading around the city splashing boiling water on legions of seafood-themed villains.

“Surprisingly, the hero life is just not for me!” You grin before a wave of shivers wracks through your body. Is this from shock? Or is it the damp cold of your rain soaked dress finally catching your attention.

Red Riot instantly notices your discomfort and shakes his head thoughtfully before saying: “Stay here a minute, I have an idea.” He scampers away and you’re left alone again. You focus on taking a few deep, calming breaths as you zip the hoodie up to your chin. You inhale deeply and realize that the red fabric smells comforting and sweet – a combination of mint and cedar wood. You deeply breathe in the scent of Red Riot, and you feel your panic ebb away. You’re steeped in exhaustion as you slouch against the hard plastic chair.

A moment later, Red Riot re-appears, holding a steaming Styrofoam cup. “I made you some peppermint tea.” He says shyly, holding out the hot cup. “It always makes me feel better after a fight – I thought it might do the same for you.”

You take the cup gratefully and tip it back for a sip. He holds out a hand to stop you. “Careful, it’s hot. Give it a second to cool so you don’t burn your mouth.”

“Thank you so much, Red Riot. I really appreciate all you’ve done today.” You’re too tired to care that you sound like a fan girl.

“Hey, call me Eijiro. After what we’ve been through together, we should be on a first name basis.” To your surprise, his cheeks tint pink as he shares his first name. You smile softly and share your own nickname. He repeats it back to you, seeming to like the way your name rolls on his tongue.

“It’s nice to meet you Eijiro.” You feel the warmth of the tea sinking into your icy hands.

“So what were you buying here at the store anyway? Let me go get you a cart and – oh, hold on!” He absentmindedly leans in close to you, reaching out to pull a stray wet strand of hair away from your face. He tucks it gently behind your ear. “We should really get you a hair dryer or something!” He laughs, “You’re still soaking wet!” Despite just having met, the touch is so intimate and familiar. You lean towards him, wanting him to touch you again with his strong, capable hero fingertips.

“Red Riot – the press is outside waiting to interview you.” A police officer calls over, snapping you both back to reality. “They’re eager to hear about how you apprehended the villain. For the sake of her privacy, let’s leave this young lady’s roll in the capture out of it.”

Eijiro snaps to attention, his hand still hovering close to your face. He turns to give the officer a thumbs up. “Sounds good to me! I’ll be right there.”

He moves to look at you again. His eyes are wide and his expression intrigued. “They’re going to take you to the hospital to make sure everything looks okay. They’ll probably keep you overnight for observation until you’re out of shock. I’m sure they’ll take good care of you, cutie.” He stands to walk out of the store. “Thanks for saving my life – I hope to hear from you soon!”

And with a wave, he strides away towards the press team waiting outside. You look down into your tea, confused and quietly delighted at his hope to hear from you. You have absolutely no idea how you would ever contact him again, but the sentiment and the term of endearment he had used is sweet. Ever the chivalrous hero.

The next few hours are a whirlwind of tests and scans and interviews with police officers and doctors alike. Despite your protests, an ambulance whisks you away to the closest hospital and you are kept under observation just as Red Riot - Eijiro - had predicted. The staff is courteous and sweet, praising you for your roll in the incident when the police officers tip them off. You’re given comfortable clothes to borrow and access to a hot shower adjacent to your hospital room.

When you finally sink into the hospital bed, it’s pitch black outside. You flick on the grainy old TV that’s mounted above your bed and flick through the channels until you stop to see a familiar face on the local news.

Red Riot is smiling down at you from the TV set, his eyes warm as he answers the questions of various reporters.

“I was just shopping for some ramen when I noticed the villain. Weird coincidence that I just happened to be at the same store as him!” The hero laughs, rubbing his hand behind his head. “I’m thankful to the store patrons and the clerk who stayed calm as I handled the situation.”

“Red Riot – did you have any difficulty subduing the victim?”

Eijiro pauses to think for a moment before carefully saying “There was a moment that he had the drop on me, but a really cute shopper distracted him for me and allowed me to get the upper hand.”

“You’re so humble, Red Riot. I’m sure you had everything under control.”

Eijiro shakes his head. “I don’t want to encourage recklessness, but I do want to make it clear that you don’t need to be a Pro to be someone’s hero. The woman who helped me today – her bravery and willingness to act even when things were scary is what true heroism looks like. I’m grateful to her, and I hope that I’ll be able to see her again soon.”

The reporters continue to fawn over Red Riot for a few more minutes – peppering him with more questions that he cheekily answers. He avoids revealing any additional details about you despite the reporter’s needling and prodding. Soon the news broadcast ends, and the anchor appears on screen and starts discussing upcoming movie releases.

You sit with your mouth gaping open. Had you really made such a lasting impression on the sturdy hero? You feel your heartbeat increase at the thought, causing the heart monitors strapped to your chest to peep and whir. A nurse appears at your side in an instant, and you bashfully explain to her that you are fine – just a bit overexcited from the day’s events. Once she is assuaged, you return to flipping through channels before settling on reruns of The Bachelor. This wasn’t the soapy TV series you had been looking forward to all day, but it was as close as you are going to get at this point. You let the show run and before long you are dozing in the propped up hospital bed, dreaming of seafood villains and heroes with bright hair and dark, endless eyes.

When you’re finally ready to check out from the hospital the next day, the nurse at the front desk presents you with your belongings. Your wallet, your high heeled work shoes, and an extra large bright red hoodie. “Oh – I forgot about this.” You gratefully accept the sweatshirt and shrug it on. It swings around you like a trench coat, fluffy and warm. You can still smell traces of cedar wood on the collar.

You walk out of the hospital and into a surprisingly sunny day, metallic sliding doors parting for you as you exit. You sink your hands into the hoodie’s overlarge pockets and are surprised to feel a rectangular square object tucked into the deep right pocket. Had Eijiro left a piece of gum in his hoodie? You fish it out with your index and pointer fingers – it’s a small folded up piece of paper ripped from a notepad. Upon closer inspection, you notice that it’s branded with the convenience store’s faded logo. You guess it was ripped from the clerk’s register notepad.

Curious, you unfold the small wad of paper. Written hastily across the note is a messy scrawl of digits and the words: Would love to take you to dinner some time, cutie. Thanks for rescuing me. – Eijiro.

Oh my God. He gave you his number. A warm blush creeps up your face as your eyes run across the note over and over again. What a crazy 24 hours it has been! You reach into your purse to grab your phone. With shaky hands you add “Eijiro Kirishima” as a contact in your phone, adding a few rock emojis and a bright red crab emoji beside his name. He’d probably find that hilarious.

You draft up a fresh text to the red headed hero and type: “In need of rescuing tonight – the villain: hunger and boredom. In need of a hero who knows the perfect ramen spot.” You hit send and hold your breath. What if he’s on patrol tonight? You worry. What if he was just being nice and doesn’t actually see you again?

Your worries are totally baseless, because within seconds you have a reply: “I’m more than up for this mission – meet me in front of the convenience store at 8. Wear the sweatshirt so I’ll recognize you in the crowd?” He ends it with a winking emoji and your heartbeat quickens. You officially have a date set with Eijiro Kirishima – the Red Riot.

Your hero.

Thanks so much for reading!!!

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

Other Kirishima Stories:

Headcannon: Kirishima LOVES wearing Bakugo's clothes.

🦈❤️Boyfriend!Kirishima ❤️🦈

A Long, *Hard* Night with Eijiro Kirishima (A18+ - MDNI!!!) 💋

Link to My Master List 😬

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mayearies · 1 year ago

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SPIDERMAN CLASSIC …. miles morales ⟡

… ꒰ঌ ໒꒱

#MILESMORALES brooklyn’s one and only spiderman!

⟡ genre: fluff | warnings: platonic/romantic pov, implied aged up જ⁀➴ note!: first time actually using miles as a graphic wow also hype up my 1610 fics more damn

the large metal doors shut behind you as the music became muffled. your makeup was nicely done, your dress beautiful, but not for the one it was intended to be seen by.

yup. you got stood up at prom.

he was this guy you liked, you considered a friend. and he stood you up. the grey message from your screen illuminated on your face as you leaned against the alleyway. you were disappointed, yeah. but nothing to cry about. the thing to cry about is how humiliating it was.

you left after a few drinks, you friends toning down your sadness. but it didn’t last long. you just wish-

“hey!”

“wh-?!”

well, this was a surprise. here laid infront of you was the infamous spiderman who saved your city every day. or spiderman 2, most people called him. the only thing different was he was wearing a suit with a bowtie and flowers. and it matched your dress. coincidence? also he was upside down. that’s normal.

“spiderman?”

“yeah! that’s me,” he rubbed the nape of his neck “sorry, is it weird to see me out of character like this?”

“more or less. why are you so dressed up?”

“long story short— i’m finding a prom date last minute.”

that was both true and a lie. the boy behind the mask was finding a prom date last minute, yeah, but it was purposeful in a way. you could have swore he was younger. he sounded like a freshman or sophomore to you.

“um.. yeah. that’s all im really in for. what are you doin’ out here? arent you cold?”

“a little. i got stood up tonight by my date. sucks, huh?”

he nodded like he didn’t know. you didnt hear it from me, but, that was no mistake. he webbed the guy to a nearby alleyway a few blocks down. apparently he had been that pickpocket going around all throughout this week.

a win is a win in miles’ eyes.

“…would you like to be my date? you can say no of course i was just asking-!”

“that.. would be nice. amazing, actually.”

his lenses went wide, taking up most of his mask which was pretty cute. underneath, he could feel his face warming up. and not because he was upside down.

“really?”

“yeah! then i can brag to my friends how i went to prom with spiderman or something, it would be fun.”

“.. would you go with me if you knew who was under this mask?”

“mmm. depends. you seem sweet. my parents say you’re a jerk. you know, that week that rhino destroyed my dad’s car and blamed you? i saw the whole thing so i thought different.”

his face was heating up more, definately not because he wasn’t right side up.

truth was, miles may have been stalking you for a while. he liked you a lot but was too shy to directly confront you, so he watched from the sidelines. found out everything you liked. everything you loved. he just wishes he was a part of that list.

“also, you sound familiar. have we met?”

“what? nonononono- i’ve never seen you in my life!”

“uh huh.”

you did wonder who was underneath, now. you never suspected it would have been someone you knew, but the drastic change in tone once he dropped the fake deep voice made you wonder.

you wanted to pull his mask above his eyes to see if you did know him, but he waved his hands at the point where it reached over his nose. he seemed like a really shy guy, despite him being the hero of brooklyn.

you hummed in contentless, “well, my friends might hear an earful from me about this encounter. and how i’m going to be dancing with the savior of new york. so thanks for that, spidey.”

you gave him a small kiss on the cheek and he froze, fully expecting a kiss on the lips. peter told him about this whole ‘spiderman kiss’ thing and he wanted to try it. its how he won over mj, after all.

even if it didn’t turn out the way he hoped.

“woah..”

“didnt expect that?”

“absolutely not!”

afterwards notes: rewrote this twice also hype this up wtf

©hiimayee loves you !

#miles morales #miles g morales #miles morales x reader #across the spiderverse #miles morales blurbs #earth 1610 miles morales #earth 1610 miles morales x reader #spiderman 1610 #miles morales 1610 #earth 1610 #spiderman kiss #1610 miles x reader #miles 1610 #earth 1610 miles fluff #miles morales fic #miles x reader #miles morales fanfiction #miles morales imagine

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 6 months ago

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Winter's King 17

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: I have a house now. One more month until move in.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You leave the queen, stepping into the gales that whip around the outer flap of her tent. You reach to keep your cap from flying into the violent winds, the soldiers with their chins down as they lean against the force. Before you can gain your bearings, a shadow appears and calls your name, battling the weather to be heard.

“Eh, where is your cloak, silly mouse? You will blow away with the leaves,” Bryce approaches, latching onto your arm as the bluster swirls around you, nearly taking you off your feet.

“I am fine, sir, I only need find a blanket,” you stumble against him as another willful gust pushes you around.

“That isn’t what I asked. What has happened to it? You’ve lost it?”

“The queen was cold, sir,” you answer and cling to him, shivering as the tempest swirls around you.

“The queen... greedy...” his voice trails off as her sneers towards the tent.

“Sir,” you touch his arm gently to calm him, “she needs it more than I. She is expecting the king’s child.”

He looks at you and juts out his jaw, “aye, s’pose you’re right, even if you’re too kind for yer own good.”

He turns you and grips you tightly, shielding you as best he can against the wind. Your progress is slow and stunted by the sudden ebbs and flows. He grunts as you stagger and steadies you, at times almost lifting you off your feet.

“Sir Bryce,” a deep voice slices through the whistle of the winds, “a storm approaches.”

The king nears, his sword gripped by the pommel as he leans it against hit shoulder. His golden eyes flick towards you, as if he had not seen you in the shadow of your escort. He raises his chin and returns his attention to the soldier. He angles his blade to the ground and the tip buries in the dirt.

“Aye, it surely does,” Bryce agrees, “I’ve seen a worst tempest in my years.”

“Sir,” Geralt holds out his hands and a glisten appears on his sleeve. You lean in without a thought, curious, then feel a cold speck on your nose. You look up and see the white flakes drifting down. “It will not remain so peaceful. It comes from the north and will deepen by morning.”

“Shall we wake the camp?” Bryce asks and you sway with the wind. Once more, the king’s attention strays to you, he frowns.

“Not as yet. Let the horses rest a little longer. They will be able to handle a dusting,” he affirms. “but I will harry the men to prepare for our departure.”

“As will I. I’ll be certain the carts are covered and weighted.”

“Sir, ever wise,” King Geralt praises and scowls at you. He shakes his head and huffs, “why does the maid wear no cloak? She will not survive in this, summer soul, she is.”

“Aye, yes, I was only just telling her as much. Seems her heart is too big for her thin hide,” Bryce tuts, “we were only off to find her a blanket before she sleeps.”

“Blanket, eh,” the king lets go of his blade, letting it stand in the ground. He unbuckles his collar and sweeps his cloak from around his shoulder, “I have my hunting cloak and I don’t mind the snow so much.”

Before you can react, the king lays his heavy cloak over your shoulders. It is longer than your height requires and it smells of sweat and iron. You lower your head at the warmth clinging to the lined wool.

“Your highness, many thanks, but I might find a blanket--”

“Do not defy your king,” Bryce rebukes, “mouse, you would do well to accept his grace. You will certainly need it if these winds do not pass.”

“Apologies,” you utter, “sir, your highness, you are both generous.”

King Geralt grumbles and nods, looking once more to the sky as he grabs his sword.

“The Ridge, Vulture’s Peak... it isn’t far. The castle will do, eh?”

“Not far at all, your highness,” Bryce agrees. “It would do you well to let your wife rest. Many congratulations, my king.”

“Congratulations? For what? Smelling a storm?” the king furrows his brow.

“Oi, I think I’ve said too much,” Bryce glances at you.

“Say more,” the king commands. The soldier sighs and sheepishly shows his teeth.

“Please, maid, would ya...” He mutters.

“Your highness, the queen said she is with child,” you swallow, “I only just came from her tent. I believed you were aware. I did not mean to gossip.”

“Child,” his eyes sink and close. He hums and heaves a deep breath, “yes, she would need to be still a time.”

“Your highness, again, you have my apologies--”

“No matter,” the king waves his hand. “Take the maid, I shall see to my wife.”

The king resumes his path onward, sword in hand. He hardly shares in Jazlene’s cheer for the news. Perhaps it is only the threat of the storm that has him unhappy.

You bring your hands to the dark fur along the collar of the cloak and draw it snug. You chatter and Bryce clucks. He nudges you and you walk forward in step.

“So the snows have come,” Bryce declares, “along with the heir. I sense many storms brewing, mouse. Best keep our eyes on the horizon.”

⚔️

You don’t sleep for long, if at all. Only the shallow dregs of your anticipation. You watch the snow fall from beneath the canopy and as the horses are roused and fed before dawn, a carpet coats the ground.

You peer down at the powder. You wonder what it feels like. Cold and wet, Bryce says, but don’t dirty your soles, you’ll be soaked. He remains, as ever, cynical.

“Be off soon,” he says as he brings Daisy around, a thick coat over her back and haunches.

“To Vulture’s Peak?” You ask.

“Aye, so we will,” he pets Daisy’s snout as she sniffs him. “though our host may not be so fond to have us.”

“Host? It is not the king’s castle?”

“Ha, no, no,” Bryce laughs heartily, “a king can’t live on a desolate bluff. By fealty, a lord must break bread and offer a roof to his king. It might be his company which has him facing a cold welcome.”

“Oh,” you frown.

“Ah, even this old coot won’t deny us in the coming storm. He has sense of these better than any,” Bryce shrugs. “Don’t worry your head. You stay in your cart and Daisy will do the rest. She’s a fine climber--”

“Out of my way!” The curdling snarl interrupts the soldier and you both look to see the source. “Move, by gods, I am the queen, be away from me.”

You get to your knees, leaning on the edge of the wagon to see out from under the canopy. A scatter of bodies split apart as Queen Jazlene struts through, the fur cloak rippling from her shoulders and the hood set back on her head as her curls spill out. She sneers at the snow beneath her slippers.

“Ah, I did hear there was a cart around here—ugh, out,” she points as she marches up to the cart, “by royal right, I am seizing this cart.”

“Eh,” Bryce moves closer, “your highness, the king--”

“I cannot sit a horse, sir,” she rests her gloved hand over her stomach. “Or would you murder the future prince with your selfishness. All for a--” she pauses and glowers over at you, rolling her eyes. “A maid?”

You rise and snatch up the cloak you’d used as a blanket. You keep bent under the low canopy and climb out with the cushion under your arm.

“Sir, the queen is right, she should have the cart, I will sit with the luggage.”

He huffs and sends a grimace to the sky, unable to direct his malice towards its source, “if she must...”

“I must!” The queen snaps and yanks the pillow from your hands, “I will need this, certainly.”

You stand aside, staring at the pillow dolefully, and buckle the top of your cloak. The queen pauses as she faces you. She looks you up and down.

“Where did you find this then?” She touches the collar of the cloak.

“It is my spare cloak,” Bryce insists before you can answer, “what else do you require, your highness? Shall we bring a lamb to sacrifice?”

“Hm, is that how you northerners worship?” She sneers, missing his irony.

He blinks dully and says nothing.

“Well, secure the horse, I will need to be drawn.”

“It is my horse,” Bryce insists, “you may bridle your own.”

“You dare deny me?” She snarls at him as the soldiers with her stand on either side of the cart.

“You may take it up with your husband. This is my steed, she carried me to war and she will carry me henceforth,” he snips.

Bryce and Jazlene glare at each other. You look between them nervously. You don’t know who King Geralt might choose in this battle should he be called.

“Fine, fetch the stinky thing,” Jazlene demands of one of the soldiers, “and blankets, another pillow, perhaps something to eat.”

The cast of the sky shifts with the first light of the sun and Bryce grabs both horses and leads them aside. He whistles for you to follow. You come to him as Chestnut and Daisy cluelessly puff into the cold air.

“You will ride. I will not have that... queen seizing my horse,” he sniffs, “I will show you how once I’ve saddled the mare.”

“Oh, yes, sir.” You look up at the horses back. It seems very high.

“You will want to be aback anyhow,” he shrugs, “you’ll not want to miss the mountain. It is very beautiful, especially in the snow.”

⚔️

The party continues onward, treacherously. As the snow falls, the train diverts away from the flats and onto the narrow paths speckled with broken trunks and towering trees. The smell of pine tickles your nose as you ascend, bit by bit.

It takes some time to grow used to the motion of the horse. Daisy’s hooves are certain and she does not slip on even the most precarious spots. Bryce rides behind you, booming about each nook and cranny, pointing out the white rabbits and the wilted fauna. His enthusiasm is unexpected but endearing.

You ride until the moon replaces the sun and dismount along the side of the great cliff. There is no room here to pitch a tent and only a few fires burn along the ridge. Your hips ache as the soldier grunts about his back.

“I should see to the queen,” you suggest as you rub your hands together.

“She must have many fawning over her,” Bryce spits out a wad of leaves and squashes it under his feet.

“I am her maid--”

“And we are on a long road. She might go without you minding her temper,” he snarls.

You frown, “I am not upset. She needs the cart more than me.”

“It isn’t that which sees me chagrined,” he growls. “It’s those deeds you will not admit of that traitor’s daughter which make me prickle.”

You’re quiet. You look away, your eyes wandering up into the sky, watching the snow swirl down, following it down to the ground far below. The heaps are immaculate in the moonlight and the trim of white along the ridge gleams.

“I am a maid.”

“I know little of your summer people but if that is how they treat those who serve them, perhaps this alliance was not so wise,” he grumbles as he steps up beside you, “perhaps it would’ve been better to submit such cruel nobles.”

“Sir,” you say, shocked and peer over at his profile. His beard has grown to meet his cloak, his hair coiling down to his shoulders.

“I serve my king, as I ever will, but I will not bend the knees to a snake,” he hisses and crosses his arms.

“We are united, aren’t we? Summer and Winter,” you reach to touch his thick hide mitt.

“Aye, yes, I do not seek another battle,” he exhales. “I am only wary of those who may.”

You squint. Your mind returns to Lord Dustan and what he said to his daughter. The heir is their prize, an affirmation of the bounty earned by their betrayal, but also a chain to that very act. To the man they forsook their name for. A man they speak as kindly on as they had their former allies.

“Might I walk?” You draw your hand from his. “My legs are sore.”

“Not too far. And keep your eyes open,” he girds, “and your hands in your cloak. You needn’t frostbite.”

You nod and he turns to you. He pulls up the hood of your cloak and pats your shoulder.

“Tarry too long and I’ll look for you,” he warns.

“Sir,” you shift slowly and step past him.

You trod higher up the incline as you marvel over the edge. Bodies huddles together beneath cloaks and blankets, nestling for warmth against the wall of the cliff. You carry on and stop near a luggage cart, close to the drop. You hold out your hand, letting snow gather in your palm. It is cold, bitterly and painfully cold, but so beautiful. You bring it closer and watch it slowly melt as your hand numbs.

“Do you remember...” the king’s voice drawls over you as his soft steps approach. “What I told you of this place?”

You look at him. He is lit by the moonlight, his golden eyes like stars, and his jaw is bristly with thickening stubble. You bow your head, “your highness, are the bears already asleep in their caves?”

He chuckles, “you do recall,” he praises, “not yet, though they do not come this high.”

“And the wolves? Are they near?”

“They are always prowling,” he says, shifting closer, his arm pressing to yours. He bends slightly to peer straight down, “the elk will be in the forests.” He points to the snowcapped tips of the distant trees, “here, the vultures have their nests. Their eggs,” he curves his hands to show the size, “I made a writ, years ago. It is forbidden to eat the eggs. I always found it quite tragic to desecrate the majestic creatures before they can even be borne. Before they can fly even.”

“Vultures? I’ve never seen one? They are... birds?”

“Yes, birds,” he confirms.

He is silent as he considers his kingdom below. His breath is gritty as it rises and falls. He has much to think on. A child, a wife, and his homecoming delayed by a storm.

“One thing has changed here, in these lands of winter,” he says lowly and you feel a ripple in your cloak. He presses his hand firmly to your back, sliding it along your side to grasp your hip. He moves to stand behind you and brings you close. He wraps his arms around you and rests his chin on your crown, “I said before, there is no summer here,” he holds you, pulling his cloak around you, concealing you within it as he drapes himself around you, “summer is here. With me. Warm and gentle.”

You go rigid as he holds you, your heart beating at the unexpected embrace, at the unseemly contact between you. He hums as he stands with you in the shadows of the cart, so brazenly covert. Anyone might happen upon you and yet they all hide away from the storm.

“Your highness,” you stammer and quiver against him.

“Treasure,” he purrs, “my treasure. The one good thing I’ve brought home...”

You can’t breathe or think. Is he drunk? Confused? What does he mean?

“I--” he begins but the kick of a rock quiets him, the stone bouncing off the cart’s wheel.

A shadow stalks down the precipice towards you and the king detaches, uncovering you from his cloak. He faces the figure as the tramp up the incline. You hear the king shudder as he tickles your back.

“There’s the mouse,” Bryce says as he comes into the moonlight, his brow and jaw set, though he doesn’t look at you. He looks at the king, almost defiant. “You shouldn't be out so long in the cold. Exposed,” he grits, “come, I’ve sparked us a fire.”

King Geralt clears his throat, “thank you, sir.”

“My king,” Bryce says as he beckons to you, “I will keep the maid safe. As you bid.”

#geralt of rivia #dark geralt #dark!geralt #geralt of rivia x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #au #medieval au #winter's king #the witcher

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speedforce-zoomies · 8 months ago

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I’ve seen a lot of posts about the Batfam wearing the others merch recently

So I would like to add for consideration- the ultimate act of acknowledgment from Tim is him adding a sticker of your hero identity on his skateboard (list based roughly in the order he would have met them)

Prior to becoming Robin his skateboard only had stickers of the Batman, Nightwing, Robin, & Batgirl symbols (either NW Dick + R Jason or both for Dick idk if he would but you can’t tell me Dick’s biggest fan wouldn’t have at least consider it lol)

Then he becomes Robin and he slowly starts adding on to it

Oracle & Huntress get stickers added on super quick after their introductions though at the time he might have needed to custom make Oracle’s- maybe Huntress’s as well?

Spoiler hit him in the face with a brick when they first meet so even though he forgave her pretty quick it still takes him a moment to make/add her sticker on. (How long do vigilantes need to be on the scene before people start making merch, do y’all think?)

Impluse gets added on pretty quickly after Tim meets him. Superboy gets added on a while after their meeting because the two annoyed the HECK out of each other when they first met and Tim’s petty like that.

Tim was a bit suspicious when he first met Cass but AS SOON AS he gets over it he’s adding on a sticker. Like immediately.

While he meet Secret before the rest of YJ I’m not sure those meetings would have led him to making a sticker for her but once she joins the team I think he would.

Wonder Girl, Arrowette, & Empress like Impluse, gets their stickers added on pretty soon on after he meets them.

He later makes a custom one for Slobo.

Ray gets one too but not as quickly as the others & both Ray & Slobo get one quicker than Superboy did, relatively. It makes Superboy fume a bit lol in a way he didn’t with the girls lol.

Every time Red Hood is close to get his sticker added he does something that pushes the time table back lol. Sometimes Jason tried adding his own sticker but the skateboard is never where he can find it when he tries.

He added one for Batwoman, BlueBird, & The Question (Reene) because he thinks they’re cool (+ without even realizing that he also felt a communal pull to do so)

It took a bit of time after the whole “I left Gotham in search of Bruce who was lost in the time-stream” thing for things with Damian to settle. Tim added his Robin randomly without any fanfare and Damian pretended he doesn’t care (but he does obnoxiously brag about it when annoyed by Jason to bother him in return)

Tim was MIA & considered dead when Duke became Signal (if I’m recalling correctly) but Dick tells him about The Skateboard and when Tim comes back Dukes already ready and hands him a Signal symbol sticker. Tim is amused and immediately puts it on. Jason is frustrated.

When he starts working with Sparrow he makes one for her.

Also every time Nightwing changes his suit, a new sticker gets added on which makes everyone complain and say they should get more than one sticker if they’ve had more than one suit/super identity.

Tim responds by adding more Nightwing stickers

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kaiijo · 2 years ago

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CAUGHT IN 4K — ITOSHI RIN

pairing: itoshi rin x fem! reader content: based on prompt 5 on this list, one physical description of reader (dimpled cheek), rin’s a lovable jerk and bad at flirting notes: rin has my entire heart <3

There are many things in life that Rin dislikes. Rainy weather. Clingy people. Overly crowded places. His brother — though, admittedly, his relationship with Sae is much more complicated than any other thing on this long list of “Things Itoshi Rin Dislikes.”

There are a few things on the “Things Itoshi Rin Likes” list, including good running shoes, horror movies, and ochazuke with bream. And, at the top of the list, competing for first place, are soccer and you. If he really had to choose, Rin knows that you eke out soccer, which says something.

And Rin’s unwavering love for you is also the main reason for another item on his dislike list: when people ask how you met and got together.

“Come on!” Bachata grins, throwing an arm around your shoulder, beer bottle in his other hand. “Tell it again! It’s such a good story.”

Rin’s glare is withering. “You were there for it.”

“But I like reliving it through the retelling,” Bachira replies.

Isagi smirks. “I want to hear it again too.”

“Me three!” Reo chimes in, and Rin is regretting letting you talk him into inviting his teammates for a get-together with each passing second.

Rin scowled. “All of you were there.”

“Okay, okay,” you say, leaning against Rin on the couch. He instinctively wraps his arm around you tighter, frowning in a way you always tell him is actually pouting. “I’ll do it.”

Bachira and Isagi always made fun of the fact that the only sort of media interaction Rin was ever willing to do were press conferences about the upcoming seasons. “There’s nothing but soccer in that head, huh?” laughed Bachira, and Isagi joined him with a couple of their other teammates snickering. Rin always sneered back, “As if any of you lukewarm fuckers have room to talk.”

But they weren’t wrong; Rin was notorious for brushing off any questions that were not soccer related, fixing an incredibly cold glare at whatever reporter dared to try. But he was typically focused when it came to these press conferences.

“Underlashes Junior,” Shidou said, kicking Rin under the table. Rin snarled at him and Shidou, unbothered, continued, “they asked you a question.”

Rin turned back to the mass of reporters. “Repeat it.”

“Do you think your approach to your gameplay will be any different this season?”

Rin doesn’t even remember what he said, turning his mic on and rattling off something about how his skills will just be even better than last season, eyes not even on the reporter but to another journalist a few people to the left of them. You were waiting patiently to ask whatever question your bosses drafted for you. At first, Rin’s eyes were drawn to your pretty face and the little dimple in your cheek that deepened when you smiled. And his eyes probably would have stayed staring at your face, if not for the necklace hanging around your neck along with your press pass.

Kunigami took the next question and Isagi leaned over the Rin, asking, “What’s up with you today? You’re pretty distracted.”

Rin glances back at the journalist — you — who he had been staring at and he answered, “That’s the ugliest necklace I’ve ever seen.”

Isagi’s jaw dropped as the rest of the reporters and their own teammates grew silent. All eyes turned to you, the only person wearing a necklace noticeable enough from where the soccer team was sat.

Rin’s eyes widened a little. Fuck, he hadn’t turned his fucking mic off. Shidou, Otoya, and Karasu roared with laughter at his expense as Isagi apologized on Rin’s behalf and, on Rin’s other side, Bachira chimed in, “I like your necklace! Very colorful!” with a little thumbs up.

Rin ventured an (admittedly embarrassed) peek at you as you gave Bachira a thumbs up back before your eyes settled on Rin, expression morphing into something he couldn’t read and he couldn’t understand why it bothered him so much. It wasn’t like he hadn’t said stuff before that had garnered disapproval from everyone for being ‘rude’ and ‘unnecessary,’ and he generally didn’t care. But there was something about this instance that had guilt creeping up in his gut.

“You need to go find her and apologize,” was what Reo said immediately when they finished the press conference.

“Can we go watch?” Shidou asked. “Maybe she’ll slap you.”

Rin glared at him and stalked off ahead of his teammates. He wasn’t about to tell them that he had already planned to do that.

You were finishing the last of your notes, standing just outside the venue that had been in when Rin found you. He stopped a few feet beside you, shifting his weight on his feet and running a hand through his hair. The movement caught your attention and you turned to look at him.

Rin couldn’t help but glance down at that necklace. Hideous. Absolutely, positively ugly — an explosion of mismatched beads and tasseled pieces with dried macaroni. Who in their right mind would wear that?

You and Rin stared at each other for a little, and Rin opened and closed his mouth no less than three times, mind in overdrive. He was supposed to say, “I’m sorry for making such a rude comment about your necklace.”

Instead, what came out of his mouth was, “Why the hell would you wear that?”

Your eyebrows raised again in the same way they had when he first said it but to his surprise, you just looked amused. “You don’t think it suits my outfit?”

Rin looked you up and down quickly. Your pantsuit was a nice, neutral color that complimented your skin tone and was tailored well to your body. The rest of your jewelry was simple and classic. “No,” Rin said.

Your mouth twitched into a smile, that dimple returning, and Rin felt his ears heat up. You just hummed and replied, “Not that I need to justify myself to you but this fine piece was handcrafted by my favorite artist.”

“Who would that be?” Who the fuck would make jewelry that ugly?

“My nephew.”

And suddenly, it made sense and Rin felt himself flush, unsure if it was from shame or from your unfettered attention but he found himself mumbling, “I’m sorry about what I said earlier.”

You crossed your arms across your chest and said, “I don’t know if I can forgive you for insulting his hard work.”

Rin frowned and racked his brain for what else to say. What did his teammates say to pretty women when they got in hot water? “Maybe I can take you out to dinner then?” he asked, cringing a little as the words left his mouth.

You snorted, “Hmm, no thanks.” And Rin’s heart sank. You instead said, “Maybe I’ll consider forgiving you if you stop by at my nephew’s birthday this Saturday.”

“Really?” he asked, tone flat.

“He’s a big fan. You’re his favorite player, which I can’t say I necessarily agree with.”

Rin scowled. “Who’s your favorite then?”

You shrugged. “Yoichi Isagi.”

Rin’s scowl only deepened. You stepped closer to him and Rin could smell your perfume and it made him a little weak in the knees. You added, “If you come, maybe we can grab dinner afterwards.”

“Okay,” left his mouth before he could think and you grinned, reaching into your handbag. You pulled out a business card and a pen, scribbling your cell phone number and an address on the back.

You pressed the card against his chest and Rin grabbed it as someone shouted your name from a car. You turned on your heel and called over your shoulder, “I’ll see you Saturday, Itoshi!”

“I still can’t believe you went on a date with him after all of that,” Kunigami says, and you giggle. Rin grunts in disapproval and you just lean up to kiss the underside of his jaw.

His eyes flicker to Isagi, who’s grinning wide. “I never heard that part where you said I’m your favorite player.”

“Yeah, Rin definitely omits that part,” chimes Reo.

“Shut up,” Rin growled.

“Don’t worry, babe,” you say. “You’re still number one in my heart.” Rin rolls his eyes as his teammates chuckle and you snuggle deeper into him. He watches with an embarrassingly fond gaze as you carry on talking with the others, your eyes lighting up, that dimple appearing in your cheek as you laugh.

He may hate the way he comes off in the story of how you met, but he can safely say that he doesn’t regret a single thing.

#itoshi rin x reader #rin itoshi x reader #rin x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock imagines #blue lock scenarios

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seungrem · 6 months ago

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Seonghwa (Ateez) x male!reader

Burying the Hatchet

request ~*+ - masterlist ~*+ - part 1 of ??

summary: Though rival mob bosses separating their territories by north and south, m!reader and Seonghwa frequently bump into each other at socialite events. With tension building up in m!reader’s half of the city, he needs decide whether or not to confide in his connections for support.

( overview: mafiaboss!seonghwa, mafiaboss!reader, both socialites and well known, reader controls the south, seonghwa controls north, associates/goons = mob members, Ricky (zb1) feature because he’s very mob coded, reader is lowkey tsundere, established non-romantic relationship w/ eachother, reader inherits wealth, the park family = seonghwa’s mob group )

( warnings: mentions of plausible violence (guns/fighting), blood, injuries (scrapes/bruises/cuts), hostile personalities, mentions of psychotic/psychopathic behavior, threats, cursing )

emoji code:

🌿 ( long story/series )

-🧸 ( very light fluff )

🫧 ( pieces of angst here and there )

🪐 ( mafia / mob AU )

☁️ ( stands for y/n )

likes, comments, & reblogs r appreciated ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Chatter echoed through a ballroom bustling of attires fit for only the most affluent. If it were up to him, ☁️ would be perched on the mezzanine, people watching until the gala had concluded. Instead, he walked into room preparing a flashy smile to anyone who would have the misfortune of catching his gaze.

“Can I take your jacket for you, sir?”

As ☁️ awaited the host of the gala’s presence, a teenage boy wearing a tuxedo approached him. The boy flinched slightly as ☁️ turned in his direction, ☁️ assuming he was just someone who worked there.

“No- I’ll keep it, thank you. Could you tell me where Ricky is, though?” ☁️ asked, turning his attention back to the crowd of people in the distance.

Though the two were the same age (early 20s), Ricky had made a name for himself apart from his parents- unlike ☁️. The man had the city’s media in a chokehold, with news of his whereabouts and appearances circling weekly. In contrast, ☁️ had inherited his parent’s wealth and “business” after their passing. The public also kept a close eye on him, but for reasons less alluring.

“Last I’ve seen he was on the other side of the room beside the DJ. Here’s your pamphlet.”

“Thank you.” ☁️ replied, him then taking the paper and watching the boy scurry away. He sighed as he flipped through the pages, reading carefully over the guest list and seating arrangements.

‘What the hell is Seonghwa doing here?’ ☁️ muttered to himself before taking a few steps toward the crowd. Recognizing a familiar face slip out of the mass and approach him with a smile, he quickly placed the pamphlet into his suit jacket as he walked.

“☁️, how have you been?” Ricky called out, waving to the man as the two closed the distance in between them. It was then that the two embraced, holding each other for a moment more. ☁️ noticed Ricky’s navy blue suit had a velvet look to it, him feeling the texture as he held onto the man’s forearms.

“I’ve been great, how about you? And what happened to the blonde?” ☁️ responded, smiling and then pointing to Ricky’s hair. The last time that he had seen Ricky, the man had bleached his hair a platinum silver. Now, his raven-black hair was slicked back, with a few strands falling onto his forehead.

“I’ve been better, and my roots grew out so I just dyed it back to a natural color. But listen, before you leave tonight, I’d like to speak to you. In the meantime, you need to do your rounds.”

☁️ huffed, knowing that this meant he had to greet everyone.

“We’ll be fast.” Ricky assured, once again grabbing the man’s arm and escorting him through the crowd.

☁️ smiled, introduced himself, shook hands, and kissed cheeks more times than he remembered that night. Following a conversation with a couple, Ricky led ☁️ out of the crowd, the two now standing for a moment.

“We done?” ☁️ asked, exhaling.

“One more. You aren’t going to like it, but please be respectful. I don’t want my gala to become a war-zone.”

“Is it Seonghwa?”

“Yes. But-“

“Why the hell did you invite him?”

“I do business with him just as I do with you. I’m prompting neutrality.”

“Understandable. But why do I gotta go over to him?”

“Because you two aren’t going to mean-mug each other all night like you did last year. That caused problems, did it not?” Ricky led ☁️ to his table, the two sitting beside one another.

“I don’t even have my guys with me tonight.” ☁️ argued, though he knew was simply delaying the inevitable.

“Neither does he. It’s invitation only this time.” Ricky’s tone was calm and fresh, though firm. ☁️ didn’t want to push his buttons, ultimately deciding to get it over with.

“Alright, let’s go.” ☁️ straightened his tie and stood up, Ricky following.

“Last I saw him he was standing beside the DJ’s stage. Let’s walk behind it.” Ricky said, motioning ☁️ to follow him.

The two tiptoed around the DJ’s elevated setup, emerging on the other side of the room after carefully stepping over wires and boxes.

“There he is. Behave, please.” Ricky whispered after leaning into ☁️.

“Always.” ☁️ muttered back before noticing that Seonghwa had three of his goons around him. The man leaned his back against a column and looked around the ballroom. He wore a bold outfit- a shiny gold top (that exposed some of his cleavage) with a brown fur coat and grey dress pants. His hair was in an up-do with strands hanging in front of his eyes, and silver chains dangled from his neck. ☁️ thought that Seonghwa was insanely hot, especially in this outfit, but would never vocally admit it.

“You said invitation only, Ricky.” ☁️ muttered through his teeth.

“It was... Let’s just make this quick.”

As the two approached Seonghwa, two of his goons noticed and walked over to his side.

“Seonghwa. I’m sure you remember ☁️.” Ricky chirped, hiding his nervousness very well. ☁️ and Seonghwa stared at each other for a few seconds before ☁️ forced a smile and held out his hand.

“I’m sure you’re well.” ☁️ remarked dully, watching as Seonghwa took his hand and squeezed. It took everything in ☁️ not to call him an asshole, but Ricky was luckily there to mediate.

“I am. It seems like you’re here alone tonight.. what a shame.” Seonghwa replied in his usual deep voice, ☁️ watching the man look him up and down.

“I’m here to donate to a charity, not intimidate socialites with my goons.” ☁️ kept a straight face, but wanted to laugh in Seonghwa’s face. “And you look rediculous.” ☁️ whispered after leaning into Seonghwa, only taking a step back when Ricky grabbed his arm and muttered a ‘Jeez.’ Seonghwa sneered and looked around in response, licking his teeth as he nodded in amusement. ☁️ could tell he was already ticked off.

“I’ll see you later tonight, yeah?” Seonghwa nodded his up as he spoke, patting ☁️ on the arm and nodding to Ricking before departing to his table with his goons.

“You couldn’t have made that any worse.” Ricky whined, furrowing his eyebrows as he looked at ☁️.

“Somebody has to humble him.”

“I don’t want any bad blood here, ☁️.”

“I said that I understood. If he can’t take criticism then maybe he shouldn’t be The North’s premier mob boss.”

“Well Southside’s premier mob boss seems to not know how to behave.”

“I was-“ ☁️ paused. “Well… He’ll be fine.”

“Right.. I’ve been meaning to talk to him so I’m going to do that now. The service should begin in the next few minutes. Make some friends while you’re here, you need them.” Ricky said before he began walking away. ☁️ gasped teasingly, the two smiling to each other as the distance in-between them grew.

—

His footsteps tapping up the staircase’s crimson-colored carpet, ☁️ was on the hunt for someone specific. He stepped onto the mezzanine and walked over to the beige railing, him then leaning against it. Scouring over the many faces on the dance floor and sitting at tables, ☁️ found that Seonghwa was nowhere in sight despite having seen him before the service had begun. Assuming that the man had left early, ☁️ frowned and turn around.

“Whatcha doin’?” Seonghwa asked, leaning against the wall a few feet in front of ☁️. The man’s goons weren’t next to him, but ☁️ could see them on the other ends of the mezzanine through the corner of his eye.

“I was looking for you. Have a minute?”

Seonghwa raised an eyebrow and walked over to ☁️, standing beside him.

“Make it quick.” He muttered, looking down at the people below.

“I received this letter a few days ago. I wanted to ask if you knew anything about it.” ☁️ pulled an envelope out of his jacket pocket and handed it to Seonghwa.

“People still write letters?” Seonghwa said with a scowl, pulling a piece of paper out of the envelope.

“So is it safe to assume that you weren’t the one to send it?”

Seonghwa took another minute to analyze the letter.

“No.. not my style... Whoever did hates you, though.” Seonghwa whispered, handing the piece of paper and envelope back to ☁️. “What’s the red stuff at the bottom? Don’t tell me it’s blood.”

“It is. Instead of signing a name, the blood is suppose to be the signature. That’s what I think, anyway.”

“Wow.. you really pissed someone off. Did you figure out whose blood it is?”

“Mine.”

Seonghwa laughed and turned to ☁️.

“So someone wrote a letter threatening you, somehow got ahold of your blood and smeared it onto the paper, and then mailed it to you?” Seonghwa shook his head with a smile. “Good luck, really. You need it.”

“I thought that you’d be more helpful. That’s all I needed, though. Have a good night.” ☁️ said, turning to walk away. Seonghwa quickly gripped his shoulder and stopped the man in his tracks. ☁️ to looked over his shoulder somewhat menacingly.

“Do you need help? Seriously.” Seonghwa’s unserious smile quickly turned into an expressionless display of concern, as he slightly leaned into ☁️.

“Never will I need your help. Stay on your side and I’ll be fine.” ☁️ quipped, brushing Seonghwa’s hand off of his shoulder and stepping away. He stopped upon hearing Seonghwa continue.

“I hate you.. but don’t die, please.”

“The hell are you talking about?” ☁️ snapped, looking over his shoulder again.

“That’s psychotic behavior, ☁️. You can’t just have one of your guys find and take care of ��em.”

“Why not?”

“This isn’t just some guy on the street.”

“No shit.” ☁️ rolled his eyes. “I have to go, Seonghwa.”

Seonghwa remained silent, watching as ☁️ strolled back down the staircase.

“How the hell did they know it was there?” ☁️ walked up the stone walkway to his home, with two of his associates following beside him. The mansion had been broken into, with a suitcase full of hard drives having been taken from ☁️’s chambers.

“Respectfully sir, we suspect a mole in the group. After the passing of your parents, the associates haven’t necessarily been well-monitored.” The older man beside ☁️ replied, opening a door for him as the three arrived to the entrance.

“Please get in touch with the gentleman who set the security systems up.” ☁️ paused as he stepped inside. “Actually, I’ll just do it. You two should go home for the night.”

“But sir, we really think someone should stay with you until everything’s resolved.” The second associate replied, following ☁️ as he unbuttoned his suit jacket in the spacious living room. The room glowed in orange and yellow hues from the lit fireplace. ☁️ sighed and turned to his two henchmen, a sense of nervousness trickling down his spine. He wondered if he could trust them, but also wondered if there truly was an outsider out to get him as Seonghwa suggested.

“I’ll take care of myself and this.. situation. Please, go home.”

“At least let me contact the programmer. I’ll get him here as soon as I can.”

“Thank you. I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

1 week later

“Two events in a row? This must be a record.”

☁️ felt a tap on his shoulder and turned around. Seonghwa smirked, looking ☁️ up and down. “I didn’t think you’d come.”

“Wasn’t sure why you invited me.” ☁️ replied, crossing your arms.

“Oh, here I thought that you wanted to support charities..”

“You held a gala one week after Ricky and invited me on short notice.”

“Seems that I did. So?”

☁️ exhaled. “Thanks but I should go.”

“Wait.” Seonghwa held his hand out to stop the man. “I heard things weren’t going well on your side of the city. You sure you don’t need help?”

☁️ looked around the crowd of people surrounding him. This ballroom was smaller than the previous gala’s, but just as loud. ☁️ leaned into Seonghwa, who reacted by leaning forward as well.

“If I find out that you’re playing me again, it won’t end up for you.” ☁️ murmured into Seonghwa’s ear. Seonghwa leaned back up, with a seemingly offended expression.

“Are you accusing me of what’s going on?”

“No, simply warning you- just in case. I need to go.”

“☁️.”

☁️ turned around and slid past people to get out of the crowd.

“☁️!!”

☁️ froze as the room went silent. Everyone turned to Seonghwa as ☁️ slowly turned around to glance back at the man. An awkward silence filled the air for a few seconds, with Seonghwa not taking his eyes off of ☁️. After the chatter picked back up, ☁️ continued out of the room, leaving an abandoned Seonghwa alone on the dance floor.

☁️ walked through the hallways and toward the glass double doors, waving down a bellman as he did so.

A few photographers stood behind red ropes, clicking their cameras immediately after ☁️ began descending quickly down the white staircase. A few began shouting out to him.

“Hey, ☁️! What’re you doing in The North?”

“Have you and the Park family finally made amends?”

“You look great tonight, ☁️!”

☁️ smiled and waved as a bellman pulled to the curb with his grey sports car, getting out as soon as ☁️ reached the sidewalk. The bellman handed the keys to the man as the two walked past each other, ☁️ then jumping into the drivers seat.

“Hey, Mr. ☁️. The programmer was able to stop in today.”

“That’s great, has everything been recovered?” ☁️ responded as he walked into his home, an associate beside him.

“He said he needed a password.”

“To the computer? Why didn’t you call or text me? Is he available tomorrow?”

“He’s still here, just using the bathroom. I’ll tell him you’ve arrived after you put your password in.”

☁️ looked over to the associate after hanging his suit jacket up.

“It’s midnight.”

“It’s the only time he could come this week.”

☁️ raised an eyebrow and walked to his chambers past the living quarters and down the hall. After his shoes tapped echoed through the hallway, he leaned into the double doors, pushing them open. The lamp on his desk was already turned on at the other end of the room. ☁️ also noticed that the associate was still behind him, him turning to the man before walking inside of the room. He was suspicious at this point, hearing more voices in the living quarters.

“Why don’t you go let the programmer know that I’m back. Please tell the other associates that they’re good to go, as well. I don’t need anybody here right now.”

“You want us to leave you alone with the programmer? What if he tries to-“

“That’s an order. I’ll see you tomorrow.” ☁️ narrowed his eyes, allowing his voice to become slightly belligerent.

The associate sneered and nodded, turning around and walking toward the living quarters. ☁️ sighed and closed the chamber doors behind him, walking toward the desk in front of the large stain-glass window. Bookshelves covered the left and right walls, and though the room wasn’t huge, the ceiling was very high up.

☁️ walked around the other side of the desk, sitting down and tapping the computer’s keyboard to turn the device on. He didn’t put his password in, choosing to wait for the programmer to arrive. Another thirty seconds passed before the oldest associate opened the room’s doors, walking in.

“☁️. Do you have a moment?”

“Where’s the programmer?”

“I think he’s still talking to the other associates. I think we should speak in the meantime.” The associate called out, standing at the door.

“Come.”

The associate strolled slowly over to the side of ☁️’s desk.

“What did you want to talk about.” ☁️ asked, giving the man his attention.

“You know, your father and I were extremely close. He entrusted me to do everything beside him.”

“Yes, I remember.” ☁️ nodded, tilting his head to the side.

“He also hated the Park family with every fiber of his being. And I know that you’ve been going out of your way to attend Seonghwa’s galas.”

“To support his charity and rebuild my family’s reputation. Yes.”

“Do you think that your father would’ve wanted this? To knock down the legacy that he has built?”

“Excuse me?” ☁️ snickered. He felt his body become tense, and his tone dull.

“I just think that with you as the head of this.. well, what used to be a mob group, you’ve dug our reputation into ground.”

☁️ felt his body heat up, making him stand up and grab the associate by the collar. The associate responded by pulling a gun out from his back pocket and pointing it at ��️’s head. ☁️ exhaled and let go of the man’s collar, putting his hands to his sides.

“You need to give this up, ☁️. It’s in your best interest. Your father wouldn’t want this.”

“And his inability to be harmonious with other people is what got him killed.”

“Put your password into the computer so I can put this gun down.” The associate muttered, tapping the gun against ☁️’s head.

“No.”

“Please don’t make me do this.”

☁️ laughed.

“You’re not gonna have the password if you do ‘this.’”

“Don’t mock me.”

“Don’t be an idiot, then.” ☁️ laughed again, pausing before quickly shuffling to the side and knocking the gun out of the man’s hand. The gun landed on the desk and slid across it, falling off on the other side. ☁️ leaped over the desk and grabbed the gun before the man could snatch it, ☁️ then kicking his knee out while still on the ground. The associate quickly stood up and ran toward ☁️ as he got on one a knee. With a loud bang, ☁️ shot the pistol, hitting the associate in the leg. The man fell to the ground and clutched his knee.

“Fuck.” ☁️ muttered under his breath, putting the gun on safety mode and into his pocket. He grabbed his computer from the desk and threw it through the stained-glass window, shattering it. The door then slammed open, with a bunch of ☁️’s members running in. After seeing the older associate on the ground, the group whipped their guns out and pointed them at ☁️. The man was already halfway out of the window at this point, him having jumped through the hole and falling into the bushes below. With scrapes and bruises along his body, ☁️ rolled out of the bush and secured the laptop beside him- though he presumed it broken. He shot up and ran alongside the mansion’s side, hopping over the iron fencing as soon as he reached the front of the building. ☁️ considered taking one of his cars, but quickly realized that the keys were still inside.

Continuing to run through the forest, he eventually emerged into the city after a few minutes. ☁️ noticed a university campus in front of him as he wandered, him power walking through it and waving a taxi down. He ran to its side and jumped in, him recognizing the driver as he did so. The two stared at each other through the rear view mirror before the driver smiled.

“Oh, right- you’re ☁️. I worked a lot with your father.”

☁️ froze with his hand on the car’s handle, preparing to run out.

“Your family has helped mine out a lot. But anyway, where to?”

��Can you just drive, please?” ☁️ asked nervously, his hand still on the handle.

“Sure thing.”

The two drove in silence for a minute before the driver pulled up to a red light.

“You alright? You look pretty disheveled there, chief.”

“Yes, just some work issues.”

The driver chuckled. “Your dad had the same problem. I’d always wait a block or two away after he handled business, and he’d come running over with ripped clothing and red fists.” He paused. “I’m a bit relieved that the whole mob business thing is dying, though. I hope you don’t mind me saying that.”

☁️ pondered his words, repeating them in his head before responding. “..Yeah, I’m relieved as well. Can I bother you to drop me off in The North?”

“Oh, sure. I heard that you buried the hatchet with the Park family. That true?”

“I think that’s what I’m going to do now.”

“I see. Is there somewhere specific in the North?”

“Do you know where that gala was held today?”

“Oh yeah, I’ll have you there in a few.”

“Thanks.”

“Well, it’s an honor to help you through this last hurrah. I hope it goes well.”

“Thank you sir. How much do I owe you?”

“You don’t look like you have anything on you, respectfully. Just get me back next time you see me.”

☁️ nodded and slowly turned around toward the large building in front of him. There were no photographers, no red ropes, and no people wandering around at this point. With his computer under his arm, he began up the steps.

Upon walking through the glass doors, a receptionist was packing her belongings in a large purse.

“Oh, Mr. ☁️. Are you looking for the gala’s after party?” She asked as the man approached her desk.

“Ah- yes, I am. Can you tell me where it is?”

“It’s down the hallway to your left, the last door down. Also.. you’re bleeding a bit..”

☁️ looked down to where she pointed, seeing small patches of red stain through his white button-up shirt.

“Oh.. yeah, it’s just part of the outfit. Thank you though.”

“Oh, ok.. Have a goodnight.”

“You as well.”

☁️ continued down the dark hallway, stopping in front of a frosted glass door with loud music playing behind it. Streaks of blue, pink, and white flashed across the glass as he pushed the door open. The room was pretty big, with confetti and balloons spread across the floor. A group of around a hundred people danced in front of a smaller DJ booth, with a few wallflowers conversing amongst each other with glasses in their hands. ☁️ walked over to a table full of champagne glasses, grabbing one and sitting in the nearest seat against the wall. He plopped down, leaning his head against the wall and chugging the glass. He looked around, though couldn’t see Seonghwa from where he was. It didn’t help that the room was somewhat dim, with pink lights illuminating half of the room from behind the DJ. Spotlights also casted quick flashes on the dance floor, them occasionally dancing across ☁️’s body as he sat.

Choosing to calm down before searching for Seonghwa, he opened his computer and tapped the keyboard. Surprisingly, it survived the seven foot fall and still worked- the only flaw being a few cracks in the top corner of the screen and a few missing buttons on the keyboard. ☁️ sighed and placed the computer on his lap, him then closing his eyes.

“Psst. Hey, sleepy head.”

☁️ heard someone whisper from beside him, making him jump. He opened his eyes and looked to his left, seeing Seonghwa sitting beside him. He clutched his computer and looked around, seeing that everyone was preparing to leave the party. The music had stopped, and a few workers were vacuuming the carpet. Seonghwa’s face was barely visible in the dim, pink lighting, though his voice was softer than ☁️ had recalled. “So, you came back..?”

“…I think I need your help.” ☁️ hummed.

Seonghwa smirked. “I won’t rub it in your face even though I wanna. Do you need a place to stay?”

☁️ nodded, standing up as Seonghwa did. Seonghwa placed a hand on ☁️’s back, guiding him to the exit. The flashing lights turned into white spotlights that illuminated the exit at this point.

The two followed the crowd out of the room and down the hallway. As they walked out of the glass doors, ☁️ recognized the cars lined up on the sidewalk, with multiple bellman awaiting the guests at the bottom of the stairs.

“We’re all the way in the front.” Seonghwa stated, walking down the staircase with ☁️ and turning right down the sidewalk. A bellman approached the two, handing Seonghwa a pair of keys. He unlocked the red sports car and removed his hand off of ☁️’s back, hurrying in front of the man to open the vehicle door for him. ☁️ rolled his eyes and attempted to hide a smile as Seonghwa gestured him inside. As he sat down, ☁️ covered the patches of red along his top with his arms and hands. Seonghwa shut the door and ran to the other side, him hopping in and hurrying to start the car. After a few seconds, the two were speeding through empty city streets.

“Have you ever been to this part of The North?” Seonghwa asked with a tender tone, turning to ☁️ as he pulled into a lofty condo complex’s garage.

“This is my city. Of course I have.”

“Our city.” Seonghwa retorted.

☁️ smiled at the answer, opening his door after Seonghwa had parked on the highest level.

“We’ll have to take the elevator to the lobby, and then we’ll take a different one to my place.” Seonghwa stated from the other side of the car. ☁️ waited for Seonghwa to lead the way, but upon standing beside ☁️, the man froze.

“What the hell happened?! You’re bleeding.”

“I know.” ☁️ sighed, him having forgotten to cover the red stains.

“You’re explaining everything once we get inside.”

“Ok.”

Seonghwa linked his arm with ☁️’s, ☁️ speculating that Seonghwa thought he was too badly injured to walk by himself, which elicited the act.

The two quickly reached the elevator and stepped inside. With mirrors along the walls, a gold accent lined the corners of the elevator. Seonghwa leaned forward to press a button, and the two were soon moving up.

“Are you tired?”

“Extremely.” ☁️ replied monotonously.

“I could tell by your tone. You can take my bed and I’ll sleep in my guest room.”

“You don’t have to do that. I’ll take the guest room.”

“No. You can take the bigger bed.”

☁️ was too tired to argue back, instead choosing to lean against the mirror as the elevator continued. After a few more seconds, the door buzzed and the two walked through. The lobby’s lights were dim and the spacious room was empty. The men walked across the marble floor to another elevator, Seonghwa pressing the button again though the elevator doors opened immediately. The two walked through, and Seonghwa pressed the button of the highest number- 16.

“You’re on the highest floor?”

“Yes. It’s a penthouse with lots of windows , you’ll like it.”

The two stood silent for a few minutes until the elevator buzzed again, the men stepping out into a small walkway. Taking a few steps forward, Seonghwa flipped a switch, which turned on a small lamp above the two of them. He then pulled out his keychain, picking out a key and twisting it into the black door.

“After you.” Seonghwa said, gesturing ☁️ forward. Seonghwa’s penthouse was full of monotonous colors and exotic furniture- definitely a reflection of his personality. Small lamps lit the space as the two walked into the living room area. Large windows sat on each side of the walls, with the moon peering down from the large skylight above.

“I do like it.” ☁️ murmured as he moved his arm away from Seonghwa’s. Seonghwa simply smiled in response.

“Let me show you to the room.”

“Show me the guest room.”

“No.”

☁️ rolled his eyes, following Seonghwa down the end of the hallway. He switched his lamp light on, it illuminating the large bedroom. The walls, bedsheets, and furniture were all visually-pleasing shades of grey. The windows on the right side of the room touched both the floor and ceiling, stretching across most of the wall to reveal a beautiful view of the city. To the left, a door led into another room.

“Just sit on the bed. I’ll get you some new clothes and medical stuff.” Seonghwa instructed, walking into the bathroom. ☁️ walked to the bed and sat, him waiting for the man to come back out. After a minute, Seonghwa walked toward ☁️ with a small bottle, cotton balls, along with a roll of bandages and placed it beside ☁️. He then trudged over to the wardrobe across from his bed, opening it and throwing a pair of green and blue pajama pants with a white tee onto the bed.

“Those are old so they should fit you. Do you want me to get out while you change?”

“I don’t care, just turn around.” ☁️ replied taking off his pants and unbuttoning his top as Seonghwa faced his wardrobe. He threw the man’s pants on but put the tee around his neck, exposing some of his stomach and arms.

“Okay.”

Seonghwa turned around and sat on the bed. ☁️ pushed the shirt away from his arm for Seonghwa to clean.

“So, you gonna tell me what happened?”

“My associates tried to overthrow me and take over my company’s accounts. They said I wasn’t being a mob boss.”

“Is that where the letter was from?”

“I think they’ve been planning this for a few months now. They probably got ahold of my blood after your guys tried to take over my company’s building. Your goons show no mercy.” ☁️ chuckled, but Seonghwa frowned.

“I didn’t initiate that, by the way. That was my father, and we’ve.. talked about it.”

“It hasn’t happened again, so I don’t care.”

After a few seconds of silence, Seonghwa continued disinfecting, and then wrapping ☁️’s arm.

“So what specifically happened?” Seonghwa asked.

“Well, I got home from the gala. I was told someone was coming in to help me retrieve missing data from drives that were stolen after Ricky’s gala last week. I’m pretty sure they lied, and one of my guys cocked a gun at me and told me to unlock my computer so they could use the drives they stole. I didn’t do it obviously, and I ended up shooting him. The gun probably fell out of my pants when I jumped out of the window and ran into the city.”

“You jumped out of a window?” Seonghwa furrowed his eyebrows, seemingly worried. He wrapped the bandage around ☁️’s arm and clipped it so that it stood in place. ☁️ lifted his pant leg up to expose another cut, him then scooting back on the bed to put the cut beside where Seonghwa sat.

“Do you mind?” ☁️ asked, looking over to Seonghwa.

“Not at all.” He replied, preparing another cotton ball to use.

“And.. yeah, I kinda did. It was only six or seven feet and I landed in a bush. So it was fine. I used this to smash the glass.” ☁️ said, pointing to the computer that he placed beside him. “That’s why it’s fucked up.”

“I have another that you can use.” Seonghwa said as he applied alcohol to the cuts.

“I have important filled on there. I don’t know what I’m going to do just yet.”

The two remained quiet again until Seonghwa finished wrapping the wounds.

“Alright, you should be good.” He stated, grabbing the used cotton swabs and walking into the bathroom with them. ☁️ grabbed the alcohol bottle and roll of bandages, carrying them back into the bathroom for Seonghwa.

“It’s 2:30 in the morning. You should rest.” Seonghwa said, watching ☁️ sit back down on the bed, Seonghwa then walking to the lamp.

“Before you go-“ ☁️ blurted out, stopping Seonghwa.

“Hm?”

“Why’re you helping me?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean. Why’re you doing this for me?”

“Because I like you, despite the “conversations” we’ve had in the past. And we’re not like our parents.”

☁️ nodded.

“Sleep well.” Seonghwa called out, turning the light off.

“Wait-“

Seonghwa turned the light back on, exhaling. “Yes?”

“Sleep in your bed.”

“I already told you I’m sleeping in the guest room.”

“I don’t want you to.”

“Then move over.”

☁️ scooted back toward the wall with the windows so that Seonghwa could sit in front of him. Seonghwa leaned over to turn the lamp off before pulling the covers over the two of them.

“I’m glad you’re okay. I worried about you a lot.” Seonghwa muttered, him then turning his body to face ☁️.

“Shouldn’t have.” ☁️ murmured in response.

“Well, I did.”

☁️ smiled. “Well, thanks for worrying.”

Seonghwa smiled back, grabbing ☁️’s hand from under the blanket. “Do you mind?”

“No.” ☁️ hummed before turning his body around. He scooted his body back to lie against Seonghwa’s. Grabbing the man’s hand and pulling it over his waist, then two now laid together a spooning position.

“Goodnight, ☁️.” Seonghwa whispered.

“Goodnight.”

a/n: genuinely can’t tell if my stories are good anymore 😄 hope u enjoyed tho! alsoooo gonna be a part 2- just to follow up and see how the reader and seonghwa build a relationship together while the reader is still under the other mob’s protection. def gonna be more fluff and character development in that one!! there can be ❄️ if u guys want it bad enough lol

likes, comments, & reblogs r appreciated ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

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wolverigrl · 1 month ago

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I'm going through a similar situation, so maybe it will help me having a little more confidence in myself. Also shout out to my bf always late. ✌🏻 (If you read this babe, I love you)

Hugh x younger reader (30s-50s). The reader traveled out of the US for her friend's b-day and asked Hugh to be her partner. He senses her nervousness and asks her why, she confesses that there will be other people who made fun of her/weren't real friends with her and he makes sure his girl has the perfect outfit and shows her how beautiful she is when she's wearing her self confidence. Everyone at the party looks at her realizing they were messing with the wrong girl.

The Right Kind of Confidence

Hugh Jackman x f!reader

A/N: You are all beautiful and enough. This world needs more of you, sweet souls. Never ever forget this! xx

Warnings: mentions of past bullying, maybe some angst, cheesy

Enjoy!

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It all started with an innocent text. Or at least, that’s how I tried to rationalize it.

I’d been invited to my old friend Emily’s birthday party in London - she’d relocated there a few years back. It was supposed to be a fun, carefree getaway, a chance to reconnect with old friends. But when the invite arrived, nestled deep in the email chain, I couldn’t shake the creeping dread.

Along with me, there were others on the guest list - people I hadn’t seen in years. People who had once made high school and college more difficult than it needed to be. The thought of facing them again sent a cold shiver through me.

Still, I knew I couldn’t skip Emily’s big day. She’d been a real friend through thick and thin, and I’d promised myself I wouldn’t let the bad memories dictate how I lived my life.

So, I sent that text to Hugh, feeling a bit ridiculous.

Y/N: Hii❤️ I’ve got an invite to a birthday party in London. Any chance you’d want to come with me?

I hit send before I could second-guess myself. It was the first time I’d asked him to travel for something personal, not work-related or vacation-focused. Hugh had always been the kind of guy who loved adventure, but I wasn’t sure if "be my emotional support at a party full of people who once bullied me" counted as an adventure.

My phone buzzed just minutes later. Hugh’s name lit up the screen.

HUGH: London? I’ve always got time for that. When do we leave? ;)❤️

The sigh of relief I let out could have been heard across the street. I grinned down at the phone, a warmth spreading through me that had nothing to do with the cup of coffee in my hands.

The days leading up to the trip passed in a blur of planning, nerves, and packing. Hugh handled everything with his usual calm, even helping me pick out a dress for the party - a gorgeous satin piece that made me feel like I was ready for the red carpet, even if my stomach was in knots over the thought of facing those old 'friends' again.

When the day finally came, Hugh and I met at the airport. His easygoing nature had a calming effect on me, even as I lugged my suitcase through the busy terminal, the excitement of the trip warring with the old insecurities gnawing at my mind.

"You ready for London?" Hugh asked, pulling me in for a quick hug before we went through security. He had a sparkle in his eyes, like the trip was going to be nothing but fun for him.

I tried to return his smile, but I could feel my nerves creeping back.

"Yeah, definitely. Just didn't thought of seeing some of the people again. It’s bringing back all kinds of old memories."

Hugh furrowed his brow, clearly picking up on the shift in my mood. He placed a hand on my shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"We don’t have to go, you know. If this is going to make you uncomfortable, just say the word."

I shook my head quickly, not wanting to back out now.

"No, I want to go. I just don’t want to spend the whole trip in my head worrying about it."

His expression softened, and he looked at me like he was trying to figure out exactly what to say to make me feel better.

"Well if anyone has a problem with you, they’re the ones who need to grow up."

I smiled, feeling some of the tension ease out of my shoulders. "Thanks, Hugh. I don’t know what I was thinking asking you to come along on this, but I’m really glad you did."

"Are you kidding? A trip to London with you? I’d never pass that up!" he said, his voice light but sincere.

By the time we landed in London, the nerves had faded somewhat, replaced by excitement. We checked into the hotel, and as I watched the city’s skyline from our room, I felt the promise of a good trip begin to settle in my bones. With Hugh here, maybe this would be the perfect opportunity to prove to myself that the past didn’t hold any power over me anymore.

I stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the hem of my dress for what felt like the hundredth time. It was a soft satin, flowing in all the right places, hugging my body just right. By any other measure, it was perfect. But tonight, I felt like it wasn’t enough - like I wasn’t enough.

"Everything okay in there?" Hugh’s deep voice filtered in from the hotel room’s balcony, where he was enjoying the sunset. I could hear the lilt of concern, even through the casual tone.

"Yeah!" I called back, trying to steady my nerves. "Just finishing up."

I stared at my reflection, hoping my face didn’t betray the knot of anxiety in my stomach. It had been years since I’d seen some of these people - people who had, at best, pretended to be friends. At worst, they’d made me the butt of their jokes when they thought I wasn’t looking.

They’d perfected the art of making someone feel invisible, but always in a way that you couldn’t call out.

Now, I was about to walk back into that. The only difference? This time, I wasn’t alone. I had Hugh by my side.

As much as I wanted to believe I’d outgrown that insecure version of myself, she was clawing her way back up to the surface, reminding me of every cruel laugh, every dismissive glance.

The door creaked as Hugh stepped inside, making his way toward me. I looked up at him in the mirror, catching his reflection as he leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, an amused smile playing at his lips. He looked effortlessly handsome with his salt and pepper beard and his dark suit with the shirt open at the collar. Just the right mix of casual and polished.

The sight of him should have been enough to calm me down, but instead, my stomach twisted tighter.

"You look gorgeous." he said, pushing off from the door and coming up behind me, his hands settling gently on my hips. He pressed a soft kiss to my temple, his warm breath brushing against my skin.

"So why do you look like you’re about to faint?"

I let out a shaky laugh, avoiding his eyes in the mirror. "I'm fine, really. Just it’s been a while since I’ve seen these people."

He raised an eyebrow, his hands still resting firmly on my hips. "And that’s what’s bothering you?"

I sighed, feeling the weight of it all pressing down. There was no point in pretending with Hugh. He could always see through me.

"There are people coming tonight who weren’t exactly nice to me. A lot of them didn’t even pretend to be my friends."

I admitted, my voice quieter than I intended. "I know I shouldn’t care, but it’s hard to shake that feeling. What if I’m just setting myself up for more of the same?"

Hugh’s grip tightened slightly on my hips, grounding me in the present.

"Hey.." he said softly, turning me around to face him. His gaze was steady, comforting.

"You’re not that person anymore. And they sure as hell don’t get to make you feel like you are."

I tried to smile, but the anxiety still gnawed at me.

"I know, I just… I want to walk in there feeling confident, like I belong."

He tilted his head, a thoughtful look crossing his face.

"You’re worried about confidence? With the way you look right now?" His eyes traveled over me appreciatively, and for a second, the knot in my stomach loosened.

"Love, you look stunning! You’ve got nothing to prove."

I let out another nervous laugh, though this time it was more from the warmth his words brought.

"Easy for you to say. You’re Hugh Jackman. You were voted the sexiest man alive in 2008. You could wear a garbage bag and people would still be tripping over themselves to tell you how amazing you are."

He laughed, stepping closer, his hand sliding up to cup my cheek.

"Okay, first of all, I’d rock that garbage bag!" He winked, making me smile. "But second - this isn’t about them. This is about you."

I felt his thumb gently brush my cheek as his voice softened.

"I’ve seen you, y/n. I’ve seen the way you handle people, the way you carry yourself. You’ve got more strength in you than they ever gave you credit for. They were wrong to underestimate you."

I looked into his eyes, my heart starting to slow, the tension easing out of my shoulders.

"But what if they try making me feel like that person again?"

Hugh smiled, a slow, confident curve of his lips as he pulled me closer, his forehead resting against mine. "They can try." he murmured. "But tonight, you’ve got something they never had - you know exactly who you are."

His words wrapped around me like a warm blanket, steadying the whirlwind in my chest. "And if that’s not enough." he added, his voice teasing now.

"I’ll be there, by your side, reminding them of what a mistake they made messing with you."

I laughed, the sound more genuine this time, and leaned into his chest.

"Thank you."

He kissed the top of my head before stepping back to get a better look at me.

"But there’s just one thing missing."

"What?"

He turned, heading toward his suitcase on the bed, and after a moment, he pulled out a small, velvet box. My heart skipped a beat, and I glanced at him, confused. We weren’t doing that. Were we?

Hugh chuckled when he saw my expression. "Relax. It’s not what you think."

He opened the box to reveal a delicate pair of earrings, simple yet elegant, catching the light in a way that made them sparkle like stars.

"These.." he said softly, stepping forward and taking one out. "Are for you.”

I blinked, feeling a lump form in my throat. "Hugh, they’re beautiful!"

He grinned as he gently hooked the earring onto my ear.

"I know you don’t need them to look beautiful, but consider them a little extra sparkle to remind you just how stunning you are - inside and out."

I swallowed the sudden emotion welling up inside me as he fastened the other earring. When he was done, I looked back in the mirror, and something had shifted. The dress that had felt just right now seemed to gleam with confidence. The earrings shimmered against my skin, catching the light, but it was Hugh’s words that had truly made me feel different.

I turned to face him, my heart swelling. "How do you always know exactly what to say?"

Hugh smiled, his hands resting on my shoulders.

"It’s easy when you mean every word." He leaned down, his lips brushing mine in a tender kiss.

His words sent a warmth flooding through me, melting away the last of my doubts. I looked up into his eyes, and for a moment, I could see what he saw - a woman who had grown, who had strength. The kind of person who didn’t need the approval of people who had never truly known her in the first place.

"Now, come on." he said, stepping back with a grin. "Let’s get ready to knock ’em dead!"

As we arrived at the party, I could feel that familiar tightness creeping into my chest again, but Hugh’s hand was warm and steady around mine. The moment we walked in, eyes turned in our direction. I could feel the weight of their stares, but instead of shrinking away, I stood taller.

Conversations paused, glances exchanged. The people who had once dismissed me or whispered behind my back were now watching with something resembling disbelief, but not for the reasons they used to. They were seeing someone different now - someone who had grown, evolved, and walked into that room with self-assurance that couldn’t be ignored.

Hugh stayed close, his presence solid and reassuring. But it wasn’t him they were looking at.

It was me.

Emily rushed over, beaming from ear to ear, pulling me into a tight hug.

"You made it! And you brought Hugh!"

"Of course!" I smiled, hugging her back. "Happy birthday, Em!"

We navigated through the crowd, making small talk with the birthday girl, my real friends, and slowly, I realized, it didn’t matter what those other people thought. I felt good. I felt powerful. Hugh had been right - I didn’t need to prove anything to anyone.

I caught sight of one of the girls from the past - the one who had always been the ringleader of the snide comments, the icy looks. She smiled at me now, but it was different. She was clearly taken aback, unsure of how to react.

I smiled back, polite but distant, and kept walking, letting that version of me - the one they used to push around - fade away for good.

We spent the rest of the night laughing, and enjoying the party, but through it all, Hugh never left my side. Every time I caught a glimpse of myself in a reflection, I saw it - not just the earrings, the dress, or even him at my side - but the confidence I had found within.

By the time we left, the air between us was lighter, free from the weight of those past insecurities. As we stepped out into the cool night, I turned to Hugh, wrapping my arms around his waist.

"You really did give me the best gift tonight." I said softly, looking up at him.

Hugh smiled, brushing a strand of hair from my face. "What’s that?"

"You made me see myself the way you see me."

He kissed me then, slow and deep, his arms wrapping tighter around me as if to remind me that no matter what, I was enough. I always had been.

"You’re incredible, love." he whispered against my lips. "Never forget that."

And with him by my side, I knew I never would.

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Tags: @angelofthorr @haytchee

#hugh jackman #wolverine #hugh jackman x you #marvel #x men #hugh #jackman #hugh jackman x reader #hugh jackman imagines #fluff

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