Tumgik
#and it's so distinct I can recognize it as yours right away
thevoidstaredback · 12 hours
Text
A funny thought just came to me, so here's a new writing prompt:
The Justice League doesn't think that Batman has a civilian identity. For the most part, he only ever comes out at night, adding to the nocturnal rumors, but he has been seen during the day when there are huge problems or bigger rouge attacks.
And, because the JL don't think he has a civilian identity, they naturally assume that none of the other Gotham Vigilantes do, either. Signal, the only consistent day shift, is obviously a different breed than the rest. All of the others are nocturnal.
Extra points if they think they're a group of cryptids.
One day, Bruce and Tim are needed to help set up at WE for a press conference. One that Lois Lane is covering. At the same time, the JL Is having a meeting. Normally Dick would put on the Batman suit, but Nightwing is needed at the meeting, too. They can't say that Batman is off world, because all of those trips are logged and followed by the Lanterns. So, the next logical thing to do is for Nightwing to tell the JL that Batman and Red Robin were needed as civilians, but he will make sure to pass the information on to them, as well as record the meeting.
"Batman doesn't have a civilian identity," Is the response he gets. "None of you do, right?"
Nightwing, for all his training, doesn't react outside of his smile getting slightly bigger. "You don't think we have secret identities?"
"No, we kinda just assumed you all just hid away in a cave or something when you weren't needed or on duty."
Oh, these sweet summer children. Nightwing is trying very hard not to laugh at them. "We, we do have secret identities, we don't do nothing when we aren't in costume."
"Are you sure?" That's the Flash. "'Cause I'm pretty sure we'd recognize you guys out of costume." Kudos to him for being so confident about that. "Most of you only have tiny masks over your eyes. That's not enough to cover an identity."
Nightwing takes a glance at Superman, not that anyone can see his eyes move behind the domino mask. The alien's eyes have shifted left.
"I've been to Gotham plenty of time," Green Arrow speaks up, "I know I haven't seen everyone in the city, but I'm pretty sure I'd recognize your build. It's pretty distinct."
Bold. All of the Wayne Clan have met Green Arrow in and out of costume. They've actually met most of the JL in and out of costume. Should he tell them? Nah, that's not funny. He can't wait to tell the others.
173 notes · View notes
sterekorgtfo · 1 day
Text
Buck’s eyes jolted open and his heart began to race as something alerted his body and jolted him out from his slumber.
He was momentarily disoriented given that this was the first time he was sleeping in Tommy’s bed and he didn’t recognize the feel of the pillows, comforter, or the sight of the dresser across from him.
After a moment of grasping where he was and what was going on, he recognized the distinct sound of Tommy laughing his ass off behind him in the middle of the night.
“Do you mind telling me what you find so funny at 2 in the morning?” Buck groggily asked as he rotated over to face his hysterical boyfriend.
“Wh…what I’m laughing at?” Tommy asked through the laughter. “Are you saying you don’t know?”
“Given that I was deep in a very heavy REM Cycle, no. Absolutely not,” Buck replied in an annoyed tone. “Our first sleepover is not seeming very romantic right now.”
Tommy let out a few more chuckles and then began to calm his breaths. “Really? I was just thinking the opposite,” Tommy teased playfully. “Your snoring is adorable. Louder than my chopper and my bike combined, but adorable.”
Buck groaned and buried his face in the pillow. “I thought Chris and all of my girlfriends were being over-dramatic.”
“I’m sorry,” Tommy interrupted through a giggle. “Christopher and multiple exes of yours experienced this, and you still had doubt?”
“Chris commented on it when I was babysitting him, and kids are dramatic; and my girlfriends…have also had a history of being dramatic,” Buck explained.
“Uh-oh. I’m dating a ‘all my exes were crazy guy’? That’s a red flag,” Tommy teased.
“No, they’re not,” Buck defended remorsefully. “I just hoped it wouldn’t happen here.”
Tommy chuckled at his boyfriend and Buck felt a mildly judgemental gaze his way. “You thought it’d just be gone by tonight?”
“Kinda?” Buck said sheepishly.
There was a lull in the convo, a moment of silence before Tommy wrapped his arms above and below Buck. “Come here.”
Buck let out a minor yelp as he felt himself be pulled closer to his boyfriend. He felt the warmth of Tommy’s bare muscular chest and arms envelop him. “I think your snoring is adorable, Evan, and I will happily suffer through so many sleepless nights as long as it means you get to fall asleep in my arms and I get to wake up next to you in the morning.”
“You say that now-”
“I do say that now. And I’ll say it again each night until my body won’t let me fall asleep without the sound of you,” Tommy insisted with a confident assurance.
Bucks heart raced and his body instinctively shuddered, and his instinct to roll away was coursing through his whole body.
“Evan? Evan, what’s wrong?” Tommy asked with concern.
“It’s nothing,” Buck lied as he rolled away from Tommy.
“It’s not nothing,” Tommy countered as he allowed his boyfriend some space. “Did I say something wrong, Evan? I’d really like to know if I did.”
Buck winced his eyes and took a deep breath. He was thankful that they were laying in the dark and - *click* oh great, there was the nightstand light on Tommy’s side.
“Evan, will you please look at me?” Tommy tenderly inquired.
Buck really didn’t want to. He wanted to hide himself under the comforters in embarrassment. He didn’t want to be vulnerable right now, but pushing Tommy away wasn’t going to help the situation. Tommy deserved better.
He begrudgingly rolled over to face Tommy and Buck’s heart was struck with guilt as he saw the pain and concern painted across Tommy’s face.
“Evan, baby, can you please tell me what’s wrong?” There was that sweet, genuine sincerity that terrified the hell out of him.
“It’s just…you make all these super sweet promises that sound like you’re gunna be around forever; and we don’t know that,” Buck explained.
“So am I coming on too strong? Do you want me to stop? I don’t mean to rush things or put pressure on you-,” Tommy nervously began to explain.
“No, it’s not too strong. And no, i don’t want you to stop. I like it a lot. Too much, actually, and that’s the problem. I’m scared at how much I like it and I’m terrified about getting too used to it in case this all goes south. You sound like you’re promising forever but you can’t.”
There was another pause as Tommy began to process everything Buck said. “Can I hold your hand?” Tommy softly asked. Buck gently nodded in response.
Tommy moved his free arm to Buck’s, and entwined their hands together, locking fingers. “Evan,” Tommy began, holding his gaze. “You’re right. I cant promise forever. I don’t think our very first sleepover warrants any ring-talk.”
Buck let out a small chuckle. “Yeah, please do not. That’s a red flag.”
“Fair,” Tommy said playfully. “But here’s what I do know. I’m 39, almost 40. I have no intention of plying the field and I’m tired of meaningless flings. I get the feeling you are too based on the handful of threats I’ve received about treating you right; which I absolutely plan on doing.”
Buck chuckled at the thought of everyone giving Tommy the ‘If you hurt him speech.’ “Who all gave you the speech?”
“Maddie. Eddie. Bobby, who found it pertinent to remind me that Athena is a police sergeant,” Tommy explained.
“Oh my god,” Buck said. “I’m surprised you didn’t run on the spot.”
“Well you shouldn’t be,” *Tommy said sternly. “I have no intentions of going anywhere. And granted, it’s possible life is going to throw us some shit. But I’m willing to fight for you, Evan. And as long as both our lives are better with each other in it, then I’m willing to give this a genuine shot. I’m ready to put in the effort for this.”
Buck stewed and marinated and contemplated Tommy’s words. “Is that not a sentiment most people have at the start?”
“No it is not,” Tommy answered matter-of-factly. “Especially in the gay community. I’m not saying everyone, but I’ve ran into my fair share of guys only looking for Mr. Right Now. Or a daddy.”
Buck started to laugh heartily at the thought of Tommy being a ‘daddy’. He understood, though. Buck kinda agreed.
“I want off the hamster wheel, Evan. And I will do everything I can to reassure you that I mean it.”
Buck leaned forward and kissed his boyfriend deeply. Tommy wrapped his arms back around Buck and held him tight.
“I don’t want to hurt you either, if it’s any consolation,” Buck replied.
“I appreciate that. I don’t know if I have another heartbreak in me either. I spent too many years being inauthentic to myself and unhappy. I don’t want to waste anymore time of my life.”
“So we’re in good hands with each other?” Buck asked.
“I think so,” *Tommy said with a soft, warm smile that made Buck feel so safe and happy with it.
“I think so, too,” Buck said as he leaned in for one more kiss. “Ready to go back to sleep?”
“I suppose that’s up to your nose,” *Tommy said playfully as he turned the light off and pulled his boyfriend in close.
158 notes · View notes
pucksandpower · 9 months
Text
Grid Kids: Awkward Encounters
Sebastian Vettel x wife!Reader x platonic!drivers
Summary: times when your grid kids gained way more insight into your relationship than they asked for
Series Masterlist
Tumblr media
The Time Max Just Wanted to Sleep
Max checks into his hotel room after a particularly tiring day at the track, desperately needing some rest. But as he sinks into the plush hotel bed, he’s met with unexpected noises coming from the adjacent suite. Recognizing the familiar voices, he groans, realizing that he’s unfortunately booked right next to you and Sebastian.
Pulling a pillow over his head, Max tries to drown out the sounds but they seem to only grow louder. He paces the room, plugging in earphones and trying to blast some music. Yet, the thin walls of the hotel make it hard to escape the breathy gasps and banging of the headboard coming from next door.
Getting desperate, Max considers going down and asking if any other rooms are still available but then decides to tackle the issue head-on. Grabbing his phone, he shoots a cheeky text to you and Sebastian: Hey, mind keeping it down a bit? Some of us are trying to sleep here!
***
A few minutes later, there’s a knock on Max’s door. Opening it, he finds the two of you, looking sheepish and holding a bottle of champagne.
“Peace offering,” Sebastian says with a grin. “Sorry about the noise.”
Max chuckles, shaking his head. “Next time, maybe we should coordinate our room arrangements a bit better.”
You end up sitting in Max’s suite, sharing the champagne as the initial awkwardness of the evening fades away.
As the night draws to a close, Max hugs you and pats Sebastian on the back, “Thanks for the drink. But next time, seriously, a bit of discretion wouldn’t hurt.”
Sebastian laughs, raising his glass before downing the remaining champagne, “To fewer awkward hotel nights.”
The Time Lance Just Wanted Some Music
It’s a bustling race weekend and the paddock is alive with activity. Inside the Aston Martin garage, Lance is fumbling with the PA system, trying to connect his phone to the system so he can share his new pump-up playlist with the team.
Meanwhile, nearby in an unused back office, you and Sebastian steal a few moments of intimacy away from the spotlight and the stress of the race.
Just as things heat up between you two, Lance unknowingly reroutes the PA system, and suddenly, the sounds from the office you commandeered echo through the entire garage. The mechanics and engineers freeze, their eyes widening in shock, while some try (and fail) to suppress their giggles.
As the soft murmurs and distinctive sounds start echoing through the garage, everyone stops in their tracks. Eyes widen, jaws drop, and awkward glances are exchanged. The team quickly realizes what’s happening and a frantic search begins to find the source of the unintended broadcast.
Max, who ran to the garage at the first sense of drama, snickers, leaning over to Charles who joined him, never one to resist good gossip either, “Seems like Seb’s getting a turbo boost.”
Charles stifles his laughter, nodding, “Definitely achieving maximum force.”
Realizing what he’s done, a horrified Lance scrambles to correct his mistake, finally disconnecting the PA system.
***
You and Sebastian, initially clueless about the unintended broadcast, step out of the room only to be met with a chorus of playful wolf whistles and knowing grins.
Charles leans in, whispering to Sebastian, "You guys put on quite the show.”
Max, laughing uncontrollably, slaps Lance on the back, “Best PA announcement ever!”
Lance, beet-red with embarrassment, mumbles his apologies, “I had no idea! I was just trying to fix the connection.”
Despite the initial shock, the hilarity of the situation soon takes over and the entire team is rolling with laughter. Sebastian, taking it in stride, wraps an arm around Lance’s shoulder, “Well, that’s one way to boost team morale.”
You, trying to hide your blush but failing, add with a smirk, “I guess we just set a new standard for team bonding.”
Later that night, at a dinner with your grid kids, George raises his glass, “To Lance, for reminding us all of the importance of ... connecting. And to Seb and Y/N, for providing today’s unexpected entertainment!”
The Time Lando Just Wanted to Stream
It’s another busy race weekend and the paddock is buzzing with energy. Lando, with some rare free time, decides to give his fans a live behind-the-scenes tour of the paddock on Instagram.
With tens of thousands of fans tuned in, Lando enthusiastically shows off various parts of the paddock. The garages, the control rooms, and the media centers all get their moment in the spotlight.
As Lando continues with his tour, he approaches a drivers’ lounge, thinking it would be a great idea to show his fans where the drivers relax and chat.
But as he pushes open the door, camera first, he unexpectedly broadcasts a very private moment between you and Sebastian. There’s a split second of stunned silence as the three of you stare at each other like deer in headlights before chaos ensues.
“Oops! Wrong room!” Lando exclaims, hastily retreating, his face turning a brilliant shade of red. He quickly ends the live stream but the damage is done.
***
Minutes later, the paddock is buzzing with whispers. Lando, mortified by his mistake, immediately approaches you and Sebastian to apologize.
“I swear I didn’t know! I thought it was empty!” he stammers, clearly distressed.
Sebastian, although embarrassed, pulls Lando into a one-armed hug to calm him down, “It’s okay. We should have locked the door.”
Lando nods, “And I should’ve knocked.”
That evening, as your not so little family regroups, there’s no escaping the topic. But instead of letting it hang awkwardly, the grid kids decide to turn it into a joke.
Charles, holding up his phone, teases, “So, thinking of starting a new career as an influencer couple?”
Max chimes in, “Yeah, your ratings went through the roof!”
In the middle of the laughter, you lean over to Lando, “Maybe stick to streaming video games for a while, okay?”
Lando grins sheepishly, “Deal.”
The Time Mick Just Wanted a Massage
The race had been particularly challenging that week and Mick, knowing how hard everyone had been pushing themselves, thought it would be a kind gesture to gift you and Sebastian a day of relaxation at the luxurious spa resort nearby. The couple’s massage package, complete with aromatherapy and access to private thermal baths, seemed perfect.
Thinking he’d also take the opportunity to indulge in some self-care, Mick booked a Swedish massage for himself around the same time, imagining quietly de-stressing in adjacent rooms.
As he settles in for his treatment, the gentle background music and expert hands of the masseuse almost lull Mick into a nap. But just as he’s drifting off, a familiar, muffled giggle floats through the walls, quickly followed by other ... less innocent noises.
Recognition dawns and Mick’s eyes snap open in horror. Next to him is the couple’s treatment room and it appears that you and Sebastian are finding more ways to relax than what the spa menu offered.
Panicking and wanting to escape the increasingly awkward situation, Mick whispers to the masseuse, signaling that he wants to end the session early. But the sounds, both from the neighboring room and his own racing heartbeat, make it hard to communicate discreetly.
Finally, unable to bear another second, Mick bolts upright, wrapping himself in his robe and leaving behind a very confused masseuse and a half-finished massage.
On his hurried way out, he generously tips the spa staff, adding a whispered plea, “Thicker walls. Please consider getting thicker walls.”
***
After the spa incident, you and Sebastian felt the need to make amends for the unintentional awkwardness you’d caused Mick.
The next morning, Mick receives a package at the door of his hotel room. Curious, he unwraps it to find a luxurious noise-canceling headphone set along with a cheeky note:
For the next time we’re all at the spa (or anywhere, really). May these help you find the peace and quiet you truly deserve!
We are so sorry,
Y/N and Seb
Mick chuckles, appreciating the humor and thoughtfulness behind the gift. Shaking his head with amusement, he sends you a text: Thanks for the headphones! I’ll be sure to put them to good use. And no worries, it’s all in good fun!
The Time Charles Just Wanted to Play the Piano
One breezy evening, Charles, looking to relax, decides to play the grand piano in the lounge area of the upscale hotel you’re all staying in. He’s excited to show off the piece he recently composed and thinks the soft tunes would be the perfect backdrop for the sunset.
As the first notes float in the air, Charles becomes more engrossed in his performance, letting the melody guide his emotions. Guests gather, drawn by his beautiful rendition, creating a small, appreciative audience.
However, as he transitions to a quieter, more mellow piece, another sound begins to subtly accompany his piano playing. It’s coming from the suite above the lounge and the faint but unmistakable noises are in stark contrast to his elegant music.
Charles’ eyes widen in recognition, realizing the suite above belongs to you and Sebastian. Trying to maintain his composure and not draw attention to the … additional soundtrack, Charles decides to improvise.
Switching to a louder, more vibrant tune, he plays with increased vigor and volume, trying to drown out the amorous symphony from upstairs. The crowd, oblivious to his true motives, applauds his versatility, thinking it’s all part of the show.
Once his fingers are numb and you seem to have quieted down, Charles wraps up his impromptu concert with a flourish, earning hearty applause from the crowd.
Later, as he walks past your table during dinner, Charles leans in, whispering with a smirk, “Your ... appreciation for my music was evident but maybe next time, stick to clapping something other than your cheeks?”
The Time George Just Wanted to Hang Up
George is prepping for an upcoming race, headphones in, studying the track layout on his tablet. Your name flashes across his phone screen and he quickly answers, eager to discuss your plans for the weekend.
The conversation goes smoothly and as it concludes, George believes he’s hung up, returning to his race prep. However, the call hasn’t disconnected and as moments pass, he starts hearing faint, intimate whispers, quickly recognizing the familiar voices of you and Sebastian.
Panicking, George tries to hang up but for some inexplicable reason, the phone seems to be in a rebellious mood. In his flustered state, he accidentally switches the call to speaker mode, amplifying the ... private conversation for all to hear.
In a rising state of desperation and embarrassment, George mashes buttons but the phone, now seemingly possessed, continues to broadcast the sighs and moans. His face reddens, realizing that his team, busy in the adjoining rooms, can probably hear everything.
In a final bid for respite, George, driven to the edge, hurls his phone against the wall. The device shatters, mercifully cutting off the call and restoring sweet silence.
Catching his breath, George contemplates the wreckage of his phone, feeling a mix of relief and regret.
Later, when he sees you and Sebastian, he sheepishly explains the demise of his phone. “You owe me a new one,” he jokes, “And maybe a pair of earplugs.”
Sebastian chuckles while you reach up to ruffle his hair, “Next time just put it on airplane mode.”
The Time They Just Wanted to Check the Group Chat Without Having to Bleach Their Eyes
On a quiet evening as you’re prepping dinner, your phone buzzes with a new notification. Wiping your hands, you pick it up only to find a message in the group chat you share with Sebastian and your grid kids. To your horror, it’s a risqué photo of Sebastian, clearly meant for your eyes only but now out there for the entire gang to see.
Immediately, the chat explodes.
Lando: My eyes! My eyes, they burn!
Charles: Seb, trying to spice up media day?
George: Well, that’s a different kind of pole position
Max: Blackmail material acquired 😈
Lance: This is taking teammate bonding a bit too far
Mick: I can never look you in the eyes again
Sebastian, realizing his mistake, quickly responds: Oops, meant to send that to Y/N. Sorry guys
Then, because he’s still a menace at heart, adds: Enjoy the view 😉
Max, always ready with a quip, shoots back: Enjoyed and scarred for life. Thanks, Seb
You jump in, trying to diffuse the situation: Okay, as fun as this is, let’s all delete and pretend this never happened. Deal?
Your grid kids collectively agree, although the jokes don’t stop anytime soon.
***
Later that evening, you find Sebastian slightly red-faced but chuckling. “Guess I need a lesson in texting,” he admits.
“You think?” you laugh, giving him a playful nudge.
To ensure no future mishaps, your grid kids gift Sebastian a book titled “Text Messaging for Dummies” when you meet up the following weekend, turning the awkward incident into a funny memory.
It’s just another day in the unpredictable but always entertaining life with your family.
And you have to admit, it was a nice photo. You make sure to enjoy the view in real life that night.
2K notes · View notes
amongemeraldclouds · 11 days
Text
The Slytherin Boys as Disney Princes
Ft. Theodore Nott, Mattheo Riddle, Blaise Zabini, Tom Riddle, Draco Malfoy, and Lorenzo Berkshire. Also features x f!Reader as their equivalent Disney princesses.
© amongemeraldclouds I do not consent to having my work shared or reproduced elsewhere. Please do not claim as your own, tumblr is the only place I share my written work.
✿ Masterlist | 1.8k words
Tumblr media
From the Wizarding World to magical fairytales, let’s crown our beloved Slytherin boys as the following Disney princes:
Theodore Nott as Prince Charming (Cinderella)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Note: Prince Charming doesn’t have much personality in the original 1950s film, but we learn more about him in later films, where I drew information from.
✭ Raised in privilege as a prince, Theodore Nott lived a very charmed life just as the name Prince Charming suggests.
✭ With only royals and commoners to distinguish class, he is less prejudiced and more accepting of others. His father taught him at an early age that they have a responsibility to their people just as their people serve them.
✭ Because of this, he is open and friendly to everyone, including animals. He was once hunting down a deer only for it to be a game in the end, him and the deer are actually friends. (Note: Yes this is canon Prince Charming and is very Theo as well.)
✭ If Disney were less wholesome, Theo as Prince Charming would have regular lovers, but it will only always be physical. He has not yet found a connection with anyone, but it doesn’t matter because he enjoys sex. He certainly never runs out of women to sleep with.
✭ Beneath all the charm, he secretly hopes to find a love match. The kind of relationship that transcends strategy and status. He longs for passion and romance, much like in the books he reads in the castle’s library, though he’ll never let anyone know.
✭ His father in the meantime is keen to see him married to an eligible maiden so he threw a ball. He rolled his eyes and yawned when no one was looking, initially bored because he still couldn’t find the connection he longed for. At this point, he doubted he’d ever find it. 
✭ Then he met you. You in your light blue dress and glass slippers. Everything about you sparkled and it ignited something in his heart. He never knew romantic love before you, but he recognized it right away.
✭ He wouldn’t care that you were a commoner, he’d admire your courage and kindness once he got to know you. Besides, true love was far more valuable than any precious metals and gems.
✭ After you ran off, your glass slipper gave him hope. He was going to stop at nothing to find you, his true love.
Tumblr media
Mattheo Riddle as Flynn Rider (Tangled)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
⋆☀︎. Left to his own devices, Mattheo Riddle would go on countless adventures across different kingdoms and forests, thieving only as a means to an end so he could survive. 
⋆☀︎. He enjoys the rush, being chased by the authorities and not being held down by rules or responsibilities. (Except they can never get his damn nose right on Wanted signs despite the distinct cut he has on the bridge of his nose iykyk.)
⋆☀︎. With his charming personality and irresistible smolder, he’s an expert in banding together with fellow criminals and often smooth talks his way into ladies’ beds. All temporary partnerships for his on-the-go lifestyle.
⋆☀︎. Until one day he comes across you, the girl with golden hair and big eyes — not to be underestimated with your ferocious pan wielding tendencies. He learns the last part a little too late, the hard way.
⋆☀︎. As he promised to take you to see the floating lights in exchange for the crown, he finds himself having fun swinging his fists and learning about your power to bring out the good in people.
⋆☀︎. You managed to charm tough guys in a bar, getting them to talk about their dreams—of being a florist, of performing on stage, and of falling in love. He realizes it may not be so bad to go on adventures with someone else.
⋆☀︎. He was already mesmerized before he learned about your magical hair. He saw the light within you long before that enchanted night when lanterns floated through the air like stars hung low just for you. And of course, they were always meant for you.
⋆☀︎. Before Mother Gothel could plunge the weapon in him, he already knew he was a goner. He knew he could never go back to who he was. He was now and forever going to be a moth to your flame, your soul as radiant as the sun even long after your golden hair turned brown.
Tumblr media
Blaise Zabini as Kristoff (Frozen)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
•❅*ִ Much like Kristoff, Blaise Zabini exudes a quiet confidence that does not need to declare itself.
•❅*ִ As an ice harvester who works with ice picks, hooks and ropes, he has an athletic build and a tough exterior, but do not be fooled for he has a soft heart within.
•❅*ִ Having grown among trolls and reindeers, he sometimes gets frustrated when interacting with people. He believes reindeers are better than people, but all that changes when he meets you.
•❅*ִ He is very practical and honest, but when he is blunt he often means well. He is quick to call you out on the fact that you’re about to marry a man you hardly know.
•❅*ִ He initially agrees to help you end winter to save his ice business and get a new sled. However, the more challenges you face together, he grows to admire your fearlessness and determination.
•❅*ִ While you initially find him to be annoying, you soon discover his charming and funny side.
•❅*ִ He will however suppress his feelings for you, thinking it’s better to let it go because you’re already engaged anyway. But when truths are revealed and no one is who they appear to be, you’ll melt his frozen heart with a kiss on the cheek.
Tumblr media
Draco Malfoy as Li Shang (Mulan)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
✿ To Draco Malfoy, loyalty and family legacy is important, just like Li Shang who aims to be just as great as his father, the head of the Imperial Chinese Army.
✿ He is disciplined and has mastered both physical and strategic ways of waging war. He has a lot of traditional beliefs, including making a man out of his troops using elaborate physical training.
✿ He starts questioning those beliefs when he sees your determination as Ping, using both weights to climb up the pole even though it took you countless failures throughout the night. What were these confusing feelings in his chest?
✿ Yet he couldn’t deny it, nor would he try. He was ready to lay his life down for you even before you saved him. It didn’t take him long to return the favor when he found out you were a woman and so he spared your life.
✿ Despite his firm upbringing, he was always loyal to his heart. Even though you betrayed the army, he knew your intentions had been good and that your hard work made you a skilled soldier.
✿ He listened and trusted your last ditch efforts to save the Emperor, even resorting to cross dressing as part of the plan. It all paid off as you saved the Emperor and all of China. 
✿ In the end, you were absolved of your deceit and honored for your heroism, finally letting your reflection show who you are and what you’re made of. Your final crime was stealing his heart.
Tumblr media
Tom Riddle as Aladdin (Aladdin)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
✶ Tom Riddle grew up as an orphan and resorted to a life of crime to survive in Agrabah. Secretly, he enjoyed it too.
✶ Smitten by your beauty, he saved you from a merchant at the market and he was impressed with your agility when it came to dodging the authorities.
✶ When you reached Aladdin’s home, you revealed you were from the palace and left thinking you’d never see him again. He longed to visit the palace to get another glimpse of your beauty.
✶ Named as a diamond in the rough, Jafar recognized Tom’s talent and recruited him to steal the magic lamp from the Cave of Wonders. Encouraged by the promise of riches (therefore power) and a subconscious need to please Jafar, he takes on the task, saving a magic carpet in the process.
✶ Back at the palace, your father sought to marry you off to find a successor to his throne. You met suitors, including a flashy prince called Ali from Ababwa.
✶ On a magic carpet ride, you trick Ali into admitting he’s the thief you previously met at the market. He manipulates you into thinking he’s the prince and the thief persona was just an act for him to get to know the city better.
✶ When Jafar uncovers Tom’s identity, he steals the magic lamp and wreaks havoc using the genie’s wishes. Understanding Jafar’s ego, he tricks him into wishing to be the most powerful being in the universe, which imprisons Jafar in his own lamp as a genie.
✶ Instead of using his last wish to continue being the rightful prince who can marry you, he used it to free the genie, as he has now learned how power corrupts others. It wasn’t worth it.
✶ Crowned as the next sultana, you recognized how our actions and choices defined us. Despite Tom’s manipulations, he showed up and was willing to learn. He was not afraid to look into the dark and make the right decisions when it mattered, a husband fit for a ruler.
Tumblr media
Lorenzo Berkshire as Jack Frost (Rise of The Guardians)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Before you come at me, I know Jack Frost is not a Disney prince, but I’m a Jelsa truther so here we are.
❅ Lorenzo Berkshire mirrors Jack Frost’s love for mischief and games. As the guardian of fun, he enjoys playing harmless tricks on children and hearing them laugh as a result.
❅ Beneath the playful exterior, he deeply cares for those around him, having saved his sister from a frozen lake. His ultimate sacrifice led to his untimely demise, which the Man in The Moon rewarded him by making him immortal and granting him powers. 
❅ He never found much need for romance, opting to spend his days playing with children and visiting his fellow guardians instead. Until one day, he visits the Enchanted Forest and comes across you, its mighty protector.
❅ Despite the initial distrust, he wins you over with his easy smile and sincerity. You never realized it until then, how lonely it was to be an ice queen without her king.
❅ Jack was also amazed to find someone else who could play with the magic of snow. He felt seen and understood like never before. For once, the loneliness in his heart melted away.
❅ So you spent your days together, laughing over silly jokes and exchanging stories. The cold never bothered you, but being with him made you understand why people enjoyed the sweetness of hot cocoa and why they cuddled close to a fire.
❅ Both your friends and family were happy for you. One day, Jack asked you to invite everyone so you can have a contest on who built the best sculptures. Your audience and judges comprised of Jack’s fellow Guardians, Queen Anna and King Kristoff, Olaf, and Sven.
❅ You showed off with iced gardens, towers, and even the shape of Sven, but none was more impressive as when you turned around to find Jack on one knee, a gleaming diamond in his hand. It was a picture perfect moment with ice sculptures in the background, celebrated with loved ones. 
❅ And soon, the ice queen would never be without her king.  
Tumblr media
✿ Masterlist <- read more!
434 notes · View notes
eternalsams · 11 months
Text
Irresistible ➻ Miguel O'Hara
pairing: Miguel O'Hara (Spider-Man 2099) x Black Cat (fem)!reader
warning/content: violence, so much sexual tension, swearing, actual plot, mention of nudity, no mention of y/n (gets called Kitty a couple of times), some heavy make out sess
summary: Miguel is sent in your world where there is no Spider-Hero to help him, you're the only person he knows there and good thing for him, you can help him. Bad thing for him, you won't stop taunting him.
words count: 3.7k
a/n: English isn't my first language, so please take that into your consideration
Tumblr media
"We don't need her, Lyla." Miguel groans at her as he walks through the lobby. "No, we don't. But you do." Lyla pops up on Miguel's shoulder with a grin. "Come on, she'll be of a great help, she knows her world better than anyone else here. Better than you." The little lady has a point, he had to admit it. He only visited a couple of times but didn't stay long enough to know his way into the thousands of cities. The only problem is that you were a pain in the ass for Miguel. Even though you were doing your job pretty fine, you were always torturing him with your constent teasing and flirting. It was just in your nature to annoy him. As another door opens before him, Miguel notices Hobie lying on a wooden box, fidgeting with his guitar. "Why don't we send Hobie there? I don't wanna see her and I'm pretty sure they would make a good pair." He grumbled before tapping on a screen for the last details. Lyla pops back up in front of him and crosses her little arms on her chest. "Because, you and I both know that they would make a too good pair. You can still focus when you're around her and you can discipline her as well." She chuckles, her laugh echoing in the lobby. "Is this about your kitty cat again?" Hobie chuckles as he tilts his head back and looks at his boss upside down. "Don't call her that." Miguel growls before setting the right coordinates on his watch and opening a portal. He puts his mask on and turns to Lyla. "You coming with me?" He asks her and she steps back. "Nah, I'm good here. Have fun with her!" She wiggles her little fingers in his direction before disappearing. Miguel sighs and steps through the portal, immediately feeling the rain pouring down on him. "Great..." He sighs and closes the portal behind him before jumping off the rooftop into a dark alley. He checks if anybody saw him and retracts his mask before changing into more casual clothes. That means old sweat pants, a white t-shirt and a sweater. He pulls the hoodie to cover his head and stuffs his hands in his pockets before walking down the streets. The neon lights lighting the dark streets and leading him to the place he knew you'd be.
When he finally recognizes your place he walks up the couple steps of your porch and hesitates knocking on your door. He knew how much you'd tease him for coming for your help. But when he checks his watch and sees the little time before the anomaly in this world would happen, it pushes him to knock on the door. He takes a few steps back and sinks back his hand into his sweater pocket. The door opens and he immediately regrets coming to you when he sees your smirk. "Well, well, well... Spidey." You lean on your door and run a hand in your white hair before crossing your arms on your chest. He says nothing, he doesn't need to, you already know why he's here. But you still ask. "Why can i do to please you?" He visibly grimaces at your choice of words and looks away. "I need your help..." He whispers under his breath. You perfectly hear him but that wouldn't be fun for you. "What was that? I can't hear you with the rain." You say as you cup your ear and lean a bit forward. He groans and looks back at you. "I need your help." He says more distinctively. You grin and steps back into your house. "Come in, then." You wait for him to pass the door and close it behind you. "I don't have the time for your little games." He says as he inspects his surroundings, making sure you won't trap him one way or another. He was used to it by now. "I know. But I'm pretty sure I can't really fight bad guys like this." You point to yourself and he seems to finally notice how you're dressed. Or how undressed you are. You're only wearing some loose shorts and a black tank top. And he didn't need to stand closer to see you didn't wear anything underneath. He quickly looks away as you make your way to your room to change into your suit. He uses this alone time to put back on his spider-suit and when he glances over at your room, he notices you left your door slightly open. On purpose. He can see you taking off your top and revealing your toned back, he could almost see the curve of your breast if you turned slightly to your right. He quickly looks away and clears his throat, checking for the umpteenth time his watch. "We don't have much time." He calls for you and you step out of your room, your combat goggles in hand. You look at him up and down, visibly satisfied by the sight in front of you. "Wow, looking good, Spidey! Have you been working out since the last time I saw you?" You run your fingers along his broad shoulders and down his firm chest. "Not your business. Can we focus on the mission?" You let out a faux-sigh and sit down on the table, rubbing purposely your foot along his thigh. He stares at you and looks down at your foot touching him. "Yes? Am I distracting you?" You ask with that oh so annoying smirk that get on his nerves. He swats your foot away with a grunt and makes appear a screen in front of you from his watch. "Micheal Morbius from Earth-386 decided to get too close to the multiverse doors and spread chaos around him." He informs you. "Any victim yet?" You ask, now focused on the mission. "No, only calls and damages. But I've already encountered one of them. They don't wait too long before shedding blood."
"Alright, where do you think he is now? And the most important question is, why do you need me with this? If it's only Morbius, you can take care of him by yourself. Hobie told me you've dealt with him before and it went great." You frown and jumps down from the table, looking around your living room to find something to tie up your hair. "How do you know Hobie?" He frowns and turns to you. "Wouldn't you like to know, Handsome..." You glance at him and smirk, tying up your hair and maintaining eye contact with him. Miguel bites the inside of his cheek to stop himself from cursing and looks away. "Morbius is mostly looking to feed off someone so maybe somewhere with some crowd where he wouldn't be too suspicious. Do you have any idea?" He eventually asks you. "Oh, so that's why you need me. You're like a lost puppy here." You laugh and he stares at you, telling you silently to focus back on the mission. "I have an idea where he might be, but you won't like it." You shrug and grab your keys before dropping them in a little pocket on the inside of your suit. Miguel raise an eyebrow at the action but doesn't say anything. "As much as I like seeing you in that suit, you'll need casual clothes for where we're going. "I already have casual clothes." You look at the pile of clothes he took off a little earlier and look back at him. "My grandma could wear this, this is not casual. Wait here..." You say as you walk back to your room. Miguel sighs and checks another time his watch, seeing the anomaly would soon happen if you didn't hurry up. You come back with a pair of jeans way too big for you and toss it at him before giving him a button down shirt. "Wear this. I'll wear something similar. We won't be recognized." Just as he was about to ask you something, you grab another pair of jeans and put them on over your suit. "Won't be very comfortable but if we need to change quickly, it's better." You grab a shirt and put it on, Miguel still staring at you. "Come on, Handsome! We don't have whatever you're doing." You grin and tap gently on his chest as he puts on his pants. You hear him groan and walk to the door, Miguel on your tracks, buttoning up his shirt. "You look great, honey." You smirk at him as you straighten his collar. "Where did you get those clothes?" He asks you, readjusting himself in the tight pants. "You don't wanna know." You smile up at him and pat his cheek before he fakes a smile when he opens the door to let you out first. "If you needed an excuse to look at my ass, that's a terrible one" You chuckle and pull you fur hood over your head. "So... Where to?" Miguel asks as he closes your door behind him and walks down the steps. You wrap your arm around his and start walking down the street. "I hope you don't have sensitive ears, Spidey. 'Cause you're about to hear some loud music." You look up at him and intertwine your fingers with his.
Miguel winces at the loud music around him, and just like you said, he didn't like it. He looks at you ordering a drink and you turn to him. "I guess you didn't bring your wallet with you. You want something to drink?" You ask him, leaning to his ear so he could hear you. To be honest, he could hear you even if you were standing at the other end of the club if he wanted but you wanted to be that close to him and he hated it. He doesn't respond and just stares at you. You turn back to the bartender and smile at him. "He'll take a water. Thanks." You slide a ten dollars bill on the counter and wink at the guy before turning back to Miguel. "We're supposed to stop Morbius, not get drunk." He scolds you, grabbing you by the arm. "I know, I know. Will you please let me go, people look at us strange." You grit through your teeth, that was the only thing you didn't like about him. He had a stick up his ass. He complies and grabs the glass of water the bartender hands him. You slightly smirk when he empties the glass in one go and sets it back down on the counter before grabbing your wrist and leading you over where the people where dancing. "You wanna dance, Spidey?" You tease him with a chuckle. "No." He simply says and keeps walking to the private tables in the back of the club. You notice a security guy looking at you weird and you trip purposely, holding yourself on Miguel's shoulders and giggling. He turns back at you and frowns, you only had one drink and he made sure it wasn't that strong, there was no way you could be drunk. He grabs you by the waist and makes you straighten up, looking at you in the eyes. "What's wrong?" He asks, worry painted over his face. You smirk a bit and his concern drops immediately. "I'm great, we just have to act normal." You explain but don't let go of his shoulders, holding him even closer. "And acting drunk is normal to you?" He raises an eyebrow. "In a club? Yeah, definitely. Come on, Handsome, take a seat." You pats his cheek because you know how much he hates it and push him a bit. "Wha-" He can't ask you anything and end up sitting down on a couch arm rest, you on his lap. "What are you doing?" He asks through gritted teeth. "Fading in." You smile and brush a few locks away from his face to look into his red eyes. "Use that Spidey sense of yours and find that vamp, will ya?" He clears his throat and wraps awkwardly his arms around you, closing his eyes and trying to focus on anything but the loud music and your ass rubbing on his crotch. He quickly re-opens his eyes and grabs your hand before leading you towards a table where a single guy was accompanied by three women. You tap Miguel's chest, making him understand you got this. You approach the table and untie your hair. "Hi. Is this the party I've been hearing about?" You ask innocently and you lock eyes with the guy. He stands up and you get a proper look at him. He's got long black hair, you can't really see his eyes but can definitely notice how dark they are. He's tall and skinny, but not the attractive way. "You're at the right place, sweetie." He smiles at you and you notice how chapped his lips are. He extends his hand to you and you take it before quickly pulling on it and punching him in the face.
The girls at the table scream and leave but you don't let go of Morbius's hand, not wanting to let him run away. Miguel is quick to join you and as he was about to yell at you for being so reckless, Morbius pulls on your hand, making you trip and you eventually drops his hand to roll on the floor and catch yourself up. You groan and take off your shirt before putting on your mask and shooting your grappling hook to the ceiling. You swing back to Morbius while Miguel make everyone leave the club. Your feet collide violently with the vampire's head and when you look back at Miguel, he's ripping off the shirt you gave him, revealing his spider-suit. He doesn't even care about his mask and stay exposed. He shoots his web to trap Morbius and struggles to keep him still. You grab a little bottle on your belt and remove the pin before jumping towards Miguel and tackling him behind one of the couch. The gas bomb you just set off explodes and you hear Morbius cough a little before he groans. "Fuck! I thought that would stop him." You grumble and roll off of Miguel before standing up. You look at your co-worker and notice his fangs. You've only seen them once and when you asked him about them, he ignored you. So you never asked again. You had your sensitive subjects and he had his. Miguel growls and jumps at Morbius before giving him a punch in the face and sliding his talons over the vampire's shoulder. You take advantage of his weakness to run behind him and wrap your arm around his neck, locking him against you. He struggles in your arms and Miguel approaches. "Move your arm." He says in a deep voice, making you comply. "He grabs Morbius by his hair, making him wince and lean over to his neck before sinking his fangs into his skin. You grimace slightly and you feel Morbius go limp in your arms. Miguel leans back and you look at him, curious. "What did you do to him? Did you kill him?" You let the vampire fall on the floor and notice his still open eyes. "Ew, dude, you're fugly." Your comment makes Miguel slightly smile before he quickly get back serious. "I paralyzed him." He simply says before tapping on his watch. A portal opens before your eyes and your lips part in awe. You knew where he came from but you've never seen where he came from. Miguel leans down and picks up the limp Morbius before throwing him over him shoulder. He was about to step into the portal before he stops and turns back to you. "You wanna come check it out?" He asks and you try to hide your excitement. "After you, I wanna check you out when you walk in front of me." You say and he chuckle, making you smile.
He steps into the portal and gets back into the lobby where Hobie is still playing with his guitar. "Don't you have something better to do?" He asks the younger man as he drops Morbius on the ground. "Oh, you're not dead. How did it go with your kitty cat?" Hobie asks, rolling down to stand up as he slides his guitar in his back. "Hello!" Your voice echoes in the lobby as you step through the portal before it closes and Hobie smirks. "I see it went well since we don't usually accept cats here." He chuckles and walks to you before shaking your hand. "Good to see you, Kitty." You smile at him and look around you, admiring the place Miguel founded all these years ago. "Welcome back!" Lyla pops up in front of Miguel and cocks her head to the side to glance at you. "I see the mission went well." She smiles at him. "It did? And ask Ben to take Morbius back to his world and make sure he stays there." He orders and Lyla nods before disappearing. Miguel turns back at you and quickly glance at Hobie. "I still don't know where you know him from and I'm not sure I wanna know." He pinches the bridge of his nose before he grabs something on a shelf and launches it at you. "Put this on or you won't feel good for long." You look down at the bracelets in your hands and put it on without asking any question. "Alright, come with me now." He leaves the lobby and steps into an elevator. You follow him and the whole way up is spent in complete silence. Neither of you dare to speak. Until you open your mouth. "We make a good team." You slightly smirk as you glance at him. "We do." He simply responds. "We should work together more often." You nudge him with your shoulder. "I don't think that's a good idea, actually." You roll your eyes out, the stick up his ass is back and went even deeper. "You're right, there's some things I do better alone." You look right in front of you and you can see from the corner of your eyes Miguel looking at you but not saying anything. "Some things?" He asks, raising his eyebrows. You hum in response and smirk at him. "Some things." You confirm. You hear him quietly chuckle and he shakes his head. "You're really something else." He murmurs under his breath. "Well, I hope I am. You spend your days with different versions of you, I do hope I'm different form you guys." Your fingers start grazing his and he looks down at your hand before looking back up at you. "Don't." You turn to him and take a step closer. "Why?" Your fingers play with the hem of his suit at his neck. You see his Adam's apple slightly bob and a smile stretches your lips. "Just don't." He repeats. You nod but don't step back.
"Kitty..." He says as a warning. "You've never called me that before." You cock your head to the side and play with his fingers. "Kitty." He says more sternly. "Spidey." You respond and that's the final stroke. He grabs you by the neck and smashes his lips on yours, taking you by surprise. You can feel his fangs nibble at your bottom lip and a mix of a grunt and a moan escapes you. He pushes you against the glass behind you and runs his hands along your body. That body that kept teasing him and he couldn't forget for years. He really did try to control himself as long as he could but you made it so hard for him to focus on the mission when you're constantly teasing him. He feels your fingers runs through his locks and tug at his hair, keeping him close to you. His tongue lick across your lips and you part them, finally tasting him after all those years. And does he taste good! One of your hands runs down his neck and holds onto his shoulder, trying to get him closer. His hands leave your face and go straight to your ass, kneading at the flesh. Your ass was just like he imagined it, you worked hard for your body to look like that and he wanted to feel every defined muscles under his eager fingers. He grabs you behind the knees and taps the back of your thighs. "Jump." He says between kisses and you comply, wrapping your legs around his waist. Your back against the glass wall of the elevator and your chest flush against Miguel's. You could feel all of him against all of you and it was intoxicating. The singular ding of the elevator makes Miguel drop you back on the floor and he rests his forehead against yours, panting. His red eyes looking directly into yours. Your heart beating so fast and hard against your chest it hurts. The doors open and Miguel's body mostly hides yours, so the person stepping in knows he's not alone but can't recognize you. "Having some good company there?" Miguel recognizes Ben's voice and he can practically hear the smirk in his voice. "I don't remember asking you anything." Ben's smirk drops and he clears his throat. "Lyla told me about Morbius, where is he?" He asks. "In the lobby." Miguel responds, still looking deeply into yours eyes and hiding you from the other Spider-Man in the elevator. You can't help but smile and you try to contain it by biting down on your lip. Miguel runs his tongue over his teeth to hide his smile too and drops his head on yours, his breathing finally steady. He looks back up at you and opens his mouth, looking for the right words. "We'll talk." He mouths to you and you nod, grabbing a handful of his suit and kissing him deeply before you heard another ding from the elevator. The doors open and you slip out of there, trying not to make any eye contact with Ben. "Was that that cat girl Hobie talks about?" The other Spider-Man can't help himself but ask his boss. Which earns him a glare from Miguel. "Take care of Morbius." He says before following you.
2K notes · View notes
thebestofoneshots · 6 months
Text
MARAUDWEEEN
Feels Like The First Time | James Potter x reader
Pairing: James Potter x Reader
Word Count: 6 k
Warnings: Smut, fingering, P in V, lots of praise, consent is sexy, lusty!James, bashful!James, he literally can't take his eyes off you.
Prompt: As a part of the Marauween Series, this fic takes you to an Alternate Universe where James Potter is a fireman, telling the story of how you met, and how your first time came about.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Maraudween is a Halloween-inspired anthology series where each chapter transports you into a distinct alternate universe. From the real world to old western Texas and even through the dark times of vampires. These standalone tales invite you into a realm of boundless potential. Experience the enchantment of Halloween as it weaves its spell, intertwining the magic of costumes, AUs, terror and spice.
NSFW (Smut under the cut) ♡
“What can I get you, sir?” You asked, not looking up from the register as you were trying to close the tab of the previous order. The machine had been acting up lately and no matter how hard you tried, it seemed to take its sweet time between closing an old order and opening the feed to start a new one. 
You were almost scowling at it when you heard a low chuckle from behind the counter, you instantly recognized it. The cute fireman, you felt your cheeks flush at the thought. 
“Everything all right, angel?” he asked, voice soft even as a little smirk played on his lips. 
“James!” you said with a smile, deciding to ignore the machine and talk to the man instead. He lived a few blocks away, in your same building, and he always passed by the shop to get some coffee and a snack before he finished his walk to work. Sometimes he came on his way back too, he was over so often, that you almost knew his orders by memory, “Americano?” 
He shook his head “I’m feeling up for something sweeter today.” 
You hummed in response, running his typical orders in your head “Late with a pump of strawberry?” 
He tilted his head, seemingly thinking about it, you couldn’t help to let your eyes linger over his uniform. He’d typically alternate between blue, yellow and grey. Today he was wearing grey and you would be lying if you said he didn’t look disarmingly attractive. He was big and well built too, but that was a lot easier to appreciate on hotter days when he wasn’t wearing his jacket on top of the usual either crisp white or neat black shirt, “Yeah, that’s perfect.” 
You smiled and started writing down the details in his cup. When you realised there was no one on the line behind him, you decided to prepare his drink yourself, instead of passing it over to Marcus, your coworker, and better barista between the two. James knew, and yet, he much better liked the drinks you prepared. 
“Want me to add a bit of whipped cream?” You asked. 
“You spoil me,” he said with a smile, you turned to give him a questioning look, a smile playing on your lips as he nodded, perhaps that’s why he liked your drinks best, they almost always came along with a smile. 
“You do spoil him,” Marcus added as he used one of the machines to draw pictures over a latte. 
You gave him a pout as an answer and continued with your preparation. Once it was done you turned around, Marcus had gone off to tend some table and you walked over to James, handing him his cup straight to his hands. His fingers lingered over yours as he took it from you and you felt your stomach flutter, “I’d add some cinnamon for spice,” you told him, he nodded and walked over to the sugar table, doing exactly as you told him.
“Hey, James?” 
“Hmm…?”
“Good luck at work today,” you added with a smile, Marcus from one of the tables almost rolled his eyes, while James’ smile only widened. 
There was a huge fire that day, you saw it on the news on the small TV in the corner of the shop, one of the old buildings near the centre of the city had caught fire. Since it had been during work hours there hadn’t been that many people inside, and thankfully no one died but about 2 dozen had ended up in the hospital due to smoke toxicity. Or so was reporting the news lady. 
“Do you think James’s all right?” you asked, turning to Marcus with a little frown. 
“Why don’t you go home and check on him? He lives almost in front of you anyway. This happened about an hour ago, he might be there soon...” 
You nodded, and hurried with the wiping of tables, still looking a bit nervous and rushed “I’ll finish up closing,” he added. 
“Thank you,” you said as you went to pick up your stuff and remove your uniform from the back room. 
Marcus called your name, you turned to him “Bring him something. His favourite treat of whatever… I’m sure you already know it by memory.” 
“I… Well, I mean…”  
“Don’t play dumb and just take it to him, whatever it might be. Would serve you well, maybe admit that you like him as well.” 
You flushed “Shut it, Marcus.” 
“He likes you back, did you know?” You gave him a look “Hey it’s true! I’ve seen the way he looks at you.” 
“He’s just polite.” 
“Polite my ass, he’s never looked at me like that. Go on, knock on his door, patch him up and admit your crush. Maybe get it going with him too. What do you think he’d look like with those snug pants and a pair of suspenders? Only a pair of suspenders.” 
You flushed a lot more this time around, the image floating to your brain unprompted, and you weren’t able to shake it off that easily. Curse your imaginative mind and Markus’ dirty one to put the idea in your head. 
“So… his favourite treat?” 
“It’s the lemon tart,” you admitted reluctantly. “He orders it whenever he’s feeling down. And also after bad days.” Markus smiled and leaned down to take two of them and place them on a small box for you to take home, “Thank you.” 
“Thank me when you’ve seen him with only pants and suspenders!” he joked, and you shook your head in disbelief, a smile still plastered on your face as you did. 
You got home after a short walk and went straight for a quick shower. It was then that you heard the thud of heavy boots in the hallway. He was walking towards his apartment. You hurried to finish and changed into simple shorts and a sweatshirt before walking the 2 door distance to his apartment. You took a deep breath and knocked on the door. 
There was no answer, you considered leaving, your nerves getting the best of you, but you remembered you still had the lemon tarts and decided to try again. This time you heard some shuffling and then the door opened, revealing James, still wearing his uniform, hair clinging onto his face from sweat and blotches of soot patching his cheeks, he looked tired, but he smiled the moment he saw who it was at the door. “Fancy seeing you here, darling.” 
You swallowed, his gaze having a powerful effect on you “I… I uh… I saw the news and well, I assumed you had been there, I guess I was right,” you added after gesturing toward your face, trying to refer to how blotchy he was “I thought I’d come to check if you were all right… I also brought you some of those lemon tarts you really like.” 
He stared at you for a second, as if trying to process the fact that you really had taken the trouble to bring him food, just because he’d had a tough day. When he realised you really were there, and not only a fragment of his imagination, he smiled “You picked my favourites,” he said pointing at the box. 
You gulped, as if scared of getting caught but nodded “You… order them often,” you said with a shrug. 
He hummed “And you know all of your client’s orders?” he asked, a flirty tone slipping as he moved to the side to let you in, nodding towards the kitchen, although you already knew where it was, since the layout of his apartment was almost an exact mirror of yours. 
“Only the ones of my favourites,” you responded, which got him to raise his eyebrows as he pulled out two plates and a pair of forks, placing them on the counter. You opened the small box and gracefully served one of the pies on each of the plates, he didn’t wait too long to dig in, moaning at the sweet and acidic flavour. 
“You’re the absolute best,” he told you as he continued to eat “Getting this after a fire might be the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” 
You just giggled at his exaggeration, you didn’t know he didn’t mean only the pie, but also your company. As the two of you finished your meal, you stood up to go back to your apartment but he stopped you, a hand gripping softly onto your forearm “Hey wait!” You turned to him “Let me pay you back.” 
You gasped and then shook your head. “Oh no, don’t worry about it, I get free treats since I work there.” But he didn’t let go of your arm just yet. 
You saw him bite his cheek, looking to the side as if trying to find the right words “Regardless, I–  Let me take you out, yeah?” 
“Out… to the door?” You asked with a frown “I mean I know where it is but–” 
“Out on a date.” 
“You want to– Me?!?” He nodded fervently in response. 
“So...?” 
You smiled, you were sure you were blushing madly but his nervousness only made him even more adorable “I’d love that.” 
He’d taken you to a small Italian restaurant that his friend Sirius had recommended, he told you about his life, about how he got into firefighting and you told him about yours, how you were working at the cafe as a side job to pay for your online studies. He thought you were a hero, which was almost ridiculous because if anyone was saving people between the two, it had been him. 
After that date you went on many others, he frequented the cafe a lot more often, sometimes to order something, sometimes to drop by a bouquet of roses or some other kind of flower. Markus had teased you relentlessly after that, but he really was happy to see you happy. He also started giving you treats to take home a lot more often, but that was because he knew you were always sharing them with James.  
“Thanks love, see you at dinner?” James asked as he took the takeaway coffee cup from your hands, you had written “Prongs,” and drew a pair of antlers on it just to tease him, since he’d told you about his friends giving him that nickname in school. 
You nodded in response “Sure, want me to bring something?” 
He leaned over the counter as if it were about to say something of the utmost secrecy “How about some of those chocolate tarts?” he whispered. 
“Sounds about perfect to me,” you agreed and gave him a quick peck on the cheek before pulling back. He smiled dumbly after that and waved on the way out, almost bumping into a tall teacher who was also your regular. 
“Watch your step, lover boy,” he told him. That day you found out Remus –the teacher who was a regular– and your boyfriend not only knew each other, but had been best friends for the longest time. He’d told you about him many, many times, but you had no way of knowing the calm, concentrated teacher who sat on his laptop grading students was the same mastermind prankster he always called Moony. 
“So… how does he look in suspenders?” Markus asked you as he eyed your boyfriend finally leaving. 
“Oh… well, I mean… I haven’t– we haven’t-“ 
“Shut it,” he said turning to you “You’ve been dating for a while now, like 2 months, right? Didn’t you tell me you slept at his apartment the other night?” 
“Yeah, I mean, I did… I fell asleep watching the telly and he didn’t want to wake me.” 
“I thought you meant something else…” he said as he shook his head “Maybe he’s asexual,” he added with a shrug “Total bummer for you.” 
You frowned “I don’t think he– I think he’s just trying to be a gentleman.” 
Markus shook his head, unconvinced “Have you tried to initiate anything?” 
“We’ve snogged a couple of times.” 
“And when it gets more heated?” 
You shrugged “Don’t know what to tell ya.” 
He hummed “You need to try harder.” 
“I need to try?” 
“Well to find out at least, don’t you want to?” 
You shrugged it off then, but truth be told, the idea had already cemented itself in your brain. You paid closer attention to the times you snogged after that. Be it on the couch, or the counter of yours or his kitchen, it was always romantic kisses and even if he certainly seemed affected, be it his ragged breath, pink lips or expanded pupils, he never pushed for more. Perhaps he really was waiting for you to initiate things. 
A few nights later, there was another fire, you had already gotten the key to his apartment so you waited over at his, bringing over some cream puffs and setting yourself on the couch while you waited. He arrived a little late, covered in soot like he had that first time you walked into his house with lemon tarts in your hand. He smiled the moment he spotted you on his sofa “Fancy seeing you here, darling,” he teased, echoing the words he’d said that first night. 
You smiled “How are you feeling?” you asked. 
He sighed, his shoulders slumped at that “We couldn’t… One of them didn’t make it.” You frowned, you knew he’d torment himself about it all night, so you walked over to him, taking a wet towel as he sat near the counter and started wiping some of the soot from his face.
“‘S not your fault.” 
“But if we had gotten there sooner maybe–“ 
You pulled his chin, making his eyes look straight into yours “Jamie,” you said sternly, trying to ground him “It’s not your fault.” 
He sighed again “I know, I know…” he said, and buried his head in your neck, smelling your perfume as he grabbed onto your hips, “Stay over tonight?” he asked “Please, I don’t– I don’t want to be left alone with my thoughts.” 
You smiled, placing your hand on the back of his head, brushing it lightly over his messy hair before settling it at the nape of his neck “Of course, my love,” you responded simply, and pulled his shoulders back to look straight at his face “come on, let’s get to the sofa, maybe we can play something on the telly to get your mind off things.” 
He pouted “I’m sweaty, and I smell of charred wood.” 
You tilted your head, a small smile drawing on your lips “I think you look sexy,” you teased, before grabbing his hand to pull him up and towards the sofa. He had a diverted look as he followed. 
They were screening Karate kid for like the 5th time that week, but both of you were watching it patiently. That was until the commercial break started and you turned to James, he had a small frown on his face, almost imperceptible, as if he were trying to hide it from you, but you knew him well enough to know. “You’re thinking about it again, aren’t you?” 
James turned to you, a sorrowful look in his beautiful hazel eyes, “I found them, I tried, but…” You kneeled on the sofa and gave him a bone-crushing hug, or at least your version of one, since you had about half the strength he did anyway. Regardless, you heard the huff of a laugh coming from him. 
You gave one last look at the telly, they were still going on some infomercial about a magical razor, yeah, no way in hell he gets distracted by that. “Hey Jaimie,” he hummed in response “How about we find another way to get your mind off things?” you asked, pulling back a little so he could see your face.
He gave you a look, “Like playing Monopoly or…” he didn’t even finish his sentence since you crashed your lips against his with a kiss. He was surprised at first but followed the kiss shortly after. Tightening his grip on your waist. 
“Like this?” you said as you pulled out for air. He still had a bit of a frown, so you leaned into him again, determined to erase it with a kiss. He pretty much melted into you again, at some point you crossed your knee over his lap and you were straddling his thigh. You didn’t lean closer to him too fast, you wanted to give him some time. 
Your lips started to travel from his lips to his jaw, he was right, he was sweaty, you could feel the salty taste of it as you kissed, and there was something else too, a little bit of that smoked flavour going on. You didn’t care, if anything, it really made him feel sexier. You landed on his neck, and started pressing wet kisses on a section you knew from experience he liked, and you heard a low moan coming from his throat, music to your ears. 
“Wait… wait… hold up,” he said as he patted your shoulder softly, you didn’t pull back “Angel, please, I’m gross right now…”
“Don’t care,” you said between kisses “I like the way you taste.” 
He stifled grunted after you said that –partly because of what you said, partly because of the way you sucked onto a particularly sensitive part of his neck– it was hard enough for him to restrain himself as it was, and you saying things like that was only making it harder. 
You, without quite noticing what you were doing, started grinding against his leg, not quite against his crotch yet thought, you could still think enough to know it’d be too soon. You leaned back, trying to get to his mouth when you spotted him, he had a rather interesting expression on his face, brows furrowed, as if he was trying really hard to concentrate on something, or not to concentrate on something. 
You smiled, holding back a laugh before placing your hand on his cheek, he opened his eyes, a worried look on his face “James, what is it darling?” 
He swallowed, his breath was heavy, “I’m just… I’m trying not to– thinking of something else.” You raised an eyebrow at him, not sure exactly what was going on until you saw his gaze flicker down to his crotch. 
“Oh.” You said quietly, and then, in an outburst of bravery, pulled your hand down to pat him. He hissed, grabbing your hand and pulling it back.
“That– that’s going to make it worse.” 
You smiled again, tilting your head just a little as you stared at your beautiful boyfriend “Allow me,” you said softly “I want to make it worse.” He looked at you as if he was trying to decipher whether what you were saying was true, and you leaned in to place a kiss on his cheek “Pretty please?” 
You had your forehead against his when he bit his lip and nodded, letting your hand free as you pushed it towards his crotch again. He was a lot harder than you had initially assumed he’d be, but you started rubbing your hand up and down regardless, feeling out his entire length which was nothing short of surprising. His head had somehow ended up on your shoulder again “fuck,” he said and trailed off with a few other curse words you weren’t sure you had heard him say before “That feels incredible Angel, You feel so good,” he whispered. 
Eventually, you pulled your hand backward and he gave you the most reproachful look, “Hey… I want to be able to kiss you,” you said softly before leaning in for a kiss and finally closing the gap between your bodies. You had been wearing a pair of simple lycra shorts, so everything felt very close when you finally leaned your hips over his, grinding your core against the rough texture of his firefighter pants. 
James was about to moan when you pulled him into a kiss again, so he moaned into your mouth, half attempting to return the kiss. His hands had now travelled to your hips, and he was helping you grind onto him, gripping almost a little too tight, not that you minded. If anything, you thought seeing this less controlled side of him was the hottest thing. 
Your hands travelled to his jacket, he’d been so lost in thought when he arrived home that he hadn’t even taken it off, but that was fine, you could help him with that now. You found the plate box and started to unbutton it one by one, he had been so engrossed in you that he didn’t notice what you were doing until you moved your hands to his inside shirt to push the thick jacket to the side. 
He helped you shrug it off and you set it to the side of the couch since you knew how much he cared for it. He gave you a smile through huddled lids and this time around he was the one pulling you towards him for another kiss. 
You went to the buttons of his pants this time around, grinding on his thigh in an effort to not stop the buildup you’d already created. “Angel what are you…?” 
“Material’s too rough,” you managed to mumble. His eyebrows knit in concern and he helped you in an instant. While he did that you fumbled with your shorts and took them off as fast as possible, not sparing a second glance to see where they fell on the floor, they were pretty ruined either way. He didn’t notice you had done that, not until you went back to straddle him and he felt the wet patch of your panties on his trouser. On his cock. 
“Fuck dove,” he said when he realized. 
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, almost shy, thinking he might think it was gross but he shook his head.
“Don’t be, it’s fucking hot,” he said as he grabbed onto your hips again and started sliding you against him, grinding you against him. This time there was a lot more purpose behind his movements, he was quite literally rubbing you right onto his cock, you could feel it almost in between your folds through the two layers of clothing separating you from each other. 
The room started feeling too hot, and you removed your hands from the back of his head and brought them to the hem of your sweatshirt, attempting to pull it off when his hands travelled to yours. 
He pulled back from the kiss and stared at you, searching for your eyes “You don’t have to– Not because of the…” he took a deep breath, trying to think straight “We don’t have to do this just to distract me.” 
Your expression turned soft, as you looked at him. How on earth did I get so lucky? You thought. You licked your lips, biting the bottom as you brought your hands to the side of his face. “It’s not just because of that, I want to do this Jamie, I’ve been thinking about it for a while.” He swallowed. “You think that sexy little uniform does nothing to me? I’m only human James.” He chuckled, eyes averting to the side in an adorably bashful expression that you were certain only James Potter would be able to pull off. When he looked back you gave him a teasing smile “Help me?” you asked again, nodding down. 
This time it was he who bit back a grin, almost giving you a wink before he let his hands to the hem of your hoodie and helped you pull it off. He stared at you for a second. You were wearing a simple sports bra, nothing fancy, in fact, you’d dare say it was a little embarrassing since the bottom hem was frailing a bit already, but that didn’t seem to matter to James. He was staring at you as if he’d seen the hottest woman on earth. As if you had been wearing the most exquisite set of lingerie. 
You blushed, obviously, you blushed, and hid your head on his neck so he wouldn’t notice, pretending you were going for a kiss, but he stopped you. “Hold up, I wanna enjoy the view,” he complained. 
“When I’m wearing nicer underwear I’ll let you,” you said, pushing against him to go to his neck again, but he was stronger, if he didn’t want you to move, there was no way in hell you’d be able to move. 
“Darling, your underwear is the last thing I’m paying attention to,” he said honestly. You took a deep breath and allowed him to pull you back, his eyes were blown with lust as he stared at you, at your bare shoulders he’d seen a couple of times, although not many since you started going out in winter and it still was winter. At the supple curve of your hips. At your breasts, you felt his hand twitch in your shoulder, as if he was holding himself back from touching anywhere else. 
“James,” you said, getting him to turn his gaze back to your face, although you noticed it flicker down a couple of times, “You can touch.”
It was as if that had been all the permission he needed, he brought his hands down, letting them roam through your bare waist as you started to grind against him again. He was harder, if that was even possible. He groaned as you rolled your hips against his, and started trailing kisses down your neck, setting in the curve of your breasts as you continued to dry hump him. 
He could see your hardened nipples through the thin cotton fabric. He’d actually seen them harden as he kissed, and then he did something you weren’t expecting, he held your waist and pulled you up a little, you almost whined at the loss of contact, but he pushed his head forward and gave an open mouth kiss to your breast, sucking and nipping through the fabric, you were now helping him hold you up with your own legs and holding onto his strong shoulders, absolutely lost in the feeling of his mouth. 
He pulled back, giving you a mischievous look as he trailed his fingers over the frilled hem, there was almost an innocence to the way he was looking at you “May I?” he asked. 
“Please.” He was already digging his fingers under the hem and pulling it over your head. “You too,” you added, pulling at his shirt. He quickly passed his hand to the neck of his shirt and yanked it off in a second. You gulped, you’d never seen anyone take their shirt off in such a hot way. 
He was staring at you as he placed his hand on your waist and pulled you towards his face, this time licking from the underside of your breast all the way to your nipple before he closed his mouth around it and started sucking again, without the fabric in the middle you could feel his wet tongue and teeth grazing against your sensitive skin, you arched against him, and moaned his name when he bit softly. 
His other hand was already massaging your other breast, kneading it and brushing his thumb over your nipple every couple of seconds. It felt incredible, and you relished on the feeling until your neediness got the best of you, “James,” you somehow managed to form the words, and grabbed the hand that was still kneading on your breast, pulling it down, to your core “Here, please.” 
You saw him pull back to look at you, and he swallowed thickly but nodded, moving to kiss your neck as he traced his fingers over your wet panties “fuck, you’re so wet,” he whispered between kisses. You gripped onto his shoulder a little harder, when he pressed his finger onto your folds, you were already pretty sensitive from so much rubbing onto his hard uniform pants that even the slightest touch had you on fire. 
After toying with you for a bit, he slid his finger through the hem and pushed your panties to the side, digging his fingers on your folds, while his thumb searched for your clit. He found it in the blink of an eye and you were pretty much bucking your hips against his hand in search of more friction. He let out a breathy laugh “So needy,” he said before setting one of his fingers near your entrance and digging it in. 
His finger was long, much longer than yours and it reached places you wouldn’t have dreamed of, he curved it in a particular way and you let out a gasp “Yes! Please, James, do that again,” you said as you panted, he obliged, and had you grinding against his hand again in no time. 
“Angel you’re too tight,” he whispered as you leaned in to kiss him again, slowly lowering yourself onto his tight. He went in for another finger as you kissed him and swallowed your whimper. He was already moving his fingers and slowly opening them inside of you, trying to prepare you, in case you wanted to continue because hell knew he did. 
He pressed his thumb against your clit again, he could feel you faltering on him, your hip movements becoming sloppier as he continued to rub “Jamie I’m gonna…” 
He kissed your neck “Please do.” 
You leaned closer to him digging your nails into the muscles of his back as you bit your bottom lip. James separated from your neck for a second to look at you, you looked fucking stunning as you whimpered and whispered his name and a few course words almost incoherently. 
“So fucking stunning,” he told you with a smile. It took you a second to come back and be able to pay attention to him, to the way he was looking at you. 
You huffed a laugh “Shut up Jamie,” you said with a smile as you shook your head, he still had his fingers inside you, and it looked like he didn’t have the intention to remove them any time soon.
“How are we doing?” he asked. 
You frowned, “Why do you– oh.” He flicked his thumb over your clit again, thrusting his fingers in and out in a rather sharp way “James you aren’t thinking of…” 
“Of course, I’m thinking of it angel, I need to see that pretty face of pure bliss on you again.” 
You almost let him convince you but you shook your head. You didn’t miss the way his smile faltered, you leaned into him, making sure to let your clit rub onto his thumb again as you shifted your weight and your hips “Not until I see yours,” you whispered in his ear, bringing your hand down to the hem of his boxers and digging your hand to grope him. 
He groaned at your harsh movement, but his head fell back, an expression rather similar to yours as you dragged your hands through his length. 
“Help James,” you said, words cut with sharp breaths from the effort you were making to pull his boxers down. He lifted his hips and helped you do it, all the while you continued pumping him. There was already a bit of white precum coating his tip, even if the boxers had sucked up most of it, you used it to allow your hand to glide easier around him. 
“Faster,” he asked, you complied, he was already bucking his hips into your hands, “fuck doll I think I’m going to– “ You instantly stopped moving your hand and his eyes snapped open, looking at you like you had betrayed him. But you didn’t give him an explanation, you used your legs to prop forwards and lined him against your entrance “Wait, doll–“ you lowered yourself onto him, “fuck.” 
You gulped, allowing yourself to adjust before giving him a look, he was looking at his cock buried in you attentively, and he swallowed thickly, you didn’t wait too much after that, and started grinding onto him, “Fuck Jamie you fill me up so good,” you whispered, as if he needed any more encouragement. You thought he did since he wasn’t moving, but that wasn’t the reason he wasn’t. 
He grabbed onto your hips, and halted your movement “fuck, angel, hold up– I need–“You looked at him worriedly, accidentally bucking your hips again as you tried to search for his eyes, and then you felt it. Wet and sticky, inside you. He’d cum.
He looked at you with the most mortified expression on his face, as if he was sorry “I’m– I’m so sorry I…” 
You just laughed, placing your hand on his cheek to prompt him to look at you “Hey, It’s okay my love.” 
“But I didn’t… Not even like 30 seconds I–“ James was completely flustered, you weren’t sure you’d ever seen him that flustered before, you pulled him into a kiss. 
“I’m taking it as a cumm-pliment,” you told him, he gave you a reproachful look and you gave him a peck on the lips. A small smile wavered its way towards his lips. 
“That’s the– what a terrible pun,” he added. You bucked your hips against him again “fuck.” 
You raised your eyebrow at him “Keep insulting my puns and I won’t help you with your little issue,” you threatened playfully as you started to buck your hips again, helping him empty himself completely. This time a lot slower, enjoying the way he felt on you, the way he was filling you up, how much easier it was to glide onto him with his warm cum all over you, some of it dripping to the side of your thigh and onto his already, you continued until he patted on your tight. 
You nodded and pulled out slowly, setting yourself on his lap still. He still seemed awfully bashful, “Come on Jamie, I really don’t mind it.” 
“But it was– our first time and I… ugh” he placed his hands over his face, groaning as he replayed the events in his head.
You bit your tongue not to laugh. At least he wasn’t thinking of the fire anymore. Mission success? You sighed and placed your hands onto his own and pulled them down, tilting your head a little in search for his eyes.
 “How about…” you started, it seemed to gather some of his attention, although he was still looking at you with a dissatisfied expression “We go get a bath, and clean up…” you continued, he had finally lifted his head towards yours “we relax together a little,” you added, letting your fingers trace over his muscles, “we clean all the soot of that pretty face of yours,” you added, pinching his cheek which earned you a playful scowl from his part “and then chill for a while, see what happens next,” you finished, making sure your tone, raised eyebrows and half bitten bottom lip was suggestive enough. He looked at you, a diverted smile playing on his lips. “If it makes you feel better, we can pretend the shower was our first time instead,” you added just to spite him. 
He huffed, a smile on his face as he placed his hands on your waist and stood up, holding you against him with ease. You squealed and laughed at the sudden action “James!” you reprimanded “We didn’t even take your boots off, you’re gonna fall and drop me in the process,” he looked down and groaned when he realised it was true. Regardless he tried to jump his way before the two of you ended up back on the couch. You were laughing merrily as he huffed. 
“Come on hot fireman,” you told him with a smile “Take off those pretty boots of yours…” you smiled as you sneaked out of his grasp “I’ll meet you in the bathroom.” 
He pretty much groaned as he saw you leave, staring at your ass as you disappeared through the door. 
Tumblr media
A/N: this one came out so much sweeter than I expected it to, but I kind of love it. It really captures that James Potter humour, doesn't it? Maraudween and The Five Senses are the anthology series where I explore writing smut, all as a way to hone my skills for the moment I write it in my Wolfstar x Reader series that's currently being posted on a weekly basis. If you have feedback, please leave it in the comments below. I absolutely love reading your comments &lt;3
Taglist: @starchaser-lily
Leave a comment stating it if you wanna be tagged on the next chapters of Maraudween
Want to support me? Consider liking and reblogging this post (reblogs help get my work across).
The Maraudween Materlist
919 notes · View notes
babyleostuff · 10 months
Text
pool date | xu minghao
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
☾₊ ⊹ currently playing: tamed- dashed by enhypen
summary | pool date with Minghao in Macau (+ other members annoying you :>)
genre | fluff 
word count | 1.8k
author’s note | I’ll need at least a week to recover from Mingyu’s and Mingaho’s photos, they want us dead fr (thank you for the boyfriend pics tho)
“You want to go swimming?” Minghao suddenly asked you, lifting his head from your lap. After their concert yesterday he swore he would use this day to rest, but hearing the noise and laughs coming from the gigantic pool below, he couldn’t resist.
“Sure, why not,” you smiled at him, giving a nod of approval. You spent the whole day together laying around and talking, so finishing it off with a couple of hours at the pool would be the best way to end it. 
You excitedly got up from the couch and went straight to your bedroom to find your swimming suit, leaving Minghao alone in the living room. Grabbing your phone on the way, you immediately dialed your best friend’s number, in hopes that they would help you pick out the best one. 
“Okay, listen. We’re going to the pool and I need help with choosing my swimming suit,” you said straight away, opening your suitcase.
“Hello to you too,” you rolled your eyes, searching for the bottoms of one of your bikinis. 
“I’m sorry I didn’t call you earlier, but everything was so hectic yesterday that I totally forgot. Forgive me, please?” you picked up your phone from the bed and set it next to the suitcase. 
“It’s okay, I’m just joking,” your friend laughed. “Now show me what we can choose from,” they said, getting closer to the camera to see you better. 
“Okay, so we have this one, but I think it might be a bit too revealing.”
“You think? People might get a heart attack if they see you wearing this. Leave this one for when you two are alone, you dork,” you laughed at their comment, but agreed wholeheartedly. 
You didn’t even know why you packed this, it’s not like it was a private pool, where you could actually use this one to your advantage. 
“What about this? Is this one family friendly?” you showed them the next one, which was a much safer option. 
“Oh, it’s so pretty. You’re going to look great in this one. And Minghao is going to love it as well,” they wiggled their eyebrows in a suggestive tone, making you snort. 
“It’s a pool full of kids, nothing is going to happen,” you said with a straight face. 
“Well, maybe not in the pool, but who knows what might happen after.”
“You know what,” you sighed in a joking manner. “Thank you for your help, but I’ve got to go.”
“Okay, remember to stay safe though. And have fun!” 
You quickly changed into your swimming suit, putting on one of Minghao’s t-shirts as well. Making sure you had everything ready, you grabbed your and your boyfriend's books from the bedside table, sunglasses and a sun cream and put them in one of your bags. 
“Okay, I’m ready,” you said, entering the living room space. He quickly got up and disappeared in the bedroom, only to come  out a second later. 
“How come are you always so quick?” you laughed. 
He simply shrugged and grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers. Smiling at him, you put your hand at the back of his neck and gave him a sweet peck on his lips. 
“I love you,” you said. 
“I love you too, honey. Now come on, let’s go,” he exclaimed, kissing your lips once more. 
As the doors to the elevator started slowly closing, some loud noises came from the hallway. And it was a very distinctive noise that you would recognize anywhere. Just as you were about to ask Minghao whether the boys are coming as well, a yellow floaty appeared between the closing doors. 
“No way. You’re going to the pool too?” asked Mingyu, entering the elevator with a towel and two big floaties, wearing only black sunglasses and his swimming trunks. Now you were a hundred percent sure that the attention of the whole pool was going to be on him. 
“Yeah, what a coincidence, right?” Seungcheol came right behind him, carrying his own stuff. 
“How many more of you are there?” asked Minghao, slightly annoyed. You knew that he wanted to spend this day alone with you, especially since you wouldn't be able to see each other that often back in Korea because of his schedules. 
“Just us,” said Mingyu. “And them,” he added, as Jihoon, Chan and Soonyoung entered the elevator as well. 
“What? We just want to spend some quality time together,” spoke Chan, as he saw the irritated expression of your boyfriend. 
“We see each other literally everyday,” he sighed and looked up toward the ceiling. 
You sent an apologetic look towards the boys, asking them silently to understand Mingaho and not bother him too much. 
You put your other hand, the one that wasn’t held by your boyfriend, around his bicep, stroking it gently with your thumb. Squeezing his hand, you reassured him that no matter what, this day was going to be perfect, and nothing could destroy it, not even his annoying members. 
As Mingaho turned his gaze towards you, a smile playing upon his lips, you felt your heart flutter - you couldn't help but drink in the sight of him, captivated by the depth of his affection apparent in his eyes. You send him a small smile as well, leaning your head on his strong shoulder. 
The moment the elevator doors opened, Mingyu and Chan were out in a second, probably the most excited about the pool. The rest of the boys teased them of course, commenting on their childish behavior despite being in their 20s, but they looked almost as excited as them. 
You and Minghao were the last to leave, trailing slowly behind them. Not wanting to bring any attention to yourselves, you found two empty sun loungers in the less crowded part of the pool area. Setting all your stuff aside, you took off Minghao’s shirt and took a look around. 
The afternoon sun blazed high in the cloudless sky, casting a glow over the poolside. The air hummed with the sounds of laughter, splashing water, and the gentle rustling of palm trees in the breeze. The scent of sunscreen mingled with the sweet fragrance of nearby flowers, and anywhere you looked, there was an air of relaxation and pure bliss.
“Should we go in the water?” Minghao asked. 
“Yeah, sure,” you said softly, following his lead towards the shallow part of the pool. 
You took your first steps into the water, immersing yourselves in its cool embrace. The sensation enveloped you, sending shivers of delight through your bodies. You waded deeper, the water rising higher until it enveloped your torsos, providing a refreshing respite from the heat.
“It’s actually colder than I thought it would be,” you said, trying to get used to the cold sensation. 
“Oh, really?” you could hear Minghao’s mischievous tone, but didn’t expect him to do anything. It’s when you felt a cold splash of water on your back, you heard Mingahao laugh loudly. 
“You did not just splash me, Hao!” you exclaimed, though not annoyed in the slightest. 
“It seems like  I just did,” he said proudly with a smirk on his face and splashed you again, drenching you completely. 
“Ugh, you asshole,” you beamed and threw yourself at him, making him lose his balance and fall into the water. You couldn't help but to smile widely, and let out a joyous laugh upon seeing his confused state, while being under water. 
He quickly got up though and wrapped his long arms around you, trapping you in his embrace, not giving you a chance to run away. 
“Let me go, Hao!” you exclaimed, trying to wiggle out of his grip. 
“Not a chance,” he said, and just as he was about to throw you under the water, a familiar yellow floaty hit the back of his head. 
“Hey, I found them,” suddenly Mingyu appeared, waving towards the rest of the boys. 
Seeing the slight agitation on Mingahao’s face, you pulled him toward you. 
“Hey, why are you so annoyed with them hanging out with us?” you asked, your voice laced with concern. 
He hesitated a bit before answering, not wanting to be that bad friend. “I just wanted to spend this day with you, and only you,” he said, adjusting his sunglasses. 
“Look, I can just tell them that I want you all to myself. Then they’ll probably leave us alone,” you put your hand on his cheek, making him turn his face towards you. You pulled his glasses on top of his head, making sure he was looking you straight in the eye. 
“No, it’s okay. I don’t want to ruin everyones’ day, just because I’m in a bitchy mood. I’m sure we’ll have a lot of fun with them too,” he send you a reassuring smile, guiding you by your waist towards Seungcheol and Chan. 
“Yes, our favorite couple is back!” Mingyu cheered and pushed Soonyoung under the water at the same time. You were sure that someone would end up dead, if they wouldn’t stop acting like literal toddlers.  
Minghao joined Mingyu in his shenanigans, teaming up against the older ones. You couldn't help but laugh at the silliness of your boyfriend and his friends, and feeling extremely grateful that they finally got some time to unwind and relax. 
“What did they do to you to get you out here?” you asked, joining Jihoon by the pool’s edge. 
“I figured since I’ve never been to Macau before, I should get out of my room and see something at least. And I really didn’t want to go out to the city with Wonwoo and Jeonghan,” he explained with a hint of humor in his voice. 
“Well, that explains everything,” you laughed and turned your gaze back to Minghao. 
You spent some time chatting comfortably with Jihoon and observing your boyfriend, before they decided it was time for photos. 
“Okay, I’ll take yours and you'll take mine,” said Mingyu, giving Minghao his phone. 
During the next couple of minutes, the boys each took their turn to pose and take photos with the amazing pool and hotel as the background. You instructed them how they should pose when they were out of ideas, because not only as a girlfriend, but as a fan, you’d know what would make Carats go crazy. 
“I think they all look great. You’ll have a lot to choose from,” you said, approaching Minghao and putting your arm around his waist. 
He looked at you with a soft smile, wrapping his arm around your shoulder, pulling you further into his side. You nestled your head against Minghao's shoulder, finding solace in his proximity. 
“Thank you for today. It was perfect,” he whispered into your ear and kissed the side of your head. 
Feeling like words weren’t enough to express how grateful you were as well, you leaned in slightly, your lips brushing gently against Minghao’s. It was a sweet and innocent moment, a tender expression of your shared affection.
“By the way. Could I maybe see the other swimsuit I heard you talking about?”
“Xu Minghao!”
1K notes · View notes
dragonmama76 · 9 months
Text
Eddie and Corroded Coffin are back in Indy for the last stop on their first national tour.  It’s been a whirlwind and they are grateful to have a night off at home before their last concert.  Even though they are physically exhausted, no one wants to sit in the hotel.  Gareth calls down the desk and asks the concierge to suggest some up and coming places they might take in a show and a list is sent up right away.  Looking it over, they decide on Greener Pastures which has a drag cabaret.  The concierge made a note that it was a new break out hit with a wildly talented headliner.  
Fame will get you everywhere, so their manager, Chrissy, calls the club to make sure they won’t be standing in line to get in and they are assured that they will be able to slip in before the official opening of the night.  
Robin Buckley generally loves her job as the weekend floor manager at Greener Pastures.  Even though in real life she is still a bit socially awkward, here she plays her part with ease.  Dressed in a fashionable, tailored suit with her hair slicked back and some heavy eye makeup she has a confidence that she fervently wished she could carry into her personal life.  But when she gets the call from the manager of Corroded Coffin she can feel the facade slipping a bit.  Assuring her that getting them in quickly and quietly is no problem, her brain starts to go into overdrive.  But this is her job and she knows how to execute.  First stop is the doorman.  “Harry, we have some VIPs coming in soon.  You know Corroded Coffin?  Well we are hosting all four of them tonight.  Please walkie me when their car pulls up and go ahead and let them in right away.”  “Sure thing, Rob!”  Harry replies, nodding agreeably.  Second stop is her lead waitress.  Robin instructs her to sit them at a front table and make sure they get the best service.  And then finally, well, she has to tell Steve.   
Steve stares at Robin, his mouth open just a little.  “I’m sorry, what?  It sounded like you just said that Eddie was coming to see the show.  You can’t possibly mean our Eddie.”  
“I do.  I do mean our Eddie.  Eddie Munson.  Corroded Coffin front man and our old pal Eddie.”  
“How?  I mean….do you think he KNOWS??”
“How should I know??”  Robin throws up in her incredulously.  “Their manager called and said they were coming and could we make sure to have space for them and maybe let them in early and I just said great and of course and no problem and now I’m here talking to you.”  
“Okay, Rob, breathe.  I’m sorry.  Don’t get stressed.  You just go out and do your job and I’ll do mine and it will be totally fine.  We’ll see him and he’ll probably recognize us and it will be just fine.  It’s not like what we do here is a secret, we just haven't seen him since he left.”  
Robin nodded.  “I know you keep saying it will be fine and I’m sure it will be.  Fine.  Of course it will.  I mean, look at us!  He may be a rockstar but WE are fucking amazing ourselves.  You’re practically famous in this town as it is.”  
Steve smiled big, “That’s the spirit!  Hey!  Let’s do the VIP number tonight for his table.  Make sure Maria sets it up, ‘kay?  Love you Rob, but I have to get ready!”  
Eddie and the guys are having a great time enjoying the show.  The singers are all fantastic and the performance is top notch.  Plus the service is some of the best they’ve ever had.  Their waitress is attentive and friendly.  He makes a mental note to thank whoever it was that suggested they come out here tonight. 
Suddenly the lights go out and the announcer’s voice booms out,  “And now, our very own, the lovely Miss Stevie!”
The music starts with a quiet riff and suddenly the spotlight shines in front of Eddie.  Miss Stevie is sitting on a stool that’s been placed right in front of Eddie.  She gives him a big wink and sings,  
The minute you walked in the joint, I could see you were a man of distinction, a real big spender.
Eddie sucks in a breath and can feel a blush rising.  He enjoys a man in drag, but he wouldn’t say it’s normally an attraction for him.  This is a definite exception.  
Good looking, so refined. Say, wouldn’t you like to know what's going on in my mind?
Miss Stevie was something else.  Gorgeous brown eyes and a teasing smirk.  Tall sparkly heels, fishnets, babydoll slip dress.  She reminded him of someone, but his mind couldn’t hold on to a coherent thought.  She was singing right at him and he never wanted her to stop.  
So let me get right to the point, I don’t pop my cork for every guy I see.  Hey big spender!  Spend a little time with me.
As the chorus of ladies came in to pick up the song, Steve leaned down to whisper in Eddie’s ear, “Hey man, if you want to come backstage later and say hi,  just let Rob know” Indicates Robin with flourish and a wink, and hops gracefully back on stage to continue the song.  All the while flirting with Eddie for everyone to see.  
The song ends and Eddie applauds enthusiastically, wanting it to never end, but also hoping it would end quickly so he could go meet this beauty.  
A couple songs and an encore later and Miss Stevie finally struts off-stage for the last time that night, blowing a kiss to Eddie as she leaves.  
Robin heads over to Eddie.  “Mr. Munson, Miss Stevie mentioned you might want a private tour backstage?”  The guys hoot and holler while Eddie blushes, but he eagerly agrees to go. Turning to the guys he shoos them out the door,  “Okay, alright, I guess I’ll see you guys bright and early tomorrow!  Don't get into any trouble on the way back to the hotel.”
Robin is already moving at a brisk pace, so Eddie picks it up, never quite managing to catch up to her as they move around tables and down a dim hallway past open doors with performers kicking back after the show.  Finally, they get to the last door and Robin knocks once and enters.  
Steve is at his makeup vanity, wig off, carefully wiping his face when he catches a glimpse of Eddie trailing behind Robin. He turns grinning, and in his best Southern accent says, “Why, Eddie Munson, as I live and breathe!”
Eddie does a double take, “STEVE HARRINGTON??  What the HELL, man??”
Steve and Robin collapse in a fit of giggles while Eddie just stares.  
When the fit of laughter eventually subsides amid comments like, “Your face, man!  I wish Jonathan was here to capture this all on film!”  and “I thought you would have at least recognized Robin, though!” 
 “Yeah, what’s up with that one??  Have I changed that much since high school??” Robin demanded.  Eddie sputtered,  “It was dark in there!  And no offense, Buckley, but you were NOT who I was paying attention to.  Christ, Steve, how does the King of Hawkins High become the reigning Queen of Indianapolis?”
“Couldn’t take your eyes off me, huh, big boy?”  Steve purrs, and enjoys watching Eddie turn a delectable shade of red. 
529 notes · View notes
s-uwu-binie · 1 year
Text
↳ ❝ [unfiltered fondness]! ❞
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
➻ txt x gn!reader
➻ nothing but fluff ^^
⤷ nothing could really hide away the oh so obvious liking of these lovesick boys for you.
Tumblr media
𝗰𝗵𝗼𝗶 𝘆𝗲𝗼𝗻𝗷𝘂𝗻
choi yeonjun. a name that rings familiarity in so many people’s ears. a name that brings desire amongst people. a name that you’re lucky to call yours. well, at least that’s what you think, which is a resounding contrast to the envious glares you feel on your back. it doesn’t get easier when you hear their whispers.
as the night went on, the pressing weight on your back seemed to be getting to you as the silk that delicately draped on your body now felt suffocating more than ever.
“baby?” a hand that felt too familiar settled its warmth on the small of your back, tracing patterns on the fabric wrapped on your skin. as much as the touch brought extreme comfort to you, you can’t seem to find the words to speak out the thoughts that rang like an endless mantra in your head.
receiving no response from your end, yeonjun took it in his own hands, gently tugging you along as he led you two to the balcony. and once seeing the space empty, yeonjun immediately jumped on the opportunity to talk. “talk to me, y/n.” he asked, taking a step closer to you. “please?”
hearing the distinct crack in his voice at your lack of response prompted you to look at him for what it seemed like the first time this night. and as your eyes met with his, you can almost immediately recognize the shine in them, staring at you as if you hung the stars in the night sky, and yeonjun would’ve believed that if it was up to him. you’re literally the prettiest human being he laid eyes on.
it's only such a shame that others don't share the same sentiment. he would've thrown hands, honestly speaking.
you sighed, seeing that he won’t budge from his lovestruck stare any time soon. “just... why me, jun?” you love him, you really do. how can you not when he is the embodiment of perfection. but it just doesn't make sense.
your eyes stared up into his once again, challenging him as you waited for an answer. an answer you hope would be the end of it all. however, the reply you got wasn’t all what you were expecting.
“why?” he paused, letting out a deep chuckle that nearly sent your heart soaring if it were not to your current concern. “i love you. that’s why.”
“no. no, that doesn't make sense.” you gestured to the both of you, “we don’t make any sense, jun.”
heaving a sigh, yeonjun took another step, bridging the gap. “i don’t need to have a reason why i feel the way i feel. i just do.”
almost not believing your ears, you were ready to retort if it weren’t for your boyfriend’s interruption. “i honestly don’t care about what they say or think. i’m the one dating you, not them.”
aand to emphasize his point, yeonjun takes one final step to you. one final step to touch your aching heart. “yeonjun-”
not wanting to hear anymore of your doubts, he seals the promise between the both of you. cutting you off this time with a sudden pull at your waist and a soft kiss on your lips, ultimately clearing away all previous doubts and what ifs.
“i don’t care how complicated this gets, i still want you.”
Tumblr media
𝗰𝗵𝗼𝗶 𝘀𝗼𝗼𝗯𝗶𝗻
you were starting to feel sorry.
it wasn’t like this in the beginning. it was all about taking spontaneous walks in the nearby park, touring in museums, eating out in multiple food stalls around the city, splurging in convenience stores, and so many more that you can’t even count. 
and now, it’s all about sleeping in an empty bed, waking up earlier than the other then returning to the shared apartment with the other already fast asleep, and cancelled dates.
rainchecks and cancellation of milestones were a normal occurrence now. but all you wanted to do was to cuddle into the safety of your blankets and sleep the whole day away with soobin. but of course, the timing was never right as you watched soobin pick up his coat, getting ready for another day at work. perhaps, you two needed to take a break somehow?
“someone’s got a staring problem this morning, huh?” soobin teased, looking over his shoulder. chuckling, you throw a pillow, hitting him straight on the face. “no i don’t.”
soobin let out a scoff as he waddled over to your form on the sofa. “you look troubled lately, bubs,” he said while reaching for your hand before he started playing with your fingers, fiddling with them as he stared up at you from his kneeled position. 
“just thinking about something…”
“ahh, that’s never good.”
you jokingly slapped his arm, shushing him from teasing you even more. “as i was saying,” giving him a pointed look. “maybe we need to…”
you couldn’t bring yourself to say it. it simply felt wrong in your mind, it nearly made you sick to your stomach.
wordlessly, soobin gazed upon you as you struggled to find the right words to say, but soobin already knew what you wanted to convey. he just didn’t want it to be true. “let’s not, please.”
as you breathed in, you shook your head and gripped his hand. If there had been an easier way to talk it out, you would’ve already done it. but the lump in your throat and the tears in the corners of your eyes made it so difficult to breathe. “i’m afraid that-”
“that i’d leave just because we’re busy? that i’d drift away from you because of my tight schedules?” soobin rambled on as he got closer to you, but not completely standing up from his seated position. “you know i wouldn’t do that to you, y/n.”
with his hand gripped firmly in yours, the other one reaches out to caress your cheek. and out of habit, you leaned in to his warm touch, “i know, but what if something happens. what if we grow further apart, bin.”
“oh, bubs.” he grinned at you from ear to ear, as if you weren’t the messiest you’ve ever been with your teary eyes and runny nose. “you can trust that i’ll stay forever.”
and despite the heart-wrenching meaning behind his words, you can’t possibly ignore the flutter it brought to your heart. “when did you get so cheesy?” you land a light-hearted jab on his shoulder, which earned you his laughs and cheeky smile, occupying the quiet apartment with his honey-like melodies. 
as his laughter and your hiccups died down, the question in your mind still lingered in the air like smoke. “forever?”
“yep.” soobin replied with a playful hum, now deciding to lean even closer to you, so close that you can feel his heartbeat from the way your palm rests on his chest. he looked down at your hand on his chest, beaming at the sight before locking eyes with you, gaze softening. “here…”
he gave you one more look, taking a good amount of time to admire every bit of you. “...with you.”
Tumblr media
𝗰𝗵𝗼𝗶 𝗯𝗲𝗼𝗺𝗴𝘆𝘂
words can’t describe the tiredness that seeped through your bones as of this moment, and it was taking a drastic toll on your body. as much as you wanted to stop everything you’re doing, you can’t. you needed to get this done for tomorrow morning, well more like later. 
sneaking a glance at the wall clock adjacent to where you were sitting only further confirmed your suspicion. 
3:53 am
well, so much for getting it done in the morning. you sighed, completely exhausted. and for a few more seconds the only sounds that filled the living room was the ticking of the clock, reminding you that you should be typing away at your laptop, and not leaning back on the cushions behind you as if you didn’t have a tight deadline in four hours. 
“what do you think you’re doing?” your ever loving boyfriend stood in front of you, hands firmly placed on his hips, looking eerily similar to how your mom used to scold you back home. 
you flinched at the sudden interruption of silence. “gyu, i thought you were asleep.” you put the laptop aside on the space beside, taking a good look at beomgyu’s unamused expression. 
“i didn’t feel you beside me when i was sleeping.” he pouted, “you left me all alone, baby.” 
right, ever the most dramatic too as he lunged himself at you, almost knocking your laptop off the couch. all you could do was reach over and hope that your laptop wasn’t snapped in half. “you’re such a mess, gyu.”
the only reply you got from the man was an utter look of disbelief and a whine you’re so familiar with. “so are you.”
“touché.”
“so, what’s going on with you?” beomgyu turned to you, making himself comfortable as he buries his face in your neck. “is something bothering you? is that why you can’t sleep?”
“nope, i’m just busy.” you were a lot of things, yes. but you weren’t exactly a good liar, and beomgyu knew that. 
“tsk, look at you lying to me.” his voice sent vibrations from your neck down to your spine as he spoke softly, tone contrasting from the clear teasing from his words. “since when were you this shameless, babe?”
a sigh left your lips, deciding to come clean to him about it. “fine. i’m exhausted.” it was all becoming way too much. you could only take too much before you start to buckle under the immense work and pressure you’re harbouring on your shoulders. “i want to sleep, but i know i can’t. i still have a lot of work to do.”
“why didn’t you tell me this sooner.” beomgyu peeked from your neck, “and don’t you say it’s because you didn’t want to bother me.”
“took the words right out my mouth there.” you chuckled, now feeling more worn-out than ever. it also didn’t help that beomgyu started to comb your hair, slowly playing with your locks and massaging your scalp. 
beomgyu didn’t reply after that, only silently threading his fingers through your hair once he took note of your change of breathing. once he made sure you were knocked out, he carefully slipped away from your arms, gently laying you down on the couch. 
“you’re so mean, you know that?” he glanced at your sleeping form. his eyes trailed from your furrowed brows, which he smoothed out with his thumb. beomgyu also noticed the clear signs of insomnia on your face, shaking his head in disappointment as he saw the dark circles under your eyes. 
“don’t leave me out of your struggles, share it with me.” beomgyu wasted no time in opening your laptop, and started typing away with you snoring peacefully in the background. 
imagine your surprise when you woke up in the afternoon with your document already sent with beomgyu clinging to your waist, head buried in your chest. 
Tumblr media
𝗸𝗮𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗮𝗲𝗵𝘆𝘂𝗻
the door slammed shut, footsteps soon following it. it wasn’t long after when the sound of plastic hitting the table.
“you wreck me, love.” taehyun blurted out, lowering himself down to sit on the opposite of you from the coffee table. he says it like you had an idea of what he was referring to, he even got his arms crossed, staring you down. 
wow, okay. that came out of nowhere.
“i think i should be the one asking that question.” he sighed, nodding at your scribbled notes. “you eaten yet?”
as opposed to replying, you continued to take notes, keeping your eyes on the page while trying to ignore his stare. and for a couple of seconds, the only noise that filled the room was your pen scratching against the paper and your steady breathing.
“yeah, that’s what i thought.” taehyun brought out another plastic bag, taking out its contents. you soon later recognize the familiar packaging from your favourite fast-food place. 
“eat up, sugar.” taehyun slid the take-out container to you. “i’m not that hungry, tyun.” you said without looking up from what you were doing. 
truth was, you haven’t eaten yet. you didn’t have the time to really prepare or order yourself anything the whole day. but as stubborn as you are, it’s getting rather difficult to suppress the urge to grab the food that taehyun’s tempting you with. but nope, you figured you should be finished with your work first, a habit that taehyun absolutely hated with his entire being.
“you love me right?” he asked, opening up another container for himself, taking a big bite, chopsticks already grabbing another piece, offering it to you. 
“of course i do.”
he set his chopsticks down, propping his arms up on the table. “do you love me?” he repeated. 
“yes, tyun. i love you.” you exclaimed, finally setting your pen down, giving him your undivided attention for the time being. 
taehyun hummed in response, satisfied with your answer. “is that so?”
you nodded enthusiastically.
“if you really love me then prove it.” he nudged the styrofoam filled to the brim with your favorite appetizer. you gotta admit, he honestly came prepared for this, he’s got all your go-to appetizers up to your ideal dessert. just as expected, he never misses a single detail. “just one bite at least.”
you groaned, giving in to your hunger, hands reaching out to taehyun’s outstretched one, “fine.”
“now, give me that.” he demanded, wasting no time in snatching your pen and notebook as taehyun began jotting down your notes for you, letting your body rest for a while as he contently fed you with his other hand, knowing that you can’t really digest the thought of leaving him hanging. 
“i love you more, by the way.” his sharp eyes glanced at you for a moment, a smile tugged on his lips while he said this.
“i love you mo-” as you struggle to speak, he shoves another mouthful of food into your mouth to shut you up. “talk me to me when you’re full. i can’t bear seeing you like this.”
Tumblr media
𝗵𝘂𝗲𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗸𝗮𝗶
“here,” kai handed you the tissue box, watching you sniffle and blow your nose in amusement. “it’s not that deep, sunshine.”
you shot him a look of disbelief, brows furrowed and lips curled into a scowl. “how could you say that, hyuka?” you point to the disney movie playing, “that right there should be hitting you in the feels.”
all you got was a series of his hyena laughter, even throwing his head back, coughing by the end of it. 
you scoffed, “serves you right.” your words contradicting your actions as you urge him to drink from his bottle of water, patting his back while you’re at it. 
once his coughing fit died down, transitioning to small wheezes here and there, he turned to you again, pushing the box of tissues towards you, even taking it upon himself to wipe away your tears. 
“you know…” kai leaned on your shoulder, staring at you through his thick lashes. “i think i really like it when you cry.”
you pulled away from him, which led to his head falling off your shoulder, landing on your stomach. “excuse me?” you asked, eyes scanning him top to bottom to check if something’s up or if this is another form of his nonstop teasing.
kai hurriedly put his hands up, waving them around in a panic. you narrowed your eyes on him. “wait!” 
“before you chastise me.” he paused, “don’t get me wrong. i meant it as a way that i admire that you stay true to your emotions.”
you stayed silent, prompting kai to continue. “i just think it’s nice, you know?” he went on to say, taking in the oozing curiosity in your orbs. “i already love you so much, and i still find so many reasons why i love you already,” he stopped to meet your eyes, sparkling with adoration, he then hid his face in your shirt, voice muffled as he said bashfully, “...if that makes sense.”
your vision blurred once more as you took in the meaning of his words. you didn’t know how you got so lucky to score a guy like kai, to have the opportunity to love such a kind soul as his. he only proves to you everyday how much you mean to him in the best of ways, and somehow, this fact only brings a new set of tears to your already swollen eyes. 
“ahh, i’m crying again.” your hands rubbed your puffy eyes, though gently this time when you started to feel the sting around the area. “ayy, stop rubbing it. it’ll hurt more.” kai’s warm hands wrapped around yours, lightly pulling them away from your constant smearing. 
his left hand intertwined with yours, an action that doesn’t miss to make your heart skip a beat. he does this while the other snatched a tissue to pat on your tear-stained cheeks, “my crybaby.” he chuckled even more when you started bothering him to watch the movie after hearing you murmur something under your breath. but of course, it wouldn’t be hueningkai without the constant bickering. 
kai titled his head at you, eyes never leaving yours. “i think you got it wrong, bub.” he beamed at you, like sunshine, “i’m the lucky one here.”
Tumblr media
all rights reserved © s-uwu-binie
2K notes · View notes
hero-israel · 4 months
Note
I think there needs to be a reckoning about how so many white (passing) American secular/nonpracticing antiZionist Jews can say "Not in my name, Israel doesn't speak for us!" and then think they can speak for Israel. How so many of them can have a limited familial connection to Israel, have such a disdain for Israelis, Israeli culture and society, and Israel as a concept, and then have the gall to act like their opinions matter?
I see their attitudes be described as fear, but to me it strikes me as more than just fear. A lot of them, I suspect, have incorporated antiZionism as a fundamental part of their Jewish identity. It's not just a disagreement, they're not just saving face. Take away the Goyim and talk to them privately and they still believe what they believe, and express it in the same way. They hate Israeli Jews.
And Israel is only going to become less Ashkenazi (aka less "white") as time marches forward. The bad faith hysterical Israel bashing and condescension is only going to look more and more like Orientalism, and frankly, racism.
I think it's very possible that calling something antisemitic can't just be a catchall term when this chicken comes home to roost. I think if there aren't already, there will be distinct forms of antisemitism, some that only Diaspora Jews face and some that only Israeli Jews face. And if this is true or will end up being true, it's pretty important that we not speak over each other's experiences. To do that we have to recognize these experiences and respect them. Do some Israeli Jews disrespect the Diaspora experience? Yes, from what I've seen. Is it nearly as vitriolic and is it growing nearly as quickly as the disrespect for the Israeli experience among antiZionist American Jews? Not even close.
All this divisive language to say: sometimes when Israelis say "so and so is antisemitic!" in the context of antiZionism, they're talking about themselves, their experiences, the stakes for them, and not Americans. So maybe we should all learn to stay in our lanes sometimes.
A lot of Israeli Jews disrespect, or at least are unable to grasp, diaspora existence, particularly when it comes to Americans. I can't even count the number of times I read Israelis say "Why are you American Jews so upset about Trump? Don't you see how good he's been for Israel?" Which is the worst damn argument a person could possibly use - it feeds into both left-wing and right-wing antisemitism, while ignoring that American Jews live HERE and are at risk from Trump's fascist cult and general lawlessness. And it is bad FOR EVERYBODY to have "pro-Israel" become the position of stroke-babbling grotesque racist criminals, and also for America to be too focused on anarchic decomposition and Yugoslav-style street warfare to be able to support Israel like it traditionally has.
And because turds of a feather flush together, Netanyahu wants ALAN DERSHOWITZ to be Israel's advocate if the ICJ case proceeds. I knew Netanyahu was a senile failure undermining all the strengths he had ever built for the country and this is just the shit cherry on top of the shit sundae. Alan Dershowitz is the ultimate stereotype of a Boomer who was kind of useful in the 1980s-90s and became awful and embarrassing now, Trump is surrounded by them (i.e. Rudy Giuliani). Your grandma in Florida remembers Alan Dershowitz for writing "Chutzpah" and being tough and quick-witted, and everybody under 40 knows Dershowitz as a Trump cultist and Epstein fuckbuddy. Big "Vladek Spiegelman can only compare his artist son to Walt Disney" energy. There are surely thousands of lawyers better-suited for the role, just off the top of my head I'd prefer Eugene Kontorovich and so should anyone who is more aware of the world as it actually is than how it was in 1994.
I say all that to parallel your original point, not to contradict it. Yes, the American Jews who performatively loathe Israel are by and large just an Extremely Online phenomenon of the most college-town bubble-protected, least observant, least affiliated, and least aware of non-Ashkenazim. It is not so hard for American Ashkenazim to stay protected from antisemitism as long as they totally unplug from their Jewish identity and any public-facing aspects of it. Can't be killed in a synagogue or JCC or kosher store if you never go in, head tap.
270 notes · View notes
azurevi · 1 year
Text
from the eyes of the beholder
pairing: leona x gn!reader
summary: 5 times others know that leona is head over heels for you, and the 1 time he acts on it. 7.5k
note: just pure, innocent fluff ❤️ reader = ramshackle prefect
Tumblr media
1.
Jack liked to imagine himself as a somewhat perceptive person, especially with his large ears catching wind of exchanged whispers and his outstanding olfaction that allowed him to pick up distinctive scents. As reserved as he seemed, he tended to watch things from the sidelines and keep note of different people's quirks and whatnots, and so more often than not he would surprise others with his hidden knowledge and observations. All in all, he knew quite well about people around him.
Or so he thought, because whatever was unfolding in front of his widened eyes was making him doubt all his previous judegements about his much respected dorm leader. 
It was mid-afternoon with the sun hanging high in the sky, burning with murderous intent. Jack, having had the misfortune to be the first student spotted by Crewel, was tasked to 'bring him the disobedient cat who would rather sleep than attend his lessons'. Jack recalled the places Ruggie would go to find Leona and found himself in the botanic garden in no time, eyes scanning the lush green and distracting flowers. He smelled his presence first, then noticed something else mixed in that woody scent.
His confusion only grew when he recognized its owner, who was none other than the prefect of Ramshackle. The trail led him to a spot shielded by a thick canopy of banana leaves, and right underneath was Leona, serenely asleep and– wait, is he sleeping on the prefect's lap? And is that their hand in his hair?
Jack blinked. He wasn't hallucinating.
Your face brightened in recognition when he finally shuffled close enough. "Hey Jack! Here to check on the cacti?"
"...No," despite his initial shock, his voice gave nothing away. Leona spared him one glance before promptly closing his eyes again. "Crewel asked me to bring Leona to class, but… what are you doing here?"
As if just now realizing yourself, you removed your fingers from Leona's silky hair, earning a dissatisfied huff. "Your dorm leader here caught me passing by and made me his personal pillow. I haven't moved from this position for hours."
Jack hoped that you were only exaggerating about the time, but frankly he was too preoccupied with other thoughts to care. For one, the painfully arrogant, prideful, and self-assured prince was resting his head on your lap and letting you thread your fingers through his locks? The Leona who would scowl and glower whenever someone so much as brushed against his tail? The Leona who would bite someone's arm off before ever giving them the idea that he could be anything less than almighty, let alone soft?
"Just tell Crewel you failed. I'm not about to ruin my nap to brew stupid potions," Leona stated, stubborn as usual.
"No way, I'm not missing my classes so that you can have your fun in dreamland. Get up!" You nudged him. No movement. "Jack, can you help me drag him off?"
Before the poor boy could take a step, Leona growled. "Don't you dare. Just give me ten more minutes, damn it."
"That's the third time you've said it." You deadpanned, to which he responded with a half-hearted hum. Seeing as he wasn't moving any time soon, your shoulders slumped. "I'm sorry, Jack. I'll bring him over as soon as the ten minute mark passes."
It was less than ideal to have to go back to Crewel empty-handed, but there was no convincing Leona when he was hell-bent on doing something. With a defeated sigh, Jack nodded. "I'll be relying on you then, prefect."
If there was one person in NRC who could be deemed trust-worthy, it had to be you. He mentally gave himself a pat on the back before bidding goodbye.
In reality, didn't leave right away. He knew that he shouldn't intrude on his friend's life (let alone his senior's), but curiosity got him in a chokehold. Besides, he needed to make sure that you wouldn't get your wrist torn off if you tried anything else.
"It's quite unfair, actually," you mumbled. "All you do is lie around all day, how do you even pass your classes?"
"Everything the school’s teaching, I’ve already learned back home." Leona's mouth curled into a smirk. "What, are you jealous?"
"As if," you rolled your eyes. As if out of habit, you started smoothing his mane out again. With each gentle stroke, Leona's face relaxed into a peaceful expression, and his ears twitched in what Jack could only identify as delight. You must've noticed it too, because something akin to interest flitted across your feature. Jack's stomach dropped. He had seen that look many times before, and it was a telltale sign of trouble. 
After only a bit of hesitation, your outstretched hand moved to touch Leona's fluffy ear. That's it, Jack thought. You'd done it– poked at the hornet’s nest, shoved your hand inside a tiger’s yawning mouth, threw yourself into a river filled with piranhas. It was nice knowing you. There was no way you were going to get away with this.
Leona's eyes shot open, his nose scrunched in annoyance. "Careful where you touch, herbivore."
"Fine. My bad," you removed your hand with great reluctance, returning to dedicate your attention to his hair. The moment carried on as if nothing had happened, and within seconds Leona was already snoring.
What the hell was that. Jack swiveled on his heels and let his legs lead him away. In his head was only thoughts darting around, trying to make sense of why exactly Leona acted so differently towards you. The fact that he had you stay during his sleeping time was already out of character enough, but to let you off after you touched his ear, one of the most sensitive parts of a beastman's body? 
There could be something going on here. Jack had a hunch on what it was, but he didn't feel like jumping to conclusions just yet. For now, he should just sit and watch.
At the end of the day, he got caught by Crewel again. It turned out that Leona never showed up for his lesson after all.
2.
It was a breezy afternoon, but for Epel it was hotter than ever on the sports ground. The Magift Club was having its routine training, and everyone was dedicating their best even though it wasn't a real tournament.
His own heartbeat was the only thing he could hear as he dashed towards the opposing team's goal, the golden disk hovering right beside him. Yells and heavy steps followed him, but he was determined not to let his legs give out. Eagerness lurched inside his throat as the net neared, and he angled his arm to throw the disk–
-- only to get thrown off balance by a gust of wind. He landed on his butt with a groan, and looked up to see the disk in the possession of one Savanaclaw student. Cursing under his breath, he swatted the dirt off his knees and dived into action again.
After some more intense chasing and magic being thrown around, he headed with the rest of the team towards the benches, where Leona was sprawled out on a chair, sharp eyes heavy-lidded and coated with sleep. It wouldn't be a surprise if he turned out to have slept through the entire match.
"... Your weakness is that you only know how to charge forward." Leona commented just as Epel was about to take a sip from his water bottle. "You can't improve if you never learn how to look out for ambushes."
"Ah… thank you."
Alright, so maybe he hadn't been out for the count after all. Nonchalantly, Leona shifted into a more comfortable position, his face angled away from Epel. Even if he came off as detached and uncaring most of the time, there were occasions where he would give out short yet valuable advice and prove that he had been keeping an eye on his members. Epel only hoped that he could see the renowned player in action more often. Sadly, it only happened once in a blue moon.
"Ah, look who's here," Ruggie said. Epel followed his gaze and spotted you walking across the field, holding a paper bag large enough to topple you. It wasn't rare that you would drop by and visit. In fact, most of them had been looking forward to you and swarmed you with warm welcomes (presumably because they knew you were hiding snacks in that bag, but Epel decided not to comment on that when his stomach was rumbling too).
"Where's Leona?" You asked once you've given Ruggie a bag of donuts. The grinning hyena jutted his head to the side, "Lazing around as usual. Wanna stay and watch us play?"
You arched your head back and scanned the clock above the rows of seats. "Sure, I have some time to kill." You gave him a thumbs up and made your way towards the chairs at the front. 
Epel watched as you kicked Leona's chair to wake him up. He was too far away to hear whatever you were talking about, but you looked pretty close, chatting away with an exchanged chuckle here and there. Even though Leona still looked sleep-laden, he rested his head on his fist and kept his eyes on you the whole time.
One was his club leader, and the other was his close friend. He was starting to wonder how you two had become so close when Ruggie threw his arm around his frame. "Time for round two! What, you still haven't finished the cookies? Need some help?"
Epel quickly shoved them inside his mouth. "No fran qu (no thank you)!"
Everyone had already spread out in two teams when Leona promptly stood up from his humble 'throne' and stepped onto the field. "Wait. You, swap with me."
The second-year student in question pointed at himself and blinked. 
Leona frowned. "Do I need to repeat myself?" 
"N-no!" The student ran off with his tail literally between his legs. Epel's eyes followed the man as he made his way to the front of the opposing team, stretching his muscled limbs. 
The match started as soon as you blew the whistle. If Leona actually getting on the field was out of the ordinary, then him putting effort in playing was enough to leave one flabbergasted and dumbfounded. He didn't even have to lift a finger to weave his way through the wall of opponents. Yet, as Epel watched on, he couldn't help but feel both amazed and startled at the same time. 
Amazed, because Leona really lived up to his name as one of the top players among the long list of magic schools. He was quick on his feet, never letting anyone so much as touch the hem of his shirt as he flashed past defenses. In fact, his moves were so unpredictable and fast that whatever formations that had been discussed dissolved within moments as everyone scrambled to block him. But that was not all– he was tactical. One moment he was making others chase him so that he could sweep them away with one single hit, the other he was planting traps on the ground and sneering as they fell victim. It was like he could predict everyone's move.
There was no chance of beating him even if he had his eyes closed all the way. Though Epel's eyes were trained on the lone figure, he could hear your voice booming across the field.
"Ruggie! Epel! Go get him!"
"Ugh, I'm trying!" Epel clenched his jaw and rushed forward, shouting as he prepared to launch a sneak attack from behind– then Leona turned his head and smirked.
It only took fifteen minutes for Leona to render everyone useless. Epel dragged himself towards the benches and dropped himself carelessly, limbs sprayed out as he tried to catch his breath.
"Did you have to go that harsh on them?" You said as Leona returned with nary a bead of sweat. There was a touch of playful reprimand in your voice.
"They need to be humbled once in a while lest they become too full of themselves." 
You two moved somewhere else, the air carrying your words away. The temporary silence was replaced by Ruggie's wheezes. "Jeez- lemme catch my breath. That was hell."
"I know right," Epel answered weakly. "Do you think Leona-san joined because we weren’t doing good enough?"
"Please, he wouldn't bother," there were sounds of a paper bag being rustled. A moment later, Ruggie spoke up again, this time with food in his mouth. "The answer is pretty simple, actually. Why do you think he worked so hard out there?"
"...He wanted to kick our asses?"
"Nah, that's too much trouble. If he wanted to kick your ass he would've asked me to do it." Epel wasn't sure what to feel about that information. "The truth is- he just wanted to show off, duh."
Epel craned his head so he was facing Ruggie. "Show off? To whom?"
"C'mon. Just see for yourself."
He did as told, scanning the place and eventually spotting you still talking to Leona, this time playfully shoving at his arm at something he had said. There was this look on his face that Epel couldn't put a name to. He'd seen it on someone else though: Sebek as he gushed about Malleus, Rook as he read a magazine with Vil's face printed on the cover, Cater when he came across something Magicam-worthy. Epel knew exactly what these displayed feelings were, but then it would mean that–
"Leona-san worked us to the bone just so he could impress the prefect?" Epel all but barked out the accusation. Ruggie giggled at his reaction and shrugged, leaving the boy even more exasperated. That wasn't really the point, but irritance was clouding his senses at that time. It was only until he was back in his room and lying in bed that he would start to connect the dots and let out a loud, stunned gasp.
3.
The café near NRC had been flooded with customers all day, and the queue only lengthened as time passed. Cater squeezed his dry eyes shut, having scrolled on his phone the whole time he was waiting outside. 
Ever since a famed influencer on Magicam had complimented this café in a post, it had been getting all the hype. Cater couldn’t miss out on the fun, even if everything on the menu was too saccharine for his liking.
After what felt like millennia, he finally got inside the shop. It looked like pink had vomited all over the walls, but it should look aesthetic enough for the folks on Magicam. Cater spotted a vacant seat by the window and rushed towards it. From the corner of his eyes he could see a man heading in the same direction. 
“Shit-“ the man cussed as he tripped. 
“Ah, my bad.” Cater raised his hands and stepped away. The man muttered something under his breath and looked up. The seat had already been taken by the… same man that had just run into him?
Cater chuckled quietly as the man looked around the shop, then back at him again. His unique magic really came in handy sometimes.
He ordered the most famous dishes and turned to his phone again. Perhaps he would give them to those adorable first-years later, or just send them all to Trey.
After a while, even the endless scrolling came to an end. Cater pressed on the home button and waited for the page to refresh. Emerald eyes wandered lazily around the room, rounding when he caught sight of a familiar figure.
If it was any other person, Cater would’ve thought that his eyes had deceived him, but there was no mistaking those ears and long tail. That was definitely Leona Kingscholar, standing in queue with his hands shoved inside his pockets. Much like Cater, he was still in school uniform, and the look of irritance on his face made him stand out like a sore thumb in this sugary world.
Just what could he be doing here? Cater knew that the man wasn’t particularly into sweets and pastries. He definitely wasn’t one to follow trends either. Not to mention that he had zero media presence… unless he had a private account?
Leona’s tail flicked. The man in front of him suddenly crossed his foot in front of the other and stumbled out of the queue. Leona quickly stepped up and silenced whatever the man was going to say with a glare.
In the corner of the café, Ruggie’s shoulders shook with laughter.
Even with underhand methods, there was only so much the two could do to shorten the waiting time. It took another fifteen minutes for them to finally get to the counter. Cater watched with intrigue as the barista stuffed two well-loved red velvet cakes into a white box and handed it to Leona. 
Ruggie quickly finished one of them as soon as he got his hands on it, and Cater read ‘worth the effort’ from his lips movement. The two left with the untouched piece sitting peacefully inside the box.
Well, that was something. Cater shook his head and started snapping pictures of the desserts that had arrived moments ago. To think that Leona of all people would wait in line just for a piece of cake… his thoughts went on as he mindlessly typed out a caption. Could it have been for someone else ?
Nah. No way. He couldn’t imagine Leona ever lifting a finger for anyone other than himself. 
Night was already creeping on the horizon by the time he finally finished posting. The walk back school was accompanied by more scrolling. The prefect’s profile icon popped up in the ‘story’ section. Cater clicked in without a second thought.
It was a photo of a red velvet cake. The red velvet cake. The text above it read ‘pleasant surprise from an unlikely party!’ 
Within moments, he was already scanning the entire photo like a detective. There, in the right corner, was a tail. No doubt about it. And he knew the tail— he had just watched its owner spend nearly half an hour lining up in the cafe.
"Now isn't this an interesting discovery…?" Mischief passed over his eyes for a split second, his legs picking up the pace. It seemed that desserts wouldn't be the only thing he would be delivering today.
4.
It was nothing out of the norm for Leona to spend Monday afternoons napping under the tall apple tree. In fact, he went there so routinely that he might as well become one with the background. 
Today, though, something had changed. Or as Rook would call it, love was in the air, because under the tree were two figures in lieu of one.
You were sitting cross-legged against the trunk, sheets laid out around you like a protective shield. Every once in a while, Leona’s tail would mess them up, and if you berated him he would feign innocence.
“Come on Leona, you’re the only one who can help me with this.” You nudged his knee.
Rook squinted, his eyes locking onto the documents. There, on the top of what seemed to be the cover page, read ‘Sunset Savanna’.
Ah, a history project then.
“Ask Ruggie.”
“I would if he wasn’t busy doing your duties. So you’re stuck with me.”
Leona made a low grumbling noise, but Rook noted that his face showed no sigh of annoyance. How unfair! The first few times Rook approached the beastman during his nap, he received nothing less than distasteful glares and venomous threats.
One more evidence supporting his hypothesis.
“Fine. You have five minutes to ask questions.”
A smile bloomed on your face, one that Leona didn’t fail to catch. It was only a flash, easily overlooked, but Rook saw it crystal clear— the subtle tenderness intruding on his scowl. It disappeared as quickly as it’d come.
“Alright. So what’s Sunset Savannah like?”
“Hot.”
You heaved a sigh. “You’re not cooperating here.”
“Maybe your questions are too vague, herbivore.”
“Ugh- fine! Let’s start with the people. Do you guys have a mascot or something?”
Leona shifted so he was lying on his side, left arm propped up with his head resting on his palm. “There’s this warthog and meerkat everyone loves. They’re supposed to be related to the King of Beasts. Personally though, I couldn't care less.”
"How about something that cannot be found anywhere else?”
“Mm. Hot spring eggs,”
“You guys have hot springs?” With the way your eyes twinkled with interest, Leona couldn’t help but give in.
“No, it’s a volcano…”
Your ‘interview’ stretched out for far longer than five minutes, eventually jumping from general knowledge to Leona’s own experience with the place he grew up at. 
“Sure, the sunset is beautiful, but the real show begins when night falls. All kinds of stars come out, perfect for sentimental beings like you.”
“I don’t believe that you’ve never looked at them before.” You challenged.
Leona scoffed, reaching to scratch the back of his ear. “Only as a kid. It gets boring.”
“The privilege is showing, your highness,” you sighed wistfully, angling your head so you were gazing at the bright sky. “I wish we had stars here too.”
“If you really want to see them, I can bring you there next time.” 
Your face lightened up. 
“Of course, it comes with a price.”
You rolled your eyes. “And what will it be?”
A dismissive hum. “I’ll decide later.”
“I’ll be looking forward to it then.” You started packing your things, missing the way Leona’s tail swished. Even if you had noticed, you probably wouldn’t have understood what it meant. Rook tittered into his palm as he watched on.
“Leaving so soon? I expected more questions,” Leona said. 
“I'd rather not get on your bad side by keeping you away from your precious nap. I’ll come to you if I need anything—“ your words were interrupted with a sharp hiss. In your careless movements, the paper managed to slice through your skin, leaving a stinging cut.
Leona picked up the smell immediately, his eyes trained on your finger. The slit was unnoticeable at first, but red eventually started to bloom around it. 
“Tsk. How careless are you?” He jumped onto his feet and snatched your hand, observing the cut. Your eyes danced between his face and the wound, much like a flustered rabbit. 
“It's just a cut.” You started, trying to hide your hand. But his grip on you was strong, albeit not enough to hurt. 
“No it's not. You could get an infection and end up troubling me again. I’ll get you bandaged up.” He began walking with his hand still holding your wrist, pulling you along. 
You took advantage of the situation and dived into another round of questions for your project, and Leona, irritated that he might seem, answered them accordingly.
As the two of you neared the building Rook was in, his eyes suddenly shot up, practically shooting daggers at a particular window.
“What’s it?” You stood on your tiptoes. There was no one behind the glass.
His features remained hardened for a moment before he relaxed his shoulders. “…Nothing. You were sayin’?” 
Rook waited a few seconds to reemerge again. Although you’d already vanished from sight, he had already gathered all that he needed: the lion had been captivated by none other than the magic-less prefect, and he barely needed his instincts and observations as a hunter to confirm that.
5.
It wasn’t that you hated group work. If anything, you enjoyed having someone share the workload. But when your group mates were none other than the red & blue duo from Heartslabyul plus a cat-shaped trouble magnet, you would really rather be left alone. 
“We should make a body swapping potion. I bet it’ll be fun if Riddle and Floyd exchanged personalities.” Ace suggested with that look of his that often preceded undesired circumstances. You were heading to your next class along with the wave of students in the corridor.
“Can you please take this test seriously? I can’t get another fail!” Deuce slapped the back of Ace’s head, causing the redhead to stagger forward. A few students turned their heads around in curiosity, but most were already familiar with the two's antics.
Crewel had given each group the mission to brew from scratch one of the potions mentioned in the textbook as a part of the term test, not knowing what a mistake it was to leave the power of decision-making to you lot.
“How about a potion that can make all food taste like Tuna?” Grim asked, tail brushing your neck as he perched himself on your shoulder.
“Just ask Trey to do that for you.” You commented, not bothering to look up from the testbook in your hands.
“You’re right, henchman! Let’s go right now!”
“Focus on the test first, will you?” Ace was the one to complain this time, earning a hiss from Grim.
“Let’s narrow it down to potions that are easy to make. It’ll be more convenient if the ingredients can be acquired in the botanical garden.” Deuce went around the bickering duo to peek over your shoulder.
The mention of the botanical garden reminded you of a certain lazy lion. Being caught up in the test had kept you from meeting Leona in your free time. In fact, you hadn’t seen him for a whole week already. It didn’t help that he was in another year and had entirely different classes.
Perhaps you could pay him a visit later, but it’s not as if he would miss you or something. A foreign sadness crept up on you. You shook the thought off and opted to focus on the book instead.
It seemed that fate preferred otherwise, because a gust of wind carried Ruggie's laughter to you, followed by a gruntle from– speak of the devil– Leona. Your eyes were already searching for him through the passing crowd before you could contain your curiosity. The lurch in your chest told a lot more than you were willing to admit.
Leona, on the contrary, didn't need to search at all. His sharp eyes landed on you with infallible precision, as unreadable as ever. If it had been anyone else, you would've raised your hand and greeted them with energy, but this was the same person who once walked past you as though you were a mere stranger, leaving your open palm hanging in the air. As an attempt to preserve your dignity, you decided to avert your eyes.
Anyways, since when did Leona of all people go to classes?
Your heartbeat succumbed to a deafening rhythm the closer he got. Half hopeful and half desperate to suppress it, you held your breath the moment he was close enough that your shoulders touched.
As expected, he did not greet or even address you in any way. But there was something soft touching your cheek, the suddenness making your eye twitch in surprise. It caressed your face almost gently before cool air took its place.
You turned just in time to catch Leona's tail retreating.
Engrossed in the contents of the book, you missed all the meaningful gazes being shot around by your friends. Ace and Deuce had been at it for some time, while Grim pretended to understand. 
Deuce was positive that he wasn’t on the same channel as Ace. Just earlier, when he’d caught Leona’s tail poking your face, he shot a quick look at Ace. A raised brow, a glance towards you, then back to Ace. It was supposed to mean ‘Did you catch that?’, and Ace took it as ‘Wanna ambush the prefect?’
The resulted mayhem when Ace tackled you was something you never wanted to bring up again.
Now Deuce wasn’t sure what went on between you and the fearsome leader of Savanaclaw, but Ace had an idea or two. Epel and Jack had both commented offhandedly about the weird atmosphere that surrounded you two. Deuce was present both times, but it'd probably flew right over his head.
Deuce wriggled his brows. Do you have any idea? 
Ace mirrored him. Dude, what even is that supposed to mean? 
Grim’s feigned participation was cut short when he caught sight of two familiar figures entering the canteen. “Hey! What is that sleepyhead doing here?”
All three of you snapped your heads towards the entrance. There stood the spotlight of their discussion, Leona, in his usual rumpled form, half-awake daze, sharp fangs catching the chandelier’s light as he yawned. 
“First he heads to class, now he’s coming to the canteen himself. What’s up with that guy?” Grim gasped dramatically. “Is he plotting something again?”
“He’s not,” you came to his defense with suspicious rapidness. “Plus, what is there to plot about?”
“Mm. You have a point, henchman.” 
“Alright,” Ace held his fist out. “Loser buys lunch. Rock paper scissors!”
Grim let out a shrill laugh as Deuce stared at his sole open palm in defeat. It wasn’t your fault that he only ever played paper. 
While your cat proceeded to go off on a tangent the today's menu, you gazed over at the growing masses of students. 
“So,” Ace craned his head. “Have you chosen the potion or are we going with body swapping?”
“Or the tuna one!”
“Neither.” You tore your eyes away and turned the book around. “We’re making a flower-growing potion—“
They groaned loudly.
“—because it’s easy to make. Do you want to pass or not?” You insisted.
“I would rather be well-fed! Flowers are stu- FNNGA!”
Grim jumped a good feet in the air when someone slammed their lunch on your table, his fur standing tall in alert. Leona sank onto Deuce’s seat, while Ruggie took the spot next to Ace. “You should try to be gentler, Leona-san.”
Before the lion could answer, Grim stood up and yelled, “Hey! That’s Deuce’s seat!”
“Yea? He’s tiny enough to squeeze in somewhere.” Leona said nonchalantly. There was a curiously excessive amount of meat in his dish. After a beat, he turned to you. “What’re you up to?”
Ace resisted the urge to tell him off, preferring to indulge in your interaction to preserve Deuce’s interests.
“Potion test. What, have you missed me?” 
“A lil’ bit.”
That seemed to catch you off-guard. Ace snorted in his attempt to hold in a laugh, and received a kick under the table from Ruggie.
As you tried to come up with a response, he leaned in and grabbed your book. “Making something?”
“The one for growing flowers. Its ingredients are the easiest to find.”
“Ah. I know where you can find them in the botanical garden. I’ll show you later.” He closed the book and slid it across the table.
“Wouldn’t I be invading your precious rest?”
“Then you’ll just have to catch up and be quick.”
Just then, Deuce returned with an expression twisted between confusion and betrayal. Ace barely felt guilt-- there were many things he had to discuss with Deuce (and Grim, though he seemed ignorant).
For now, he just let the pouting boy squeeze in beside him and quietly observed Leona and you throughout lunch, utilizing whatever knowledge he had about love to analyze the situation. He picked up on the way you took Leona’s vegetables without having to ask and how you slapped his hand away when he reached for the meat on your plate. Occasionally he would throw in a snarky comment that aimed to drive you up and wall, and smirk when it succeeded. 
And those looks, sevens. If Ace had to watch for a minute longer he might have to puke in his lunch. He reckoned that he’d already seen enough before turning to address Deuce, who was still hung up on his seat being taken. 
It felt great, holding this kind of knowledge over you. If he played his cards right, he might even get some benefits out of it.
“Dude, what’s with that creepy smirk on your face?” Ruggie pointed out suddenly.
Ace shrugged, “Nothing. You’ll know sooner or later.”
6.
Ruggie was the first to know. 
Leona had been upfront and rather transparent about his feelings, but the hyena had long before noticed the shifts in Leona’s attitude towards you. It was hard not to when he was the one kicking him awake and dragging him to class everyday. Leona's actions spoke a lot more than words could, and the occasional passing glances were impossible to ignore.
When Ruggie confronted him about it, he admitted it while making it sound as casual as he could. Ruggie never for a second bought his nonchalance.
And it was great, knowing that his dorm leader wasn’t a stone-cold heartless jerk. It was both leverage and great material for teasing even when Leona would threaten to tape his mouth shut. 
That was until the people came in. First it was Jack, then it was Epel, then the many other friends and acquaintances who wanted first-hand information on Leona’s love life. Even underclassmen whom he’d only seen around campus approached him. At first it was a great source of income— nothing came without a price after all— but when it began to interfere with his work, it didn’t feel so satisfying anymore. 
If Leona would just make it official, it would make Ruggie’s life so much easier. But no, that lion was so stubborn that he hadn’t even confessed his feelings yet. And he doubted that you were any wiser. 
Now Ruggie knew better than to stick his nose where he didn’t belong. There were countless ways in which things could go wrong and he really didn’t want to be on the receiving end of Leona’s wrath. Yet if they went right, he could get those nosy students off his back and end the torture of seeing you dance around each other like two dumbasses.
No, he wasn’t concerned about your (or Leona’s, for that matter) love life at all. He just wanted Leona to spend more time with you so he could catch a break. 
Plus it’d put Leona in a good mood, and that’s really all he could ask for.
As usual, Leona’s room was disheveled when Ruggie entered, a chess board lying at the end of the bed while its rightful owner was snoozing, wrapped inside a blanket like a burrito. With light steps he lurked further in, inhaled deeply, and flung the file toward the sleeping lion with all his might.
Leona’s hand shot out from the blanket and caught the document mid-air. “What did I say about interrupting my naps, Bucchi?”
“That I should never wake you even if the sky’s falling down?”
As Leona stretched his limbs after the satisfying rest, the bed seemed to shrink in comparison. “You better have a good reason then.” He said mid-yawn, opening the file to read the papers inside. He was supposed to pick them up from Crowley, but decided that they weren’t important enough to warrant his presence.
Well, here goes nothing. “I take it that you haven’t heard then.”
“Heard what.” 
“That the prefect is leaving soon,” Ruggie walked around the room to pick up the miscellaneous items on the floor, unfazed under the lion’s relentless glare. “Crowley found a way to send them back to wherever they came from. They’ve already started packin’, emptying the building and all.”
The silence was heavy. A heavy cloak of tension draped over the room. 
“No,” Leona turned in his bed. “If they really were leaving, they would’ve told me.”
“Yea, but why?” Ruggie pushed, stifling a titter at the way Leona's tail swayed to and fro in growing agitation. “It’s not like you’re close or anything.”
Leona opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again. A laugh startled out of him. “You’re fucking with me, Bucchi. Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing.”
"Whatever, man. I've said all I have to say." Ruggie took a peek of his meticulously concealed expression. It didn't matter that he wouldn't believe it now. He'd planted a fear in his heart, and fear was a vicious, powerful thing. He did one more round around the room, decided that Leona wasn't going to say anything else, and headed for the door. 
“Y’know, I’m just saying, but we don’t know when, or  if they will come back, so maybe you should get off that— okay! Stop throwing shit at me! ” Ruggie scurried out with his tail between his legs, cursing under his breath. 
“The things I do for these dumbasses… they better pay me ten donuts if it works– no, twenty!”
The blanket was starting to feel constricting. Leona kicked it off of him and reluctantly opened his eyes, now wide awake and ruminating on what Ruggie had just said.
You're leaving.
He rolled over and turned on his phone– something he almost never did. There were over a hundred unread emails and messages, mostly from home, but he ignored them all and found your contact after some scrolling. The last time you'd texted had been about his absence at the prefects' meeting, and he'd left you on read. In fact, the conversations were mostly one-way, with occasional 'ok's and insincere emojis dispersed on his side of the screen. 
It wasn't that you didn't talk a lot. You usually met up in person, and if he really needed you, he could just call you, though that was not an usual occurrence.
"It's not like you're close or anything." 
His eyes flew up to your status. Last online: 6 hours ago. His thumb hovered over the keyboard, then retreated. 
So what if you were really leaving? It shouldn't matter to him. You were just someone he tolerated more than most, and he'd known from the beginning that you didn't belong here. There had always been an expiration date on your stay. The horror of you suddenly vanishing from his life shouldn't be this hollowing. 
But it was very, very hollowing, and very, very real. Perhaps a part of him had always thought that everything would stay the same– you and him here, where he was far enough from home that he could forget his empty, meaningless title as the second prince, the unwanted son, where he could rest knowing that nothing, and no one, could take you away from him. 
Maybe he was wrong. Maybe there was nothing he could do, and he was destined to lose you the way he'd lost everything he'd ever wanted to someone else.
Or maybe– there was a tiny voice at the back of his head– maybe he still wanted to try and fight against it, as pointless as it sounded. Deep down, he only knew two things: that he would never forgive himself if he just let you slip away, and that you were always worth trying for.
Stupid herbivore, always planting this stupid hope in his heart. 
He all but hopped off the bed, and pointedly ignored Ruggie's smirk as he made a run for the mirror chamber.
Trapped on all sides with arms so sore you could barely lift them up, you reckoned that the decision to deal with all this by yourself was a great mistake.
There was old and new furniture occupying the spaces around you, and some more that were stuck on the porch, all demanding your attention. You’d naively thought that the unpacking and moving would take no time. And now it was dusk already, and you’d barely gone through half of the deliveries. 
After what had probably been months of requesting and protesting, Crowley finally allowed you to buy some new furniture for your dorm with the school’s money. It’d felt like winning a long, taxing battle, finally able to bid farewell to the drawers that wouldn’t open and the chairs that wobbled. 
It was all fine until the furniture came. You’d been in class when the driver rang, and by the time you returned, he'd already left, leaving the heavy boxes outside the door. 
Perhaps you really should’ve called some friends from Savanaclaw that were strong enough to help. Jack, for one. Maybe even the unmotivated dorm leader. Anyone would be a much better help than Grim, really, who was probably outside the building trying to claw his way into the unopened boxes. 
In the midst of your wallowing, you failed to pick up Grim’s sharp yell, only the slam of the front door that shook the whole building. A scolding formed on your tongue, but quickly dissolved when you heard heavy footsteps come up the stairs. Squeezing your way through the furnishings, you poked your head out of your room and waited.
The stomps came closer, stopped. A pause later, Leona came around the corner, mane disheveled and eyes flying around, almost in panic. When they landed on you, his shoulders sank in relief.
“Leona? Wh-”
“Thank the sevens,” He marched up to you in a few strides, and when he’s close enough, his arms suspended in the air, reaching for a part of you that he could touch. After a long moment, he stuck them back to his sides. 
Emerald eyes landed on the disastrous scene inside the room, especially the emptied shelves and belongings piled in a corner. Something strained passed over his features.
Once you got over the initial shock, you remembered what you’d just been thinking of. “Hey, now that you're here, do you think you can help me move-”
“Don’t leave.”
You blinked. “What?”
He clicked his tongue in annoyance, brows knitted in a frown. “Don’t make me say it again… I can’t believe you decided to keep me in the dark.”
You looked inside the room and back at him. “I mean, it’s not that big of a deal.”
“What if it is for me?” With a gentle hesitation that you’d never seen him exhibit, he reached for your hand. Your heart skipped when he brought your knuckles to his lips, his gaze solely focused on you. He’d always loved lingering around your personal space, but not like this. Not with his feelings being put on display, like a show you weren’t supposed to see.
“I came here in such a rush that I didn’t even have time to think over what to say. Just…” he closed his eyes. “Reconsider your leave. Please. Or at the very least, stay for a few more weeks. You can’t just stumble into my life and leave without a sign. I don’t even want to imagine returning to a life without you. For this once, I need you to choose me.” 
And then, as if realizing his unusual display of vulnerability, his face hardened up. “...Look, I rarely ask anything of anyone. Whatever deadly grip you have on me, you gotta be responsible for it.”
You sucked in a breath, processing his abrupt spill of feelings, before lowering your head. For a moment he took the trembling of your shoulders as you crying, but soon enough he recognized the peals of laughter that fell out of you. If he hadn’t just laid his heart out in front of you, he would’ve taken the time to indulge in the sound that he loved so much.
“Is this funny?” He scowled.
“Mm. No,” you jutted your head towards your room. “Did you think I was leaving?”
Confusion passed over his face. “Of course. You have everything packed, and Crowley…”
He trailed off, the gears in his head turning. Suddenly it all became clear to him. The new stuff laying around. The absence of your clingy friends. The simple fact that no one seemed to know that you were 'leaving'. After a moment, something akin to fury dawned on his expression. “…has never actually been helpful. Damn it, Bucchi.”
Your heart dipped when he removed his hand from around your wrist, ruffling his long locks. “Just a house makeover then. Got it. Forget about it. Bye.”
“Wait, no!” You rushed in front of him, blocking his exit. “What about all the stuff you just said?”
He raised a brow, feigning ignorance, and earned a roll of your eyes, “Well, I’m not letting them slide. I’m not going anywhere, at least not yet.” You thought for a moment. “The truth is, I haven’t decide if I want to leave. I’ve built so much around here that it’ll just be like leaving another home. But if it soothes you, I’m sure the day I have to choose is still far away from us. So, in the meantime…” You reached for his hand in the same manner, kissing the knot of his knuckle. His ears twitched, giving away his carefully concealed emotions. “Let me be responsible for the turmoils in your heart?”
“About damn time.” Leona moved in, this time landing the kiss on your lips, and his smile spread into it easily, like a lovesick lover returning home.
2K notes · View notes
halfagone · 6 months
Text
Let Gotham Be Terrifying
I've seen many different takes and versions of Gotham, but I would love to play into the fact that Gotham is the second most crime-ridden city in America. That's right- Gotham, for all its horrible cruelty, still does not compare to Blüdhaven. But that doesn't make it any less terrifying, especially to newcomers.
I know a lot of people say that Amity Parkers would be desensitized to the Rogue attacks, because of the ghosts that constantly haunt the streets. But I think they would actually be more horrified of Gotham because of the ghosts.
Because here's the thing about Danny's Rogues Gallery. For all intents and purposes, they don't actually want to hurt people. The ghosts might not be harmless, but neither are they expressly malicious.
The Box Ghost? Give him some of your leftover cardboard from when you were moving apartments, he'll appreciate them and leave you alone for a while as a thank you. If you catch him at the right time, he might even be willing to lend a helping hand. With the promise of the boxes afterwards, he doesn't do work for free after all.
Lunch Lady? You'll see her at the soup kitchens or the food banks lending a helping hand; sometimes she even gets invited to the soccer games to act as hostess and she makes the best main dishes. And her dessert? People have made remarks that they're to die for, which is more than a little insensitive but hey, still true.
Ember McLain? Phantom's made a deal with her: so long as she keeps her mind control out of her music, she can play however much she wants. They hold weekly concerts in the park, you just gotta make sure everyone scatters by the time the Fentons arrive, and don't say shit to the GIW when they come around asking, and everyone comes out of this happy.
Kitty and Johnny? Sure, their arguments always cause a ruckus, and it can be more than a little awkward to watch a couple scream at each other in public. But if you're willing to lend a kind ear to Kitty when she's upset, she's far less likely to lash out and hurt people as a result. As for Johnny, let him do a couple laps around town and he'll get his head on straight. If the Red Huntress doesn't do it for him, of course. And when they're on good terms, you'll sometimes see them walking about town, holding hands and just having fun. Sometimes they'll buy some ice cream or other treats from stores. No one really knows where they got the money, but it's legit and no one feels the need to turn them away, if they're respectful about private property.
Youngblood? He's a bit brash and immature, but sometimes you'll catch him hanging out with Phantom playing astronauts. Sometimes you'll even see him hanging out with that girl Phantom playing cowboys. He likes to play at the parks and playgrounds with the other kids his age. And yeah, sometimes he hogs the toys a little too long, but he's the best storyteller the kids on the yard have ever seen. He's a great playmate once you get the hang of it.
As for Skulker... eh, he and Phantom have their fights but honestly, it's the collateral damage that causes more problems than the ghosts themselves. The morning commute should not take this long.
Spectra got ran out of town forever ago and at this point, people can recognize her on sight. If your mental health has taken a startling downturn, contact one of the helplines and if worse comes to worst, reach out to Phantom to make sure she's not sticking her nose where no one wants her.
Desiree- watch your mouth and stop saying the word 'wish' and you're set for life. She can be petty sometimes, but again, that's why you watch your mouth.
For 7 out of the 9 cases here, the ghosts don't actually mean much harm. Other, more powerful ghosts like Vortex or Nocturn don't come around often. They might think Phantom is a little bitch, but they respect his territory. They would do the same if they were in his place. Predator acknowledging predator, as I like to say.
But that's the distinct difference. The ghosts can be bargained with, reasoned with. If you give them some other outlet, more often than not they're willing to take it and don't bother anyone first.
The Gotham Rogues on the other hand? There is no indulging the Joker or Black Mask or Scarecrow. In some cases, even when Mr. Freeze's wife is cured or he's finally let her go, he still keeps to his life of crime. What about Harvey Dent? Zsasz? Manbat? A lot of these Rogues cannot be reasoned with.
And this isn't even including the drug dealers and the muggers and the traffickers. This isn't even including the corrupt police and the even more corrupt local government. This isn't even including the likes of the Court of Owls and the rich and elite that run the show. This isn't even including the League of Assassins, who've always had a vested interest in the city.
And isn't that sad? Doesn't that say something when the living are crueler than the dead?
So give me a Danny or a Jazz or a Tucker or a Sam- any Amity Park citizen you want- that is disturbed by the thoughtless destruction and murders. Give me a Jazz that takes one look at the Arkham Asylum patients and is unnerved by their incapability to change. Give me a Danny that visits Gotham one time to lend a hand, and by the end of it, he turns to Batman and he says, "I don't know how you do it."
Because this is a family of vigilantes, who all besides one, do not have powers. They have to cover a city filled with millions of people, watch over them every night, and try to stop any possible terrible atrocities. Because even if every single member of Batman's Rogues Gallery suddenly dropped dead, Gotham has far deeper issues than just them. That is why Batman's crusade is endless. That's why it's not as simple as flicking a switch.
Gotham is terrifying. And what does it say when the Batman can put the fear of god into a city like that?
Batman is terrifying, and I think sometimes that can be a reminder to us all.
357 notes · View notes
Text
And all the pieces fall, right into place // Part Two
Tumblr media
So Feyd Rautha is still on my mind, so that’s my second try of writing about him and an Artreides!Reader.
Things are getting warmer between you and Fred rautha, but not smutty yet.
All feedback is welcome <3
English is not my first language 
Part One // Part Three
_____________
Na Baron Feyd Rautha x Atreides!Reader
FxM
1,721 words
_______
The new arrivals stride towards you, the procession is so coordinated that the Harkonnens look like a single entity, clad in black leather and gleaming chrome. They have arrived with the Reverend Mother Gaius Helen Mohaim, whom you immediately recognize by her distinctive walk as your mother's former mentor—commands a presence that is both unnerving and awe-inspiring. You’ve never seen your mum look so reverent. Her harsh form contrasts with her surroundings, somehow managing to draw every eye to her, captivating and commanding in equal measure. You strive to be the perfect lady in this spectacle, gently bred and regal. The less you reveal yourself now, the more you hope to elicit reactions from your future husband. But he seems to be following a similar plan, his gaze exhilarating.
Your father's voice, deep and commanding, rings out over the crowd. "Honored Baron, allow me to welcome you. My house is yours. Come in and be welcome!" The words speak of hospitality, but there appears an undercurrent of tension to them. 
"Duke, it is an honour. Please allow me to introduce my nephews.“
The Baron's voice seems to rise like soap bubbles from him, the words rolling out of his mouth. His body rotates slightly towards Rabban. 
"My nephew Glossu Rabban." Rabban nods silently and bows. 
"And my successor, Na Baron Frey Rautha." Feyd's bow is deep; you think you can hear the slight creak of his leather. And that's exactly what irritates you: The gesture is exaggerated and artificial, even for this occasion. In your mind, the question becomes clearer: What is his plan? Tying you to your house through marriage is certainly strategically clever for both sides. But for a purely political union, he wouldn't have to act like this. When he stands up, his eyes rest on his father: "I hope to be worthy of your hospitality." "I have no doubt, Lady Jessica, and I am sure that you have not made the journey in vain. My son Paul Atreides." Paul steps forward and nods. "And my daughter, whose hand Na Baron will soon take in marriage." You curtsy slightly, and the layers of your dress make a cascade of golden-brown waves. The second time you dare to look directly at Na Baron, he stares back with curiosity. With the arrival of the Harkonnens, a new flavour mixes with the lust. It is something heavy, almost oily, which lies on your tongue like a film. The guests are invited into the fortress, and Paul escorts them to their rooms. Lady Jessica indicates that you follow her in the opposite direction. Feyd Rautha takes one look at your wealth and only sees your figure moving further away.
At the official banquet, you sit next to your mother, Na Baron a little further away. While the tension has subsided, you are still on guard. He seems engrossed in a conversation with Gurney and Duncan, while you sit as a silent listener next to your mother, who in turn sits unusually quietly next to your father and the Baron. For a moment, she seems to run her fingers over the side of her neck, betraying her inner tumult. You take her hand to soothe her and bring her back to the here and now. With a few hand gestures, she signals to you, "Guest Library, after the Meal." You nod and turn seriously to watch others. Na Baron seems to be enjoying his conversation, his eyes fully turned to his dialogue partners. His pride from earlier seems to have given way to genuine curiosity, and, however small, a seed of hope rises in you. With a little openness to each other, your union will be based on mutual respect and not just co-existence, which is more than some marriages have. Suddenly, his gaze rests on yours again. And his curiosity changes like the colours of a chameleon into something intense. Without taking his eyes off you, he plunges his knife into the unfortunate steak on his plate, from which a trickle of pink juice oozes out, and runs his tongue over your lips. A shiver runs through you, the innuendo unmistakable. The hope you had just a moment ago gives way to the wish that the distance to Na Baron would be better.
As requested by Lady Jessica, you make your way to the library, and your breath catches when you see Na Baron. She accompanies him to the door but stays outside. As quickly as your feet can carry you, you run around the corner, up a set of steps, and crouch next to a small window that leads to the room. Invisible from them, it offers you the opportunity to observe what is happening. You hear muffled voices first, but then the Reverend Mother speaks up.
"Kneel."
The vibration of the voice permeates, even if it is not directed at you. Realization comes like a wave of cold sweat. The Reverend Mother is talking to the Na Baron. The same dark room full of scrolls, the Reverend Mother's veil, the metal box on the table next to her. Na Baron must prove himself human. You feel a pang in your heart, the memory of the box's blazing flames as fresh as the day you experienced them. But you hear nothing; your betrothed doesn't make a sound. Like a porcelain figurine, he kneels in front of the armchair where the Reverend Mother sits, Gom Jabbar in her hand, mere millimeters from the skin on his neck. Your breathing becomes faster and shallower; with each passing second, the fear inside you gains ground and sinks its claws around your heart. You blink rapidly to shake it off. Someone who you can't even be sure will shape your marriage in the same spirit should at least be human. Before you can finish contemplating the emotions rising in you, the Reverend Mother releases Feyd Rautha.
"So you are human?"
"You doubted me? Even now?" He doesn’t make an effort to conceal his despise towards her. You see his chest heaving and his nostrils flaring. He seems undecided as to whether he will release himself like a tightly coiled spring and go for the woman around the armchair. But he rises and takes quick steps away from the room.
As if pulled by your limbs by a puppet master, you stand up and follow him into the courtyard. The blood rushes in your ears, the memory of your test and the sacred ceremony you have just secretly witnessed have heightened all your perceptions. Feyd Rautha stands with his back to you, his eyes fixed on the sky. You can see his left hand trembling slightly, which he tries to suppress by clenching his fist.
"Do they need the North Star's help to find their chambers, my lord?" You ask, and he turns around instantly. Within a blink of an eye, he moves towards you, stopping just a few centimetres away. You involuntarily back away half a step. "Can I help you find your way back? Should I call a servant?" The question about the test doesn't cross your lips, although it seems to prickle on your lips and all over your skin like an electric charge. His expression becomes even more like a tiger about to pounce.
"You know what just happened," his voice is deep and dark, like syrup. It envelops you, and in your chest, the desire to reach out to him fights with the desire to run away.
"Yes," you say, taking a deep breath. "I'm human, I know it too." 
"Then you also know that humans can be the worst monsters." 
"When it comes to our families, we all have to do things sometimes." 
"Is it something you have to do?" 
"This...?" 
"This wedding?" He's right in front of you, his smell musky and sweet, a new mélange in this familiar place and something entirely new. There's a hunger in his eyes, but no anger. Before you can get your answer out, he pounces. The adrenaline from both of you pumps through your veins so that everything but his lips disappears from your perception. His tongue is demanding, and as soon as you let it in, he pulls you both into a whirlwind of pleasure. Your hands find his neck, his cheeks, the skin so soft and smooth that you can't get enough of the feeling. A low sound escapes his throat, and his hands move from your waist to the fastening of your dress at the back. At that moment, you want nothing more than to let him have his way, and a small sound leaves your mouth. 
"It seems my uncle might underestimated you" he breathes into your ear, his breath like fire on your neck. 
"That could be," you say, still out of breath, with strands loosened from your hair. "Then why don't we find now?“ 
"No." With all the strength you have, you move away from Feyd. "I will tie the ribbon of my life to yours. My life will be yours. But that means it won't happen until the wedding. Not in my parents' courtyard." 
„Well, we could relocate to your chambers then“ His voice is laced with desire.
All you manage is shaking your head. 
He looks puzzled at first and then a little irritated, his gaze wandering up and down your body, lingering on your red, swollen lips. 
"What difference do these couple of days make?" he blurts out. 
"It is the difference of respect." Your voice is filled with indignation, trying to recall and embody the composure and pride that is appropriate for a Duke's daughter. "We both know that our destiny is decided for us. It doesn’t mean I have no say in how I get there. Good night, Baron. I expect you'll find your way back on your own," and with these words, you retreat into the building, hoping that your dress hasn't soaked through. 
As you assert your resolve to maintain dignity, the connection between you has shifted. Feyd Rautha finds himself in the position of watching you leave for the second time in a day. He will be patient, but when the marriage is finalized, you will pay a high price for his patience. All the more time for him to think about what he can do with you.
114 notes · View notes
ireadwithmyears · 15 days
Text
How each member of the bad batch would be with a visually impaired significant other (short imagine’s/headcannons
Word count: 5.4K
Pairings: the bad batch ex female reader (individual)
Tags/warnings: some are suggestive, mostly domestic fluff, hurt/comfort, mild injuries
note: look, it’s the epitome of self indulgence. I wrote this solely because I’m blind, and have never seen these ideas discussed when it comes to our beloved boys. However, I recognize that the majority of people reading this will not have shared this experience, so this is why I am adding a disclaimer/reminder to tell you that blindness is a spectrum, and the majority of us have at least a degree of useable vision left, so that is why I continue to use visual language/descriptors like look or watching. That being said, I hope you enjoy these, I had so much fun writing them, and if you have an idea for a specific scenario so I can do more of these, or another particular clone who isn’t a member of the batch, please let me know, and I would be happy to write more
Hunter🩷 
Hunter is the best at planning dates when it comes to keeping your accessibility and comfort in mind. 
If he wants to take you out somewhere, he’ll always go and scope it out beforehand, analyzing things that might not make it an enjoyable experience for you. I.e. if the lighting is too low and will obscure any of your remaining vision. If the music is too loud and will make it hard for you to effectively communicate with him. He knows that both of these things, especially when they’re working in tandem, can make you feel on edge and anxious, and that’s the last thing he wants you to feel when he’s taking you out on a date.
He will always ask the establishment about things like accessible or braille menus, or, if you happen to have a guide dog, seating that will have the space to accommodate and be comfortable for all of you.
If the menu isn’t accessible for you, he will always give you a heads up beforehand, using his datapad to pull up the menu on the holonet so that he can help you familiarize yourself with it, and you can decide what you want before you get there, taking a lot of the stress and pressure off of you because you don’t have to rush.
He wants you to feel cherished, loved, and safe when you’re out and about with him. So if you are going somewhere that’s particularly busy or crowded, he will also adapt himself. 
He’ll keep you close, whether it’s with your arm tucked securely in the crook of his elbow to guide you around, or his hand gently placed on the small of your back, letting it rest there so that you know he’s right there with you.
He never plans on getting separated from you, but if, by some unforeseen circumstance, it happens by accident, he has a plan for that too. 
If you’ve got remaining vision that is useable, he will intentionally wear bright, contrasting colours to make him easier to spot, even when he’s a distance away. 
If you don’t have any remaining vision, he’ll wear something like keys that jingle, or an article of jewellery that makes a distinct sound as he walks so that you can tell when he’s approaching. 
Regardless, every time you go on a night out, he will take the time to describe his appearance to you in detail, his general physical description, what he’s wearing, so that if, for some reason, you do get separated, you know how best to describe him to someone, so that they can locate him for you and help you make your way back to him
His enhanced senses have become innately attuned to your normal patterns and rhythms, and if he notices any rapid fluctuation or change be it with your breathing or heart rate, indicating that the environment you’re in is causing you stress, he’s whisking you away, taking you back home, despite any of your protests. He knows you’re just fighting him because you feel guilty about potentially messing up the night, which you absolutely are not.
He will not let you feel that way for long, because when you’re home, he is determined to make you feel like the beautiful, treasured, and wanted human being that you are.
He orders your favourite takeout food. He’ll lie you down on your bed, surrounding you with soft blankets and pillows, gently and tenderly beginning to caress and massage the tension from your tensed up shoulders and back, partly because he feels like he might have inadvertently been the cause of it being there in the first place.
“I’m sorry,” you try to apologize. “I know you really wanted to...”
“Shh,” he quiets your apology, a hand coming up to softly brush a finger against your lips, resting his forehead against yours gently. “Meshla,” he breathes, unable to help the small smirk of amusement that pulls at the corners of his mouth as he observes, taking note of your breath audibly catching in the back of your throat as his finger, slow and slightly teasing, begins to lightly trace the edge of your bottom lip.
He presses his lips to yours in a sweet, chaste kiss as he affirms, “this is all I want,” he breathes in a whisper close to your ear that immediately has your whole body erupting in goosebumps.
“You,” he continues, his voice a low, husky rumble against your neck as his lips press, warm and deliberate, directly where your pulse flutters beneath them, pulling a soft, yet audible gasp out of you, that makes his lips curve up into a smile that you can feel against the skin of your neck.  “Are all I want.” 
He spends the rest of the night taking his time to prove that to you, in every way that he knows how.
*
Tech🩷
He takes note of every single bruise you get on your legs from bumping into shit all the time. 
You’re blind, it’s just an occupational hazard. You might not even notice that you have one, but he certainly does, and he’ll take care to notify you of every time you accumulate a new mark in your collection.
“There is a bruise directly above your left knee,” he observes, gentle fingers tracing over the mark with a soft frown marring his features. 
He naturally has picked up on using the language that is most helpful to describe the location of something visual to you. You didn’t even have to ask the first time you were on hands and knees on the floor, feeling around for one of your shoes. He didn’t point, and say “it’s over there,” which is just instinctive habit for most people. Instead, he had a used more specific directives like “behind you, on a slight diagonal to your right.”
“How did this happen,” he asks softly now, placing your hand directly on top of the blossoming mark on your leg.
You give him a half shrug and a rueful smile. “I don’t know,” you admit, honestly puzzled. “It happens all the time.”
From then on, he observes you closely, quickly coming to the realization that there are things that are just harder for you to look out for, and, just as quickly, doing his best to rectify each one. He’s easily able to identify a pattern of cause and effect that lead to your many bruises, bumps, and small every day accidents, and rather than being over bearing and cautious with you, he just figures out a way to remove the root of each problem entirely.
Each step on the Marauder’s gangway is suddenly marked with a long strip of brightly coloured tape at each edge, so that you can more confidently move down the steps without having to fumble to find the edge with your foot.
Low sitting caf tables in the middle of the living room, with sharp, jagged corners jutting out are suddenly pushed up against the wall, so that you don’t have to be careful while stepping around them, trying not to hit your leg off of one of them.
He makes sure that any overhead cupboards in the kitchen that are hard for you to notice until your head is colliding with their open doors, are kept securely shut, recalling a particular incident when, whilst putting away dishes, your head had caught on one of the cupboard doors, large bump blossoming on your forehead, just barely missing your eye. He had frowned, gently holding an ice pack to the swelling bump, deciding that from now then on, he would put any of the dishes away that needed to go on the top shelves. He wouldn’t budge on this, even when you tried to argue.
“Cyar,” he had said, voice stern, even as he gently took you by both of your shoulders. “I understand your need to be able to do things independently, and I respect it greatly. But, as much as you can make a light about getting bruises on your legs from these little incidents. Your head is much too important to apply that same lightness to, and I will not compromise on that so please, let me do this for you.” he had leaned down, barely brushing his lips over the bump on your head in a caring, affectionate gesture, and that had made your resolve completely crumble.
He’s also hyper aware of your systems and ways of organizing things, and it has become a habit for him to make sure that it is maintained. 
Shampoo and conditioner bottles that look almost identical with exception to the labels that isn’t much help to you are always set in a specific order for you to find in the shower. You always leave things like your wallet and your cane in the same place, and if anyone messes with these orders, it can really throw you off.
If anyone does touch or move any of your things, regardless of how insignificant, without telling you first, Tech will find out, and, especially if it’s one of his brothers, will thoroughly scold them for it, ensuring that they understand why somethings so small could be really frustrating and disorienting for you, and makes sure that they never do it again.
If you read braille, this man learns it for fun one day on a whim, and he doesn’t even tell you about it.
He’ll put away your groceries for you one day, and then you’ll be searching for something like a dinner ingredient, and find that he’s attached a braille label to the box, with completely correct use of the six dots that form the language.
When you confront him with it, he only shrugs, adjusting his goggles with a slightly confused expression.
“You sound surprised,” he observes with one raised eyebrow. “In a practical sense, this was a logical solution,” he continues, clearly unfazed by your display of shock.
“That’s not fair,” you pout, leaning against the counter and folding your arms. “If you’re going to learn braille, then you at least need to teach me some Mandoa,” you challenge.
“I was not aware that you were interested in the subject. But that is an agreeable request. What would you like to know?” He asks, looking at you questioningly.
“Like,” you bite your lip, considering, tilting your head in curiosity. “What’s that word that you always call me?” You ask. “It starts with an S? I think? Or maybe a C...c cyar?” You say, suddenly uncertain and cringing at your own pronunciation.
He straightens, suddenly grateful that you’re unable to see the blush that’s crept into his cheeks as he answers evenly. 
“Ah, yes, the word that you were saying is correct. Cyar... it means, love... or beloved,” he answers, voice going soft as he catches your hand in his, almost absently pressing his lips to the back of your knuckles briefly as you stare at him, surprised.
“You ... you love me?” You ask, hopeful and voice clearly bewildered. The smile that pulls at the corners of your lips lights up the whole room. 
Both eyebrows arch as he looks down at you, because now he’s the one who’s confused. When he responds, his voice is far less confident and sure than it usually is. It holds almost a shy, completely uncharacteristic timidness, which conveys the genuine honesty in his words when he speaks.
“Well ...cyar. of course I do. I thought it was obvious.”
*
Echo🩷 
Echo, unlike most people, understands all the aches and pains, mental and physical, that come with being disabled.
He’s sat with you on the bathroom floor, your head resting against the cool linoleum of one of the tiles on the wall after a concert. You had come home to find your head throbbing from the after affects of being surrounded by a combination of extremely loud music, a screaming crowd, and strobe lights that made you wish that you didn’t have any remaining vision at all. 
Your eyes were shut tightly, and  your heart fluttered with surprise and gratitude when, with his one functioning hand, Echo, movements slow and meticulous, carefully began to undo your hair from the tight updo it had been forced into all night. There he sat, fingers so, so gentle as they ran through your hair, undoing the tangles and soothing away some of the tight ache that had gathered at the back of your head. 
He’s careful to stay quiet, not wanting to interrupt the little bit of peace that you had found. The only thing that fell from his lips were gentle breaths and soft murmurs of “oh, sweetness, s’okay,” lips pressing the lightest kisses to your flushed cheek, the side of your aching forehead, until the painkillers had finally, finally kicked in.
If you’re a cane user, he always has his eyes peeled for the little bumps and cracks along the sidewalk.
He’s seen what happens when the tip gets caught in one of them, when the handle inevitably jabs against your stomach or ribs and the immediate discomfort on your face that follows.
He also sees the bruises that are left there afterwards, and as much as he loves gently pressing his lips to each of them, reassuring you that he’ll kiss them better, he’d rather them just not be there in the first place.
So, he always watches out for them, giving you an ample warning on ones that your cane could get caught in so that you can move it out of the way. 
He takes you to a holofilm, and you both don’t realize that it’s not available with audio description until you’re in your seats and the headset doesn’t work. He immediately turns to you, giving you a reassuring smile and offering his hand, saying “We can leave, if you want. If you’re not going to get anything out of this, we can go, and we’ll find something else to do.”
You decide to stick it out, rationalizing that you’ll still be able to get something out of the film, if not the whole story, and besides, he can catch you up on parts you didn’t understand after it’s over. 
In the end, it’s still worth it for you.  
You finish half of a bag of popcorn before commercials are even over. You’re intrigued by the movie for almost half of it, and then finally, you spend the rest of it passed out with your head resting on Echo’s shoulder, only for him to wake you, slightly chagrined, when the credits are rolling.
When you’re out of the theater, you walk together hand in hand down the street. He apologizes profusely, saying that he should have done more research. You try to laugh it off to reassure him that it was fine, because you just had one of the best naps of your life in that theater. When it’s clear that that doesn’t help, you’re turning to him, sighing with a small frown.
“Echo,” you say with a small shake of your head. “I’m the one who should be sorry, not you, love.” At his look of bewilderment, you continue. “You do so much for me already, and I’m just so, so grateful for that. It’s not always something I feel like I can repay you for.” You look away, ashamed. 
Because it’s true. He has his own set of issues and lingering problems from the injuries he sustained at the citadel. You can encourage him to do things like his physiotherapy exercises that ensures that his cybernetics are working in tandem with his body. But you can’t actually help him with them, whether it be with making modifications or repairs. It sometimes makes you feel a bit useless, because he helps you so much and you feel like you can only help him so little, and you feel like you’re just adding to his already overflowing plate sometimes.
“I know there could be easier people for you to be with,” you confess, voice quiet.
Echo stops dead at the street corner, catching your wrist to stop you from moving forward, and turning to fully face you with his brow creased in a frown.  
“Oh, Cyar’ika,” he says, voice soft, reaching out a hand to tilt your head up so that you’re looking at him. “Now who put that idea in your head, ner kar’ta?” he whispers, gazing down at you with pursed lips.
Unexpected tears spring to your eyes at his gentle tone. The truth is that you can’t place this feeling on a singular person, though people have contributed to it. Family members have made comments in passing, strangers who look at the two of you and immediately begin to judge from there own preconceived notions and outside opinions. It’s society at large, who has made you feel like your blindness is a burden to the ones you love. 
You don’t know how to say that, though. So you remain silent as Echo leans down, dropping a lingering kiss to your forehead as he whispers, “I don’t need you to make my life easier, cyar. You make my life meaningful, and that, to me, is more important. 
He rests his forehead against yours, brushing a soft kiss to your lips. “Your needs don’t make you a burden, cyar’ika. I want you to remember that. I want to make sure that they are always being met. It’s the least I can do, you understand?”
All you can do is nod, your heart in your throat. 
The next time you go see a holofilm with him, and the audio description isn’t available, Echo is prepared this time.
He still offers to leave, but when you refuse, he has a plan. In his own time, and on the occasions when you both have been watching something at home, he always makes sure the described video settings are on, for your benefit, and when he’s alone, for his.
He’s observed closely, listening and carefully paying attention to how the narrator’s go about describing things. So, when the movie starts, he leans over to you, keeping his voice low and quiet, beginning to describe to you what’s happening onscreen, careful to never interrupt any dialogue.
You stare at him, more than a little surprised. “Echo, are you going to do this for the whole film?” You ask, caught off guard and delighted all at once.
He gives you a quick nod. “Yes,” he answers matter-of-factly. “Now, be quiet and let me do it.”
True to his word, he does, staying close to you and keeping his voice quiet, so as not to disturb anyone around you. If someone still tries to shush him or gives him a dirty look for talking in the theater, he glares at them, in only the way that Echo can, until they stop.
This time, you stay awake during the whole film, watching intently, and listening to echos every word as he is meticulous in describing the visual things that you’re missing. In spite of all of the things that are different in comparison to your last date, one thing still remains the same.
You still finish the movie with your head resting on his broad shoulder, and he still looks at you like you’re the centre of his world.
*
Wrecker🩷 
The first time you make a blind joke about yourself in front of him, he’s terrified. 
Instinctively, he starts laughing, but then, registering your words, he immediately cuts himself off, not wanting to offend you, and is concerned that you’re being mean to yourself, which he will not allow. 
When you only snort at his reaction, playfully nudging him and explaining how it’s fine, because you have to make fun of the things that you are unable to change, and how it’s actually a mark of self love if you have the ability to laugh at yourself, slowly, he begins to understand. 
Soon enough, he not only readily laughs at your self deprecating humour and blind jokes, but at one point, he ends up slipping out one of his own before he can stop himself.
Again, he’s immediately apologetic and regretting his words, but when you throw back your head and laugh heartily, he feels a little less insecure and soon enough, you both have the ability to crack blind jokes with each other without missing a beat, to everyone else’s chagrin and fond amusement. 
He decides that having the ability to make you laugh, getting to watch your eyes sparkle with amusement and hearing the sounds of your joy is music to his ears, and is one of his favourite things. 
Wrecker is your number one protector. Not in a toxic, over protective way.
Even though he’s only got one functioning  eye, chances are he’s still got more vision than you, so he’s taking it upon himself to be the working set in this relationship, meaning he’s always watching out for you.
If you’ve got a guide dog, the first time he encounters it, he might have gone to pet it, but, before he did, he sees the do not interact sign, and stops short, quickly pulling back and apologizing. 
He asks questions, just to make sure he understands why it’s important, and after you explain it, he fully respects the boundaries and never forgets them, to which you are immensely thankful.
He doesn’t understand why you’re so grateful for him just doing the decent thing, until you tell him that a lot of people understand that you’re not supposed to pet the dog, but will either do it anyways, thinking that if you can’t see them doing it and they do it silently, you won’t notice, or they’ll talk in a distracting way to the animal, which is sometimes worse, and equally as distracting for the dog to work through.
This angers him, that they would take advantage of your blindness in such a disrespectful manner, and because you’ve explicitly told him that distracting your dog could potentially put you in danger, under the right circumstances.
From then on, he’s always watching.
If someone is petting your dog while it’s working, or trying to distract it, he’s right there, towering over them and glaring with his arms crossed, not so subtly pointing at the do not pet sign until they back away, stuttering and flustered.
If a child runs up to pet it, he’ll much more gently intercept them, crouching down on the ground to quietly explain to them the rules. In your experience, children are often much more respectful than adults, and watching him interact so kindly with them melts your heart every time.
Wrecker is tall. Standing at 6 feet six, it makes him not the most ideal guiding companion.
If he’s guiding you himself, sometimes, unintentionally, his elbow might knock against your head, for which he is immediately aware of, and instantly apologetic. 
He will always stop, large hands gently cradling the sides of your face as he looks you over, worried that even the slightest bump from him could leave a bruise. Regardless of what he finds, though, he’ll always lean down, dropping a kiss to your forehead with a soft, “m sorry, meshla.”
His solution to this problem, however, is a tad bit unconventional. 
When confronted with a situation where it’s just more efficient for him to guide you, for example, a street blocked off by construction, taped off areas and pylons everywhere, instead of offering you something like his hand or his wrist to hold, he simply reaches down, scoops you up into his arms and carries you over his shoulder until you’ve both cleared the obstacles together, you letting out a surprised squeak and giggling all the while.
Wrecker finds you beautiful, every day, all the time, and he is constant with his reminders of that.
As a blind person, it can be more difficult to coordinate a whole outfit, look, hair, and make up. He is so appreciative, and loves if you do that. But, if you’re one of those blind people who never learned how to do make up, who isn’t as confident in their sense of personal style, and you feel a little bit self-conscious about how much, or how little, in your opinion, effort you put into your look when you’re going out on a date with him, he will quickly assuage your fears the minute he catches wind of them.
He’s very good at detecting those days where you’re not feeling good about your appearance, just intuitively sensing when you’re having a bit of an off day, and when you could use a reminder of how beautiful and precious you are to him. He knows he can’t magically change your mind.
But he can  tell you about all the things he finds attractive about you, every day, if you need that reminder.
He’ll tell you of each one, each part of you that he finds beautiful beyond belief, while taking the time to softly caress and kiss each one, with whispered affirmations of “Such a pretty little thing,” and “You’re perfect, cyar, absolutely perfect.”
And if that’s not enough, he’ll keep going, keep moving downwards until he can look up at your beautiful face, watching from in between your parted thighs as your lips form equally beautiful noises for him.
*
Crosshair🩷 
It isn’t that Crosshair doesn’t want to help you. It’s just that, honestly, he’s a little bit hesitant to, in the beginning, fearing that he might overstep, because he places such a high value on choice, and respects your independence and autonomy to much to question you and your abilities.
He trusts that, if you need his help, you’ll come to him and ask. He also trusts that you’ve been living with blindness for a long time, maybe even since birth, and you’re aware enough to know your boundaries and limits, trusting that you’ll advocate when you need him to help with one of those limits.
Just because he doesn’t help you as much in the physical sense, does not mean he isn’t your number one advocate, because he absolutely is. 
For example, if you’re a guide dog user, and you both are going out together using a ride sharing app. If the driver refuses to let you in they’re speeder because of your service dog, he will wait patiently for you to explain, analyzing every micro expression of the driver and knowing when they’re still not listening to you, and he will step in without hesitation.
Wearing his most menacing glare, and in a voice that is deadly calm, he will absolutely read them the riot act. He knows every law regarding your guide dog, and knows just how properly to phrase them in a way that will make the driver scared, usually when he mentions the 5000 credits fine they could be sued for not denying you access 
He’s also keeping his eyes out to make sure that no one distracts your dog, and isn’t afraid to directly confront anyone who tries, saying something snarky like, “You know, maybe you’re the one who needs a guide dog, if you can’t read the don’t pet me sign that’s right in front of your face,” paired with a signature eye roll.
They always back away stuttering, and it always makes you laugh, even as you gently rebuke him, saying “Cross, that was a bit rude.”
He scowls, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you against him as he responds.
“And you, sweet girl, are too nice,” he purrs lowly against your ear. But, with the way that he begins to nuzzle at your neck, you don’t really think it bothers him that much.
If you’re one of those blind people who feels like asking for help is just burdening other people with your problems, and would rather risk facing the consequences by trying to do something yourself, rather than ask for help, he will find out, and he will not be pleased in the slightest. 
Your stubbornness is something that he loves about you. But if it has a tendency to go too far, especially if you’re putting yourself in harms way, that adoration will quickly turn to frustration.
For example, one time, you both were staying at a place that had a glass topped stove. 
These things are so inaccessible for blind people, it’s not even funny. But rather than admit defeat and let him cook dinner, you decided that you could figure it out, and gave it your best shot. 
Your best shot ended with you trying to line up the pot with the burner, and very quickly, receiving a searing burn on your hand from touching the heat. 
You had not anticipated it getting that hot that fast , and as you quickly pull your hand away, tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you let out a pained hiss.
““what are you doing?”
He had materialized behind you from seemingly out of nowhere, voice a silky, yet tensed coil as he reaches around you carefully, quickly flicking off the burner before long, dextrous fingers wrap  around your wrist, still gentle, even as he insistently pulls your hand away from where you’ve been clutching it to your chest, eyes keenly examining the burn with a soft frown on his face.
Wordlessly, he guides you over to the kitchen sink, hand on the small of your back, turning the water on cold and carefully placing your injured hand beneath the stream. 
Only then does he come to stand in front of you, placing both of his hands on your shoulders, his expression hard as he looks down at you. 
“What were you thinking, cyar?” He grits out, voice almost a growl as he tries to understand. “Why didn’t you wait for me? I could have helped and prevented this,” he gestures to your hand. “From happening.”
You blame the trembling in your voice on the lingering throbbing ache in your hand.
“I’m s sorry. I I thought that I could figure it out. You were busy, and I didn’t want to bother you B because I’m scared that I burden you with all the help I need sometimes and.”
“Stop,” he cuts you off in one quick, decisive syllable, and you instantly fall silent.
He tilts your chin up with one hand, guiding your eyes to look at him. His lips form a thin line when he sees the glimmer of unshed tears there. When he next speaks, his voice is still firm, but there is an underlying gentleness and softening in his tone. It has lost its hard edge, and it’s protective bite.
“You are not a burden, to anyone, but especially to me.”
“But,” you try to interject, but he easily silences you, taking your face in both of his hands and cradling it gently.
“Shh, cyar, listen to me,” he says, his voice a quiet command.
“If you are a burden, then you are my burden. In the same way that I am yours.” He takes your uninjured hand in his, relaxing his fingers against yours,  allowing you to feel it’s tremors.
Oh.
It’s been so long since his hand has shaken like this. He’s worked so hard to try and work through this particular trauma, and though it hasn’t completely gone away, it only begins to tremble during moments of high stress. You flush with shame, realizing that this moment of high stress is completely on you.
“I know what you’re doing, and stop it,” he says, voice stern, squeezing your hand in a silent warning. “Look at me, cyar’ika,” he continues, voice softening.
When you do, he continues. “If we are each other’s burdens, then we take care of each other, together. Do you understand me?”
You nod, actually stunned into complete silence at his proclamation.
“Good,” he says, voice softening further. He leans forward, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your lips, fingers gently caressing the side of your neck as he pulls back.
He gives you a playful nudge as he smirks.
“Don’t ever try something like that again, cyar,” he quips with a scowl. “Your eyes already don’t work, and if you lose one of your hands, you’re completely fucked.”
All the levity of the moment vanishes, and it ends with your face pulling into a smile, a soft laugh falling from your parted lips as he watches you, eyes filled with adoration.
121 notes · View notes
a-libra-writes · 11 months
Note
Hello Libra, I just like to say that I really love your work and I love how you depict all these characters so well!
I was wondering if you can do some jealousy headcanons for the Lackadaisy characters?
Danke!! GN reader, most reference a relationship or romantic interest.
♣️Rocky - His jealousy is very obvious to anyone who bothers to pay attention. It is not less obvious or pathetic when you're in a relationship, either. Rocky will find any excuse to interrupt you and the other person, scare them off, redirect your attention, and so forth. It can become very distracting and annoying, so it's best to address the problem right away. The jealousy 100% stems from Rocky's fears of abandonment - not that he'd recognize that - so reassuring him and soothing that insecurity helps a lot. Sometimes his jealous reactions are just that, knee-jerk reactions that he doesn't fully think through. It's safe to say the insecurity is less of an issue the longer you both are together, especially if you're already a very affirming and affectionate partner.
♣️Freckle - The big-eyed boy has a quiet, passive jealousy that he may not notice right away. It stems from inadequacy, and he believes himself to be inadequate in many things, especially when it comes to relationships. He doesn't exactly have a lot of experience, you know? It'll be a constant needling build-up, though his uh, night time shooty activities helps get a lot of that aggression out. He's very open to talking things over, but you'd have to bring it up first. Freckle would rather stew in Catholic-level feelings of guilt before ever talking about it; but talks help a lot! Reassuring him goes a long way, and making sure he brings up his negative feelings before they get so bad.
♣️Ivy - While she's quite easygoing and not prone to jealous thoughts that often, when they do pop up, it manifests as an intense "my best-friend-who-I-tooootally-have-platonic-feelings-for-is-dating-someone-new-and-I-suddenly-hate-that-person". She pouts, she plots, she makes her displeasure known to you - she just gets an off feeling from that person. No, it's not mature, and she can get pretty catty about it - but she's also only 18~19. If you're femme then Ivy can easily dismiss her feelings as just missing her best friend - it'll take extra time to realize they aren't entirely platonic. If you both were together and already had conversations about this, that burning jealousy melts away to a little spark she feels now and again. She'll ignore it, knowing it's just a dumb thing that'll pass as soon as you're back at her side.
♣Mitzi - As much as she acts like she's above such things, Mitzi is the same as anyone else in developing jealous feelings. She recognizes them at once and just wants to bury them down, it's so embarrassing. It's even worse if she gets antsy about someone being overly friendly or flirty with you. What is she, a schoolgirl? The anger at herself might irk Mitzi even more than the person whose being so forward with you. She can get quite passive aggressive toward them, coating her barbs with honey - and that might get directed toward you if she feels you're also being too friendly with them. None of this lasts long - Mitzi would rather have a drink and kiss and make up. She's too old too ladylike for this silly nonsense.
♣Viktor - Just because he recognizes what he's feeling doesn't mean the old Slovak processes them in a healthy way (like, at all). To strangers, he's his usual frightening self, but to those who know him they can tell there's a distinct animosity coming off him. He's not a possessive type, but Viktor already feels miserable about himself and that he doesn't deserve you in the slightest - the idea of someone better coming along is not an impossibility. Now, he can't simply grab them by the neck and throw them out a window just for talking .. .and that'd upset you. So Viktor settles for being in a terrible mood until you soothe him. Attempting to talk him through it just makes him feel worse about himself.
♣Zib - Oh, he recognizes it quick, and Zib haaaates feeling this way. It's so pathetic, so annoying. He should be the bigger person, just suck it up and walk away, but ... nah. If he's been drinking, he's absolutely going to make snide comments and act inappropriate. You drag his drunk ass aside and he does feel a little (kinda) bad about he acted ... some days he's better about it. It's so cliche, but he knows what he's like as a partner. He doesn't offer much, and even if you've made it clear you still care about him, the insecurities and negative feelings can dig into him... especially after booze. He perks right up after some cuddling.
♣Atlas - He doesn't show it outwardly at all. Atlas keeps his impassive expression, outsiders can't tell the difference, but you and his two closest triggermen might pick up the iciness in his eyes. Eventually, that frost would melt into his voice. He would consider any jealous feelings beneath him, if he deigned to call them that. Instead, he'd translate it as disrespect: Whoever is being too personal with you and inspiring these feelings is disrespecting him. It's ... probably best that they move on.
🏵Serafine - Jealousy isn't something that comes easily to her. She's too free-spirited, and she doesn't like the idea of holding another down. She'd hate for you to restrict her, so why should she do the same to you? That said, there are a few times when it comes up. There are always those who want to flirt with you and get too close for her liking, but ... it's also fun to watch. She lets the little pangs of jealousy build up until you return to her side, and Serafine will tease you for doing it on purpose. There's a reason she likes to leave lipstick stains and bites on you. Note, if you try to incite jealousy in her on purpose, she'll see it as a game - but if you're seriously trying to provoke something, it's just irksome. Isn't that a bit childish?
🏵Nico - Like his sister, Nico isn't one for jealousy. He's inspired plenty of it and isn't a fan, and like Serafine, he won't tie you down if you don't do the same to him. Truthfully, he has much less patience for it. Some may think he doesn't feel jealous at all; but Nico is actually just good at dealing with it in a healthy way. He waits until you're back at his side and showers extra attention on you - it's pretty funny when the person who was flirting starts glaring at you. As long as you're not intentionally trying to get a rise out of him, he's chill.
🏵Mordecai - He's awful about it, made worse that he refuses to acknowledge it. It really doesn't kick in until you both have this sort-of-kind-of understanding that's a mess to navigate to begin with, never mind if jealousy comes into play. Mordecai both feels it strongly and denies it with as much strength. Some stranger trying to be smooth is irksome, but not the end of the world. But someone who has a sustained relationship with you? Who gets to touch you and be close to you on the regular? Nope. He's argumentative and prickly anytime they come up. By the time he figures out what his feelings are about, he'd rather chew off his own tail than ever bring it up.
🏵Wes - His flavor of jealousy tends to come from either inadequacy or possessiveness. If the person flattering you and getting too close is some idiot he works alongside, you better believe his hackles raise and he puts them in their place. If it's someone he can't immediately beat down, or if they seem ... well, better than him in some way, the jealousy quietly simmers underneath. Your initial attempts to talk it out are bust, considering the time period and his own machismo ... but he can come around once you reassure him. And wait, didn't he want this to be a casual thing? What's he getting so worked up about, anyway?
🏔Wick - When they build up, he quickly recognizes the jealous feelings in himself. It's something Wick is familiar with, and dislikes - as if it's a personal failing, and not a thing everyone goes through. Depending on how long it sticks around, he can become a little withdrawn and even unsure. It just feels so childish, but he's still glad to get some reassurances. He insists it's not necessary, but Wick still gives you that dopey, painfully affectionate smile you're used to. He's also someone who handles it maturely, and they seem to go as quickly as they come. They may linger if there's already some obstacle between you two - maybe he hasn't brought up his feelings, you're masc so he can't be as open with his affection, and so on - but he's still recognizing these negative feelings and willing to work through them.
347 notes · View notes
bulkyphrase · 3 months
Text
Identity Porn Rec List
Some of my favorite fics that deal with the difficulties and complications of having a secret identity.
Identity porn is a mainstay of Stony fic, but there are also some gems from Stucky, SamSteve, and whatever the ship name for Steve/Matt Murdock is.
given you a number, taken away your name by janonny (@awesomelifechoices) (Stony, General Audiences, 4,520 words)
Summary: As Tony behaves more erratically, S.H.I.E.L.D. sends in Steve as an undercover agent in S.I. to be Natasha’s back-up. Except Steve is really, really not cut out for this undercover business. - Before the lift’s doors closed, Stark suddenly grinned and said, “Call me Tony. Have a better rest of the day, big guy.” Awkwardly, Steve lifted his free hand and waved as the doors slid shut between them. What...what was he doing? Why was he waving? Steve hurriedly put his hand down and turned around sharply.
How to Woo the Winter Soldier by writeonclara (@writeonclara) (Stucky, General Audiences, 21,570 words)
Summary: “I think I’m ready to date again,” Steve said. “What,” Natasha said. “What?” Clint said, lowering his binoculars. He blinked at the dumbstruck look on the Captain’s face, then followed his gaze to where he was staring dopily at—at the Winter fucking Soldier. “Steve, no,” Clint groaned. Or: Steve courts the Winter Soldier. Also available as a podfic read by Akaihyou (@akaihyou)
I (created from fantasies) exist solely for you by Mizzy (@mizzy2k) (Stony, Teen And Up Audiences, 62,917 words)
Summary: Six years ago, without the Avengers Initiative there to save the day, scientist Dr. Eric Selvig sacrificed himself to save the world, the almighty demi-god Thor was lost to a terrible storm, and vigilante Iron Man – spotted with a nuclear weapon trying to take advantage of the situation – was forever labelled an enemy of SHIELD. This is a comic book office AU, where Steve is defrosted a year too late, Thor has forgotten who he is, and no one knows Tony is Iron Man. Also includes: office pranks, inappropriate post-it notes, and superheroes who like pina coladas and getting caught in the rain. Also available as a podfic read by badfinch (@read-by-badfinch)
More below the cut!
Love Is A Masquerade by Mizzy (@mizzy2k) (Stony, Mature, 12,010 words)
Summary: *loudspeaker noise* Please present your tickets here for your trip on the Steve/Tony Fantasy Trope Land express. On your left we have Masquerade Balls and Identity Porn; on the right we have Steve's Thirst for Iron Man's Thighs and Dramatic Balcony Kissing. Please keep your arms and legs within the ride at all times, thank you. Also featuring Classic Iron Man armor, Identity-Porn-Without-Porn, and Boys-In-Tights. You will need to leave your expectations for plot at the entrance to the fic; be kind and please pick up your trash before you go. Look, it's unrepentant fluff and crack, don't look at me like that, you're the one still reading this summary. [aka] When the Avengers are invited to attend Tony Stark's Annual Masquerade Ball, Steve's hoping Iron Man will be there--after all, he can wear a mask and keep his identity secret. So when Steve recognizes Iron Man's distinctive thighs, Steve is SO sure he's found Iron Man's pilot... He's right, but not in a way Steve would ever have guessed... Also available as a podfic read by paraka (@paraka)
Masked and Anonymous by panickyintheuk (@shiningredandgold) (Stony, Explicit, 4,236 words)
Summary: "When Mr. Stark opened the door, he had his shirt untucked, and no shoes on. It was evening, and it was his own apartment, and Steve was dropping by unannounced, so that was all really fair enough, but it was also the least put-together Steve had ever seen him." Steve drops in on Avengers benefactor Mr. Stark, but it seems that Mr. Stark was expecting him.
Not Just Anybody (Help) by kototyph (Samsteve, Teen And Up Audiences, 9,349 words)
Summary: Sam meets a homeless veteran with a famous name.
Straight on till Morning by Sineala (@sineala) (Stony, Explicit, 109,848 words)
Summary: Tony Stark resigned his commission in Starfleet five years ago, after a disastrous away mission, and he swore he'd never go back. He just wants to be left alone to build warp engines in peace. But the universe has more in store for him than that, as he discovers when Admiral Fury comes to him with an offer he could never have expected and cannot possibly refuse: first officer and chief engineer aboard the all-new USS Avenger, a starship of Tony's own design. What's more, the Avenger's captain is Steve Rogers, hero of the Earth-Romulan War. Believed dead for over a century, Steve is miraculously alive... and very, very attractive. But nothing is ever easy for Tony. As he wrestles with his secret desire for his new captain and his not-so-dormant fears, another mission starts to go wrong, and Tony becomes aware that Steve has secrets of his own -- and the truth could change everything. Also available as a podfic read by M_Samro (@msamro)
Super Villain Dating Tips - Or How Steve Won Over Tony Through The Art of Kidnapping by forgetmenotjimmy (Stony, General Audiences, 46,265 words)
Summary: Steve isn't evil, he's just trying to do the right thing whilst hiding from an insane General who's out for his blood - literally - but when he is forced to kidnap Tony to help him escape the cops, his plans to take down the Secret Division that experimented on him, well, they get put on the back burner. How does a villain date a hero? More kidnapping of course!
The Blind Leading by SkyisGray (Stucky, Explicit, 43,034 words)
Summary: Steve is specifically told not to fraternize with the independently contracted Winter Soldier.
The Corruption of Captain America by the Villain Tony Stark by ladililn (@ladililn) (Stony, Explicit, 50,344 words (WIP))
Summary: Iron Man paused. “Oh my god. You thought I was a robot.” “No, I—” Steve felt his face flushing. “I…considered the possibility,” he admitted. “You thought I was a robot who’s been hitting on you.” “Is that really so crazy?” Steve felt an inexplicable need to defend himself. “In the forties, I fought a Nazi with a skull for a head.”
Think of This as Solving Problems (That Should Never Have Occurred) by Sineala (@sineala) (Stony, Teen And Up Audiences, 35,216 words)
Summary: No one knows Tony is Iron Man. Then Tony gets amnesia, and literally no one knows Tony is Iron Man.
To Make Much of Time by Sineala (@sineala) (Stony, Teen And Up Audiences, 16,114 words)
Summary: When Iron Man rejects Steve's romantic advances, Steve is disappointed, but of course he understands -- Iron Man's secret identity is important. But when a portal opens and Tony Stark crashes into their midst from twelve years in the future, Steve starts to suspect that there are more secrets here than he can even begin to comprehend, and neither Iron Man nor Tony are providing any answers. Also available as a podfic read by paraka (@paraka)
What Lies Behind by kdm103020, xinsomniac1101x (@kdm103020, with art by @xinsomniac1101x) (Stony, Teen And Up Audiences, 63,364 words)
Summary: Four months after the Battle of New York, Steve Rogers still hasn't managed to find his footing. The new century is strange and upsetting, and he appears to have no purpose in it. But when SHIELD sends him to liaise with the director of Stark Industries, his life starts to change in ways he could never imagine. Or, the MCU-rooted AU, in which Steve and Tony both still maintain their secret identities.
with liberty and justice for all by ria_green (Matt Murdock/Steve Rogers, Teen And Up Audiences, 14,020 words)
Summary: Steve and Matt's relationship is basically a romantic comedy. Except for one minor complication - they're both hiding their superhero/vigilante identities from each other.
89 notes · View notes