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kkodzvken · 3 years

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suit up - hawks x f. reader

the one where keigo marries the girl of his dreams, and then takes her home and shows her just how loved she is. title cred/inspo: suit up by jonghyun

notes/warnings: smut and fluff (your teeth may rot and fall out, you’ve been warned), soft dom!keigo, praise kink, slight size kink, oral (f. receiving), unprotected sex + creampie. reader and kei use the traffic light safe word system and they review it beforehand, and he checks in with her at one point but she’s green, so everything is 100% consensual. they flirt + kei says explicit things at the reception but nothing /actually/ happens in public. mentions of alcohol

wc: 5.3k

a/n: this idea’s been bouncing around my head for a while bc i wanna marry this dumbass so bad :’) my first full hawks fic!! im so happy hehe

Beautiful.

You’re so beautiful.

Keigo’s always known, of course. He’s found you beautiful since the very first moment that he laid his eyes on you, all those years ago. He tells you that you’re beautiful every single day, no matter how much you roll your eyes or jokingly tell him to shut up.

You’re beautiful all the time, but there are certain moments that leave him especially breathless. The day that you foolishly challenged Rumi to an arm-wrestling match. The determined look in your eye as you clenched your fist, sweat dripping down your brow and arm muscles straining (you lost, of course – the rabbit hero was ridiculously jacked). The brilliant smile that graces your face whenever he brings you flowers or little souvenirs from his work trips. The very first morning after you moved into his penthouse, when he woke up next to your peaceful sleeping form, and realized that he’d have mornings like this for the rest of his life.

The day that he flew you up to the mountains for a starlit picnic. The smile on your face as you polished off your meal, and the way that your hand flew up to your mouth when he got down on one knee. Your teary-eyed look of pure love as he slipped the ring onto your finger, the diamond gleaming like one of the stars that shone down on you. The way that your eyes rolled back and your legs wrapped around his waist when he took you home and fucked you for hours.

And right now. Keigo swore that his heart damn near burst at the sight of you. The organist was playing, but he couldn’t hear the notes, couldn’t hear anything besides the blood rushing in his ears. Your hands clasped an elegant flower bouquet, and Keigo was sure that the blossoms were pretty, but he couldn’t spare even a second to glance at them. No, his entire focus was trained on you. You, with your beautiful dress that perfectly accentuated the body that he loved so much. When your eyes raised to meet his, and that perfect smile worked its way across your face… he had to bite his inner cheek to try and hold the tears back.

In a simultaneous eternity and heartbeat, you were handing off your bouquet to a bridesmaid and clasping Keigo’s large hands with your much smaller ones. The officiant was speaking, but Keigo didn’t process any of it. The sight of your eyes shining up at him, more beautiful than any of the stars in the night sky, was the only thing anchoring him to the world. He felt like he was floating through a dreamscape with only you, the happiness in his chest powerful and all-encompassing.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You’re talking to a group of your old friends from high school when a tap against your shoulder grabs your attention, and you turn to see your fiancé – no, your husband – smirking down at you. He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you close. “Excuse me, ladies,” he says to your friends. “Mind if I steal her for a moment?” His amber eyes glint mischievously, and you swear that a whole swarm of butterflies take flight in your stomach.

Your friends giggle and nod, and then Keigo’s spinning you around so that you’re face-to-face. He’s stunning, in his black suit and red dress shirt, the shade of crimson matching his wings perfectly. “Dance with me, dove,” he says, before leaning down to press a quick kiss against your lips. You nod, and he leads you towards the center of the venue, where most of your guests are dancing to some cheesy pop song. Keigo nods at the DJ, who nods back and switches to the music. Soft synth notes travel through the speakers, before the singer’s dreamy voice floods your ears.

Your hands find their way to his broad shoulders. His wings move to wrap around you protectively. You’re not sure if he even realizes that he does it – it’s such a normal thing, now, for him to shield you, to create a little cocoon for the two of you. You frown as you feel his muscles moving underneath your fingers. “You’re too tense,” you say, fingers gently kneading at the parts of his back that you can reach. “Let me give you a massage once we get home.”

He chuckles, one of his own hands coming up to capture yours. He laces your fingers together before bringing your hand up to his lips and pressing a gentle kiss against your skin. The look he gives you is so tender, the love radiating off his body so palpable, that it makes your knees feel week. “Sweet, but I’m the one who’s going to be taking care of you tonight.” You open your mouth to protest, but he tuts, and a feather flies up to shush at your lips. “No, listen. You’re driving me crazy. Every time I turn my head, I see you looking so damn beautiful that my heart stops. Makes me wanna just pull you away and rip that pretty dress off.”

You gasp at his words, a pretty blush dusting your cheeks. “Kei! People are gonna hear you!”

He shrugs, pulling you even closer and swaying your bodies lightly to the music. “Let them,” he says nonchalantly, but the glint in his eye is pure sin. He leans down so that his lips brush against the shell of your ear. You can’t help the shudder that wracks through your body as his warm breath hits your skin. “You’re so cute when you’re blushing like that. Did I make you flustered, baby?” His fingers release yours, instead gripping your chin and forcing you to meet his eyes. “Answer me, love.”

You nod, feeling small. Only Keigo can affect you like this, can reduce you to a trembling mess with just a few words.

You love it.

He smirks at your confession, pressing a kiss against your cheek before leaning his forehead against yours. “What do you say we jump ship, babe?” Your confusion must show on your face, because he continues. “I think I might die if I have to wait much longer to get my hands on you. And judging by the way you’re acting… I’d bet good money that you’re already dripping for me.”

“Kei!” You swat at his chest before burying your face in it. He laughs, one of his real, genuine laughs that makes your heart soar, before kissing the crown of your head.

“I don’t see you denying it.”

“Shut up.”

“Aw, is my cute little wife flustered?”

Wife. The word sounds so pretty rolling off his lips that you can’t resist retreating from the safety of his chest to press your lips against his. He cups your face with one of his large, rough hands and kisses you back. His wings shift to cover you up before the hand on your waist moves down to pinch at your ass – or, at least, it tries. The layers of your dress obstruct him, and he growls in frustration.

You can’t help but whine as well. You want him all the time, of course. Years of being together haven’t changed how fucking badly you want him all the time. You’d used up all your willpower behaving for the ceremony and the reception so far. You’d been good, had kept your hands to yourself throughout dinner and the toasts. But now, the mix of his body against yours, the dirty words that he’d whispered into your ear, and the cocktails running through your bloodstream were making it very hard for you to ignore the pooling heat between your legs.

You wanted him. You wanted your husband.

“Please,” you whisper. Under normal circumstances, you’d hate how whiny and pathetic you sound, but you’re too far gone to care. “Please, let’s go, Kei. Need you.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

A few whispered words to Rumi, and a knowing smirk from her, and you were gone. It was surprisingly easy to slip out the venue. You’d expected to be stopped by some nosy family member, but it seemed that everyone was too tipsy and having too much fun to care. Nevertheless, you had to be careful once you stepped out into the fresh night air. The number two hero’s wedding was perfect paparazzi bait. You didn’t even want to think about the feeding frenzy that the media would go into if they caught sight of you now.

The night sky was like a shield, though, and it protected you from prying eyes. You’d been discreet when picking the wedding and reception venues, and even more discreet in choosing your honeymoon destination. Tomorrow morning, you and Keigo would fly up to the mountains, where he’d rented a little cabin for the two of you. By some miracle, he’d managed to get a whole week off work – a whole week where you’d have him, entirely to yourself.

But right now, you aren’t thinking about tomorrow morning, or the lovely, peaceful honeymoon that you were about to embark on. Right now, the only thing you can think about is Keigo. Keigo, with his beautifully messy hair that moved like ocean waves as you soared through the air. There’s nothing in this world that you love more than flying with him, pressed against his sturdy body with his strong arms wrapped around you. Light pollution makes it hard to see the sky from the ground, but up here, the moon and stars are breathtaking.

Almost as breathtaking as your husband, who’s eyes are prettier than any stars could ever hope to be.

He looks down and catches you staring, taking him in with your wide, wondrous eyes. You can barely hear anything through the noise-cancelling headphones that he makes you wear whenever you fly, but his words reach you, clear as day – “I love you.”

“And I love you.” Your voice comes out small, stolen away by the rushing wind. You try again, louder this time. “I love you!”

He chuckles, chest shaking as he tries to keep his laughs contained. “You trying to one-up me? I can be loud too.” He takes a deep breath, before tipping his head back and shouting an I love you up into the heavens.

His lips are soft and sweet as candy when they dip down to meet yours. “I’m just so happy,” he whispers against you. “You make me so happy.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The moment that you set foot into the penthouse, you gasp.

“Oh, Kei,” you breathe, hand flying over your mouth.

He bounces nervously as he locks up the balcony door, not meeting your eye. “Do…do you not like it?”

You march up to him and grab his face in your hands, before standing up onto your tip-toes and planting a kiss on his forehead. “I love it, baby. Really, you’ve outdone yourself.”

He perks up at the praise, kissing your lips once before his hands move down and he picks you up, clean off the ground. You can’t hold your shrieking laugh back as he spins you around, a smile lighting up his face like a god damn Christmas tree.

The house is beautiful. Really, he did outdo himself. Back when you’d first started dating, he’d had to call off your six-month-anniversary date because of a mission. You’d assured him that it was fine, that you understood, but you’d be lying if you said that you weren’t upset. He promised that he would be back in a week at the latest. You’d spent the night with your friends, eating ice cream and watching shitty movies, and left for work the next morning. You weren’t expecting him back for a few days at least, but when you opened your door after an exhausting day at work, he was there, waiting for you. Scratches on his face and bandages on his arms, but he was there. And he’d decorated your apartment with flowers and fairy lights, centered around a haphazardly made blanket fort in the center of the living room. Little candles were placed across the room, each with a red feather standing guard, making sure that the flames didn’t accidentally get knocked over and grow. After you’d gotten over your initial shock – how the hell did you get in here, Kei – you ran into his arms and squeezed him, tight. He didn’t let go of you for the entire night – his body always pressed against yours, fingers constantly entwined, even as he made you cum so many times that you forgot your own name.

It was one of your fondest memories, one that always brought a smile to your face. You’d mentioned it offhandedly last week, while you were in the weeds with wedding planning. Honestly, you didn’t think that he’d even heard what you said, with how stressed and busy the two of you were. He was picking up extra patrols to make up for his honeymoon vacation time, and you were working your ass off to get your overbearing boss off your back.

But he had heard. He heard, and he listened, because that’s just the kind of lover – the kind of husband – that Keigo is. Attentive, sweet, and intuitive. You swear, he spoils you beyond belief. You don’t even know when he got the time to decorate the apartment today, but it’s beautiful. Even more beautiful than the decorations from your six-month-anniversary, because this time, the sight is sweetened by the knowledge that this is your shared home. This isn’t just your apartment, that your friends helped sneak him into so he could fancy it up. This is your shared space, where you’ll spend the rest of your lives together. Where you’ll wake up in his arms every morning, his wings wrapped around you protectively, fragmenting the morning light into shards of red. Where you’ll make meals together and laugh at his bad cooking, where you’ll take sanctuary from the harshness of the world. This place is your home. Keigo is your home.

He finally stops spinning, but refuses to set you down. Instead, he readjusts you so that he’s carrying you bridal style. You almost laugh at how cliché it is. It feels like something out of a cheesy rom-com, but you’re so happy that you feel like you’re in one of those rom-coms.

You do laugh out loud when you see the trail of petals leading to your bedroom. Keigo feigns disappointment, dramatically sighing. “Don’t laugh, princess, you wound me.” That just makes you laugh even more, and soon, he’s joining in, burying his face in your hair as he walks the two of you towards the bed. “C’mon, I’m trying to be romantic! Quit making me laugh!”

“I can’t help it,” you giggle as he gently places you onto the bed. Thankfully, he had the common sense to not put any petals on the actual bed, but the floor is absolutely covered. Blossoms line the walls as well, along with candles that bathe the room in their gentle glow. You take a second to admire how beautiful your husband looks in the soft light. The shadows make his wings seem that much bigger as they unfurl to their full size. He looms over you, looking like the most delicious mix of devil and angel that you’ve ever seen. There’s still a playful smile on his face, but something mischievous simmers beneath it.

“Hope you didn’t forget what you said at the reception hall, baby,” he says, eyes glinting. “What was it? Hmm, something like, need you, Kei, need you to take me home and fuck me, I’m already so wet for you.”

You groan and try to bury your face in your hands, but he’s too fast. He grabs your wrists and pins them above your head, easily wrapping them with just one of his large hands. “You’re making shit up,” you pout. “I only said the first part.”

“So you admit you said it? That you need me?”

“Shut up.”

“Mm, no thanks.”

You groan again, trying to suppress your smile. There are plenty of times that you and Keigo have had “serious” sex, but you mostly find yourself like this, devolving into giggles and teasing. There’s something about him that makes you feel so safe and at ease, and you can’t help yourself from giggling at his stupid remarks. He laughs, and releases your wrists to cradle your face with both his hands. He shifts so that he’s properly on top of you, his thighs on either side of your hips, and bends down to press kisses all over your face.

“My wife,” he breathes, in between kisses. “My sweet, beautiful, amazing wife. This dress is so pretty, but let’s take it off, my love. You don’t need it anymore.”

It takes a few minutes of awkward wriggling and tugging to finally remove the lace monstrosity, but at long last, the dress ends up on the floor. Keigo’s hands are on your body in an instant, fingers trailing over the curve of your waist and snapping the waistband of your panties. “God, you’ve got such pretty little lingerie on.”

“Wanted to dress up for you,” you say, pawing at his tie and trying to loosen the knot. It makes you feel small, to be so exposed while he’s still fully dressed. Normally you love to savor in that feeling, but right now, you need to feel his bare skin against yours. “Now take your clothes off, please.”

You finally manage to loosen his tie enough to pull it over his head. After stopping for another deep kiss, your hands continue their path over his body. His suit jacket comes off next, although he has to help you gently maneuver it off his wings. His cuff links clatter to the ground as you almost viciously rip off his dress shirt, and you moan when you finally feel his warm muscles.

You’re practically grinding into each other by now. Little whines leave your lips as you shamelessly roll your hips, seeking any friction you can get. You can feel his hardness, even through his thick pants, and you chase it with vigor. He’s not much better, a light blush dusting his face as he meets your rolls with shallow thrusts of his own. “Off, off, Kei, need to feel you,” you babble, fingers desperately trying to undo this belt buckle. Breathlessly, he pushes your fingers aside and pulls his belt off, unceremoniously throwing it across the room. You half expect it to collide with a candle and set the entire building on fire, but a few feathers fly out to catch it and gently set it down.

You don’t waste a second in pulling his pants down and throwing them as well, trusting that a feather will keep it from crashing into anything. Your fingers try to pull down the waistband of his boxers, but he tuts and grabs your hand.

You look up at him with pleading eyes. “Please,” you whine.

The smile on his face is gentle beyond belief as he answers. “I told you that I was going to take care of you tonight, baby. Let me make you feel good, okay? Can I make you feel good?”

You want to protest, want to beg him to stuff your face or your cunt and fuck into you until you’re lightheaded, but Keigo’s insistent about making you cum at least twice before even thinking about his own pleasure. And you can’t deny that you’re aching for him. You’re certain that you’ve soaked through your flimsy panties by now, and your mind is hazy with want.

You nod. Keigo takes your face in his hand, gently stroking your cheek with his thumb. “Can you give me your colors too?”

You force your mind to push through the fog, force your heavy lips to move and form words. “G-green for good, yellow for slow down, red for stop.”

“Good girl.” The praise goes straight to your core, and you whine. “Oh, baby, I know I just vowed to give you everything you could ever want, but you’re so damn needy. Be patient for me, okay? Let me touch you.”

You nod obediently, but you can’t fight the urge roll your hips and feel him again. With a soft, scolding noise, he presses one of his hands into your hipbone, effectively pinning you to the mattress. Try as you might, you can’t squirm away. He’s so ridiculously strong, his muscles toned from years of training and hero work, that you’re no match for him. But it’s not so bad. You love the dominance that oozes off his body as he moves down, his hands and tongue exploring every inch of skin that they can find. His teeth nip at the sensitive spot on your neck, the spot that always makes you melt for him. You shamelessly sigh and tilt your head to give him more access.

His right hand, the one that isn’t currently pinning you to the mattress, plays with the lacy edges of your bra. He palms you through the thin fabric, making you groan and arch your back into his touch. It’s not enough, you need more, need to feel more of him before you lose your mind. He seems to read your mind, because he doesn’t even bother to unclasp the bra, electing instead to rip it clean off your body. The snap of the straps breaking makes you gasp, but you revel in the sting of the elastic bouncing back against your skin.

“Couldn’t wait,” he says, not a hint of shame on his face. “You know how much I love to tease, but fuck, I need you now.”

He’s a bit more ceremonious when he removes your panties, choosing to use a hardened feather to slice through the fabric instead of just ripping with brute force. He fucking moans at the sight of you, wet and needy for him. It sounds like absolute heaven, but you don’t have even a second to revel in it before he’s diving into you. The sudden rush of pleasure is electrifying, and you go to instinctively slam your legs shut, but Keigo’s hand is too fast again. His tongue doesn’t falter for even a second as his fingers dig into your thighs and push you open. His lips wrap around your clit and suck, and he’s outrageously loud as he moans into your sex. It’s all so much – he’s licking at you like a man on death row, coaxing little whines and gasps from your lips.

His beautiful eyes are trained on yours, pupils blow out with love and lust. He memorizes every little expression that flits across your beautiful face as he eases a finger into you, eyes only leaving your face to admire the way that your little cunt sucks him in. But he can’t tear his gaze away from you, and the way your mouth falls open, or the way that your eyes flutter and roll back. The way that your hands ball up into fists, alternating between grabbing the bedsheets and lacing through his hair. Fuck, he loves how you pull at his hair when his fingers curl up against that spongy spot inside of you that makes you see stars. Loves the little curses and gasps of his name that spill past your lips as he scissors and thrusts his digits deeper and deeper into your perfect pussy.

“Cum for me, princess,” he groans. “Please, cum for me, need you to be a good girl and cum for me.”

And, well, you did just vow to give him everything that he could ever want.

You throw your head back and almost sob as you gush all over his face and fingers. He’s insatiable, licking and fingering you all through it, desperately trying to lap up every single drop of your juices. Your body is shaking, and you whimper, the overstimulation building until it’s too much, until you’re crying out too much, Kei, ‘s too much!

“Give me your color, baby,” he says, slowing his assault against your body.

“G-green,” you stutter out, the words as shaky as your legs. “Green, don’t stop, it’s just – ah! Kei!”

Your verbal confirmation was all he needed to dive back in, sucking at you with even more vigor than before. His fingers twist and curl against your spot, and his tongue lashes at your clit. He doesn’t stop for even a second, burying himself in your heat. It’s all you can do to maintain your grip on his hair, tugging at it just the way that he loves. You’re thrust headfirst into your second orgasm of the night, crying out his name and positively sobbing at the onslaught of sensations.

When he finally pulls away, the lower part of his face is soaked with your cum. He makes a show of licking his lips clean, not breaking eye contact with you, no matter how much you blush and squirm. He saves his fingers for you, though. A gentle tap at your lips is all it takes for you to obediently open your mouth and take in his digits. You swirl your tongue around, eyes lidded with the afterglow of your pleasure.

But you’re not finished, are nowhere near finished. You suppose that you are being needy, but how could you not, when your husband looks like an absolute fucking god? The candlelight makes your cum on his face glisten beautifully. You whine and pull him in for a kiss, mashing your lips against his and greedily swiping your tongues together. It’s sinful. You can taste yourself on him, and it makes you shudder, makes you need him that much more.

“Please, please fuck me,” you beg, wrapping your legs around his slim waist and trying to pull him closer, closer, closer. “Please, Kei, need you inside me, need my husband inside me.”

“Fuck,” he breathes, so quietly that you would’ve missed it if you didn’t feel the word formed against your lips. “Fuck, baby, okay.” His hand slides between your bodies and quickly pushes his boxers down. He uses a feather to pull them all the way off, because he can’t be bothered to focus on that, not when you’re practically drooling at the sight of his cock.

Your fingers twitch, and you aren’t able to hold back any longer. Your hand finds his cock, marveling at how heavy and perfect he feels as you wrap your fingers around him and guide him towards your sopping cunt. You pause before you slide him in, though, looking up at him with wide eyes. “Can I ride you? Please?”

He curses again under his breath, practically shivering at your words. His strong hands reposition the both of you, until you’re sitting on his thigh and he’s leaning back against the headboard. He cocks an eyebrow and smirks. “Well, then? Get to work, princess.”

You roll your eyes, trying not to laugh at his antics. “What happened to Mr. Let-Me-Take-Care-Of-You?”

“He’ll come out later. If my pretty wife wants to ride me, she gets to ride me.”

You laugh for real this time, but it quickly turns into a moan as you sink yourself down on his length. No matter how many times you take him, he always overwhelms your senses, always stretches you so deliciously. You lean your forehead against his and give yourself a second to adjust, and then you’re rolling your hips, little whines leaving your lips.

“Feels so good, Kei.” You throw your head back, your fingers digging into the strong muscles of his back to anchor yourself. “You always feel so good.”

His eyes are half-lidded and dark as he takes you in. He’s memorizing every inch of your body, every detail and movement that he absolutely fucking adores. “You’re the most beautiful thing in the world,” he whispers, seemingly more to himself than you. “So beautiful. I’m so lucky.”

Your thighs burn, but you force yourself to ignore the pain. You’d rather die than stop right now. His strong arms encircle your waist, and his wings surround your bodies, ruffling with every one of your movements.

You want to ignore your exhaustion, but your husband is perceptive as ever. His hips raise up to meet you, and it sends a fresh wave of pleasure through your body. You’re shaky, though, and you’re getting sloppy.

Before you can even process what’s happening, you’re being spun over and pinned to the mattress. A gasp leaves your lips, and you whine as his cock slips out of you. Your hand reaches out and paws around wildly, searching for him through your haze. Keigo’s quick to kiss you and shush your protests, entwining his rough fingers in your searching hand and stroking his thumb against your palm.

“Relax, angel. Let me take care of it.”

He slides into you again, making you both moan. Your pussy sucks him in greedily, clenching and fluttering around him. He pauses once he bottoms out. His face buries into the crook of your neck, and he presses sweet kisses all over your skin.

You wrap your legs around his waist and squeeze, trying desperately to make him move. “Keigo, baby, please,” you whine, fingers digging into the strong muscles of his back.

He coos, cupping your face and kissing you before he readjusts himself. “Of course, pretty girl.”

His thrusts are deep and hard, so hard that they make the entire bed shake. Your eyes flutter shut, but he grips your jaw and begs you to keep them open – please, baby, look at me, need to see my pretty wife fall apart.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he moans, teeth nipping at your lips. “So perfect, and all mine.”

“All yours,” you agree. You’re practically babbling by this point, unable to stop the noises slipping past your lips. You’re floating on a cloud, soaring through the sky, anchored only by his body against yours. “You’re so deep in me, Kei, can feel you so deep in me. Please, ‘m so close, just a lil’ bit more, Kei.”

He coos again, hand slipping down to toy with your clit. You wail, sinking your teeth into his shoulder as the coil in your stomach snaps and you gush uncontrollably. You can’t do anything but cry out for him, can’t do anything but cling onto him and shake and twitch. The feeling of you clenching around him is too much, and with a broken fuck and a cry of your name, he spills inside of you. He fucks you through it, the obscene sounds of your combined release making you feel lightheaded and weak.

He holds you for a few minutes, just like that, bodies entwined. You both pant and try to catch your breath. The weight of his body on top of yours is comforting, so you protest when he finally pulls out and sits back to admire the way that his seed drips out of you.

“Come back,” you complain. “What kind of husband doesn’t give cuddles to his wife?”

“The kind of husband who needs to clean her up,” he says with a chuckle. “C’mon, let’s go take a bath.

Your body feels boneless with exhaustion and the hazy afterglow of your three orgasms, so you’re grateful when he scoops you into his arms. You tuck your face into his neck and hum contentedly, unable to stop the giddy smile that blooms across your face.

“I love you, Kei,” you say, planting little kisses over his neck and jaw.

“I love you too, princess,” he says, grinning and poking your nose. He laughs when you scrunch it up and scowl at him. But, with how cute he looks, you just can’t hold the scowl for long. Soon, you’re giggling too.

You look up at him with so much love that it makes his heart ache. His eyes grow a bit more serious, and he dips his head to kiss at your swollen lips. “I mean it, baby. I’m so happy to spend the rest of my life with you.”

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chokemeanakin · 3 years

Text

Misunderstandings - Anakin x fem Reader (angst +fluff)

Masterlist

Thank you for the request @artiza-n ! 💕

Wc: 6.4k

Summary: Anakin and reader get sent to Naboo to guard Padme and Clovis during a debate and some misunderstandings ensue. Mostly jealous angst, some fluff at the end— happy ending bc we all need that right now.

Gif from @swprequels

“I still don’t understand why they need both of us,” you grumble, rubbing sleep out of your eyes as you walk out of the cruiser. The day is hot on Naboo, but grey and cloudy with a promise of rain later. The humidity makes your skin sticky, worsening your irritation.

“Think of it as a vacation,” Anakin pulls the luggage from the transport cubby, setting it on the ground beside him. “You watch over Clovis, and I’ll handle Padme. It should be a breeze.”

“Exactly. Which is why I don’t understand why they need both of us.”

You had just gotten back from a long and grueling siege on Pontoon, another one of those vast, endless desert planets in the Outer Rims. You’d really much rather be sitting in front of an air cooler right now, resting your tired bones and trying to forget the taste of sand.

“These are two very important Senators, Y/n,” Anakin waved off your attempt to help him with the luggage. “If anything happens to them at this debate, the Senate will lose important advocates for peace and the end of this war.”

You knew this, of course you did. Not that you’d completely agree with his statement-- Clovis always seemed a little shady to you, his morals seemingly scattered all over the place. You guessed that’s why the Council sent you, a simple marksman, to guard Clovis while the beloved freedom-fighter Padme Amidala got the most powerful Jedi to ever exist.

“Besides,” said Jedi nudged you, lips curling into a teasing smile. “Don’t you want to spend time with me?”

Of course you do. Between the war and separate guild or Council missions you’d both been sent on, neither of you had time to even breathe in the others’ direction for months. The only reason the Council was able to wrangle you onto this cruiser was because Anakin was going to be there. Not that you’d even be able to spend much time with him during the day, although you were aware that you’d be sharing a room in between the Senators you’d be protecting at night…

You and Anakin meet the Senators at the hull of the ship. They walk down the ramp side by side, heads held high and hands clasped in front of them. Their movements are smooth, like they’re gliding on water, and the heat doesn’t seem to bother either of them.

“Master Skywalker. Y/n. Thank you so much for being here, it is so courageous of the both of you to be looking out for us,” Padme stands before you, beautiful as ever in one of her many extravagant, expensive gowns. The headpiece woven through her hair sparkles in the midday light, the warmth of her eyes capturing the rays of the brilliant sun. “However, I must say that I hope your services are not needed. I’d much rather this debate go by smoothly than have any dangerous interruptions.”

“I can assure you, we’ll take care of any problems before they arrive. Leave the dirty work up to us,” Anakin returns her smile, charming as ever.

Anakin shoots you a glance and then follows her away, carrying multiple bags of luggage in each arm as Padme shows him where to put it. For such a small woman, she seemed to pack heavy. Unfortunately, this leaves you and Clovis to stand alone together, an awkward stillness settling before you.

“Um, Anakin has your luggage,” you yawn into your arm, gesturing to his receding form with the other. “I’m Y/n, and I’ll be your bodyguard for this debate.”

“You?” Clovis doesn’t smile, instead he scans you up and down with hawkish eyes. “You’re such a small thing. What could you possibly be able to do to protect me?”

It’s not said unkindly, but it still irks you. Your eyes narrow and you bite back a nasty retaliation for the sake of diplomacy. “You’ll find I’m pretty good with a blaster. The best, actually, according to the Jedi Council. That’s why they have me work with the Generals in the war.”

“Are you a General yourself?” Clovis begins to walk, heading toward the senate building. You follow at his side.

“Not exactly. They offered me the title, but I declined. I’m more of a freelancer, and once the war ends, I’ll go back to taking odd jobs. Besides, there’s no use in having an army if I don’t know what to do with it.”

“Humble. That’s admirable,” Clovis’s mouth tilts into something of a smile. “I, myself, could never turn down an army. Or the status, for that matter. You could be holding a lot of power if you pushed your way with the Jedi Council, you know.”

“My way?” you questioned. “I just told you, I don’t have a way--”

“And that’s your flaw,” he mused, chin still pointed up, never quite looking at you. “How curious-- your Jedi counterpart seems to have stolen all the ambition.”

You roll your eyes. You never had a thirst for power, or status, or influence, or any of that. Your power came from behind a blaster, when your focus was trained on a single target and your finger was glued to the trigger. One simple twitch of a muscle, and you could end a life from miles away. That was your power, and it was all you needed.

He is right about Anakin, you have to admit. He was always looking to be better, not just for himself, but for the good of others. You love that about it, in fact it’s one of your favorite qualities about him. Sometimes, though, you wished he could see that he didn’t have to try so hard all the time to believe he was enough.

The blast of cold air that hits you as you enter the senate building wrenches you out of your thoughts. It whisks away the perspiration that had built up on your skin, cooling your body and calming your mood almost magically. The sounds of your collective footsteps tap along the glossy marble floor, echoing throughout the empty chamber.

“Aren’t you going to ask what we’re doing here?” Clovis leans against his podium, marked with a nametag spelling his name. Next to him is your seat, and on Clovis’s other side is Padme, followed by Anakin on the end. A cold dread fills your veins, just now realizing how boring tonight’s debate is going to be.

You sigh inwardly, tracing the engravings of your nametag with the tip of your finger. “My job isn’t to ask questions, it’s to observe.”

“Well, observe away,” he pushes himself off the podium. “Although I don’t think it will be very entertaining.”

He’s right. You sit in your seat, legs crossed on top of your podium as you inspect your nails. It’s been three hours since you’ve arrived, the sun is setting, and all Clovis has done is stroll around the debate room, muttering to himself and pondering through his position. You’re bored out of your mind. Pulling out your holocom, you wonder if Anakin’s situation is any better.

“Y/n?” he picks up a long moment after you send the call, and his face projects blue before you. It’s loud where he is, and his eyes are looking at something else.

“Where are you?” you question. He sounds like he’s a party, but you know that can’t be true. “Where’s Padme?”

“She’s with me,” Anakin tilts his head, signalling that she’s sitting in front of him. “We’re at a restaurant getting dinner. I was just going to ask-- did you and Clovis go somewhere to eat yet?”

You drop your legs from the podium and lean in close to the com, speaking quiet so Clovis can’t hear. “No, he’s barely said a word to me since we got here. He’s been walking around the debate room all afternoon, just talking to himself.”

“You think he’s nervous for tonight?”

“Maybe,” you spare a glance at him. He’s staring at the domed ceiling, as if he’s counting the pillars coming out of it. “Or maybe he’s just psycho.”

“Oh, Clovis knows what he’s doing,” a femine voice interjects. Anakin’s eyes shoot forward again, immediately smiling as Padme speaks. “His pre-debate ritual is long and gruelling-- I should have warned you. He’s simply getting into his headspace, that’s all.”

“How long does it usually take?” you mumble.

“It shouldn’t be much longer. Make sure he eats beforehand, otherwise he’ll be crabby during the debate. And trust me, you don’t want to have to handle a crabby Clovis.”

Both Padme and Anakin laugh at this, and you force yourself to smile along. “Yeah, I’ll go see what he’s up to now.”

“Good,” Anakin says, momentarily drowned out by an uproar of cheers behind him. “We should get going, too. Padme needs to get dressed for the debate. See you soon.”

Anakin ends the call, and you’re left wondering how exactly the topic of dressing Padme came up.

Shoving down your irritation and self-pity, you pocket your com and stand from your seat. Clovis’s head whips toward you like you had pulled a blaster on him.

“What?”

“It’s getting late,” you stretch your arms over your head, working out the kinks and aches from sitting so long. “I was wondering if you were hungry at all.”

“I can’t eat before a debate,” Clovis looks almost angry for a second, and then he glances down at his watch. His expression smooths into one of urgency. “Ah, we should head to the apartments. It’s time to get ready.”

The night is still warm, and the sidewalk drips with a rainstorm that you missed while you were in the senate building. The fresh air is nice, though, and you breathe in the smell of sweet flowers and savory restaurant food. The grumble in your stomach is hard to ignore, but you know you’ll manage.

Clovis leads you all the way to his suite, the temporary apartment that sits in conjunction with yours and Anakin’s, and Padme’s on the other side. Staying in this apartment complex made more sense rather than finding separate housing units, as keeping everyone together would aid in ensuring their safety.

Padme’s mansion would have been a nice stay, you think, but these apartment sweets are also quite luxurious. You walk into the master bedroom to find a formal, dark blue gown laid out for you on the bed. Next to it is a rumpled space where you assume Anakin’s suit had been, but instead there’s a note and a box.

Padme wanted to get to the senate building early, so we’re probably going to just miss you. Too bad, I won’t get to help you into this sexy blue dress. Maybe I can help you out of it later.

You laugh softly, smoothing your thumb over the inked-on smiley face before finishing the note.

I’m not sure if you had time to get anything to eat, so I got you something while we were out. See you soon.

You don’t need an “I love you” scrawled into the paper in order to know he wanted to add it. That would have been too risky, and there was no way you’d be able to make an excuse if anyone were to find it. Still, you rip up the note and throw it in the trash before opening the box underneath. Your nose is instantly filled with the smell of food, still warm, and you sit next to the blue dress, digging in unceremoniously.

You scarf down as much of the food as you can and then store the rest in the fridge before getting to work on making yourself presentable. You have to look put together, yet not so much that you stand out. You slip a couple of silver clasps into your hair and do your makeup, opting for a bold lip color because you don’t have much time to do anything fancy with your eyes. You’re running short on time-- you know this because of the knock on your door, and then the irritated sound of Clovis:

“Y/n, we have to leave now or we’re going to be late. You know how bad it would be to arrive late to this event?”

You stand in front of the mirror, desperately reaching behind you to grasp at the zipper of your dress. It would be so much easier if Anakin was here to reach it for you, but you make due and quickly pull it up. The dress is form-fitting and flows down into a puddle around your feet. A bit long, as you opted not to wear heels in case something went awry, so you bunch the skirt up in your fists and jog to the door.

“My apologies,” you open the door to find Clovis, now dressed in a pristine black and white suit with his hair gelled back. “I was making sure I had my equipment all in order.”

Clovis ignores your excuse, eyes instantly moving to take in your figure. You could swear they blow open wide for a fraction of a second before he composes himself, clearing his throat and masking his approval with his usual grim expression.

“You clean up quite elegantly. Now, we should head to the lobby, the limousine is waiting for us.”

…

You’re not sure what the point of a limousine is, as the walk from the apartment buildings to the senate building is 10 minutes tops. Probably for formalities, you decide, as Clovis helps you out of the vehicle. The building that had been vacant only a couple hours earlier is now swarming with Senators, all dressed in lavish, extravagant gowns. Everyone is holding a flute of some sort of drink, and they congregate in small groups, making small talk before the debate starts.

Clovis wastes no time with socializing, and beelines for his seat.

You hang back, searching the crowd for Anakin. Without heels, many people tower over you and it’s hard to focus with the deafening sound of chatter filling your ears. But you’re trained for this, have spent your whole life blocking out the unnecessary, so you hone into your patience and scan the crowd closer.

There.

You’d recognize that head of golden-brown curls anywhere, even if it was tamed down for this event. He’s standing tall among the Senators, eyes gleaming bright as he engages a whole crowd of them in some wily story. He and Padme look at each other and laugh, his hand on her shoulder and her hand finding his waist. Your blood suddenly turns hot, and you push your way through the crowd to make it to them.

If you could, you would march right up and pull him away from all those greedy stares. They’re practically drooling all over him, and Padme’s hand is still on his waist. But you know better-- you can’t let anyone know you and Anakin are familiar, so you stand at the edge of the crowd, meeting Anakin’s eye.

You glare at his face, then at Padme’s hand, then back to him. His eyes narrow into a warning, extremely fleeting, and then he continues on charming the crowd. You know what he wanted to say-- it means nothing. It doesn’t stop the heat from blossoming in the pit of your stomach, the irritated glare you shoot Padme before looking down.

Way to stay under the radar, you think, slipping away from the crowd and deciding it’s better to keep your eyes on Clovis than get angry over a move on your boyfriend that was probably innocent.

Clovis is sitting at his seat, still as stone, surveying the crowd before him.

“You nervous?” you take your seat beside him.

“Not at all.”

“Good. You’ve been preparing all afternoon, I think it’d be ridiculous if you still doubted yourself.”

“You… have faith in me.”

“Of course,” your eyes softened at the vulnerability in his statement. “You’re a powerful Senator.”

He huffed, the crack in his green eyes immediately cementing over. “I know.”

And, there he is. Back to being gruff and dismissive.

It’s quiet for a moment longer, but you’re okay with that. Small talk is not an interest of yours either, and you’d much rather sip on the flute of drink that a servant had given you than join the crowd on the floor.

Unfortunately, you have trouble wrenching your eyes away from Padme and Anakin, who are still surrounded by drooling Senators. Padme looks like an angel, dressed in a floor length gown spun out of gold thread that you’re pretty sure came directly from the sun. It shimmers and sparkles as she moves, standing out like a beacon of light among the rest of the room. She is radiant, with a matching headpiece that glitters like a chandelier, the jewels braided in and out of her chocolate curls. Even her makeup is minimal yet blindingly beautiful, with a gold shimmer staining her eyelids and cheekbones that reflect the warmth of her topaz eyes.

“She’s gorgeous, isn’t she?” Clovis murmurs next to you, so quiet you almost don’t hear it.

“Who? Padme?”

“I believe she’s taking quite a liking to the Jedi.”

Heat sparks in your blood again. The fact that even Clovis notices how handsy Padme is being… then again, it’s a known fact that Clovis and Padme have a history, and he could just be reading too far into things out of jealousy.

“You shouldn’t call him that,” you choose to ignore his concerns. “Anyone could be listening.”

“You see that smile? That’s the smile she only ever gave me. I wonder if she even knows she’s doing it…”

“Clovis, Anakin isn’t allowed to form attachments. You have nothing to worry about.”

“It’s not him that bothers me,” he admits. “It’s her. Look. Look at the way she leans into him when she laughs.”

You take his advice and… now that he says it, she does get a little too close for your liking. Every time Anakin finishes a punchline, the crowd erupts in laughter and Padme joins in, bracing herself by gripping onto his arms and grinning into his neck. He catches her, ever the gentlemen, but he’s smiling too.

It’s a little more than innocent, and you can’t tell who’s fault it is. But that doesn’t help the jealousy steadily rising in your chest.

“The debate should be starting soon,” is all you say, leaning back in your seat and scowling into your flute of drink.

The only thing keeping you rooted to the seat instead of launching out of your chair to rip Padme away from Anakin by the hair was the fact that you know you’re the one who’s going to be sharing a bed with him tonight-- not her.

You’re just hoping he even makes it back to your bed. Or will poor Padme need help with something else that requires Anakin’s doting attention?

A bell rings just on time, signaling for the Senators to take their seats. Anakin leads Padme over, arms hooked around each other, and she smiles at you as she approaches.

“Y/n, you look wonderful,” she whispers, and then slides into the seat between Clovis and Anakin.

Your cheeks burn in shame. How can you harbor such awful feelings toward her when she was so sweet? But the anger is worsened by the compliment she had just given you-- it’s one thing to be drop-dead stunning, why does she have to be so kind, too? What are you to compare?

After tonight, Anakin’s probably going to think you are so difficult-- always complaining, always tired, never as pretty or gentle or kind. You don’t have a laugh that twinkles like wind-chimes, or eyes that reflect the light like soft glowing pools of honey. If she is the sun, you are just a cold, hard, chunk of ashen moonrock.

The debate goes on for an eternity. You zone out for a lot of it, stewing in your anger and drowning in self-deprecating thoughts. A few times you’re brought to the brink of tears before you remind yourself you’re here on a mission, and throw yourself into scanning every nook and cranny for something that could be amiss. Eventually, a break is ordered.

Senators begin to rise from their podiums to stretch their legs, including Padme. She tells Anakin she’s going to the washroom, and your eyes zero in on the fingers lingering on his arm as she leaves. You stand as well, meaning to walk a little and stretch your legs, and Anakin follows you.

“Padme’s right,” he catches up to you easily. “You do look wonderful. Blue really is your color.”

You stop by the open window, breathing in the fresh air as you search his eyes for truth. Does he truly mean it? Does he look at you with that same light he had looked at Padme with? Or is he only saying it because he has to? Because he’s used to complimenting you because you’re his girlfriend?

“What? What’s the matter?”

“Nothing,” you lower your gaze, picking at the marble stone engravings of the windowsill.

“Y/n,” Anakin lowers his voice. He’s concerned now, picking up on how upset you are. “I said you look beautiful. What’s the problem?” “No, you said I look wonderful. It’s different than beautiful.” You mean to leave it there, but can’t help but add, grumbling under your breath, “Padme looks beautiful.”

It’s immature. You know it as soon as you say it, but for some reason you can’t stop yourself. You just want Anakin to take more notice of how strong Padme’s coming on to him, to assure you that it means nothing. You know it means nothing, but you still need that confirmation.

“She does,” he says, and your heart drops. You look up at him, and he’s staring back with an intensity you can’t decipher. “She’s a Senator, Y/n, this is her debate. Of course she has to look beautiful.”

“She’s more beautiful,” the words fall from your lips and taste like poison.

“What’s this about?” Anakin’s voice is dripping in irritation. Once hearing it himself, he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. When he opens them, he speaks again in a softer tone. “Why are you comparing yourself to Padme?”

Gah, even the sound of her name coming from his mouth is like nails on a chalkboard. But you decide to do the first smart thing you have all evening, and take a lesson from him. You breathe deeply and bite down on your anger before answering.

“I’m not trying to,” you admit, eyes falling from his face to trace the exposed skin of his neck. “I just-- she’s flirting with you.”

“It’s harmless.”

“I-- I know. But…”

“It still bothers you. You’re jealous.”

“I have nothing to be jealous about,” even saying this, you can hear the lie in your voice. You repeat the statement, more to yourself, trying to believe it. He’s yours-- for now. He could just as easily be Padme’s. What if he wants to be Padme’s?

“Look,” Anakin takes another grounding breath, then fits a finger beneath your chin, tilting it up to look at him. “I can see you’re trying to think rationally, so I’m not going to tell you that you’re being ridiculous. But… you’re being ridiculous.”

“Wow. Thanks.”

“You have to understand, I do not like Padme like you’re thinking. I--” he cuts himself off, eyes flitting around the room before leaning in close to whisper in your ear. “I love you.”

Goosebumps erupt all over your skin, making you shiver. His lips ghosting over your ear, the whispered promise of his devotion to you… suddenly, you feel very stupid.

“Okay,” you accept, and the bells ring again, signalling everyone to take their seats. You head on over with him, but not before putting as much heart into your next words. “I’m sorry for getting jealous.”

“It’s okay,” he gives you the first warm smile of the night, smoothing your hair down quickly before breaking off to take his own seat.

You sit next to Clovis, considerably calmer, replaying Anakin’s whispered “I love you” over and over in your head, the touch of his gentle hand in your hair. There was no need to make such a fuss, and honestly you were upset with yourself for ruining the night. You decide to make another smart decision for the night, and push away all of the negative thoughts to the deepest corner of your mind. No more, not tonight-- instead, you would focus on a way to make it up to him for being so ridiculous, and to thank him for being so patient with you.

It’s as you’re planning the rest of your night out, that you see Clovis’s knee bouncing under the podium. You know his time to speak is coming up soon, and his actions betray his mind. He’s such a liar. He is nervous.

“You’ve got this,” you tell him, reaching onto the podium to give his hand a squeeze. His palms are clammy, and he looks at you like you’ve struck him.

“I know I do,” he spits, but doesn’t move his hand from underneath yours. “It’s just pre-performance jitters.”

His next words are so quiet, you almost don’t catch them.

“It doesn’t help that I have two gorgeous women sitting next to me to witness this all.”

Now it’s your turn to look like you’ve been struck. You know he means for you to hear it, otherwise he wouldn’t have said it. Anakin seems to be thinking the same thing, as you can see him give Clovis a sidelong glance just as Padme takes the seat between them again.

“I-- um… we’re rooting for you,” you fumble. “No need to get nervous now.”

Clovis blows out a long breath, and then covers your hand that’s squeezing his palm with his other. “Thank you, Y/n. You’ve truly been so patient and accommodating this whole night. I must find a way to pay you back afterwards.”

“Oh, there’s no need--” your words are cut off as the delegates call for order, and then the debate resumes. You don’t miss the way Anakin’s back stiffens in his seat.

Clovis works up a nervous sweat in the minutes leading up to his speech, but when he gets up, he delivers it without a flaw. Everyone claps, and then Padme goes. You clap along once she’s finished, trying not to calculate if Anakin is clapping harder or faster for her than anyone else. He’s not… but you just had to be sure.

There never seemed to be any threat for the entire night, except for one instance. A young man stood by the door, eyes shifting around for a moment too long to be casual, and Clovis seemed to notice as well.

“Where, exactly, is that equipment you were speaking of earlier?”

“There’s a strap on my thigh, and it holds my blaster to it. Look,” you pull your skirt back to reveal your leg up to your thigh, where the tip of your blaster peaks out. “See, nothing to worry about.”

It doesn’t even cross your mind that Anakin would notice, or that he’d even mind.

Finally, the debate ends, and the senate room is dismissed. You let out a long breath, ready to just get out of this dress and relax in the suite with Anakin now. However, you stand to leave your seat but Clovis is in your way.

“Y/n, like I said before… I must show my gratitude for your services. Please, let me buy you dinner.”

“Oh-- Oh geez… um.... I can’t,” your eyes flit from Clovis to Anakin, who’s standing behind him. He’s got his back turned, bidding farewell to the new friends he made, but you know for sure that he’s listening. “I really need to go to bed, we’re leaving early in the morning.”

“You can come to my suite, we can order room service. They’re right next to each other… besides, you can always just stay over at mine for the night. There’s room.”

That tone. Those eyes. You know what he’s insinuating, and it sure as hell isn’t just dinner.

“Clovis, I’d love to, but I really can’t.”

“Oh. Okay.”

The green cracks of his eyes are hardening again, the soft daisies growing from them being wrenched out in clenched fists and stomped under a boot. You want to stop them from freezing over in that insufferable ice again, and decide it might be nice to humor him for a job well done tonight. After all, he was a lot kinder to you than you thought he’d ever be, and part of you likes being one of the few people on his good side.

“How about I walk back with you to the apartments? We can do that much.”

Clovis smiles, and holds out an arm. “I’ll take it.”

As Clovis escorts you out of the debate room, you turn to look back at Anakin. He’s ushering Padme out of the crowds, staring after you as you leave. He doesn’t smile, or wave, or do anything really. Except look angry.

A sudden ball of nervousness forms in the pit of your stomach. Oh no. Offering to do this was a mistake, that much is becoming clear with every step you take with Clovis latched onto your arm. You can feel Anakin’s eyes burning into your back the entire way out of the senate building, until you’re on the streets of Naboo and he’s off in a limousine with Padme.

Of course he’s going to be angry at you now. You were mad at him for allowing Padme to flirt with him, and now he’s going to think you’re making a move on Clovis to get back at him for it. Even though that’s not at all what’s happening… Oh how the tables have turned.

You’re jittery the whole walk back. Clovis tries to make conversation, but you only offer him short, clipped answers. Really, you should have shut down his advances in the debate room. No matter that you pitied him for being rejected by Padme and yourself, you should have said no. You didn’t owe him anything. But here you are, and now you are going to suffer the consequences from Anakin when you get back to your room.

“Are you sure you can’t stop in? Not even just for a drink?” Clovis asks as you make it to the top of the stairs. You turn the corner, and Anakin is leaning against your apartment door, arms crossed, clearly waiting for you.

“Uhh,” you unwind your arm from around Clovis’s. “I really can’t. Sorry.”

Clovis follows your gaze, and sees Anakin. His tone turns steely. “Is it because of that Jedi?”

“No, oh my-- no!” you feign the most incredulous expression you can, nerves growing more frenzied as you grow closer to your apartment door. “I really am just so tired. Please Clovis, I have to go.”

“Y/n, it doesn’t have to be like this--”

“You’re right,” a deep voice cuts in. “It doesn’t.”

Anakin takes the arm that Clovis refused to let go of, and slips it out of his grasp. Thankfully, for Clovis’s sake, he lets him. Anakin pushes you behind him and stands before Clovis, towering over him by a couple inches.

“It was a pleasure serving you and Senator Amidala. Hopefully we can work together again soon. Have a good night”

Each word that comes from his lips are dripping with venom. Clovis grows red in the face, and you can tell he’s trying hard not to retaliate. In the end, he decides to turn and stalk back to his own apartment door.

Once it slams shut, Anakin turns to you. You meet his eyes with the most innocent expression you can put on.

“None of that,” he hisses, and steps past you to walk into the apartment.

“Oh, come on!” you follow close behind, closing the door and jogging to catch up with him. He’s standing before the bed, roughly loosening his tie. “Anakin, please don’t be mad. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Really? How am I supposed to believe that after what happened earlier?”

“Yes, okay, I admit I was jealous of you and Padme. But I got over it! I swear I wasn’t trying to get you back for it, I promise. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

Anakin pulls the buttons off his shirt so hard, you’re afraid they might break. Suddenly, he is shirtless, and so very mad, and so very tall… and muscular… and… wow…

“You can’t even look me in the eye when you say that,” he argues, stopping to stand before you. You wrench your eyes away from his toned midriff and meet his eyes, which are blazing with hurt and anger. A warmth is rising in your veins-- a different kind than earlier-- but it’s beat out with something stronger. Guilt.

“I’m sorry,” you tell him, trying so desperately to ignore the heat that’s radiating off his chest. “I really am. Clovis was just… kinder than I expected him to be--”

“Was he? Was he kind when he had you sit in silence all afternoon in the senate building? Was he kind when he refused to let you eat? When he guilt-tripped you into spending time with him?”

“That’s not exactly what happened,” you cross your arms and size him up. “And you’re not totally innocent either, you know.”

“Really?” Anakin cocks an eyebrow at you, sitting down on the bed roughly. He leans back on his arms, daring you to continue.

“You let Padme flirt with you, and you never told her to stop. You could have set some boundaries, told her to back off a little...”

“And you could have told me you were leaving with Clovis before gathering your skirts and skipping away,” Anakin bites back.

“I wasn’t planning to! Anakin, please, both of us made mistakes tonight. Can we just agree on that?”

He frowns, eyes flickering over your still-dressed form. He motions for you to come closer and turn around, so you do. Gentle fingers work at the zip on your back, dragging it down to free you from the constraints. You remember the note he wrote from earlier, how he couldn’t wait to take the dress off of you, and grow disappointed at how the night had gone. This was not the context you had been expecting.

The way his hands linger on your waist, you know he’s thinking the same thing.

“Okay. We both made mistakes.” You feel his soft curls against the bare skin of your back as rests his forehead against you. You hold your dress up in the front so as not to expose yourself. “I’m sorry for letting Padme flirt with me. I should have put an end to it-- I know it hurt you to watch.”

“It did,” you whisper. “But I’m also sorry. For getting so jealous even though you never accepted her advances, and for making it seem like I was trying to get revenge. It wasn’t my intention.”

A soft “it’s okay” is kissed into your back. His hands grip your waist, turning you in his grasp. He’s looking up at you now, hair mussed up and eyes wary. “You good?”

“Yeah. You?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

What were you guys doing? At the end of the day, it’s you and him. Padme is out of the picture, and so is Clovis. Everything is alright, and that fuss you both put up throughout the night was virtually pointless.

Looking into his eyes, the ones you love so much and could never picture yourself ever parting from, suddenly this whole thing seems elementary. How terrible, disastrous, and ironic this night turned out. Replaying the events in your head, you find a smile begin to crack at your lips. Anakin can’t keep a straight face either, the ridiculousness of it all beginning to catch up with you both. You begin to laugh, and he follows, burying his head in your stomach as you hug around his neck.

“We must be back in training school,” you giggle, feeling his shoulders shake beneath you. “How pathetic of us.”

“Ahh,” he groans, suddenly wrenching you off your feet and onto the bed on top of him. He nuzzles his face into your neck, pulling you as close to him as possible. “Let’s just forget this night ever happened. It was dreadful and embarrassing.”

“As far as I’m concerned, I was never even here.”

“Me neither,” he presses a line of warm kisses down your neck, stopping at the strap of your dress. “Let’s get this off. Do you still have your blaster on you?”

You pat the metal strapped onto your thigh. “Locked and loaded.”

“Well, gee, thanks for telling me. I definitely didn’t want to get my head blown off.”

“Safety’s on, wisecrack,” you help him shrug your dress off, kicking it from your legs and off the end of the bed. You unclasp the band from around your thigh and distribute the blaster onto the nightstand.

“I’m the wisecrack,” you don’t miss the way Anakin’s voice deepens, attention suddenly captured by the bare skin of your body beneath him. His eyes follow the path his fingers are tracing up your leg. “Careful, or I’ll have to report that to the Council.”

“For what? Being right?”

“For creating conflict of interest on the job,” his fingers skim the soft flesh of your upper thighs, tickling their way past the curve of your hips, the dip of your waist, up and up and up… “It’s terribly naughty of you.”

His words are teasing and corny, but somehow the deeper insinuation of them still cause your cheeks to burn red.

“Anakin,” your voice is hoarse, causing your blush to deepen. His long fingers cup your chin, keeping your lips ghost over his as his other hand pulls the silver clasps from your hair. “I need a shower.”

“I can meet you in there?”

You clutch at his shoulders, bringing him forward to close that gap between your lips. His mouth is warm against yours, pliant and soft and generous. It’s everything you’ve been yearning for all night, all this time you’ve been apart. The smell of him, taste of him, feel of him— you could never get enough.

“I’ll save you a spot.”

#anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x fem reader #anakin angst #anakin fluff #anakin skywalker fic #jealous anakin #soft anakin #Anakin x fem reader smut #anakin fic

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pxnk-velvet · 3 years

Note

Can I request Shikamaru x fem reader, prompt list #1, prompt #25, nsfw please?

BE MINE

Shikamaru Nara x Fem!Reader

Prompt:

#25 - “We’re not just friends and you fucking know it.”

Word Count: 1.3k

Summary: After Y/n and Shikamaru were assigned a mission with one of the Sand shinobi. Even despite their arrangement, Y/n can’t help but find herself feeling some sort of way after seeing Shikamaru and Temari together.

Warnings: slight angst, very little nsfw at the end, light make out is all, not proof read

A/N: I kept it more angsty (sorry, hope you don’t mind!) bc that’s what the original prompt was lol but it does get a lil spicy towards the end. Here’s the link to the party’s masterlist!

Why was she angry? She knew exactly why. She also knew that she shouldn’t be feeling this way in the first place. It was all her fault, she let her feelings take reign of her judgement. Clouding over whenever she was with him.

The way Shikamaru Nara made her feel drove her insane.

It all started as a simple arrangement. To show up at the ungodly hours of the night and wake up the next morning in the same bed. Tangled limbs, skin to skin, a thin bed sheet barely providing any heat.

That’s exactly where she was headed right now. Fresh from a joint mission with the Sand. Y/n and Shikamaru had accompanied Temari on a simple mission.

Yet there was nothing simple about it. The whole time the tension was almost unbearable, suffocating. Like a hand around someone’s throat, slowly squeezing tighter and tighter by the second until all airways were crushed.

It hadn’t let up since. Now Y/n and Shikamaru were on their way to file in the mission report. A bubble of tension surrounding the two as they made their way through the village streets. Painfully obvious to those they passed on their way to the Hokage’s office.

All the while, Y/n’s mind was plagued with one simple sentence. When those words came from Temari’s mouth she didn’t know how to feel.

“It was nice to meet another one of your friends, Shikamaru.”

Y/n knew the girl didn’t mean any harm, this was all her own fault. For letting those words cling to her head like this. For being so caught up on them, repeating them over and over again in her head.

She was trying hard not to, yet here she was. Walking beside her “friend,” dawning a childish pout with her arms cross. And of course he noticed. Shikamaru wasn’t a stupid guy by any means.

They had remained in their tense state up until they left the Hokage’s office, mission report all set and turned in. That was the only thing settled between them.

Now with the sun tittering over the horizon, the sky washed in multiple warm colors, Shikamaru finally spoke up, hoping that Y/n would be a bit more composed.

“So, what’s your deal?” His voice rang out, low and smooth like always. His frame was still situated forward as they walked, his hands tucked into his pockets.

Y/n wanted nothing more than to yell in his face, give it to him straight no chaser. Make him understand exactly what she was thinking. But how could she do that without ruining what they had? She wanted to stay close with him, but somehow become even closer.

“We’re not just friends….” Her words laced with more poison than she intended, sharp on the edges, leaving a sting in Shikamaru’s chest, “And you fucking know it.”

The two of them stopped dead in their tracks, still facing forward. Daring the other to look first. Shikamaru’s eyes widening by the slightest bit, a spark of realization flashing behind them. Y/n wincing internally, certain that she had screwed herself over. A sinking feeling bubbling in her chest. Like before, the tension was almost unbearable. Yet, it was somehow different this time.

Unbearable, yes. With a hint of….relief?....wanting?...both? Who were they to tell. Neither of them could quite put a word to it. And that’s how they left it.

Y/n rushed off in the direction of her house, Shikamaru moving quick to call after her. Only to stop himself a moment after, thinking it was best to give her some time to think things over.

Like prefaced before, Shikamaru wasn’t stupid. He had known all along how Y/n had felt. Watched her slowly fall in love with him.

He welcomed every part of it, encouraging even, with subtle gestures. After a while of being part of the arrangement they had, he had realized how much he had grown accustomed to her. Catching himself, even, slowly falling for her. Starting to miss the warmth she provided whenever she was gone. The comforting touch to soothe whatever stress he was enduring.

So he figured he would wait for her. Let her come to him. But now he was second guessing himself. Kicking himself for not saying anything beforehand, reassuring her that what she was feeling wasn’t bad. That it wasn’t something she needed to feel ashamed of.

He waited, that’s what he did. He waited until the moon was hung high in the dark sky, air chilled with nightfall, to finally make his way over to her house. He made sure not to rush, taking his time, hoping Y/n was finally ok to talk. To finally confess and confirm what was going on between them.

When he approached her bedroom window, it was open by just a bit. Like it always was when he came over to spend the night with her. So he took it as a sign because if she truly did not want to see him, she would’ve shut it and drawn the curtains.

But no, the window was open, the curtains hanging in front of it moved fluidly with the breeze.

Everyday he was thankful for the fact that Y/n’s room was on the ground floor. Because everyone knew he was not going to put the work into climbing through a window most nights of the week.

A single knuckle rapped against the glass gently, catching the attention of the young kunoichi laying in her bed.

“Come in.” Y/n grumbled, not bothering to turn over and look at her counterpart.

Shikamaru was hesitant to completely climb through the window but still made his way over to sit next to her on the bed. The tension in the room was notably stagnant, a lot less suffocating than before. After a while of Shikamaru just sitting there and looking at Y/n’s frame laid next to him, he finally spoke up.

“Look….” He began, letting out a heavy sigh, preparing for what he was about to say next, “What you said earlier….you’re completely right.”

Y/n’s eyes widened, thinking back to that moment that she had been trying so hard to forget even though it had only happened hours before. Her mind raced as she sat up urgently, sitting on her knees to face him and look into his eyes.

“I should’ve said something sooner if I had known this was chewing you up on the inside.” Shikamaru explained, truth evident behind his eyes as he spoke.

“I should’ve known you would’ve noticed at this point.” Y/n admitted sheepishly, unable to hold any hard feelings towards him. Or anyone for that matter. It had all just been a simple misunderstanding.

“So with this thing going on between us?....Are we dating now?” He questioned genuinely. To which Y/n lunged forward, capturing his lips in a hurried kiss.

The intensity behind it alone could make anyone dizzy just by witnessing it. Fueled by previous longing and passion neither of them had shown even if they had been intimate multiple times beforehand.

Their skin grew warm the closer and longer they stayed in contact. Clothes soon being discarded and tossed mindlessly onto the floor. Limbs catching like they had so many times before, lips dancing a new rhythm. Completely different from before. It was more free and bursting with passion. Just like every touch and caress of their hands roaming each other.

Shikamaru’s calloused fingertips caressed Y/n’s waist, leaving chills in the wake of her soft skin. A hand sliding further south, making home on her hip and gripping the plush flesh. Guiding her pelvis to rock against his own. Arousal starting to ache in their abdomens.

Shikamaru’s back fell against the plush pillows at the head of Y/n’s bed as she situated herself over his lap, not even daring to break the kiss they held.

When they did, their breath was staggered as they looked into each other's eyes.

“Be mine, Shikamaru.” Her voice sweet like honey, as it rang out in the open air around them.

“Of course.” He mused, a smirk playing on his lips as he flipped her over onto the bed.

#pxnkvelvet’s party! 🥳#shikamaru imagine #shikamaru angst #shikamara nara #shikamaru x reader #shikamaru nara x reader #shikamaru x you #shikamaru x y/n #nara shikamaru #naruto requests #naruto x reader #naruto shikamaru

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pufflyhallows · 4 years

Text

Getaway

Gif not mine

Pairing: Fred Weasley x reader

Summary: Business is going bad after the war and Fred is not feeling so great, so you decide to cheer him up with a special trip.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, language, tiny tiny bit of angst, still fluffy tho

a/n: this is my FIRST smut EVER so... be nice? also, Fred fucking LIVES bc I’m in denial forever lol

Word count: 4,3k

********

You wanted to surprise Fred.

He had been feeling down lately. Ever since he and George reopened the shop after the war, things had been a little tough. The movement was still quite slow, given the fact that people were still recovering from the war, mourning their lost ones and starting new lives. It was a difficult time for everyone, and of course it affected Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes as well.

What ached your heart the most was the fact that there wasn’t much you could do to help him. Every day you watched as he took longer to get out of bed in the morning, how he sounded slower and quieter when talking to you and, the worst part, how he acted quite mechanic when doing his chores around the shop, the same ones he enjoyed so much in the past and had always gotten done with a bright smile on his face. And although he never stopped caring for you or being loving to you, the bedroom had become… inactive. And you missed it. You missed being intimate with your boyfriend, but every time you tried to initiate it, he would softly decline, claiming to be too tired. You believed it. You could see he was indeed exhausted. And not only physically, but mentally too. Perhaps the latter was actually the one weighing more.

George, however, was quite the opposite. He kept his optimism high and was always the first to wake up every morning, excited with the new day and new possibilities. He would often go out and promote the shop, talk to people and sometimes even manage to bring a customer in.

This big difference between them worried you. No, you did not expect the twins to act the same, but you hoped in secret that Fred would follow his brother’s steps and cheer up a bit.

Cheer up. Yeah. That was exactly what he needed. And what better way to cheer up someone than a surprise trip? That’s how you were going to take his mind off of work. With Hermione’s help, you planned a very romantic weekend trip out of town. You talked to George beforehand, of course, but he assured you he could take care of the shop by himself for two days. He agreed Fred needed this.

“It’s not like we’re getting many customers anyway,” he had said.

So, as Friday approached, you felt the excitement building up. You managed to act completely nonchalant around him, making sure he didn’t suspect a thing. It wasn’t a big, expensive hotel because you knew he would worry about money and that was the opposite of what you wanted for this trip. Hermione had helped you pick a small, comfy hotel that was quite charming and fit your pocket perfectly. You wanted to make sure Fred felt loved, cared for and relaxed. There was also a little extra surprise inside your suitcase that you really hoped he would like…

What you didn’t know was that Fred felt guilty. He reckoned he hadn’t been the boyfriend you deserved lately, but he couldn’t help it. The stress was almost eating him alive and his mind was always wandering back to the shop, worrying about its future. You had been so kind and patient with him, he knew you deserved better than that. The whole thing was snowballing and sometimes he couldn’t see it ending.

That Friday, when you got home from work, the shop was still open and there was actually a customer inside, talking with George. You felt relief wash over you, because you knew what that meant: Fred was probably in a good mood.

You walked straight to the flat, not daring to interrupt George, but you stopped in the middle of the stairs to watch. He was speaking with such enthusiasm, showing and explaining his products to the young boy, that it filled you with pride. You caught his eyes for a brief moment and noticed the smallest of smirks appear on his lips. Smiling back, you nodded at him. Fred was nowhere to be seen, though, so you went upstairs.

There was a delicious scent coming from the kitchen. The older twin was there, cooking. You smiled to yourself at the sight. His favorite The Weird Sisters record was playing somewhere in the flat, adding a familiar, comfortable feel to the whole scene. Fred’s back was facing you while he chopped… carrots? on the counter. He didn’t seem to notice your presence just yet, so you took advantage of that. Placing your bag on the nearest chair, you walked in quiet steps towards your boyfriend. The fresh mint aroma coming from him meant he had probably just showered. Oh, and how you missed showering with him.

You couldn’t refrain your smile from growing even bigger once you noticed Fred’s body was swinging from side to side, so imperceptibly that you almost missed it. Carefully, you wrapped your arms around him from behind, resting your cheek on his back. You felt him tense up for a mere second before realizing who it was. He soon relaxed, letting go of the knife and placing his clean hand on yours.

“Didn’t hear you coming in,” he stated, voice low and raspy.

You hummed in response and placed a soft kiss on the nape of his neck. Fred turned around and briefly met your lips with his.

“It’s gonna take a while. Why don’t you go take a bath?”

“I will,” you nodded, running your hand from his chest to his shoulder and squeezing it gently. “How was your day?”

He shrugged. “Okay.”

“Okay”, you repeated. “Well, I hope I can make it better. I have a surprise for you after dinner.”

“A surprise?”

“Yes. I have an idea of how we can spend your days off.”

“Hm… Making plans already, are we?”

“Very good plans, yes. But you’ll have to wait until dinner.”

“Or you could tell me right now so I won’t have to.”

“But where’s the fun in that?”

You smirked and gave him another peck on the lips before rushing off the kitchen and leaving your boyfriend to his curiosity and imagination.

The warm bath made you think about a lot of things and you came to realize you were very lucky. The war was over and there you were, taking a bath in your boyfriend’s flat, the person you loved the most in the world. So many people lost their loved ones, their homes, their entire lives in that war. You knew you had many reasons to feel happy and should not take them for granted. Life was good for you right now, and you acknowledged it, promising to yourself that you were going to enjoy it the best you could, with Fred by your side.

George joined the two of you for dinner, which turned out to be the best you had in months. Not because of the food, although it was perfect, but because it felt like everything was back to normal, like all the meals you had shared before the war. Maybe it was the idea of a day off and the mention of a surprise from you, but you could see that Fred was already less gloomy or aloof.

After the meal, as if sensing you wanted to reveal your plans to Fred, George excused himself to his bedroom, claiming he still had to finish some work. You wished him goodnight, not missing the discrete wink he gave you.

“So…” you started, watching as Fred emptied his glass of pumpkin juice. “Remember when I said I had an idea on how to spend your days off?”

“Oh, yes. The surprise.”

“Well… I figured you could use a little rest from everything, so I made a reservation at a very nice hotel for the two of us to spend the weekend at.”

“You what?” Fred asked, a small smile starting to grace his lips.

“The portkey is set for our departure at 10 a.m. tomorrow.”

“But-”

“Nope. No buts,” you shook your head. “I have already packed our bags.”

“Y/N, doll, I don’t know what to say.”

“Tell me I’m amazing, the best thing that ever happened to you, an angel sent from heaven… Something humble like that.”

Fred chuckled, that contagious sound you missed hearing so much. “You’re amazing. You are the best thing that ever happened to me, a true angel sent from heaven.”

“I know! We’re gonna have so much fun,” you smiled excitedly, clasping your hands together.

“What exactly are your plans for us, though?” your boyfriend questioned, curiosity dripping from his lips.

“Oh, you’ll find out once we’re there.”

“The surprise doesn’t end here, I see.”

“Exactly. I have everything planned, baby.”

The look in Fred’s eyes seemed to indicate he had an idea of what you had planned, but he did not say a word about it. He would like to see the surprise reveal itself in the right moment. He wasn’t going to spoil your plans in any way.

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

You always had your doubts when it came to ads, but this time you had to admit this was spot on. The hotel looked exactly like its pictures and descriptions.

“Mr. and Mrs. Weasley?” the receptionist asked as soon as you stepped in the lobby.

It was something so small, so simple, but it made your heart flutter and stomach fill with those restless butterflies. Mrs. Weasley. Were you ever going to become that? You wondered if Fred even noticed the little misunderstanding.

“Um,” you cleared your throat. “Actually, it’s just one Weasley. Fred Weasley. I’m Y/N Y/L/N.”

Your slight flustered manner didn’t go unnoticed by Fred. Despite the obvious nervousness, he thought it was rather cute. In fact, he liked to hear you be called that. Perhaps he should do something about it…

“Oh, I apologize. Mr. Weasley and Miss Y/L/N,” the receptionist corrected herself as she checked the reservation’s book. “You’re right on time, your room is ready for you. I just need your wands for ID confirmation before I give you your key.”

Both of you handed your wands to the young woman behind the desk and she did as she was supposed to. Sooner than you had anticipated, you were in the lovely suite you had reserved.

Fred placed the small handbag on the bed – blessed be the extension charm, that’s all you had to carry for that trip – and walked around the room curiously. You went straight for the big window and opened the curtains. There it was. The view you had seen on the ad and that had made you instantly choose this hotel.

“Fred,” you called softly, looking behind you. “Come see.”

Your boyfriend let go of the catalog on the nightstand and approached you, eyeing the outside in awe.

“Wow,” he breathed. “It’s beautiful.”

“Isn’t it?”

When making the reservation, you were met with the question: would you like a room with view to the street/village or to the beach? And you chose the beach, although the village was a lovely sight. Now, seeing Fred’s reaction, you were absolutely sure you had made the right choice.

The hotel was in a small village where both wizards and muggles lived. With a little help from magic, the wizards could go unnoticed and the muggles lived everyday life without a single clue of the existence of such peculiar neighbors. The beach was right behind the village, and your room being in the back of the hotel, you had a wonderful privileged view of nature’s beauty.

“Wanna go down there?” you asked.

“What’s in your plans?” he asked back, switching his gaze from the window to you.

“Beach,” you replied with a small smile. “Basically the entire day at the beach, lunch at a muggle restaurant down there too. But dinner here.”

“I’ll follow your script, doll.”

Fred placed his hand on your waist and pulled you closer, pressing his lips ever so gently on yours. You instantly let go of the curtains so you could run your fingers through his soft hair. The light fabric fell back to its place, covering the windows again and leaving the room a little darker than before. Fred’s gentle kiss wasn’t so gentle anymore.

No, not yet.

You broke the kiss and pulled back, biting your lip as you started to feel that you might not be able to wait until the right time for your surprise.

“I’m starving,” you whispered against his lips.

“Me too,” he pulled you closer again.

“Let’s go, then.” You managed to get out of his embrace and grab the handbag before heading to the bathroom to change into your bathing suit.

A hungry Fred was left standing by the big window.

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

It had been hard.

It had been hard seeing you in so little clothing, dripping wet, skin glistening as droplets of water reflected the sunlight. But Fred managed.

All he had in his mind every time he saw you leaving the water was how he wanted to take you then and there. He had to distract himself from those thoughts, paying attention to what you were saying but not too much to your moving lips. He knew you had something planned and he was appreciative of how much effort you had put in this weekend for him. That was the only reason he wasn’t indulging to his not-so-pure thoughts.

Lunch was a good distraction too, specially since you had to convince a muggle child she had imagined it when she saw Fred stop his falling fork mid-air.

Now, as the two of you walked hand in hand back to the hotel, he wondered if he was going to be rewarded for the self-control test he had just passed. You were humming a song as you observed the houses, trying to guess which ones were muggles and which ones were wizards.

“What’s next?” he asked.

“Dinner!” you answered excitedly. “But, if I were you, I wouldn’t go overboard.”

“Why, if I may ask?” but Fred already suspected why.

“Well… there might be plans for after dinner as well.”

Fred held your hand tighter and pulled you towards the hotel in a faster pace. You chuckled, feeling the excitement grow bigger and bigger.

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

“Dessert?” the waiter asked as he took the empty plates from your table.

“No, thank you,” Fred replied before you had the chance. “We’re calling it a night, aren’t we, sweetheart?”

“Actually,” you smirked at your boyfriend before looking at the waiter. “I’d like chocolate pudding, please.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

As soon as the waiter left, Fred gave you a look.

“What?” you asked nonchalantly.

“I thought you said we wouldn’t go overboard.”

“I’m not going overboard. I had a small plate,” you shrugged.

“Right,” Fred sighed, bouncing his leg under the table.

When your chocolate pudding came, you grabbed the spoon and took a small amount to your mouth. Fred watched your every move, arms crossed and brows slightly furrowed as he saw you slowly lick the spoon. You pretended you didn’t know he was watching, eyes on the tiny bowl in front of you, and you mouthed another spoon, unintentionally getting pudding all over your lips.

Your boyfriend gulped as he watched you run your thumb over your lower lip, getting rid of the chocolate there, and gently suck on it.

“For fuck’s sake, Y/N,” he mumbled.

“Hm?” you looked at him innocently.

“Just eat the damn thing.”

“You want some?” you raised the spoon at him.

“Yes, I want some.”

You felt your cheeks burn just a little bit with his remark, heart begin to race as the ideas for what you wanted to do to him tonight started to flood your mind.

“If you wait patiently, you might get what you want,” you teased, looking back at the bowl and already serving another spoon, which you quickly brought to your lips, licking all the content off of it.

Fred shook his head, one corner of his lips going upwards ever so slightly, eyes glued on you.

“You sure you don’t want to taste it?” you offered again, lips glistening as you cleaned them with your tongue.

“I will taste it,” his eyes pierced through your body and suddenly the hotel was too hot.

You had barely served the last spoon of pudding when Fred stood up and let the waiter know you were headed to the room.

“I haven’t finished yet,” you protested and he immediately took the last spoon from your hand and into his mouth.

“Now you have,” he said as he pulled you from the chair.

The way back to the suite felt much longer than it actually was, but as soon as you reached the door, Fred’s lips were on yours. You had trouble to get the key with your boyfriend’s hands all over you, pulling your body hard against his.

“Fred,” you breathed, stepping back. “There’s another surprise.”

Before he could say anything, you unlocked the door and went inside.

“Sit down,” you slowly pushed him to the bed. “And close your eyes.”

Fred complied with no protests, but you could see he was getting flustered, probably guessing what was coming.

You blew out most of the candles illuminating the room and left only a few to create the romantic atmosphere you wanted. You went to the bathroom and changed into the expensive lacy lingerie you had bought for this exact occasion. It was red, a color you had learned Fred was very fond of when it came to this kind of clothing, and had one small, delicate bow right between your breasts.

“Are your eyes closed?” you asked from the bathroom, hand on the doorknob.

“Yeah,” you heard in response.

“No peeking ‘til I tell you to,” you warned.

“…‘kay.”

You opened the door and stepped out of the bathroom. Fred was still sitting on the bed, one leg bouncing impatiently, and a slight frown between his eyebrows.

Slowly, you approached the bed and stood right in front of him.

“Open your eyes,” you whispered.

As soon as he did, Fred sucked in a shaky, quiet breath. He eyed you from head to toe, not hiding his astonishment.

“Baby,” he mumbled in a deep voice, already feeling his pants get a little too tight as his eyes still traveled through your entire figure.

“Do you like it?” you asked.

“Mm-hmm,” he nodded, biting his bottom lip.

“Good,” you smiled, placing your hands on each of his shoulders. “Now let me show you how proud I am to be your girlfriend.”

Your lips met Fred’s in a slow, deep kiss as you climbed the bed and straddled him, your arms thrown around his neck. Fred let out a soft moan when he felt your weight against his lap, his hands going up your back, fingertips sending shivers down your spine as they searched for the bra clasp. However, you stopped them and placed them back on your hips.

“Not so fast,” you whispered against his lips.

Before he could protest, you kissed him again, now pushing him all the way back to lay down on the bed. Hovering above him, you started pulling up his shirt, which he quickly got rid of for you. You chuckled. Maybe you weren’t the only one who had missed this.

Now that you had free access to his torso, you began to place soft, wet kisses on his neck, slowly moving down to his chest and stomach, painfully taking your time.

You could feel Fred’s breathing get deeper and deeper as you kissed his abs, working your way down to his pants. Once there, you stopped the kisses for a brief moment, so you could focus on getting rid of that piece of fabric. Again, Fred quickly helped you out until you were both just in your underwear.

The sight sent goosebumps through your body and you inevitably bit your lower lip. He was already so hard, you felt the anticipation building up inside you.

You decided to torture him for a little bit – just a little bit – and carried on with the kisses, not taking off his underwear quite yet. However, Fred’s impatience was growing and he didn’t think he would manage to wait for too long. His hand found your hair and he started stroking it, running his fingers through it, a disguised way to guide your head to where he needed you the most. You realized his intentions, but you did not stop him. You let him take you where he wanted and soon your lips found his still covered length.

“Shit, Y/N.”

You smirked.

Slowly, you started pulling down the last piece of clothing until you completely freed him. He was so beautiful. You still had a silly smile on your face as you ran your tongue all the way up from the base to the tip, where you placed a gentle kiss. Fred’s soft moan reached your ears, a beautiful sound that made you even more wet.

You took him in your mouth and started sucking the tip in a slow, teasing pace, while your hand loosely stroked him. You didn’t want him to cum yet. You wanted him to last. And you were going to make him last.

Fred’s hand never left your hair, and he began to slightly pull it, asking for more. He needed more.

“Y/N,” he moaned. “Y/N, please.”

You ignored him and kept going in that insanely slow pace, taking your time. What was the hurry?

You heard a low groan, and felt him move his hips against you. You stopped.

“Behave yourself, Weasley.”

“Baby… Please.”

You smirked again, giving him one last stroke, and you let go of him.

Fred looked at you in a way you hadn’t seen in a while. His eyes were dark, full of pure lust. But also desperation and discontent with the sudden lack of touch.

You crawled on the bed until your face was right above his, and you kissed him. It was a deep, passionate, hurried kiss between two people who were eager for each other. This time, you didn’t stop Fred’s hands from going up your back and unclasping your bra. He took it off and you quickly felt his left hand on your right breast, squeezing it. His right hand, however, was going up and down your side, sending shivers through your bare skin. He rested it on your waist for a little bit before going down to your ass and squeezing it tightly. You moaned against his lips, your own impatience growing.

You only stopped the kiss to get rid of your panties, the last piece of fabric separating you from him.

Fred watched as you got off of him and started to pull it down your smooth legs. He could feel his cock throbbing at the sight of your completely naked body. You were breathtakingly, heart-racingly beautiful. He loved the lingerie, he really did, but he loved your body a thousand times more. And he would never get tired of looking at it.

When you straddled him again, skin to skin now, he thought he would cum right then and there. You smiled at him, that beautiful smile that never changed, and kissed him one more time. Fred placed his hands on your waist, squeezing it gently, as if to encourage you. Not wasting another second, you guided his tip to your entrance and slowly sank down on him, allowing him to get all the way inside you, quite easily given how wet you were.

“Oh fuck, baby,” he moaned.

Letting out your own whimpers, you placed your hands on his chest and started riding him, still slowly, still teasingly. Fred’s moans soon turned into groans, complaints. He was getting tired of the teasing, he was already on edge. He couldn’t take it anymore. With a swift move, Fred shifted the both of you so now he was on top. He started thrusting into you, quite roughly, earning a loud approving moan from you.

“Fred,” you gasped, digging your nails into his shoulders.

He kept going, pounding harder and harder, moaning as he did so.

You started kissing his neck, biting, sucking, anything that would leave a mark.

“Yes, baby,” you cried out as he thrusted even deeper.

The bed was making a discreet creaking sound that you weren’t sure if the people in the other rooms could hear. You hoped not, but honestly? Right now you didn’t care. The sound of Fred’s heavy breaths, moans, groans and whimpers were all you were paying attention to. Beautiful sounds that had the power to shut down anything else in your mind.

The rhythm he had created was sending you to heaven with every motion. His lips soon found your own again and he kissed you as if he hadn’t done it just minutes before.

“Fuck, Y/N. I’m close.”

“Me too.”

As you felt your body tense, Fred came inside you with a low groan, slowing down just a tad bit. He kept thrusting, however, knowing you were about to reach your climax too. And not long after him, you felt a wave of pleasure wash over you, and your body relaxed completely.

Both of you were panting against each other’s neck, your arms still loosely around his shoulders as he slowly pulled out and collapsed on top of you.

Hugging him more tightly, you felt Fred leave small kisses on your neck, and you closed your eyes, enjoying the extra-tingly sensation. You started to run your fingernails up and down his back, the other hand caressing his hair.

If you concentrated hard enough, you could hear the waves crashing on the beach, the giggling of children playing down there, and the muffled music coming from the muggle restaurant. You felt so at ease.

After a long moment of peaceful, comforting silence, Fred looked up and smiled. “I love you so much.”

You smiled back. “I love you too.”

Not bad for round one.

********

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley smut #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley fic #harry potter fanfic #harry potter imagine #hogwarts #gryffindor #slytherin #ravenclaw #hufflepuff #random tag

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plaidbooks · 3 years

Note

I saw something on Pinterest that Tinkerbell said: "If you have to choose between me and her, choose her. Because if you really loved me, there wouldn't be any other choice." I was wondering if reader could say that to barba bc he was choosing between her or yelina?

Too High of a Price

A/N: This fic takes place just after Rafael and reader graduate Harvard (so, they’re in their early/mid 20s). This is also an angst with no happy ending. But! I can be convinced to write a part 2 with a happier ending. I...may have thought about it already. Anyways, enjoy.

Tags: angst, fighting about expenses, cheating

Words: 1237

Taglist: @witches-unruly-heart @beccabarba @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @stardust-fray @permanentlydizzy @infiniteoddball @ben-c-group-therapy @glowingmess @whimsicallymad @lv7867 @storiesofsvu @cycat4077 @shroomiehomie @glimmerglittergirl @alwaysachorusgirl @joanofarkansass @redlipstickandplaid @detective-giggles @prurientpuddlejumper @averyhotchner @mrsrafaelbarba @madamsnape921 @dianilaws @crowleysqueenofhell @dreamlover31

You had thought that cramming for Finals, preparing for the JD, and prepping for the bar put a serious strain on yours and Rafael’s relationship. And once you both passed, you were hoping that you could both move in together—start your lives. That everything would calm down. But oh, how wrong you were.

“Raf, what’s this charge for $1400?” you asked, furious.

He glanced at you. “I bought a new suit, since now I’m in the DA’s office in Brooklyn—”

“We don’t have the funds for that! We’re barely able to afford our apartment!”

“It was a necessary purchase! I have to dress for the job!”

You rolled your eyes. “You have three suits! We need to save—” “I know, okay! I know!” he roared back. You both stood, glaring at each other. Finally, Rafael sighed. “I’m sorry; I don’t mean to yell. Let’s just…. It’s late; let’s go to bed.”

“I-I can’t see you right now, Raf. I’m sleeping on the couch,” you replied, already exhausted. This wasn’t the first fight about money, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. After Harvard, you both found a cheap apartment. And while Rafael had found a job with the DA’s office, you were having a much harder time. Plus, the fact that he had struggled too; this DA’s job was a godsend.

“Fine, okay. I have work tomorrow morning; can we talk afterwards? Please?” he muttered, looking as tired as you felt.

“Yeah. Sure.” At this point, you just wanted to get to sleep. Rafael nodded, heading towards the bedroom. You grabbed the extra blanket you kept in the hall closet and made yourself comfortable on the couch. But you couldn’t sleep, the fight still fresh in your mind. So instead, you thought about your relationship with Rafael.

You had met in your second year at Harvard, both of you falling hard for each other. You had been in the honeymoon phase for so long, only snapping at each other when you were stressed with schoolwork. But you loved him deeply, and he loved you, too.

Ever since you started living together, though—outside of your separate dorm rooms and actually together—it seemed like nonstop fighting. Sure, you still loved each other, but with money being tight, and job hunting failing, your relationship was filled with stress and screaming. It didn’t help that Rafael still talked to his ex-girlfriend, Yelina. She had dumped him for his best friend about a year before he met you, and a small part of you thought that you were a rebound.

Rafael would take long breaks from talking to her—in fact, he never reached out. It was always Yelina that got into contact with him. But if her name flashed on his phone with an incoming call, he would always take it. And asking him about it just led to more fighting. Truth be told, you missed the “easy” days in college, back when you and Rafael were so enchanted with each other. Nowadays, you hardly touched each other outside of a quick peck goodbye, or cuddling in bed while you slept.

********************

You woke up when you heard Rafael moving around the apartment, but you pretended to sleep through it. You could tell he was trying to keep quiet, his footsteps soft. You didn’t want to talk to him yet, though—you were still mad about him buying a new suit, especially without discussing it with you first. If he had been hiding that from you, what else could he be hiding?

The front door opened and closed, the lock turning from the outside. You waited for the footsteps to disappear down the hall before you sat up. You headed for the shower, letting the hot water run over you. And then, you hit the web, trying to find anyone hiring Harvard grads.

After sending off a few applications, you sat back, thinking about Rafael. Were you really mad at him for buying the suit? Or were you upset that he felt the need to hide it from you? Not discussing it with you beforehand. And was it really that big of a deal?

Sighing and feeling guilty, you decided to make and bring Rafael lunch—an olive branch. You didn’t plan on hashing things out at his work, but you thought it’d be nice to eat lunch together, to show him you weren’t mad anymore.

********************

You showed up to the DA’s offices, a paper bag in hand. You hadn’t texted him beforehand, hoping to surprise Rafael. But his cubicle was empty. Leaving the bag on his desk, you asked the paralegal that sat next to him if she had seen him.

“Oh, Rafael? He went to the bathroom. Down that hall and to the left,” she replied happily. You thanked her and headed off in the direction she indicated. The bathroom was a single toilet, and the door was locked.

You were debating if you should knock or not when you heard a noise from inside. You froze; it sounded suspiciously like…. Placing your ear against the door, you heard it again, and this time, you knew exactly what it was. A muffled moan, and a shushing.

You knocked on the door, face burning. Don’t be Rafael, don’t be Rafael, you thought over and over again. There was silence from within, then a shuffling of clothes. Time seemed to slow as you waited. The heavy lock turned, then the door handle.

A very red-faced Rafael stood in the doorway, his hair mussed and his tie slightly crooked. Your heart stopped when his eyes locked to yours, filled with shame and remorse.

“Wh-what are you doing here?” he asked softly, eyes dropping to look at the floor.

“Who’s in there with you?”

He seemed to shrink in on himself. “N-no one—”

You pushed him out of your way and stuck your head in the bathroom. Yelina stood there, not looking in the least upset about being caught with your boyfriend. Her hair was a mess, and her dress was still hiked up on her hips.

“Oh,” you breathed, pulling your head back out of the bathroom. You wanted to rage, you wanted to rip Rafael apart. But instead, you felt nothing. A hollowness deep in your chest.

You turned to walk away, your mind shutting off, your body on autopilot. “Cariño, wait,” Rafael said, reaching out for you.

“I’m…going to my parent’s place. Don’t try and come over,” you mumbled. “I’ll come pick up my stuff later.”

He called your name, but you didn’t hear it. “Please! I-I made a mistake! Please can we talk about this?”

“If you have to choose between me and her, choose her. Because if you really loved me, there wouldn’t be any other choice,” you said, turning back to look at him. “Besides, it’s obvious that you choose her.”

Rafael had no response as you turned and left the building. Yelina came up behind him, kissing his cheek, and telling him that Alex was out of town, if Rafael wanted to stop by that night to finish what they started. But he didn’t hear her; all he heard was the sound of his relationship dying.

Shrugging Yelina off, he went back to his desk, ignoring the stares he received from his coworkers. But the tears started the moment he saw the paper bag, opening it to find a homemade lunch.

#rafael barba x reader #law and order svu #law and order svu fanfic #fanfic #my writing #I know I've said I can't picture Rafael cheating #but I have a whole other backstory for this fic #including Raf's pov #Anonymous

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ahkaahshi · 4 years

Text

lil things that bring them joy + lil things that annoy the crap outta them [hcs]

characters: sakusa kiyoomi, kuroo tetsurou, iwaizumi hajime

genre: fluff

warning(s): one suggestive comment. what would my work be without one?

notes: I promise I do work for other characters aside from sakusa on this blog but I can’t contain my desire to write him and I'm not sorry. so here he is. again!

lil things that bring him joy

crawling into a freshly made bed. just loves how crisp the sheets feel n the smell of fresh linens. makes him feel very safe.

getting all his laundry done + his clothes folded. loves putting everything in its designated place all neat and tidy.

coming home to a clean house. if you clean just for him before he comes home from traveling for a game, he’s another step closer to getting on his knee. (it’s only fair considering how many times you’ve probs gotten on yours for him... just sayin)

symmetry and congruence. loves when things line up, whether it’s furniture in the house fitting perfectly in corners/the center of the walls or slices of cake being evenly shaped and cut with precision

having the exact change needed. or, better: when the total comes out to a whole number.

not having the seat next to him on the bus/train/bench taken. if anyone sits next to him when there’s open seats elsewhere, he’s movin 🏃🏻‍♂️

finding a brand new bottle of hand sanitizer that he forgot he had (#just omi things)

lil things that annoy the crap outta him

the sound of someone chewing with their mouth open! it’s taking all his strength not to stab them with his chopsticks!!

realizing that his water bottle’s empty n there’s no place nearby to refill it. where’s his brita when he needs it??

random messes in the house. clutter is okay, but having stuff just lying around, totally out of place drives him a lil nuts. don’t let the dishes pile up in the sink or else he’s coming for you with the dish gloves and soap!!

people who stand too close to him in line! will glare at them until they step off!

when his clothing gets wet/stained. he’s in the laundry room with that arm and hammer cranking out whatever spilled on him asap

when the clocks in the house aren’t set to the same time. is the type of person who says “it’s 11:28″ instead of rounding up to 11:30.

unfinished conversations. don't leave him on read in the middle of one over text, even if you’re mad; it’ll drive him nuts. if you’re busy, tell him that beforehand and say you will continue the convo when you’re free to give him peace of mind!

lil things that bring him joy

seeing animal couples hangin out together/bein cute/playing. reminds him that love isn’t dead n makes him think of you.

weighted blankets. makes him feel like he’s bein hugged. will only sleep under a weighted blanket when you’re away 🥺

the smell of freshly baked cookies. makes him feel nostalgic.

when the train arrives right when he gets to the platform

when the last line of his problem/formula ends right on the last line of the page. he hates having empty lines at the bottom of a page bc he feels guilty for not using them but he also doesn’t wanna flip back n forth to check his work!!

seeing his friends succeed at something, no matter how small! a supportive king!

listening to you talk about something that makes you so happy that he can see your eyes practically sparkling

lil things that annoy the crap outta him

getting tailgated on the freeway! if the dude driving behind him is so close kuroo can practically see the pimple on his chin in his rearview mirror, he’s getting heated. esp if he’s not even in the fast lane.

when rain wasn’t forecasted and it rains. and he didn’t bring an umbrella. and he steps in a puddle.

getting aggressively barked at by dogs (inuoka?) when he walks down the sidewalk, past people’s houses. he didn’t do anything! leave him alone!

shoes that are just that little bit too small and slightly crush his tootsies but are also too big on him when he tries going up a size

when people bump into him and don’t apologize/acknowledge that it happened. own up to it!

pilling on the inside of his favorite sweaters (pilling is when fibers become separated thru washing and bunch up at the surface, causing those uncomfortable, unsightly, little "pills” on fabric)

getting a pebble/piece of gravel stuck in the bottom of his sneakers that he literally has to pry out bc it doesn’t come out on its own when he does a lil stomp 😤

lil things that bring him joy

lil love notes/texts from you. he loves seeing your handwriting/face at the top of his messages :)

catching a sunset at its most vibrant moment. it’s a simple thing, but it reminds him to slow down and take a breath.

when someone else’s dog strains against its leash bc it wants to visit him for a pet. he will pet!

finding what he needs in his backpack without having to do any digging around. loves being organized!

getting in that really good stretch after a long day of work/class/training. buy a matching foam roller and roll out with him!

bumping into an old friend/teammate/classmate out of the blue.

seeing that his actions, in some way, have positively affected another person, no matter who they are. ex: seeing a mom struggling to handle her kid/s and her groceries breathe out a sigh of relief when he offers to help carry her stuff to her car. brb on my way to buy a ring

lil things that annoy the crap outta him

when the walk sign turns red before he’s even halfway across the street. the pressure he feels to run the rest of the way is intense.

buying a new brand of product to save money and finding out it’s not as good as what he usually gets.

waking up in the morning to find his phone didn’t charge at all. that’s when he knows the day is gonna suck.

not being able to find something that he remembers telling himself to move bc he knew he would forget where it was

burning his mouth on a hot drink and having that scratchy sensation on his tongue for the rest of the day

being called iwa-chan by literally anyone other than oikawa. barely tolerates it from him anyway. is fuming (internally) if oikawa’s fangirls refer to him by that name.

having to make a struggle meal bc he forgot to get groceries n he’s too burnt out to go to the store, or it’s closed

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markberries · 4 years

Text

n e v e r e n o u g h┊draco malfoy

anon requested: hi!! can i request an angst/? imagine where slytherin!reader and draco have always been friends and are part of the same group (blaise, pansy, etc) and reader is in love with draco and is always there for him, but draco does not value her or the things that she does and had done for him, and he actually thinks she’s kinda annoying??? idk if this makes sense :(

info: you always did everything for draco, it’s unfortunate that he never realized how important you were to his life until you were gone.

warnings: cursing

genre: angst

word count: 1.3k+

a/n: hiiii everyone ♥ send me cedric reqs because i just watched tenet and robert pattison was so FINE i cannot.. also this was quite short bc there wasn’t much to go off of,, but enjoy!!

people always said that everything you did for draco was crazy, because it was so obvious that he didn’t care. you never listened, draco was one of your best friends. you knew each other since you were in diapers, and your families were quite close.

of course, you had been pining for draco for months now, you never acted on it, in fear of ruining the “friendship” you two had. you were friends with quite a lot of people within your house, you were a very sociable person and being a slytherin didn’t stop you from talking to people in other houses.

most of the slytherins looked down upon your positive attitude, but you didn’t mind.

the clock on the far wall of your history of magic classes ticked loudly, echoing through the silent room. your fingers grazed your notebook sitting on your desk as you watched others around the room complete their written test. people’s pencils danced across their papers, you could hear the sighs of students who failed to study beforehand.

you felt someone nudge your shoulder, whispering a “pst”. you turned your head to look at draco, who was obviously stressed, his pleading face basically begging you to help him, as you were the smartest and quickest person to finish the test.

you weren’t surprised, of course. you assisted draco with all his problems, whether they be small or large. you never expected anything back — that’s what made you easy to be taken advantage of.

draco knew of this, and he knew that you were clueless to his actions. yes, you may have been childhood friends, but draco didn’t care. he didn’t care if he ended up breaking your heart, he didn’t care to lose you as a “friend” (as you call it), and he couldn’t think of a valid reason that could make him care.

“i didn’t study for this test,” he whispers to you, you hold back a grin. in your point of view, this was an opportunity to assist malfoy and to gain admiration from him, but everyone else knew damn well that he was using you.

“okay,” you say in a small voice slightly pushing your paper towards him. he smirks, eyes switching back and forth from his paper to your own, quickly writing down answers. blaise, sitting to your right, gives draco a disappointed look. in response, draco is quick to stick his tongue out and continue to finish his test.

—

“why do you keep doing that?” blaise pulls draco aside after the test, but made sure to let you walk off before scolding him. chatter erupted around them, the sound of pansy’s familiar voice ranting about something to you getting farther away.

draco scrunches his eyebrows, gathering his items and placing them in his book bag. “doing what?”

“you know exactly what you’re doing, malfoy,” blaise tells him. draco felt like he was being lectured by his mother, something he also did not like. draco’s foot taps against the hardwood floor, a slight echo following it. he was irritated — it’s not like it was his fault that you liked him.

“what? she likes to help me, anyway. i don’t see a problem here. what are you gonna do about it? tell her? like she’ll believe you.”

draco was blaise’s friend, if that’s what you can even call it. being close with him didn’t mean that draco didn’t know how to push his buttons though. blaise thought for a moment, wondering if he should tell you after all. how would you handle it? would you be in shock? stay silent — afraid to speak, maybe. or maybe you would cry, sob like someone had died. you were a big crier, after all. maybe you wouldn’t believe blaise, maybe you were so obsessed with malfoy that you’d completely disregard anything blaise said.

so he decided to stay silent.

both draco and blaise began walking to the great hall, an awkward aura sitting in the cool air. you sat patiently, waiting for the two, but listening to pansy talk about her boy problems at the same time.

you wanted to tell draco how you felt, you were tired of hiding it. you hated the feeling of holding in the urge to explode and hug him when you saw him, you were confident that this was the right choice.

“go away,” draco’s voice yelled out, followed by a sniffle. you poked your head around the hallway corner, seeing draco with puffy eyes and a frown upon his face. your heart swelled, all you wanted to do was help him.

“draco? are you okay?” you said to him, walking over slowly.

“i said leave.”

“you know i can’t just leave you here, can’t you just tell me why you’re acting like this?”

draco goes quiet for a second, thinking. finally, he turns around with a nod.

you remembered that day ever so clearly, draco had been having trouble at home, disappointing but expected. draco opened up to you that day, pouring out his feelings, but walking away as if nothing had happened after that.

that was the first time he hugged you, arms wrapping around your waist tightly, a quiet sob into your shoulder. you wiped his tears that day, telling him everything would work out in the end.

your face lights up when you see him and blaise walk through the door, the same scowl on his face as always, blaise with a slight smile. they walk over to you, pansy, crabbe, and goyle.

this is it.

telling someone you’re in love with them shouldn’t be that hard, right? guys had done it to you before. they didn’t seem upset when you politely said no, they respected your choice (most of the time).

draco rejects you, that would be the worst outcome. confessing shouldn’t be hard, but it felt hard. the feeling of dread creeping up on you as you stood up, taking steps towards the two boys.

adrenaline pumping through you, anxious thoughts filling your head while you begged your feet to sit back down, yet your heart pushed them further, speaking for you when you asked, “draco? can i talk to you?”

walking with him outside of the great hall is what stressed you out more, steps away from spilling out your thoughts of admiration about him. did he already know? what could happen? does he have a girlfriend that i don’t know about?

soon enough, you were merely feet apart from each other, eyes locked onto one another. you tried to speak, opening your mouth, but no sound came out. you were scared.

draco’s piercing eyes were getting impatient, he wanted you to spit it out already, and soon enough, you did.

“i like you.”

he stays unfazed, careless, and still staring at you. you expected him to say something, anything. he chuckles, running a hand through this hair.

“do you think i’m mental? i already knew.”

your heart stops for a moment, you’re unsure of how to reply, and the only thing you could focus on was the ringing in your head, bouncing from ear to ear.

“you’re just so.. irritating. could you not cling to me, for like 5 seconds? i can’t do this, seriously. i thought you saw already, but clearly you’re as oblivious as everyone thought you were. i don’t like you, y/n. for god’s sake, just leave me be. stop hanging around my friends. they don’t like you either.”

as stated before, you were a big crier. you knew that your eyes were probably red already, tears running down your face. it had taken you a minute to process it as you stood still, no one in the hallway except for you two.

how had i not seen this coming?

your hands stayed by your sides, gripping at the fabric on your skirt, knuckles turning white. you thought draco was your best friend.

“you’re such an asshole. i’ve done so much for you, i’m your shoulder to cry on. i help you out on all your tests, assist with your projects, hell — i deal with your family problems. i listen to you, i listen to whatever you say, and i don’t think i’ve ever heard a “thanks” from you, once! so you know what? enjoy your life without me. i ‘m sure it’ll be fantastic.”

and with that, you walked away, a fresh feeling of hurt lingering in your heart, and a stinging sense of regret in malfoy’s.

#draco #draco malfoy #draco imagine #draco malfoy imagine #draco angst #draco malfoy angst #harry potter

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vanveronicango · 4 years

Note

if you don't mind me asking, what aspects of s2 did you dislike? bc for me, although i liked it a lot better than s1 (mainly for the increased focus on sibling dynamic scenes). i also kind of realized that it had kind of a Lot going on, that although i appreciated, didn't get enough equal attention? idk

i agree that the dynamic scenes this season were pretty great. we got some great interactions between characters that didn’t have much last season (personal fave being klaus/allison/vanya and every individual combo in that trio).

i personally love reading other peoples’ opinions on shows/movies, even if they don’t match my own, because a lot of the time they open my eyes to some stuff i haven’t seen, and i love to see work affecting others the same way it does me, even if it has a different outcome.

so, i know i said i wouldn’t, but since you asked, under the cut i’m going list out some of the stuff i wasn’t a huge fan of, and some of the stuff i really liked.

(edit warning: this shit is LONG. but please don’t take this as me absolutely hating the season - I didn’t. there was some genuinely enjoyable stuff. but, in my opinion, it didn’t have the spark and intent that s1 did. it wasn’t the caliber of the season i fell in love with. i think it’s still rewatchable though, unlike a certain godawful season of a certain hit netflix show...... coughstrangerthings3cough)

WHAT I DIDN’T LIKE

1. not enough characterization/development in most of the characters (this will be the longest point, so I’ll get it out of the way first) - for one, the siblings - save maybe vanya & allison - really... did not develop much this season, and weren’t explored as heavily as in the first season. hell, even in vanya and allison’s cases, i still think s1 did a better job at delving into their characters and psyche, even though they still had a bit of it in s2. but especially in the other siblings cases, i feel like SO MUCH of this season leaned into trivial things the fans liked, that it either (at least) took time away from or (at worst) was an active detriment to the characters’ development and plots. they said oh you like banter? we’ll give you unnecessary arguing and jokes that go on for 20 minutes too long when we could be delving deeper into these interesting situations we saw on the surface. here’s some fart jokes and forgettable music when we could be seeing more of how these characters are coping with the literal end of the world/being sent back in time/facing the prospect of never seeing their families again.

in s1, we got luther’s immense internal struggles in living up to his “name” and only existing to please his father... diego finding his relationships through his jaded nature towards his siblings and himself, and grappling with feelings of inferiority... allison’s coping with the effects her powers have had on her life, and trying to become someone without rumoring everything into existence, which is a new feeling altogether that she isn’t quite sure how to cope with... klaus going through intense development as a simultaneously self-obsessed and self-destructive drug addict that gets thrown into a gruesome war for a year, only to watch the person he loves most die, grappling with his ptsd from war & his abusive childhood, and discovering new powers... five coming back home after decades of solitude and then being used as a weapon, trying to reestablish himself within the group while dealing with an eating feeling that he doesn’t belong in his body or in this group.... vanya, oh vanya, with her depression, anxiety, feelings of loneliness and betrayal, feeling invisible and utterly ordinary, gripping to whoever makes her feel special (and dealing with that fallout) before suddenly being slammed with unbelievably powerful abilities that she can’t control.

in s2... yes, we get lesbian!vanya who becomes truer to herself, and - through intense struggle - finds a way to harness her abilities so she isn’t so out of control and can finally feel extraordinary herself. but much of the latter was given up for a vast majority of the season bc she literally didn’t know who she was (there was a positive in that though, which i’ll list in my positives list), and so we lost a LOT of potential coping and learning time, which easily could have mingled with her sissy storyline! allison’s storyline i actually dug, i don’t have too much gripe with it except that i wish her throat injury didn’t just kind of magically heal, and they could’ve addressed it more. the end of ben’s story was interesting, but still lacked depth imo. as for the other siblings.... it all just felt like a TON of jokes that were funny at first, but quickly became stale and had me wishing they would take the story a bit deeper. that said, a lot of the gags, jokes, and quips were great, but they could’ve been incorporated WAY more intelligently, and allowed for characterization at the same time. loads and loads of banter, not being balanced with poignancy like s1 did very well.

we could have seen luther’s descent into the criminal underworld, and why he felt the draw and obligation to go that route. a more detailed look at klaus’ beginnings and relationship with the cult, his motivations (which s2 kept super shallow), more of diego’s life inside the asylum and even beforehand. but no, we got five and old five farting.

2. the music - man, the s1 soundtrack was iconic, was it not? effortlessly cool scene/music combos, countless iconic music moments, brilliantly and thoughtfully done. this season felt like they said “music? oh ok throw music EVERYWHERE” and it was just. not. good. instead of music that intertwined with each scene like it was a character itself, amplifying the tone and adding a new layer (like in s1), the music this season was mostly just distracting, forgettable, and felt like they were this close to just making a bunch of music videos. i even found myself hating a couple of their choices (the rest i just kinda... forgot). i did like the vanya/allison/klaus dance scene, but other than that.... eugh.

3. the handler - I HATE. HATE HATE HATE. when shows/movie franchises do shit like make a big deal of killing off a villain or lead and then just being like “hehe jk uwu” and bringing them back with some totally bs reason that they lived. a metal plate? really? and she magically awoke... how long after? not to mention how unbelievably lazy and lame it is. they could’ve done so much more with carmichael and the swedes, but they had to bring back... the villain we already had? don’t get me wrong, i LOVEEE kate walsh, but come on. it’s season 2. give us something fresh.

4. the swedes - in s1, cha cha and hazel had personalities, wants, desires that were all explored. we knew their motivations, their doubts, their fears. we liked to watch them. then the writers threw in the swedes... who were completely devoid of any and all characterization (they could’ve gone in my #1 point too heyo), personality, backstory, anything. it was so painful that when each one died, it was clear that we were supposed to feel something for the others, but did any of you really feel anything? no. because we didn’t know these characters at all. they were walking guns, pretty much. nothing substantial.

5. ben & klaus - being someone who loves these two characters so, so much (hellloooo, my old url?), this one breaks my heart. i was so unbelievably disappointed with them this season. all either of them were was horrible to the other. in klaus’ case, he just decided to keep ben’s presence a secret, not even telling the group ben loved them, or that he was there. he called him his ghost bitch, he used him as a personal pet, he lacked sympathy or compassion. we saw a glimmer of hope when he allowed ben to possess him, but that’s where ben’s issues start. seriously, possessing your brother past his breaking point, fighting him out of his own bodily autonomy, until he is in a state of complete exhaution? then saying he “regrets nothing”? and then the show playing it off as ~comedy~ bc that’s almost all they cared about this season... no... there was nothing in their relationship this season that compared to last’s. no moments of tough brotherly love, where ben tries to help klaus through his drug/alcohol desires or ptsd flashbacks, no moments of teamwork (besides the brief moments of consenting possession before that was ruined), no tender moments between brothers in general. all just REALLY FUCKING LOUD “comedy”, anger, resentment, bickering, and cruelty, all played for laughs. not about it son

6. “we’re not blood related!” - and, once again, getting played for laughs... for a show that became uncomfortably self-aware with trivial fan desires (but not the deeper stuff...), they sure do lack a lot of common sense of realizing what we don’t want

7. hazel (& agnes) - they went through the trouble of saving hazel and agnes just to have agnes die off-screen before the season started, and for hazel to die five minutes into his only appearance? lame. lame lame lame.

8. plot pace - i don’t really recall any moments in s1 that i thought “this scene doesn’t need to be here”, “this is moving so slowly”, or “this is being really rushed”. there was plenty of all three of those in s2. s1 was constant, everything was either towards the main goal or was filled with private and fascinating character moments. i love just watching characters live and do their thing if it’s done properly... but those scenes this season really weren’t very entertaining (save one or two), didn’t really seem to serve a purpose or hold weight, and didn’t give us any character insight.

9. klaus - the reason he’s listed specifically even after i mentioned him in the first point, was because of how personally saddened i was by his “arc”, if you could call it that. i know, him being my favorite (along with vanya) in s1 isn’t an original thought. but the writers, directors, and robert created a character so entertaining, charming, layered, and multi-faceted that it was hard not to fall in love with him. for all his goofiness, he then got a shit ton of characterization and development in the war, in dave, in his ptsd and discovering his power. his poignant moments were so powerful because of how different it was from his typical outward appearance. and fuck if he didn’t develop! this season, klaus felt... shallow. the cult stuff had no depth, no real reason to be there at all (the show really wouldn’t be much different without it, besides it being how five and allison found klaus), and it was kind of a throwaway point anyway, just another tool to get - shocker - more laughs. those touching, serious klaus scenes were completely absent in s2... he was just the ~quirky~ and/or ~high/drunk~ guy. there was literally no depth to his character at all this season. yeah, he crawled from behind the desk in e9.... and what else? nothing. robert did all he could this season, but something tells me even he was probably disappointed by just how one-dimensional klaus was. he was really no different at the end than he was at the beginning of the season, which is a no-no.

10. klave - this is kind of an expansion of #9, but i was so disappointed by it that it needed its own spot. the only stuff that was supposed to be serious in klaus’ story - the klaus/dave stuff - was really not good. the moment the shopkeeper said “david?” in the store, i literally gasped bc i was so excited... but that was the last of any excitement i felt for the two, which, if you know me, is BONKERS considering how much i adore s1 klave. but this new young actor had ZERO chemistry with robert (fuck if rob wasn’t trying, though. it looked painful for him, but this guy really was just not well casted) (cody and rob were phenomenal together and had a fraction of the screentime this new actor had), and klaus being 30 and this actor/character being a kid was just... weird to watch. plus... so many white actors look the same, they really couldn’t find someone who looked like cody ray thompson? c’mon now ...... also, was there any point to it? at all? dave just wound up going anyway and there was literally no differences made in that situation. i think the writers thought they were catering to the audience by adding dave, but you need actors with chemistry (cody! cody!!!) and a good plot to do so.

11. s1 fallout - there really was none. that’s it. you’d think there’d be more after the explosions in the relationships of these siblings, but everything was just kind of glossed over.

12. sparrow academy - mostly here because... does this mean 7 more characters? meaning MORE time taken away from our og siblings, who already (mostly) didn’t develop well this season? i’m not gonna lie, i’m worried/

WHAT I LIKED

1. the chestnuts - i absolutely loved ray, loved allison, and loved their and their group’s work this season. the issue of race is so important all the time, but in the 60′s the tensions were so high and it would’ve been a joke if the show hadn’t addressed it or just kind of went with little racist remarks. these two had some of the most touching scenes of the season, and the sit-in scenes/every police scene had me incredibly anxious. that was well done, imo. which is proof that they still know how to do a good storyline, which makes me even more upset that the show was overall lacking that this season. i’m also so glad they didn’t go the “oh sry ray i still love luther’ route bc i literally don’t know if i would’ve kept watching. ANYWAYS im gonna miss ray sm :(

2. vanya & sissy - lesbian!vanya is all i want and more. vanya/sissy was all i want and more. these two, much like the chestnuts, breathed so much life into an often-dull season. so in love!!! vanya connecting with harlan even in just the most human ways!!! sissy finally standing up to carl (and carl d*ing god bless).... little found family oh my GOD!!! super devastated that sissy didn’t come back to the future with vanya, but because of harlan’s ending, something tells me we haven’t seen the last of them. oh and i am so conflicted about vanya’s amnesia, bc while i think so much more development could’ve happened without it, i also don’t think a lot of what happened with her and sissy could have happened, at least as quickly, if vanya was bogged down by guilt, anger, and lingering feelings of self-hatred and anxiety.

3. sibling dynamics - okay, this one is a contradiction, kinda sorta. i know i said the ben/klaus relationship was horrid. and i didn’t dig absolutely everything with all the siblings.... but they had some REALLY strong stuff this season. i know i’ve already mentioned it multiple times, but vanya/allison/klaus was everything to me this season. i knew i wanted klaus/vanya stuff happening, but adding allison to the mix gave it a whole new layer and they all just worked SO. DAMN. WELL. i just kind of wish it was vanya with her memories getting that bonding time, because i feel like the trio really could’ve gone in with how they all related to each other, their struggles, etc. but still, just some Happy Time was much appreciated. in addition to them, i really did dig a lot of almost every sibling dynamic this season. not every relationship got the attention it deserved, but it wasn’t too bad, it would be really hard to get all of that into 10 eps. plus, the fact that almost all of them grew so much closer was everyyyything. it’s odd, because good dynamics usually come with good development but uh..... nvm im keepin this section positive

4. the humor - another kind of contradiction, maybe. for some of the humor, i thought it went too long, was extremely heavy-handed, often took away from the plot, and some of it even degraded certain characters and situations (see examples throughout my points above). however, the stuff that didn’t fall into these categories was so, so good. some favorites: olga foroga, “think of batman, then aim lower”, “you look like antonio banderas with that hair” “thanks man”, i’m t h e d a d d y h e r e, “not everyone here likes you” “sounds ridiculous but go on”, klaus’ little pop culture quips to his cult, “being smart doesn’t make you interesting” “neither does that beard”, klaus calling ben to manifest and ben being like ”...nah”... there are plenty more, but these were the first i could think of in 60 seconds off the top of my head. some of it really was laugh out loud funny, which can be hard to do, especially consistently. if only they didn’t lean into it so damn hard, and put in WAY too much heavy-handed humor that it dampened the experience

5. old five - although i don’t love all of the stuff in the five/old five scenes, old five’s actor was fantastic! he got aidan’s mannerisms down really, really well. it’s always cool to see actors do that kind of thing when they play a character at a different age, or a character’s sibling, etc.

6. time period bigotry - i’m really, really glad they didn’t gloss over the intense racism and homophobia of the era. it was mostly brought up with allison, vanya, and klaus, and all three actors did a great job in their respective roles when expressing their reactions to the hatred. the scenes were really hard to watch, but well done.

7. pogo/grace/reggie - don’t get me wrong, i still hate reggie with a burning passion. but i actually found his scenes with these two really interesting, and it gave us great insight as to why pogo was always so loyal to reggie, and how grace was more than just a face on a robot to hargreeves. (which actually makes lack of development in our mains even more infuriating... they clearly knew to put some in there, where is it for the rest of the sibs who got nothing this season!!!)

alright, i’m gonna stop here. i’m sure i can think of more for each section, but i’ve been thinking this out and typing for an hour (holy shit) and it’s 2am and i need sleep xoxo

#anon #ask #tua2 #this is the most i've really sat and analyzed the season since it came out #feels good

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sunflowerhazzavol6 · 4 years

Note

i haven’t seen many blurbs like this around but i want more where harry and y/n are in a fwb type relationship but for y/n it’s strictly that and nothing more but harry wants more bc he’s fallen in love and y/n has a lot of trouble with commitment and is closed off 🥺

Unrequited

A/N- Mature content! But please enjoy some angst, since every piece I ever write is fluff. Requests are still open, so don’t be shy, put some more! Inspired by the lyrics:

‘woke up alone in this hotel room

played with myself, where were you?’

Harry wakes up to the late-morning sun shining through his window and into his face, causing him to groan and lift his hand to block it from his eyes. His head pounds while a sheering pain breaks through his consciousness, causing any lingering sleep to escape out of reach. This is the exact wake-up call he had hoped to avoid last night when he had stumbled into his bedroom, his thoughts clear enough to yank the curtains closed until he stumbled to his bed and blacked out. He glances to his bedside table to see the time, only to find a bottle of amber liquid and his empty scotch glass tipped over with its contents drip-drip-dripping onto the floor. He couldn’t find it in him to even care, pouring another glass and downing it before closing his eyes and slinging his arm over them so that all he can see from beneath his lids is black.

The sound of his ringer cuts through the silence, and he realizes the culprit for his waking up in the first place. He blindly reaches over and pats around until he finds it, lifting the screen into his vision. Jeff. The third call of what two had seemingly already been missed. He silences it, declines the call, and then turns off the screen, throwing it across the room. It ricochets off the wall and onto the loveseat covered with a pile of discarded clothes that by now were probably sour in their need for a wash. In the back of his head he thinks about how the discarded clothes used to be hers, theirs. Her panties haphazardly tossed onto the back of the chair, his shirt landing on top of them. His cock aches at the memory, and he reaches down to cup it over his sweats. In his mind’s eye he can smell her perfume, feel himself breathing it in through his mouth and through his nose while her hand travels down, down, down, over his stomach and under his slacks, finding its place where he needed her most. Against his better judgement he does the same with his own hand, allowing himself a gentle squeeze before his mind nestles itself in the memory that he had repeatedly told himself to forget, the memory that had played in his head over and over again for the past two weeks.

He liked watching her like this. Whenever she called him telling him she was thinking about him she was all corporate, strictly business and transactional. Even when she came through his door she was this way, her heels clicking against the tile until they made their way to his socked feet, her acrylic nails finding their way into his hair and her tongue searching until it met his. This is when the walls would come down, as each article of clothing would hit the floor- first her blazer, when she would whisper his name finally. Then her blouse, when she would tip her head back while his lips memorized her neck. Her bra, when her shoulders would relax and he knew she was his, in that moment. Her body would become near liquid and he would get her onto the bed, shedding his own clothing until they were nothing but moving bodies and pleasured moans, unable to tell where one of them began and the other one ended.

Her intelligence was the sexiest thing about her. She had just graduated from law school and was making her way up through the ranks of the firm, her focus never leaving the corporate ladder for a second. She was determined to surpass her male peers, and she did so with pride, knocking out any competitor that stood in her way. She had graduated at the top of her class and had a job before the commencement ceremony had even begun. Harry felt lucky to even be a part of her life, considering how she herself said she only had time for work and no fun. He knew she wouldn’t have it any other way, though, and he reveled in the fact that he could make her unravel with the curl of his fingers or the flick of his tongue despite her self-proclaimed laser focus.

He felt that power now, her orgasm fresh on his tongue as his mouth made its way up her body, kissing between her breasts until they found her matte-red pout. She takes this as a que to pull him closer by his shoulders, reaching down to grasp his hard length in her hand. He feels her press his tip to her entrance, her mouth leaving his to say “I want to ride you. Make me ride you.”

He groans at her words, flopping down to the side and grabbing at her hips to pull her over him, desperate for the stretch of her walls around him. “Make me ride you,” She repeats, but her words come out more as a breath than as an actual voice. “Make me make you cum.” He moans softly at her request, sinking himself into her effortlessly and without hesitation due to his preparation beforehand. She moves his hands to her hips and he begins to guide her, rocking her until he builds up pace and starts thrusting up into her heat. She closes her eyes and tips her head back, and that’s when he feels what was once a glorious pressure in his stomach turn into a painful one in his chest. She had been doing this lately, disassociating from the task at hand into her own state of pleasure, tricking him into thinking she was allowing him to do what he wanted when really she wanted the lack of control for herself. First her eyes would leave him, and then her hands, and he had a feeling that his moans echoing in her ears could be anyones and she wouldn’t bat an eye. She was wound up so tightly, so meticulous about her own thoughts and actions, that she used sex with him to have someone else be in control of what she was feeling, what she was doing. At first it didn’t bother him; he liked that he was that escape for her. But now he couldn’t help but to feel that maybe that was all he was. That it didn’t matter that it was him that she was tearing down walls with, but that it could have been anyone else filling her up, making her forget. He can feel her get closer to her orgasm as he gets further from his, her jaw going slack as her moans increase in volume and intensity. Pretty soon she’s coming undone on top of him, and as soon as the last wave of pleasure rolls through her body he pulls out, feeling himself going soft despite his lack of orgasm.

Y/n doesn’t seem to notice, laying down on her back with a blissful smile on her face. “Mm, you sure know how to use post-orgasm sensitivity to your advantage.”

“Do I?” He swallows, sitting up and rubbing his face.

“Well, you work that tongue of yours like a fucking dream. And then by the time I’m finished you’re hard and desperate, and make an honest woman of me with your cock…” She trails off with a sigh, biting her lower lip at the thought. Any other day this would have him up and running again, ready to give her more reason to talk like that, but now he couldn’t hold it back.

“Why don’t you look at me anymore?”

“What?”

“Why don’t you look at me anymore?” He repeats.

“Of course I do, what makes you-”

“Y/n.”

She can tell by his tone that this conversation has taken a turn, and finally she opens her eyes. When she finds his they’re visibly upset, ringed with red as if he was trying to hold back further emotions.

“Why don’t you look at me anymore?” He asks for the third time, his green eyes staring deeply into the ugliest parts of her soul. She knows he doesn’t know what he’s looking at, and she doesn’t want to be the one to break it to him even though it was her doing in the first place.

“Harry, you know what this is for me…”

“Do I? Because you sure seem to not know what it is. You call me when you’re upset, when you’ve had a bad day at work. Me, y/n. Not the other way around.”

“I just need an outlet, Harry, someone to talk to.”

“Not someone to talk to. Something to do.”

She sits up, suddenly feeling very exposed both physically and emotionally. She tugs at the corner of the sheets and he lifts his leg to free it so she can hold it to her chest, covering herself. His heart aches at the thought that he’s caused this sudden bout of self-consciousness, and suddenly wants to take it all back to have the soft y/n he had before he had opened his damned mouth.

“Well isn’t that what this is? Just sex?”

She isn’t looking at him, and suddenly he’s angry all over again. “Just sex isn’t telling someone your deepest darkest secrets at three a.m.”

She’s quiet for a second, and he can feel the fire in his chest grow as she struggles to find the right words. “I thought that was friendship. You know. Friends with benefits. You know I can’t have anything else right now, not with work and me trying to eventually make partner. Other women don’t stand a chance when they settle down and start to have kids, and I’m determined to not be those other women.”

“Who the fuck said anything about settling down and having kids, y/n? How about having a partner in life, someone to talk to, someone to come home to? That’s everything I am now, just without the label. You call me nearly every night, begging for just a few hours knowing that I’ll let you stay the night. And we don’t even always have sex! Fuck, you use me and I know it, but I let you just on the off chance that you’ll come around and change your mind-”

“Well then that’s on you for thinking it could be anything more-”

“On me?! I love you, y/n! You know for a fact that I love you, otherwise you would be calling on other men to get you off. You call me because you know I’m just desperate enough to say yes.”

“Then that means you use me just as much as I use you, Harry.”

“Oh, that’s it, isn’t it? So you telling me that I’m like home to you, that’s just some casual shit you’ve said to all the guys you’ve slept with? And me soaking it up, wanting more of it, that’s me using you?”

“Oh, grow up, Harry.” She stands up, grabbing her panties from the chair and yanking them on over her legs.

“Grow up. That’s rich, coming from you. You think that just because you’ve been successful that you’re more mature than anyone else? Maturity is admitting when you’re wrong.” The tears finely spill over, and he chastises himself internally for letting it happen at all. “Bloody hell, y/n, you think casual sex is you being a grown-up, just because it’s sex? I know you’re more intelligent than that, and you do too.”

“I’m done with this conversation.” She pulls on her shoes, the rest of her clothes having been hurriedly put on in his lecture. “It’s sex, Harry, not a fucking wedding.” He starts to speak but the slam of the door cuts him off, and he’s left to his own silence. The smell of her perfume wafts back to him, and he falls back into the pillows to let himself come undone, the sobs wracking his body as grief settles over him in a thick cloud.

He wipes the tears from his cheeks with the back of his hand as his orgasm takes over him, biology taking the lead despite his estranged state. It was her. Her smile, her laugh, the way he would find strands of her hair all over his apartment as if she belonged here. In his head she did belong here, his y/n, his smart, beautiful, cunning y/n. By the time he cleans himself up he’s shaking his head and sighing, hoping the memories will rattle loose from his skull and make their way out through his ears, or his mouth, or at least something. It would be so much easier if his attraction to her would just disappear, if his dick would stop thinking for itself and let him have a go.

His phone starts to ring again. Jeff’s name lights up the screen and he resists answering it, for fear that the pressure in his chest will rise to his throat and choke him until he blacks out. He swallows thickly and picks it up, swiping his thumb across the screen.

“Hey, Jeff. Yeah, yeah it’s Harry. No, I’m fine. Just caught a cold is all. What’s up?”

#Harry Styles #harry edward styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles angst

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random-mha-thoughts · 4 years

Text

Tea (Todoroki X Reader)

Pairing: Todoroki x fem(?)!Reader (see a/n)

Genre: Fluff, slight angst (?) (definitely some feels), SoL? Idk

Summary: Todoroki is being sent somewhere with Endeavor for an unknown amount of time and while you agreed that you wanted to help him pack after a party at Bakugou’s, you end up not for one reason or another (maybe bc you had a drink or two and you’re a somewhat emotionally vulnerable).

Word count: 1,582

Tags: @yuki-osaki @liviitehe @iamsoftsodonttoucheume-blog @bunnythepipsqueak

a/n: Okay so I know I wanted to keep this neutral, but I really wanted to make heels a thing here, so I slipped, I’m sorry :(. But if you ignore that, everything else should be fine. Kept it pretty PG here for the most part too. If you’re curious, Icy Hot’s wearing a black dress shirt, maroon sweater, and dark pants/jeans (I just really like this pic, the artist was really good). And if I put it in your head that he may or may not be wearing glasses, you can do whatever your heart desires with that useless information.

Heads up though, next post should be Shinso x Reader so if you like that kinda stuff, stay tuned I guess? Yeah...

Also if you enjoy sammiches as much as I do, you’ll be able to hear Todo juust fine winkwonk.

"Baby, you're clutching my arm very hard."

"I can't walk very well," I admit more giggly than I wanted it to come out. "My feet hurt in these heels and the road isn't helping." Truthfully, the path to Todoroki's apartment from Bakugou's is downhill and I might've had one too many drinks when I already have a low tolerance. The last thing I want to do is fall on my ass and make my supportive boyfriend think he's dating a lush. Not to mention, I'm not too mad about being able to grab his toned biceps as my own.

He stops walking suddenly and fully faces me, expression fully serious that I think he might actually yell at me for a second. "Do you want me to carry you?"

Shame hits me like a truck and sobers me, realizing I'm acting childish. "No, I can walk. It's not that far anyway, I'm sorry-"

He gently grabs my face in his hands and bores his intense stare into them. "You're obviously uncomfortable. I'd really like to carry you," he states with authority.

No matter how many times Todoroki does this, I can't seem to get used to it. The way his eyes glare into my soul with seemingly endless passion tongue-ties me. On occasions when he really wants me to hear something - usually his professions of affection or persuasion - he'll make a point to softly cradle my head in his hands. Sometimes when they come at random, he'll stare wordlessly before cracking a heartwarming smile or place a small kiss somewhere on my face before returning to whatever it is he was doing beforehand.

My face heats up and I want to avert his gaze out of embarrassment. "I'm... I'm pretty heavy," I blurt out dumbly, saying the first thing that comes to mind.

"I can handle it. I've trained a lot."

I can tell, I almost want to retort to fluster him too.

"Do you prefer being on my back or in my arms?"

My face turns redder at the thought of either happening. "O-On your back," I mumble. It's the least embarrassing of the two.

Todoroki finally releases me of his hands and eyes, bending down in front of me so I can get on. Once I'm secured to his back like a child, his hands under my thighs, he stands up and continues walking down the sidewalk.

I tighten my arms around his neck, half scared I'll fall, and bury my face into his left side. "If I get too much for you, you can put me down, okay?"

He nods wordlessly, which I know means he won't, being the stubborn, affectionate boyfriend he is.

I breathe into his neck, his steady walking pace calming me. His natural fresh, airy scent mixes with the musk of his cologne. "I'm sorry I'm too much for you," I murmur near his ear.

"What makes you say that?" I practically hear the way his eyebrows furrow.

"I'm tipsy, walking like a baby elephant, you have to carry me back to your place like a child on your back." I cling to him harder. "I'm being a burden to you, I'm sorry."

He hums slightly, the vibrations caressing my arms around his neck. "I did say I'd like to carry you."

I smile just slightly. "You're just saying that to make me feel better." I kiss his cheek fondly. "Thank you, I guess."

The heat on his left side gets minutely warmer and I giggle at his reaction.

We finally make it to Todoroki's apartment lobby and into the elevator. Though I tell him I can walk the rest of the way, he refuses to let me down, reasoning that it's faster for him to carry me. Once we make it into his modest apartment, he strolls into his room and finally sets me down to sit on his pale blue comforter before giving me a glass of water to drink. "This should help flush out the alcohol and keep you from getting a hangover tomorrow."

I thank him for his thoughtfulness and he moves to retrieve his suitcase from the top of his closet. Endeavor wanted him to come on a mission in some other country for a week or so, depending on how quickly the situation is resolved.

I curl my legs up so he has space to open the suitcase on his bed. As he neatly packs his clothes and other belongings, it's silent; I just watch him, sipping my drink as he wordlessly packs, eventually shedding his maroon sweater and rolling up the sleeves on his fitted, black button-up. When I asked to come over after Bakugou and Kirishima's party to help him pack, he agreed, but now he's not asking me for assistance. Not that I'm bothered by it.

He eventually closes everything up and stands the grey suitcase on its wheels, rolling it next to the door before approaching me for the empty glass. "Tea?"

I nod, following him into the kitchen and observing his back from the counter as he prepares two cups for us. A well of emotions has been building up inside me the entire night. Seeing my boyfriend move around the kitchen makes me deflate at the thought of me being deprived of his kindness for a while.

Todoroki's hand brushes my arm, motioning to his room with the tray in his hands. He leads us back to sit on his bed. "Are you cold?" he asks as he hands me my cup. "Do you want to get under the blanket?"

"I'm fine, thanks." I blow on my drink and sip it carefully.

We bask in each other's calm presence as we usually do most nights. Another thing I'll miss while he's away.

He lightly touches his hand against my arm. "Love, are you alright?"

The term of endearment is enough to warm me up inside. "Yeah, why?"

"You're frowning."

I didn't know I was until I felt my face relax at the comment. "Sorry," I say instinctively.

He finishes his cup and places it on the tray resting on the floor before settling next to me, resting against the headboard and running his hand on my knee, tracing small patterns with his finger.

I twitch at the slightly ticklish sensation. "I'm sorry I wasn't any help with your packing. I just sat here."

Todoroki shrugs, watching me with fond eyes. "I figured you just wanted my company since you know I can pack myself."

I smile tugs at my lips. "You know me so well." I drink the rest of my tea and set it down next to his cup before facing him completely.

The boy entwines my fingers in his cool hand, staring into my eyes. "You look beautiful."

I chuckle at the compliment he repeated at least 10 times today. "And you're still handsome."

Still staring at me with those heterochromatic eyes, he wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me closer to him. "I'm dreading leaving you tomorrow," he admits quietly.

I smile sadly. "Me too."

He brushes his hand through my hair. "I wish I had a suitcase big enough to stow you away in."

"Me too."

His lips hover near mine for a moment. "I'll come back as quickly as I can." He places a soft peck on my nose. "I'll think about you a lot." Before I can respond, his lips are on mine, slowly moving before pulling away slightly. "Sorry, I've been waiting most of the night." He picks right back up, holding my nape. I feel the overwhelming love he pours into the kiss, spurring my own feelings. My fingers thread into his soft hair, softly tugging at the strands to pull him closer.

Todoroki has no intention of letting go, clenching his arm around my waist to get rid of any space between us as he pulls me to straddle him. His kisses get more desperate, more passionate, unspoken words relaying from him. My stomach tumbles with weightlessness, the amount of emotion he presents overwhelming me. His tongue lines my bottom lip before he nips at it, enticing a gasp from me. He tilts my head to pepper kisses down my jaw to my neck before recapturing my lips with new fervor. Cold fingers trail under the hem of my shirt up my sides, my body quivering in response as I let out a shaky breath into his mouth. "Your skin is so soft," he whispers, "I'll miss it when I'm away."

A few more breathless kisses before he pulls away, resting our foreheads together. "Baby," he mutters, catching his breath, "I'll miss you, so much."

My hammering heart melts at his words. "I'll miss you more."

Todoroki places one more slow kiss on my lips before he rolls us onto our sides, still hugging me close to him and staring lovingly into my eyes. "I promise I'll make it up to you when I return. Would you like to spend the night?"

I snuggle into the crook of his neck and place a kiss there. "I'd like that. And you can tell me how you'll make it up to me."

A warm hand comes up to play with my hair as he chuckles. "Well, I'd ravage you first of all-"

My fist collides with his chest softly in halfhearted protest. The rest of our night ends in cuddles and quiet whispers as we lull each other to sleep in each other's arms.

#todoroki x reader #todoroki fluff #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #todoroki imagine #todoroki scenario #bnha x reader #mha x reader #todoroki shouto #shouto todoroki #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction

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donnanxblearchive · 4 years

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send me an au you wish i‘d write. // i wish you would write a fic where donna & gwen & martha are having fun together! ( @yoakkemae ) tagging @manaborn bc yea

Gwen had declared they all needed some time off. Donna had found it a little difficult to try to argue against her since she had Facetime’d her and Martha while she was taking cover and her jacket was a little too freshly singed. She’s sure that Gwen knew what she was doing; if she’d called from her ship, Donna wouldn’t of hesitated to steamroll over her ideas.

“I’m off Friday, actually,” had piped up Martha, even as Donna knew she could see her glare. “What’d you have in mind, Gwen? I might be able to trade my Saturday shift.”

“Martha, don’t try to twist yourse–”

“Yes! We could go to the mountains, really unplug from it all!” Donna had taken a breath to retort when Gwen dropped her phone with a muttered curse. Both women waited quietly as the sounds of whatever defense maneuvers Gwen took faded in, and then the phone was picked back up with a scramble. “How about at the cabins from my 16th a couple years back?”

Donna blinked, paperwork slowly becoming forgotten. “Over in America? In the Rocky Mountains?” Gwen nodded eagerly. Martha tried to hide a smile behind her hand, it didn’t really work. “It’s February, I don’t think it’ll be easy to find one for this weekend.” She hoped it didn’t sound like she was agreeing to this weekend, she’s sure she had other things to do this weekend. “Don’t you have things due for uni?”

“Oh, I’m sure missing one assignment won’t kill her.”

“You are not supposed to be a bad influence.”

“She does just fine while traveling around.”

“Yeah!” Gwen was now on the move, as her picture shook and she kept looking behind her. Donna was ready to chew her ass out over being so overconfident. “If it helps, I’ll get everything turned in early and let my professors know I’ll be going out on a family trip.” There went that excuse. Donna chewed on the tip of her pen.

“It’s going to be expensive.”

“Loosen your fist a little, Scrooge.”

“Oi!” She pointed her pen at the phone, ignoring the loud laughter in order to keep a mean face on. “I still have to budget my expenses, just like everyone else.” Not a lie, but not the truth either. Her budget was hilariously more inflated than well over half the world’s population and she was well aware of it. Still, she had to make a point. “Keep that sass up an’ see if I’ll pay your ticket, Doctor Jones.”

“Oh, pleeeease, Auntie.” She must really want this trip. It was always desperate measures for Gwen to not just call her by her name. Donna gave a long suffering sigh. “Just two days away, no aliens, no paperwork, no projects. It’ll be us, snow, and spa treatments!”

“I’ll get Eliza to see what she can do,” twin cheers erupted and she shouted to talk over them, “but only if she can move my own schedule around. I’m not makin’ any promises. And, I’ll cancel it all if any of your professors tell me you’re missin’ papers.” Gwen stuck her tongue out on that and Martha shook her head. “Martha, how long ‘till you can confirm your shift change?”

“I should know by tonight. We plan more out then.”

“Guys—” Looking at Gwen’s square on the screen showed just a glittering purple sky. Her voice sounded off to the side, and Donna assumed she was probably looking over Plumber notes. She hoped she was looking over Plumber notes and not taking cover again. “Wild thought, but I could just fly us there.” Denials from both Martha and Donna were quick, making Gwen pop her head back into frame. It was upside down, and mostly her eye, but the insult was clear. “Fine. Party poopers.”

“We’ll reconvene in the evening. Martha, keep savin’ lives. Gwen, stay alive.”

“No promises, loveyouguyssomuchBYE!”

Once seven o’clock rolled around, Donna was able to move her schedule around and Martha was able to trade her Saturday shift to get a three-day weekend. The three of them were in her office with two boxes of pizza steaming up her glass coffee table, and the projector displaying snow wear options. Gwen was more than a little distracted as her assistant was currently talking to her about their lodging options seeing as the original choice was all booked up.

“Wait, go back, go back, yes, that one! Where is it again?”

“Aspen, in Colorado.”

“It looks really cute. Donna, Martha, look, isn’t it cute?” With a few quick taps, Gwen switched the projected image. She very much ignored Donna’s indignant squawk, but quickly returned Martha’s silent overhead fistbump. “And we can get one that has bunk beds!”

“Eliza, I will fire you if you book the bunks.”

“Noted, ma’am.” Gwen pouted dramatically into her pizza slice. Martha gave her shoulder a consoling pat but wisely didn’t voice an opinion on the bunk debate. “There are three bedroom options, two bathrooms and a full kitchen. I can see about requesting one near the sauna.” Gwen gave an exaggerated gasp, nearly choking on her pizza. Donna rolled her eyes and waved a hand in silent agreement.

Once her assistant left the office to make the booking, control evaded Donna again. The iPad was now in Martha’s power, who was swiping along the different recreational activities listed. “Don’t you want to check the price beforehand?” Martha got a throw pillow to the face for her efforts.

“Let’s finish this up already before Shaun files a missing persons report on me.”

“You didn’t tell him?”

Donna squinted, as if the action would help recall her conversation with her husband. Damn TimeLord consciousness was only useful when it decided to be. “I mentioned it to him. I mean, I told him that I might be goin’ outta town this weekend. Course, he asked if it was just outta town or really outta space, he’s a bit hurt from our trip to Clom last month–”

“Sucks,” cuts in Gwen around a mouthful of pizza.

“–and I still haven’t been able to get the universal signal done to his new phone, so I’m sure he’s just being a worrywart. I hadn’t confirmed my schedule yet when I talked to him, an’ then I had to do some video conferences an’ the day just slipped away.” She shrugged. “I’ll just send a text right now. You two can choose what you’d want Eliza to book at the resort.”

She leaned back against her desk and typed out a few messages. Martha and Gwen were enthusiastically going over the different options, giggles freely sprinkled between them, and Donna felt a warmth blossom in her chest. She tried – and usually failed – to hide how much she worried over the two, and seeing them able to act so relaxed helped her own stress by leaps and bounds. A fun, Earth-bound, no-magic, and wonderfully impromptu vacation might really be the best for them.

“Alright, you two,” she gave a quick clap of her hands and swiped the iPad out of Martha’s hands, “the husband’s aware you’ve got me in lockdown. Let’s get this trip planned.”

The first day hadn’t been so bad. They’d taken a red-eye flight to try to beat the six hour jetlag, had a marvelous brunch in bed, and then powered on ahead with the day’s activities. Donna had forwarded Gwen the itinerary from Eliza, declaring that she wasn’t going to stress about the agenda as this wasn’t even her idea. Not that Gwen worried about keeping track of it all with how wide her smile was the entire day. They’d gotten wonderful hour-long deep tissue massages, popped in the sauna afterwards, a quick shower at the cabin and taken the town by storm. Which just meant going around town and peer pressuring Donna to tap into the TimeLord knowledge of the town’s history.

“You know,” Donna had said to Martha as they took a milkshake break, “I’m not too sure if he’d have a fit about this.”

She never had to specify who he was. Martha always seemed to know, always giving that small nod in response. “Taking days off wasn’t exactly his thing. For all he said to just travel, he was always doing something, wasn’t he?”

“God, yes. I had to wrestle him into taking us to dinner or heaven forbid the beach!” They shared a soft laugh. “I mean, he enjoyed it, that’s for sure. But I mean, I was talkin’ more about all this,” she tapped at her forehead, “bein’ so here, ya’know?”

“It’s not like he was shy, Donna.”

“Yes, yes, and he was an insufferable show-off in the worst moments. Still, it just,” she shrugs, not sure how to formulate her thoughts and that was definitely very human of her, “it doesn’t feel quite right to just be larkin’ ‘round town and basically pluck out the Wikipedia page about city hall with a blink.”

“Because it’s your doing it, or because he’s not here?”

There went Martha again, being all understanding eyes and soft smiles. Her bedside manner was truly spectacular, and it just made her all the more brilliant a friend. What Donna would’ve given to have a friend like her when she was younger, a true reasonable and supportive person. Introspective talks like these never felt intrusive with her, they hadn’t in a very long time, and Donna was finding herself more receptive to analyzing her feelings than she thought. As she kept quiet, Martha extended the same courtesy, without so much as a blink of impatience.

Gwen came bounding up to them in that moment, fresh snow dusting her shoulders and making a pretty picture as it melted in her hair. Without asking, she squeezed between their bar stools and took a sip from Donna’s shake. “I found a super adorable bookstore, it’s maybe a ten minute walk from here. Are you guys ready? It’s also in a plaza with some clothing stores, and I wanna max out Donna’s card before dinner.”

“Oi!” Donna tugged at Gwen’s ponytail while Martha laughed. “Don’t you have your own money?”

“I cannot afford everything I want to buy.”

“Maybe you should budget like our self-made moneybags over here.” Martha smirked. “Though I don’t think another thou will make much difference to her.”

“Yes, you’re right.” Gwen’s nod was far too somber. Any scraps of severity were demolished as she slurped the last dredges of Donna’s shake before giving a loud sigh. “Guess I’ll have to spend two thousand.”

“Fuck off,” Donna said with all the hostility of a baby duck amid their laughter.

The second day is when the nefarious plan came to light. Breakfast had been at one of the resort restaurants, in the type of place that Donna would’ve been all aflutter stepping foot in years ago. But the atmospheric instrumental music, warm lighting, floor-to-ceiling windows, and softly spoken waitress had long been part of her daily routine. By extension, it was certainly more common in Gwen and Martha’s lives than a decade back. As such, they all knew better than too be as wickedly loud as normal, and the conversation was kept light— to a point.

“Sorry, snowboarding?”

“Yup, our rentals and instructor are scheduled to start at one, and,” Gwen paused to take a forkful of her omelet, “Eliza booked us for four hours.”

“Four hours?!” Her voice rose well above ‘indoor,’ and Martha motioned at her. “Are you flippin’ nuts, Gwen?” Her niece shrugged and kept eating. “I’m not snowboardin’ for four bloody hours, hard pressed to find me there for e’en one!”

“You can’t tell me you’ve never tried it.” Donna scoffed at Martha. “What did you do when you were here last?”

“Watch over a bunch of sixteen year olds.” She pointed a fork at Gwen, quickly adding, “And don’t say your lot wasn’t that bad or so help me God—” Gwen deflated, but grumbled under her breath before sipping her hot chocolate.

“It’s not that difficult, Donna. Plus, you’re not goin’ in blind. We’ve got an instructor.”

“I take it you’ve done this before,” she said dryly.

“Years ago, yeah! It’s loads of fun, believe me. It’s just like that game the arcade has, just with more wind around you.” Donna kept as blank an expression as possible as she buttered her croissant without looking down. “Oh, c’mon, you know the one! Gwen,” she turned to the younger girl, “she knows what I’m talking about right?”

Gwen sucked her teeth and gave a small shake. “I’ve literally never been able to get her into an arcade.”

For a brief moment, a second even, Martha’s face fell. But just as quick she smiled the way that doctors do when they know chances are slim but they have to keep moral up, and Donna narrowed her eyes. “Well, no matter. It’s all balance and coordination, and even if you fall a few times, it’s going t’be fun!”

It was not being fun. She ate snow too many times to count, the cold was well past her bones and into her soul, and she was certain her ass was going to be covered in bruises. Gwen had, naturally glided around like a professional, all sparkling eyes and reddened cheeks. She looked like the poster girl for the slopes as her red hair whipped around her, making her an easy dot to follow. Martha had needed just a slight assistance from the instructor, and if there wasn’t near a twenty year difference between them, Donna would have immediately accused her of having practiced recently.

“Donnaaaaa.” Gwen might be whining, but that smile is still plastered on her face. “Don’t be such a sourpuss.”

“I will be as sour as I damn well please.”

“Donna,” cut in Martha as she gracefully came up the side and looked like a damn movie star taking off her helmet, “we’ve only been here an hour.” Donna eyes bulged but Martha kept talking. “I think you might just be overthinking it. I mean, what if during your travels, you would’ve had to snowboard?”

“I would have gladly taken my role as bait.”

“No,” the word was very forceful and Donna scrunched her nose at it. “You would not. You would have given it your one hundred percent effort and been brilliant at it. I sincerely doubt you’re givin’ more than thirty percent.”

“Mrs. Temple-Noble,” the three swung their attention to the instructor, “I will agree that you could be putting just a little more enthusiasm into your attempts. Often times your success depends on your state of mind too, not just your state of body.”

“Thanks Jared, I’ll make sure to blame my mind when I snowball off the curve.” The instructor gave a sigh, the first (and certainly not last) break in his professional demeanor. “However, I am pushing fifty and my body doesn’t work like it used to before.”

Gwen hums a little ditty at her words, which Donna can’t place but Martha can. She gives the younger girl a slap to her shoulder and Gwen looks only slightly sheepish. They seem to have a silent talk in the next few moments while Donna might as well be climbing Jared in her attempts to stand up. If she wasn’t so worried about getting frostbite on her ass, she might have interrogated them about their charades game.

“Ya know, Sylvia had mentioned that Nerys was gonna go snowboarding this year.” Donna had been about to remove the snowboard when the mention of her best frenemy come out. Gwen continued a bit too offhandedly. “I think she’d said she wanted to invite you, but you don’t know how to snowboard, so it would’ve killed the mood. Isn’t that right, Martha?”

“When I talked to Veena, she wouldn’t shut up about it. She said that—”

“Shut up, shut up. I’m not goin’ to have that fuckin’ breadstick think she can do better. You know who taught her to roller skate? Me!” She huffed and pulled at the hem of her snow jacket. “I’ll shove this board up her arse before lettin’ her win this, Jared, let’s do this again, chop chop.”

She missed the fistbump shared between the younger women in all her blustering rage.

It doesn’t take Donna long after that to get the hang of it. She’s nowhere near the level of expertise that Gwen shows, but that’s fine. She can at least go down the beginners slopes with them and scream with laughter once they reach the bottom in one piece. Jared finishes his four hours with them, but they keep on going until they can’t deny the sun is setting and everyone is being instructed off the snow. She’s sure to be aching in the morning, but she’s smiling the entire time Martha and Gwen are recounting the day’s adventure over room service.

The third day is short given their late afternoon flight. They wake up late, make quick work of their packing, and set out for a casual lunch. They end up passing through a chocolate shop going back to the resort, and Donna nearly melts as she bites into her eclair.

“What would your trainer say?” Martha’s eyes are crinkled up as she teases. She takes Donna’s shove with a chuckle.

“Sod off, do you have any idea ‘ow many calories I burned yesterday? I more than deserve this.”

“Snowboarding is a great way to start.” Gwen kept her gaze straight ahead, even as she kept her arm linked to Donna’s. “It really makes your body and mind work together, and counts on a sense of timing too. Really makes you use your core the entire time without neglecting the rest of your body. You know what else does that?” She didn’t wait for Donna to respond. “Taekwondo, karate, jujitsu, or—”

“Oh my God, was that the whole point of this? To keep pushin’ your martial arts agenda?”

“She has a point.”

“Absolutely not!”

“What’s the harm in learning a little self-defense? You’re not really only workin’ in an office. You still come across aliens and thwart plans all the time.”

“And I have a trainer that makes sure I can still run away before they lay a hand on me.”

They bicker, two against one, pretty much the rest of the day until they have to check out. She gives in and calls Eliza on speaker phone while Gwen is still listing the mental benefits of martial arts. The assistant sounds properly confused when she says she wants to book gym space next week. The look of elated shock on Gwen’s face when Donna throws her the phone to request what’s needed almost makes the forthcoming torture worth it.

“Was that so hard, Donna?”

“You’re not getting’ off that easy, Martha, I’ll haul you outta the hospital myself if you don’t show up.”

#[ drabble ]#yoakkemae #manaborn #i totally went overboard with this #i literally didnt know how to stop it #is this exactly fun? idk but i had fun writing it

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sharksfood · 4 years

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I saw Onward last week with my friend who is an avid LARPer and fellow lover of all things fantasy, so it was a perfect movie for the two of us. in general I adored it! I’ll probably see it again if i have the time and of course, i’m getting it on BluRay. i would also LOVE to snag the art book since the character design for this film was probably my favorite part.

[some spoilers]

my biggest complaint (and its not a complaint, just a negative i guess) is that Onward didnt feel like a Pixar movie to me, both in the story and animation. the animation style wasnt as interesting as some of the Pixar movies in the past (though thats been kinda up or down for a while), and it didnt feel as fresh or mind-blowing. to me it fit in better with the regular Disney animated features, not Pixar. Especially in comparison to Toy Story 4, albeit theyre very different styles, something about it didn’t pop for me like most Pixar movies do. The story was a little bland with Pixar in mind, though i did love it! i just always think of Pixar as the studio that gives stories and feelings to things we usually don’t expect. And Onward i guess was so similar to real life that it didn’t feel that way. Maybe if they had pushed the fantasy-realism even more, or changed some modern things to fit with these creatures more (they did do this but i think they didn’t push it far enough), that would have sold me.

and i’m not gonna talk about it at length, but the whole “Disney making a big deal about their ‘first’ LGBT character and acting so high and mighty about it” did dull the magic for me. considering the police officer was in two scenes, plus she didn’t have ANY characterization beyond being a cop and having a gf with a kid, it really did not live up to Disney’s hype. i’m not saying she wasn’t “gay enough” or whatever, but had they not brought it up beforehand or made any “hype” about her, i would have liked her a lot more. To compare this to Paranorman (not everyone agrees its good rep) Mitch being gay wasn’t something for LAIKA to brag about. Had Disney followed suit, their “first” gay character wouldn’t have become a meme.

Okay, so for the good stuff, I am a huge sucker for sibling bonding and especially HEALING in fiction. it gets to me more between sisters, but still. Ian and Barley like each other and get along well, but they still have their problems and doubts. The fact that they grew into their own and with each other is beautiful, especially the fact that Ian now sees Barley as a father figure AND a brother. That is an element i haven’t seen before, let alone done this well. I also really appreciated the tension between them in that Ian thought Barley was a screw up, that he thought less than great about his actions and choices. This sort of thing isn’t explored in media enough, and I’d love to see more. I believe most people don’t consider that our siblings’ opinions do matter to us as much as our parents’.

Again, I LOVE the character designs in this film. Everyone looks unique and distinct while still having key traits for each species. I love these designs way more that those in Monsters U, which felt kinda cut-and-paste with the monsters. I loved how you could tell that even within the elves they were still different races (or at least coded) with hair, facial features, and skin tone, all the while still blue! They did this with other creatures too, like how Corey is black while also being a Manticore bcs of her hair texture (and of course the incredible voice of Octavia Spencer). And you know what diversity Disney added and made not a peep about? One of Ian’s school friends walks with crutches! I can’t say what his affliction is, but its wonderful to see some inclusion to disabled folks.

My favorite characters were Barley and Corey. Barley was just so incredibly well rounded, like he was perfectly imperfect. I could go on and on honestly. Corey on the other hand was just plain AWESOME! Her little personality crisis felt kind of rushed to me, but to me it fit as an allegory for the whole film; she is a magical and powerful creature who let herself become weighed down by modern society and lost her moxie. I also love that Corey and the boy’s mom, Laurel, became friends (but i wouldve died to see them as a couple). I really want to know more about Manticores in this universe, since she seemed like the only one, and also might be immortal?

What initially drew me to this movie was seeing a centaur character in the original trailer, as trivial as that sounds its true. I love centaurs so much, and they hold a special place in my life for many reasons. I was a bit dissapointed in that there was only two centaurs prominently shown in Onward; Colt and the gal playing DDR (which was adorable). In the trailer there was one more, but not in the film. I did really like Colt, and he’s growing on me more. But one thing that has not left my mind is why to the centaurs and satyrs not wear pants?! everyone else does!! its probably bcs Pixar wanted the audience to clearly read them as centaurs/satyrs so pants would cover their cool legs, but still.... Do they just have a different level of decency than others? I have to know. But I love that the centaurs have horse ears instead of human ones <3

Lastly, and this isn’t good or bad, but I just didn’t resonate with Ian and Barley bringing back their dad. I mean, it was very emotional and a great drive to the story, but since I still have my parents I guess I just couldn’t connect to it. I liked how they were able to characterize the boy’s dad with just legs, that was adorable and a huge feat for animation!

Some little things I want to mention: the final boss dragon was SO COOL, it reminded me of the giant Ralph at the end of Ralph Breaks the Internet how it was made out of pieces, Ian was accurately scared to drive for the first time and i FELT THAT, Barley went the entire movie with a broken arm/wrist and took every swing like a champ! that boy is so chaotic i love him. ALSO it was so cool how Ian and Barley had each bits and pieces of their parents looks! like Ian had his dad’s face and body but his mom’s eyes, etc. Love that choice family design

All in all, a dazzling and wonderful movie with great characters and a cool story/theme, just not what I would expect from Pixar.

#onward #onward spoilers #onward review #babble

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garreaus-a · 4 years

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hi, everyone ! it’s jessie again. i couldn’t help myself, ok ? i had to bring in my Chaotic Good, espionage-elite, French son samuel ... i hope u like him :’). he’s a character i’ve had awhile from a previous rpg / my indie ( aka the Archive ) so i adjusted his backstory a lil’ to fit here. again, please hmu on discord if you’d like to plot !! <3

⌠ BEN BARNES, 36, CISMALE, HE/HIM ⌡ welcome back to gallagher academy, SAMUEL GARREAU ! originally hailing from BLACKTHORNE, this alum specializes in THREAT ELIMINATION. when i see them walking around in the halls, i usually see a flash of ( complacent smirks paired with attentive eyes; the aroma of expensive, but fresh cologne; the decision to just “wing it”; a cigarette between lips ). it’s the ( leo )’s birthday on 08/14/1983, and when they were still in school their most requested dish was BOUILLABAISSE from the school’s chefs. hopefully their presence can help ease the minds of gallagher students.

𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝙱𝙰𝙲𝙺𝚂𝚃𝙾𝚁𝚈.

in the late 1970s-80s, there were a string of infamous art robberies and trafficking occurring around france, which linked to notorious art thieves from both france and america. french-american cia agent matthieu garreau was assigned to assist the central directorate of the judicial police and the dgse in their investigation. french art curator adeyln legrand ( her fam is Old Money rich bc they own museums across the country ) was involved in the case as well, helping the agencies identify the stolen art pieces and their worth. as soon as matthieu laid eyes on her, it was love at first sight !

samuel elias garreau was born in paris, france — just before matthieu was sent back to washington d.c. he was raised by his mother and maternal grandparents ( who lived in marseille ) for most of his childhood. his childhood was filled with love, art, linguistics & french cuisine. he became a polyglot at a very young age, knowing how to speak french, english and spanish fluently. his father visited his wife and son as much as he could in france, but eventually, the two moved to washington d.c. when samuel was 10-years-old.

a bit of context on the garreau family: the garreau family name has been involved in espionage for a VERY long time. lineages stem back to being loyal spies for the french monarchy for many generations before the surviving garreaus immigrated to america to escape WWII. many relatives eventually returned to france, but samuel’s paternal great-grandparents decided to continue to raise their children in the united states & establish connections with american intelligence agencies.

immediately, matthieu wanted to begin espionage training ( already samuel was a couple years behind in hand-to-hand combat / weaponry training, so he’s eager ). adelyn was a bit Conflicted but ... lil’ energetic, happy-go-lucky samuel was ECSTATIC !! what better way to bond with your father, am i right ??

those 4 years before spy prep high school was full of father-son bonding, grueling combat training, & survival skill training. but, samuel was also a normal, private elementary / middle school student in washington d.c. it was a lot of pressure — juggling school, his blossoming social life, and keeping the whole “ i’m training to become a spy ” thing a secret bc sam CANNOT stop talking

before samuel busted at the seams, he was sent off to a prestigious spy prep school on the east coast to truly hone his skills and begin to identify what he may excel at as a spy; however, sam didn’t take it seriously ... like at ALL. it was mostly because he was so bored — he needed something stimulating / challenging. often samuel was being a Sneaky jerk, pulling pranks & being a kleptomaniac; however, his grades showed the opposite of his delinquent behavior. he was excelling in all of his classes.

the garreaus did not know what to do with samuel. literally, they had a whole damn family meeting about where he’s headed in his spy career bc there’s NO WAY any spy university would be willing to take him. the plan would be to utilize their connections in france and get him enrolled in an academy there until ...

blackthorne academy showed up outta nowhere and was like “ hey, we’ll whip his ass into shape. give him to us. ” the garreaus were reluctant due to the academy’s reputation and suspicious as to HOW blackthorne caught wind of their samuel; however, maybe this is what he needed. the most against this was his mother, but her voice held no authority.

samuel was in for a RUDE awakening at blackthorne. maybe it was for the better ? he majored in THREAT ELIMINATION + LINGUISTICS, CULTURE, & ASSIMILATION ( whatever was blackthorne’s version of those were ).

his first year there practically BROKE him, but by his sophomore year, his flaws became refined skills. somehow, his extrovert / devil-may-care and shrewd personality still shined amongst his callous and/or sadistic peers.

the codename HERMES seemed to be used by his instructors sometimes to “ make fun ” of samuel, the label representing his ability to outwit his peers, mischievous and intrepid nature, proficient adaptability, and most importantly, he mastered the art of infiltration & extraction — just as the god of thieves would ( the ONLY time he’s the quietest compared to his peers tbh ) u know ... also stole lives too ... i know that’s cheesy SHHH

of course ... we all know the whole deal about blackthorne. he was molded into the perfect assassin, not a sophisticated spy that could have a drink with james bond or ... with his prestigious, royal spy family.

throughout his many years of fieldwork across the globe, samuel was many things for both private clients and espionage / government agencies ( mostly doing a lot of infiltration / extraction & surveillance undercover missions ), even sometimes an actual thief for the right price.

however, despite samuel’s slight identity crisis, he earned quite the name for himself in the espionage world and solidified himself as a reliable secret agent. but he’s still a pain in the butt :-P

during blackthorne’s last years, samuel often was asked to come by as a guest instructor, a desperate attempt to liven things back up to relive its better days. despite the absolute DEMONS his students were being, it surprised him that he actually enjoyed teaching.

so, he was a bit shocked ( and ecstatic ) to hear that gallagher requested HIM out of the many blackthorne alumni to be a part of the faculty, let alone the threat elimination instructor. who would be a better teacher to teach future spy how to take down an assassin than an ACTUAL assassin ( and one who made quite a Reputation at blackthorne for outsmarting his upperclassmen and instructors ) ?

𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝙿𝙴𝚁𝚂𝙾𝙽𝙰𝙻𝙸𝚃𝚈.

tbh, samuel is the epitome of ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

he lives for the adrenaline rush; he will go out of his way and even risk his life sometimes to make missions more exciting ... but obviously, with a little planning beforehand to make sure missions are completed successfully

sam surprisingly is cooperative ( even if he really wants to do the opposite, he’d listen unless his quick-wit is essential for the situation ). his many years of experiences have made him realize how important intel and medical agents are to missions. he has a lot of respect for his fellow agents and students who aren’t concentrating their studies in the more physical combative majors

samuel likes being a nuisance. he’s quite devious and gets away with it a lot LMAO

he’s such a thespian it’s Unreal ... he’s so dramatic. but, this makes him excel at undercover missions bc this man enjoys acting way too much

samuel LOVES his students and it really cracks him up because if blackthorne student sam heard he’d be a mentor in the future, he’d laugh in your face

aka he’s the Cool Teacher at gallagher ok :’)

𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝙳𝙾𝚂𝚂𝙸𝙴𝚁 / 𝙵𝚄𝙽 𝙵𝙰𝙲𝚃𝚂.

he still has the slightest french accent when he speaks, mostly to latch on to a remaining attachment he has to his mother and previous “ normal life ”

an excellent cook ... obviously he enjoys cooking french cuisine the most

he also is an avid art enthusiast and also loves fashion and architecture. he spends the majority of his salary on designer clothes and art pieces

if the faculty have to become normal professors, samuel is definitely up for teaching anything world history related !!

randomly knows a lot of natural history trivia thanks to his maternal grandmother, who was a botanist

the languages samuel currently knows is: french, english, spanish, italian, russian, german, arabic, japanese, and chinese ( mandarin & cantonese )

and that’s it !! im exhuasted and i can’t think of any wcs atm so pls if u guys have anything in mine PLEASE let me know :’)

#『 ✰ ｡ . * » ┇ 𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙚𝙡𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙚𝙤𝙪𝙨 ╱ ooc. 』#gallagher:intro #this is So Long ... im SORRY

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