Tumgik
#you ever just. make yourself sad with what you write.
catsrsupersonic · 3 days
Text
make it with love
Jack Hughes x Reader
W/C: about 1k
Notes: saw an Instagram post asking women what their most dramatic moments in pregnancy and decided to write this based off one that I saw that made me giggle.
As always, be kind! Constructive criticism is always welcome! Wage peace xx
*
You and Jack had found out you were pregnant nearly 7 months ago now, which means you were close to the end of your pregnancy. Despite the physical and emotional difficulties of this journey, Jack had been your rock. He was truly the most attentive and magical boyfriend in the world. He always tried to accommodate to your needs even when you were being a hormonal mess crying about the smell of coffee and the fact that the taco bell worker put sour cream in your tacos when you hate sour cream. He’d switched to drinking tea at your first complaint and ordered you more tacos immediately just to make you happy. You loved him so much. He meant the world.
However, sometimes you took advantage of your lovely boyfriend’s willingness to please you and begged him for every craving you desired, and he obliged with little complaint. Except for tonight.
You had both gone to bed four hours ago, the clock reading 2:42am last time you looked to check. But you couldn’t sleep. Your thoughts were consumed by the delicious grilled cheese sandwich Jack made for you at least once every two weeks. It was your favourite food ever, just because he made it. It was special because it was just for you. No one else got to taste the delicacy that was your boyfriends secret sandwich making talent and there was nothing you desired more in this moment.
You decided you couldn’t take it anymore and rolled over propping yourself up on the side with your elbow, admiring the sleeping beauty before you and lightly rubbing your belly. Him and his little girl were going to be inseparable, and he was going to be the best father. You could feel it in you bones and you could feel your baby moving towards his touch every time he touched your belly. You lightly brushed the messy curls from his beautiful face and let your touch linger on his cheek. His slight stirring reminded you of why you had turned around in the first place and you shook his shoulder lightly, “J, baby?” you whispered into the darkness.
“Hmm...” he replied, his eyes still shut. You prodded him again and said his name once more, in a slightly whinier tone. He let out a huff and moved to prop himself up. With a sleepy voice he asked, “What do you need, baby?” while he admired the features on your face.
With a shy smile you quietly made your request. “Please will you make me one of your grilled sandwiches I’m starving and have been craving one all night. Please Baby” you plead with him, stroking his cheek as you asked knowing physical touch is his weakness.
He let out a heavy sigh and stood up, pulling some sweats on, “This is so annoying, baby, its literally nearly three in the morning” he continued as he walked out of the door presumable to the kitchen. Suddenly you felt a pang of guilt in your heart. You were sad that he was annoyed at you and wished you’d just let him sleep and deal with the craving instead of bothering him. Some time had passed where you continued to sit on your shared bed and feel guilty when he walked back into the room still with a slightly annoyed look on his face and placed the plate down on the table and stood with his hands on his hips waiting for you to eat.
You looked at the plate of food and then back at his face and all of a sudden it was too much. Out of no where your lip started trembling and your eyes glassed over as you held the tears in. jack, being the gorgeous boyfriend he is, was quick to notice the sadness in your eyes and his expression morphed into that of concern as he inched closer to you, sitting on the bed. Seeing his face change, you burst into tears, immediately covering your face with your hands, and moving away from the comfort jack was trying to give you as to not burden him anymore.
“Hey. Hey Baby... what’s wrong lovely?” he coaxed as he gently tugged your arms away from your face and pulled you into a tender embrace. You continued to sob in his arms as he tried again to get an answer out of you. “Please baby, tell me what I did wrong.”
You looked at him and then at the sandwich on the table as you continued to sniffle. “It’s not special anymore,” you answered. “You were annoyed with me, so it wasn’t made with love which is what makes it so special to me.” At you confession your tears began again, and you covered your face with your hands again to hide from Jack who had begun laughing at your antics.
“Baby.” He began, “baby, look at me.” And you did. He had a soft smile on his face as he wiped your tears away. “I made it with so much love. So much. My heart is overflowing with admiration and adoration for you and our girl, and I would happily do anything to make your life a little easier while you’re growing our princess in there.” He wiped away all remaining tears from your face and handed you half of the sandwich.
You took a bite and immediately sagged back against the headboard and closed your eyes in contentment. It was the most beautiful, love filled sandwich you had ever tasted in your life, and you couldn’t get enough you only allowed Jack one small bite as you wanted the whole thing to yourself.
Once you were finished you both laid back in bed, you cuddled into his side trying not to irritate him with your bump. You sighed again, this time in bliss as you revelled in your boyfriend’s love. “I really do love you; you know. I can’t wait to start our family together, J.”
At your words he leaned down and kissed you gently. “I love you too, more than anything. Both of you” and as he said the last part, he rubbed the swell of your belly and you both fell back to sleep.
*
This made me so goddamn hungry
149 notes · View notes
jedi-hawkins · 2 days
Text
Tumblr media
Raining Flowers
The Clones all deserve flowers! Or maybe they think you deserve flowers 😉 Either way, love is in bloom this week for the Clone Flowers Fic Event!
Throughout this week, May 20th-25th, certain participants will be posting their own fics of Clones and different flower themes that were selected! The participants as well as the Clones and flowers they will be writing for are listed below and links to each fic will be added as they are posted! 💐 Follow the tag #cloneflowerficevent to see them all as they come!!
Event Masterlist
@arctrooper69 - Tup, Rex, Gregor @photogirl894 - Hunter, Wrecker, Fives @nahoney22 - Fox, Tech @totallyunidentified - 99, Cody @dragonrider9905 - Hardcase @l-lend - Wolffe @moonstrider9904 - Howzer @eyecandyeoz - Waxer
Make sure to go check out their entries too, we'll be posting throughout the week!
Pairing: Echo x fem Jedi!reader
Chosen Flower: Cherry Blossoms
Word count: 3.7k
Rating: PG-13
Warnings/Notes: Mentions of death, mourning, disordered eating/recovery, nightmares, all canon trauma related to Echo's Techno Union arc, suggestive fluff, some swearing, reader has hair, friends (idiots) to lovers, mutual pining, a bit of angst
Beta-read by @photogirl894
Tumblr media
As a Jedi Master you’re always being run hither and yon throughout the galaxy. Your most recent assignment has you on Naboo as head of security for a symposium of senators. Your squad of support troopers is set to arrive later today. 
You have to admit, you’re a little nervous. The squad that’s being sent is Clone Force 99. You’ve worked with them before and get along with them well enough, but the thought of their newest member is what’s making your stomach churn.
Echo. You knew him before the mission that killed him, before he was even recruited for the 501st. He was your closest friend and confidant. After his valiant efforts on the Rishi Moon Outpost he was stationed on your Venator. You quickly recognized his skill for strategy and recruited him as your personal tactics advisor along with his twin, Fives. No matter how bad of a day you had, dinner and a walk with Echo always lifted your spirits. 
Then Rex had to steal your Domino twins from you. You were so proud of them and you knew Anakin was gaining two of the best soldiers you’d ever seen, but you were still sad to see them go. You still kept in touch with Echo, you could always count on at least one holocall a week. You’d just fill each other in on the happenings in your lives, brainstorm war issues that were giving you trouble, talk about everything and nothing all at once. You were able to see him a couple times when you were sent to work with the 501st and it was always like no time had passed.
Then the Citadel happened.
You didn’t let anyone see you cry for him. A Jedi mourning a single clone? It felt like not many would understand, and the war was still raging. You had to move on with your head held high, and yet you were numb for months.
Fives kept in touch with you, you offered your condolences, but held it together for him. The two of you would share a holocall every month or so to catch up and reminisce in memories of Echo but it still wasn’t quite the same. Even though your best friend was gone, you found yourself talking to him under your breath about your day, just like those weekly holocalls. 
Eventually the pain faded to just a dull ache in the background. Then Fives went rogue and was ‘decommissioned’ as the report put it. The last tie you had to Echo was gone. The Chancellor held that report under lock and key, so once again you mourned one of your Domino Twins with little comfort. 
The numbness took over again, but this time it didn’t linger for quite as long. Just when you got to the point that memories of Echo and Fives  brought happy tears, you got the comm from Anakin. They found Echo. 
The guilt nearly swallowed you whole. Echo had been alive this whole time and you didn’t know. They mounted a rescue for him and you weren’t told. His recovery happened and you weren’t there. Today would be the first time you’d seen or spoken to him since your last holocall before the Citadel. You couldn’t help but wonder, ‘Why hadn’t he reached out to you before now?’ 
You had kept to yourself partly because you were being run into the ground by the Council, but also because you wanted to give him space. You weren’t sure he even remembered you. Would he still be your Echo? 
Rex knew what Echo had meant to you and commed directly after they rescued him to fill you in more than Anakin had. He didn’t reveal much more, but he had let you know that the Techno Union did things to him. That he looked different, that he was found with a lot of integrated mechanics. That was months ago, and you hadn’t heard much since. 
So here you were, anxiously wringing your hands awaiting the arrival of Squad 99. 
You recognize their ship as they land, thankfully they scrubbed their nose art off before this mission. Probably with some convincing from Anakin. The ramp lowers and Sergeant Hunter disembarks to meet you. 
You quickly run him through the plan for today. The symposium isn’t until tomorrow, but it is up to you to survey the venue to note ‘problem areas’ and make sure nothing is compromised. 
Hunter suggests that Wrecker and Crosshair pair off and that he’ll go with Tech. He gives you an all-knowing look when you do the math of who’s left. You’d mentioned Echo in passing before to Hunter while on missions. When he commed to debrief about this mission, he asked how you were and suddenly you were spilling nearly everything about your history with Echo. Hunter had assured you his squad was taking care of him and that your worries would stay between the two of you. 
“You two need the time to talk.” Hunter muttered, squeezing your shoulder and calling to his brothers. 
You’re left waiting at the bottom of the ramp for a few more minutes before a figure appears in the Marauder’s door. Your stomach drops at the sight of him. 
He looks so different. New metal legs shine in the sunlight, and a scomp link is where his right hand used to be. ‘No more double wielding,’  you think to yourself. His new armor is red and black, Batch colors. Your heart does warm at the sight of the kama he’s wearing, at least he hasn’t forgotten that he’s still an ARC. His new helmet is tucked under his scomp arm. 
His eyes brighten when he sees you. Mechanical studs for Maker knows what dot his scalp, but even though his skin is much paler and his face is sunken in, those are still the same amber eyes that you’ve sought comfort in so many times. 
Your voice is shaky at first. “E-Echo?”
Some color spreads across the bridge of his nose as he rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, d-different I know. You look good though.” 
You smile at his compliment and lead the way to the side of the venue you two will be surveying. At first you walk in silence, neither of you really sure how to bridge the gap between you. You want to ask him how he’s been, how his recovery went, explain how sorry you are for not being there, but the words keep getting stuck in your throat. 
You open your mouth to say something, but Echo beats you to it. “Do you still like roast bantha?” 
“Y-yeah?” You respond, a little taken aback by his odd question. “Why?”
He shrugs “Because I had some the other week and it was the first real meal I enjoyed since returning.” 
“It was my favorite, still is.” 
“I remember.” Echo gives you a sideways glance. “You can ask, I know you want to.” 
Of course he knew what you were thinking. You go back to wringing your hands. “I- I want to apologize first. I didn’t even know a rescue was happening, I should have been there but no one told me. I was off the grid on Taris.” 
Once the words start, they don’t stop. “Anakin commed me after they got you out but they didn’t let me see you on Coruscant. Then you were reassigned and I didn’t know where you were. I’m sorry I should have reached out, but I wanted to give you space. I didn’t know if you remembered me...” 
Echo stops you by resting his hand on your shoulder.. “It’s okay, really. You don’t need to apologize. I had a whole army of people fussing over me. I should have reached out, that was on me. I just didn’t know how you’d feel about all… this” He says gesturing to himself. 
“Oh Echo, no. I don’t care about that. I was just so worried, I just wanted you to be okay.” You say hurriedly. “Are you- are you okay?”
He nods, turning to start walking again. “I am, there’s been some adjustments but I’m getting used to it.” 
You tilt your head curiously, “Tell me about it. If you feel comfortable.” 
“Of course I feel comf-'' His words are cut off when he stumbles on the stone path beneath your feet. “Well that’s one thing. These damn legs. The Techno Union gave me some rudimentary ones, but these are much more complex. They’re heavier and made me a couple inches taller too. I probably looked like a newborn fathier for the first couple weeks.” 
You stifle a snicker and Echo notices. 
“You can laugh, really.” He reassures you. “I missed that laugh of yours. You always shared my sense of humor.” 
“Did they hurt?” You wonder aloud, glancing down at his metal thigh. 
He shrugs, “Nah, not really. They’re wired up so that I can feel some sensation of moving but I can’t really register touch, it’s more of a dull pressure. Sometimes I’ll get some weird feelings, like an ache or an itch in my leg that’s not there, Tech called it ‘phantom pains.’ The most annoying thing is that I always feel warm now from the mechanics in me.” 
Echo can see the curiosity glinting in your eyes. “Here.” He says, halting and propping his foot up on a nearby garden wall. He moves his kama out of the way before he gently takes your hand and presses your hand to his left thigh. 
You can feel the warmth under your palm. It’s not quite like the warmth from human skin, but it’s not like the warmth from a databank either. It reminds you of the warmth of your lightsaber, you can still feel Echo’s life force pulsing under your touch. 
“Incredible.” You mutter as he readjusts himself. “I remember you were always freezing before.” 
He chuckles. “Yeah, I suppose I was. I would always steal Fives’ blankets.”
Your heart pangs at the mention of Echo’s twin. “Rex told you, I assume?” 
“Yeah. He did.” Echo sighs. “Said something in his and Tup’s heads malfunctioned but couldn’t tell me much else. We had a little memorial for them.” 
“That’s nice. I wasn’t there when it happened, he and I talked about you a lot.” 
“I know he definitely would have had a few jokes about this.” Echo says waving his scomp link, trying to lighten the mood. 
Your brow scrunches. “I’m surprised Anakin didn’t offer to make you a hand like his.” 
“He did, I just thought I’d keep the scomp. Means we don’t have to lug around an astromec to get into places. I don’t mind it, it’s all right.” A sly smirk spreads across his face.
You groan at him. “Was that a kriffing joke?” You say, fully laughing at him. “You’re terrible. Fives would be proud.”
Echo’s laughter joins yours. “Yeah, he would’ve nearly pissed himself watching me figure this thing out. One morning I nearly took my eye out trying to rub it with this.” 
You cover your mouth and groan at the thought as Echo continues. 
“Another time I was enjoying some morning caf and leaned on the counter, only I forgot I didn’t have a hand anymore and the scomp slipped. Fell flat on my face and I smelled like caf all day.” 
Again, your laughter starts back up at the mental image. “The Batch, are they treating you well?” You ask between giggles. 
“They are.” Echo says with a nod. “They’ve really helped me through some of the rough parts.” 
“Oh?”
“Well of course Tech has helped me figure out the kinks of my new mechanics.” Echo shrugs. “But he also really helped me with speech. For a while my mind was a bit jumbled. My thoughts were broken with old battle strategies, the data Techno Union kept pulling. I would lose the word for something right before I said it, use the wrong word, misunderstand what someone was saying. Tech helped me realize that my brain had literally been damaged, rewired, and that it would take time to come back from that. When I didn’t have the words, he had them for me. Others may find his tendency to finish peoples’ sentences a bit annoying, but I was thankful for it. Saved me a lot of frustration when I was trying to communicate early on.” 
“I’ve always found that trait of his endearing.” You reply, not wanting to stunt Echo’s sharing. 
“And Hunter’s great too. It’s been kind of nice having someone else in charge. He talked to me about it, acknowledged that I had more wartime experience than him, but he knew I needed to take a step back and heal, not be the one with all the answers.”
You smile at his mention of the Sergeant’s intentions. “Hunter has a big heart, he sees a lot more than you’d think.” 
Echo nods. “He helped me with other things too. I sometimes get these electronic migraines. Tech thinks they happen when the mechanics in my head overstimulate the electrical activity of my brain but he couldn’t really figure out a solution. Hunter did though, since he gets migraines himself. Showed me his whole care routine to shorten them and ride it out.” 
Memories of the time you witnessed one of Hunter’s migraines make you wince. “I hope they’re not too bad.” 
“No, not with their help. The hardest thing to figure out was how to gain weight again.” 
“Really? I wouldn’t have guessed, I mean you look…” Your words are lost as you gesture to him. 
He gives you a sly look, but continues without comment. “Yeah. Food just wasn’t the same for me when I woke up. I don’t really understand the science behind it, but I wasn’t fed in Purkoll. They must have been giving me something but when I woke up I was emaciated and, I just didn’t have an interest in food. The appetite came back pretty quick as I started being more active, but I just couldn’t find stuff that made me want to eat. I mentioned the Bantha roast, that was Wrecker’s idea since he remembered you making it one time on mission. He’s been a big help in finding things I like. He also has this way of packing an insane amount of calories and protein into a meal. He was also pretty big in helping me regain muscle mass. Surprisingly, or maybe not, he was always the one to check in on me, make sure I wasn’t being pushed too hard.” 
You smile. “Wrecker is a sweetheart, and he does have a way with food. He can make those GAR ration packs taste better than anyone. He has a way with people too.” 
“His workouts are intense, though.” Echo jokes.
“Tell me about it.” You shake your head. “I hope Crosshair hasn’t given you too much trouble. He can be intense in a different way.” 
“Crosshair?” Echo repeats. “Nah, he’s okay. He gives me shit like he does everyone else. He was a nice change from all the doctors fussing over me. He didn’t look at me like I was fragile. He didn’t treat me like I was going to break at any second, even when he…” Echo trails off, but you can sense his thoughts. 
“You have nightmares don’t you.” You state gently. 
Echo nods. “One of the first nights I was with them I had this dream. I was back there in that city being taken apart and pieced back together again; having my mind played with. I’m pretty sure I was talking in my sleep, yelling more likely. When I woke up I saw Crosshair was on watch, but he had his back turned to me. He didn’t say anything the next day and neither did the others. I don’t know if they heard me because they’re all heavy sleepers, or if Crosshair told them not to say anything. I don’t know if he’s been doing it on purpose, but he always takes watch when it’s my turn to sleep. Whenever I’m napping too, he’s always there with his back to me. It helped with the dreams, knowing I had someone watching for me.” 
“Echo…” You mutter, unsure of what to say. You want to comfort him, but what could you do for him that his squad hasn’t already? He’s healing without you.
A breeze picks up before you find the words causing soft pink flowers to start raining down on the two of you from the trees above. You move to brush them out of your hair, but Echo’s hand wraps around your wrist to stop you. 
“No, leave them.” He says, “They’re pretty.” 
You bow your face to try to hide the warmth rising in your cheeks as Echo guides you to a nearby bench. 
“Sit with me for a moment?” His voice is timid.
“Of course.”
“You helped me too, you know.” Echo says, tracing his fingers over your palm. 
“How could I possibly have helped you?” You sigh, trying and failing at hiding the sadness in your voice. “I wasn’t there, haven’t been there.”
“But you have.” Echo insists. “It’s hard to explain, but in Purkoll I had these moments where it was almost like I was myself again. It was probably in the lulls when the Separatists weren’t accessing my memories. In those moments I talked to you, like we used to. I talked about my days, reminisced about the good times, funny memories. I think it’s what kept me from losing myself entirely. And when I woke up… I sort of kept doing it. The Batch is great, but they didn’t know me before, you know? They’ve never known me as anything other than this.” 
Echo gestures to himself with his scomp before continuing. “And Rex, he did, but staying with him felt like it would’ve been a step backwards. I needed to move on, but I didn’t want to forget who I was, you knew me better than anyone, even Fives. There were days when it felt like I would never recover, never be the elite soldier I once was. Those were the days I talked to you the most, imagined what you’d say back to me. In my mind you’d let me have my pity party, then tell me to get my ass in gear. I should’ve just commed you for the real conversation, but I was a coward. I was afraid that you’d look at me like I was broken, so I kept you in my head. I hope that’s not weird…”  He trails off.
You don’t even know what to say as your chest fills with awe. All this time, he’s been talking to you? 
Echo gently tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “These flowers suit you.” He says gently, filling the silence.
You glance up at the tree above you and hum to yourself. “They’re cherry blossoms. Fitting.” 
“How so?”
“They’re a symbol of rebirth and new beginnings.” You explain. “Echo, it’s not weird or cowardly that you’ve been talking to me. I’ve been doing the same actually. I thought about comming you every day after Anakin and Rex told me they found you, but I was so terrified you wouldn’t remember me.”
He gently grasps your chin with his thumb and forefinger to raise your eyes to his. “I could never forget you. You were the tether that kept me, me. I wish we hadn’t wasted time getting back in touch.” 
A light laugh passes through your nose. “Another lesson of the cherry blossoms. They bloom for only few days and remind us that life is fleeting.” 
“If life is fleeting, then I guess I should go ahead and do this.” Echo mutters before leaning towards you. 
He’s timid at first when your lips connect, but grows more bold as the seconds melt into minutes. You can feel his scomp arm pull you closer as his hand tousles in your hair. There’s a tiny voice in the back of your head chastising you, ‘Jedi cannot have selfish attachments.’ You immediately push it aside. 
This, the love you have for Echo is no selfish attachment. You already lost him once, you mourned him and never turned from the light. He was your light. Your confidence builds as his tongue begins to explore yours, the garden around you fading away. The feelings you both harbored for each other all these years are finally confessed without a single word being spoken. It’s just you.
You don’t even know how long you two have been tangled in each other when you can hear a faint beeping coming from Echo’s bracer. He must have heard it too because he breaks away from you with a grumble before answering the comm.
“Echo, go.” He answers.
‘Echo, it’s Hunter. We’ve all finished our surveillance and are back at the Marauder, what’s your status?” 
Echo’s eyes flit to you with your hand pressed over your mouth trying to keep from laughing. “We-uhhh got dis- duh… sah-sidetracked. Something suspicious we had to investigate.” 
From the tiny snicker Hunter lets slip you can tell he doesn’t buy it. ‘Alright, we’ll keep your rations warm. Will the General be joining us?’
“Sure Hunter, I’d love to.” You call before Echo can answer. 
‘Sounds like a plan. Don’t take too long or you’ll kiss- I mean miss dinner.’ 
“Womp-rat bastard.” Echo grumbles when Hunter ends the call. 
You nearly keel over with laughter at Hunter’s comment and the expression Echo has on his face. 
“I’m glad you find this amusing. How in Sith’s Hells did he even know?” He says, obviously trying to keep a straight face.
“Oh please.” You say, grinning. “Hunter’s literally enhanced to sense everything, he got us good. Come on,” you say, standing up. “Let’s finish our round so we can go eat.” 
Echo stands shaking his head, but he takes your hand and gestures further down the path. “After you, ner sarad.”
“That’s mando, I recognize it.” You say over your shoulder. “What does it mean?”
Echo smiles at you, his eyes, those same old eyes lighting up. “I'll tell you all about it.
Tumblr media
100 notes · View notes
swmgsillystuff7 · 2 days
Text
Slight vent involving vore.
Do you ever just feel so weak, just like so very low? And all you want is to be comforted?
Have someone scoop you up into their grasp, ask you what’s wrong…they look down at you with a gentle gaze as you tell them what’s wrong. Using their thumb to whip away your tears, using their shirt to dry your wet cheeks. They talk to you in a soft affectionate tone and they hold you close to their face. Their warm breath slipping from their lips and brushing up again your face, telling you that everything is ok…that they are proud of you. Eventually they ask if you would like to be tucked away within them,you say yes. They give you a warm smile , opening up their maw but not shoving you in. Instead they let you take your time to get inside. Letting you lie down on their soft tongue before finally closing their mouth. As much as they want to savor your taste they don’t want to keep you waiting, so they swallow. Trying to be as gentle as possible, finally you slip into their plush gut…the warmth isn’t overwhelming but it is kinda warm. The walls are soft and mold to accommodate you. The pred glances down at their now full belly, placing a hand over it and gently rubs. They can feel you shifting around to find a comfortable position, they smile when you finally find the right spot. they say a few nice things before finally asking if you are comfy, you are too tired to respond but they take it as a yes.
Despite you feeling sad…you don’t feel so lonely anymore. You feel loved and cared for..for just being yourself. You are being cradled by someone who loves you very much, and doesn’t like to see you so upset. So they tuck you away from the outside world so it’s just you and them…a little place just for you.
(Idk I just kinda wanted to write something that I like…really need…I’ve been feeling down but the thought of THIS makes me happy:] )
31 notes · View notes
legionofpotatoes · 6 months
Text
gareth edwards 🤝 david cage
total inability to grasp the function of AI as a metaphor in sci fi storytelling as well as an overall lack of sensitivity towards geopolitical allegory within their childlike both-sides wankery that is too poorly removed from real-life aesthetics to be taken at face value
11 notes · View notes
the-kipsabian · 11 months
Text
its a sad day when you see a person you know is good and creative to use ai tools to make art
6 notes · View notes
gloryinthunder · 6 months
Text
I used to really love the first romance scene with Astarion (and I still do) but it hits so much harder after you know why he's doing it. That he's purposefully seducing you for protection and blood, that he's forcing himself to sleep with you, and this is a mask he's wearing.
It's a sexy scene and really feeds into the vampy (pun intended) jump-your-bones version of him you get at the start of the game. The whole thing starts out with him being so confident and suave, saying that he's wanted you ever since he set eyes on you and how you want to be known and tasted. It's like everyone's perfect vampire romance novel.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
He's laying out the bait that's worked thousands of times over and luring you in. And you can just get right to the kissing if you want.
But, you can also stop and ask him, "And what do you want?"
And for just a moment the mask drops. This is not the same cocky seductive face we've had up until now. This is vulnerability showing. When has anyone asked him what he wants? When has anyone cared? Does he even know the answer to that question?
Tumblr media Tumblr media
So he pivots. The mask snaps back into place immediately. He turns back into the master seducer and feeds you a line about shared ecstasy to get you back on track.
And then comes what is, to me, the pivotal moment. He asks you "That's what you want, isn't it? To lose yourself in me?"
Looking at his body language he seems unsure at first, maybe questioning his previous tactics. Then he slightly cowers back, lowering himself as he asks the question. The total opposite of his confidence from earlier where he's standing with his arms out wide.
He's not sure what you want anymore. You're not playing by the rules he knows. Why haven't you taken the bait yet? Why haven't you thrown yourself at him?
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
And when you finally Nod in agreement, confirming you're here for sex?
This. This is the face he gives you. He just looks so damn sad. To me, it hearkens back to "Of course it'll turn me into a monster. What else did I expect?"
Whatever momentary blip made him question why you're there with him, he's just been reassured about both of your roles in this situation.
He sounds so quietly resigned when he answers: "I thought so."
Tumblr media Tumblr media
And then the scene transitions into the actual act. I do like to think Astarion enjoyed himself as I'm sure the PC did, but it's hard for me to watch this scene now that I know his story and history without being uncomfortable.
Just that line "lose yourself in me" is so difficult to hear. Because on paper it's so sensual. Who wouldn't want a lover to feel that way about them? But knowing the context of what Astarion expects and believes in this moment is just... oof.
And to me, this is what makes this scene brilliant. The writing, voice acting, and the mocap/animation are all just SO GOOD. It's so delicately done and Astarion the character is so good at playing a role that you can completely gloss over the deeper stuff. But once the mask is eventually stripped away you can't help but see what was there the whole time.
And as we've established, being seen is a whole aspect of Astarion's romance arc.
I originally romanced Astarion for the same reasons I'm sure most did: he's a hot, sexy vampire elf (i.e. everything that's on the surface). But, I keep coming back to him over and over again for the person I know is waiting for me underneath the mask.
9K notes · View notes
the-emerald-guard · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
Ai bros are having a normal one
0 notes
erwinsvow · 16 days
Note
little sad bitchy!reader moment: her and rafe are at the country club with topper and kelce and some other friends of rafe and one of the guys starts saying how she would be a horrible wife and mother (bc of the way she is) and she honestly is so hurt by it and i think she would almost try to change the way she is around rafe a little just so he wouldn’t think that about her…
sobbing thinking about it and listening to this (https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTLX2Pdcv/)
hi my love this was so amazing and wonderful to write! im sorry its kinda long, hope you like it ♡
Tumblr media
in all honestly, you stopped caring what people said about you a long time ago. you weren't the way you were because it was funny, or to get a reaction out of others. that was just the way you've always been, and there was nothing you hated more than letting people walk all over you and get away it.
that must be why the comebacks would fly out of your mouth before you could stop them, if you even wanted to stop them. why you never stopped to think twice about the people who didn't want to talk to you again or the boys who didn't want a second date.
you weren't easy to handle, not that you wanted to be, but you knew you weren't.
it seemed easy enough for rafe though.
he never seemed to wish that you'd bite your tongue or tell you to act differently, behave a certain way. no, he'd laugh and fire back something, or agree with you and say something you remember to add to your collection of insults.
rafe liked you as you were. that's why he fought so long and hard to get you, something that you didn't take lightly. you were committed, and the more days that went by, you found yourself softening up more and more with him.
rafe knew a side of you that a select few had ever seen, much less engaged with. you liked it this way, having a boyfriend you could be yourself around and be a little soft around.
until you overhear a boy at the club talking about you. in all your years of life, you've never let a boy make you feel upset, and you didn't want to start now. a comeback brews the second he mentions your name—of course it's the idiot one, the one whose parents pay for his grades and doesn't know anything besides losing at pong and scaring away girls—but it dies in your throat when you hear the words that follow.
"i mean i get it, she's hot, but i don't know how cameron puts up with her."
"what're you talking about? she's just like him," kelce says, and you feel briefly grateful for him.
"dude, she's a bitch. i've never heard one nice thing come out of her mouth. totally untamed. you can't bring a girl like that home to your folks, they'd hate her. especially his folks. and don't even mention long-term. imagine coming home after working all day and your girl is bitching at you? i mean, no offense but what kind of kids is she gonna raise?"
you hear laughter, and when your face feels wet, and you're confused for a moment. you look up at the ceiling, wondering if there's a leak, when your eyes flood again and more tears fall down.
crying, and that too over what one of rafe's friends said about you. this isn't like you. frankly, it's pathetic. those idiotic boys don't know the first thing about you or your relationship with rafe—they don't know the conversations you have and all the things you both agree on and the way he laughs when you fire back at him.
but somehow, feet leading you outside and to your car, fingers texting rafe some excuse for why you went home early, you end up letting it affect you.
rafe comes over the next morning—he texted you something but you didn't reply. worried for a moment about something you've never been concerned with before, you think a nicer girl would have texted him back right away, that you should have texted him back.
he doesn't knock, never does. your parents aren't home but he has your spare key, letting himself in and up to your room. he stops at the doorway, leaning against the frame.
"hey. what happened last night?" he asks it like he doesn't know what happened—which is good, you want it to stay that way. the thing you would have said yesterday bubbles up, coming to your lips. maybe if you'd gotten your head out of your ass, you'd see my text.
"wasn't feeling good. came home."
"you feelin' okay now?" he gets closer to you, and you look up at your boyfriend. i'd be fine but that asshole you already hate ruined my mood. will you run him over in your truck?
"better." you stop for a moment, you don't want him to think something's wrong. "how was your night?" he looks at you a little confused.
"it was fine. borin' without you. kelce asked where you went too."
"y'know i always liked kelce," you say, smiling again. you think you can get better at this.
rafe takes you out for lunch, and then you wanted to go shopping in the afternoon and get your nails done. it's a whole day, and you like spending it with him. you swallow down what your mind usually thinks and opt for being nice instead, polite questions and trepid commentary.
the waiter brings you the wrong drink—and though you're not so much of a bitch to hurl insults at teenager servers, you're normally annoyed enough to say something and get your correct drink. instead you sip it quietly, waiting for rafe to start the conversation. when you don't, he looks at you in that confused way again.
"you okay?"
"yeah. fine. you okay?"
if he thinks something's wrong, he doesn't say anything. at the mall, nothing looks how you want and even the things you like don't feel right. you'd let rafe buy you whatever you want, normally giving him a twirl in the dressing room and thanking him very sweetly.
"you want that dress?" rafe asks, his arm resting on a rack while you comb through mindlessly.
"no, it was too short."
"that's never been an issue before." ha-ha. pervert. looking up my skirt aren't you? knew you were desperately horny for me but this is down bad even for you.
"trying to dress better. and it'll be cold soon."
"hey, look at me." rafe uses his hands on your shoulders to turn you from the clothes, facing him. "you okay baby?"
fuck, you know you messed up. he only calls you that when he's being serious—the rest of the time it's princess, angel, sweetheart. all things that you are definitely not.
"i'm okay. i just don't want it. but thank you." you don't know it, but he thinks you're upset with him, spending the next hour in the nail salon racking his mind for the reason why.
your nails are fine, they look pretty enough. shorter than normal with a clean french manicure, you admire them from a distance. you suddenly feel like crying again, wondering why you didn't get the pink acrylics you like, rhinestones and bows and all the other things that were pretty to look at when you flipped people off.
in rafe's passenger seat after, you keep staring at your hands, feeling another tear slip down. rafe's not looking at you, he's looking ahead, still unsure what was going on.
"baby, if i did something you gotta tell me, i don't like seein' you like this-" when he turns his head to glance at you, you're looking back at him with your pouty face and wet cheeks—two things he's never seen before. "hey. what's wrong?"
you couldn't stop the downpour if you tried—tears falling quick and fast. you hate that anyone's seeing you like this, especially rafe.
rafe is nice to you, and you soften up around him. you didn't really realize that he softens up around you too. he wipes your tears away, keeps a hand on yours the whole time.
"can you talk to me? what's goin' on?"
"yesterday.. one of those guys said that i was a bitch-"
"which one? to your face? when? i'll fuckin' kill him-"
"no, he didn't know i was there. it's not that, i know i am. i don't care about that. he said that-" your voice cracks, something else you hate, that you don't want rafe hearing. "sorry. he said you couldn't bring me home. and that you would hate coming home to me-me being all mean. and that our kids would be mean too."
yes, you're mean. but rafe's mean too, and none of your friends have ever said anything like that about him. you like that he's mean, that he's like you—you think he's the closest thing to a soulmate you could ever find.
"don't fuckin' listen to any of them for a second, got it? they don't know anything."
"rafe, i-"
"no, seriously. they yap because i wasn't there to knock him out. and he says it when you're gone 'cause he knows you'd make him cry if you were there." you sniffle, though you already feel better.
"but i didn't. i started crying instead." you hate even thinking about it.
"s'okay, it happens. but don't believe a word of that shit. i wanna come home to you everyday. hear everything you say. i want all of it."
"really?" you ask him, wiping away your tears, appreciating the hand on your thigh and how sincerely he's looking at you. "i thought you'd be mean if i cried in front of you."
"it's hard enough to be mean to you."
"you're such a sap. should we go get ice cream and braid each others hair after this?" he laughs, and you laugh. "thanks rafey."
"no problem, kid."
"don't call me that." rafe groans, and you smile.
Tumblr media
1K notes · View notes
luveline · 11 days
Text
—you meet Spencer again after losing out on the BAU job. he comforts you while you do your best not to flirt. bombshell!reader, 0.9k
You lose out on the BAU job to Elle Greenaway. It drives you crazy.
You work just as hard as Elle does, you’re professional no matter what Jason Gideon has to say about you, and you know you could do it. You have just as many successes as Elle does.
It makes you feel sick. You tried so, so hard.
I’m sorry, Hotch had said, and at least you’d had his support. He was kind enough to tell you in person. I can’t make the decision without Gideon, and if he thinks you aren’t right for it right now, we’ll have to wait.
Wait. As though Jason Gideon was ever going to change his mind about you.
You open your purse and take out the barrel of your sheer lipstick. Your compact is next. You hold the mirror up and angle your face in the sun, popping the lid off of the lipstick, and pressing its flat end to your bottom lip. The line you draw is perfectly precise. Your hand barely trembles.
You drop the mirror down and rub your lips together slowly. No matter what falls out of your control, you can present yourself to your liking. You can be immaculate. You—
“Hi.”
You look up from your rumination, startled. You’d been thinking so hard someone actually got the run up on you.
“Hi,” you say, tilting your head gently toward your shoulder.
Dr. Spencer Reid stands a polite three feet away from you. He’s suddenly changed. The last time you met him he was wearing his long hair in a side part. Now it’s split down the middle, just a touch shorter at the sides, and he’s wearing glasses.
(He’s wearing glasses!)
You’d thought he was pretty before.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m good,” you say, tempted to call him baby, maybe sweetheart. He’s a sweet looking boy. His sweater vest makes you wanna hold his hand. “Thank you for asking. Why are you asking?”
You talk to him with no derision nor malice, just curiosity.
He frowns. It gives his eyes a sad shine. “I know you wanted the open position. You would’ve been great at it.”
“You think so?” you ask, surprised.
“I’ve seen some of your write ups. We’ve used your summaries in one of our profiles, do you… remember that?”
You send Hotch anything he wants to see.
“I don’t know why Gideon doesn’t like you… He’s so rarely wrong about people, but you’re…” He licks his lips nervously. “You’re– you’re smart. You’re inquisitive. I think you would be an asset to the team, and it’s a shame you didn’t get your chance.”
You’re making him nervous and it isn’t your intention. You put your hands in your lap and stop giving him the look, swapping your amicable smile for a proper friendly one. “Thank you. Is it okay if I call you Spencer? Dr. Spencer Reid is a lot to say at once.”
He laughs, still nervous. “Yeah. Yeah, of course.”
“Spencer, thank you for caring so much, but I’m okay. I think I might still have a chance one day, but with Elle gone, the sex crimes division is going to need me.” You lift your chin. If he’s sought you out to tell you he’s sorry, your premonitions about him when you met a few weeks ago were correct. He’s as kind as he is pretty. “I love your glasses. Are they for reading?”
“I always wore glasses when I was a kid, and then I started working here, and I thought it might make me seem less… childish, if I wore contacts, but they’re the worst.”
You laugh happily. He says it in such a pained voice. “The glasses suit you so much,” you say, shoving your things into your bag and standing. “Did you wanna go for coffee? I need a pick me up before I go back to the office.”
Spencer touches his wrist. “Are you serious?”
“Why wouldn’t I be serious?” you ask, again, without a drop of malice. You’re not stupid, Spencer has all the nervousness of someone who’s been mistreated before, and heartily, and it’s easy to be soft with him not solely because of it, but because he seems so sweet. You could happily be his friend. “Do you like coffee? We could get those hot donuts from the cafeteria, have you tried those?”
You close the little gap between you both and raise your hand carefully to his face. Gentle, you try to pull a stray hair from the hinge of his glasses leg without snapping it.
“You can tell me all the stuff I’m doing wrong.”
“You’re not doing anything wrong,” Spencer says.
“Come on, there has to be something.”
His mouth gives him away. “It’s not that you’re doing it wrong, you’re just– you– you’re not looking at things the…” Your fingertip brushes his cheek as you drop your hand. “…Right way, sometimes.”
“I wanted your recommendations.” You bump his elbow with yours. “I’ll buy you a coffee and you can write me a list. Cool?”
He cleared his throat. “Yes. Cool.”
You’re thinking it’ll be the start of a good friendship. You and Dr. Reid make quite a pair.
1K notes · View notes
moonlitdesertdreams · 1 month
Text
Take the damn shot
A/N: Ohhhhh I've spiraled. Going from Mandalorian fics to writing about a radioactive cowboy with no nose within a couple weeks of each other is totally healthy :) Tags: Fallout, Cooper Howard, Cooper Howard x F!Reader, Cooper Howard x You, Ghoul x Reader WARNINGS: Canon-Typical language and violence. Summary: A single quiet day in the saloon is all you wanted. But somehow, your Ghoul partner is pulling his gun and you're covered in another person's blood. Honestly, it's just typical.
Word Count: 1.7k+
(GIF Credit to @djo)
Tumblr media
The Ghoul hates to admit it, but he needs you.
In the same sick and twisted, goddamned way he needs the Vials to stay sane, he needs you next to him. When poison air grows thick and the scorching sun sinks beyond a brutalized horizon, you’re always at his side. Day in and day out, you stick around. Full of piss and vinegar, ready to take on the fucked up world you’re all stuck in.
And Cooper’s not one for generosity anymore, but he gives you credit a lot of the time. He knows he can be nasty, and you don’t mind one bit. In spite of his callousness and general disregard for safety, you put on a chipper attitude and tug him (sometimes physically) along to the next town.  Outwardly innocent but filled with a mutual hatred for Vault-Tec and what its influence had done to the world and yourself, you’d quickly become his diamond in the rough. 
And you shine particularly bright in the shack of a building the Wasteland called a saloon. You’ve made careful friends with a couple of gray-haired biddies- presumably the owners-  in the back of the room, and chat happily with them. Cooper sits off to the side behind you, a bottle of the local brew dangling between his fingers. He’s content for the first time in a while; ass in a creaky rocking chair and boots kicked up on an old milk crate. The brim of his hat is pulled down to hide the majority of his face, but eyes wander lazily from you to the front door. 
Cooper didn’t think many things were nice any longer, but listening to you prattle on with the women warmed something in his dead heart.
“You’re awfully pretty for this place.” The older of the two women, sporting a single eye and an impressively neat beehive style, compliments you. “Gotta be out of the Vaults with that skin.”
The Ghoul tenses, knowing the mention of your 200-year prison would strike a nerve. 
“Yeah. I’m from before the war, actually.” You say it plainly and chase it down with a swig of liquor. “Fuckin’ Vault-Tec.”
The Ghoul’s familiar with your story, from you finding out about the plan to drop homemade bombs on American citizens to your confrontation with the executive group in Vault 31. Little did you know, you’d be sneaking in with no chance for escape. Cooper tightens his fist at the thought of Hank MacLean shoving you carelessly into a cryopod and slamming the button to lock you in. You’d relayed the story to him with watery eyes, and that’s something he absolutely loathed. He had enough personal beef with Hank that your trauma added to his ever-growing list of things to be absolutely pissed-the-fuck-off about.
Finch and Sparrow, as they were so comically named, clutch their pearls in sadness as you tell your story. They fawn over you, and Cooper makes out a few ‘fuck them Vaulties’ and a ‘well as much as it sucks, we’re glad you made it this far’. You sniff just barely and wipe your eyes. 
“Thanks, ladies. It means a lot.” 
The conversation turns back pleasant for the most part, and you’re enthralled as the women pull you into the town gossip. Cooper begrudgingly gets up to piss, comfy as he was, but stops at your side to hand off his bag first. You take it with a nod, more interested in the rumor mill than his whereabouts for the moment. He swaggers to the back door of the saloon, where wind whips sand against his jeans and patters the leather of his boots with tiny rocks. 
Voices drift out the door from inside as Cooper yanks his zipper back up. 
“Is it true what they say ‘bout Vaulties?” It’s a man’s voice, gruff and demanding in comparison to the happy lilt of yours. “Heard your story and always been… curious.”
“If you listened, you would know I ain’t no Vaultie.” Your reply is instant, but the edge in your voice has Cooper stepping a little faster down the short hallway. He reemerges to the sight of a suspiciously dressed man leaning against the wood beam beside your table, a little too close for comfort. 
“Sure you are, darlin’. I can tell by lookin’ at’chya.” The man’s face is half-covered by a bandanna, and a pair of sand goggles are pushed up on his forehead, “Like they say.. everything’s… softer.”
There’s suddenly a hand landing on your shoulder, and Cooper sees red. His gun is pulled before he knows it, leveling at the man’s forehead. 
“Hands off the girl.” He growls. 
On closer inspection the man is probably close to the age you appear. Above the bandanna, weatherbeaten skin turns into frizzy ginger hair. He’s wearing a typical duster type coat, and the goggles are leaving red marks in his forehead. Cooper decides he’s taken shits more attractive than him. 
Probably smarter, too. 
“Fuck off, Ghoul.” Is the reply Cooper receives, sending  a flash of white-hot anger through his already irradiated body. “I wasn't talkin’ to you.”
It was all too common, being brushed off. At this point in his life, it actually brings a smirk to his face. Your mouth is even tipping up at the edges, having had many interactions with the can of worms this guy was prying open. 
“Listen man, I think you should let it go.” You warn and try to stand from the broken chair you had been carefully perching on. The red-head doesn’t relent, and pushes you back down into the chair. It wobbles dangerously as Cooper stomps closer. The movement prompts your captor to pull his own gun. It’s a crudely made pipe pistol, but able to shoot flying projectiles into your brains nonetheless.
“Get your goddamn hands off her before I decorate that wall with your fuckin’ skull.” Cooper yanks the hammer back on his pistol, hesitating at your close proximity.
The redhead pulls his bandanna down and Cooper watches you lean away as you recognize the scent and characteristics of a Fiend. His teeth are hanging loosely at crooked angles, and the pock marks around his mouth from scratching his skin open drip blood and serous fluid. His gun is trained on Cooper, but he freezes when he sees the Ghoul shift forward. 
“Ah ah ah. How’d you like me to put a bullet in her instead?” The Fiend tugs you to your feet and nuzzles at your hair as he presses the barrel of his gun to your ribs. “I’d love a taste myself.”
The suffocating need to keep you safe and at his side fills Cooper’s corroded veins as you scowl at the Fiend whose nose is pressed dangerously close to your cheek with rotten teeth bared. Rage ignites from the anger he’s already feeling. 
BANG. 
Cooper’s watching when the red spray of blood washes over half the saloon, but still doesn’t quite comprehend what’s happened. His gun didn’t fire, but the scent of ignited powder fills the air. You fall to the floor along with your captor, and the aforementioned rage boils over. He holsters his gun and scrambles to pull you away in the chaos.  
Thankfully, a quick once-over shows you to have no injuries, but the same can’t be said for your attacker. A foot away the Fiend lies still, about five pounds lighter from the gaping hole in his chest. Gore from his wound is splattered thick across your face and neck. Your eyes are pinched closed to avoid anything unsightly entering them, and you lash out blindly when Cooper grasps your arms. 
“Let me go, you rotten bastard!” The Ghoul catches your right hand before it can hook into his jaw, “I’ll kill you myself.”
“Quit squealin’ sunshine, it’s me.” Cooper growls
While he’s getting a handle on your flailing limbs, a shadow covers the both of you. Cooper glances up at the one-eyed old woman who’s sawed-off shotgun is still smoking in her left hand. 
“I know your brain is shrunken and all, but next time take the shot sooner.” She bites. “And feel free to clean up my damn bar.”
Cooper is torn between staring at the older woman- Sparrow, he thinks-  and trying to contain your squirming. He’s not too fragile to admit he really doesn’t want to take a punch from you right now, so he wipes the back of his hand across your eyes and tugs you to sit up beside him. 
“Cooper?”
He huffs a laugh at your incredulous tone and flicks away the remnants of blood littering your skin “The one and only. Open your eyes.”
They flicker open slowly, and you pout at the blood congealing on your clothes. “I just got these pants.”
Cooper sets a hand on your thigh and squeezes gently. “I’ll buy you a new pair. S’Long as you promise not to get Fiend all over those ones too.”
You thrust an elbow into his ribs at the jab and climb to your feet. Cooper follows with a dramatic groan. 
“Old man.” You tease over your shoulder, observing the carnage from Sparrow’s well-aimed shot. A kick to the corpses’ ribs follows, sending a splatter of blood across Cooper’s pants. You shoot him an insincerely apologetic look. “She’s right, you know.”
The Ghoul follows your gaze to Sparrow, who’s hollering at any remaining patrons that dare tread too close to the mess, damning them for tracking blood around the bar. 
“‘Bout what?” 
You lean into his space, the scent of blood thick in the air. “Take the damn shot sooner.”
Cooper grabs the back of your neck and yanks you forward in a hard kiss. The blood transfers easily onto his lips, and he licks it off while pulling away. “Fucker deserved more than one shot.”
Possessiveness floods his mind and he squeezes the soft flesh beneath his fingers. 
“I’da strung him up by his balls if I got my hands on him.” He mutters, tracing another finger through the blood and popping it into his mouth. “After grabbin’ onto you like that.”
You lean into his chest and let a smile curl the corners of your lips up. “All for little ol’ me?”
The Ghoul pinches your bloody cheek. “Anything for you, sweetheart.”
-------------------
thanks for reading, much love ❤
Read More: Fallout Masterlist
2K notes · View notes
Prettiest Witch at Hogwarts (Theodore Nott x fem!reader)
Tumblr media
Warnings: small italian!thoe, friends to lovers, comfort, angst, cussing, flirting, bad writing
a/n- this was not a request, but I did have a really good time writing it! I love this fic so much for no reason
word count- 847
“You, my dear, are the prettiest girl I have ever met,” Pansy said, dropping her voice an octave, reenacting what a boy had done to you today in an attempt to woo you. Her hand brushing your cheek the same way the boy had attempted to do makes you burst out in a loud laughter, causing the rest of the group to follow along.
“The poor bloke! Did he seriously think that would work?” Mattheo cackles, wiping a tear from his eye.
“I swear, I can never get a break! You four are the only boys that don’t chase after me!” You sigh, leaning back into the cushion of the couch, unbeknownst to you Pansy sends Theo a small smirk with raised eyebrows. Pansy was the only person that knew about your mild crush on Theodore Nott, your best friend. Pansy and Mattheo both knew that Theo has been in love with you for years. To everyone though, it was obvious that the lingering glances meant more than friends to the both of you.
The group decided to spend the rest of the night making fun of all of the boys that have tried to get with you since your growth spurt in 4th year.
“You’re gonna let me take you out to Hogsmeade, right?” Adriand Pucy, a boy you have rejected over and over since day one, asks you, leaning up against the exit of the Slytherin common room.
“Haven’t I told you no already today?” You reply, stopping and looking up at him with disgust present on your face.
“I know you don’t have a date, so why don’t you just give me a chance, let me take you out,” The boy says, pushing off of the wall in what was supposed to look attractive, ultimately failing in the end though.
“Who told you she doesn’t have a date? Come on bella, lets go,” Theo says, slinging his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer into him, engulfing you in the smell of his expensive-smelling cologne.
“Out of all the boys she could choose you really think she’d pick you? You wouldn’t even be on her top ten,” Pucy says, glaring at the taller boy.
“Merlin Pucy, have some self respect! If you ever thought you had a chance with me you certainly have less of one than before,” you say, giving him the dirtiest look you could possibly muster, and pulling Theo away from him and towards your dorm.
You knew Theo almost better than you knew yourself. Even though Theo was the most handsome boy in the school and had his fair share of women, you knew that the mean words Pucy had said would get to him atelast a little bit. He was a Slytherin, but deep down he was still the sensitive boy you’d known for years.
“Are you alright, Theo?” You ask, sitting on your bed and scooting over so he could have room.
“I should be the one asking you that,” He replied with a sad smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“You know that Pucy is just an asshole right? You would definitely be in at least my top 3,” You say after a couple of seconds, attempting to lighten the mood and make him feel better. 
“You don’t have to lie to make me feel better,” He says, looking at you with his sad blue eyes.
“Theo, I’m not lying,” You answer, scooting towards him to show your sincereness.
“Did one of them tell you?” He says, hurt filling his eyes and his body language rigid.
“Did who tell me what?” You ask, putting a hand on his back to comfort him, his posture relaxing a little.
Theo looks up at you, his eyes softening a little, “You’re so amazing,” He says softly after a couple of seconds of looking at you.
“Oh come on Theo,” You say, blushing slightly, looking up at him through your eyelashes.
“It’s true. You’re so beautiful,” He says, putting some hair behind your ear, and giving you a smile, showing you his beautifully crooked teeth.
“And you are a flirt. To think you’d never chase after me,” You say, giving him the same smile.
“Would I- um, would I really be in the top three guys?” He asks, looking at you with a serious expression.
“I would date you before I even gave another guy even a look,” You reply, giving him a soft look.
“Are you sure about that though? You know I’m kind of a mess up,” He says, looking away from you.
“It means more to me that you think that I’m amazing and beautiful. I don’t think I would even be able to explain to you how it makes me feel when you call me by your stupid Italian nicknames,” You reply, waiting for an answer. You don’t wait long and you don’t get a verbal response. Theo pulls you in and gives you a soft kiss on your lips. It’s not how he kisses girls at parties, it’s soft and full of love and adoration.
2K notes · View notes
cow-smells · 8 months
Text
Worth your While | Opla! Sanji x reader
Request: I've read that you are in the need for some Sanji request or ideas so here's one for a fic :D
The crew gets into a fight ( it can be the Navy or anither pirate crew) and the reader gets badly hit and Sanji just loses his shit seeing the person that he cared for the most getting knocked out?? I just genuinely wanna see Sanji just go ape shit on people because of it XD and maybe hiw the others in the clue will react to seeing Sanji like that? @smolracoon25
Summary: You and Sanji have been playing the flirting game for way too long. When you get injured, Sanji shows a side of himself you had yet to see.
Word count: 2.1k
Warnings: none
A/n: I'm going purely off the live-action so pls have that in mind, also I'm just getting back in to the rhythm of writing after such a long time so sorry if this is poop/ooc/both, love ya :)
Tumblr media
Read on AO3
“Don't you ever take a break?”
Zoro's voice coming from behind startled you, forcing you to break your longing gaze at Sanji who was fishing at the bow of the ship. “Huh?” came your wise response.
Zoro looked from you to Sanji. “You've been making moon eyes at him for months now. Don't you get tired? Or are you waiting for him to take his shift staring at you so that you can clock off?”
You felt heat rising to your cheeks. This was far from the first time crew members commented about you and Sanji's – whatever was going on between you two – but this was the first time Zoro called you out so blatantly.
When you didn't respond, Zoro went on. “I just came to tell you we should be docking soon. I'll leave you the pleasure of telling the cook.” with that, he left.
You closed the book on your lap. You really did have the intention of reading when you first head out to the deck, having some time to kill, but then... you noticed Sanji. At first you thought you'd go sit with him for a while, flirt and banter a little as you always do, but you found yourself absorbed in taking him in instead. He was different when he was alone. The way he looked so focused, so deep in thought when it was just him and the sea. Maybe even a little sad. So different from his usual sunny exterior that he put on when he was with people. Falling in to deep thoughts wondering what he might be thinking about – maybe about you? - you sat and stared, not reading as much as a word.
The book discarded, you felt a spring in your step as you made your way to the ship's chef.
The creaking floorboards alerted your arrival. Sanji turned to see who was creeping up on him, and when he saw you, he set his fishing rod aside as a wide smile grew on his lips, his dimples deepening and making your heart miss a beat. “There's my favourite girl. Come here, let me hear all about your day.” Sanji held his arms open, beckoning you to come sit on his lap.
The flirting was nothing new. When you first joined the Strawhats, Sanji was as flirty to you as he was to any other woman; he did not expect to meet his match in you. You were quick to play along, always one-upping him, dancing along the line that separated playfulness and seriousness, never quite picking a side.
The problem was, in reality, you had chosen a side long ago.
You would flirt and giggle and make him blush but never actually act upon anything. Neither would Sanji. He, however, took your playing along as though it was a battle to be won. Sanji would flirt, you'd reply with something raunchy, he would surprise you with something heartfelt. It was as though he knew exactly where to hit in order to get you a little closer to buckling, every time. As time went on he had become so devoted to your back and forth that you noticed he had gradually abandoned all other efforts flirting with other women, to focus entirely on you.
You had to remind yourself that this was a game to him. An instinct, almost. It hurt to think of your relationship that way, but you had to keep that thought at the forefront of your mind if you didn't want to fall even harder for him.
So you would continue to play along, even if that's all that you could have with him.
You chose not to indulge him completely – that was too dangerous for you – and so you opted to bend a knee over the armrest of his chair. Close, but no contact. “Come on, Sanji,” you bent your head in what felt like a bashful manner and said, “you know I spent all day thinking of you.”
You weren't sure if he was blushing or if that was just your wishful thinking. Composing himself, Sanji wrapped an arm around you to hold your waist, lightly tracing circles on your hip. “I beg of you, darling – next time, come find me instead of just thinking of me. I'll make it worth your while.”
You wanted to ask, how will you make it worth my while? Just to hear Sanji go in to detail of what you've been fantasizing about for months. But instead, you opted for a tamer response. “I came to tell you we're docking soon. Maybe I'll find you then and you could make it worth my while with a drink.”
Without missing a beat, Sanji took hold of your hand, bringing it to his lips. “There's nothing I'd enjoy more.” With that, he kissed your hand, his eyes never leaving yours.
Docking started out normal. Everyone knew what their usual chores were when you reached a town, restocking and fixing so that the ship would be in top condition for its next leg of the journey in your search for the One Piece. So while Sanji went in to town to restock on groceries (you didn't pay much attention to the others), you, Nami and Usopp stayed around the ship to fix up some of the damage it took when you last encountered a rival pirate ship. That also happened to be the reason it was just you three when the same rival pirates noticed your ship docked, ready to take their revenge.
The three of you had your individual talents, but you just weren't enough to hold up against an entire rival crew. They had attacked so suddenly and so fiercely – it didn't take long before you were on the sand, fighting to stay conscious. You lost that fight as you watched Usopp try his best to fight off three attackers at once.
You really thought that would be the end for you. You should have known better; it was Sanji's voice you heard as you regained consciousness, motivating you to open your eyes despite the pain that flooded your body.
The beach area all around you was covered with pirates who were taken down, just like you – only that they were your enemies. You first noticed Nami's orange hair – she seemed to be taking care of a bleeding Usopp, his condition worse than yours. Following Sanji's voice, you found him holding the last one of the rival crew by his shirt, throwing punches like you've never seen him before. It took you aback – thinking about it, you had never seen Sanji use his hands in combat. Too precious – need them for cooking, he'd once told you before adding, the only thing more precious to me is you. It had made you blush at the time before you had laughed him off. Now, you were questioning if it was a joke at all.
The man Sanji was holding wasn't putting up a fight – he was far too battered for that, but Sanji didn't stop. He was too far away for you to understand what he was saying to the guy, but focusing hard, you could just about make out half sentences – "to hit a woman" – "don't deserve to breath" – "finish you" – you searched for the strength to get up and stop him. You had never seen Sanji – your happy, cheerful Sanji – so angry, feral even. It scared you a little; but mostly, you knew Sanji would regret it if he were to kill a man who no longer posed a threat. So you grasped at the sand, forcing your aching bones to pick yourself up. But as you were regaining your balance, Sanji finally threw the man to the sand, a look of disgust painting his handsome features. "Finally made a date with her and you ruined it... You hurt her. You're lucky I don't kill you." The man groaned in pain.
In a sharp change, his features went from anger to concern as he finally left the man and turned to where he last saw you laying. His eyes were full of honest pain, until he saw you on your feet – then they read of hope. "Y/n!" Sanji called, rushing to you as he could see your struggle to stand upright. "You- I-" he scanned your body as he reached you, taking in all visible injuries. "Are you – are you okay? Can I help you?" he reached an arm around your waist, waiting for your approval before he held on to help you stay up, so afraid he might hurt you.
"Thanks." his arm around you really helped you to stay up. It was a practical measure, sure, any one of your crew mates would do the same – but when you look up and meet Sanji's eyes, you know that the tense feeling between you two wouldn't have been replicated with anyone else. "I mean it. You saved us. We'd... I'd be lost without you." at that, Sanji smiled that deep-dimpled smile of his at you, the playfulness not reaching his still-concerned eyes.
"Y/n," he started. "are you really flirting with me, at a time like this?"
It was strange how despite all your injuries, you felt less and less of the pain the longer you leaned in to Sanji, close enough to smell his fragrance. A half-smile reached your lips. You couldn't play this game any longer. "Did you really beat that guy up that bad because he ruined what should have been our... date?"
Sanji tensed, obviously not ready to have this conversation now. His gaze dropped momentarily before he wrapped his other arm around your waist, holding you tightly to him. "I had a hundred reasons to kill him," Sanji said, and you felt disappointment bubbling through you until he continued, "but the most pressing reason is that he ruined our date."
Sanji took the opportunity to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear and you couldn't help but smile so big you were embarrassed by it. "I really wanted that drink with you, away from the ship and everyone else. Just us."
You recomposed yourself. You needed clarity. "I'm not playing anymore, Sanji."
Sanji chuckled. "Fancy that. I was never playing at all."
You must have forgotten how to breath at all when he leaned down, his hand finding a rest on your neck as his thumb caressed your cheek. Nearly a whisper, he asked – "Can I kiss you?"
You leaning in served as the consent he searched for. After months of pining over each other, wondering what it would be like – his lips met yours, in a mixture of softness and passion like you'd never felt before. Forgetting you were injured at all you sneaked your arms around his neck, pulling him in, almost afraid of letting this anticipated moment of passion go. Sanji was more than happy to pull closer, a hand on your lower back holding you impossibly close to him.
The moment did, however, find its end as you heard your Captain whoop and holler from afar. "Yeah! Way to go, Sanji! About damn time!"
Breaking the kiss, Sanji nodded at Luffy, his smile lines prominent as he looked the proudest you'd ever seen him.
The crew was more than happy to make a quick exit that night, preferring to not stay around until the rival crew regained their strength. You were helping Nami untie the ropes anchoring the ship to the dock when she said, "I really thought he was going to kill him earlier." you didn't know how to respond. "I've never seen Sanji like that." Nami managed to untie a knot, and Zoro began pulling the rope up on to the ship. "He's really got it bad for you."
Despite that questionable context, you couldn't help but smile. In a burst of honesty you confessed; "I hope so, because I've got it real bad for him, too."
On cue, the ship's chef leaned over the ships railing, looking down to you. "Y/n, my love!" he called, as though the rest of the crew wasn't surrounding the both of you. "I hope you're finished down there, because I've got a candlelit dinner waiting for you up here. And drinks. You know, to make it worth your while," he finished with a wink.
From behind Sanji you could hear Luffy ask, "What about our dinner? Just because you're lovers now doesn't mean we don't need to eat..."
Sanji sighed and turned away from you, probably to go protect your dinner before Luffy demolished it.
"Right then, let's go," Nami said as you finished untying the last rope. "While there's still food to eat."
And for the first time, you boarded your ship not to find the One Piece or the All Blue – you were just happy to be there, with the man you loved.
6K notes · View notes
flwrstqr · 11 days
Text
enhypen hyung line reaction when you start distancing them
pairings: cold bf!enhypen x fem!reader | genre: fluff, ot7 work, imagines, angst ish| wc: 700+ | warnings: not proofread | an: this is the cutest prompt ever?? also bye why did i write 10x more than i thought. i didn't write all ot7 so sorry anon for that TT, i wrote too much and i thought if i did ot7, it might be a bit overwhelming to read.. may be releasing a maknae line ver soon | LIBRARY FOR MORE... (maknae line)
Tumblr media
이희승 (lhs)
heeseung and you were known for having a somewhat fragile relationship. it wasn’t exactly toxic, but there was a noticeable weakness in your bond. whenever you tried to be affectionate, clinging to heeseung's arm and giving him small kisses, he would soon brush you off, saying he had a call to take. as he left the room, you began to wonder if you were being too clingy or obsessed. after all, heeseung was someone you had liked for months. consumed by overthinking, you decided to avoid heeseung. during dinner, as you prepared the food, heeseung noticed your unusual silence. your mouth was shut tight, and you showed no expression. the only words you said to him were, "come, eat." dinner passed in silence, and now it was heeseung’s turn to overthink. did he do something wrong? was he too cold? after dinner, heeseung retreated to his room, sitting in his usual chair and staring at the ceiling, replaying every conversation he had with you. a pang of guilt struck him as his usually cold demeanor began to melt away. hearing you sobbing quietly in your room, he couldn’t ignore it any longer. he walked in and wrapped his arms around you, and you felt his presence beside you. for the first time, he had a small smile on his face. your eyes were swollen from crying, but he gently wiped your tears and apologized for anything he had done to hurt you . ($U#IOEFHKDLFJ:% im tweaking) in that moment, you realized that heeseung did have a soft side, one that he reserved just for you.
rest of members below the cut !
박종성 (pjy)
you always loved comfort in jay’s presence. your friends often teased you about being clingy, but you often brushed it passed you. one day, hidden behind a corner, you overheard him talking to jungwon. “she's so clingy,” jay said, a hint of annoyance in his voice. the words pierced through you, leaving a sting of hurt. From that moment, you distanced yourself, pulling back from jay’s side. jay felt the change, your silence during dinners, messages becoming more dry and sent on delivered, and how you were always in your room. jay realized his mistake. one day as the two of you quietly were walking home, you felt a pair of fingers intertwine with yours. you turn to find jay's hand sneakily touching yours and grasping it. your eyes widened as you see jay's cheeky smile. "i'm sorry." were the two words you hear first. you realize what he meant as you feel tears falling down, embracing him then and realizing how much he actually did love you.
심재윤 (sjy)
being clingy with jake had always felt normal to you until one night when he called you clingy, unintentionally hurting your feelings and creating distance between you. the word stung, leaving you with a broken heart. locking yourself in your room, you cried for hours. it wasn't until jake realized the impact of his words that things began to change. to make it up to you, he tried everything: apologies, letters, and even attempts to talk it out with you. then, one night, you found one of his letters in front of your door, reading each word through your tears. you realized he truly had a soft spot for you. at the end of the letter, it said, "i love you, so please don't be sad, my angel." how could you not fall in love with him all over again?
박성훈(psh)
the evening air is cool against your skin as you walk with sunghoon, his presence a comforting warmth beside you. but as you enter the restaurant, his remark about your clinginess sends a chill down your spine. you bite your lip as you realize what he meant. throughout dinner, the conversation feels forced, the laughter hollow. he realizes how your voice went more and more quiet through out each conversation. your silence speaking for itself. as you walk back, sunghoon stops under a street lamp, his expression softened by the gentle glow. his apology is hesitant, but his eyes speak volumes. "im sorry, i was being mean, i truly think you're a beautiful person."
1K notes · View notes
neo-nomatrix · 1 year
Text
Hate the AM, Hate the PM, But love you
Hobie Brown x reader
Tumblr media
word count: 969
find the mini series here
tags: @maxjesty @marshallowy @sh-tposter2021 @ilovebhna @ladyagagaslefttoe
synopsis: Hobie is still a slightly infuriating neighbor, but there’s something about that jacket and guitar that are all too familiar.
a/n: DRUNK CONFESSIONS!! Part two of this fic. I wasn’t going to write another part to it but i caved 😔
You stood him up. You fucking stood him up. Hobie spent the entire show looking out into the crowd, ignoring the blinding stage lights, to try and find you. But you were nowhere to be found. He asked so nicely too! Despite his nonchalant attitude it took him so long to build up the courage to ask you out. He had dinner reservations planned, which he has obviously never done, looked up places to get a Mr.Whippy and even found a small secluded area where he could play his guitar for you.
The worst part is how it made him feel. He genuinely liked you and it hurt him to think you didn’t feel the same when he thought you did. So what was his solution? Go out with his mates to a pub until 3 am to drink his feelings. Hobie was a bold drunk, bolder than he usually is. He’s also a sloppy drunk, tripping when he walks and slurring his speech like it’s all one word.
You’re peacefully sleeping in your bed with your spiderman eye mask cuddling with your Spider-Punk plushie. It’s not a random occurrence to hear Hobie stomping his boots late at night but it was different today. You heard his boot buckles dragging across the floor and a loud bang against your door. Not necessarily a knock, more of a body slumped against the wood.
“Love! You in there?!” You hear him yell.
You try your hardest to ignore him but as he keeps yelling and pounding against the wood you start to feel sorry for everyone else on your floor. You force yourself out of bed and towards the front door. As you reluctantly open it a drunken Hobie falls into your flat.
“Hobie get your arse up,” you roll your very tired eyes.
He surprisingly agrees and makes his way to your bed.
Great, you think
He tosses his guitar to your couch and gets into your bed like it’s his. Conveniently throwing the spider-punk plush off the bed. He cuddles up with your blanket and closes his eyes. You cannot let him fall asleep.
“Hobie! Hello? That is my bed. Get out!” You yell at him.
“Why’d you do it?” He whispers.
“What,” you ask, still annoyed.
“You stood me up. I asked you to come to my show and you didn’t. Why,” he asked less of a question and more of a statement.
You sigh, of course you knew that was tonight. In all honesty you don’t quite know why you didn’t go. You weren’t doing anything special and it probably would’ve been nice. But you were scared. Scared of what? You also didn’t know that, you just were.
“I… I don’t know,” you admit.
“Really hurt me, Love. I wanted to see you and take you out on a nice date,” he looked away from you.
Your heart shattered. You knew Hobie liked you but not to that extent. You thought he was just playing around with you and didn’t mean anything by it.
“I’m really sorry, Hobie. We should go out some other time, okay? My treat,” you promise.
“Nah, don’t think i’ll have the time,” He says, clearly less sad than he was a few moments ago.
“Oh yeah? Busy with what? Trying to tear down the government from the inside?” You laugh.
“Of course not, that’s for the first saturday of every month. I’ll be busy being Spiderman,” he says, cuddling closer to your blanket.
You stop immediately. Your mind goes blank, the world around you stops. You’re suddenly much more awake than you have ever been. Hobie is… no you can’t even say it. The man you’ve hated ever since you had moved in was the person you loved more than anything else? That can’t be right, he’s having a laugh. That’s gotta be it.
“I don’t believe in comedy,” you remember him saying.
Fuck. He’s not joking, is he?
“What?” you manage to get out.
“I’ll be busy, being spiderman and all. Yknow who that is right? Don’t know if you noticed but he’s- i mean I’m kinda all over your room,” he lets out a drunk giggle.
He pulls out his mask from the pocket of his jacket and handed it to you.
“See?”
You grab it in disbelief. You run your hand over the spandex in awe. Spiderman is right in front of you, you realize.
Oh. My. God. SPIDERMAN IS RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU.
You just can’t believe the man you’ve idolized for years was in your bed. YOUR BED.
Hobie takes the blanket off of him, lifting up his shirt to reveal his suit. Blue and fucking red material.
“I don’t believe in the labels though. It’s stupid,” He says in the most Hobie way possible.
“You’re a superhero,” you say, still a little shocked.
“No. No, don't say that. I'm not a hero, because calling yourself a hero makes you a self-mythologising, narcissistic autocrat,” He says. God even drunk he’s still a smart ass.
“So you still wanna go out?” He asks.
“What? I just found out you’re fucking Spiderman and that’s what you’re asking me? If I want to go out with you?” You respond.
“I mean what else is there to say? I already know you love me,” he nods to the spiderman memorabilia.
Even in this state he still leaves you speechless.
“Well- yeah I guess. We can go out,” you say slowly.
“Cool,” he nods.
He lifts up the blanket and scoots over, inviting you into your bed with him. You roll your eyes and get in with him. He wraps his arms around you and smiles.
“I knew you wanted to snog me from the start,” he laughs.
Hobie is still pretty infuriating, but that is slowly becoming one of your favorite things about him.
7K notes · View notes
cerisereids · 2 months
Text
𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗯𝘂𝗻𝗻𝘆 𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗰𝗶𝗮𝗹- 𝘀.𝗿.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairing- dad!spencer reid x mom!reader
summary- spencer reid is the best girl dad on the planet
warnings- hurt/comfort and fluff, post s15!spencer- he is no longer with the bau but there are references to his time there, lowkey some angst bc apparently i can’t write anything for spencer without him being sad, spencer’s daddy issues, a lil makin out/grinding, brief discussion of sex/baby making
a/n- divider from @real-afterglow! happy easter to everyone who celebrates! here’s a cute little thing about girl dad!spencer :)
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
spencer reid’s bottom lip is tucked between his teeth, his eyebrows furrowed together. usually, this look of concentration was reserved for intense cases, ones spent pouring over complex documents into late hours of the night. tonight, however, he’s traded serial killers for pastel eggs, taunting him from the kitchen table. spencer’s engaging in an intense staring contest with the plastic eggs as he pores over the array of candy and decorations littering the rest of the table.
his head snaps up as he hears your feet pattering down the steps, knowing you’re about to catch him in the midst of a battle between him and your daughter’s easter goodies. you take the eggs’ place as the object of his visual affection when you appear in the kitchen, staring back at him in silence. his puppy dog eyes plead into yours. he knows you know what he’s trying to say, i’m trying, i want this to be perfect. he also knows you won’t let him destroy himself to make you and your baby girl happy, even when he wants to.
“she’s only two, you know. she’s not going to care if the right piece of candy is in the right egg. she’s just happy to be with us,” you speak to his anxieties like you can read his mind.
it’s one of the many things he loves about you, his sweet wife. the way you just know what his brain is fighting against, and can speak to it. your sweet words don’t appease his guilt this time, though, and you both know it. he plows ten fingers through his mop of hair before sliding his glasses onto his forehead.
“i know,” he breathes, and you both know he has more to say.
“but it’s not enough,” you finish for him.
“it’s not enough,” he repeats, defeated.
“well, then let me help you,” you declare, pulling a chair up next to him.
“no, no,” he insists, shaking his head, “you just put her to bed. you must be exhausted, rest.”
“we’re both exhausted, spence. just because i was the one to put her to bed tonight doesn’t mean i’m the only one doing the parenting around here,” he knows you’re trying to reassure him, but he flinches anyway. his ability to be a father has been a sore subject since you first became pregnant almost three years ago.
“plus, we both know i won’t be able to rest while you’re over here, very clearly in need of a helping hand,” you glare at him, checkmate. he relents at that, and allows you to wrap yourself into him. your arms around his bicep, your head on his shoulder, his chin atop your temple. slowly, he allows vulnerability to pierce through the tension between you two.
“what do we got here, handsome?” you croon, and he’s never been so certain that he doesn’t deserve you, that you’re too good for him. there’s not much he can do about that now but kiss you on the forehead and hope his lips convey a decade of love and devotion in one small kiss.
“i just want it to be perfect,” he croaks, eyes glossing over. “i wasn’t here last time. i don’t think i’ll ever not feel guilty about it.”
“i understand, spence. i’d feel bad, too, but that doesn’t mean you’re not there for her, that you don’t love her. because you do. and you show her, and me, everyday, don’t forget that,” you finish your mini speech with a firm kiss on the lips.
a year ago from this very moment, he was pulled away on a case. the call came at 11 pm, the night before your daughter’s first easter. to say he was devastated would be an understatement. he put on a brave face that morning over facetime, watching the chubby hands of one little eloise reid tear through the plastic easter grass hiding the candy in her basket.
he was brave until the time came to hit the hang up button. with the blankness that filled his screen and his hotel room, he broke. he was of no use on the case, and the team knew it, too. he left the bau shortly after that. he didn’t want to feel that way ever again, and he knew if he stayed there, he would. that time it was only one holiday, sure, but what about when she ends up having a dance recital? or graduates? he couldn’t risk it, he knew his family took the biggest priority.
between that and his own father’s absence in his childhood, he was determined to make this easter absolutely perfect for your daughter, no matter if he fell dead asleep on your kitchen table trying.
the staticky rustling of plastic basket grass tears spencer away from his loud, busy brain, and his eyes soften as they fixate on you. helping him. you’re nestling a little stuffed bunny atop the plastic frills of the basket and spencer watches in awe, wondering why he didn’t think to do that first.
he knows the answer. it’s because it’s you. you’re the best mom, and he loves catching those little moments where you prove that to him. it doesn’t take much, like the way you’re slipping $1 bills into each plastic egg, while also making sure you put a piece of candy there as well. it’s a small gesture, maybe, one that doesn’t take much deep thinking, but he knows that it comes from the deepest love your great beautiful heart can muster.
and of course he loves your daughter too, so, so much, but he struggles to show it the way you do. his lack of a paternal presence in his childhood sometimes leaves him feeling empty handed in his journey of fatherhood. you never let him feel this way for long, though. again, just like now, with the way you immediately jumped in to help him. even after he said no, even if you’re absolutely exhausted. you do it for him, because it’s him. because you love him. he still can’t believe it some days.
he smiles, so full of love for his two girls and lets his gaze linger as you run into the living room. you return yielding the carrots and cookies the three of you left for the easter bunny earlier.
“up for a little midnight snack?” you tease, waving the carrots in one hand and the cookies in another before you sit.
“not my preferred treat but i’m not going to say no to one of your sugar cookies,” he jokes, pulling you to the edge of your chair by the small of your back.
he places a kiss on your lips. an intense one, one that conveys every thought blundering through his mind the 10 minutes you’ve been downstairs. how much he loves you, specifically.
he feels you chuckle against him and can’t help but deepen the kiss, pulling you ever closer so his leg comes between yours, your core pressing warmly against his knee. he hears you whimper, a sound he’ll cherish forever, before you rub against him gently and pull away.
“not tonight,” you peer at him over your glasses, a faux concern dancing through your gaze, “if we do you’ll end up giving me another baby. we both know we’re not ready for that yet.”
it’s his turn now to hide his face in the crook of your neck, placing gentle kisses along your neck and jaw. you dedicate the rest of your night to making this holiday special for your little girl.
after nibbling on the carrots and cookies, you place them back on the plate with a thank you note, signed E.B. he raises a brow as he sees you pad over to your cupboard, pulling out your bin of flour. your cheeky smile invokes butterflies, and he’s breathless. it’s late, you’re in sweats, your hair is a mess, and you’re currently half-bent, sifting flour over a stencil of a bunny foot, and he’s never been more in love with you.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
spender hears rustling and sweet talk echoing down your spiral staircase. baby eloise’s sweet morning rasp, her high pitched baby voice asking mama if the easter bunny came. he hears you coo at her, telling her she has to wait and see, followed by kissing noises and baby giggles. his heart grows three sizes.
when he sees you appear in the stairway through the lens of his phone, he quickly tears his gaze away from the screen to see the real thing. his girls, eyes tired and hair messy, float down the steps, light from the back window illuminating them, like his own personal angels.
“hi girls!” he lilts, gentle as to not startle his baby girl.
her big brown eyes that she got from dad bore into his, and he can feel himself welling up at her sweetness. sap.
“hi sweet eloise,” he bends down for a kiss from both his angels as you set her at the bottom of the steps, “i think someone special came,” he coos, stealing some more kisses from the baby’s soft chubby cheeks.
she nestles into spencer’s chest, a tiny little thumb settled gently on her lips, and his heart bleeds. he loves her so much.
“i think the easter bunny came!” he croons, hugging her tight and close, “do you wanna see what he got you?” he feels her head nod against him and he hands you his phone. the three of you walk into the living room and spencer sets her down, letting her choose where to go first.
she runs right to the fireplace, where the eaten treats and thank you note lay, her eyes wide.
“wow!” he hears you gasp, and he pulls you to him so you can walk to her together, “i think he ate our treats!”
eloise turns to you two and giggles, clapping her chubby little hands. you two can’t help but pull her in, attacking her with kisses before letting her go on to her other surprises.
she squeals at the bunny feet, repeating, “bunny! bunny!” she gets presents too, of course, spoiled little thing that she is.
you’re better than spencer at shopping for the girly things she loves, so he was an observer shopping for the special things she’s getting this morning.
you nailed it, too. you got her pink, purple, and blue ruffle swimsuits for the summer, and he’s already dying inside imagining how cute it will be. she immediately opens the tinted lip balm with a unicorn on it, as well as the princess jewelry kit, complete with fake earrings and a necklace with aurora, her favorite princess, on the pendant.
she demolishes the easter egg hunt you set up for her in the backyard, just like her dad always did. she squeals when she opens each one, even though all the $1 bills don’t mean anything to her, and will end up being spent by you two anyway. you agreed to spend the total $10 on her, regardless. it’s about having something that’s her own, forming an identity at an early age.
later in the morning, when you appear in the living room, ready for easter brunch with your family, he falls in love all over again. his girls, now a complete contrast to his view earlier this morning, clad in your easter best, look so beautiful, he’s now thoroughly convinced you’re angels.
you’re in a pink ruffled maxi dress, hair and makeup done to the nines. your baby girl got her hair styled by mom, one of her favorite pastimes. her curly hair lay beautifully behind the world’s cutest bangs, and she’s cute as pie with her yellow flowered dress.
he saunters over to you, piercing you with a gaze that said ‘i’m ready for baby #2 now’ before kissing you, then eloise.
“you are the two most beautiful girls in the entire world,” he croons, hugging you both close to him in his big arms.
“i love you,” you whisper up to him, kissing his jawline sweetly, “what do you say to daddy, sweet girl?” you prompt, rubbing her baby belly.
“thank you daddy, i love you!” she chirps, planting a big kiss on his cheek.
he never thought his life could be filled with this much joy.
2K notes · View notes
earthtooz · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
x : CALL ME BACK : *+゚
in which: ratio has been waiting for your call since you left.
warnings: FLUFF i promise, 1.6k wc, gn!reader, ratio being horribly in love and pining so badly, reader works as a space researcher, reader is a sunshine so this is basically sunshine x grump/asshole, written during his first release/ v1.6.
a/n: the way i wrote the synopsis made it sound like it was sad. maybe i'll write an angst version of the same prompt. anyways i listened to 'she calls me back' by noah kahan on loop when writing this, enjoy!
Tumblr media
Dr. Ratio is not happy with you.
It has been three weeks and three days since he last received any sort of notification from you, any sort of indication that you were healthy and alive whilst traversing the universe. Typically, you would send daily updates of how your exploration was progressing, or new intergalactic discoveries of yours, regardless of whether or not he cared. 
(He cares. He cares more than his indifferent texts lead on. There’s a reason he always responds, after all, and it’s not just because you’ve been friends for almost two decades now.
To him, your constant messages and calls told him that you were thinking of him, and the more space he occupies in your mind, the happier he is; that is a theory he discovered years ago.
He happily listens to all of your rambles. He'll listen whilst in the middle of grading various papers or writing one of his own, he'll listen whilst eating, he'll listen to you as long as you reach out.
So where are the messages he was waiting for?)
Today is the arranged day for you to return from your new mission. Ratio has been counting down the days since he first marked it on his large desk calender, your return being the first event on his list. 
He is undeniably excited to see you, yet he feels petty enough to not make the trip down and welcome you by the docks, even if your ship’s landing zone is just outside the University.
It’s irrational of him to hold your inactivity against you. Perhaps you just encountered an inconvenience and lost your phone, or wherever you are does not have good reception to send a text halfway across the galaxy. He understands that your safety comes first on these missions, but he can’t help but feel neglected, and he curses the fragility of his ego for making him this way. 
The clock strikes another hour. From his office, Ratio cannot see the ships and come and go, but his ‘scholarly instincts’ are telling him that you are on your way. 
Not even ten minutes later, a figure comes barrelling into his office.
“There he is!” You exclaim exuberantly. It seems that the length of the mission did not erode your enthusiasm, and he’s grateful that it is as contagious as he remembers. “And here I was wondering where you were, did you dig your nose too deep in those encyclopaedias you love to memorise?”
You’re still in your research gear, hips and legs buckled to the brim with various equipment that are necessary to your work, and his heart beats guiltily at the sight. 
You came to see him as soon as you landed. He was your first destination after a tiring three and a half weeks away from home, not the comfort of your home or bed or shower; him. 
“Ha. Ha.” The purple-haired laughs dryly, getting up from his chair and rounding his desk. “Good to see you still alive.”
“What’s with the lack of energy? Didn’t you miss me, Veritas?” 
He did. More than you could ever imagine. “Of course I did.” 
Opening his arms for a hug, you all but run into his embrace, throwing your arms and anchoring yourself to the sturdiness of his torso. After not seeing you for so long, your familiar frame and warmth provides nothing but comfort. 
“Welcome home,” Ratio murmurs into your hairline. 
Your arms squeeze him tighter. “Good to be back.” 
After a few beats of silence, you step away from him and he reluctantly detaches himself from you. 
“I got you something,” you say whilst setting down your bag. Pulling out a suitcase, the purple-haired looks at you inquisitively. “It’s a chess board! I got you a new one to add to your collection!”
Ratio doesn’t bother correcting you that his ‘collection’ only has seven boards at most, but that does not negate his gratitude. 
Even whilst away, you thought of him, and that is a great victory.
“Thank you. We can play together, sometime,” he proposes.
“Oh, please. I could never beat you.”
“Giving up before you even start? That does not sound like the Y/n I know.”
“It’s not ‘giving up’, it’s picking my battles wisely. I could never best you in a game of chess, or any competition of intellect,” you laugh as if the idea itself was ridiculous.
“You shouldn’t discredit yourself based on your own assumptions. I think you make a very capable opponent.”
“I know your tricks, Veritas. Buttering me up just so you can chip at my armour and knock me down when I’m weak, have you no shame?” Your voice is light, with an air of joviality to it, and the purple-haired is enchanted. 
It seems that you don’t know him as well as you think. He finds no shame in hogging as much of your time as possible, even if it is through a game of chess that he will beat you at. He also hopes that you don’t know him well enough to hear the subtle desperation in his voice when he enquires if you’ll be leaving for another mission soon.
“I don’t believe so,” you tell him nonchalantly. “I’ll be stationed here for about two months. They’re expecting a detailed, twenty-page length report from me, so I guess I’ll be locked in my study until that’s complete.”
Ratio clicks his tongue. “Pity.”
(It’s not a pity. He gets to spend two months with you in compensation for the month that he was robbed of.)
“Not to sound self-absorbed, but why weren’t you there are the dock to pick me up?” You ask. 
“Were you disappointed?”
“A little. You’re always the first face I see whenever I come home. It was jarring to not see you amongst the crowd.”
Jealousy slashes at his chest, and he turns away from you to hide his sour expression. “I apologise, I must have lost track of the days.”
“You’re Doctor Veritas Ratio. According to your crazy schedules, there are 72 hours instead of 24 in a standard day, you never lose track.” 
Truth is a fascinating thing. By nature, it is black and white, but it’s perception is what traps fools. Humans have strived to discover an uncontested truth for as long as they have existed, but as long as opinions exist, it will constantly be revised and put together again, ambiguity heavy in the air that surrounds it. 
You, however, are even more fascinating with the way you can deconstruct him so easily.
“If you must know, I was… upset with you because you were not messaging me.”
The silence that follows is deafening.
Your laughter is even more so.
Hubris can really kill a man. Ratio does not need to consult the texts of ancient philosophers to confirm that. 
“Really?” You choke out in between cackles. “I didn’t think such menial things mattered to you!”
“Normally, they don’t.”
“So, I’m a special case then?”
“I shouldn’t need to spell it out for you.”
“Veritas!” You coo, placing your hands on either sides of his face. “I am so flattered!” 
Dr. Ratio is a renowned scholar with eight doctorate degrees. The mere mention of his name will inspire hundreds, if not, thousands, of people who have the faintest lust for academia, spreading marvel and fear amongst students and professors alike. His achievements will be engraved and celebrated by the university for centuries to come, and his classes are so notoriously hard that the passing rate is 3%. 
And yet, here he is, reduced to putty in your hands.
Perhaps that is who he is at his core. Rid from him the alabaster head, the codex, and pride, you’ll be left with a man who is ardently in love with his best friend.
“Stop it, this is ridiculous!” He mutters, hoping to salvage his image at least a little.
You listen to his demands, separating from him with a hearty laugh. “So you really do like me, that’s nice to know.”
(It is far beyond ‘like’ now. Can you come back and hold his face again?)
“I like you when you’re quiet.”
“Clearly not if you loathed my virtual silence! Which, by the way, was caused because the planet I was on had horrible reception. I really need to switch cell providers, mine doesn’t even reach to half way across the galaxy, apparently.”
“Well. I am glad you survived the three weeks without reception, it must have been a formidable challenge for you.”
“Were you worried for me?”
Of course he was. Whilst you freely roam the expansiveness of the universe, the only thing that anchors him to you across the span of light years is a message. “You should stop asking questions you know the answer to.”
“Boo, you’re no fun.” You lean down to grab the bags that lay at your feet, swinging them over one shoulder. Do you have to leave so soon? “Well, I better get going. I’m aching for a shower and a nap. Now that I have proper data and Wifi, rest assured that I will be texting you soon.”
“Cannot wait.” 
“Goodbye, Veritas! I shall see you soon!” 
‘Soon’ is a relative time frame. He can only hope that you won’t keep him waiting again.
The door clicks shut behind you, and not even five seconds later, his phone buzzes with a call.
“Sorry!” Your voice greets from the other end of the line. “Was just testing if my reception actually worked.”
“There is a reason your day job is a Space Researcher and not a comedian.”
“Can’t you at least laugh? Let’s grab dinner tomorrow at half past six, make yourself free, Veritas!” 
You hang up before he can even get a word in, and he’s left to stare at the blank screen of his phone with an idiotic smile.
Everything’s alright when you call him back.
Tumblr media
© EARTHTOOZ 2024, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.
2K notes · View notes