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sundrop-writes · 2 months

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Careful - Chapter Four

(Dad)Spencer Reid x (Mom)Fem!Reader

Chapter Four: Last Hope

It’s just a spark but it’s enough to keep me going.

Summary:

The entire axis of your world is shifting.

Spencer is not the man you left alone all those years ago, and you don't know how to react to him being such a perfect, caring father. You also don't know how to react to the potential that you could be killed by someone who has already gutted five other women.

Luckily, Spencer is there to protect you. Another thing you don't fully know how to react to - but somehow, you just go with it.

Dad!Spencer Reid x Mom!Fem!Reader. Exes to Lovers. (Slight) Fluff and Angst.

Word Count: 8,800

Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link | Series Masterlist

Detailed warnings and author's notes below.

Warnings: Again, basic warnings for a Criminal Minds episode - mentions of murder/killing, the reader character is the next target of a serial killer; mentions of the reader wearing a sexy Halloween costume (during a flashback); mentions of gender roles - the reader doesn’t raise Sebastian with strict gender roles (and Spencer appreciates this); mentions of the reader giving birth (not graphic descriptions); some emotional tension between Spencer and the reader; angst because Spencer is upset about missing out on so much of Sebastian’s life; passing mention of abortion; the reader is threatened (in a graphic way) and called whore in a derogatory manner by the UnSub; Spencer is also threatened in a very graphic way by the UnSub; specific threats of stabbing and rape (toward the reader); passing mention of poop (because come on, this is a little kid, and kids talk about their poop a lot); I believe that’s it for this chapter.

A/N: So, this chapter starts off with a flashback rather than ending with one, because flashbacks are important to how information is revealed to the audience, and I think it works here. Idk what else to say about this chapter - I think it's a nice transition into the climax. I hope you guys enjoy it!!

...

Halloween. It was always a time when Spencer thrived the most - and he thrived even more when spending it with you.

It was your second Halloween together as a couple, and Spencer loved that you enjoyed celebrating the holiday just as much as he did. You loved dressing up, you loved all of the spooky lore behind Halloween. And of course, you loved listening to all of the real life facts he had to tell you about Halloween’s history, and things like vampires, werewolves, zombies, and all of the Halloween traditions and how they evolved over time.

You didn’t think before that learning about the origins of Halloween could make it even more fun, but Spencer somehow made it into the most exciting educational documentary of your life.

This year, you had invited him to a house party that one of your work friends was hosting. It would be some light drinking, finger food, dancing to cheesy Halloween songs, and most likely sitting around and talking while roasting marshmallows around your friend’s backyard fire pit. It wouldn’t be anything big, but you expected it to be a really fun night.

You showed up to Spencer’s place wearing a straight off the rack, generic ‘sexy witch’ costume. It consisted of a very wide brimmed pointy hat, dark make-up, and a tight corset drawing attention to your curves, as well as a short tulle skirt, flared sleeves, and black fishnets and black boots to top off the look. He found you irresistible and almost wanted to stay at home. But he was looking forward to the party; he was excited to meet your friends and he knew that the occasion meant a lot to you.

He told you that he was planning on going as a young Ernest Hemmingway, and as much as you adored it, because it was a very Spencer thing to do - you knew that it was very unlikely that anybody else at the party would be able to identify his costume on sight, and that would probably disappoint him. He would be standing proudly, asking people to guess who he was, and they would come up blank because they weren’t in the same mindset as him.

So you advised him of this, and encouraged him to steer his costume in a different direction. (And Spencer - trusting any advice you gave, simply let you lead him.)

You took the late 1800s style clothing he had picked out for the occasion, and some of the makeup you had brought in your bag for potential touch-ups - and you convinced him to let you dress him up as a sexy vampire who had been turned in the late 1800s.

You did his makeup - with some dark eyeliner, that he winced at the entire time, some dark eyeshadow, and some red lipstick smudged around his mouth to appear as though it were blood he had just siphoned from his latest victim. And the entire time you worked, he came up with an elaborate name and backstory for his vampire character. You delighted in listening to him tell you all about Frederic Henry - named after a Hemmingway character. A man who was shot in the military and assumed dead, but who was saved in the trenches of World War I by a vampire’s bite, and then lived on.

You encouraged him to wear his shirt unbuttoned quite a bit, creating a deep V down to his chest that he wouldn’t have worn any other time. Thinking about his story, you even used the eyeliner to create the scar of a bullet wound on his chest, slightly hidden by his shirt - something to hint at Frederic’s tragic past.

(Both you and Spencer got way too into it, but you were having fun.)

You were running a bit late by the time you left Spencer’s apartment, but it was a casual house party, and you knew that nobody was going to call you out for being ‘late’.

You parked a few blocks away, not wanting to drive through the neighborhood with so many kids out and about on foot. It was still early in the evening, and many kids were still out, knocking on doors, getting their candy.

“They’re so cute, aren’t they?” You remarked as the two of you walked down the sidewalk, hand in hand with Spencer as you made your way toward the party among a sea of Trick or Treaters.

“Kids in costumes? Or just kids in general?” Spencer replied with a chuckle, trying to clarify what you had said.

(There was a hopeful edge in his voice, a daring longing in his eyes as he looked at the parents helping their children from house to house. Something deep inside of him that hoped the two of you could have your place here a few years from now.)

“Kids in general are cute.” You shrugged. “But kids in their little costumes are so much cuter.”

Spencer’s insides fluttered - seeing you light up with joy just talking about children, knowing that it might be in your future. Knowing that it might be a part of his future with you.

“If we had a baby, would you wanna dress him up for Halloween?” Spencer asked.

You wanted to fixate on the ‘if’ - to tell him that you thought it was something more certain in your future, with the way things were going. That you thought he would make an amazing father. That you wanted it to be a ‘when’.

Instead, you chose a different part of his statement to pick at.

“You sound awfully certain that our kid would be a boy.” You chuckled. “Please don’t tell me you’re one of those guys who would be disappointed by having a girl.”

That would be a dealbreaker for you. As amazing as Spencer was - he had to be just as good of a father to a daughter as he would be to a son in order to stay in the picture.

“Goodness, no.” Spencer replied, shaking his head.

He held back. He didn’t tell you that he had spent far too much time - hours on the plane rides back home, nights when he couldn’t sleep - thinking about his future with you. He imagined three kids. An oldest boy, and two girls, about a year or two apart each. A golden retriever, a house - he had even picked out which district he wanted to live in based on schools in the area and lowest crime rates.

He knew it was stupid, but he had already been squirreling away money for a downpayment on that house. When you were ready, he wanted to be able to give you everything you could ever ask for. He had way too much time to fantasize, and he didn’t want to admit that to you now.

“Just - it slipped out.” He chuckled. “I would be thrilled if we had a little girl. But - I pictured us having a boy.”

In his mind’s eye, his daughter was so much like you. And if that came to pass, then he would be the luckiest man on earth.

“You did?” You grinned at him, a distinct light in your eye.

Spencer found his chest untightening as he breathed in relief.

“Well, if he’s half as cute as you,” You said, moving a hand over to pinch one of his cheeks, which made him smile and let out a huff, half forming into a laugh. “Then I definitely wanna dress him up in a Halloween costume. Especially while he’s still little and cute and can’t argue about what I wanna dress him up as. Before he starts talking and wants to be that fuzzy guy from Star Wars.”

“You mean Chewbacca?” Spencer asked, wondering which one you were talking about.

“Yeah!” You said. “The big ugly one. The little teddy bear guys are cute, but the big one is kind of creepy.”

“We had an all-day Star Wars marathon, and you didn’t tell me that you thought Chewbacca was creepy?” Spencer chuckled, his mind now distancing from the subject of the two of you having kids.

“Yeah, because you were there to protect me!” You replied, your voice still filled with lightness and laughter. “And I didn’t even really realize it until after. I had this weird nightmare-”

“You had nightmares about Chewbacca?”

“One nightmare! It was only one!”

The subject of children was forgotten, then.

Your laughter echoed off into the night, and you didn’t think much of the conversation.

Spencer remarked on it as a precious memory - as a sign that his savings account was an insurance policy for his future, not a fool’s errand. After the break-up, he thought about it over and over - he wondered where he had gone so wrong, how he had lost you. If you had felt so secure in your future together - how had he lost you?

…

Spencer wasn’t sure how it was possible, but he was growing more and more love for Sebastian with each passing moment.

After he got off the phone with Derek, he went back into the house to be mobbed by Sebastian. Having the boy run into his arms with so much excitement - it made him feel more heroic than anything he had done with the BAU for the past years of his life. So often, when he carted off a killer to jail or when he saw a victim returned to the arms of their family, he couldn’t feel the relief or the calm that JJ or Gideon spoke of. He just felt so empty.

But having Sebastian hug him tight and ramble in his ear with excitement about all his plans for their afternoon - it made his chest swell with a grand importance that he had only gotten a taste of when he was with you. When he was making you happy. It felt like a moment that his whole life was leading up to.

You asked Spencer if it was okay for you to go back to your office and get some work done while he occupied Sebastian, and he could think of nothing he wanted more - except maybe for you to join him, and to spend some true quality time with him and his son. But he hoped that would come later. And this in itself was progress - you trusting him to play with Sebastian, to spend time alone with him while you got your work done.

Sebastian showed Spencer every single one of his toy dinosaurs, and they played with those for quite a while. They also had a tea party with some large bears and dolls present - and Spencer was delighted by the fact that you didn’t buy him gender specific toys. Knowing that this opened up different areas of play and imagination, and allowed for his development to be nurtured by gentleness and caring that young boys didn’t often get in a society so rigid about gender roles.

Spencer really couldn’t imagine a better boy. You had raised such a beautiful, smart son. Someone who was polite, so caring, and gentle.

Spencer was practically swollen with love, overwhelmed at getting to spend time with his son.

His heart felt as though it might burst out of his chest and he knew that he looked fitful, actively holding back overwhelmed tears while Sebastian poured the imaginary tea for each member sitting around the small plastic table and they clinked their tiny plastic cups together in a toast.

Then, Sebastian wanted to show Spencer a favorite movie of his. He rushed downstairs to put it on the TV, and as he was picking it out among the DVDs, he became distracted by something at the top of the shelf beside the TV.

“My Halloween basket!” Sebastian said, pointing to an orange basket at the top of the shelf - one that did appear as though it was for Halloween, with a jack-o-lantern’s face painted on the front of it.

“Mommy says treats are for after dinner. But… can we have one now?” The boy looked hopefully toward Spencer, knowing that he would be able to reach the basket and bring it down toward him.

Spencer didn’t want to undermine your rules. You had done so well raising Sebastian this far, so you were clearly doing everything right.

He crouched down to the boy’s level.

“We should go ask your Mommy if it’s okay to have one.” He told Sebastian, who nodded, and then ran off toward your office with that thunderous urgency in his steps.

He heard a distant ‘Mommy!’ - and a bang that could have been Sebastian’s version of a knock or him downright smacking the office door until it opened. But then he heard your voice murmuring and what must have been a frustrated sigh.

Spencer felt slightly bad that he had sent Sebastian to interrupt your work, especially over something so small. But he didn’t want to lose progress with you and have you reaming him out for giving your son sugar without your permission.

You soon came into the room and went straight for the candy bucket, lifting it off the shelf and bringing it down to Sebastian’s level so that he could choose one.

“I know it seems cruel. But I didn’t want him eating it all on Halloween and puking, so he’s allowed to have one a day, usually as a treat after dinner.” You explained, clearly wanted to lay out your reasoning for Spencer.

“No, no, it’s not cruel.” Spencer replied quickly. “It’s a good idea. Regulating his intake of sugar while not completely restricting it as something sacred or off-limits. It’s a good call.”

Sebastian picked out a small packet of M&Ms, and then you went to lift the bucket away, and he spoke up.

“Can I pick one for my friend Spencer, too?” He asked.

“Yeah, go ahead.” You nodded, and then you added on: “Spencer’s favorite is Snickers.”

Of course, Spencer was floored that you remembered this.

Sebastian picked out a mini Snickers and then excitedly thrust it in Spencer’s direction.

“Aw, thanks buddy!” Spencer said, eagerly taking it with a grin, even reaching out to give him a high five while he smiled up at Spencer in return.

(He was too busy looking at Sebastian with those stars in his eyes to notice the way you were watching the pair - watching all of your dreams unfold before you with an odd mixture of bitterness and affection swelling up inside of you.)

Sebastian moved on to picking out the movie and you went to walk out of the room again, seemingly to get back to work, but Spencer stopped you. Something else was on his mind.

“Y/N.” He called your name gently, and you turned back to him, your arms crossed stiffly.

He was just glad that you didn’t seem so angry at him using your name this time.

“Do - do you have any pictures of Sebastian in his Halloween costume?” He asked meekly, afraid that you would stamp out this request with more anger and defensiveness.

“Why?” You gaped, seeming very confused that he would even ask this.

“I - I just wanted to see.” Spencer replied.

‘Because I missed out on so much of him.’ He hesitated to say. ‘I know it’s impossible, but I want those years back.’

The deep sadness lingering in Spencer’s eyes caused your stomach to clench.

He had really changed. This wasn’t the same man who had been standing in the apartment that night. This wasn’t the same person who had been so callous and stubborn - the same person that you felt you needed to protect your unborn child from.

Maybe this was the man you had fallen in love with, somehow rescued from the clutches of that person you didn’t know who had mocked you while wearing Spencer’s face.

“Gimme a minute.” You told him. And then you leaned in close before you whispered something else. “And you should let him see you eat the Snickers, otherwise he’s gonna be insulted.”

Spencer smiled at this.

Sebastian waved him over then, and he asked which DVD Spencer would rather watch. Spencer ate the Snickers and thanked Sebastian for sharing his treats once again while the boy went through a very detailed explanation of the plot of the films so Spencer would have an informed choice. And then Spencer picked, and Sebastian moved to put the movie into the DVD player.

This was when you came back with a thick envelope filled with pictures and handed them over to Spencer.

“I had these printed a while ago.” You explained. “I was planning on making a scrapbook for my mom, for mother’s day. It’s… basically every important moment in Sebastian’s life.”

“That’s my baby picture!” Sebastian said excitedly, looking over at the pictures in Spencer’s lap. “That’s when I was a baby, after I was born. I was one day old. Mommy said that everyone used to be one day old at some point, but that just sounds weird!”

Spencer’s throat clenched up with tears, and this clashed with the laughter he experienced from Sebastian’s comments.

But as he looked through the pictures, he had a much harder time holding back his tears.

Seeing all of the pictures, all of those moments - it slowly broke him.

The first picture was one of Sebastian wrapped in a very clinical swaddling blanket when he was still so new and wrinkly, only hours after his birth. Spencer could imagine how small Sebastian would have been in his arms. The tiny little newborn sounds he would have made. Spencer wished that he could have held your hand through the birth, that he could have been there with both of you in the hospital during those first few days of his life.

Then, a picture of you holding Sebastian in his nursery when you had brought him home from the hospital - a photo that was most likely taken by your mom. You had such a big, bright smile on your face. You looked so perfect with him in your arms. You were such a good mother.

There were pictures of him when he was more alert - his big, curious eyes looking at the world for the first time; what appeared to be his first picnic out at the park when he was laying on his back on a soft blanket, taking in the world for the first time. Spencer could imagine how sweet his baby laughter would be - what it would have been like blowing raspberries on his soft belly and kissing you under the warm sun.

He continued flipping through the photos - another one of what must have been his first Halloween. He was dressed up as a chubby round Jack-o-Lantern with his little fist in his mouth, drooling around it while your mother held him for the picture.

And then - pictures of him walking experimentally while you held him by both of his hands; him sitting in front of a Christmas tree, opening an exciting Christmas toy that made him beam with a big smile.

Pictures of important memories all throughout his life, all the way up until recently. This past Halloween, he had dressed up as Luke Skywalker.

He liked Star Wars.

“Um, can I use your bathroom?” Spencer choked out.

He knew that he was crying very blatantly now.

His chest was caving in as all of it truly hit him - how much of his son’s life he had missed. He didn’t wait for you to direct him because he knew that he had passed the bathroom coming down the hall. He abandoned the photos in the middle of the coffee table, haste to escape.

Sebastian looked at him with sad eyes as he stormed out of the room.

“Why is my friend Spencer sad?” He asked in a small voice, looking up at you. “He doesn’t like my pictures?”

“No, honey, your pictures are beautiful.” You assured him, kneeling down by the table and gathering up the pictures. “It’s complicated…” You let out a huff, not knowing how to explain it to him. Not even knowing where to start. “It’s grown-up stuff, okay? Just - just watch your movie.”

You stacked the photos back into the envelope, and you hoped that Sebastian wouldn’t follow you as you raced down the hall toward Spencer. You weren’t surprised to find the bathroom door closed.

“Spence,” You called out his name as you knocked gently on the bathroom door.

That gutted him even more. Spence.

Another harsh reminder of the life he had lost.

“I’m sorry.” He called back, his voice audibly drenched in tears.

Your throat tightened up.

This began to shift your entire axis. The man you had left standing alone that night - you thought he was a man who would have never cared about your son. Someone who would have asked you to get an abortion or distanced himself from the pregnancy as much as possible.

But this man - this felt like the Spencer you knew, the one you fell in love with.

He cared so much.

This was someone who could fit into your life, someone who could help raise your son.

And tugging right at your heart, something you wanted to deny - this was a man you wanted to be your husband, as well as the father of your child.

“Spencer, please-”

Spencer opened the door then, and upon instinct, you drew back, wrapping your arms tightly around yourself. Unconsciously, you were protecting yourself.

“I’m sorry.” He apologized again. “Did I scare him? I didn’t mean to.” He asked, looking behind your shoulder as if waiting for Sebastian to appear.

There it was again - prioritizing your son above all else. Worry for him.

Something you wouldn’t have expected. Something that forced you to shift your whole perspective.

“He’s fine.” You told him. “He - he probably just wants you to watch the movie with him.” You said, entirely honest, motioning toward the living room - where the sound of Sebastian’s cartoon movie could be heard playing from the television.

“I’ll be out in a minute.” Spencer noted, reaching for some toilet paper to wipe his eyes with.

You squeezed your hands tighter around your arms, resisting the urge to reach out and touch him. You wanted to wipe those tears away yourself. Spencer’s keen eye went right to this movement, and you felt so caught.

“I should go start dinner.” You said, eager for an excuse to escape the situation.

You whisked down the hall before Spencer could say anything else, and before his mind could linger too much on it - on you - his phone rang again.

It was a number he didn’t recognize, but he had to guess that it was one of the phones from the local police station - someone from the team calling with an update about the case.

“Reid here.” He answered, deeply hoping that he didn’t sound too tearful over the phone.

“Do you like pretending, Doctor Reid?”

That certainly wasn’t a voice he recognized.

“Excuse me?” Spencer squeaked back, having no clue what this meant.

“Do you like playing house, Doctor Reid?”

The person on the other end posed a slightly different question. The voice was sharp and certain, completely devoid of genuine emotion. It caused a chill down Spencer’s spine, and he knew, somehow-

The UnSub had gotten a hold of his phone number, and felt the need to taunt him by getting in contact with him.

“Unlike you, I’m not playing.” Spencer growled in return, already having the profile in his pocket. “I don’t need to play house to fulfill some God complex. I fully intend to spend the rest of my life being there for my son, raising him. And as long as I am here, in this house, no harm will come to my son or the woman who raised him.”

“Hmm…” The man seemed entirely bored with Spencer’s words. “The woman who raised him. Such a funny way to talk about that whore you supposedly once loved. But she did such a good job raising the boy, didn’t she? Seems like she didn’t even need you in the picture, did she? Such a sweet little thing… anybody could just waltz right into that house, slit her throat and take him. He’s smart enough to do well on his own now.”

Spencer knew that it was a tactic intended to get to him, and he shouldn’t have let it emotionally affect him as much as it did - but fuck, it got to him.

“Don’t talk about her that way.” He growled into the phone. “Don’t talk about them, that way, I swear to god, I’ll-”

“You’ll do what, Doctor Reid?” The man cut him off, clearly mocking him. Clearly in disbelief that Spencer could ever truly be violent in response to his family being threatened.

Spencer choked on a breath, trying to compose himself.

“Now, now. Simmer now.” The man cooed, still mocking, entirely condescending. “And don’t you worry, Doctor. Every whore gets her time to be an angel. I’m sure that she’s going to look so beautiful when she’s moaning and writhing in pain while my knife plunges into her guts. Don’t worry, Daddy - I’ll treat her as gently as I can.”

Spencer sucked in a breath, preparing to yell at the man, but then - the line went dead with a sharp ‘click’. Spencer pulled back his phone and looked at the display - he memorized the number so that he could give it to Garcia later, and then, he called JJ.

“Reid, hey.”

She sounded worried.

Any rage pumping through him that the unknown man had triggered in him melted away, and he immediately wondered why JJ had taken on that sad, sullen tone.

Before he could ask, she spoke up again.

“We… were just wondering if we should call you.”

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

“The UnSub knows you’re in the house.” She announced, ripping the band-aid off all at once.

Spencer wondered again how this was possible. But he figured that it was better to exchange information and let the questions naturally arise than to ask the questions himself.

“Yeah, he just called me.” He told JJ. “Clearly with the intention to antagonize me.”

“Wait, hold on.” JJ sighed. In the police station, she walked into the conference room where the team was working and put her phone on speaker for the room before she spoke to Spencer again. “Tell them what you just told me.”

“Someone who I can only assume was the UnSub just called me.” Spencer explained. “It was very clear that he was trying to antagonize me. He - he seemed jealous that I’m here - that I’m trying to take his place as father in the household before he could get here.”

“What makes you say that?” Hotch asked.

“He claimed that I was ‘playing pretend’. He called me Daddy. He mocked my love for Y/N, and taunted me with the idea of him… potentially killing her.” Spencer found those last words particularly difficult to speak, but he knew that the team needed all the information at hand.

“Let me guess, he called you from a blocked number?” Prentiss wondered aloud.

“No, actually.” Spencer replied. “Do you have a pen? I can give you the number and you can have Garcia run it.”

“Fire away.” Prentiss replied.

“503-202-1052.” Spencer told her.

“I’ll call Garcia now.” She said - on the other end, getting up from the table to call Garcia on her cell.

“JJ said you guys have something too?” Spencer asked, still wondering what JJ had meant.

“The scumbag sent us a letter.” Morgan answered. “The envelope was full of pictures. A bunch of pictures of your girl and the kid from weeks back - them at the park, at restaurants, at the grocery store. He’s way farther ahead in his timeline than we thought he was.”

“Yeah, and there’s… something else.” Rossi sighed. “He also included pictures of you and JJ standing on the porch when you arrived at the house. And one of you coming back to the house later, by yourself. In one of them… he crossed your eyes out with a red marker. It’s clear that he sees you as competition. A clear threat to his fantasy.”

“But - how does he know that I’m Sebastian’s real father?” Spencer wondered aloud.

“Perhaps he only sees you as competition because you’re another male encroaching on his territory. Because you’ve spent prolonged time at the house, seemingly to protect her and the child.” Hotch theorized.

“No…” Spencer said, putting the pieces together in his. “On the call, he said: ‘Such a funny way to talk about that whore you supposedly once loved.’” Spencer repeated it perfectly from memory, feeling a pang in his chest at calling you a ‘whore’, even if it wasn’t his own wording. “It was like he knew that me and Y/N dated before and broke up. Like he knows that Sebastian is a result of our previous relationship.”

“That is… strange.” Rossi remarked. “Do you think that Y/N might have mentioned your relationship to a friend, or a neighbor? Maybe… she might have confided in somebody?”

“It’s possible.” Spencer sighed. “But since she’s moved here, she’s surrounded herself with women. A female babysitter, fellow moms as her friend group.” It was something he had noticed in the more recent photos of Sebastian. “Our UnSub is a man - I don’t see her divulging those types of things to him, even if she didn’t know he was a potential threat.”

“Well either way, he knows. And he’s pissed off.” Morgan sighed. “I mean, the wording of this letter… it makes sense why he seems so hostile toward Reid. It’s not just anger toward a random man who’s encroaching on his territory - it’s a personal rage towards someone he feels could actually ruin his chances with Y/N if he’s built up this fantasy of having her in his mind over these weeks.”

Morgan picked up the letter and read some lines from it. “‘I will stab him in the spine, paralyzing him and forcing him to watch as I rape that whore - I will take her as my own while he pleads for mercy. I will show him what happens when weak men abandon their obligations. If Daddy wants to play, I’ll play too.’”

“Is that really what he thinks?” Spencer huffed, unable to hold back his emotions. “That I abandoned my obligations? Does he really think that-?”

“Reid.” Hotch said firmly, cutting off Spencer’s ranting. “Stay calm. What we really need to ask ourselves now is: how does he know so much about you? How does he know so much about your past that even we didn’t know?”

He added this on - seemingly taking offense to the fact that most of the team didn’t know that Spencer had a serious girlfriend in the past. A relationship that had resulted in a child.

Just then, Emily came back into the room.

“Garcia said the phone number goes to a public library on the other side of town.” She announced.

“Morgan, you and Prentiss go to the library - see if anyone there saw the UnSub or if they have any potential security footage of him.” Hotch ordered.

“Reid, see if you can convince Y/N to come into protective custody.” Hotch added on, turning his attention to the man on the phone. “With the UnSub being further along in his timeline than we thought, and seemingly being provoked by your presence, we really need to protect her and her child. Stress that fact to her. We need to keep a close eye on her until we can find a viable suspect.”

“Yes, of course.” Spencer replied, before ending the call.

Spencer splashed some cold water on his face, truly trying to pull himself together before he exited the bathroom.

It truly hit him, then.

This day wasn’t about some soft, sappy reunion with you and his son. This day was about the fact that you had been targeted by a dangerous, deranged killer. And he needed to do everything in his power to protect you from that horrible man.

A fresh, vicious wave of determination went through him - if he had to tear out the man’s throat with his teeth, then he would. He wasn’t going to let even the tiniest amount of harm come to you or his boy. Not today, not tomorrow, not ever.

He put on a smile, not wanting to potentially scare Sebastian with a frown or his trembling fear over what might happen. He tried his hardest to push all of it out of his mind for now as he walked down the hallway and back into the living room - where a musical cartoonish number was in full swing on the TV.

“You were in the bathroom for a long time!” Sebastian commented brightly. “Did you have to go poop?”

Spencer let out a laugh at this. This almost instantly lifted his mood - the fact that such a young kid didn’t have the sense of embarrassment or social constructs in order to know that it wasn’t really routine to ask someone what they had been doing in the bathroom. He easily found humor in Sebastian’s bluntness.

“Seb, what did we say about asking people about their poop?” You called out from the kitchen, clearly having heard the conversation.

(So this was a habit of his?)

“Sorry!” Sebastian called back. Sebastian then turned back to Spencer. “Your poop is only your business. Unless you have to tell the doctor about your poops.” He assured Spencer, clearly repeating something that his mother had told him.

Spencer nodded. “It’s all good, bud.” He said, smiling at Sebastian. “I’m gonna go talk to your mom, okay?”

“Are you gonna watch the movie with me?” Sebastian asked.

“I promise, I’ll watch whatever you want to later.” Spencer replied.

He made it a promise because he wanted to hold himself to it - he wanted to spend lots of days watching films with his son. And playing games, and teaching him things. He promised himself that there would be lots of time to do these things with Sebastian in the future because nobody would interrupt that for him.

But for now, he had to convince you to agree to protective custody so that the three of you could have the safety and security of a future together.

Sebastian seemed content with this answer and turned back to the TV, and Spencer ventured into the kitchen, where you were preparing dinner.

“Hey, Spence.” You greeted him gently. “I’m assuming that you’re staying for dinner? It’s nothing fancy, just some pasta with cream sauce, and chicken and broccoli.” You explained, gesturing around to the many items you had surrounding you - a pot of boiling water, and cutting boards with different vegetables, and one sequestered off in the corner with cut-up chicken pieces waiting to be put in a frying pan that was still heating up.

“Sounds good.” He easily agreed. “After dinner, we need to pack a bag for Sebastian, and you need to get some stuff together so that we can get you guys into protective custody.” He said, posing it more like a gentle suggestion than a question that you could say no to.

He truly hoped that he wouldn’t have to go into the graphic details as to why you needed the protection - why it was more urgent now. He hoped that he wouldn’t have to resort to telling you about the man who had threatened to go poking around in your insides with a knife while making him watch.

Not surprisingly, you completely ignored what Spencer said.

“Unless you prefer Turtle Mac n Cheese?” You said, instantly deflecting away from the topic, holding up a box of mac n cheese that had some cartoonish characters on it. They were green and looked vaguely like anthropomorphic turtles. Spencer guessed that this was what you were making for Sebastian’s dinner - most likely along with having him eat some broccoli, because you seemed determined for him to at least somewhat eat healthy. “I think that cartoon shapes really give it that extra gourmet flare.”

“Stop that.” Spencer demanded gently, taking the box out of your hands and placing it somewhere else on the counter. You frowned at him. “Stop acting like what’s happening isn’t a big deal. If you’re doing this because you’re frightened-”

“I’m not frightened.” You said, cutting him off. “I just don’t think that the FBI needs to be wasting resources on me when there’s people out there who are actually in danger. Or people who have dead loved ones who need answers.”

“Exactly.” Spencer pressed. He lowered his voice before he spoke his next words, though he knew it was unlikely that Sebastian would hear him over the movie playing on the TV.

“The man who sent you those flowers has already killed five other women.” He stressed, pointing behind you, toward the vase with the white carnations in it. He was surprised that you hadn’t thrown the flowers away after what he and JJ had told you. “Five women’s families are waiting for answers about who killed them. And you could be helping us-”

“I can’t help you, though.” You shrugged. “There are no men in my life. There’s nobody Spencer. There hasn’t been since I broke up with you.” You snapped, giving him a harsh glare - as though you resented him for ruining you, tainting your heart and leaving you broken.

The realization shattered him a bit more. All this time, he had been worried that you had moved on, that you were living a better life without him. But you had been just as lonely as he was - aside from the company of a small child that reminded you more and more of Spencer every single day.

Spencer took a breath, trying to focus.

“Just come into protection.” He pressed. “The FBI will take you to a safehouse, and-”

“A safehouse?” You scoffed. “How is that any safer than the house we’re currently standing in? Does it have bulletproof windows and a steel reinforced door? Or - or is it just a regular house with regular windows, and regular walls, and a regular door? Just like my house?” You chuckled sarcastically, moving to grab the cutting board with the chicken, shoving it into the now heated pan with the back of your knife.

Spencer’s nerves were grated on by your sarcasm.

“Dammit, Y/N!” He shouted, much louder than he intended to. “Can’t you see that I’m just trying to protect you?”

“Yeah, and where the hell was that attitude four years ago when I begged you to-” You swiftly cut yourself off, the words dying off in your throat, not wanting to rip open old wounds.

You tossed the items back onto the counter with a crash, only causing more tension in the air. You took in a sharp breath - suddenly, standing in front of the stove, you felt too hot.

You reached for the edge of your hoodie without thinking, and peeled it up over your head. You were wearing a thin camisole underneath, but surprisingly, your black bra being so visible through the thin white fabric wasn’t the thing that caught Spencer’s eyes as more and more of you was revealed.

There it was.

The four-pointed star necklace that he had given to you on your birthday was sitting in the middle of your chest, right where it belonged, glaring at Spencer, taunting him.

It became apparent to him in seconds that you had been wearing it all day. You had answered the door earlier that day wearing that pale blue hoodie, having no clue that Spencer would be on the other side. You had no reason to impress him, quite angered that he was even there in the first place, actually. So you had been wearing it under your hoodie since before then - since the beginning of the day, likely.

You had been holding it close to your chest as something precious - hiding it under your clothes as a secret, just for yourself.

If there was a single shred of doubt in Spencer’s mind that he had loved you more, that he had missed you more since the break-up, it was gone now. You hadn’t dated other men, and you had silently carried that symbol of him, as if unconsciously beaconing him back to you.

When you finally got the fabric off your head, you instantly noticed him gaped-jawed and staring at your chest. You wouldn’t have called him a pervert, because before you even glanced down to confirm that you had the necklace on - you knew. A terrible guilt struck through your gut, like you had been caught stealing something, and you froze up on the spot.

You and Spencer locked eyes for a moment, and his hands quivered with the terrible need to reach out and touch you - though in that moment, standing just across the kitchen from you, he felt a thousand miles away. He had a terrible need to hold you, yet he had never felt more distant from you. He had never felt more prohibited from touching you since the moment you had first grabbed his hand on that very first date.

How long had you wanted him back and said nothing? How many days had you woken up thinking about him, knowingly raised his son alone, and made no effort to contact him?

“I - I have to go change my clothes.” You said, your voice so utterly small. “Can you watch the stove?”

You didn’t wait for a reply before you turned and whisked off again, clearly too eager to escape the tension.

Spencer busied himself with watching over the food - stirring here and there, and starting the cartoon turtle mac and cheese based on its boxed instructions - trying desperately not to think about what all this meant.

When you came back, you were wearing a simple, light tee shirt. And it was easy to see that you had taken off the necklace and put it away somewhere.

…

Having Spencer there for dinner felt like role-playing as a family.

With Sebastian in his usual seat behind the dinosaur placemat, sitting between the two of you - it felt like something out of a strange, distant dream. He kept looking to Spencer for encouragement when he ate his broccoli and didn’t spill his juice, and Spencer stared at you across the table, having that constant fond look in his eye whenever he turned back to Sebastian or talked to him in that sweet, soothing voice.

Spencer also watched you, and tried to make it seem subtle. You noticed his eyes drifting over to your plate, ensuring that you were eating, as he had done many times before. You wanted to make another snarky comment about him pretending to care, but you kept your mouth shut.

It felt so shallow, and plastic, with the supposed threat hanging over your head; knowing that the only reason Spencer was there in the first place was because he believed that you were in danger.

Yet, it felt like something you had been doing all your life. It felt like just another night. Like Spencer had come home from work to this a thousand times; like you would get up and do the dishes and kiss him and then bring him to your bed for the night. It felt like that’s how things should be.

You really weren’t sure if you loved it or hated it.

You were nearly finished with your food and Spencer’s dinner was half-done, food getting cold on his plate while he encouraged Sebastian to finish up - when there was a knock on the door.

You expected it to be JJ again, pressing you about the protective custody thing. You let out a harsh sigh when Sebastian quickly wormed out of his chair and raced toward the door - eager to answer it himself.

“Seb!” You called after him. “What have I told you about answering the door when Mommy isn’t there?”

You raced after him and uncomfortably grabbed him up with a gut full of food, Spencer trailing behind you awkwardly.

“You’re here now!” Sebastian argued, laughter in his voice.

“Here, go with your-”

You abruptly cut yourself off, stopping yourself from saying ‘go with your dad’.

“Go back to the table with Spencer.” You told him, turning him around and directing him toward the man. You couldn’t bear to look him in the eyes, knowing that he could predict exactly what that verbal near-slip was. “I will answer the door.”

“Come on, bud.” Spencer encouraged him. “If you finish up all your dinner, we can have a treat later,”

He hated to promise something you hadn’t permissed, but he knew that you needed the distraction right now.

You unlocked the door and opened it, fully expecting JJ to be standing there patiently (likely having heard that entire exchange from behind the door). You were surprised when nobody was there, and instead, your eyes drifted downwards to a large brown envelope sitting on the step.

It didn’t seem to have any kind of shipping label on it - just your first name written on the front in bright red ink. It made you startlingly curious, at the same time, caused a tight knot to form in your gut. You picked it up, bringing it inside before you closed the door and locked it again.

You brought it back to the kitchen and placed it on the kitchen island, and of course, this caught Spencer’s attention where he could see you from his place at the table.

“Y/N, what is that?” He asked, unable to mask the frantic worry popping up in his voice.

“I don’t know.” You said, feeling slightly haunted by it yourself.

You moved to open the envelope, and before Spencer could stop you, something echoing in the back of his mind - chirps about potential poison or even a bomb - you had ripped it open and spilled the contents onto the counter.

Your insides quaked when you saw what it was.

Spencer rushed over to look at the items with you, and naturally, this drew Sebastian’s attention as well.

“What is it, Mommy?” He asked, marching over and trying to get a peek over the edge of the counter, but not yet tall enough to see - which you were thankful for.

“Did you finish all your dinner?” You asked, leaning over to look at him.

“I did!” He said proudly, nodding.

“Okay, then, why don’t you go into the pantry and pick a cookie?” You said, hoping that your sudden flood of worry and fear didn’t quake through your voice as you forced a smile for him.

“Okay!” He cheered brightly.

He ran off to the large cupboard beside the kitchen table, eager to pick between the varieties of cookies that you had there.

(Again, he was smart - but easily distracted. That you were thankful for.)

“Y/N-” Spencer gasped when he saw the items that had come out of the envelope.

“I don’t wanna hear it.” You said, your voice now quivering with tears you found yourself unable to hold back. “I don’t wanna hear about how you were right.”

You stared down at the items in horror.

It was several photos of you; very voyeuristic shots of you going about your daily life. Several of them including Sebastian when you had been doing perfectly innocent things - going shopping, playing at the park. Even pictures of the two of you playing in your own backyard. A view of you getting dressed through your bedroom window.

One of the photos - a photo of nothing more than the front door to your home - had a message scribbled across it in bright red marker.

‘Daddy misses you. Be home soon. xoxo’

“That’s not what I was going to say.” Spencer sighed.

He saw how horribly you were shaking - he saw the tears brimming your eyes. This time, he truly couldn’t help himself. He stepped around the counter, and upon instinct, he swept you into a tight hug.

Unconsciously, he caged you away from any potential danger with his arms around your shoulders - holding you like he would have when you had a nightmare or when you shied away from men you considered ‘creepy’ on the subway. Your arms wrapped tightly around his waist, your fingers digging into his back for comfort, clinging to him like you would have clung to a life raft at sea.

You broke into sobs, the sound muffled by his chest, and Spencer’s own heart stung - knowing that the true depth of the danger had finally hit you.

“It’s okay.” He told you. “It’s gonna be okay.”

He rubbed a flat palm across your back, hoping to comfort you in some way, even though he knew that the terror of the whole situation was mounting - and it was a horrible thing to face.

“Spencer-” You sobbed out, unsure what you even wanted to say.

“I’m going to make sure it’s okay.” He said firmly. “You know I won’t let anyone hurt you, right?”

It wasn’t even a question in your mind. The two of you had your problems back in the day, but you knew that Spencer would never let any harm come to you.

You clung tighter to him, savoring the moments while Sebastian was still distracted - likely sneaking more than the singular cookie you had allotted him to have, not that you cared in the slightest right now.

If there was anything else on your mind aside from the potentially crippling fear as the realization truly hit you, any room past the fact that you had been stalked and secretly surveilled by a murderer for weeks now; then you might have considered the fact that when you had woken up this morning, you never would have never thought that Spencer Reid, of all people, would be such a comforting touch to you.

Oh, how things change.

…

Spencer was hesitant to let you go from the hug.

But he had to call the team, because this was an important break in the case. And he had to see what kinds of arrangements they could make for you - if they could find a safehouse for you on such short notice, or if he would be taking you to the field office or the police station.

You cleaned the cookie crumbs off Sebastian and took him to the living room, trying to maintain some sense of calm while you turned on a random cartoon show on cable. He got out a puzzle and you helped him with it while Spencer stepped into the other room and dialed Morgan’s number.

“Hey, Reid.” Morgan greeted him. “How’s married life treating you?”

“Not funny.” Spencer replied, his voice short and frustrated. “The UnSub just delivered another package here. More photos. And a message. ‘Be home soon’. It’s pretty clear that he’s planning on making his move soon.”

“Woah.” Morgan replied. “Well, if Y/N didn’t want protective custody before, then I’m assuming that scared her into complying.”

“Yeah.” Reid agreed. “Where should I bring her?”

“Hold on.”

There were some voices clustered on the other end, and then, the next person to speak on the phone was Hotch.

“Reid… you’re not going to like what I have to say.”

“What is it?” Spencer prodded.

“Morgan and Prentiss got nothing at the library. So far, the only thing we’ve got on this UnSub is the fact that Y/N is likely his next victim, and he doesn’t seem eager to break pattern just because you’re in the house.”

Spencer didn’t like where this was going.

“You’re not insisting-?” He asked, and Hotch filled in the blank for him.

“Our only chance to catch him could be… catching him in the act. We could tie him to the other crimes if we catch him breaking into the house-”

“The house that my son is currently in.” Spencer huffed.

“We could bring the boy into protective custody. And leave Y/N there. We know that he never hurts the children, that’s not part of his MO.” Hotch offered meekly.

“But he gets some kind of catharsis from playing house.” Spencer replied. “If we move Sebastian, that might cause him to break pattern, and he could just move onto another victim.”

Then, something else occurred to Spencer.

“Also, we don’t know how he’s surveilling us.” He added on. “If he sees where we’re moving Sebastian, he might go after him.”

He considered that another woman - someone completely unsuspecting, someone unprepared, someone innocent with no way to defend herself - would be killed if Spencer made the wrong choice. It could be more than one woman if the UnSub got away and simply continued his patterns uninterrupted.

This was more controlled. The UnSub seemed determined to confront Spencer.

Spencer felt that was a confrontation he could win.

“We can have unmarked cars posted on every block. And the minute he breaches the house, you call it in. He won’t get anywhere near them.”

Spencer hated that it was their only choice.

“Okay.”

...

Keep reading here: Chapter Five - Brick By Boring Brick

#sundrop writes #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #spencer reid x reader #dad!spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you

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vivwritesfics · 7 months

Text

Christmas Sweater

Y/N learns to Knit. Daniel loves it (so fucking much)

Masterlist

"Happy November first!" Daniel Ricciardo cheered as he came down to his living room on the morning of November first.

It had been a weird morning already. Danny had woken up alone, something he wasn't used to. And, if he did wake up alone, Y/N was usually in the bathroom. Not this time. His girlfriend was nowhere to be seen.

So, he made his way downstairs. When he heard the television on, things in his head clicked into place. She'd gotten up early and gone downstairs to watch television, of course.

But then Daniel walked into the room and properly looked at what Y/N was doing. She sat on the couch with two thick knitting needles in her hands and yarn on the floor in from of her. Some of the yarn was a lovely dark red, some was white and some was dark green. "What are you doing?"

As far as Daniel was aware, his girlfriend had no idea how to knit. He didn't even know she had knitting needles. But she sat on the couch, knitting away, the two needles clacking together as she went. Her brow was furrowed and her tongue was poking out as she worked. No, Y/N didn't know how to knit.

When she got to a good place to stop, Y/N held up her needles, calling Daniel what she had been working on. "Grandma sent me some supplies so I could make you a Christmas sweater," she answered.

Daniel had a bit of a reputation in the F1 community. A reputation for his Christmas sweaters. The most notorious of the Christmas sweaters? Why, the jingle my bells sweater, of course.

"Baby," he said, drawing out the word as he sat beside her on the sofa. "You don't know how to knit."

She waved him off, dropping one of her needles. It slid out of the yarn, dropping to the floor. "I'm watching Youtube to learn, Danny," she said as she reached down to pick up the needle.

Instead of threading it back through the yarn, Y/N pulled out her other needle, pulled apart her work and started again.

Danny watched her. It was slow work at first, and he soon realised why she started so early on in the year. His eyes focused on her hands as she cast back on and began knitting once again.

Y/N had to stop and start several times before she finally got it right. Daniel sat on the couch with her, arm around her as she worked. Several times she held her knit work against his stomach (taking a moment to touch his abs. But, come on, who could resist?)

It took weeks, near to a month of constant work before Y/N finally finished with Daniel's Christmas jumper. She worked as they travelled, while she was supposed to be watching Daniel race.

It was perfect timing, really. She got it finished just before December began. Wrapping it up, Y/N placed it in a box, wrapped the box and finished it with a bow.

She gave it to Daniel on the first of December, exactly a month after he'd seen her start to make it. It was red with little green stripes and white reindeers that was clearly having sex.

"I love it," he said as soon as he unwrapped it. "You couldn't have done anything more perfect for me."

"Try it on then!" Y/N urged.

So, Daniel did exactly as she asked and tried on the jumper. He didn't take it off for the entire month of December. No matter what country he was in, he stayed in his Christmas jumper. No matter how hot and sweaty he got, he stayed in his Christmas jumper.

The best part of it? Y/N learnt how to knit. She began knitting everything. So, so many hats for winter. Gloves and scarves and blankets and sweaters and tops and bags. Anything Y/N could make, she did.

Daniel wore it all proudly. Where he used to wear his Red Bull and AlphaTauri shirts, he now wore whatever Y/N knitted for him.

#daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo smut #daniel ricciardo x reader smut #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo fluff #dr3 #dr3 imagine #dr3 x reader #f1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula one #formula one imagine #formula one x reader #formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader

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little-miss-vader · 1 year

Text

Ask Nicely

Pairing: Hayden Christensen x Actress!Reader

Summary: You landed a role in a Star Wars film and your co-star is none other than Hayden Christensen.

A/N: IM SORRY IVE BEEN GONE. I have had this one in my notes for a month and I finally decided to post it. Enjoy <3 i missed y’all

Warnings: Age gap!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! LIKE A BIG AGE GAP!!!!!! Oral, fingering, edging.

Word count: 4.5K

You were late. Again. The alarms you set had no effect on your will to get out of bed. Your entire body hurt from training for hours the day prior. It was intensive and hard on you. They had purposefully given you a heavier prop lightsaber to train with because you weren’t very strong to begin with and the crew wanted the real prop to look like it was a feather in your hands. Hayden, of course, breezed through it. Meanwhile, you had to take a break every hour to catch your breath and keep from throwing up.

You knew you had to get up now or you’d be in a fair bit of hot water but you couldn’t move. A soft knock was heard at your door and you groaned as you reached over to push your fingers against the screen of your phone with your eyes closed until you finally hit the “stop” button for your alarm. “Come in.” You yelled, hoping the person on the other side would hear you. A small click was heard as the door unlatched and the hinges made a squeaky sound that made you want to kill somebody.

“You’re not up yet?” Hayden’s voice rang through your ears and your eyes snapped open. You pulled the blanket over you subconsciously as you sat up wearing the sports bra and shorts you had trained in, you’d been too tired to even wash your face after yesterday and opted to just deal with changing and showering in the morning.

“I was so tired.” You said as he stood at the door. “You can come in. Or not, I mean you’ll be late if you don’t go now.” You stuttered as he crossed his arms and leaned his shoulder against the doorway, his leg across the other. Your eyes were glued to him, he was wearing baggy black pants and a white t-shirt that hugged his chest in the most drool-worthy way. His blue hat, which he very proudly represented his home country with, sat on his head and you loved it.

“That’s normal. They’re not expecting you to be perfect, Y/N. Take your time.” He shrugged. “Besides if I go now I’m just gonna be waiting around for you to get there and we’re supposed to train together. I’m already late, can’t be late twice.” He laughed softly. He was older than you by a fair amount of years. Hell, you hadn’t even learned to walk properly by the time he played his role as Anakin for the first time, yet he always treated you as an equal. You watched him for a moment before sliding your legs over the edge of the bed. With a slight wince you let your feet touch the ground. You felt him watch you and you scrambled to find something to say.

“Well I appreciate the gesture.” You said, keeping your cool, as you walked toward the washroom after grabbing new clothes from your suitcase that you hadn’t bothered to unpack. “Take a seat or something, I’ll be ready in ten minutes.” You called over your shoulder and you heard him walk in as the door closed behind him. He sat down on the small couch in your trailer and you got ready as quick as possible.

You threw your old clothes in the hamper as you emerged from the bathroom with a fresh set of the same clothes you had on before. “Time to go?” You smiled as you bumped your hip against his shoulder. Hayden looked up from his phone at you and nodded his head with an “mhm” and you smiled. “Come on then lazy bones.” You continued as you opened the door. Hayden rolled his eyes at your ironic remark and stood up from the couch.

“I’ve been up for three hours and I’m the lazy bones?” He questioned as he followed behind you, his hand pressed against the door and held it open as you walked out and he closed it behind the two of you. You laughed in response to his words. You looked over at him and your smiled dropped a bit. He was quiet, staring at his phone while the two of you walked. You fought the urge to peer over at his screen but decided against it.

“What’re you so quiet for, grandpa?” You asked with a small smile, the nicknames you’d given him had almost everything to do with his age and he’d stopped trying to give you shit for it.

“The mother of my daughter refuses to let me have her this weekend. Says I’ll be too busy to watch her.” He mumbled as he typed away on his phone. Your eyebrows furrowed.

“But you have the weekend off, and I always help watch her when you can’t. You have a whole crew of people here who’d do the same as well.” You started and he shook his head.

“It’s not really about that. She just likes making things specifically difficult.” He said as he put his phone away. “I’m not gonna worry about it. I have two days before the weekend to talk to her.” He said before looking down at you. The relationship you both had as coworkers was normal to you. Being friends with the guy you spent almost every day with seemed inevitable. When you’d arrived to begin working on the movie you were alone, your family was in another state and this was your first real job. Hayden kept an eye out for you, made sure you were safe. He drove you around everywhere and bought you food and whatever else you needed for the first month until you got paid. He still did those things now, but less so now.

There was speculations. Made by the media, fans, everybody really. You guys were often together. Pictures of you both walking with overpriced smoothies you had made him buy, the two of you sitting in the same car when he drove you to get your mail, going on a walk with his daughter when she came to visit him on set. Photos of you doing normal things were plastered all over the internet and seen as scandals. Some people said it was almost unprofessional to hang out with each other but you guys did the interviews and answered the questions. ‘He’s like my set-dad. I bother him more than anything. He’s taken great care to make sure I’m always okay. I came here with virtually nothing but a contract for the film.’ You recalled yourself saying with a laugh during an interview. ‘I see her like a younger version of me. When I was her age, I was kinda scared to be in LA alone. I chose to be a safe space for her. For me, being a dad, that was easy enough. Though, I guess from the outside looking in… It’d hard to understand because there was no context before but that’s why we’re here and answering this question now, right?’ He had said in response to your answer. You had found it hard to lie through your teeth about how you felt all the time. You had always admired him, he was your favourite Star Wars character and pretending he wasn’t the first crush you’d ever had was damn near impossible, but you did it with a bright smile and truthful eyes. Being an actor came to its advantages.

“Just let her do what she needs to.” You shrugged as you walked. There was no point in fighting these things, his daughter would see who she sided with when she was old enough to understand and think for herself. Hayden had commended you for having that outlook on the situation when you first said it to him.

“We have a table read after we train, 6 o’clock.” He spoke as he held the door into the large building open for you. The floors were lined with blue pads stuck together with velcro. You stepped in and immediately sighed when you saw a bunch of raised platforms. Today was the day you were to learn how to backflip with a saber in your hands. You said you wanted to do your own stunts but you didn’t know it would be this intense. You were just glad you would be attached to wires.

“If I live through this session I’ll see you there.” You grumbled. Hayden laughed as he went to the prop station to grab his own stuff as well as yours and brought it over to you. You mumbled a quick “Thanks.” with a smile and your hands grazed across each other as he handed your stuff to you. A blush boiled your cheeks to become a bright red colour and he didn’t even seem to notice what he’d done. You turned your back immediately and walked over to your trainer for instruction on where to start.

You both started off with the simple stuff, blocking one another and doing the small amount of choreography you had learned. Hayden was a fairly large man so doing this even when he was using a quarter of his strength made you grunt every time you had to block him. Sometimes it felt like he was giving you a harder time than what was necessary just to hear you make some noise. You pushed that thought to the back of your mind and continued on with your session.

— 3 Hours Later —

“Alright that’s all for today.” The young woman who was in charge of making you look way cooler than you were on screen yelled out and everybody stopped what they were doing. You let out a deep, content sigh as you let go of your prop saber and dropped to your butt on the padded floor beneath you. Your hair was stuck to your face as you opened your water bottle and practically drank it in one sip. You were too distracted by how thirsty you were to notice Hayden sitting next to you.

“Feeling okay?” He smiled. You rolled your eyes as you kept drinking your water and when you finished you crushed the plastic into a smaller vessel and threw it into the trash can beside you. “Nice shot.” He regarded quickly.

“Yeah. I’m okay. Just need to shower before the read.” You said and a groan escaped your lips as you pushed yourself off the ground. He immediately stood up and stood next to you. “Oh we’re walking together?”

“I mean..” He spoke and looked away for the smallest moment. “We always kinda do, don’t we?” He shrugged and you fought back a smile. Instead you gave him a nod.

“You’re right, we do.” You responded as the two of you made your way back to the trailers. His was farther than yours but he never made you walk him over, he always stopped at your trailer to drop you off before moving on to his own. You reached your hand into your bag and pulled out a small white and red pack of smokes and a matching red lighter. You slapped the top end against your palm gently as the two of you neared the fork in your journey’s.

“That’s why you can’t train without feeling like you’re dying, you know.” He mumbled as you pulled a cigarette out of the pack using your lip. You raised an eyebrow at him as you raised the lighter to the small stick.

“Acting like you’ve never smoked before again?” You mumbled as you struggled with your lighter in the wind. He stopped and turned to face you, raising his hands to create a barrier around your lighter and you sparked it with ease. “Thanks.” You inhaled deeply.

“You’re right I have smoked before but the difference herein lies in the fact that I actually was able to quit for my own well being.” He preached as per usual and you rolled your eyes.

“I’ll get to it one day. Just like you.” You gave him a fake smile and now it was his turn to roll his eyes. He clenched his jaw for a moment and your eyes watched the small muscle in his jaw move as he did so. He was so handsome it almost made you angry.

“I’m only trying to help, but you’re right. It never helped me when people urged me to quit. I just see so much of myself in you.” He shrugged and you almost choked on the smoke in your lungs. He sees himself in me? Damn, so do I. You thought.

“Alright, fine.” You pressed what was left against the sole of your shoe to extinguish the cigarette and threw it aside with a smile. “I shouldn’t be smoking around you anyways. I’m sure you miss it.” You shoved your hands in the pockets of the zip up hoodie you had brought with you as you approached your trailer.

“Oh, it’s not a big deal. The smell is good enough for me.” He pushed the door of your trailer open and gestured his hand in a way that said ‘after you’. You gave him a quizzical look for a moment before entering and he followed you. The door clicked shut behind you and he locked it, a gesture that made you feel a bit confused.

“You’re coming in?” You asked and he sat down on your couch again.

“The read isn’t for a few hours. Besides, my shower is only giving me cold water so I thought I’d use yours when you’re done.” He said and you stopped in your tracks. This was news to you. You didn’t question it. You sat down next to him and laid your head on his shoulder as you often did. You kicked off your shoes and raised your legs so that your knees rested on his legs that were propped up on the coffee table in front of the couch. “You smell like smoke and sweat.” He said with a fake grimace.

“Oh like you smell any better.” You rolled your eyes. “I’m too tired to deal with you right now.” You mumbled as your eyes began to feel heavy. A nap wouldn’t hurt anybody. A shower right after would wake you up and you’d be all set to go. It was a perfect plan. Turns out, he had a plan of his own.

Your eyes snapped open when you felt his finger slide under your chin, his thumb cradling it in place. He lifted your face from his shoulder and raised to to be level with his own. “Too tired to deal with me?” He whispered and you felt a shiver run down your spine. “Well.. I guess I could leave you be.” He began to pull his hand away but in a trance, your own hand snapped up to grab his wrist in an attempt to keep him from moving. You shook your head. You didn’t know what was happening but you would be insane to let him walk away. He smiled at you, his blue eyes shining brightly as the two of you stared into each others faces. You didn’t dare say a word, you barely even breathed. “What do you want right now?” He asked and you gulped.

“I-I don’t know..” You started and he moved his tongue gently to make a ‘tsk’ sound.

“I think you do.” He rebutted quickly and your cheeks began to burn again. “I watch you, I see how you act around boys your age. You act like they don’t exist. You have a whole coworker on this movie who’s head over heels for you, he’s your exact age and you don’t even look at him. Me though, what makes me so special? What makes you want to spend every moment with me?” He went on and his words made you feel like thousands of electric needles were being stabbed into your body. “Use your words for me.”

You swallowed but it felt impossible due to how dry your mouth had gotten all of a sudden. Your eyes were wide and you were sure you looked like a deer in the headlights. Your mouth opened and closed for a moment as you collected your thoughts. “I just.. I get along with you. I just.. I wanna be… I like..” You stuttered and pursed your lips with a sigh when you realized you couldn’t use your words. You squeezed your eyes shut and you heard him chuckle. His breath hit your face gently enough to make you let out a small desperate moan, so quiet you yourself could barely hear it.

“I think you want me kiss you, hold you close..” He started and your breath hitched in your throat and your eyes snapped back open. “Touch you..” His free hand trailed down your back as he turned his body to face yours. You shivered under his touch and his lips curled into a gentle smile. “I’d do it you know, only if you wanted me to.” His hand rested on the small of your back and his other hand still held your chin, his thumb made small windshield wiper movements on your cheek now and you leaned into it.

“I do.” You managed to spit the words out as you watched his eyes flicker from your lips to your eyes.

“You do what?” He urged, keeping eye contact now.

“I want you to kiss me.. Touch me..” Your voice dripped in a quiet desperation and he smirked once again.

“I mean if you say so..” He whispered and your hands grabbed the back of his head to pull him into you. Your lips connected and warmth spread through your body. A small grunt came from his end at the impact and it made you breathe heavier against him. His hands pulled you into his lap and you swung your leg over him as you sat on him. His hands gripped your hips, harshly holding you down against him. You tried to move so you could feel some sort of release but his grip was too strong. The idea made you whimper against him and his hands tightened as he pushed his chest farther into yours. You did the same, wanting to be as close as humanly possible. Your hands slid into his hair and his hat fell off his head behind your couch.

He broke he kiss to look at you, your chest heaved up and down as his gaze dropped between your bodies. “This couldn’t have come sooner..” Hayden mumbled as he let go of his grip on your hips to run his hands gently up and down your exposed thighs, squeezing gently when he’d get to the top. “Watching you run around in this, getting all hot and sweaty. It did something to me that I wasn’t proud of..” He whispered as he stared into your dilated eyes.

His hands roamed your body and stopped at the bottom band of your sports bra. His fingers lightly traced the under side of your tits and you jerked toward him. You pulled it off slowly and tugged on his shirt, pulling it over his head. His eyes were glued to your chest as he began to fondle gently at you. Your head leaned back slightly as you felt how warm his hands were against you. Your breathing was shaky and he pulled your head forward to look at him again, he was in such good shape and your hands desperately ran up and down his chest before trailing down to his abs. You stopped at the waistband of his pants and ran your thumbs over his v-line. You watched his face as small reactions washed over him at your every touch. He bit on his lip gently as you tugged at his pants ever so gently. You could feel something harden under you and your lips curled into a small smile. You pushed your hips down gently in a rocking motion and a soft noise stumbled its way through Haydens soft lips. With a triumphant smile you pulled his pants down and he kicked them away. He pulled you on to the couch and climbed over you with a smirk.

“I like it better this way.” He mumbled as he pressed his lips against the sensitive skin by your collarbones causing you to take a sharp breath and he chuckled. “Relax. Let me take care of you like I always have..” The words made goosebumps raise over every inch of your body and you let out a shaky exhale. His hands pressed into your waist and you were sure they’d leave some sort of mark. His movements were so rough yet so gentle and it caused your head to spin. Your hand reached between his legs and he grabbed it, putting it back where it was before. “I just wanna make you feel good… Don’t worry about me.” Hayden whispered against you as he kissed his way down your body, stopping to take extra long in the spots that made you squirm more. When he pulled at your shorts his eyes widened at the fact that you weren’t wearing any underwear.

“It’s just uncomfortable during training-“ He shushed you and shook his head with a grin.

“It’s hot is what it is.” He mused as he pulled them off and threw them aside. His fingers traced up your legs and another soft, desperate moan left your lips as he continued to kiss down your stomach. “Do you know how many times we’ve stood back to back or close enough to touch and you’re telling me the only thing keeping me from you was your shorts?” You bit your lip as his deep voice sent vibrations through the skin he was kissing away at.

“I guess so.” You smiled with shaky breaths. You yelped when you felt something warm press against you, long and slender. His finger pressed hard against your entire pussy and he could feel your pulse through the touch. You shook at the sudden feeling and your hand cupped your mouth. The trailers were well insulated but they weren’t sound proof and you knew that.

Hayden hushed you as he pulled his finger down to slide in between your folds, collecting the large amount of excitement you’d already created. A smile tugged at his lips before he pressed them against your swollen clit. He created a gentle suction as he pushed a finger inside of you causing your eyes to roll back. You pressed your head against the arm of the couch and your hand that wasn’t covering your mouth grasped at his shoulder as he pumped in and out of you. It wasn’t long before he added another finger and began to use his tongue against you. The soft flicking motion mixed in with the feeling of his long fingers made you bite your palm. The noise still came out of you and even though it was muffled it made him want to make you do it again. His movements quickened when he felt you get used to the sensations he was providing for you and it caused you to moan out again, this time it was his name. He hummed in approval against you and the action felt like a small vibration. You arched your back at the feeling and he pushed you back down, keeping a specific level of pressure on your lower stomach.

“Tell me when you’re close.. Ask me for permission.” He said and your eyes widened. You’d never done that before but you decided to give it a shot. It’s almost like him saying that made the process expedite itself. You felt a warmth begin to build in your stomach and you finally mustered up the strength to speak.

“Can I-“ You started and he stopped everything he was doing. Your eyes nearly bulged out of your head as your chest heaved and you sat up with the look of confusion on your face. “What the hell?!” You asked and he smiled. He pulled you by the legs so that you were laying down again.

“Not until I say so. I promise it’ll feel better.” He whispered, leaving kisses on your inner thighs. When he felt you begin to bring your breath back to normal he slid his fingers back into you. “Wetter than before… So eager.” He hummed as he began placing soft kisses on your clit. “Don’t forget to ask again okay?”

You nodded, his words and actions placed you under a trance of sorts. You’d do whatever he asked right now. “Okay..” You whispered and this time he didn’t use his mouth. He used just the two fingers inside of you, curling them, going faster, slower. All of it felt so much more intense than it ever had before. You’d been fingered but you’d never been pushed to an orgasm with just penetration. Your breathing began to become erratic again as small moans and gasps left your mouth. “Please… Please I’m so close.,” You whimpered and he stopped again. Tears welled near the corners of your eyes as you looked at him. You must have looked pathetic.

“Look at you, begging for me to let you cum. How adorable. You’re a mess.” He whispered, almost reading your mind, as he reached his hand up to your mouth. “Open.” He demanded and you parted your lips so he could slide his soaked fingers into your mouth. You moaned as you sucked yourself off him and he smiled. “Good girl.”

“Please..” You whispered as he pulled his fingers from your mouth and he shushed you again before placing them back inside of you. You squeezed your eyes at the feeling and squirmed when he began licking frantically at your clit while pushing your legs apart with his hands. Your entire body began to shake as you felt the familiar feeling come back like a bullet train. “Please.. Please can I?” You whimpered, begging him to let you feel the satisfaction of release.

“Yes.” He spoke against you and you couldn’t help the sounds from barreling out of you as your entire body shook. You saw dots in your vision as you felt warmth spread to every inch of your body and your hands gripped at his hair like your life depended on it. Your hips bucked around against him, completely out of your control. He slowed his tongue as you rode his face until you felt satisfied. When you finally stopped, you laid your head down with your eyes squeezed shut and your chest heaving. He climbed over you and left a kiss on your head. “You okay?” He asked as he sat next to your body on the edge of the couch, his hand rubbed soft circles on your stomach and you nodded your head.

“More than okay… I wanna do that forever.” You laughed as you finally figured out how to speak again. Hayden smiled.

“Well. We haven’t even started filming yet. We’ve got lots of time.” He said with a wink as he pushed his boxers down his legs and walked over to your bathroom. “You coming?” He called over his shoulder and you stood on your jelly legs to follow him with no question.

#hayden christensen x reader #hayden christensen #star wars #star wars anakin #anakin skywalker #anakin #anakin x fem reader #anakin skywalker x female reader #anakin x you #star wars x y/n #anakin star wars #sw anakin #anakin skywalker smut #anakin smut #anakin x reader

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many-shades-of-violence · 9 months

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with an s/o that has their jolly roger tattooed on their womb I Law, Luffy

characters: Law, Luffy

content: tattoos, implications of suggestive themes

requested by: @anonymous

Law, initially oblivious to the concealed tattoo adorning your abdomen, had two reasons for his ignorance: it remained hidden beneath your clothing, and as the captain of the Polar Tang, intimate moments were often a rare luxury.

However, on one scorching day, the crew made a decision to take a break on a secluded beach, seeking solace from the heat.

Law, typically drawn to solitude, found a quiet spot away from the group, relishing the peace and quiet.

When you emerged from the Polar Tang, accompanied by Ikkaku, donning a bikini that left little to the imagination, Law casually glanced up, expecting a simple greeting.

What met his eyes, however, was a breathtaking sight that left him momentarily stunned, a shiver racing down his spine.

His gaze locked onto the unmistakable Jolly Roger inked over your womb area, and for a moment, his analytical mind struggled to process the scene.

The whistles and catcalls from Shachi and Penguin only compounded his disorientation, and it nearly cracked his usually stoic demeanor.

Without hesitation, Law would employ his Devil Fruit ability, creating a Room to whisk the two of you away, needing to address the situation privately.

Typically indifferent to tattoos on his significant other, especially if they paid homage to his crew, the placement of your tattoo had stirred a tumultuous mixture of emotions within him.

Regardless of your explanation for the tattoo's location, the moment you place his hand over it, he would relent, his initial reservations giving way to a hint of vulnerability.

Law's initial flustered reaction would gradually give way to a realization that he found the tattoo exceptionally alluring.

In response, he would naturally seek positions during intimate moments where he could admire the tattoo, relishing in the visual of it.

Will cum on it.

Luffy, in his typical fashion, sprawls on the sun-kissed sand, heartily munching on a chunk of meat as the Straw Hat Pirates revel in the joy of the beach.

When his beloved approaches in a tantalizingly skimpy bikini, Luffy glances up, anticipating a friendly greeting.

His gaze, however, quickly zeroes in on the familiar Jolly Roger tattoo adorning their womb area.

An eruption of awe consumes Luffy, and he catapults to his feet, meat left behind, his finger firmly pointing at the tattoo.

With an exuberant cry of, "Whoa! That's awesome!" he captures the undivided attention of the entire crew.

Without hesitation, he dashes over to them, his grin stretching from ear to ear, utterly unperturbed by the scanty attire.

Luffy's enthusiasm knows no bounds; he insists on proudly showcasing the tattoo to all his companions, proclaiming their newfound status as an honorary Straw Hat member.

He might even propose an impromptu celebration, whether it's a beachside barbecue or a slew of lively, sand-between-your-toes games.

Throughout the day, Luffy wears a perpetual smile, lavishing his partner with affectionate gestures and showers of praise.

When intimacy beckons, Luffy's fingers instinctively find their way to the tattoo, caressing it with fervor, a testament to his love and pride.

Loves to pepper it with kisses or make it bulge when he fills you up to the hilt

#one piece #op #one piece x reader #writing #my stuff #trafalgar d law #trafalgar law x reader #luffy x reader #monkey d. luffy #monkey d. rufy #ruffy x reader

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ray935sworld · 11 days

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If you ever want to know why I love MotoGP more than F1, it's the mentality.

Don't get me wrong, the fancy F1 style which is mostly professional with some funny moments is perfect. But it's mainly glamorous. It's supposed to be the perfect Monaco sport.

MotoGP has the expensive aspect as well. But they are just a bunch of chaotic man that love motorcycles and no one is trying to change that for the media.

In f1 people get media training about the "Can you wank yet" question. The laugh about "lol" from max or the "if my mom had balls she'd be my dad" quote was quoted way too many times. The webber glass smash or the angry hat through from brocedes is still legendary. Lewis Hamilton and Nico Rosberg being "anything but lovers". I literally can't think of any significant media thing. Sorry.

Motogp is like... Let me post a picture of me touching my balls thorough my race wear. I think it was Quartararo who made a video imply that he's racing in fucking lingerie. They get ass smacks from their team before and after a session. Pecco and Bez are getting referred to as an old married couple. Rider jumping on (and fucking) each other in prac ferme. Jorge said that he'll marry his childhood rival in 2-3 years after they hugged (we know you're touch starved, Jorge but how good was that hig please?). Bez talking to Domizia (Pecco's fiance) and calling Bagnaia "OUR future husband". The Marquez brothers kissed ON THE MOUTH on International live TV. Martin and Aleix E. kissed each other in a club (I think it was them, no idea about the context). And Vale... He proudly said in an interview FFM porn is his favorite and he wants to be a member of the mile high club. I CAN GO ON.

AND IT'S NOT EVEN CONSIDERED EXTRAORDINARY BECAUSE EVERYONE DOES IT.

That's why motogp is better. Thank you for coming to my ted talk.

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elysiumarchieve · 2 years

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THIS IS ENTIRELY SELF INDULGENT BECAUSE I CANNOT CONTAIN MY EXCITEMENT RN AND I MADE THIS IN A HURRY DJSJFJS

gn! s/o reacting to his new outfit

warnings: 3.2/3.3 story spoiler??, posted before 3.2 update and story quest, self indulgent fluff because i love him so much, we waited for our dude for now almost TWO YEARS, happy scaramouche day scaramouche nation

✧ seeing him in blue was rather new to you, in all honesty, it actually shocked you when he finally showcased himself to you, his arms crossed before his chest as he waited for you to react to his new outfit

✧ after seeing the same black and red for years and not even the slightest change in his wardrobe either (as he said he had no need for new clothing), the sheer surprise on your face was to be expected

✧ you rubbed your eyes once, then twice, and then blinked real hard multiple times before looking back up at his face, but he only frowned at your reaction

✧ did he look bad? why do you react like that? not that i mattered to him, but regardless...

✧ you had to explain to him that blue was a completely new color on him, but in a positive way. after all, even his old hat was gone (however, you did mourn the veil that was now missing on him)

✧ when he scoffs at your excitement, you're happy that his attitude did not change - or rather, his god complex and huge ego combined with his superiority complex did tone down to an extent where he's finally able to keep up a conversation without looking down on everyone all the time (he still sneered at the traveler when he first saw them again, though paimon was quick to remind him of his defeat)

✧ his plan to become sumeru's new god failed and you couldn't be happier, especially after you saw the glowing anemo vision proudly attached to a cloth right before his chest, where his heart should be (a nice choice of placement was your only thought as you saw it for the first time)

✧ though you knew scaramouche well enough to know that he'd never admit to be amazed by the small gemstone, the smirk he gives you tells you otherwise - he can try and hide it all he wants, but you can figure out his true feelings behind that snarky gremlin face

✧ he prides himself a little over your reaction. it was expected of him to look good in whatever he wears, so it didn't surprise him that you were like this. he looks good whatever he wears

✧ if you want to continue following him, he won't try to stop you. after coming to a,,, mutual agreement with the traveler on how things are going to continue after he tried to kill them after he decided that he made up his mind, if you follow him even after betraying your trust just a little he'll be more than glad to let you accompany him

✧ you two regularly would head to tatarasuna and tend to katsuragi's grave whenever there was time to do so

✧ while his new fit did not change the fact that he was a litte shit at times, receiving his vision did change his view on the world - in your eyes, that also reflected in how bright his outfit was now, considering that before he wore the same monotonous black for years and now a bright and refreshing blue

✧ and sometimes you can sense that he's also happy about this change

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #headcanons #genshin #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche #kunikuzushi #wanderer #i love him #my little gremlin

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heartfeltcierra · 1 year

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Reacting to you making/giving them a friendship bracelet Pt. 2 (Zoro, Luffy, Sanji, Bartolomeo, Sabo and Law

AN- I hope you enjoy part two of OP character receiving a friendship bracelet! (You can find part one that included Roger, Ace, Shanks, Marco and Doffy here)

MasterList

Characters- Zoro, Luffy, Sanji, Bartolomeo, Sabo and Law

Warnings/Contents-Fluff, All SFW, Mentions of fights, Law's is a little angsty and a bit longer.

I'll be posting a marine version tomorrow night including Koby, Garp, Smoker and Issho

ʕ•ᴥ•ʔﾉ♡ More under the cut

Zoro

🍶 Zoro was confused at first but smirked seeing what it said “Best swordsman huh?” “You need to make one for curly brows that says “Dumbest cook.”

🍶 Immediately took that back saying he wants to be the only one you make bracelets for

🍶 He noticed there was some spare room on the bracelet, so he came up with a idea to fill the blank spots

“You were pretty tough.” Zoro said, putting his swords back into their sheath. “I’ll get my girl to add you to my bracelet.”

“Excuse me?” Despite being half dead, the bloody man lifted off of the ground with a rather angry expression. “What the hell does that mean?”

“You see this?” Zoro bends down, showing the man the many beads decorating the bracelet. “They represent my victories, and since I won against you, she’ll add a bead to it.” The man could only give Zoro a baffled look knowing he was now nothing more than a mere bracelet charm. “Anyways, nice fight and all but I gotta go. Which way is the exit?”

“To the left.”

“Thanks.”

“You fool, that's the right!”

(To bad the bracelet doesn’t have a GPS)

Luffy

🍗 Rubber boy was very excited when you gave it to him

🍗Would walk up to strangers to show them saying “Y/N made me this, I bet you're jealous!”

🍗The only person that was genuinely jealous was Sanji

🍗 Tries to take good care of it, note TRIES

“Y/n…..” You look and see Luffy peeking his head into your room with an unusual gloomy look on his face.

“What’s wrong Luffy?” He padded over to you and laid the bracelet, or more like parts of the bracelet in front of you.

“It broke earlier during the fight. ” You knew from his tone he felt bad. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay!” You rummaged through the remains and smiled realizing the damage wasn’t irreversible. “I can fix it.” The frown on your captain’s face was finally replaced by that wide smile you know and love. “I’ll even make it more durable so it’s harder to break!”

“You’re the best.” Luffy nearly sent you to the floor as he snaked his limbs around your body. “Also can you make one for my other wrist?”

“Sure what do you want it to say?”

“Meat.”

(I mean it’s Luffy, what did you expect?)

Sanji

💛-You might as well have proposed to the man

💛- Picks you up immediately and starts spinning saying “We might as well plan our wedding~”

💛- A little bummed to hear you weren’t proposing, but is still eccentric that you made him something

“What kind of fighter doesn’t use his hands?” The beaten looks up at Sanji

“Listen pal, my hands are only meant for two things. For Cooking…” His serious face scrunches up to his signature lovestruck idiot. “And for wearing bracelets made by my dear Y/N-Swan~”

(Please make this man more bracelets)

Bartolomeo

💚 -His soul ascends into the clouds seeing that you made him something (Bonus points if your a straw hat pirate)

💚-Would fall to the ground and cry for a good half hour claiming he was “unworthy.”

💚- But despite loving the bracelet, he NEVER wears it

“Look at what was bestowed upon me.” He proudly holds up a small display case. “A friendship bracelet handcrafted by none other than Miss Y/N.”

The entire Strawhat lovers congregation would ooh and awe at the encased bracelet.

“I could sit all day and bask in the sheer awesomeness.” Bart hits the floor with tears running down his face. “I just…I love her so much.”

“Oh no boss man’s going down!”

“What do we do?!”

“I don’t know, but we better figure something out. Were losing him!”

Luckily after a cold towel and some fanning, the Barto Club was able to revive their green haired leader.

(Please do not make this man any more bracelets , unless you want to send him into a coma.)

Sabo

🎩- You had no idea what you were really getting yourself into

🎩-You know how people flex their engagement rings? Yeah Sabo’s going to do that… a lot

🎩-“Oh this thing? Well my beautiful Y/N hand crafted it for m-“ Would go on and on when literally no one asked 💀💀💀

“Y/N come quick it’s Sabo!” You follow Hack in a full blown panic as he leads you down to the RA’s infirmary.

“Sabo!” You see him lying in one of the beds breathing heavily with a towel on his forehead. “What happened?”

“Y/N….” You rush to his side and he takes your hand in his. “I’m sorry. But…” Tears roll down his face. “I promise I did everything in my power to save it….”

“To save what Sabo?”

“My…..my…..MY BRACELET.”

….

“I’m leaving.”

“Why?” 🥺

“Sabo you literally went into shock, scared everyone half to death and ended up hospitalized , over a bracelet.”

“But it’s not just any bracelet.” He frowns. “You made it for me.”

“And I’ll make you another one.” You playfully roll your eyes. “So tell me what exactly happened to it?”

“To be honest, I burned it off accidentally.” He nervously scratches the side of his head. “I’m still not quite used to my new powers.”

“I see.” You nod. “I’ll see if I can somehow make one that’s fireproof.”

“You will?” The blonde smiles and wraps his arms around you, pulling you down with him on the bed. “I love you so much!”

“I love you too.” You let yourself relax into his hold. “With that being said, can you promise me that you'll never do this again?”

“You have my word not only as the chief of staff, but also as your overly dramatic boyfriend….. that I may do this again.”

(Sabo is a absolute drama queen and you cannot tell me otherwise)

Law

🫀- And the crowd goes mild

🫀- Literally had no initial reaction

🫀- Law would stare at it, then back at you, then back to the bracelet, then back to you

🫀- Poor man is not good at showing his emotions, so bear with him

“Why?” Law gives you a confused look while staring at your labor of love.

“Because I wanted to.” You shrug your shoulders, a little hurt seeing the lack of reaction.

“I see.” Law doesn’t put the bracelet on, instead he puts it in his pocket. “Thank you.” He immediately turns his attention away from you and goes back to working.

“Sure” You turn away with a frown. “I’ll go now, see you later.”

The second you leave the room Law is pulling that bracelet back out of his pocket while sporting the deepest shade of red on his cheeks.

He was so caught off guard and over the moon because of how cute and excited you looked while giving it to him that he completely went brain dead.

But he was now back to his senses and remembered the frown on your face as you left the room.

~~~~

You were laying on your bed sulking when you heard a knock on your door followed by a “It’s me.” You recognize your boyfriend's voice, but you're still hurt from earlier so you don’t reply. Instead you bury your face deeper into the pillow

“SHAMBLES.”

“I didn’t say you could come in…” You spoke into the “pillow” which is now none other than Law.

“You also didn’t say I couldn’t.” His tattooed arms pull you closer into his chest.

“Guess not.” Despite being angry at him, you can’t help but enjoy the closeness. “Is there something that you need, captain?”

“Yes there is actually.” Law says in a matter of fact tone “I have a very important task to assign you to.” You look up at him completely confused. “I need you to make me a bracelet with our jolly Roger on it.”

“You want another bracelet?” You pull back from his hold. “I didn’t think you liked the first one I gave you.”

“I didn't like it, I loved it... see.” You smile seeing the bracelet was in its rightful place on his wrist. “So do you think you can do it?”

“Of course I can.” You jump up from the bed and run over to your desk that was covered in different colors of twine. “I’ll work on it right now!”

Law feels relieved seeing the smile he fell in love with back on your face. Mission accomplished. He was about to leave the room to let you work, but couldn’t help but notice a huge pile of bracelets sitting in a basket on your dresser.

“Damn Y/N you really like making these don’t you?” Law said while rummaging through the bracelets.

“Law, wait!” It was too late, he was already holding the cheesy couples bracelets you made out of self indulgence. “I umm. I just made these for fun..”

“Oh really?” Law smirks while spinning the bracelet around his finger. “If you don’t mind, I think I’ll take this one with me.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” Law nods before throwing the other bracelet into your lap. “And you should wear yours too.”

Law leaves you an embarrassed mess, but at the same time, despite his “cool guy” act, he was just as embarrassed if not more. Why does she have to be so cute???

(Won’t say it out loud, but is loving the fact he now owns a bracelet that say “I ❤️ Y/N”)

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user211201 · 1 month

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Branded

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Originally posted on 2020-05-27 by dumb-and-jocked

Unfortunately dumb-and-jocked's account has been deactivated.

If the original author ever reads this: thank you for all your works!

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Zane wasn’t particularly excited about going out to his uncle’s ranch. The two had never really known how to connect, with one being from the East Coast and the other in rural Wyoming. Zane had grown up privileged in the urban lifestyle, with many stores, jobs, and more progressive influences around every corner. His parents were also a little richer than most, so he was able to enjoy a luxurious apartment all to himself while he attended Yale. Well... not all to himself. His boyfriend Kaeden visited so often he was practically a second resident, but Zane didn’t mind--he loved the attention.

Zane practically adored his modern lifestyle, and made sure to show it by never leaving a five-mile radius. This caused his parents to worry, assuming if he didn’t start now he’d never know how to go out on his own. Trying to help (like all parents did), his father spoke with his brother and the two set up a little spring vacation for Zane. When Zane’s father had proposed the idea, Zane didn’t exactly jump in excitement. In fact, he didn’t seem excited at all.

“Really?” Zane asked coarsely. “Spring break is for beaches, coasts, actual fun!”

“Zane,” his father replied coolly. “I didn’t raise you to be a leech off of my own money. Go out to your uncle’s ranch and give him a hand; earn something for once. And anyway, Wyoming’s great this time of year--you might enjoy it!”

“Can I at least bring Kaeden with me?”

His father’s eyes went down for a moment. Zane always had a lurking feeling that his father wasn’t truly alright with his only son being gay, his Western Christian roots molding him that way, but his dad always acted like he was accepting. Proving Zane’s point, he swore he could’ve seen his dad’s ears perk up a second after the proposal was made.

“That’s a great idea!” his dad cheered, almost too enthusiastically. “Now someone can relish in the same pain you’ll be experiencing.” Zane rolled his eyes in response to the sarcasm before walking out to his car.

Reflecting back on that moment, his father did seem a little more eager than usual, but Zane didn’t care. It was too late now, as the old pickup truck was pulling into the driveway of the ranch. A huge arch loomed above them, displaying “WELCH” in iron letters across the top. Back when it used to be his grandparents’ ranch, Zane’s father loved this place. He used to thrive as a cowboy, but once he got a taste of the other side of the Mississippi, he left the lifestyle behind him. The rest of the family seemed alright with the transition, with Zane’s uncle being the older brother anyway, meaning he would be taking the ranch, so they decided to let him roam. His uncle had now been running the ranch for almost ten years, just him, his wife, and a small crew to help with the daily tasks.

“Alright, boys, enjoy the trip,” the man in the front grunted as he halted to a stop. Kaeden and Zane slowly jumped out of the truck, grabbing their bags as they looked at the massive farm. Zane swore it looked bigger than the last time he was here, but that was to be expected. The last time he was here was a decade ago for his grandparents’ funerals, so there was probably going to be change. While Kaedan gazed around in awe, Zane spotted what--or who--he was looking for. Leaning against one looming building was a tall man wearing a blue button-up and worn-out jeans. His large boots were placed firmly on the ground and a barn wall, while a beige hat rested proudly on top of his head. He looked like a more muscular, worn-out version of his father, his similar salt and pepper stubble pulling the whole look together.

“Zaney boy, is that yeu?” the man asked in astonishment, the southern accent as prominent as ever.

“Yeah, Uncle Treyton.”

Zane tried to sound enthusiastic, but he never felt like family with the redneck. Not only did the two have completely different perspectives, but they didn’t even look related. Zane didn’t share the same muscular body as the silver fox, but instead had a little too much meat on his bones. He also didn’t get the Welch height, with Zane’s lime-dyed hair barely even reaching his uncle’s neck.

“And this must be Kaeden Sargent, put it here!”

Zane’s uncle shoved a meaty hand in front of him and Kaeden quickly accepted. He was always more optimistic than Zane, putting his best foot forward into every situation. The tall, lanky man took the other’s hand and shook it vigorously, so much in fact that his ginger curls bounced in a rhythm. Fortunately, the baby fat surrounding his face allowed him to act a little childish.

“Firm, that’ll go a long ways here, son.”

“Thanks, sir.”

“Ah, y’all can call me Treyton.”

Kaeden and Zane exchanged looks at each other. For a Christian cowboy, he was awfully accepting of their relationship. Neither of them expected Zane’s uncle to be so understanding.

“Where’s Aunt Joelene at?” Zane inquired as they hauled their bags inside.

“Her and the lady folk already had a vacation planned, so she ain’t gonna be here this week. Just some good ‘ol male bonding!”

He led them to two guest rooms on opposite sides of a hallway, telling them to toss their individual bags into one or the other. Zane and Kaeden exchanged looks again, although this time it was for a different reason. They both knew they might be staying in different rooms, but not sleeping.

All of a sudden, the doorbell rang from the front of the house. After dropping their things, Zane and Kaedan followed Treyton back out to the front door. The trio wandered out to the foyer to see another cowboy smugly standing on the porch.

“Harry!” Treyton shouted as he swung the door open. “‘Bout time ya got here--the nephew’s in town.”

Harry looked over at Zane, inspecting him and then Kaeden with hawk eyes. His tight black shirt didn’t hide the impressive muscles from years on the farm. The same could be said for his faded jeans and massive belt buckle, both of which did nothing to camouflage his gargantuan pouch.

“Is yers that paddy?” he remarked with a deep voice, his accent as thick as Treyton’s. “Or the fag.”

“They’re both fags,” Treyton corrected. “The paddy’s his ‘boyfriend’.”

Kaeden patted Zane’s shoulder in a comforting way. Treyton’s language had just confirmed that they had signed themselves up for a long vacation.

“I don’t mean to be abandonin’ y’all so quickly, but the town’s rodeo’s goin’ on tonight and I’m a volunteerin’,” Zane’s uncle began. “Everythin’ there is free, so I expect to see y’all out there. It’ll be a great time!”

The two hicks strutted over to Harry’s old pickup truck, the engine roaring mighty proud as it came to life. Zane and Kaedan wondered how they hadn’t heard it coming down the driveway.

“Keys are on the counter!” Treyton hollered as they drove off. Kaeden smirked lowering his hand from Zane’s shoulder to his butt as they watched the other pair leave.

“Might as well taint your uncle’s house before we go to the rodeo.”

“You really want to go to that thing?” Zane whined, missing the hint.

“No, but we should,” Kaeden replied. “Until then, let me keep you entertained.” He then started kissing Zane’s neck passionately, dragging him down a hallway.

“Alright!” Zane giggled, following along. He loved his boyfriend.

— —

Kaeden and Zane hesitantly pulled into the parking lot, the dirt flying into the air as they parked the rusty pickup near the back. The whole event took place in some kind of stadium, but instead of a neatly trimmed field with shiny seats, there were wooden bleachers and a dirt floor. They weren’t particularly excited, going from hardcore sex to this dump, but as long as they were at each other’s sides they’d make it through. At least, that’s what Zane kept telling himself.

The two cautiously jumped out, wearing sweatpants and matching concert tees from an event they went to on their fifth date. Zane had thought that if they wore their most casual clothes, they’d blend into the crowd, but it turned out this was truly his first rodeo. Walking up to the front gate, they saw a rainbow of button-ups scattered among the stretched and stained tees. Hicks and cowboys galore excitedly hollered as they entered the rodeo grounds. The strange thing was, it seemed like people were gathering by color. Zane and Kaeden watched the red button-ups slowly separate from the yellow tees, who themselves avoided the purple plaid-clad group. Even with the odd formation, the pair stuck out like two weeds in a freshly-planted garden.

“Alright next!”

Zane and Kaeden had been so perplexed by the entire situation that they hadn’t noticed they had crossed the parking lot, gotten in line, and made it to the front.

“Zaney boy, ya made it!”

Zane’s uncle proudly stood behind a booth, waving as the boyfriends walked up. Harry was placed on the other side, his look much more calculating than Treyton’s inviting smile.

“Are y’all excited?” Uncle Treyton asked, his accent coming out stronger with each syllable.

“Totally,” Kaeden answered, assuming his other half wouldn’t.

“Let us just stamp y’all and yeu’ll be on in.”

“Wait, why are we the only one’s getting stamped?” Kaedan observed. Zane hadn’t noticed, but all the other attendees had gotten in without a mark.

“Remember how I said y’all are gettin’ in free tonight,” Treyton explained. “This is yer free ticket.”

They nodded their heads as Kaeden extended the back of his hand out to Zane’s uncle. Treyton solidly pressed a stamp down on his hand, the blue color left behind sinking deep into his pale skin like a tattoo. Zane proceeded to do the same for Harry, who marked his hand with a black darker than the night itself.

“What do the colors mean?” Zane questioned.

“Whatever ink we’re usin’.” Harry snarked, sending him on his way. Zane sighed as he strolled through the gate.

“I’ll be at a food stand later tonight so make sure to come and visit me!” Treyton shouted as they disappeared into the crowd.

“We can do this,” Kaeden whispered, grabbing Zane’s hand and dragging him to the stands. He sounded reassuring, but Zane couldn’t tell if it was for him or Kaedan himself.

“It’s just for tonight,” Kaedan continued, “After that, we won’t have to deal with Harry, or anyone for that matter. Except for your uncle of course.”

Zane grinned--his boyfriend always knew how to cheer him up.

“And besides,” Kaeden continued. “Look at how much we have to explore!”

It might have been a bit exaggerated, but there was a some space to venture. Besides the stands, there were a few porta potties, some food stands, and a big tent filled with gear for the local country radio station. The tent was their first destination, looking through all the merchandise and advertisements. Although they both hated country music, they had fun exploring the booth, even signing up for a raffle to a Chase Rice concert. Did they know who he was? No--but they didn’t care. Even though they got a few sideways glances from passing families and couples, they were actually enjoying their time at the rodeo. Zane and Kaeden were there to have fun just like everyone else.

9.8 SECONDS! THAT WAS A GOOD TUSSLE, DAVE!

The pair watched on as the participant was whipped off the horse’s back. The first few rounds had looked painful, but Kaeden and Zane eventually stopped flinching after every contestant. It was the sport after all, so they shouldn’t be worried unless everyone else was worried. The uncomfortable thing was, everyone at the rodeo did seem slightly on edge, but it wasn’t over the participants. Unsurprisingly, it was over them.

“Hey,” Zane said, elbowing his partner to grab his attention. “Is it me or is there something strange about the crowd here?”

“You mean how they’re all looking at us like we’re sick?” Kaeden asked, not tearing his eyes away from the next contestant.

8.7 SECONDS! IMPRESSIVE GRIP FROM HANK!

“Well, yeah, but that’s not what I’m talking about.”

“What’s on your mind?”

“I don’t know, I mean…” Zane stumbled off, noticing Kaeden was still focused on the riders.

9.4 SECONDS! NICE JOB MARV!

“Earth to Kaedan!” Zane snapped, finally snatching the other’s attention. “For example, did we miss out on some color-coded theme? Why is everyone segregated?”

Kaeden glanced around the stands, noticing what his boyfriend was talking about. Although everyone was clumped together, there were noticeable separations. It seemed like groups of men, women, and children were organized by the shading of their clothes. It was peculiar, but so were most small, rural towns.

“Calm down, babe,” Kaeden replied nonchalantly. “It’s probably just some cheerleading thing, you know? Like someone’s family wears orange because their their fanclub.”

“Yeah, I guess that makes sense,” Zane conceded.

10.1 SECONDS! I’D EXPECT NOTHING LESS FROM RYLAN!

“You’re probably just paranoid from all the homophobia around here,” Kaeden reasoned. “But luckily, I know what’ll cheer you up.”

“Oh really,” Zane responded coyly.

“Definitely, meet me at your uncle’s food stand and I’ll get us some snacks.”

“Alright, but I’m gonna head to a restroom first.”

“Miss me!” Kaeden exclaimed as he rushed down the risers. Zane grinned, knowing he was lucky to have snagged his boyfriend.

— —

“Ah! Sorry,” Zane grunted as he shimmied out of the porta potty door, noticing the growing line that had assembled outside. He thought he hadn’t taken too long, but when one’s bowels beg for release, one has to give in. Walking with a little pep in his step, he eagerly bounced his way around the rodeo grounds to find his uncle’s food stand. Kaeden knew Zane had a soft spot for food, which was pretty evident by the soft spots around his hips. He was excited to see what he had gotten for him. After wandering around for a minute, he finally spotted his uncle stepping outside an old trailer.

“Uncle Treyton!” Zane shouted as he approached.

“Eh, Zane! What’s up? Enjoyin’ the rodeo?”

“I guess?” Zane replied honestly. “Have you seen Kaeden?”

“Ah yeah, he was my last customer for the night. I saw him walkin’ over to the picnic area,” Treyton grunted, locking the door to the trailer as he closed up.

“Thanks!” Zane responded, beginning to walk off.

“Hold on there, cowboy!” Treyton demanded, chuckling at his own irony. “I’m gonna be headin’ back to the ranch, gotta long day of work tomorrow, so make sure y’all don’t stay out too late.”

“Sounds good, Uncle Treyton!” Zane started again, desperately wanting to get back to Kaeden.

“AND!” Treyton emphasized. “Harry wanted to see ya ‘bout somethin’ before ya left. He should be at the stables.”

“Great, thanks!” Zane tore off, almost kicking up the dirt behind him as he darted back towards the porta potties. He made it to the picnic area in record time, almost panting as he slowed down. The so-called “picnic area” was really just a group of tables resting behind the bleachers, with no real purpose besides having a surface to eat at. Zane searched for Kaeden, but it seemed like the place was totally empty. The only person he saw was a man sitting alone, ravenously scarfing down an order of nachos. He was wearing a blue plaid button-up and the same straight, overused jeans as every other man at the rodeo. He also adorned a cowboy hat, a quite brawny body, and a bulge much larger than both Kaedan and Zane’s combined. The cowboy looked to be in his late 20’s, but his brunette chin strap and mustache combo made him seem older. Zane approached the other man delicately, noticing the redneck’s very large boots tap eagerly as he chowed on his food.

“Um, excuse me…” Zane mumbled quietly. “I was wondering if-”

“Zane!” the man jumped up from his seat. “I was worryin’ ‘bout you! Thought you might’ve gotten stuck er somethin’.” Zane shook his head, confused at who the low-pitched, southern gent was exactly.

“I’m sorry, who are you?”

“Zane, it’s Clayton!” he paused, waiting for Zane to remember.

“Clayton Sherman?” Zane was still bewildered, until something clicked in his head.

“Wait, Kaedan?”

“No, Clayton. Didja hit yer head or somethin’?”

Zane felt a little crazy, but something supernatural was pulling him towards this stranger. He didn’t know what the force was, but his curiosity guided him.

“One sec, just let me check something.”

Zane grabbed Clayton’s right hand swiftly, finding the same blue stamp that his boyfriend had received earlier. Although it had faded dramatically, it was good enough proof for Zane.

“Kaedan, what happened to you? How did you become like this? What happened after you left the stand?” Zane must have been hallucinating. There was no way his long, slim, ginger lover had become some horse-kickin’, tobacco-spittin’ cowboy, right?

“First off, it’s Clayton,” Clayton responded calmly. “And I did exactly what I said I would. I went to yer uncle’s stand and got us some food. He told me he’d give us ‘somethin’ special’ and slapped my hand, saying it would be on the house. Can you believe it? These darn nachos were free!”

“Alright,” Zane quickly remarked. “Then what?”

“Well, I waited for ya, but the nachos kept lookin’ at me. So, I thought ya wouldn’t mind if I took a bite. One bite became two, then three, and now we’re here.” Clayton showed Zane the empty box, beaming a childish smile.

“Kaedan, I don’t under-”

Suddenly, Zane grabbed his head as he felt a shock go through his skull. He grimaced as it coursed through his brain, causing him to shake momentarily before regaining his thoughts. As fast as the pain had come, it had disappeared too.

“Y’all ok there?” Clayton asked, patting Zane’s shoulder in a brotherly way.

“Yeah, I think so,” Zane blinked. “What were we talking about again?”

“How I ate all the food!” Clayton hollered, laughing at himself in a low guffaw. “We oughta get back to the rodeo though, Little Petey’s going up soon.”

“Little Petey?” Zane mumbled to himself as the two hoisted themselves up. At first, he didn’t recognize the name, but the more he thought about it, the more memories that seemed to appear. Little Petey was Clayton’s little brother of course! Both Clayton and Pete Sherman were expert horse riders, having both broken records for steer wrestling and bull riding. They’d also been the star quarterbacks for the town back in their prime, but now with Pete turning 26 and Clayton having his second kid on the way, they were ready to settle down and start (or continue) their families.

“Yeah! I gotta run on back to Cassie and Trevor. Nice seein’ ya round these parts again!”

Clayton tossed the empty carton into the trash and ran off back to the stands. Zane watched the man dash up the wooden bleachers to his wife and first boy, embracing them as he sat down to continue watching the show. He sunk right back into the cluster of blue, completely camouflaged by the other people in the crowd. Zane didn’t really know Clayton, just remembered him as someone who worked at his uncle’s farm. He seemed nice, but definitely not friend-material. He had a little too much homophobia and country in him. Zane stopped for a moment to correct himself. Clayton didn’t have a little too much; he had a lot of too much.

8.3 SECONDS! LET’S HEAR IT FOR MIKE!

Deciding he had nothing else to do, Zane started heading back towards the parking lot. Although the event seemed kind of interesting, Zane was too lonesome to really find any joy in the situation. Even his uncle’s presence would’ve made him want to stay, but with no one there by his side, Zane decided to head out. Right as he stepped through the gate, he suddenly recalled his uncle saying something about Harry wanting to see him. He didn’t like Harry, and he assumed it worked the other way around too, but Zane knew he should respect his uncle’s wishes.

8.9 SECONDS! DANNY’S HERE TO STAY!

Zane stumbled into the area housing the horse stables, the place completely deserted besides the rolling tumbleweeds. Strolling past a few horse-buses, it didn’t take long to find Harry. He grinned as Zane approached, holding a lasso in one hand.

“‘Bout time you got here, thinkin’ you got lost er somethin’.”

“Wish I would have,” Zane mumbled to himself as Harry tossed an arm around his shoulder. Harry suddenly seemed more cheery than he had been before.

“Did yer uncle tell ya what yer doing here?”

“No, but I hope it’s not too long; I’m getting tired.” To emphasize his point, Zane faked a huge yawn.

“Not that, fag,” Harry chuckled, dropping down one end of the rope. “I mean this vacation.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Back in high school, yer pops, uncle, and I used to be the studs of the town. Valuable players, intimidatin’ cowboys, 100% corn-fed beef. But when yer pops was offered an education out east, the three of us fell apart.”

“Yeah, so what?”Zane was uninterested, finding the cowboy’s bulge as the only thing appealing about Harry. Zane had a bad habit of checking out other men when he was single.

“Well,” Harry continued, dragging Zane into a stable. “When yer pops saw how off-track he had raised ya, he called up Treyton and I to put a little country in ya. We knew we were gonna have fun, but when ya brought along that Irish laddy too, that was just a cherry for the top.”

Zane shook his head in bewilderment. Who was Harry talking about? He had obviously come here alone.

“See, originally Treyton wanted you as part of his ranch, but when yer boyfriend came he decided to pass the sweeter treat off to me. I think yeu’ll really-”

“Woah, slow down a moment,” Zane rubbed his temples, losing track of everything.

“Ah, I fergot about the mental stuff,” Harry contemplated, thinking about how to explain everything. He had to find a way to explain it all to the boy.

“Remember how everyone in the stands was segregated by their clothin’ color?”

“Yeah?” Zane clearly remembered, as he had stuck out like a sore thumb, but he didn’t understand why this was important now.

“Well, they’re all branded to some ranch, that’s why they stick to one color.”

Harry’s answer made sense to him, but Zane was still visibly perplexed.

“Look at Kae- I mean Clayton Sherman,” Harry started. “He works for yer uncle’s ranch. What color to they wear?”

“Blue?”

“Exactly!” Harry slapped Zane’s back, knocking the wind out of the other man.

“Every color here is for someone’s ranch. Blue is Welch, green is Smith, white for Johnson-”

“How... how many are there?” Zane stuttered, the pieces gradually coming together.

“10, ‘cluding myself,” Harry responded proudly.

“So what you’re saying,” Zane reasoned. “Is that these ranch owner’s ‘brand’ people to be part of their ‘ranch,’ claiming them as their property?”

“Eeyup.”

“And why are you telling me this?”

“Thought you oughta know beforehand.”Zane was about to ask what that meant, but before he could speak, something clicked together in his head.

“You own one of these ‘ranches’?”

“The stunnin’ Mueller Ranch.”

“And what color are you?”

Zane already knew the answer, hoping to distract the other man, but he wasn’t fast enough to dodge Harry’s launch. The older cowboy tackled Zane to the ground, the stench of hay and manure infiltrating Zane’s lungs as his face graced the dirt floor. Zane, not one to be athletic, surprisingly twisted himself out of Harry’s grasp, rolling sideways before getting up and escaping. He started running to his truck, desperately shuffling through his pockets to find the keys. Frantically scurrying away, he didn’t even notice his foot slip right out from beneath him.

“Gotcha!”

Harry cackled heartily as he looked upon his captured prey, who was clawing at the rope helplessly. It seemed like a scene from an old western cartoon: the fool stepping into the lasso and getting caught. Harry had already tied the other end of the rope to a stable post, approaching Zane with a face gleaming with malice. Zane trembled in fear, giving up hope on flight and nervously accepting the fight. As Harry took the final steps, Zane's cowered timidly as he gave up. He didn’t know what was going to happen, but he knew something was going to be over. Then, to Zane’s pure surprise, a hand stretched out to help him up.

“Come on,” Harry welcomed warmly.

Zane’s heart stopped. Was Harry… serious? Was this all some prank just to scare him? Zane didn’t know what was going on, but he decided that once he got out of this mess he’d stay in the sweet shelter of his uncle’s ranch. After the week was over, he was never coming back to this pathetic town, or Wyoming for that sake.

“Are ya gonna take it or what?”

Zane sighed, clasping his hand into Harry’s. As soon as they connected, Harry’s flowery smile instantly twisted back into the thorny smirk.

“It’s just too easy.”

Before Zane could react, Harry flipped the other’s hand over and tapped the black stamp. Instantaneously, time stopped around them. The whole moment felt electric, almost as if everything in existence had shifted, but it was simply only a light touch. Zane gasped as he got up, struggling to speak.

“What… what did you do?”

“Eh, nothin’ yeu’ll remember,” Harry chimed. Zane investigated the back of his hand, noticing a slight pulse as the black stamp began to fade. He was shocked to see the color slowly draining from it into his veins, noticing the same inky shade pumping into his bloodstream.

“Oh no,” Zane cried as a small crackling came from his knuckles. It sounded similar to an orchestra of crickets, the hundreds of minuscule pops signifying the growth of his average hands. Zane’s palms grew thicker at a sluggish pace, bloating with meat as his fingers grew into calloused sausages. Zane groaned in pain while his hands became paws, now feeling like he was wearing bulky, leather mittens instead of skin.

The raven color flew through Zane’s arms, gliding across his chest before venturing vertically. To Zane’s dismay, his unused tendons stretched intensely, expanding as they made room for the arriving muscular tissue. Biceps proudly emerged as their brotherly triceps erupted from underneath Zane’s flesh, causing him to writhe. His forearms gained some meat too before a tan wave swept across the surface of his skin. The classic shade darkened Zane’s pale skin as a field of hair was planted on top. Before long, Zane’s arms looked like an avid gym-goer’s, yet for some reason his mind told him they were from the farm.

After improving the upper appendages, the ink moved downwards, cutting through Zane’s chest. His deltoids pushed outwards as his collarbone expanded, barely extending his traps as his torso began to shift into the shape of a “T”. His pectorals ballooned outwards, forming into meaty packages with two perky nipples, obviously erect underneath his shrinking tee. After the pecs squared out, Zane moaned as a sturdy six pack pounded in, each abdominal packing a punch as it pushed forward. A light covering of fur erupted from his chest while the tan wave made sure to paint itself once more. Zane began panting for air violently, each breath sucking in a little body fat. It didn’t remove all of his fat, but enough to maintain something barely below a body-builder’s standards. His shirt also stitched itself back together, having been torn apart seconds before. The cheap concert tee grew black as it painted itself back onto Zane’s torso, the dusky color hiding its overuse.

Following were Zane’s legs, as the black blood dove deeper. His juicy thighs began to tighten, retaining their above-average size, but now containing more muscle than meat. After his quadriceps had hardened, his knees cracked violently, stretching out Zane’s calves to max him out at 6’2. The bottom of his sweatpants violently tore to reveal two meaty forelegs, both veiny, firm, and covered in a lathering of hair. His pale skin darkened as his legs were covered in a loose denim, locking away his lower appendages.

With Zane’s lower body now covered in an old pair of Wranglers, the ink took hold of his feet, which were currently snug in a pair of Sperry’s boat shoes, the only shoes he had brought with him. In an instant, the leather and cloth tore apart in the middle, blossoming open like a flower to reveal gargantuan Size 15 feet. Zane was appalled to see the hairy, meaty, and awfully rank monsters attached below his ankles, but to his luck, the shredded shoes began to reform. The leather gracefully became cowhide as it expertly resowed itself around Zane’s feet, traveling up to his midcalves to create two authentic cowboy boots. Zane however didn’t feel relieved, in fact all he could feel was the sweat of his massive feet filling up the shoes. His socks hadn’t reformed, so it appeared he was going commando in his boots.

The ink swam up to the top, touching up on any missed spots. After filling in Zane’s pits with a hearty amount of hair, the black blood filled in his neck, adding girth to support the maturing Adam’s apple. Vocal chords stretched as the Zane’s register reached new depths, causing him to violently cough and sputter as he adjusted, allowing the ink to shoot upwards. Zane cried out in pain as the black blood clutched his skull, pulling apart at the bones to give him a thicker head. While the baby fat was removed, his jaw was stretched horizontally, giving him a prominent chin just large enough for a cleft. His lips shrunk while his nose expanded, filling in along with his expanding brows. Zane’s eyes shifted from a bland brown to easy-going blue as his hair shaved away, leaving a no-effort buzzcut where a manicured mane once laid. The vibrant green color rapidly faded, giving way to a light brown that easily shaded in Zane’s new haircut and thickening chinstrap. Across his body, his skin tightened barely as his body packed on a few extra years. It wasn’t a noticeable difference, but Zane no longer had the same glow of young adulthood.

“Ah Lordee,” Zane grumbled, getting up as his language center reorganized itself. “What’d y’all do to me?”

“Well, there’s still one more thing to go,” Harry replied, watching Zane shakily ascend. When the other man stood straight, he now faced eye to eye with the other cowboy.

“What in tarnation is left?”

“Just give it a sec-”

“I ain’t got no time for games, I’m gettin’-”

Suddenly, Zane felt an electrifying pulse throughout his groin, the rest of the ink finally reaching his reproductive center. The black blood infiltrated his testicles, killing off the weak sperm as it overtook his pouch. Zane’s balls bloated as they became heavy with cowboy sperm, dropping dramatically due to the increased weight. The ink traveled into his medium-sized penis, engorging it almost instantly. At first, Zane felt like he was having the most powerful boner of his life, but he began to realize his dick was in fact growing. His member began pulsating with the foreign blood, elongating as it grew to a mighty 10 inches. In the back end, his buttocks blew up into two massive, hardened globes, pushing against the confines of one end of the jeans while his pouch took the other.

Losing all sense of reality, Zane furiously palmed himself through his jeans, the feeling of his newly-materialized boxer shorts rubbing against his sensitive tip driving him crazy. Precumming in seconds due to the pent up stress, Zane was too horny to realize what he was doing, or what he was losing. His prized Yale education evaporated like powdered milk into his ballsack. Next went his East Coast upbringing, his progressive ideas and urban lifestyle disappearing into the void that was his semen. In tow was his homosexuality, which was thrown into the fire inside his testicles. Even a sizeable chunk of his IQ was tossed into the mixing pot. Everything about Zane was sucked down into his sperm, ready to be expelled permanently.

“C’mon boy,” Harry shouted eagerly. “Ya know what ya want to do!”

Zane grunted as he groped himself once more, feeling a burst of static electricity coarse across his body. Grabbing a nearby fence, Zane steadied himself against the stable wall as he felt the rush coming.

“Wow-ie!”

A huge load of sperm coated the front of the Wranglers, causing the area beneath the giant belt buckle to darken dramatically. Not bothering to clean himself up, the young cowboy basked in the afterglow of ejaculation, truly content with himself. He adjusted his pouch one last time, with his other hand still secured to the fence.

“There ya go, that felt better, didn’t it?” Harry slapped a hand around the other man, securing the black cowboy hat on top of the other’s head while doing so.

“Ah yeah, Sir, that one was a goodie,” the other replied, the two slowly making their way back to the main grounds.

“Tell me, Wayne, where the wife and kids at? Shouldn’t they be at the rodeo?”

“They are, Sir,” Wayne responded quickly. “They’re sittin’ near the back of the bleachers with the other ranch families.”

“Ah I see.”

10.5 SECONDS! PETE’S WOWED US AGAIN FOLKS!

Harry paused in front of the main gate, shuffling his hand through his pocket to find his keys and some Copenhagen chew.

“I best be headin’ out,” he stated. “We got a long day at the ranch tomorrow, lots of hay bale shipments to move out.”

“Sounds good, Sir.” Wayne extended his hand out, “I’ll see y’all bright and early tomorrow mornin’.”

“See y’all then, Wayne.”

The two vigorously shook hands, with Harry delighted to see the disappearance of a certain black stamp. They waved each other off as Harry walked back to his truck. After watching his boss leave, Wayne was elated to go back to his family, with one beautiful wife and three handsome sons to entertain. Turning 29 in a matter of days (his birthday shared with Pete Sherman’s, or “Little Petey” as the town called him), Wayne had already accomplished his major goal in life, growing the Woods family. It only seemed like yesterday that he and his wife were high school sweethearts, but now they owned their own little home with three rowdy chaps running around everywhere. It was going to be Wayne’s job to teach them the right morals just like how his father taught him. Over the years, he’d teach them about Christianity, voting Red, being country men, and how to swoon ladies. But, with the oldest one only in first grade, he thought it might be best to wait a bit longer.

Inspecting the bleachers, it didn’t take Wayne long to find his family. He ran up to them and sat down immediately, ready to keep enjoying the show. He quickly explained to his wife what his boss had wanted him for, saying Harry had just wanted an update on the coming fourth child. Wayne then kissed his wife passionately before giving his attention back to the rodeo, applauding as the last participant finished off the night.

10.3 SECONDS! CHRIS ENDED THE NIGHT STRONG!

ANOTHER GREAT YEAR WITH A DARN GREAT CROWD! THANKS FOR COMIN’ OUT FOLKS, WE’LL SEE Y’ALL AGAIN NEXT YEAR!

#country #gay to stright #bottomtotop #age progression tf #nerdtojock #jock #Christian #dumber #political #lib to con

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whipped-for-kpop-fics · 28 days

Text

Seventeen & matching/couple items

💕Who; seventeen (individually) x gender-neutral reader 💕What; soft thoughts about the couple items they'd have with their significant other 💕Wordcount; around 1.5k altogether 💕Warnings; none! I didn't even swear in this, go me

-2024 Masterlist-

A/N; this wasn't supposed to be a whole thing which is why there's no capitalisation, plus it's almost 2 am so I am not about to go through and change the style now

seungcheol; definitely rings. i imagine something simple and in silver with both of your initials on the inside so it's more subtle but he can still look down at it when he needs the strength you give him but he's also always giving you his hoodies/jackets/hats and will buy another of any you refuse to give back so you wind up matching that way too but only intentionally in private. cheol likes to show you off but only to those he trusts and loves because he only wants you to feel the love you deserve

jeonghan; jackets, like matching bomber-style jackets with cute embroidery and maybe your names embroidered on them somewhere. but he often steals yours so you have to wear his just so that he can see his name on you he'll definitely come up to you one day like "babe, let's get matching tattoos" only to show you a packet of temporary tattoos he got for some change in a machine. the designs are all clearly aimed at children but you both wind up with arms dotted in these cute little matching images

joshua; something sweet and handmade because it means more. yes, im talking about his handmade bracelets, or beaded keychains you made for each other one lazy afternoon full of giggles as you make each other the most atrocious keychains in a competition to make the worst just for the fun of it. yet you both still adore the keychain gifted to you because the other made it and wear it proudly on your favourite/daily bags omg mugs, every morning(if you live together) he gets up earlier than you on purpose just so that he can make sure that he can make you both your morning beverages(regardless of if you drink hot drinks or not) in the matching mugs. he smiles sleepy and content at you every time without fail as he watches you sip at your mug with the sweet phrase on that matches his own

junhui; i don't know why but i suddenly imagined matching plushies and that feels right. maybe you happened to both win the same one during an arcade date in a claw machine but now you both sleep with that same one on your bed even if it's for an anime neither of you has watched i don't imagine jun purposely getting matching items because it wouldn't really occur to him as he's never felt the need to boast, he's happy with you and he hopes you're the same though when you're out together wandering around stores and see little decor you both like, he'll rush to buy you one each so your living spaces matches. (he's really just slyly making your homes similar enough that it won't seem like such a difference when he asks you to move in)

soonyoung; i actually think he'd be quite subtle with it tbh. he'd give you a tiger plushie keychain to attach to your bag and he'd have a matching one of your favourite animal on his own and will always fiddle with it mindlessly and think of you. so it actually wears out quite often and he has to geta new one. though he keeps the damaged ones in a secret box under his bed because it'd feel like throwing a piece of you out, he really does link the cute little plushie to you so much he might also like something like bucket hats/beanies that match but in simple designs/colours so although you two know they're purposely matching, others will just see you both in plain black bucket hats and think nothing of it other than an easy to happen coincidence

wonwoo; wonwoo would definitely want something just for you two that isn't necessarily an obvious couple item. maybe a cute little enamel badge on his favourite jacket and you have the same on your daily bag also matching gaming headphones because how can i not mention that? even if you don't really game, he'll buy a set he's had his eyes on for ages aimed at couples, with the matching stands and keeps both on his desk so he can look over at your one even if you're not there. always makes him smile to himself and perk up even if he's about to rage quit a game

jihoon; another simple subtle kind of guy. i'm imagining something like braided leather-look bracelets with silver beads with a heart etching which he only takes off to shower/swim and will glare at any stylist who tries to convince him to remove it another one with matching headphones but in this case it's more that jihoon bought you a pair specifically for his studio so that you can listen to what he's working on with him without any outside noises disturbing your peace like can happen with the speakers. sometimes he subtley removes his own when he plays songs you already know just to hear you singing along softly while you do work on your laptop without realising he's listening to you utterly enamoured

seokmin; necklaces, probably multiple of them but his favourite is one of those where you shine a light through the gem and it projects a chosen photo onto the wall or something. the amount of times the others have found seokmin tucked up in a dark corner somewhere awkwardly trying to use the light on his phone to shine through the necklace without removing it is unreal. cute boy just wants to see the first photo you two ever took together for comfort <3 but i also imagine that one upon a time you two were in a store and he saw novelty hats and he didn't manage to slyly buy them for you both because he kept giggling so you found out before he made it to pay but you let him buy them because he looked to happy. so now you both have a novelty hat hanging proudly in your homes, you don't wear them but it makes you both smile to look at

mingyu; everything. he'll want every possible matching couple item. hoodies, bags, hats, rings, bracelets(im emotionally attached to the one he gives reader in this fic i wrote), necklaces, phone cases. omg phone cases, that's his favourite and you can bet there's multiple of them and he matches them to his outfit so every morning you get a selfie of his outfit, but not the case because he likes to make a game out of seeing if you'll guess the correct case to put on your phone that day to match (you always do)

minghao; i feel like he'd like matching necklaces or bracelets, something delicate and simple but full of meaning for you both. he'd especially love a necklace long enough that he can hold the pendant over his heart as he thinks of you when you're apart and hopes you're thinking of him too but he'd also like to make something, maybe one of you buys an embroidery kit one day for you two to try something new together and you personalise matching premade little zip bags(coin purse/toiletry bag idk what you'd call them) to gift each other. obviously as it's your first attempt at embroidery, they don't turn out that great but minghao proudly carries him around all the time with whatever little items he may need during the day and doesn't want to lose in his bag

seokmin; i have no idea why but my brain said shoes and now honestly that seems so random but i can't let it go now so you have matching shoes, a variety to match a range of outfits. They may not be exactly the same(though some are) but they're similar enough to work. seungkwan always smiles dopily to himself then plays it off and side eyes you when you tease him for it, though he's realyl fighting hard not to smile because he really loves the unique way to match with you also matching scarf/gloves/hat sets for the cold weather because he loves bundling you up so you're all cosy snug. the matching aspect is just a happy bonus and definitely always leads to loads of selfies with your matching pink cheeks and noses barely in view under the thick scarves

vernon; t-shirts, band tees, graphic tees, plain ones. just t-shirts. it started because you always stole his and he didn't realise it was because they're his so he bought you the same ones and took his back, only for you to swap them out next time. but he knows now and buys two of pretty much every t-shirt he buys though makes sure to wear one a handful of times before giving that one to you because he knows you like things he's worn he's also the type i think to like carrying a photo of you two in his wallet/tucked hidden into his phone case, like a photobooth one and obviously you have the other half of the strip in your own

chan; honestly, i think chan would just be happy to do whatever you want with matching. he thinks it's cute as hell to match with his partner but he won't really be the one to actively bring it up, just hint "oh look, babe, that couple have matching jackets, isn't that cute?" until you get the hint and ask him to get something matching with you, though he still has you lead it just anything at all would be his favourite regardless of if it was just a cheap prize keyring from the arcade or expensive brand new phones just to match, he won't care so long as he gets to show off that you two belong to each other

A/N- if you liked this, don't forget to let me know so that I know to try and do more things like this & also reblog so others can enjoy it too!

And if you have ideas/suggestions for seventeen content, feel free to send me an ask to help inspire me to write! (or just scream at me about the ideas if you want and I'll likely scream back with a continuation with your own thoughts tbh)

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cinnbar-bun · 2 months

Note

Would you be willing to write what kind of fan would ace, sabo, shanks, and law for the reader!! I loved your last one!!!

You got it dude! Sorry for taking so long.

Ace, Sabo, Law, and Shanks- Reversed AU HCs

AU: In which YOU are the character of a very famous franchise, and they are regular people who are fans of your series.

Note: GN!Reader, crack, very unserious, SFW

Part 1 with Straw Hats here!

Ace

Broke ass guy who can’t afford anything for you minus like, a bootleg or something small. Has buttons of you.

Highkey think he would be a menace and just wear something so off with you on it (you are free to decide what that looks like).

If people ask why he’s got you on his phone or like a keychain of you, he just beams and responds that you’re the love of his life and refuses to elaborate.

Lies, he WILL be elaborating and making it everyone’s problem.

Marco wants him to shut up about it.

Thatch jokes around often and makes cakes of you for Ace on his birthday or something. Ace refuses to eat it for like two seconds before he’s quickly trying to fight off the others from taking a slice.

Whitebeard has not realized you’re fictional and still asks about meeting you soon… he just wants to meet the one his son keeps raving about.

Ace has to lie and it becomes a whole ‘my partner is in Canada, actually they can’t see you now.’

Whitebeard is so impressed with the fact you travel all over the world <3 wow, you must be so worldly!

Sabo

Rich boy who I don’t think would directly get merchandise of you, but he would totally buy things that have your signature color or remind him of you. Very subtle things. I could see him buying one expensive figure of you, but otherwise it’s just subtle things he will proudly wear in public.

Doesn’t have much time for gaming, so I don’t think he would be playing the mobile gacha games but he will admire the artwork and units of you.

This is actually a partial truth, he had them at one point but was sinking so much money into your units that Koala had to step in and get him to stop this addiction.

He’s been doing his best okay… but your alt unit is so tempting he wants to GET IT HE NEEDS TO GET IT LET HIM ROLL ONE MORE ONE MORE ONE MORE-

Sabo’s phone is now under parental controls and he needs Koala or Dragon’s permission to download or buy any in-app purchases.

But he’s like, so normal about this, okay? He doesn’t have a problem.

Likes to eat your favorite snacks or food on your birthday as a sort of ‘celebration’ of you. Again, pretty subtle things like buying a dessert you like from that one bakery, or ordering a meal that you ate one time on the show.

On second thought I could see him having special editions of the manga, but that remains in his office never to be borrowed by anyone.

Law

“Why the hell would I be into this?”

Acts like he’s above watching cringe animes when he’s got better taste in his consumption of media like House MD or Scrubs or something.

But you know, he’s always getting dragged into silly shit with his friends so everyone is forcing him to watch this popular anime with over 1000+ episodes.

Law feels like performing surgery on himself with no anesthesia at the sheer number of episodes.

It isn’t until like 400 episodes in when you’re introduced and everyone swears they can see the light in his eyes return and he’s entranced.

Suddenly this is his favorite show, although he refuses to entertain that.

He totally has a few figures of you, but when asked, he just yells that they’re Bepo’s and he’s keeping them safe.

The others know he’s not going to buy merch so they just buy him silly trinkets of you and he tries to keep lowkey and hidden so no one knows about his love for you.

He’s not the same man he was 400 episodes ago. He still can’t decide if that’s a good thing or a bad one.

But you’ve invaded and latched yourself into his mind and damn it, he’ll keep you there.

Shanks

Cringe but free.

Buggy got him into this show (Buggy made a slip up once and has tried to deny that he’s liked this series since) and Shanks casually watches a few episodes when he’s free.

Has a couple of figures that a kid Uta always wants to play with (hell no, put that shit back!!!)

Lies to Uta whenever she asks who this figure is of and he dramatically will hold the figure of you and tell her this is, in fact, who her other parent is.

Great job, Shanks, you weirdo. Of course, Uta knows when she’s older that he’s lying out of his ass, but when she was younger she was deadset on meeting you.

So Shanks was forced to include her in his watches so she can see her ‘other parent’. Shanks makes wild stories when Uta asks why you’re in the TV and says you’re so so cool they just had to make a tv show about you.

He’s the kind of guy who forgets Uta is a kid and whenever something super violent or adult happens, he goes ‘oops’ after a few seconds and shoddily covers her eyes, to the point she can pretty much still see everything.

So both of them kinda get in a feedback loop where when he gets something, she wants it, and when she wants to do something, he’ll do it when it comes to you.

You are a staple in that household. Shanks isn’t the best at maintaining your figures but he does remember to dust you off once in a while (mostly after Uta screams at him to keep it in good condition).

He’s tried to get into the card game (Uta insisted), but he finds the rules too hard and difficult, so him and Uta made an easier version (which he often lies about to be able to win).

His luck is crappy too when it comes to the blind packs, so when Uta got the rare card of you he was practically gonna wrestle it out of her.

He’s also weird and rich enough to get any crazy or out there merchandise of you if he felt like it.

#one piece #one piece x reader #x reader #reader insert #one piece hcs #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law #shanks x reader #red haired shanks #shanks #portgas ace x reader #portgas d ace #ace x reader #ace #sabo #sabo x reader

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tarttheart · 7 months

Text

KNITWORTHY - JAMIE TARTT x YOU

summary: you pick up knitting and Jamie could not be more supportive.

word count: 1.4k

warnings: language

The first time you made anything for Jamie, it was a plain pair of socks in a sandy beige colour. It was nothing fancy and you were certain one side was longer than the other. It had been a long time since you last knit so you were just happy to have finished something after impulsively picking up some yarn and needles again after work one day. Work had been manic and you were looking for something to help you unwind each night. Picking up the needles again just seemed right.

“I love them. Babe, these are fucking amazing,” Jamie proclaimed.

You probably would not have believed Jamie solely based on his words but his awestruck expression spoke heaps to how he felt. And, if that had not been enough, watching him proudly pull them on in the morning to wear to Nelson Road was all the proof you needed that the man was knit-worthy.

Knitted socks were not the most common sight around Nelson Road, especially not on one Jamie Tartt. Sports socks had long been his sock of choice until recently. While the beige socks had gotten a couple of curious looks, it was nothing too peculiar given how temperatures had dropped in the past week or so. It seemed a simple and effective solution to keeping warm, so effective that a few others decided to jump on the bandwagon.

“My toes feel like they’re at the beach in Chacala. I can hear the waves calling,” Dani quipped the first time he tried wearing woolly socks to training.

“Me too, boyo, it doesn’t even matter I look like I’m wearing my granddad’s socks,” Colin agreed.

You had gotten hooked on knitting hats. After making yourself three in the span of a month, you were on the hunt for more heads to make beanies for. Luckily, Jamie kindly volunteered and even got involved with the process, choosing a bold, variegated yarn for his beanie. It took no time at all and within a week of casting on, Jamie was rocking his new headwear at Nelson Road.

It was definitely an unusual sight, not seeing an ICON cap atop Jamie’s head but with how chilly it had been, no one thought too much about it.

“I didn’t realise you wore beanies,” Keeley commented one day as she passed him in the hallway.

“Fuck yeh, I do now,” Jamie replied.

“Looks good,” Keeley offered and Jamie practically bounced away much to Keeley’s amusement.

He came home to tell you about how good your beanies looked and it had to be true because Keeley said so and Keeley knows all about fashion.

“Babe, babe, I think you could fucking sell these and making a fucking fortune,” Jamie continued excitedly and you laughed.

Following the success of the first pair of socks, you knew another pair had to be made. It took a little while but when you chanced upon a yarn colourway called “Tart”, you were sold. Sure, it probably was not a colour in Jamie’s usual colour palette but it was a nice wine colour that you were confident he would look good in regardless.

The last pair of socks had been a real plain vanilla pair of socks and having had a little more practice now, you were ready to dive into something more textured for Jamie’s second pair of socks.

You were pretty proud of the end product and you swore Jamie lit up brighter than the New York City skyline when you handed them over. He had been eagerly awaiting their completion, watching you like a hawk each night and trying to figure out when you would have them done. One pair of woolly socks just was not enough to satisfy the man now that he had gotten a taste of toasty toes.

Jamie gave you no time or opportunity to wash the socks before he wore them. He needed these socks in his life right away and you were happy to oblige. Jamie excitedly wore his socks to Nelson Road the next day which caught a few more eyes this time. Afterall, it was even more of an unusual look for Jamie.

“Pretty sure those are hand knitted,” Bumbercatch commented from across the locker room one day as the resident knitting know-it-all.

“Yeh, his mum probably made it for him, bruv,” Issac said dismissively.

It had been a fair guess. Afterall, no one knew you existed. You were a naturally private person and you knew all that came with being Jamie’s girlfriend. What if it didn’t last and you had to then deal with all the fallout? Jamie understood and you agreed you two could go semi-public after Christmas if you guys were still together then. While Jamie had initially been disappointed, he came to really enjoy having something that was truly his. No media, no team chatter.

Jamie decided he had been benefitting too much from your new hobby without properly compensating you for your time and effort. Remembering that Bumbercatch was an avid knitter, Jamie stopped him one day seeking advice on tools he could get you to further your craft.

“What would you get as a present for a knitter?” Jamie asked Bumbercatch after everyone else had emptied from the locker room.

“Yarn is always good. There’s local yarn shop a few blocks away that has a good selection and they have some good tools too,” Bumbercatch offered.

With Christmas round the corner, Bumbercatch did not think much about it. Based on what he had been led to believe, Jamie was likely buying something for his mum.

It had been a real labour of love. When Jamie had presented you with a beyond generous amount on a gift card and a set of fancy interchangeable needles, you knew you had to go big for his Christmas present. It had been a little hard to hide all the balls of yarn you had had to buy. It was even trickier trying not to make his present in front of him because you knew you would crack and tell him what it was the moment he gave you his big adoring eyes. But, all the late nights spent knitting out of Jamie’s sight and afternoons spent hiding in cafes to knit had been worth it.

“Babe, you fucking made this?”

You had been so excited to present him your pièce de résistance you were practically vibrating as he held up the cream cabled sweater vest. You knew it was not his usual look but it felt special making something not basic for Jamie.

“I know it’s not exactly the Jamie Tartt style but I wanted to do something more instead of just a basic knit. I would’ve made you a sweater but I didn’t want the sweater curse to come true so I thought maybe a vest would be a good loophole? You don’t have to wear it out or at a—…”

Jamie did not let you finish blabbering because he grabbed your face to plant an appreciative kiss on your lips.

“I’m fucking wearing this everywhere, love, this thing is fucking magic,” Jamie proclaimed and you were not quite sure what he meant by magic but you appreciated the thought anyway.

The first day back at training after Christmas had most buzzing. It was always nice and energizing to have a good break with loved ones, whether it was spent with their own families or Higgins’. But, when Jamie walked in in his cozy cream cabled sweater vest like he was in a hallmark movie, the whole facility stilled.

“Morning, lads,” Jamie greeted, paying no attention to way the room had quietened after his entry.

Bumbercatch nudged Colin who stood next to him, “I think Jamie has a girlfriend.”

“What’s got you thinking that, boyo?”

“That vest. It’s a recent release online by a big knitwear designer. It’s not a mum pattern. See?”

Colin and Isaac looked at the page on Bumbercatch’s phone and he was right. The vest Jamie was wearing looked almost identical to the one in the photo.

“It could—…”

Sick of all the speculations, Isaac turned and yelled out to Jamie, “BRUV!”

“Yea, man? What’s got your knickers in a twist?”

“Your vest. Who made it?”

“Oh,” Jamie paused for a moment before remembering that Christmas had passed and it was now safe for him to answer, “me girlfriend. She’s a fucking knitting genius.”

#jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt x ofc #jamie tartt x y/n

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miaroseindreamland · 27 days

Text

Reaction to MOM'S DAY

Today is mother's day in my country so I thought about writing reactions about skz and the reader having a family together, and an established relationship.

Maknae Line

This will be the hyung line reaction. ☺️

BANGCHAN

You woke up to the gentle rays of the sun filtering in, accompanied by a delightful scent that filled the room. Glancing at your nightstand, you spotted a jar of your favorite flowers, a sweet gesture from your thoughtful husband. Stretching, you noticed your baby's bed beside yours was empty.

"Channie?" you called out, and your husband appeared at the door, holding your 3-month-old baby in his arms.

"Happy Mother's Day, my love," he greeted you with a kiss on your forehead. You couldn't help but smile at the sight of your baby boy in a onesie that read "Mom's Prince."

"Oh my goodness, he's adorable! Did you dress him?" you asked, amused.

"I did," he replied proudly. "Took me half an hour, but I think I did a decent job."

"It's perfect," you assured him, scooping up your little one. "My little prince."

"I love you," Chan said, gazing at you with affection as you kissed him.

"And I love you more," you teased, making him chuckle.

"Impossible," he countered, but your moment was interrupted by the sound of your baby boy crying.

"Looks like someone's hungry as mama," you remarked, getting ready to feed him. Chan helped you settle back against the bed frame and pillows.

"Hubby's going to whip up a perfect breakfast for you while you feed our little guy," he announced, and you nodded gratefully, focusing on feeding your baby as Chan headed to the kitchen to make you breakfast.

MINHO

You finished getting ready for the day and emerged from the bathroom to find your 6-year-old and 3-year-old, accompanied by cardboard and three cats wearing hats.

"Happy Mother's Day!" they exclaimed in unison, nearly causing you to jump.

"Oh my goodness!" you exclaimed, spotting your husband in the kitchen doorway, wearing an apron and thoroughly enjoying the scene.

"Next!" he commanded in a playful tone, as your 3-year-old daughter, adorned in a princess dress, stepped forward. "You're a queen, Mommy! You're the... the..." she hesitated, glancing back at her father, who silently prompted her.

"The best mommy ever!" she declared with a cute smile that resembled her father's mischievous one.

"And Dad's a king!" your 6-year-old son added enthusiastically. "Lee k-know and y/n are indeed a perfect match." You couldn't help but roll your eyes at your husband, who chuckled in response. "We love you, Mommy," they hugged you.

"Oh, I love you too," you hugged them. "And you too," you said, watching your three cats, not amused by their small cute hats.

"Look, Mommy, it's us!" Your daughter said, showing the collage she made on the cardboard.

"Oh my gosh, so beautiful! You did all of this alone?"

"Yes, Mom!" Your son said proudly.

"I'm impressed! It's beautiful!" You exclaimed.

"Mommy, Daddy brought a present for us to give you," your son said frankly, as Minho chuckled.

"He did?"

"Yes!" The kids went to the room to pick it up as Minho walked to you.

"Happy Mother's Day, kitty," he said, stealing a kiss as you hugged him.

"It couldn't be better," you said, kissing his cheek. "Dori seems to struggle with the hat."

"Trust me, I struggled more to put the hats on," you chuckled, seeing some scratches on his arm.

"I love you," you expressed against his cheek as he pulled you to him with a smirk.

"I love you too, even when you're being a brat."

"Oh, that's true love," you chuckled as he kissed your cheek. You moved apart when the kids appeared in the living room again, excited to show you the present.

"I'm going to finish breakfast," Minho returned to the kitchen as you stayed with your children happily.

CHANGBIN

You were laying in bed, trying to catch a few more moments of sleep, when you heard noises outside your room. You searched for your husband Changbin, but he was nowhere to be found. Sitting up in bed, you glanced at the slowly opening door, and there stood your husband, ushering your daughters into the room with a tray adorned with a flower and breakfast.

"What's all this?" you asked, a smile spreading across your face as one of the twins excitedly exclaimed, "HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY!" She leaped onto the bed, grinning and hugging you tightly.

"Yeah!" your husband, Changbin, chimed in, laughing at the moment.

"Daddy, I can do it!" the other daughter insisted, attempting to push her father away, but he continued to assist her.

"Dad's got it!" he sighed, smiling at you as he helped the little one hand you the tray. "But Dad wanted to help you, sweetheart," he explained, earning a chuckle from you.

"Oh, thank you, beautiful princess!"

"We did all this, didn't we, princesses?" Changbin asked, one of your daughters looking at him in confusion.

"No, a man brought it," you laughed, picking up a grape as Changbin playfully scolded his daughter.

"Yah! Harin!" he chided her.

"Hari, Daddy said not to say that!" the other daughter admonished, and you glanced at him.

"Oh..."

"That's okay, baby. Mommy loves it either way," you reassured them, pulling them into a warm embrace. "I'm so lucky for having Harin and Hajin in my life." You kiss both of them.

"You're the best mommy," Hajin said, making your heart swell with love.

"Oh, babies, I love you so much," you whispered, kissing their cheeks as you hugged them. "Shall we eat?" Changbin joined you, turning on the TV to watch cartoons. The girls were engrossed in the show as they snacked on grapes and strawberries.

"Thank you," you whispered, glancing at your husband, who smiled and tenderly kissed you

"Don't thank me. You deserve so much more, babe," he said, pulling you closer and kissing your temple. "You gave birth to our two beautiful girls. You so good for me. I love you." he whispered against your skin.

"I love you too." you replied, closing your eyes and cherishing the sweet moment.

HYUNJIN

"Appa! Red!" exclaimed a cute baby girl while a man fed her baby food.

"No, sweetie. This is black," he corrected her, pointing to his shirt.

"No, Appa red," she insisted, pointing to his back. The man looked back and jumped.

"No, no! The hotteok!" he yelled, rushing with a kitchen cloth to extinguish the fire.

At the same time, you entered the kitchen, still half awake.

"Hyunjinnie?" you called out sweetly, gasping as you saw him putting out the fire. "What happened?" You picked up your daughter from the baby chair.

"Daddy's clumsy," she said, as you chuckled at seeing him throwing the pan into the sink.

"I was trying to surprise you. I wanted out Hyunae to bring you breakfast in bed," he explained. "I even made your favorite juice."

"Oh, honey," you kissed his cheek. "Thank you."

"I'll order food," he suggested.

"No, why don't we do it together? It's our day off and Mother's Day. Nothing would make me happier than making memories as a family," you suggested, and he smiled cheekily.

"Really?" he asked, and you nodded happily. "We can make cookies!" he suggested, and your daughter jumped with excitement in your arms.

"Hyunjinnie? You called him while he was looking for the ingredients.

"Thank you for taking the day off. I love you," you said, tears starting to appear in your eyes.

"Don't thank me, I will do anything for you and Hyunae." He smiled and picked hyunae to place her in the baby chair.

"Dad is bad." Hyunae said as you both chuckled while hyunjin placed the food in her front.

"Oh, wait!" he exclaimed, remembering something. He dashed inside and returned with roses and a present, and from the looks of it, it was a painting.

"Red roses, your favorites! And a present," he said, handing you the roses as you eagerly opened the big gift. It's indeed a painting. You holding your daughter. You recognized the scene from a vacation you three had taken where you were rocking Hyunae to sleep while memorizing the sea in front of you. It was so peaceful.

Your eyes filled with tears as you looked at him.

"hyunjin..." You hugged him.

"Did you like it?" He asked with a smile while he hugged you back.

"I loved it," you said, your voice filled with emotion. "They are happy tears," you assured him as he placed his hands on your cheeks and stole a kiss. "I love you so much." you said, wiping away your tears.

"I love you too," he said, gently helping to wipe away your tears. "Now, let's cook?" You nodded, feeling grateful for the love and warmth surrounding you. Hyunae called your attention and you picked her to help with cooking.

Too much fluffy? 😅

Anyway, happy mother's day! Specially to my mommy 😍😍

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ohmygraves · 3 months

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I was wondering if you could write a 141 how they react when you give them gifts. I love giving gifts, it makes me happy. Maybe even happier than the person receiving it sometimes. I bet some of them will like the excitement you get more than the gift itself, happily accepting everything you give just to see that smile.

ooh, i have to agree to that, anon. i honestly think that ghost and gaz would be the type to enjoy your reaction more than actually caring what you get them. just seeing you be so giddy when you hand them the gifts are enough of a treat, y'know?

you gave ghost a little knife carving kit, a little thank you for all the times he mentored you and saved your ass. you knew he liked knives and you thought that it was a nice activity to do instead of working out or smacking johnny's head if the scot misbehaved. and maybe he could use the knife or add it to his collection.

still, you are very excited to give it to him no matter what, as you want him to enjoy your gift. he could see you basically jumping in excitement when you see him, holding a small bag and with a giddy look on your face, cheeks flushed red and bright eyes as you hand him the gift bag.

now, ghost doesn't particularly care about gifts himself. since he doesn't have many things in general, his barracks room is really just basic necessities. trinkets like these are not something he enjoys collecting.

oh, but to see you all so excited and the way you try to contain your joy and happiness as you explain what you got him? now that's adorable, it made his heart clench that he thought he needed to get it checked with the medics.

"... thank you, love." he said softly, looking at the small box of knife carving kit in the bag. you cheered, telling him that you'd like to see the result when he finished it, bouncing off somewhere else. he hoped that you didn't notice that his eyes are basically softening looking at you walk away, the corner of his lips curled upwards under his mask seeing you so happy.

gaz's cap was getting really worn out, and you noticed that the bill had a slight tear on it, revealing the material underneath the fabric. so, as a good friend you decided to get him a new cap.

you knew that he liked some good joke, so you got him a trucker cap that says "women fear me, fish fear me" at the front, with a graphic of a bass. soap thought it was funny, and you did too. you're sure that kyle would like it just as much.

well, you didn't know that kyle has like twenty baseball caps in his barracks room, so he didn't need a new one. he collects caps.

when you see him one day, a gift bag in hand, you didn't even notice that the cap that had a tear on it was nowhere to be seen, replaced by a similar cap in color. you were too busy giggling at the idea of him wearing a cap that says "women fear me, fish fear me" to pay attention, and yet when he opened the gift from you, he didn't even complain. your cute giggles and laughs were enough to make him happy.

"really, love? 'women fear me, fish fear me'?" he scoffed, a smile on his face as he took off his hat, wearing it on his head proudly. he didn't care that soap immediately had to take pics of him, he only cared that it made you laugh.

i feel like soap would love anything you give him as well, but it's in a sense that "awh, ye got me noodle maker because ah'm too lazy to cook ramen noodles in the commons room 🥺" like this man would be excited with anything you give him, no matter how stupid the gift is.

you hand soap a wrapped gift box, knowing that he will get excited over this. you'd seen this infomercial a few times and you know that he would enjoy this gadget, given how silly it was and how oddly specific the function is. the infomercial was so silly.

of course, you gave him a slap chop.

opening the gift, his eyes went wide, smiling giddily as he looked at you, eyes glimmering. "bonnie, is this th' one where th' lad threw a slicer out th' window!?" he looked so excited and happy, you were so happy knowing that he liked the gift.

you nodded, saying that it could practically chop anything he wanted. it'll make things so much easier when cooking. soap hugs you, squeezing you as he practically squeals, thanking you for the gift. you said it was okay, and now soap can make all the salad he wanted. you left him to try out his gift, needing to go back to work.

ghost raised his eyebrows looking at you, crossing his arms as he looked at soap. "no bloody way someone like ya would eat a fuckin' salad, johnny..." he scoffed, knowing that the chance of soap eating fruits and vegetables are close to zero, since the scot is a picky eater.

soap sighed, looking down at the gift you got him. "seein' bonnie happy is good enough gift."

he'll make some crushed doritos at the top of his sandwiches or something.

price i feel is the same as soap, but only when it comes to the aesthetic of the item? he's easy to give gifts, likely smth related to fishing or cigar. he won't comment if you give him a cute shaped ashtray for example, or a floral patterned cigar holder.

as a token of appreciation to your captain, you decided to get him something that you thought he might use. price smokes a lot, so it was easy to find something to get him. you, however, are not great at picking the style for it.

ashtray is arguably one of the simplest items around. it's a small dish with sometimes notches to hold the thing you're smoking. as long as it catches the ashes, anything can be considered an ashtray. likewise, there are a lot of shapes and designs of an ashtray that you just spent lots and lots of time picking, scrolling through hundreds and thousands of pages online to find something that's both useful and nice.

you ended up ordering an ashtray in the shape of a ball, made of alloy and had lots of intricate designs of a dragon and bird. it was not only heavy, but also quite big for an ashtray, truthfully.

you started to second guess if this was a good idea, given that it looked like something that your asian grandpa would have on the table when he takes a smoke break out in the porch, sipping coffee while enjoying some hit of nicotine. maybe you should give it to someone else instead, or resell it and get something better, but soap had seen the massive ashtray and were laughing at how big it was, and his big mouth spilled the beans to the captain about how you got him a particularly garish looking ashtray. because of course, everyone told you that what you got him was a bit much for his very simple aesthetic.

having soap basically ruined the surprise, you had to give price the present either way, a bit hesitant as you handed him the box. you were worried that he'd just make fun of it, that he'd laugh at your choice.

"a bit heavy for an ashtray there, doll?" he hummed, looking at the patterns. it seems like it was somewhat like a carving of ancient chinese murals, the typical dragon and phoenix flying through the sky. it looked out of place on price's desk.

"well, i'd have to say the lid is quite a game changer," price added, smiling at you. "covers up the pile of ashes inside."

you were relieved that he seems to enjoy it for its intended function at least.

"have to say though, love, i didn't expect you to pick this style..." his fingers traced over the pattern on top. "it looks beautiful. thank you."

you're not sure if he's just being nice or if he actually enjoys such aesthetics, but you're glad to see it on his desk being used every time you go to his office.

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idksmtms · 2 months

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cowboy like me (David Von Erich x reader) - evermore series

A/N: It was 3am, I was listening to Evermore, and this popped into my head as the perfect title for a David fic. I’m taking some parts of the song for the storyline but not the full thing so Ig try to spot where it pops up!

Summary: He was wearing a cowboy hat and he asked you to dance.

Word count: 4,183

Trigger Warnings: 18+, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, profanity, heavy angst, major character death, movie spoilers!!!, grief (please let me know if I missed any)

Disclaimer: This is based solely on the portrayals of the brothers, not the real people. I do not own any of The Iron Claw characters. I do not claim to own any of The Iron Claw characters. I do not own any pictures used nor do I claim to do so.

Always appreciate comments, likes, and reblogs :)

“Hey, you wanna dance?” There was a tap at your shoulder and you turned around with a mischievous smile.

You knew exactly who it was. He had been glancing at you all night, only the smallest smille of embarrassment any time he was caught. You were waiting to see when he would make his move, when he would finally decide to stop watching and actually speak to you. It had been a while since you actually wanted a guy to speak to you. You tilted your head back so you could meet his eyes, slightly taken aback at how tall he actually was now that he stood right in front of you.

“Oh I don’t know, dancing is a dangerous game, you know,” you shrugged, pursing your lips though that did nothing to hide the shine in your eyes and the tilt to your lips. He just laughed, though it was more like a huff out of his chest and he dipped his head lower so his hair fell forward. It was like locks of sunshine, and you stopped yourself from reaching out and touching it, wrapping it around your fingers.

“I’m ready to take that risk, are you?” He reached his hand out, and your stomach felt all tingly, your hands beginning to shake just slightly. You reached up and hit the edge of his cowboy hat lightly so it dipped forward. His smile widened and he stepped even closer. “I could even request a song if you don’t like this one, I have an in with the band.” He smirked proudly at that and you laughed.

“Oh yeah? How so?”

“Well,” he turned to face the stage and you moved with him. He pointed to the lead singer, a young kid barely out of highschool with a bowl cut and the talent of a true musician. “That, right there, is my brother.” Your smile widened and you turned to him, mouth open and laughed incredulously.

“You’re kidding?! He’s so good! Does that mean you’re a talented musician too?” You asked, though you suspected that really wasn’t the case.

“Unfortunately not,” he sighed in such an exaggerated manner that you pressed your hand to your mouth to hide your giggles. “These hands were not made for the guitar,” he held them up and showed them to you but you were now overcome with your laughter.

He opened his mouth to say more but loud hoots and cheers began to rise from the connected patio and both of you turned to see a young man fall back onto his feet from his position over the keg, beer shining on his cheeks and wetting his shirt. You began to laugh hysterically as he cheered with everyone else, going so far as to rip his own shirt down the middle.

“That is also my brother,” the man beside you sighed and you just continued to laugh, turning back to him and reaching out to gently grasp his hand.

“Let’s dance,” you said, pulling him toward the dance floor. You both wriggled your way to be near the front and you threw your hands up into the air, moving your hips side to side along with the beat. You could feel him press against your back, his lower sternum pressed to your back. His hands slowly rested on your hips, as if trying to give you the space to push him away. You just smiled and threw your head back to rest on his shoulder for a moment. His hold on you tightened and he began to move with you, smooth motions that meant he was surely a practised dancer.

You danced until you couldn’t anymore. You danced until your feet hurt and if you didn’t have something to drink you would die of dehydration. The last song had been a slower one, you had swayed with him to the crooning voice and gentle guitar melody, your head against his chest, arms wrapped around him as his were around you. He lay his cheek against your head, blond hair falling around your face and hiding you from the party. You closed your eyes and focused on his heartbeat, on the warmth of his body that gently touched your skin, like sitting close to a heater that was put on the lowest setting. As the song began to change, you pulled away from him and he smiled at you, gentle and cute, the kind of smile that made you want to pinch his cheeks and kiss him until you couldn’t breathe.

“You want something to drink?” You asked, lips brushing his ear. He shivered in your arms and you moved your mouth without saying anything in the hopes that it would happen again.

“Yeah, I’ll come with you,” he grasped your hand and began leading you toward the table in the patio with all the drinks and solo cups. You glanced toward where his (presumably) other brother had been, and you caught his eye. He was smiling at you, arm wrapped around the girl with him. He dipped his head in a nod and your own smile grew.

Both of you stood in front of the drinks and the crisps and after grabbing the only bottle of unopened club soda, you reached into the bowl and grabbed a handful of crisps as well. He laughed at you as he took a beer from the cooler filled with melted ice. You just shrugged, chugging from the bottle like you had never drank water before.

“So, what exactly is your name?” He asked, and you spluttered, water dribbling down your chin and onto your top. You coughed and laughed, choking and giggling as he smiled and began patting your back.

“My name, heh, guess we never did tell each other,” you huffed after the burning in your nose finally subsided. “Y/n, you?”

“I’m David, David Von Erich.” He said his name with pride, shoulders lifting slightly and you nodded. He reached out and gently wiped the water from your chin and the edge of your bottom lip. Your entire body began to tingle, your lips especially.

“So, David, what are you studying?” You shoved some of the crisps into your mouth and then offered him your hand. He gently pried one from your grip and popped it into his mouth as he shook his head.

“I don’t go to school, I’m a professional wrestler.” You raised an eyebrow before stepping back and eyeing him up and down. You pushed out your lips and furrowed your brows, nodding as if you were appraising a piece of furniture.

“I see it,” you finally said, putting down the soda to pinch at his arms and lightly tap his stomach. He just laughed, tipping his hat with a ‘thank you ma’am’.

“You study here then?” He asked, taking a swig from his bottle.

“Yup,” you nodded, “second year nursing student, so call me if you need someone to patch you up after a match.” He laughed again and you couldn’t help but smile as well.

“I’ll do that then, though expect a call every weekend,” he raised an eyebrow but you just nodded, eating more crisps to hide your smile.

He was the most jovial person you had ever met. Even his voice, all deep and southern, still sounded so happy any time he spoke. A dimple appeared in his cheek and you reached up and poked your finger into it.

“Sorry,” you blushed, cheeks burning, “I just wanted to feel how deep it went.” He only smiled and grabbed your hand, bringing your pointer finger back to his face and pressing it to the dimple. This time you laughed, moving to grip his cheek in your palm and falling forward to press your forehead to his chest.

“I have never met anyone like you, David,” you mumbled against his shirt and you felt him sigh, leaning down as you moved your head back. He wasn’t smiling, just staring into your eyes, and then he was kissing you. His lips were so soft, like marshmallows covered in butter. You pressed harder against him, wanting to meld into his skin. He tasted like beer but you didn’t mind. He kissed you like he would never kiss you again, like your lips held the antidote and he would die if you even tried to move away. Your hands slid into his hair and he groaned, gripping your waist so tight that the waistband of your jeans began to dig in.

He slowly began to pull away, but it seemed like a struggle as every time his lips almost detached from yours, he began to kiss you again. Finally, when your chest was heaving and you couldn’t stand on your own legs, he pulled away, eyes fluttering open. You gazed up at him as if he was the first human being you had ever seen and he felt his entire body flush with pleasure.

You could see that the crowd had begun to dwindle and one of your friends was standing by the door, a clear signal that she wanted to leave but had no one to go with. You sighed, gently banging your forehead against his chest a couple times before smiling up at him sadly. He was about to ask what that smile was for, about to pull you into another kiss to wipe it from your lips, but you quickly reached up and plucked his hat from his head. He blinked owlishly, and you just deposited it onto your own head, pulling it down at the back so the front didn’t dip into your line of sight.

“So you have a reason to try and find me,” you winked, and then spun on your heel and jogged toward your friend. He was left standing there, statue-still, watching after you. Just as you were about to step out of the door, you turned back and winked, tipping the hat in his direction before disappearing.

+++

It was three days later when he finally saw you again. The day after the party, he had gone back to the college and asked around for the nursing building. He had walked around the entire thing, peeking into lecture halls and classrooms to no avail. The next day he stood outside the building from nine am to three pm, watching every student that walked in and out, but you weren’t there then either. On the third day, he did the same thing, slowly losing hope as the minutes ticked by.

This would be the last time he would try. He was already skipping out on helping his dad and brothers put up fencing, and they were all asking about what exactly he was doing going to the university every day. He was desperate to see you again, hat be damned. Then, just as he was standing to walk back to the truck, a group of girls came walking out of a building next to the nursing one. They turned and took the path that went by the bench he was sitting on. Someone in the group laughed, a loud sound that echoed off the buildings and he watched the group as they got closer. A girl near the middle was the one laughing, and in her arms, she was carrying a cowboy hat. His heart leapt and he jogged closer, squinting in the sunlight.

There you were, head thrown back in laughter, a bag over your shoulder, and your arms wrapped around his cowboy hat, pressing it closer to your chest. David’s smile almost broke his face and he almost ran over to you, forcing himself down to a jog so he wouldn’t be out of breath when he met you again.

You noticed him approaching and your cheeks began to hurt, lips pulling up and eyes squinting with glee. Your heart was running though you weren’t, and you began to walk even quicker, leaving your group behind. You stopped just when he did, not barely two feet away. Your friends called your name but you ignored them, holding the cowboy hat by the rim and moving closer to him until your chests brushed together. You reached up with both hands and settled it on his head, shifting it from left to right until it was centred but still stayed leaned back so you could look into his eyes. His beautiful, beautiful, eyes that you had dreamed of for the past three days.

“You found me,” you breathed out, voice slightly higher than usual.

“Took me long enough,” he chuckled, reaching out to cup your cheek. He didn’t wait another breath, just leaned down and kissed you, nose pressing into your cheek. You laughed into the kiss but wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled yourself as close to him as you could. You could hear your friends gasping and whispering in the background, clearly so could David as he began chuckling into the kiss, but neither of you pulled away until you had had your fill.

“So that means you’ll let me take you out on a date, right?” He asked as soon as you had detached yourself from him, and you began to laugh though you were breathless. You nodded vigorously, pulling out a notebook from your bag and ripping out a piece of paper from it. You pressed it to his chest and wrote your number on it, scolding him to stay still as he giggled about the sharp tip of the pen feeling ticklish. You folded it up and pressed it into the chest pocket of the jacket he was wearing then reached up and quickly kissed him again.

“Call me and maybe we can play that dangerous game again,” and then you walked back to your friends, dragging them away from where he was standing as they giggled and squealed questions at you.

David stood there for a few moments just staring at the spot where you had stood and smiling like an idiot. He reached up and touched his lips, pressed his finger to his dimple, then yelled a ‘WOOHOO!” into the air, pumping his fist up before walking back to the truck, with such an aggressive spring in his step that he was almost skipping.

+++

David turned onto his back in the bed and groaned. His stomach had been hurting randomly for the past few days and he couldn’t understand why. But then his eyes landed on you, curled up around a pillow beside him but with your back pressed into where his chest had been moments before, and any other thought went out of the window.

You had this thing about being close to him, even in sleep. You loved hugging a pillow, but you had to have your back pressed to him in some way. Sometimes, if he moved onto his other side during the night, he could hear the little snuffles you let out in your sleep before shuffling back until you could feel him again. It might be his favourite thing about you.

You had been dating for half a year now, the best six months of his life, and last weekend he had gone and bought a ring. Kerry had said it was too soon, but still came along to help him pick it out. Kevin and Michael had come too, each one pointing out different rings they thought you would like. He mostly ignored them because he knew you, he knew exactly which one to get, and they were mostly just there because they had jumped into the truck before he could peel out of the driveway.

It was sitting in his left cowboy boot under the bed right then, just waiting for the perfect time to be pulled out and presented to you. He was thinking about doing it after he came back from the match in Japan, that way if he won, you could marry a champion, and if he lost, this would be the perfect thing to console him. He knew you would say yes, you seemed to love him enough, but doubt was the brain’s best friend, and he knew he would worry about your answer until you finally gave it to him.

David turned back onto his side as a pang of pain shot through his stomach again and he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling himself close to you until he could press his nose to your hair and breathe in your smell. You seemed to purr or hum, snuggling further into the bed and him, and he closed his eyes to go back to sleep.

+++

“How’s Japan?” You asked him excitedly. You were in his room, on his bed, the phone sitting on his side-table and the handset sandwiched between your head and shoulder. You were painting your toenails a beautiful sunshine yellow with red accents to match his costume.

“Bright,” he chuckled, “Tokyo is all lights and people, nothing like home.” He seemed to sigh at the thought and you wanted to reach through the phone and kiss him. “How is home by the way? How’re the brothers?”

You basically lived in their house now, had done for the last month or so. David never wanted you to leave and living there was better than a cramped student dorm anyway. He drove you to the university for all your classes and you came along to watch his every match. You helped his mom cook dinner, ate with the entire family every night, and then you went to sleep in David’s bed. Well, your bed too considering that the sheets now had small flowers on them.

The rest of the room was beginning to look a little more mixed as well. His dad had moved the old vanity from storage into David’s room by the window so you had somewhere nice to get ready. His cologne and your perfume shared the windowsill, and your different craft projects now took up any random free space. A second side-table had even been added and you kept a framed picture of you and David on it.

“Same old, same old,” you sighed down the phone, sticking your tongue out as you tried to paint right to the edge without getting any nail varnish on your skin. “Kerry’s been practising and working out like crazy, He caught his hand in the wiring of the fence yesterday so I got to practice my stitching skills,” you could almost see the smile on his face.

“He’s ok though, right?” He asked, and the urge to hug him was almost paralysing.

“Yeah, he’s all good, keeps trying to train with the punching bag and I have to stop him every damn time,” you huffed and this time when he laughed you stopped painting your nails to press the phone a little harder to your ear. You wanted it to be as close as possible, as if he was sitting right next to you, just laughing by your ear. “He’s gonna rip his stitches David! He refuses to listen to me, and it’s not like your dad is any help, he just wants Kerry to keep training.” You huffed again but there was no malice in it.

“You know what they’re like, he’ll only learn his lesson once he’s ripped them and feels the pain,” David pointed out, and you knew he was right. “How’s Michael?”

“He’s ok, but I do feel a bit bad for him. Now that you’re not here to focus on, your dad has a lot more time to try and push Michael to wrestle, and the poor kid just wants to play guitar or go practice with his band.”

Since David had left earlier in the week, you had made sure to be the one to pick Michael up after school so you could take him to practise with his band. You did whatever you could to distract their dad so Michael could even practise in his room. Last time you asked Fritz to go into extreme detail about his gun collection and even though he could clearly hear Michael playing, your acting was convincing enough to make him keep going until the last gun.

David didn’t say anything for a few moments, and you knew he was struggling with his feelings. He never quite knew how to feel about his dad and brother’s constant conflict. His dad was his mentor, the reason he was where he was, but he could also see how his dad hurt his brothers, how he had flipped on Kevin like it was nothing, and refused to even acknowledge that Michael might not want to wrestle.

There was a muffled groan from his end, like he had bit down on something to stop the sound but it hadn’t completely worked. There was a cough, wet and ragged, and your heart began to pound. You sat up straighter, disregarding the clink of nail polish bottles.

“David? You ok?” You asked hurriedly.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, just have a little cough,” he brushed it off but he sounded more tired than before.

“Are you sure? You don’t sound great,” you clutched the phone with both hands, trying to listen to a sign of anything else.

“Seriously, I’m alright, just a little cough, I promise. It’ll go away soon, I already got some cough syrup for it.”

“Ok, ok, good, you’ll tell me if it gets worse, right?”

“You’ll be the first to know,” he placated, and you could hear the smile.

You were both silent for a few minutes, just listening to each other breathe. You wished you were there with him, to do all the little things you know he would ignore when he was on his own. You wanted to check his temperature, pour out the cough syrup for him and force him to drink it. To run your hands through his hair and wrap him up in a blanket. Instead you stayed quiet until a few more minutes had passed.

“I miss you,” you whispered, and you heard him take a deep breath.

“I miss you too, but soon you’ll be able to say you’re dating a champion,” he joked but you didn’t laugh.

“I already do.”

+++

You were at home when the news came. You were sitting on David’s bed, hugging his pillow and trying to figure out the time difference so you could stop worrying about why he hadn’t called yet. The bell rang from downstairs and you began to wonder who would come visit in the middle of a workday. You waited for any indication that you were needed but you couldn’t hear anything, just murmurs. Something dropped and hit the floor, like a stack of papers or a phone. It was quiet for a few moments, the air almost sterile of sound, then the main door opened and closed and you heard a car engine slowly begin to fade away. Dread settled on your chest, like an anchor slowly being pulled back onto a ship, heaving and heaving slowly onto you. You ran down the stairs, almost slipping on the wood in your socks. You came into the dining room where Fritz was sitting at the table, the phone in front of him but the handset on the floor.

“Is he okay? Is he hurt? What’s the-”

“He’s dead.”

It was quiet for a full minute. Then someone hit a gong right next to your ear. It rang, over and over and over. It wouldn’t stop ringing. One of your hands came up and began to claw at your ear, bending the shell and pressing it down but the ringing wouldn’t stop. There was gauze over your eyes, you stared at the phone, at the handset on the floor, but you only saw bits and pieces, flashes of white.

“A ruptured intestine,” he continued, “they found him in his bed, must’ve passed in the night.”

It echoed in your brain, bouncing around in the spinal fluid. You heard ‘a ruptured intestine’ over and over and over. You sat down on the floor where you were, the skin on your legs rubbing uncomfortably on the rug. You pressed your hands to your head, hoping if you squeezed it enough everything would stop. But it kept on.

‘A ruptured intestine, a ruptured intestine, a ruptured intestine.’

+++

His boots were still under the bed. You had gotten on your knees once, and looked at them, just sitting under the bed, waiting for him to return. You had to look away, had to stand and move, because you knew that if you didn’t, you would have just stayed on the floor and cried for the rest of your life. You couldn’t even touch them.

Every night you lay in the dark and stared at the ceiling. Some nights you cried so hard Doris came in and lay next to you, shushing you like a baby. Other nights you just stared. Stared and stared and stared. Some nights you whispered to yourself, and it was always the same thing. “I’m never gonna love again.”

@tourturedfolkloredepartment

#david von erich x reader #david von erich #david von erich x you #the iron claw #the iron claw fic #the iron claw fanfiction #harris dickinson #harris dickinson character #angst #major character death #spoilers #the iron claw spoilers

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