#and basically I hope if I write this down and someone tells me I did a good job or something it will trigger in my brain

[iluvapplesxh]

Hi can you do a billie x fem!reader pleasee where reader is like overworking themselves and not taking care of themselves, like not sleeping or eating enough, and they basically take it too far and idk where to go after that but yeahh and it ends with billie's comfort if that makes sense 😭😭

⧽⧽Blurry⧼⧼

❀ pair: billie eilish x fem!reader

✰ summary: God, it was so hard. Everything was, but you couldn't just stop. You never did, not when it felt like you were slowly being separated from what was supposed to be reality. All you needed was something to hold you and pull you back to it, but in your case, it was someone.

✯ warnings: mentions of anxiety, stress, mentions of hallucinations, fluff, !ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE!

✒ a/n: I misspelled my own name on my header image ☹️

The words on the paper pages in front of you blurred together and the pen grasped between your fingers shook the slightest bit. Your eyes burned from the constant light of your laptop and the shitty table lamp on the corner of your desk. Your heart was beating faster than it should be - probably from the amount of caffeine you’ve consumed- and you dropped the pen with an exhausted sigh. Your hands came up to cover your face while your fingers pressed into your sore eyes, hoping to soothe the pain but being unsuccessful. 

With a deep breath, one hand dropped onto the papers with a harsh thud while the other ran through your hair before joining the other on the desktop. You felt tears prick your eyes from sheer exhaustion and your teeth dug onto your lower lip to keep them in, taking a few more deep breaths in through your nose before you picked up the pen again and looked down at the papers.

All you wanted to do was get out of this damn room and run to your bedroom -okay, maybe not run- and cuddle into your girlfriend’s arms until you sleep all the stress and worries away. Her voice in your ear whispering comforting words and her kisses littering your skin lulling you into a deep sleep.

But that was not possible, the fucking deadline for this shit was creeping up on you at a fast pace and the closer it got the more stressed you were.

Your hand moved the ballpen against the paper swiftly, not even your brain could comprehend what you were writing down. It was almost like you were on auto pilot. Your head spun a little and your knee bounced up and down, probably from the caffeine rush and stress. Your chest felt tighter with each breath taken and your breathing felt restrained, more and more by the minute.

The white page was beginning to grow spotty, or maybe it was your eyes. You didn’t know, you couldn’t tell. Your movements stilled and your face scrunched up, eyes screwed shut. Your hands clenched and unclenched before one of them reached for the mug of coffee you made earlier, only when you did the only thing you grabbed was air and your eyes flew open in confusion. They darted around the table, searching for the mug of coffee you made.

But did you ever?

You blinked rapidly, turning in your chair to look around the dark room, only illuminated by the light of the laptop and table lamp. There was no coffee. There never was.

Your shoulders dropped and you turned ahead again, leaning back with a huff and furrowed eyebrows.

What?

Your eyelids were low from tiredness and soon the heels of your palms pressed into your eyes, swallowing harshly. Your hands dropped to your lap again and slow breaths left your lips.

It was like reality was slipping away from you. You didn't know what was real or not. And it made you scared and confused.

What’s wrong with me?

Your head shook from side to side and your heart beat in your throat, suddenly your ears were ringing harshly, and your head was pounding mercilessly. Your tongue darted out to lick your dried, chapped up lips.

You didn’t hear the door open, or close. Well, maybe you did, and you didn’t know whether it was real or not. You didn’t jump when arms slowly draped down your shoulders and wrapped around your neck loosely, your eyes just bore into your paper covered desk in front of you. 

“Baby” 

Billie’s head dropped onto your shoulder, her voice raspy and silky as she spoke. You slowly let out a small hum in response, not entirely acknowledging her presence just yet. One of her hands squeezed your shoulder gently.

“It’s late. You’ve been in here for the whole day” She murmured softly and tenderly, signing into your shoulder. It seemed that she was also tired.

Your eyes finally lifted from the papers up to the wall, landing on the clock. 3:12AM. Your brows furrowed before your own sigh left your body and you nodded. 

“Come on, let’s get to bed, hm?” Billie lifts her head from your shoulder, arms unwrapping from around your neck and her hands rested on your shoulders, massaging gently.

You exhaled and shook your head, slightly relaxing under her touch. “I can’t” Your voice came out hoarse and you cleared your throat before continuing. “I need to finish this.” You mumbled, one hand picking up the pen again and the other blindly reaching for the bottle of pills you keep on your desk.

You heard Billie scoff behind you and soon heard the rattle of pills as she picked it up before you, throwing it on the couch in the room. “Fuck that, you’re exhausted” 

You huffed and your front teeth sunk into your bottom lip. “I’m fine, and I’m almost done anyway” You swallowed hard.

“Bullshit,” Billie muttered then grabbed the backrest of your chair and turned you around to face her. Though your eyes were spacey and distant and blinking so slowly, she was suddenly more worried. A soft breath came from her nose before she leaned down eye level with you and took your face in her hands. “Please, sweetheart. For me.” 

You felt her thumbs stroke the bags under your eyes, so tender and affectionate it made you want to sob into her arms. Her blue eyes, filled with worry, met yours and your lip trembled before you pulled it into a pout, nodding.

Billie breathed a sigh of relief, and a small smile formed on her lips. “Good” She whispered and leaned in, pressing her soft lips onto your forehead for a long moment before she pulled away and stood up, holding out her hands. You slowly took them, and she helped you up, feeling her arm wrap around you to steady you as she walked you out of the room.

You walked down the corridor in silence until you reached the door of your shared bedroom, and she opened it with one hand. In a couple moments you were sitting on the bed as Billie walked over with one of her hoodies.

“Can you undress, love?”  She spoke softly, standing in front of you. You nodded subtly and took in a deep breath. Then you ploddingly took off your t-shirt, handing it to Billie. Then you stood briefly, pulling down your pants before slumping down again and taking them off all the way. And although the bedroom air was a comfortable warmth, your skin still filled with goosebumps when it hit it. Billie hands you the hoodie and you took it quickly, pulling it over your head and sighing softly when her scent engulfed your body completely, making your mind clearer and more relaxed.

Billie placed down your used clothes before rounding the bed and climbing onto the bed. “Lie down, darling.” She murmured softly; hand wrapped around your lower arm to pull a little. You nodded and lifted the blanket, sliding under it with a deep breath. 

Billie turned off her bedside lamp before shifting closer to you. You felt her arms wrap around your torso before you were pulled into her body. You slowly turned around in her arms, yours circling her body and your head rested on her chest. One of her hands rubbed your back comfortingly while the other ran through your hair. She leaned down and placed a kiss onto your hairline before resting back against the pillows.

“Sleep now, okay?” Billie whispered and there was a hint of worry still in her voice but mostly just love. “I’m not going anywhere” Her words made your whole body relax against hers while your eyes closed, breathing evening out. 

You knew she would scold you later that day on how you shouldn’t work so much and how you should take proper care of yourself, making it a whole lecture even though it most likely will happen again.

But that didn't matter in this moment because her touch and hold made you feel safe, and the exhaustion lifted from your shoulders. She was your safe place, a pair of arms to hold you when you did stupid things like this. A pair of lips to kiss away the racing thoughts in your head and the warmth of a body making you forget all about work and stress. It was just you and her, forever, ever and you made the perfect pair.

✒ a/n: I hate this, I hate myself, but I wrote it, and I might as well post it! also I kinda imagine Billie the way the pictures show so, blonde Billie?

REQUESTS OPEN

[rowanisawriter]

writer q&a

thanks for the tag @luvwich i love talking about myself lmao

tagging… @mashamorevvna @yourworsttotebag @swordbisexual no pressure

When did you start writing?

10 or 11 handwriting a three part series in notebooks lol i still remember the plot of my first book which was basically xmen AU. fic writing also started around that time

Are there different themes or genres you enjoy reading than what you write?

not really, my writing and my taste in reading usually align. even poetry which i read a lot of but don’t write, somehow still sneaks into my writing because i like making things read pretty

Is there a writer you want to emulate or get compared to often?

idk about fic but for published authors i like sally rooney and her character work, and i also love t. s. eliot’s rhythmic style in poetry, im always trying to emulate them

Can you tell me a bit about your writing space?

i have a toddler to the answer so this for now is my phone on the couch or in my bed in the middle of the night lmao. i’ve learned how to write under weird circumstances, but hopefully once she gives back some of the mental capacity she takes from me daily then i’ll sit at a table or something

What's your most effective way to muster up a muse?

can’t do it easily lol it comes to me in visions, usually after i read something or see a piece of art but if it’s not there it’s not there

Are there any recurring themes in your writing? Do they surprise you?

i write a lot about religion… no that’s not surprising…. i also write a lot about love… that’s not surprising either lol

What is your reason for writing?

i like stories a lot, and i like being praised, so writing stories and having people read them checks two boxes for me lol

Is there any specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating?

all comments are precious, but comments where people find something that i didn’t consciously put into a fic those are my favorite comments. i put a lot of myself into everything i write, sometimes i write things i don’t think about, when someone points it out it feels very personal (good)

How do you want to be thought about by your readers?

hope i don’t come across as insane, i want to be aloof and interesting but then people find me on tumblr and learn the truth

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

hopefully emotion, i focus a lot on that instead of setting or plot most of the time so if i get emotion right then that’s good, as long as i can make someone feel something then they’re compelled to continue reading (conversely when i am reading something and don’t feel any emotional connection to the thing then i put it down)

How do you feel about your own writing?

i like it very much, it’s the exact thing i want to read, and it was a very long road getting here to my true voice and style. i reread my own work constantly i really like it

When you write, are you influenced by what others might enjoy reading, or do you write purely for yourself, or a mix of both?

i can only write for myself, the motivation to write is only there if it’s something i want to write, even challenges and prompts i struggle with because there is some aspect of “this isn’t truly my idea” that i struggle with. i’ve written things that just aren’t popular (weird ship, quiet fandom, etc) but i wrote it anyway because i wanted to. obvs i want to be read otherwise i wouldn’t post online but i have a good audience now so usually no matter what i write it does get read anyway, so may as well just write what i want lol

[merspots]

Another reason not to let your cats free roam

TW: Animal injury (but hopefully the cat will be okay)

Well, I just had to rescue one of my neighbors' cats from dangling from a fence by her back leg :/ I don't know how long she had been stuck there, but hopefully not too long, and she's with her owners now so will be getting checked by a vet.

She was lucky that I seem to have an ear for crying cats, though, because no one else was out looking for her, not even the people in the houses on either side of the fence she was stuck in. I fear what would have happened if I wasn't one to go looking and she was stuck there until who knows when.

Just remember this when you let your cats free roam - it is very easy for them to get injured and for no one to find them until it's too late. So please don't let them if you can.

[anothermonikan]

Just almost completed my first job application ever :thumbsup: and I don't completely feel like dying so that's a W for me

[simplyreveries]

I ADORE YOUR WRITING!!

what about a reader who’s unknowingly flirting with the twst wonderland cast (specifically savanclaw, octanaville and diasomnia) because of culture differences and species differences?

e.g petting their ears, giving them gifts, smiling with teeth (bc for moray eels that’s how they mate 👀)

OR fem reader who has her period and some of the twst students can smell it I LITERALLY HAD A NIGHTMARE ABOUT THIS 😭😭😭😭

OMLL I APPRECIATE ITTT!!! sorry for the wait!!! i chose some from each dorm bc of my character limit btw!!

azul ashengrotto

despite how much azul continues to do his best to learn about life on land… relationships are certainly difficult for him to understand sometimes considering how long he has spent his life in the sea and though there are many similarities between merpeople… there are still some differences. once azul is rather close to you he does become unintentionally— clingy with you. (when you two officially get together that's another story) but he has a habit of wanting to lean close to you or have a hand on you in some way, like on the small of your back when showing you something in the mostro lounge.

so needless to say, he is in love with any sort of touch from you he takes that as some sort of hope and sign that you reciprocate how he feels haha. jade and floyd tease him ALL the time about it especially when he was struggling to keep his cool-headed composure after you once gave him a hug after he did something to help you once.

like I've said azul really doesn't think about it or even try to be this way around you he just does aljdfajdkhf. he’ll feel like a smitten fool as he sits in the vip lounge as he's doing papers and just think about how you playfully linked your arm around his to bring him somewhere. small things like that are actually quite big to him when it comes down to the differences.

jade leech

he's aware you probably don't know that you're unknowingly flirting with him, but he finds it amusing and plays along with you, nevertheless. he thinks it's cute that you don't know and all the more enticing, you’ll find him chuckling, trying to hide his grin with his gloved hand “oh my, I didn't know you liked me that much fufu” he’d say. you can't help but feel confused as to what he finds so interesting… like you literally just yawned.

it'll take him a while to actually tell you what it means since he finds the obliviousness to be quite cute. you only put two and two together when he tells floyd about what you did right in front of him and the two laugh about it. now you've got floyd teasing u about it..

like azul he is a little more affectionate just in a different more. in a less obvious fashion, though there definitely have been a few occasions where he likes to bring your hand to his lips and see your reaction, he finds it so amusing. he always has his teethy grin plastered on his face.

leona kingscholar

he hates the way he can always tell when you're wearing cologne or perfume and he hates that he likes it as well, he may or may not be a bit addicted to your scent. he literally can tell if you're near just because he knows the damn fragrance you use.

if you two are particuarly close... like him falling asleep around you and such. if you happen to pet his head and his ears, he immediately shoots you this look then mumbles something before being too tired to do anything about it or give you some retort. he just lets it happen... he does enjoy it anyway. slowly he kinda doesnt realize how clingy he can get with you because of it. he becomes a little needy and wanting more attention from you. he cant help it.... i mean you basically just showed him that you're fine with it anyways.

leona seems to be someone who can get pretty possessive, unintentionally too over you. kind of territorial, like if you're someone he has eyes for then he doesn't expect others to really get in the way of that.

malleus draonica

malleus is not only a fae but a pretty sheltered one too, I’d think he’d take almost anything from you as a sign of you being completely infatuated with him as he is with you. you could offer split your ice cream or invite him out somewhere, show any sort of interest in him as he talks about gargoyles as he’s doing single club activities. the one time you asked curiously and wanted to touch his horns, he’d be searching for the loveliest jewel to bestow you for your wedding day.

speaking of jewels… he gifts to you a lot especially after you give him anything first (it could be a cool rock you found) and he’d be so smitten and glad to reciprocate that by giving you earrings, rings, necklaces etc. and when you accept them even though you're not exactly fully understanding why he takes it even more as a sign of you accepting his advances.

after taking any of your little acts of being somewhat kind to him and he’s already so deeply into you, lilia would certainly be someone who hears just all about it. i think he would only feel happy for malleus, as it appears he must’ve found the right one. he is just supportive of malleus and is simply overjoyed to know he has some little human that makes him so happy.

lilia vanrouge

he has lived long enough and in different places to understands human courting's and more so than someone like malleus. he knows how different it is, trust me he is fully aware, but he thinks it's amusing. lilia pretends to take it the wrong way and watch you get all confused, when he's just being playful.

just cant help that he finds it so adorable when you unknowingly show him affections as a fae would in his culture. even just being slightly affectionate with him is enough to have him giggling and warning you to be careful to what fae you do that to. they do tend to take very kindly towards any affections and gifts!

lilia will straight up tell you though too, you could gift him and give him something neat you found or made, and he'd look up at you with a stupid grin like "kfufu... i accept your love, dear" NO???. he still holds onto anything from you with the utmost joy.

[monstersflashlight]

Commission for @itsafullmoon

A/N: Thank you so much for commissioning! This turned a lot more funny than expected, the werewolf is basically a himbo and the events are very fast-paced. Hope you enjoy!

Request: I’d like to request a NSFW-longer story Werewolf x fem!human, werewolf saves her from what could’ve been a fatal fall/accident in the woods or….was that his secret plan all along😏 (stalking, future mate?) I love your writing and leave the rest up to your creative mind🫶

The spiral to insanity happens in a hole

Werewolf x fem!reader || induced heat, knotting, semi-public sex (cave), implied stalking

“Help! Help me!” You cried out.

A head appeared at the top of the hole you fell into. “Hello there, stranger. Seems like you are in a hole,” his words made you want to hit him with a rock. “Do you need some help?” Was this dude for real?

Not wanting to be mean to the stranger that could have your way out of the hole you sighed and told him: “Yes, please.”

He reached inside the hole with his long arm, and you reached up trying to grab it. Before you know what happened there was a big crash and the stranger was next to you in the hole/cave. “How did you fall, too?!” You accused. Now both of you were stuck in the hole. Fuck.

“Oops,” he giggled. He actually giggled. Who was this dude? You glared at him and he rose his hands in a calming motion. “No worries, I work as a keeper in the reserve and called my college when I heard you calling. They’ll come to get us soon enough.” That did calm you, and you sat down on a big rock and stared at him.

He was pretty in a rough way, like a lumberjack. He was big as a wardrobe and looked like he could break a tree if he wanted to. You were kinda okay with that, he looked good. In other circumstances, you would have hit on him. Probably. And well, being completely truthful, you would probably hit on him here, too. Your body was tingling just by looking at him, a strange sensation boiling inside of you.

He didn’t say anything else, and you didn’t either. You sat in silence as he paced up and down the little cave and you thought about all the dirty things you would let him do to you. At some point he stopped and looked at you. “We could do something to pass the time.” That made sense, but at that moment you wanted to do anything but to talk. He was handsome, and maybe you wanted to fuck him a little (understatement of the century), but definitely not in a hole in the forest.

“What do you suggest?”

And then he went and deadpanned: “We could make out.” You looked at him trying to decipher if he was being serious.

You were so surprised it took you a couple of seconds to respond. “Are you fucking insane? I don’t know you!” You didn’t want to say no, but it was fucking insane that he was asking you that, you didn’t know each other’s name.

This dude was completely crazy, 100%. You didn’t know how you found yourself in that situation, but there you were. In a hole, in the forest, with a crazy dude who wanted to make out. And what was more surprising: you were okay with that. The idea of making out with him wasn’t as bad as someone could think. You kinda wanted to say yes, but you also knew that was a bad idea.

“Well, we could know each other.” He proceeded to tell you everything that came to mind about himself as you looked at him astonished. Who the fuck was this guy and why did you find him so adorable? He kept talking and talking and his blush became more and more prominent as you stared. “I’m sorry, I’m gonna shut up now.” He went from weird to endearing very fast, your heart beating erratically inside your chest. You were charmed by that big fool.

“You are kind of adorable,” you blurted out. You covered your mouth instantly, you didn’t want that to escape.

“You think so?” He asked back, flushing harder. Cute.

“Yeah. I feel this…. This connection to you. I don’t understand why, I should be scared or anxious about it, but looking at you brings me some kind of calmness. It’s like I already knew you.” And it was true, you felt some kind of deep connection to him, like something inside of you could recognize something inside of him.

“You do?” He sounded so hopeful and excited that you wanted to hug him and kiss the tip of his nose. What was wrong with you? “You a… Well, you see… Youaremymate.”

“I’m what?”

“You are my mate,” he told you, slower this time. At your confused look, he continued, “let me explain. So…. I’m a werewolf.” At your not-impressed look he changed before you. His face contorted and his bones cracked and before you knew it he was a fucking werewolf.

For both of your surprises, you didn’t scream, you didn’t panic, you just stared at him until your brain came back into action. “What the fuck!? How are you even real?!” You must have hit your head when you fell down. That’s it. That’s why the dude in front of you was a werewolf and why he was saying you were his mate. Yep, that’s the reason. He pinched your arm and you slapped his hand. “Why did you do that?”

“You aren’t dreaming. Or hit your head. I’m a werewolf and I’m real.” You stared at him for what felt like an eternity but was probably just a couple seconds. For some reason, you believed him and that made you question your sanity even more.

“You know what? I believe you. My life couldn’t get any messier, but apparently it can.” You laughed at that, hysterically. He looked at you with concern all over his face. “I’m okay, I’m okay…” You repeated as you wiped tears off the corner of your eyes. “I’m just having a bit of a breakdown.” He hugged you then, pulling you against his furry chest and embracing you tightly.

Weirdly enough, it made you calm down. Your breathing evening out to match his and your body relaxing in his arms. “So… do you want to make out?” He asked again, making you chuckle and looking up at him incredulously.

“Are you serious right now?” His kicked puppy face was answer enough. “Of course you are. I- No I don’t- You know what? I do. Let’s make out. If my life is going to get this crazy, I can surrender to it and also be insane.” You felt completely out of control, nothing made sense anymore and why not... Kissing a werewolf didn’t sound like the worst idea in that moment. He was handsome as fuck and he looked even better with all the furriness he had going on. You wanted to kiss him when he was human so… why not? Insanity was as good option as any other.

“You are not insa-” He didn’t finish that thought before you launched for his mouth and started kissing his wolfy face. The fangs against your lips made some deep part of you tingle. The danger and the anticipation making everything so intense you could feel your pussy getting wet. He sniffed the air and groaned against your mouth. “I can smell your desire,” he growled against your ear, breaking the kiss. You groaned in response, feeling hot all over.

You felt like your body was burning from the inside out, like your blood was made of lava and you were about to burn down completely. Your pussy felt so wet and so ready you could feel your heartbeat in your clit. “What is happening to me?” You asked, fanning yourself.

He looked down at you, guilty as fuck. “You started the mating process. You kissed me and now your body is going to react strongly to everything we do. You are going to get really horny, really soon.” You shook was rapidly replaced by a new wave of heat. Fuck. You groaned and kissed him again.

He tore a hole in your pants and ripped your panties, exposing your pussy to his hungry eyes. He stared at your center and slowly circled your clit as he pushed two fingers inside of you. You cried out and came around his fingers.

“More. More. Give me your cock.” You were frantically pulling at his pants, trying to free what felt like a dick bigger than anything you’d experienced before. He got himself free and you gasped when you saw. It was different from humans, larger in every way, but also had a different shape. It was fat in the middle instead of the tip, and there was a big bulge at the base that looked incredibly to grind against. “Now. Now. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me…” you chanted. Your brain couldn’t understand anything else but the heat burning inside of you and his dick being the solution.

“Are you su-?” He tried to ask, but you weren’t having any of that. You needed to be fucked and you needed it NOW.

“If you don’t fuck me right now I swear to God I’-” He grabbed your hips and lowered you to his dick in a second, his dick fitting inside of you in one long thrust that had you throwing your head back and crying out in ecstasy. It was perfect. His dick was perfect.

He didn’t give you time to adjust to his girth, he started a punishing pace, his hands on your hips as he moved you up and down. You were grateful for that, your legs turned into jelly and you doubted you could do anything to help him right now. His movements were perfect but not enough. You rubbed your clit frantically as he told you how pretty you were, how good you looked and how lucky he was having a mate as beautiful as you.

You came apart in his lap. Once, twice, three times… He wasn’t stopping. He had super stamina or something like that because his dick was hitting all your perfect spots and you were seeing stars as he just kept going. Your pussy felt used, but you wanted more, so much more…

You needed, you needed something… Something. And then you felt it. “What is that?” You asked between groans, your body limp because of the pleasure.

He grunted and moved your hips up and down faster, making you see stars. “My knot. Do you- Do you want that?” You nodded, not knowing what you were getting yourself into, but too lost in the pleasure he was giving you.

It took some work, but he moved your hips against it until it was coated in your juices and it could slip inside. You blacked out for a couple seconds when you felt the extreme fullness inside of you. Your pussy was stretched to the max and it felt better than anything you’ve ever experienced. You felt like you reached nirvana. And then you could feel him coming inside of you, so much, so hot and fast… You were being stuffed, and it felt... marvelous.

You came a couple more time grinding his knot against your G-spot and when you couldn’t take it anymore, you deflated against his front. His knot was still firm inside of you, spurting cum every once in a while. You didn’t care anymore, you could take a nap right there.

“Can I confess something to you?” He broke the silence, his hands caressing your back in a hypnotizing motion.

“Well, it’s not like we can move, can we?” You asked, his knot firmly pressed inside of you. You rolled your hips experimentally and groaned at the sensation. So good.

“I hid the hole so you’d fall into it,” he confessed, hiding his wolfy face in your neck, licking that spot behind your ear that made you shiver. The combination of his knot pressing onto your G-spot and the licking was making your brain foggy with pleasure.

But then his words registered, “Dude, what?!”

[sceletaflores]

where there’s sparks, there’s fire!

pairing: patrick zweig x fem!reader

summary: you can’t tell if patrick hates you as much as you hate him. every time you see him he’s constantly talking to you, touching you, trailing behind you. but he’s only doing all that to piss you off. you think back to tashi telling you it’s obvious that he wants to fuck you. you don’t see it. patrick wants to fuck everyone, you’re not special.

—or: patrick zweig is a slut. you can't stand him.

word count: 4.6k

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, p in v, rough sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it y’all!), public sex (doing it in a coat closet lmao), more hate sex, swearing, fighting as foreplay, light choking, light hair pulling, degradation, even more hints of mean!reader cause i really do live for that shit, tashi and reader are cute besties always, porn with a little plot, no use of y/n.

author’s note: i originally wanted to post a tashi fic next but i realized i don't have any like actual full on plot filled patrick works lmao i felt bad neglecting him and my patrick girlies so yeah. once again had literally so much fun writing this, like i hardcore love this niche!!! i ride so hard for it!!! the tashi fic i'm working on also falls into this category lols and yes this is fourth of july themed and it's late shut up i cannot write fast for the life of me...anyway! to the anons who requested something like this, hope you love it! okay bye mwah xoxo.

Patrick Zweig is a huge slut.

Everyone knows that. He doesn't even go to Stanford but he's still somehow managed to sleep with a third of the girls on campus, maybe even more than a few guys too if the rumors going around are true.

You hate him. Hate isn't even a strong enough word. You loathe him. You despise him. You detest him. Pick any other fancy synonym, the point still stands. You just really fucking hate him.

It blows your mind that someone as sweet and angelic as Art would be best friends with someone like him. Someone who's so obnoxious, so arrogant, so crass. Art’s the guy that goes out of his way to protect you from the gross frat bros at parties, only to bring his very own as a plus one.

Sigma Nu throws a rager every year on the fourth, extending invites to those who are still in Stanford for the summer. The women’s tennis team is always invited, and Tashi always ends up convincing you to go. Well, she’s less convincing than she is more forcing you, but it’s basically the same thing to her anyway. She did your makeup and wrestled you into a Hollister dress, vowing to get you laid as she straightened your hair.

Tashi’s almost more invested in your sex life than you are, constantly hand-picking guys on campus for your consideration. She actually offered up Patrick once when you told her you wouldn’t fuck any of the guys on campus at all. The two of you were practicing, she suggested it as casual as ever while returning your serve. You were so shocked you stopped in your tracks, letting the ball fly right past you. She assured you she wouldn’t mind if you did, that what the two of them had was quote “Nothing serious, he’s just a really good fuck.” and that you should “Totally do it. He definitely wants to fuck you, I can tell.” 

You just brushed her off, ignored the way she smirked knowingly at you over the net. Your cheeks burned as you served again, you wrote it off as annoyance. As if you would ever let Patrick Zweig fuck you.

You lost Tashi when she took off to the bathroom, texting you that she’d be a while thanks to a long line outside the door. You were leaning against a wall nursing a half-empty cup of jungle juice when he came up to you. You can’t remember his name, you think it starts with a B. Something like Brandon? Or maybe Brian? One or the other.

He’s Sigma Nu’s secretary, you sit three seats down from him in your economics lecture. Tashi says he has a crush on you, and he’s nice for a frat guy but he’s definitely not your type. He’s been droning on about his upcoming trip to his family's summer house in Cabo for almost ten minutes. You try your best to seem interested, humming and nodding every couple seconds. You’re in the middle of tuning him out when a loud, familiar voice calls out your name. 

“There you are!” Patrick Zweig shouts from a few feet away, ugly American flag patterned flip flops smacking against the ground as he makes his way over to you. He’s wearing a bright red button down and white cargo shorts you scrunch your nose up at. He’s tanner than the last time you saw him, legs long and even more toned. “I’ve been looking everywhere for that pretty face.” He coos sweetly, his hand that isn't holding a bottle of Bud Light comes up to pinch your cheek.

You scoff, smacking his hand off your face. “You found me, so you can go bother someone else now,” you say, rubbing your cheek lightly. “Bye.” You press, waving your hand dismissively when he makes no move to walk away.

Patrick grins, unfazed by your reaction, he steps in even closer. “Yeah, I missed you too,” he says breezily, his breath smells like cheap beer and camel blues. He’s just as tall as you remember. He has tacky blue shutter shades resting on the top of his head. His eyes rake over your body shamelessly, lingering on the low dip of your neckline. “Cute dress.” 

You ignore him, rolling your eyes before turning your attention back towards Brandon/Brian. He’s silent now, eyes flicking between you and Patrick skeptically. “Are you like, together, or something?” 

You laugh loudly, quickly shaking your head ‘No’. Patrick beats you to speaking though, “God no, man.” he says through a laugh, dark curls bouncing as he shakes his head. “I came over here to warn you.” He continues, voice and expression going overly serious like he’s not talking out of his ass.

Brandon/Brian’s brows furrow, clearly confused. “Warn me?” he asks, head tilting to the left slightly. His puka shell necklace makes a small clicking sound as he moves. 

Patrick nods his head gravely, clapping his free hand down on Brandon/Brian's shoulder a little too roughly to be considered friendly, shaking him back and forth like a rag doll. “Yeah, best of luck trying to get inside that snatch, man.” he says earnestly, jerking his head in your direction. “Cause’ she’s really fucking picky–”

You whip your head in his direction to cut him off, grimacing in disgust. “You would say snatch, you sick fuck.” you snap, red solo cup crunching quietly in your hand. Patrick just laughs, dropping his hand from Brandon/Brian’s shoulder. Anger stews inside you the longer he looks at you with that stupid shit-eating smirk on his face. 

You can’t tell if Patrick hates you as much as you hate him. Every time you see him he’s constantly talking to you, touching you, trailing behind you. But he’s only doing all that to piss you off. You think back to Tashi telling you it’s obvious that he wants to fuck you. You don’t see it.

Patrick wants to fuck everyone, you’re not special. Sure, he may feel the constant need to be a horn-dog when he’s around you. That doesn’t mean anything. Patrick’s just gross, constantly making crude comments or lame innuendos. What Tashi fails to see is him making sex jokes around you is just another way he can piss you off. It’s not an open invitation into those god-awful shorts. 

Patrick takes a small step back, big hands raising in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. Put the claws away,” You try to ignore the way him saying your name in that goddamn infuriating condescending tone makes your cheeks start heating up. Patrick leans his shoulder on the wall next to you, looking down at you with a small grin on his face. “I actually wanted to congratulate you on cracking the top twenty.” He takes a long sip of his beer, head lolling to the side lazily as he swallows. “Lucky number 14.”

You’re not too proud to admit that Patrick is kind of hot, especially in this lighting. He’s objectively a hot guy, and he knows it. All tall and firm looking even in his horrendous outfit. But he’s kind of cute too, in an ass-holey way. His hair's a mess of soft-looking black curls and his ears stick out from his head sort of endearingly. He’s close enough that you can see he’s got a little brown in his eyes, and long lashes. There’s a handful of freckles sprinkled over the bridge of his nose. 

His big, strong nose that looks like it could work wonders between your legs. Or at least that’s what you’ve heard from Jen in your chem lab. Maybe this jungle juice is stronger than you thought.

Patrick's smirk widens, wolfish and dirty like he can see what you’re thinking. “That’s pretty impressive.” he continues, his tone a mix of genuine admiration and teasing. "Especially for someone who's always so...busy." He lets the last word hang in the air, a clear innuendo that makes your blood boil all over again.

"Busy training," you snap back, not willing to let him get under your skin any more than he already has. "Some of us have actual work ethic, Patrick. We put in the hours on the court instead of fucking anything that breathes, you know? So we don’t look like idiots that get their ass handed to them on tour by nobody scrubs."

You can feel the heat start to simmer in your stomach, anger and frustration bubbling beneath the surface as Patrick's presence continues to grate on your nerves. The tension between you is thick, amplified by the chaotic energy of the party swirling around you. You see Brandon/Brian take a long, awkward sip of his beer as he steps away, turning on his heel to quickly disappear into the sea of bodies crowding the living room. You roll your eyes internally, pussy.

Patrick grins, not deterred in the slightest. “You’ve been keeping up with my matches?” His voice is low and pleased sounding, shiny green eyes slowly getting swallowed by the black of his pupils. 

You pause, owlishly blinking up at him in silence. You’ve been caught. Shit.

You can feel the immediate warmth of embarrassment burning hot on your cheeks as you cast your gaze to the floor. “Only when I need to cheer myself up, a losing streak that high is actually laughable.” You mutter to the floor, lightly swirling your drink in your cup. 

Patrick laughs loudly, throwing his head back in amusement. “Still thinking about me though.” he says matter-of-factly, a lazy grin taking over his face.

His audacity sends another wave of anger and embarrassment through you, your grip tightens around your cup. "Only because you make such a spectacle of yourself," you retort sharply. "It's hard not to notice when you're crashing and burning so publicly."

Patrick's grin doesn't falter. If anything, it widens. "I'll take what I can get from you," he says, his tone a blend of amusement and something else that you can't place. "But seriously, congratulations. You deserve it."

His unexpected sincerity throws you off, and for a moment, you don’t know how to respond. It's rare to see Patrick in a light that isn’t coated in sarcasm or sleaze. You catch a glimpse of something genuine in his expression, something that almost resembles respect, and it confuses you.

It confuses you, and it makes something warm start to burn in your stomach. You can’t afford to feel any warm, fuzzy feelings around a guy like Patrick, not if you don’t want to get majorly fucked over the second he gets bored of you. 

You don’t know how to react so you do what makes sense, you lash out.

“God, will you just fuck off and leave me alone Patrick,” you say, tone over-dramatic and long-suffering as you tip your head up to the ceiling in annoyance. “I’m trying to have fun.” A lie. The party kind of sucked compared to last years. You were planning on talking Tashi into leaving when she came back, but he didn’t need to know that.

Patrick’s cool exterior finally cracks, letting out a quiet huff of disbelief as a frown starts tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Jesus Christ, what the hell is your fucking problem? I’m being sincere.” The playful light in his eyes is gone, replaced by something darker.

You let out a loud laugh, shaking your head in amusement. “Maybe I’d believe that if you weren’t such an ass. I know you too well, Patrick.” You say, tone mean and condescending. You know he’s right, on some level, but that doesn’t stop you. 

Patrick is silent for a beat, eyes boring into yours with an intensity that makes you want to start squirming. He lets out a quiet, bitter laugh, bringing his beer up to his lips to take a long sip. You watch the way his throat moves as he swallows, the way his lips look wrapped around the neck of the bottle. You feel a familiar heat start to pool between your legs, thighs clenching involuntarily as your mind envisions something else his slick, pink lips would look good wrapped around. 

He drops the bottle to his side, finally breaking the silence. “You know, now I do believe you.” he says casually, swiping his tongue over his lips lazily. “You must really not be getting any dick acting like this much of an uptight bitch.”

You reel back in shock, his words hitting you like a punch in the gut. The wave of fury that sweeps through you is almost tangible, your vision narrowing to a tunnel that begins and ends with Patrick’s infuriatingly smug face. “What did you just say?” you ask completely taken aback, voice low and rough. Your hand twitches at your side with the need to throw your drink in his face, anger and embarrassment lapping white hot flames in your stomach. 

Patrick just scoffs, heated gaze not breaking from your own. “You heard me.” He says, jaw set stubbornly. “You need like, emergency dick, or something to chill the fuck out for once.” 

You feel your heart rate spike, your free hand clenching into a tight wrist by your side. “You’re a fucking pig.” your voice shakes with anger, you feel sweaty and hot all over. The heat swirling between your legs is persistent.

Patrick laughs, a loud and infuriating sound. “Come on, we both know you’re fucking begging for someone to give you what you need.” He says like it’s obvious, you clench your fist a little tighter. He takes a step closer, voice dropping down to a whisper meant just for you. “I can help you with that. I can fuck all that bratty shit right out of yo–”

You’re reacting before you can stop yourself, hand flying up to slap him hard across the face. The loud crack pierces through the room, loud enough that a few eyes turn in your direction. Patrick's head snaps to the side, the shades resting on the top of his head fly off. 

Your heart stops, hands shaking with the realization of what you just did. You expect Patrick to flip out, start shouting and threatening to sue you or whatever else it is that rich people do. Time seems to slow down as he turns his head, and when he looks back at you, there's no trace of anger in his eyes. Instead, they're dark with something else entirely— something that makes your stomach flip.

He licks his lips, a slow, deliberate motion, and then he laughs, a low, throaty sound that sends shivers down your spine. A clear hand print grows steadily, red and angry on his cheek. "Fuck." he breathes, his hazy eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that makes your breath catch in your throat. 

You’re stuck staring at each other for what feels like hours, the music and chatter from the party reduced down to a low hum as you’re caught under Patrick’s heavy gaze.

He drops his beer bottle on the floor carelessly, hand shooting out to grab your wrist tightly and drag you away from the living room. Your cup falls from your grip, splashing down onto the hardwood in a red sticky mess. You fall into step behind him, letting him guide you into the hallway outside the living room before he lurches to a stop in front of a closed door, ripping it open and shoving you inside. Patrick follows quickly, closing the door behind him and bathing the coat closet in darkness. 

It’s a tiny closet, you’re pressed up against too many coats fighting for space on the tiny rack, kicking loose shoes around as you try to find your footing. “Patrick, I–” You start, but you're cut off by a strong hand gripping your forearm and whipping you around. Your back hits the door with a dull thud, you don’t have any time to react before his lips are on yours.

The kiss is the opposite of gentle, Patrick’s lips are almost violent as they move with yours. Your hands tangle in his soft hair, kissing back just as roughly. He hisses into your mouth as you twist the strands in your grip meanly, pressing you into the door harder. His tongue forces its way past your parted lips, claiming your mouth fiercely. He tastes like beer, his fingertips are rough and calloused on your skin, pulling you closer as if he wants to meld into you.

“If you don’t want this, say the word and I’ll stop right now.” He says against your lips, breathless and rumbly. His hands squeeze your hips reassuringly, his own version of sincerity softening the moment.

Yeah fucking right.

“Zweig,” you say slowly, yanking his hair roughly. “If you don’t shut up and fuck me in the next ten seconds, I’ll kill you.”

Patrick grins wildly, surging forward to connect your lips again. Your hands find the buttons of his shirt as the two of you kiss, working them open one by one until you get too frustrated and rip the two half-open sides apart. Buttons clatter onto the floor of the closet, Patrick groans into your mouth, breaking the kiss with a huff. “I liked that shirt, dick. You owe me twenty bucks.”

You’re not listening, eyes trained on the bare skin of his chest as everything seems to slow down for a second. Of course, you’ve seen Patrick shirtless before, when he’s on the court and it’s above ninety or when he’s taking up space in Art’s dorm. This feels different, a completely new situation where it’s actually okay for you to stare at the expanse of his torso. 

You can’t help reaching out to touch him again— running your greedy hands down his chest, his abs, the sharp ‘v’ cut of his hips that makes its way into the waistband of his shorts. Your manicured nails scratch through the dark hair of his happy trail, you can see the muscles in his stomach jump.

“Fuck,” you whisper breathlessly and immediately regret it. He was already insufferable— all you fucking needed was for him to know how you felt right now. How the sight of his barely undressed body is making your pussy soak through your panties.

Patrick doesn’t even gloat, just uses his tight grip on your hips to flip you so you’re pressing onto the door harshly. He impatiently yanks the skirt of your dress up, wasting no time in hooking a finger on the lace of your panties and moving the fabric to the side for easier access.

You hear him pop the button of his shorts open, his zipper following close behind. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this.” He says, sliding the thick tip of his cock through your slick lips, brushing himself against your entrance teasingly. “I’m gonna make you think twice about bitching me out ever again.” He seals his promise by grabbing your hair and yanking, causing a surprised whine to fall from your lips. His voice is so patronizing, but you aren’t getting mad like you should be. You’re just getting wetter, getting desperate with the need for him to get inside you right fucking now.

You grit your teeth in frustration, exhaling sharply through your nose. “I hate you.” You hiss, grinding back against his hard cock. You gasp raggedly as he starts to sink himself inside you, not stopping until his hips are flush against your ass. “Shit!” Your hands grip the door so hard you’re scared one of your nails will break. The stretch of him burns in the best way possible. You’d never say it out loud, not wanting to inflate his ego anymore than you probably already have, but he’s definitely the biggest cock you’ve taken. Almost porn-star big.

“I know.” He replies easily, hiking your thigh up with his hand as his hips start to pound mercilessly into the meat of your ass, not even giving you time to get used to the thick stretch of him. The loud smack of skin on skin fills the tiny closet easily, you hope to God the amount of clothes shoved in here somehow muffles the sound. The rough denim of his shorts scratches against your raw skin, adding to the sting of his hips.

Patrick was pounding into you in a way that makes you feel every inch of him. His cock felt impossibly big, filling you up like he was carving a place for himself inside of you. The sting in your pussy at the stretch of him is mind-numbing, you think you’d collapse from how hard your thighs were shaking if he wasn’t practically holding you up.

His big hand grips the sensitive skin of your inner thigh hard enough that it’ll probably be bruised by tomorrow. You distantly hope he’s high up enough that your tennis skirt will cover it, because if not it’ll be a hard thing to talk your way out of.

You throw your head back, a strained moan erupting from your lips. Your nails scratch at the paint on the door's edges, raking small lines down the wall. The loud squelch of your pussy’s overflowing wetness every time he sinks back inside you would be embarrassing if you had the mental capacity to care.

“Fuck yeah, keep making those slutty sounds, baby. Want the whole fucking party to hear how good I’m making you feel on this cock,” he mutters, hiking your leg up higher so he can pound into you deeper.

He drops your thigh, sliding his hand up your body and around your throat. You whine loudly, pushing back into his thrusts harder. Guys have tried the choking thing in the past, but Patrick’s hand is the only one that’s felt right. His long fingers curling around your throat like they belong there.

“Shit, fuck- don’t stop.” you mewl, lips parted in ecstasy. His hand squeezes a little tighter, not enough to cut off your breathing, just enough to get your eyes rolling back into your head as your pussy weeps around the thick length of his cock.

“That’s it, taking my fucking cock like you were made for it,” Patrick grates through a groan, gripping your hips and pulling out from your tight hole to spit on where his cock bumps up against your entrance before plunging back in.  You jolt at the extra wetness, whining at how dirty it is. “So fucking tight— does it hurt, baby?” he asks in a barely breathless voice, laughter edging his tone. “Is my fat cock hurting your tight little pussy?”

“God– shit, yes!” you sob loudly, cheek rubbing against the wood of the door as you nod your head frantically. “Hurts so fucking good.” You stop caring about inflating his ego, letting moans fall freely from your lips as you get closer to the edge.

“Fuck yeah, I’m gonna come,” he grunts, his rhythm growing sloppy and erratic as his muscles tense. He wraps your hair in his other hand, pulling hard enough to make your neck crane back awkwardly. He leans forward, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “I can feel you, fucking clenching up on me so tight,” he whispers, still pounding into you roughly. “I know you’re close. Do it. Come all over my cock like a slut.”

Patrick's hand tightens around your throat as he talks, cutting off your air for just a second. “Patrick!” Your voice sounds weak and strained, your hand coming up to wrap around his wrist desperately.

He pulls out abruptly, dropping your hair from his fist to frantically jerk his cock, burying his face in your neck. You can hear the lewd shlick shlick shlick of your wetness help his hand glide over the skin of his cock quickly. Patrick lets out a loud growl before you feel the sharp bite of his teeth sinking in where your shoulder meets your neck, muffling a loud groan of your name as he sprays hot come over the skin of your lower back and the swell of your ass. 

The feeling of Patrick’s hand wrapped around your throat as his come paints your skin has you catapulting over the edge. Eyes rolling back in your head as your convulsing pussy gushes wet over his spent cock. 

You drag in greedy lungfuls of air, chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. “You came first.” You say breathlessly, voice scratchy and hushed. Patrick chuckles against your skin, swatting the tender flesh of your ass lightly. 

“Shut the fuck up.” He mutters half-heartedly, nuzzling his nose in your neck in a way that seems far too intimate for what the two of you just did. You don’t say anything.

Patrick eventually peels himself off your back, but the warmth of his body stays wrapped around you as he starts to gently wipe your skin clean. You’re ready to scold him for using some poor guy's coat as a come-rag, but when you turn your head to glare at him he’s using the inside of his own shirt. You wrinkle your nose, but a tiny smile fights its way onto your lips. So gross, you think with a sort of reluctant fondness.

He leans over to fix your panties back over your puffy, abused pussy. Your thighs continue to shake weakly as you try to stand on your own, still unsteady without Patrick holding you up. He gives you a sweet kiss on the back of your shoulder, smacking his lips loudly. You huff out a tiny laugh, pushing away from the door to face him.

You watch him as he languidly gets re-dressed. He looks well-fucked, his hair and clothes are mess, his face is flushed and sweaty. Your eyes trail down to where he’s buttoning up his atrocious shorts. 

The fabric around the crotch is darkened with your release, wetness soaking the denim around the zipper and front pockets. You gawk at it, a mix of terror and excitement swirling through your stomach. “You can’t go back out like that.” you say to his shorts, shame burning your cheeks. 

Patrick follows your gaze down to his crotch. A pleased smirk plays on his lips when he looks back at you. “I’ll text you later.” Is all he says, zipping his fly and turning towards the door. 

“You don’t have my number.” You say, tugging the skirt of your dress down over your hips. You can slowly feel the horny fog leave your brain, leaving you clear-minded and a little panicked.

He cracks the door open, but before walking out of the closet he looks back at you over his shoulder. “Art’ll give me your number. “ He says casually with a small shrug of his shoulder. You suddenly feel sick, wondering how many other people have heard that line before getting completely ghosted. 

Patrick must see the negative thoughts running through your mind play out on your face. He gives you an actual smile, one that has his eyes crinkling up the tiniest bit at the corners. “Promise.” He says with a reassuring nod, it’s the most sincere you’ve ever seen him. You bite your lip to stop from smiling at the hope blooming in your stomach, nodding back at him slowly. He throws you one last toothy grin before he’s walking out and closing the door behind him.

You sigh contently, staring at the closed door for a few beats before your phone buzzes to life from where it's laying on the floor. You bend over to search for it, blindly rooting around until you see the tiny display light. The ringing stops before you can answer, when you flip the screen up to check your inbox you have seven missed texts and two missed calls.

Four texts and two calls from Art, and just three texts from Tashi.

arty where are you? i’ve been looking for you are you okay? hello???

tash you know you're not invisible right? everyone saw your little show have fun <3

tags are now in the comments! if you want to get tagged for any of my works just fill out this form!

mini a/n: yes i did change the title leave me lmao love you!

[reiderwriter]

Everyone Looks Better in a Sundress

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader (GN + AFAB)

Summary: The AC at the BAU decides to take a holiday during a summer heatwave, and when you decide the FBI’s dress code is merely a suggestion, you unwittingly catch Spencer’s eye.

Genre: smut (18+, minors DNI)

Warnings: Dom!Spencer, sub!reader, semi-public sex, fingering, car sex, degradation, name-calling, edging, praise-kink, dumbification, basically Spencer is a tease and the reader really gets off on using his official title.

Word Count: 3.8k

Authors Note: Hello! This is my first posted fic, so any feedback is welcome and absolutely appreciated (I tried to keep it GN!AFAB but if you notice any gendered pronouns pls lmk immediately!) I finally decided to start writing again after a few years, so I might be a bit rusty but I recently started rewatching Criminal Minds and I am so in love with Spencer! This little fic was inspired by @imagining-in-the-margins CM Summer Sunshine Fic Challenge, so big thank you to them for the inspiration! This could also develop into a multi part fic in the future, so if that’s something you’d be interested in, please let me know in the tags and comments! XOXO K

Part two!

After three years in the BAU, you should know that summers in Quantico, Virginia are nothing to play about. Sure, it could be cloudy sometimes, and summer rain did allow for some relief, but with a heatwave on the way and a week of office work ahead of you, it seemed every member of your team was excited for the office AC. 

That was, of course, until the maintenance department sent out an office-wide email telling you it was “undergoing work” for the foreseeable future. 

You received the email during your commute, and immediately turned around to change. There was no way you were surviving in your slacks and long-sleeve shirt, and, truth be told, you knew that your bosses wouldn’t mind if you were a little more relaxed in your workplace attire if you weren’t going to be spending time in the field. 

It took all of thirty seconds to shoot a message to Garcia, telling her that you’d be a few minutes late for your daily carpool, letting her know the situation so she didn’t hack into your car GPS (which she still claims she absolutely did not do the last time you accidentally slept in, but would in an emergency just to know you were safe). 

She quickly sent you a reply: “put on that floral number we picked up last week! Between you and Morgan, I'm hoping my eyes will be feasting today 😉.” 

You let out a little chuckle as you read the message, and quickly complied. A sundress didn’t sound too bad right now at all. 

The dress in question was perhaps pushing it slightly for office work. It was short, and you knew immediately when putting it on that you would spend the day pulling it down to a more appropriate length. But the shade of blue fit your skintone perfectly, and the floaty material was exactly what you needed to beat the heat. 

Grabbing your keys again before you could second guess yourself, you didn’t let your mind linger quickly on the thought that perhaps the dress was a little attention grabbing. And perhaps there was someone in the office whose attention you wanted to grab. 

-X-

The commute into the office wasn’t bad, but stepping out of your nicely temperature regulated car into a wall of heat made you thank yourself for your foresight. And it seemed that the rest of your team was dealing similarly. Walking into the office, you noticed that Prentiss had divested herself of her shirt, sitting comfortably with an iced coffee and red tank top, an electric fan inches from her face. Morgan was similarly outfitted in lighter clothes than usual, and you could audibly hear Penelope’s brain working to come up with the best heat related compliment for her work husband. You couldn’t see Hotch or Rossi, but you knew they kept their own back-up units in their offices, so they wouldn’t be struggling at all today. You assumed JJ, too, was in her office.

“Well, look at you Cutie. You’re gonna break some hearts today, I know.” You roll your eyes as you throw your bag down. You were used to Morgan’s playful teasing by now, but compliments and affirmations were always welcome. You grimaced looking down at your desk chair and realised you had another problem. Your very recent purchase of a black leather office chair was going to absolutely make your day a living hell. Before you resigned yourself to a day of sitting in the orthopedic seventh layer of hell, your heard the angelic call of your office BFF.

“It feels like the devil’s armpit in here, god, do not expect an miracles from me today, I’m collecting my laptop and immediately moving away from all the heavy heat-producing machinery in my cave. Anyone got any space at their desk for me to work at?” 

“Yes!” You replied a little too quickly. 

“Feel free to make yourself at home, Pen, I have to look over some files with Reid later anyways so I’ll just pull up a spare chair to his desk, it’s all yours.” You thanked your lucky stars that everyone was too hot to tease you about your imminent proximity to the office’s Boy Wonder. 

It turns out hiding a small, tiny, stupid crush from a team of FBI profilers wasn’t the easiest thing to do, but you were confident in thinking the only one who had clocked on so far was Penelope. And that was only because of your weekly girls nights and an unfortunate habit of spilling secrets while intoxicated. Sure, the others still teased sometimes, but that was only because the two of you were the easiest targets. And they just didn’t know how on the nose they were sometimes. 

She gave you a quick look, of the ‘we will be discussing this later’ variety but didn’t say anything else and quickly excused herself to collect her things. 

You quickly pulled up a (non-leather) chair next to Reid’s and straightened out your dress as you started searching for the file you were looking for. Although you absolutely had an ulterior motive to intruding on his space, you actually did have work to do. But the heat, and the knowledge that you’d be working closely with Reid again any minute now did nothing to help you stay focused. 

Of course, having worked on the same team now for three years meant that you’d been alone together before. In all honestly, he was your partner of choice for any field task and you complimented each other well. The two of you worked together on Geographical Profiles for the majority of your cases, using your people skills, and his practical knowledge to gain insight into the locations unsubs lived, worked, murdered and hid their victims. And of course, you were friends outside the office, too. But you felt there was a distance between the two of you that made itself known the minute you stepped off the Jet or out of the bullpen. 

As you searched the desk, you let your mind wander to what he would look like in this heat. You knew he didn’t deal with the heat well, and could often be found with his shirt sleeves rolled up and top buttons undone on the cases in the warmer climates. You thought about him panting in the heat, pushing his hair out of his face, glistening with sweat and grumbling quietly about the heat. You specifically thought back to a case from a few weeks back, where the two of you had an awkward run-in with an automatic sprinkler when you made your way to interview a witness. His purple shirt had ended up soaked, and on day six of the investigation, his go bag was thankfully short of replacement clothing. So he’d sat in the precinct, shirt semi-transluscent, completely oblivious to your brazen oggling and sudden lack of anything intellectual to say. Or anything to say in general. 

It was only as you felt yourself getting warmer (a particularly impressive feat on today of all day’s) that you had to pull yourself out of the fantasy. But of course, as you stood up to get yourself a cool drink, you realised you were face to face with the man of your fantasies. 

“Y/N? Did you need something?” He looked down at you, with a soft smile on his face. 

“Oh! No, it was Garcia, she, um, she needed somewhere to work because her office is practically a sauna with all those computers. And I was thinking, we still need to work on that report on the geographical profile from the last case, so I offered her…my…” You trailed off, noticing you were rambling and allowed yourself a second to look at the man in front of you properly for the first time that day. 

It was going to be a miracle if you got any work done ever again.  

Like you, he’d opted for a change in uniform. He’d rid himself of his usual waistcoat-cardigan combo and was left in a button down shirt. It was, as you’d hoped and prayed, open slightly more than usual at the top. You frowned unconsciously as you realised he had also pushed his shirt sleeves up to his elbows, unhappy that you wouldn’t get to watch him do it in-person, his veins popping out as he exerted himself in the smallest way. 

A few seconds of silence passed, and you had to make yourself tear your eyes away from a droplet of sweat that was neatly making its way down his throat, tracing a line that you could only hope to one day follow with your lips.  When you snapped your eyes up to his, he nervously did the same, gripping  his bag a little tighter to him. 

“Oh, yeah that sounds good, um, let me just put my bag down and we can, uh, get started I guess.” 

“Yeah of course. I was just gonna grab a drink first, do you want one?” 

“Sure, yeah, a coffee would be good.”

“Okay, I’m no expert but that cannot be healthy in this heat. I know you’re practically a caffeine addict at this point, but I’m getting you a glass of water and you’re going to thank me, okay Doctor?”

He rolled his eyes and settled comfortably into his seat, but made no complaints as you walked away. 

-X-

“This is ridiculous, how can they expect us to work like this?” Agent Prentiss grumbled from her desk. 

“Oh, come on now, Prentiss, you can’t be complaining about a little heat, now.” 

You rolled your eyes at your coworkers playful back-and-forth, doing your best to not melt into your borrowed seat. You’d been working side-by-side with Reid for the last three hours and the heat was now unbearable. You were stuck to the seat in an uncomfortable way, especially with the extra exposed skin from your dress. It had ridden up your legs more than you expected it would, so you were constantly shifting in your seat attempting to keep yourself decent. 

The heat rolling off your teammate didn’t help. You had assumed that his love of cardigans, scarves and layers in general meant that he usually ran on the cooler side, but he was practically burning up next to you, making any and all accidental touch near intolerable. 

Each accidental brush of his fingers as you passed files between the two of you, each knock of your knees together under the desk as you moved to read over one-anothers shoulders, and every time you got up for another drink, it’s like he’s read your mind because he stood up at the same time and you had to awkwardly untangle yourself from the mess of desk chairs and office furniture. With every touch, you feel yourself getting hotter and hotter, the heat pooling between your legs embarrassingly.

It’s only when, later in the day, he brushes the seam of your skirt with his fingers when reaching over you with his other hand for a file you know for a fact he does not need, you realise that all of those accidental touches may have been absolutely intentional. 

Lowering your voice to a whisper, you bring your lips closer to his ears.”Spence, what was that?” You try to keep your voice steady, but his fingers are stil lingering closer to your sensitive areas than you found comfortable.

He drops his eyes to yours, looking you in the eye for the first time since you started working together in a comfortable silence. 

“What was what?” He asks innocently, his cheeks flushes as he starts drawing small circles on your thigh.

“You’re touching me. You’ve been touching me a lot today, Doctor.”

“Oh, I’m Doctor now, am I?” He smiles at you before quickly moving his attention back to the file he was reading. 

“Don’t change the subject.” You feel your whole body flush, as he ignores you and continues his reading, not removing his hand from your leg the entire time. 

“S-Spencer, I’m serious.”  He looks at you again then, and your heart jumps into your throat as you realise he’s removed his hand from the hem of your skirt, only to have it return under the material, moving closer and closer to where you really wanted him. 

“You know,” he whispers under his breath, so quiet you’re sure that no one could overhear, “you look really pretty in this dress.”

Your brain is short circuiting as you feel his hand on your inner thigh, failing to register the implication of his words as you do your best to stammer out a reply. 

“A-actually, Garcia chose it out for me. She said that you would-” you cut yourself off before you can say anymore. You’re surrounded by a room of your close friends and teammates and you’re doing your best not to beg your incredibly attractive coworker to push his fingers into you right then and there. Biting your lip so you don’t say anything else, you try to stand and shift away. 

But Reid is there, and with his other hand he maneouvers you even closer to him somehow.  

“She said I would what, beautiful?”

He’s so close now and you find yourself again staring at his exposed neck, wanting nothing more than to bury your head in him and kiss and lick and bite until he gives you what you want. The little circles he’s drawing on your legs are removing your inhibitions quicker than any alcohol could. 

But then he grips you a little tighter, and forces you to look up into his eyes again and respond. 

“She said that you would, uh, she said that you would’nt be able to take your eyes off of me. We were shopping together and she was just teasing and, well, yeah.”

“All dressed up for me, then? You thought you’d test the theory and see if she was right?” 

And suddenly he’s ghosting his fingers across your panties and you’re doing your best to not make any other noises as he looks you deep in your eyes.

“Do you think she was right, Y/N?” He asks. But before your brain can catch up and choose whether or not to answert, he’s pulling away. He’s standing up and he’s walking over to Morgan, file in hand, asking questions about another previous case file, and you’re left sitting at his desk questioning if any of that actually just happened.

-X-

You spent the rest of the day in a daze. Luckily, your team was so busy complaining about the heat that you were sure none of them noticed the tension you carried through the rest of your day. With the AC still not working, Garcia had gained permission from Hotch to head back to her own apartment to finish up the day with more appropriate equipment, and had quickly evacuated your desk, allowing you to retreat back to your own space. 

Emily had finished her own paperwork early due to a well-timed bet with Morgan, and had taken herself off to JJ’s office, and Morgan was meeting with Hotch in his office to discuss a potential death row intervew. So with the end of the workday in sight, only you and Reid remained in the bullpen. 

After your little run in, you knew that you weren’t going to get any effective work done. Emily had once joked that Reid’s high IQ gets slashed to 60 every time he comes in contact with an attractive woman. At the time, you’d laughed, joked along. Nowthat it was your reality, it wasn’t as funny to you. 

He’d played with you, called you beautiful, had his hands on you in the most frustratingly dizzying way- and then just as soon walked away from you. It wasn’t as if you wanted him to take you right then and there, in front of the entire office. 

In fact, you’re quite sure that no matter how horny you were, you’d have stopped him before he went any further that publically. But you weren’t as sure you wouldn’t have dragged him off to a supply closet and forced him down on his knees and under your skirt. 

To be short, you were pissed. He had left you, hot and bothered, on a day where you literally could get no relief from the heat. 

You watched him work for a while after that. His desk faced away from yours, which meant you could covertly watch him whilst he worked and he would be none the wiser. After catching yourself staring a hole into the back of his head for the fifth time in an hour, you  grunted out a curse and started packing your things up for the day. Unfortunately, you were just loud enough to catch the man’s attention. 

“Leaving so soon, princess?”

“Yes. It’s hot and I’m tired and I just want to go home and take a cold shower and get into bed.” You started packing your things up again, but you quickly noticed that Spencer was doing the same. 

“Are you leaving as well?” You asked, your stomach doing a small flip in apprehension of his answer. 

“Yeah. I’m also hot, and tired and a cold shower sounds amazing right about now.” 

You flushed at even the slightest change of a double meaning. Did he want to shower with you? Was he really going to step over that line? 

He continued to pack up his things calmly, and you did the same. You walked towards the elevator, and it wasnt until he reached from behind you to press the call button that you realised he was so closely following you. 

“And besides, your bed sounds amazing right about now.” The hairs on your neck stood up as he whispered into your ear, his hot breath fanning against your neck as you felt heat pool between your legs for the second time that day. You froze up like a deer in headlights, and as the elevator dinged open, you felt Spencer walk you in, press the button, and close the door before making his next move. 

“You didn’t answer me earlier, you know? When I asked about the dress? Do you think Garcia was right?” He had crowded you into one corner of the elevator, and your brain was still short-circuiting. Shit, maybe you were the one whose IQ was cut in half, because the man in front of you seemed more confident than you had ever seen him before. 

His placed his hands on the guard rail either side of you, as one of his legs found its way between yours and you let out a small whimper, then cursed yourself when you saw the smirk growing on his face. 

“Come on, Princess, use your words.” He teased again. 

“She wasn’t right.” You breathed out. “You looked at me a few times, but nothing too long and nothing…inappropriate, but-”

“But what?” He pushed his leg further into you, moving his hands to grip the fabric at our waist,  and suddenly you were counting your blessings that no other agent in the building had decided to use the elevator right now. 

“But you can’t keep your hands off of me.” His lips crashed into yours the second you finished your sentence, as you desperately grabbed at his hair, desperate to feel more and more of him against you despite the sticky heat. 

He pulled away reluctantly as the elevator came to a stop in the basement carpark, but you still desperately clung to him, pressing kisses into his jaw and down his neck as you breathed in the scent of his sweat on his skin. Your words had failed you, but your body was desperate to communicate exactly what you needed. 

He chuckled as he pulled you off of him, stroking your hair as he pulled you to your car. Opening the passenger side door for you and taking the keys from your bag, he placed a kiss to your temple, pulling away only enough to whisper into your ear. ”Which one of us can’t keep their hands off the other now?” 

You were hot and delirious and you were not going to interrupt him now. He climbed into the driver’s seat, something you knew he didn’t do often, and placed his hand on your leg again as he drove. 

“Spread your legs,” he ordered as soon as you were far enough away from the building. You complied immediately, not wanting to interrupt anything the man might do to you. “Good girl,” he mumbled as he immediately picked up where he left off earlier, rubbing your sensitive nub through your underwear. Your dress was pushed up now 

“You know, Garcia was right” he spoke again, his fingers snaking their way under the elastic of your underwear. You could only moan in surprise, desperately close to getting exactly what you wanted.  

“I have been staring at you this whole day. You came in this short dress, practically on display for anyone to see.” His fingers were now slowly circling your clit, going torturously slowly as you bucked up your hips for some much needed friction.  

“When you got me that glass of water, I followed you, you know. Watched you reach for the glass on the top shelf, saw your skirt riding up. We’re you so desperate for me to notice you that you put yourself on display for the entire office like a little whore?” You moaned in surprise as his words registered in your mind. 

You tried to reply, to deny and protest your innocence, but he chose that minute to thrust a finger into you, the awkward angle forced by your position in the car creating a beautiful friction. You started rocking your hips quicker against his hand, opening yourself up to him fully, and grabbing his wrist so he couldn’t pull away for a third time that day. 

“You can’t even deny it, Look at you using my hand to get yourself off. Are you gonna come for me? Gonna do it right here in your car?”  You moan out a yes as he adds another finger, stretching you out further as you whimper around him. 

“Fuck, yes Spence, I’m a whore, your little whore.” You feel that familiar coil in the bottom of your stomach tighten and soon your releasing yourself all over his hands.  Gasping for air, your head falls back on the passenger seat, and you release your grip on Spencer’s hands. 

“Good job, princess, you did so well for me. We’re almost home now, let’s get you in that shower.” You whimper a little, nodding as you allow your brain to settle once again, completely comfortable with letting Spencer take control and do whatever he needs to do with you for the rest of the night. 

-X-

[headkiss]

steady hand

pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!reader

summary: hotch catches you at the worst times, but you’re not mad about it. or: 4 times you need hotch’s help +1 time he needs yours.

word count: 6.1k

warnings: probably very inaccurate descriptions of r’s job (it’s for the plot, okay??), shy!reader, a very small injury description, yearning (?), first kiss, fluff !!!

a/n: hiiiii this is my very first hotch fic (gasp) so i hope i did okay!!! i’m excited to be writing for him and i have enjoyed it so far and i hope you will too!!! please please let me know what you think and if you’d want to see more of him from me <33

༄

People are usually impressed when you tell them you work at the BAU.

Which, you won’t lie, is something to be proud of, but their first thought is always that you’re doing something big and solving cases. They ask you if you were there when this case was solved or when that killer was caught.

Then there’s the nodding and dissipation of their excitement when you explain that you work a desk job there. Organize files, write reports, that sort of thing. That is a lot less impressive to most.

You’re no Agent Morgan, or Dr. Reid. Certainly no Agent Hotchner or Prentiss. Instead of being on the field, you spend your time fighting with a printer.

Getting the papers you needed should have been simple, a quick in and out that would have you back hiding behind your desk in minutes. Of course, the universe or something must be against you, because instead, you’ve spent at least twenty minutes trying to figure out what’s wrong.

It isn’t jammed (you’ve checked about five times to be sure) and you’re not educated in printers enough to know how to fix whatever’s going on. You’re just lucky nobody else has needed it yet.

“Come on,” you mutter, trying to pull it away from the wall to get a better look.

You’re sure there’s stress sweat building on your forehead. The last thing you want to do is ask someone for help, to make yourself too visible in this place full of important, intimidating people. You’d rather struggle on your own for now.

You make sure that the thing is plugged in (it is) and then check if it’s jammed. Again.

“Piece of shit,” you’re mumbling at the thing, leaning over it looking for anything out of place.

That’s when you hear someone clear their throat behind you. The sound has you jumping, your knuckles smacking against the wall where your hand had been wedged between it and the printer. You turn around to find Agent Hotchner.

He’d been walking by the printer room when he heard the grumbled curse words. Peeking inside, he’d been pleasantly surprised to find you fussing over the printer. He bit back a chuckle before making his presence known.

You tug your skirt down where it’d ridden up, fiddling with the hem as you try to push down your embarrassment. Of course he’d be the one to see you, in his crisp suit and all. He’s leaning a shoulder against the doorframe, his arms crossed loosely. You swallow and try not to look at his biceps.

“Sorry, sir. The printer doesn’t seem to be, um, printing.”

“I’m assuming that’s why you were fighting with it.”

You fight a wince, “you heard that?”

“Heard what?” He asks, though by the twitch of his lips, you know that he’s well aware of what you’re talking about. He then gestures at the cause of your issues behind you, “it’s not jammed, is it?”

“I don’t think so. It wasn’t when I checked, at least.”

You’re trying not to act as nervous as you are. You don’t think you’ve ever really spoken to Agent Hotchner, save for small ‘hello’s and that one time you apologized for bumping into him. He’s handsome—you’ve always thought so—and, more importantly, he’s basically your boss.

“Let me take a look,” he says, walking over. You step aside, staying out of the way.

“It’s alright,” you start as he looks over it, “I’m sure you have much more important things to do than fix a printer, sir.”

Hotch’s eyes flick over to where you stand, a hand still fiddling with the hem of your skirt, your hair a little messy, your eyes a little wide and worried. You look pretty, he thinks. And sure, he does have things he should be doing instead of trying to fix this printer, but he doesn’t really care.

“Don’t worry about that,” he tells you.

He looks back to the printer, and he seems pretty convinced about trying to help, so you drop it.

While he’s distracted, you take the opportunity to look at his profile. The slope of his nose, the cut of his jaw, the way his brows are pinched a little in focus. It’s unfair, you think, for him to be smart and brave, and be so good-looking on top of it all.

Like he’d heard your thoughts, felt your gaze, he looks over at you again. You turn your eyes toward the floor quickly.

It’s a couple of minutes before anyone speaks. You, staring at the carpet until your vision goes a little fuzzy. Hotch, pushing buttons and flicking switches trying to figure out whatever was going on with the damn printer.

Then, the sound of the ink swiping over the pages, the papers spitting from the printer. You look over at it, mouth slightly parted. What can’t he do?

The sound of your name has your eyes snapping up to his. It’s yet another surprise, him knowing your name. You’re not that important, in the grand scheme of things at the BAU, in the world, really. Someone meant to stay hidden in the background. And still, he knows your name.

“It should be fine now,” he says, grabbing your papers from the cartridge and handing them to you as he stands up straight. “Let me know if it gives you trouble again.”

You grab the pages from him slowly, still shocked at the whole exchange. Your fingers brush against his as you do. “I- Thank you, sir.”

He nods, moving towards the hall. He pauses in the doorway, turning back towards you. “Hotch is fine.”

“Sorry?”

“You keep calling me ‘sir.’ You don’t have to. Just Hotch is fine.”

“Right. Sorry, sir- I mean, Hotch,” you test it out. “Thank you again.”

Yes, Hotch thinks, he likes you saying his name a whole lot more. He sends you a kind smile, “no problem.”

Hotch walks away, probably towards his office where he has very important things to do. Stuff that was surely delayed because he paused to help you. You stare at the doorway for a minute, until you give yourself a papercut and look down at it.

Aaron Hotchner knows who you are.

-

You’re two shitty coffees deep so far, your report open on your desk, the typing bar blinking on the screen of your computer.

There’s pages to go, though you’re not sure how many. You’ve been doing the sort of mindless, robot typing you do when you’re tired. When you’re preoccupied with trying not to glance in the direction of Hotch’s office.

The team got back sometime last night, long after you’d already gone home. From somewhere in Indiana, you think. You’re not sure how they do it, flying about and still coming into the office. You’re tired and you can’t even remember the last time you’ve been on a plane. Add the crime fighting and you’d be a goner.

Blinking yourself from your thoughts, you look back at the blank pages spread out in front of you. It’s not unusual for you to be missing pieces that you need to complete things, it’s just inconvenient. You always end up having to ask someone for the files you need, and then you feel like a burden.

It’s stupid, but in a place full of important people, it’s easy to feel like you’re just in the way.

Anyway, it’s your job, so you push away from your desk and stand, tugging the sleeves of your sweater over your hands.

Your first thought is to go to Reid. As far as friendship goes, you’d consider yourself closest to that definition with him. He’s also the least intimidating of the bunch, probably because you see the most of yourself in him.

You find him in the kitchen with Agent Jareau, both holding their own mugs, probably filled with the same coffee as the one that sits on your desk. You knock gently on the door even though it’s open.

“Hi, sorry to bother you. I was just wondering if either of you have the files from that case you worked a couple weeks back. The one in Ohio,” you shuffle on your feet under their gaze. “I need them for this report.”

“Hey,” Reid speaks first, smiling kindly, “I don’t remember keeping them, but I can double check in my desk if you would like.”

“Oh, that’s okay. You don’t have to do that, I’m sure I’ll find them somewhere.”

You’re about to head out the door when Agent Jareau stops you, “wait, I’m pretty sure Hotch has them. I can go ask him for you.”

It’s silly to feel nervous talking to them, especially when nobody’s ever been anything but nice to you. A little bit of the twist in your gut comes undone.

“No, no. I’ll go ask him if he isn’t busy, thank you though.”

“You should be fine, the door’s open,” she tells you.

You nod, sending the both of them a smile you hope doesn’t look awkward. “Thanks again.”

Their voices picking up their conversation follow you out the door. You cross the space, saying small ‘hello’s to Agent Morgan and Agent Prentiss when they greet you. You try to ignore the prickle of eyes on you as you climb the steps and head to Hotch’s office.

His jacket is draped across the back of his chair, his sleeves rolled up on his forearms. It’s probably the most disheveled you’ve ever seen him, and he’s only missing a single layer. You look away from his arms when he says your name.

Hotch had his head bent, looking over a case when he’d heard footsteps, and he’d been glad to find you standing in his doorway. You work in the same place, yet he barely sees you. That’s probably why something lightens in his chest every time he does. The rarity, that’s all.

“Is this a bad time?” You ask.

“Not at all,” he leans back in his chair, “what can I do for you?”

“I’m really sorry to bother you, sir-”

“Hotch,” he reminds gently. His voice is easy, a hum that you think would sound good no matter what he was saying.

“Right, sorry. Hotch. I was just looking for some files that I need from a case you guys had for this report.”

“You’re gonna have to be more specific than that.”

Then, he smiles in that way that Aaron Hotchner so often does. A small twitch of his lips, a lift in the corners. One that you probably wouldn’t have caught if you weren’t paying so much attention. One that feels sort of like a gift.

You shake your head at yourself and elaborate, “the Ohio case. Three weeks ago, I think. I asked Agent Jareau, but she said you had them, so…”

Hotch wants to reassure you, but he’s not sure how to do it without standing up and letting himself grab your hand and squeeze it the way he’d like. And he can’t do that, not when you’re already nervous. Not when he’s not sure he could hold back after one touch.

“It’s no problem,” he opens one of his drawers, flips through folders until he finds what you’re looking for.

He stands up and walks around his desk until he’s in front of you, and he lets his gaze flick over your face while he has the chance. Your eyes find his easily, and you hope he can’t hear the catch in your breath.

Aaron isn’t usually so quiet with his affections, but that’s because he’s never found himself feeling this way at work. He wishes your desk was on his way to his office, just so he’d have an excuse to stop and talk to you. He makes sure never to use your favorite mug from the cupboard, just so you’ll be more likely to have it.

Hotch clears his throat, “here they are.”

He holds up the folder between you, his hand holding it loosely, the other hanging by his side. His fingers twitch.

You’re embarrassingly distracted by his exposed forearms, eyes trailing from his hand to the skin of his arm, to the way his shirt is tight where the sleeves are rolled. Then, it’s the color of his tie today, the bob of his Adam’s apple when he swallows.

His hand reaching for yours is enough to erase everything else. He lifts it and places the folder in your hold for you. Your skin burns even when he pulls away.

“You alright?” He asks. Probably because you’d been staring at him like a weirdo.

Get it together.

“Yeah. Yes, sorry. Just sort of spacey today, I guess.”

When you look back to his face, there’s nothing but a sort of softness in his eyes you can’t identify. He smiles at you, and for the second time, you feel like you’ve won something.

“Is that what you needed?” He asks.

You open the folder and peek inside. You find exactly what you’d been looking for, not that you’re surprised. Hotch knew what you’d meant and you didn’t doubt that.

“It is. Thank you, Hotch,” you grin lightly when you get that part right. “I’ll get out of your way.”

“You’re not in my way.”

Hotch says the words like he’d known you needed to hear them, like he’d known what runs through your mind so often, like he can read you. He probably can, you think. He is a profiler after all.

Still, the words make your heart do a stupid little jump.

“I’ll bring them back when I’m done,” you say.

“No rush. They’ll just be going back in the drawer anyway.”

“Well, thank you again.”

“It’s no problem, really.”

Hotch watches you walk back to your desk with your head down. Looking at the folder in your hand, he thinks, at least it’s an excuse for you to come see him again.

-

Hotch isn’t in his office when you return the files.

Since you can’t thank him in person—assuming he’s off with the team somewhere saving lives—you leave a sticky note on top of the folder. You drop it on his desk and leave before you second-guess yourself and rip the note off.

You can’t help but think that the office feels sort of empty without the team there. Without Hotch there. It’s how it is most days, so you’re not sure why the absence feels so present now. You shake it off.

The day passes by, then your drive home, and the rest of your night, too. Through it all, you can’t stop wondering what Hotch is doing, wherever he is. Hoping he’s safe.

You’re certainly not expecting to see him the next day, back so soon, but you can’t say you’re upset about it. It’s a brief glance, him walking into his office, the rest of the team and their chatter following, but it’s enough to make your work seem less tiring for some reason.

It was a quick case, and Aaron was glad to at least get a couple of hours of sleep in before coming into the office. When he sits at his desk, the first thing he notices is the folder you’ve left there. The small note in your handwriting.

‘Thank you :)’

He peels the note away and folds it up. Without thinking, it ends up tucked into the inside pocket of his jacket. It’s a simple piece of paper, but it’s heavy where it sits. He rubs a hand over the pocket where the note is and gets to work.

It’s not until a couple of hours later that Hotch ends up leaving his office. Conveniently, in the direction of your desk.

You’ve been burying yourself in your work, your leg bouncing nonstop, your nose inches away from the pages on your desk, your chair pushed in as close as it’ll go. You have to, because if you take a break, if you look away, your eyes will search for Hotch, and you don’t really want to think about what that means right now.

About the ache in your chest when he’s gone, the urge to go ask him a stupid question just to talk to him. It’s awful.

The pen you’re using suddenly runs out of ink, and it makes you pause long enough to feel a cramp in your hand. You sit up and huff, pulling your drawer open and digging around for another pen. Your name in Hotch’s voice has you shutting the drawer and spinning quickly.

It’s just your luck that your shirt gets caught, that the sound of the rip is too loud to play off or ignore.

“Oh gosh,” you whisper, looking down at the damage.

It’s a cheap shirt, you shouldn’t be surprised, but it’s worse than you’d expected. This is what you get for sitting so damn close. The side seam is split, and if you move too much, your bra would probably be visible.

“This is so embarrassing,” you say, holding the rip shut with one hand and holding the other on your forehead. Of course this would happen to you in front of him.

Aaron’s eyes hover where your skin had been exposed, even now that you hold your shirt shut, wondering if it’d feel as soft as it looks. He can’t even remember what he came over to do or say.

He swallows and looks at your face, “do you have another?”

You shake your head, still hiding behind your hand, “no. I really, really wish I did, though.”

“I have an extra one in my go bag. If you’d like?” He hears himself say the words, and he doesn’t regret them, necessarily, but it’s clear to him that you mess with his brain. He doesn’t think straight where you’re involved.

You peek up at him, dropping your hand to your side. “Are you sure? I could probably just use some paper clips, or something.”

“Nonsense. I’ll go get it, okay? I’ll bring it to the bathroom so you can change.”

“You don’t have to-”

Your name leaves his mouth again, gentle but firm. “I’ll grab it.”

“Okay.”

You speed-walk over to the washroom and walk in, closing the door only to block out the rest of the office, who surely noticed what just happened. You’re probably never gonna live this down.

Your overthinking doesn’t get very far, because after only a minute, Hotch is knocking on the door.

“It’s just me,” he says. ‘Just,’ like that word could ever be used to describe him. “You can just open the door a crack and I’ll pass the shirt through.”

You do as he says, tugging the door open until you can see a white dress shirt (of course) in his hand. You reach out and he hands it to you easily.

“Thank you, Hotch. I’ll wash it and give it back, I promise. Sorry for this.”

“Don’t worry about it.” You can’t see his face, but you can hear the sincerity in his voice. “I mean it.”

“Thanks,” you say quietly, closing the door.

His shirt is wrinkled from being packed in his bag, and the sleeves are long when you put it on, but it smells like him and isn’t ripped so you really can’t complain. You roll the sleeves and tuck the bottom into your pants, looking in the mirror to make sure you look at least a little bit put together.

Holy shit, you think. I’m wearing Aaron Hotchner’s shirt. What world have you been living in recently? To be interacting with him more often, to be feeling this sick skip in your heartbeat whenever you do.

You toss your ripped shirt in the garbage, look up, and huff out a breath before leaving the bathroom. You’re surprised to see Hotch still standing there.

“Oh,” you nearly bump into his chest when you walk out the door, but the warmth of his hand on your shoulder steadies you. “I didn’t know you were still there, sorry.”

“You don’t need to say sorry so much, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart. You’re dreaming, surely. You pinch yourself on the inside of your arm, just in case. You don’t wake up.

“I- um,” you’re fumbling for words because he’s standing there, looking at you softly, calling you ‘sweetheart’ in that voice of his.

Aaron doesn’t know where that came from, but he’s said it and it’s happened. With the way he thinks about you, how often he does, he can’t really be surprised. Besides, seeing you get flustered because of him is absolutely worth it.

“I wanted to thank you for getting those files back to me so quickly.”

Your eyes flick over to his arm, and it’s then he realizes that his hand is still on your shoulder. He pulls it away and stuffs it in his pocket. He’s probably imagining it, but he swears his palm is tingling.

You wipe your hands over your thighs, “right. It was no problem, really. I was mostly done with my report, so… Thanks for giving them to me.”

“I’m glad to be able to help,” he says. Then he walks back to his office.

You’re standing in front of the bathroom for what’s surely an odd amount of time. Even back at your desk, you can’t shake the haze you feel, a pink tint to your vision, a flutter in your gut.

You spend the rest of your day with your nose buried in the collar of Hotch’s shirt, avoiding the gazes of your coworkers around you.

Aaron spends the rest of the day thinking about how you looked in his shirt. About how you’d look in it and nothing else. He drags a hand over his face when that pops into his head.

“You good, boss?” Morgan asks from the doorway.

“I’m fine.” He doesn’t miss the knowing smirk on Morgan’s face.

-

It’s very rare that Aaron leaves work at a reasonable time. So rare that he can’t remember the last time he wasn’t the last person there.

He’s used to the late nights, the empty spaces, deserted desks. Even so, it’s nice to finish up earlier than he’d expected. He looks forward to the extra sleep he’ll get, the longer time frame to decompress.

Leaving work early already felt like a small victory for the day, and he feels like he’s won something bigger when he sees you in your car, still in the parking lot.

You’d left maybe twenty minutes before Hotch, though you’d assumed he’d be leaving hours after you like he usually does. Everything was fine, normal as you bid your goodbyes to your desk neighbors, as you rode the elevator down.

The sun has started setting, and the air gets cooler as it sinks. You fish your car keys from your bag and unlock it, getting in quickly and tossing your bag onto the passenger seat.

You like your job, sometimes you love it, even, but you look forward to going home either way. You think about the warm shower you’ll take, the shitty dinner you’ll end up eating. Your lonely plans are ruined as you twist your car key in the ignition, it sputters and doesn’t start.

“No, no. Come on,” your head falls back, you huff and take the key out.

You try again, and still, no luck. And again, and once more until you’re fed up with it and drop the keys in your lap. Your head is dropped against the steering wheel, allowing yourself a moment of dramatics from your defeat.

A knock on your window startles you upright. Your heart races for reasons other than fear when you look at who it is.

Hotch stands outside, leaning towards your window with a scrunch in his brows. When he catches your eye, he steps back from your door and gives you room to open it and step out.

You shut your car door behind you and lean your back against it, “hi.”

“Hi. Sorry to scare you, but I wanted to check that you were alright?”

“It’s okay,” your arms are folded behind your back, your hands twisting. “Um, it’s nothing, just some car troubles.”

“That doesn’t sound like nothing.”

“I guess not. It won’t start for some reason. I don’t know.” If he wasn’t standing right there, you’d probably smack yourself for how unsure you sound. “You keep catching me at the worst times, Hotch.”

He disagrees. Aaron can’t think of a time where seeing you could ever be a bad thing.

“You’re fine,” he says, his voice suddenly softer, “trust me.”

Despite the bite of the wind outside, the way he speaks warms you. He’s so honest in the way he speaks, in the sense that he sounds sure, even if it isn’t necessarily vulnerable. You don’t know how he does it.

A small smile spreads on your face before you can stop it, “okay, good. And thank you for checking on me. I’ll just call a cab and figure this out tomorrow.”

There’s no way he can let you take a cab. It’s obvious that with what he does, the things he sees, he’d rather know for sure you’d be safe getting home. But then, there’s the sort of floating feeling he has when he’s around you, one he’d like to feel for a little longer if he could.

“Let me drive you.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that, really. I’ll be fine.”

He ducks his head a little, catches your eye and holds you with that soft gaze of his. “Please, it’s not a problem. For my peace of mind.”

It doesn’t take much convincing, really. You’d much rather sit in a car that probably smells like him than in the back of a cab that smells like sweat.

“For your peace of mind, then. That’d be great.”

You grab your bag from your car before following Aaron to his, where he opens the passenger door for you and makes sure your legs are tucked inside before shutting it. He jogs around the front of his car and gets in.

“Where am I taking you?” He asks, starting his car. The radio hums softly through the speakers, and Hotch reaches over to turn on the heating when he catches you shivering a little.

You tell him your address, “you don’t have to drive me if it’s out of your way, Hotch. I mean it.”

“It isn’t out of my way,” he assures you, and he could easily be lying, but you accept it anyway.

It’s quiet for a little bit, besides the odd question from Aaron for which way to turn. You take the chance to look at him as he drives, his hands on the wheel, the street lights hitting his face. Your head lulls against the seat.

“You’re finished earlier than usual today,” you say. “Not that I know your schedule, or anything, I just-”

“Sweetheart,” he stops you, a smile spreading. It’s wider than what you’ve seen at work, unguarded enough to show his teeth. It’s really pretty. “It’s alright. It’s work I can be doing at home.”

“That’s good. A change of scenery, at least.”

“Exactly.”

You’re not sure what it is that feels different now, in the car. Maybe it’s because it’s only you and him, no prying eyes in the office, no concerns about what this is, what’s allowed. It might only be you, that feels this sort of spark with him, fizzing i’m the air between you. Either way, you’ll soak it up for the duration of the ride to yours.

Maybe that’s why you’re saying, “you know, I always thought you didn’t even know who I was. Until the printer thing.”

Aaron peeks over at you, leaned in his passenger seat. You look like you belong there, like there’s always been a spot for you in his life. Even when you’d started at the BAU, when he first saw you, he felt like it was right that you were there.

Hell, he’d asked Garcia who you were and has had your name in the back of his head since.

“I’ve always liked you,” he admits. He doesn’t say he’s always known you. Liked.

“Really?” You can’t help but ask. Someone like him even noticing you seemed unfathomable. But liking you? He’s gotta be lying.

“Really. Even when you were bumping into me.”

“You remember that?”

“Yeah, I do. You were looking down at the ground, walking like you were being timed. And you had on this light pink sweater.”

Your eyes go wide, focused on his face. You had been wearing a light pink sweater that day. And he remembers all of that? You think, if you looked at yourself in the mirror right now, your eyes would be in the shape of hearts, pulsing in your pupils.

“I can’t believe you noticed all of that.”

“I notice a lot of things,” he says.

Aaron has always had his guard up around new people, has always made himself more serious at work than anywhere else. Then you came along and he had to fight to keep things that way. It makes sense that the minute he sees you outside of work his walls would crumble to dust.

It was inevitable, really.

“I’ve always liked you, too.” Then, before he can say anything, you point at your building, “it’s this one here.”

The car rolls to a stop slowly, his turn signal flashing as he pulls over by the entrance of your apartment building. He puts the car in park and turns to you fully.

“Thank you for driving me.”

“No problem, sweetheart.”

His hand reaches out before he can really think about it, fingertips featherlight over your cheekbone, sliding over to tuck your hair behind your ear. Then, like it was never there, he pulls back. There’s a glow in his fingers where they’d brushed your skin, golden.

It matches the one you feel on your cheek, sparkling.

“Get in safe, okay?”

“It’s a few feet from here to the front door, Hotch. I’ll be alright.”

He huffs softly, twin smiles on your faces. Lovesick and shy, nervous and pink-hazed all at once.

“For my peace of mind,” he says.

“Fine, then. Your peace of mind,” you reach for the door handle, tugging it and pushing the door open. You look at Hotch again, like you can’t get yourself to stop. “Thanks again.”

“See you, sweetheart.”

“Bye.”

You step out and head to your door, turning around before walking inside to give him a wave. Aaron grins and waves back, watching you walk inside.

He stays parked by the curb until he sees a light flick on a couple of floors up.

-

+1

There’s a reason that Hotch is Unit Chief. He thinks quickly, keeps his head straight even with what he deals with every day. There’s also a reason his leadership has been questioned before, but never revoked.

He can be reckless, throwing himself into situations when he knows he probably should’ve waited for backup. This time, it only got him a split eyebrow and a few stitches. It’s been worse; this is nothing.

It is, however, proving to be an inconvenience. He’d gotten stitched up in the ER of whatever hospital was closest to where the team had caught their unsub. It had to be quick, from the hospital straight to the jet.

They’d told him to clean it up again and put a new bandage on it when he got back, which is what he’s trying to do now, in his office, with his laptop’s grainy camera as a mirror. He has the supplies the hospital gave him on his desk, but he can’t really see what he’s doing, and the task is taking much longer than he’d like.

His hands are a little shaky from the adrenaline of his day, and every time his arm comes up to reach his stitches, it blocks his view.

Then, he sees you walking up to his office.

Usually, you’d already be home by now, but you’d been yourself and messed up some of your paperwork, so you had to stay late to re-do it. When you catch sight of Hotch in his office, you’re not so annoyed with yourself.

You notice the things on his desk, the blood on the front of his shirt. Your feet carry you to his doorway easily. Last time you’d really spoken to him was that night in his car, and ever since, there’s been something boiling, a noticeable shift.

You tap your knuckles on his open door twice, “you okay?”

He gives up on dealing with his cut and looks at you instead, the slightly rumpled state of your clothes from a long day, the smile you wear that doesn’t exactly hide the concern in your eyes, the light from the hallway a halo around you. You’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.

“I’m alright. Just can't seem to do this right,” he says, gesturing to his eyebrow.

“Do you need help?”

Aaron has never been one to accept help easily, always one to do things on his own. But, when you’re offering so sweetly, when your help means your hands on his skin, how could he ever say no?

“That would be great.”

He pushes his chair back to give you room to stand in front of him. Your legs between his, leaning against the edge of his desk. His knees bump into the sides of your legs, little bursts of the kind of warmth sunlight emits on skin.

You reach for the wipes first, holding them in one hand and reaching up to his eyebrow, the other grasping his chin gently to keep his head steady.

His hand reaches up to hold your elbow. It could so easily be innocent, be almost nothing, but it feels like more. His thumb running back and forth, your face close enough to his to have your breaths mingling. It really feels like more.

“You’re here late,” he says, low and quiet.

“Spilled coffee all over my work. Had to start over. Can you believe it?” You speak just as quietly, eyes flicking from his cut down to his, just for a second.

“I can, actually. You’re sort of clumsy.”

“Hey!” He’s right, of course, but the warm chuckle he lets out is worth your dramatic gasp.

“It’s not a bad thing,” he assures you, squeezing your elbow. “I think it’s cute.”

“Well, thank you, then.”

You set the wipe aside and reach for the bandage next, placing it over his eyebrow and smoothing down the edges with a light touch. When you’re done, you pull back but don’t go far. Your hands fall from his face to grasp the edge of his desk instead.

“All done,” you say.

Aaron’s hands have shifted to your waist. His touch is so delicate, but you’d never ignore it. It might as well be bruising, the way his hands affect you.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Hotch.”

Now would be the time to walk out the door, to say ‘goodnight’ and head home, but you’re in no hurry. Not when his eyes are shining in the dimmed light of his office, soft and practically melting.

They seem to beckon you closer, and though you don’t have a reason this time, your face ends up near his, noses almost touching. It’s as far as you go, afraid you’re misreading things, afraid you’ll be wrong about this.

Hotch closes the space for you.

His chin tilts up, his mouth catching yours softly at first. His hands tighten on your waist, his lips slightly chapped and completely perfect against yours.

You think your knees might buckle, so you put your hands on his shoulders, thumbs digging into his skin, like you’re trying to make sure he’s real. You’re not sure how you manage to kiss him back but you do, and you hear the sharp intake of breath he takes when you push back.

The kiss doesn’t deepen, but it doesn’t have to. You can feel plenty in it already.

It’s not long before Hotch pulls away, leaning back in his chair and tilting his head to look up at you. He removes one of your hands from his shoulder and holds it in his.

“We shouldn’t do this here,” he says, his thumb running over your knuckles.

You look down at your feet, at his legs next to yours. The hand still on his shoulder falls to your side, suddenly feeling nervous.

“You’re right, I’m so-”

“But,” he stops your apology before you can say it. As if you’d ever need to apologize for kissing him. “I’d like to take you to dinner sometime. If you’d want that.”

You look back at his face, eyes searching. He smiles so softly at you, it’s the kind of smile you could only ever give someone you like in this way. Someone you like enough to kiss.

“I’d really like that, Hotch.”

“Good,” he stands, but his hands don’t leave you. “And sweetheart?”

“Hm?”

“Call me Aaron.”

When you test it out, he’s sure of it; his name on your lips is his absolute favorite sound.

༄

thank you so much for reading!!! please please consider reblogging if you enjoyed, it helps a whole bunch more than you’d think and would mean a lot!! <3

[acotarxreader]

Flower

Azriel x Reader (Rhysands sister)

Synopsis: You and Azriel are sent deep into the mountains in search of a flower that may save Feyre's life during childbirth but quickly the frenemy status is put to the test as past trials come to a head leaving you to decide between your new sister and the potential love of your life.

Warnings: Fluff,, teasing angst, frenemies, physical fighting, mentions of wing damage/loss, blood, sweetness, silliness, Az calling the reader Kid.

A/N: You voted for it so here it is, my next Azriel fic. I enjoyed writing this, did it kinda quickly so forgive any mistakes and let me know what you think!

P.s I named Rhysand and Readers sister Aruna which means Moon in some languages.

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

“We’re lost Azriel”

“We’re not, you have no trust in me, this is basic Illyrian training” Azriel pushed an elongated branch from his path, releasing it thoughtlessly to smack you into the chest, a small yelp leaving you. 

“Fucking hell!” You swiped the pollen markings it left from your chest, knotting your face into a scowl towards the back of the Spymaster's head. 

“Next time duck” he called back, grin-laced words.

“Next time pick someone else to accompany you on your wild goose chases” Your boot sank into the uphill climb, the mud sinking its teeth into the well-worn leather as you fought with your lungs to keep breathing. 

“You were chosen for official Night Court duties by an official member of the Night Court government, have a little pride”

“An official Night Court prick more like” You muttered in reply to Azriel’s faux-inflated self-importance. Two days ago you had left Velaris, in pursuit of a special medicinal flower, Madja’s hope to save Feyre from the birth of her child. You had been hiking upwards for what felt like all 48 hours of your journey, your calves practically speaking to you now. 

“Do they not cover outdoor pursuit in your healer apprenticeship?” Another branch slapped into from the direction of the Spymaster.

“Do they not cover manners in Windhaven?” 

“You’ve known me for centuries, you know they don’t teach manners” He grinned, your sure footing overtaking his position as he held back a thicket of branches for you. You rolled your eyes as you passed him, missing his clear deception. Your foot snagged on a millennia old root system of an ancient tree, sending you finally downwards on your travel to bump along a forgotten path for a few seconds before another primeval tree stopped your course. Azriel shot with his usual agile step down after you. 

“I didn’t think you’d fly that far” He laughed down at you, your clothing covered in moss and mulch from your trip. 

“This is it, this is where you kill me. This was all a plot, all those centuries as the best pain in the ass culminating in this fake trip, Feyre isn’t even pregnant is she?!” You threw your arm across your forehead in fake dramatics, feining pain as he Azriel rolled his eyes before offering you a hand to pull you up. 

“I think if I was going to kill you, I’d have left Cassian to drown you that time we went swimming when we were 40”

“Ah, the last time I went swimming with you fools” You took his hand as he hauled you up, your muscles settling back into their place after their 360. You both continued your hike with some element of hurry but also with comfort.

“You used to love swimming with us and I mean c’mon I stopped him, no points for that?”

“You only stopped him because the death of Mor’s favourite cousin would have meant your certain death”

“I’m telling Rhysand you said that”

“Fine by me, he knows” You smirked before skipping along, hands behind your back in rested peace, your head gazing up through the canopy, the stars beginning to sparkle down over the moon-bathed forest. Azriel marvelled towards you, somewhat enamoured at the strong sense of peace radiating from his best friend's sister. You stretched above the sunken path towards a low-hanging branch, bright blush berries glowing in the scarce light. Your linen shifted slightly from your skin as you reached, revealing the troves of scars and chasms from the savagery of Spring's deepest betrayal of Azriel’s chosen family. You turned to him, a childlike grin as your cheeks filled with the lush fruit, a small laugh leaving Azriel as he gently shook his head. 

“Come here Kid, you’re all berry” He smiled, running the back of his sleeve down your cheek, banishing stray seeds until you pushed his arm away. 

“I’m like 10 years younger than you Gramps” 

“And I’ll always take care of you because of it” Soft tones of sincerity radiated from the Spymaster, his usual sarcasm towards you banished for a moment of truth. 

“Until you get old and frail and I send you to a retirement camp, you have about five good years left my friend” He shoved you back with a laugh, moment over. 

Another hour of so of what felt like aimless walking culminated in the both of you scaling prehistoric trees to settle in the canopy for rest, safe from the creatures roaming below in search of their next meal. 

Leaks of light snuck through the budding Spring flush of growth, crossing Azriel’s eyes until he stirred from his sleep. He sat up from his hammock, to look over to the adjacent tree to find your sling empty. 

“YN?” He yawned out, stretching as the branches creaked with the movement, your lack of reply had him calling out again. Azriel’s boots nearly split the soil on landing as he tried his best to keep his imagination from running away with his logic. He always woke up first and always had to haul you from your sleep, you were famously not a morning person. He called louder into the forest, listening back for any reply or clue as to where you’d run off to. He found his step quicken to match his heartbeat as he transversed great ground quickly. Light flashed around him as he found the edge of one of Illyria's many mountainous lakes, to see your silhouette floating in the centre of it. 

“YN!” He roared out, no response from you as his imagination very much took control. Without full consciousness, he tossed his over jacket to the ground, his heavy boots taking a spot next to it as he waded quickly into the silty lake, still calling for you. His feet could no longer touch the muddy bottom as he reached you in the centre of the still lake.

“YN!!!” A marred hand met your abdomen as the other found your lower back beneath the water, forcing your body up where you jolted out of your trance, thrashing water as you kicked your legs awake. 

“What the fuck you frightened me!” You pushed back from his hold, wrapping your arms around your waist, your snowy tank top clinging to your wet skin.

“You frightened me! What are you doing out here?” He pushed his wet hair from his face, allowing the colour to return to his face. 

“I was getting the moss and leaves out of my hair after yesterday’s little escapades, no need to lose your head” You shot back, before beginning to swim back to shore.

“I was calling for you! I thought something terrible happened to you!” Azriel allowed uncharacteristic anger to leech through his words as you both met the shore again. You turned your back to him as you wring out your hair, the drips of water creating mud in the dust. The soaked fabric clung to the fissures in your back where your wings once sat proudly, Azriel swallowed deeply at the sight, trying to keep the crime from inflating his anger further. You turned at his silence, noticing the path his eyes would have followed. 

“Something terrible already did happen Azriel” You bit, snatching your overshirt from the ground to shroud your scars, your shaking hands attempting to lock the buttons into place as the dots connected in Azriel’s head. 

“Is-is that why you don’t swim anymore? You don’t want people to see-to see what they did?” You looked up slowly through your eyelashes, hands on the final button before uprighting yourself completely. 

“The world should know what they did to me, what no amount of healer study I do can fix, what Tamlin’s fath- what that Court did to me, to my mother to my sister-” You bit out, the anger heating your skin seemingly drying the beads of water on your flesh “-and they will one day when Rhysand decides, when I am once again of use to my Court”

“YN, you’re of use now” he attempted to silence your inner voice escaping into the world, only to have you raise a palm. 

“To answer your question, no, that’s not why I don’t swim with you anymore, I don’t because Aruna loved it and the water feels wrong without our little sister-” Cold burning rage that Azriel was accustomed to seeing in Rhysand but never from you filled the space between you. 

“Now, let's go find that flower and go home, I’m not losing another sister” Azriel only nodded before leading the way back to the make-shift camp in contemplative silence. 

The next few hours carried that thematic silence through the woods, only the occasional check-in broke it up. You didn’t even comment when Azriel released multiple branches in your direction or when you definitely passed the same boulder twice. The soles of your shoes were leaving imprints on your feet but you stayed silent, refusing to give Azriel the satisfaction of being right when he told you to change your shoes. 

Azriel swung around to you on his heels as you released a blood-curdling scream from your exhausted lungs, a nearby bird fleeing the tree top at the raised alarm. His face lost any flush of colour as his eyes locked on the arrow piercing through your right thigh. He moved quickly to guide you to the floor as you screamed, blood spurting free from your flesh. In one swift movement, Azriel shielded you from another targeted arrow, it splicing one of the veins of his wings as he winced. 

“Azriel!” You cried, your shaking hand going towards the bloodied arrow. 

“Stay down!” He ordered, pulling some shrubbery over you as you crowed, his century-long training kicking into action as he launched in the direction of the ammunition. Tracking and trailing as fast as he could until he found the perpetrators, two members of the Hybern army armed to their teeth in weaponry. Azriel launched into swift movements, like a well-learned dance with vicious precision. 

Meanwhile, you snapped the long end of the arrow, leaving the cruel head with its teeth buried in your flesh. You pulled yourself up, desperate to follow the sounds of your best friend and his battle cry. Your hobbled step worked perfectly with your exhausted feet, sending you crashing for a second time this trip, down a bank to a stream. The welcomed thud of a great tree stopped you before you could enter the rushing water. You lifted your face from the squelch of the river clay, hazy eyes landing on a brilliantly blue flower, growing like a solitary soldier between ancient rocks. You groaned as you pushed up from the mud, your detour causing the head of the arrow to be pushed in further. You managed to snatch the lifeline from its home, tucking it into your pack before beginning your laboured ascent up the steep bank. The definition of an uphill battle as you fought against the overgrowth, using deep root systems like rescue ropes until you reached the mouth of the bank again. Your faltering step carried you in the direction of the Spymaster, who was deep in his own entanglement. You watched as Azriel slashed the leg of one soldier before pressing the other into a knotty tree trunk, his blood soon covering Azriel as Truth Teller dealt its fatal blow. 

“Azriel!” You shrieked in warning as the other soldier regained some strength, just as Azriel turned to your voice, a green-soaked blade slid into the Shadowsinger’s wing releasing pressurised blood systems.  The advantage didn’t last very long before Truth Teller claimed another victim, the soldier slumping to the ground with a final breath. Azriel stumbled backwards, his adrenaline fleeting until the support of a large oak met his back, allowing him to slide to the cool ground. 

“Az!” You yelped, limping to collapse next to his side, pallor growing across his face. You ran a hand over the wound, bright scarlet mixing with the sickly poison of a blade. 

“I told, I told you to stay” He spoke with gritted teeth, attempting to sit more upright against the tree. 

“You know I try my best to never listen to you” You smiled weakly, tears beginning to threaten the rim of your eyes as Azriel’s head dipped to fall on his chest. You moved quickly to prop his head up, his eyelids like lead as the poison worked through his system.

“We have to get you help, we have to get back”

“I-I can’t winn-ow both of-of us” Huffs of air left Azriel.

“Winnow yourself, I’ll figure it out” He lifted a heavy eyelid open, looking down to find your wound weeping fresh blood, swirling into his own. 

“The-re there could be mor-more of them out here YN, you-you have to be the one to-to go” 

“No!” You began digging through your pack, pouring the canteen of drinking water you had over his wound, trying to flush as much of the sick serum out as you could. The cobalt shimmer of the flower caught your eye again as you dug through for more water, looking from its bright colour to the dullness in your best friend. You began mashing it up into the lid of the canteen, its healing powers flowing into the water as you shook the two lifelines together. 

“YN you-you found it”

“I did Az and you’re going to drink it” He pushed away slightly from you. 

“Its-its for Feyre, get it to Feyre”

“I’ll figure that out, you need it Az” You held the lid of the canteen to his lips, Azriel turning his head from it despite his screaming nerves calling out for its relief. 

“Kid, it’s too-too valuable, give it to Feyre”

“You’re too valuable Az! I’m not losing you too, for once in your Godsdamn life don’t fight me! Let me look after you for once!” You grabbed the nape of his neck, tilting his head back to help the liquid into his mouth despite his futile protests. The sacred serum swirled through his system, like a torch in a blackout, defending off the tar-like liquid that tried to clog his system. You took your overshirt from your skin, ripping the clean sections free to soak in the remaining drips in the lid before applying it to the wound. 

“No YN, use-use it on yourself” He tried his best to push your arm away, unable to find the strength to allow you to make contact with the tattered spine. Unbeknownst to you, in your adrenaline-fueled state, your trousers were becoming laden with the blood spurting from your wounds. You sat back on your ankles, two Azriels dancing in your double-vision. You forced your eyes close, trying to banish one of the Azriels away, the swirl of blood loss becoming a bit too much as you fell back on your side, using a weakened arm to prop yourself up. 

“YN! You’re okay Kid! You’re gonna be okay, stay awake” Azriel turned himself onto his knees, his strength finding its way back to him as his hands met the soft skin of your cheeks, blood leaving them to rush towards your open wound. 

“I knew you’d be the death of me” You gave a weak laugh, your head rocking slightly from side to side. Azriel gave a small smile before closing the space between you, his medicinal-soaked lips meeting your frosted ones. Pulses of energy beat between you both, like everything that has ever happened both good and bad didn’t matter before this moment, each other’s lifeline in every sense. The traces of the river flower pulled you back from the brink with the essence of Azriel’s every being guiding you home. Shadows leapt around you both, pulling you both through the space until cool, clean stone laid under your legs. Azriel pulled back from you, his thumbs tracing over your cheeks as your eyes fluttered open. 

“Are you kissing my sister?” Rhysand stood from his desk to look down at his closest allies, in a ball on his office floor. Cassian leapt to help you up, lying you down on the chaise before Rhysand went to pull Azriel to his own feet. 

“It-it was to save her life” Azriel had thoughts of wishing the arrow had finished him off. 

“Likely story” Rhysand laughed, guiding his dear friend to his desk chair before sending for Madja. Cassian busied inspecting your battle wounds.

“We were attacked and-and they poisoned me and YN she-”

“-she gave you the flower?” Rhysand sank to Azriels eyelevel, searching for answers in the stormy eyes of the Spymaster. Azriel nodded gently, his head hanging in both shame and exhaustion. 

“It's okay Azriel, I wanted it for my mate, YN wanted it for hers” Azriel’s head shot back up to look at the High Lord's grinning face. Rhysand raised his hand to his face, making a locking motion at his lips before standing again, Madja quick on the scene to help. 

—-------------------

5 years later 

Azriel stood at the water's edge, the small lapping of the lake at his feet, the sun warming his wings as he stretched in the healing heat, a small V-shaped scar left in one of the spines. He allowed his eyes to fall close, inhaling the scents of the forest and the whoosh of the gentle breeze. 

“Argh!” He flinched at the sudden wave of cold water meeting his face, rubbing it from his eyes until he opened to see you stood, waist-deep in the lake and laughing. 

“You’re dead” He laughed before wading in as you roared with laughter, attempting to swim away from him to your friends. You took Nyx from Cassian’s arms as Azriel reached you. 

“I have the baby!” You laughed. 

“Oh weak move YN, hiding behind a child” He tilted his head back in laughter, Nyx kicking water up at his uncle, his own fit of giggles leaving him. 

“Not you too Kid! Betrayal!” Azriel chuckled, wiping the water from his face that Nyx quickly replaced again. You hugged Nyx close into your chest, Azriel paddling closer to you, his arms wrapping around the both of you, his hands tracing down the scars on your back, melting into the deep fissures on his hands, making the skin feel whole again. 

“Hey Az! Someone’s awake!” Rhysand called from the shoreline before bending down to the travel cot, pulling your baby from her cocoon, still swaddled in plush towelling. Cassian took Nyx from your arms before tossing him high in the air, Feyre immediately lecturing him. You and Azriel went laughing to the shore again, stray splashes escaping you both. Azriel took the baby from his brother's arms, kissing her head softly as she looked up at him, his entire world. 

“Hello Flower” 

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

Whatcha think?

ALSO! There are over 500 of you lovelies!!?? That's so crazy!!! Thank you so much for all of your kind words and support my friends! -C

[cvntluver444]

7 mins in heaven w ellie😇😇😇😇

thank you so much for your request and your support love!! <3

✞ 7 minutes ✞

✿ summary : the request!

✿ warnings : smut minors/men (boys) dni, puss rubbing, dirtyy talk, shy reader, sweet ellie, ellie teaching reader, reader is in closest!!!!!!, mentions of reader in str@ight relationship, almost getting caught!, if i missed any lmk pls!

✿ a/n : thank you for supporting my works as always! this is not my best work bc i used all my creative brain juice on my last fic so i am so sorry! unfortunately, i am headed back to school this weekend so my writing is going to slow down, but i'm not stopping don't worry babies. im hoping to put out 2-3 fics a week still!!!! keep sending in those requests! I have one more to work on, so to the anon who requested it its coming i promise my love!!!!

ALSO i did kind of make this a personal fic im so sorry LMAO basically i just explain how when i finally realized i was gay YAYAYA !!!!!!! but yeah warning again the reader in this is based on me so it is like finding out you're into girls later on kind of thing so if this is something you're not interested in feel free to skip! I hope you like it lucy!!! (idk if that's your real name im just going to call u that teehee) i love you all so much! muah

✿ as always, please remember to keep spreading information on and support Palestine!!

daily click

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

you anxiously played with your fingers as the last of the party guest gathered around the huge circle. your friends and you decided to spend your saturday night at one of your classmates party, resulting in you now dreading your turn in the 'truth or dare' game.

"you okay?" you turn your head to your left as your eyes land on your friend, who clearly could pick up on how nervous you looked.

"yeah i'm fine," you tell her. "just hope i don't have to do anything stupid or embarrassing. she laughs at your comment.

"don't worry, i doubt you'll even get picked. there's a lot of people here and were all drunk so, who cares!'. her shouts fills the room, drawing a couple eyes toward the two of you. you giggle and hide your face, trying to tell her to keep it down. in the midst of shushing her, your eyes graze the room, watching people roll their eyes at her behavior. but your eyes catch someone else's and you freeze.

ellie williams

she sends you a soft smile, a dark look in her eyes. you gulp and look away quickly. god, she was so hot you thought. you hope she couldn't how flustered she made you. you hope no one could. your whole life, you've always had no problems catching boys' attention. you could have a whoever, whenever, but with this luxury came its flaw. you never actually liked the boys you went out with, you just loved being loved, being in a relationship. you never understood why you felt that way, but just continued on normally, not giving yourself a chance to actually explore more about yourself. but when you first met ellie freshmen year, the feelings finally became visible, especially after finding out she was also into girls; however, you were still not sure if she felt the same. This caused you to once again burry your feelings and close yourself up. You were too scared, and way too sober to even try to talk to ellie.

suddenly, a loud voice can be heard yelling throughout the house. "truth or dare starting now in living room," on boy shouted. your palms became sweaty and you prayed that everyone would pick up on your uncomfortableness and just leave you alone. as always though, the world likes to work in funny ways, and you feel a large presence sit next to you and tap you on the shoulder.

"hey," the boy smiles, "cool if i sit here?" you just give me a simple nod of your head and continue your attention elsewhere, your thoughts interrupted once again. "you look good tonight, by the way". you turn back around, and give him a quiet thanks, and before he could respond, everyone around you begins to pick who will go first for the game.

after three or four people went, you began to grow annoyed. the man next to you could not take the hint, and you were the only person here not having a good time.

"alright williams," the room cheers silently, "truth or dare". your attention is now fully on ellie. she stares up at her friend who just picked on her, small smirk on her face as she answers with a confident dare. "hmmm," her friend hums out loud, looking around the room. you swear you see their eyes stop on yours for a second, before they get an idea. "i dare you to do 7 minutes in heaven," they pause and the room is filled with oooo's. your heart drops a bit. "a person of your choosing." now everyone was going crazy. everyone knew ellie was gay, and everyone knew she made every girl gay, so it was a pretty heavy dare.

ellie smiles up at her friend, sage you think their name is, before she slowly starts scanning the room. you quickly look down, hoping that your avoided eye contact would make you more invisible. your only focus now was watching your fidgeting fingers and giving back half asses answers to the man beside you who still will not shut up.

you hear ellie suck in her breathe before she slowly gets up from the ground. all you wanted to do in this moment was sink into the ground, not sure how you were going to handle seeing ellie pick another girl that isn't you and go fuck her in the closet. too deep in your thoughts, you don't hear the air leave your friends lungs as a certain someone stalks towards you. you only know ellie is right in front of you once you see the beat up sneakers sneak right under your vision.

your eyes widen and you cant breathe. there has to be someone behind you right? no, she could not pick you. in fear that you would be disappointed when looking up, you keep your head down, telling yourself that you're just-

your friend next to you quietly says your name, excitement laced in her voice. she was the only one you told, the only one you could trust with something so personal to you, so to say she was absolutely ecstatic to see ellie pick her best friend, well that was an understatement.

after your quick reality check, your line of vision trails from the top of her feet, all the way to her line of vision, where you see hear towering over you, smirk on her face. you felt like you were going to throw up.

"wanna come with me?" she asks you, that little smile never leaving her face. you look around the room, everyone in just as much shock as you. you look back at ellie, and without thinking twice, you nod your head yes.

she grabs her hand out for you to take, and you two make your way into the closet in between the living room and kitchen, but not before ellie yells something along the lines of keep yourselves busy, and don't be pervs. you feel like you're dreaming, you can't believe ellie williams picked you. but suddenly, you're brought back into reality when she closes the closet and turns on her phone flashlight.

"so," she begins, "how's your night been." you now grow extremely insecure at how little you've been talking to her, not knowing exactly what to do next considering you've never been with a girl.

"oh uh," you begin, "it's been okay. what about yours?" stupid stupid stupid.

"pretty good. saw that guy talking to you. you looked uncomfortable so thought i would save you." she gives a light giggle, but your heart drops and you look at her with sad eyes.

"oh uh yeah haha thanks," you attempt to say, sadness clearly laced in your voice. ellie picks up on it.

"are you okay? did he do anything?" she asks you, coming closer, concern reading all over her face. you blush at how much she cares about you.

"no, no, he didn't do anything, just was annoying," you let out a breathy laugh. "i guess i just thought that we were gonna, ya know, since you picked me, um, never mind this is stupid." your cheeks are now red with embarrassment, and ellies face softens at your rambling.

"aw, no sweetie. just because i picked you doesn't mean we have to do anything. i know you're not into girls." she gives you a friendly tap on the shoulder. ouch. your heart has now sank completely, and you slowly go to reach for the closet door handle. ellie looks confused, before she panics and grabs your hand.

"where are you going? it hasnt been 7 minutes yet sweetheart," she asks you.

"i was just gonna go back. kinda boring just doing nothing here." you tell her sadly.

"well, what do you want to do?" she still hasn't caught on? at this point, you feel like you will never get another chance again. with your ego still a little boosted that she chose you, you answer her.

"i wanna kiss you, ellie," you tell her. she freezes in the spot she's in before she slowly relaxes and relief washes over her face.

"i wanna kiss you too." she tells you. you look up at her, hope in your eyes, and she slowly grabs yours chin with her fingers and pulls you towards her. your lips meet and you both slowly start to make out. now you know why it was called 7 minutes in heaven. pleasure rushed through your body, and you instantly melted into the kiss. it was the first time you actually felt something when kissing someone, and in the bliss of this new feeling, you now put your arms around her shoulders.

the kiss deepens and turns more sinful as ellies hands now trail down to your ass and give it a light squeeze. you moan into her mouth and she groans back in response. her hands now start exploring your body, covering every inch of you until they make their way down towards your loose jeans. you quickly pull away, feeling like a complete virgin even though this kind of stuff is nothing new to you.

"woah, hey, you okay? we can stop if you want," ellie tells you, scared that she may have gone too far.

"no ellie its not you, its just," you try to find the right words. "i've never actually been with a girl before." you tell her, shame written all over your features. she lightly grabs your face once more as she gives you another passionate kiss.

"im happy to help you through it, and if you ever want me to stop, you just tell me." she explains, leaving light kisses all over you exposed next and chest. you moan out as you give her your permission to continue. her lips find her way back to yours, taking control of the kiss. in between each breath, she made sure to tell you how beautiful you were, and how much she had been dreaming of this. you return the compliments, gasping when ellie now picks you up and leans you down on the closet floor.

now on top, she puts all her weight on her elbow, as the other one trails down from your chest, then your stomach, to finally the place where you needed her the most. still kissing you, her fingers undo your buttons. once your jeans were shoved down, and your panties moved to the side, ellie breaks the kiss.

you whine from the loss of contact, and she shushes you. "is it ok if i touch you?" she asks you politely.

"yes, ellie. please touch me," you beg her. "want you so bad." her lips suddenly reconnect with yours, and her fingers start rubbing light circles on your clit. you moan as she teases you, never feeling this way with any guy you've ever been with.

"you make the prettiest noises," she tells you, nipping at your lips. "fuck, and you're so wet too." her talking alone brings you even closer to your high, another new feeling.

you feel her fingers now trail down and tease your entrance, making the most sinful sound. she bites her lips, then starts pumping two fingers inside of you.

your eyes now roll to the back of your head and ellie falls to your side, the new position allowing her to finger you even faster. your head leans into her shoulder, and tears brim in your eyes from how good shes making you feel.

"faster, please," you beg, now staring into her eyes. the innocent look on your face causes her pussy the clench.

"yeah baby? you want me to go faster?" she teases you. "ill do anything for you beautiful." that was enough to send you over the edge, and you start to shake and she speeds up her motions.

"els" is all you can get out, but she knows exactly what you're trying to say, telling you to let go and cum all over her fingers.

and you're about to, until you hear yelling outside the closest door, and people are banging on your door, telling you seven minutes has passed.

you and ellie groan, and you're about to scream out of frustration, before ellies low voice cuts you off.

"i want you to get dressed and meet me outside my car, we can finish this at me." she tells you, a loving look on her face. you giggle and give her a quick peck, before jumping up and putting on your clothes.

you two come out of the closet, rushing towards the front door, completely ignoring all your friends and strangers random questions flying your way.

"where are they going?"

"are they holding hands?"

"do you think they did anything?"

"they so fucked."

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

✿ a/n: heh, they came out the closet. anyways, like i said, very personalized im sorry i hit my penjamin and im in my feels but i really hope you guys liked it! my requests are still open! love you all so much and don't forget to follow because i post frequently!! <3

[xxchaosjojoxx]

OP Men got hit by the truth-truth fruit

A/N: first time writing for Zoro and Killer and i hope you like it. Maybe they are a little ooc but why not owo. Enjoy. I added Zoro for @penkura and Killer for @sheerxfiction to cheer them up. (They always cheer me up with their writing <3)

Sure you could do better than this. You could enjoy the nice weather with your crewmates. Eating some delicious dishes, chilling on deck or even exploring a town when you get a chance to dock on an island. But no, you have to fight this random pirate crew who decides to try to rob you. They were no match for you or the rest of your crew. Every single one was capable enough to defend themself.

As you kicked the weapon away, the big man who sneaked up on you, was retreating. He yelled towards his crew to retreat as well. They jumped on their ship and departed. You could only let out a sigh. Finally you have peace again. As you were about to go back inside to grab a snack you heard some of your crewmates screaming out. You turned around just to see a giant shining orb flying towards you. You couldn’t even try to evade anymore, but that wasn’t necessary at all. As your teammate and long-time crush was standing in front of you, blocking the attack. The orb touched him and he fell on his knees, trying to catch some breath. You couldn’t help but scream his name.

Zoro

“Oh no, Zoro.” As you were about to stand beside him he stood up and looked at you. “Why do I have to fall for a clumsy idiot like you?” He huffed and you couldn’t help but blink. “What? Do I have something on my face?”

You shocked your head and as Zoro heard the laughter of his crew he looked at them with an angry expression. “What’s so funny?”

Lysop and Luffy couldn’t help but laugh louder. Even the rest were smiling. “You just confessed your feelings towards y/n.”

Zoro's face went bright red. “No way…”

You were shyly looking at the ground. “Did you lie back there? And why did you even say it in the first place?”

He looked at you and was shouting. “Why should I lie? Is it so hard to believe that I am capable of loving someone?” He quickly covered his mouth and was sweating by now.

You couldn’t help but look at him with wide eyes. “I didn’t even mean to say it. Chopper help.” Your crewmates were basically rolling over the floor while laughing out loud, except Robin and Chopper. Even Sanji couldn’t help it. “Seems like a devil fruit power…”

Chopper hummed. “I’m not sure if I can do anything about it.”

Robin was still smiling. “Seems like you have to wait til the effect wears off. In the meantime we can ask you some questions, just for fun.”

The day went on as your crewmates asked Zoro all the questions they could think of. Zoro on the other hand tried to hide and fight them off. He wanted to sleep and be alone, especially after he confessed his feelings for you like this. But there was no escape. This crew is way too persistent. “What do you think about Sanji’s Dishes?” - “They are the best things I’ve ever eaten.”

“Do you really hate Sanji?” - “I’m not so sure. But I admit that he is loyal and capable.”

“What color are your underwear?” -” They are mostly black. But I’ve found one with a cute puppy on the backside.”

They just had way too much fun and later on he could retreat towards the crows nest, resting and being alone for once. This was until you climbed up and were sitting beside him.

You smiled at him as you decided to sit down. Zoro broke the silence by looking at you while speaking. “I’m wondering, why don’t you ask me anything? I’m sure you have a lot of questions.”

You looked at him, fiddling with your hands. “I have but, I don’t wanna hear them like that. It wouldn’t be fair.”

“If you wait until the effect wears off, there might be a chance that I will lie to you.”

You nodded. “You will tell me the things when the time is right. I’m sure of it. Plus I’m pretty sure, telling me like that wasn't the best way, right?”

Zoro smiled at you, and your face felt warm. “You’re right. That’s why I like you, I suppose.”

Law

“Law, NO!” You kneeled beside him and tried to support him. “Why didn’t you use your shambles?”

He locked at you with an annoying look on his face.

“Because I was stupid. I can’t think straight when it comes to you.” He blurted out and covered his mouth with his tattooed hands. You tilted your head in confusion, like the rest of your crewmates. “W-Wha...What? Why do you say something like this?”

He tried to shut his mouth, but it was no use. “Isn’t it obvious? It means I like you.”

Again he tried to cover his mouth. He stood up and ran inside the Polar Tang, leaving your crewmates and especially you speechless. Did he just confess his feelings towards you?

“What just happened?” Penguin asked and you could hear them mumbling and rambling, until you heard Jean Bart talking. “I heard of it. This might be the power of the truth-truth-fruit. Everyone who got hit by it, needs to be absolutely honest for the next 48 hours.”

“So we just need to wait 48 hours? Doesn’t seem like a useful ability, I mean that even won’t harm people.” Shachi said with a grin but Hakugan shook his head. “I wouldn’t say it like that. Being absolutely honest, could harm people. Captain is not in the right mind to lie but he can’t stop himself from speaking as well.”

Ikkaku nodded. “Hearing the truth is not always the best. It might be pretty hurtful to hear some things. Plus it can create chaos, as you can see.” She said and was looking towards you.

As time passed, Penguin, Shachi and Bepo tried talking to Captain. But he was shutting himself inside his room. Telling them to “shut up for once, you guys annoy me sometimes” even so he didn’t mean it that way. He knew what was wrong, they told him. And he also knew that they tried to comfort him. “Please just leave me alone. I can’t control myself right now. I don’t wanna say things that might hurt you. Please leave me be at least til the effect wears off.”

“Especially Y/N?” Penguin asks and he could hear law groaning on the other side of the room. “I’d love to see her.”

“So that’s a ‘Yes, Y/N shouldn’t be near me for the next 2 days’, got it captain.”

Shachi said with a little laugh.

Of course you knew it would be better to leave him alone, but you wanted to know if he really was honest with you back there. Did he really like you? Like more than a friend perhaps? You need to know and you were sneaking towards his room. With a gentle knock on his door, you got his attention. “If that’s food, you can leave it here. I’m not that hungry right now.”

“It’s me, captain.” - “Y/N I am happy to hear your voice, but I thought we said, no visits.”

You gulped. “Yeah but I need to confirm something.”

“And what is it?”

“Do you really like me?”

It was silent for a second. “To be honest, I love you.”

You felt a blush on your cheeks. “W-Why didn’t you say so sooner?”

“Because I’m afraid that I might lose you, if I show you how I really feel. No matter if you reciprocate my feelings or not. I already lost way too many people I love.”

“Would it change anything If I would say that I love you too?”

“Y/N, leave please otherwise I can’t control myself.”

“You don’t have to be afraid. I will stand by your side and protect you no matter what.”

“That’s not the problem.”

Before you could ask him what he means by that, he shambled you right in his arms. Hugging you tightly. “If you really love me as well, how can I ever let you go?”

“L-Law” you said while stuttering. “You don’t mean it like that…right?”

He looked at me with his golden eyes and smiled softly. “I could never lie to you. Especially not now. And I really wanna kiss you right now.”

Penguin

“Penguin, hey. Why did you do something stupid like that?”

You shaked his shoulders. Suddenly Penguin was looking at you and smiled. “Because I am stupidly in love with you.”

“There’s no time for jokes. You could’ve died.”

“I will die without your love.” You blinked a few times.

“Are you nuts or did you hit your head?”

“I’m completely honest there. I can’t stop it.”

While you two were arguing back and forth, Law was scanning him. “Seems like he is right. Hey Penguin, did you steal Shachi’s sandwich last night?”

Law knew Penguin did it, and this was the fastest way to confirm that he got hit by a devil fruit ability.

Shachi asked him this morning and he denied it.

“Yeah and it was the best sandwich he ever made.”

Shachi went over to him and punched him on the head. “I KNEW IT!”

“What’s going on here, Law?” You asked and Law smirked. “Seems like Penguin can’t help but tell the truth. I could try to remove this effect, but I am sure it will only last for a few hours anyways. Plus I might be interested in hearing some truthful answers. Like what happened a few months ago in the surgery room.”

He glared at Shachi and Penguin. “Like we said, captain. Nothing.” Penguin tried to speak but Shachi covered his mouth. They fought for a few minutes, til Penguin could speak freely. “We played hide & seek. And we bribed Bepo with ice cream so he wouldn’t tell you.”

Let’s say the following minutes were pretty interesting, while Shachi and Penguin got enough lectures for a whole month.

When dinner was ready you were looking at Penguin. “Say Penguin… are you really in love with me?” You had a blush on your face and even Penguin couldn’t help but blush.

“Of course I am. It’s so hard not to fall in love with you. You are so pretty and funny and I wanna shower you with all the love and praise that I could ever get you, but I want someone to punch me so hard, so I could be knocked out. I feel pretty embarrassed now to be honest. If you keep looking at me like that, I have to jump on the desk and kiss you.”

You couldn’t help but stare at him in disbelief. Your face felt hot and you couldn't comprehend everything he said. “Cringe, dude.” Shachi said and smacked him.

“Thanks Shach.” Penguin sighed while the rest of your crew snickered.

He was looking at him directly and you could see his eyes clearly. “Is it ok for you, if I jump on the desk to kiss you?” He asked and waited for an answer. The moment you nodded and he was about to jump, Law was kicking him mid air. “First of all, we want to eat in peace and not seeing you two lovebirds. Second, don’t jump and stand on a desk.” You rushed over to him and gently touched his head. “I guess you knocked him out for good, captain.” You said and were glad that he returns your feelings. And maybe you can ask him on a date whenever he wakes up again.

Killer

“Killer. Is everything ok?” He turned his head towards you and nodded while standing up. “Yeah, despite the fact I need to shit.”

It was silent for a while. “What?” you asked in disbelief. “I ate too much of this chili and now I need to shit. I wanted to go earlier but then these idiots attacked us.”

You blinked. Your captain Kid was the one who broke this weird atmosphere. “Haha Killer. Did you finally realize saying everything out loud is the best way?”

Killer looked at him. “It’s not, but I was just answering y/n question.”

Kid groaned at him. “You’re not fun at all.”

You touched his arms. “Are you really ok? You seem different right now?”

He gently held your hand and you couldn’t help but blush.

“I’m glad that I was able to protect you.”

You gulped. You were pretty sure that something was different so you decided to ask him once more.

“Why did you protect me in the first place?”

Killer tilted his head, while caressing your hand with his thumb.

“Why shouldn’t I protect the person I adore?”

“YOu … adore me?”

He nodded. "Yeah, of course." I tried many times to approach you, but I guess I was too afraid.”

Kid was yelling. “The fuck is wrong with you? Can you stop this lovey-dovey shit? That’s disturbing.”

“The only thing that’s disturbing is the way you speak Eustass.” Killer said calmly and your crew was busy enough to hold back your captain, who was about to rage.

You couldn’t help but stare at your raging captain. The only things you could hear were words, you didn’t even know til now.

“I can’t stop answering with the truth it seems.”

Killer said with a calm tone as you looked at him again.

“While I’m in this state I should probably do it now. Say, y/n, would you be interested in going on a date with me the next time we dock on an island? I would love to treat you to a nice dinner and a walk afterwards.”

While Kid screamed and yelled things like “Are you fucking kidding me? I thought your name is ‘Killer’ not ‘Vanilla Boy’ you asshole” you nodded and smiled lightly at him. “I would love to, to be honest with you.”

“I’m glad.” He said and released your hand. “If you excuse me. I really need to use the bathroom and maybe let Kid punch me after this for once.”

[97linelover]

don´t treat me like a baby - Kim Mingyu

18+ / mdi

summary: Being the only Daughter in the Choi Family made you Precious. What if your Dad hires Kim Mingyu as your Bodyguard.

And what if you develop a huge crush on him?

content: Bodyguard Mingyu x Rich Reader, angst, fluff, love, fight, both are stupid and stubborn.

wc: 3.6 k

a/n: I saw this picture and I need to write a Bodyguard Gyu FF. I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I do.

You lived in a world where wealth was normal, where the rich people made fun of the poor, and where the poor did not have anything to say.

You hated this lifestyle; you worked as a volunteer in an orphanage; and you donated to many different things.  But carrying the name Choi was your biggest burden; everywhere you went, you were always the daughter of. 

You loved your family; they gave you everything they could, but sometimes you just wanted to be normal. 

"Y/N?" Your father's voice echoed through your office. "Yes, Dad?" You got up, your heels clicking against the marble floor. 

"I want you to meet someone," he said, opening the door, followed by an unknown man. You smiled politely. "Y/N, this is Kim Mingyu, Mingyu; this is my beautiful daughter." The man shook your hand. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Miss Choi," he said politely. 

"The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Kim," you answered while sitting back down. "So what owes me the pleasure?" You leaned your head on your hand. 

"Mr. Ko won't be guarding you anymore since his Wife just gave birth, so from now on he will be your bodyguard," your dad said with a stern voice. "He will have a spare bedroom in the house so that he is never that far away." You looked at the handsome guard and nodded. 

"Alright, when does he start?" You crossed your legs, and you saw how his gaze fell onto your legs. 

"Right now, I talked to him about the important things, and he is ready." Your dad nodded at him and left the room. 

"I will wait in front of your office, Ms. Choi," he said again. "Alright, I'll be meeting Deborah for dinner today at 8.". 

"Noted, I'll tell your driver." With that, he left the room.  You watched him, and you then sighed. 

This was also normal—a security guard following you everywhere you go. 

-

"Wait, so Mr. Sexy here is going to be by your side 24/7? Lucky you" Deborah groaned while taking a sip of her Martini. 

"Deb's, stop drooling over my guard," You playfully slapped her arm. "Let's talk about the upcoming collection for my store, please," you pouted. 

"Do you have any locations in mind for your store?" She asked while looking through the design folder, "No, not yet. I'm currently doing the men's collection, and I need to find the models." You sipped on your daiquiri. "Mingyu, are you hungry or thirsty?" Deborah asked him with a flirty smile. 

"Thank you, Ms. Johnson, but no, I already ate," he said, smiling and bowing. 

"God, he is too handsome," she muttered, and you rolled your eyes. "Back to business, please." 

You two discussed some things, and you got lost with the track of time. "Ms. Choi, it's past midnight; I think we should head back home; you need to be in the office pretty early." He kindly took the documents, and you got up. "Thank you." You smiled at him, but he remained unfazed. 

"I'll show you the room," you said to him, and he nodded, following you. He tried his best not to look at your body, but the way your hips were swinging and your legs were glowing made it harder than he thought. 

"You can make yourself feel at home; you can eat everything in the fridge, and you can use everything in this house," you said as you opened the door.  "I'm really thankful for you here," you smiled, "and I really hope you will call me Y/N from now on; we will spend too much time together." He chuckled slightly at that. 

"Alright, Y/N, goodnight," he said as he walked inside the room. "Goodnight, Mingyu," and with that, you walked away into your bedroom. 

-

The next two months were basically the same: you went to work, then out for dinner, and then back home.  Mingyu was always by your side, and you two could actually talk right now; he was actually pretty funny. 

But you knew why he was here, that this was work, and that he was just doing his work. During this time, you developed a little crush.  He was completely your type, and you wanted him, but for the sake of your sanity, you quickly discarded that thought. 

"Y/N, your next model cancelled," Mingyu said while walking into the studio where you were standing and looking at the photos. "What? No," you whined. "He was supposed to be my center," you groaned. 

"Mingyu," you gasped, and his eyes widened. "No," he said sternly, and you smirked. "Please, Gyuuu, no one will see them," you pouted. "I only need a vision," you pleaded. 

"Alright, but we will do it quick," he muttered, and you cheered. "Okay, undress yourself, Mr. Kim," you giggled, and he rolled his eyes. He took off his button up, and you watched every move he made. His tanned muscles, now on full display, were better than imagined. 

"Okay, now put this on." You helped him. Your finger tips were tracing along his skin. Mingyu looked away so that he did not need to look at you. "I think you could easily work as a model." You giggled, which made him chuckle. "You think so?" 

You tied a knot and nodded. "Freaking beautiful," you whispered, and he looked down at you. You both were so close, your lips nearly touching. You felt his hot, minty breath against your lips, and your eyes fluttered close. 

"So, um, should we take the pictures?" He pushed you away, and you let out a small whine. "Sorry," he whispered, and you blushed.

Kim Mingyu was the first man to deny your kiss. 

You quickly grabbed the camera and snapped some pictures, and this is no lie, but there was not a single failed shot; he was insanely beautiful. 

"Are we done?" He asked while scratching his neck, and you nodded. "Yes, sorry, you can change. I'll wait outside." You hurried out of the room and groaned.

Luckily for you, Mingyu did not utter a word about what had happened. 

Inside the car, your brother called you "Hey Cheol." You said happily, "Hi Y/N, I have some bad news.. dad and me can't make it to the store opening." You were not surprised.  "Oh, alright, I did not expect you two anyway," you muttered, and before your brother could say anything, you ended the call. 

You leaned your head against the window, and you felt some tears rolling down your cheek. "You don't need them for the opening, Y/N," Mingyu said softly. "No one will be there, Mingyu; I'm alone. I'm always alone," you sobbed. "I will be there," he whispered. "Because it's your job," you cried out. 

Mingyu could not say anything at that, and you scoffed slightly. You were alone. 

And when he parked the car, you rushed into your bedroom, just locking yourself inside the room.

And when the opening came, you were dressed in the most stunning dark red dress; your hair was perfectly made, and your skin was glowing. You looked like a dream come true, and Mingyu knew it as soon as you entered the building.

You had given him the day off, but he wanted to see you. He wanted to keep you company on this important day. He was standing in the corner, dressed in a black suit with a red tie that matched your dress. You had gifted him the tie when he began because you told him it was the perfect color for him. 

He hated ties, but for you, he wore them. 

And while you were standing on the stage, your body was illuminated by the lights. He felt like screaming; he felt like the world was yours. 

He wanted you, but he could not have you. 

When you spotted him in the crowd, your heart felt like it was bursting, and a smile appeared on your face. 

He smiled slightly, and when the crowd cheered for you, he walked through the hallway, finding an empty room where he could calm down for a second. He looked out  of the window when he heard the door open and then high heels. 

"I thought I gave you the day off." Your soft voice made him turn around. "I told you I would be there," he said, and you smiled. "You missed me already, huh?" You took some steps towards him, and he really tried to control himself. 

"I'm just a man that sticks to his word," he smirked, and your freshly manicured nails landed on his chest. 

"Well, that's right, Mr. Kim, always so good for me," you said seductively, and he bit his lip. You were dangerous; he knew it the moment he saw you in that office.

"Y/N," he breathed, and you wasted no time kissing him. The kiss escalated pretty quickly. He turned you both around, lifting you against the wall. A whimper escaped you, and he pushed his bulge against your core, kissing along your neck. "Oh god," you moaned, and all of a sudden he let you down. 

"Fuck," he whispered, and you looked confused at him. You were breathing heavily. "Mingyu," you said, taking his hand, and he quickly pulled it away. "This should not have happened, Y/N," he said while wiping his face. "Don't say that," you pleaded.

"Fuck Y/N, this was a freaking mistake," he groaned, and you felt the tears sting your eyes. "Don't say that; I felt the desperation in this kiss," You tried walking towards him. 

"Maybe you're delusional, Y/N, but this was nothing," he said, looking at you. His warm, brown eyes were dull. You laughed slightly. "Mingyu, don't say that." 

"God damn, Y/N, you're nothing like me; this is not okay. I'm working for you; fuck, I don't want you," he said, raising his voice. "You're lying, trying to push me away," you whispered. 

"You're a spoiled little girl; I'm straight from the bronx; while you powder your nose, I'm fighting for the right things; I could never want you," he said with so much honesty that you choked out a sob. 

"Don't say that; you know how I am," you pleaded. "You know that I'm not like them, Mingyu.". 

He shrugged. "This is bullshit; do you really think that I want you?" He took a deep breath. "I'm not interested in a pathetic little girl who needs a bodyguard." With that, you rushed past him. 

"From now on, you will only see me in the office, and when I'm leaving the house, I will no longer talk with you unless it's important or work-related. So please do me a favor; don't treat me like a fucking baby when I'm more of a woman than you'll ever have." With that, you rushed back down. 

The next morning, you were dressed in a beige suit, and the black high heels made Mingyu look up. "Ready to go?" he asked while taking the car keys.

You grabbed some fruits and walked straight past him. He opened the car, and you got inside, typing away on your phone. A giggle escaped you, and you felt him glancing over. "I need to go to the warehouse," you uttered, and he nodded. "But you have the appointment later.". 

"Yeah, I know," you said, looking back down at your phone. 

The next few weeks were horrific for Mingyu; you became another person—the person he claimed you were. 

You acted like a snob; you treated him like a fool, and Mingyu was tired of it; he felt like screaming at you. 

Tonight, he was relieved when you just walked into your bedroom; he knew he could just lay down and sleep some more. But when he heard the front door slam shut, he jumped up and ran down, seeing you drive away with your Mercedes. 

He groaned, hurriedly took some keys, and got inside the car. There was no way he was going to find you in Seoul, but he drove around either way. He called you a thousand times, but you never picked up. 

God damn, he was pissed. 

He then remembered that you gave him access to your location, so he opened his phone, seeing that you were out partying. 

Within 10 minutes, he was standing behind you and saying, "Mr. Sexy is here, and he's looking pissed." Deborah yelled over the music, and your eyes widened as she turned around. Mingyu was walking towards you. "Get in the car." He stated, his eyes dark. "No." You walked past him. "Y/N, I'm not kidding. Get in the car right now." His voice was deep, and you sighed. "Fuck you." You spat, and he chuckled. "If you don't want to be treated like a baby, don't act like one.". 

"You're a fucking asshole," you muttered, and you rushed out of the club with him behind you. You got in the car, locking the door and driving off. 

You could see him driving behind you, and you slammed your fist against the steering wheel. 

When you entered the house, Mingyu groaned, "Why the fuck did you leave?" He was furious, and you turned around. "I don't need a fucking babysitter, so go back to the room and leave me alone." You took your heels off, and he came dangerously close.

"Don't act like a spoiled brat, just because you can't handle my opinion," he said, lifting your chin. "I don't care about your stupid opinion, Mingyu," and you slapped his hand away. 

"You do, otherwise you would not act like this," he chuckled deeply. "But you know, this attitude of yours should be punished," his body pressed against yours. 

"Mingyu," you whispered, and he lifted you up. "You wanted this, right? You wanted to push me until I fucking gave in." The way he carried you with such ease made you dizzy.

"You don't get to treat me like a baby," you said while sighing. "Baby, I will treat you just right tonight." He opened the bedroom door and laid you down, his buff frame hovering over you. "Now open your pretty legs, baby," he rasped, and you quickly obeyed.

He pulled his shirt over his head, exposing his beautiful tan body, while he kissed your legs.  He wasted no time eating you out like a starved man; the way he circled his tongue around your swollen bud made you scream out in joy. 

He brought you over the edge once, and now his goal was a second; his fingers were pumping in and out of you. "Come on, baby, give me another one," he whispered while placing a kiss along your leg. 

"Mingyu god," you whimpered, and he smirked, feeling your legs shake. "Yes, there it is," His thumb circled around your nub, and your fists clawed into the bedding, feeling the second high of the night. 

You were breathing heavily, and he just smirked. "Are you able to take my cock?" he asked while getting up, and you nodded. "Please, Gyu," you pouted, and he chuckled. He took his pants off, and you were groaning at the sight in front of you. 

His dick was beautiful; it was standing tall and proud. Pre-cum was leaking from his shaft. "Condom?" he asked while pumping his dick a few times. "Oh yes, wait." You got up with shaky legs and wobbled into the bathroom, grabbing the box. 

Mingyu put it on and then hovered over you. When he glided into you, his eyes squeezed shut, and he groaned, "God, you feel so good.". 

He buried his head in the crook of your neck and placed some kisses there. He held you close while thrusting deep inside you. Your fingernails clawed into his back, and you were a whimpering mess. "I'm close," you moaned, and he felt you clench around him. 

"Me too, baby," His thrusts became sloppier. "Come on, baby, milk me dry," he groaned, and you kissed him. You kissed him through your orgasm, and it felt so good; no one ever made you feel like he did. 

He laid down next to you, and you closed your eyes. "You're actually so goodhow I imagined you to be," you whined, and he let out a laugh. "Wow, what a compliment!" He pulled you on to his chest, and you both fell asleep like that.

It was the best sleep you had for a long time, and when the morning came, you woke up with a smile on your face. You turned around when you saw that he was not there anymore. You got up, putting on your bathrobe. 

The walk to his room made you feel nervous, and you knew why, When you opened the door, Mingyu's stuff was gone; there was no trace of him. 

You laughed to yourself and got inside your room, getting ready for work. 

The way to your office was different; there was no Mingyu who made sure you were safe, no one who gave you some coffee and some fruit.  You knew he left because of what happened last night. 

"Y/N?" The voice of your brother snapped you out of your daze. 

"Cheollie," you smile while getting up, "what brings you here?" You grinned slightly, and he sighed. "Mr. Kim has quit, as you may have noticed; he said he could not work with you anymore, and he left immediately after."

Hearing the words made you realize how Mingyu must think about you—maybe he was right and maybe you were spoiled. Maybe, after all, you were unlovable. 

"Soonyoung will be back tomorrow," he said, and you nodded. "Will you excuse me for a moment, Cheol?" You looked down.

"What happened with him, Y/N?" He looked at you with concern written all over his face. "I fell in love with him, Cheol." You felt a single tear rolling down your cheek.

"Oh, Y/N," he sighed, and you tried to smile again. "It's alright, I know it; it's always the same; they use me, and then they dump me," you shrugged, and he pulled you close. "Mingyu seemed pretty shaken up when he left," Seungcheol muttered. 

"I don't care," you whispered, and he sighed. "You're so good, Y/N. Don't let this get to your head.". 

He kissed your head softly, and you nodded. 

Your brother truly was the best, but with him being away most of the time, your relationship suffered. 

With Soonyoung as your guard, you had one of your friends back by your side. Soonyoung was funny and cool to chill with. Mingyu had left over three weeks ago, and you started to forget about him. At least you tried. 

"Soonyoung, I'm going to run to the store real quick," you announced. "Wait, I'll join." He slipped on some shoes, and you walked down the street to grab some snacks. You were graving some hot sweet potatoes. 

"But you know what I meant, Soo," you giggled while running behind him, trying to catch him. "I know you love me, Y/N," he wiggled his eyebrows, and you laughed out. "You wish,"  you came to a halt. "Soo wait," you gulped when you saw him standing in front of your door. 

"HEY, WHAT DO YOU WANT?" Soonyoung yelled, and Mingyu lifted his hands. "I just want to talk with her," he said, and Soonyoung looked at you. "Is that him'?" You nodded and walked towards him. "Soo, will you let us alone for a moment?" He smiled softly at you and said, "Call me if you need me." He went inside the house, and you turned towards him. 

"What do you want?" You crossed your arms. "I wanna explain," he whispered, and you shrugged. "I don't wanna hear it, Mingyu; you made it clear." Mingyu's heart felt heavy. "Y/N, please let me explain." 

You took a step back. "Mingyu, we come from two different worlds; you made it pretty clear. I don't want you here right now. You think of me as a spoiled girl; fine, then I'll act like one.  You used me for your fun, and then you left," you chuckled. "Maybe I should've paid for that act, huh?" 

Mingyu grabbed your arm and pulled you close. "Can you maybe just shut the fuck up?" he whispered, and you looked at him. "I fell in love with you; I left because I fucking fell for you," he said, frustrated. 

"Your dad made it clear that if I touch you, he will talk bad about me; he will make sure that I'll never get another job. I knew the moment you laid in my arms fast asleep, I was fucked." You gasped at his words. "I quit because I thought that we could maybe then be happy," he whispered. "I needed to sort out some shit, and now I am here."

"You're shitting me, right?" You laughed out loud, and he shook his head. "I'm dead serious; I'm in love with you." He cupped your cheek. "So please let me love you." You smiled brightly at him and pulled him down so you could kiss him. Your lips moved in sync, and your heart felt like it would burst at any moment now. 

"Are you sure you want to spend time with a spoiled brat?" You asked, grinning, "More than sure, baby," and he kissed you again.

If you enjoyed it, leave a comment :)

[in-my-feels-probably]

Older Art spoiling his 20 something yo girlfriend that goes to Stanford. She looks up to him and listens to him and does whatever he says and basically lives for his praise.

I Feel So High School (Every Time I Look At You)

Request: Older Art spoiling his 20 something yo girlfriend that goes to Stanford. She looks up to him and listens to him and does whatever he says and basically lives for his praise.

and: art being 10ish years older than reader? that’s all i got. go crazy

Hi! Challengers has been on my mind literally since the day it came out, and I think I've read every single fic on here about it, so I figured I’d give it a shot writing one myself. First of all, I combined your requests, hope that’s ok. Second, this is my first time writing for Art, so please bear with me while I try and get the hang of writing his character. I haven’t written a fic in weeks, so my skills are definitely a little rusty. Please be kind! Anyways, I hope you like this. Let me know what you think, and thank you for the request :)

(Warnings: none? idk, maybe very vague mentions of sex, art is divorced, swearing, i guess the age gap taboo. let me know if i missed anything)

—

You should have known trying to explain your situation with Art to someone else would’ve been difficult, but finally telling your roommate everything was just as humiliating as you thought it would be. She always had a knack for nosing her way into your business, and not even you were immune to her federal level detective skills when it came to getting information out of someone. 

“And I’m seeing him today,” you finished your rant as you sucked in a breath, wincing as you waited for the bomb to drop.

But it didn’t. Your roommate just grinned, standing up and walking over to your closet. You watched with a confused look on your face until she turned to you, already elbow deep in your clothes.

“So…you have a sugar daddy?” your roommate asked, trying to stifle a laugh as she rifled through your closet to help you find an outfit. “No judgment, I’m honestly jealous.”

You picked a pillow up off your bed, launching it at her when she smirked as you flushed. “I don’t have a sugar daddy! I have a…well—ok, I don’t know what we are. But he’s not my sugar daddy.”

“No, he’s just an ex pro tennis player with a famous ex wife who was also a pro tennis player that he had a perfect little girl with, complete with a house in the Hamptons. Now, he’s…what, exactly? A coach? A commentator? Part of Stanford’s glorified alumni? No, I’ve got it! I know what he is — hot. In a beekeeping age, recently divorced, kind of way.”

You rolled your eyes, standing up to help her look through your closet. “He’s only in his thirties. You’re making him sound archaic and washed up.”

“Look at you, gushing over him,” she grinned as she finally landed on something for you to wear, quickly handing it to you. “At least he has good taste. You’re hot, too.”

Your roommate turned around while you quickly changed, sitting down at the foot of your bed. She talked over her shoulder as you got dressed, her voice full of curiosity.

“So, how did this all happen anyway?”

You sighed, shaking your head. “Remember alumni week with all the guest lectures and presentations a few months ago?”

“You met Art Donaldson during alumni week? What the fuck! Why didn’t you tell me? I wouldn’t have skipped all my classes that week if I thought I was gonna pick up a trophy husband instead of being forced to sit through a mind-numbingly boring presentation from some guy who used to go here that I’ve never heard of.”

“Sucks to suck, babe,” you grinned, finished getting dressed. “I’m good, you can turn around now.”

She quickly turned around, patting the spot on the bed next to her.

“How did this even happen? I’ve never seen you step foot on a tennis court in your life, and I know they wouldn’t have asked him to speak in a graduate lecture.”

You sat down next to her, nodding. “He did a seminar down at the courts for the kinesiology majors or something like that. They were learning about sports related injuries and how to treat them. He told them about how he hurt his shoulder a few years ago during a match, and he talked about all the physical therapy he had to do.”

“You’re telling me you sat through a kinesiology lecture? On a tennis court? When you don’t even study kinesiology?”

“Absolutely not,” you laughed, leaning back against the headboard. “He told me about it that first week while he was here.”

Your roommate giggled, grabbing your hand and squeezing it. “Oh my god! Okay, okay. Spill. Now. I want to know everything.”

You playfully rolled your eyes, but started ranting again anyway. 

—

In truth, you didn’t really know what your relationship with Art was. You’d met when returning alumni who’d gone on to excel in their fields came to campus for guest lectures and demonstrations.

In a total mortifying cliche, you ran into Art in a hallway while you were rushing to a lecture that had already started ten minutes earlier. You would have been on time, but your roommate accidentally locked herself out of your dorm, and the RA wasn’t answering their phone. She had an exam she needed to get to, which—in her own words—“trumps your boring book lecture.” You had no choice but to turn around and save her, making the trek back across campus to let her in. That’s how you ended up running face first into Art, your bag and all your things scattering across the floor. By some miracle, at least the halls were empty.

You quickly kneeled, scrambling to pick up all your things. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going. I’m late for class.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, kneeling to help you.

It was then when you looked up, and you felt your heart jump into your throat. Art Donaldson—famous alumni and world renowned tennis player—was crouched right in front of you, handing you half empty tubes of chapstick, a pair of headphones, and a stray pack of gum. Oh god, you thought to yourself. Why me? Why today? You quickly cleared your throat, standing up.

“God, sorry. Thanks…Mr. Donaldson.”

You cringed as you said it, the title of Mr. feeling off as it rolled off your tongue.

“Mr. Donaldson?” he raised a brow, shaking his head. “No, just call me Art. Uh, you know who I am? Am I actually still recognizable here? I figured no one off of the courts would have any idea who I was.”

You glanced down at his shirt, pointing. “You’re wearing a name tag.”

Art paled, raising a hand to awkwardly scratch at the back of his neck. Good one, he thought to himself. Very humble. He cringed to himself as his cheeks flushed, a small smile on his face.

“Right. I knew that.”

You smiled, pulling your bag back over your shoulder as you let out a little chuckle. “I know who you are. Stanford never lets us forget about their prized students.”

“Ah,” he nodded, grinning. “In my day, it was Reese Witherspoon and Jennifer Connelly. Although, Reese dropped out halfway through her degree, so they don’t talk about her much—”

“And Jennifer left Yale to come study here,” you finished. “That’s one they do still brag about.”

Art smiled, leaning back against the wall as he looked at you. You suddenly became very aware of your situation, tearing your eyes away from him to look down the hall where your class was. Art’s eyes followed, and he straightened up, clearing his throat.

“Am I keeping you?”

“No!” you said all too quickly, biting your tongue for a second before you forced yourself to calm down and continue. “Uh, my class already started. It’s not really important, he doesn’t count attendance anyway. And, to be honest, he’s pretty dull. He managed to make Jane Austen boring.”

“Not Bazin’s class, is it?” Art asked, making you raise a brow.

“Yeah, it is. How’d you know that?”

Art smiled, letting out a little laugh. “That’s why I came this way, I wanted to see if Professor Bazin still taught English here. He was a dinosaur even when I graduated. I’m surprised they still let him teach.”

“If they actually read the end of term course evaluations they make us fill out, they wouldn’t,” you mused, making Art grin wider.

“I guess I should let you go then,” Art shrugged, glancing down the hall. “Wouldn’t want you to miss out on something you could use in your scathing evaluation.”

You glanced back down the hallway at your classroom, but you couldn’t get your feet to move. You weren’t sure why, but you didn’t want to go just yet. 

All you did at Stanford was go to and from class and stay on top of your studies. It was monotonous and boring, and you were always up to your neck in papers and projects. Other than your roommate, you hardly had any people left you talked to or hung out with. They all graduated with their undergrad degrees, and you moved on to your graduate studies. Your education was important to you, but it got lonely. You almost never took risks anymore. But as you glanced back at him, that’s what you did.

You took the risk.

“Or…you could save me from my misery?” you stuttered out, an awkward smile on your face.

Art looked at you with an amused expression, tilting his head as he waited for you to continue. You swallowed, fiddling with the strap of your bag.

“My classes are almost all entirely in this building. I’m sure you’re sick of talking about tennis, but between here and my dorm, I don’t think I see enough sunlight in a day to keep me going. Maybe you could walk with me somewhere that actually sees the sun? Doesn’t have to be the courts or anything, although I can say with full confidence that I’ve never actually seen that part of campus and I’m in my graduate studies. Uh, maybe you’ve got somewhere in mind? Or you could let me buy you a cup of shitty cafeteria coffee? I promise I’ll refrain from asking you about your career. But, as I’m sure you can tell just by looking at me, I don’t really know enough about tennis to ask anyway.”

As you rambled on, horrified by your own rambling but determined to put yourself out there, Art smiled. 

He’d met a lot of girls over the years. Some girls who had a genuine interest in him but didn’t last, and some who saw his fame and fortune as a one way ticket to an easy life. 

None of them mattered. 

He had married Tashi, head over heels from the first moment he saw her. He had a kid with her, a career with her, a seemingly picture perfect life with her. It didn’t even occur to him to look at other girls until his marriage started to strain under the weight of his career, and he’d almost forgotten what it was like to look at a girl for the first time and feel that sickening but addictive feeling of butterflies fluttering around in his stomach. After the divorce, it felt so foreign to him that he didn’t even try. He had resigned himself to being a single father who co-parents and lives the rest of his life comfortably and quietly.

But here you were, rambling on with flushed cheeks and bright eyes trying your hardest to ask him out, and he couldn’t be more captivated.

There was just something about you. You were pretty, obviously. Anyone with eyes would’ve been able to see that. But there was something else, too. You were still young and not entirely pessimistic yet, with your whole career ahead of you. Probably no more than a few heartbreaks under your belt, able to muster up some sort of courage to fight for what you wanted. He used to have that, and he missed it — admired it, even. As you finally cut yourself off and looked up at him with mortification written across your face, Art saved you from further embarrassment with a smile. 

“Um…coffee sounds good,” he said with a shy smile. “Not from the cafeteria, though. If it’s as bad as it was when I went here, I’m not gonna let you waste your meal card money on it. There’s a cart outside of the athletics center, I stopped by it this morning. It’s still good.”

Trying your best to mask the shock you were feeling by his answer, you quickly nodded. “Oh, okay. Sounds good.”

You spent the entire afternoon with him. Coffee turned into lunch, and lunch turned into a long walk. Although you both had things to do, neither of you wanted to say goodbye and go on with your day. You skipped the rest of your classes for the day, letting Art show you around campus. He took you to all the places you had never been, and you kept quiet and let him show you anyway when you passed somewhere you had already been a hundred times. He was polite and asked you about your major and career goals, even managing a graceful smile when it was his turn to tell you about his career and how it unfolded after he graduated. He was careful to leave out the end, but he found himself comfortable enough to tell you about the first few years. You asked what you could, but you really didn’t know enough about the sport to ask much of anything.

“I’m boring you to death, aren’t I?” he asked when there was a lapse in silence after you passed a poster with his face on it for a Wimbledon campaign.

“No, not at all!” you replied, tilting your head up towards the poster. “I’m just wondering how you managed it.”

Art cocked a brow, turning towards you. “Managed what?”

“Not becoming a complete asshole,” you shrugged, making him burst out laughing. “I’m serious! You’re not the first celebrity to come here during alumni week. The difference between you and them is that you didn’t show up and immediately start bragging about how successful you had become. As far as I can tell, you’re the same as when you graduated. That seems pretty rare.”

“There’s not much to brag about,” he shrugged, too humble for his own good.

“A career Grand Slam isn’t worth bragging about?” you asked, turning away from him when he gave you a confused look. “Okay, fine, I may or may not have Googled you back in the restaurant while you were in the bathroom. I was running out of things to ask you, and I figured I should know something about tennis. Anyway, I was impressed.”

Art just chuckled. “I’m flattered.”

After walking a few more minutes, the street lamps turned on. It had gotten late enough in the evening that they were starting to light up around the darker parts of the campus. It was your cue to stop walking and look around, both of you realizing how long it had been since you started talking.

“I guess I should be headed back to my dorm,” you said, a hint of disappointment in your voice. “My roommate is probably freaking out by now. She knows I never really go anywhere after class without her—and yes, I heard how pathetic that sounded as it came out. She’s probably gonna call campus security if I don’t show up soon.”

Art nodded, knowing you were right. And yet, his feet didn’t move. Neither of you made any attempt to leave, still standing under the soft light of the street lamps. Art looked at you with soft eyes, absentmindedly reaching to fiddle with his wedding ring with his thumb before he remembered it wasn’t there anymore. Finally, he cleared his throat. 

“Well…I guess this is the part where I ask you for your number.”

“It was nice meeting you, too—” you started, doing a double take once his words registered. “Wait, what?”

Art let out a nervous laugh, shrugging. “You bought me a coffee, it’s only fair that I do the same. I’m here all week. Maybe you’d want to do this again sometime?”

“Uh, yeah! Yeah, that sounds good,” you replied, trying your best and failing to sound as nonchalant as you could.

Art smiled and pulled out his phone, opening his contacts. He handed it over to you, watching as you typed in your number before handing his phone back to him. You fought the heat pooling in your cheeks, fiddling with the strap of your bag. Art grinned, breaking the silence. 

“Go find your roommate. Tell her to call off the search party.”

You chuckled, nodding. “I’m on it. Well…bye, Art.”

“Bye, Y/N. I’ll text you,” he replied, enjoying watching you shuffle back and forth on your heels. 

He made you nervous. And for some reason, he liked that. He’d spent practically the last decade of his life perpetually nervous. It was nice to know someone else felt the same way. 

He watched you go as you turned around and headed back to your dorm, a distant but still familiar warmth in his chest. He’d only known you for a few hours, but he could already tell he liked you. By the time you made it back to your dorm and managed to come up with an excuse for your roommate who immediately interrogated you the second you stepped through the door, your phone was ringing. You excused yourself to the bathroom with a bashful grin on your face, answering the call.

—

You spent the better part of a week with Art when you both had time between your classes and his seminars. 

It felt surprisingly easy and normal talking to him. Your small talk about your careers and plans turned into more personal topics, and then you were talking about anything and everything. You were fully aware of the age gap between you two, but it didn’t bother you nearly as much as you thought it would. If anything, it was part of the draw to him. He was also kind and friendly, with a surprisingly self deprecating sense of humor that made you laugh. Not to mention the fact that he was drop dead gorgeous. You had to actively make sure he didn’t catch you staring at him when his head was turned. He made you want to actually giggle out loud, which is something you never thought you’d do over a guy.

By the end of the week when it was time for him to leave and go back to New York, you both were dreading saying goodbye. 

It was late in the evening, about an hour before he had to leave to catch his flight. He’d finally taken you to the courts, once again only lit by the street lamps overhead. It was the first time all week he’d stepped onto the court and actually wanted to be there, not surrounded by onlookers who knew every nook and cranny of his life and career. Instead it was you, the sweet pretty girl who made him genuinely laugh when you asked him why the points system would ever use the term love to describe a lacking score. 

He fiddled around for a while, teaching you a few serves and how to hold the racquet to hit the ball. Eventually he was on the other side of the net, watching you giggle and chase after the few balls he’d softly serve your way. He could hear you panting and the sound of your shoes skidding across the court, but your laughter was too sweet to make him stop. 

Finally, you stopped to take a break, sitting down on the bench. “Don’t look at me, I might cough up a lung.”

“Very impressive,” he smiled, passing you his water.

“Thank you,” you grinned, motioning between him in the court. “Go on, let’s see what you’ve got. I’m down for the count, but I’m sure the ball machine will be more than happy to fill in for me.”

Art smiled, watching you grin at him with flushed cheeks and glowy skin. If anyone else was asking, he wouldn’t have done it. He wasn’t interested in showing off his skills, or lack thereof to put it more accurately as of late — he’d stopped training as intensely after the divorce, no new tournaments waiting for him to come and win. But the look on your face when you asked was just one he couldn’t say no to. Plus, your knowledge of the sport wasn’t that vast. You probably wouldn’t notice if he slipped up anyway. And if you did, you’d be too kind to make him feel bad about it.

“If you insist,” he groaned, but he was still smiling to himself as he moved to the other side of the court.

You watched him play for a few more minutes. He really was something to see. Every movement he made was smooth and graceful, a far cry from the stumbling around and huffing and puffing you had been doing. Every ball hit its target, every serve lining up exactly where he wanted it to. As silly as it sounded, you actually had to prevent yourself from clapping once he finally slowed down and turned the machine off.

“Look at you go,” you smiled from the bench, handing him back his water as he walked back over.

His cheeks flushed pink, and he was silently praying you couldn’t see it from under the low lights. He was too busy getting all flustered to reply to you, and it made you smile. It was silent for a long moment as you stared at each other, before he finally stood up. You followed him, a sinking feeling in your gut as you realized that it was probably time to say goodbye.

It had been a week you had never even dreamed would’ve happened to you, and yet it did. The one risk you decided to take had led to the most fun you’d had in your entire time at Stanford. You didn’t want to see him go.

As you looked up at him with soft eyes and a melancholy look on your face, like you were looking to him for all the answers, Art felt a sharp tug in his chest. He found himself immediately wanting to fix it, wanting to make you smile again — smile because of him. He’d have done anything in that moment to get you to laugh again.

So, against his better judgment, he leaned in and kissed you. 

It was a spur of the moment decision, one he almost immediately regretted. But then he felt you sink into the kiss, your hands coming up to his waist to steady yourself. He cupped your cheeks and pulled you into him, unable to stop the smile spreading across his lips. 

And that was all it took — he was falling, and falling hard. 

—

That was months ago now, and yet, Art still found reasons to visit you. 

When there was lapses in tours, or it was Tashi’s week with Lily, he always somehow found himself ending up coming right back to you. He’d pick you up from your dorm, and you’d spend the entire day with him. On weekends, you ended up in whatever hotel he was staying at, telling your roommate you were going back home for a few days. When you weren’t together, you were constantly texting or calling. He even sent a postcard once when the ATP took him to Europe. It was cheesy, but you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face all day when you got it in the mail. 

You hadn’t exactly put a label on the relationship, but it was clear to the both of you that you meant more to each other than either of you cared to admit out loud. Quite a bit more, actually.

And Art wasn’t stupid — he knew what your relationship looked like. 

Recently divorced, a younger woman by his side. If they knew, the media would paint him as one of two options: an easily manipulated victim of a gold digger, or a washed up athlete who split with his wife that was now taking what he could get, the younger and prettier the better. 

But that wasn’t it at all for Art.

It wasn’t just sex, or a new pretty face. You were something different. A breath of fresh air. Someone who didn’t care about his career or money or fame. You had no interest in what he could offer you, or what you could get out of him. You never made him feel pressured to do anything or talk about anything he didn’t want to. He’d spent so many years craving a sense of normalcy and peace. Time and time again, he’d wanted to go to Tashi and beg for a break in his routine. But, always too afraid to disappoint her and everyone else watching him, he stayed quiet. He never got a break. As odd as it was to say, that’s what you were to him when he met you — a break. A minute to breathe, a moment to relax. He always felt that way around you.

Simply put, he was head over heels for you. He didn’t think he’d feel like that for another woman after Tashi until he met you, and it shocked him how easily the feeling came to him.

And it wasn’t just him that had fallen. 

You practically hung on every word he said, and soaked up every ounce of praise he gave you. You had never been with someone like him before. Someone so experienced and sure of himself, but just as gentle and patient as he was sure. He made you laugh and smile, and he made you feel safe. For whatever reason he had taken interest in you, you didn’t care, you just didn’t want it to stop. You clung to it, enjoying it while it lasted.

And if either of you had anything to say about it, it would last.

—

By the time you finished explaining your relationship with Art to your roommate, she was already pushing you out the door. 

“Go, go, go,” she squealed, tossing you your keys. “Wait!”

She wrapped her hand around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks as she glanced down at the outfit she chose. “Is that a new dress? Did he buy you a dress? Oh my god, please tell me he has a brother.”

“Not sure,” you grinned, smoothing your hand down your front. “Show up to alumni week next time and find out.”

You were already pressing a kiss to her cheek and rushing down the hall before she could get out another word, giggling as you made your way to the stairs.

On the drive over to the hotel, the nerves in your stomach were making you nervously tap your fingers on the steering wheel. You must’ve got caught by every stop light, making the trip even longer. You were practically vibrating once you finally pulled into the parking lot, grabbing your bag and hurrying inside before your nerves got the better of you and made you stand like an idiot in the lobby, trying to muster up the courage to get in the elevator. You coasted on autopilot as you forced your feet to lead you upstairs to his floor, all the way down to his door. You only came back into your body when you raised a hand to knock on the door, pausing to take a deep breath.

Just knock, you thought to yourself. You’re a big girl. Just knock.

You had barely even knocked twice on the door before the door swung open, and you came face to face with Art. Your breath hitched in your throat, and you took a second to take him in. Still as pretty as you remembered, and every bit as alluring. You could feel yourself melting. 

The feeling was mutual. 

Art let out a sigh of relief, like it was the first good breath he had taken in weeks. A genuine smile crept onto his face as he reached for you, practically making grabby hands like a child. 

“Come here, pretty girl.”

You tried and failed to stifle a giggle, immediately burying yourself in his chest. You let out a hmph as you pressed your cheek against him, your arms wrapping tightly around his waist. You could feel his thumb running along the bare skin of your arm, his lips pressing a kiss to the top of your head. He nudged the door closed with his foot, tugging your bag from your shoulder and setting it on the floor without even letting you go. He was warm to the touch, and steady against you. He hummed into your hair, squeezing you tighter.

“There she is,” he murmured, letting out a small laugh. “My girl.”

“Hi, baby,” you giggled, the sound making his heart soar in his chest. 

He slowly walked you backwards to the bed, supporting most of your weight as you laid down. He was quick to follow, burying his face into the crook of your shoulder. His arms hooked lazily around your waist, his weight pressing you into the mattress.

This is what you both had been waiting for. This feeling, this moment. Just this.

“You look very pretty today,” he whispered into your skin, pressing a kiss where his lips rested. “All this for me?”

The humor in his voice made you grin, your fingers running through his hair. “Couldn’t let you be that pretty all by yourself.”

Art smiled, pressing his face further into your neck as he let out a breath. You tightened your grip around him, holding him close. You let your eyes close, resting your cheek against the top of his head. 

A comfortable silence fell over the both of you, as easy as it ever was.

—

A/N - Hi! So sorry this took so long to get out, thank you for your patience. I keep rereading this and editing it over and over, I’m not totally happy with it. But something is better than nothing, and I’m tired of staring at, so here you go! Hope this is ok, let me know what you think :)

[hannya-writes]

Luffy/Zoro calling you their Wife.

I had to write this idea with these two. I enjoy it way too much, hehe. Anyways, let's start!

Luffy

"Y/n is my wife" Luffy said those 4 words only to get rid of Boa.

The former shichibukai had been pestering him about marriage for the nth time in the last few days.

He was done, he didn't want to hear the word marriage ever again but the empress couldn't get it in her head.

You on the other hand had gone there to talk with your captain about the tiny details he hated to solve.

You have managed everything around the ship since more than a decade ago. If someone needed something they went to you.

And you reported everything to Luffy even when he wasn't paying attention. He trusted you. You were basically his vice Captain, even in battles.

You had once been a captain of your own ship before joining the straw hats. You knew how to do the work, so you just did it.

"What?" Boa looked at Luffy with a mix of horror and pain.

"Luffy!" You were going to admit that was a lie, that there was no way Luffy would ever marry.

But Luffy pleaded with his eyes. Luffy was almost 30 but was able to pull such cute puppy eyes on you that you had to fight the instinct of hitting him in the back of the head.

"Y/n?" Boa asked sadly and Luffy pointed at you, right behind her.

She turned to look at you with disdain and then her furious eyes suddenly showed panic.

Boa knew who you were, well most people knew about you. The Dragon of the West, you had helped Luffy all those years ago to become the pirate King. If the yonkos still existed you would be at that level.

"You promised you would tell anyone!" You sighed getting closer to Luffy passing by the side of a contrite Boa, only to pull Luffy at your level to kiss him.

Luffy didn't back off, he took you by the waist and welcomed the kiss. He pressed you against his body and deepened the kiss.

Your relationship with Luffy was casual, sometimes you had sex, sometimes you cuddled and sometimes you were just friends.

There were feelings involved, of course! But you didn't put on labels, you were pirates for gods sake! You loved freedom!

"Excuse me" Boa said in a tiny embarrassed voice and left in a hurry.

You pushed back to break the kiss but Luffy didn't back away, staying way too close to you.

"Come on" Luffy said before carrying you in his arms in bridal style "you got marriage duties in my room"

"Put me down Luffy I just came to bring you a report" you told him looking away from him.

"Forget about it, we gotta consummate our marriage" he joked and you laughed.

Zoro

"Oi, that's my wife" Zoro didn't say it to brag, he wasn't angry, it wasn't a menace. It was just a piece of information that Chopper told him to say if men started to bother you too much.

Some of the Mugiwara crew were out on the island you had stopped by. Sanji was hunting ingredients, Nami was looking at clothes and you decided to stay close to Zoro as you both went for Sake.

"I'm flattered, but I'm not interested. '' You told the guy who flirted with you but he didn’t give a shit what you said because he started following you around like a lost dog.

Sanji had asked you if you wanted him to kick the man away, but you, being the sweetheart you were, told him not to bother and so, he sighed and went his own way.

Zoro on the other hand, He didn’t ask. He said those words hoping the dude would stop and walk away.

Your relationship with Zoro was excellent, there was a thing going on between you two but it was a secret. You didn’t wanted Sanji bothering Zoro or Nami asking you about why and how that had happened. You were not embarrassed of being Zoro’s couple. It just was impractical.

And you two were too practical to make things complicated.

Sanji froze in place at the hearing of the Marimo's words, then he whipped his head in your direction for confirmation even when he was at least 100 meters away.

“Wife? a beauty like you is with that… animal?” the man asked and you frowned, they could say whatever they wanted about you but no one messed with your friends and especially not with your lover.

“Well the “animal" as you call it, is the best swordsman in the world" you said stopping to look at the man in annoyance "He unlike you knows that when I said "I'm not interested" I meant fuck off" you told the asshole but he made heart eyes at you.

"You look beautiful even when you are mad" he whispered and you felt a vein pop in your temple. "I'll give you anything you want, just give me a chance sweetheart, I'll buy the most expensive jewels, the best dinner in town… I'll make you forget about him"

"Okey, that's enough" Zoro muttered to himself as he unsheathed one of his swords to point at the man. "You can't buy her, she's mine" that time he was angry, he moved the sword slightly and made a scratch in the man's shoulder

The man shrieked in pain and you looked at Zoro with a smirk.

"fucking Pirate, I'll call the marines, then you…"

"The marines can't help you, you messed with my wife, I'll take care of you…" Zoro was ready to kill.

"She's not even that pretty" the man said afraid "she's just a pirate's whore"

With a big smile you stopped Zoro by putting a hand in his chest, his eye met yours and he put the sword down, giving the man the perfect moment to escape.

Only for you to throw him a needle to the neck, making him fall in his face, paralyzed.

He tsked at you and sheathed his sword.

"Fucking scumb" he muttered, still angry.

"It's ok, I don't care" You answered and he looked down at your lips. Your hand was still over his chest.

"I do, no one talk like that to..." He doubted, he didn't know how to label you

"your wife?" He blushed at your words and looked away

"Yeah" he answered, pulling you closer by the waist.

"Thank you, dear husband but let's not make an scene" you were about to kiss when…

"So you two are together, uh?" Nami said, appearing from nowhere, making both of you freeze on the spot.

Zoro blushed even more and so did you.

"Fuck" Zoro said in a whisper and you cursed too.

Sanji appeared running, cursing Zoro for his words and the fact that you two were together.

You giggled and Sanji attacked Zoro for being such a "lucky bastard" for getting you.

Of course your smile vanished when Nami asked about the wedding and how come she wasn't invited.

You two have made a big mistake.

[fatkish]

Heyy, i wanted to request a Eresermic im which Aizawa has a biological daughter, but she is being bullied and they noticed when she was already thinking in ending it all.

I understand if this is too dark, i just lived something similar and my parents blamed me, so some confort would be apreciared hahaha

Thankss, i love your writing 🩷

(Oh my gosh, this hits so close to home because this happened to me. My parents grew up in the era where if boys were mean to you it was because they like you. So when I begged them to do something about my bullies, they did nothing. Needless to say, my childlike innocence was the only reason why I’m alive. Although I may be doing better than I was back then, nothing can erase the trauma from the unintentional neglect from my parents. I hope you don’t mind, but I’ll be basing this somewhat off of my own experience and I’ll be putting it in the Pro Heroes x Inner Child Series)

Erasermic x Aizawa’s Bullied Daughter Reader

(TRIGGER WARNING: This story has mentions of bullying, harassment, allusions to suicide and suicidal thoughts, depression and other potentially triggering topics. Please be advised)

Since you basically have two dads, you refer to Hizashi as papa and Shouta as dad

Your quirk was called restraint. Basically if you called someone by their real, full name, you could temporarily restrain them as long as you focused on them

But just like your dad, you also had to be able to see your target

But unlike your classmates, you were a late bloomer. You developed your quirk at age 8, which led to you being bullied by your peers

You knew that your dad’s worked really hard and that their jobs were really stressful at times. So the last thing you wanted was to be another source of stress for them. Which is why you didn’t tell them about the bullying

You were 11 when you just couldn’t take it anymore. You tried to deal with the situation on your own, you tried to fight your bullies who even started making fun of your dad’s being a couple

You tried not to let anyone’s words affect you but after so many years, you started to believe them too. And you began to bully yourself

You would tell yourself that your dad’s already had enough stress on their plates and that you were just a burden on them. You had started to mentally and physically beat yourself up

The bullies had started to use their quirks on you, resulting in bruises which you would hide with makeup that your Aunt Nemuri had gotten you since you started to develop acne

Since your dads would get home late, you had plenty of time to get home and cover up any wounds

One day, you just had enough

You decided that you were better off dead. You decided that you would take your own life after you got home and would leave a note before leaving the house so your dads wouldn’t have to deal with the body

Unknown to you, Aizawa had gotten a call from one of your teachers who was concerned about you. She had seen you fighting and decided to give Aizawa a call since your grades and overall performance had declined significantly

Aizawa had informed Hizashi of the call and they decided to go home early and wait for you. They believed that you were going through puberty and the hormonal changes were effecting your performance and were the cause

Imagine their surprise when you get home, covered in bruises, a busted lip that was still bleeding and a completely dead look in your eyes

Seeing their precious baby in such a state they immediately started to worry and begged you to talk to them

They had prepared your favorite food for dinner and even got you your favorite dessert as a treat. Seeing how sweet they were, you broke down and confessed your pain and your plan

Hizashi was balling his eyes out and wrapped you in his arms while Aizawa had clenched fists with tears in his eyes.

Aizawa made the call to your school demanding a talk with the principal and the parents of your bullies. While Aizawa was setting that up, Hizashi had you sit on the couch while he tended to your wounds, disinfecting them, cleaning them and bandaging them

He told you that he loves you even though you’re not his biological kid, you’re HIS little listener, his favorite kid in the whole world. He then picked you up and smothered you in hugs and kisses

Aizawa came back into the room and brought the food

That night, you guys are on the couch as you snuggled together under a blanket and watch your favorite movie

The next day, Aizawa and Hizashi dropped you off at UA with Nemuri, while they had a talk with your teachers and bullies. They decided that homeschooling would be the best for you right now since they want to make sure you heal mentally, physically and emotionally from this before you go back

They had told Nedzu what happened and he agreed that for the meantime, until you were mentally stable again, the safest bet would be to have you do your homeschooling at UA where you’ll be surrounded by people who can help you and prevent you from doing anything detrimental to yourself

Needless to say, they love you and you are their whole world and you’re the reason why they fight to come home. You’re their motivation and the reason they fight to protect

(I hoped this helps you and that you guys enjoy this)