#stubborn reader

[monserelates]

Rain Check ; James Potter

⇨ f!reader x james potter

⇨summary: It was supposed to be harmless fun. But not all magic bends to intention—and some mistakes don’t wash away with the rain. So, what happens when y/n gets caught up in a prank meant for Snape?

⇨ word count: 2.5k

⇨ warnings: Use of y/n, stubborn reader, protective james, apologetic james, platonic!snape x reader, snape has a small crush on reader, hypothermia-like symptoms, vomiting (mild), guilt, soft Snape, happy ending, mentions of drowning, cursing, girlhood and brotherhood at the end lmk if more!

Nothing new. Just something mild, Sirius had insisted.

A storm charm. Just a laugh at Snape’s expense. But charms stack weird. Magic’s sensitive. And the corridor was old stone.

"The Charm's ready," Sirius announced. "It activates when Snape passes the third sconce—illusion magic first, so he panics, then the full weather hex."

“Rain and sleet. Disorientation fog. Maybe a bit of slippery stone for flair.” James twirled his wand. “Just enough to make him miserable.”

“You said no fog,” Remus muttered.

“I added it last minute,” Peter whispered. “It sounded funny.”

They all laughed.

Except Remus. “Just… make sure no one else gets caught in it.

Little did he know..

The castle was unusually quiet before lunch. You liked it that way. No noise. No chaos. Just the steady rhythm of your footsteps echoing down the Arithmancy wing.

You were running late—not that Slughorn would tell you off. Head pounding from lack of sleep, shoulders stiff from a restless night.

You rounded the corner.

So did someone else.

Snape.

He flinched when he saw you. "Y/N."

“Hi,” you said gently, offering a small smile. “You alright?”

He blinked at you, surprised. “I’m… fine?”

You nodded. “Cool. Hey, did you—”

The third sconce sparked.

The air snapped like a whip.

Magic slammed into the corridor with force.

Suddenly—

BOOM.

The floor groaned. The ceiling cracked open.

And the sky caved in.

You gasped.

Rain poured from the ceiling like a waterfall. Wind whipped the stone corridor into a storm tunnel. You slipped on the soaked floor. The vials shattered beside you.

Icy water pelted down like a monsoon. Wind howled, rain slicing into your skin, instantly soaking your robes through.

Snape stumbled, slipping hard against the stone. You barely caught yourself against the wall.

“Wh-What the hell?” you gasped.

He spat out water. “This is their doing. Has to be.”

Fog rolled in. Cold, cloying, blinding.

You couldn’t see five feet in front of you. The corridor warped and shifted—Muggle illusion spells. Dizzying. Disorienting.

Snape grunted, voice muffled. “Get under the stairwell! It’s slightly shielded—”

You crawled to him, soaked to the bone, fingers numb. The cold was seeping in now—not just wet. Dangerous. Bone-deep.

And then—your stomach twisted.

Not like nerves.

Like wrong.

“Oh—shit—” you gagged, doubling over.

Snape went pale. “Y/N?”

You threw up violently. Again. Again. Your body shivered uncontrollably.

The rain wasn’t just water. There was something in it.

The fog. The illusions. The cold.

Snape’s wand sparked, but short-circuited. “This spell is way too strong. Idiots. They didn’t calibrate it properly—” He was rambling now. Panic edging into his voice.

They should have checked the map.

They should have listened to Remus.

He shouldn't have-

"Bloody hell," Sirius whispered. "That’s not Snape."

James’s heart stopped.

You were right in the middle of it— Soaked. Slipping. Head down. Coughing hard.

And Snape was already dragging you toward cover.

“Oh my god—” James dropped his wand.

He was running before he knew it.

--------

You’d felt worse. Probably. Maybe.

Actually—no, this was bad.

The cold wasn’t just outside—it was inside. Your bones. Your magic. Your lungs. You didn’t want to be weak, though. You hated that.

You were not about to pass out in front of Potter.

James reaches you in seconds. “You’re freezing.” He shrugs off his robe, wrapping it around your shoulders. “What were you doing here?”

Your lips tremble. “Going to class.”

Sirius, Remus, and Peter appear behind him, breathless.

Sirius goes pale. “Y/N… you weren’t supposed to—shit. We thought Snape—”

“You thought you’d trap him like an animal and humiliate him,” you say flatly.

They all freeze.

Your voice is soft, deadly. “And you trapped me instead.”

James crouched in front of you, eyes searching. “You’re freezing. You’re shaking.”

“Obviously, it’s raining, you idiot,” you snapped.

He flinched, then reached for you. “I can carry you—”

“No.” You pushed his hands off, breath coming short. “Don’t you dare pity me, Potter.”

“It’s not pity.”

“Well it feels like it.”

James swallowed hard. “Y/N—please. You’re not okay.”

You tried to stand.

Your knees buckled. The world tilted.

And then—

Everything went black.

-----

You woke in the Hospital Wing with a sore throat, an IV spell in your wrist, and the faint smell of Pepper-Up.

“She collapsed—just like that—she tried to walk—”

“You think I don’t know that?!”

“James—stop pacing, you’re scaring Pomfrey—”

“Then maybe someone should’ve told me pranks have consequences!”

Pause.

“She didn’t even want help,” he muttered. “She didn’t want to be seen as weak.”

You blinked slowly.

Warmth. Clean sheets. A glowing charm by your temple. Smell of mint and magic.

The Hospital Wing.

James sat at your bedside, hunched forward, head in his hands.

You saw the tear tracks before you even said his name.

“...James?”

His head jerked up.

“Y/N?” he whispered. “You’re—you’re awake?”

You nodded weakly. “Unfortunately.”

He exhaled sharply. “You bloody idiot.”

You frowned.

“You scared me to death.” His voice cracked. “You—you didn’t even want help. Why? Why are you always trying to act like nothing hurts you?”

“Because if I act fine,” you muttered, “people don’t pity me. They don’t try to fix me. They just… let me be.”

He leaned closer. “But I don’t want to let you be.”

You blinked.

“I want to be there when you’re cold and stubborn and terrified. I want to carry you out of stupid prank floods, even when you hate me for it.” He laughed—wet, broken. “And I want you to know you don’t have to prove anything to me.”

You were quiet for a moment.

“I wasn’t trying to prove something,” you whispered.

James looked at you softly. “No. But you’re always trying to hold yourself together alone.”

Silence.

Then, you mumbled, “You’re really bad at pranks.”

He let out a choked laugh. “I��ll write that on my tombstone.”

You looked away, cheeks warming. “You stayed the whole time?”

“Of course I did.”

“Even after I called you an idiot?”

He leaned forward, voice lower. “Especially after that.”

A pause.

Then you said, almost too soft to hear: “I’m sorry I pushed you.”

He smiled. “I’d let you push me a hundred more times if it meant I get to see you wake up again.”

You groaned, trying not to smile. “You’re unbearable.”

“Yeah, but you like me anyway.”

You didn’t deny it.

Then said, voice hoarse: “Next time you like a girl, maybe don’t nearly kill her.”

He laughed—wet, broken. “Deal.”

You didn’t say anything else. But you shifted over in the bed.

He sat beside you, cautiously.

And when you let your head rest on his shoulder, he let out a breath like he’d been holding it for weeks.

Later that night, in the Hogwarts Staff Room:

Professor McGonagall sat stiffly in her armchair, tea trembling ever so slightly in her hands.

“So,” she said, in that crisp Scottish tone that always meant she was this close to hexing someone, “Mr. Potter nearly drowns Miss Y/L/N in a hallway monsoon because he was attempting to soak Severus. Did I hear that correctly?”

Professor Flitwick gave a small, uncomfortable shrug. “It does appear that was the… intended trajectory.”

McGonagall raised a brow. “And she collapsed in front of him. Refused help. Then passed out dramatically.”

Sprout, without looking up from her biscuit, muttered, “Because she’s too stubborn for her own good.”

Slughorn, reclining in a squashy chair with brandy, chuckled. “Typical Gryffindor. Honestly—if those two don’t get married one day, I’ll eat my cauldron.”

There was a beat of silence.

Then—

“I told you,” Binns said dully from the corner (nobody knew why his ghost was even in the room). “Three weeks ago, when I saw them bickering outside my classroom. That’s sexual tension if I’ve ever seen it.”

“I don’t think you’re allowed to say ‘sexual tension’ as a ghost,” Flitwick squeaked.

McGonagall rubbed her temples. “Merlin, they are students.”

“Minerva,” Slughorn said gently, “we’ve been watching these two dance around each other for three years. You nearly choked on your pumpkin juice last spring when she called him a ‘golden retriever with a wand and an ego.’”

McGonagall pursed her lips. “…It was a very apt description.”

Sprout pulled a parchment scroll from her robes. “I’m adding five galleons to the pool that they kiss before the next Hogsmeade weekend.”

“I’ll match you,” Slughorn said. “But only if he confesses first. You know how noble James is—boy wears his feelings like a neon sign.”

“Did anyone notice how gutted he looked after she collapsed?” Flitwick whispered, clutching his heart. “He didn’t even posture. He just… fell apart. It was rather poetic.”

“It was,” Binns agreed, hovering above the tea table like a bored cloud. “Felt like Act II of a tragic romance.”

McGonagall finally set her teacup down. “Very well. I’ll add a galleon on Y/N being the first to say ‘I love you.’”

Everyone turned to stare at her.

She blinked. “What? I may be head of Gryffindor, but I’m not blind. That girl has more bite than a Hungarian Horntail, but she’s soft where it counts.”

Sprout nodded. “And the way she looked at him when she thought he couldn’t see? Mm. That’s a girl in love.”

Slughorn raised his glass. “To the girl who refused to admit she was freezing to death, and the boy who never left her side.”

Clink.

And somewhere down the corridor, Peeves cackled as he wrote “POTTER LOVES Y/L/N” across the dungeon ceiling in glowing pink letters.

----

The sunlight filtered softly through the frosted windows of the Hospital Wing. It was that gentle morning light—peachy gold and a little too bright—that made everything feel quieter than it was.

Your eyelids fluttered open.

The world came into focus slowly: clean sheets tucked tight around you, a faint herbal scent from the potions cabinet, and your throat, still raw, but no longer burning. You blinked, shifting slightly.

That’s when you saw him.

James Potter, in the chair beside your bed, slumped forward with his arms folded on the edge of the mattress. His face was smushed into the crook of his elbow, hair falling into his lashes, glasses crooked and barely clinging to his nose.

You stared at him for a long moment. His hand—still loosely clasped around yours—tightened a little when you moved.

You swallowed, voice a hoarse whisper.

“James?”

His head jerked up so fast his glasses slid off completely.

“Y/N,” he said, breathless. His eyes scanned your face like he couldn’t believe it. “You’re awake.”

“You drooled on my blanket.”

He blinked. Then laughed softly, relief spilling out of him all at once. He ran a hand through his tangled hair, his voice thick. “You scared the absolute hell out of me.”

“I told you I was fine,” you said, stubborn as ever—but your voice cracked halfway through and you winced.

“Yeah, well,” he murmured, leaning forward again, “you’re also the worst liar I know.”

Your heart did something traitorous in your chest.

“I didn’t want you to worry.”

“I always worry.”

Silence.

“I didn’t want to seem weak.”

His brows drew together, and he looked at you so seriously it made your stomach flip.

“Y/N,” he said, “you got hit by a storm, had a fever so bad you collapsed, and still tried to convince us you were okay. That’s not weak. That’s idiotic.”

“Thanks, Potter.”

He smiled. “Anytime.”

Another pause. And then, so gently it barely carried:

“Don’t do that again, okay? Don’t shut me out.”

You stared at him, your fingers twitching in his.

“…Okay.”

He smiled—slow and soft—and you were dangerously close to melting when a loud ahem cut through the stillness.

Professor McGonagall stood at the door, arms folded, a very suspicious twitch to her lips.

“Miss Y/L/N, I trust you’re feeling better.”

You blinked. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Good. Because I’ve just subtracted twenty points from Gryffindor for grossly irresponsible magical conduct. And”—she turned to James—“ten more for Mr. Potter’s… romantic dramatics in the hallway last night. Honestly, fainting girls and vigil bed duty. You’re not starring in a Celestina Warbeck novel.”

James flushed bright red. You sank lower under the covers.

McGonagall turned to leave—then paused. Over her shoulder, she added dryly:

“Oh, and for the record—Professor Flitwick wins the betting pool. He said you’d be holding hands by sunrise.”

And with that, she swept from the room.

James slowly turned back to you.

“…We’re never living this down, are we?”

You squeezed his hand. “Not a chance.”

He grinned, and for the first time in days, so did you.

Later That Night – Gryffindor Common Room

The fire was burning low, casting warm flickers across the old velvet couches and scattered socks by the hearth. It was late, and most students had gone to bed—but not the inner circle.

James was freshly showered, curls still damp, socks mismatched, a biscuit half-chewed as he leaned dramatically against the back of the couch. Sirius lounged beside him, stretching like a cat.

Remus was reading in the corner, half-listening. Peter sat cross-legged on the floor, trying to build a tower of cards that kept toppling over.

You were curled into a corner cushion with a blanket around your shoulders, legs tucked beneath you, sipping ginger tea that Lily swore would help your throat.

“Alright,” Sirius finally said, pointing a half-eaten chocolate bar at James. “Spill.”

James blinked innocently. “Spill what?”

Sirius gawked. “Don’t play dumb. You slept by her bedside. You held her hand. You fainted with relief when she woke up—”

“I did not faint—”

“You did the emotional equivalent of fainting, James.”

Remus didn’t even look up. “He whimpered like a kicked puppy.”

You narrowed your eyes playfully. “I wasn’t dying, you know.”

James turned to you immediately. “You collapsed in front of me. Do you have any idea how terrifying that was?”

Your heart flipped. Again.

Sirius sighed dreamily. “You two are exhausting.”

“I vote we hex them both into a closet,” Peter offered cheerfully.

James smirked. “You’d miss me.”

“No, we wouldn’t,” Remus muttered.

There was a beat of laughter—then the portrait hole creaked open, and in came Lily, Marlene, and Dorcas, holding snacks they’d nicked from the kitchens.

“You’re up late,” Lily observed, eyeing the scene.

“I was being interrogated,” James said solemnly.

“Correction: worshipped for your tragic love arc,” Sirius said.

Dorcas flopped onto the rug. “Please. It’s only tragic if she dies. This is more ‘slow-burn Gryffindor pining with extra rain.’”

You hid your face in your cup.

Marlene grinned, leaning back. “Honestly, the real plot twist was Snape.”

James made a face. “Don’t remind me.”

Dorcas turned to you. “She called him an idiot and held his hand.”

Marlene arched an eyebrow. “Enemies to lovers arc progressing nicely.”

Lily rolled her eyes, but her smile gave her away.

“Also,” Dorcas added with mock solemnity, “Snape said—and I quote—‘For once, she doesn’t disgust me.’ So that’s practically a love letter.”

You choked on your tea.

James blinked. “He said what?”

Lily laughed. “Let’s just hope James doesn’t try to prank anyone else to get her attention.”

From the hallway, James shouted: “I heard that!”

“Good,” Lily called back.

You curled further into the blanket, cheeks warm and aching from smiling.

And despite the coughing fits, the prank gone wrong, and the dramatic unraveling of Gryffindor's most chaotic couple-to-be, everything felt… right.

Warm. Familiar.

Like a story finally turning the page.

[aventurineswife]

Kinich with a Fontanian!reader who keeps overworking themself on projects they have, yet will always deny it to their grave if called out on it. They act awake and sparky most the time but of course their dear friend has seen through it, and knows they’d probably actually pass out from closing their eyes a second too long.

A Second Too Long

Summary: You’ve always been the type to push yourself too far, working yourself to the bone in pursuit of your projects. No amount of exhaustion can stop you—at least, that’s what you tell yourself. But Kinich sees right through the act. And he’s not about to let you collapse on his watch.

Tags: Kinich x Reader, Fontanian!Reader, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Stubborn Reader, Pragmatic but Caring Kinich, Sleep-Deprived Shenanigans, Protective Behavior, Slow-Burn Friendship/Romance.

Warnings: Mentions of exhaustion and overworking, Slightly scolding but well-meaning Kinich, Reader being stubborn to their own detriment.

You had always been good at keeping up appearances. It was a necessary skill, after all—one that came naturally in Fontaine, where wit and endurance often meant the difference between success and obscurity. You thrived on projects, on discovery, on unraveling the mysteries of the world one sleepless night at a time.

And it was fine. You were fine.

Except Kinich, the ever-pragmatic hunter, saw right through you.

"You’re going to collapse." His voice was as flat as ever, his lizard-like eyes scanning you with that unrelenting scrutiny of his.

"Me? Collapsing? Don’t be ridiculous." You waved a dismissive hand, the movement a little too wide, a little too careless. "I just finished an important breakthrough—I can’t afford to take a break now."

Kinich said nothing at first, only watching as you turned back to your notes, your fingers tightening ever so slightly around the pen. He had learned long ago that you were stubborn, but he had also learned your tells. The way your sentences ran just a little too fast. The way your posture wavered when you thought no one was looking. The way you rubbed at your eyes, like you could will the exhaustion away if you just tried hard enough.

"If you close your eyes for more than a second, you’ll pass out."

You scoffed, tapping at the parchment before you. "That’s absurd. I’m as awake as—"

Your own yawn betrayed you, cutting through your words like a blade. Your entire body seemed to deflate for a moment before you caught yourself, blinking rapidly. Kinich raised a brow.

"You were saying?"

"...That was just a trick of the light."

His stare remained unyielding, and you hated how much it unnerved you.

A rustling sound came from behind, and before you could react, something warm and heavy draped over your shoulders. You glanced down, startled to find Kinich’s jacket wrapped around you.

"Lie down," he ordered, voice as impassive as ever. "You’re wasting more time fighting sleep than you would just resting."

"I—" You tried to argue, but the weight of the fabric, the scent of the wilds clinging to it, was already working against you.

"Lie down," he repeated, and this time, there was a quiet finality to his words.

For a moment, you hesitated. Stubbornness warred with exhaustion, but Kinich had already read the outcome long before you had. With a resigned sigh, you relented, letting yourself slump onto the cushions beside your scattered notes.

The last thing you felt before sleep claimed you was the subtle press of his fingers adjusting the jacket, making sure it covered you completely.

And, though you’d never admit it, you were grateful.

[untoldstar]

rich yandere x reader part 3

part 1 part 2

I missed my bby warner so yay part three after a decade everyone applaud🙏

male yandere, female reader

Warner impatiently drums his fingers on the steering wheel, his eyes locked on the restaurant's window. Specifically, on your figure sitting on a table in front of the window, allowing him a front-seat view of your supposed 'date' with this random man. After he shows you all he could offer you on a silver platter, somehow, you still run to another mediocre man who takes you to an alright restaurant at best for a first date.

He's a little disappointed in you if he's being honest. And he's more disappointed with how you're acting like you're actually enjoying this.

You sip your wine with a smile, cheeks flushed bright in the warm lighting, eyes glazed over and gazing into that man's eyes like he's the only one you see. Leaning over the table closer to him, letting him touch your hand.

Just what do you think you're doing?

The drumming fills the silence of his car, and he's surprised the windows aren't fogging up with the way he's huffing and puffing. He's waiting for this little playdate to be over so he can have a little chat with you, and if you aren't being a difficult brat like you always are, he could take care of you properly. You shift in your seat slightly to rummage through your purse, and his eyes zero in on the movement., You only twisted your body slightly to the side, but the slight movement made the fabric of your dress shift, revealing a dark navy strap tugging at your skin.

He stills. Were you wearing his present for another man? Were you planning to show it to him? To use it?!

His body is moving before he even realizes it, swinging his car door open and slamming it behind him like a madman. A couple walking down the sidewalk whip their head to the sound, concern painting their face, but he ignores them and keeps walking towards the double glass doors. He charges towards your table, and your date notices him first, his smile fading as his eyebrows pull in a tense line, you turn to look over your shoulder and your eyes are blown wide, you almost jump out of your seat and bolt but he makes it to your table in long strides before you get the chance to, eyes locked on yours the entire time.

Your date notices your reaction and straightens up "Can we help you-" Warner looks at him with absolute disgust and disdain, like he's nothing more than a pest that dared to crawl near him "I'm not in a great fucking mood tonight, I'd mind my business if I were you." His gaze slides back to yours, softening only a little but still having that hard edge where his anger burns slowly. "Come on love, let’s go." He sighs extending his hand out for you to take it, and you feel like your entire body is on fire. "Excuse me? I'm not going anywhere with you, and if you thought for even a second that I'd do otherwise, then something is seriously wrong with you." He huffs and rolls his eyes. "Save me the dramatics, love. Come with me so I can dine you properly and discuss this little stunt you pulled." Your jaw drops, "Stunt?!" You don't mean to but you shout making a few heads turn in your direction. You feel embarrassment creep up to color your cheeks as you hear murmers around you but you don't back down "You follow me and crash my date, which I have been enjoying up until now, and I'm the one who pulled a stunt?" You're both glaring at each other, fire burning behind your eyes, bodies tense. You dates eyes dart between both of you, almost hesitating to intervene. He pushes his seat back, the wood screeches against the floor, and you both snap your head towards him. "Listen, man, you need to leave. She doesn't want you here, and we'd like to finish our date. We don't need to make a scene." Warner doesn't say anything, only stands still and stares unblinkingly at your date. You hold your breath, You wouldn’t be completely surprised if he pounced on your date right now.

But he never does. He only walks away from your table and through a door in the back disappearing deep in the restaurant. You share a worried glance with your date and shrug, both of you not saying a word. A few minutes later, Warner is walking out with a paper in his hand and determination in his eyes. Your eyes widen and your mouth gapes "He fucking didn't.." You whisper, and your date looks confused.

The entire table shakes when Warner slams the paper down, silverware clinking and wine spilling on the white cloth. He crosses his arms and taps his foot impatiently. You take a closer look to read and have your suspicions confirmed.

The fucker actually did it.

"I assume you have the basic capability to read, meaning you realize I own this place now. Get the fuck out of my restaurant." Your date scoffs "Whatever man, you're insane. Come on, let's get out of here." He picks up his coat and reaches out to hold your hand when Warner blocks it "You won't be taking her anywhere or putting your hands anywhere near her." His tone isn't the usual polite classy one you're used to. He sounds viscious, like he's being held back by a thread. You spring up from your seat catching both their attention “This is ridiculous. Look, I need to take care of this, you should leave." Your date almost looks betrayed and he looks at you like you're the craziest person he's ever met "Are you serious? He's crazy-" You reach a palm up to pat his chest comfortingly "I promise I'll be okay. I'll call you later." Warner scoffs, muttering under his breath "Like hell you will." You hold back from shooting him a glare instead focusing on your date who seems to be having an internal conflict. Eyes darting between you and Warner before he slowly nod "Okay I uh- Just text me or call me or soemthing. Let me know you're okay.” You nod and give him a gentle smile and he finally leaves but not without looking over his shoulder about five times. As soon as the doors shut behind him you hastily grab your coat and purse and walk around Warners body to the door, not once looking at him and not bothering to put on your coat either, the only thing on your mind was getting as far away as possible from him. A decision you soon regreted as the cold air hit your exposed skin. You were only a few steps out of the restaurant before you heard the door open behind you followed by shoes tapping on the concrete floor. He gently tugs at your arm "Wear your coat, it's cold." you shake your arm out of his grasp and coontinue walking "Not cold." He hufs behind you.

You don’t have to look at him to know he’s rolling his eyes "I don't mind working for it love but I really don't think either of us is in the mood tonight." You hear his footsteps behind you but you continue ignoring him. That is untill yout feet are lifting off the air and you're being thrown over his shoulder like a sack of patatoes "What are you doing?!" Your hands ball up into fists and pound on his back “Put me down. Now!” You tel when you feel a sharp sting on your ass “Stop fussing darling.” You reach his car and finally he lets you down. If he notices how red your face has gotten he doesn’t show it. He opens the passengers door and looks at you with a bored expression “Get in.” You’re tempted to spare a glance behind your shoulder to see if you could make a run for it but settle with quietly getting in the passenger’s seat. After tonight you’re sure he has no issue picking you up and placing you in the car himself if it came to that.

The car ride is quiet. Only the hum of the cars engine and the clicking of the blinker filling the silence. You shift uncomfortably in your seat and clear your throat “How did you know I was on a date tonight?” He sighs and smiles softly “I always know what you’re doing. I thought you knew that already.” You roll your eyes “So you followed me like a psychopath and ruined my date?” He shakes his head bitterly “That was a joke not a date. He doesn’t deserve you.” You turn to him fury in your eyes “And you do?!” The car stops abruptly and you brace a hand on the dashboard “Yes I do. More than anyone and I truly don’t understand why you can’t see it. I’ve shown what I can offer you and you’ve barely considered it. What’s worse after everything you go to a random man who can’t give you half the things I can” He growls “Do you truly despise me that much?” His eyes hold desperation and frustrations. Your glare softens “Are you really never going to stop chasing me?” His gaze hardens “Never. You can hate me all you want, you can throw out everything I give you and I’ll never stop.” You sigh your body going limp. You look out the window to see you’ve been outside your apartment this whole time.

You bite your lip and curse under your breath “Okay.” You’re probably going to regret this “One date.” He smiles and reaches a hand up to caress your cheek tenderly “Thank you love.” He leans in and his breath fans against your ear “I promise you’ll wish you would have done this sooner.” You shudder and push him away. “Don’t get ahead of yourself I’m just getting you off my back.” You grab your purse and reach to open the car door “Burn it.” You blink “Burn what?” He looks at you with an unamused stare “What you’re wearing under that dress. I’ll buy you a different one.” You scoff “Pervert.”

You make sure to slam the door behind and not look back once knowing he’s staring at you.

The next morning just as promised a package arrived at your door. Dark red, lacy and filling your head with thoughts you don’t want.

“I should make it clear you don’t wear this for anyone else love.

See you soon.”

You don’t crumple his note and chuck in the trash like you normally do.

Guess you’re going on a date.

[isabeauwolf]

Law x Plus Size Nurse reader 1

Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

Chapter 1: Dr Grumpy's got a crush

You were beyond tired.

Working as one of the nurses for the newest, high tech, fancy and affordable famous hospitals in The Grandline was a dream come true for some.

You?

Sure, it paid well. Fantastic. You worked and studied your ass off to get through nursing school. Somehow everywhere wasn't taking in new fresh, faced newbies. It made you lose hope. Tempted to go back to your old jobs by working as a librarian's assistant and busting tables on your days off.

After the last straw you decided to turn in an application for "Heart" General Hospital after making a bet with Nami that you wouldn't get in. Why?

The Head Director and Doctor Trafalgar Law is known to be an extremely professional and hardworking, overachieving and rude... highly attractive asshole.

The Surgeon of Death, Dr Heart Stealer was a Miracle Worker in his field, becoming one of the youngest and wealthiest, most sought after doctors on this side of Grandline. Knowing he came from The North Blue with his fellow coworkers and childhood friends, Penguin, Shachi and Bepo was cute.

Oh, you had seen him on the covers of magazines, one of the hottest and most eligible, rich and sexy bachelors on the marriage market.

Of course, you were a fan. Okay, a fangirl. Maybe, he was your teenage crush... Obsession... Still is. But that's beside the point!

Two years and you still couldn't believe you got in! Trafalgar Law had been away to conduct your interview, so the task had been handled by his Chief of Staff Bepo, the polar bear mink. Without a second hesitation you asked him for a hug which he gladly returned!

You had heard the rumors. He didn't play around when it came to his job, people's lives and was a hard ass to everyone. You do mean everyone.

And yet... Somehow. You could have sworn Dr Heart Stealer was extremely and unfairly targeting you. That he hated you since day one. You couldn't figure out why?

Oh, you would be nice and civil. But you weren't going to roll over and cower in the corner, hell no. So you would challenge him, bite back, your own childish, stubborn and bratty spiteful nature showing its ugly head whenever you were the most tired.

Seriously? What the hell did you do to earn the ire of Dr Grumpy, insomniac?

Doc's going to give himself an early heart attack or aneurysm one of these days you can see it. And frown lines and wrinkles. You wouldn't be surprised, if the twenty-six-year-old already had a few grey or white hairs secretly hidden underneath his unruly, inky black tresses.

Who will save our grumpy heart surgeon when he himself needs a Doctor? You thought to yourself as you got off the elevator. You phone buzzed, sneaking a glance as you unlocked your screen and opened a group chat message that consisted of you, Penguin, Shachi and Bepo.

Watch out, Y/n! Caps looking for you better make a run for it!

Uh oh, better, hurry. Seeing that message made you speed walk towards the exit.

You had already used the hospital showers and dressed in your casual pajamas, which consisted of a tank top, basketball shorts and a zip up hoodie. You were heading through the lobby and was closer out the door and to your bed when you heard Dr. Killjoy calling your name.

Damn, almost made it to freedom. You pause, halfway turning. Your hand tightening on the strap of your small black duffle bag with white spots, the hospital logo on it and your name embroidered. It was a company gift during Christmas for every one of the hospital staff and workers to receive a commemorative gift at the end of the new year. During your first year it was a soft yellow and black blanket with hearts all over it and last year was your duffle bag.

Law walks towards you, his brows knit tight as he scowls.

Well shit. That wasn't a good sign first thing in the morning.

Who the hell put sour candy in his coffee this morning? You thought to yourself, knowing he hated sour things when you offered him a blackberry war head once while on break, which he refused watching as you opened the wrapper and shoved it into your mouth without making a sour face. You swear he looked at you as if you were an alien. You just smiled and laughed, stuck out your tongue, showing him, the candy then putting the muscle back into your mouth, shoving it into your chubby cheek. "The trick is to suck on it to dissolve the coating faster."

He nodded his head and continued drinking his coffee.

Back to the present.

You're unsure why he's upset. Maybe it was because you were tired, or your sympathetic nature feeding off of Law like a giant emotional battery. It made your own temper and annoyance flare. You just wanted to go home, enjoy your day off, relax before coming back in tomorrow. Inwardly groaning you peaked outside the giant glance windows and into the parking lot, directly in the direction of your parked car. Please let this be quick.

With the scowling, towering, coffee addict doctor being so close, it's hard not to notice what he's wearing today. A dark navy sweater with the company logo directly over his crossed arms, black feathered collar, his spotted print faded washed denim jeans, black boots and hatless.

Such a shame to cover all of the tattoos that littered his body and hiding his lean yet hint of muscled physique. It's clear that he takes pride in his body. However, as nice as it looked. If you had to pick your favorite feature on Trafalgar Law? It would have to be his eyes. The most intense and icy, spine-chilling stormy silvers you'd ever seen.

"Hey." You answer, trying to act casual. "Need something?"

He stands in front of you. Well, damn. Penguin and Shachi were right. The Captain, Trafalgar Law is pissed off. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to go home, take a nap and relax." You answer. "It's my day off today. Don't you remember, Captain?"

Captain was everyone nickname for Trafalgar Law, given he ran the hospital as if he literally was "The Captain" of a sea fearing vessel, a ship, no, better yet, a yellow submarine! Nah.

His scowl lowers into a frown.

What? You don't get it? Just what the hell did you do this time? You helped one of the interns who got lost trying to find the laundry room yesterday. To be fair, this hospital was massive! You took all of the dirty dishes down to the kitchen on your designated floor last night and took care of a new mother who's just given birth two hours ago. Seriously, what more does he want? You'd wish he'd tell you!

"Bepo is sick." Law explains, pinching the bridge of his nose with his middle and index finger. "Penguin and Shachi are already busy." He opens his eyes; flashes of anger and annoyance cross his face as he keeps his voice low. "In an hour we have a trio of brotherly burn victims on the way this morning and I need your assistance in the operating room."

You wanted to tell him it wasn't your problem. Sure, you've helped Bepo, Penguin and Shaci in the operating room before, but never Law. Never The Surgeon of Death and your Captain. But instead, you kept your mouth shut and in a firm line. You didn't want to already push anymore of his buttons and anger him further. "Okay." You say, trying to keep your tone even. "What about Ikkaku? Or-"

He cut you off. "No, L/n." He bites and continues. "There is no one else available right now. Only you."

"Someone is always on call." You fire back, anger rising. "Besides I'm not dressed for it."

His jaw clenches. "You do know our protocol and motto, don't you?"

If you are free and able to help, then you have to pull your weight until the task is done.

The Heart company motto?

Every patience who comes in is a top priority.

"You know what? Fine." You huff, throwing you small duffle bag onto the chair beside you. "Since you insist that I need to get ready now and last minute." You puff out your chest, hand on your hip as your turn and face your boss. "I'll get ready right here."

"You wouldn't dare." Law's lips twitched into a smug smirk, trying to call your bluff.

"Oh? I won't, doc?" Retaining eye contract with Law's amused liquid metal orbs, you proceed to quickly unzipping your jacket, yanking it off along with your blue tank top. "I'm get ready now."

You are standing in the middle of the lobby, fellow doctors, nurses and hospital staff, patience is watching the exchange between you two, but you don't care. You don't care that everyone is getting an eyeful of you half nude form, all your extra pounds, rolls, love handles, tiger stripes, thick thighs and hint of cleavage or your wide hips and ass.

You weren't ashamed of you body.

You owned it with pride. Besides, if a man didn't appreciate all of your curves and flaws then he wasn't worth your time.

Was it petty and crossing many social, illogical regulations and rule breaking behavior? Absolutely. You wouldn't be surprised, if you were giving a slap on the wrist or called into Law's office later for such an unabashed display as undressing in front of your boss but also for the whole hospital to see.

Frankly you were too tired and pissed off to care.

Then again. Watching Law's smug and cocky assed smirk vanish as his eyes widens, and his cheeks grow inflamed. You kept going, yanking off your basketball shorts, leaving you in your bra and underwear, throwing the clothes into your duffle and bending down Infront of him as you proceeded to put your scrubs back on.

Kicking off your flip flips and switching them out for your socks and tennis shoes before quickly retying your hair into a messy bun with a scrunchy you had kept on your wrist. "There. I'm dressed and ready for servitude." You gave a mocking salute. "Are you happy now, Captain?" Zipping your bag and marching while hissing as you pass him. "You owe me overtime, coffee and breakfast for this, Doc."

Law watches you go. He's too stunned to speak. His cheeks and tips of his ears are red. He simply had no words; he was completely tongue tied and flat out shocked.

Penguin, Shachi and Bepo saw the whole things. All three were covering their mouths for different reasons. Bepo out of worry and embarrassment, Penguin and Shachi were holding onto each other while trying not to blow their cover, each shoving a hand over their mouth as their shoulders shook and quaked.

"Damn, she got him good." Penguin whispered through clenched teeth.

"I think that's the first time a girl stood up to him and made him shut up." Shachi muttered, biting his bottom lip.

"Why didn't Captain say it nicer?" Bepo said, his voice muffled by his paws.

The other two glanced at the Polar Bear Mink as if he'd grown a second hand.

"Did you forget who our boss is?"

"Yeah, Captain snow leopard tsundere doc would rather eat bread than confess his jealousy and feeling for-"

Shachi and Bepo backed away, thier eyes widened.

"What?" Penguin stopped talking, then he felt a cold, icy chill crawling down his spine. "Shit, it's Cap, isn't it?"

The man and mink nodded.

Penguin turns, coming face to face with the most seething, venomous, heated glare they had ever been on their boss whenever StrawHat Luffy tries to shove bread into his face. Or anyone who really pissed The Surgeon of Death off!

"What was that, Pen?" Law's voice was low, heated and filled with deadly, sharp edges. "I'd rather do what?"

Penguin gulped. "Nothing."

"Good." Law grit out. "Get back to work." His gaze shifted to the other two. "Bepo, take this and go home." Law shoved his hands into his lab coat pocket and shoved the prescription into his chest. "Doctors orders. Stay home for two days and call me if your condition worsens."

All three scramble, shouting, "Ai, ai, Captain!"

Law sighed, scrubbing his face as he glances around the lobby. "Shows over."

Everyone shifts there gazes away, going about their business or getting back to work.

The grumpy doctor trudges his way back into his office, slamming the door shut. He leaned against the door, his grip on the door handles tight, white knuckled. Law's whole body felt flushes as his heartbeat thudded hard in his ears, the organ slamming against his ribcage and he leaned his head back and covered his eyes with his free hand. "Damned, stubborn, bull-headed woman." He muttered to himself.

How the hell was he going to think straight if all he could see behind when he closed his eyes was your half naked body? Not to mention the new annoying problem tightening in his pants. Law uncovered his eyes, clicking his tongue and glaring down his crotch. "Traitor." He adjusted himself, awkwardly, stiffly walking towards his work desk and sat down in his big, leather office chair. Trying to think about any turn off to solve this problem quickly.

------ End of Chapter 1 ----

Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

Want more Law x reader? I've got you!

Merman Law x reader Law x Pregnant reader

Okay, this whole enemies to loves was a complete impulse on my part but come on. I have to feed my fellow plus size ladies! ;)

Yes, I adore Law. I'd tease him all day long, but if he's going to be snippy with me then I'm bite back.

Sooo should I continue?

I haven't forgotten about my Law x Pregnant Reader, or Merman Law fangirls!

Tag list: @m0sigma7 @angelblueflame @pandora-writes-one-piece @short-honey-badger @supreme-burrito @fanaticsnail @turtletaubwrites @cherry-queens-blog @fairymama624 @mrstraffy @kira-scarllet @strawheart-pirate @azuragalaxya @kira-scarllet @the-ginger-draws @cericebelle @emlikesfl0w3rs @aceismyloveforever @mrstrafalgardwater24 @imsnk-ow @thekatisspooky @lunulatalux @physics-of-one-piece @honeyshiddendesire @pinkbun1

[alexwritingspot]

hii!! I was wondering if you could write percy jackson x reader with prompt 3 or 7? I know that you wrote an enemies to lovers recently but those are the vibes that these two prompts give me. maybe it can be something else! feel free to do whatever you're comfortable with!! love you, thank u!!

Hidden feelings…

An unexpected convocation from the gods leads to a messy confession behind the closed doors of a elevator…

Prompts 3 and 7: “Wait- are you jealous?” “You wanna kiss me so bad~”

pairing: Percy Jackson x reader

word count: 1.4k

Warnings: none

————————————————————————————

A/n: Hi darling! I deeply apologise for making you wait so long! 😓 In the start I had promised myself I would have written your story pretty early, but then I didn’t have a scenario in mind! So I’m really sorry if you waited like- two months, before getting your request done, hope you won’t unsubscribe because of this 🧡😭 anyway, enjoy your reading!

P.S. I tried making this a bit longer as an apology

————————————————————————————

You couldn’t believe it. You were walking to the Empire State building with Percy Jackson, the famous son of Poseidon, the hero of the Olympus and also your enemy. You didn’t really hate each other, you simply couldn’t stand him because he always took the spotlight on himself, leaving the others with no time to shine. Even if he claimed that he didn’t want all the attention for himself and that he even tried to hide from the spotlight you didn’t quiete believe him. But here you were, walking by his side after a flash convocation from the Olympus, what did they possibly want?

You had tried to figure that out since Chiron had called you over at the big house, but you didn’t give yourself a proper answer. You kept walking and you tried to ignore the glances that sometimes Percy sent your way. “Today the sky is really cloudy” he said in a attempt to try and make conversation “I bet the king himself didn’t wake up with the right foot” he joked, trying to ease at least a bit the palpable tension between the two of you. “I bet that he’s going to fulminate you one day if you keep talking about him like that” you said with a sharp glare threw in his direction.

After walking for about ten minutes more you both arrived at the entrance of the enormous building. “Here we are” you said, and before Percy could add anything else you were already inside the skyscraper.

You entered the building and went straight to the receptionist “600th floor” You simply said, giving the poor employer a death glare. He looked back emotionless “we don’t have a 600th floor” he was doing his job, you didn’t really blame me for it. “Look, you’re talking to a child of g/p and a son of Poseidon so you better let us in-“ before you could finish Percy stepped in, gently pushing you aside.

“Sorry for my friend here, but you see, they are having a bad day and a convocation from the gods really was the cherry on the top, but we need to get on Olympus as soon as possible, you wouldn’t want Poseidon or g/p mad at you because you didn’t let their children up, would you?” He pulled out a confident smile and you rolled your eyes.

The man looked between the two of you before stamping something on a paper sheet. “And what might your names be?” He asked, and you were starting to lose it “Listen here you little-“ but before you could add anything else Percy pulled you back again “Percy Jackson and Y/N L/N, now may we enter the elevator… please?” He looked at the employer expectantly.

He stamped something else before getting up and starting walking “this way” Percy let out a sigh of relief. You and the son of Poseidon followed him until you were arrived “Have a nice trip to Olympus” he said flatly, before walking back to his desk.

The two of you entered the elevator and when the door closed leaned over the mechanical box’s “wall” to catch your breath.

”I’m not your friend” You suddenly blurted out “I didn’t come here to keep you company or anything, I came here cause I was summoned by Zeus himself, so don’t make up strange ideas in that head of yours.” You warned and crossed your arms.

He looked at you slightly hurt “Has a manticore stung you or something? You’re more bitter than usual.” You shot him a death glare but said anything, his eyes had caught your interest, they were beautiful… For Hades, what were you thinking?!

You quickly looked away and waited as it played in the background an old song named “You make my dreams (come true)” by some old singer you couldn’t remember the name of. You wondered who had chosen the elevator playlist, it had probably been Apollo or one of the muses.

You glanced around and found Percy staring over at you, he had a strange look on his face, and you couldn’t quite place the emotions he was feeling. “What is it? Do I have something on my face?” You asked, not because you were actually worried about your appearance, more to break the strange atmosphere that was building up.

He quickly shook his head “no no, I was just looking at you… you’d be even prettier if you smiled more sometimes” he stated, and you looked at him, your mouth slightly agape. You tried to hide the forming blush of your cheeks, but you failed miserably. At that he let out a chuckle.

That only made you blush more, the tips of your ears red from embarrassment. “I…” you tried to come back at him with something, but you just couldn’t, he was too handsome in that moment. “Just shut it, would you sushi prince?” It was meant to be a sort of mocking insult, but it came out cuter than you expected.

You saw Percy take a step closer “Sushi prince?” He ask, trying to be serious, but barely managing to hold in a laugh. “Yeah, cause you’re a son of Poseidon, and fish call you prince, and you use fish to make sushi-“ I looked up at him “you know what? Drop it, it wasn’t that great of an insult” You simply concluded.

“No why? No one had ever called me that, it’s… creative, let’s say” he tried. You gave him a look that said ‘really?’ And them the two of you bursted out laughing. Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all…

You unintentionally took a step closer to the boy, there had always been something that had attracted you to him in the years, but you denied it behind the excuse that you didn’t like him, but oh boy if you did, liked him. But then something he said pulled you out of your thoughts. The elevator had stopped. Why? You asked yourself. Of course it would have been you.

He looked at you “there’s no need to worry, Annabeth explained me once how these things work, we just have to call in the emergency” he stated calmly as he pressed the yellow button. “Annabeth, huh?”you asked him. You couldn’t quite place what was the strange feeling that you felt in the pitch of your stomach when he named her, but you didn’t like it.

“Yeah, Annabeth” he replied and you just stared at him “you and her are pretty close, aren’t you?” You ask, annoyed. Percy just looked at you, slightly confused. “Well, yeah, but we’re only friends.” He stated, and you could hear in his voice that he was telling the truth. Then why didn’t you believe him? “Oh yeah, just friends, got it” you retorted back, and you cursed yourself for not having held your tongue.

He seemed surprised but then… a sly smirk formed on his lips. “Wait- are you jealous?” He smiled like a little kid on Christmas day. You looked away “No…” but your redness was hard to hide now. “You’re jealous! Oh gods, you’re all red” he laughed, and maybe, but just maybe, his voice wasn’t as annoying as you remembered.

“What if I am?” You then asked him, still leaning on the wall of the elevator. He smiled even more cheekily “No nothing, I just think it’s cute” he said, and leaned closer. You didn’t push him away, yet you didn’t lean in.

“Why do you hate me?” He asked “I don’t hate you” you paused “I just think you are incredibly self-centred sometimes” you admitted. “Oh, thank you” he replied sarcastically with a playful roll of his eyes “Just so you know, I don’t find you self-centred, annoying or anything like that, you’re just impulsive” he stated, and he was standing so close…

You glanced at his lips, because how could you not? You then forced your glance back on his. His usual smirk returned “You wanna kiss me so bad~” he teased and then leaned over the wall, pinning you to the elevator wall, but you weren’t intimidated. “So, what if I do, Jackson?” You asked in anticipation of what was about to come.

“Oh nothing” he answered and leaned closer, your lips just a few inches away “maybe I want too” and then his lips crashed onto yours, and nothing else mattered, it was only the two of you, and you wouldn’t trade that feeling for anything else.

[staygolden-and-chaotic]

heyyyy!!! can you do some injured!reader headcanons for ponyboy and curly? but maybe she is very stubborn and has that “i can do it myself” attitude? tysmmmm ilyyyy🤍

OFC!!! That sounds so much fun!!! And ilyyyy!🫶🏻💋

Ponyboy Curtis

Ponyboy knows you’re stubborn, so when you get hurt, he doesn’t immediately rush to baby you. Instead, he watches, letting you struggle until he has no choice but to step in.

If you won’t let him help, he’ll do little things without asking bringing you a pillow, setting things within reach, or leaving a glass of water by your bedside like it just happened to be there.

“You’re impossible,” he mutters when you insist on getting up despite your injury. But there’s no real bite to his words, just that soft look in his eyes that says he’ll always be there.

Watching you hop around on one foot or struggle with something you swore you could handle makes him bite his lip to keep from laughing until you shoot him a glare, and he quickly apologizes.

If you’re stuck in bed or on the couch, he’ll grab a book and start reading to you, figuring it’s the best way to keep you from moving too much.

“You don’t have to prove anything,” he reminds you when you insist on pushing yourself. He knows you’re tough, but he doesn’t want to see you in more pain just because of your pride.

Instead of making a huge fuss, he’ll casually offer help. “Here, let me do that,” as he takes something from your hands, like it’s no trouble at all.

If you refuse to take medicine or rest properly, he’ll sigh and mutter about how “some people just don’t know what’s good for them” as he reluctantly gives in to your stubbornness.

“I don’t want to see you hurt worse,” he says softly, hoping that’ll be enough to convince you to slow down and let him help.

If you’re struggling with something, he’ll quietly step in and fix it while you’re not looking whether it’s cleaning up something you spilled or finishing a chore you were being too stubborn to let go of.

“I know you can do it, but that doesn’t mean you should.” He always tries logic first, even if he knows it won’t work.

“Oh, sure, because limping across the room is such a great idea,” he teases, shaking his head at your stubbornness.

He doesn’t like seeing you struggle when you don’t have to, so sometimes he’ll get irritated, crossing his arms and refusing to help unless you ask for it.

“If you sit still, I’ll bring you something from the store,” he offers, hoping a small reward will make you listen for once.

He vents to Two-Bit or Soda about how stubborn you are, hoping for advice. They mostly just laugh and tell him, “Good luck.”

If you’re really struggling but won’t admit it, he has no problem just scooping you up and ignoring your protests.

If someone else causes your injury, he gets mad, even if it was an accident. He’s normally chill, but when it comes to you, he doesn’t mess around.

“If you don’t rest, I’ll tell Darry,” he warns, knowing that’ll make you stop pushing yourself so hard.

Even though it drives him crazy, he secretly loves your independence and strong will. It’s part of what makes you you.

No matter how difficult you are, he never stops caring. He’ll always be there, even if it means letting you struggle a little until you finally accept his help.

Curly Shepard

Instead of getting frustrated right away, Curly finds it hilarious when you struggle because you won’t let him help.

“Damn, babe, you look real graceful limping like that,” he smirks when you insist on moving around despite being injured.

“Oh, so now you don’t need my help? Funny, ‘cause last week you were all over me when you wanted somethin’.”

He’ll pretend to offer help, then yank it away last second just to make a point. “Oh? You got it? My bad.”

If you won’t admit you need help, he just does it anyway grabbing things for you, opening doors, anything to make you take it without a fight.

“Jesus, just let me do it, would ya?” He doesn’t have Pony’s patience and gets fed up when you refuse to accept help.

He may complain, but deep down, he respects how strong you are. He wouldn’t date a pushover.

If you’re struggling to walk, he will throw you over his shoulder, no matter how much you yell about it.

“Man, I should start callin’ you ‘cripple’ with how you’re limpin’ around.” He loves pushing your buttons.

Acts all nonchalant but is actually watching you closely to make sure you’re okay.

If you’re really being difficult, he might tell Tim just to see what his brother thinks about it. Tim usually tells him to let you handle it yourself.

“You keep pushin’ it, and I’ll literally tie you to the couch.” You’re not sure if he’s joking.

If stubbornness was a sport, you’d be a champion, and Curly���s the poor guy stuck dealing with you.

If your injury gets worse because you wouldn’t listen, he will say, “I told you so,” even while he’s helping you.

He might physically push you back onto the couch if he has to. He doesn’t care if you get mad.

He won’t even ask before doing things for you. That way, you don’t have time to refuse.

“Took ya long enough,” he grins when you finally let him do something for you.

“Keep refusin’ my help, and I might just ‘accidentally’ hide all your stuff where you can’t reach it.”

you’re complaining too much, he’ll just kiss you to get you to stop talking. Works every time.

If anyone else dares to mess with you while you’re injured, Curly will throw hands without hesitation. You may be stubborn, but you’re his stubborn girl, and no one’s gonna mess with that.

I hope you like it! I was in a rush!:(

[gotxpenny]

Stay With Me

In a world tearing itself apart, a guarded medic lets herself finally fall—only to find Babe Heffron already waiting, steady and soft, willing to stay through every broken piece.

Pairing: Babe Heffron x Reader

Prompt: "I can’t fix you. But I’ll sit with you while you fall apart.”

Word Count: ~2,500

Genre: Hurt/comfort slight angst because why the fuck not

Setting: Zell am See, Austria

Warning: idk is there even any?

Note || I'm well aware that Chuck didn't really die but for the sake of the one shot please roll with it and enjoy 😭 Also please please PLEASE send in some requests I’m running out of ideas 🥲

gotxpenny's masterlist band of brothers masterlist

The sky was the same dull gray it always was these days. Smoke curled from the end of my cigarette as I sat on the low stone wall, boots scuffed and numb from the cold. My fingers shook, not from the chill—but from everything else.

Chuck was gone. Shot through the head in a town whose name I barely remembered. My best friend. My only real friend, if I was being honest. One second we were talking about chocolate rations, the next he was bleeding out on cobblestones, and I hadn’t even had time to say goodbye.

Now, I just sat here. Smoked. Didn’t cry. Couldn’t.

I was the black cat, after all.

The hard-ass. The woman who didn’t flinch, didn’t break, didn’t let anyone get close. I’d earned that reputation from day one. Other companies pushed me around, treated me like I didn’t belong. Hell, some of the men in Easy did too—at first. But they stopped when they realised I wouldn’t take it. Winters had my back. Lip gave hell to anyone who mouthed off. Even Liebgott—who barely liked anyone—left me alone.

But then Babe Heffron came along.

Kind. Open. Soft in a world that demanded sharp edges. He looked at me like I was something human. Not a burden. Not an anomaly.

Just me.

The first time we met, it was in a muddy clearing just outside Eindhoven. I was patching up one of the new replacements, hands stained red, boots sunk in the muck. He offered me a canteen. I didn’t take it.

I’d been expecting the usual—side glances, whispers, someone calling me sweetheart or nurse like I wasn’t wearing the same uniform they were. I’d braced for it, like always.

But he didn’t do any of that. He just stood there, calm and patient, as if he had all the time in the world for someone like me.

“You okay?” he’d asked, voice gentle but unafraid.

I remember blinking at him like he’d asked if the sky was blue. No one ever asked if I was okay. Not seriously. Not without some agenda behind it.

“I’m fine,” I had said, curt. Cold. Automatic.

He just nodded, like he believed me. But he didn’t leave.

Instead, he crouched beside the replacement I’d just bandaged and struck up a conversation—low and kind, meant to distract from the pain. Me, I was already halfway gone, mind on the next thing, the next wound, the next job.

But he stayed in my periphery. And the next day, and the next, I started noticing the same thing.

He was present. With everyone. Not just the officers or the loudmouths. Not just his friends. With the guy who couldn’t stop shaking. With the medic who didn’t want to be seen. With me.

He didn’t treat me like I was something strange to figure out. Didn’t walk on eggshells, didn’t try to force small talk just to see if I’d bite. He was easy in his silence, comfortable in the gaps most people couldn’t stand.

And somewhere in those first few weeks, something shifted.

I started to wait for his voice in the mornings. Started to listen for his laugh across camp. Started to wonder what he’d say if I ever let down my guard long enough to tell him how scared I was. How angry. How lonely.

I didn’t let him in. Not yet. But he was there anyway.

Patient. Quiet. Constant.

And that was what undid me the most.

Because Edward Heffron didn’t try to break down my walls.

He just stood outside them, waiting, until I opened the damn door myself.

Then I heard the crunch of gravel behind me but didn’t turn my head. I knew the sound of his footsteps now. He never walked too loud, never approached like the others did—like I’d snap if they got too close.

“Didn’t think you smoked,” Babe said gently, settling down beside me without asking.

“Only when everything’s fucked,” I muttered.

He nodded like he understood. Maybe he did. Babe had always felt things too deeply for this war. It showed in his face, in the way he never looked away from the wounded, in the way he saw people.

Babe remembered the first time he saw her.

Not just noticed her—saw her.

She was knee-deep in mud and blood, sleeves rolled past her elbows, hands working fast and sure over some poor kid who couldn’t stop screaming. There was no panic in her, no wasted movement. Just focus. Tension. Grit.

She didn’t look up when he offered the canteen. Just gave him a glance sharp enough to cut and a curt, “I’m fine.”

He believed her, but he also didn’t. Not in the way that mattered.

Because beneath the hardened look and the stiff posture, he saw something else—a kind of ache that had nowhere to go. She wore it like a second skin, like she’d gotten used to the world asking everything from her but giving nothing back.

Everyone knew her by then—the woman in Easy. Tough as hell, didn’t take shit from anyone. Guys in other companies called her all sorts of things when they thought she couldn’t hear. Black cat. Ice queen. Bad luck.

Babe didn’t buy any of it.

He saw the way she stayed long after everyone else moved on. The way she checked on the wounded even after Doc Roe said they were stable. The way her eyes flicked to the horizon like she was waiting for the next thing to go wrong. Like it always did.

She wasn’t cold. She was guarded.

And he got that.

Maybe it was the Philly in him. Maybe it was because he’d never liked bullies, never liked the kind of guys who needed to tear someone down to feel strong. Or maybe it was just her. The way she didn’t flinch when things got ugly. The way she carried herself like she didn’t need anyone—but looked so damn tired of that weight.

He didn’t know when exactly he started falling for her. Maybe it was the way she never sugarcoated anything, not even comfort. Maybe it was how she looked at people like their pain mattered—even if she didn’t think hers did. Maybe it was because she didn’t try to be soft for anyone, and somehow that made her feel even more human.

He kept his distance, at first. She had that kind of presence that warned people off without saying a word.

But he stayed close enough. Close enough that when she needed quiet, he gave it. When she needed someone to sit with her and say nothing, he was there.

And the truth was—he’d never seen anyone like her.

She didn’t just survive the war. She stared it down. Every day.

And he’d made a quiet promise to himself, somewhere in those broken towns and long marches. He couldn’t fix her. He wouldn’t try.

But he’d stay. Every time she came undone, every time the cracks showed, he’d be there. Quiet, steady, and hers—if she ever wanted him.

The silence stretched and I didn’t offer him the cigarette. He wouldn’t have taken it either way. Instead, he folded his hands between his knees, elbows resting on them as he looked straight ahead at the empty road.

“I heard about Chuck," I didn’t answer. My jaw was locked too tight, “I liked him,” he added after a pause, “He always snuck you extra socks when they came in.”

That almost made me smile. Almost.

Instead, I exhaled a shaky breath and said, “I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, Heffron. I don’t know how to do this without people I trust,” I paused, swallowing the lump in my throat, “Or if I even know how to be someone worth trusting anymore.”

Silence danced between us. But not the uncomfortable kind. Babe’s quiet was the kind that made space, not pressure.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to know,” he said eventually, “I think you just get up. Keep going. Let people in, little by little, even when it scares the shit out of you.”

I glanced at him then—really looked at him.

Because that voice, those words…they didn’t feel real. Not in this world. Not for someone like me. So I searched his face for the tell. A smirk. A twitch. Some stupid joke waiting to follow, some sign that this was just another setup for disappointment. Another reason to wish I’d kept my walls higher.

But there was nothing.

No smirk. No shift in his eyes. No punchline waiting in the wings.

Just Babe. Still. Steady. His brows pulled together in that way he got when he meant something. When he wasn’t just talking, but offering pieces of himself.

And it scared the hell out of me.

Because for once, I wasn’t bracing for the fall. I was falling already.

And he was still there.

I blinked, shaking off the odd feeling rising in my chest, “You make it sound easy.”

“It’s not,” he said, turning to look at me for the first time. His eyes were soft but steady, “But it’s worth it.”

I looked away, the cigarette burning down between my fingers.

The words slipped out like they’d been hiding just beneath the surface, waiting for the quiet to let them breathe. I didn’t mean to say them—not like that, not so bare. But once I did, I couldn’t take them back. 

“I’m a mess, Babe,” I whispered, “You don’t get it. I push people away for a reason. I don’t know how to let anyone—you—care about me. I don’t even know if I can be loved the right way.”

And that was the truth. Not sharp, not defensive. Just tired.

I didn’t cry. Not yet. But something inside me shifted, like the first crack in ice when spring comes too early. My hands shook. My chest felt tight in that dangerous, aching way. The walls I’d built so carefully—out of silence, sarcasm, and sheer necessity—were starting to tremble under the weight of honesty.

And Babe saw it.

He didn’t move. Didn’t push. He didn’t offer some perfect fix or try to patch me up with empty comfort. He just watched me, eyes soft and steady, like he was seeing every piece of me start to come apart. Like he knew this was the moment I needed to crumble, and that trying to stop it would only make it worse.

He waited.

Waited for permission.

Waited for me to say it was okay—for him to reach out, to hold me, to be that quiet force I didn’t know how to ask for. He didn’t reach too soon. He didn’t flinch at my mess.

He just stayed, patient as ever, like he’d already decided I was worth it—walls and all.

Babe didn’t flinch. He didn’t reach for me, didn’t crowd me. He just spoke, low and certain, “I can’t fix you,” he said, “But I’ll sit with you while you fall apart.”

That’s what undid me. Not some grand gesture. Not a kiss. Not a confession.

Just that.

I felt the tears finally sting behind my eyes. And Babe just sat there beside me—silent, warm, steady. The only thing that didn’t feel like it might disappear.

And for the first time since the war began, I let someone see me fall apart.

And he didn’t look away.

My breath hitched, chest rising too fast, too tight. The cigarette burned down to the filter between my fingers, forgotten. I didn’t look away from him. Not this time.

As the tears welled up and finally spilled, I stared straight into Babe’s eyes—soft blue and unbearably open. He wasn’t scared of what he saw. He didn’t try to look past it or pretend it wasn’t there.

He held it. Like it meant something. Like I did.

And I didn’t mean to say it. God, I didn’t even think before the words tumbled out in a broken breath—

“Ed…”

It was barely more than a whisper, but I felt the shift the second it left my mouth. Felt it in him.

Something in his expression cracked wide open.

He blinked like he hadn’t heard it right at first—because no one called him that. Not here. Not in this place where everything had to be nicknames and armor and half-truths.

But I’d said it.

Ed.

His real name. The name I’d tucked away in the back of my mind, too personal to use, too intimate to say aloud. Until now.

His lips parted like he wanted to speak, but nothing came. Just a long breath. His hand moved—slowly, deliberately—reaching up like he couldn’t help it anymore, fingers brushing the side of my face, featherlight and trembling.

“You’ve never called me that,” he said, voice raw and quiet, like he was afraid if he spoke too loud the moment might break.

“I know,” I whispered, tears slipping over my cheeks now, steady and silent, “I just…I needed you to know this isn’t about Babe Heffron in, Easy Company. This is you. You, Ed. You stayed.”

His eyes glossed over then, and I could see it—how the name undid him the same way his kindness had undone me.

His name.

Ed.

It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t dramatic. It was quiet—so quiet he almost thought he imagined it. But it hit him harder than any shell ever could.

Babe Heffron had been called a lot of things since joining the war—Heffron, Babe, Philly, soldier, even hero once or twice. But never Ed. Not here. Not in this mud-soaked hell where real names felt like a luxury, like something you left behind with your old life.

But when she said it—when she said it—it was like someone pulled the air straight from his lungs.

Because it wasn’t just a name. It was trust. It was her letting him see the raw part, the real part, the part no one else got close enough to touch.

He stared at her, throat tight, and for the first time in a long while, he felt like he might break.

She was crumbling right in front of him, and all he could think was how desperately he wanted to gather her up, keep her safe, wrap his arms around every cracked, bruised part and whisper, You’re not too much. Not for me.

The war had taken so much from him—friends, innocence, sleep, peace. But this? Her trust? Her saying his name like it meant something?

That was a gift he didn’t know how to carry.

But he would.

God, he would.

He didn’t kiss me. Not yet.

But he leaned in, resting his forehead gently against mine, eyes closed like he was anchoring himself to the sound of his own name in my mouth.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered back, “Not now. Not ever, if you’ll let me stay.”

And in that war-torn silence, with the smoke curling around us and everything broken at our feet, I let him hold me.

And I let myself be held.

[urfavebookworm]

Stubborn hearts love the hardest

Pairing: (F) READER X KATSUKI BAKUGO

After a heated argument, you and Bakugo break up. Due to pride and stubbornness, neither apologised, even though neither one of you wanted to break up.

Warnings: cursing and harsh insults

Authors note: I see a lot of Bakugo break up stories where he is all sad and mournful, but that boy is angry, aggressive and explosive! I hope I was able to show that in this little oneshot. I Hope you guys enjoy!

The door rattled on its hinges as Bakugo stompted into the room, letting the door swing back to hit Midoriya in the face. Sighing, Midoriya and Todoroki walked into Endeavor’s Hero Agency behind him. The air was strung tight with tension as Bakugo slumped and walked silently over towards the changing room. 

Midoriya has suggested the three of them come to Endevor’s training agency to make use of the training facilities that Shoto had year round free access to, but always refused to use. Todoroki claimed he was “making a point” but Midoriya felt it was a crime not to take advantage of such high quality training facilities. Despite the excuse of wanting to practice some new attacks on Bakugo, there was an unspoken understanding between the three boys over the real reason they were here: to let Bakugo blow off some steam. 

Three months ago you and Bakugo had gone through a messy breakup which ended with a lot of screaming and door slamming. Everyone had expected it to blow over the next day, but instead three months had gone by in near silence as the two of you avoided eachother like the plague. Despite his complete refusal to admit that he was missing you, Bakugo had been clearly on edge and much more aggressive than usual, which made everyone around him uncomfortable. 

Deciding that a hardcore workout was the best way to let Bakugo work through his anger, both Todoroki and Midoriya had decided to join him. However, Midoriya felt all of the blood drain out of the body when he heard a familiar disgruntled voice call out “what the hell are YOU doing here?”

There you were, standing with a bag slung over your shoulder as you come out of a bathroom that was connected with the main lobby of the building. Shoto and Midoriya shared a look as Bakugo visibly tensed and crossed his arms “tch, I’m here  to train obviously” he shot back. “What are you doing here?” 

You don’t answer his question, opting instead to glance him up and down “yeah you could use it” you say, hoping to get under his skin. The effect is immediate. His face contorts in anger and he shouts “the hell do you mean by that, huh?”. You shrug casually, tugging your bag higher into your shoulder and attempt to wipe the satisfied smirk off of your face. Having succeeded in your mission in annoying him, you turn swiftly and walk over to the training room, swiping your access card through and disappearing through the door. 

Bakugo glares as you walk away and catches Todoroki giving him a look. “You have something to say?” He asks, his tone threatening. Immune to social norms Todoroki asks straight out “Do you miss her?”. Bakugo blanches, caught off guard. 

“Wh-What? No of course not! Why would I miss her?” He recovers quickly, turning his dark glare into Shoto. 

Midoriya steps in, hoping to shield Todoroki from Bakugo’s deteriorating patience. “No reason” he says quickly before continuing, “you’ve just been a little more… I don’t know, more intense than usual”. The blonde rolls his eyes and scoffs loudly “No I haven’t. You’re imagining things nerd” 

Midoriya makes an unconvinced noise low in his throat but doesn’t push on the topic, not wanting to have Bakugo fully lose his temper with him. 

The three of them walk into the training room, beginning to stretch and warm up. It doesn’t escape the attention of Shoto and Deku that as the training session progresses, Bakugo uses increasingly impressive attacks, letting out obnoxiously loud grunts and yells as he attacks the obstacles surrounding him. 

Bakugo takes inconspicuous glances back at you every couple of minutes, hoping expecting to catch you looking over at him, but much to his dismay you blatantly ignore him, too busy trying to perfect a move of your own. 

Taking a water break, Shoto observes Bakugo grow increasingly frustrated with the giant stone pillar in front of him. His hits become increasingly aggressive and he mutters to himself, glaring over at where you’re standing. Letting out a frustrated growl he lets out an explosion that completely obliterates it, sending stones flying out in all directions. Shoto briefly wonders if this training session is therapeutic for the blonde, or if being around you is only fuelling his anger. 

An unknown girl who is currently working out beside you calls over “Keep it down jackass, some of us are trying to focus”. A vein pops in Bakugo’s forehead as you giggle at the girl, obviously pleased. 

Bakugo wonders if this is a new friend of yours. She clearly doesn’t know who he is, seeing as how she carelessly called over to him as if he were a complete random. Was he not important enough that you should tell your friends who he was? Was he just a faceless ex boyfriend long in your past? The thought annoyed him more than he would like to admit and he ordered Midoriya to come over and work on doubles with him, needed a punching bag. 

The fight should be painfully one sided, with Bakugo high on energy, fuelled by his anger at being ignored but Midoriya gets a number of successful hits on Bakugo when he is distracted, glancing over at you obsessively. The room begins to fill as other people flood into the room, taking up position to train as well. It gets so crowded that Bakugo can only see the top of your head as you practice dodging a machine that throws large pieces of debris at you. 

After another 15 minutes you begin to pack up your bag and walk out of the training room, deep in conversation with the girl. You barely spare the boys a glance, simply giving Todorki a polite nod. 

You share a class with them, live in the same dormitory block with the rest of your classmates and can’t justify being rude to them just because they’re with Bakugo, who you would rather not see on a Saturday that has been relatively peaceful before you stepped out of the bathroom and almost body slammed directly into the one person who you did not want to see. 

If you were being completely honest, you had been just as surprised as all of your classmates when you and Bakugo didn’t get back together after your impromptu breakup. You tried to forget how for the first week after the argument you would sit up at night, waiting for the telltale shuffle of reluctant feet under your door, the quiet knock on your dorm room door and your moody boyfriend to stick his head in and mutter an apology. But it never came. You tried to pretend that you wouldn’t have thrown yourself at him immediately, forgiving him on the spot if he had. But you know deep down you would have. 

Instead, you barely saw him for the next two weeks, except in class. Even then, you sat on the other side of the classroom, two rows ahead of him so you weren’t even able to spare him more than a few longing glances during class, disguising them with a mask of cool indifference and nonchalance. 

You continued out the door without stopping to even glance at Bakugo, worried he would see the tiny flash of longing in your gaze. 

As soon as the door swings shut behind you Bakugo turns to Shoto and Deku. “DID YOU SEE THAT? THE CHEEK.” He yells, going so far as to stomp his foot like a petulant child. 

Midoriya widens his eyes at Todoroki, and the two boys try to prepare themselves for the inevitable explosion that is soon to follow. Bakugo mutters to himself as tiny embers flicker between his fingers “she- she just. THE FUCKING AUDACITY” he yells, filled with so much raw fury that he’s unable to form coherent sentences. 

Turning quickly away from them as if he’s about to throw up, he lets out an explosion that is so destructive, the entire room fills up with dark black smoke. 

Almost immediately, the other people in the room begin to cough and choke, quickly evacuating the room. Bakugo stands in the middle of the room, vibrating with anger and he lets out a brutal yell and kicks at the ground. Hearing something skitter away under his foot and follows the sound and leans down to pick something off the floor. 

“Fucking idiot” he mutters without any malice to himself as he turns on the phone, recognising your Lock Screen wallpaper. To avoid the temptation of checking what you have his name saved as in your contacts, he tosses the phone over to Deku who catches it, fumbling slightly. 

Bakugo scowls at both of them, seemingly daring them to annoy him. Deciding not to risk another explosion they stay quiet, and the three boys leave the room together. Midoriya hands the phone to Todoroki, who puts it in the back pocket of his trousers. 

Outside of the training room a worker is speaking in an apologetic tone to you. “I’m sorry miss but I can’t let you back in there. It’s a safety hazard, so the room as to be evacuated until the smoke clears.”

You groan in frustration and Bakugo smirks, clearly pleased that you’re being refused entry. You turn toward him, a notch between your eyebrows and cross your arms. “This is your fault, isn’t it?” You accuse. 

He throws up his hands, the image of innocence “why would it be my fault, huh?” He asks, not even bothering to hide the smug grin on his face. 

“Only you’re selfish enough to ruin everyone else’s training session for your own training” you accuse harshly. 

Bakugo pretends to clutch his pearls, feigning offence, but the glimmer of satisfaction at getting under your skin shines brightly in his eyes. “I was just doing what I always do. Not my problem the weaklings in there couldn’t handle a little smoke” he shrugs casually. 

You scoff and roll your eyes, leaning closer to him “yeah, ‘doing what you always do’ because that’s all you’re good for. You’re a damn one trick pony who never learns from his mistakes” you spit venomously. 

His eye twitches at your foul insult and he fights to keep the smirk on his face instead of letting it fall. 

“I ain’t no one trick pony” he says, his tone low. “You just don’t know me well enough to know” 

At this, you let out a guffaw of laughter, and look over at the boys to see if they’re hearing the same tomfoolery that you are. 

“You and I both know that’s not true.”

Bakugo crosses his arms and gets a determined look on his face, not wanting to admit that you’re right, “You don’t know shit about me, so shut your mouth before I shut it for you” 

“Oh I know plenty about you Katsuki” you start, crossing your own arms and staring at him defiantly. The use of his first name cracks like a whip in the tense atmosphere, causing him to flinch almost imperceptibly.

 “I know that you’re an arrogant ass who freaks out if his room’s a mess, despises when restaurants mess up your order and you can’t stand when you lose, because you think you’re a failure” you note, reminding him that you had learned the most vulnerable parts about him during our relationship.

You don’t stop there, taking a step closer to him as you stare him down. “I know you hate the rain because it messes up your hair, you love the smell of gasoline and you’re a secret fan of romcoms, but only if there’s an angry confession scene, because you think it makes it more authentic.” 

Bakugo’s face contorts further with every word that leaves your mouth, each reminder of how much you understood him hitting him like a punch to the stomach. 

“Shut up! You don’t get to act like you know everything about me!” He shoots back.

You shrug and a vaguely sour look crosses your face. “You’re right about that. Because I’ll never know why you decided to put your stupid hero training ahead of me and let some stupid argument get between us. Honestly, I had thought we were stronger than that. I guess you’re the ‘weakling’, isn’t that right Bakugo?” You say, hurt lacing your poisonous words as you referenced his use of ‘weakling ’ to describe him, hoping to cut him deep. 

With that, you spin around and leave, walking quickly to avoid him catching the heartbroken look on your face. Bakugo feels as if he’s been slapped in the face. Emotions swirl deep within his chest. Anger at your blatant insults and guilt at the reminder of how he had neglected you, abandoning your relationship without putting up much of a fight. 

Midoriya and Shoto are deathly silent behind him, both scared to say anything for fear of Bakugo completely losing his shit. Bakugo stomps away, headed towards an eating area. He gets food and sits down at a table, sulking. He picks at the food absentmindedly. 

Midoriya and Shoto follow behind him and stand beside the table.

“What are you going to do?” Shoto asks bluntly, sitting opposite the angry blonde.

“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m eating dipshit.” Bakugo responds, chomping down aggressively on the sandwich in his hand. 

Shotos frowns at his obliviousness (ironic). Deku sits down beside Todoroki and leans in to explain. “He means what are you going to do about (name)?” 

Bakugo's scowl deepens even further as Midoriy brings up your name. He stares down at his food, avoiding the gazes of both Midoriya and Shoto. He knew exactly what they were asking, but he was having a hard time admitting it, even to himself.

How the hell am I supposed to know?” He grunts “you two are the ones who are successful with the girls. I’ve only ever dated one and she’s batshit crazy” he mutters.

“You can’t ignore the fact that you obviously still care about her. Otherwise you wouldn’t be sitting here, sulking” Todoroki points out. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I couldn’t care less about her” Bakugo insists, chewing angrily. 

Midoriya rolls his eyes. “Kacchan, just admit that you miss her! You’re being so stubborn it’s ridiculous.”

Bakugo groans and throws back his head, “God, you two are worse than Kirishima” 

Todoroki glances over at Midoriya at the confirmation that they’re not the only two who have noticed Bakugo’s obvious regret over your breakup. 

“Come on Kacchan, it can’t be that difficult to admit you still care about her” Deku pushes. 

Bakugo leans close into them, his expression frustrated as be speaks in a low tone. “Yes it IS! Maybe not for you, Mr.”I have emotions falling out of my asshole”, but for some of us, admitting we still give a rat’s ass about someone who hates us is HUMILIATING”

Todoroki and Midoriya both look taken aback by his admittance, but quickly latch onto the crack in his armour. “I’m sure she doesn’t hate you! She’s probably just hurt and lashing out!” Deku assures him. 

“Well if I were to magically grow a pair of balls and admit it like you two want me to, what then? How the fuck am I meant to make it up to her?”

Midoriya excitedly kicks Todoroki under the table, pleased that they’re making progress. 

“Well, you could start by apologising for upsetting her and whatever it is you guys broke up over. Not a half hearted apology, but a real one that tells her that you’re serious about making amends.”

Bakugo glares half heartedly at midoriya but doesn’t say anything. 

“And then, after the apology, you need to show her that you're willing to change. Prove to her that you're serious about making things right and putting in the effort to be better. Actions speak louder than words, y'know” he continues. 

“why did you two break up?” Todorki asks bluntly, cutting off Midoriya from continuing. 

Bakugo clenches his fists, his expression darkening at the memory. Despite his anger, he doesn't ignore the question. "It was a stupid fight that spiraled out of control. I said something stupid, she took it the wrong way, I overreacted and it just escalated from there. By the end of it, she told me to drop dead and that she never wanted to see me again."

Shoto raised his eyebrows in surprise “wow. I can see why you two got along so well”. Bakugo clenches his teeth, not amused. “Shut up Icy Hot” he seethes. 

Shoto grins back at him. “Well was it just one argument that caused you guys to break up? Or had you had a few leading up to the final one?” 

Bakugo sighs, running a hand through his hair in frustration "We had a few fights before the final one, but they were all just small disagreements. Nothing that couldn't have been resolved, if someone hadn't been so damn stubborn."

Midoriya hides a smile behind his hand, finding it ironic that Bakugo was annoyed because you were stubborn. “That was one of the things you liked about them though, right? Their refusal to back down”

Bakugo clamps his mouth shut but eventually relents. “Yes it was one of the things I liked about her. It also drove me crazy half of the time” he admits. 

“After small arguments, how did you guys make it up to eachother?” Todoroki asks. 

Bakugo leans back in his chair, contemplating his answer. He sighs again, running a hand through his hair "Usually? We'd just avoid each other until one of us caved and apologized. She was too damn stubborn to be the first to apologize, which meant I usually ended up apologizing first"

“So why didn’t you apologise this time?” Shoto asks, curious. 

Bakugo glares at Shoto again, not enjoying being pestered with these questions, but he knows that he can't avoid them. "Honestly, I don't know. My stupid pride just got in the way, I guess. I thought she'd eventually come to her senses and apologize first. But she never did" 

Bakugo falls silent for a while after that, lost in his own world. Internally he’s running in circles like he has many nights since the break up, wondering if there was a reason you hadn’t apologised. Were you not sorry about what you had said to him? Did you not want to get back together? Had the argument broken something that couldn’t be repaired? 

Midorya frowns sympathetically at Bakugo. “I think it can be salvaged” he says optimistically. Shoto responds “we can’t be too optimistic just yet, she seems really annoyed and completely ignored you earlier. Do you have any idea if she’s seeing anyone else right now?” He asks. Bakugo shoots daggers at Shoto and the cold bucket of water he just threw over Bakugo. 

The blonde clenches his teeth together as he imagines you with another guy. He can’t stand the thought. His blood boils at even the mention of another guy being with you. “No, she’s not” Bakugo responds. 

“Ok” Shoto responds, not questioning Bakugo’s completely confident answer. 

Bakugo grunts and looks away “But even if she is, why would I care? It's none of my business who she's with"

Shoto and Midorya both groan in exasperation, slumping against their chairs. “Bakugo” Midorya says, his tone serious. “Do you want (name) to move on and date someone else?” 

Bakugo signs and mutters “no”, suddenly very interested in the table. 

“Do you want them back?” Deku pushes. Bakugo battles with his pride before responding with a slightly more confident “yes”, looking up to look Deku in the eye. 

“Then you have to give up the nonchalant act. The only reason she went back to you during previous arguments was because you proved that you wanted her back. When you didn’t apologise this last time, she probably assumed you were sick of her.” Midorya explains. 

Bakugo listens to Midoriya’s suggestion and recognises he might be correct. Your past breakups had followed a similar pattern where Bakugo would always come apologise to you and there was a chance that when he didn’t the most recent time, you assumed the worst.  "So you're saying I need to be the first one to apologize, just like always?" He asks, indignant. 

Midorya runs his hands through his hair. “YES. And if the fact you’re the one always apologising, you need to communicate that with her! She isn’t magically going to know that it upsets you if you never tell her”

Bakugo scoffs, a part of him still reluctant to admit that his pride had ruined things for him. "So you're saying that we need more 'communication', huh?"

“YES!” Midoriya enunciates.

“Alright, fine!" Bakugo relents, his pride slowly crumbling under Midoriya's words and reasoning. "So how the hell do I go about communicating with her?" 

“Look, pretend Shoto is (name) and do it how you would go about it, and then I’ll give you tips on how you can improve” Midorya suggests.

Bakugo looks distastefully at Shoto but decides to give it a shot, not wanting to refuse the help he clearly needs. 

Shoto stares at Bakugo blankly, waiting for him to start. When Bakugo stays silent and the two of them are essentially just having a stare down, Shoto prompts “what do YOU want?” imitating your voice. 

Bakugo bristles at that, his temper flaring briefly at hearing you imitated "Stop that" he growls. 

Shoto rolls his eyes, smirking slightly. “What do you want?” He asks in his regular voice. 

Bakugo grits his teeth at the question and his expression darkens. He looks away and doesn't respond. 

“BAKUGO THAT IS NOT FUCKING COMMUNICATION” Midoriya yells. 

“SHUT UP I KNOW THAT, YOU DAMN NERD" Bakugo snaps back, irritated. His hands clenched into tight fists. 

“Try again. Remember, if you don’t do this right you might lose her forever.” Midorya says. With a deep breath, Bakugo nods, trying to calm and compose himself. He knows that Midoriya is right, he might losing you forever if he doesn't say what he really wants to say. 

Shoto tried again. “What do you want?”

Bakugo takes a deep breath, then hesitantly says "I want to talk to her. I want her to give me another chance..."

Todoorki sighs. “Bakugo I’m pretending to be (name) right now. You have to say it TO me, not ABOUT me”

Bakugo scowls at Shoto's instruction and takes another deep breath. His cheeks redden in slight embarrassment but he speaks. "I...I miss you...I want to talk with you. I want another chance..."

Shoto crosses his arms and raised an eyebrow “why should I give you another chance?” He challenges. 

Bakugo grimaces at the question. “Because I was an idiot, and I know I ruined things. But I want to make it up to you. I want you to give me another shot and let me fix things. Because… because I still care about you. 

Midoriya nods encouragingly “that’s great Bakugo! Good communication” 

Bakugo responds “Yeah, yeah whatever, it's not that big of a deal", the tips of his ears pink. 

“Overall I think you have it worked out pretty well. It’s not your first argument, which definitely works in your favour. Just remember to be patient with her and don’t expect her to be fully compliant. She’s probably pretty untrusting of you right now, but with enough time and patience, I think you have a proper chance of winning her back!” Deku encourages.  

“At least you’ll have a reason to approach her, so she won’t immediately incinerate you” Shoto says causally. The boys looks at him in confusion. 

“What the hell are you talking about Icy Hot?” Bakugo asks as if Todoroki had spontaneously started speaking Russian. 

Todoroki reaches into his pocket and pulls out your phone, dangling it in front of Bakugo. “You can return this to her, and then apologise.” He explains. 

Taking a deep breath Bakugo stands up from the table, ready to chase you down and apologise. 

Bakugo finds you pacing in the lobby, clearly anxious over having lost your phone. Bakugo approaches you, sticking his hands in his pockets to have something to do with them. “Eh… hey” he opens and immediately cringed at his ridiculous greeting. 

You stop dead in your tracks and stare him down. “What do you want.” You’re clearly lacking patience and not in the mood for   another argument. 

Bakugo is put off by your icy tone but steels himself and asks, “Can we talk?”. When you just stare blankly at him, he continues in a quieter tone “…please?” 

Your reluctance crumbles and you nod, saying “Let’s go somewhere more private.” 

He follows behind you as you lead him away. You try to study his expression and he fights to school his features and hide his nerves. 

Your mind works at a million miles an hour, wondering where this conversation could possibly lead. The two of you find yourselves at a bench in the large expanse of gardens, and you eye Bakugo suspiciously as you sit down. 

Bakugo searches for the right words and eventually decides to just go with the most straightforward option. “Look I…. I need to apologise to you” he says. 

Your eyes widen slightly in surprise and you cross your arms, leaning forward and giving him your full attention. 

“I know was an ass, and I completely messed things up. I’m sorry” he says.

“Why are you sorry?” You push, needing a full apology. 

He gathers his words, staring at you determinedly. “I was selfish and ignorant. I completely ignored how my actions affected you, and didn’t try to see your side of the argument. I prioritised my work over you, instead of making it clear to you that you’re the most important thing in my life. I said some horrible things to you and I hurt you, which I never should have done. I didn’t intend to hurt you, but I did and I didn’t do anything to make up for that fact. So… I’m really sorry.” 

You nod slowly and absorb his words. “Ok…. I’m not sure I can fully forgive you yet but… I’m glad you apologised” you say softly. 

Bakugo breathes out a sigh of relief, willing to accept any small piece of forgiveness you are willing to offer him. 

A couple of seconds pass in silence and you shift to get up and leave, thinking this is the end of your conversation. Seeing that you’re about to leave Bakugo blurts out “wait!” 

You stop moving, a sliver of hope in your expression. Bakugo hadn’t planned for the words to leave his mouth, but he takes a deep breath and says “I want to ask you something else”. 

“Go on then” you respond, feeling a flicker of hope in your chest as you hold your breath. 

“I know you probably hate me right now, but..I was wondering if you'd be willing to give me a second chance?” 

You wait for two seconds, certain you misunderstood him or he misspoke. When he doesn’t immediately take back his words, you nod quickly. “Yes.” You say firmly. “Yes I would” 

Bakugo looks at you in surprise, his eyes widen in shock at your response "Wait, what? I was expecting you to laugh in my face or something"

Your entire body sags in relief as you lean back against the bench. “I thought that you hated me. I was certain you were done with me when you didn’t come apologise to me after our argument.” You admit sheepishly. 

Bakugo stares at you in disbelief as you talk, shock in his expression "Wait you... you thought I didn't care? That I hated you?"

“yes?” I say, laughing at his shock. “You didn’t speak a word to me except in grunts for 3 months. I assumed you were tired of my bullshit.” 

Bakugo groans at his own stupidity and the way he had been blinded by his own pride. No wonder you had thought he hated you. 

“I’ve been so bored” you admit, flopping back against the bench. Bakugo glances at you in surprise. “Yeah?” He asks. 

You nod, frowning as you remember the past 3 months. 

“Nobody gets my humour like you do. Or challenges me to the same level in one on one combat. And I’ve gotten so used to you picking out what movies we watch that I’ve basically just been lying up in my room for ages, staring at a wall. Even my social life has died a little. Every time I walk into a room, everyone expects you to follow behind me, and when you don’t, there’s this awkward moment when people aren’t sure if they should ask what happened or not” you admit. “I’m just so used to having you in my life that it’s… really weird when you’re not. It’s like waking up and every piece of furniture in your house has been moved a couple of inches away from its normal position.” You explain. 

“Then why didn’t you reach out to me?” He asks, confused. 

“I was so embarrassed!” You start, “I told you to drop dead! I had multiple dreams where I would show up to your room to apologise and I would find you curled up with Momo or Ochako and you would just laugh in my face”

Bakugo looks at you with disbelief written all over his features. “Seriously? You thought I’d just immediately move on to them as soon as you stepped out of the picture?” 

“I dunno” you shrug “I guess I felt kind of insecure when you left. Because I knew you had no problems with my personality, I decided you must have broken up with me because you weren’t attracted to my body” you admit quietly. 

Bakugo continues to stare at you, absolutely baffled. Did you seriously think he wasn’t attracted to you?? “So, is that why you thought we broke up?” He asks.

“Well not the full reason, but like.. part of it I guess” you respond awkwardly. 

He runs a hand through his hair. “No, I broke up with you because I was an idiot who couldn’t communicate, not because I found you unattractive” he clarifies. 

You smile wonkily at him, amused by him putting himself down so easily. 

“What’s that look for?” He asks, leaning his arm along the back of the bench. 

“It just feels like a while since I’ve heard you admit to having faults” you tease, grinning. 

“Oh yeah? At least I can admit to my faults, unlike somebody” he jokes. 

You shrug and dramatically flick your hair “I don’t have any faults” you retort. 

“And people think I have a big ego” Bakugo responds, raising an eyebrow. you let out a gasp, pretending to be offended and push playfully against his chest. 

“The cheek!” You exclaim. 

“Well you successfully damaged my ego the past few weeks so don’t you worry” you continue, elbowing him and pretending to wipe a tear from your eye.

He rolls his eyes, his expression fond "Good. Maybe being brought down a peg was exactly what you needed"

When you move to slam into him again, he lifts his arm to wrap it around your shoulder and trap you against his side, hugging you. “I like it better when you’re not glaring at me” he says quietly. 

“Haha” you say sarcastically as you lean further into his hug. 

“There it is” he grins lovingly “that attitude I missed” 

[yuwuta]

f2l with katsuki but there’s nobody who rides harder for you two being a couple than izuku. not in a weird pining threeway kind of way, just genuinely, from the bottom of his heart, he’s always believed you two should be together. he’s watched you two growing up, he’s chased after you two, he’s seen the way you both lean into each other and still find space to pull him in, too. he thinks you and katsuki deserve each other, he knows you two are meant for each other. it’s excruciating for izuku to watch you two not realize it for so long, heartbreaking to watch kacchan figure it out but not say anything, and the worst pain of all is watching you date other people because you’re too stubborn to realize your soulmate has been right next to you your entire life. it’s exhausting, and izuku is bitter about it.

and petty. whenever you mention you have a date, his response is always “is it with kacchan?” “huh? no, it’s—” “that’s too bad then.” he pretends not to remember any of your dates’ names and somewhere along the way he just stops pretending and really doesn’t care to learn them. he’s sweet and all smiles with everyone else, but the second someone other than katsuki is interested in you, there’s a straight frown on his lips. he’s out for drinks with katsuki and he’s noticed some guys eyeing him from across the restaurant, so izuku goes to greet them while katsuki is in the bathroom, all bright smiles and hero facade beaming as he signs the shorter one’s baseball cap with a sigh, “kacchan is handsome, right? you should see his girl, she’s stunning too,” capping the sharpie and any potential plans for flirting for the evening. he’s spent many nights gossiping with mitsuki and inko about you two, crying about how seeing you two dating other people is harder than any other mission he’s ever been sent on.

to a certain degree, he can respect the pining. he can understand the hesitation to make such a big change in a relationship that’s so foundational in your life. but, sometimes izuku just wants to shove the two of you in a locker and keep you in there until you decide to be together. he spends so much time with his chin in his palm, sighing with such yearning for a relationship that isn’t even his own. his eyes are soft right now, watching you and katsuki in the communal kitchen of the agency. there’s a slight glare shining through the glass walls, but he can see your smiles bright as day. you lean with your back to the counter, stirring your tea mindlessly as katsuki faces you, arms crossed but posture relaxed, no doubt saying something to rile you up judging by the slick grin on his face. you’re much shorter than him now, but izuku remembers the days when you were taller than both of them back in second grade. he thinks the height difference panned out nicely; kacchan could lean down and kiss you right now. izuku wishes he would. they only keep that tea in the cabinets for the days you decide to visit, and katsuki only teases to hear your sharp tongue counter him. he must be in a particularly good mood today—or maybe, he’s happy because you’ve visited—judging by the way he throws his head back with a hearty cackle after you’ve said something to him. that’s good, hopefully you’ll keep his spirits up when they leave for patrol later. izuku gets so caught up in his daydreaming that he’s startled when there’s a knocking on the glass, and now you’re next to it smiling at his startled face and waving to him. he looks at you, then back to katsuki, who’s shadowed you to the glass wall, hovering protectively like he always has. izuku shakes his head in disbelief, but waves back. he finds the glass fitting, a window he’s looking into. he just hopes the scene changes to something more romantic sooner rather than later.

[b6d11f]

at my best, I'm a sacrificial lamb at my best, I am something you could handle

[angelicoutcomes]

Everyone needs a someone ୭⋆

Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!bau!reader

Summary: After a particularly draining case, Aaron is there to comfort you.

Warnings: Mentions of a case, talk of toxic family relationships, no use of Y/N, sad lonely reader, yummy comforting Hotch, friendly banter, first kiss hehe, blossoming friends to lovers, no existing relationship, pure fluff!

A/N: This is my third one shot of this reader/Hotch dynamic. I think I’ll leave it at this and pursue new aspects of Aaron Hotchner fics. I promise it’s a cute ending point. (Also rushed proofreading, sorry for any mistakes..)

Thank you for all the support since the start of my writing journey! I can’t to grow further and explore more characters, tropes etc..

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

It had been a weak case. A long gruelling week.

One with countless victims, grieving families and scarring hearts. All things that have unfortunately, become a normal occurrence in your field of work.

Still, this case stirred a new realisation upon you. You tried to not let it get the best of you. Hiding your emotions behind tight smiles and nods of assurance.

You masked it well, only letting it dwell in your chest like a heavy weight of pressure.

Normally when something brings you dread, guilt or utter loneliness, you feel it in your throat. Like it’s trying to burrow its way up into existence through the words you speak.

Sometimes these emotions dwell behind your eyes, as if tears are the only way you let yourself express.

To an untrained eye, your smile would be adequate, soft and bright. With a team of skilful profilers, this is not the case.

Normally, you’d find a way to keep a positive airiness to the space surrounding you. (Unless it’s a horrid crime scene, of course.) It’s a small coping mechanism you carry. There’s a void of darkness and you always push yourself with the need to be the light.

A rather simple action you carry out to achieve this would be bringing the “community comfort blanket” on the jet with you.

This is a fluffy blanket you make sure accompanies the team through every case. It’s left on the jet and funnily enough, always ends up being used by someone. Albeit, mostly yourself as you have unpredictable body temperature changes.

In your eyes, a must do to achieve this airiness is making sure everyone is heard. Even if this ends in you neglecting your own need to be heard.

Everytime the team would ask you if you were okay this case, your vague answers would never satisfy.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Sparky?” Penelope asks you on the phone.

She’s not even here with the team this case. Giving you the conclusion that her and Derek have been gossiping. Yes technically it’s more of a wellbeing check on you than gossiping, but in your books they tie hand in hand.

“Yes Pen, I promise it’s okay.” You say through the phone, balancing it between your shoulder and ear as you pack back up your go bag in the hotel.

“Well as an extra precaution how about a bit of wine in mine this weekend, oh of course it can’t be on Saturdays though…” She replies, you see exactly where this is going.

Ladies and gentlemen here comes the fierce ring of Penelope Garcia banter. “I mean it’s unfair of me to cut into your weekly Aaron and Jack ice cream slash soccer dates.” She continues in a sly manner.

You try to extinguish this conversation by dismissing her in an unamused tone. “Very funny Penelope.”

“Well we technically could do Saturday night but any day now that fine like of ‘friendship’ you have with Papa Hotch will slip into something more.” She charges back strong.

“Excuse you, Ms Garcia! What on Earth is that supposed to mean.” You reply with faux shock.

“Oh no need to act innocent Sugarplum, if I was best friends with my boss in the way you and him are, I’d be fantasising for sure.” This makes you quirk an eyebrow.

At this point, it doesn’t shock you that she could say something so out of the box.

After successfully digging yourself out of that conversation, you realised that it was the happiest you’ve let yourself feel since the beginning of this case.

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

From the drive to the airport, boarding the jet, and landing back in the office, you have been asked five times if you’re alright. Two by Emily, One by Hotch, Once by Spencer and Derek at the same time and one from JJ too.

Each time you replied with a small reassuring smile and the same sentance , “Yeah, it was just a hard case.” No one could really argue with this because it’s true. The case was exhausting on everyone.

In all honesty though, you’re not feeling alright. Shock horror.

This case just erupted something very raw in you. It hurt to see victims you relate to.

It’s even worse when you give them a listening ear in PD waiting areas with stale coffee, dying potted plants, bleach lighting and no ventilation.

Why? Because then you gain a personal connection with them and let yourself bask in the darkness of the reality they are facing.

Time was ticking slowly as you still sat at your desk, Go bag tucked neatly beside it. Others had left, as it was 6:03, time to clock out was technically an hour ago.

You’re still stuck at your desk staring into nothing. All work needing to be done was complete and up to date.

That’s not why you’re still here. It’s simply the fact you know that if you go home now, you’ll be dragging these consuming emotions with you. Normally you try leave them in the paperwork, and be content with the fact the case is solved and sorted.

“I’m heading home, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Rossi says as he rounds by your desk.

You give a passing goodbye, mind too preoccupied to manage more.

Stopping infront of you, he sighs. Pulling a chair over to sit beside you. “Whatever it is that’s got your mind tangled in this mess, you can’t bottle it up.” He says, with soft words, hoping they land gracefully and don’t crash.

“I’m fine Rossi, I promise it’s nothing.” You say with a hopeful smile, you know deep down that this is just a silly dramatic moment in the long run.

“Im sure you are, but all I urge of you is to find an outlet.” Rossi stops shortly before continuing, “I may not be able to be that outlet for you, but I think we both know someone who would be.”

He looks away from you, directing his view to a certain someone’s office. You open your mouth, ready to argue before he speaks ahead of you.

“You don’t need to say anything, just know that Aaron can be that person.” He finishes, getting up to carry on his original path of leaving the bullpen.

“Thank you.” Is all you seem to be able to say. As he nods and continues to walk.

With a weary sigh, you pull your head into your hands. Here comes the wave of unending thoughts.

A vulnerable part of you yearns for someone who understands you. After years of feeling isolated, like a drifting iceberg that seems to catch the wrong tide, maybe you do need someone.

You dismiss yourself, deflecting on how dramatic this sounds. It’s nothing more than the luteal phase blues. You’re an empathetic person by nature. You carry everyone else’s burdens on top of your own.

This is what you’re feeling. The exposure of others pain is carried through you subconsciously.

Always has been like this. When you were younger, a childhood friend would invite you to go fishing in a nearby lake with herself and her uncle. It was their weekly outing together.

You only attended once, because you bawled over the fish caught. Not because it died and would be that night’s supper.

You cried for the family of the fish, for its hypothetical children that would now have to grieve the disappearance of their mama fish.

You kept that fish family in your prayers at the next mass service you were forced to attend, one of many in your youth.

Shaking off the random thought, you found yourself nostalgic. Which is silly since your youth was home to mostly pain.

A sad, heavy sigh left your lips. Unburying your head from your hands, you look towards Aaron’s office. The light was on but blinds were closed.

With a grumble of defeat, you make way up the small set of steps to his door.

A moment of hesitation was had before you softly knocked. Hotch’s small grumble of approval could be heard.

You make your way through the door, and without looking up, Aaron says “I’m nearly finished up my work but if you need more time I can put on another pot of coffee.”

Feeling small, you don’t reply. A heavy silence weighs in the air, he finally looks up. You stand awkwardly at the door with nothing to say.

You’re not good at this whole someone as an outlet thing. Normally a tub of ice cream seems to do the trick.

Some sort of acknowledgment seems to cross him. Like a neon sign points towards you with the phrase ‘I’m not alright’ etched into it.

Must be quite obvious to be honest, with the look he’s giving you.

He’s about to say something but you jump the gun before him. “Please don’t ask me if I’m alright, Aaron.” You plead in a whisper of a voice.

“Would you like to talk about it?” He asks, dropping everything he was doing at his desk and standing up. Not one bit of this sentence sounds forceful or pushy as he voices it.

Not trusting your words in this moment, you slowly shake your head as to say yes. He approaches you, closing the door beside you swiftly before planting infront of you.

The close proximity of you two would have Penelope screaming ‘I told you so!’ in a boastful manner.

Your eyes close briefly as you push yourself to find the right words. “I’m not good at talking about stuff, and I’m not good at approaching people either..” You ramble, trying not to look up at him.

He radiates warmth, with a subtle of hint of cologne that you secretly love.

“Well, you got this far so that must be a good start.” Aaron replied, trying to lighten the mood.

In a passing moment of silence you try to reassure yourself. Aaron is a good man, he’s an excellent person, boss and dad. You can trust him.

“I like to leave my work worries and mindset in this building, I hate bringing it home with me.” You start, trying to explain your ways for him to understand. “But I can’t leave this here, I’ll bottle it and wrestle with it all night.”

Aaron nods along supportively, urging you to continue as he guides you to the couch in his office.

Sitting down comfortably beside him, he places a reassuring hand on top of yours. You’re too caught up in thoughts to realise this action.

“It’s so silly Aaron, and I know I’m just being dramatic.” You sigh in defeat, flush with embarrassment.

“Don’t downplay your emotions, it’s not silly at all.” Aaron reassures, wanting you to continue.

This is hard for you, he gets that. This is another one of your high security walls crumbling before him willingly. It takes time.

“It’s just, when I was talking to one of the victims..” you start, huffing away the sentence before Aaron gives your hand a light squeeze of encouragement. “She’s so lonely, her family have shone her out and shes in such a time need.”

You feel a build up of emotions behind your eyes, trying to manifesting into tears. “Aaron, I was in her shoes, it’s so painful.” A tear or two finally slip, that sentence making it feel real.

Aaron knows you don’t want to be fed some sort of soothing comment along the lines of , ‘it’s okay, don’t worry.’ Simply because you wouldn’t believe it.

Gently, he pads his thumb across your cheek, wiping away your soft tears.

“You feel so much for so many people, and open your heart to anyone who is hurting.” He starts, “You might not realise, but the time you took to be with that girl in such a time of need shines light on this beautiful heart of yours.” His kind words bring another tear to fall.

Cradling your cheeks in his palms, he continues, “You take on the burdens of the world, but I want you to know, that girl will be okay. She has found people who support her and will love her because of the work you done.”

This wasn’t an exaggeration, you made sure she had someone to fall back on before leaving. Turns out her godmother living up the coast was more than welcome to take her in. She wouldn’t have been contacted if you didn’t address your concerns.

“Every part of me wishes you had someone like that when you were her age.” His palms still on your cheeks, “Please let me be here now.”

The part of you, blocking the inevitable cascade of tears, breaks down. You let out a small sob as you nod in agreement, trying to say ‘I’d like that.’ Aaron wraps his arms around you, bringing you to his chest.

This was all you needed before you broke down completely. You felt safe in Aaron’s arms. It had been a while since you had a proper cry, this felt like layers and layers of bottled pain finally being set free.

Hotch whispered small words in your ear, “Its okay to cry, let it all out.” and “I’m here, I’ll always be here.”

You don’t know how long you sat there, curled into the warmth of Aaron’s chest. Eventually you calmed down, letting out nothing but small hiccups instead.

Once again, Hotch cradled your face. “Never feel hesitant to come to me, whenever, at anytime, okay?” He wore a serious expression, urging you to agree.

You give a small faint nod, he wipes away the last few stray tears as they weave a path down your face.

Whispering quietly, “Let’s go, work can wait until tomorrow, I’ll drop you home.” Nothing in you fights his request. Probably because you’re mentally at your weakest right now, or because of the ever growing crush you have on this man.

Silently, you make your way to the elevator. Aaron keeps a hand on your shoulder, guiding you gently.

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

The drive to your apartment is peaceful, no talking is needed to understand one another. The radio softly hums as you lean against the window. Hotch looks over at you a few times, making sure you’re okay.

Aaron sees the small shiver you give off, a dead giveaway that you’re cold. Silently, he turns up the heat.

“Aaron” you call out, looking towards him. He gives you a hum of acknowledgement, signalling to you that he’s listening.

“Will you..stay for a while.” You ask, not wanting to be alone right now. “Unless you have to get home to Jack or you don’t want to I understand that.” You ramble on.

“Don’t worry, Jacks in Jessica’s for the night since we are home a day earlier than expected, I’ll stay.” He says, giving you a smile.

Pulling up infront of your house, Aaron parks his car and climbs out as you do so. This would be the first time he steps foot past the entrance hallway of your home.

Walking through into the kitchen with Aaron hot on your tail, he asks “How would you feel about a bowl of ice cream right now?”

You’ve mentioned in passing in the past that you always have a tub of ice cream on hand, no matter the weather.

“Yeah, that sounds nice.” You smile lazily at him.

“Go get into something comfy and I’ll get the ice cream, sound like a plan?” Aaron asks, already edging towards the freezer.

You nod in agreement before trotting up the stairs.

When you come back down after getting into your go-to oversized worn out college T-shirt and tracksuit bottom combo, you see Aaron sitting on your couch.

He has taken off his blazer and was in the middle of rolling up his sleeves, his arms were flexing as he did so. It was so fucking hot, your brain was stuck in the gutter.

Waving off those thoughts, you plonked down beside him with a huff. Stretching out and getting comfy as you look over to him.

With no words, he hands you a bowl of gooey brownie ice cream. You give him a wide smile and a thank you.

You both fall into an amusing conversation, about anything and everything. The jokes shared are cheering you up immensely.

Some time later, seconds of ice cream are dished out as you sit on your kitchen counter. Aaron is stood beside you digging the spoon into the ice cream tub, getting every last ounce of the chocolate goodness.

You are letting out a chesty laugh from Aaron’s previous story. Once he had collected Jack from a play date, with terror as he found Jack and his friend covered in Chocolate.

Apparently they both had unsupervised fun melting left over chocolate in the microwave. Jacks friend’s mother is a baker and had just finished a big boxed order of rich double Belgium chocolate mousse.

“Safe to say he was Jack’s best friend from that day on.” He finished the story, handing you a bowl of ice cream.

Your hands touched briefly, a second longer than needed.

“I know this’ll sound cheesy Aaron, but you’re probably one of my best friends.” You slip casually.

Why on earth did you say that. Something inside of you shrivels up from embarrassment.

“Only one of them? Here I was thinking I was your ultimate best friend.” Aaron says jokingly, mocking hurt as he clutches his heart.

You let out a relieved laugh at his joke, a smile beaming on your face. He stands over closer to you now as you place your bowl back on the counter beside you.

“All jokes aside, I do treasure our friendship above most things.” He says, such simple words made a small blush creep onto your cheeks.

Not trusting your words, you stretch out your arms to give him a hug. He immediately accepts, stepping closer to you, between your legs from where they dangle off the kitchen counter.

Hugs you share with Aaron aren’t awkward or polite in any means. They hold warmth and trust. Unspoken words filter through the tight space you share when embracing each other. Hugs like these confirm that you are not alone.

You both stay like that for a long minute. Finding comfort in one and other. Finally, you both break away, still inches from eachother.

An invisible force of sorts lingers, urging you two to close the gap. Slowly Aaron tilts his head towards yours, foreheads almost touching.

Your breathing gets heavy as you can feel his hot breath. You only break eye contact when your eyes subconsciously flicker down to his lips.

Like a magnetic pull, you inch closer and closer to him. Until finally, you meet each other half way.

At first, as your lips touch, it was delicate. You both felt unsure. But as Aaron slowly took control, padding his tongue cautiously across your lower lip, you both melted into each other more.

One of his large hands tangles through your hair as he palms your cheek softly. His rough fingers cradling your jaw.

You break away gently, foreheads still touching as your breaths mingled. Looking into his eyes, you smile. “I guess best friends was an understatement.” You say with a small hearty laugh.

He laughs with you, a look of admiration in his eyes as his hand still lingers firmly on your cheek.

“I guess you could say that.” He replies before leaning back in for another kiss. You laugh into it.

The relationship between Aaron and you is growing before your very eyes, but of course, Penelope was right all along.

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

[aventurineswife]

Hellooo! 

I’d like to request Mermaid!Aventurine X Avian!reader

One of readers wings gets injured by god knows what(idk man just set them on fire or something. totally the kindest option.) and they ended up near some little town by a lake. 

Reader is too stubborn to actually go and ask for help from the humans so they’re kinda just stuck lurking around nearby because they aren’t dumb enough to go too far out in the wild with injuries + the inability to fly.

Cue reader meeting Aventurine at some point, hates him at first for whatever reason, but ends up warming up to him(or at least starts tolerating him a bit) eventually after learning he’s basically also stuck here.

Reader didn’t really know mermaids existed(other fantasy creatures? Yeah. Mermaids? Nope.) so they honestly just thought that it was normal for these weird ‘fish people’ as they call them to be in a lake rather than an ocean(they honestly don’t see the problem. There aren’t as many dangerous creatures here as the ocean, and there’s still a lot of space for him to swim around right?)

I feel like I should make my own fanfic about this instead of requesting my ideas to someone but I don’t know the first thing about actually writing something good

Clipped Wings and Tethered Fins

Summary: After suffering a severe wing injury, you—a stubborn and prideful avian—find yourself stranded near a small lakeside town, unable to fly and too reluctant to seek help from humans. While lurking on the outskirts, you encounter Aventurine, an enigmatic and infuriatingly smug mermaid who seems just as trapped as you are. Initially, you despise him, but as he helps you with your injury, you begin to realize that perhaps you’re not so different after all.

Tags: Mermaid!Aventurine x Avian!Reader, Enemies to Reluctant Allies, Slow Burn, Injured Reader, Stubborn Reader, Banter & Snark, Aventurine Being a Menace, Hidden Vulnerability, Mutual Isolation, Forced Proximity.

Warnings: Mild Injury Description, Light Angst (mentions of pain, being stranded), Aventurine's Teasing, Minor Touching (Aventurine tending to your injury), Slow Relationship Development (from irritation to reluctant trust).

The sun hung low over the horizon, casting a golden glow across the serene lake, its waters mirroring the sky like a liquid canvas. The quiet stillness was occasionally broken by the soft rustling of the trees on the shore. You, however, were anything but still.

Your injured wing—a mess of scorched feathers and pain—hung limply by your side, each step you took sending pangs of agony through your body. You had no idea what had caused the fire that had scorched the wing. Was it the wind? A burst of magic from some distant god? Whatever the cause, the result was the same: you couldn't fly. You had been stubborn enough to resist asking for help from the humans in the nearby town. You knew they’d likely treat you like some freak of nature. They wouldn’t understand.

So, you lingered on the outskirts of their settlement, lurking among the trees, your feet brushing the earth as you tried to keep to the shadows. The world felt far too big with one wing useless and the other healthy but weighed down by your fear and pride.

It wasn’t until you heard the faint splash of water that you first noticed him.

He was a figure that seemed out of place—something akin to a reflection caught halfway between reality and the deep waters. At first, you thought you were imagining things, the shimmering of his tail in the sunlight. But there he was, rising from the lake with the elegance of a predator gliding through its domain, the dark green of his scales flashing in the light. His torso, beautifully sculpted and muscular, was partially exposed above the water as he leaned against a jagged rock, his face hidden by a low-hanging brimmed hat.

Your instincts told you to stay hidden. You weren’t in the mood to deal with anyone—especially someone who looked like he could be trouble. But curiosity gnawed at you, and against your better judgment, you found yourself edging closer, peering from behind the dense foliage. Your keen hearing picked up snippets of his musings, the tone of his voice sending a strange shiver down your spine.

"You know, one would think that after all these years of 'evolution,' humans would learn not to bother with the pointless games of politics. So dull, really." His voice was smooth, almost velvety, and oddly calming in the quiet of the evening.

You stiffened. “What the hell is that?” you muttered, eyeing the strange creature, this ‘mermaid,’ with skepticism.

He must have heard your words, for he turned his head, his gaze locking onto you with an almost predatory sharpness. His eyes gleamed, the black slitted pupils staring through the trees with uncanny precision. He studied you for a long moment before his lips curled into a soft, knowing smile.

"Not quite the most subtle observer, are we?" he said, his tone dripping with amusement, a knowing smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. "But then again, I suppose none of us are. Strangers often look before they speak. And you're no different."

You bristled, not expecting to be noticed so easily, and especially not by him. You had no patience for his teasing.

"I'm not here to chat with a... fish," you said, your tone sharp as you made to turn away. "I just don’t need your kind to be part of my problems."

His laugh followed you like an echo through the woods. "My kind, hm? And what exactly would that be, hmm? The aquatic type? Or are you merely referring to the fact that I'm much better at swimming than you are at flying?"

You froze mid-step, annoyed by his casual teasing and the fact that he somehow knew you couldn’t fly.

"Listen, I don't need your help, alright? Just stay in your lake and mind your business." You made to leave, but the pressure in your wing made it too painful to move swiftly.

Aventurine, as he introduced himself moments later, was swift to notice your struggle. "Ah, what's this? Seems like someone’s in need of a little assistance after all."

You tried to pull away, growling in frustration, but your injured wing refused to cooperate, dragging you back down. He approached you effortlessly, his sleek tail flicking through the water with a fluid grace.

“Don’t touch me,” you spat, your feathers ruffling defensively.

He tilted his head, observing you for a long, silent moment. "You're hardly in any position to turn down help, sweetheart." His tone was soft, the mocking edge now replaced by something else—something almost concerned, but wrapped in layers of calm indifference.

"I'm fine," you muttered, but there was no conviction behind it. You knew your pride was keeping you from seeking help, but you were too tired to keep pretending that it wasn’t hurting. The fire on your wing had left it stiff and useless, and your exhaustion was becoming too much to bear.

"You've got a choice, then." His voice broke through your fog of frustration. "You can either suffer in silence and try to fly with that wing in its current state... or you can let me help you."

You shot him a glare but couldn’t summon the energy to argue further. Sighing deeply, you slumped your shoulders and let out a reluctant, "Fine. Help me then."

Aventurine smiled—this time, the smile was genuine, though there was still that dangerous edge beneath it. "You’re welcome, I suppose." He stepped forward, his hands carefully reaching for your injured wing. You winced, but his touch was surprisingly gentle, far more so than you'd expected from someone who clearly enjoyed toying with you.

As his hands worked their magic, you couldn't help but notice how absurdly out of place he seemed in this tiny town. The lake was calm, the people around it unaware of the mermaid who called it home, and yet, here he was—trapped, just like you. You hated how he could so easily find solace in the quiet of the water while you struggled with your wing, but there was something undeniably captivating about him.

When he was done, he stepped back, eyes scanning your face. "You’re all patched up now. Not so bad, is it?"

You gritted your teeth, feeling a little better but still annoyed by the situation. "I still hate you," you muttered, but there was less venom in your voice than before.

Aventurine chuckled, the sound of it like the soft lapping of the water against the shore. "Hate is such a strong word, darling. Perhaps tolerance is a better fit?"

You rolled your eyes but found yourself unable to push him away anymore. Despite his irritating nature, you realized you didn’t mind his presence so much. Perhaps because you were both trapped in this small town. Maybe, just maybe, you'd both find a way out, but for now, the least you could do was stop fighting him.

"Fine," you sighed, letting the distance between you two shrink. "Maybe I’ll tolerate you for now. But don’t get used to it."

Aventurine grinned, sharp teeth flashing as he dipped his head in a mock bow. "Oh, don’t worry, sweetheart. I have a feeling you'll come around."

And for the first time since your wing was injured, you weren't entirely certain you wanted to run.

[ayyy-pee]

i feel like Satoru is the type to like dogs, but not wanna adopt one. especially a puppy. he doesn't want any more responsibility in his life than he already has. puppies need attention, affection and time that he just can't give to anyone but you these days...

...but he literally can't say no to you so he lets you anyway. and you adopt this cutie pie little puppy with big, round brown eyes that stare up at you and she's just so cute you can't breathe.

you name her boba, and she loves Satoru

and Satoru loves to pretend he couldn't care less about "the dog" as he refers to her. but over time, you start to find little things around the house that say otherwise.

a new toy here and there, squeaking loudly when it's only you and boba home (you find out they were hidden on Satoru's side of your shared closet) you confront Satoru about it and he vehemently denies getting "the dog" anything.

then there's very specific and very expensive treats that show up on the kitchen counter one day. and after having just a taste, boba is hooked and will no longer accept any other treats but those. Satoru shrugs when you ask about it then changes the subject.

there's the lavender colored collar that shows up around boba's neck one morning with a new heart shaped name tag and charm attached that jingles when she trots around the house. and apparently nobody knows where that came from either.

but the cherry on top is the day you come home late from work and find Satoru curled up on the couch, sleeping peacefully with the dog he never wanted snuggled tightly in his arms 💕

[isabeauwolf]

Law x Plus Size Nurse Reader 5

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

Chapter 5: Misunderstandings

You had seen Ikkaku in passing several times, even giving each other basic greetings, but this was the first time you two had actually sat down and talked.

The woman had dark brown curly hair, tied into a thick braid running down her back and light brown eyes.

You knew she was a part of Law's main team. An impressive feat in its own right since the renowned Surgeon would become busy with his own tasks and work, both his skills in the operating room and duties as the Chef and owner of the hospital itself.

After eating lunch and talking with an extra ten minutes to spare, you decided to ask Ikkaku for advice since she was closer to Law. "Has doctor grumpy always been such a pain in the ass?" You ask, lowering your voice and covering the side of your mouth with your hand. "I swear it feels as if he's even more of a grouch when I'm around."

Ikkaku's lips pressed into a thin line as she snorted through her nose, covering her mouth as a string of giggles slipped out. "Boy, you're as blunt and honest as they come, aren't you?"

"What's wrong with that?" You lower your hand and sip your drink, shrugging. "I hate lying, even white lies." Leaning your elbow on the table and resting your cheek in the palm of your hand. "Besides my poker face sucks."

Ikkaku hums and asks a question of her own. "So what happened early this morning?" Her eyes twinkled with interest, smile widening. "Heard you gave Cap a stern talkin' to and stripped down naked in front of him and the rest of the onlookers."

You blushed bright red and cringed. "I wasn't completely buck assed naked." You correctly, covering your heated face. "Still had my bra and underwear on. It was an impulse; I was hangry and tired." You sighed. "I don't get it. Law could have asked anybody else, but he kept pushing and pushing." You ranted. "I wanted to shut him up, wipe that stupid, smug and sexy assed smirk off his face..." Your eyes widened. "Shit. Forget I said that."

Ikkaku raised a brow, her smile widening into a smirk. "From what I've heard from Pen and Shachi you certainly are an interesting person." She reached over and lightly pat your hand. "Besides being confidant in your own skin like that takes a lot of guts." Her bright smile returning, it's genuine. "You aren't ashamed of your own beauty, which I think a lot more woman need in their lives." She pulls away. "It's inspiring really."

"Thanks." You lowered your hand and gave her a smile. "Took a lot of years to feel comfortable about my body not being like a super model. To learn to love myself first." You finished your coffee and sighed. "Self-love is best love, isn't it?"

"Hell yeah it is." Ikkaku stood and picked up her tray.

You followed, throwing away your trashed and returning the red reusable tray on the cart beside the trashcan.

Ikkaku pulled out a pen and small notebook. "Oh, here's my number if you ever want to talk, hang out or nag about Cap some more." She tears it off and offers it to you. "I know he can be a handful, but he's not all scowls, mopey, and emotionally constipated."

You took it. "You mean he can smile?" You joke, laughing. "And not look like his face is permanently frozen with the world's worst hangover and resting bitch face?"

You both laugh and cackle loud, drawing the attention of Penguin, Shachi and Law himself.

You tear off a piece of the paper and give her your number in return, smiling. "Here and thanks for talking with me. I appreciate it." You shoved you hand inside the front of your pocket, pulling out your phone. You had a few missed calls from both Nami and Robin, even Gramps. "I love my job. I love helping people." You explained, smile dimming. "It's because of my friends that I've worked so hard to become a nurse... and yet... it feels as if I've done something to keep pissing off Cap and I don't know what I did?" You admitted, grip tightening on your phone. "If he wants to fire me or has a problem with me, I wish...." You pause and sighed, frowning. "I wish... he'd tell me to my face instead of pussyfooting around and scowling about it."

That made all four of them pause. Then again, none of them could blame you for thinking such a thing about how the boss has been treating you. Out of the four, you knew Trafalgar Law the least. You picked up a few of his mannerisms, speech patterns and habits, but nothing more. Nothing too personal or intimate, nothing out of the norm for a boss and his coworker.

Ikkaku opened her mouth to offer encouragement when Law spoke first. "L/n may I see you in my office, please?"

You jumped in fright, half turning and meeting Law's molten silvers. "Jesus, Cap. Can you please not sneak up on me like a ninja or something." You place your hand over your heart and take a deep breath, trying to calm down. "Make some damn noise wouldya?"

"Sorry." He replied and nodded his head towards outside the cafeteria. "Follow me, please."

"Sure." You mutter, staring back at Ikkaku who offered you a thumbs up and a smile.

Well, shit. How much of my trash talking and bitching did he hear? Did you really overstep and push him too hard this morning and before lunch time? Was the dessert me offered you out of pity or sympathy? A good deed before shoving you out the door?

The more you thought about it. The larger your stomach dropped and knots twisting in your gut, anxiety crawling and spreading like tiny ants. Calm down. It's fine. It's all going to be fine. It's not the end of the world... if Law fires you today... right? Okay. You lied. It would suck so bad. Being fired by your crush would hurt worse than a papercut and getting lemon juice and salt dumped onto the wound.

In a flash you two were in front of Law's office.

Your eyes trailed up Law's back, licking your lips as you settled your nerves and clenched your fists tight. It's now or never. You took a deep breath and muttered sheepishly. "I'm sorry, Doctor Trafalgar." You closed your eyes, tears prickling at the corners.

You didn't see the taller man pause, his inked hand tightening hard on the door handle, muscles bunching and straining underneath his shirt. The complete definition of shock written all over his face as he twirled and snuck a glance at you. You were trembling and your eyes were closed, close to bursting into tears. Why?

Law swallowed, his heart ached in his chest and his face softening into a deep frown before remasking it. "What?" He cleared his throat and tried again. "What are you apologizing for, L/n?" Facing the door and opening it.

You opened your eyes, a trail of tears falling. "You..." You whisper softly, you sounded pathetic and broken even to your own ears.

"I'm what?" Law asked. Resisting everything in his body to remain standing perfectly still, in complete control and resist the need to reach for you and cradle you into his chest. Whisper sweet words until you calm down. Instead, he waited.

Waiting to hear whatever you had to say.

You sniffed, rubbing your cheek with the back of your hand. "You're firing me aren't you, Trafalgar?" Great, Law had been you cry twice today.

Law's eyes widened as his heartbeat stilled, and he forgot how to breath. "Wh-?" The Surgeon genuinely appeared confused, searching for any sign of a prank or a lie. He found none. You. You honestly believed that he was going to fire you. "Why?" He asked in a breathless whisper before speaking louder. "What could have possibly given you that conclusion?" His shock was replaced with anger, his jaw tightened as he took a deep breath and tried to bite back a seething glare. "Did someone mention something?"

You shook your head. "No, sir."

Law knew you were being polite and minding your manners. He's your boss. Your superior. You were using his last name and giving him proper respect. He knew that. And yet, it felt foreign and wrong coming from your mouth. The Surgeon was so used to your sassy comebacks and banter, your playful jabs and silly nicknames for him that hearing you call him by his last name didn't sit well with him.

Not at all.

It felt as if you two had gone back to level zero, two years back in time to when you first started working here.

He absolutely didn't like it.

He wanted bang his head against his office door. What the hell had you done to him? He should be the one apologizing to you. Not the other way around! Law had been an ass all day, though it wasn't his intention. He wanted to spend more time with you. Get closer to you. His pride and awkwardness got in the way, so Law had done what he'd always had whenever he was nervous... he'd become stiff, snarky and snippy. Even when he wanted to slap himself in the face or shambles himself away with his devil fruit.

He could work days without sleep, hours in the operating room or doing boring paperwork and re-reading his notes and textbooks until he was completely exhausted and yet... he couldn't tell you how he felt yet. He didn't want to push you. Here he was going it anyway.

Couldn't he do anything right? Or normal? Why couldn't you see that seeing you hurt, distressed or in pain hurt him too? Why did love and matters of the heart have to be so complicated, so messy?

Law sighed, running his free hand through his unruly thick black hair and opened the door wider before stepping aside, holding it open. "Just... Just get in and sit down, please, L/n..." He met your questioning gaze and noticed your hesitation. "I'm not firing you." He pressed gently as he could. "If I did, I would have done it on the spot and not in my office."

Oh, you heard stories alright of Law losing his temper and nearly cutting a guy in half for being a complete dick both to Law himself, his staff and coincidentally to you. You think that's the only time you had been Law so enraged, so murderous, losing his cool and his temper over something that guy had said.

You'd never forget a guy as huge and creepy as Law's adoptive Uncle Doflamingo Donquixote or his adoptive father and Doflamingo's younger brother, Rosinante Donquixote. Two giant blonde men with opposite personalities, both raising Law. Since both had no children of their own Law had been named their heir and successor to the Donquixote fortune and titles. Or so you've heard.

It's another reason why Doctor Trafalgar Law is so crabby, so guarded and closed off.

You don't blame him. You imagine a lot of people have tried to get closes to the Doctor to win his favorite or get connections to the big, feathered brothers through Law.

You only met them once or twice during the hospitals Christmas and New Years banquet on your way out the door after leaving work. Even as someone as tall as Law looked like a dwarf compared to those two.

Shaking your head you slowly walked inside Law's office, past him and sat down in one of the fancy, brown leather chairs. God, you hated these chairs. They made you feel fat, as if you were sitting inside a kiddy chair and feared you'd embarrass yourself and get stuck. Like you needed Law to help you get out of it. Oh yeah, real sexy. You scoot to the edge of the seat, literally a smidge of your ass touching the seat, pressing your thick thighs together and folded your hands into your lap, sat up-straight and prayed to God whatever the hell this was would go by fast.

---- End of Chapter 5 -----

I know, I know reader is dense as f and Law is overly stubborn, but don't worry it will be worth it! I promise! Did you like how I snuck in Doffy and Rosi? ;) I had to! Gimme your thoughts, my lovelies!

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

Want more Law x reader? I've got you!

Merman Law x reader Law x Pregnant reader

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[idyllwave]

stubborn heart ch. 13

yan!capitano x wife!reader

summary | or in which capitano is told he needs a wife. and he begrudgingly agrees.

cw ; light smut, oral (f receiving, fingering)

“Dearest Capitano, who is this?”

You flinched slightly at the way the woman spoke to you, but you managed to hold your ground.

“She is my-“

Before he could finish the woman had hugged his arm tight, her breasts practically pushing against his arm. You weren’t sure if you were seeing things correctly as you stood in front of the two. The woman regarded you for a moment, her eyes scanning you up and down before she tsked at you, “quite the servant you have if you let her prance around in nothing but her night gown.”

The woman then let her arm fall from his as she raised one of her hands to twirl a piece of her hair between her fingers.

“She is not my servant”

“I can see that, a whore then,” the snide remark left her lips like a whip as you took a step back, “and dearest Capitano?”

“…”

“Before I take my leave, will you be so kind as to offer me dinner.”

You felt someone pull at you from behind, most likely Atri as you found yourself in line with the other servants. But your eyes couldn’t leave Capitano. Not when your heart was hurting so much.

“Another time,” Capitano answered smoothly and woman grinned as she took a step closer to him and leaned in – her lips ghosting against the metal jawline to his helmet before she pulled away, “then I’ll be waiting for that next time,” she said with just as much confidence. Her perfectly painted lips curving into a sly smile as she sent him a wink before taking her leave. The double doors to the mansion had closed behind her the moment she left and you could see her carriage ride off in the distance through one of the windows.

The hall was silent before Capitano broke it into pieces.

“Leave us.”

The servants were quick to scatter to their respective hiding places, even Atri had left you to your so called husband. And when Capitano couldn’t hear another servant’s breath he looked down at you, “wife-“

“save it.”

You turned on your heel, you were hurt, but you recognized the feeling that welled up in your chest. It was bright, hot, and caught fire quickly. You were angry.

Capitano followed after you as you went up the stairs, but you didn’t acknowledge him as you went into your room.

You were angry, yes, but now wasn’t the time to be acting immaturely-

That woman flashed through your mind, your previous thoughts turned to ash as you went to your dresser and took out some of your clothes, “what are you doing.”

“Moving to a different room. I know you said not to expect anything, but I certainly wasn’t expecting that. So, until I’m actually considered your wife to other people then you can just bring that woman in here to sleep with you.”

Just as you had gathered enough clothes, Capitano blocked your path from the door which was when you realized he had already closed it. But that wasn’t going to stop you from leaving.

“Move.”

“Will you let me explain?”

“Explain what exactly? It was pretty obvious what was happening.”

“It wasn’t my intention to hurt you.”

“You didn’t even say anything when she called me a- a-,” you couldn’t even bring yourself to say the word.

“I am sorry. She is a close friend to the Tsaritsa. To sully her honor is to insult the Tsaritsa.”

“What about me?”

It was a foolish question, one you didn’t want to hear the answer to. In fact, you were sure you already knew what he was going to say. You weren’t as important as the Tsaritsa. You were just some girl from the House of the Hearth who was lucky enough to become a harbinger’s bride.

So you closed your eyes, you didn’t want to face the truth. Didn’t want to hear it just yet.

“I am sorry, y/n.”

Huh?”

You felt him engulf you in a tight hug, his arms wrapped around you like a vice. The warmth that radiated off of him was vast as he held you close.

“I will right the wrong that I have done do to you.”

You opened your eyes and looked up at him, “what do you mean? Are you going to bring that woman back here or something?”

One of Capitano’s arms left your waist as he raised his hand to take a hold of your jaw so that your eyes remained on the dark void that was his mask.

“I will bring you her head.”

“You don’t- you don’t have to do that!”

Your words were panicked when Capitano told you he would bring you that woman’s head. Honestly, you never even heard anyone say something like that before.

“I have wronged you and have not spoken out to her when she was slandering you.”

“An apology will be enough,” you managed.

You took a step back as you had long dropped the clothes you had gathered from your dresser. The backs of your knees hit lightly against the bed causing you to fall back into the mattress.

“An apology?”

“Y- yes, I- I know I am not as important as the Tsaritsa or that woman. I know that. And I know that I hsouldn’t expect anything either, b- but an apology, even if it’s a lie, is all I need.”

Before you could sit up on the bed, he had pushed you back down and knelt in front of you, you managed to lift your head just a little as you looked at him.

“My apology to you won’t be a lie.”

Your lips trembled as you felt him start to lift the hem of your nightgown.

“Wha- what are you doing?”

“Apologizing to my wife.”

He said it so simply as he pushed your nightgown all the way up to reveal your panties. You could feel your face grow hot and start to burn as as he gripped your thighs. He never stared so intently there before. It made your nerves itch all over. Letting go of one of your thighs, he reached for his mask and easily undid the constraints in order to take it off and set it on the ground beside him.

“Capitano-“

He glanced up at you and you swore you saw a flicker of a smirk against his lips as reached for your underwear, his fingers tugged the crotch part to the side a bit so he could see your folds. You weren’t wet, but that could be changed.

“Tell me stop.”

The words surprised you for a moment but you shook your head no, your voice was shaky as you gave your reply, “if you’re going to apologize, then do it.”

Now you were certain he was smirking at you as he leaned into you. His lips ghosting over your sensitive little clit before pressing a soft kiss to it, the sudden touch caused you to jolt a bit, but you didn’t move an inch thanks to the hold he had on you. Keeping you still was easy for him. And you didn’t have time to question what else he was going to do as you felt a longue drag of his tongue against your folds. The sensation wasn’t anything you felt before as he lapped at you. The texture was different than your fingers as you felt your hips start to rut against his mouth to get a better feel.

The pleasure you felt was erupting along your cunt like a fire cracker, you wanted to feel more, and more is what he gave you as you felt his tongue prod against your clenching hole.

“Not- not there! I- I never had anything up there-“

Your voice was cut off with a moan as you felt his tongue delve deep. Your walls clamped down on his wet muscle as his nose bumped against your clit, and as soon as you were getting used to his tongue he would bring his mouth away and replace his tongue with one of his gloved fingers. The sharp talon worried you for a moment, but the texture of his glove rubbed against your walls in just the right away that you started to gently rut against his palm.

You didn’t realize he was moving until you saw him above you. His finger still working you open as he bent down to capture your lips with his own. You could taste yourself on his tongue as pried your lips open and mapped the expanse of your mouth.

You squealed loudly into his mouth when you felt a second finger meet the first in working against your tight walls. And Capitano, using his other arm to keep himself from crushing you by leaning his forearm next to your head, enjoyed all the little sounds you made as he worked you up.

“Are you going to cum on my fingers?”

His question weighed heavily as his lips moved against your own. Your walls clenched and tightened around his fingers his words.

“Or do you need a third?”

You felt something snap in your lower belly, a heat that just washed over you completely when he carved a third finger in your tight pussy. Your walls clamped around his deft digits like a vice as you felt something wash over your and leak around his fingers and onto your inner thighs.

“And here I thought you said you couldn’t cum, seems you were wrong.”

You breathed heavily when he pulled his fingers from your dripping cunt, the sound making you wince slightly as it sounded messy and wet at the same time.

“That woman will never slander you again, and the next to speak ill of you in my presence will lose their tongue.”

In your dazed and drowsy mind, you wondered if what he was saying was true.

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[anthophi-lia]

We’re not even dating…

(Part 2)

A kindly requested sequel to this smau… We’re not even dating

Bakugou Katsuki x reader

1201 words

Enjoy!

The panic comes the moment your eyes flutter open. Here you are laying in your bed, with a still slumbering Katsuki Bakugou with his head pressed against your chest and his hand grasping at the side of your t-shirt.

You weren’t panicking at the fact that he was there. Waking up beside or snuggled against him was far from unusual for the two of you. No, the panic stemmed from the events of the previous night when Katsuki let the alcohol do all the talking before vomiting in your toilet and letting you lull him to sleep in your bed.

“Fuck…This is disgusting. Can you please just get out?” He had slurred between gags as he hunched over the toilet bowl. This brought a small laugh out of you as you shook your head at the mess he currently was.

“Get out of my bathroom? That I’m letting you destroy right now?” You brushed his hair out of his face with one hand as you continued to rub his back soothingly with the other. “If it’s me being scared off by your nasty puking that you’re worried about, then no need Kats. I still think you’re pretty cute,” you teased as he let out a frustrated growl.

“The puking isn’t the main issue…” He mumbled as he wiped at his bottom lip and sat up to lean himself against the bathroom wall. You knew he was referring to the series of drunken text messages he had sent you that had prompted you to come fetch him in the first place. You pursed your lips, unsure of what to say to him or how to ease his nerves.

“Let’s get you cleaned up so we can get some rest yeah?” Is all you could manage, offering him your hand to help stand himself up. He gave you a small nod, his gaze on the floor, as he took your hand and wobbled his way to the sink.

Now, nine hours later, he remained passed out on top of you, blissfully unaware of the awkward conversation you were soon to have. You know that chances were slim that he had meant any of the things he had said to you the night before. So now your goal was to agree to just forget about it so you could hopefully you could continue your relationship in the same manner as before. Late night texts to come over, occasional casual hang outs, and absolutely no exclusivity.

Deciding it’s best to just get it over with, you gently put your hands in his hair and softly say his name, “Kats…Wake up Kats..” He lets out a low grumble, nuzzling himself deeper into you, clearly only partially conscious. You roll your eyes and give his cheek a pinch, just sharp enough to wake him up.

“Christ, what the fuck,” he hisses out, smacking your hand away. He goes to rub the sleep from his eyes like a child would and for just a moment you’re reminded by how genuinely pure he can be sometimes. Until he’s cursing you out again. “You’re a bitch you know that right? I’m exhausted. Let me fucking sleep.”

Now that he’s awake, you push him off you slightly so you can sit yourself up. He looks at you with fire in his eyes, but you simply give him back a soft smile, doing your best to keep things comfortable until it becomes the opposite.

“You had quite the night last night…” You try to start the conversation, but he flops onto his back with a groan, and throws his arm over his face. “Kats…Babe..” You bring your knees towards your chest and reach to give him a little shake.

“Oh god just stop please. Don’t ‘babe’ me. Let’s just fucking forget it, yeah?” He peeks past his arm at you and you’d be lying if you said your heart didn’t sink a little bit.

“Oh. Yeah alright. I just thought you’d want to talk about it.” You avert your gaze, praying he can’t see the way your heart is in your throat, and you’re about to throw it up.

“There’s nothing to talk about. Clearly you don’t feel the same way so just forget about the whole damn thing.”

Oh?

Your jaw falls open for a moment and you shoot your eyes back towards him. You grab his shoulder to pull him upright, pure disbelief on your face. He chews on the inside of his mouth, frustration ever present on his face.

“Are you saying you meant what you said?”

Grumbling.

You can’t stop the stupid grin on your face as you reach to grab his hand, holding it tightly. With your other hand you grab his jaw, tilting his face towards you.

“Katsuki Bakugou. You’re in love with me?” Pure and utter humiliation falls on his face and though you feel just a tad cruel for reacting like this, you can’t help but internally squeal at the situation.

“What the fuck did I say? Forget- ” Before the sentence fully falls out of his mouth, you press your lips to his. You feel him gasp, but lean into the kiss, reaching to the back of your neck and pulling you deeper into him.

You swing your leg over his hips, so you’re now straddling him. You adoringly run your hands up and down his entire body, pressing kiss after kiss onto him. Finally pulling away, you put your hands on either side of his awestruck face and smile like an idiot.

“What was that?” He gasps out, catching his breath. He lets his hand fall to your hips and lets his eyes trail all the way down your body and back up again.

“Katsuki Bakugou. You’re a goddamn idiot.” You shake your head and squish his face between your hands, which brings a deep frown out of him.

“Hey now it’s not my faul-”

“Stop. Let me finish,” you whine as you put your finger up to his lips. “You’re a goddamn idiot. And I want you to be mine.”

“The fuck? You mean tha-”

This time you put your hand flat against his mouth. “Shut up! For one second! I’m in love with you Kats. I want to go on actual dates. I want to have you as the lock screen on my phone so when people ask I can tell them about my wonderful boyfriend. I want to wake up and know you’re still there from the night before so we can go on walls to go get coffee together. I want you.” Finally dropping your hand so he can reply, Katsuki is speechless. His jaw has fallen open a little and his eyes have softened immensely. For the first time since you’ve know him, he doesn’t know what to say.

“Yes. Fuck…yes. I’ll be yours- Jesus fuck just- You be mine? Okay? You’re mine?” You’ve never see him stumble over his words like this and it unleashed butterflies deep inside you. You just nod at him, to which he gives you the kind of smile you’ve never seen from him before. It’s a smile of actual joy, admiration, and love.

You lean forward to press your lips against each corner of his mouth. After that you put yourself close to his ear and softly whisper to him, “I’m yours Kats. I’m all yours.”

• • •

@babycheech