#hold on soup dumplings | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

luveline · 2 years ago

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𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐛𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭 | 𝐚𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫

You learn how to be someone’s girlfriend. Or, 5 times Hotch raises your expectations (+1 time you raise his).

7k words, new established relationship to established relationship, lots of fluff and some small angst, hurt/comfort, fem!reader, civilian!reader, calls him aaron, basically hotch treating you well

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1. Soup.

"Are you hungry?" Aaron asks, hands at the neck of his shirt as he loosens his tie.

You've never seen him do that. It's a lot to take in.

"A little, are you?" He's lucky that you remember to answer.

His smile lights you up inside and out, a warm, casual quirk. "Famished."

"Should we make something?"

He turns from the doorway and moves into the kitchen. You have to twist on his couch to see his movements.

"No need. I should've asked if you like it, but I made vegetable soup. The kind with mini dumplings."

You look down at your legs and squeeze your thighs together until your knees tap. You're too shy to go and meet him where he's standing, but perhaps sitting and having him wait on you is arrogant. And awkward.

The couch is plush under your hands as you stand. You'd slipped off your shoes at the door, and your socked-feet slide over the tiled floor of the kitchen as you make your way to his side. Aaron lights the stove, atop which stands a tall cooking pot.

"When did you have time to make that?" you ask, soft with awe.

"I knew you'd be coming over. I started it this morning."

"And if I didn't like it?"

He turns his gaze to yours, pot lid held aloft. "Then I would've ordered in for us. You're sure this is okay?"

You've never had somebody cook for you before. Homemade, fresh ingredients, and the intricacy of the dumplings too, it all impresses and amazes you. You feel very special. Like you're worth all the effort.

"I'm sure. More sure if you let me try it."

His laugh startles you for its rarity. "Okay. It's not done," he warns.

"Just to taste it."

He stirs the warming soup with a big spoon for half a minute, the heat on high, before scooping up some broth and holding it above a cupped palm. "It's probably not very hot," he says.

Oh, you think, excited and sick with nerves at once. He's going to feed the soup to me.

Something out of a movie, something you didn't know people actually did for their significant others, Aaron waits for you to open your mouth and offers the spoon. You slurp and feel heat rise to your cheeks at the clumsy sound.

"Aaron," you say, soft and obsessed after you've swallowed, "it's really nice. You made that yourself?"

"I can cook," he says defensively.

You lick your lips, giggling. "I can tell. That was really good. Though it was definitely too cold."

"Mm. It has to cook through some more. Reduce. Do you want to shower?" He puts down his wooden spoon, head tilting to one side gently. He assesses your expression, and brings a curved hand to settle over your cheek. The tip of his index finger kisses the delicate skin under your eye. "No, maybe not. You look tired."

You probably shouldn't say something like that to your brand new girlfriend (you scream internally at the word, every single time since he asked you a week ago) but Aaron speaks factually. You don't think for a second that there's any malice there, any hidden critique. His words shine with concern.

"It's Friday. I'm always tired at the end of the week."

His hand falls to your shoulder. "I can imagine."

"You can go shower, if you like. I'll watch the soup."

"I need one, huh?"

He must know how well-kept he looks even now. You're not sure you've ever seen him dishevelled.

"Definitely need one," you try to tease. It comes out murmur-quiet, and Aaron takes pity and kisses your cheek.

He leaves to shower and you 'watch' the soup — you stand at the stovetop and soak in it's emanating warmth, stirring it every now and then to prevent the bottom from burning. The shower runs muffled from the bathroom, and your mind wanders as it tends to do. It's an undeniable fact that Aaron is naked right now, the thought opening an avenue of images you've been trying not to think about all day. It's your very first time spending the night after a couple of weeks of dating, and now you're together, if Aaron wants to have sex tonight you'll say yes. He's handsome, and his build suggests a certain�� tenacity.

His hands would convince you alone. Big hands.

You look down into the simmering pot of soup and smile harder than you have any right to smile. He's done everything right, all the romance; he'd asked you out clearly with no doubt of his intentions, which had shocked you; he'd brought you a bouquet of flowers on your first date, which had delighted you; and he hadn't tried to take you home, which had surprised you.

Modern romance often doesn't feel very romantic. Things with Aaron are different.

Hell, he's so sweet he probably won't make a move unless you make one yourself.

You'd prefer to be squeaky clean tonight, you've decided, just in case. When he gets out of the shower, you'll tell him you've changed your mind.

The shower shuts off. He appears a little bit after that, in new clothes, towel around his neck and feet either side of your own as he sidles in for a damp and quick cheek kiss.

"Sorry I took so long. Are you ready to eat?" he asks, taking the spoon from your hand to give the soup a big, gran stir.

"Actually, could I shower?"

If he's surprised at your changed mind he says nothing, only turns down the heat of the stove. "Of course you can. Come on, I'll show you how it all works."

His 'come on' is accompanied with a guiding hand at the small of your back. You let yourself be guided. The heat of his touch fills your stomach and doesn't abate, no matter how cold you run the spray.

2. Phone calls.

It's the week after that when you're supposed to be spending the night again. You're excited for two reasons, the first and smallest being that he had been what you thought and more in bed, that itself an expectation raised, and it had felt like connection at its brightest — he'd been sweet, and he'd been rough but never, not ever once cruel. A perfect night. The second, and biggest, is that he's honestly just the nicest person you've ever met. He's your boyfriend, a phrase you don't say in front of him because he's admittedly older than you, and you can't imagine he calls you his girlfriend. Partner might be more apt. He's your boyfriend and he's openly fond of you. Openly more than that. It's new to be doted on as ardently as he dotes on you.

He touches you like he can't believe he's touching you. He talks to you like you're gold dust, all smiles and laughs heavy with admiration, and he listens. You've never felt listened to in the way you do when you're with him.

So many conversations are just one party waiting for the other to stop talking until it's their turn. You think, maybe, Aaron would let you talk for hours. He would listen the whole time.

In summary, you're basically thrumming with excitement to see him again. You've missed him some, but mostly you've spent the week bouncing off of walls waiting for the next time you get to talk to him.

His text is disheartening, to say the least.

Hey, honey. I have to cancel our plans tonight. I'm sorry, and I'll explain as soon as I get the chance. Please take care of yourself for me until I can.

It doesn't make you mad. While it is extremely short notice, and your heart hurts to the point of frustrated tears, you know it isn't his fault. He's been clear about his job at the FBI and what that means for you both. How it will without a doubt pull him away from you during dates, the middle of the night, special occasions, the works — this had been after a small disclosure about his commitment to his son, Jack, and how he's a father first — and how it will definitely cause some strain.

"But," he'd said, "I want you, and I want this to work. So if you can be patient with me, I'll try to make it worth it."

He's been successful every time. After he'd cancelled your third date, he'd quickly rearranged it and apologised with a modest but beautiful bouquet of flowers.

Somewhere between the fifth and sixth date, you hadn't seen him for two whole weeks, and every worry you'd had about his intentions had been abated by a steady stream of encouraging text messages and the occasional photograph. Nothing crazy, but sweet things, like the cookies he and Jack had made that night, captioned, I'd save one for you if I thought Jack would let me, or a sunrise in a different state, captioned, This looks like the dress you wore to Lemaira.

Later that night, you're unhappy and frowning still, a small carton of ice cream freezing your fingers to the cardboard and a spoon in your mouth when your phone starts to ring.

You aren't expecting it to be Aaron. You aren't in the habit of calling one another, even though you'd secretly wished he would while he's away beforehand.

It's nearing eight o'clock.

"What time do you call this?" you joke, smiling despite yourself. Again, the excitement that comes with talking to him wells at the surface.

"I know, I'm sorry," he says, sounding very tired.

You slouch down into your couch cushions, ice cream on the armrest, remote for the TV on your chest. You click the volume button down, down, down until the TV's near silent.

"I'm kidding, mostly. Are you okay? I've been a little worried."

Understatement of the century. You know sudden cases of violence often draw him away from Virginia, but this had been sudden sudden. The lack of information had made you think the worst, worse than serial killer and bombers and hostage situations. You'd thought Aaron was in danger himself, and then you'd tried to suffocate that thought. He'd never worry you like that even if he were.

"I'm fine. Sorry to miss you tonight."

"I'm sorry to miss you too," you say, voice disjointed, too earnest. You scramble to hide the depth of your feelings. "Where are you?"

"I'm in St. Louis. Where are you?"

You laugh, curling onto your side with the phone pressed up against your ear. "Where am I? I'm at home."

"What are you doing?"

"I was watching TV."

"Yeah? Did you eat anything yet?"

You think to the takeout you'd bought and shoved in the microwave, not hungry at the time but knowing knowing would be. "Not yet. Why are you asking?"

"I want to know."

"I told you in my text I would take care, Aaron."

"Honey," he says, pet name like a warm palm over your heart, "my definition of taking care and your definition are very different. Promise me you'll eat something."

"Of course I will. Easy promise." You scratch the couch fabric absent-mindedly. "Have you eaten?"

"Yes," he says, the sound of a closing window in the background. "It's awful how much take out I eat. All these cases, there's never any time to cook real food."

"Why, what did you have? And surely there's some uber healthy options out there, like, a chickpea salad-"

"That costs thirty dollars? I'm not struggling, honey, but we both know that's obscene."

You're laughter takes on a giddy quality as you cross your leg over the other, picturing his smile as his laughter echoes breathily down the line. You really, really wish he were here right now and that you were having this conversation face to face. You know he'd smile and try to hide how smug he feels at making you laugh. His hand would reach over any gap to touch some silly part of you, forearm or collar or the skin under your ribcage.

"Are you okay?" You say his name to drive the point home. Your voice is quiet — you're hesitant to offer, worried you're crossing a boundary. "Aaron, I know you don't like bringing it home, but you aren't home, so… I'm here."

"I know. It's nothing I want you to worry about, there's an ongoing situation here, bomb threats coming in quicker than the local P.D can handle. They need us to vet them and figure out if any of them are real."

You think about it for a few seconds, the silence small but not uncomfortable. If you were under that kind of pressure, you'd be hurting. Chest pains, anxiety shakes, a migraine.

"You'll be safe?" you ask.

"Always. I'm not in any danger. And I need to get home, I owe you a Friday."

"You do," you mumble.

There's the creak of a box spring mattress, and the sound of a lamp being clicked. On or off, you don't know. When Aaron speaks, his tone is dulcet and hushed but distinct. You feel it in your chest.

"Tell me about your day," he murmurs.

You lay it all out for him in detail. He can barely reply when you hang up, sleep thickening his affectionate, "Goodnight, honey."

3. His bleeding heart.

"What kind of kid were you?" he asks.

You look up from your notebook, surprised. Aaron has been silent for what feels like an hour now, laid out on the picnic blanket with your sweater bundled up under his head while the sun warms your skin.

"I was…" You let your pen roll into the centre of your notebook and close it. He's laid his paperback flat across his chest. You think he might be very interested in the answer. "It was a long time ago, but I think I was lonely."

He nods like this is what he'd been expecting. "Me too."

It's a gorgeous day out. The sky is a light, bright blue with few clouds. They block the sun occasionally, providing a short and bittersweet shield from the heat. The grass surrounding is shockingly green, rippling in the breeze.

"You were?" you ask. "What were you like?"

"I was quiet."

"That's not surprising," you say mildly.

"No, I guess not."

You abandon your notebook and lay down beside him. Worrying what you look like from this angle, you cover your jaw with your hand and turn toward him ever so slightly to show you're listening.

"I liked affection. I remember my mom used to say I was a siphon for it. I'd be all over her, and she'd have nothing left to give anyone else."

"That's not true," you deny. Every ounce of affection that you given him, he has returned tenfold, and that's inspired a lot of kindness in you, for him and for the world. "You're like an amplifier, if anything."

He smiles to himself and turns his gaze skyward. "I wish we'd met before."

"Me too," you say, leaving little room for debate.

"You're so kind," — he adorns you with each word like a gift, a tiny star of praise — "I think you're the kindest person I've ever met."

He laughs. It's a catching sound, contagious as anything. You giggle with him and shift closer. Your arms touch, your hips.

"Baby," you murmur, almost lamenting, "d'you ever think your ability to see the good in people is- It's indicative of the good in you... You've given more of your life than most to keep other people safe. That's the kindest thing a person can do."

He tangles your hand with his where it had been resting on your stomach. You're pretty sure you can feel every line of every fingerprint as he works your fingers together, a snug fit like one of those wooden brain teaser puzzles: How do you pull these two pieces apart? From the outside, it looks impossible!

"I think I'd be different, if I'd met you before. I'd be kinder," he says.

You can't agree with him. It's obvious who he is. You know more about him now than you ever have before. His late wife, how she'd been the best mother they ever made. His son, and how he moulds Aaron everyday into a better man. His friends, who trust him, who adore him. All these people have a hand in who Aaron is now, and while you wish you'd been around from the start, now will have to do.

"You're plenty kind," you say. Understatement of the century.

"Sorry," he says with a laugh, "With you-" He cuts himself off, head-shaking from side to side as he pulls your joined hands up slowly.

Your arm bends and then turns as he pulls it toward his face. He unlinks your fingers to steer your forearm, aligning it flat over his lips. The first kiss is a surprise, light like the feathered edge of a flower petal, and the second isn't dissimilar.

The third melts you, veritably, the parting of his lips emphasised by the dull scratch of teeth against your pulse, the wet heat of his tongue. Three becomes four, and a final fifth, crescent moons pressed into your skin like he's trying to tell you something.

You've no clue what. You likely couldn't say which way the world turns, not when he's kissing you. Not like this.

Aaron has an acute ability to talk without talking. Hello's and thank you's and I care about you's woven into quick kisses, the swift squeeze of his hand over the slope of your shoulder.

These ones say something you don't want to speak aloud, lest you jinx it.

The sunlight fades. A big grey cloud covers the sun.

"I think it's gonna rain," you say.

A raindrop splashes in Aaron's eye.

"Fuck," he says, which is hilarious, because he never swears in front of you. You hadn't known he cussed at all.

The downpour is slow and then sudden, spitting rain dotting over you both like a fine mist as you stand, a thicker, faster outpouring chasing your heels as you hurry to the car. You realise you can't outrun it even if you sprint, and so you stop, Aaron's hand in yours tugged like a rubber band. He bounces back into your chest with the picnic blanket under his arm, your books tucked somewhere inside.

He doesn't ask what you're doing. He's made the same deduction as you, or maybe he trusts you, or maybe he's indulging you.

"Your hair," he laments.

"Doesn't matter," you say.

You lift your chin up for a kiss. Aaron ducks down to give you one. A raindrop runs down the bridge of his nose to the tip of yours.

4. In sickness.

You insist that it wasn't the rain that made you sick, but honestly there's no way to tell. You'd kissed for slightly too long, and the rain had been surprisingly cold. Now you aren't very well, and you have to cancel Aaron's sleepover.

You hold out as long as you can, but come Friday afternoon it's clear you aren't getting better. You wake to a text from Aaron, two texts, and it makes you smile through shivery coughs.

I can't wait to see you tonight. Do you need anything before I get there? Miss you. Sent 6.26AM.

Is everything okay? Sent 9.17AM.

Usually you'd have answer his morning text within the hour.

Hi, I miss you too, so much, but I don't think we'll be able to see each other tonight. I've got the flu :( I'm sorry. And sorry I couldn't answer your message until now, I was sleeping.

It's another hour before he answers. You rouse from your gross snotty stupor to squint at the phone. It's surprisingly long.

I'm sorry it's taking me so long to get back to you, things are tense here right now. You don't have to be sorry for either, I'm glad to hear you're resting. You could have told me you were sick. Is it okay if I come and see you tonight anyways? I would love to check on you. Don't rush to answer, and call me if you can.

You call him with reservations.

"Is this a good time?" you ask weakly, forgoing a hello.

It takes him a little while to speak. You assume he's leaving a room, closing a door. "Now's fine. How are you?"

"My throat hurts and it's a little hard to breathe, but I'm sure I'll live."

"You've been to see a doctor?"

"It's not that bad."

He sighs. "You sound tired. And sore. Why didn't you tell me you were sick?"

"You don't have to baby me, I'm really okay."

"Have you considered that I'd like to baby you?"

Not really. You can't imagine anyone would want to deal with you. You're a mess, you look awful, you don't smell great, and you're not good company. You can't think of a single reason Aaron would want to be anywhere near you right now.

"No," you say, "I hadn't."

"I'd love to look after you."

"You could be doing something fun with your Friday. You could see Jack."

"Jack's going to Kings Dominion. And Fridays are our day, you being sick doesn't make me want to see you less."

You hadn't said that, but he'd inferred it. Of course he had.

You and Aaron decide that your sleepover will go ahead after all. Or, he persuades you very gently. You spend three hours doing tasks that should only take one. You shower, you clean your room, and you do the dishes. By the end of it you're sweating enough to need another shower but you aren't a quitter, so you open the freezer and stick your head in, hands braced against the refrigerator door.

You're excited to see him. You always are. Too bad you look so wiped out.

It's almost 6.30 when you hear his knock on the door. You'd been waiting for him and started dozing at the kitchen table, your neck a mess of twisted nerves, your hand numb from supporting your head. You shake it out and open the door, sheepish.

"Hi," you croak out.

He has a lot of stuff with him. His familiar overnight bag, a briefcase, two grocery bags, and a bouquet.

"Aaron, why," you moan, covering your face with one hand as you move back down the hall to let him in.

"Not the greeting I'd hoped for."

"I can't greet you, I'll make you sick."

You get all the way to the kitchen and think, triumphantly, that you've escaped his 'greeting'. He puts the flowers down carefully on the kitchen counter as you try to come up with a thank you that doesn't make your eyes burn. The grocery bags are placed without ceremony on the floor, and his overnight bag falls onto the kitchen chair. You watch him unbutton his rain spattered coat, and your triumph fades when he peels out of it and instantly reaches for you.

"Aaron," you mumble, stepping into his arms. He knows you can't say no to a hug, not after a week of not seeing him.

"I missed you," he says, arms around your back, lips at your temple. "You're running a temperature."

"It's not that bad. 101."

"Honey, 101 is bad."

"Not as bad as 102."

"Not as bad as 102," he concedes. You can hear his voice rumbling in his throat, and feel it in his chest and yours.

He takes as much of your weight as he can, leaning back so you're forced to arc forward. Your face slips into his neck, and you're thinking, this is what it's like? To be held, sick, with nothing to give? It feels good.

"Please tell me the next time you're sick," he murmurs.

You definitely will. If this is what it's like, roaming, cautious hands over your shoulder blades, a strong nose stroking lines against your warm forehead.

"Thank you for the flowers."

It's squished against his skin but he hears it. "You're welcome. Do you want me to put them in a vase?"

"I can do it."

"I think that might defeat the purpose. They're a gift, not an extra chore."

"Nobody ever got me flowers before you, so it doesn't feel like a chore at all."

He encourages your face back enough to look at you. You have to mouth breath on him because your nose is all stuffed up, and it is not something you're happy to do. You look down so he can't feel it.

"I'm gonna do something really cheesy, and you can tease me about it later, okay?"

You look at him from under your lashes. "'Kay."

"Close your eyes," he whispers.

You let your eyes shut. Aaron cradles your face in both hands and pulls your face toward his chin, in your rough approximation.

Heat fans against your eyes. He kisses your eyelids, the left and then the right, the most gentle press of his lips you've ever felt.

"It's killing me to see you like this," he says, and you're grateful for the pinch of humour behind it. "Couch or bed?"

"Couch. I wanna watch a movie with you."

"Good. I wanna watch a movie with you, too."

Aaron does everything. You're too tired to notice, but when you're better, you'll add it all up. He makes you dinner and breakfast and lunch and enough for the day after that, too. He trims down all your flowers and places them in a vase on your window sill. He recleans your room, cleans your bathroom, and plays nursemaid diligently. He makes you take your temperature in front of him, and then he fawns and makes you hug an ice pack, stays the night again when he's supposed to go home.

It sucks, but your temperature falls, and when your insides stop cooking themselves you start to feel better. On Sunday morning, when he has to leave, you feel the strange pang of being cared for unconditionally like the wind being knocked out of you. He'd done all of that because he cares about you. He'd wanted to see you fed and well and happy, and he hadn't gotten anything out of it in return.

5. The test-drive.

"Hi, Jack," you mumble, rubbing wetness out of your sleep-heavy eyes. "Good morning."

"Good morning," he says cheerfully, of his father's disposition.

"Did you," — you yawn wide and turn your face so neither of them can see — "sleep well?"

"Yeah, thank you. Why are you so tired?"

Aaron's standing at the stovetop making oatmeal. You stand at the counter beside it, hips touching but facing opposite ways. "I'm still getting used to your dad's bed."

It's true. There's something about someone else's mattress that makes you ache.

"What is it about my mattress you can't get along with?" Aaron asks in good humour, adding a generous pinch of salt to the saucepan.

"It's more comfortable than mine," you say with a self-satisfied laugh.

Aaron pecks your damp cheek and skirts around you to fill three identical bowls of oatmeal next to three identical glasses of orange juice. Jack cheers when his portions are placed in front of him, and he digs in even though it's ridiculously hot.

Aaron had explained once that he's basically trained Jack to eat it scorchingly hot by accident. Years of oatmeal straight off of the hob versus a growing boy with no patience. You watch in awe as Jack scarfs it down.

You and Aaron are doing this thing. You've called it the test-drive in your head. He wants to see how well you and Jack get along, likely, and how well you handle living together, too. (Though you absolutely don't think you'll be moving in together quite this soon.) That's your working theory. He'd asked you if you'd be interested in staying for the week a month ago, and you had, and it had been a dream. This is week two, and it seems to be going just as well as the first.

It's definitely revealing. To see each other's routines. And an adjustment. You have to see all the gross stuff, no avoiding it.

Though stuff you might consider gross he enjoys. Like watching you put on body lotion, he'd loved that more than words could express. And watching him shave, you'd loved that more than you'd thought you would. You'd sat on the lip of the tub and he'd listened to your morning murmurings, half asleep and excited as always to talk to him about everything.

Getting to know Jack more has been a joy, too. You've met him nowhere near as many times as you would've liked and done family things: bowling, pizza places, the movies, a baseball game.

Eating breakfast together is way more fun. Especially because Jack likes you.

As soon as you sit down he starts to tell you about school. You listen, sipping your orange juice while you wait for the oatmeal to cool from lava.

After breakfast, the three of you head back to your respective bedrooms to get dressed.

That's something else you adore, you and Aaron undressing and redressing together in the space in front of his closet, the intimacy of casual nudity, and the way his hand closes around your hip to move you out of the way of his shirts.

You're pretty much inseperable until you get to the car park. A firm believer in kids receiving as much love as they can from everybody, you offer Jack a hug before you part ways everytime. Sometimes he says yes, though most times he says, "Thank you, Miss Y/N, but my hug quota is full."

Today, he squeezes your waist really hard and says, "Have a good day bye," like it's one word.

"Have a good day, baby," you tell him, laughing as he jettisons into the passenger seat of Aaron's car.

Aaron usually gives you a swift kiss and goodbye like his son. Today, he brings his hand to your neck. You stare him straight in his dark eyes as he does, marvelling the shock of straight lashes outlining each one, and the permanent wrinkle between his brow from frowning.

Placing two hands on either shoulder, you use his frame to rise on tiptoes and kiss it.

"Don't frown too much today, okay, handsome? Have a good day."

He cups your face in both hands as your heels touch the ground. His hands are warm, kind as he pushes both palms over your cheeks and your ears. He covers them, and your heartbeat amplifies, a thumping sound fighting his skin. Then he slips his fingers behind your ears and the roaring fades.

"I love you," he says.

You beam at him. "Really?"

"Really. I love you, honey. Have a good day."

As if. If he thinks he can walk away after dropping that on you he's got another thing coming.

You throw your arms around his neck and all your weight into his front, almost barrelling him over. You have to stop yourself from wrapping your thighs around him, 'cause then he really might fall over.

You dig your face into his neck, searching for something, for the perfect place to rest your cheek. "I love you, Aaron."

There isn't a chance in hell he didn't already know it.

"I got you something," he says.

You laugh in surprise and tighten your hold on him. "Why? This is gift enough." He loves you. It bounces around in your chest.

"Because I'm not stupid enough to miss what I have right in front of me."

You lean back so you can kiss him, ignoring his hand as it reaches into his pocket.

"Baby," you say, a hair's width from his lips. You kiss him again for a second, thrilled, but curiosity pulls you back. "You have it now?"

He takes a step away from you and reveals the box in his pocket, long and thin. It clicks open on a silver hinge, and inside velveteen lies a simple chain.

"Is that a diamond?" you ask, breathless. The stone at the end of the chain shines like nothing you've ever seen before.

You don't know a thing about them other than that they're expensive. You can't see Aaron Hotchner of all people buying a fake.

"A small one," he says modestly.

Your eyes burn. You're happy to the point of tears but you refuse to cry.

"And it's for me?" you ask.

He laughs and you laugh too, the sound slightly sniffly.

"Of course. Do you want to wear it?"

"Now? Yes, more than anything," you say, smiling hard, cheeks appled and aching. "Are you serious?"

"More than anything."

Corny, you think desperately. Do not cry, that's so cheesy.

"Are you sure you don't want to wait until my birthday?"

He gestures for you to turn around, the chain hanging from his finger. You turn, feel his hands brushing against your neck as he lays it across your chest and pulls it together behind your nape.

"Your birthday gift is better than this."

Better? You could burst.

The clasp closes and he rubs his hands down the backs of your shoulders.

You turn back around, face dipped to your chest in efforts to see the necklace. It's short but long enough to spot the diamond hanging under your collar.

"I've never had a diamond, before," you mumble, hands pressed to your chest. Your heart bumps under your hand.

"Thank you," you say, looking up, "baby, you didn't have to. You don't have to get me stuff like this, it's a lot."

"I don't think it's too much. You give gifts when you're grateful. I'm grateful to love you."

He's expecting you this time, unwavering when your arms slide over his shoulders. You breathe in the smell of his skin and he does the same, his face pressed to the top of your head.

Jack is late for school that day. You apologise to Aaron more times than you can count, and every time he only smiles and says, "It's okay. I love you."

Aaron misses your first anniversary.

It's a very important date to miss, and you have a right to be upset.

But.

You always knew from the very first date that this was something that could, unfortunately, happen. You'd been lucky to get him for your birthday, luckier still to see him on his own and treat him with the delights he deserved. You'd figured eventually something would happen to throw a spanner in the works.

What you aren't expecting is the lack of anger.

You aren't mad at him, not one bit. It would be okay if you were, even though it's not his fault, because this is so big. You're celebrating the best year of your life alone, and that's no fun. You and Aaron had planned to go away, two days in a fancy hotel, Jack with Jessica and no worries.

He can't ignore a bomb threat in the capital, and he wouldn't want to.

You know a missed anniversary is a lesser weight than innocent people dead. You know Aaron wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he didn't go. You know he regrets leaving you on such an important day.

Maybe one day, you'll be angry with him. Today, you only miss him.

I love you. I'm sorry. I'll be back very soon. Happy anniversary.

He sends that after a grovelling, short phone call, in which you assure him that it's fine. Your voice is tight with tears, you miss him like crazy, and he hears it though you try to hide it.

I will make it up to you.

You don't have any doubts.

You feel a little sorry for yourself, and then you send him a text of your own.

I love you, so don't be sorry. Get back safe and sound and consider yourself forgiven. Happy anniversary, my love.

Followed with what's likely too many hearts for good measure.

Still, still, he doesn't believe it's okay. You know he's human, and he loves you, and that makes it easy to predict how he's feeling — worried that you're angry, worried that you'll leave him, worried this won't work for you.

And you're only human yourself. You can't say how you'll feel in another year, or two, or five. You can't imagine how depressing it might be to miss the holidays and birthdays and anniversaries with him year after year, but you want to be patient. You want to forgive him for the things he has no hand in, and you do.

You get a visitors pass for his office once you're cleared and take the elevator up, checking your text messages for the fifth time, just to make sure.

I'll be home in a couple of hours, the plane touches down in two. Love you. Sent 4.53PM.

It's the day after your anniversary, a Monday, and it's nearly 7PM. You smile at people you've seen in passing the few times you've visited his office before and don't bother trying to sit in Aaron's office, knowing it's locked while he's away. You travel the spare steps and sit at the top of the landing, hands clutching the neck of the bunch of flowers you're holding nervously. The cellophane crinkles.

You hadn't answered him. It was cruel to leave him hanging, but you didn't expect him to come home so soon. He's too damn good at his job.

The elevator doors open in the quiet. Barely anybody lingers now in the late hour, and the voices of the BAU echo.

Spencer sees you first. Morgan second. They stop at the beginning of the office.

Aaron sees you third.

You spring to stand up on your feet, and then you feel very tall and very seen and descend the steps rather than draw more attention.

"You said seven," you say, not sure what else to say, not with people watching you. "This is definitely closer to eight."

Aaron thankfully isn't too proud to speed walk to you. Your heart skips as you meet him, flowers crushed half to death as he gets his arm behind your neck, hooking your head in the crook of his elbow.

He kisses you roughly. Heat floods every inch of skin, your breath rushes out of your nose with a sigh.

He pulls back.

"Happy anniversary," you say quietly, smiling at the sheer relief in his eyes.

"It was yesterday," he says, quiet too.

"Happy one year and one day, then." You push him away from you gently. "Don't suffocate your roses."

"You got me flowers."

"You get people gifts when you're grateful," you parrot.

He takes a step back and accepts the flowers. On the message card, you've written, bashful and clumsy and adoring, I'm grateful to love you. One year and more.

He moves the bouquet into one hand and wraps you up in another huh, firm-armed, chin over the top of your head, though he intersperses his embrace with dainty kisses pecked from one temple to another.

"You aren't mad?" he asks, worried about the answer.

"No," you say honestly. "Not mad. Missed you like crazy yesterday, but I get you today. I can make it work."

When you break apart a second time, you both buckle under the weight of his colleagues watching.

"Thank you," Rossi speaks up, grand and wry, "we thought we'd have to endure his moping for at least a week. Your understanding spares us all."

"Nice, Dave," Aaron says.

"I've got your paperwork, Hotch," Morgan offers.

Aaron has the good sense to accept it before Morgan can change his mind. His friends say goodbye, and Aaron pulls you by the hand back to the elevator bank. You couldn't wipe the smile off of his face if you tried.

The elevator doors have barely closed when he's leaning down to kiss you again.

"Thank you," he says.

"You really don't have to say thank you," you murmur, bumping your shoulder with his. "You got home safe. That's all that matters."

His next kiss is bruising. The sound of cellophane crushed between you makes you laugh. He kisses you through it, his smile pressed feverishly to yours, over and over and over.

༺༻

thank you for reading! if you enjoyed please consider reblogging, i promise it makes a difference to me <3

#aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner drabble #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #aaron hotch hotchner

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420days · 2 months ago

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STAYING HOME (SHORT) | JEY USO

summary: jey’s the biggest baby when he’s sick

warnings: none

“Yeah girl, I’m gonna have to pass on lunch.”

“No worries sissy. I understand you wanna take care of your man! Just text me later so I can tell you the tea.” Her close friend, Nicole told her.

“I got you sis.”

After getting off the phone with Nicole she went to the fridge and instantly pull out the items to make a soup. She didn’t know what it was but Jey came down with something that made him extremely sick.

All last night he was throwing up, sweating, and sneezing like crazy. It drove her crazy not knowing what was wrong with him. All night she found herself dozing in and out of sleep, checking in him to make sure he was okay and still breathing.

When she work up this morning she spoke with a nurse to figure out what could’ve possibly been wrong with him. After listing his symptoms is was clear he had some kind of seasonal virus that was going around.

He rarely got sick but when he did he was the biggest baby in the world. He would stay in bed all day and hold Whitney right up under him.

Gathering the items for the soup she instantly started cooking so it would be done sooner than later. She made sure to add the extra spiciness the way they liked it and then started on the dumplings.

“Mmh, this is so good.” She danced to herself as she tasted the soup and then scooped some in the bowl for Jey. She then poured him a cup of lemon honey ginger tea and made her way upstairs.

When she got to their bedroom she placed the bowl and the cup down on the dresser and walked over to the bed where Jey was sprawled out. The room was freezing cold but his body was still hot due to his fever.

“Sweet face, wake up.” She called out to him a sage placed the food on the night stand and opened the blinds to let some light in.

“Baby close that.” He sucked his teeth and pulled the cover over his head to block the sunlight.

“Jey, come on.” She sat down on the bed, rubbing small circles into his back.

“Hmm?” He moved his head from under the comforter while adjusting his body to face her.

“Eat for me and you can go back to sleep. I made you some soup and tea.” She ran her hands through his small curls as he laid his head in her lap.

“I thought you were going out for lunch?” He asked.

“No, I gotta take care of my baby.”

“You don’t gotta do that. Go out with your girls.” He told her but she ignored him and picked up the humidifier so she could change the water in it.

As she did he grabbed the bowl off the dresser and instantly began eating it. If there was one thing Whitney could do it was cook her ass off. He loved all of her cooking especially when he was sick.

“How is it?”

“You know it’s good baby.” He licked his lips.

“Good, how do you feel? You look way better than yesterday.” She asked as she sat down on the bed next to him.

“Damn, I looked fucked up yesterday?” He sucked his teeth and turned to face her.

“Just a little bit.” She giggled.

“You’re not right for that. I couldn’t fucking breathe. He narrowed his eyes are her.

“Well you didn’t want to drink the tea. I bet you’ll drink it all now. It cleared your sinuses right out after I forced it down your throat.”

“That’s how you’re gonna treat me when we’re old, huh? Abusing me and shit?” He took the tea from her as she busted out laughing at how dramatic he was being.

“Hmm, maybe. You can be difficult sometimes we might have to send you to a nursing home.” She laughed once she saw the expression on his face.

“Yeah fucking right. You’ll be real upset when I find a young thang to take care of me.”

“And I’ll beat both of y’all asses. Old or not.” She pursed her lips at him. No longer thinking it was funny.

“Babe, you’re a trip.” He shook his head at her.

——————————————————————————

tag list: @bebesobrielo @trentybenty @amandairene88 @kiki1704 @paigereeder @uceyliyahh

#wwe #wwe imagine #wwe fluff #wwe smut #wwe one shot #wwe fanfiction #jey uso #jey uso imagine #black writers #black fanfic writer #black oc #black romance

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thepersonnamedsam · 1 year ago

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healing the inner child - mv1

pairing: max verstappen x fem!reader

summary: healing max‘s inner child was something you’d do again and again

word count: 1k

warnings: jos verstappen (because he deserves a warning on his own), a bit of angst maybe

note: it was inspired by a post i read earlier here on tumblr and it reminded me of something my therapist once told me; healing the inner child is the greatest way of healing trauma

masterlist / taglist

Max didn’t have a good childhood, Jos ruining the most of it. When you met Max he just won his first championship. You saw him in that nightclub, smiling from ear to ear and glowing like a light bulb. And then there was Jos. He was standing next to Christian Horner, having a heated discussion with him. Christian was seemingly uninterested, rather watching Max having the time of his life. You couldn’t hear what Jos was saying to him, but the fragments you did understand weren’t exactly nice things about his son. If you didn’t know that Jos was Max‘s father, you would think he was his biggest enemy. And that’s exactly what you thought.

You had no idea who Max was at first, you knew he was some big smoke show. But what he actually did, you couldn’t have guessed. You were visiting Abu Dhabi with some of your friends, only just agreeing to the night out, if you hadn’t, you wouldn’t have met Max. At first, he didn’t notice you, a timid shy young woman, standing at the bar and waiting for a bartender to give you your drink of choice. He walked up to the bar, wanting to order a new bottle of champagne. The bartender immediately noticed him and came to his service. You scoffed, how the hell have you been standing there for nearly 10 minutes and no one asked what you wanted, but he just walks up and everyone runs to serve him?

„Everything alright?“, he was asking you, already drunk and careless. Nobody could do him wrong that night, not even a visible angry and confused lady. „I was just standing there for 10 minutes, or more probably, and couldn’t order anything.“ You rolled your eyes. You were annoyed, annoyed with your friends for taking you to this place and annoyed with him and the busy bartenders.

„What would you like, I‘ll put it on my tab and you‘ll have it in a matter of seconds.“ He only meant it nice but to you it seemed cocky. „No thank you, I’d rather wait 10 minutes more, or better, I‘m just going to leave“, you muttered. „Hold up, I only meant it well. What’s going on?“ Max was visibly confused, blending out all of the other people around him, even the upcoming bartender with the new champagne bottle. „None of your business“, you told him, but Max didn’t let go.

You ended up leaving with him, nothing happened that night, just you two talking. He was sharing things with you he never shared with anybody. Things that included Jos. Feeling bad for Max you gave him the card of your therapist, but he just laughed at you and told you he didn’t need a therapist to help him. You once again rolled your eyes. You couldn’t believe what he just told you, everyone needs a therapist, but you couldn’t argue with him.

And one leads to another and you and Max got together. You tried to help Max as much as you could, but Jos didn’t agree with your relationship and always got in your way. It was hard, constantly hearing bad things about you, Max and your relationship with him from Jos. Max noticed your mood change every time Jos was around, so he changed the rules for him. He was only to come to races when you were not around. You didn’t want Max to change anything from you, but you were glad Jos was not attending a race. Not for you but for Max. Max deserved to be surrounded by people who loved and supported him.

You made it a habit to celebrate after every race, no matter what position he placed. You went out for ice cream, waffles, pasta or dumplings, everything he couldn’t have regularly during the season. One time you went out for dumplings, soup dumplings to be specific. Lance knew this great place for dumplings in Montréal. Celebrating his wins were always the best. You smiled and laughed a lot together and on nights like this, where everything was perfect, you didn’t want it to stop.

„Darling, you’re making a mess“, you laughed and looked at your boyfriend. He was trying to eat the dumpling in one go, but the dumpling exploded and the hot soup burnt his mouth, which led to him having soup dripping down his chin. He just smiled at you, ignoring the burning sensation on his face or all the looks he was receiving from the other guests. With you by his side, everything was okay.

„I don’t care, it’s delicious“, he smiled and looked at you. „Do you think we could go to the parc afterwards?“ He was looking at you with hopeful eyes. This was the other ritual you had; playgrounds were there to be played with and if Max felt like playing, you two played. And that’s what you did.

You two sat on the swings, giggling and laughing together. Max was feeling free, free from the pressure and free from anything negative. He was feeling just you and the wind in his face. Everything felt like it was perfect.

And when he won his second championship that year, you didn’t go out to party. Max took you by your hand and pulled you towards the nearest ice cream place, where he ordered himself the biggest sundae they had. You had laughed when he looked at you and asked what you wanted. You thought he was ordering for you two, but turns out, he wanted that ice cream all for himself. You simply took some ice cream in a cone and told Max, you’d eat the rest of his sundae. „I will finish this, believe me“, he told you. He infact did not finish it.

Max was your greatest gift that kept on giving. Healing his trauma was just one way of showing him how much you loved him. He appreciated it and after a while he felt like a little child who had the best childhood. You two had a relationship that wasn’t unusual, helping each other and being there was normal. And Max was definitely glad to have you by his side.

°°°

taglist: @ironmaiden1313

#f1 x reader #f1 #formula 1 #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x f!reader #angst with a happy ending #jos verstappen #red bull racing #red bull f1 #childhood trauma

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ginabiggs · 3 months ago

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Delicious in Dungeon!

[Image Description: Group shot of the Delicious in Dungeon cast. Top row, left to right, Laios excitedly holding a tray of soup and omlette, Chimera Falin being hugged by an excited Marcille. Bottom row, left to right, Chilchuck holding a treasure chest, possibly a mimic, Izutsumi looking at the bowl of delicious dumplings held by Senshi.]

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copperpipes · 4 months ago

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Ultraman spec bio part 2 (previous/first part)

Ultraman's shape does not necessarily point to anything I could go off of about internal structure so i'll run free on that :)

but there is something else that had me scratching a hole from my scalp to my skull, and that is

MASS

ugh. horrible. where does that mass of a 40 meter giant go?? I'm not very knowledgeable in physics but I will do my best to get out of this forsaken pickle.

you see energy does have mass (see the famous E=mc² formula) and can't just disappear into thin air, so where does it go? i have two options:

option 1, which i like more:

said energy is converted into another type of energy and stored, somewhere, or

option 2, which i like less:

pocket dimension. an overused and overrated easy way out. one i will use only if i give up on the better one.

(but for now we are going to ignore this section until i get more sleep)

CONCLUSION: [continue under cut vvv]

Ultraman is a very big single celled organism (technically,,,,he’s alien after all and alien cells might be different)

HOLD ON HEAR ME OUT HEAR ME OUT 🗣🗣🗣

my reasoning:

-like single celled plants he possesses a membrane through which he can (sorta) photosynthesise (spacium skin) with cytoplasm just sloshing inside (spacium energy) that can be released if needed through pores (hands n’ such).

-cells still can have internal structures, i propose that ultras have little pockets all over their bodies that would work not unlike muscles (or like spider limbs because this is where i took it from) by filling with spacium energy to inflate and spacium energy being withdrawn from them to contract, notice there are no bones in this equation because those little sacks would be pulling the skin (like shark muscles) to move the limbs.

-but if he’s a cell then does he have a nucleus? my answer would be, for what? Why would he need a nucleus? it's irrelevant, but. Again, Ultraman is an alien, so instead of a nucleus lets rename it to a core, something that would store an ultra’s mind, like a neural network. it could either be complex but small, or very simple and big. space may not be a problem but bigger also means slower. it can still be a network (and it could be located in his head), just not made out of cells because there’s no cells, just soup.

-no cells, no fibers, no brain. just soup encased in a spacium membrane.

-so also technically a dumpling.

i regret nothing.

next, part 3

#ultraman rising #ultraman #kenji sato #ken sato #ultraman: rising #spec bio #speculative biology

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transmutationisms · 1 month ago

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internet food is always bad but particularly a pet peeve of mine is when someone makes a sandwich so overstuffed that they can't hold it or bite into it without disgorging half its contents and making a colossal mess. do you even know what purpose the design elements of this dish have. you might as well make soup dumplings with holes poked in. you might as well kill yourself.

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takaminevaeh · 1 year ago

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The winner of the poll is…~

soft!dom deku x sub!fem reader!

I’ll post another poll later tonight to see who’s next… I really thought todobaku was gonna win but I guess not lol!

I’ve decided to include the whole part and not just split the aftercare, just because it’s easier for me AND sometimes the aftercare is too short to put it into its own post.

soft!dom deku x sub!fem reader

cw// dom!/sub! dynamic (izu’s a huge pleasure dom), heavy teasing, praise, oral sex (f! receiving), edging, slight overstim, cum eating, slight subdrop, aftercare

You ask and you shall receive…~

Ever since we were kids, I was hopelessly in love with Izuku Midoriya.

The way he would hug me so tightly, squishing his cheeks against mine.

Even as we got older, the cuddling never ended.

Once we graduated from high school, we started to become distant.

He was always busy.

I watched his saves on the news, biting my nails as I sat on the edge of my seat.

It wasn’t until the night that my apartment complex was attacked that I finally saw him again.

I was barely conscious the first time, but the parts I remember…

He was panicking.

I vaguely remember his panicked voice bouncing around my head… telling me I’d be okay.

That he’d never leave again.

That he loves me.

I woke up in the hospital just a few hours later, Izuku was just outside my hospital room as he talked to some of the staff.

He hurried in once he saw that I was awake, smiling brightly at me as tears pricked his eyes.

“Oh, Y/N… I’m so glad you’re okay..!” He reached out to cup my face in his hands, rubbing my cheeks softly as he looked down at me.

“Izu…”

“Shh… don’t speak… I want to tell you something…”

I looked up at him with soft eyes, my head still in a daze from the attack as I focused on his words.

“I love you… When you were still dazed you… You confessed to me… I want you to know that… I love you too… and I will never leave you alone like that again… I promise…”

I had passed out after that, but he kept his promise to me.

That’s why now, I’m his little housewife.

I cook and I clean, and I take care of our cat, Milo.

I do everything for him.

But not because he forces me to… he tells me, again and again, I never have to lift a finger… that he’d hire maids to take care of it.

But I like doing these things for him, plus I like things to be in a specific order.

I had finally finished rearranging the living area before he got home.

I’m freshly showered, laying comfortably in one of the recliner chairs in only his hoodie and panties as I eat some soup dumplings, his portion still sitting in the steamer to keep them warm.

I hear the locks on the door and sit up, staring at the door as he walks in, kicking off his shoes and setting them beside the others.

“I’m home- oh! Well, hello there, princess…” He walks over with heavy feet, holding my head and kissing my forehead softly, petting my hair.

“How’s my favorite girl doing?” I smile up at him, my cheeks slightly flushed.

“I’m good! Do you like how I reorganized?” He finally takes the chance to inspect the room, furrowing his brows a bit.

“I told you that you shouldn’t reorganize while I’m not here… what if you hurt yourself moving all of this heavy furniture?” I wave my hand.

“Of course I didn’t… Kacchan and Eijiro popped in around lunchtime… I asked them to pick up some more cat food for Milo. So, while they were here, I asked them to move the heavier things.”

Hearing me say his name, our ginger cat, Milo, hops up on my lap, curling onto the soft blanket thrown across my lower body.

“Well, I’m glad for that. How much did they get? How much do I owe them?”

“Kacchan said not to worry about it! Just as long as we promise to cat-sit for him next weekend!”

“But… I work next weekend…” I set my empty plate down on the coffee table, tilting my head as I smile up at him.

“I know, silly. I’ll be watching his cat, don’t you worry!” His eyes soften as he looks down at me, resting his large hand against my head.

“You’re so sweet, baby…” I flush under his gaze.

“So, what did you eat before I got here?” He takes the empty plate from the coffee table.

“Soup dumplings! I know you like the stuff from the convenience stores but… I wanted to try to make them myself! I thought they were yummy, but yours are still in the steamer! I used a different soup for yours!”

He moves towards the steamer and transfers his dumplings onto my used plate, moving back towards me. I picked Milo up and put him on his bed, watching as Izuku sat in the seat I was just in.

He shoves one into his mouth, chewing slowly.

I tug at my fingers, a little nervous about whether he likes them or not.

“Izu..?” He smiles up at me, swallowing the food.

“These are great! I won’t ever need any from the convenience store again!” I smile so hard my cheeks hurt, holding my cheeks as he finishes eating.

He stands and moves so he’s in front of me, leaning down to kiss my cheek.

“Thank you, baby. You’re the best. How about you go to our room?”

“I have to wash your plate…”

“I got it, okay? It’s just one…” I nod and head into our room, undoing the covers a bit so we can both get in.

I find my phone and plug it in, answering a few unanswered texts before turning it off and setting it to the side.

Izuku comes back with nothing but a pair of basketball shorts on, kneading one of his large hands into his shoulder blades.

“Do you… want me to massage your shoulders, Izu..?”

“Oh… no, baby… I’m fine… I actually… wanted to do something for you tonight…” I watch with cautious eyes as he starts to crawl onto the bed, slipping under the covers and moving so he’s on top of me.

“H-huh..? What for..?”

“Hm… dunno… you’re just too cute… I wanna spoil you…” I blush heavily as he leans in, kissing my lips softly.

His kisses become deeper and more passionate, leaving me struggling for air before I pull away.

He doesn’t stop when I do, though, moving his lips to trail wet kisses down my jaw to my neck.

He grabs my wrists to lift me, pulling the hoodie over my head and tossing it onto the floor.

I pout as he does, missing the warmth already.

Soon, that warmth was replaced by his body, him taking the opportunity to suck and nibble on my neck better.

He moves down to nibble and kiss my collarbone gently, reaching with one of his hands to wrap around my throat.

It wasn’t enough to restrict my breathing at all, just laying there to show me that he was the one in control.

As if he isn’t always in control…

He grabs onto one of my breasts with his free hand, latching his lips onto it as he sucks gently, kneading my nipple with his tongue.

By now, I was a panting and whining mess, my panties soaked from my arousal as I rubbed my thighs together for some sort of friction.

He notices my movements and lifts his head to look at me, his pupils blown as he stares at me full of lust.

“Can I lick your pussy, princess..? I’ve been thinking about your sweet juices on my tongue all day…”

If I wasn’t blushing before, I definitely was now.

I felt the heat rise from my pulsing core up my chest and neck to my cheeks, traveling up to my ears.

I nod shyly, opening my legs up for him as he smiles widely, a hint of mischief behind his smile.

“Oh, you’re too kind, baby…” His head disappears under the covers as he runs his fingers up my soaked panties, making my body twitch due to the unexpected touch.

“My, my… is my baby sensitive already..? I should take care of that…” He kisses me through my soaked underwear, teasing it with kitty licks before lifting my hips with his hands and sliding them off.

His face appears from under the covers for a brief moment, watching as he sniffs my soaked panties.

I blush even harder, my thighs starting to tremble from the lewd display in front of me.

He tosses the panties onto the floor before ducking his head under the covers again.

I feel him kiss my inner thighs, teasingly slow as he gets closer to my pussy before switching to the other thigh.

I was trembling with anticipation, my hole clenching around nothing as I whined.

“Shh… be patient… all this teasing will make it feel so good… you’ll be so sensitive from just one orgasm, you won’t be able to handle another one…” He blows on my pussy the slightest bit, and even that was enough to make my whole body jerk.

“See..?” He hooks his arms around my thighs, his grip firm but not painful as he slowly licks up my slit, my body jolting as my head falls back against the pillows, a needy moan leaving my lips as he does it again.

He eats me out agonizingly slow, bringing me to the brink of an orgasm before stopping entirely, leaving me a whining mess.

Tears were streaming down my cheeks by now, the pleasure being too much from the lack of release.

My grip on the sheets was so fierce, that my knuckles were turning white.

“P-Please..!” I manage to sputter out.

He unlatches his lips from my clit, moving so that I could see his face from under the covers.

“Please what, darling? Do you want to cum..?” I nod, sitting up on my elbows to look at him better.

“Y-Yes, please… I-I’m so sensitive… I just wanna cum… Can I cum..? Please..?” His fingers brush against my clit and I jolt, my body still sensitive from being edged three different times.

“Well… since you asked so nicely… I have to give my princess what she wants, right?” I nod eagerly.

“Feels so good, Izu… Wanna cum just for you…” He smiles up at me softly, hiding under the covers again.

I feel no movement for a moment before being completely engulfed in pleasure.

I could feel his tongue buried as deep as it would go, my walls clenching pathetically around it as he swipes his nose against my clit.

The sounds of him lapping up my pussy were my undoing, my body tensing for a moment before I reach my orgasm.

My hips buck up into his mouth involuntarily, my fingers finding their place in his emerald green curls as I tug, riding his face to feel the most pleasure.

My vision was a bit spotty, the pleasure completely clouding my brain as I started to calm down, releasing his hair as I twitched from his continuous licks.

He doesn’t stop until the last of my cum is gone, leaving me twitching with sensitivity as he kisses up my belly.

His face appears from under the covers again, the cutest smile on display as he kisses my belly, keeping eye contact with me.

“You taste so good… thank you for letting me enjoy you…” I could only hum in response, his tongue having fucked me stupid as I drop my head against the pillows.

It takes a few minutes before I come down from my high, realizing that he had moved me to lay on his lap, my back against his chest.

“D-Did you finish..?” He kisses the top of my head, chuckling softly.

“Your moans were enough to make me cum twice, princess… how do you feel..?” I blush, realizing that I forgot he was such a pleasure dom.

“I’m still tingling… it felt really good…”

“Hm… I guess I’ve been neglecting you then… I don’t think you ever came that hard before…”

“It… has been a while… doesn’t help that I’m not allowed to touch myself when you’re not here…” He laughs softly, kissing the top of my head again.

“I’m not changing that rule, by the way. Now, I want you to sleep. And… can I ask you a quick question?” I nod softly, my eyes becoming heavy as I close them, ready to sleep at any second.

“Would you mind if I… woke you up with my tongue..?” The heat rushes to my cheeks again, but it’s not enough to get me to open my eyes.

“I wouldn’t mind… but if I say my safe word…”

“I will stop immediately. You’ve never had to use the safe word and I hope you never will.”

I smile, moving my body so I can hug him, inhaling his scent.

“I love you, Izu… thank you for always being my hero…” I fall asleep shortly after that, not conscious when Izuku kisses the top of my head again, blushing.

“I love you too, Y/N… goodnight…”

#bnha #deku #deku x reader #deku smut #dom/sub #pleasure dom #izuku smut #bnha izuku

547 notes · View notes

aphrodijin · 2 years ago

Text

swing life away | min yoongi

pairing: min yoongi x fem!reader

synopsis: it's your first anniversary as a married couple but not only did you forget today's special occasion, you also didn't prepare a self-made gift for your husband -- except for the bundle of joy in your womb.

rating: 18+

word count: 5.2k

tags/content warning: married au, pregnancy, slight angst, miscommunication, mentions of infidelity (no one's cheating), mentions of food and being vegan (no one's vegan), usage of babe/baby as endearment, semi-public sex, SMUT in the forms of oral sex (m. receiving), fingering, unprotected sex (don't do this unless you want kids or std), slight spanking, yoongi being a carpenter/loving husband/dumpling/etc.

this fic is inspired by the song "swing life away" by rise against and yoongi's woodcarving vlog :] enjoy!

Min Yoongi was many things.

He’s a skilled carpenter with his own woodshop business by day, and a rising songwriter/record producer by night. He’s a confident all-star basketball player back in his high school days and can still shoot perfectly whenever he plays with some of your shared friends in the backyard these days. He’s a great cook too, always indulging your cravings.

Min Yoongi was many things but most importantly, he’s your husband.

And a very observant one.

It’s been more than a month when he first noticed it. He wasn’t exactly sure what was “it,” but he knew it wasn’t good. He could tell there was something bothering in your mind one night you went home from work and claimed it’s nothing instead of ranting to him like the usual. Just a bad day at work.

A week after that was when you started to stay long hours at work, looking more pale and exhausted when you get home. It baffled Yoongi why you would spend more hours there if it’s stressing you and you’ve never actually worked overtime, but he knew he’s not one to talk about spending more time at work when he has two jobs and does one of those said jobs at home, so he shut his mouth. He didn’t say anything.

Not when you changed your perfume from an intoxicating fruity scent to a soft floral one. Not when he saw a receipt of you having your car interior cleaned and also changed the smell of it. Not when you didn’t want to have sex anymore, always pushing his hands away when they start to wander down there.

A lot of new small things bothered him, especially the last one but what made him almost lose it was when you had mistaken his dish, the one you claimed to be your favorite, for a different one.

x◇x◇x

“Do you like it?”

You nodded, despite still blowing the steam off of your spoon. When you finally tasted it though, he could tell on the look on your face that there’s something missing on his dish. “What is it? Did I not put enough fish sauce or tomato sauce?”

“You put fish sauce in this?” You asked, smiling adorably at your husband and reached across the table to hold his hand in assurance. “It tastes fine, babe, but there’s no need for fish sauce in this. You could’ve added more liver spread and cheese though. You know I love a lot of cheese in this.”

Yoongi closed his eyes for a moment to breathe. He understood the cheese part, you always add cheese to a lot of dishes that doesn’t even need cheese. “Y/N, I didn’t put liver spread because that dish doesn’t require liver spread. It needed fish sauce.”

“What are you talking about? Caldereta is all about the tender beef, tomato sauce, liver spread, and cheese!”

“That's afritada, Y/N. You’re favorite dish back home is afritada.”

Yoongi blinked and composed himself, trying not to look so wounded. He’s so damn sure you’re favorite was afritada, you’ve talked about it a lot. Hell, he’d already cooked it a couple of times before. He had the recipe that he searched online bookmarked on his browser, and he even went to the lengths of jotting them down on his journal just in case the link is taken down.

“Afritada… you mean this is chicken?” You scooped for some meat parts from the reddish soup dish, and there it was, your recent enemy: chicken. “I can’t eat chicken right now, Yoongi, I'm sorry.” You sat straight up, covering your mouth and nose with your hand.

“Of course, it’s chicken. It’s always been chicken, Y/N. It’s a chicken dish, that’s why you love it so much. Or loved, apparently, judging by your actions tonight.”

“I'm sorry,” your voice came out muffled as your hand was still covering your mouth.

“When did you start hating chicken?” he asked as he stood up to take your plate away and check the pantry to prepare something else for you.

“Um, my coworker, Seokhoon, he’s practicing to be a vegan lately so we thought we’d support him by also not eating meat…”

Yoongi’s ears perked up, hearing how your answer sounded uncertain and more like a question, so he pressed more, looking over his shoulder at you. “You were more than ready and excited to eat beef and cheese earlier but you wouldn’t eat chicken right now?”

You stared dumbfoundingly at him before shrugging. “I’m trying with small things like egg and chicken.”

“I made you an omelet for breakfast earlier.” He pointed out, holding your gaze.

“I… just started… to try being vegan earlier at lunch. And also meat are becoming pricey these days, our salary might not be enough. Sooner or later, we’re gonna have to cut back on our expenses. What would you rather give up—chicken or beef?”

Of course, Yoongi would rather eat tofu and bean sprouts for the rest of his life if it meant you get to eat properly and satisfy your cravings. But he didn’t bother to reply that as he cooked you a different dish that night. Fuck Seokhoon for influencing you to be vegan. Fuck the government for the rising prices and not handling the economy better.

x◇x◇x

Ever since that dinner night, Yoongi began to question your marriage. He wanted to talk to you because he didn’t know what to make of your actions anymore, but everytime you two were in the room together, he could you tell you were uncomfortable and couldn’t wait to get out of the situation. Besides, he’s afraid to ask because he knows he’s not prepared for any possible answers you'll give him.

You cheated? Yoongi knew it’s impossible. It had to be because he wouldn’t know what to do with that with that revelation. That would honestly break him.

You lost your job and was just actually driving around town to look for a new one and pass the time? It sounded stupid but not impossible. He would be disappointed and wish that you had told him sooner to prepare and possibly take on a third job.

You’re pregnant? He supposed this is a realistic scenario. You two had talked about this sincerely before getting married, of course, both wanting two kids. He just feels like it’s still early for babies and you two haven’t done all your goals as a married couple before becoming parents.

So he told himself to wait, that you would open up to him when you’re finally ready to unburden your problems. He’s a patient man after all.

But his patience seemed to be running thin today on the morning of your anniversary when he rolled over to your side as he woke up to cuddle you closer and hopefully start the day buried inside you.

He knew you’re awake, even with your eyes closed. You've been waking up earlier than him lately, one of your many changing habits. He took your hand that was hugging your stomach and pressed a soft kiss on your fingers, on your palm, on your wrist, trailing them across your arm up to your shoulder.

“Y/N,” he whispered your name, wishing for you to open your eyes when he nipped at your jaw. He called your name once again as his lips were ghosting over yours. Your eyelashes fluttered open just enough to look at him and when he finally saw your eyes, he leaned down to kiss you deeply.

You freed your hand from his to curl your fingers up into his long hair, urging him closer while the other slid up beneath his shirt, feeling the heat of his body that you’ve been missing for weeks now. You pulled your knees up as Yoongi settled himself in between your legs, grinding his hard cock against your core.

But just as his own hand started to drift down on your hips, you slowed down, giving his lips one last kiss before pressing your forehead to his. You both stayed there without any movements at all, just gasping for air and holding each other’s skin and flesh tightly every now and then.

When it sounded like you were about to apologize, he pressed a kiss on your forehead and whispered, “Happy anniversary, baby,” before bolting right out of the bed, before you could even say it back to him.

x◇x◇x

Despite your husband having his own woodshop and fulfilling his dreams in the music industry, you didn’t let go of your job when you and Yoongi got married.

You were on your way back to your desk from your third visit to the bathroom that morning when you saw the delivery man on the front door of the store carrying a gigantic bouquet of flowers he almost disappeared behind it.

“Min Y/N?” he asked, looking around the store.

Jia turned to the direction of the bathroom and pointed at you when she saw you. You stayed your feet at your place. You couldn’t speak, you couldn’t move. The flowers looked beautiful—a bouquet of pale and dark red carnations, along with sunflowers, wrapped meticulously in craft paper and tied with a golden ribbon—but there’s a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach that’s making it hard for you to appreciate this.

“This is for you!” The delivery man presented the bouquet to you with a proud smile. When you didn’t move, he gingerly took your arms to place the flowers in them and then took off.

A minute must have passed by yet none of you and your colleagues moved or talked. It wasn’t until a client came in and needed assistance. Jia wrapped her arm around you and walked you back to your desk. As you sat down, you caught sight of the red card sticking out of the flowers. HAPPY 1ST ANNIVERSARY, BABY.

Reading Yoongi's handwritten note, you recognized that bad feeling again that you knew all too well lately. Shame and guilt. You had to close your eyes and practice your breathing exercises before those bad feelings in your stomach turn into a pile of chunky vomit across the floor.

Jia, oblivious to your anxiety, swooned over the flowers. “Happy anniversary, Y/N!”

It’s the second greeting you’ve received today and you couldn’t help but wince when you remember how you froze when Yoongi greeted you.

You didn’t know how this special event slipped up your mind when staring at your calendar was all you’ve been doing lately. You were aware that your own anniversary was near and you even had a lot of ideas for DIY gifts to give to your husband.

You tried to make it up to Yoongi by going after him and showering together to have some hot shower sex even though the thought of sex was making you nervous lately. Yoongi turned down the offer though, saying you’re both gonna be late for work, which was a very pathetic excuse considering he’s his own boss and your own work doesn’t start in a couple of hours. So you showered together in silence.

Just as you’re about to calm down, you’re eyes widened in panic because not only you forgot your own anniversary day, of course you also forgot to actually make a gift despite tons of ideas in your journal and Pinterest board.

“Jia, I didn’t get him a gift!” It wasn’t even noon yet, and you’re already close to breaking down for the third time today.

“Well, the department store is just around the corner. I can come with you at lunch to buy something last minute.”

You shook your head and explained to her that buying some expensive stuff isn’t enough. Knowing your husband, he already made you a gift days ago. You’re not sure if it’s something from his woodshop or if he composed you a song, all you know is Yoongi probably made you a gift with love. No amount of money could compare to that.

“Well, there’s always sex?” At the sight of your face crumpling once again, Jia took back her suggestion. “Or not! Honestly, Y/N, this is why I’m all single and alone in life so I don’t have to give people gifts and you’re making me stress about your own anniversary gift.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“And really, you’re worrying about gifts when…” she paused to look down at your belly. “Have you told him yet?”

You shook your head.

“Well, there’s your anniversary gift, congratulations!”

“This is a stupid gift." Despite your harsh words, you wrapped arm protectively around your middle.

“Why? You said you want to give him something you made, well you made that. He even helped, too!”

You couldn’t possibly just announce you’re pregnant on your anniversary day? Right? Sure, it’s convenient and practical – two celebrations in one night!

But that’s not the actual thing that’s been bothering you. You’ve been hiding your condition to your husband for weeks now, when you should have told him that he’s a gonna be a dad the moment you saw the plus sign on a stick. But you didn’t because you’re scared and if you’re gonna be honest, also selfish. Selfish to have Yoongi the Husband™️ all to yourself just for a couple more days before he turns into Yoongi, your husband and the father of your unborn fetus. And then that selfishness turns into guilt for not telling him, for distancing yourself.

A part of you wished he’ll figure it out on his own, that’ll save you a speech.

x◇x◇x

Even before you started to spent late hours at work, Yoongi always comes home an hour or so before you. It usually gives him enough time to prepare for dinner.

However today, he asked his friend Seokjin to prepare a romantic dinner for you two as he would busy himself installing the porch swing he made as his anniversary gift for you.

With his long hair tied in a half bun, a few strands tucked behind his ears and locked into place with pins, and a safety googles on his face, Yoongi began by drilling two holes up into the ceiling joists where he would screw the hooks. When he’s done and swept away the dust, he took the chains that’s wrapped in rope for extra support and aesthetic purposes and attached them to swing before hoisting them up to the hooks.

Despite wanting his gift to be all handmade, Yoongi had no choice but to buy a small foam mattress and throw pillows to decorate the swing. He placed them all nicely and removed his googles before sitting down and testing the swing if it runs smoothly.

Swinging for a couple of minutes gave Yoongi enough time to relax from the stress of his jobs, from setting this swing up, from all his fears and worries.

It gave him enough peace from all the doubts and questions inside his head. He hoped that this would give you the same. He hoped that you seeing this swing – the one you dreamed for so long, the one that he promised you because how could he ever say no – will help you remember that the fact that you two get to celebrate this day was because of your love for each other and the trust you’ve built all these years even before marrying.

Yoongi had set up the swing in the right side of the house, facing a line of tall trees that secludes this house from the main road, and close enough to the backyard for some peace and privacy that if anyone walks or drives in to your lot, they wouldn’t see you right away as the beams would hinder their sight. But anyone who’s sitting here would see just fine if there’s someone coming in.

Just like Yoongi saw your car rolled in right away to park next to his pickup truck. He stood up and waved his arm to call your attention, excited to show you his gift. When you didn’t see him, he jogged up to the front and flashed a smile when you jumped up in surprise at the sight of him.

“What are you doing outside?”

“I have to show you something, come on!” He went to cover your eyes for surprise and guided you to the back.

You were expecting some surprise in the backyard, probably a dinner he cooked but your assumptions came into a halt as Yoongi stopped only after taking a few steps. When he removed his hands and told you to open your eyes, a cozy porch swing greeted your sight.

“That’s…” you trailed off, walking closer and wrapping your hand around the chain-rope. From the bulky design of the chain and rope to the uneven height of the wooden slabs of the back support, Yoongi made you the exact wooden swing that you drunkenly drew a long time ago when you two just started dating.

“Happy anniversary, Y/N.” You heard Yoongi say behind you, and you wish he had said it the way he greeted you this morning – with such coldness and hurt. You felt like you didn’t deserve this with the way you’ve been treating him this past month.

Not wanting to hurt him any longer and bring back normalcy in your relationship, you turned to look at him, your eyes teary and said, “I… I'm sorry, babe.”

“Why? What is it?”

“I…” You cleared your throat and wondered which should you say first: you didn’t get him any gift, or you’re pregnant. You figured you should go with the bad news first before softening the mood with the good news, you’re just not sure which is which. “I didn’t get you any gift. I actually forgot it’s our anniversary today, I’m sorry.”

Yoongi fell silent before chuckling nervously. Sure, forgetting your own anniversary was bad, but that’s little compared to what Yoongi was imagining these past few days. “That’s alright, I thought it was something serious.”

“Why? What did you think I was going to say?” you prodded before you drop your next bomb.

“I don’t know what I thought, honestly. Things haven’t been quite well with us lately, Y/N.” He shrugged, scratching his nape. “I thought of pregnancy. There’s one where you don’t actually have a job anymore and just didn’t want to say it. I also thought you’re cheating with fucking Seokhoon—”

“Seok-Seokhoon? Why the hell would you think that? I couldn’t stand that guy.”

“I don’t know Y/N, you tell me, you’re the one who suddenly didn’t want to eat chicken because fucking Seokhoon is trying to be vegan.”

You thought about the lamb chops Seokhoon devoured at lunch today. You also remembered the night Yoongi was referring to, when you almost spilled your guts literally and figuratively at the smell of the chicken.

“Seokhoon isn’t vegan. But one of your hunches is true.” You walked towards him, taking his hand in yours and placing it on your stomach. “I’m pregnant.”

Yoongi froze for a minute, staring at your eyes down to your stomach that he’s touching. His gummy smile slowly broke into his face, giggling as he asked to confirm, “Pregnant? With babies?”

You nodded, matching his smile. “Yeah, pregnant, but hopefully just a singular baby. Or fetus, I’m not sure, I haven’t been to a clinic yet. I was putting it off because I want you to be there at the first checkup since I left you in the dark when I took the test. I'm really sorry about that, Yoongi, I just didn’t know how to say it. I was scared and nervous myself about this baby and I kn—”

Yoongi cut off your ramblings by kissing you. “I'm sorry. I'm sorry I thought you were cheating when you were feeling this way all on your own. I should’ve asked you.”

You shook you head. “I'm sorry I let you think that, too. But there’s no way I would’ve betray you for Seokhoon or anyone else, really. I love you so much, Yoongi.”

You stood in your toes to kiss him again, muttering again and again how much you love him and how sorry you were. His hands stayed firmly on each side of you, and you didn’t pushed him away this time. You looped your arms around his neck and tugged him closer.

This one kiss – after all those weeks of just pecking and short kisses, after the frustrating mess that happened earlier morning – was so hungry and powerful and mind-numbing. You wouldn’t even wanna stop if a lightning strike near you two. You missed him so much, you would’ve take him right here, right now.

But Yoongi pulled away, breathing ruggedly as he said, “You haven’t tried it yet.”

“Tried the what yet?”

“The swing, don’t you wanna take a ride on it?”

Despite his innocent question referring to the swing, your eyes mischievously glinted and an idea popped into your mind. You took his hand and gestured for him to sit down. Trying to calm yourself down, you kissed your husband first before prying his legs open and kneeling down between them, instead of sitting beside him.

“What are you doing?” he smirked, enjoying the sight in front of him.

“I was thinking I could ride you on it instead, but first…”

With a coy smile, you unbuttoned his pants and pulled them down along with his underwear, freeing his hard cock. Licking your lips in anticipation, you wrapped your hand around him, thumb circling at the precum beading on his crown.

Yoongi hissed at sensation, bucking his hips up. “Fuck, baby, don’t tease me. It’s been a month.” His hands ran through your hair to keep them out of the way and prompted for you to start.

“Happy anniversary,” you greeted him before placing sloppy, wet mouth kisses on the head of his dick and moving them down while your hand was steadily stroking the base and the other was gently squeezing and rolling his balls.

When you made sure to coat every inch of his cock with your saliva, you kissed his crown one more time before taking him in your mouth, trying to fit whatever you can while your hand covered the rest.

“Ahh, that feels so good, babe. I’ve really missed you,” he rasped.

You moaned around him as you felt yourself getting wet even just at the sound of his voice and at the feeling of his heavy cock sliding in and out of your mouth. One of his hands weaved into your hair once again to carefully guide you at the pace he wanted. He bit his lip in concentration as he tried to restrain himself from just snapping his hips up to fuck your face but failing a couple of times, making you choke and teary-eyed.

Yoongi couldn’t help but groan at the sight of you, mouth wide open full of his cock, eyes in tears staring up at him. His other hand cupped your jaw, his thumb caressing your cheek.

“You’re doing so good, baby, taking my cock so well.”

His moans were getting louder and he started to lose control of his hips, a sign that Yoongi’s close to his orgasm. You released his cock to tease him a little bit, swirling your tongue over again at the sensitive spot of his crown as you pumped his length, making him all whiny as he repeated your name again and again like a mantra along with few curse words, before sucking him whole again with the intention of swallowing his hot cum. Which Yoongi delivered, a lot. And loudly.

You pulled yourself off of his cock, still semi-hard, and opened your mouth to show him that you’ve swallowed every drop of his cum. Still breathing heavily, Yoongi smiled proudly at you. “You’re gonna be the fucking death of me, Y/N baby. Come here.”

“Not to doubt you, but are you sure this won’t give out on us?” You asked, looking up at the ceiling where the swing is hanging.

“Of course not, at least three people can sit here. We’ll be fine, even when we finally have our kid sitting down here with us,” he replied, helping you get up at your feet.

You stared down at him, grinning at the thought of your kid playing at this very porch swing their daddy made in the future. But first, it’s gonna mommy and daddy’s turn on the swing for a while.

Because of the disastrous shower session earlier, you tried to make it up to your husband by wearing his favorite black lace lingerie underneath one of your red dress that gave out the equal vibe of classy and slutty to entice him on. You also figured, might as well wear them while you still can.

You unbuttoned the dress open from the top, revealing the lacy bra, causing Yoongi to raise his eyebrows.

“You wore lingerie to work?”

“Yeah, it turned out to be quite itchy and uncomfortable to wear for a long time actually,” you pouted. “Help me out of it, please.”

Yoongi leaned forward, one of his hands held you firmly by your waist while the other slipped beneath your dress, running his fingertips along the edge of your underwear before pulling them aside to sink a finger inside your cunt and moving it in a ‘come hither' motion. He added another finger while his thumb drew circles on your clit to send you over the edge.

You gasped, your hands paused from unclasping your bra to balance yourself on your husband’s shoulders as he stretched you out, spreading your slick all over your slit. When your juices had dripped down on his wrist, Yoongi took that as a cue that you’re wet enough and hooked his hands around your underwear to remove them before pulling you into his lap.

He gathered the skirt of your dress, bunching them up to your waist. You bit your lower lip as your pussy was pressing against his cock, feeling hard and thick against your wet core. Feeling impatient as Yoongi kissed your neck, you tried to move your hips, chasing that pleasure the friction gave you, in which you earned a gentle slap in the ass from him.

“Take this off,” he said, toying with the strap of your bra.

You nodded like a good girl, unclasping them from behind and took the straps of your shoulders. Yoongi pulled down your dress, revealing your tits. He stared at them for a second, both of his hands cupping each breast gently, thumbs grazing your soft skin and hardened nipple. You were about to make a joke when he leaned down to start licking and sucking one of your tits, while he massaged the other one.

While he was busy, you attempted to get yourself off by rocking your hips against him again, whether on his cock or his thigh, you didn’t care. A cry left your lips when he slapped your ass once again, a bit harder this time, before proceeding to grab your ass in his hands and dig his fingers in to help you move. You whimpered every time your sensitive clit rubbed pass his tip, making him almost poked your entrance.

Yoongi switched his attention on your other tit, but never faltering his movement to make you come on his cock. He could feel you’re close, your folds fluttering against his cock, your hips jerking more uncontrollably, your juices running down on his skin to the foam cushion he newly bought, making a mental note to buy a new one.

“Y—Yoongi…” you moaned, eyes scrunched close and head thrown back. “Oh, I'm gonna—oh fuck Yoongi—”

He looked up from your chest to stare at the fucked out expression on your face as you come, his hands on your hips controlling your move to help you ride out your orgasm. When he felt that you’re almost done coming down from your high, Yoongi lifted you up to line his tip against your entrance and helped you sink down on his cock. You moaned loudly at the feeling of your cunt being stretched out so deliciously after a month without an intercourse.

None of you spoke for a while, but you were thankful that Yoongi didn’t fuck you right away and instead let you adjust to the size as he sucked and nibbled every inch of your skin.

“If I’m pregnant right now, does that mean we don’t need a condom for a while? Or you can still get me pregnant while I’m pregnant?”

“It can happen, but it’s rare.” Yoongi saw your concerned expression, so he asked, “Do you want me to wear one?”

You smiled and shook your head immediately. “No. I want to feel you.” With that being said, you hooked your arms across his shoulders and started to bounce on his cock, grinding your clit on his pelvis everytime you come down.

Despite the frustrations and longing that Yoongi had built up for a month, he managed to calmly hold back and sit there as you ride him. At the back of his mind, he was also hesitant to pound his dick in and out of you without a care because he’s afraid he might hurt the baby. So he let you control the pace while his hands wander over your body, palming your tits and smacking your ass.

“Ahh Yoongi… please, fuck me.” You couldn’t keep your upper body straight anymore as your walls began on clenching around his dick, so you leaned your head on his shoulder. “I can’t—I feel so close again…”

“I know, baby, I got you now. You did great,” Yoongi whispered tenderly, placing a kiss on your head. He gripped your thighs in place, thrusting his hips upward into you and picked up the pace to bring you to your second orgasm.

You cried out in pleasure as Yoongi kept hitting that sweet spot inside you, your body beginning to tremble in his arms. You could feel him getting close too by the way his thrusts were being quick and sloppy so you curled your hand around the curly strands on his nape, your lips leaving wet kisses on his neck as you tried to give him hickeys.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, holy shit baby…”

You were lucky you live in a remote place and didn’t have any neighbors for miles as they would’ve surely heard Yoongi's loud groans and your high-pitched moans as you came together. Yoongi had thrust one more time inside you, bringing your hips down as he flushed your bodies together and filled your cunt with his thick cum.

None of you wanted to move at that moment, just catching up on your breaths and occasionally rocking your hips into each other for a potential round two when your stomach had a sudden craving — dumplings.

And dumplings reminded you of — “Oh my, god, we’re gonna have a baby dumpling in a few months.”

“I’m not a dumpling,” he groaned, burying his face on the crook of your neck as you laugh.

Min Yoongi was many things—a carpenter, a songwriter and producer, a basketball player, a dumpling (despite his denial), your loving husband, and in a few months, a proud father.

Hello! Thank you so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed it and please, reblogs and feedbacks are always welcome and appreciated :)

If you want to support me and help with my dental care funds, please consider tipping me at ko-fi.com/aphrodijin or commission me to write you a fic. I could really use some help.

Thank you so much once again, have a great day! x

©️ 2022 aphrodijin

3K notes · View notes

aeli-tan-art · 13 days ago

Note

For the trio, what are their respective love languages?

wasn't that debunked or something? 😂 in any case I'll just jot down the things they do with/for each other

Dee

likes to cook (tends to get experimental, those two flavors shouldn't work together in theory, but somehow they do)

very vocal and physical with his love, almost like actively trying to give the people he loves everything he's been denied to in the past

most of the time he does a lot of compromising to his detriment, that's why on the rare occasions that he wants something, Ronnie tends to give in

likes to do the planning, the guy who gets everyone at the airport on time, holds all the passports, makes all the bookings

cannot sleep without holding/touching someone

there's hundreds of little sketches of both Ronnie and Liam all over the house

Liam

the guy with the most random of knowledge, knows places like this teeny, tiny shop that's above a super dingy spaceport warehouse in the middle of nowhere that serves the most immaculate soup dumplings in the multiverse

he likes to bring them to the weirdest places and experiences just to see how they'd react. Human faces are weird (results are 50/50 for these excursions since he's been out of the loop for so long that things inevitably changed)

tolerates being Dee's weighted blanket/pillow since Dee tends to sleep better while squeezing him

acts as a nightlight for Ronnie while reading in bed. He likes to curl on top of his head since Ronnie has really soft hair. Soon becomes their little routine after Dee falls asleep

Ronnie

he's so detail-oriented that he's usually the first one to notice if anything's amiss

whenever the other 2 encounter even the slightest of inconvenience, the next day there's a robot thingamajig that'll either fix or do the thing for them

protecting them is like an automatic response for him, like covering the sharp corner of the table with his hand to make sure they don't get hurt when they move

whenever the nightmares get really bad, he pulls out his banjo and sings them to sleep

taught the other 2 hambone and prefers to say endearments through taps

#overlords au lore

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chaosheadspace · 10 months ago

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A little birthday gift for @seiya-starsniper. May your new year of life be full of happiness and joy! Also tagging @ginoeh, because the start of this is technically me misinterpreting one of her prompts, lol.

Without further ado, have some Dream raiding Hob's dreams post-fishbowl.

Stars twinkle through the window as Hob stands in his kitchen and cooks. It is late, but he is hungry, having forgotten the time grading. He’s got a day off tomorrow though, and so he is making himself a rather elaborate feast, because he feels like it. Because he can.

The light summer breeze coming through the window stirs the various smells about, sauteed onion and tomatoes and beef, spices and fat and broth, warm milk for hot chocolate and the dense, syrupy sweetness of baking apples. He’s never been good at moderation, least of all with food. Sue him. There’s a few candles burning on his kitchen table, decked out with earthenware, and through the speakers of his radio is playing a song he’s quite convinced he’s heard some time in the seventeenth century. It’s really crazy what musicians nowadays dig back up and incorporate into their music.

Just as he stirs the pumpkin soup bubbling on the back burner, there’s a low sound behind him. Hob turns, the dripping spoon still in his hand. “Oh,” he blurts out, “I am dreaming.”

Because there, in front of him, stands his stranger, who snubbed him at their last appointment, who he hasn’t seen in much longer than a hundred years. Who definitely, positively, has deep, black pits for eyes, who looks even more gaunt than usual, malnourished, even, and who is absolutely bang naked. He has to be dreaming. The music suddenly makes a lot more sense. The dishware, too, really.

“You are,” his stranger says, and even his voice is different, cavernous, deep and soft like his eyes.

“You’re welcome here, regardless,” Hob tells him. “You can have a shirt and sweats from me, if you want. Soup will be ready in just a tick.” He can see him swallow, hard, the movement of his Adam's apple on his slim neck stark.

“Very well,” he says, turning away. “See that it is.”

When he comes back, he’s wearing one of Hob’s old band shirts that’s somehow black now, and a pair of pajama pants with little yellow stars on them. Hob smiles, motions for him to sit down, and puts a bowl of the promised soup in front of him, steaming and fragrant, spiced with curry and nutmeg and roasted sesame seeds.

His friend wastes no time, forgoes the spoon entirely and lifts the bowl to his face to drink, his bony fingers clutching the glazed dish tight, uncaring about its heat. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t breathe until the heavy bowl is empty. Then he holds it out to Hob, the rim clutched between three fingers as if it weighs nothing. “More,” he demands, and Hob obliges.

This goes on four more times, and then the pot is empty. Next Hob serves up venison pasties, and he’s more than a little smug as his stranger devours the first one in just three bites, but Hob figures he’s allowed. “They’re good, right?” he says. His friend just glowers at him and reaches for the next one. When the pasties are gone, there’s dumplings and omelette and the apple pie.

It all vanishes, piece by piece, bit by bit, bite for bite, into his stranger. Afterwards, they look at each other in silence, Hob stunned at the speed it all vanished, his stranger apologetic for some reason. Then the silence is cut by the rather loudly growling stomach of his friend.

“I. uhm. I could make you some pasta?” Hob offers. “Maybe some pudding, too, let’s see…”

“No,” he’s interrupted just as he gets up. “I am afraid I have to hurry. There are things I have to tend to rather urgently. I thank you for being so hospitable.”

Suddenly they are standing in the doorway again, from one second to the next, Hob blinking up confusedly intovast, starlit eyes. They’re close, closer than they’ve ever been. There is no warmth emanating from his stranger, just a heavy, almost humming sense of presence that draws Hob in.

“Do you have to go?” He pleads. “Maybe I could—”

“I am afraid I cannot delay my task any further, Hob.” His stranger shakes his head. “I thank you for this.”

“Wait,” Hob says, desperately. “This is a dream, right?”

His stranger turns back around, the look on his face incredulous. “Yes,” he confirms for the second time, “it is.”

“So there’s no harm in doing this then,” Hob murmurs, stepping closer, gently placing one hand upon a lily-white neck. His friend shivers. Hob gets up on his toes and slowly, gently kisses his brow. “I hope you fare well,” he whispers, “and I will not give up hope to see you again when I am awake.”

From one moment to the next, Hob is alone. There is a relieving sense of loss in him, like a splinter being drawn from a wound.

Hob wakes.

#chaosheadspace's writing #Dream of the Endless #Hob gadling #Dreamling if you squint #the sandman

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katsukiizmoon · 2 years ago

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Desc: Talkin’ bout Katsuki while you’re pregnant & when you have a daughter

No cause now all I can think about is katsuki with a daughter :( everyone Shutup I’m usually more immune to baby fever but oh god…. >:( katsuki needs to give me a baby girl

I can go into details and I will

Buys a giant wardrobe for her before she’s even born. Has custom made dynamight baby clothes made just for her.

Reads every parenting book known to man and has a binder of development notes!! This man has written down everything from how to cure baby gas to the best learning tools and methods for little ones

Makes freezer prep meals for when you’re post-partum and struggling ! Soup cubes, one pan sheet meals, instant pot dinners, the works. He makes frozen mandu (Korean dumplings) for an easy snack.

SLATHERS you in Shea butter and bio oil throughout your pregnancy, giving you rubs up and down all the time

Begins impulse buying childrens books and toys any time he steps into a store

Your home now has an entire room dedicated to the items he had either BUILT or BOUGHT for your child. Shelves are secured to the wall, filled with every book and pack of flash cards he’s purchased

Lays her down on his chest for quick naps with dragon tales on, humming to soothe her to avoid hics and sniffs from his beloved baby

Calls her “angel” for the longest time but here’s a list of other nicknames he uses: “squirt” , “shithead” , “princess” , “little spark”

Has the baby’s footprints stamped on thick cardstock for every two months she grows, until she hits a year. At a year he begins doing it every 6 months.

Starts teaching her to bake early on, all their favorite treats. They sit afterwards and eat to their hearts content until she inevitably knocks out on his chest watching Disney movies

Let’s her paint his nails as soon as she’s old enough. When she hits an age where it’s appropriate, they begin getting matching pedicures with you every month

Also post partum he spends time fixing you warm baths to soak in and love yourself in, while he holds the little one and makes dinner

Also also when you’re pregnant he literally has a brand new toilet installed to help you so you won’t need a peri bottle as much when you go to the bathroom :(((

Bathroom? Stocked with everything you can imagine. Tiny fridge for your padsicles? Check. Adult diapers? Check. Stool softener? Check. Baby wipes? Check! Anything you need, is stocked to the brim

Makes it mandatory that for the first 7 days of your little one’s life, only you and him will be around the baby. No visitors pressuring you, none of that. He plans the entire week in advance and tries to account for how tired you’ll be. The first thing he tells you to do when you get home is to get some sleep, and you do.

Calls his mom for help when you’re both a little too stressed and has her watch the baby in the play room so the two of you can have an hour nap

Takes you out to different attractions every week and/or has a “mommy day” planned each week to help lessen the chance of post partum depression

I just truly think he’d worship the ground yoj walked on and pave the way for her. He’d tell her how much he loves her every day. I bet he even puts a mild lavender lotion on her before she sleeps to help her rest and relax.

When she’s a newborn and going through the phase of refusing sleep, he gets you in bed and rocks her in the rocking chair until she’s asleep. He also demands the baby SHARE a room with you until she gets to at least 7-8 months. Baby cameras everywhere. Everything is baby proof. If you think it isn’t, it is.

When I die, The first thing I’m doing is having katsuki knock me up so we can live a happy life with a little one.

#bakugou #katsukibakugou #bakugo x reader #bakugo headcanons #bakugo headcanon #mha x reader #bakugo x yn #bakugou x y/n #bakugou x you #bakugou headcanons #katsuki bakugou x reader #star anise #strawberry cake

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romerona · 1 year ago

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All Y/N ever wanted to do was sing her songs and be free. Yet somehow, after offering to pay for the meal of a certain boy in a straw hat she finds herself causing havoc through the East Blue.

Masterlist - Next.

Trigger warning: Harassment, canon violence. Word count: 8K

A/N: The only thing I will be describing about Y/N is her hair colour. Everything else you can imagine her as you wish.

Disclaimer: The songs I will be using in this fic aren't mine bc I have 0 creativity. I'm sorry.

Shells Town, 153 Marine Branch.

Y/N, huffing and puffing, speeds walk through the townspeople, she was late for her shift at Food Foo and all because of that absolute idiot.

That little fucking weasel, he is. Ugh!!! just thinking about it makes her blood boil even more. Whatever, it’s her own fault, she should have known better than to get close to Cygnus or any man really.

She scoffs to herself. ‘She’s no good’ As if he was any better. Both of them had their own things, their own faults, Y/Nthought that was part of why they connected in the first place but it seems she was mistaken. And Y/N would have believed that was his reason for 'dumping' her but she has heard the rumours. She has heard the whispers of him charming up the daughter of one of the lieutenants...

It doesn’t matter anyway, she has been in Shells town for about 6 months now, and she should probably leave soon.

When she finally arrives at Food Fo, Y/N sends Ayana a guilty look when the owner of the restaurant sends her the ‘warning’ look.

Y/N didn’t wait for her to start scolding her, she quickly walked behind the counter, left her guitar there and grabbed her apron, wrapping it around herself and muttering as she did. “I know I know. I’m sorry, Ayana,”

“At least you're here. It seems today is going to be a busy day,” the woman said from the bar, nodding at the plenty of marines, most already falling in their cups.

“Lovely,” Said Y/N with no enthusiasm.

The Marines are the worst. The very fucking worst, they are vile and foul.

Ayana hums in agreement as a cook passes a platter of dumplings, she takes it and then passes it to Y/N before pointing at the table on the back. “Table 5, then take these drinks to 11.”

“Got it,” Y/N nods and quickly makes her way to it, smiling at the customers, a couple, charmingly. “A plate of dumplings for you, a couple of peanuts. Let me know if you need anything else, okay?”

With that, she left to take the drinks to table 11 whilst greeting her coworkers with a smile as she walked past them. Hours pass and Y/N continues her shift, ignoring the shameless flirting and other hiccups…

“Here are your pork chops and Oden Soup, and not to be biased but our Oden Soup is the best in the whole town,” Y/N said as she softly laid the plate on the table before smiling at the couple and parroting, “Okay, let me know if there’s anything else I can help with, okay?”

“Yeah, thanks,” said the guy.

“I wasn’t aware they hire about any skank from the streets,” the girl says under her breath before glaring up at Y/N.

“Bree!!” The boyfriend looks at his girlfriend With exasperation.

The girl, scoffs crossing her arms, “What? Don’t tell me you didn’t notice the way she’s parading herself around? Everyone here notices it,”

“Bree, please can you not?”

“Can I not what, Laurent? Can I not call her out for her attitude, huh? Why are you defending her?”

Y/N purses her lips, holding back the words that want to escape her lips and takes a couple of steps back, “I’m going to go now…”

“Yeah, you do that,” sharply said the girl, once again her narrow eyes on Y/N.

The girl simply turns and makes her way back to the bar. She leans against the bar and closes her eyes, a tired sigh leaves her.

“Bad table?” Asks Asimi, one of her many coworkers and friends.

Y/N shrugs turning to her, “Nothing unusual, but today has not been my day…”

“I’ll switch mine with yours,” said Rei, another waitress, as she passed a new order to the cook. “I have the most entitled Marines right now, they had me return their meals 3 times already because it's just 'not like what they’re used to' like one would think they got their swords stuck up their ass or something,”

Y/N and Asimi laugh.

“I’m being serious, Y/N, switch tables with me. They’ll be less dickheads to you thanks to that pretty face of yours.” Rei said pinching Y/N's cheek.

Y/N shakes her head, moving away from the girl's fingers, “Thanks for the compliment babes but I’ll take my chances with the match made in heaven,”

“Worth a shot,”

Ayana places two cups in front of Y/N and points at the group in the back, “Table 3, please Y/NN,”

Y/N takes the cups and walks to the table of Marines. She once again smiles at the men as she sets the drinks down. “Here you are! Two beers for the gentleman’s.”

“Hey sweetheart, can I get another round of sake?” Said an older Marine from the next table to them.

Y/N nods, “Sure thing, sweets, anything else you want?”

“Is a kiss from you on the menu?” Laughs the old Marine earning chuckles from others.

Ugh! Disgusting!

“Not on this one, fortunately for me!” Y/N said as he picked up a few empty cups. “However, If you read the menu closer there’s your captain's number in there somewhere maybe you can call it so he can give you that kiss you want? Hope you don’t mind steel, though,”

The Marines around them laughed and so did the older man, Y/N was slightly relief because there had been instances where the Marines did not enjoy her… sense of humor.

Y/N didn’t wait for a response she simply took the last empty cups and made her way back to the bar. She turns to Ayana “A bottle of sake for table 4”

Ayana nods as she looks for the bottle, and Y/N lets her head fall back. She pressed her hands on her shoulders.

Gods, she hates working. Why does she continue working in this job?

Then, as if on cue, Y/N felt two tiny arms wrapping themselves around her middle. Ah, yes, because she’s a softy…. And money.

“Y/NN!!” Rika, Ayana’s daughter, looks up at her.

“I was wondering when you’ll show up,” Y/N laughed as she leaned down to return the hug. “How was school, Rikis?”

“It was alright,” Rika shrugs stepping back, she grins. “I practised the cup trick you showed me,”

“Did you? Well, in that case, you have no choice but to show me, little miss,” Y/N smiles at the girl, she nudges the girl with her elbow teasingly as Ayana places the bottle of sake on the bar.

“Nooo…” Rika chuckles hiding her face under her hands.

“Rika, go change,” Ayana tells her daughter motioning the door that leads to the kitchens.

“We’ll talk about it,” Y/N takes the green bottle and winks at Rika as she moves to take the sake to the Marines.

A couple of more hours pass and the bar thankfully the customers flow in and out with ease. Y/N was glad that her shift would soon be over so she could finally play with the band.

“Take the orders from 16, Y/NN, then you're off,” Ayana says with a nod at the two boys who had just sat down at a table.

“Right on,”

Y/N makes her way to the two boys, one of them has pinkish hair, and round glasses and the other a dark curls under a straw hat and a red vest.

“Hello guys, welcome to Food Foo!” Y/N smiles at them like she does with all her customers. “Can I get you, handsome gentlemen, some drinks to start before deciding what to order?”

The boy with pink hair turned a shade of deep red, a shade Y/N had never seen very little in her life, it was kind of funny. “Uh… I- I…”

“No need, I want one of everything and a milk, please.” Said the boy with the straw hat, smiling back at Y/N.

Y/N was slightly surprised but nodded nonetheless, “A big appetite you’ve got there sweets.”

“Ah, I just love food,” the boy said, tapping his stomach with a grin.

“Who doesn’t?” Y/N nods, writing on her pad, “Food is the best part of life, I’ll say.”

“Right?!! It’s just amazing,”

Y/N laughed at his excitement, he was like a puppy. He was cute. She then turns to the boy in round glasses, “What can I get you to drink, pretty boy?”

“Uh… a- a water would be nice, thank you,” the bright red was still displaying itself on the boy's cheeks.

“Alright, everything will be ready in a few minutes, boys,” She told them, “If you want anything else, please don’t hesitate to call for me,”

With a last smile she left them. She then went to do a few more rounds, cleaning away the dishes and cups, collecting money and such before she was called to pick up the food for the two boys.

“Alright, here you are!” Y/N places the plates on the table. “One of everything,”

Before she even finished putting the plates on the table the boy in a straw hat was already almost finishing his first plate.

“Thank you,” the boy said, his muffled by the food in his mouth.

The boy with pink hair sends her a small grin, “Thank you, miss.”

“No problem boys, call if you need anything else,”

As she left, she glanced at the clock and let out a sigh of relief. Her shift is over, thank the gods. She walked behind the counter took off her apron and took her guitar before walking through the kitchens, where she greeted the cooks.

“You playing today, Y/NN?” asks Gunny, one of the cooks, offering her a plate of chips.

She grins at him as she takes one chip, “Yeap, and I better see you at least once, dumpling. Even if it's peaking.”

“Y’know I never miss your performances,” said the man returning her grin.

Y/N walks to the back of the bar where there is a small room for employees, to change into her clothes. She put in a bit of makeup, some light colour over her eyes, a bit of pink in her cheeks and painted her lips a soft red shade.

“You look so pretty, Y/NN… can you paint me too?” asks Rika, she had slithered her way into the small room a few minutes ago and was watching her do her makeup.

“Last I did, your Ma wasn't happy about it, Rikis,” Y/N told her looking at the girl through the mirror as she twisted her silver locks in a loose braid. “And considering she's the one I'm renting my room to and my boss, I’d rather not risk it.”

Rika huffs in disappointment, leaning against the wall. “You think one day I'll be as pretty as you?”

“What do you mean?” Y/N smiles at her and pulls Rika to look at herself in the mirror next to her. “You are the prettiest girl I know, Rikis.”

“Really?” asks the young girl.

Y/N stands from the old vanity table and sits the girl on the chair. “You so are, sweet girl,” She takes the girl's hair to pull it on a half-up style. “See? You have the prettiest face, and a pretty smile and pretty eyes… and most importantly a pretty heart."

Rika smiles at herself in the mirror, and a giggle escapes her. Rika was such a good child, so very kind. As she stares, Y/N wonders with longing if she has grown to be kind and nice, she should be a couple of years older than Rika if Y/N recalls correctly…

“Are you going to play a love song?” asks Rika, snapping Y/N out of her train of thought.

Y/N wrinkles her nose and shakes her head, “Don’t think so, Rikis.”

“Why?”

“I’m just not feeling it,”

“How come? Did something happened with Cygnus? Did you broke up with him?” The young girl inquires, her eyes twinkling with intrigued.

Y/N let’s out a chuckle, “You are very noisy, sweet cheeks.”

“I’m just informative,” Rika shrugs innocently.

“Of course, you are.” Y/N scoffs a laugh, she nudges Rika’s shoulder. “Come, let’s go out.”

“Oh, please Y/NN,”

“Nope. How about you go make me something sweet for after the show?”

They walk outside, Rika complaining about Y/N not telling her but the older girl simply ignores her and leaves her near the counter before walking to the bar band.

“Hello, dears, ready for tonight?” Y/N said as she approached the three older gentlemen, they had been letting her play a few songs a night with them since she arrived, always practising new songs on the slow days and late nights.

Duke, the violinist, nods as he takes a large gulp of his beer. “As always, lovey.”

“Never expect any less,” Y/N grins, she moves to the small wooden stage, guitar on hand and her charm full on.

As soon as she did, a few cheers echoed around the bar.

Using a Den Den Mushi, Y/N’s voice rings out through the room, with a charisma and ease that speaks of years of practice. "Why, hello everybody!" she exclaims, gazing at the growing crowd of Marines and civilians. "How’s the day been treating ya lot? Better than me I hope.”

The audience cheers, and Y/N’s smile grows wider and lets out a laugh. “Very good, very good.. but how about a song to better it, aye?”

She launches into her first ballad, her voice rising with the rhythm of her guitar.

“I've been sleepin' in my mind

But now my heart is risin'

Risin' with the tide

Floating on a wave

Buoyed by the sea

Carry me away 'cause the world is not for me”

The crowd claps along, lost in the music and the charm of the girl on stage. It's a moment of pure joy, as Y/N’s voice fills the room with sweet melody and a spirit of celebration.

As she continues her song, Y/N noticed someone in between the crowd, a blonde pain in the ass. It took everything in her not to roll her eyes at the sight of Helmeppo.

Out of everyone, the son of the captain (as he always likes to remind everyone about) was the most spoiled, disrespectful, persistent and annoying guy she had come across in her short years of freedom and best believe she had met some annoying people but no one can compare to the blonde with the bad hair.

No matter how many times Y/N has asked him to fuck off, he simply refuses to. It’s as if he couldn't understand the words that come out of her mouth… honestly, she’s never one for violence but she’s getting to a limit.

“No matter where you land or how far you may fall

You have heart, you have hands

And the highest calling of our lives

Is to find the grace at the very place we stand”

With the final chords of her song, she finishes with a flourish and a cheerful smile. The crowd erupts in applause and cheers, ready for more of Y/N’s enchanting performances.

“How’s that for starters, eh?” Y/N’s chuckles at the cheers.

She gives the crowd a cheeky grin and strums her guitar with an extra dose of gusto. She launches into another lively tune, her fingers dancing across the strings as she belts out the words. The crowd is absolutely hypnotized, swinging their heads and tapping their feet to the beat. Y/N’s energy is contagious, and it's not long before the whole bar is rocking with cheer.

The vibe is electric, and it's clear that Y/N is the star of the show. Unfortunately, it didn’t last long because just as she was making her way to the second verse there was the loud distinguish sound of a sword being drawn and the loud pompous voice of Helmeppo ran through the bar.

“Oh, come on, tough guy. Three swords?”Y/N saw him pointing his sword at a green-headed guy who didn’t seem to care as the spoiled blonde teased. “I only need one.”

Y/N tried to keep going but it was almost impossible when the guy with green hair deflected Helmeppo's attack and easily pushed him down, and soon after, a brawl between five or so marines and the one green-haired guy with… what looked like three swords. The guy fought them with ease, he never even drew any of his swords only using his hands as a defence.

It would have been impressive… if he hadn’t thrown one Marine towards her drummer, knocking him back onto the floor.

“Holy- Stu!!” the band gathered around the man who was under a groaning Marine officer.

When Stu is being helped by the other meme era of the band, Y/N turns to glare at the green-headed guy only to see him grab Helmeppos from the floor and pin him against the bar.

“Don’t kill me, please.” Helmeppos pleads with the guy, showing his true colours. “My father will give you anything you want.”

The green-haired guy asks “Who’s your father?”

“Captain Morgan. He’s in charge of the Marine base.” Whimpers Helmeppos.

“Then he owes me money.”

And with that, the green-haired guy dragged Helmeppos and a sack… of something out of the bar followed by a few other Marines.

“Fuck, am I bleeding?” The voice of the Marine woman. She wasn’t bleeding but there was a big red spot in her head.

Y/N helps the woman up and sits her on a near by stall. “No, you're alright.”

“Hey, Y/NN bring some ice for Stu, looks like he got a bump.” Said Duke.

“Yeah,”

As she made her way to the kitchen, she came across something more interesting… an orange-haired girl taking the uniform off a knocked-out Marine and hiding it under her clothes, nothing subtle about that.

The girl didn’t seem to have noticed Y/N, much to her surprise, until she spoke. “Y’know if you walk out of here with that uniform you’ll get arrested, right?”

The girl jumps up and turns to Y/N. “My boyfriend, he got hurt fighting off the drunk guy, I'm just taking it off to prevent it from getting dirtier.”

Y/N looked down at the middle-aged man with receding hairline and then at the orange-haired girl who was definitely too pretty to be the fallen Marine anything but… she’ll play along.

“Right, well, in that case, let me bring you a bag so you can put it there instead,” Y/N said, she turned to leave but was stopped by the girl. She grabbed her arm and turned her back around.

“I don’t need—“

“Believe me, pumpkin, you do!” Y/N motions to the bar exit which is surrounded by other Marines who seem to have already forgotten about the fight. “And unless you don’t want to get dragged to the cells I’ll recommend you wait for me here and let me bring you a bag, I promise it’s not a trap or anything.”

“That’s exactly what someone who’s planning a trap would say,” the girl with bright blue eyes said, still not letting go of her arm.

Y/N shrugs, “Maybe so, but I don’t have any reason to do that.”

“And you don’t have any reasons to help me either,” the girl replies instantly.

“Ah, but I do,” Y/N got closer to the girl and whispered without breaking eye contact, “Fuck the Marines,”

With that Y/N backs away from the girl's hold and moves to the kitchens. She swiftly takes some ice from the freezer and wraps it around a napkin and then a paper bag. She only hopes the girl actually listens to her.

Why are you helping, you might ask well, Y/N has a history with them beyond her interactions with them in the bar and knows their lack of morals. They are good for nothing and always abuse their power… so, fuck them.

Thankfully, the girl did listen to her. When Y/N went back to her she was met by the sight of a pant-less Marine. “Oh, no honey. You do not want to use his pants.”

“Can’t you just give me the bag and move on?” Said the girl, clearly annoyed.

Y/N sighs as she passes her the paper bag. “Sure but I’ll just say that if you wear his pants you’ll look like a clown.”

“Why do you care what I look?” The girl says ripping the bag out of her hand.

“I’m just helping a girl out, that’s all.” Y/N shrugs glancing at the girl's legs. “Listen, I know it’s none of my business—“

“— you’re right, it’s not.”

“— but whatever is it that you’re planning will be ruined because of a pair of pants. So, if you need some pants that go with that shirt, I might have something that could work for you.”

The girls look at Y/N suspiciously “What do you—“

“Y/N, what’s taking you so long?” Duke shouts earning the girl's attention.

“Yeah, coming,” Y/N turns to the girl with the orange hair, “I’ll be out in about an hour, if you want you can meet me in the fountain just a few houses from here,”

With that Y/N makes her way to the stage and gives the napkin to Stu. “Here! Press it firmly because it seems like you're growing a horn, dear.”

“Quit messing with me, girl!”

After a few more minutes of helping Stu out, it was more than decided he couldn’t play anymore so, they cut the show short. Unfortunately.

So, to kill time, she ordered herself water (Which she dumped a large amount of salt when no one was looking) while listening to Rika theatrically replay what happened with Helmeppos and the guy with green hair, a pirate hunter. It seems Helmeppos finally meet the ass-beating he’s been looking for…. Good.

She should give the guy in green her gratitude.

“And he also said my chocolate cover rice balls were delicious,” Rika blushes.

Y/N chuckles, placing a hand on her head, “Don’t tell me little Rikis has a crush on the pirate hunter,”

Rika blushes even further, she swaps Y/N’s hands off her head. “Stooopppp, Y/NN, it’s not funny,”

“Right, sorry.” Y/N chuckles, and she takes a sip of her salty water. “So, are you going to let me taste those delicious chocolate rice balls or those are only for the hunter?”

“Mom said I can’t do that anymore,” Rika said with a huff of dissatisfaction.

“Shame, I really wanted to try it.” Y/NN pouts.

“I can make you something—“

“You should go home and get ready for school tomorrow,” said Ayana from behind the bar.

“But mom-“

“No, go home, Rika. It’s getting late.”

“Fine,” Rika huffs as she stood up from her seat and turns to Y/N, “Night, Y/NN.”

“Nighty sweet girl,” She said back, waving as the young girl leave.

Y/N sighed taking a sip of her water and looking around the bar, it wasn't her first time working as a waitress but this one bar, she had become accustomed to. It was a nice place, she’s never really appreciated it but it was, people here were friendly, caring, kind… Y/N almost does not wish to leave but she has to, she has to keep moving otherwise the past will soon come knocking banging her door down.

“Y/NN,” calls Ayana, making the girl turn to her. The older woman places an envelope in front of her. “This month's pay plus tips for the performances.”

“Thanks,” Y/N takes the envelope and looks in it. A happy amount of berry…. This should be enough. “Hey, Ayana,”

The woman hums in response as she passes a bottle of rum at a Marine before moving to wipe something off the bar.

“I think it’s time for me to go,”

That made the woman stop and turn to her with a frown. “What? Why?”

“It seems now the time,” Y/N smiles at the woman, “I did tell you I’ll be here temporarily,”

“Yeah but… I thought you’d stay a bit longer, it’s been what two-three months?” Ayana moves to face Y/N.

“Six but y’know what they say, time flies by when you’re having fun,” Y/N grins at the woman who in return rolls her eyes. “But, I do need to leave, Ayana. I’m sorry.”

She regards Y/N for a moment she purses her lips before nodding, “If it can’t be helped, I suppose I let you go.”

“You’ve helped me immensely, I really don’t know how to thank you for all that,” Y/N tells the woman honestly.

“Don’t,” said the woman as another waitress came to give her something, “You’ve been a delight to— what do you mean they won’t pay?”

“I reckon the boy with the straw hat said he’ll come back to pay you once he’s king of the pirates.” Said the waitress.

Ayana huffs, and she shakes her head. “Bring him here because I swear to the all four blue seas today it’s not the day to fuck with me.”

The waitress leaves to bring the poor soul who’s about to get their ass handed today. Ayana scoffs crossing her arms, waiting which she hadn’t had to do for long because the waitress returned not seconds after with two familiar boys in tow. One looking oblivious and the other nervous.

“Hello!” Said the straw hat guy.

Ayana narrows her eyes, “Don’t hello me, you little punk, where’s my money?”

“You see, I don’t have it yet but I promise I’ll come back once I find the one piece to pay you. With interest.”

“The one piece?” Scoffs Ayana, “Who do you think you are, boy?”

“I’m Monkey D. Luffy and I will be king of the pirates.” The boy, Luffy, said with pride and too much conviction that if Y/N didn’t know any better she’d actually believe him.

Ayana shakes her head in disbelief, “Well, Mr future King of the Pirates, unfortunately, I can’t let you leave without paying so either give me the money you practically inhale in food or I’ll have to call the Marines to take you, your Highness.”

“I do need to get inside the base—“ Luffy was cut off by the pink-haired boy.

“No, please, listen is there something we can do to make up for it?” He asks, fidgeting where he stands, obviously nervous under the woman’s gaze.

As Y/N watched the two boys she couldn’t help but chuckle. There was something about this Monkey D. Luffy… he is so unique. So, she decided.

“No need to do anything, pretty boy,” Y/N said earning everyone's attention. She puts a few berry bills on the table. “That must cover it, right?”

“Y/N, you don’t have to pay for them,”

Y/N smiles at Ayana who was frowning back at her. “Call it my last good deed on this bar,”

Ayana huffs, she stares at the Berry before shaking her head. “Keep it, kid, for your travel.”

“No, honestly, Ayana—“

“I won’t hear anything else,” Ayana sighs, massaging he sides of her head as she walks Into the kitchen. “I need a drink,”.

After a moment of silence, as Y/N was reluctantly pulling the Berry back into the envelope Luffy speaks.

“Hey, thanks for that,” he said causing Y/N to turn her head to him.

“No problem, Monkey D. Luffy.” She grins at him.

The pink haired boy walks forward cheeks comically still red, “W-why did you offered to pay for us? It was quite a lot.”

Y/N shrugs, “I’ll scratch your back you’ll scratch mine, right?”

“You want us to scratch your back?” Luffy tilts his head making Y/N laugh.

“No, stud,” Y/N shakes her head as she moves to her feet, she smirks at Luffy placing a hand forward. “However, I do hope you remember my name when you become the King of pirates,”

Luffy takes her hand in his and shakes, “Why don’t you join my crew? We’ll need a musician on board to keep the spirits high, you’ll be perfect.”

Y/N chuckles and shakes her head, “I’ll swallow my own guitar before becoming a pirate,”

“What? Why? Being a pirate is awesome,” asks Luffy, the boy was still shaking her hand.

“Because I have had bad experiences with them, so, I’ll much rather not be part of that life,” Y/N said, looking down at the hands that still shake. “You can let go of me now, stud.”

“Oh, right!” Luffy let’s go of her, “But just because you’ve had bad experience with Pirates doesn’t mean they are all like that, we can be different.”

Y/N smiles and looks behind the boy at the clock in the wall. “Maybe but I’ll rather not find out the bad way again. I’ve to go now, Monkey D. Luffy, it was nice meeting you.”

She turns to the pink hair boy with round glasses “You too…”

“Koby,” the boy informs.

“Koby. It was nice meeting you lot,” Y/N says before moving to the exit, ignoring the cat calls from drunk Marines.

As she walks to the fountain, she can’t helped but scoffs at the thought of her being a pirate out of all things. Pirates took everything from her, in what world would she ever become in the thing that almost destroys her?

“Took you long enough,” The familiar voice makes her head snap up.

Y/N grins as she approaches the girl, “I know, sorry. Would you believe me if I told you I just met the future king of the pirates?

The orange-haired girl scoffs, "Another fool who believes they can find the one piece? Right."

"Ha!" Y/N chuckles, shaking her head. She does share the sentiment. "He seems very determined, perhaps he’ll actually do it, though I doubt it,"

"I'll belive it when I see it," The girl scoffs again, she then seems to sober up to ask Y/N, "So, the pants you mention?"

"Right, they're in my room, it's not ar from here just a few houses down," Y/N tells the girl who narrow her eyes.

"Convenient,"

"You can stay here if you want?" Y/N offers, with a tilt of her head, "I have no problem in getting them for you, pumpkin,"

The girl stares at Y/N for a moment, trying to figure out if she's lying or not. "... Fine, I'll wait."

"I won't be long," Y/N calls as she continues her walk to the space just in between a shoe shop and a gardening store.

As soon as was inside her room, Y/N lit up a few candles to light the small room. She puts her guitar down and goes to the dresser to search for a pair of pants, she did own quite a bit of clothes so it would take her a minute. Ever so often, Y/N comes across the few vials of poison she stacks in her clothed for safety and a few of her modified hand fans reminding her that she has to buy a few more vials just before leaving Shells town.

After another minute she finally found the black pants and was on her way back to the girl with orange hair.

"Here! They should fit,” Y/N said, leaning against the fountain and watching as the girl unfolded the pants and placed them over her legs.

When she was satisfied she nodded before folding it back again, narrowing her eyes at Y/N "Why are you helping me? And don't bullshit me with that fuck the Marines excuse. Even as someone who hates the Marines, you're going out of your way to help, why is that?"

"Is it too hard to belive some people just like to see them burn?" Y/N chuckles, she sighs, stiffing a little as she speaks. “The Marines fucked me over, more than once… I just want to make their life miserable even if just a little,”

“And what do you want? Nothing ever is for free in this life, so tell me. I’ve got berry-“The girl huffs crossing her arms.

“I don’t need Berry,” Y/N interrupts, she shrugged thinking for a moment, “Unless you have a boat I don’t think there’s anything you can give me,”

“Say I do, what do you need a boat for?”

Y/N gazes at her, “A ride to the next town,”

“Fine, be at the docks by 12, and not a minute late or I’ll leave you,” the Orange-haired girl said sternly.

“Deal,” Y/N holds her hand out, “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“Nami,” she shook her hand once.

Y/N nods with a wink and starts to walk away, “Right, well, good luck tomorrow, Nami. I’ll be thinking about you,”

Y/N thought she saw a smile on Nami but it was gone as soon as it came.

When morning rolled around, Y/N, with her one bag packed and guitar in hand made her last errands, which included saying her goodbyes to Riki and the employees of Food Foo, it was a teary one but it was better than leaving without saying goodbye. She then needed to get some poison…

There is where everything went to shit.

She needed poison and to get it she had to buy it from Cygnus, unfortunately. Cygnus owns a fish shop in the market street but it was a cover for other more illicit sells.

When she got there Y/N was met with her ex-fling and his new and very hostile victim. Y/N knew who she was, the girl was the daughter of an influential lieutenant of the base, and she like Helmeppos made sure to use it as a threat.

The girl was known for getting people she didn't like in jail for the stupidest things and out of fear most people rather stay out of her way or let her walk all over them.

Y/N, in all honestly, didn't care about her but it seems she should have at least been a bit careful because it wasn't even 10 minutes into the awkward and tense negotiation when she was being dragged to the marine base because the girl started screaming that Y/N was trying to rob them. And for what? Because she told the girl to mind her business after being spoken over once again.

Foolish on her part, because now, she's in Captain Morgan's/Axe hand Morgan’s office when she ought to be waiting for Nami in the docks.

"Trying to rob someone, I heard?" Said Morgan, a large man with a steel jaw. "Didn't think a pretty girl like yourself would commit that petty crime."

Y/N purses her lips, "Because I didn't. Either way, I didn't think the Captain of this entire Marine base would oversee the case of a petty crime, which once again, I didn't commit."

"Only on special circumstances. Take a seat,Y/N," Axe's hand told her, and he motioned with his head to the chair in front of his desk.

Y/N didn't move her gaze from the man with the steel jaw, "I'm okay standing,"

Morgan laughs, "How stubborn of you but I respect it."

His eyes shone with something Y/N had seen many times before and didn't like at all. Desire. Shit, she should’ve known when she was allowed to keep her belongings.

“So, care to tell me why were you attempting to rob the fish shop?” The man asks.

Y/N jaw clutch as she held back an eye roll, “I wasn’t.”

“Then why Kaori accused you of it?” Morgan inquires, his eyebrows shooting up in expectation though, to Y/N it felt as if he was mocking.

“Because she’s insane and a spoiled brat,” snaps Y/N, narrowing her eyes at the older man.

“We’ll, she does has the tendency to exaggerate,” Morgan said as he slowly got up from his seat and made his way around it, “Buy still, it’s her word against yours, a girl that’s been in Shells town for around what? Six months? You see how I can’t simply ignore the statements of my lieutenant’s daughter. However…”

Y/N’s gaze didn’t falter as the man stood in front of her or flinched when his axe hand moved a piece of hair away from her face. It was all very familiar, unfortunately.

“It would be a shame to string you up in the yard… good thing for you I’m willing to come to an agreement that can benefit us… that is if you manage to convince me, pretty girl,”

Y/N glared up at him, her eyes hardening as she prepared to send him away but thankfully for her, before she could, there was a knock on the door.

“I’m busy.” Scowls Axe hand Morgan.

The door opened and a meek Marine girl peeked through. “I-I’m sorry, Captain Morgan but this situation needs your immediate attention.”

Morgan sighs tiredly, he nods at the girl waving his normal hand dismissively. “I’ll be there,”

The Marine girl nods and closes the door, leaving Axe hand to look down at Y/N, “I’ll be back in a minute so we continue where we left off, sweetheart, don’t worry.”

Y/N didn’t respond she simply watched him leave and of course, he locked it behind him.

“Shit,”Y/N sighs, still stiff feeling her heart pound in her chest.

She takes a deep breath, not knowing how much time she has until Morgan comes back, she quickly looks around the very… ugly, self-centred office. No wonder why Helmeppos is the way he is.

Y/Ntried opening the windows with all her might but the damned thing didn’t bulge. She tried the door, despite knowing it was futile. She tried and tried but there was no way out.

When she heard the sound of the keys unlocking the door, Y/N tensed as she reached for her War fans that were hidden into her waistband and waited. It wasn’t until she saw the familiar Orange hair and straw did she let herself calm.

“Nami?”

The girl's eyes widen as she enters the office, “Y/N?”

“Y/N?” Calls Luffy a smile gracing his face as he follows Nami inside the office. “Oh, hey! What are you doing here?”

“Yeah, what are you doing here?” Nami asks, locking the door behind her. “You know him?”

Y/N looks between them, and sighs. “Long story. What are you doing here. Is it part of your plan?”

“We’re here for the map,” Luffy exclaimed excitedly as he looks around the office mumbling “woah, this guy really likes himself.”

“No, I’m going to find the map.” Nami said as she moves near Y/N, where Captain Morgan desk is. “Let’s pretend he’s not here.”

“But I am here.” Luffy says.

“Wait, what map?” Y/N asks looking at Luffy and at Nami who was scooping through Morgan’s things.

“The map to the grand line,” Luffy said, a grin on his face.

Y/N blinks, ignoring the bickering of the two as the information processing. The grand line? They’re going to steal the map to the grand line… her hearts starts to pound again but for a different reason.

"Every idiot dreams of finding the One Piece." Nami's voice snapped her out to another piece of important information.

Looking at Luffy, Y/N asks, "You're planning to travel to the Grand Line?"

"Yeah!" Exclaims Luffy with his usual grin, "To find the one piece,"

"People like you believe in something and you don’t even know what it is." Nami huffs as she continues to scoop through Morgans's belongings.

"Well, yeah. Don’t you?" Luffy fiddles with the telescope, pointing at Nami, "So why did you decide to become a thief?

Nami spares him a glance, "I didn’t decide. I needed to eat. You do what you have to, to survive."

"Ain't that the truth," Y/N mumbles as she as well gazes over Axe-hand Morgan things.

"You’re right. Nothing more important than food." Luffy moves around, touching just about everything in his way before he turns to Y/N. "And why did you decide to become a singer?"

"I've always enjoyed singing," Y/N shrugs as she decides to help Nami and opens a drawer. "There was a time when I couldn't, so, I made it my mission to sing all I wish anywhere the sea takes me,"

"Is that your dream? To sing around the world?" Asks Luffy.

Y/N shrugs, opening another drawer, "For the most part, I suppose,"

"Can you all just shut up and find the map?" Nami scowls looking through the pages of a book.

"Where you reckon he has it-"

Y/N was cut off by the desk suddenly sliding out of place, displaying a large hidden safe. They all looked at each other before Nami dropped beside it and placed her head near the lock.

Suddenly, an alarm started to blast, echoing all around the base.

"Shit," Breaths out Y/N, she moves to the window again, trying to pull it open.

"Uh… Do you think they know we’re here?" Luffy asks as he lowers himself next to Nami.

"No, I think they’re after the other thief and idiot pirate trying to steal a map." Nami scowls sarcastically.

Luffy grins, "What are the odds of that?"

Both Y/N and Nami, stop their doing to stare at the boy in a straw hat.

Luffy looks between the girls before uttering with an innocent chuckle "Kidding."

"Nami, not to stress you or anything but can you work a little faster?"

As soon as those words left her there was a banging on the door making the three of them jump.

"Open up!" Morgan's voice rang through the door along with the bangs "By the authority of the 153rd Marines!"

"You need to hurry," Luffy stresses.

Nami grunts, her ear still near the lock, "I can’t rush this!"

Morgan was now using his axe hand to get inside the office.

Y/N moved next to Nami, "There's no time for that,"

"I have an idea," Luffy tells the girl forcing Nami to move as the straw-hat boy grabs into the safe and starts to pull.

"Are- are you trying to pull the safe out?" Y/N asks in disbelief, trying her best to ignore the growing hole Axe-hand Morgan was creating on the door.

"Yeah," Luffy grunts as he continues to pull and pull and much to her surprise his arms were starting to... stretch?

Y/N tilts her head in confusion and amazement. She and Nami shared a look when the safe actually seemed to bulge.

The door bangs again and Y/N doesn't waste a second, she grabs Luffy's waist, Nami following her after her. Before Y/N is aware of what is happening, she feels her stomach rise to her throat. They were falling out the freaking window.

"Fucking..." Y/N grunted when they reached the ground, she felt her side hurting from where she had landed but there was no time for that. She quickly dropped the annoying bags off her shoulders and stood up, shaking off the pain.

"How did you do that?" Asks Nami as she rips the Marine's shirt off.

However, before Luffy could answer, they were surrounded by Marines. Y/N quickly pulled out her two war fans and took a defensive stand next to Nami who was holding onto her staff.

She used her quick reflexes and agile movements to evade their attacks while landing swift blows with her fans. With a quick flick of her wrist, she knocks one Marine to the ground and uses the momentum to twist her body, dodging another. Her movements are as graceful as they are deadly, and she slips through the chaos of battle with remarkable ease.

Meanwhile, Luffy and Nami are in their own battles, each utilizing their unique skills to take down the Marines. Luffy, with his fists and legs, dodges and attacks at will, while Nami wields her staff with expert precision, taking in multiple Marines at once.

However, more and more Marines kept coming. It was starting to get overwhelming. Y/N suddenly felt a sharp pain in her back making her stumble, she turned to fight off the Marine but to her surprise, someone else had joined the fight and sliced the Marine off of her.

With a final fierce strike of her fans, Y/N takes down the remaining Marines and is quick to meet with Nami, Luffy and-- "Hey, aren't you the guy from the bar?"

"The drunk?" Nami added to the question.

"Glad I made an impression." The guy said, sparing the girls a glance.

They turned their attention to the man who had just entered the yard. Axe-hand Morgan.

"The imposter, the pirate hunter, the thief and the prisoner." Called the Captain as he approached them, looking between each of them. "Fancy that. The four of you working together."

"Yeah. We’re a crew!" Luffy declared to which the three others were quick to deny.

"Nope, not a crew."

"Nah-uh,"

"Not together."

"No enemy has ever escaped my wrath. I alone defeated the Black Cat Pirates." As he brags, Morgan begins to take off his Marine vest, displaying his scars from past battles, "I alone captured Kuro of the Thousand Plans. And I alone keep Shells Town safe from the scum of the East Blue."

He takes a fighting stan and so do the four others.

Y/N held into her sharp war fans, hoping some of the paralyzing poison she had covered the blades with hadn't all worn off.

Morgan's first strick was met with the guy with green hair swords but was thrown off, then Luffy tried to strike him but was unsuccessful. Y/N was going to slice his face off but a grunt from Nami stopped her, noting she was fighting the upcoming Marines off herself Y/N decided to help because even if all her impulses were yelling at her to cut Morgan's dick off she wasn't about to leave Nami to fend for herself.

Nami uses her staff to block the Marines' attacks, while Y/N uses her fans to deflect and dodge their strikes. The two work in unison, their teamwork making them a formidable force to be reckoned with.

Nami strikes out with her staff, taking down one Marine after another. Her strikes are powerful and precise. Y/N uses her fans to take down the others, she strikes with precision, her movements fluid and graceful and when all of the Marines are down, Y/N turns to Nami, both girls sharing a look of respect for one another.

"Gum Gum Whip!" Luffy's voice rang through the yards forcing them all to turn to watch as his leg stretched inhumanly before kicking Axe-hand Morgan, knocking him off.

"Whoo!" Luffy celebrates his victory.

Y/N shares yet another look with Nami as both girls put their weapons away.

"Gum Gum Whip?" Asks the green-haired boy.

Luffy nods excitedly as he approaches the other guy, "Yeah! All the great fighters call out their finishing moves."

"No, they don’t."

"Some do," Y/N breathes out, turning to him, "What's your name, Hot Shot?"

"I'm Roronoa Zoro, pirate hunter," The guy, Zoro, said as he put his three swords away.

"And the future greatest swordsman in the world," Luffy added with conviction.

"Well, I'm Y/N. Nice to meet ya,"

Nami interrupted, looking over at the safe, "Hate to break up this beautiful moment, but we need to get this safe out of here."

"Some rope might be useful." Y/N hums, looking about while taking back her disregarded things.

But then, as if it were nothing, Zoro grabbed the safe and hauled it up into his shoulders.

"Or we can do that." Y/N mumbles, gazing at Zoro, impressed. It was kind of hot.

Soon, the four of them were jumping into Nami's small boat. She gave Y/N instructions to pull up the anchor as she unfolded the sails

"Careful with that!" Nami scowls Zoro when the guy all but throws the safe down.

"Whatever you say." Zoro tells her as he continues to roughly move the safe into the small boat, "Oh, wait. I don’t work for you."

Nami glares at Zoro prompting Luffy to speak. "I’m sensing a little bit of tension amongst the crew."

"Not a crew!" They all rebottle.

Ignoring them, Luffy stands on the dock looking around, "I can’t leave without my friend."

"Koby?" Y/N asks as she finishes pulling the anchor up.

Luffy nods, "He should be around somewhere,"

"Can’t wait,” Zoro tells him, "The Marines will be here."

"The Marines are here already." The annoyingly familiar voice of Helmeppos made the four of them turn to him, he was holding two guns up, "You’re under arrest."

"What happened to you?" Y/N, unfazed by the guns, laughs.

Luffy nods, laughing with her. "Yeah, what’s wrong with his hair?"

"Yeah, I might’ve done that," Zoro informs them, proudly.

"Nice work, Hot Shot" Y/N chuckles approvingly.

Helmeppos fires a shot near Zoro forcing a shriek out of Y/N, however it seems that she was the only one to have a reaction to a gun being fired because not even that fazed the pirate hunter, Nami or Luffy.

"I won’t let you make a joke of me. I’m taking you in and handing you over to my father." Helmeppos said, an air of superiority oozing out of him. "I’ll be the hero. I might even get a medal or something--"

Helmeppo's rant was cut short by Koby, who had satisfyingly punched the blonde down.

"Koby?" Luffy exclaims, impressed by his friend's actions.

"God, that hurt!" Koby looks down at his fist but then he smiles, "It also felt really good too."

Luffy swiftly urges Koby near the boat, "No time to explain, but we gotta go. This whole island is trying to kill us."

"I’m not coming with you," Koby said causing Luffy to halt his steps.

"You sure?" Luffy asks.

"Before we met, every choice was made for me. But now I’m gonna do what I want to do." Koby said with determination making all the others stare at him, "I’m gonna be a Marine. I want to help people that can’t help themselves."

Y/N smiles at him. She can tell he has a kind heart which is more than what half the Marines will ever have. She can only hope that he protects it.

"Next time we meet, we might be enemies," Koby tells Luffy but the straw hat boy didn't seem bothered by that.

"But for now… we’re friends."

Luffy nudges Koby in a friendly manner before getting into the boat where Y/N, Nami and Zoro are working to unravel the remaining sail to begin their travel.

And the boat finally starts to sail, leaving the decks and island behind. Y/N looks back at Shells Town, what was her home for six months, half a year, is now a memory. Usually, leaving a town leaves her with a bittersweet feeling until she gets to the next one to do it all over again but now, knowing that the Map of the Grand Line is within reach, she has a new plan in mind.

Find her sister.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Lots of love, be safe.

Divider by @cafekitsune 3

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