i love crime shows & just started writing fics

who i write for:

OA Zidan

Jubal Valentine

Dominick Sonny Carisi

Aaron Hotchner

Frank Langdon

Jack Abbott

for now, no smut :( but maybe eventually

OA Zidan x Reader

Summary: Meet cute, fluff, there are no gendered description of reader in this

Word Count: 1,768

this is one of my first fics. much love <3

The first time you saw him was during your daily bakery stop, you quite literally ran into him.

You were grabbing a drink from the shop's cooler, and as you whipped around to head to the register, you landed face-first into this man’s (incredibly firm) chest. With such velocity, you started to lose your balance, but his hand reached out to steady you. Registering what just happened, you took several steps back to put a face to the figure you’d just body-slammed.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry.” His chocolate-colored eyes were intense, and his face was just as serious. Oh gosh.

“That’s alright, no problem,” he said, still with a serious stare, but you definitely imagined the corner of his mouth lifting a hair.

Why does his voice remind you of caramel? No, okay, let’s focus up. Move! Do something!

“Right, uh, sorry again.” You stepped to go around him. “Have a nice day.”

He moved too, but quickly added, “You too,” with a centimeter’s worth of a nod and a couple more hairs of a smirk.

Wow, he was gorgeous. You couldn’t help one more glance his way as you left the store.

________

The second time you saw him, in your routine bakery spot, was just a couple days later. You spotted him almost immediately.

How would one miss a suit like that?

At the chime of the shop door, his attention turned right towards you. His eyes met yours, and you immediately focused on ordering. As you did so, you swore you felt his gaze on you. You studied his features out of your peripheral: close-clipped hair, full, beautiful beard. A deep navy suit that hugged him deliciously, complete with a matching blue tie.

"Iced mocha latte for Y/N." Snapping back to reality, you grabbed the coffee and made your way out the door. Obviously with a quick glance in the man’s direction. Your eyes met again, only this time he smiled ever so softly, almost too quickly hidden by the sip of his mug. But you'd caught it and struggled the rest of the day to think of anything else.

________

The third time you see him, in your pre-work bakery shop, he is already in line. You think you’d recognize that tightly suited stature anywhere. You get in line behind him. He turns in your direction and does that barely-there smirk, followed by a dip of his head and a faint chuckle. At the sound, your face flushes.

You bring your attention back to deciding what to order. He orders and steps away. You place your order and start to pull out your card when the cashier informs you it’s already paid for. Visibly puzzled, she glances at the seating to your left. When you turn, you’re facing the back of that suit.

Your feet are moving his direction before your brain even knows what’s happening.

“Thanks for paying for my order,” you say as you come to face him. “It’s the only thing that’s going to get me through work.”

“Of course. I know the feeling,” he says with a chuckle and an actual smile, which —holy fuck— this is the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. You can’t help smiling back as you make your way to a table.

“Would you maybe want to, uh—” Your steps halt. “Have a seat?” Your stomach does a somersault as you face him again.

He drops his head with a small chuckle. “Here? With me?” he finishes, finding your eyes with his that have a slight sparkle today.

“Sure, I’d love to,” you say, taking a seat. He’s about to speak when, “Hazelnut cold brew with foam for Omar,” is called.

“That’s me, one second,” he says with a pat to the table.

You fidget with your rings as he comes back to the table. “Your name is Omar?”

He chuckles through a sip of his drink and sits back down. “Yeah, I normally go by OA.”

“OA,” you repeat. “I like it, it suits you.”

“Thank you,” he chuckles. Those cheekbones with that beard when he smiles is just—mwah, chef’s kiss.

“It’s lovely to meet you, OA. My name is—” you’re cut off by your order being called.

“Your name is Y/N?” he asks.

“Yeah, it is,” you say with a laugh.

You start out of your seat when he says, “I’ll get that for you.”

When he returns, you thank him, and as he sits, you inquire, “Do you work around here?”

“No, I live in the area. I discovered this shop on my way to work one day.”

“Oh, cool! Same here, actually.”

“Really?” he says. “What do you do for work?”

“I’m on an HR team for a publication agency.” He smiles.

“And what do you do for work?”

“I actually work for the FBI,” he says with a completely serious face.

You chuckle, but his face remains the same. “Wait, really?” you grin.

“Can I see your badge?” You’re immediately blushing because why did that sound like an innuendo?!

He chuckles as he digs into his pocket. He displays the badge, and your mouth drops open.

“No way! That’s cool as fuck.” You both chuckle. It’s also hot as fuck, but you don’t say that part out loud.

“If you say so,” he says with a laugh. He glances at his phone, then his watch. His face changes.

“I actually have to go.” He pockets his phone and looks apologetic.

“Of course. It was nice to meet you, OA. Thank you for the coffee.”

“My pleasure, Y/N,” he says as he stands to put on his coat and lays down a card next to your hand. “My number is on there. I’d love to buy you a coffee again.” You both smile before he takes off.

You fiddle with the card all day long.

OA’s POV

As the day drug on and on, he focuses as much as the tasks require, but he can’t help thinking about your hair, your eyes, your smile. Even after an awful day like today. Finding no new messages when he checks his phone, he pushes down the regret of not just getting your number.

“Night, OA,” says Maggie, as she and Scola are heading out.

“Yeah, night, guys,” he says, distracted, as he checks his phone again. This time there is a message.

Hey, OA. It’s Y/N. The coffee really helped me get through my workday. I hope your day was good.

He grabs his stuff and starts toward the elevators. Suddenly, he cannot wait for another bakery run-in. He calls your number.

Y/N POV You’re only mildly hyperventilating after sending that text to OA. You’d finally managed to send something, mostly thanks to the now-lengthy call with your best friend.

Your phone starts buzzing in your hand. “Oh my god, Sky! He’s calling.”

“Well, answer it, you dumbass,” they say, and immediately hang up.

“Hello,” you say as you pick up the call.

“Hey, Y/N. It's OA.”

“Yes, I know that,” you say. OA chuckles, a deep, hearty laugh, and it sounds like music to your ears. “Are you okay?” you question.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m all good. Just a rough day today. I sort of just wanted to hear your voice again.”

You had just met, and he called you after a bad day at work? Your stomach does even more gymnastics at this thought.

“Oh, I’m sorry today was tough. Can I do anything to help?”

“No, I’ll be alright. I gotta get some food, and then I’ll call it a night.” He pauses. “Would you, uh, happen to be hungry?” Shocked by this, you’re immediately warm in the cheeks.

“Why, I am. How did you know?” you tease. The mood is already lighter.

“If you wanted, I could pick you up in about 30 minutes?”

“Sure, I’ll text you my address.” You hear the breath that escapes him right in your ear.

“Okay, I’ll be there in a bit,” he says, his voice stronger now. There is less weight to his words.

Now, time to not overthink what to wear… You can do that, totally...

You’re at minute 22 of 30 before OA picks you up, and only a third of your closet is thrown all over your room.

At minute 29, you’re triple-adjusting your hair when your phone rings.

“Hi, OA,” there is palpable excitement in your voice.

“Hey, I’m pulling up to your street. Take your time, I’ll be parked outside.”

“Okay, I’m heading down now.” The excitement turns to nerves as you grab your stuff and head out the door.

“I’m right out front in the silver sedan.”

“Kk, see you in a second,” you giggle, not knowing what else to say. “Bye,” you say as quickly as you hang up.

When you step outside, he comes around the car and opens the door for you. He’s in a similar suit to the other day, though this time his tie is loose and his collar is unbuttoned a tad.

“Thank you,” you say as you get in. His smile is bright even in the dark of the evening.

He finds your eyes as he climbs in and turns the ignition.

“Hey,” he says with such a searching stare.

You giggle and reply with, “Hi.” He is so close. The closest you two have been. Is this a dream?!

“There’s a place around the corner that's open this late.”

“Awesome, I’m cool with whatever is open.” He chuckles with that familiar tilt of the head, and he starts onto the road.

There is about two minutes of silence, and you feel bad for not knowing what to say. He had a rough day being a literally FBI agent and you can't make some small talk.

“I’m sorry for being a bit quiet tonight. Work felt very long today.” His grip on the steering wheel tenses a bit. That grip tells more than just 'very long,' but that is not a topic for tonight.

“OA,” you turn to him in your seat, “I am perfectly happy just keeping you company.”

“Really?” He lets out a breath as he looks back at you.

“Absolutely.” You give him a soft smile.

His grip on the wheel eases and lands in his lap. He adjusts again to the wheel, then to resting on the center console.

There’s an obvious pull in the air that has you reaching for his hand and pulling it to your own lap. He gives your hand a squeeze in return.