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leclerced · 4 months

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Heyyy hope you have a good day, i come bearing new thots

Credit where credit’s due, the idea is an old and deleted roger Taylor fic and not from me.

HOWEVER. Im now obsessed with this scenario with either lando or oscar (ill let you choose <3)

Roommate!AU !!!

Imagine you’re friends and roommates with lando or oscar and he has to study for his upcoming biology exam at uni. The topic? Female reproductive organs🤭

He just genuinely struggles with understanding the anatomy of a vagina and that picture in his damn book is absolutely not recognisable.

And since him and reader are friends and she doesn’t think thoughts all the way through she offers him to look at hers. I mean hes seen her shirtless a million times its nbd.

And staring at her beautiful pussy really does help him - to an extend. Hes so into his studies he doesn’t really process that he asked her „can i touch it??“ and she just goes along with it bc it’s already lowkey awkward and theres no turning back now.

She tries to not make it more awkward by suppressing her moans when his finger brush over her clit all while hes just identifying parts with his thoughts oblivious to what he does to her.

And she cant keep in the moan when he pushes his fingern in and suddenly he realises what hes doing. But he sneakily keeps going until she cums and hes trying his best to keep up the ignorant act bc shes js too hot like that😩

Got damn it i need a full length version of this fic again 😭

-🫀

i want to write a full length version omfg this is incredible!!! pictured oscar immediately. kinda set in like the early 2000s in my head bc i wanted to mention dvd rentals One Time and that's not a thing anymore but that's the world i grew up in LMAO

sorry i like got too into this at first and forgot i made plans to game with my friend and rushed the ending im sorry. added read more bc it's just over 1k <3 i think i like this a lot other than the ending idk . lmk what u think i hope it meets the expectations set by the original

reader thinks oscar's an innocent idiot but he just probably shouldn't be in medical school because while he can find the clit, he certainly doesn't know the name of it.

Her roommate has been staring at the same page for half an hour, they're seated on opposite ends of the couch, leaning against the arms and facing each other. She has a Stephen King novel leaned on her propped up knees and Oscar has an open textbook balanced on one thigh and a notebook open to a blank page on the other. After another frustrated sigh leaves him, she drops her book on the coffee table and leans over to see what he's looking at. She almost laughs when she sees the miniature sketch of a vagina, "You know, the DVD rental place down the street has rated X movies."

Oscar snorts, "I'm trying to work, leave me alone. I'm supposed to learn all the anatomical names of a vagina, but the only drawing I have is in this stupid book."

She leans in further to the diagram and hums, "That's a horrible diagram, no wonder you're getting nothing done. How old is that that textbook?" He shrugs and stretches back over the arm of the couch, "Probably like thirty, the professor wrote it himself and he's ancient."

Her eyes get pulled to his hips as he reaches behind his head and groans, his shirt lifting the slightest to reveal soft skin before he drops his arms back down. She licks her lips as she directs her gaze up to his face, "I could show you mine, if you want." The swift inhale Oscar makes is audible, he keeps his gaze locked on the books in his lap as he says, "Really?" Instead of verbally agreeing, she just scoots back to where she was leaning moments before on the arm of the couch and shimmies her shorts down before she can think twice. She giggles at the look on Oscar's face as she kicks the shorts off her ankles and he takes in the sight of her panties, lacy and red. "Are you sure?"

She shrugs and teases, "Well it's not like they have 3D models. I'm sure, I wouldn't have offered otherwise. Are you sure?" He nods slowly and she tugs her panties down her thighs and smirks at the blush that creeps up his cheeks as she drops them on his lap. She doesn't know where the sudden confidence has come from, but she feels no shame as she opens her legs to him. She drops one foot to the floor and the other lifts to rest on the back of the couch. Oscar holds her eye for a moment before she watches his gaze drift down her body and he starts to lean in before pausing, "Can I get closer?" She nods at his question and answers, "As close as you want." Oscar lurches forwards, knocking the forgotten textbook to the floor as he fumbles to grab his pen and notebook to take notes.

She can't read his chicken scratch handwriting, so whatever he's scrawling about her pussy is undecipherable to her as she watches him analyze her. She's trying not to think about how this could be weird, how it is weird to offer to let your roommate use you as an anatomy dummy. It's not really the first time. He's done other things, like when he needed to practice IVs so she let him give her a banana bag the next time she was hungover. She liked teasing him about it, calling him Doctor Piastri when she let him listen to her heart with his stethoscope. Or when she comes down with a cold and she calls him into her room to diagnose and treat her, and he brings her cold medicine and soup from the deli down the street.

She's pulled out of her thoughts when he clears his throat and she meets his eyes before she hums quizzically. The pink tint that had spattered his cheeks turns into a bright red as he asks, "Can I touch you?"

She almost thinks she didn't hear him correctly, but there's no way he could have said anything else, so she tries to joke, "So you're a hands on learner, then?"

Oscar quickly counters, "Yeah, do you mind?"

It's her turn to lose her breath as she stupidly nods and blushes as she takes in the realization that he's about to touch her pussy. In the name of science, she agrees, "No, go ahead." Then, his hand is on her pussy and his focus is entirely on the space between her legs as he spreads her lips apart and she has to close her eyes and force her mind to other places as he tilts his had interestedly. She wishes she could stop her body from reacting to his touch, but she can't. Not when he pulls back the hood of her clit, she hears him writing something, then there's a soft pressure on her clit and she has to bite the inside of her cheek to not react. She tells herself not to make any sounds so it won't be weird, he's just trying to study, he's not doing anything to her really.

She can feel the wetness build under his fingers as he slips them down to her entrance and back up. She hears Oscar mutter something but she can't make it out over the blood rushing through her head as he presses his fingers back against her clit. "Is this... The labia?" The laugh she lets out is half a moan, "That's the- clit. Labia are the lips." He dips his fingers down and pinches one lightly, "This?"

She's somehow endeared by the curiosity, and sighs, "Yeah. That. Minora. The outer one is majora."

Oscar lets out a little huff, "How do you know the names? You're not even taking anatomy." His fingers find her clit again, this time lightly pinching it, and her thighs tense as he mumbles, "Clit." She hears his pen scratching across his paper and then dips his finger down to her entrance and presses inside. She wonders what he's thinking as he slowly thrusts his finger in and out of her, his other hand still writing on the paper. It's not until he slips a second finger inside of her and curls them as he suddenly presses his thumb to her clit that she breaks her silence, a whimper falling from her lips as the unexpected pleasure hits her. She somehow doesn't realize then that this isn't his first time like she thought when she saw the surprised look on her face. Then she flutters her eyes open and immediately realizes it because he's already looking up at her, a cocky smirk playing on his lips. She gasps, "You- you didn't really need help, did you?"

He shrugs innocently, "I still don't know the names, could you remind me?" She can't tell if he's being serious or not as he quickens his thumb on her clit and she's saved from responding as he pushes up her body and presses his lips to hers hungrily.

#ask #oscar piastri smut #oscar piastri #op81 #op81 smut #🫀anon

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espinosaurusrexex · 7 months

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Happy Little Accidents

Veteran!BuckyBarnes x Female!ArtTeacher!Reader

summary: In a world after the war, Bucky tries to get pieces of his old self back by joining an art class. He meets you and instantly falls head over heels. Now he just has to work up the courage to ask you out.

a/n: wrote most of this on my lunch break after finally feeling the creativity spark again. I hope you all get a cozy fall feeling.

word count: 3.3k

warnings: adapting to life after war, frustration, a little angst, love-dazed Bucky, just so much fluff and wholesomeness 💕

･ﾟ✫* 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ｡✭･ﾟ

↑ the face of a man too whipped to listen - this is the Bucky vibe today

Steve Rogers was an artist. A lot of people knew about it. Hell, the Smithsonian even had a gallery full of sketches from a notebook of Steve’s he had lost back in ‘45. But Steve never needed people to recognize his work. Just like he never needed all the fame that came with his shield or all the honors he got for doing what he thought normal human decency implied - stopping bullies.

But what not many people knew was that Steve loved his art so much, he even held little sketch workshops in the camps on the western front. He drew each member of the howling commandos with impeccable accuracy. He loved drawing portraits and he loved to help.

Which was why, sooner or later, Bucky had been talked into trying his first sketches back in the day as well. Back when he was still left-handed, back when he found joy in little things such as drawing with his best friend. Back when he was not who he was now.

Yeah, he was bitter about it...

Bucky wasn’t too shabby of an artist per se. He was rather quick with his sketches always able to find the right spot for his next line and even though they weren’t perfect, one could always see what his pictures were meant to present.

Yes, they were crooked and not nearly as good as Steve’s but he had fun with it. Sketching had been an escape for his soul while bombs were exploding only miles away from his camp. It had reminded him of his best friend when they were apart, and most importantly, it taught him patience.

God, so much patience.

Bucky had never been good with it. Always fast, always right away. But the amount of times Steve made him erase carefully constructed lines and shapes had him feel scolded like a kid.

Later, he was grateful for it.

Now? He hated just touching a pencil. Every time he was reminded of his recovery, of months of frustration and anger, of grief and sadness. All because he’d lost his arm, and with it, all that had brought him joy in life.

When he had to learn to write with his right hand, he screamed at the papers before him, the crooked and shaky lines mocking him with vigor.

You’ll never be the same, they said, You’ll never have true joy back.

He felt like a child. Unable to do the most mundane of tasks, whilst fully aware of what had to be done to get it right.

But he missed it. The way drawing would clear his mind and the ease he felt when thinking of nothing but the next step in the process.

So after a particularly frustrating session with his therapist, Bucky had walked through a gallery on his way home. Beautiful pieces, each more impressive than the next hung on bright white walls until he reached a small corner with sketches and photographs. They weren’t less good than the rest, but other than the huge paintings, they seemed approachable - and they reminded him of times far gone.

“Hello, would you be interested in signing up for a sketching class?” An angelic voice had asked after holding a leaflet into his line of sight. And when he followed the hand up to your face, his breath hitched in his throat.

“I- I don’t think I’d be any good…” he had said with a pitiful smile as his left arm raised next to his head, the sleek silver of his hand shining in the showroom light.

“Oh don’t be silly. Everyone can be an artist.”

And that was all it took.

Now he was here. Sitting in a room with about eight other people, listening to you talk. Though Bucky didn’t pay much attention to your words. He was distracted by the way your lips curved when you spoke, and how your hands looked in the light when you flailed them in the air. He wanted to draw you, only you. But he knew he could never do you justice. And that frustrated him a little.

His first task was easy. A series of connected squiggles and shapes. The second was harder - finding and highlighting familiar motives in his work. But when he tried to connect his shapes, his hand began to tremble and the line on his paper got dented, he huffed in surrender.

A look to the front to you talking with another woman and he was getting off his chair.

This was useless. He should have never come here.

But when he moved to gather his things, your voice stopped him once again.

“Oh that’s interesting,” you said with a tilted head, your eyes following the little dent in his drawing.

“Yeah, I messed it up.” He shook his head and added a careful, much more quiet ‘I always do”.

“You see, it’s only a mistake if you make it one.” You turned to him and smiled and his heart began racing now that all your attention was on him. Bucky looked around to see if anyone noticed, but the other participants were all focused on their work. “I’m not going to tell you that this line isn’t supposed to be the way it is. You alone can decide that.”

You stepped closer as he eyed his paper again. “So, Bucky,” holy crap you remembered his name. And it sounded so good coming from your lips. “Are you gonna make it a mistake or not?”

❁ ❁ ❁

That was a month ago. And Bucky had come to your class every Sunday night since then. But now his crush had only intensified.

Every time you stepped behind him to watch him work, his hand began to sweat. Every time you gave him a suggestion, his eyes were so drawn to your lips, he barely heard what you were saying. Just yesterday this had caused him to get into a particularly awkward situation. He hadn’t listened, of course - those stupid mesmerizing lips of yours were at fault for it. And when Bucky finally came back from his daydream of imagining what they would feel like on his lips, he knocked over a jar of water as he noticed you had moved next to him. And to make matters even worse, you had caught him talking to himself as he cleaned up the mess.

Bucky was beyond embarrassed. He wasn’t normally that clumsy, all his moves were calculated. No limb out of control, but when you were around, he seemed to have lost that trait of his - which was actually kind of nice...

He was in deep. And he didn’t know how to handle it.

He was contemplating never going back to your class. He would probably end up ruining somebody’s work and - besides - it wasn’t like he could ever work up the courage to ask you out. It was just all too scary.

“Bucky, is that you?” Bucky froze as he studied the coffee menu above the barista. He was going to order black anyway. But the voice that called out his name almost made him want to pretend he was still studying the sign.

“Bucky.” Your voice came closer and when you were standing next to him, he finally looked at you. And there you were, with a bright smile and a scarf shielding you from the cool fall breeze outside.

“Oh, hey.” He paused, treading, not knowing what to do with his hands or pretty much any part of his body. At least, in your workshop, he had something to do. “...hey.”

“It’s nice to see you, how’s your homework going?” You rubbed your hands together to warm them and at the sight of your delicate fingers, he felt his cheeks heating up when he imagined holding them.

“It’s... well, it’s going...” He sighed and watched his feet as they shuffled on the tiled floor. “It’s not going well if I’m being honest.” And with a shy smile, he rubbed the back of his neck, watching as you nodded in understanding.

“I know it sounds stupid, but sometimes it really helps to just get started without thinking about it too much.”

He chuckled. That was exactly his problem. Because every time he wanted to start, he wondered what you would think about it. And then his thoughts drifted to you entirely and how your neck would bend when you watched him draw over his shoulder, or how your fingers swayed over his artwork to point out the parts you were talking about. God, he loved when you did that.

“-only if you want, of course.” Your nose crinkled when Bucky’s mind brought him back to the coffee shop again. You were staring at him expectantly, your smile growing nervous with every second he took to register that you had just asked him a question.

Bucky had no idea what you had just said. He had been too lost in his daydream yet again and now he made you look stupid in the middle of this coffee shop. There wasn’t much time to decide what his response would be, but under no circumstance did he want to admit just how scattered he was around you. So without thinking, he just nodded with a tight-lipped smile and willed his knees to stay strong when your eyes brightened.

“Awesome! When are you free?” Free? Did you just ask him out and he hadn’t even paid attention?

“Uh, Sunday?” Bucky stammered as his heart began to pound in his chest. This has got to be a prank.

You laughed, and Bucky got weak in the knees. “Sunday is workshop, silly.”

Stupid, stupid, Bucky. “Right, uh... Friday then.” The rapid beat in his chest took his breath away.

“Okay, great. Here give me your phone so I can give you my number.”

“You’re–“ Bucky choked as his hands scrambled to fish his phone out of his pocket. “Yes, yeah sure, cool.” Cool? Oh god.

You took it from him, entered your contact with a little paintbrush emoji, called yourself, and handed it back to his sweaty hand.

“I’ll text you my address.” You stepped forward to pay and retrieve your coffee, gifting the barista a smile that made him blush - apparently, you were a regular because Bucky did not remember you ordering - but then again - he didn’t really pay attention apparently. “Oh, and bring your art supplies!”

And then you were out the door, letting crisp air into the cozy coffee shop, and Bucky standing dazed and confused as to what had just happened.

❁ ❁ ❁

Bucky stared at his phone for the fifth time now, making sure he was in front of the right door before ringing the bell. He was nervous, to say the least. He couldn’t even remember the last time he was on a date, not to mention the last time he felt this nervous about being on one. He was a strong believer in facts but you asking him out had to be a sign from the universe. One he would only get once and he could not screw it up.

His hands smoothed over his black button-up one last time before adjusting his leather jacket again. Then he rang the bell and not even a minute later, you greeted him with a warm smile and urged him to give you his jacket to hang up.

“I just made tea, do you want some?” Bucky followed you to the kitchen where the faint but homey scent of pumpkin spice filled the air. He watches as you scrambled to find your oven its and then retrieve something delicious smelling from the oven. “Cookies?”

“I’m good with tea for now.” He chuckled in awe at how nice your home felt. Once he could tear his eyes away from you, he peered over the kitchen island into your living room, where many different artworks and photographs were displayed on the walls. Every pillow on your sofa had a different color and the blankets sprawled on it and the chair were too inviting for him not to picture the both of you cuddled up beneath them.

“Alright then, suit yourself. But just know these are my specialty.” You snatched one from the tray before almost dropping it again. “Ouch, hot.”

Bucky felt drawn to the room. With all its warm light and fall-scented candles, hints of read books and discarded crocheting, with a crackling fireplace and soft carpeting. He also felt awfully intimate at the glimpse he got into your life by being here, but he had already declared this place his favorite in his mind.

“Are you ready?” Bucky turned to you and watched as you padded your hands on your jeans, leaving faint flour prints on the dark denim.

“Ready for what?” He smiled again, he seemed to be unable to stop around you. But he was just so happy to be here, to be close to you, and to finally spend more time with you.

You chuckled and set two cups of tea on the table. “For your sketches. That’s the whole reason you came here for, remember?”

You settled on the ground and padded the sofa for Bucky. But he could just stand there and stare at you while trying to ignore the lump that began to build in his throat. He clenched the bag with his art supplies in his hand and watched as the soft material wrinkled in his grasp.

Of, course. He took a breath. How could he have been so naive? Then stepped towards the sofa. The whole thing had been a mistake. And finally sat down with a heavy smile.

The sadness was filling him so fast, it threatened to spill right out of him, but Bucky wouldn’t let this little big dent in the road be shown in front of you. Instead, he focused on your hands when they pulled his sketch pad from his bag. And your eager smile when you flipped through his failed attempts on the paper.

The whole atmosphere was wearing a thin layer of sorrow all of a sudden, and Bucky felt his heartache when you leaned over to him to point out the parts you liked the most. Your perfume seemed just that much sweeter as if it were mocking him all of a sudden.

He didn’t listen. He just watched you with the same longing he’s had ever since he met you. Back to square one. Back to the distance he had with you before he foolishly thought you had asked him out. Except now he’d lost all the confidence left in him to take the next step.

Bucky let the evening wash over him. Trying to concentrate on your tips and examples, tasting the tea you had offered to him with the sweetest smile. And before he knew it, he was standing in front of your apartment building again - with a box of those pumpkin cookies in hand and a heart that felt heavier than the bricks he was staring at.

He sighed and began his walk back home.

❁ ❁ ❁

On Sunday he decided that he wouldn’t give up. Bucky didn't know what changed his mind. He just knew that he couldn’t stop thinking about you and him on that incredibly comfortable sofa of yours and the scent of your cedar and cinnamon candle which seemed to linger on his skin for days after his visit. He wanted to play the sketching games he had half-heartedly endured last time and he wanted to become a better artist.

Bucky had left your cookie box at home as an excuse to meet up with you again. And even though he was sweating ferociously when he approached you after class, you had agreed to meet with him again.

He’d left the gallery with a bright smile that evening. Excited for the next time he’d see you again and eager with daydreams on the subway home.

You and Bucky met up every week. Every time, spending a little longer not just drawing and it filled his heart with warmth and happiness. You shared laughter, and, in Bucky’s eyes, a growing connection with every passing meeting.

He learned about your dreams and aspirations and told you about his past, his interests, and his most treasured fantasies.

As weeks turned into months, Bucky found himself drawn to you in more ways than the warmth radiating from your smile he’d noticed the first day he met you, or your talent of calmly helping him in every way possible. He admired your passion for art, your kindness, and your enchanting presence. The fear and the shyness that had gripped him at first, slowly faded away - replaced by a sense of comfort when he was with you.

And soon he realized that there was nothing he didn’t love about you. This was how he got the courage to, on one calm evening spent on your sofa, between the colorful pillows he had been thinking about falling asleep on for weeks, place his hand in yours and intertwine your fingers with his.

“I got something for you,” he whispered between dialogues of the Halloween movie playing on TV, watching as your eyes aimed up at him with curiosity.

With reluctance, he peeled himself out of the warm blanket you shared and trudged to the sketchbook hidden in his bag. The initial idea had been dipped in silly confidence. But it was too late to back out now. He’d already told you about it.

So despite his nervous heartbeat, Bucky came back to the sofa and handed you the book.

“Open it,” he nudged when you carefully inspected the black leather binding, unaware of the confession hidden beneath.

And when you did, he felt he could read every expression on your face like a poem.

The book was filled with sketches of you. The first pages were scattered in hasty pencil drawings, misplaced lines, and unintentional dents. Then followed the section in which he had tried to pay attention to detail. The curve of your nose or the arch of your fingers when they pointed at his artwork. He could see them now, hovering over the sketches himself, and when you turned to the last page of the section, he could see the striking resemblance between them. And so did you. On the next turn, you revealed the latest portraits he’d added to the book - finally confident enough to attempt doing what he saw you as justice, to finally look past his mistakes - or happy little accidents as you called them - and just try it.

Bucky had discovered that your weekly sketch sessions had done him good. And that you had secretly given him back what he had mourned after for so long.

“I couldn’t keep my eyes off you from the moment we met.” He whispered still, too afraid to break the moment you’d just created. “Thought it was time for me to tell you.”

Your eyes were glassy when you tore them from the pages in your hand, a shaky laugh escaping your lips when Bucky beamed down at you. “You did all of this for me-”

“Because of you,” he corrected and wiped a lonely tear from your cheek. “I never thought I could get the joy of drawing back until you showed me how.”

Bucky leaned in closer until your noses touched. “How to be less critical of myself.” He closed his eyes and let his hand linger on your skin. “And how to welcome a mistake by making it an accident-”

And before he could finish that sentence, he felt your lips press to his and your warm hands wrap around his neck to pull him into your body. Bucky shivered in excitement, letting his hands trail down your back and falling into the soft cushions of your sofa while he pressed you to his chest protectively.

He sighed into the kiss, feeling his heart burn with excitement.

Fascinating, how fast a mistake can turn into a happy little accident.

I love you Bob Ross <3

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the-s1lly-corner · 6 months

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hello I hope ur request are open! If not be free to ignore this!! Okay so TADC x y/n? (The amazing digital circus also it can be muti characters or one!! The choice is yours!! ^ ^)

OKAY OKAY SO WHAT IF..🥁🥁🥁 y/n was like Jessica rabbit from "who framed roger rabbit" 👀 and was very like motherly to everyone but when she was called doll,/toots,/ect, by jax or anyone SHE WOULD PUNCH THEM HARDDDD (kinda like the lola bunny fanfic??) Also she is like one inch taller then jax (she a tall women👀❤️)

(HAVE FUN WITH THIS IDEA!! DONT RUSH YOURSELF TO DO IT TAKE UR TIME ON IT!! AND DRINKS LOTS OF WATER AND EAT FOOD!! HAVE A WONDERFUL DAY/NIGHT!!🫶🫶)

Digital Circus x a jessica rabbit-type reader!

since im a little melty brain from blasting through a bunch of requests today im going to do part of the cast! mostly characters i think would be interesting with this kind of reader as well as some characters i just wanna write more of (cough cough kinger cough cough)(i was originally going to do gangle as well but uhuh!!) ...this reminds me ive never watched who framed roger rabbit... or rather i have, but its been so long that ive truly forgotten nearly every aspect of the movie relying on the character wiki talking about her personality to guide me through this

CAINE:

caines and jax's parts are both likely going to be on the shorter side thanks to both of their cores holding similar themes in regards to half of the idea

anyways he's going to call you pet names, especially if he's interested in you.. good luck trying to land anything on him, though, he's going to easily zoom through the air

okay nod to the lola bunny request aside, i think caine would be just head (jaw?) over heels for you, i mean, he would be anyways, but something about your caring and quick witted personality

probably makes literal heart eyes at you and audibly goes "awooga"

absolutely loves watching you do your thing during the in house adventures, on the few times he actually spectates them; though you may or may not be the reason he watches

seems like the kind of person to call you "hot stuff" or "babe"

doesn't really care about the height difference since he rarely ever stands on the ground anyways, plus he doesn't care how small he is

JAX:

to get a good idea of how jax would interact with you, i recommend this similar post! hope this links correctly, im still new to linking stuff in my posts!!

a lot of elements from the post above bleed into this, but lets add some more to it to make it a little more unique to the jessica rabbit idea!

takes it upon himself to try to get some sort of reaction out of you, outside of the name stuff... which proves to be a little harder than he thought.. actually, oddly enough, you seem to enjoy his antics?

well thats certainly new to him...

aaaaaand oh! hey would you look at that you've officially caught his attention, congratulations!

does not take too kindly to being the new second tallest, though... sure you're barely taller than him but its the principle! how can he lord his height over everyone else now!

KINGER:

so here's where i may be biased since i love kinger and i wish more people wrote for him, so his part may be a little longer, we'll see! i write these lil notes as i work on the post

right away i dont think he would call you any of the petnames listed above, or anything similar. i think, should you guys get on a nickname basis he would call you sweeter ones, "my love," "my darling", "my sweetheart", and similar stuff!

does not have lightning reflexes like jax and caine but if the names genuinely do bother you he would likely stop, you'll just have to remind him

imma be so real this man needs someone to stand back and just be there for him because he is going through it, so to have someone in his corner who has his best interests at heart will really do a lot for him

no comment on the height difference since kinger is pretty tall himself (and hes taller than jax! the only reason jax isnt upset about that is because kinger is always hunched), but i dont think he gives a darn about height

i am once again thinking about the in house adventure prompt with kinger that i had earlier, where he gets stuck somewhere and you have to go rescue him... this + that prompt, JUMPS UP N DOWN

#tadc x reader #the amazing digital circus x reader #digital circus x reader #caine x you #caine x reader #caine imagine #jax x reader #jax imagine #jax x you #kinger x reader #kinger x you #kinger imagine

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soapsilly · 5 months

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Redemption - Roronoa Zoro Imagine

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x Reader

Spoilers for One Piece (?)

A/N: This is Part 2 for Betrayal, another Zoro imagine I wrote, so if you haven't read that I'd recommend you do that first.

Summary: After (Y/N) confessed to the Straw Hat Pirates that during their two year separation, she betrayed her boyfriend Zoro and had a child back on the island she was stranded on, she had to leave the group. But once her new home was under attack she had no other choice but to once again hope for the crew's help. Will they forgive her?

Part 3

Requests are closed

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Fire... smoke... screams...

She could see the clouds of smoke from miles away. Once she set foot on the island the first things that greeted her weren't the familiar smell of the autumn leaves or the sound of the market place but rather the smell of the burnt down huts and the pleas of the townspeople. Ever since Whitebeard's death two years ago pirates from all over the world set sail in search of the One Piece. It was exactly like after Gol D. Roger's execution all over again. But her little island? This wasn't where the One Piece was hidden. What these pirates wanted was merely to destroy, to pillage and to artificially drive up their bounty...

"We would never do that", the young woman thought to herself, "all our bounties were racked up for far better reasons. Luffy would never allow this" (Y/N) was well aware, that she herself was part of a notorious pirate crew - or rather she had been part of one until recently...

The realization hurt but she didn't have time to keep thinking about her misery. All that mattered right now was the little boy for whom she had given up everything. As fast as her feet would carry her she ran towards the edge of the forrest where the little cabin that she called her home stood.

She breathed a sigh of relief once she arrived and saw that the destruction of the village had not yet reached that part of the island. But she didn't plan to just sit by and wait for that to happen. The people on the island she called her home weren't fighters. If they were lucky there were a few handymen that knew how to handle tools and heavy machinery but that was about it. She knew that she could never take on those pirates on her own - even if she improved her strenght greatly in the span of those last two years. But she knew who could...

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"Are you sure you're okay?", she whispered, not wanting to get caught by the other Straw Hats.

"Pffft.. Never felt better", the swordsman dismissed her worries with a movement of his hand and continued undressing the woman that was lying underneath him. Calloused hands roaming her body, trying to take in as much of her as he could.

"But - But you should rest...", it became increasingly harder to string together coherrent sentences with the way Zoro was kissing down her chest.

"If you insist", with a swift movement he flipped them around and in an instant the witch was now on top her green-haired boyfriend, straddling him firmly.

She started laughing, "You know, that's not what I meant"

Not many people knew Zoro the way (Y/N) knew him. The other Straw Hats would probably describe him as a 'matter of fact' - guy. His playful side wasn't something he kept hidden - not at all. It's just that the stupid jokes were only funny when they left her lips.

"Hey, Zoro. Dinner's ready", Sanji's words pulled the swordsman out of his thoughts. Every since (Y/N)'s confession nobody on the ship acted normal around him anymore - well nobody except Luffy and Robin. Luffy was never the most delicate, which Zoro was grateful for and Robin probably knew that he just wanted to move on. Nami however didn't leave him alone, offered to speak, to be a shoulder to cry on. He appreciated her good intentions but he just wanted to repress the feelings, exercise and drink his pain away. But the thing that annoyed him the most was that shitty cook being so nauseatingly nice to him. Nami told Sanji that she would raise him hell if he even dared to think to start a fight with Zoro. But what she had achieved, was that the only little thing that the swordsman had left of his (Y/N) was now gone too. He remembered how amusing she found the fights he and curly-brows had - so much so that Zoro tried to initiate fights with the cook. But Sanji never took the bait no matter how hard he had to pull himself together. If Nami-swan wanted something from him, he would not disappoint.

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There she was, it was barely a week and a half since (Y/N) left the Thousand Sunny back on Sabaody but yet it felt like a lifetime. The witch took a few deep breaths before slowly making her way over to the ship. She was grateful that Robin told her that the crew would have to make a stop for supplies an island over before heading to Fish-Man Island. On her way over there, she had hoped that she didn't miss them, that they'd still be there and all the hoping seemed to have payed off. But the hardest challenge - convincing her former friends to help her after everything she put them trough - still lay ahead of her.

Much to her dismay the whole group was not only on the ship when she arrived, they were also in the middle of dinner.

"(Y/N), you came back!", Luffy's voice broke the silence. The girl realized that he genuinely sounded happy to see her. She wasn't quite sure if she felt happy that there was at least one person left on this ship that didn't hate her or sad because she had to tell him yet again, that she still wasn't coming back.

But before she (Y/N) could even attempt to say anything, Nami spoke up, "No, Luffy. She's not. What are you doing here?"

Her voice was cold - so much in fact, that (Y/N) needed two attempts to explain the reason for why she was there. Once she finally ended her plea for help there were a solid few seconds where nobody said a word. (Y/N) had mostly spoken to Luffy as the captain of the ship but she knew that it was really the navigator that she would have to convince to help her. She kept her eyes firmly trained on the Straw Hat anticipating his decision. She, of course, noticed Zoro's presence in the room - how could she not? - but right now all that mattered was that the crew agreed to help.

"Please, I wouldn't ask if I had any other choice...", (Y/N) added quietly after a few more seconds of silence.

"Of course, I'm coming to save you, (Y/N)-chan~", Sanji was the first one to speak up in his sing song voice with hearts in his eyes. For him it wasn't even a question at all. All he saw was a damsel in distress and he'd be the knight in shining armour to come and save the day. He could already picture himself as the hero of the battle and all the ladies clinging on to him to show their gratitude. It was Usopp that had to break the flirtatious cook out of his ramble with a slap on the back of his head.

"What are we even debating about? Of course, we're helping, guys! She's one of us", Chopper agreed. The ship's doctor was always a loyal soul. Chopper and (Y/N) both were outsiders before they met the Straw Hats so she knew how important his nakama were to him.

"No, Chopper. That's exactly the case! She's not. Not anymore", Nami objected, "she should've thought about that before betraying the whole crew. We can't always drop everything just because a former acquaintance happens to have a problem"

Nami liked to say that she was only upset for Zoro - and she really was. She knew that the mosshead was utterly in love with the other woman. She could tell from the way he would loosen up around her, she could tell by the way he would look after her to make sure nothing and nobody would ever upset or hurt her, she could tell by the way he was slightly - only slightly - less annoying when he was around her but the truth was also that Nami was hurt for herself too. (Y/N) was her friend, the first girl that joined the group before Robin finally made them a trio. They had talked about their plans and then (Y/N) just chose the domestic life over everything they had dreamed of?

"And what will you do the next time you'll be in trouble? We won't always be around to save the day", the red-head now spoke directly to (Y/N).

"I promise, I won't ever bother you again, but you haven't seen what I've seen. I'm not asking for myself..."

Of course, she wasn't asking for selfish reasons. Zoro knew that. (Y/N) always chastised him for being so stubborn. But the swordsman knew that she was honestly none the better. If he ever told her that, she'd never admit it but it was the truth. And so he also knew that (Y/N) was far to proud to come and ask them for help so soon after leaving the crew - well, except if she had no other choice. But it didn't really matter anyways, if she was in danger or even just in any type of discomfort, he'd always come and save her.

Zoro had heard enough, "We're helping"

It was the first time that (Y/N) looked at him since she entered the ship. She looked like a scared deer with how wide her eyes were. It was clear to him that she didn't expect him to stand up for her at all. Did she really think that lowly of him? Why did that thought sting? If Nami was anything to go by, he should hate her and helping her should be the last thing on his mind but he just couldn't help his feelings. This time it was Zoro that couldn't stand the tension, so he tore his eyes away from his ex-lover.

"Zoro, are you-", Nami seemed unsure.

"Either we all go or I'll go alone, I'm done talking about this", and with those words the swordsman stood up from the table and left the room. When he passed (Y/N) on the way out, he had to side-step as to not bump into her but just that act alone was the closest he's been to her in a long time.

"Guess, it's settled then", Luffy laughed, "(Y/N) lead the way!"

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Zoro and (Y/N) were lying on the deck of the Sunny at the moment talking about anything and eveything. Usually the mosshead would have a afternoon nap but instead (Y/N) and him decided spend some time together soaking up the last sunrays of the day.

"Is there anything else you want out of life?", (Y/N) asked her boyfriend, who had his head comfortable rested on her lap.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean... other than becoming the world's greatest swordsman?"

"No, why would I?"

"Well, you made that promise to a friend when you were a child. You're a man now. Isn't there anyhting else that you could wish for? In addition to being the best? I mean what happens once you reach your goal?"

Zoro was quiet for a moment, it was clear to (Y/N) that her lover had truly never ever considered there possibly being more.

"Well, what about you then?", he positioned himself so that he was now looking up at her.

"I guess, I'd like to be married someday", she answered nonchalantly.

"Why?", Zoro's voice dripped with confusion but there was also somehting else... judgement maybe?

"I don't know, I think I just like the thought of having that special bond with a person, you know? Belonging together, having each other's back...", she trailed off towards the end. She could feel her cheeks heat up. Talking about feelings was so much easier when drunk...

"Oi! Everything okay with you?", Zoro sounded amused, "you sound exactly like curly-brows"

"Why? Because I want to belong somewhere?", she was irritated by his reaction.

"Don't be so dramatic", the swordsman rolled his eyes, "you belong to the crew like all of us"

She wiggled her way out from underneath him not wanting him on her anymore.

"Do you really not understand how that's different? I just don't want to be just someone's girlfriend for the rest of my life", she was starting to get frustrated now.

"Just someone's girlfriend? And being someone's wife is better? What kind of goal is that?", (Y/N) could sense that Zoro was not taking her seriously at the moment, which made her even more furious. Unfortunately the witch was an angry-crier, so wasn't long before the tears started to fill her eyes. When he saw her reaction, he added, "Damn, you are so sensitive"

"And you are always so goddamn insensitive! Talking to you is like talking to a brick wall!", (Y/N) knew she shouldn't yell but the way he was talking down to her made her feel so helpless.

"I don´t want to talk to you anyways when you're being so difficult. I should've just taken a nap", he was annoyed by her behavior.

"Fine!", with that she stood up and walked away from her boyfriend but as she was walking inside the Sunny she turned around telling him, "and for your information, the are some things that Sanji actually gets very right, you know..."

She knew that indirectly comparing him to the cook would rub him the wrong way but she really couldn't resist.

"Oi, are you actually trying to start a fight or what?!", Zoro yelled after her, raising his voice for the first time the entire conversation.

Zoro mindlessly sat by the railing sharpening his katanas. Would things be different today had he acted a little more sensitive during their fight? Back then he didn't pay it anymore mind. In fact, he didn't think (Y/N) would've either. They had had far bigger fights - or so he thought - but guess it was more important to her than he anticipated. Maybe he wasn't enough for her... Was she really that unhappy?

"Hey...", Zoro was pulled from his thoughts by (Y/N) herself. It was the first time that she directly spoke to him since her confession on Sabaody, "I just wanted to thank you for speaking up back then. You really saved us"

Us... Zoro felt a sting in his chest. Of course, her new man and their son. Helping her wasn't even a question for him but the thought that she was in that situation to begin with made him angry. What kind of man doesn't protect his family?

"Don't mention it", he grunted, still not looking up from his blades.

"No, I mean it. If it wasn't for you I don't know what I'd do", Zoro couldn't help but notice that the way she was talking to him wasn't as familiar anymore almost like they were strangers. First the crew and now (Y/N) too. All this tiptoeing around made him sick - he wasn't used to being pitied and he didn't like it. One bit. He would almost have preferred it if she had just sad down with him and talked... normally?

As if she had read his mind, she asked him if she could sit with him for a moment. She took the shrug she got in returned as a 'yes' and sat down opposite from him.

"Zoro... I - I really never meant to hurt you", she continued. He wasn't sure if he wanted to have this conversation now but the alternative was her leaving again, so...

"It's my own fault. I should've known better", he answered.

"What? Why would you say that?", the woman opposite of him truly sounded upset with his statement. She was trying to catch his eye but he adjusted himself so that he was now facing the water.

"I wouldn't give you what you wanted. I was too occupied with my goal of becoming the strongest. All the training, the exercising...", he trailed off towards the end. "Logical consequences", he tried to sound unbothered.

The witch furrowed her brows, "No... No, no. Where is that coming from?"

"You told me you wanted to get married someday and I didn't take you seriously"

She remembered the fight but hadn't thought about for ages - especially because - in her mind - it wasn't so big of a deal. But then again, the swordsman also never heard what happened after the fight.

When Sanji entered the dining area the first thing he noticed was a sniffling (Y/N). With the speed of lightning he was kneeling in front of her, tracing soothing cirlces on one of her hands.

"(Y/N)-chan! What happened? Who hurt you?", the cook jumped up from his position on the floor.

"It's nothing, Sanji. Just a little fight", she wiped her tears away and tried to smile up at him.

"Was it that stupid Marimo? I'm going to break his face for making you cry", he was already halfway out of the room before the witch could even react.

"Sanji, no, please don't", she pleaded. Usually she'd be the last person to stop either one of them from starting a fight with the other but this time was different.

When the blond heard how desperate she sounded he stopped in his tracks, instead he turned around and started to prepare some tea for himself and the girl.

Once the tea was served, he sat down with her, so they could talk.

"It's silly...", she tried to dismiss the problem but Sanji wouldn't have it.

"How silly can it be if it makes you cry?", at the mention of her tears she swore there were distinct flames in his irises.

"It's just... Zoro and I were talking about our goals in life and when I told him I'd like to get married someday, he didn't seem to like the idea"

"How could anybody say 'no' to a proposal from you? I would marry you in an instant ~", where the witch had seen flames a moment ago, there were now hearts in his irises.

"Oh yeah? Sanji, no offense but you'd marry any woman that's not on the tree by three", she couldn't help but laugh, "But in fact, I wasn't proposing to him. We were fighting because he's just so... insensitive? You know, sometimes it's like only his thoughts and feelings are what make sense to him and so other thoughts and feelings are irrational and therefore not valid..."

"Stupid.. selfish.. douchebag.. mosshead..", Sanji was talking more to himself than to the girl sitting opposite of him, "why are you even putting up with him? You could easily find a better man that would cherish you and worship the ground you walk on"

The witch was sure the cook was talking about himself but let it slide for the moment.

"I love him", she shrugged, "what you don't understand is, that I'd rather have a thousand fights and never ever get married than to marry somebody else"

In that moment, the cook genuinely could feel how serious the girl was.

" - but don't tell him that. Otherwise, I'll never get him to tie the knot", she quickly added.

"I wouldn't dream of it", the blond confirmed.

"So, and now let's make dinner, yes? I'm starting to get hungry", (Y/N) was nudged Sanji in the side, a bright smile lighting up her face.

To further cheer her up, the cook promised to prepare the witch's favourite meal for dinner and (Y/N) was happy to help and spend some more time with her friend.

(Y/N) was in the midst of stirring one of the many pots, that were cooking on the stove - with Luffy as their captain a single dish would never be enough - when she heard Zoro's voice from outside the kitchen.

"Oi! (Y/N) come quick! There's something I want to show you"

The girl turned to the cook, who by the look of it was busy with adjusting the taste with seasoning so every dish was nothing short of perfect.

"Is it okay if I leave you to it now?", she smiled.

"Are you sure? The stupid marimo didn't even apologize"

"Positive", she shrugged, "I'm not angy anymore and I'm sure he isn't either. Why waste time being pissed at each other when you could also just spend the time that you have together being happy?"

And with that she skipped towards the door leading to the deck where her stubborn, stupid marimo headed boyfriend was already waiting for her. But just before she could leave the kitchen she made an abrupt stop, returned to where she left the cook standing and gave him a kiss on the cheek, which almost made the receiver levitate.

"Thank you, Sanji"

"Zoro, no... There's nothing you could've said or done differently that would've changed anything. I'm... so sorry", she hoped that this would convince him that it really wasn't a 'him-issue' and that he shouldn't give up on love all together, but he remained silence. When she realized that he wouldn't answer her she made a move to get up but just before she could leave Zoro spoke up.

"I don't hate you, you know?", it was the first time during their conversation that he had looked at her - really looked her in the face. She could see that he still loved her. He has always been bad at articulating his emotions but that was okay for her because she could always tell how he felt about her. He showed her. Two years of seperations didn't change that.

She didn't expect him to say anything now - least off all that. Of course, she felt glad to hear it but still she couldn't help but to feel guilty... like she didn't deserve forgiveness for all the pain she caused.

"I wouldn't blame you", she sat back down.

"I could never. Three days are one thing. Two years a whole nother", he shrugged, "Besides, Nami hates you enough for the both of us"

The witch sat there shocked but once she saw Zoro's smirk, she let out a relieved laugh.

"I think Nami hates me enough for the whole crew", she giggled.

The two of them started teasing each ofther and for a moment it felt like before. Before Sabaody, before (Y/N)'s confession, before their separation.

"By the way, I like your dress", the woman told Zoro with a deadpan look. It took a few moments for her words to register in his mind before he started yelling.

"Dress?! Are you blind, woman??"

When she saw how frustrated he was with her she couldn't hold back her giggles.

Their laughs could be heard all over the Sunny, much to the bewilderment of a certain navigator.

"Look at that! How could he be laughing with her like that after everything she put him through?", she turned to Robin.

"They love each other. Feelings don't change from one day to another"

"Well, for her they apparently did...", Nami retorted.

The older woman sent the red-head a knowing smile but chose to stay silent.

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The battle was in full effect and (Y/N) was in awe of how strong everybody has become over these last two years. Even the self-proclaimed coward trio of Usopp, Nami and Chopper did a lot of damage to the enemy crew. A lot of parts of town have been destroyed during the fight but the witch knew that this was the lesser of two evils and the townspeople would work together once everything was over to build it up again.

"They're like vermin!", Nami shouted. She was right. The pirates weren't strong - at least not compared to the Straw Hats - but they were many and they were everywhere.

"Doesn't matter. We're stronger", Ruffy laughed.

During the fight (Y/N) felt like she never left the crew, working together like a well maintained machine. For a moment she forgot about the struggles and that all of this would be only temporary - that they would leave once the threat was over - but then a loud explosion pulled her back to reality. A cloud of black and grey smoke rose up from just outside of town where the forrest began.

"My house!", the young witch shouted, "I need to go- I need- I-"

The others could see the genuine fear in her eyes as she was running towards where the flames were blazing up from afar.

"I'm coming with you", Zoro started to follow her.

The girl stopped in her tracks, "Wait, no you can't come"

"Why? Don't be ridiculous. You'll need help"

"Yes, but not from you", she her voice sounded urgent, "Sanji? Can't you come? Or Robin?"

"What the hell is wrong with you? You're wasting time!", the swordsman was getting angry. Why would she rather want the waiter's help before his? He could keep her safer that any body else on the crew but of course she had to be stubborn again.

"Both of you are wasting time. I'm coming", Robin interjected. Zoro tried to object but before he could both of the women already took off.

"What are you hiding, (Y/N)?", the older of the two asked.

"You'll see soon enough"

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Once the fight was over the forrest floor around the hut was littered with pirates. Neither (Y/N) nor Robin believed in taking prisoners. Fortunately, (Y/N)'s little house and garden were unscathed.

"How?", Robin was puzzled.

The younger woman sent her a bright smile, "That's Mim's doing"

"Mim?"

And so (Y/N) told her about her mentor. Mim was an older woman - an old hag to be specific - that took care of (Y/N) when she landed on her island two years ago. She was strict and a little grim but also extremely warm-hearted and as chance would have it, she was known as the island's sorceress. At first (Y/N) believed that it was only hearsay, like it had been in her home village, but she quickly realized that the old lady was an actual witch and better yet - she would teach her.

"I see. So, your mentor protected your home with a spell", Robin concluded as the both of them walked over to the little hut.

As they walked up to the door, an old woman and a little child came up to them. When Robin saw the little boy with the green hair and the outstreched arms, she quickly realized why (Y/N) was so against Zoro accompanying her.

"You need to tell him, (Y/N)"

"I can't, Robin. It wouldn't change a thing"

"You don't know that", she insisted.

But before (Y/N) could give an answer, they heard the voice a certain green-haired swordsman.

"What wouldn't change a thing?"

(Y/N) stiffened up. When Zoro saw the little boy in her arms his eyes immediately grew wide. The whole crew waited in anticipation.

It was the toddler that broke the silence with his babbling, signaling for his mother to be wanting to be let down. Once she set him down the little boy immediately started to wobble his way over to Chooper, where he promptly fell on his behind and happily started to wildy gesture around.

"Is that - ? Why did- ? When-?", Zoro was lost for words and so were the others. It was Nami that spoke up first.

"(Y/N)...", she walked over to the other girl and hugged her tight, "I'm so sorry"

"You didn't know", she assured the navigator, "to be honest? I probably would have reacted the same way". She sent her friend a half-smile.

"Ma-ma?", the toddler demanded his mother's attention, two fists full of Chopper's fur in both of his chubby hands.

"Ah. No, no. Leave the nice Tanuki alone, honey", she walked over to the little boy scooping him up in her arms again, ignoring the ship doctor's protests over the misidentification.

Zoro cleared his throat to get her attention back to him. As much as he enjoyed the moment of reconciliation, he still thought there was some things the two of them had to talk about.

Within seconds the mood switched yet again and all of a sudden everybody was reminded of the reality of the situation they were in.

"Maybe we should give those two a minute or two...", Robin suggested.

"Yeah", (Y/N) answered but didn't take her eyes off of Zoro, "Sanji, why don't you cook something nice for us? The fridge should be stocked...". Her suggestion was met with instant approval from their ever hungry captain.

Sanji just nodded, still not having processed the newly gained information. How could the marimo be a father??

Nami made grabby hands towards the Mini-Zoro in (Y/N)'s arms. Usually she was rather unimpressed with babies. But this was different. This baby belonged to her best friend and... Zoro.

"Come to aunty Nami", (Y/N) didn't hesitate for a moment to hand him over to the red-head. Had it been Luffy or Usopp she'd think twice but she trusted Nami to take care of her baby.

"I'll leave you two to it, so you can talk", the navigator continued, "What's the little man's name by the way?"

"Oh, I decided to name him Sanji", (Y/N) answered seriously.

"Excuse me?!", Zoro was shocked.

"Just joking! I'm sorry", she tried to calm the mosshead down. From behind her, she could see Usopp and Nami snickering behind their hands and Sanji nearly dying of heart palpitations. "It's Sora", she added quietly as the others left her and the swordsman alone.

"Is (Y/N) coming back now?", the witch heard Chopper ask somewhere in the background but she didn't have the mental capacity to think about anything but Zoro at the moment.

"Sora...", he repeated thoughtfully once they were alone, "Does he- does he have my name?"

(Y/N) felt anxious. Would he like that?

"Well...", she started but had to stop because she didn't know what to say, "I mean... yeah?"

"Roronoa Sora...", Zoro didn't know how to properly express his feelings in the moment. Hell - he didn't even know himself. But he knew that he liked the sound of that.

"Why didn't you say anything?", he asked her. It was almost like a plea.

"Would it have changed anything? I didn't want to burden you"

"Burden me?", he was in disbelief, "How could you ever burden me?"

"Don't you understand? I was alone on this island. All alone and I had to make a decision" she was getting emotional - for the first time since her confession. There were no more jokes and funny digs to mask how she really felt.

Zoro felt terrible, he knew how hard it was for her to feel isolated and then to go through something like this without any help? When they first got together he would've never thought that he'd ever grow so attached to the girl but it didn't take long for him to really fall madly and deeply in love with her. Sometimes he'd feel bad that couldn't really express how he truly felt for her but he promised himself he would do anything in his power to protect her. But he couldn't even do that.

"You had your goal... and... and... I never wanted to hold you back", (Y/N) couldn't stop the tears from falling anymore. Being separated from him was the worst feeling in the world but she would give up everything and more for him.

Zoro pulled her into his chest, holding her close and tucking her head underneath his chin. From the way hear hands would immediately grab at his robe, it was noticeable how much she missed his touch.

"I'm so sorry. I'm sorry you had to go through all that. I'm sorry I wasn't there. I'm sorry you felt like you had to lie", he hated that she felt like she had to protect him. The crew - especially Nami - had been so terrible to her, "I love you more than anything..."

She pulled back and looked up at him. Tears still streaming down her face. Even now, he couldn't help but to think how beautiful she was. And for the first time in over two years his lips met hers.

The kiss wasn't hungry or sensual. Zoro could taste the salt from her tears on her lips but it didn't bother him at all.

Once they broke apart she smiled up at him, "I've missed you"

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"Are you sure?", Nami shouted down from the Sunny.

"A pirate ship is no place for a child", (Y/N) answered back.

It's been a week since the fight. The townspeople were already in the process of building up what's been broken and it was time for the Straw Hats to move on. Of course, the offered the witch to join them again but nothing changed for her. She had to think about her son first and foremost - as much as she would miss life on the sea. Most of the crew already boarded the ship. It was only Zoro left on the beach with (Y/N) and their son.

"I guess it's goodbye then, huh?", the witch had a sad smile on her face.

"I promise it's not forever. As soon as Luffy is pirate king I'll come back for you... both of you", the mosshead still wasn't the most secure in his new role as a father but as long as he had (Y/N) he knew that it'd be alright.

(Y/N) went in for what would be the last hug for a long, long time, "Promise me you'll be safe. Who's gonna make you take care of yourself when I'm not there?", she smiled.

The two of them exchanged a few more kisses and 'I love you's before the crew told them it was time to depart. During the last hug, Sora, who was seated in his mothers arm reached, out and grabbed his father's cheek with a happy laugh. Zoro furrowed his brows for a moment but then quickly started grinning.

"And you keep an eye out for your mother, yes?"

The toddler babbled as if to confirm that he understood his father's order.

A loud sob disrupted the family moment. When they turned to the Sunny they saw the whole crew smiling down at them - much to the discomfort of Zoro, who was still not entirely at ease with PDA. It was Franky that the initial sob came from. The cyborg has always been prone to tears but on closer examination it was almost the whole crew that was at least a little teary-eyed. Everyone except Luffy, who had a puzzled look on his face.

"Oi, that baby looks like Zoro..."

That sentenced earned him a hefty slap at the back of the head from nami and a hearty laugh from (Y/N).

"I'm gonna miss you guys so much", she smiled through tears.

"We'll be back before you know it, (Y/N)-chan~", Sanji shouted down to her.

"Oi! Let my girlfriend alone! Nobody's gonna miss you", the swordsman, who had joined the others on the ship by now, yelled at the cook.

(Y/N) stayed on the beach listening to the two of them fight until they were too far away to make out the words anymore. Then she turned to the little mosshead in her arms.

"Guess, it's just us now huh? Roronoa Sora..."

***

Tag List: @ikissnishiki, @multi-writer-personal-blog

#roronoa zoro x reader #one piece imagine #roronoa zoro imagine #zoro roronoa x reader #zoro imagine #one piece x reader #one piece

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imyourbratzdoll · 9 months

Note

Hiya love! My request is for Steve Rogers. Reader and Steve a fairly new relationship. They are having a fight about something and Steve gets loud and gesticulates, Reader flinches (physical abuse in a past relationship, Steve doesnt know about it yet). He notices... How would He react to that?

hello, I decided to turn this into a headcanon, and I hope you enjoy what I wrote.

warning - slight mention of a past abusive relationship.

the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips

HEADCANON OF STEVE REACTING TO YOU FLINCHING DURING A FIGHT

You and Steve had only been dating for a little while, about five months now. You had met during one of Tony Stark’s parties. Steve had seen you in the corner, staying away from everyone as your nerves caught up.

Everything had been okay for a while, you got along so well, and it felt like a fairytale. You two hadn’t fought yet, which made you think it was too good to be true.

Maybe you should’ve thought otherwise because now you were fighting big time over something so small.

You knew he had specific rules for certain things. Like how you weren’t supposed to come to the compound when he was working, the public wasn’t supposed to know of your relationship because he had enemies, and Steve didn’t want you to get hurt.

But he had forgotten his phone and wallet, and you thought he might need them. Being the kind girlfriend you were, you also decided to get him some lunch seeing as you had to go there anyway to drop his things off. What could be so harmful?

Apparently, you were wrong. Steve was furious when you showed up. His ears and face turned red from anger, and he walked around you, slamming the door shut, causing you to jump slightly.

“What did I tell you about coming here?! How can you be so stupid?!” He raised his voice, and you watched him raise his hand. You didn’t think Steve would actually hit you, but you flinched anyway. Your eyes immediately closed, and you began to close in on yourself.

You never told Steve about your previous relationship, one because he never asked, and two, it was too early in the relationship to disclose. You didn’t want to be seen as weak in front of THE Captain America.

Steve caught it straight away. His anger immediately disappears and is replaced with pains in his chest. He quickly steps back, making himself smaller than you because he can see you shivering from his height. “Doll, It’s okay…” It felt like he had been shot, watching you curl into yourself. “I’m here… I’m not going to hurt you. It’s okay.” Steve whispers, keeping his hands to himself, waiting for you to come to him instead.

You shiver, slowly opening your eyes and noticing Steve staring at you worriedly. “I–I’m sorry…”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about, Doll. You didn’t do anything wrong. I was the jerk. It’s okay.” He reassures you, smiling softly when you slowly approach him and immediately sink into his arms. “Now, do you want to tell me why you reacted that way, Doll?”

“J–just an ex…” You swallow, not wanting to relive those memories, and Steve doesn’t expect you to. He squeezes you tightly against him, his face growing red with anger again, but not toward you.

For once, Steve was happy with the privileges that come with being an Avenger because once you fall asleep. He’ll have Tony find this man so he can pay him a little visit.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

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dem-obscure-imagines · 3 months

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For the Longest Time

Steve Rogers x Reader

Fandom: MCU

Summary: In 1943, Steve was visited by his soulmate, a girl from the future who already knew him. Decades later, after waking up in a brave new world, Steve meets his soulmate again, except she hasn’t met him yet. And she won’t travel to 1943—or know he’s her soulmate—for another year.

Note: This is a continuation/prequel/whatever you wanna call it to A Long, Long Time, a Steve Soulmate AU I wrote a while back. Long story short, I watched Knives Out again and got Steve Rogers brainrot. Happens to the best of us. I might write a third part if there’s interest…

Warnings: Canon-typical violence

Word Count: 2.2k

Reader Is: Steve’s Soulmate, Super-Powered, Female

Steve remembered the day you’d met—for the second time, though he didn’t realize that right away—like it was tattooed on his brain. It was a few years after he’d come out of the ice and he had taken Tony’s advice to get out more, which had led him to the mall.

By some stroke of fate, it happened to be the day a pyromaniac with a flamethrower was there, but before he could even spring into action, you did, hands out in front of you and what seemed to be an invisible shield poised there, redirecting the flames and protecting the teenage movie theater employee that had nearly been caught in the crossfire.

A quick flick of your wrist knocked the attacker’s gun out of his hands, giving Steve the opportunity to step in and apprehend the guy.

You sat on a bench after, breathing heavy, a cut on your forehead from the shattered glass of the skylight. The paramedics were taking care of the civilians, and Steve wandered right over, impressed.

“Are you alright, ma’am?” He asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just glad everyone is okay.” You told him, meeting his eyes.

He finally got a good look at you and froze, looking bewildered. A deer in headlights. “You’re…”

It was you. Of course it was you. Since the moment he’d been unfrozen, he’d been looking for you. His soulmate. The girl from the future that popped in on his twenty-fifth birthday, turned his whole life on its head, and then left without warning, hours after their first kiss. Back when he was five-foot-nothing with asthma and more medical conditions than he could even remember.

Back before he was anything.

And you’d loved him anyway. You’d given him the day of a lifetime and hope for not only a future, but for love. That someone could love him for him despite it all.

“I know.” You knew? “I…I don’t know what it is or…why I can do it.”

Your powers, you meant. You thought he was talking about your powers and not your name, which was burning a hole into his wrist beneath the thick leather band keeping it hidden.

“Right. Well, it’s…” He sighed, gathering his words, hiding the elation and pain behind a warm smile. “It’s a good thing you were here. I don’t have my shield on me.”

“Mine is built in.” You chuckled.

“You, uh…have a cut. On your forehead.”

“Oh, do I?” You reached up and found it with your fingers and they came away a bit bloody. “Shit.”

“Come on.” He offered you his hand and you took it, letting him lead you over to the counter of the theater. “Hi, do you have a first aid kit?”

“Yeah, of course.” The girl at the counter said, rushing to grab it.

Steve patched you up with gentle hands, off in a corner on your own. Staring up at him, you finally realized the obvious. This was Captain America. And he was using a careful finger to spread a triple antibiotic ointment on your cut.

Play it cool, (Y/N).

“Do you do this often? The hero thing?” Steve asked.

“No.” You shrugged. “Haven’t had much opportunity thankfully. I mean…I’d like to, I just didn’t know how to…get into it, I guess. Any email I sent to Stark or S.H.I.E.L.D. or whatever would end up on a slush pile.”

“Well, I’ve got some connections. If you’re seriously considering it. I can’t say I recommend it, but…Obviously you’ve got that protective instinct and you seem to work well under pressure.”

“My heart is about to leap out of my chest.” You admitted, laughing as he carefully laid a Bandaid over the cut, closing the kit.

“That makes two of us.”

“But, yeah, if you think I’m really cut out for it…I’d love to help.”

***

It was those words that sealed your fate. Three days later, someone from Stark Industries got in contact with you and before you knew it, you were on a plane to the Avengers’ remote facility in Upstate New York with a bag full of clothes, a handful of books, and a dream. You met the others, Wanda, Natasha, Bruce. Eventually Bucky came into the mix, too, Steve’s friend from before the ice who…had a staring problem, you were pretty sure. He kept looking at you, seemingly bewildered you were there.

You never did figure out why.

After a particularly tricky mission in rural Kentucky, you had landed yourself in the infirmary, taking a pretty long nap complete with an IV and a heartrate monitor.

It was Nat that found Steve in there, wringing his hands, tears in his eyes. It was the one secret he still had: you were his soulmate and wouldn’t know it for another six months. Your name had been etched onto his wrist for seventy years, through the transformation, through the ice, through everything.

“She’s gonna be okay, Steve. Bruce thinks she might wake up soon.” Nat comforted, sitting in the chair next to him. She put a hand on his shoulder, confused by her friend’s sudden mood.

“I know, I just…” He shook his head. “I’m worried about her is all.”

Nat pressed her lips together, tilting her head. “This seems like a little more than that. You wanna tell me what’s really going on?”

That was her super power, he remembered. She was a human lie detector.

“I can, just…not here.” Steve nodded, leading her out of the room, out of your earshot, but still in sight thanks to the soundproof windows.

Nat’s hands settled on her hips, waiting for an answer. Instead, Steve took the cuff off of his wrist and held it out to her, letting her read the letters that had been etched there for the better part of a century.

Her jaw dropped. She stammered, arms crossing. She met his eyes and when she saw the sadness there, the guilt and longing, her expression softened.

“I should have told her. A long time ago, I should have told her but I can’t. In six months, on her twenty-fifth, she’s going back in time to 1943 to meet me on mine. And it…didn’t seem like she knew until she was already there.”

“So you’ve just been holding it in this whole time?” Natasha asked. “You’ve been in love with her…”

“Since the forties, yeah.” Steve nodded. “My great lost love, as Tony likes to call her when he rags on the band I wear.”

“Does he know?”

“No. Just you. And Bucky.” Steve amended. “He was there when she…”

“Right. Weird.” Natasha let out a long sigh, looking through the window. “Well do you need any help with that? I can get some information out of her. I’ll be super subtle, I promise.”

“I don’t know. She probably thinks my soulmate is dead, too.”

“Ironic.”

“No kidding.” Steve sighed. “Well, I guess if she says anything, let me know. It’s kind of a relief someone else knows.”

“We’ll get you through it, Steve. Six more months. That’s nothing.”

“Yeah.” Steve gazed longingly through the window. “I’m gonna sit with her for a while. I don’t want her to wake up alone.”

He slinked back into the infirmary and sat in the chair beside your bed, watching your steady breaths and listening to the beeping of the heart monitor. Natasha watched him through the window, heart strings pulled as tight as they’d ever been. Her best friend was in love and there was almost nothing he could do about it.

***

Three months later, you, Steve, Bucky, Sam, and Nat got snowed in on a mission in Alaska. The little cabin you’d been sent to was unreachable by any of the jets the team could send and besides, it wasn’t worth the risk of Clint or someone getting stuck out there in this.

But despite the fireplace raging with fresh-chopped wood, you were still shivering, all wrapped up for the night.

Steve watched you, forlorn. Natasha nudged him, motioning towards you. He chuckled and shook his head. He couldn’t. Right? What, take advantage of you in your vulnerable state.

Bucky seemed to agree with Nat, grinning into his mug of coffee, giving him some caffeine for his night watch.

Steve got up off of his seat, walked towards the fireplace and adjusted the logs, adding another small one for good measure. He looked back at the others, who were aggressively encouraging him to go over to you, and gave in.

He knelt down in front of you, clearing his throat, which caused you to jolt awake.

“Is everything okay? Are we under attack?”

Steve chuckled. “No, uh, we’re all good. Are you cold?”

“Kind of, yeah.” You admitted. “I’ll be okay, though, I promise.”

“Do you…want some company?” He asked, unsure of how to word it. “I…run warm.”

“Do you mind?” You asked, sitting up a little.

His heart raced. This was going better than he thought. “Here, um…” He raised the blanket on top of you and wiggled in underneath you, letting you lead as the two of you settled.

“God, you do run warm.” You hummed, all but collapsing against him, a hand flat against his chest while you adjusted.

“I didn’t always.” He said, voice sincere. “Buck and I used to have to share a bed in the winter. It was brutal.”

“Sounds like it.”

“Yeah, he snores.” Steve joked, earning a laugh.

“Oh I know. I can hear him three doors down back at home.”

“And I can hear you from the other room!” Bucky called, sending you and Steve into a fit of giggles, like kids at a sleepover. “It’s a small cabin.”

You heard him and Sam devolve into a bickering match about the truth of whether or not Bucky actually snored that loud.

You looked up at Steve, asking “is it okay if I put my arm here?” while carefully draping an arm across him.

“Yeah, of course.” He nodded, leaning against the pillows and pulling the blanket up around your shoulders.

You rested your head on his firm chest, listening to the way his heart was racing. Cute.

The drowsiness took over almost immediately, his warmth lulling you to sleep after a long day undercover out in the snow. You were asleep in minutes, breaths slow and long and even.

But once he was absolutely sure you were out, Steve pressed the gentlest kiss to your forehead, grateful beyond words to have you in his arms again.

***

“You thought today was her birthday???” Natasha asked, incredulous in the kitchen.

“I got nervous!” Steve defended. “I saw it on her whiteboard in front of her door and I thought—”

“I think Scott wrote that the last time he was here. He keeps track of all of that.”

“Doesn’t surprise me.” Steve replied, shaking his head. “Well, does she have any birthday plans?”

“Yeah, Wanda and I are taking her out shopping this afternoon. Tony gave her his card. And then the party tomorrow night.”

Steve nodded. “Okay, good. That buys me some time.”

“You got a plan?”

“I’ve had a plan.” Steve admitted. “Been sitting on it for about seventy years, in fact.”

***

You got out of bed, got dressed, and headed to the mall with Natasha and Wanda. The same mall, in fact, that you and Steve had met in the first place.

“Where was it?” Wanda asked, wearing a very fashionable pair of shades.

“Right over there.” You pointed to the spot in front of the movie theater, up on the second floor of the mall. “Guy with a flamethrower and a dream. He’s in jail now.”

“Yeah, well, that’s what you get when you dream of arson.” Nat said, causing you and Wanda to laugh.

You shopped around for clothes, got some pretzels at the Wetzels, and window shopped. You already had what you were pretty sure you were going to wear the following night. It wasn’t every day one of the Avengers turned twenty five and met their soulmate. Tony was determined to make it a spectacle. He had a habit of doing that, it seemed.

In the food court, you seemed kind of down, chin resting against your fist. Wanda picked up on it first.

“It will all be okay, (Y/N). There is nothing to worry about.”

“Yeah, I know, I just…I don’t know. I’m stressed about it. Tomorrow I get the answer to the question I’ve been asking for twenty-five years. I just can’t believe it’s almost here. And…I don’t know, there’s just a lot of variables. What if they don’t like me?”

“Come on, (Y/N), what’s not to like?” Natasha said, digging her spoon into her blizzard from the Dairy Queen.

“I don’t know…It’s just a lot to think about.” You said, leaving it at that. You didn’t know how to begin to explain to them that you had feelings for someone already, one of your coworkers no less, and someone who already had a soulmate, despite the fact that he’d lost her nearly a century before.

You wondered why Steve never looked for her. Or maybe she’d passed before he even resurfaced. It was sad. A guy like that didn’t deserve the heartbreak. He deserved to be loved.

The three of you finished your shopping trip and then returned to the Facility, where you unpacked the new odds and ends you’d acquired. Steve checked on you again, offering you words of wisdom, a comforting hug. He promised that your soulmate would love you, whoever they were.

Little did you know, he already did.

#steve rogers #steve rogers soulmate au #captain america #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #the avengers #marvel #captain america x reader

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angelbaby-fics · 8 months

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No Matter What

Pairing: CG!Steve Rogers x Little!Reader (fem nicknames used)

Word Count: 1k

A/N: omg this idea has literally been in my docs since i started this blog and i only finally wrote it all out!! y'all know i loooove thinking about pre serum steve, and i love exploring that concept through the eyes of his little 💕 also i just wanna add, i dont think worms are icky or slimy! little was just being cheeky!

“Daddy? Would you still love me if I was a worm?”

The question took Steve by surprise; why would you even ask something like that? You were splayed out across the couch, torso propped up by pillows and one leg limply strewn over Steve’s thigh, exhausted from an hours-long playdate at Peter's house. The two of you had been sitting in silence as he read a book and you watched a cartoon on your tablet, when suddenly you popped the question.

“Why, babydoll? Are you planning on turning into a worm any time soon?” He said with a chuckle, which was apparently the wrong answer. Your face fell.

“You was s’posed to say yes, daddy,” you said with a frown.

“Absolutely I would, my baby, I’ll always love you no matter what.” Steve reassured you, giving a light pat to your socked foot. But you weren’t entirely convinced.

“You sure daddy? You’d still love me even if I was a icky slimy worm?” You raised your eyebrows at him.

“You’d still be my babygirl, right?”

You thought for a moment, pondering the logistics of worm transfiguration, before nodding.

“And you’d still have the same loving heart? And the same brilliant mind?”

You nodded again. “Then of course I would still love my beautiful baby, even if you were an adorable, tiny little worm.”

You giggled at this, and repositioned yourself to be nearer to your daddy, abandoning your tablet on the ground. Setting his book down as well, Steve wrapped his arms around you with a smile. As you buried yourself into his body, he softly ran his thumbs in circles on your back. Snuggling into his biceps, you mumbled into his muscles. “You’d have to be careful if I was a worm, cos daddy’s so big and strong!”

Steve kept stroking your back, but his hands slowed down as he began to get lost in thought. It didn’t take long for you to notice the change in his mood, so you pulled your head out from his embrace to check on him.

Your daddy had a look on his face you’d never seen before… not sad, but distant. Like his body was here with you, but his mind was back in the past. As soon as he felt your curious gaze on him, it was as if he snapped back into reality. Not wanting you to worry, he put on a soft smile and kissed you on the head, but you couldn’t let that moment go. “What’s wrong, daddy?” You asked, your eyes serious and pleading with him to be honest with you. He thought to himself for a moment and took a heavy breath.

“You know, babydoll, daddy didn’t used to be so big and strong. He was small once upon a time” Your eyes widened in disbelief.

“You mean you were small like a baby? Small like me?”

Steve nodded, cracking a smile at your shocked reaction.

“That’s right, only I wasn’t a baby. I was a grown up, but my body stayed tiny.”

“How come?”

“That’s just how I was born, sweetpea.”

“And then you work out lots and lots and eat your veggies and turned into big daddy like now?”

Steve sighed again.

“Not quite, angel. You see, I tried really hard to get big and strong like I am now, eating my veggies just like you said, but nothing helped. Then one day, a scientist gave me a special medicine, and it made me grow. All this happened before you were born, babydoll, so you didn’t know me back then.”

You furrowed your brows in contemplation. Although Steve had omitted any details unfit for a youngster like yourself, he hoped it still made sense in your tiny mind. You just couldn’t believe it though, daddy was always known for being strong and brave, it was even in his theme song! The thought of him being anything other than the man you’ve always known and loved just wouldn’t compute in your little head. Steve could tell you were still confused when he had an idea. Carefully, he stood up with you still entangled in his arms, and brought you over to the big bookshelf in the living room.

Steve went straight to the top shelf, the one you couldn’t reach, and pulled down the old photo album you’d always been curious about. The worn leather of the cover reminded you of an ancient spellbook, and no matter how many times you asked, Steve had never brought it down for you to look at until now. He brought it with him as he sat you back onto the couch, and took a seat next to you, opening the book across both of your laps.

Inside the book, you didn’t find spells at all, just pictures of people you couldn’t recognize. Black and white photos of a boy, who kind of reminded you of your friend Peter. He wore clothes that were just slightly too big on him, almost like he was pretending to be a grown up instead of actually being one. And his face looked familiar.

Suddenly, your jaw dropped. You looked up at Steve, back down to the photograph, back up at Steve, over and over, processing the puzzle you had just put together. “That’s you, daddy!” You cried out.

“I know!” Steve laughed. “Can you believe it?”

You shook your head, and resumed staring at the photo, your daddy’s familiar features becoming more and more obvious to you the longer you looked at it. Your attention was only torn from the image after a few minutes when Steve spoke up from beside you.

“Would you still love me if I were small?”

You looked up at him, his hopeful smile and his love-filled eyes. The same ones in the photo you’d been studying for the past five minutes. Softly, you reached up to cup his face in your tiny hands, feeling his cheeks fill with warmth as you did so.

“Same smile… same eyes… same daddy?” You asked.

“Yeah baby, same daddy.”

“Then yes. I always love daddy, no matter what.”

#little!reader #agere fic #steve rogers x reader #steve x little!reader #steve rogers x little!reader #cg!steve #cg!steve x little!reader #daddy!steve #daddy!steve rogers #chloe's fic

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couragemydearheart · 3 months

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𖦹⋆ ༘ ☼ 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬.

# 01 — steve rogers x fem!reader # 02 — cw: none, only cute tooth-rotting fluff! set after ca:tws, established relationship # 03 — wc: 1.09k # 04 — a/n: *sing-songy voice* i’m backkk *normal voice* so i know i’ve been pretty much mia for the past few months but i think i’m back for good now. which also means, i'm going to be writing and posting whenever i can, so requests are open again, feel free to send them in!

as for this one-shot (which was originally supposed to be a drabble), i chose stevie to break me back into posting because i love him and he’s steve and i just love fluffy and adorable steve so much. this idea just flowed in as i wrote and i sort of love how it turned out, so i really hope you enjoy! feedback of any sort is always appreciated ♡

steve didn’t usually sleep in. never really had the habit of doing so, and his job with s.h.i.e.l.d. never really allowed him the opportunity either. but it had somehow started happening since he started spending the nights with you. maybe it was the fact that he had finally gotten a free day on the weekend or that he was simply too tired from his last mission. nevertheless, mornings with steve were pretty much one of your favourite ways to begin your days.

so it was pretty weird when you woke up and found steve in bed at 9 a.m., curled up into you and still asleep. the sun streamed in from the window behind him, covering him in sunshine and god, was he beautiful. your breath hitched at the sight of his peaceful expression— no furrows between his eyebrows and no frown twisting his lips— and made the decision to let him sleep in for as long as he wanted and whenever he wanted. you were rather well acquainted with steve’s bad habit for not stopping until he’d run himself completely ragged. sometimes not even then. he could use all the sleep he got.

but you just couldn’t resist pressing your hand to his cheek, thumb gently— just barely caressing the dark bags under his eye. steve hummed lowly but did not seem to stir from his sleep and, pulling your hand away before he could wake, you moved to gently untangle yourself from him.

breakfasts with steve were also an uncommon occurrence with the unpredictability of his job, but the both of you cherished and made the most of every time you got to do things together. even the mundane ones like this.

but just as you began to move, a strong hand tightened around your waist, pulling you back into a firm chest. “where do you think you’re going, sweetheart?”

goddamit.

your heart lurched at the sound of his voice— deep and rich, rough and tired from his sleep. you couldn’t stop a smile pulling at your lips as you turned back around to face him. “good morning stevie,” you hummed quietly, hand raising to press against his cheek.

steve tightened his arm around your waist until you were pressed up entirely into him, and then pressed his face into the crook of your neck. “good morning my love,” he mumbled, “care to tell me why you were abandoning me in bed like this?”

you huffed a laugh. it wasn’t a long shot to say steve got a bit dramatic sometimes, usually when it was just the two of you and especially when he was fishing for some love. “hush, you big baby. i just wanted to go get breakfast started.”

“breakfast can wait, i wanna stay in bed with you for a bit longer.” he moved his face and brushed his nose against yours, before pecking your lips softly. “please y/n/n?”

the world could’ve been coming to an end, and with the way steve was looking at you— golden hair mussed from sleep, the prettiest blue eyes still sleepy but soft as they gazed upon you, and his lips pulled into a tiny pout— there was no way in hell you would’ve refused him.

“alright darling, we can stay in for as long as you want.”

his hand squeezed your hips in thanks before he pressed his face into her hair. he inhaled, his strong chest rising and falling under her hands, and then he spoke, “i hate that we don't get more of such mornings. i can’t get enough of you like this. when there’s no hurry for me to rush somewhere, when it’s just the two of us.”

you sighed quietly. you knew how much steve hated not being able to spend enough time with you because of his job. he always beat himself up over missed dates, movie nights and the time lost, despite you knowing steve couldn’t help it and never giving him any grief over it. besides, you knew steve would never be able to rest without having done his best to help in any situation. that was one of the traits that simply made him so special. something that made him him. plus, he never missed any chance to make up for it, and damn did he do a good job at it.

“i know, my love.” you moved so you could look him in the eyes, rubbing his hands over his shoulders and biceps. “someday, we will get all the time we want for ourselves. but until then, i don’t mind sharing you with the world a bit longer.”

he smiled softly. “i love you, y'know that?”

you hummed your reply and pressed closer before putting your lips to his in a soft kiss. steve made a soft sound in his chest that had your heart lurching in your chest. his hand skimmed up and down your back, fingers spreading wide over the fabric of the t-shirt you’d stolen from him, before they finally settled on your waist again. his fingers scrunched your t-shirt, pulling you impossibly closer as the kiss grew heated; another sound leaving him, this one louder, as your fingers found his hair, nails scratching gently at his scalp. the sound jolted you out of the trance steve’s touch never failed to put you in. you gasped as you pulled your lips from his and ignoring steve’s unhappy whine, you settled back into the mattress after putting some distance between your faces.

“is this why you’ve been trying to keep me in your bed, captain?” you murmured, swiping your thumb on steve’s lower lip as you looked up at him coyly. if staying in bed is what he wanted, you could at least tease him a bit first.

he groaned quietly, squeezing his eyes shut tightly after eyeing the smirk pulling at your lips. what was he doing playing a game he knew he’d never win?

“i was only hopin’ for some snuggles from my best girl,” he murmured, tucking some hair out of your eyes. “but you know i’d be the last person to say no to more, sweetheart.”

“mhm, i see that with your eagerness.” you laughed finally, leaning up to press kisses across his cheeks. hearing a big, burly man like steve ask for snuggles was just enough to crack your resolve. "you can have your snuggles, stevie."

steve chuckled as he pulled you closer and on top of him, and the sound filled your heart with so much love you could feel it vibrating throughout your entire body.

yeah, mornings with steve were definitely your favourite way to start your days.

taglist @demigoddess-of-ghosts (you filled out my taglist form for steve like months ago, so i have no idea if you still wanna be tagged, but i hope this is fine bae <3)

feel free to comment if anyone else would like to be added!

— © property of couragemydearheart. do not copy or post on any other site without permission.

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buttercupjosh · 7 months

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Jump Then Fall (The 4 times everyone else thinks you’re Quinn’s romantic partner and the 1 time you actually are)

(Gif credit to @gabelandeskog)

Word count: 5,045

Genres: strangers to friends to lovers

Warnings: none

A/N: I’ve had this specific idea in my mind for about 2 years but never wrote it out because I decided to write other things first and took certain things from this concept and kinda put it into my other stories but after Quinn was named captain in September 2023, I decided to write it out. (Speaking of my other stories, I did write a Quinn fic in 2022, which you should check out). The title and this story is based off of the song, Jump Then Fall by Taylor Swift. It’s set from this past week (October 7th-14th), with additional fictional elements added. (Yes, I decided to publish it on Quinn's birthday because why not?) It’s written with a female reader in mind because I’m a female of color but the reader doesn’t specifically have to be a POC or a woman and there’s little dialogue. As always, I’m open to any and all feedback, comments or questions; just put them in my inbox or dm me. Thank you so much in advance for reading, I appreciate it😌

(P.S. I have other stories (linked here) that I have written for other players as well if you want to check it out)

“I was enchanted to meet you” -Enchanted by Taylor Swift

Prologue

Losing in a fantasy sports league can come with many different types of punishment, whether it’s being forced to eat a pancake for every wrong player you picked or putting in extra money in the winning jackpot. Your punishment for losing in the fantasy sports league you participated in was wearing a very 2014 Tumblr-esque “lol ur not Quinn Hughes” shirt that your best friend got you as a gag gift for Christmas to a Canucks game. This punishment came at a convenient time when you already planned to be in Vancouver for a work conference. Accepting your fate, you proudly donned the cringey t-shirt at the game, and as expected, people did look at you weirdly. What you didn’t plan at all was that your game seats happened to be located next to where a group of some of the Canucks WAGs were sitting. Lenasia, Ethan Bear’s fiance, noticed your shirt and immediately began talking to you. You explained to her why you were wearing such a thing and that clicked an idea in her brain. Lenasia turned away, began talking again to the other WAGs she was with, and was also frantically texting someone. After a brief period, Lenasia faced back towards you and told you to wait after the game because she had a surprise for you. You had a slight inkling of what that surprise was but silently hoped that it didn’t actually come true.

After the game was completed, Lenasia led you through the tunnels of Rogers Arena and told security that you were with her. It felt weird to hear her say that, considering that you just met her a few hours ago. You stood together outside of the Canucks locker room and the feeling of embarrassment continued to rise within you as the guys filed out, some of them laughed at your shirt and then, you saw him. Quinn was right there, less than 10 feet away from you. Your suspicions were right; you would have just settled for a signed item from him and have no interaction with him but you were actually going to meet him right now. You felt like you were going to pass out but tried your best to maintain your composure. Lenasia introduced you to Quinn and told him the same story of why you were wearing a shirt with his name on it. Quinn didn’t fully quite understand why the shirt was such a big deal but agreed to take the photo with you. He was nice enough to wrap his arm around you with a side hug and being that close together oddly felt natural and comfortable for two people who had just met for the first time. After the photo was finished being taken, Quinn kindly offered to sign your shirt so he inked his signature on your right shoulder. You thanked Quinn and Lenasia again for everything and left to return to your hotel. It was a lot to process but you were rightfully shocked that you started your night fulfilling some silly punishment and ended it by meeting the person whose name is on your shirt.

The following day, you sent the photo of you and Quinn from the night before to your friends and your friends joked in the groupchat that if you played your cards right, you might be next in line to date him. Yes, you posted about it on Instagram and tagged Quinn so everyone knew you actually met him. Since the day after you met was an off day, Quinn had some time to scroll through Instagram and he saw your post. Seeing your post led him to see all of your posts and eventually, he ended up in your DMs.

Do you always look that cute wearing someone’s name?, an Instagram message from a very familiar verified account read. You couldn’t believe it and thought you were somehow dreaming when you read Quinn’s message but it was very much real. You replied back: I guess I always do but I only wear the names of attractive guys and considering this is my only piece that has an athlete’s name, I guess you should consider yourself lucky ;) It felt odd to shamelessly flirt with a famous athlete (considering that most of them wouldn’t give you the time of day anyway) but it wasn’t like you were actually going to date him or be his friend anyway (or so you had thought).

The flirty interaction eventually led to the exchange of numbers and to a long message chain between the two of you that would extend on for months. You did return home from your trip to Vancouver and maintained a long-distance friendship with Quinn. Your friendship with Quinn was great; you trusted each other, shared some secrets, did virtual movie nights together sometimes, sent memes back and forth, told some of your closest friends and family about the other, and communicated on the phone constantly. Once of your favorite things to do with Quinn was that he would always call you during your morning commute to work and on his commute home after his games to decompress after the game. Since you didn’t live in an area where there was an NHL team, your options for seeing Quinn again in person were limited and you weren’t sure if you were going to ever see him again. It felt weird to ask about seeing each other in real life so everything was just kept online until one day, the timing was right to move things offline.

————————————————————

About a year into your friendship, the right opportunity opened up for you to return to Vancouver to see Quinn again. To the delight of many, Quinn was named Captain of the Canucks and he invited you out to his first game as Captain. You were important enough to him that Quinn wanted you to be there to celebrate that amazing accomplishment; you were surprised by the invitation but excited at the prospect of seeing him again. You used some of your remaining vacation time and paid for your plane ticket to and from Vancouver; Quinn wanted to pay for something so he placed you to stay in the nicest hotel that Vancouver has to offer. You were thrilled to spend a week in Vancouver and hopefully make some fun memories with Quinn while you were there.

Your anticipation for seeing him was slightly halted when Quinn revealed that he couldn’t pick you up from the airport because your flight arrived at the same time that he had captain responsibilities to fulfill in the community so you and Quinn agreed to meet to have dinner later on that evening. Emma, Anthony Beauvillier’s girlfriend, picked you up from the airport to take you to the hotel; you had never met or interacted with Emma before but you appreciated her kind favor. The drive from Vancouver International Airport to the hotel (which Quinn did not tell you beforehand because he wanted it to be a surprise) was normally a 30-minute drive, which turned into an hour drive due to traffic. While you and Emma waited in the rush hour traffic, you talked and learned more about her, her relationship with Anthony, what things are like in Quebec, and what it’s like to be a hockey WAG. Emma had a lot of questions about your relationship with Quinn and was curious as to why you, his romantic partner, weren’t around as much before. You corrected Emma by telling her that you and Quinn were just friends and nothing more and you came to support him as your friend.

“Are you sure you and Quinn are just friends because he must really like you a lot to pay for you to stay here?”, Emma asked as you pulled up to the Fairmount Waterfront hotel.

You replied yes, you were just his friend and she handed you over your room keys that were passed to her through the chain of command. You thanked Emma for giving you a ride and you both mentioned wanting to hang out with each other again.

Quinn was not kidding when he told you that you would be staying at the best hotel in Vancouver; your room had spectacular views of the Vancouver Harbor and was very fancy. As you got ready for your dinner with Quinn, you began to reflect on your conversation with Emma about him. You could admit that he was endearingly handsome and had qualities that you were looking for in a boyfriend but you and Quinn never really discussed romantic pursuits and outside of that initial flirty exchange when you first started talking to each other and the occasional compliment, there wasn’t much flirting really going on between you. You had always assumed that Quinn had someone, whether it was someone in Vancouver or in Michigan, waiting in the wings for him. Your thoughts were interrupted when you got a text from Quinn that he was coming up to the room. It was happening; for the first time in over a year, you got to see your internet best friend in person and you were ecstatic. Although he had a copy of the hotel room key, Quinn knocked on your hotel room door and a smile beamed across both of your faces as you recognized who was standing at the doorway. Quinn engulfed you in a long-awaited hug and you rocked back and forth. There were many areas in his life that made him feel delighted but hearing you laugh was one of the best sounds to him and holding you in his arms was the greatest feeling.

After separating, you realized that Quinn was dressed for a night in while you were dressed for a night out. The weather app indicated that a storm was rolling in so Quinn dressed to stay in at the hotel, order food, and have a movie night, while you were willing to brave the rain to try some of Vancouver’s cuisine. Quinn thought that you looked nice and wished that he communicated to you that Vancouver storms were no joke and you looking cute in your rain jacket wasn’t going to push him to go out in such weather either. He also really wanted to spend time with you without the distractions that come from him going out in public. You agreed to order in and changed into more comfy clothes while you waited for the food to arrive. Preseason hockey was over so Quinn decided to treat himself (and you) to some authentic Chinese food from his favorite place. As you and Quinn indulged on the delicious Chinese food, you began catching up with each other on what had occurred in your lives recently. As Quinn shared what had been going on his life lately, you heard all of the words he was saying but the only thing you were thinking about was how you just wanted to be together and you would lose focus sometimes as he spoke. You and Quinn kept talking so much on so many different topics that it was almost midnight before you decided to watch a movie. You settled on watching Ferris Buller’s Day Off before drifting off to sleep.

————————————————————

For Quinn, it felt surreal to wake up the following morning next to you. After being in contact with you for over a year, here you were, right there, sleeping peacefully on the other side of the bed. Throughout the night, Quinn was respectful of your boundaries and no lines were crossed, everything was kept PG. You were awoken by the sound of water running coming from the bathroom and waited for Quinn to emerge out. After he came out of the bathroom, you discussed the day’s plan (which there wasn’t really one) and decided to go to breakfast at a very special place. Quinn still had some time off before the first game of the season so you had even more extra time to spend with him.

On the car ride to the restaurant, you began to imagine what it would be like to live in Vancouver. Sure, this wasn’t your first time there but you saw it in a different light as you were gazing outside of the car window with Quinn by your side. You arrived at your destination and Quinn got out and kindly came around to open the door for you; it was a sweet gesture that he didn’t have to do.

The restaurant was the same cafe that Quinn and Petey tended to frequent and the wait staff at the restaurant was so familiar with him, down to the point that they knew his exact order: plain buttermilk waffles topped with whipped cream, strawberries, raspberries, and sides of bacon, potatoes, and guacamole. The waitress, an older woman named Louise, reminded you of an endearing grandmother figure; she even put your meal on the house as a treat. After the meal concluded and you were on the way back to Quinn’s car, a fan was waiting right outside of the restaurant for an opportunity to meet the captain of their favorite team. The fan approached you, Quinn’s romantic partner, to take their photo together. You wanted to correct the fan for being wrong but you also could tell that Quinn wanted to get going so you let it be; besides, Quinn didn’t even hear the fan address you as his lover. Quinn later on apologized for the fan encounter but it wasn’t an issue for you, you understood who he was and the things that came with being a famous athlete and you expected something like that might happen while you were together. You continued on the rest of your spontaneous day, being touristy around Vancouver, visiting Gastown, Stanley Park, and Granville Island with the cutest tour guide.

————————————————————

Your time in Vancouver coincided with Canadian Thanksgiving. Dinner is usually held at the team captain’s house and since Quinn is the captain, dinner would be held at his place but since his apartment couldn’t quite hold the entire team, Tyler Myers offered to host dinner at his home. It was exciting to celebrate a holiday together and learn more about each other’s Thanksgiving traditions but it also made you feel a little nervous because you would be meeting more of Quinn’s teammates and spending time with their families. The Canucks team’s Thanksgiving dinner was potluck style and everyone had to bring something so you and Quinn offered to bring a dessert. You decided to make pumpkin chocolate chip cookies and Quinn graciously purchased the ingredients for you and let you use his kitchen. Quinn was a good sous chef; he actually enjoyed baking with you and you both had fun together. You even got into a little squabble over who would wash the dishes before agreeing that you would wash them and Quinn would dry them. After the cookies were done, you both got ready for dinner.

On the car ride over to the Myers house, your mind began to wander, contemplating about the domestic moment you shared earlier with Quinn and how you would want more moments like that with him. Quinn felt the same way but wasn’t sure how to verbally tell you that. Before you knew it, you had arrived at your destination. You casually mixed and mingled with the other Canucks players and their families; as expected, some of the players had kids and the kids were curious to know who you were and you explained to them that you were Quinn’s friend. Tristan, Tyler’s son, asked if you were Quinn’s lover friend and you were going to tell him no but you were interrupted by the message that dinner was about to be served so you let it go.

Despite your initial nervousness about the event, dinner actually went well and your cookies were a hit. The other Canucks players and their wives and girlfriends accepted you well into their group; they liked you for you and they liked you with Quinn. Due to the fact he’s their captain, some of the guys pushed Quinn into giving a speech and he expressed his thankfulness and gratitude on such a special holiday; he even looked at you when he mentioned how glad he was to have the people in the room as a part of his life.

During the post-dinner relaxation time, you and Quinn settled into watching the CFL game that was on before Tristan came up to ask the both of you to play hide and seek with him and his sister, Skylar. The football game wasn’t that interesting to either of you so you both agreed to play. Since you were the guest, the kids had you count first.

As you were looking to see where Quinn and the kids were hiding, you observed around the Myers home and began to think about how this was something that you had desired to have one day; a home full of love, laughter, and children. You checked the guest room closet to see if anyone was hiding in there before greeting Quinn by shouting BOO as soon as you opened the door. Instead of stepping out to help you find Skylar and Tristan, Quinn pulled you back into the closet and shut the door for a quiet moment alone. Quinn’s heart was beating super fast, not just because you inflicted fear into him for a brief second, but also because you were close to each other inside the dark closet. You obviously couldn’t see in the darkness but Quinn kept staring at the presumed outline of your mouth because he wanted pull you closer and kiss you so bad. Quinn almost had his chance to ask but was interrupted by the sound of children’s feet pattering on the ground and the door opening. Tristan quickly corrected you that as the counter, you were not allowed to hide until it was your turn to hide. An all-too-familiar chuckle came out of Quinn and you rolled your eyes at him since he was the one who caused you to break the rules before playing another round of hide and seek with the kids.

When it was time to say goodbye, Tristan and Skylar came over to give you a departing hug and Tristan loudly said that he had fun with you, Quinn’s special friend. It warmed your heart to hear his little voice say that to you. Before dropping you off back at the hotel, you had asked Quinn if he was going to stop and get his annual Thanksgiving apple pie slice from the bakery. He had mentioned his Thanksgiving tradition to you only once but it meant a lot to him that you had remembered that. Due to the fact that you made dessert from scratch, Quinn forgot to pick up the pie beforehand to bring to the party and the bakery with the pie that he enjoyed was already closed, but it was okay. Quinn didn’t mind skipping his tradition because he got to make a new memory with you. You and Quinn had such a good time at the Thanksgiving dinner and you had quietly hoped to get the opportunity to spend more holidays together.

————————————————————

The Canucks home opener was finally here. It was both exciting and nerve-wracking for Quinn; he knew that this day was coming but it felt a little more surreal that it was actually here. Quinn’s parents, Ellen and Jim, even flew in to watch their son receive his official captaincy before jetting off to go watch Jack and Luke at the Devils home opener the following day. You felt a bit of deja vu being back at Rogers Arena, since that was the place you and Quinn had met over a year ago, but that deja vu feeling came in a good way. It was fun to watch warmups with the other WAGs and you got to see Emma again. As warmups went on, you held J.T. Miller’s son, Owen, in your arms while Natalie Miller held her daughters, Scarlett and Scottlyn, closer to the glass to give them a better view to see their father on the ice. Since the day was very busy for Quinn, the only time he got to see you was for a brief second during warmups. Quinn’s heart swelled up with joy when he saw you at the glass, holding baby Owen and he also thought you looked so stunning and beautiful in your outfit. He wanted to pass you a puck but instead, he gave you a quick wink and passed a puck to a young fan with a sign and continued to skate around.

Warmups were over and the game was about to start soon so you went up to your seats. Instead of having you sit with the other WAGs, Quinn got you a ticket next to his parents. Of course, Quinn wanted you to meet his parents for the first time in a much more formal way but due to the limited time that you all had in Vancouver, it was slightly more convenient for you to meet his parents while at the game. It was a little awkward at first to meet Quinn’s parents because you were just Quinn’s long-distance friend and meeting the parents is a big deal but Jim and Ellen already knew who you were because you were important enough to their son that he had told them about you. Ellen mentioned to you that she suspected you were dating Quinn because he spoke so highly about you, indicating a possible crush but always shut it down by mentioning that you were just friends.

When it was time for Quinn to be introduced as captain, you got delightful goosebumps on your body because you were so proud of him. You already knew he was captain but watching some of the old Canucks captains pass the torch over to one of your best friend’s brought a rush of happiness to you; your heart even skipped a beat as he put on the jersey with the “C” on it. The game itself was amazing; the Canucks beat the Oilers 8 to 1 and Quinn had a 3-point night. Throughout little moments during the game, Jim and Ellen would ask you different questions about yourself and share tidbits about Quinn; it was nice that they were actively engaging and getting to know you. You were worried that Jim and Ellen wouldn’t like you as a person and for their son but it turns out that they enjoyed your presence and it also didn’t hurt that it was really fun to cheer for Quinn alongside his parents.

After the game was over, you, Jim, and Ellen walked down the same tunnels to the Canucks dressing room that you had walked to over a year ago when you met Quinn for the first time but this time, you weren’t as nervous to see him. Still experiencing the high from the evening’s successful game, Quinn was so ecstatic to see you, waiting for him with his beloved parents. When Quinn had invited you to come to his game, he had imagined seeing you again in those familiar halls with his parents in his mind and that moment of imagination came true. In his post-game interview, Quinn had mentioned that he would hold onto the night’s memories forever and you would also hold onto those memories in your own way too.

————————————————————

Since the Canucks had to leave for a roadtrip after their home opener and you were leaving soon, you had one last day to both celebrate Quinn’s birthday early and also to do something to say farewell to you. Instead of just a big fancy birthday/goodbye dinner, you and Quinn decided to go out for a day on the golf course and out to a casual dinner afterward; you also had to run a few errands because Quinn needed to grab some things before leaving on his upcoming road trip. Quinn picked you up to go with him to drop off his parents at the airport so that you could see them again and he wanted your opinion on some things when he went to IKEA. The car ride over to the airport was fine and Jim and Ellen didn’t mind getting in some extra time with their potential child-in-law. You and Quinn stepped out of the car to help with their bags and give his parents a goodbye hug. While you were giving the Hughes family some space and waiting in the car, Ellen whispered in her son’s ear that you were a keeper. His mother was right and Quinn had known that from the moments that he spent with you, the conversations you shared together and you were everything he ever wanted. Quinn had the keys to unlock your heart but he just needed to use them. Throughout the entire time you were there, Quinn began mentally preparing himself to confess his feelings for you somehow but those plans always fell flat because the anxiety of not being sure if you liked him romantically lingered throughout the air and he was scared to ruin the friendship you shared. He was falling for you hard but he was afraid to take that leap.

With one final wave goodbye, Jim and Ellen left for their flight to New Jersey and you and Quinn continued on the day’s itinerary. Goodbyes were always going to be a bit difficult, no matter who or what you were saying goodbye to. Quinn tried to not wear his heart on his sleeve and be strong but you could tell that Quinn was sad to see his parents go so you reached over and gently placed your hand on top of his. Quinn told you thank you and you shared a quick glance with him before arriving at IKEA. Instead of immediately telling you how he felt, you and Quinn aimlessly wandered around the large store; you had mentioned to Quinn that his apartment was missing a floor lamp in the living room so that he didn’t have to use the overhead ceiling light as much and he took you to IKEA to help him pick one out. Thursday afternoons at IKEA were quiet so it was almost like you and Quinn had the whole store to yourselves. As you walked through the store, you and Quinn looked at the different room setups and asked each other what you liked and disliked about each room setup; you also both began to imagine what it would be like to share a home together. Quinn even absentmindedly grabbed onto your hand and your fingers interlocked together for a brief second before you found the lamps and slipped your hand away to look at them. You picked out a black floor lamp that matched the aesthetic of Quinn’s apartment and continued to wander around the store until you reached the cash register. Quinn didn’t try to hold your hand again and neither of you brought up that moment for the rest of the day. Your time at the golf course was fun; being the self-proclaimed golf expert he was, Quinn did win the game.

Quinn decided that he wanted to have his birthday dinner/last meal with you at Moxie’s. While you waited for your food to arrive, you gave Quinn his birthday gift. It was challenging to get a gift for someone who could afford plenty and rarely mentioned what they wanted so you got Quinn a signed copy of Golf Kitchen, a cookbook that included recipes from some of the most famous golf clubs around the world, and a grill set that looked like golf items; it combined two of his interests: cooking and golf. Quinn was a bit taken aback by your gift because you didn’t have to actually get him anything; your presence and time spent with him was a gift within itself. He had mentioned it before but Quinn was so grateful to have you as a part of his life and he was going to miss you tremendously once you returned home. You would miss him so much and were sad that your great time with Quinn was coming to an end; you still had an extra full day in Vancouver before your flight early Saturday but the Canucks were leaving for Edmonton on Friday after morning skate.

After dinner, Quinn walked you up to your hotel room and you and Quinn continued to soak up all of the time you had left together as much as you could before the inevitable departure came. Before leaving, Quinn passed you a signed warm-up puck from last night’s game, mentioning that he owed it to you. You held the piece of rubber in your hand, smoothing your fingers over his signature.

“So now, you own two things with my name on it”, Quinn cheesily told you.

You were trying to hold back your tears and masquerade your emotions but you began to sob while embracing Quinn for one last time. Quinn felt a bit emotional too and he blurted out that he was in love with you; he decided to be brave and not let the fear take over. You thought your mind was playing a trick on you when you heard him so you looked up at the green eyes that were staring and waiting for a reply from you.

“Did you just say that you’re in love with me?”, you hesitantly asked.

“Um, maybe I should have kept that to myself. I’m sor-”, Quinn rambled.

You cut Quinn off with a kiss, something that he had been waiting a while to experience with you. You repeated that you had loved Quinn back as well. A long wave of relief rushed over the both of you; the jump was worth the fall and you were there to catch him. You didn’t have to say it out loud but Quinn knew that you would always be there for him. Quinn asked if you were available to come back to visit him for Christmas and New Year’s. Maybe losing in a fantasy league wasn’t so bad after all.

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagine #Quinn Hughes x reader #quinn hughes fic #vancouver canucks #hockey fic #my writing #hockey writing #hockey imagine #please read my story

253 notes · View notes

evansbby · 1 year

Note

Maybe like a Drabble where he gets omega to send him nudes while he’s at practise and they have phone sex 😰😰😰

Okay so I kind of went full on slut mode and wrote the most depraved slutty thing ever. Be warned. 😩🥵

Pairing: dark alpha!Steve Rogers x naive omega!reader

Warnings: phone sex, daddy!kink, dubcon/noncon, dark Steve, Steve has an obsession with your titties, Steve is a fuckboy, 18+ only, minors dni

Summary: Steve wants phone sex and it’s not like you can say no to him.

"Baby, send me a picture."

It's the first thing Steve says to you when you pick up the phone. You've just finished drying your hair and applying your skincare when your phone vibrates, your alpha's name glowing on the screen and making your heart skip a beat.

"Wh-What?" Your eyes widen immediately and you gulp, "Steve, I... I thought you were at practice?"

He grunts, "I am. We’re taking a break but the coach wants to keep us all night. Guess you won't see me until tomorrow."

His words make your heart sink — no Steve for the night? The thought makes the omega inside you mourn in desolate despair. You've gotten used to his intense warmth at night, and how he holds you so tightly and buries his face in your neck, and presses kisses on your skin and rubs you soothingly up and down your body, and-

"Omega. I asked you a question."

You quickly snap out of your daydream, "Oh. I'm sorry, Steve. I didn't hear you."

Steve sighs in irritation, "I asked you what you're doing right now."

"Well, I did the laundry and then I studied. Then I took a shower and now I've just finished my skincare and I'll probably just read my book before I go to bed."

"Mm, how was it?"

"My book? It's pretty good, actually. I'm almost finished with it, it's about—"

"Not the fucking book, your shower." Steve snaps before inhaling sharply, "Your shower, baby, how was it?"

You’re already dreading where he's going with this, "It was fine."

"Did you touch yourself?" He sounds strained, and you hope to God he's alone right now. He most likely is, because you hear his fly unzipping, and his tone grows husky. "Answer me, baby. Did you touch yourself in the shower?"

"N-No!"

"Don't lie, baby omega." Steve laughs hoarsely before clearing his throat, "I know you touch yourself. I don't like it because I want to be the only one who touches your little pussy because I own it. But it's still hot when I hear you in the shower sometimes."

Your mouth drops open, "What...No! I don't do that!"

Another chuckle, "Are you calling me a liar?"

"No! I just... You probably just... uh... You probably just misheard!" You want to bury your head in the ground, and a part of you is happy that your alpha isn't here to see how mortified you look in person.

"Mm, I don’t think I misheard your squeaky little moans, or the sound of you fingering yourself. Tell me baby, how many fingers can you fit up there?”

“Steve!”

“Address me properly, omega. Or else you don’t even want to know what I’ll do with you tomorrow.”

The edge in his tone and the looming threat of a punishment has you bowing your head, the phone trembling in your hands. “Sorry, daddy.”

“Good girl. Now tell me what you did in the shower.”

You’d rather die, but you know you have to answer him. “I —uh— I did what you just said.”

“I want you to say it.”

The heat is rising in your cheeks, and you look helplessly at Steve Junior, as if he could help you get out of this debacle. You can hear a steady pumping on the other end of the phone, and it doesn’t take a vivid imagination to realise what Steve’s doing.

“I—uh—I was touching myself.” You whisper.

“I know, baby. Daddy always knows.” You hear him spit down on his dick (or you imagine that’s what he’s doing) and then the pumping resumes. “That’s so fucking hot, my baby omega touching herself and thinking about her daddy in the shower. How many fingers could you fit in, baby?”

You bite your lip, “Um… I don’t know.”

“Answer the fucking question.”

“Two! Only two! Hurts if I do more!” You blurt out.

“What a fucking baby.” Steve hisses, the pumping getting faster, and it sounds so lewd over the phone. “I’ve split your little cunt in half over my dick but you’re still so tight, aren’t you?”

“Y-Yeah, daddy.” You press your thighs together, the desperation and lust in his tone mixed with the condescension makes you want to spontaneously combust.

“Mm, and I know you look so sexy in the shower, all that soapy water all over your body, the hottest omega on campus and you’re all mine. Fuck, if I was there right now I’d already be inside you. No prep.”

“Please.” It’s a whisper and a moan, and you squeeze your thighs even tighter.

“Send me a picture, baby. I need to see what you look like. Show me your tits, and make sure your face is showing too.”

“But Steve—”

“Do it. Or else.” He grunts, sounding almost crazed with lust as he co to he’s to jack off. You can imagine how hard his dick is, how angry and red and hard and leaking with precum. Steve swears before continuing, “And make sure to squeeze your tits and play with your nipples. Be a dirty fucking whore for daddy, okay? Now do it.”

Maybe it’s a good thing that you’re alone right now. You quickly turn Steve Junior so he’s facing the other way, before taking your top off. It’s embarrassing, and you’re self-conscious throughout, but you manage to do what Steve says, snapping a few selfies where you think you look entire ridiculous. But you send them anyways, hoping they’re good enough.

There’s a pause before Steve lets out a moan. And it’s one of the hottest things you’ve ever heard—hearing him moan like that. It makes you wonder where he is, and hope to God that he’s alone.

“God, you’re so fucking sexy, baby.” Steve hisses, “Looking so innocent while you play with your tits. Bet you could make millions off of these pictures.”

“Please, just delete them!”

“I’ll add them to my collection. But don’t worry, sweet girl, these are for my eyes only. None of those other horny fucks at college deserve to even look at you.”

His words are oddly comforting, but your breath hitches when —out of nowhere— Steve ends the call. But only two seconds pass by before your phone vibrates again and you gulp.

A video call.

“I want to watch you, baby.” It’s Steve, and he’s in a locker room, his voice echoing and it looks like he’s alone. He’s shirtless too, and you bite your lip at his muscular body, and the veins that protrude as he flexes his arm. His fingers wrap around his huge dick, his eyes boring into yours as he jacks himself off.

“Put the phone somewhere and then I want you to play with your tits some more.” He orders, a slight strain on his voice, “And don’t even think about arguing with me, omega.”

Submissively, you prop your phone up against some pillows before doing exactly what he tells you to. You try to pretend it’s him touching you, him squeezing your breasts and twisting your nipples with his expert touch. But your hands are no match for his calloused, expert fingers.

“Mm, just like that, baby omega. You’re so hot, such a fuckin’ tease—putting on a show for daddy, aren’t you? I said, aren’t you?”

“Y-Yes!” You whimper.

“Good baby. Now squeeze your tits together. Mm, just like that. I wish you could see how sexy you look. You wish daddy was there, don’t you? I’d fuck your tits, baby. Bet you’ve never experienced that, have you? Fuck, I know your tits would feel so soft and sexy on my dick.”

Every word that’s coming out of his mouth is pure filth. Pure, utter filth but it’s like he’s switched a button inside you, and you can’t help but whimper at his words, wanting every single depraved thing he’s promising to do to you.

“Daddy,” you cry softly, suddenly feeling needy for him, and it only eggs him on further, his hand now a blur as he pumps his hard cock.

“You’re gonna make me cum, baby. No one does it for me like you do, omega. Fuck, I need you to show me your ass now. Turn around. Slowly, I want to see everything.”

You don’t even hesitate, your pussy now throbbing with need as you turn around. You’re only wearing a pair of thin flowery panties and he hasn’t asked you to take them off, but they’re so small that both your ass cheeks are on display.

“Fuck, your ass is so sexy, baby omega. Arch your back a bit more for daddy. Mm, just like that. That’s so good, fuck. You have the best ass on campus, baby. Best ass I’ve ever seen.” Steve’s blonde hair has fallen down over his forehead, his blue eyes bright and excited, cheeks red and so is his dick. “Point your ass at your camera baby. And shake it for daddy, let me see it bounce.”

A large part of you feels so silly and awkward, but you’re so horny at this point that all common sense goes out the window, and again you do exactly what he asks you to. God, you’re so happy you’re alone in the house right now—if anyone saw you, you’d never live it down.

Steve runs a hand impatiently throw his hair, brushing it back with his eyes glued on you the entire time. You can see his abs flexing, his chest riding up and down as he breathes rapidly. He’s so ridiculously attractive, it’s insane.

“Now spank yourself.”

Your eyes fly open, a protest on the tip of your tongue but you’re silenced by the warning look in his eyes.

“Do it right fucking now, omega.” Steve says through gritted teeth, “Don’t you want to make your alpha proud?”

“I-I do, but—”

“Then fucking smack your baby ass just like how I would if I was there. And keep your eyes on me the whole time, omega. Don’t you dare close them—I want you looking at me while you do it.”

It’s mortifying, but you do what he says, his blue eyes so dark and blown out with lust, locked with yours as you lightly spank yourself.

“Harder, baby. Like how I would do it.”

You immediately obey, smacking your ass harder, letting out a quiet ow as you do it.

“Mm, I love how your little ass jiggles, baby. Tell me, did that hurt?” Steve asks, still pumping his hard dick with his eyes locked on you.

You inhale shakily, “A little.”

“As much as it does when daddy hits you?”

“N-No.” you shake your head, lowering your gaze as you feel the submissive part of you take over completely, “I’m not big and strong like you, daddy.”

“Mm, you’re fucking teasing me, omega. Damn right you’re not. You’re just a baby, a weak little fucking baby who needs her daddy all the time, don’t you?” Steve is close, you can tell from how his pumps grow faster and faster, and you can’t take your eyes off of him.

“Mm, just a baby. Need my daddy.” You hear yourself whining, and that’s when you notice that you’re humping against the mattress, still trussed up and with your ass pointed at your phone. Your thighs gleam with your own arousal, wetness dripping down your legs almost obscenely.

“Fuck, look at that little baby ass. Wish I could cum all over your ass, baby.” Steve grunts, “That’s what I’m gonna do when I get home tomorrow. Spank the fuck out of you till you can’t sit straight, and then cum all over you till you’re covered in my scent. Fuck, shake your fucking ass for me, omega. I’m gonna fucking cum.”

And he does. And it’s incredible. Spurt after spurt of white cum shooting out of his dick while you watch with an open mouth. There’s sweat dripping down his body and his jaw is tense, and he lets out a string of swears mixed with your name as he unloads.

And you’re rutting against the mattress the whole time you watch him, but it’s not enough. You need more. You need him. And it makes you sob in frustration, you’re so wet… So wet but you need your alpha to touch you how only he knows how to.

“Daddy, please,” you sob softly.

“Aw, baby omega,” Steve coos once he’s recovered from his orgasm, “Look at you, still so needy. I can see your drippy little baby pussy has made a mess of the sheets. You’re a horny little baby, aren’t you? But you’re too stupid to make yourself cum.

“Please help.” You beg him.

Steve laughs, “Why would I do that?”

Your jaw drops, “Wh-What?”

Steve’s already pulling his football jersey over his head, “I have practice, baby. And anyways, you’re not allowed to touch your pussy, only I am. Therefore, you’re gonna have to hold off until tomorrow.”

“That’s not fair, Steve!”

“That’s not fair, Steve!” He mocks you in a high-pitched voice before laughing, “Don’t pout. I’ll make you feel real good tomorrow, so long as you’re ready for me. Naked and on your hands and knees, like how every omega should wait for her alpha.”

“B-But—”

“Gotta go, omega, the coach is calling the team over. Thanks for the show, I’ll see you tomorrow, baby.”

THE END

#steve rogers #Chris evans #steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #chris evans fanfiction #poyt drabble #anon

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lives-in-midgard · 5 months

Text

🎄Afternoon Cuddles

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

Summary: Steve comes back home from a mission and you decide to spend the afternoon cuddling.

Word Count: 500

A/N: Hey everyone! This is part of my Fluffcember and I hope you like this! 💖This prompt reminds me of a Chris Evans fic I wrote this year. Click here if you want to check it out as well.

Divider made my @saradika.

Prompt 7: Cuddles, kisses, hot chocolate

(prompt from @buckys-wintersoldier)

Masterlist | Fluffcember Masterlist

Steve has been on a mission for three weeks and that day he finally came home. It was his last mission for the year. Steve made sure he didn’t have to go there anymore so he could spend Christmas season with you. Steve called you the day before and told you that he was on his way home. You missed Steve very much and you are so happy to have him back home. While Steve was away you decorated the apartment with some Christmas decorations and when Steve called you yesterday you made sure you had everything at home for dinner.

While you waited for Steve to come home, you prepared dinner and also cleaned the apartment a little. You were in the kitchen when you heard the key turn in the door. A smile immediately spread across your face.

“Sweetheart, I’m home.” Steve called quietly. With a smile you walked to the apartment door where Steve was leaning the shield against the wall. He was still wearing his Captain America suit, which means he must have gone straight to your apartment after landing at the compound.

“Hey, Stevie.” That’s what you said as you saw him standing there and Steve smiled back. You ran to him and jumped into his arms. Steve chuckled but then hugged you tightly.

“I missed you too.” Steve sighed and kissed your forehead. After a while you broke the hug. You looked up to him, Steve cupped your face and kissed you softly and then you smiled at each other.

“I love you so much sweetheart.”

“I love you too.” You said back softly. Steve took your hand and looked around the apartment, noticing the decorations. You saw Steve’s gaze soften as he looked around.

“Do you like it?” Steve looked back at you and squeezed your hand.

“I love it.” You giggled.

“Wait, how was the mission?” You asked Steve after a while.

“It went well, but I’m really exhausted.”

“Oh, Steve. Would you like to take a quick shower and change into some comfortable clothes so we can cuddle before dinner?” You suggested and he nodded.

“Yeah, that sounds really good.” Steve said and you gave him a kiss on the cheek. While Steve went to shower, you made hot chocolate for both of you. You carried them into your bedroom and placed them on the bedside table. Then you sat down in bed, put the blanket around yourself and waited for Steve. After a while you heard the water stop and a few minutes later Steve entered the room in comfortable clothes. Steve sat down next to you, and you reached for a cup of hot chocolate.

“For you.” You said when you gave it to him.

“Thanks honey.” You and Steve took a few sips and then cuddled. He held you close and slowly rubbed your back. You both missed this so much and were so happy to be together again.

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holylulusworld · 1 year

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Truth or dare

Pairing: Mobster!Steve Rogers x Wife!Reader

Side pairings: Bucky Barnes x Natasha Romanoff, Tony Stark x Pepper Potts

Characters: Sam Wilson, Sarah Wilson, Clint Barton, Peter Parker

Warnings: angst, Steve being an asshole, mentions of arranged marriage, strong female leads, crack, redemption

A/N: I wrote a hopeful ending. Not a fluffy one.

“Steve, why don’t you wear the blue suit? You know the one I bought some weeks ago. It’ll match the dress I’m going to wear tonight,” you look your husband up and down, smirking as he looks stunning in the suit he chose to wear.

“We won’t match,” Steve is grumpy tonight. He’s usually gentler and softer around you. “No ladies tonight. This meeting is about business and forming an even stronger bond. Things you don’t know shit about.”

“But-“ you frown deeply. “Pepper said she’ll be there. Natasha and Sarah will come. Darcy will bring her better half too.”

He sighs so deeply you fear he’ll stop breathing. “Fine. It’s a meeting for wives,” he waves you off with one flick of his wrists.

“What’s that supposed to mean, Steve?” you are confused as hell. “The ring on my finger means I’m your wife. I think I didn't get the memo we got divorced.”

��Our marriage was an arrangement to help your father out,” he bites back. His tone is filled with venom, and you flinch when he steps toward you. “Do you know why I agreed on this marriage?”

“My father was in trouble and had the money to get him out of said trouble. You wanted me in return,” you meekly reply. It’s the first time you don’t feel comfortable around your husband.

“No. I wanted to stop looking for someone I can fuck. I married you to have a warm place to put my dick. So, you can stop trying so hard to be a good wife. You are all I want. A warm body for me to use.”

You visibly flinch at the blow he just threw at you. That hurt. His words cut so deep you are not sure your heart is still beating.

Arranged or not. Your marriage was special to you. You cherished the bond you believed you have with your husband. Now he claims to not even love you.

It takes you a moment to push the tears away and keep the sob down your throat. You clear your throat and put on your best-faked smile.

“Well, then I can stop trying, Steven,” your voice is even, but inside you are dying. “You should’ve told me so much sooner. I wasted so much time on this marriage. What a shame.”

Steve watches you straighten the dress you are wearing. A dream of blue and silk. His favorite color.

You sigh deeply as you look down at your body. “This dress was fucking expensive, and I can’t return it. Maybe I can sell it on eBay or shit,” you shrug. “Some other women will kill for a second-hand designer dress like this.”

He swallows thickly as you kick off your heels and make your way toward the bathroom. “Have fun with your friends and allies. I hope Pepper is not too disappointed I’m not going to be around. We had plans. You know.”

You enter the bathroom and silently close the door. As you sink to the ground and cradle your face in the palms of your hands, Steve leaves the room.

He slams the door shut, and curses.

“How could I be so wrong? He only ever wanted to use me…”

“Hey, where’s your lovely wife?” Sam cocks his head to search the room for you. “Steve? Where is Y/N?”

“At home, where she can’t disturb business. She knows her place now,” your husband bites back. He scrunches up his nose and shrugs as Pepper and the other women gasp audibly.

“Punk don’t tell me that you took Rumlow’s comment to heart,” Bucky sizes his friend up. He frowns as Steve tells his best friend what happened tonight. “He said that you got soft to fuck with you. He was all over Y/N that night. She turned him down, you idiot!”

“Steve, no!” Sam runs one hand down his face, groaning loudly. “You got us in big trouble! My sister will murder you and me…maybe even all of us!”

Sam points at Sarah who already makes her way toward the other women in the room. Pepper’s head snaps toward Tony, and Natasha, well she opens her clutch to get a knife out.

“Oh-fuck! I won’t ever get laid ever again. Natasha will castrate all of us and make it look like an accident if she gets to know what you did,” Bucky almost whines when his wife and partner in crime stalks toward him.

Tony panics as his wife gets the gun she hides in her clutch out. “We are fucked guys,” he hiccups. “It seems like someone messed with Y/N!”

“It was him!” all men point at Steve. They take a step back and pray their wives won’t punish them for the shit Steve pulled. “We didn’t know.”

Clint starts sweating, he swallows audibly as his wife is ready to rip him a new one. “I swear, we didn’t have anything to do with this. Rumlow said that Steve got weaker and softer. He blamed Y/N for it.”

“Brock Rumlow is not one of us,” Natasha snaps at Clint. “What he says or does is of no interest to us. But—” she points her knife at Steve, “this bastard dared to hurt Y/N. So…we will hurt him.”

“Agreed,” Pepper smirks darkly. “Ladies…get him…”

“Do you remember when you married Y/N?” Natasha circles Steve like a lion waiting to pounce on their prey. “Didn’t she look beautiful in her wedding gown? All for you, you moron.”

“Yeah,” he splutters. “You have to understand, a man my stand can’t let a woman rule his life. I need to make sure no one damages my reputation. If not, people will think I'm easy prey. Just like my family and friends.”

“You’re not an easy target because your friends protect you,” Pepper snaps at Steve. “Because all of us are a family we protect each other. We welcomed Y/N into this family, and you hurt our sister.”

“Damn right,” Sarah slaps the back of Sam’s head. “Don’t you have anything to say to your friend, Sammy?”

“Steve…uh…maybe you should go home and fix things with Y/N?” Sam offers. “I bet she’s crying her eyes out right now.”

Tony rolls his eyes and groans loudly. “You’re not helpful at all, Wilson.”

“You may think you and your allies rule this world,” Natasha clicks her tongue. “You are dead wrong.” She sneers as Bucky, Steve, and Tony glare at her.

“We, the women behind all of you make sure no war breaks out. Do you know how often an afternoon tea with one of our enemies’ wives saved your ungrateful asses?”

Natasha slaps the back of Bucky’s head. “Because in the end, you are all just angry children trying to get a new toy. Rumlow’s fiancé will set him straight too. We called her, his mother, and every female family member we could reach.”

“Oh-uh…he’s fucked too,” Bucky chuckles. “At least he will go down with all of us.”

I’m going to experience a dry spell,” Tony sighs deeply. “Again…Thanks, Rogers. Thank you so very much for fucking with your wife.”

“You!” Sarah points at Steve. “You will go home and apologize to Y/N. If she sheds only one more tear because of you, you’re going to lose more than your reputation.”

“BALLS!” Pepper exclaims. “We will cut them off.”

“Along with your dick,” Natasha grunts. “Now, off and you better make things up to her.”

“Darling?” Steve silently tiptoes inside the mansion. He has a huge bouquet of roses in his arms. “Baby doll? Uh-I’m back home. Doll? Y/N?”

He sighs as you don’t run toward him. Usually, you would drop everything and run into his arms to pepper kisses all over his face. Or drop to your knees to get your hands on his dick. Depends on your mood.

“Sir, Mr. Rogers,” Peter, the youngest member of Steve’s organization stutters. “Mrs. Rogers retreated to one of the guest rooms.”

“What?”

“She said that you could have the bedroom and that you can visit her when you feel the need…” Peter’s face turns crimson as he must tell his boss about all the things you told him. “Marriage duties…uh…Sir…please don’t make me say it.”

“Fuck’s sake, Rumlow,” Steve grunts. He pushes the roses into Peter’s hands. “Put them in a vase and bring them to my wife. Tell her to come back to the bedroom.”

“Sir. I think…”

“I don’t pay you to think,” Steve yells now. “She will come back, or I’ll make her come back. It’s up to her.”

“Sir…I think you should…”

“One more word and you can look for a new job.”

Steve storms off. He’s fuming. There he was, believing you lie awake, waiting for him to come home and make things up to you. But no. You moved out of your shared room to be a brat…

“Mrs. Rogers, good morning,” one of the maids' chirps. “Do you want to make breakfast for Mr. Rogers again?” She smiles softly.

In silence, you pass your husband sitting at the kitchen counter without even looking at him.

“No. Someone thinks that I should stop trying to be a good wife. I’ll go for an apple. You can ask Mr. Rogers if he wants breakfast this morning.”

You open the fridge to get a bottle of water. Steve flinches as you slam the door shut. He watches you grab an apple and leave the kitchen before he can even say a single word.

“Sir, do you want breakfast?” the maid meekly asks. She doesn’t know what happened between you and your husband. But she knows it’s better to duck your head and stay out of Steve Rogers’ business.

“No. I’m already fed up,” he grunts and gets up from the stool, knocking it over. “Take the day off. All of you. I need some time with my wife…”

Steve enters the living room, huffing as you pump up the volume. Lily Ellen yells ‘Fuck you’ at him, and he makes a face.

“We need to talk.”

You ignore his presence, even shy away when he sits next to you on the sofa.

“Doll, look at me.”

You don’t look at him. It hurts too damn much to look at the man you believed is an angel when in reality he’s a cruel demon.

“I want to talk to my wife,” he groans as you shut off the TV and get up from the sofa. You don’t speak, or at least look at him.

He’s left behind with fond memories of the last time you watched a movie together. You were seated on his lap and played with his hair.

Steve tried to convince you to watch the movie but you crawled off his lap to open his fly. You got his dick out to play with little Steve while he struggled to focus on the movie.

He closes his eyes, basking in the memory of your pouty lips when you insisted on sucking his dick. Steve gave in. As so often. You only had to bat an eyelash and he caved in.

“Sir, Mr. Rogers," Peter pokes his head inside. He feels his cheeks heat up as Steve cups his crotch. “Do you want me to drive Mrs. Rogers?”

“Drive…what?” Steve realizes what he was doing and drops his hand from his crotch as he stares at Peter. “What are you talking about?”

“She said something about lawyers."

Steve hurriedly steps inside the guest room, watching you undress. “What are you doing? Doll, I tried to talk to you and now you are…”

“What the fuck? Can a woman not change clothes without you creeping on me?” you snap at Steve. “Get out!”

“You love it when I watch you undress.”

“I made you believe I do,” you chuckle darkly. “I’m damn skilled at faking things. Aren't I?" you ask as you glance at Steve. “All these times I pretended you made me cum or turned me on? I should get a fucking Oscar.”

“Doll, don’t go there,” he warns.

“I had to play with my toys before you came home to get wet for you. I never wanted to marry you. And I never had feelings for you.”

Steve knows you are lying. The way you tend to his wounds after a fight, gentle yet determined tells a different story. You always worried about him.

After a particularly hard day, or rather after you tended to a deep gash on his lower back you wouldn’t let him out of sight for a week. You clung to him like you were glued to his hips.

“Why not? All you want from me is a dripping hole, right?” you wrinkle your nose to push the tears away. “I’m nothing to you.”

He steps closer to you and places his hand on your shoulder. “Y/N, I’m sorry for the stupid things I said. You know that I only tried to protect my reputation.”

“I will go on a short vacation with Pepper, Sarah, Darcy, Natasha, and Okoye. If you need to get off in the meantime, use your hand, Steven. I think you’ll remember how to jerk off by the end of my vacation.”

“Vacation…what?”

He gasps when you shove his hand off your shoulder. “If you would excuse me now, I need to pack a few things for my little getaway…”

Steve watches you storm out of the guest room. He huffs and curses his damn pride. If only he didn’t listen to Brock Rumlow.

“I didn’t have sex for three weeks thanks to you, Steve!” Bucky complains loudly. “Natasha and I do it daily. Now. Nothing. Not even a handjob!”

Tony nods in agreement. “Same.”

“Don’t ask me,” Clint grumbles. “I will never see a boob in my life.”

“Our wives are officially on strike,” Tony buries his face in his hands. “Pepper said they won’t do shit for us, or with us if you don’t make things up to Y/N.”

“Do something, punk! I want to have sex in this decade again!” Bucky threatens. “If not, I’ll make your life living hell!”

“How? She refuses to talk to me, Buck! I tried to apologize, and she decided to go on vacation with your wife and the others. I tried,” Steve replies.

“Try harder then, punk.”

Steve gives his friend a stern look before deciding it’s time to get his wife back. He won’t back down now. “I’ll get my girl back. No matter what!”

“Steven Grant Rogers! Why are you here, in my room covered in blood?” you put your hands on your hips as you drink your husband’s appearance in. “Why are you hurt?”

His tie hangs losely around his neck. Someone ripped his shirt open. Steve’s hair is a mess, and his face had to endure a few punches at least.

“I got into a fight with security at the spa,” he huffs. “They are damn tough for security guards at a spa! I told them I want to see my wife.”

“Well, it’s their job to keep creeps out of here,” you sass. “I see now they did a poor job of keeping you out.”

“I’m not some creep, Y/N.”

He stuffs his hands in his pockets and gives you a puppy dog look. “I came here to apologize again. You know I didn’t mean a thing I said that night.”

“You sure about that? Because it sounded like you are damn serious to me that night,” you quip and turn your back on Steve. “Maybe you should file for divorce. A hooker is cheaper than a wife.”

“I was wrong,” he moves toward you. Steve sighs as you shy away again. “One thing wasn’t a lie.”

You sniff, ready for another blow.

“You are all I need," he says as he wraps his arms around your waistline. “I would’ve helped your father a thousand times to get you, doll. You know that. Deep inside your fractured heart, you know that I love you.”

“I’m not sure about it.”

“How about I reassure you that I love you, Y/N?” he offers. “I’ll take a whole month off and we will fly to Paris just like you always wanted.”

“I’ll consider your suggestion,” you won’t give in so easily. Steve hurt you deeply. Even worse. He made you feel unwanted, unloved, and worthless. “For now, all I can offer is to fix the mess you call your face.”

He grins. “That’s a start…”

>> Part 2

Tags in reblog.

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #mobster!steve rogers x fem!reader #mobster!steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #mafia au

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wood-white-writer · 5 months

Text

“Didn’t mean to make your heart Blue” || [9/…]

— OPLA!Buggy x F!Reader

“And I know no one will save me, I just need someone to kiss.

Give me one good honest kiss and I’ll be alright.”

— Mitski, “Nobody”

Pairing: Buggy the Clown (Live Action) x F!Reader

Summary: You were an apprentice of Gol D. Roger’s crew in your youth, long before his eventual demise. Along with the Red-Haired Shanks and Buggy, you were a formidable trio; the embodiment of a new generation of pirates yet to come. But times changed, and so did you and your friends. In which there is lost affections, mentions of the past, and re-bonding over a bath. Unshared thoughts and feelings of regret return from years of negligence, and whereas some aspects remain buried, others have a chance to resurface from the depths.

Warnings: fem!reader, LA!Verse, slight canon divergence, morally grey reader, mentions of violence and blood, dual-pov (though primarily Buggy's), Buggy being a simp, implications of Buggy being a horny simp

A/N: AND HERE WE ARE! FINALLY, AFTER SO MANY WEEKS, THE NEW CHAPTER IS UP! Seriously, I want to thank you all for your immense patience and support. As I mentioned in a previous post, work has been hectic as hell and I know I wrote that this chapter would hopefully be finished last week, but life took its toll. Hopefully, you'll enjoy this chapter, though I myself have mixed feelings about it.

INCLUDES SOME SELF-MADE SKETCHES AT THE BOTTOM, so you’re warned

The sun warms your face as you breathe in the fresh scent of the sea. You’re lounging on deck, hands folded behind your head and feet hanging over the railings in a rather peculiar position, but you’re perfectly content.

Luffy benched you for the rest of the voyage to Arlong Park, a decision you initially found insulting to no short degree. Well, maybe benched is not the right term to use, but more like “I don’t want you to die, and I think you need to relax this once”.

You had argued that no, you’re fine and the love bites Arlong left you are nothing compared to the marks Mihawk left on Zoro, and he’s still up and about as usual.

But Luffy is firm about his decision, and what the Captain says goes.

So, here you are, enjoying some quiet all while letting your wounds heal, and it seems that nothing can hope to put an end to this ambiance that is—

“HEY! THERE ‘YA ARE!”

…. You spoke too soon. Way too soon.

A shadow falls over your face like a curtain and blocks the view of the sun. A shadow belonging to - you make a lucky guess - a severed head that’s been talking for way longer than a severed head typically should, in your experience.

You open one lazy eye to pinpoint the exact perpetrator and see a bright red dot staring down at you from Usopp’s grip.

Buggy winks at you, making those mildly irritating clink-clink noises.

“I can’t stand it anymore,” Usopp grumbles. “You take him! He’s annoying and keeps telling me my nose is too long!”

“Because it is, you shidiot!”

“It’s average!”

“That’s what your mom said!”

“You keep my mom’s name out of your mouth, you psychotic, fucking—!”

“Be quiet.”

Both the clown and the slingshot simultaneously shut their mouths before things have a chance to escalate on a non-verbal scale, and you take this as a sign that your break is officially over and buried ten feet under.

Stretching your arms out loud enough to pop a few vertebrae, you shift to lean your back against the railing and give both boys an unimpressed look-over, like a disappointed mother having caught both of her children in the act of something. “It’s too early for you to be making a ruckus.”

“It’s 11 am,” Usopp points out.

“Still too early.” Deciding that you’d rather not deal with this with more effort than you’re willing to spend, you return to your previous position. “Leave the head, or don’t. Just let me rest.”

“Fine by me.”

With a thud and an “OW FUCK!”, Usopp unceremoniously drops the clown and forgoes his Buggy-sitting duties to do whatever he wants to do, leaving you to pick up the slack.

A string of curses flow from Buggy’s mouth, which you only vaguely pay attention to. There was something along the lines of “Long-nosed asshat,” and “Right on the nose”, but you abandon all interest in favor of feeling the sun on your cheek.

“So…” you hear him jump a little closer. “Alone at last.”

You don’t answer.

“What? Don’t give me that! I thought we were good!”

You remain selectively mute.

“Hey! Don’t ignore me! I don’t like it!”

“You survived it for twenty years. I’m sure you can stand it for a few more minutes.”

“…. Seriously?”

“Mhmm.”

You don’t know what possesses him, but he keeps quiet for most of the next thirty minutes, and you take the time to continue basking in the sun.

It’s a luxury you can rarely afford, and you’ll be damned if it gets ruined now or all time, least of all by him. You’re not going to even open the can of worms that is last night’s events, so you lock it in a chest to be dug up for another day.

Not now. It won't be that long until you reach Arlong Park, and shit will go down. This might be the only chance you get to replenish your strength and gods do you need it now more than ever.

"… Hey?” Buggy starts.

You let him decide whether to perceive your silence as an opening or a locked door.

“I’m bored.”

“Tough.”

“Can’t we do something else?”

“We could fish. Your head might serve as a good bait.” Despite yourself, your lip tugs a little in what is supposed to be a halfway smirk. The image of Buggy dangling above the shark-infested waters from a hook to his bandana would be an entertaining sight to behold.

He swallows audibly. “Was that a joke?”

“Keep bothering me and we’ll find out soon enough.”

“C’mon! Don’t be like that! Seriously, I’m bored! Ain’t much you can do when you’re just a head… except to give one, but that’s beside the point.”

Too much detailing, you think. He wants entertainment of any kind; you want peace and quiet. What to do and how to kill two birds with one stone? You open one eye and let it drift over to Buggy, who in turn is staring intently at you.

In the sun, you make out every detail of his rugged face. His make-up’s almost wiped completely off the skin, with only remnants of the red lipstick and blue diamonds vaguely in place. His stubbles have grown slightly, given the lack of access to a barber, and if you get close enough, he probably stinks of—

A lightbulb goes off in your head. A devious one, blinking to every corner of your brain.

Despite what anyone thinks, you’re not above being petty.

With a push, you sit up and glance over at him. “Anything?”

Buggy raises his eyebrows and nods desperately. “Yeah! Anything! As long as I ain’t got to sit here doing naught-shit, I’m game!”

You turn to him, put each of your hands to the edges of his jaw, and lift him a little closer to you. Whether from the sun or just him alone, he’s warm and soft under your digits.

“Alright,” is all you say.

Buggy beams much like the bulb in your head, and a loud bark of laughter erupts from his mouth. You almost pity him, pity him for being oblivious to what’s to come.

But it needs to be done.

There’s no other way around it and he’s had it coming. He deserves this, you tell yourself. He deserves every inch of ruthlessness you can offer, and you’ll deliver.

————

Buggy blanches, lips wobbling in horror as he slowly glances up at you. Betrayal fills his bright-blue eyes and, for the first time since Orange Town, he sees you as the beast you both know you are.

He’s afraid.

He’s afraid of you.

He knows you can be vindictive; he knows you can be brutal, but in all the time he’s known you, he’s never perceived you as cruel.

Maybe it’s time for him to reassess that thought.

“No,” he whispers softly. “No, please.”

Your face is blank, and cold, and he doesn’t know if it’s a trick of the light or not, but there’s a shadow across your face that darkens everything but your eyes. Those bright eyes he used to hold in such high regard.

“You want my forgiveness,” you state calmly as you gradually lower him to his demise. “You have to earn it.

“Please, anything but this. I’ll do anything other than this!”

But his pleas earn no mercy from you. He wiggles in your grasp like a fish out of water, and as much as he tries to beg and move and free himself, your hold is iron incarnate.

Buggy lets out an ear-curdling scream the moment he feels the water under his neck.

“NOOOOO!”

————

Honestly, how childish, you think as you begin to soak him in the basin you procured from the kitchens. He hisses like a cat as you pour the water over his head, rinsing his hair. Try as he might, he cannot escape your grasp.

It’s not even deep enough to reach his chin, and still, he acts like it’s acid he’s been thrown into.

But you’re determined, this has to be done.

“Oh, quit whining” you chastise, getting drops of water your way with all his scuttling. “You need this.”

“You’re gonna drown me!” he accuses.

“It’s soap and water, and it’s not even that deep.”

“You say that now, sure! But the moment you let go, plop! Oh, there goes Buggy the Clown! Taken from this world too early!”

You roll your eyes. “I’m holding you up, you’re not going to drown. Now, stop acting like a child.”

Buggy is restless and continues to thrash around for a good ten seconds more before finally relenting, a look of sour disapproval on his face. It’s so caricatured and animated that it threatens to make a suppressed chuckle leave your throat.

He still looks the same when he’s mad.

Now that he’s finally calm, you lower him so that the edge of his neck finally stands on the bottom of the basin. Then, you soak a rag and raise it towards his face.

Buggy flinches. “Can you …. Eh… leave the face?”

“There’s hardly anything there anymore, and it’ll irritate your skin if you leave it on for too long.”

“I think I can tell you what irritates me or not, like this bird bath for instance, thank you very much.” He scowls and edges further away from the wet rag. “Seriously, just leave it.”

“I’ll reapply the make-up.”

“… What?”

When you first boarded the Merry, you happened to find some leftover make-up hidden away in one of the shelves. It was strange, considering how the boat was freshly built, and imagined that one of the builders had taken some personal liberty in the large space before the project was finished.

For whatever reason, you didn’t throw it out, though you didn’t use it yourself.

If it can get him to accept the fact that he needs a wash, you’re willing to do it.

“I’ll put on your make-up if I can wash off what you currently have,” you clarify. “Deal?”

Buggy goes quiet, and his eyes widen slightly, but not out of horror or dread. It’s more like … when you catch the sight of something unexpected; a delayed reaction that stirs feelings you have yet to decipher.

Finally, after some internal debates with himself, Buggy nods. “Fuckin’ fine then,” he utters, and despite the crudeness of his words, they’re lenient.

Content, you gently place your free hand to his left to keep him stable and use the other one to carefully drag the rag across his stained cheek.

Buggy watches you intently through the process, never taking his eyes off you unless you’re wiping off the painted diamonds on his eyes. Your hands, for once, are soft to the touch. They’re soft for him, as though a single misplaced touch might shatter him like glass.

He used to be acquainted with the soft touches long before the cold and brutal ones. Soft fingers that pinched his cheeks as you helped apply the paint over his face.

Soft touches against his arm when he was feeling particular for some reason, whether it was good or bad.

Your fingers intertwined with his’ as you came to terms with your captain’s death, sitting by the edge of the docks as the rain poured from above. It was cold, he was freezing, and too close to the waters for his comfort, but he wanted nothing more than to sit in the rain with you and share the heat from your fingers.

Even after everything, you’re still capable of reserving those touches for him.

After wiping the makeup completely off him, you raise the cup and fill it with water. “Close your eyes.”

He doesn’t want to, but he does and feels the water rushing down like the rain on those docks.

When he’s finally finished, you fish him up from the basin and put him down atop a soft towel on the table. Like a cat, he instinctively shakes off the residue of water, only to find you already raising a new towel towards him.

He stops moving, and you takes this as your cue to continue. You’re attentive, he notices. You wipe his face first, then his ears, then his hair. You dry it and scratch his scalp at the same time through the fabric, and he instinctively leans against your touch.

This is … nice.

“When did you cut your hair?” You ask out of the blue as you continue to dry him, making sure to leave no spot too humid.

He almost failed to catch onto your words with how at ease he is. “Hmmm?”

“You used to have long hair before,” you elaborate. “Why did you cut it?”

“…. Too much of a hassle to maintain,” he answers after some thought. “It’s hard to find the time to take care of it.”

“… I see.”

The truth is, he cut it right after he left. Not particularly clean either. You know that feeling you get when you feel like you’re losing control, and ridding yourself of any additional weight seems to relieve it?

Well, that’s what Buggy did.

He cut it with a pair of rusty scissors, severing chunks at a time — some bigger than others — until all he was left with was pieces sticking out to each side like a madman.

It didn’t help though. It didn’t make him feel any lighter from the weight on his chest. From that gnawing feeling.

Still, he maintained the habit and got better with practice. It became more of a practical thing with time; he was a busy man, and he could do well with fewer things to get in his eyes, but it never eased the pain.

But feeling the tips of your fingers lightly graze his hair, however, he feels more relieved than he’s done in the last twenty years.

After a few minutes, you remove the towel and give him a neutral one-over. It’s the first time you’ve seen him as an adult without any of that makeup, and you’re reminded of just how much he’s changed, but also how he’s not.

Even after all this time, it’s still Buggy.

Buggy sees you watching him, and he can’t help but feel slightly self-conscious now that your eyes are on him without his usual armor.

But you don’t comment on it, nor show any surprise in any sense of the word. There are times when he hates your face, not because of anything superficial, but because you make it so damn challenging for him to figure out what goes in that brain of yours. He’s reminded of how you were when you were younger, how lifeless you used to be, and it feels like you’ve regressed to that state.

Another thing to add to the shitlist of things he’s regretful about.

He licks his lips and opens his mouth to say something when the door suddenly bursts open. Buggy jumps whereas you merely look over your shoulder to spot Zoro standing there, his eyes narrowed between you and the clown.

Buggy frowns.

“Zoro,” you speak plainly, as if you failed to notice his annoyance towards the spectacle presented before him. “Is there anything?”

“The hell is this?” His eyes flicker between you and Buggy like it’s the worst show on earth. “What’s going on?”

“He reeked,” you explain. “I have merely been rectifying it for the sake of our noses.”

Buggy wants to argue with the statement that No, he fucking doesn’t, but he suppresses it for the sake of figuring out where this conversation’s headed.

“Since when do we make it a habit of bathing prisoners?” Zoro asks, his hand resting on the handle of his sword.

“Since when have we had prisoners?” You counter.

The swordsman scoffs. “The clown’s needed upstairs in ten.”

“Sure.”

“I’m right here, you know?”

Zoro gives him a nasty look and nothing more before heading back out the door, shutting it with a forceful thud.

“Why do you even stick around with these nobodies?!” Buggy questions. “They can’t navigate for shit, they have no sense of preservation, and they suck at fighting!”

You shift back to raise a knowing eyebrow at him. “They defeated you, didn’t they?”

“That’s—! … I was outnumbered, it wasn’t a fair fight!”

“No fights are fair in the life of piracy,” you point out.

He bites the inside of his cheek. “All I’m saying is, you’re too powerful to be with these losers. You could join my crew! Think about it! We’d be unstoppable!”

“You mean, join the same people who locked me up and whose asses I subsequently kicked?”

“Exactly! Don’t worry, they’ll get over it! Once they see how awesome you are, they’ll accept you with open ar—!”

“I decline.”

Buggy pauses, his enthusiasm promptly vanishing and getting replaced with bitter disappointment. “You’re not even going to consider it?”

“Why would I?” You wipe away a descending drop from his right eye. “I have no interest in joining another crew.”

“You say that, and yet here you are with these losers.”

“I was never going to stay permanently.”

He pauses. “You weren’t?”

“I’m here for Luffy, and once I’ve decided that he can hold his own weight above the waters, I’ll leave.”

“… Where will you go? After, then?”

It takes you a moment to answer, like you don’t know the answer yourself quite yet. Your hand stills for a moment before resuming with the task at hand.

“Who knows?” You shrug. “The sea is my home. I’ve missed it, so I will remain where the waves pull me.”

That won’t do on its own. Stay with me. Buggy wants to ask, and if he had knees, he’d ask on them. Come with me. Be with me. You won’t have to be an official member of his crew; you don’t have to bend to him. You just have to stay.

Stay with him.

That’s all he’ll ask.

Stay with him until he has the opportunity to figure out a way to make it up to you.

Stay with him so he can compensate for the twenty years you suffered in each other’s absences.

Just stay.

“Hey.” He’s surprised by his own initiative. “Why’d you even leave your crew and stick your feet on land if you love the sea so much?”

You raise an eyebrow in question.

“I mean, you were Captain of the Cross-Haired Pirates, for crying out loud! You used to be legendary!” He proclaims, almost saddened by your apparent dismissal of your previous title. “You had fame, berries, a reputation that preceded everyone! Everyone feared you! Why’d you ditch all of that? Because of that rubbery prick? Because of Shanks?”

“Is that really what you want to ask me?”

“Yeah!”

You sigh through your nose and put the towel down to recline in your chair. “I didn’t become a Captain because that’s what I wanted. I became a Captain because it provided an outlet.”

“An outlet? For fucking what?”

It takes you a few seconds to finally reach a suitable response.

“Anger,” you admit calmly, your arms crossing over your chest as the words stir on your tongue. They must taste bitter. “I was angry, and it festered every day, churning into a poisonous substance in my body. Being a captain with a crew, I could take it out on whoever I wanted. Pirate, marine, unruly crew member, it didn’t matter. Nothing else mattered.”

It makes sense now, he thinks, the reputation you’ve garnered over the years. Beware the Beast in the East, people would chant in passing towns and harbors, like you were a ghost story. Her eyes were like swords, and her hands were twice as sharp.

There wasn’t a single place where blood didn’t paint your steps.

He never met you while you were a captain; he didn’t want to, couldn’t find it in himself to pop by even once. Still, he kept your poster hidden in the dark depths of the chest in his quarters, if only for acrimonious reminiscence. He would spend some drunken nights doing nothing but staring at it, and it was like he could feel your rage seep through the ink on the page and scorch his fingers. A reminder of what he did.

Now, looking at you and comparing you to the poster, he fails to see the resemblance. He doubts he could’ve spotted it had you reunited earlier on. Captain Cross-Hairs was sharp around the edges, with pecks of blood on her cheeks and fresh scars on her face.

He licks his lips in deliberation. “You were pissed… because of what?”

Because of me?

“I don’t know.” He watches your chest expand with your breath, mesmerized simply by watching you commit to living. There used to be a time when you didn’t. “I didn’t care about money or power. I didn’t care for much of anything, except to purge that rage from my body. I fought, and I killed. It helped, for a time; I felt satisfied, but after a while, you grow bored of eating the same meal.”

When he looked at you when you were younger, he imagined he saw the scorching sun. Burning and bright and enlightening.

You were … everything, but he never imagined that the same fire that used to mesmerize him would burn a thousand ships in his absence.

But he was a boy back then. He’s older now, more experienced in the ways of life, he knows better.

He knows enough.

"But the boy," you say with a certain gentleness in your voice that does not evade his notice. "He's good."

"He's weak," Buggy scoffs, feeling his belly fill with sour smoke. He recognizes the feeling. It's the feeling he got when he watched Shanks talk to you that night by the fire. The same feeling he got when he watched you stay with Shanks that day.

"He's defeated every opponent he's come across."

"Didn't beat Arlong, though." Buggy points out with a smidgen of childish pride and smirks. "Got his ass handed to him real good if I remember correctly."

You look back at him in that narrow way you usually reserve for him when he's crossed a line, and he can already tell he fucked up.

"I watched him grow, Buggy.” You say firmly. “I was there for all of it. I watched him learn, I watched him fight, I watched him leave land. He’s not like us — he doesn’t waste time on regret. He’ll become better than we ever were.”

Buggy glowers but doesn’t say anything else, insisting on letting your words simmer in his brain until he can find the will to let them go.

You procure something from the drawers and it’s only when he looks down that he realizes it’s the make-up. With gentle hands, you lift him and place him in your lap, the brush already blue and ready.

“I’m not here to talk about what used to be,” you say. “Now hold still.”

The diamonds across his eyes come first, the brushing makes his face tickle and it’s only by sheer willpower alone that he manages to refrain from staring at you.

“Takes us back,” he whispers and closes his eyes so that you can finish. “Doesn’t it?”

He hears something akin to a chortle that doesn’t quite reach your throat, but he considers it a small win.

“You looked a mess,” you answer. “A child could’ve done a better job than I did.”

“Wasn’t bad for your first try, though.”

Except that it was. It was pretty bad. Your hands were shaking, and you held your breath like you were afraid of making a mistake. By the time you were finished, he looked like a canvas painted by a child, but he didn’t have the heart to tell you that.

He used to think that it was strange. You were skilled at nearly everything you committed yourself to, without even trying.

When he thinks back on it, maybe it wasn’t skill; maybe it was just an ingrained fear of failure that drove you to become the best at what you did.

Then again, your worst could never be the worst in his eyes.

You finish his eyes, and when he looks up at you, he sees the same determination and focus in your eyes as he did that day. It’s the same look you have when you’re targeting something, be it an enemy or a point of interest. It’s always the same.

And he can’t look away.

You move onto the crossbones next, and he’s happy he won’t have to close his eyes for this one. He’s not certain you can pull off his iconic look, but he’ll give you the benefit of the doubt for now.

After all, you strive for perfection. He doubts this will be an exception.

Get it? Perfection and except— You know what? Nevermind.

He can feel your attention in every stroke of the brush, feel the white paint glisten on his skin before it dries. Your warmth lingers like burning embers, he feels like getting too close will burn him, yet he wants nothing more than blisters upon his skin.

He looks at you, looks into your focused eyes, and he feels … something tightening, back where his body is. It could be his stomach, his head… other places, but he can’t tell. Arlong’s been busy abusing his body long enough that he can’t differentiate between a kick or a punch anymore.

But this isn’t Arlong.

It’s you.

He can handle a tight body if it’s because of you.

When he was young, and his body began to work in the way of a man, he would sometimes wake up and feel sweaty and … stiff. He knew enough to know what it was, to know what caused it, but he didn’t know how to approach the situation.

He knew the source of his frustrations. He knew how to alleviate them, but he didn’t. He respected you far too much to ever dare cross the threshold. He figured that simply talking to you, simply holding your hand, and being at your side would be enough. He would be content with just that.

But he watched you … develop. It didn’t seem like such a big deal at the time, but he couldn’t help but marvel at the sight. He imagined feeling your flesh under his digits. The softness across your chest and hips. The warm skin.

He looks at you now, sees the scars peeking from under your shirt, on your face, and he wants to feel the rough edges.

Buggy gulps and he’s rather happy now that the rest of his body is not attached to him. He’s lost enough dignity as it is.

“And now, the mouth.”

Yes, he wants to touch that t—

You take the lipstick, and in a straight line, smear it across his mouth in a way that snaps him out of his thoughts. He can feel the warmth emitting from your thumb as you finish his face, and it takes him half a mind not to—

“Done.”

Disappointment lingers in the clown’s visage, and even when you present him a mirror and see the identical likeness to his wanted posters, it does not alleviate the feeling. For what it's worth, he's impressed with how far your make-up-applying skills have reached since last time.

It's perfect.

But it means you’re done, and the nobodies require his flashy expertise to get Miss Ginger back.

You dump the discolored water out and put the rest of the equipment away, and he feels his head weigh another ten pounds at so. He somewhat hopes it would; maybe it would be heavy enough that you wouldn’t bother carrying him up the deck?

… Oh, who is he kidding? It’s you. You won’t have any trouble in that department even if he were to weigh as much as a boulder. Ten boulders, even.

To his surprise, instead of reaching for him, you lounge back into your seat and nonchalantly cross your arms and ankles. He’s confused. Weren’t you going to go up with him already?

“If Zoro needs you, he can get you himself.”

That’s what you’ll leave it be like. He, freshly washed, dried, and painted. You, just casually sitting like you have no urgency to get back to the world.

“He’ll be pissed at you,” Buggy warns. “And probably threaten to throw you into the sea.”

You shrug, your eyes already closed, giving him no indication whatsoever that you’re particularly concerned with the veryscary swordsman. He grins with all his teeth on show.

Unfortunately, the green-haired asshole turns up not even five minutes later. All but ripping the clown by the roots of his hair and taking him away like a sack of flour. Buggy spews curses and threats, but they all fall on deaf ears.

It’s only when he’s positioned on deck that he’s finally free of his torment, if only for an hour or two. He begrudgingly instructs the long-nosed slingshot where to sail, adding a few creative insults along the way. Hey, it’s not Buggy’s fault they’re too easy to rile up.

“Is that long nose compensating for something?”

To which he earned a slap to the back of his head. From whom, he doesn’t know, but he’ll take his victories in whatever light weight they come in.

After a while, he shifts his head to eject another insult to the slingshot when he sees that you’re standing a few feet away, your arms crossed while leaning against the railing; eyes closed but face focused and attentive.

He cuts his verbal daggers down a notch.

It gets late, the sky darkens, and one after another, the crew members resign to their chambers save for the slingshot, who still insists on going for a while longer. Him, and you, surprisingly enough.

You stay, for all of it; neither complaining nor muttering a sound.

You're stoically positioned on the sidelines, hardly moving at all. He would've died if he'd been standing in the same position for more than one hour, but you endured a total of six without a shiver or a strain. Like a soldier in the rain. A monk in a temple of thorns.

A beast in an empty forest, lonesome in its hunger, yet content with what content remains buried in its stomach for the time being.

Long-nosed slingshot finally calls it a night and withdraws from the steering wheel with his hands outreached for the head. Before his dirty fingers can hope to graze the magnificent head that is Buggy's, you stretch your arm out like a shield between them.

"I'll take him."

Slingshot snorts. "Really? You want to?"

"Do you want to?"

With his hands raised in mock surrender, Slingshot relents. "... Fine, be my guest."

With a nod, you take the head and retire back to your chamber on the ship. Buggy yawns in your arms, tired, but satisfied with the warmth embracing him. Your steps feel like waves with each one you take, nudging him further and further toward the edge of sleep. Only unadulterated stubbornness keeps him awake.

It darkens for a moment. When he rouses back, he feels softness underneath him. A pillow of sorts, not comforting enough to offer him sleep, but enough to keep him relaxed.

He nudges around, like a fish in a small bowl, only to find that he's not on the table, nor in a barrel, nor a bag. The surface beneath him is made of fabric, and swings with his movements.

He's in a hammock.

More precisely, your hammock.

“Sleep.” He hears your command.

He finally locates you, seated by the window of your cabin with your palm under your chin, staring out into the darkened ocean.

He turns, voice diluted with drowsiness. “You too…”

“Soon.”

“Now," he almost whines.

The look you give him is not any different from the kind you usually provide, but it lacks the usual undertone of annoyance. He can tell you're tired, even if you're refusing to show it. The shadows under your eyes stand out more prominently, even in the dimmed candlelight.

With an inaudible sigh, you stand and while he expects you to move towards the hammock, he's disappointed to see you aiming towards the door instead.

"H-Hey, where are you going?"

"The kitchens," you respond. "You can sleep here for the night; I'll take the couch."

"That's not necessary!" He wiggles so that he can look at you from over the edge of the hammock, careful as not to fall from the height. A thought dawns over him, one that makes his cheeks feel warm. "We- We can share! I don't take a lot of space!"

"You still take up too much of it."

"Are you calling me fat?!"

He's almost insulted when you don't answer to contradict his assumption, yet despite the innate urge to defend his honor and spew shit at you, he decides to let it slide.

"C'mon! I promise I'll behave," he tries again. "You'll hardly notice me. Those couches suck balls anyway, so why not?"

He watches you give it some thought for probably a good two minutes. He expects you'll decline his proposition, finding that your own pride weighs more than the need for decent sleep.

Then, you lower your shoulders in defeat and make your way over to the hammock. "Scoot over."

He obliges rather excitedly, and when he wiggles back a bit too much to make space, he can feel gravity threaten to drop him on the other side of the hammock. Before it gets to that point, you grab him by the side of his face and hold him until you can lift yourself and lay down.

Only then do you lay him down, on the right side of your abdomen. He's mindful of the wounds that have yet to heal there, so he tries not to invade too much. Still, he can't deny, he's quite comfortable. Very comfortable.

He's the most comfortable he's been in a long time - twenty years.

He surpasses the urge to push closer to you, share your warmth, and elects to look up at the ceiling instead.

"Hope you don't snore," he jokes, only to have a yawn follow promptly behind.

"I don't snore," you answer, deadpan. "Now go to sleep."

He's not convinced, but he doesn't comment on it. This peace hangs by a thread, and he'll be damned if it's cut short now of all times. He shuts his eyes, and in his dreams, he's presented with the sun on the blue skies above.

He feels warm all over.

----

Taglist: @kurinhimenezu, @carpinchootaku, @ay0nha, @teh-vampire-bunny, @lokiscure, @internationalsuper-spy, @detectivesparrow , @yuriwk , @notyuralycat, @angeli-fucking-cat, @machinema7k , @shuujin, @avatar-lover, @gingernut1314, @autumn-slaves. @marvelouskatie, @floristoflillys, @dizzyenby, @redpool, @deliri-yum22, @aemondsb1tch, @ackroxia, @gayandfairycore, @knightsfavoriteprincess, @asterizee, @aamethyst23, @lizzie1107, @cyberwears, @heylookliisten, @f41k47, @beep-beep1, @crimsonflameproxy, @unpopular-sober-thoughts, @rayleeya, @timeladyrikaofgallifrey, @fanshavegottensotoxic, @fluffybunnyu, @sirenmelody23

(If you want to be tagged for this story, just send me a message or leave a comment :))

(Additionally, some sketches of how I imagine Cross-Hairs to look like while I’m writing.)

#buggy the clown #buggy x reader #one piece live action #buggy the clown x reader #one piece #one piece x reader #buggy one piece #buggy x you #buggy the clown fanfiction #buggy x female reader #DMTMYHB #didn’t mean to make your heart blue

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bookishtheaterlover7 · 2 months

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a/n: Hello, my fabulous Readers! It's been a hot second since I last wrote a fic. And I can honestly say, that I've been distracted by the whole Chris Drama and Fiasco. But that doesn't mean that I haven't been writing fics. I actually have a few lined up, that are definite WIPs, so stay tuned. In the meantime, I hope y'all will enjoy this fic.

Which I'm happy to dedicate to @cutedisneygrl, Happiest Birthday to you, girl! Thank you for always lending an ear, and also happily sharing your fics with us. You're awesome, and I hope you enjoy this fic. Sorry if it's a little late.

And to @royalwriteroftheuniverse, for being one of the best friends, I could ask for on here. You're one of the best, and honestly, you both deserve the best. ❤❤❤❤❤

Yes, this will be a thing now. Some of my fics will be dedicated to my friends, family, or even the fans like me, who are writing this. 😆🥺 So, without further ado, enjoy this fic. Hopefully it isn't too cringey.

Steve Rogers x civilian!Reader

Requested: Yes

WARNINGS: None really... No mention of Y/n, Steve is a big softie, Y/n is kind of sad for most of the fic, food(?), feelings of loneliness...

Enjoy!

I'm using this gif, because it's the one with my most favorite button-up, that Steve wears in the entire MCU. Feel free to comment what's your most favorite Steve casual wear in the entire MCU.

*Y/F/C/D = Your Favorite Cold Drink

The clock continued to tic the hours away, as you laid on your bed. Trying to will it to move faster, and end the long day. Time always seemed slow during the tough days. Even longer lately, what with Steve being out on seemingly endless weeks of missions.

You really couldn’t complain, considering that that is his job. And it was all for the good of the future. Your future, together. Steve has been open about building a safe and happy future. And being able to secure it, one bad guy at a time.

You chuckle at the thought. Remembering the night Steve said those very words to you...

You had called an hour before, needing to vent. Your work day was one of the worst you’ve had in a while, and Steve, hearing the frustration, and weariness in your voice, took it upon himself to try and make it better. He arranged the pillows to frame your bed, pulled the curtains closed, put the lamp on its dimmest setting, grabbed the comfiest blankets, and made a little love nest for you two love birds.

He nervously looked over every little detail. Fluffing up the pillows, smoothing down the bed sheets, pulling at the curtains, double and triple checking everything. Luckily, you announcing your arrival, broke his intense focus.

Steve rushed off. Tripping and stumbling on his own feet, regaining balance, and taking another look around, before stumbling once more, and finally hopping down to you. Not that you were having any of it. Immediately assuming that Steve had prepared something romantically sexy. Which, in Steve’s opinion, was sweet but nothing romantically sexy about his plans.

But at Steve’s insistence, and puppy dog eyes, you were, albeit begrudgingly on your part, lead upstairs to your converted room.

“You sounded so sad on the phone earlier, I wanted to do something special. Try and make your day a little bit better.”

You smiled as tears slowly filled your eyes. Jumping into Steve’s arms, as he picks you up, and puts you on the bed, to rid you of your work clothes. Slipping you into your favorite button-up of his.

You’d stay in the love nest for hours. Snuggled into the love of your life, except for the few times, he’d get up to get food and water. Insisting that he should get them, not wanting you to get up and leave your little bubble.

Few minutes into your meal of a shared bowl of chocolate covered fruits, Steve’s phone rang. Causing him to step out, to answer it. Not coming back until a few minutes later. His expression crestfallen, but trying his best to keep up a mask of happiness so as to not drag your already down mood. Ofcouse,you knew him well.

“They’re calling you away on another mission?” You asked, after a few minutes of silence.

“Yes. But it’s a necessary evil, if I want to build our future.” Steve sighed, giving you a weary smile.

“And I do want to build it, one bad guy at a time.” He continued, taking both of your hands in his.

“Are you proposing to me right now, Rogers?” You laughed.

“Believe me, Doll. When I propose, you’ll know...” Steve smiled.

“Well, until then, I’ll take a few of your shirts. But even after you ask, you might never get them back.” You declared teasingly, grabbing a strawberry and running off, as Steve gave chase.

You sigh and get up out of bed, deciding to go down to your living room to watch a rom-com with your over-sized stuffed bear. But not before grabbing your favorite button-up shirt, that Steve left at the foot of your bed just before he drove off to the compound for his mission, a few days ago. You pressed it to your nose, inhaling the comforting scent of aftershave and wood, something that was uniquely Steve. And changed into it, buttoning up most of it, and leaving some undone.

You made your way down the stairs and into your kitchen, grabbing some leftovers stored in tupperwares, in your fridge, and preparing to heat them in your microwave. You stepped into your living room, turning on the TV. and arranging the throw pillows, blanket, and your bear, so that your couch has prime comfiness, all before the microwave dinged to signal that your dinner is warm.

You quickly grabbed it, utensils, and Y/F/C/D from the kitchen, carefully carrying them in your arms, and using your elbow to turn off the light in your kitchen. Leaving your living room lamp, and your TV as your only remaining light source. Creating some sort of ambiance that allowed for optimal comfort once you wrapped your shoulders in your blanket, placed your bear on your lap, and pressed play on your movie, before grabbing your food and settling in for the night.

A few hours later, the roar of a Harley can be heard in the distance. A bit toned down, due to Steve knowing that most, if not all of the residents of his neighborhood were soundly and safely tucked in their beds.

The mission was shorter than expected, and for that he silently thanked God. Because he was able to come home to the woman he loved sooner than anticipated, and will be able to surprise her with the best gift he could ever give her. Him.

He shut off the engine, as soon as he arrived and parked on the driveway. Removing his helmet, grabbing his things that he had strapped to the back of his motorcycle, and grabbing his keys to unlock the front door.

The first thing he noticed was the TV was on (hard not to when he noticed the dim glow coming from the living room). The one thing he didn’t expect as he was reaching for the remote was the sight of you holding your bear, the very over-sized bear that he had won for you at the Fair last month, close to you, one of your cozy blankets draped over your shoulders, and the collar of his button-up peaking from under the blanket.

He chuckled at the adorable sight, but sighed softly. Knowing you well enough, that you had a rough day, just by needing any semblance of him near, and needing every aspect of your cozy cocoon in order to feel better. He knew what was needed, and it was something he definitely needed for himself too.

And so, he put his bag and shield down to the side of the recliner to the right of the TV, out of the way, so that none of you would trip on it the next morning. Removed his leather jacket, and placed it on the arm of the couch by your feet, before kneeling down by you, to get on the proper position to be able to pick you up, and carry you bridal style. Hopefully without fully rousing you from your sleep.

You were half awake as Steve slowly made his way up the stairs, to your shared room. The blanket still wrapped around your body, essentially wrapping you up in a burrito. You felt the need to find more warmth and comfort from the solid wall of muscle that you were resting against. And so snuggled needily into it, much to Steve’s amusement.

And that is why he decided to remove his shoes, before going into bed with you a minute later. Not wanting you to spend even a minute without your human teddy bear. He could change and take a shower in the morning, he just knew you both needed the other near.

“I’ve got you, Doll... And I’m not going anywhere...”

a/n: Hope y'all enjoyed it. I'm kind of nervous uploading this, and I'm also worried that it's cringey. Love y'all, Bookies! Stay sane, especially with things coming up in the Fandom soon.

Steve Rogers Masterlist

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#chris evans #chris evans fandom #chris evans imagines #chris evans x reader #chris evans characters #chris evans fanfiction #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers imagine #booky's written works #To the N🫶nnie that sent this ask months ago #sorry that this took so long I hope you like it...

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romanestuffsposts · 7 months

Note

Hey I hope you're well .

How would I handle jealousy daddy stucky? Faced with the possibility that Tony consciously reads as if it were his baby.

Could you write that? I would be grateful if you would.

Thanks

Hi there love! 💜

I'm fine thank you! I hope you're well too!! ❤️

Thank you for this request! I hope you like how I wrote it <3

Enjoy <33

****

Warnings : jealous Daddies, overprotective daddies, overprotective talks, Tony went too far (no hate),

Pairings : Daddies!Stucky ; Daddy!Bucky x Papa!Steve x Little!Reader

Summary : a nice dinner turns into a nightmare for your daddies

****

You let out a cute but loud squeak as your daddies told you you were going to the stark tower for dinner.

Your daddies never saw you getting ready that fast before. You clearly didn't wanted to miss one second of your time there.

Your Daddies couldn't help but feel a tiny pain in their heart at how excited you were to go there. Yes they're happy you get along with their friends and love it when you go visit them but the jealousy they feel when you're with Tony is unberable.

"I readyyy" you sing as you come back downstairs.

Your Daddy looks down at you and sighs "baby.. We were thinking about staying here tonight. Having a nice evening just the three of us ?"

You stop running and your face immediatly fell. You look up at him for a second before running to him "no no no Daddy" Your scared face of missing this wonderful night make your Daddy winces "pease! I wanna see 'm friends" you plead with your little eyes.

He looks at Steve who sighs and shrugs in defeat

"alright alright, calm down, little one" your Daddy says trying to get your attention "we're going, baby. we're going, calm down"

You look up at him and exhale a loud breath of relief. You swallow the tears already ready and put on your most beautiful smile before going to the door, following by your Daddies.

The car ride were full of wiggle and anticipation from you as you couldn’t wait anymore to spend your evening at the tower. Your Daddies were, compared to you, rigid and concentrated on their seat while Steve drove you all to the tower.

You didn’t noticed because you were too excited each times you passed a house because it meant that you were getting closer and closer from your beautiful night.

You happily knock on the big door and keep knocking until the door finally open. You look up at whoever opened and grin once you spot him.

‘’Who is disturbing me like that by being so- oh so loud ?’’ Tony teased.

You giggle and throw yourself in his arms and hug him tightly against you. You sigh in contentement, you waited for that all day.

‘´how is my beautiful little friend, here ?’’ He asks. He sits you on his hip and looks down at you

You smile ‘’I’m fine’’ you excitedly say. He chuckles and kisses your temple before stepping aside ‘’Rogers. Barnes’’ he nods greeting your Daddies.

They nod back, a little bit colder than before after seeing what they just saw and enter.

In the meantime of walking from the door to the living room, Tony had the time to ask you a second time how you were doing, what you did today, if you had made friends at school and if everything goes well at school.

You didn’t had time to answer them all, tho, but that’s okay. You have all the evening to give him the answer he wanted to know.

Through the evening, Tony made sure to have you by his side the whole time, even when he wasn’t talking to you. He sat you on his laps, insisted that you sat beside him during dinner and made sure to give you the biggest piece of cake he had cut without asking your Daddies if it was okay.

Now you start to grew tired and is in a position in between laying and sitting on the couch. Your head is on the armrest and your knees are curled against your chest as you tried to fall asleep.

But you were disturbed by someone who grabbed you and sat you on his laps.

Of course, your Daddies had a close eye on you and saw how you react when you were moved while trying to fall asleep and they didn’t liked that at all.

They quickly got up and Bucky didn’t missed a second to grab you back from Tony. When you felt your Daddy’s arms around you, you melt. He felt that and kisses your temple to put you more at ease and calm you down.

Tony stands up but is stopped by Steve who stand between him and you ‘’what’s wrong ?’’ Tony asks.

‘’What’s wrong ?’’ Steve scoffs ‘’you’re really the one asking me this ?’’

‘’Do you notice how you act ?’’ He adds trying to stay calm because you’re beside him ‘’you act as if you could do whatever you wanted with her. You kept her beside you the whole time tonight’’

‘’Yeah so what ?’’ He frowns ‘’are you jealous ?’’

‘’We are not jealous’’

Lies

‘’you kept her from playing and going to whoever she wanted during the night. You didn’t let her leave your side even when you two weren’t talking together. You weren’t respecting her nor us tonight and I’m not letting that slide’’

‘’Steve listen I’m- I weren’t aware of how oppressive I was’’

‘’Yeah well now you know.’’ Bucky quietly snaps as he balances you to help you falling asleep

‘’She was so excited to be able to spend the evening with everyone, so she could explain to Nat the drawing she made about her at school. And so she could show Wanda her new friend who had the same hair as her. Or so she could show Bruce her exams on anatomy that she succeed. She had something to do with everyone, each one of us but because you wanted her beside you the whole time, she hadn’t been able to do all of that’’ Steve says, his voice growing sadder after each words. ‘’She had wait for that the whole week’’

Tony were about to say something when your little voice sounds from your Daddy’s neck ‘’ ‘m tired, Papa. Wanna go home’’ you mumble as you stroke your nose on your daddy’s neck.

‘’Papa will drive us back home in a second baby’’ your Daddy whispers in your ear ‘’he just have to grab the rest of his things and then we’re on the road’’

You nod and he scoops you higher so you’ll be more comfortable.

‘’We’ll talk about this later’’ Steve sternly says ‘’she needs us right now’’

And with that, he turns around and head for the door with your Daddy and you in his arms behind him.

You slept during the whole ride and only opened an eye once you were in your bed because of a deep voice you know too well

"you belong to us, nobody's else. Us and only us"

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