rubyxx16

[rubyxx16]

“The Grey Between The Lines” - Steve Rogers x OC!Stark!Reader

This is my first time actually writing something and posting it. IF anyone reads this, Thank you I appreciate you 🙏 I have many more drafts that’s delve into Olivia and her position in the Marvel Movies in this Universe? If you want to call it that. Feedback is much appreciated! So please don’t hesitate to tell me what you think or what I could do to improve! Thank you 🩷

Warnings: none,

Title: The Grey Between The Lines

You watched them—Steve, standing tall, unwavering, a pillar of righteousness even in the face of Tony’s fury. His jaw was clenched, fists clenched at his sides, as though every fiber of his being was bracing against the pull of Tony’s arguments. And Tony? Tony was pacing, back and forth, his hands gesturing wildly, his body language as explosive as the words leaving his mouth.

“I’m telling you, Steve,” Tony said, his voice rising with a sharp edge, “The Sokovia Accords are necessary. We need oversight. We need accountability. You can’t just keep running around doing whatever the hell you want without consequences!”

Steve’s brow furrowed as his voice rose to meet Tony’s, each word deliberate, grounded in that unshakeable moral compass of his. “And who exactly gets to decide what’s right and what’s wrong, Tony? A group of politicians? Bureaucrats with their own agendas? I thought we were supposed to protect people, not answer to anyone’s leash.”

You felt the weight of every word, the aching truth of it all. You had lived through the consequences of actions taken without oversight—your own past with Hydra a constant reminder of what happened when power was left unchecked. You understood the need for control, but you also understood the danger of letting someone else take the reins.

You leaned forward slightly, your gaze flickering between the two of them. You saw Tony’s frustration, raw and unapologetic, but you also saw the genuine care he had for the people he protected. He had seen too much. Felt too much. The guilt weighed him down like a shackle.

And Steve, standing firm in his belief that autonomy was key, that they couldn’t be bound by strings. But there was a fire in him, too. A fire you’d always admired. He fought for what he believed in, even when it tore him apart.

The argument was escalating, and you could feel it in the air—the electric tension crackling just beneath the surface. You weren’t a stranger to conflict, but this… this wasn’t just an ideological battle. This was about trust. About loyalty. About control. And you, sitting quietly, watched as your two most important people—one your brother, the other your partner—stood on opposing sides.

You uncrossed your legs slowly, your gaze flickering between them once more before you finally spoke. Your voice cut through the room like a blade, smooth and clear, carrying the weight of your years of experience. “Guys,” you said, and immediately, the room fell silent. Steve and Tony both turned toward you, momentarily distracted from their heated exchange. Steve’s expression softened as always when he saw you, but Tony’s lips were still pressed into a thin line, a mixture of frustration and something else—something you couldn’t quite place.

Tony’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, great. Here we go. Let’s hear it from the peanut gallery,” he said with a mock smirk.

“Tony,” you snapped, your tone sharp enough to make him stop in his tracks. He knew better than to push you too far. “I’ve been sitting here listening to you two go at it like children fighting over a toy, and all I can think is, ‘Why are we making this so black and white?’”

Steve raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by your words. He stepped a little closer to you, his posture relaxed but his attention fully on you now. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” you began, your voice steady but filled with quiet authority, “there’s validity to both sides. Yes, accountability is important. Yes, we’ve made mistakes. But signing these Accords? Giving control of the Avengers to a panel of people who don’t understand what we do, who don’t have to make the choices we make? That’s a dangerous road to go down.”

Tony crossed his arms, his body language tightening as the conversation moved into unfamiliar territory for him. “So what, you’re on his side now?” He sounded almost defensive, like he was trying to gauge your loyalty.

You sighed, rubbing the back of your neck as you fought to hold onto your calm composure. “It’s not about sides, Tony,” you said, your words deliberate, calm but firm. “It’s about balance. You want oversight? Fine. But it has to be oversight that we can trust. Not some faceless committee that sees us as tools instead of people.”

Steve’s eyes softened as he met your gaze, a silent understanding passing between you. His quiet support meant more to you than any of his words ever could.

Tony’s jaw clenched, and you saw the familiar flicker of doubt in his eyes. You knew him well enough by now to see when his mind was racing, processing a thousand thoughts at once. But even now, even in this heated moment, there was something vulnerable in his posture, something that hinted at the years of hurt and responsibility he’d carried on his shoulders.

“And what happens when we mess up again, huh?” Tony asked, his voice quieter now but filled with the same lingering fear. “When another Sokovia happens? Are we just supposed to sit here and hope for the best?”

Your gaze softened as you leaned forward slightly. “No, we take responsibility,” you said, your voice quiet but firm, “But we do it on our terms. Not theirs.”

There was a long silence, the kind that was more powerful than any words. You could feel the weight of the room pressing in, every word that had been said hanging in the air like an unspoken promise. Tony stood still, his arms still crossed, his eyes searching yours. And Steve—well, Steve was always the one who believed in what was right. His faith was unwavering, even when the rest of the world seemed to be falling apart.

“Liv…” Tony started, his voice almost hesitant now. He paused, then continued in a softer tone. “You’re always so damn logical. You know that? It’s infuriating.”

You smiled faintly, your lips curling into a half-smirk. “Comes with the territory, big brother.”

Steve took a step closer to you then, his hand brushing against yours in a simple, grounding gesture. You met his eyes, and there was nothing more that needed to be said. His gaze spoke volumes—gratitude, love, understanding. Everything you needed to know was in that look. And you felt your heart settle, the quiet warmth of his presence wrapping around you like a protective cloak.

Finally, you stood, smoothing down your jacket as you looked between the two of them. You could see the internal battle raging in both of their eyes. Tony’s stubbornness was there, but so was his vulnerability. Steve’s conviction was unwavering, but even he felt the weight of the decision.

“You both have a lot to think about,” you said, your voice steady. “And for what it’s worth, I don’t think either of you is entirely wrong. But you’re not entirely right, either.”

Tony raised an eyebrow, a sarcastic smile pulling at the corner of his lips. “Way to sit on the fence, Liv.”

You rolled your eyes, walking over to him. There was a brief moment of hesitation on his part, his posture stiffening slightly, but you reached up anyway, pressing a kiss to his cheek—brief but filled with affection. “Be safe, Don’t do anything ridiculous or I’ll kill you” you whispered, your voice low and steady.

Then, you turned to Steve who was quietly smirking to himself because Tony got “told off”. His gaze softened as he waited for you to come to him. Without a word, you leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek as well, a gesture that spoke volumes more than any words could. When you pulled away, you smiled softly at him. “Same goes for you, Rogers,” you said, the corner of your lips curving into a teasing smile.

As you stepped back, the room felt quieter, the weight of the moment lingering in the air. The conflict between Steve and Tony had not been resolved, but the tension between them had lessened, if only by a fraction. The air was still thick with uncertainty, but it felt a little less charged now.

You walked toward the door, your heart heavy with the knowledge that this wouldn’t be the last time they clashed. But at least, in that moment, they had listened. At least, in that moment, you had reminded them that they weren’t alone in this.

As you reached for the door, you glanced back over your shoulder at Steve and Tony—two men you loved more than anything in the world, two men who were so very different, but who you hoped, somehow, could find their way to the same side. Together.

Because if there was one thing you’d learned from your life, it was that the world wasn’t black and white. There was a gray area, a space where the rules weren’t always so clear, but it was in that space—those murky, uncertain places—that real strength was forged.

And if they couldn’t find that together, then you would help them find it. You always would.

Well I hope you enjoyed this! And please let me know if you want more. Thank you I appreciate you🩷

[rubyxx16]

Dulce et decorum II

Lucius Verus x fem! Gladiator reader

"Dulce et decorum" Sweet and bitter. Used to describe the conflicting feelings of pleasure and pain. Love might be sweet, but the bitter undertone that alludes to hate will always be more prominent.

Part I can be found here!!

Warnings - canon-like injuries, nudity, fight over dominance, teasing. Pretty much it.

‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

After his victory, Lucius made his way over to one of the more secluded thermae.

His time in the spacious, private rooms with pool-like baths after a game was usually his favourite. He enjoyed the ambience the high windows brought with their soft luminense. The cream coloured tiles that decorated the floor and walls. The stone benches that had plates with ripe fruit on them and neatly folded clean, intact clothing.

To him, this was truly a reward.

This area was off-limits for slaves. These thermae were for the best of the best gladiators. The ones that the crowd loved. The ones that enjoyed and were good at their sport. The ones that also found themselves in certain rivalries with other star gladiators.

After he got in, Lucius breathed out with content as he rested his head against the side of the pool, letting the warm water loosen up his tense muscles.

He let his mind wander aimlessly as he found himself in a much more peaceful state. The thought of you did cross it many times.

He smiled to himself as he reflected on the fight you just had and his triumph.

It was always different with you.

It wasn't like the regular blood thirsty shows he had to put on to amuse Rome. To him, fighting you was the only actual game.

In and outside of the Colosseum.

Though he would never actually admit it, he always looked forward to the next time you would find yourself in the arena together.

In between those times, you would make playfully rude comments at each other as you crossed each other's paths about how terrible one's performance was or show mock concern when the other had a slight injury.

He hated your guts, obviously. You were quite literally the most obnoxious person on this planet to him. After all, you were his number one rival.

On the other hand, there was a part of him that admired you. He would sometimes catch himself marvelling at your fierce power and your beauty. He wondered where your strength and discipline came from. What made you that way?

Apart from that, he would also accidentally wonder if you were like that in more intimate settings if you will.

He usually didn't ponder on it for too long, knowing he'd probably never find out anyway.

Gods, he didn't even want to.

Well.

Maybe. It was all a bit confusing.

"An hour!" He suddenly heard, making him snap out of his thoughts and slip out of his relaxed state.

He knew that voice all too well. He also knew that that meant the peace he had known for all of 5 minutes was over.

All you got in response was an annoyed groan.

You shamelessly sat down on one of the stone benches across from the bath that had a plate of fruit on it, taking one of the figs and biting into it.

He just let you get to it with a dour expression written all over his face. There wasn't a slight chance of shooing you away, and he knew it.

"Look!" You exclaimed, turning your torso and frantically pointing at the stitched up wound on the side of your arm.

"It took them an entire hour to stitch it up and it hurt like hell." You added.

His unamused face shifted into a slight smirk, but there was still no verbal response.

You bit into another fig as you stared back at his victorious face. "So unnecessary."

He sighed as he closed his eyes and leant his head back onto the side of the bath again. "Sorry."

"You're not sorry, Lucius."

At this, he smiled widely with his eyes still shut, confirming your statement.

"I wasn't when I broke your finger last month." You added.

You kind of were. You just knew mentioning that would piss him off.

He opened his eyes to glare at you. "Is there a reason you're here other than disturbing by peace?"

"Well, I was about to wash off..." you said as you got up. "-but all of the thermae are occupied, so I shall wait."

You had almost reached the exit before he spoke up.

"You're filthy."

Really?

You turned on your heels, giving him an annoyed look. "Good observation."

You looked down at your dirty knees and arms, all of them stained with dust, blood and dirt as he stated the obvious.

"This guy kept knocking me on my ass into the mud earlier. Not sure what that was all about." You retorted sarcastically.

He usually would have had something witty to say. A certain look on his face. A scoff or a huff.

But he had neither one of those.

Instead, he completely ignored your comment, nodding his head towards the water, motioning for you to join him.

"I won't be done for a while."

This actually took you by surprise, and you couldn't exactly tell if he was being serious or not.

Not that you minded. You just weren't used to him being? Nice?

"Are you- am-"

"Just get in before I start regretting it." He said as he closed his eyes again, now placing his arms on the sides of the pool, accentuating his slick biceps beautifully.

You huffed through your nose with a confused look on your face. You really were bewildered, but it also felt kinda right. Like nice. Or maybe you were looking into it too much. Anyhow.

Either way, you now found yourself at the edge of the bath, slowly stripping yourself of the torn-at clothing you were wearing.

His eyes were shut, but as he heard you get into the water, he pursed his lips.

"You can look, you know." You said plainly as you swam over to him.

You started to wash off some of the dirt on your arms.

He fixed his gaze on you and observed you in your most fragile, vulnerable state. You hair was down, your body wasn't hidden behind many layers of armour and the sun illuminated your feminine beauty.

He suddenly felt really different towards you. He didn't mean for his masculinity to get in the way, but he felt kind of protective over you.

He didn't want any other gladiator hurting you in a fight. Or worse.

Soon enough, you did take notice of his not so subtle stare and it made you a bit nervous. "What?" You questioned as you splashed some water in his face so he diverted his gaze.

"Why are you here?" He asked you genuinely. He wasn't talking about the water. You knew that.

You looked up at his am you paused your actions and sighed. "I had to be good at something. My sisters were good at sewing or literature. I just ended up handling a sword instead of a needle or a pencil."

"And you think you're good at that?" He commented sarcastically.

"Oh shut up!" You exclaimed as you now sent a much larger wave of water towards his face.

"Sorry, sorry!" He laughed before spitting some of the water out.

You shook your head with a slight smile on your face, his snarky remarks never failing to amuse you.

As you continued cleaning yourself, you got to your wound. Truthfully, the healer didn't do the best job and it was showing.

The pain you experienced while trying to scrub around it was horrible, and small droplets of blood kept dripping out.

"You should go back for that. Go see my healer, Ravi. It is my fault, after all." He paused as he continued to watch you wince at the fractured skin.

"Seriously, that doesn't look right, I'm not trying to make you go through any more pain or anything, I'm just saying I know what it's suppos-"

"I trust you." You said, cutting him off.

"You? You trust me?"

You decided to leave your wound alone as you swam to the side next to him, resting your arms on the tiles and speaking up.

"In the arena, you try your hardest to defeat me. We repeatedly hurt each other to what? Gain favour of a mob we do not care about?"

Lucius wasn't entirely sure what you were getting at.

"So do you, no?"

You sighed as you studied his puzzled expression.

"You could drown me right now. You could've been here alone, but you offered me to be here." You paused for a second. "Nude."

He scoffed and turned, so he was now facing you.

His ego was slightly damaged. Bingo.

"Maybe I prefer having someone around that hates me entirely rather than being adored by people whom I do not know." He said whilst holding profound eye contact with you.

"I think you're messed up."

You whispered, never leaving his eyes.

Instead of answering, he just brought his hand up to your shoulder and pushed you down into the water.

Slowly, you descended.

This seemed like your usual messing about, but it was much more than that.

This was all a part of your imaginary roles in your mental game that had been going on for so long.

When he pushed you down into the water, you didn't resist, essentially proving that he infact could drown you if he wanted to right now.

You'd let him.

And he wouldn't do that.

That last statement became clear as he pulled you back up immediately after submerging your body without any defiance.

You blinked your eyes open and Lucius placed the hand that wasnt already on the ledge on your other side before you could register what was going on, pinning you between the tiles and himself.

He now finally allowed himself to take you in as he had a quite cocky look on his face.

His eyes wandered over your bare neck, your defined colorbones and lastly, the curve of your breasts.

He slowly looked back up again and traced your lips with his fingers.

You couldn't lie to yourself; being pinned against the wall by your sworn enemy ignited a certain fire in your stomach and was travelling further south.

To Lucius, this was it. He had already won.

It was going to be put to the test.

"Kiss me." He said, now staring into your eyes, his look filled with both desire and hatred.

You liked how the same confidence he showed in battle started to show itself, but you wouldn't give yourself away that easy.

You smiled at him, drawing a line with your finger over his jaw, neck, chest, and abdomen before bringing them to his own arms.

"I don't know... Do men like you deserve that?" You replied, referring to Lucius' quote only a few hours prior as you twisted his wrist to break yourself free from his grip, yet again using the same technique as earlier.

You swam over to the side and got out.

Lucius was tempted to swim after you. To have you right here, but he didn't.

For now, he just admired your curves and nude body as you dried your hair and got dressed, passing him knowing glances before you left.

He felt close to vanquishing you, and he knew he would eventually.

But not just yet. This was a game that was in no rush to end.

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

Me when im scared to write smut so i just make it cringe instead

Anyway there prob will be a pt 3 where they ACTUALLY do it so yayyy comments or reblogs would be greatly appreciated if u wanna see that!!!

[rubyxx16]

Reminiscence pt 2

Lucius Verus x Childhood best friend! Reader

Summary - Rome was free, and this was being celebrated. However, who did the Colosseum's hero have to share this with?

Warnings - Slight angsty undertone, slow burn is slower than Caracalla's thought process, drinking, Lucius being protective, making out (yay) Oh, and Lucius not knowing how to deal with emotions at the start.

Part 1 can be found here :)

Wordcount - 3.0k

‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

The following day, you spent an extra amount of time bathing, was extra picky when it came to deciting what dress to put on and spent ages doing your hair.

There was a part of you that did notice how all of this looked and felt, but you decided to push it away. It was only Lucius.

Right?

A few hours later you were on your way to the party, being guided by one of your loyal handmaidens. All day long you had been expressing your excitement to the poor girl. You were quite sure you would've talked her ears off if she was with you for a moment longer.

You promtly thanked her as she wished you a lovely time before entering the large hall the party was being held at.

You had heard of the party, but didn't initially plan on going since you wouldn't know many people. You truly were just here by Lucius' request, so you started looking around, hoping to find him.

It was pretty crowded, but it seemed like a nice environment. You heard many laughs and watched as people indulged in some fruits.

You decided to get a drink and look at some of the amazing paintings on the walls Maybe he wasn't here yet, or maybe he was busy.

Neither of those assumptions were true. On the other side of the room, Lucius was standing there, surrounded by people he didn't know. On one side of him there was some girl touching his shoulder, talking about some service of hers he wasn't interested in. On his other side, a politician was trying to talk to him about some boring project.

To him, all of this was just a case of nodding and smiling.

That was until he saw you.

Suddenly, you and Lucius found yourself in the exact same situation as yesterday afternoon.

Your back might have been turned to him, but to him, this offered him the perfect opportunity to admire you.

"If you'll excuse me." He said, waving off the people that were trying to grab his attention before making his way over to you.

You were studying a picture on the wall that depicted a strange looking human with two faces, four arms and four legs.

"Jupiter." You suddenly heard behind you.

"Supposedly, that is what we all looked like before Jupiter tore us apart. Every person would walk the earth with misery and dispair until they found their missing half." He informed you.

You tilted your head and furrowed your eyebrows at the painting you were now both standing infront of. "How tragic. Do you think some were ever able to find each other?"

At this, he turned his head to look at you. Of this you were unaware, too focused on the depiction of the love story.

"...Probably." he finally said.

"Let's get some wine."

As you walked over to the table full of beverages, you felt him bring his large hand to the small of your back, as if not to lose you in the crowd.

When you glanced up at him, he didn't even seem aware of this. It was something that happened out of protective impulse rather than a conscious action.

You tasted a few different wine options, making fun of how disgusting some of them were and laughing at the strange, involuntary faces they caused you to pull.

Settling for a wine you both liked, you went to sit down on one of the couches.

"So all of these people are here to celebrate you?" You asked him, still not really understanding why he wanted you to come along when there's so much power and so many women right at his fingertips.

"Partly, I suppose. Not just me. Other... people too."

You raised you eyebrows in question. You might not have seen him for sixteen years, but he was just as bad at lying.

"Do you not wish to take credit for your achievements?" You asked him.

He sighed before leaning back on the couch as he manspread, draping one of his arms over the part of the backrest you were sitting up against.

"I do. I just do not wish to interact with people who adore me only for those achievements." He said before turning to you. "In the same way you do not wish to marry for wealth, correct?" Lucius added.

You huffed, realising that that was indeed a very comparable situation. "You are correct."

"Excuse me, may I speak to you for a moment?" Some man asked, referring to Lucius.

He looked at you as he downed the rest of his wine in one go while keeping eye contact. "Be back in a moment. You stay right here for me, yeah?" He requested as he stood up and disappeared into the crowd.

A few minutes later, you got approached by a man your age.

"What might a girl like you be doing here?"

You perked up at the man that started a conversation. "Here for my... friend." You replied shortly, not being all that interested.

It wasn't an uncommon thing to happen to you, really. You just learned that being bland in your answers usually gave somewhat of a hint.

The man continued to pester you with questions, all about you. You were genuinely amazed at how thick some men could be. You weren't exactly an engaging conversation parter to him.

"Would you want me to get us a drink?" He asked you after thinking long and hard about what to ask you next.

You were just about to lie to him and tell him you weren't thirsty before you felt someone sit beside you.

"I don't think she does, actually." You heard a familiar, smooth voice say.

You pursed your lips to keep yourself from smiling too much as Lucius passed you another glass of the wine you liked.

Taking a sip of his own glass, he placed his hand on your knee.

You just hoped he didn't notice the shiver going through your body as he did so. His touch was quite firm and his confidence brought a certain feeling to your stomach.

You turned to look at him as he still glared at the man.

You knew he was capable of murdering people, but if looks could kill, any guy who glanced at you for too long would've been a dead man by now.

The man who was previously talking to you opened his mouth as if he were to say something, but he didn't even get the chance, as Lucius was already speaking.

"No really, you can leave now."

Without protest, he soon left. Although he was rather annoying, you found the way he got treated by Lucius rather amusing.

With his hand still on your thigh, you slanted your hips to lean your elbow on the backrest and face him, hand supporting your head.

Now being fully turned to him, you followed his eyes as he watched to make sure the man was really gone.

He then focused on you again and saw you were already smiling at him.

"What?" He said, asif he didn't just scare a man just by looking at him because he talked to you.

"Nothing!" You laughed, thinking it to be pretty obvious.

Both of you took another sip of your drink, really starting to notice the effects of the alcohol.

For you, 'effects of the alcohol' usually included rambling.

"So I've been thinking about that painting we just saw and I just really think that the story behind it would be a great inspiration for this music project I am working on. Father does not support it so much, but I-"

To be fair, Lucius wasn't really listening. Not that he didn't care, the intoxication he was under just made him lose his focus.

All he could bring his attention to was the way the dim lighting made all of your soft features glow, the way you kept fiddling with a loose strand of hair and the way it wrapped around your fingertips and the way your pulpy lips moved as you talked, slightly pouting when you tried to think of a word.

"You've grown to look so beautiful." He interupted you in a hushed voice.

You barely caught it, but it you heard. And it made you nervous.

"You aren't listening!" You giggled, playing it off. "I just think that-"

"You are beautiful." He confirmed as he studied every inch of you he could see from where he was sitting.

"Are you trying to flatter me, Lucius Verus?"

"Is it working?"

He knows it's working.

"....Maybe." you trailed, looking away from his smirking face.

"Come on." He suddenly said as he stood up, offering you a hand. You had no clue what he was on about.

"Sorry?"

"Dance with me."

"Oh, I don't dance."

"Yes, you did."

"Yeah, did."

He didn't say anything this time. Instead, he just did a 'come here' motion with his outstretched hand.

Rolling your eyes, you took another drink of your glass and you placed your hand in his. Rather than waiting for you to get up yourself, he pulled you up with his hand, catching your body in his arms, earning a quick shriek.

There was just no one like him. Normally, what he just did would be frowned upon by yourself and others, but this wasn't 'normally'. It was Lucius.

Somehow he had made you feel much safer and made you have much more fun that any other man had in the past few years, and that you did notice.

The next half an hour you spent dancing to the bubbly music created by a few musicians on a raised podium-like area in the room.

You didn't know if it was the alcohol, hormones or just him, but every touch, laugh and glance made you realise that this wasn't just friendly anymore. You didn't want it to be.

"We should go, it's way too hot in here!" You said, but he couldn't understand you. He placed his hands on your upper arms as he leaned down to hover his face next to yours.

"Outside! Too hot! And tired." You repeated, slightly out of breath.

He nodded quickly as he lead the two of you outside.

It was now dark, only the moon and stars being visible in the sky. A few torches illuminated the paths.

"I'll walk you home." Lucius told you as he started slowly walking in the general direction of your domus.

You sped up your pace to catch up with him and looped your arm with his as you got near him.

During this short walk you talked about plans you had these next few days and agreed to see eachother on Wednesday.

"Are you quite sure you can't pick me up Tuesday?" You complained as you approached the gates, stopping before you turned around the last corner.

"Eager?" He teased as you wrapped your arms around your cold torso, leaning against the wall.

"Sixteen years was enough for me."

He let out an amused huff as you looked up at the man standing infront of you.

You might have both been a bit drunk, but nothing could hide his lingering, longing gaze that returned for the billionth time this night.

You made eye contact with him for a while and squinted your eyes just a bit. "What are you thinking about?" You whispered, tilting your head.

"I'm thinking about in how much trouble I'd be if I were to kiss you."

His directness took you off guard as a blush that was creeping up your cheeks threatened to force you to look away.

"Maybe you should find out?" You suggested shyly.

With that, he brought one of his large hands up to your cheek as he leaned in.

He stopped right before your lips touched, smiling victoriously.

He had won before. Won games, fights, prizes.

This type of winning just somehow didn't get close to any other form, though.

A shaky breath managed to escape you as you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into you, closing the last bit of distance that was left between you.

The kiss was soft. Genuine. Pure.

It lasted for a while as you gracefully moved your lips together, both humming in content.

You reached for the back of his head, tugging at his hair which made him bring one hand to your hip to firmly grip it.

Soon enough, your kisses became shorter and more frequent due to your lack of breath, but also your need. You wanted more of him.

The kisses you shared became even sloppier when he decided to slip his tongue inside of your mouth, earning a muffled moan from you.

You'd heard about all of the quick and steady handwork he was capable of in the arena, but you were quick to find out that was also very applicable when it came to making out.

His hands were all over you. Every part of you that he could reach was touched, felt or caressed in some way at some point.

As he ran his hand up and down your side he lightly dragged his thumb along your breast in the process, making you arch your back into him involuntary.

The unpredicted friction that this brought to your lower bodies made his breath falter.

"Fuck, deliciae. "

Even though you wanted to, you couldn't take it further now. After all, you were quite literally in puclic. There was no one around, but it was still risky as both of you were recognisable figures.

You finally pressed a long, lingering kiss on his lips before you withdrew yourself.

"Come to mine." He whispered, peppering your cheek and temple with light kisses.

You smiled at his attempt to make you agree. You wanted to. That was not the problem at all.

"You know I'm being expected." You got out between his pecks that landed on your face.

He sighed as he seemed to remember. "Wednesday?" He questioned with a hopeful glint in his eyes.

"Who's eager now?" You smirked, gaining a head shake from Lucius as he used the wall behind you to push himself off of you.

"Wednesday." You confirmed as you rounded the corner and walked up to the gates.

There, you turned around to hug him. You found there was something so special and significant about this innocent interaction between you two. Two hearts being pressed against eachother as close as possible. The same ones as sixteen years ago, then much smaller.

So you stayed like that for a moment.

Face, arms and legs all connected or intertwined in some way.

Almost like becoming a whole once again.

Almost like how Jupiter, shining right above you, had intended.

--------

Hope you enjoyed!!

This acc took me 3 days to write, so reblogs and comments would be greatly appreciated🩷🩷🩷

[rubyxx16]

LET'S FUCKIN GOOOOOOOOO

[rubyxx16]

Of Bending and Breaking || Tommy Shelby x Reader

Summary: Always being the one who cares for others comes with a price: you break down, but the most unexpected person is here for you: Tommy, the man you were forced to marry.

Words: 2,3k

TW: Hurt/Comfort, very tiny mention of past sexual assault, no proofreading 'cause it comes from clearing my drafts.

Notes: Aunt Isabella's is a tribute to my own aunt Isabelle who, unfortunately, died because of cancer a few years ago.

It all started with Polly shaking Tommy like a tree, her thin hands firmly grabbing his nephew’s broad shoulders: “You can’t keep sabotaging yourself like this, Tom.” These were the words that left her quivering lips as she dragged his staggering frame to the bathroom and pushed his face into the bathtub right under the tap. When the freezing water splashed all over his neck, Tommy opened his blank eyes wide and inhaled sharply, as if he had suddenly come back to life. Since Grace’s awful death, the gangster was the shadow of his former self. When he wasn’t waging a senseless war with Father Hughes and the Italian, or when he wasn’t keeping his buzzing mind busy with work, Tommy usually numbed himself with a deadly combination of whisky and opium until his deep-seated pain became bearable. It was the night he almost overdosed that Polly decided to take charge of his nephew and found him a new wife, in the hope of soothing his nephew’s mind and finding a mother figure for poor little Charlie. The idea had obviously sent Tommy in a fit of anger but Polly Gray couldn’t care less.

Regarding your own situation, it was not the opium nor the loss of a dear lover that had led you to Birmingham’s most dangerous man but rather the bump in your belly. Aunt Isabella had understood what you were suffering from the moment you had stormed out of the vardo to throw up your breakfast in the nearest bush. The tall and lean woman, whose light brown and curly mane danced in the cold autumn wind, had looked at you right in the eyes and raised one of her thin eyebrows. If there was something pleasant with her, it was that words weren’t necessary.

Yet, later she encountered Polly, with whom she had been a great friend since childhood, and explained that a powerful American man had forced his seeds in you during his stay in England. Not willing to go through the traumatic experience of aborting, Isabella only saw one solution to your problem: you needed a husband who could protect you and your future baby from the evil man with his scarred lip. A wedding would be your salvation. At the realization of what Aunt Isabella had planned for you, you tried to run away from the camp in the middle of the night but she knew you too well and soon caught you, her sly hand firmly grabbing your wrist: “Y/N! It’s for your sake! He’s rich, he needs a wife and he is feared! You’ll be safe with him, don’t you understand?” She explained, cupping your face with her long fingers adorned with claws painted in red and far too many rings. “I don’t need a man to protect me! I don’t need anyone. He’s older and he’s a criminal! Who’s going to protect me from him eh? Have you think ‘bout that?” You cried, the soft light of the sunrise turning your tears into liquid gold.

But still, you wedded him and what was supposed to be the happiest day of your life turned out to be a dull event during which you dissociated the whole time. The only memories you had in mind were two piercing and frightening turquoise eyes staring right at your soul and soft whiskey-tasting lips stealing a quick peck from your cherry lips. A kiss devoid of any form of affection. And then, the groom left.

From what Aunt Isabella told you, your husband had spent most of the celebrations with his brothers, drinking and taking bets outside of Arrow House. Months had passed and still, you felt estranged to this place and its staff. The only moments your heart lightened were when Aunt Isabella visited you, or when Charlie spent time with you, otherwise you remained emotionally closed, trapped in your own mind. Overall you could not complain: You had a house far too big for you with plenty of workers willing to exhaust every one of your wishes. Charlie was a sweet boy, who loved you with all his heart even if you were well aware that you’ll never replace his mother. As for the Shelby clan, they were cordial with you without being really friendly either. And there was Tommy…

Cold and distant Tommy, who you only saw late at night when he discretely slipped under the bedsheet and turned his back to you without uttering a single word. Busy Tommy, whose replies remained concise and spoken with a quiet husky voice each time you asked him something — at least he talked to you a little bit. Trapped in a loveless marriage, that was what you were: Tommy was more a stranger, a mere gust of wind in your life, than the love of your life.

Still, the gangster stayed true to his words and he provided for everything, never refusing to give you money when you asked, and protecting you from the man who had taken your innocence. He even gifted you a wonderful stallion because he knew how much you missed riding. In exchange for his protection and riches, all you had to do was take care of Charlie and do your best to be there for your husband when his darkness threatened to swallow him whole.

You found out about the nightmares shortly after your wedding and quickly decided to do something about it. When he woke up screaming and drenched in sweat after tasting the tunnels’ dirt and Grace’s crimson blood in his troubled sleep, you always cradle him, your fingers losing themselves in his wet dark hair to pet his head gently. At first, you feared his reaction, expecting the infamous Tommy Shelby to push you and not-so-kindly ask you to keep your distance but, to your greatest surprise, he never did. Instead, he would bury his face in your cleavage, panting and trembling, and let you reassure him. Just like he let you bring dinner to him each time he drowned himself in paperwork and forgot to eat. He never commented on your cooking skills though, even if he always handed back empty plates.

The blood on his skin? You cleaned it.

The wounds of his flesh? You never failed to patched them up.

The hole in his heart? You tried to seal it off with caresses, soft kisses, and shoulder massages. Maybe one day he would slowly turn his iciness into affection. Little did you know that he needed it. And by it he needed you. Just like the whole family. How many times did you walk the streets of Birmingham at night, seeking for Arthur and then bringing him home to take care of a wasted and high him? Far too many to keep track. Similarly, you had spent countless evenings helping Ada when she felt overwhelmed, either nursing Karl or cleaning her house when, just like her brother, she overworked herself. And finally, Polly could never thank you enough for everything you did to soothe her mind after the gallows, still haunted by the bite of the hanging rope on her throat.

“Thanks Poppy.” Arthur muttered, the gravel in his voice coated with shame now that you were down clearing and disinfecting his split knuckles. The oldest brother had started to affectionately call you so for the sole reason that, according to him, you must probably grow better when blood was considering how much you had seen when patching the Shelby siblings. “Sorry for errr… For the mess.” He went on, his steel blue eyes fleeing yours.

“That’s okay.” You replied in Romani, “You, sweet idiot.” Endeared by how surprisingly soft Arthur’s harsh complexions could turn, you couldn’t help but gently put your hand on one of his cheeks. And during this tender display of affection, Arthur was convinced he had caught sight of a smile — a scarce event barely happening on your beautiful but resigned face. Comforted by the warmth of your palm, he leaned into your touch and looked at you through dark lashes, his lids half-closed.

“Tommy’s one lucky bastard to have ya for himself, eh."

"Let's both flee together then." You teased, the familiar tone of Romani language rendered even more melodious by your siren-like voice.

"Don't tempt me, little one." Arthur replied, softer than intended and probably only half-joking.

The oldest Shelby brother had barely closed the door when your smile disappeared and tears flooded your eyes. Admittedly, spending months of repressing your own anguish didn’t do any good to you despite thinking that focusing on others would have helped. Quite the contrary, all those negative emotions you had left on the back burner turned into a silent and deadly parasite that was eating you up. Dragging your tired frame to the cold and empty marital bedroom, you curled up in a ball in a corner of the room, your bruised knees pressed against your chest, “Positive. You gotta stay positive and push forwards y’see Y/N? Do the right things for the family…” You whispered to yourself as your breath started to quicken for the ball of sorrow in your throat was growing more and more. Yes, you had to smile and say that all was just fine because you knew you were lucky to be here and that you hadn’t any real reason to complain now according to the rest of the world. And yet, the truth was you were tired. So tired and overwhelmed by everything around you. With your wild soul trapped here in the mighty walls of Arrow House, you could not help but drown in an excruciating feeling of worthlessness.

You were lost in a world too difficult for you to understand. Lost and unprepared for a life that asked for too much. When you were living in the vardo with Aunt Isabella life seemed so much easier despite the lack of money and, sometimes, food. Prior to your wedding, she used to tell you that everything would become clear once you’d be a wife and a mother. You’d be an adult adult, you see? But she lied. They all lied. Even with a husband and kids, you still felt like a scared and confused child, who wanted to hide under the blanket of her warm bed and never face the world ever again. These concerns of yours? You never shared because you wanted the Shelby to keep seeing you as a reassuring presence— moreover, God knew how much their broken hearts needed your silent care.

Bringing your trembling fingers to your mouth, you muffled a first sob, convinced it would be enough to keep you from crying. What you didn’t expect was to burst into tears, uncontrollably weeping. After all this time forcing yourself to be strong, your mind had enough. As your heart-wrenching cries echoed in the room they muffled Tommy’s footsteps that were coming closer and closer. When the door flung open, you did not even move, lost in a spiral of pain and psychological exhaustion.

“Y/N?!” Tommy called you, his usual coldness swept away by a surge of panic. He closed the distance between you and him with hastened steps, and put one of his knees on the floor to be at your level, “What’s wrong, ay?” His husky voice asked, worries thickening his Brummie accent even more. You hiccuped and raised your flooded eyes towards him, parting your lips to answer. Yet, as soon as your gaze met his turquoise iris you started weeping again, louder this time. Words were at a loss by dint of never having the chance to express what you felt throughout your life. “Bloody Hell, Y/N! Speak!” Tommy hissed, his heart now drumming in his chest at the sight of his young and always-so-strong wife crumbling in bits in front of him. Never in his life, he had felt so powerless, not even in the tunnels… And, God, he hated it.

“N-nothing. I don’t… I don’t even know it’s just that— I’m so fucking tired, and lost, and confused, and afraid!” You spoke with a very fast pace, spitting years and years of repressed emotions flowing from you all the while feeling deeply ashamed of your mental breakdown. When you were done venting, you simply turned your head and waved off the topic, tears still rolling down your reddened cheeks “Anyway! You’ve got — more important things to do.”

“Stop it, Y/N,” He scolded, low voice rumbling in his chest. His strong and calloused hands, damaged by the war and hard work, cupped your face with a softness you didn’t know he possessed. For the first time in your life, his grip felt utterly reassuring as if you knew these scarred palms were not going to let you fall apart. Never. “You’re what’s important right now.” With that being said, Tommy leaned his forehead against yours and his enchanting eyes soon met yours to force you to focus on nothing else but the vast blue oceans which composed them. “I want you to calm down.”

“I can’t, I can’t—“ You tried to speak but you couldn’t, struggling to breathe under the crushing weight of your panic attack. Your mouth gaped, looking for the oxygen it couldn’t find.

“Oi!” Tommy said louder. So loud that his voice managed to overcome the cacophony of your beating heart and the buzzing sound of your anxiety that filled your head, “I want you to breathe with me, Y/N. Alright? You can do that for me, ay?” He asked, his eyebrows slightly frowned and charming crowfeet appearing at the corner of his eyes — how odd it was to see Tommy’s face veiled with something else than unsettling placidity. Caught off guard by the sudden realization of how close he was, you quieted down a little bit and soon followed the pattern of his breathing.

One long inhale through the nose, one longer exhale through the mouth, and a short pose.

Do it again.

Your shaky hands slowly grabbed his wrists in a desperate attempt to anchor you to reality. This, as well as the focus you had on his mesmerizing complexions.

His long dark lashes — you inhaled slowly.

His cat-like turquoise iris — you exhaled.

His salient cheekbones — You stopped breathing for a very short while.

The myriad of freckles — “Breathe with me, Y/N.”

The soft, hoarse lilt guided you through the dark and thick fog of your own brain, just like a lighthouse. Coming back to clearer waters, your body finally relaxed and fell almost limp in his arms. And once again he caught you, keeping you all safe against his chest. Tommy’s voice, low and steady, resonated one last time in the bedroom with a reassuring warmth as he uttered the simple yet powerful phrase, "I'm here." Each word carefully enunciated, carrying a quiet strength that soothed and reassured, like a comforting anchor in a stormy sea.

Keep your writers motivated: Reblog and/or comment if you liked it, you filthy animal! o/ English is not my first language btw.

Taglist: @adaydreamaway08 @theshelbyclan @jomarch-wannabe @esposadomd @zablife @woofgocows @anathemasworld @anastasia000 @kate654 @kxnnxy @babayaga67 @meowtastick @shelbyssins @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @bluevenus19 @raincoffeeandfandoms @kishie8 @zablife @alexandra-001 @dearshelby @alexizodd @helen06dreamer @kmc1989 @emotionalcadaver @peakyswritings @peakyltd @chaosinkest1996 @vanhelsingsbigtoe @red-riding-wood

[rubyxx16]

Anyone else getting frustrated at the amount of smut recently? Like yes it’s good sometimes but when I’m trying my damn hardest to find a cute fluffy angsty story and all I can find is pure smut, it gets frustrating. Please don’t tell me this is only me 😫😖😭

[rubyxx16]

OC edit (still haven’t given her a name) 😭✋🏻

[rubyxx16]

EVERYONE DRINK WATER RIGHT NOW AND REBLOG TO KEEP THE HYDRATION GANG CHAIN GOING

[rubyxx16]

for the best part two | harry lewis

part two of 'for the best'

part one here

word count : 4.1k

a/n: part two!!!! thank u for all the love on part one hope you all enjoy this next part!!!! <333

warnings: angst, references to sex, alcohol

requests: open for social media au's

rest of my work : masterlist

✩ ✩ ✩

It’s for the best. 

And maybe it was, as Y/N stepped out into the cool evening air, her heart feeling heavy from the weight of unspoken words and unfulfilled longing. She couldn’t shake the feeling of emptiness that lingered in her chest—a stark contrast to the usual warmth of Harry’s apartment that she was leaving behind. It now felt cold, just like the look he gave her as he spoke the words she’d wished he never said—it’s for the best. 

With every step away from Harry’s building, Y/N felt like she was taking a step further away from something that she couldn’t quite grasp. The connection never fully materialised. And maybe he was right; maybe it was for the best, but that didn’t make her feel any less stupid. The moments of intimacy they shared now felt like distant memories, replaced by the echoes of their silent exchange. They reverberated in her mind, the thoughts of what could have been and what should have been. She felt silly that she had ever mentioned anything. If she had kept quiet and not let her thoughts lead her astray, she’d still be tangled up in his bed, whispering sweet nothings, and her heart would not hurt as much as it did right now. 

She knew she’d made a mistake. She knew it three months ago when he was asleep in her room, the sound of his hushed snoring keeping her awake as she looked down at him with his arms wrapped around her. If it had been anyone else keeping her up with their laboured breathing, she’d have told them to be quiet, but it was him, and the sound lulled her to sleep every night. It was something she’d grown used to, something she liked hearing, knowing he was only inches away from her and holding onto her like he never wanted to leave. She felt wanted, and she loved it. She loved it, and she knew it was wrong to love it, and now the thought of never hearing it again, well, it felt like a stab in the heart. 

Lost in her thoughts, she found herself wandering aimlessly through the dark streets, the tears on her cheeks glistening in the glow of the streetlights. If anyone had walked past and taken a look at the girl, they would have thought she was crazy. A blubbering mess. And she felt like one too, as she quickened her pace in hopes of rushing home. She needed a release—a cathartic release from the ache in her heart—to go home and scream into her pillow. She wanted to forget everything that had been said in the last hour. To go back to before, when it was casual and she was happy. But she couldn’t because there was no casualty before, and maybe she was never really happy. 

/

 Five days had passed since Y/N had left Harry’s flat, and she had spent those five days in the isolation of her own home, not wanting to leave her, ignoring all the texts she got from the girls. She’d even called in sick to work and Cal and Chip knew something was up, she’d never miss a Fellas shoot. Maybe to some, it might have been a bit of a dramatic reaction, but in truth, Y/N felt like her heart had just been ripped out, chewed up, and spat out. She was allowed to be as dramatic as possible. 

It wasn’t supposed to hurt this much, either. After all, it wasn’t a real relationship; they weren’t boyfriend and girlfriend; there was no label. It was just a fleeting connection built on half-truths and borrowed moments of intimacy. But Y/N was ensnared; in the tangled web of emotions they’d spun around each other, she felt her heart tethered to Harry’s in ways she couldn’t explain. If only Harry had felt the same. 

The girls had had enough. They were worried about Y/N as she kept herself cooped away in the quiet solitude of her bedroom. They knew she was staring blankly at the screen of her phone, watching all their texts pop up, and more than likely reading through the remnants of her text conversations with Harry. They needed to intervene. 

Y/N’s friends, Sabina, Fatih, and Laura, knew all too well the pain she was going through. They saw it first hand over the past few months. While they loved Harry to bits—him being a friend of their boyfriends and a friend to them too—they also loved Y/N, and after seeing her wrapped up in this messy debacle, they knew that she was hurting. With bags full of cheap wine, picky bits of food, and their hearts full of determination, they arrived at Y/N’s doorstep one sunny afternoon. They hadn’t bothered texting her before to let her know they were coming, knowing she’d probably make some silly excuse and manage to worm her way out of their plan.

"Alright, ladies," Sabina declared, setting down her bag of groceries. "Operation Cheer Y/N Up is in full swing."

With a chorus of nods, they exchanged smiles before knocking on the door.

Y/N answered, her eyes weary, but a glimmer of surprise danced across her face at the sight of her friends assembled on her doorstep. God, she was in for a long night. 

"Babe!’’ Faith said, offering her a warm hug. "We come bearing gifts."

Y/N's lips curled into a faint smile as she ushered the girls inside. They made their way to the living room, where blankets were strewn across the couch from where Y/N had set up camp the past few days, indulging in terrible rom-coms. 

They wasted no time in bustling into the kitchen, grabbing four wine glasses and a few plates from her cupboards. Popping open the cheap rose and setting up the snacks, Y/N felt a semblance of normalcy returning. It was nice to see the girls, a reminder that she wasn’t completely alone in this. She had dreaded the thought that she’d have to completely avoid everyone and that they’d all take Harry’s side, but she knew that would have been ridiculous. They were her friends too, and in reality, there were no sides to be taken; it was just between her and him. The group had warned them it was bound to end badly. 

‘’How are you coping?’’ Laura asked, balancing her glass of pink fizz on her leg as she sat cross-legged opposite Y/N.

Y/N let out a sigh. ‘’Truthfully, a lot worse than I thought I’d be. I mean, I know it was nothing serious but-’’

‘’Shut-up.’’ Faith swatted the girl next to her. ‘’It was serious. It’s been what? Six months? That’s basically a relationship.’’

‘’I agree. I moved in with Chip at the four-month mark. Half a year and I’d be thinking I’m getting married and having kids with the boy!’’ Sabina laughed. 

‘’No, I know, but we never started off dating. It was casual from the get-go, and I foolishly caught feelings. I can’t blame him for not feeling the same.’’ Y/N sighed, resting her head on her hand in defeat.

‘’Y/N, there’s nothing silly about catching feelings. You spent half a year with him. It was bound to happen.’’ Laura spoke. 

‘’Literally! There’s no way he could've thought the way he was around you was casual.’’ 

‘’What do you mean?’’ Y/N said with furrowed brows. She’d hoped there were another two bottles of wine in their bags because she felt like she needed them. 

‘’Babe, he was all over you any chance he got. Always talking about you. Ethan told me he was like a broken record on Sidemen shoots, always mentioning you. There’s no way it was casual for him.’’ Faith reassured.

''Well, he pretty much kicked me out; he didn’t even want to have a conversation about it.’’ Y/N spoke, feeling the tears itching at her eyes, but she held them together, not wanting to break down in front of the girls, even if they were her best friends. ‘’Said it was for the best.’’

‘’I can’t believe that!’’ 

‘’Doesn’t even sound like Harry. I bet he just said it in the heat of the moment but probably regrets it.’’

‘’Have you heard from him since?’’

‘’No, nothing.’’ Y/N paused. ‘’I’m not surprised though; it seemed like he was over it all anyways.’’

The girls sat in silence for a moment as they watched their friend, shoulders heavy with the weight of sorrow she was feeling, and all enveloped her in a massive hug.

‘’This calls for a night out!’’ Faith beckoned from the hug. 

‘’I can’t. I don’t want to bump into him yet.’’ Y/N sighed. She didn’t know how she’d react if she saw him. She’d probably want to run out of the bar and back to the only place she’d found comfort in for the past few days—her bed.

‘’Nope, I’m not hearing it.’’ Sabina laughed. ‘’He doesn’t own the place. So what if we bump into him? We need to cheer you up, and 2 for 1 cocktails sound like a good start to me.’’

''Oh, I don’t know-’’

‘’Right, Friday at 7? Let’s meet at the pub.’’

There was no way the girls were going to let her say no. A pub night it was.

✩ ✩ ✩

Harry felt like shit. Complete and utter shit. 

For the past five days, his mind had been a tempest of conflicting emotions and he felt completely weighed down by the burden of guilt. He didn’t even know where it all had gone so wrong. He couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment but he knew it was all his fault. The image of Y/N’s eyes brimming with tears as she left his bedroom was enough to engulf him in a sea of remorse and he couldn’t get her out of his mind.

Unlike Y/N he hadn’t kept himself hushed away in the four walls of his bedroom. Oh no, that was the last place he wanted to be. He hated being in that room. Every trace of her was still visible and it made him feel sick. The smell of her vanilla perfume still on his pillows, her favourite bra in his chest of drawers and the array of jewellery she had left on his bedside table when she rushed off. She was everywhere and it made him feel like shit. 

Instead Harry took every opportunity he could to get out of his flat. Whether it was hours at the gym, drowning his sorrows in the pub or even offering to fill in for Tobi on a Side Plus shoot, he did everything possible to not be home. The boys knew something was up, he’d never offer to do an extra shoot, usually loving his time off. And at the pub too when he returned to his old ways after a few pints and started getting rowdy and mean with them, they knew something was off. They didn’t pry though. They had heard the whispers from their girlfriends that something had gone down between him and Y/N and then knew that more than likely it was his fault. 

He’d never felt like this before either. The feeling in his chest was so alien to him. Even when he had broken up with his ex of two years, the pain in his heart was never this bad. And he had no idea why. 

He missed her, that's the one thing he did know. He missed her laugh like you’d miss a ray of sunlight on a rainy day. He missed her laughter that danced like a melody through the air. He missed her smile that was so bright it could light up any room. The way she’d sing off key in his shower. Or the way she’d turn up after work with food in hand and a bottle of the red wine he loved. He’d even slept on the side of the bed that she’d preferred, it smelled just like her and he missed it. Course, he missed the sex too but that wasn’t just it, he actually craved her as a person. He could have gone out on a night out and pulled any girl he wanted but the thought made him feel sick. He just missed her so much but he just didn’t know why. 

Checking his phone, he saw a text that Chip had sent into the groupchat. Chip : ‘Anyone wanna go pub on friday? 8pm?’

Anywhere was better than home, Harry knew that. So pub on Friday, it was. 

✩ ✩ ✩

Friday had come around way too quickly for Y/N. She felt herself facing a dilemma - she had promised the girls she would join them at the pub, but she couldn’t shake the feeling of dread that coiled like a serpent in the pit of her stomach. She couldn’t think of anything worse than necking a few pints and forcing conversation. And she couldn’t budge the idea that Harry might be there, out of her mind. She didn’t know what she’d do if she came face to face with him. She felt sick at the thought. 

With a resigned sigh, she dragged herself away from the comfort of her cosy flat and stood before the mirror, staring at her reflection with a mixture of resignation and reluctance. The girls insisted the whole night that a night out at the pub would be just what she needed to lift her spirits, to chase away the shadows that lingered in the corners of her mind. And usually she’d be all for it. She loved a night out as much as the next person but it almost felt too soon. She wasn’t sure if she was ready and deep down she knew he’d be there.

As she brushed her hair and applied a coat of ruby red lipstick, she tried to push the thoughts out of her mind. She had especially caked on the concealer in attempts to hide the dark eye bags that had appeared over the last few days. Her outfit was simple, sporting some black flare jeans and a little baby tee, nothing special but she felt comfortable. 

It didn’t take her too long to get to the pub. Just a quick 10 minute walk from her flat and she’d landed outside ‘The Old Queen’s Head’ a local favourite for the group. Sabina and Laura were outside chatting to the security guard and she felt instant relief that she didn’t have to walk in on her own. With a few hugs and kisses on the cheek later, the girls stepped in and went to the bar. 

Y/N felt thankful that when she went in all she could see was a few groups of people she didn't recognise and some old men sat at the bar - he wasn’t there. She had never felt such relief. A few 2 for 1 cocktails later and she found herself relaxing. Maybe it wasn’t so bad. Maybe the last few days in isolation were a bit extreme. It was good to be back with the girls, chatting about future plans and fond memories. It was nice.

An hour had passed and Y/N felt slightly buzzed but relaxed. That was until she looked across the table and saw the two girls opposite with wide eyes as they looked towards the door.

‘’For fuck sakes, I told Josh to not bring him.’’ Sabina sighed. 

‘’Don’t turn around, Y/N.’’ Laura spoke, squeezing Y/N’s hand.

In any other situation that statement would have been vague and Y/N would have had no clue who was behind her but curiosity went a miss, she knew exactly who it was. Of course, he was here. Why wouldn’t he be? He was always at this pub with the group on a Friday - as if this week would have been any different. 

She didn’t dare turn around, feeling frozen on the wooden pub stool. She could hear the chorus of ‘hello’s’ from the boys and she felt sick. Giving a quick smile and a mumbled ‘hi’ back to them, she felt like she was about to faint. With a dizzy mind and sweaty palms, she lifted herself up from her seat, muttering that she needed some air and headed outside with her eyes down, avoiding Harry’s piercing eyes that were focused on her. 

She’d never felt more thankful for the crisp London chill in the air that hit her as she opened the door to leave the pub. The cold sent shivers down her spine and knocked her back to reality. She knew she probably looked like a fool, immediately fleeing the scene as soon as he arrived but she didn’t care. It felt like the walls of the pub were closing in on her and she needed to escape - she knew the girls would understand. 

Propped up against the brick wall, she let out a breath and closed her eyes. Her mind felt like it was moving at a hundred miles per hour, thoughts racing around in her head. How was she supposed to get over this when she could barely be in the same room as him without her heart shattering into millions of pieces. 

She felt defeated and she just wanted to go home and cry. In her own little world, she let her thoughts run wild before she heard a raspy cough next to her, interrupting her inner monologue. She opened her eyes to see who it was but in heart she knew it was him before she could even lay her eyes on him.

‘’Are you alright?’’ Harry spoke softly, running his hands through his hair as he propped himself against the wall next to her. 

She wanted to scream. They hadn’t seen each other in days, the last memory of him being him kicking her out and the first thing he said was ‘Are you alright?’. It was laughable.

‘’Am I alright?’’ Y/N laughed, ‘’Oh, I’m fantastic.’’

Harry so badly wanted to roll his eyes but stopped himself, not wanting to fuel an argument between them. 

‘’I’m sorry.’’ he paused, ‘’I didn’t realise you were going to be here.’’

‘’Me either.’’ She sighed, finding it hard to even look at him, knowing one look into his eyes would send her haywire. ‘’I wouldn’t of come if I’d have known.’’

‘’Y/N, I just want to apologise. I- I shouldn’t have told you to leave that night. I just didn’t know what to say.’’

‘’You don’t need to apologise. I can’t blame you for not feeling the same.

‘’It’s not that I-’’ he stopped himself, ‘’Look, do you think we can talk about this properly? Somewhere more quiet?’’

She looked up at him properly for the first time. He looked worse than she thought would and she’d be lying if it didn’t make her smile. His eyes were darkened with bags, the t-shirt he was wearing looked like it could use an iron and his hair was messy and unkempt. 

‘’Is that your attempt to ruse me back to your apartment? I’m not sleeping with you, Harry.’’

‘’For fuck sake, no.’’ God, he wanted to roll his eyes even more now. ‘’I just want to talk, please, Y/N.’’

‘’Fine.’’ she sighed in defeat. ‘’Just to talk.’’

/

The walk back to Harry’s was quiet. The pair walked side by side in a silence that was unsurprisingly uncomfortable and they couldn’t help but try and ignore the awkward tension hanging between them. 

The street lights cast long shadows on the pavement as they walked next to each other, the sound of their footsteps and cars passing by being the only thing echoing softly in the air. They both stole glances of one another, Y/N noting the way his jaw was clenched slightly and Harry noticing her shaking hands, a sign of the unease that the pair mirrored from one another. 

It felt weird to think that not so long ago the two could barely savour a moment of silence in each other's company, always making each other laugh or telling some bizarre story that the other listened to intently. The silence was deafening and they both felt awful. 

The walk to Harry’s was a familiar route for Y/N and her heart ached as she walked past the places they used to love going. They passed the park where they had their first picnic, the bench where they shared their deepest secrets, and the bar that they shared their first kiss in. Each sight stirred emotions Y/N had hoped she’d be able to bury, adding weight to the silence that hung heavily between them as they knowingly passed their favourite spots.

They reached the front door of Harry’s flat and all Y/N could think about was turning around and running as far away as possible. But before she could muster the courage to speak and say ‘this is a bad idea,’Harry broke the silence. 

‘’Please just come up for a while,’’ Harry sighed knowing that she was regretting coming here with him, he could see it written all over her face. ‘’Just hear me out.’’

Sighing in vanquish, she watched him unlock the door and followed him up the stairs. 

His flat looked the same as it did when she rushed out the door last week only this time she could see it clearly, no tears fogging up her vision. It was messier though, piles of plates and cups filling the sink, a few boxes scattered around and the bin overflowing with rubbish.

She mirrored him as he took a seat on the sofa and she purposely sat as far away from him as possible. She could feel herself on the edge of the sofa and if she had tried to move any further away she more than likely would’ve landed on the floor. 

"Y/N, I... I just wanted to say..." he trailed off, his voice barely above a whisper.

She looked up, meeting his gaze, searching for the words he couldn't seem to find.

"I'm sorry," he finally said, his voice thick with emotion.

Y/N felt tears pricking at the corners of her eyes as she nodded, the weight of his second apology of the night lifting a burden she hadn't realised she'd been carrying. 

"I’ve told you, you don’t need to feel sorry," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the hum of the city outside the window.

‘’No, I do.’’ Harry said, barely meeting her eyes as he played with his hands. ‘’I didn’t mean to tell you to leave, I just didn’t know what to say.’’

‘’And you know what to say now?’’

‘’No- I- ,fuck. It just shocked me, that's all. I’ve never been good with confrontation, even now it makes me feel nervous.’’ he paused, ‘’I never wanted to upset you, I just couldn’t put my feelings into words.’’

‘’Your feelings?’’

‘’Yes. I haven’t been able to sleep since that night. I regret everything I said.’’

‘’But you were right? It is for the best if you don’t feel the same way, Harry.’’ Y/N sighed. ‘’There’s no sugar coating it. You can’t regret what you said if that's how you feel.’’

‘’But it’s not,’’ He wanted nothing more than to reach over and hold her hand, ‘’I can’t sleep because you’re not next to me and it makes me feel strange.’’

‘’You miss the sex? Is that what you’re trying to say?’’ Y/N could barely choke a laugh. 

‘’No, obviously not.’’ Y/N narrowed her eyes at his statement. ‘’Not that I don’t miss that- of course I do. I miss that loads-’’

‘’Harry.’’ she cut him off.

‘’Sorry. What I’m trying to say is I miss you. I miss you so much, Y/N. It’s been a week and I can’t think about anything other than you and I don’t know what that means. I’m so confused.’’ 

Y/N watched him as he blabbered on. If he felt confused then imagine how confused she felt. After a week of thinking he wanted nothing more to do with and now she was hit in the face with his confessions that he missed her. She was baffled.

‘’I’m confused too, Harry. I don't know what you’re trying to say.’’

‘’I’m saying I miss you and the way I’m feeling is something I’ve never felt before. I need you, Y/N.’’ he whispered, barely believing that he was able to get the words out, ‘’I need you so much.’’

Y/N could have died on the spot. Her head was spinning and she knew it was from his confession and not the cheap pornstar martini’s she’d consumed a few hours ago. 

‘’I’ve always needed you, Harry.’’ she spoke softly at the boy who was sitting a foot away from her with his head in his hands.

He smiled up at her, removing his hands from his crown. 

‘’Will you stay with me tonight?’’ Harry asked gently, ‘’I won’t be able to sleep.’’

‘’OK, I’ll stay.’’

-

a/n: going to do another part because i live for this angsty y/n and harry duo. hope you all enjoyed this & thank u for all the love xxx

[rubyxx16]

for the best | harry lewis

summary: in which y/n and harry are in a 'casual' relationship

word count : 2.2k

a/n: this is inspired by the song 'the giver' by sarah kinsley so give it a listen!! hope u enjoy lovelies. super angsty eeeek and i have barely proof read it as i wrote it quite rushed after listening to the song so hope it's ok lol

warnings: angst(no happy ending) , references to sex, alcohol

requests: open <333

rest of my work : masterlist

✩ ✩ ✩

✩ ✩ ✩

In the heart of the bustling city of London, amidst the chatter of late-night pub soirees and neon-lit streets, two individuals found each other in the most unexpected of ways. Y/N and Harry were acquaintances at most, their paths crossing occasionally at a mutual friend’s gathering or crowded house parties. Y/N, being a close friend of Chip and Cal’s, working occasionally behind the scenes with them on their podcast, and Harry, a friend of the fellas, who danced around in friendship circles and was known by nearly everyone - the two were bound to meet at some point. 

There was no denying that the pair shared a mutual attraction for one another. It was a chemistry so undeniable from the moment they met—they were drawn to each other like moths to a flame. And their encounters began innocently enough: casual flirtations and stolen glances exchanged at dimly lit bars and late-night gatherings—there was nothing more to it. Plus, Y/N had heard all the stories about him from their friends. That he’d just gotten out of a two-year relationship and was currently partaking in some debauched lifestyle, and she’d listen in on whispers about it too, that he was 'so good in bed’ but ‘not looking for anything serious’. She wasn’t completely sure if it was something she’d want to get involved in but she enjoyed the playfulness of their flirting nonetheless.

And Y/N was the same. Well, not in the sense that she was going out every night to try and 'score’ herself a good time with someone she’d wake up next to and not remember the name of, but in the sense that she just ended a lengthy relationship and was looking for something new. She knew the feeling of being lonely all too well, and she saw that in Harry. Beyond the way he capered around the bars and made the group laugh, she knew he was just lonely. While she knew deep down that in her heart she was a bit of a romantic and never used to just casually sleeping around, maybe something ‘not so serious’ with someone who was ‘good in bed’ would be something fun to try, something good for her. She was only young after all, and thought it would be a good break from her usual monogamy that she’d had going on for the past, however many years. So she let herself relax and dropped her guard down, allowing his flirtatious advances to be something more. And from there on their initial encounters began.

On one fateful evening, as the city hummed with the promise of excitement, Harry and Y/N found themselves alone as their friends danced and those that were in couples kissed the night away. The space between them crackled with anticipation, and they exchanged their usual playful banter over their glasses, their laughter mingling with the soft strains of jazz music that neither of them had heard before. Both of them knew what was on the other’s mind. With an interaction so heated with desire, burning like a wildfire out of control, and far too many shots of Sambuca mixed with obscene amounts of Long Island Iced Tea, it was bound to happen. It was the first night they ever dared share anything more than words, and as Harry leaned in and pressed his lips to Y/N, they both knew that that one kiss had ignited a spark between them. Finally, it set a flickering flame between them, their hearts ablaze with longing and passion. And without a word or nod to their friends, they had abandoned their drinks and made their way back to Harry’s flat, bodies drawn together like magnets, like crazed teenagers who had just had their first kiss and couldn’t keep their hands off each other. 

That very night, they shared a night of ecstasy, a whirlwind of tangled limbs, and whispered confessions. Revelling in one another’s touch, they explored every inch of skin with a hunger that bordered on desperation. It was raw and intense, a collision of bodies and souls that left them both breathless and yearning for more. 

And as dawn broke and the harsh light of morning filtered through the curtains, Harry and Y/N found themselves tangled in a web of confusion and uncertainty. They were just two strangers, bound together by lust and desire, with no expectations or promises between them. 

That’s how it all started. 

And, Y/N never did mean for it to be anything more than just two people trying to fill the void of a lonely night. But as the night turned to days, days to weeks, and weeks to months, the tryst between them continued, and they met whenever the urge struck. It was usually a text here or there from Harry asking if he could cover over after a night out, to which Y/N would weigh options out in her head but inevitably always reply with a ‘Yes,’. It was a nice arrangement of freedom between them, and the thrill of forbidden passion drove them to new heights. 

Their friends were no strangers to what was going on between the pair. Uneasy glances were shared by the group as Harry and Y/N started leaving nights out early together, friends asking them, ‘Is this what you really want to be doing?’ or ‘You know these sorts of things never end well, right?’ but the pair didn’t care; it was their normal now.

It was different for them. They weren’t like their friends who were settling down and moving into houses with their significant others, some even having babies or getting engaged. They were lonely and just wanted to fill a void for a while—at least till the loneliness went away, they hoped. It was just how their nights went now; this was their routine, their shared intimacy—it was good for the pair. 

But Y/N knew nothing good ever lasts.

She had started to realise that maybe she wasn’t as good as Harry was at the whole casual idea of fun. While it was good for a while, the constant comments from friends about ‘This isn’t going to end well’ and ‘You’re so much better than this, Y/N’ caught up. The once-anxious looks turned to disapproving ones, and Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that had started to form in her like a dark cloud over London in mid-February. She knew all too well that this was no longer a casual idea of fun.

There was nothing casual about their stolen kisses and his fingers playing with her hair. There was nothing casual about their whispered pillow talks about their lifelong dreams and childhood stories. There was nothing casual about his lips pecking her forehead and his hands holding her face like she was the world. And there was nothing casual about the pit in her stomach that she’d feel when she saw him chatting up a girl in a bar—a girl that couldn’t have looked more different to her. 

She realized it wasn’t right that she knew all his deepest, darkest secrets and that he knew hers. That she knew what foods upset his stomach or the way his nose crinkled when he felt nervous. The way he’d tap her thigh two times when they were out with friends to let her know that he wasn’t enjoying himself and wanted to leave. The way he held her as she lay on his lap and cried, his hands soothing her gently, There was nothing casual about it.

Y/N knew she had entered into their arrangement with the understanding that it was nothing more than a casual fling between ‘friends"—a temporary escape from the monotony of everyday life. But as she spent more and more time with Harry, she could see that she was getting more attached to and invested in their relationship than she had ever intended. And she wondered if it was the same for him—if the once lonely void in his heart felt filled by her presence. 

So one night, as they lay naked, tangled together in Harry’s bed, her head pressed on his chest and his hands messing around with her hair, Y/N found herself unable to hold back her emotions of uncertainty any longer. ‘’Harry,’’ she whispers, her voice quiet and shaky with inconstancy. ‘’Can I ask you something?’’

‘’What is it, Y/N?’’ his hand now moving to trace circles on her skin. 

‘’What is this?’’ 

‘’What do you mean?’’ he replies, sitting up slowly in the bed as Y/N’s head falls from his chest, and she’s forced to prop herself up so she’s now facing him.

Pulling the covers around her, Y/N doesn’t think she’s ever felt more vulnerable in her life. With his wide blue eyes staring at her, his flushed face, and his chest bare, she lets out a breath she didn’t even realise she was holding. 

‘’This,’’ she points her finger between the pair, ‘’between us.’’

Harry looks up, his eyes widened by his confusion. "Surely you know by now that we’ve said it thousands of times. It’s casual sex, Y/N,’’ he says with an awkward laugh. A laugh that sends the coldest shiver down Y/N’s spine.

‘’But is it casual anymore?’’ It feels like the temperature has dropped in the room by 10 degrees, and Y/N wishes there was more than a linen sheet covering her. ‘’It’s been six months, Harry.’’

‘’Yes, six months of casual sex,’’ he sighs. ‘’I thought we agreed on this.’’

‘’I know we did, but how is this casual anymore?’’ she pauses. ‘’What’s casual about us spending more days of the week together than apart? Or showing up to meet our friends while holding each other’s hands? The fact that we’ve spent half a year on this? Or the fact that I feel like I know every single thing about you?’’

‘’Y/N, I-’’

‘’No, Harry. There’s nothing casual about this, and you know it.’’

‘’No, I don’t know that, Y/N,’’ he fires back, ‘’we had an agreement,’’

‘’Well, the agreement has gone out the window, Harry.’’

‘’That’s not my fault.’’

‘’I’m not saying it’s your fault,’’ frustration growing as she combs her hands through her hair. ‘’I’m just saying this isn’t the same as when we first started this.’’

He lets out a long exhale, “I feel like you’re making this bigger than it actually is.’’, now shifting himself to the edge of the bed, almost as if he’s trying to get as far away from her as possible. To hide from her sudden confrontation.

‘’Well, I feel like you have no clue how I feel,’’ she exhales. ‘’Have you not heard what our friends think about this whole thing?’’

‘’When have we ever cared what our mates think?’’ he groans, standing up from the bed to pick up a pair of shorts and a t-shirt that they had discarded on the floor no so long ago.

And in that moment, it felt like between them stood an invisible wall. An intangible barrier crackling with tension. Each glance exchanged across the divide carried the weight of unspoken words, a silent plea from Y/N for understanding that was only left unanswered by Harry. Despite their proximity, it was clear the pair remained worlds apart, separated by the impenetrable fortress of their own insecurities and fears. And as Harry stood and Y/N remained on the bed in defeat, the tension hung heavy, bouncing off the four walls that formed Harry’s bedroom.

Y/N couldn’t even muster a reply, feeling too tired to even argue. She wasn’t going to get anywhere. He was set in stone by the fact that what the pair shared over the course of a half-year was nothing more than casual. And maybe it was all Y/N’s fault that she had started to feel like there was something more than what he said there was, but she knew deep down it couldn’t have been all her fault. She knew it was him, too. With his whispered sentiments, caring touches, and shared moments and kisses in places only a lover should dare to kiss, she knew it was him too. 

Harry realises she’s got nothing more to say as he looks down at her, sitting bare in his bed, her eyes wide and pleading.

Clearing his throat, he knows he’ll regret it in the morning but continues, ‘’Y/N, I think it’s best if you leave.’’ 

And Y/N feels like her heart falls from out of her chest. She’d not anticipated him asking her to leave. She hadn’t even anticipated the fact that he would be so adamant in the fact that there was nothing more than sex between the pair; she was unprepared and left defeated.

They share no words as Y/N scampers to find her abandoned clothing, and Harry stands awkwardly by the corner of the bed, turning around while she dresses, despite having seen it all before a hundred times. 

And with one parting look, Y/N reaches his door, giving him one last glance with parted lips. She’s desperate to say something, but no words come out. If her lips could open, she’d scream and tell him what she really wants to say, but they don't.

‘’It’s for the best.’’ he whispers, as she’s half way out the door, and as she goes to leave his apartment, she barely notices the tears that fill up her eyes and fall gently down her face.

And in that moment, she knew that Harry was nothing more than a lonely boy, his heart still empty and her presence wasted on him. The sound of his blinking eyes, his soothing hands, his beating heart, and the way he moved were all just a waste of time. 

It’s for the best.

-

a/n: super angsty harry & y/n piece for you all!!! hope u all enjoy. might do a part 2 cos i'm a sucker for a happy ending so let me know if thats something you'd be interested in. thanks for reading & i really appreciate all the likes and reblogs xxx

[rubyxx16]

Not tumblr giving me hints. 👀

[rubyxx16]

Okay Gramps - Chris Evans x Reader

Summary: Chris isn’t happy his iPhone 6s finally died

Word count: 663

Warnings: Fluff! Implied Age Gap! Pregnancy! Teasing!

Masterlist

You and Chris didn’t often fight and if you did it was generally over something minor, like leaving the toilet seat up, or not putting clothes in the hamper.

However the most reoccurring argument was over his phone that was so old that it functioned more as a metal brick than an actual phone. You had begged him for years to update it, saying it was not worth the nightly battle just to get it to charge, or the poor battery life.

However he just took it to the nearest Apple store to get it repaired. That process repeating until the Apple store refused to repair it because they didn’t have parts anymore because it was that old.

You were certain he’d spent more on getting it repaired than it would cost to just buy a new phone.

You finally won the battle though when you got pregnant and with your due date only getting closer you told him it was not safe for him to be unreachable because his phone’s charge wouldn’t last an hour. The last thing you wanted while going into labour was calling all his friends and family trying to track him down.

However he was probably the only person on earth that wasn’t excited to get a new phone.

“I don’t like the lack of buttons” he huffs as he looks at his new iPhone 13.

“It makes it sleeker and gives you a bigger screen” you point out.

“I guess but I don’t really like the face scan thing either, doesn’t seem safe” he mumbles as he goes through the setting up process.

You roll your eyes at him “they have privacy systems in place, and you were perfectly fine with them having your fingerprint” you point out nodding to his old phone.

“Yeah but what if hackers can access it, they have our faces on file, they could make fake identities” Chris argues shaking his head.

“Oh boy just you wait until you find out about driver’s licenses and all that” you say sarcastically, running your hand over your bump, feeling the baby kick your hand “see even the baby thinks you’re being ridiculous”

Chris rolls his eyes letting out a small huff of a laugh. But still lets out a long sigh as he frowns down at his new phone.

You reach out taking his hand in yours squeezing it reassuringly “look I know you hate tech and thinks its all over complicated nowadays, and i’ll be honest I agree with you to a certain extent” you tell him getting him to look over at you “but you’ll get used to the new phone just like you did with your old one all those centuries ago” you add with a smirk.

Chris finally lets out a good laugh at that, smiling over at you “yeah you’re right, and I have to remind myself its for this one here” he sighs reaching over to rest his large hand over your bump.

“Exactly and think of all the cute non grainy photos you’ll take” you smile watching at his smile grows wider.

“Yeah I can’t wait” he grins leaning over to kiss you.

Just like you said it didn’t take long for Chris to get used to his new phone, he was almost like an excited kid once he found out all the cool features. Often running over to you to show you the adorable photo he’d just taken of Dodger.

“Look how clear it is! You can see every detail! And his eyes!” Chris exclaims as he shows you the most recent photo he took of dodger.

“See tech isn’t so scary after-all” you smirk kissing him on the cheek.

“I never said I was scared of it” Chris huffs rolling his eyes at you.

“Okay gramps” you laugh.

Chris arches a brow at you shaking his head “you’re lucky I love you” he says as he kisses your cheek.

“I love you too” you laugh

-💙📱💙-

Sharing is caring so please reblog if you enjoyed this!!

Masterlist

I don’t have a taglist so follow @secretswiftymarvelfanlibrary and turn on post notifications for updates!

[rubyxx16]

𝐦𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞

summary: y/n has an event to get to last minute, so steve has to take care of his daughter at work. in the universe of this one shot (read before)

pairings: dad!mafia/gang!steve rogers x wife!reader

warning: none just fluff!

-

Today has just been a day. You have no excuse except  for the fact that it slipped your mind and when your calendar notified you, an hour and a half before the event started your mind began to scramble. 

Steve’s parents can’t watch Elysia because they have a date night. They offered to cancel, but you couldn’t ask them to do that. Natasha was out of town. You had even asked the babysitter, but it was too last minute for her. So, there’s one last option.

“Hey doll, you girls alright?” Steve smiles into his phone, happy to hear your voice. 

“Hi, baby” you beamed, brushing on highlighter while keeping a careful eye on your daughter. Elysia was chilled out on your bed, entranced in an episode of Paw Patrol.

 “Look, I’m really sorry, it slipped my mind, but I have an event to get to in a few. And there’s no one to keep an eye on Elsie. Can I drop her off to you?”

“Yeah, of course. I've been missing her a little extra today anyway.” 

You sigh in relief, “I love you, you’re the best” you tell him, sending a kiss through the phone. 

-

It’s at least twenty-five minutes later until your heels are clicking against the lobby’s marble floor. Elysia’s designer baby bag is slung over your shoulder and your two-year-old is sitting on your hip as the two of you walk to Steve’s office. 

You knock on the door twice, before you pull it open. As you enter, Steve’s head shoots up, then an affectionate smile graces his face at the sight of his favorite girls. 

“Daddy!” Elysia cheers with grabby hands towards her father. 

Steve walks over to greet the two of you; kissing Elysia’s cheek and neck, chuckling as she squirms because his facial hair is ‘ticklish’, before he brings her into his hold. 

And before you know it, Steve brings his lips down onto yours. All while removing the baby bag from your shoulders. When he pulls away, he’s whistling with ardor as he spins you to give himself a 360 of what’s his. 

Your body is flawlessly dressed in a customized cream suit with gold buttons. The coat wraps  around you to accentuate your waist and breast, your pants hug your ass perfectly. As the pants flare out as they go down your leg. He loves how the diamond necklace and earrings he bought as one of your push gifts make your eyes twinkle.  

Your cheeks heat up at the way he fawns over you. Many years later and you’d never get used to it. 

When he stops you, his hand tugs your body to his, “You look..exquisite” he husks, squeezing your hand. “Mommy looks exquisite, doesn't she?” he asks Elysia who responds with an exaggerated nod. 

“Look Quiz-it!” she garbles the tough word out

“Thank you, you two. But I have to head out if I want to make it on time.”

“Where are you headed anyway?”

“Maggie is throwing something for her launch,” you answer while fixing a boggle in Lys’ hair that held one of her space buns. “I promised I’d be there. I like this tie, it matches your eyes perfectly” 

Your hand runs over the patterned blue tie. You didn’t get to see him this morning, as you usually do. He slipped out before the sun even came out, with just a kiss to your cheek as his ‘see you later’ so he wouldn’t disturb your sleep. 

“Thank you. Drive safe and be safe, Joseph will be right behind you.”

You groan. He lavished the trait of overprotectiveness. There was one instance where you had begged and begged to roam free without anyone on your tail. It didn’t end well. 

“Non-negotiable, text me when you arrive safely” he reminds you, grasping your chin for a kiss. 

“Bye baby, I'll see you soon. Be good” you kiss her before pinching her chubby cheeks. 

As the door shuts softly behind you, Steve and Elysia are stood in his expansive offices hands up in a wave. “Looks like it’s just me and you, baby doll, are you hungry?”

“No” she responds.

“Okay, would you mind if daddy worked for a little bit more?”

“It’s okay” she lisps. 

-

Elysia is settled on her father’s lap, Steve’s phone in her tiny hands as she watches ‘The Princess and the Frog’. Occasionally her big eyes roam over the big screens on her father’s desk. 

With his little girl present, Steve isn’t able to complete any of his gruesome tasks, just the light stuff with no pictures or videos.

“Daddy?” Elysia calls for him, her head tucked back. 

“Babydoll?,” he answers, looking down. 

“I’m thirsty, do you ‘ave apple juice?” 

“Do I have apple juice? Do I-- are you kidding, how could you ask that.” while he throws his whole spiel, loving the wide smile on her face. His hand discreetly opens the mini fridge under his desk. It’s always packed with what she enjoys. He pulls out a juice box, and presents it to her like a magic trick. 

“Yay!” she giggles, clapping her hand in glee before she grasps the juice box in both hands eagerly, in turn dropping her father’s phone to the ground. “Oops” she murmurs at the sound of the clatter. 

“It’s alright, just remember to be careful next time” he responds, picking up the newest model. 

Some time passes before Elysia grows bored and begins to squirm and whine. 

He picks her up, placing each foot on his thigh. 

“What’s up, why are you so crabby?,” he coos, running his forefinger down the slope of her warmed up nose while the other hand holds her up by her waist. 

“Wanna play” she bounces her legs, pointing behind her. 

He sighs, checking his watch: 6:03pm. Under twenty minutes until his meeting. So, they play to her heart's desire. He has a few of her favorite things stashed away so he pulls those out after shrugging off his coat. 

Now, he’s sat criss-cross applesauce getting berated by his toddler and thankfully y/n has texted that she’s arrived safely. 

“No, daddy! I’m the chef.”

“Okay, okay. Can I order an orange juice and sandwich, please” he orders through the small window of her Little Tikes play kitchen. 

“Seven thousand dollars,” she tells him, hand out. 

“Prices are a little steep, don't you think?” he jokes, but forgets it’s his two-year-old he’s talking to. “Tough crowd,” he continues, before dropping the fake, blue credit card into her hands. 

“Hmm.” she hums while she thinks, “No monies. No food” she tells him this reproachfully, her eyebrows knit together as she drops the card in his hands. 

“What?” he gawks, “You’re gonna let daddy starve?” 

She sighs before dropping a banana into his palm, “Thank you, babydoll” he smiles, kissing her cheek through the screen as she giggles, her hard chef mask breaking through. 

“Daddy, I don’t wanna play any more.”

“Yea? What do you want to do?”

“Stickers! Stickers! Stickers!” she chants to a tune, walking around to her father. 

-

Against his will, Steve is still sitting on the floor and his toddler stands before him. One of her tiny fists holds a sheet of glittery Lisa Frank stickers while the other places them on his face.

“Cat or tiger?” she asks, bending her head down. 

“Tiger”

She beams, placing it on the middle of his forehead, then kisses it for good measure. 

There’s an incessant buzz in the air. His phone against his presidential, dark wood desk. He goes to it immediately to see it’s a call from Bucky, therefore noticing the time. He’s ten minutes late. Steve Rogers is never late. 

“Shit.” he mutters, ignoring the call to begin peeling off the stickers in a haste. 

“Bad word, daddy!”

“Sorry, baby, sorry” he responds in a haste, when he’s sure his face is bare. He pockets his phone, shrugs on his coat, grabs his binder, and picks up Elysia as he dashes to the elevator. 

-

“Hi uncle bucky! Hi uncle sam!” Elysia bounces at the sight of her god fathers, waving at the two as she walks by on her father’s hip. 

Steve walks in stoically, there was no way in hell he’d let his men enjoy him coming in flustered and out of sorts. Everyone was in attendance, and sat in their respective seats. When he begins to settle down and start the meeting there’s laughter in the air. 

“The fu--” he stops himself, taking a deep breath. “Would anyone mind letting me in on what’s so hysterical?”

‘The fuck are you clowns laughing at’ is what he really wanted to say. 

“You gotta..” Bucky stops to gather himself, a smirk on his face. “Got a little something there,” he points at his own jaw as a mirror. 

Steve sighs, attempting to find the bright, pink, glittery sticker on his face when his little one speaks up, “I’ve got it, daddy” she peels it off easily and places it on her own cheek. 

“Thank you, babydoll,” he kisses her hand before taking a seat at the head of the expansive table. Placing her on his lap and passing her a small bag of goldfish with her water bottle. Elys has pinky promised to be on her best behavior and Steve had promised that he’d make sure the meeting wouldn’t go as long as they usually do. 

“Okay. As you can see we have a special lady with sensitive ears joining us today. Please keep your language clean and appropriate, however hard that may be.” Steve dictates, taking a glance at every man in this room to not take his words lightly. 

The meeting drags on, they don’t have much of a choice to discuss some matters at hand. But these men are smart and know how to improvise…

“Uh, sunshine (Lloyd) was last seen at a recital (strip club) selling kool aid (drugs) to any of the girls that would take it. We assume it’s his way to sabotage the opening by… you know.” Tony flairs his hand around as a jester. 

Before Steve is able to respond, a smaller voice gets to it, “Daddy, I love kool-aid. Alot alot alot!” 

Steve chuckles at her cuteness. 

Throughout the meeting everyone is meant to talk over and ignore the children's songs emitting from Steve’s phone. And the light, cute voice that sings along to some of them. 

A pack of goldfish later with half a bottle of Elysia’s water. Steve keeps his promise to keep the meeting short, concise, and kid-friendly. Well-sorta, there was one slip up but Steve was quick to cover Elysia’s precious ears and stare down the incompetent imbecile.

He’s packing his things up, putting his notes and papers in order while his little girl giggles at her uncle Sam’s magic tricks: pulling a silver coin from her ear. 

It’s her favorite and will get a laugh from her every time. 

In no time, it’s just him and Ly descending via elevator. Steve has decided they both have had a long day, and going home early for once wouldn’t kill him. It was seven in the afternoon anyway, close to her bedtime. 

He knows she’s had a long day when one of her small arms is wrapped over his neck as her head is tucked against the side of his neck. 

He can’t lie that the thought of sleep sounds good to him. He knows you won’t be home till a little later. But he can’t until you’re home so he can cuddle into you as you both drift off. 

“We’ll be home pretty soon,” he kisses her forehead just as the elevator dings! 

-

“Okay,” Steve sighs as he enters through the familiar emerald doors, placing the baby bag onto the coat rack. His dress shoes are toed off with speed and just as quick he pulls off his baby’s shoes. 

He sets her down in the living room taking a seat on the couch.

“Daddy, I’m hungry,” she squeaks, walking over to the remote to bring to her father who understands her demand. 

“Does a PB and J sound alright?”

“Mmmm” she drones on, her hands rubbing against her clothed stomach. 

The sandwich is assembled at her request. Crust off the toasted bread and a little bit of honey drizzled on top of the peanut butter. 

Elysia sits on Steve’s lap as she nibbles on her sandwich. Steve is dressed down in just his slacks and wife beater; braiding Elysia’s hair in two as she watches ‘Little Bear’ and eats her sandwich.

He struggles to do so at first, until y/n’s voice swims through his head. Reminding him what he needs to do. 

As Lys chews and her father braids, she holds up half her sandwich in offer behind her. He smiles as he takes a small bite, smiling and moaning about how yummy it is and how thankful he is for her sharing. Then he kisses her cheeks, nipping in jest. 

Once he’s finished braiding Elysia‘s hair and Elysia is done eating her food. She scrambles up until she’s latching onto her father. Her arms are thrown around his neck while her legs clamber to wrap around him. 

Her cuddles are like sleeping sand to the mob boss. He rubs her back as he leans down parallel to the couch, his sock feet hanging off the arm of the couch. 

“I love you baby doll. Best thing to happen to me and your momma.” he whispers, placing three kisses to her forehead. 

“Love you” she slurs while her soft hand lands onto his cheek. 

Without even knowing, his eyes are shut as his breath evens out and his arm circles around his angel’s body to keep her from rolling off of him. 

-

It was a great time. You were happy you got to support Maggie on her big day, but you missed your husband and the rambunctious little girl you were graced to raise. 

You remove your heels, hissing as your sore feet hit the hardwood floor. The house is quiet as you toe into the house. You can see the living room light is on. You assume Steve has kept it on for you just as you do for him and it makes your heart sing. 

As you walk in, to shut off the warm lamp, your heart really does sing at the picture perfect image: The father-daughter duo are knit together as they step in dream land together. 

His brawny arm is wrapped around her body and his mouth is dropped open in a way you think is adorable. It makes the intimidating man everyone else sees morph into the wonderful, sensitive man you’ve married. 

They’re still dressed in their day clothes, but nothing could ruin the cuteness overload. 

You tiptoe towards the two, leaning over them as your hand runs through Steve’s hair, the other down his free arm. 

He startles awake and his grip tightens on Elysia a little bit, but his body relaxes once he sees it’s you and smiles. 

“Hey, seems like you two had a good day,” you whisper, your hand running over the braids Elysia adorned, those were not there before. 

“We did,” he puckers his lips, and you lean down to peck him. “How was your night, have fun?” 

His hoarse voice is like music to your ears.

“It was great. Missed you two a lot though. Thought of you and that sexy tie all night.”

He smirks at your shallow attempt, a glass box if you will. 

“Yeah? I’ll finish getting her to bed and then we can discuss my sexy  tie.”

“Perfect. Can’t wait,” you giggle warmly, kissing him one more time before you stroll to your shared bedroom. 

He watches the way you saunter away, and if it weren’t for his baby in his arms he’d probably tackle you right then and there. But with much restraint he’s up and on his way to Elysia’s bedroom. 

-

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[rubyxx16]

Okay Gramps - Chris Evans x Reader

Summary: Chris isn’t happy his iPhone 6s finally died

Word count: 663

Warnings: Fluff! Implied Age Gap! Pregnancy! Teasing!

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You and Chris didn’t often fight and if you did it was generally over something minor, like leaving the toilet seat up, or not putting clothes in the hamper.

However the most reoccurring argument was over his phone that was so old that it functioned more as a metal brick than an actual phone. You had begged him for years to update it, saying it was not worth the nightly battle just to get it to charge, or the poor battery life.

However he just took it to the nearest Apple store to get it repaired. That process repeating until the Apple store refused to repair it because they didn’t have parts anymore because it was that old.

You were certain he’d spent more on getting it repaired than it would cost to just buy a new phone.

You finally won the battle though when you got pregnant and with your due date only getting closer you told him it was not safe for him to be unreachable because his phone’s charge wouldn’t last an hour. The last thing you wanted while going into labour was calling all his friends and family trying to track him down.

However he was probably the only person on earth that wasn’t excited to get a new phone.

“I don’t like the lack of buttons” he huffs as he looks at his new iPhone 13.

“It makes it sleeker and gives you a bigger screen” you point out.

“I guess but I don’t really like the face scan thing either, doesn’t seem safe” he mumbles as he goes through the setting up process.

You roll your eyes at him “they have privacy systems in place, and you were perfectly fine with them having your fingerprint” you point out nodding to his old phone.

“Yeah but what if hackers can access it, they have our faces on file, they could make fake identities” Chris argues shaking his head.

“Oh boy just you wait until you find out about driver’s licenses and all that” you say sarcastically, running your hand over your bump, feeling the baby kick your hand “see even the baby thinks you’re being ridiculous”

Chris rolls his eyes letting out a small huff of a laugh. But still lets out a long sigh as he frowns down at his new phone.

You reach out taking his hand in yours squeezing it reassuringly “look I know you hate tech and thinks its all over complicated nowadays, and i’ll be honest I agree with you to a certain extent” you tell him getting him to look over at you “but you’ll get used to the new phone just like you did with your old one all those centuries ago” you add with a smirk.

Chris finally lets out a good laugh at that, smiling over at you “yeah you’re right, and I have to remind myself its for this one here” he sighs reaching over to rest his large hand over your bump.

“Exactly and think of all the cute non grainy photos you’ll take” you smile watching at his smile grows wider.

“Yeah I can’t wait” he grins leaning over to kiss you.

Just like you said it didn’t take long for Chris to get used to his new phone, he was almost like an excited kid once he found out all the cool features. Often running over to you to show you the adorable photo he’d just taken of Dodger.

“Look how clear it is! You can see every detail! And his eyes!” Chris exclaims as he shows you the most recent photo he took of dodger.

“See tech isn’t so scary after-all” you smirk kissing him on the cheek.

“I never said I was scared of it” Chris huffs rolling his eyes at you.

“Okay gramps” you laugh.

Chris arches a brow at you shaking his head “you’re lucky I love you” he says as he kisses your cheek.

“I love you too” you laugh

-💙📱💙-

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