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tkwrites · 25 days ago

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Happy Halloween! - Quinn Hughes x ofc

Title: Happy Halloween!

Author: Tory / @tkwrites

Relationship: Quinn Hughes x Sarah Roberts (ofc)

Warnings: None, it's just some silly, kitschy fun.

Summary: Quinn and Sarah plan for and attend the Canucks team Halloween Party

Word Count: 2,800

Comments: Happy Halloween!

I wasn’t originally planning to write this fic, but an idea lodged itself in my brain after listening to Feed My Frankenstein by Alice Cooper on one of my friends Halloween playlists. It’s kitschy and cheesy, more than a little ridiculous and very, very fanfiction-y. But it turned out so cute and I love it. I hope you do, too!

If you've never heard Feed My Frankenstein before, give it a listen so you can get the vibe.

If you enjoyed this Snapshot, please consider commenting, reblogging, or sending in an ask about it. I love talking with you!

Happy Halloween!

A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot

“So I’ve been thinking,” Sarah said as they were on the phone one night.

“About what?” Quinn asked.

“About Halloween.”

A laugh bubbled out of his chest, “isn’t it a little early for that?” The season hadn’t even started. There were just two short weeks before he’d be back in Vancouver, and three and a half weeks before she’d move into his apartment. His stomach filled with giddy butterflies every time he thought of it.

“It’s a big deal for you guys, right?”

“Well, I mean, we have a big party. But, last year, I bought my costume the day before.” He didn’t mention that he’d broken things off with June for good the week before the party and had to scramble to find a costume on his own.

She made a humming noise.

“We can do it earlier if you want,” he said.

“From what Bella told me, people go all out,” she said. “We don’t have to. I just thought I’d throw it out while I have the mental capacity to plan a costume.”

“No,” he pushed himself up to sit against the headboard, “let’s talk about it. Did you have something in mind?”

“Nothing I have my heart set on,” she said, “but I had a few ideas.”

“Okay, shoot.”

“I want to hear yours, too.”

“I just started thinking about this two minutes ago, so I don’t have any idea, yet, but if I think of one, I’ll let you know,” he said, his smile teasing

Sarah rolled her eyes.

“What are your ideas?” he prompted.

“Well, we could do Captain America and Agent Carter,” she offered, “Or I thought the casual look of him and Black Widow from Winter Soldier, with the baseball hat and glasses, when she’s in the hoodie?”

“Okay,” he nodded, “I like the second one. We wouldn’t even have to go shopping for that.”

She giggled. She’d thrown that one in precisely because she knew he’d like it. It was her fallback if none of the others stuck.

“And then I thought about Zombies. Like, we could have someone do skull makeup.”

Quinn winced. “I really don’t want to do face paint. Brock did it last year, and he was finding blue paint all over for days.”

She figured that was the case but thought she’d shoot her shot anyway. “Okay. My last idea was to go as Drs. Grant and Stattler from Jurassic Park.”

“That one wouldn’t be too hard, either.”

“Khaki shorts and button ups,” she agreed.

“And hiking boots,” he mused. It sounded like the most comfortable outfit to him. “The rookies could wear those blow-up dinosaur costumes,” he said with a snort.

Sarah barked a laugh, “we could recreate the arrival scene in your jeep.”

“If we do that, I’m renting a Jurassic Park jeep.”

She’d mostly been kidding about the arrival scene. “I mean, if you want to.”

He beamed over the FaceTime connection. “I think we should do it.” It was a unique costume of something he actually liked, and he could involve some of the guys who didn’t have partners or didn’t want to think about finding costumes. Tanev had done that for him his first year, and it’d been a lifeline he hadn’t known he needed.

So they got to planning, buying the outfits and accessories. He spent way too much money on some cosplay recreation of Dr. Grant's hat Sarah found on Etsy.

After scouring the internet and going on fan forums, Quinn found a local guy who had built a few replica jeeps. He also happened to be a huge Canucks fan, so when Quinn got in contact and told him who he was and what they were trying to do, the guy was eager to help and even offered to drive so drop them off at the party to make the scene a little more realistic.

Dane picked them up a block from their apartment. Thankfully, the sky was clear.

He was all in. He even had the hat and sunglasses the driver wore in the movie. His wife tagged along, sitting in the backseat with Quinn, and they chatted as they drove. He’d tried to pay them, but Dane had refused, saying it was an honor. He slipped Andi an envelope with some rental money and tickets to a home game anyway.

They were headed to a private event space a ways outside the city for the party, and Quinn had organized for everyone to be outside for their arrival. He’d invited some of the single guys to dress up as the dinosaurs they’d be awed at. Silovs jumped on it, not having much experience with Halloween, and eventually, Hoglander and Aman jumped in, too.

It wasn’t a whole herd of brontosaurus, but it was better than nothing. And Quinn felt better, making sure those guys felt included in a tradition they didn’t grow up with, especially at an activity that was generally so partner focused.

He’d asked Bella to film it. They were putting so much work into it, he wanted to have some sort of record. Plus, he knew his family would want to see it. His grandpa was the first person Quinn watched Jurassic Park with, and Quinn knew he’d especially enjoy it.

When they pulled up and everyone turned to look at them, Sarah felt an instant fit of giggles overtake her. Forcing herself to look at the large, plastic monstera leaf she was holding, she tried to hold it in.

Just like he asked, the guys dressed as dinosaurs were at the front of the crowd. All three of them wore different costumes. Hoglander was in a ridiculous fabric dilophosaurus costume, while Aman was in a dinosaur onesie. Silovs was in the inflatable T-Rex costume Quinn had sent them as an example. He wasn’t too surprised. It allowed him a certain amount of anonymity, which Quinn knew the shy goaltender appreciated.

He was worried he would look incredibly unnatural doing this whole thing, but found it actually came quite easily. It’s not like he was making a fool of himself on national television. These were his teammates.

The fact that he had a girlfriend nerdy enough to go in on this bit with him made it all that much easier. They were making fools of themselves together. While June would have done this with him, she would have taken it incredibly seriously and had a three person camera crew on location to get the best shots and reactions so she could post it on her socials.

When the Jeep came to a stop, and everyone looked over at them, Quinn threw off his hat and stood on the seat before shakily removing his sunglasses.

The whole team started to laugh, but he could tell most of them were impressed with their commitment to the bit.

Sarah was prattling on about the fauna in her hand, and he reached over to turn her head. Still trying not to laugh, she tore off her sunglasses and stood up, mouth agape.

They both scrambled out of the car, walking up to their small herd.

Quinn turned to her, the hand still holding his sunglasses waving, “It’s…It’s a dinosaur.”

“Uh hu,” Sarah agreed, barely holding herself together with everyone else laughing and cheering.

“Welcome — to Jurassic Park!” someone yelled in a very bad British accent.

Sarah lost her composure, laughter peeling out of her mouth in hearty guffaws.

Quinn turned back to thank Dane, who said it was a pleasure before he saluted and drove away.

“That was so good!” Meghan exclaimed, gathering Sarah into a hug. She was dressed as a beach-goer with a very realistic bite taken out of her arm. Conor was in a shark onesie. “I can’t believe you got Huggy to do that whole thing.”

“The arrival bit was actually his idea.”

“Really?”

Sarah nodded, “he’s secretly kind of a nerd.”

She laughed, knowing full well how much of a nerd he was. There was a reason he and Conor got along so well.

Walking into what Sarah knew must be a ballroom, she was a bit surprised at all the decor. The space was completely transformed. Decorated to look like a spooky forest, there was a fog machine and strobing lights and a bartender aptly dressed as a werewolf.

“How much did you guys pay for this?” she asked.

Quinn shrugged and pointed out the karaoke stage set up in the corner. “Will we get to hear you sing tonight?” he asked, slipping an arm around Sarah’s waist.

She let the subject drop. It wasn’t the way she’d spend her money, but she didn’t have the excess of it most people in this room did. “Maybe once I get a few drinks in me. I’m way too sober to make a fool of myself in front of your teammates.”

His eyes were alight with the memory of her singing in Nevada. She’d been good. Well, as good as someone tipsily singing Time of the Season can be. Mostly, it had been fun to see that looser side of her.

The party was fairly chill. An open bar with themed cocktails and lots of dancing. Once everyone was a bit more tipsy, thanks to the jello shots that were passed around, Conor started the karaoke with a horribly off-key rendition of Ghostbusters. Meghan went next singing, Look What You Made Me Do.

The rookies were encouraged (read: forced) up on stage to perform Everybody (Backstreets Back). Sarah felt bad for them. Most didn’t even speak English as a first language and were now being forced to sing an awful song from an outdated boyband she wasn’t sure any of them had even heard before.

A few more songs were sung as Sarah caught up with Bella. She and Brock were dressed as Fred and Daphne from Scooby Doo. It was an excellent fit for them. Bella looked killer in her little purple dress and white go-go boots, and the 70s style fit Brock better than Sarah would have previously thought. Then again, it was pretty difficult to make him look bad.

“What is this?” Bella asked when a hair metal guitar solo rang through the speakers.

“I’m pretty sure it’s Feed My Frankenstein by Alice Cooper.”

When Bella gave her a surprised look, Sarah explained, “my dad loved metal and shock rock. We used to sing it together all the time.”

The intro started again instead of continuing on and Sarah turned, wondering why no one was singing yet.

Quinn was standing right behind her, a shit eating grin on his face as he held out a microphone.

Her laugh rang through the karaoke speakers. Shaking her head, she backed up.

“Oh, come on, you know you want to,” Quinn encouraged, before starting to chant, “Sar-ah! Sar-ah!”

People immediately joined in.

“Oh, please?” Bella begged from beside her. “I wanna see you get your metal on!”

The alcohol singing in her veins transformed her trepidation into courage. Snatching the mic, she sauntered onto stage, feeling a kind of performance alter ego take root.

Slipping the mic into the stand, she said, “you owe me, Hughes.”

He laughed.

The intro started again, and she pulled out her ponytail, flipping her head upside down to shake out her hair. Someone wolf whistled.

She flipped her hair back up, grabbed the mic stand to pull the mic to her mouth, and yelled, “Feed my Frankenstein.”

Surprised, Quinn’s eyes blew wide. He knew Sarah loved karaoke. She’d told him, as had her best friend Beth. And he’d even seen it first hand in Nevada, but this was different.

Swinging her hair and hips grinding with the music, she didn’t sing so much as yell in tune. It was obviously a song she knew well. He’d known she would - Beth had sent him a list of some songs she knew Sarah wouldn’t be able to resist.

Pointing right at him and tilting her head in a sort of predatory way, she sang,

“Dude!” Conor yelled, clapping Quinn on the shoulder.

I'm a hungry man

But I don't want pizza

I'll blow down your house

And then I'm gonna eat ya

Bring you to a simmer

Right on time

Run my greasy fingers

Up your greasy spine

He was too stunned to respond. He’d heard the song before, from watching Wayne's World, but hearing the lyrics come out of her mouth gave them a whole different meaning.

Feed my Frankenstein

Meet my libido

“She's a psycho"

Not that he was complaining. It was incredible to see Sarah let loose like this.

Feed my Frankenstein

Hungry for love and it's feeding time

It was most surprising to him that her seemingly mild-mannered, engineer father liked music like this and had shared it with his daughter.

In the interlude, Sarah decided she might as well commit, and making her way off the stage, she walked right to Quinn. The crowd parted, all cheering. If she was going to do it, she was going to do it right.

Velcro candy, sticky sweet

Make my tattoos melt in the heat

Well, I ain't no veggie

Like my flesh on the bone

Alive and lickin' on your ice cream cone

She was glad to see a few people had their phones out. At least she’d be able to see just how much of an ass she was making of herself later.

“Yeah, Sarah!” someone yelled from her left, “show him who’s boss!”

That almost broke her, and she lost her composure for a moment, looking into Quinn's eyes and giggling. It was hard to want to seduce him while he still had that ridiculous hat on.

She growled that last bit into his ear as she tore off the hat and threw it into the crowd.

Meet my libido

“She's such a psycho"

He let out a surprised laugh and someone whooped.

Holding him by the front of the shirt, she pulled him with her as she got back on stage.

Feed my Frankenstein

Hungry for love and it's feeding time

Quinn went willingly, finding his heart pounding a little harder than he expected.

She finished the last riffs with a few last whips of her hair and lowered the mic.

Quinn turned her around, and she took a dramatic bow, laughing all the while. It wasn’t until he led her off the stage and the adrenaline rush of being in front of the crowd began to ebb away that she realized exactly what had just happened.

Resting her forehead on the front of Quinns shoulder, she moaned, “I can’t believe I just did that.”

He laughed, running his hand up and down her back, “I can’t really either. I had no idea you felt so passionately about Alice Cooper.”

She was blushing furiously as she pulled away, a playful glare on her face, “I’ll have you know I used to sing that song in front of my mirror when I was little. Twelve year old me thought it was very scandalous.”

Laughing, he leaned in to kiss her. “You did good.”

“Now you have to get up there,” she said.

“No.”

“Yes,” she argued.

“I paid my dues as a rookie. I’m never doing that again.”

“You’re no fun.”

“I’m lots of fun.”

She rolled her eyes and turned to the bar.

Quinns arms snuck around her waist and roughly pulled her against him, “do I need to remind you how much fun I am?”

“Uh-hu,” she said, twisting in his grip. He grinned and winked. “By singing some karaoke.”

His smile slipped, and he shook his head.

“Then,” she leaned in, “you can remind me of all the other ways you like to have fun on the way home.”

“I really don’t –”

Her mouth came dangerously close to his ear, “I’ll get you off on the Uber ride home if you do.”

Feeling suddenly breathless, he asked, “if I do - hypothetically -” he added, not quite ready to commit, “do I have to do it on my own?”

Knowing she was halfway to winning, Sarah smirked. “Of course not. I bet Brock would do it with you,” she said, stopping the tall blonde with a hand on his arm.

“Oh my god,” Bella squealed, bounding up to them. “Please, please, please? Brock said he won’t unless someone does it with him!”

Some kind of teammate telepathy was exchanged through a few raised eyebrows that ultimately ended with Quinn turning to the bartender, “can I get another shot?”

“Of what?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

They pushed a purple jello shot over the counter before tilting their head at the group of them. Sarah nodded, and they pulled out three more.

They all cheersed and shot back the slippery, sweet cocktails.

Smacking the shot glass back on the bar, Quinn grimaced. “Let's get this over with.”

“That’s the spirit!” Bella teased.

“Go get ‘em, tiger,” Sarah said, smacking Quinn’s butt as he followed Brock to the stage.

Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist

To read all my fics, check out the Fanfiction Masterlist

#quinn & sarah snapshots #quinn hughes #qh43 #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes one shot #quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes imagine #vancouver canucks #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #hockey fanfiction #hockey romance #hockey fic #Spotify

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charliemwrites · 2 months ago

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It’s been a minute - the last two weeks have been mind bogglingly stupid. But hopefully things are settling now? Idk anyway - consider this something to tide yall over until I can put out the Price/Reader/Simon fic

I am thinking about that threshold of dating when you get past all the prettiness. Like, when being human just becomes part of the relationship. It stops being carefully picked outfits, styled hair, nice perfume/cologne, careful bites of food.

I’m talking about the intimacy of stupid, stupid shit. I’m talking about the first time Krueger calls your name and you reply in a little gremlin voice “wHaT”.

I’m talking about Simon bringing home a treat for you and you do a weird little run, arms swinging and knees coming up too high, to get it from him.

Kyle staring in a mix of horror and fond exasperation as you quote, word for word and perfect intonation, your favorite bit from a YouTube video or tv show or comedy special.

Baffling Nikto by having a stupid ongoing bit that he doesn’t understand and you refuse to explain. Something like, “and I’m gonna eat your captain, of course”. What does that mean? You’re going to eat him?? “Yeah, with salt and butter. Nom nom.”

You pull that bit where you do shitty cosplays of characters. Johnny nearly pissed himself when you wandered into the kitchen covered in green paint with construction paper ears, mumbling in a little old man voice “consume cheez-its, I must, or rip Kenobi a new one, I will.”

Dancing badly, like not even cute badly, just BADLY in the kitchen or while you’re cleaning. It looks almost like you’re having a seizure really. Price is about two seconds from banning that “shake it” song by neon trees

Konig fears “Squirrel Girl” - his pretty little girlfriend disappears to be replaced with this creature that mutters about nesting and acorns and hibernating for winter.

Keegan just about died of embarrassment the first time you pretended his dick was microphone and leaned in close, saying “is this thing on? What’s the deal with airplane food?”

On that note - Gromsko didn’t realize having a pretty little stay at home wife like a traditional marriage meant his dick becomes fair game. She’s grabbin’ him like a handful of candies. When he asks why she points and says “that’s mine by law” and puts a bottle cap on it. “He’s got a hat now”. You make fantastic pies but you also keep asking to hold it while he pees.

You fuss at Velikan to hold still so you can preen in the visor of his helmet. You also put stickers on it and purposefully guilt trip him if he tries to remove it.

Oh and stealing clothes? Oh sure a t-shirt is hot. But their workout shorts? Their underwear or ugly military socks? Sooooo much better than the cute silk set you bought when you first started dating - for you, anyway.

I’m just so here for the weird intimacy of people moving past the aesthetic honeymoon phase of their relationship. Especially when it’s one of the guys who def hasn’t been in a comfortable long term relationship before (like konig or simon).

Same vibes as that time Robert Pattinson invited his stalker out to dinner and she lost interest because he simultaneously so weird but so boring. Not cute weird shit, just weird shit that you would never do in front of anyone else. Stupid, ugly faces and funky voices/impressions and cursed walking/running around.

#cod #thoughts™️#my writing #fanfiction

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jazzthatonewriterchick · 1 year ago

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DRABBLE: HE GETS HORNY FROM YOUR COSTUME 🎃 (18+) (ONE PIECE) (For Fem!Readers)

Writer's Note: Happy almost Halloween, y'all! I wanted to post some drabbles for spooky season this year just cuz I'm working & it's been hard to write my fics. BUT I'm gonna try to post at least one oneshot for Halloween & I'll be posting a JJK drabble too. Enjoy! -Jazz ❤️❤️

**********

LUFFY (YOU COSPLAY AS HIM)

“Y/N, come oooooon!” he whined from his bed. “If we’re late, we’re gonna miss out on all of the candy the villagers are givin’ out!”

You rolled your eyes standing in your shared washroom connected to your shared bed chambers. You had your own bedroom located in the girls’ cabins, but Luffy insisted on moving you into his bedroom so he could be closer to you. “Alright, alright, hang on,” you sighed, putting the finishing touches on your makeup. “Lemme just add this and…done!”

You smiled at your costume for tonight before turning to the bathroom door where you could hear Luffy whining and groaning about Zero beating him for the candy. “Alright, you big baby,” you giggled. “You ready to see my costume for tonight?”

“Oooh, wait, wait!” Luffy excitedly protested, seeming to forget about the candy already. “Lemme guess first. Hmm…you’re a ghost!”

“No,” you giggled.

“A vampire?”

“No.”

“Ooh, ooh, I know! You’re one of those bunnies I see around this time of year with the ears and those fishnet stocking things!”

“Not even close, babe,” you laughed. “I’ll give you a hint: it has to do with water.” You could practically hear the gears in Luffy’s head turning. You stayed away from the door, hidden behind it. “You’re a mermaid,” he guessed. “No…a fish? No, no, a pirate!”

“Close!” you replied, and opened the door to the bathroom where you jumped out into the bedroom where Luffy said. “I’m the best pirate and captain in the world!” you giddily said. “Ta-da! I’m you!”

Luffy’s wide grin fell when he got a look at you and your cosplay of him. You had on the cut-off shorts, slides, and even an exact replica of his straw hat. You adorned an open, red vest that made your skin pop and applied a bandeau bra that matched your skin tone and kept your breasts secure. You even got the X scar on his chest down to the T, applying enough purple and red makeup to make it appear as real as possible. You wanted to really gag him with this costume.

And you did, though his awestruck expression made you nervous. “Do you…like it?” you carefully asked.

Luffy ticked his eyes up to yours and instantly, his mouth split into a humongous grin that brightened the room. “Like it?!” he practically screamed. “Y/N, I love it! I mean, look at you! You’re me!” He began to laugh his hysterical, contagious laugh, a hand on his belly. “You look so, so good! You’ve even got the hat!”

You melted at his reaction, glad he loved it and glad to have gotten the reaction you were fishing for. “I figured I could do something different,” you said. You smirked playfully at him, placing your hands on your hips. “Guess that means I’m the captain now.”

Luffy’s laughter immediately stopped, a fire flashing behind his eyes that excited you. “What’s wrong?” you giggled. “Don’t like that idea?” Slowly, he shook his head, not even speaking. The excitement inside of you continued to grow, making your stomach flip. “So what are you gonna do about it?” you challenged. “You wanna fight about it?”

Yes, Luffy did want to fight about it, but not at all in the way you were thinking. His way of “fighting” meant having you on your knees with your ass hiked in the air and your straw hat nearly falling off of your head as your boyfriend snapped his hips behind you again and again, plunging his cock deeper inside of your sobbing, wet pussy with every single second that passed.

“What’s my name?” he asked. “Who’s making you feel this good?”

His hand looped around to grab your chin, folding it firmly. You could hardly form a coherent sentence with how hard his hips were thrusting into you, giving you blinding pleasure over and over again. “God, Luffy!” you shouted.

Luffy wasn’t pleased with that. “Uh-uh, baby,” he grunted. “Wrong answer.”

He shifted his hips to hit your G-spot, emitting sounds from you that came from the deepest parts of your chest as you were plunged into otherworldly pleasure.

“Captain!” you whined, finally catching onto his game. “Fuck, captain, you make this pussy feel so good!”

Luffy grinned and let you dig your face into the mattress again as he pounded your pussy from behind. “That’s right,” he chuckled. “I’m the captain. I’m your captain, the one and only.”

ZORO (MORTAL KOMBAT COSPLAY)

“What the fuck are you wearing?” he asked, looking absolutely befuddled.

He sat in his private training room on a bench while you stood in front of him, your hands on your hips and an excited smile on your face. You stood in your Mortal Kombat cosplay which consisted of a very skin-tight outfit with little to be hidden––a stretchy bodysuit that you paired with fishnet stockings and high-knee boots that you felt like you could kick someone with.

“It’s my Halloween costume,” you giggled. “You like it? I thought the bodysuit was a little see-through, but…”

You turned around, picking with your bodysuit which kept bunching up in your ass. Though the wedgies pissed you off, your ass did look amazing in the costume. You felt like the sexiest ninja alive. When you turned back to Zoro, you noticed how red his face was and the weird look in his eyes. “What?” you asked. “You don’t like it?”

He shook his head and turned away, busying himself with cleaning his weights. “I didn’t say that,” he grumbled.

You smirked at him and leaned against the bench he sat on. “So you do like it?” you chuckled. “You like seein’ me in this, hm?” You took a seat next to him, crossing your fishnet-clad legs over one another. Zoro barely took one glance at you, though it was more for his sake than yours. If he were to take another look at you, there would be nothing stopping him from bending you over this bench and fucking you right out of this costume.

“I didn’t say that either,” he grunted. “I’m just thinkin’ about how cold you’ll be. That outfit is only coverin’ so much of you.” He got up from his spot, holding a dumbbell in his hand that he went to place on the rack with the others.

“Uh-uh,” you replied, not buying his nonchalant attitude one bit. “So should I change?” He didn’t respond or look at you, which made you smile from ear to smile. You knew you were getting to him. Zoro was never a man to voice his arousal or flustered feelings too often, but his body language spoke volumes. “Here, maybe this will change your mind about it,” you giggled.

Out of your belt, you pulled out a fake sword that glinted in the light. “Look-it! And no, it’s not real.” Zoro turned to you and his eyes widened an inch at the sight of the sword in your hand. He walked towards it with heavy footfalls from his boots and examined the sword. “It damn well looks it,” he commented, in awe at how real the fake sword looked. “Just don’t pull this out at the party. You might make the wrong impression.”

“Guess I’ll have to leave it here then,” you sighed, placing it on your lap. You looked up at Zoro who was still staring down at the sword. You could almost feel the temptation radiating off of him. “You can touch it, you know,” you purred. “But only if I can touch yours.” His emerald eyes met yours, noticing your change in tone and the shift in the air.

You took his hand in yours and placed it on the sword, causing him to glide a finger over hilt. You then stood up and pressed your lips against the thick column of his neck, smiling at his hitched breath. You then pressed your tits against his big arm, giving him a feel of what he’d be missing if he didn’t admit how much he loved this outfit. “Pull it out for me,” you whispered against his ear. “We can have a sword fight.”

He practically shoved you aside as he walked away from you as fast he could while you hysterically laughed at your goofiness. “You’re fuckin’ ridiculous,” he sighed. And ridiculous you were…but so was he. He wanted to kick himself when he realized how hard he was for you. “Goddammit,” he muttered, picking up at his sweats.

You noticed immediately. “Wait…are you hard?”

Zoro was still turned away from you and went to clean his other exercise equipment, but you stopped him by jumping in front of him. He glared at you, wondering what else you were planning. He didn’t at all expect you to grab a handful of his hardened cock, emitting a groan from him. “You are!” you laughed. “So you do like the costume!”

Face beat red and clammy, he batted your hand away. “Shut up,” he growled. “What the hell were you expecting walkin’ around in that? It’s like you planned this from the jump.” Silence swelled around you and he raised an eyebrow at your wordless response. “Didn’t you?” he demanded.

Now he was getting it. Once again, you pressed yourself up against him and this time, he didn’t shy away. “You know, if we’re going to a party, I’m gonna have to move around in this.” You placed a hand on his broad chest, admiring the taught skin and tatted ink across his big pecs. “Think you can help me test that out in twenty minutes till the party starts?”

A fire flashed behind Zoo’s eyes as he gripped your ass in one hand, both cheeks fitting in his palm. You whimpered at the rough contact while his fingers on his other hand toyed with the zipper at the back of your costume. “I can do that and more, mama,” he growled. “Now how the fuck do you take this shit off?”

Thirty minutes later, you found yourself on your back, still in your costume, with Zoro on top of you and fucking you into the mattress below in your shared bedroom. The bed was rocking like a damn ship on a stormy sea with how much hard he was fucking you, your legs up and on his shoulders while his thick cock plunged in and out of you. “Z-Zoro!” you whined through pants and moans of pleasure. “We’re gonna be late!”

Your man shook is head above you, his face red and beads of sweet cascading down his handsome face. “I don’t give a fuck,” he grunted. “Should’ve known better than to have teased me like that. Now you’re gonna take all of this cum, mama.”

And you did. You weren’t too happy when he got nut on your costume and laughed about it.

SANJI (SLUTTY ANGEL)

He didn’t say anything for at least ten minutes. You thought the man was dead.

Ten minutes before, he was fine. You had pulled him away from his duties in the kitchen whipping up dinner before the big Halloween bash that the island you and the crew were currently relaxing on was throwing. Dinner that night consisted of clam and salmon fettuccini with buttered rolls, salad, and pumpkin and ghost-shaped cookies for dessert. Your man really knew had to throw down in the kitchen, which is why he is the chef of the crew.

Sanji was quickly to abandon his cooking to attend to you––his love; his beauty; his one and only. You stood in the middle of the kitchen with him, giggling as he ran his hands over your sides in your fluffy robe. “You sure dinner won’t burn?” you curiously asked.

He shook his head, practical hearts in his eyes. "The sauce is simmering and I just put the rolls on,” he replied, his hands still roaming. “The food is fine, my love. Now, what it is you wished to show me?”

He took your hands and pressed a heated kiss to them, always the one for physical touch as his love language. Lucky for him, it was yours too. You stood up on your tip toes and pressed a kiss to the side of his neck, causing him to shiver. “I have a surprise for you,” you whispered. “It’s right under here.” You toyed with the tie of your robe, smirking up at him.

Sanji’s mind began to run wild with all of the naughty possibilities of what could be under your robe. Were you naked? Or in a cute little set of lingerie that adorned your skin and made it look soft and supple? When you finally yanked on the tie and let the robe fall, he was floored. None of his fantasies could’ve prepared him or had matched up to what was actually under your robe though.

When he saw you in your angel costume, he just about died a thousand times standing there. “Ta-da!” you sang. “It’s my Halloween costume for tonight’s bar crawl after dinner. Nami picked it out for me. You like?” You twirled for him, causing the fake, fluffy white wings taped to your back to flutter behind you.

Sanji didn’t know where to look first. You filled out the white corset bodysuit you wore quite nicely, your luscious breasts pushed up against the bodice where fake white feathers traced along the top as well as around the hem of your stockings that looked so damn good on your legs. You paired glittery, silver heels and a fluffy fake halo with your outfit along with a white collar where a silver heart dangled cutely around your neck, nearly smothered by your gorgeous titties the way Sanji wanted to be.

You looked absolutely ravishing.

Sanji didn’t even realize he was standing there, mouth agape and completely frozen. Noticing that your man’s brain had begun short-circuiting, you stepped up to him and snapped your fingers in front of his face. “Sanji, baby?” you asked. “Sanji, can you hear me?”

That’s when he finally blinked and a trickle of blood ran down his nose. A nosebleed. You barely reacted, having become used to your boyfriend popping nosebleeds when it came to you and your sexiness. He covered his nose immediately, luckily stopping the blood from spurting out all over you. “Hang on one moment,” he said, his voice muffled by his hand clapped over his mouth.

When he ran out of the room to assess the damage, you held your stomach in hysterical laughter. That was one of the reactions you were expecting. Minutes later, he came back, nose clean and free of blood “Damn, baby, you popped a nosebleed for me?” you laughed. You went up to him and wrapped your arms around him, pressing your body into his.

He held onto your hips and pressed himself farther into you, making you gasp. Mostly because of the very real, very hard bulge he was now packing in his pants. That was another reaction you were hoping for.

“That ain’t all I’m popping right now,” he playfully whispered against your ear. He pressed a soft kiss there before moving down to your neck, littering your skin in kisses as he did compliments. “You look absolutely amazing, my love. Ravishing, even. No–angelic! Beyond heavenly!”

Now he was yelling. “Okay, Sanji,” you giggled, stopping him from alerting the crew. "I get it.” He pulled away to look down at you, his gaze full of adoration and love that made you melt into your heels. “You are the prettiest angel I’ve ever laid eyes on,” he sighed. “I must be in heaven right now.”

Your hand trailed down to grab his hip, your fingers sneaking under his shirt to press against warm, bare skin and toned muscle. “Not yet,” you purred, “but later.” Sanji shuddered at your touch, pressing his bulge into you fully. “Why later?” he questioned before pressing the slightest kiss on your neck. “Why not now?”

His lips worked your neck as he began to slowly grind into you, emitting a soft whimper from your lips. His big hands toyed with your hips, running over the fake feathers there. “S-Sanji,” you stuttered, “the dinner–“

“Is fine,” he growled against your neck. “I know my cooking, love, and I know it won’t be finished for another twenty-five to thirty minutes. We have plenty of time for that.”

He then pulled away and took your hand, a love-drunk grin on his handsome face that you couldn’t ignore or deny. “Now, my pretty little angel, off to your bedroom so you can take me to heaven.”

And when Sanji took you to his bedroom and slid into your pussy for the first time that night, he could practically see the pearly gates opening for him. Your fake halo and wings shook the harder he fucked you, one hand groping your naked breast while the other gripped your calve.

“Fuck, Sanji!” you shout to the ceiling, seeing stars behind your eyelids as his cock head glides against your G-spot.

Sanji grinned down at you, his gorgeous body coated in a light sheen of sweat and his smile love drunk. “That’s right, angel,” he moaned as he kissed your foot hiked up near his ear. “Take my cock. Let me take you to heaven too.”

Girl, you practically saw Jesus when he was done with you.

LAW (SCHOOLGIRL)

“What’s under the robe?” he asked, squinting confusedly at you. “You’re showering now? I thought you wanted to go to this stupid ass party.”

He sat on the side of his bed in a white tank top that hung loosely on his body, exposing his tatted skin and hard pecs that you love to suck on. You stand in front of him in your fluffy bath rope despite the white stockings underneath. The smile you wore faded at his sour attitude and your hands fell from the flap of your robe.

“Look, if you’re gonna have that attitude, you can stay home,” you scoffed. “I’d have no problem picking up a guy to dance with me in this little get-up.”

You twirled around to stalk toward the bathroom, missing Law’s glare directed at the back of your head.

“What do you mean by that?” he asked, fire in his eyes. You scoffed once more, annoyed. You knew he was never a party person, but he also knew Halloween was your favorite holiday. The least he could do was act excited for Luffy’s Halloween party.

Supposedly, it was taking place on the Jolly Roger ship in the middle of the ocean and every single one of his friends (which were a lot) were invited, including you and Law. You wanted to look extra cute and sexy tonight, mostly for your man. But so far, he was coming off like he didn’t deserve any of that.

You turned to him, sniffing rudely at him. “Wouldn’t you like to know,” you muttered.

In a poof of nothing, he was gone from his spot on the bed and suddenly standing in front of you and the bathroom door. When you turned around, you nearly slammed into him. “Hey!” you shouted, glaring up at him. But Law could glare like it was his profession, making your stomach flip.

“Don’t play with me like that,” he demanded, not even having to raise his voice. “Now what did you mean by that? And what’s under there?” He cocked a pierced eyebrow at your robe, giving you the impression that he would take it off if you didn’t.

You rolled your eyes, but disrobed yourself anyway. There, you revealed your costume to him––a sexy, slutty schoolgirl outfit with a white top tied at your midsection to show a sliver of tummy and low enough to show off your cherry red bra underneath and a blue plaid mini skirt that stopped at mid-thigh and hiked up slightly in the back, barely covering your asscheeks where matching red lace panties were.

You glared up at Law. “There,” you scoffed. “Happy now?”

Law didn’t answer. He was too busy running his eyes over your tits which practically spilled out of your bra and how you filled out the little school skirt. “It was gonna be a surprise, but then you decided to be a grump and ruin it,” you blandly continued.

You watched his face for a reaction, but it was completely blank. Then again, Law had a poker face that he could’ve been born with. “Where…are your pants?” he carefully asked.

You almost laughed at the randomness of his question. Was he dumb? “In my drawer,” you replied. “Pants would’ve ruined the outfit. That’s why I’ve got stockings.” You pointed down at your skintight, white stockings that Law thought were absolutely adorable and wanted by his ears while he fucked you stupid in your school skirt.

He was still quiet, giving you the impression that he was criticizing your costume. It made you nervous. “So do you like it or…?” Still, he said nothing. But when you went to close your robe again and forget about this whole party, he put a hand on yours, stopping you. “You sure you have to go to this stupid ass party?” he asked.

“Law,” you criticized him, “it’s not–“

“Because I think it’d be may more fun for you to stay here and let me fuck you in this,” he continued without missing a single beat. You paused, blinking at him. “W-What?” you dumbly stuttered.

You now noticed how hooded and dark his gaze had become. He stepped toward you and you instinctively stepped back. “You heard me,” he softly growled. “You talkin’ ‘bout meeting some stranger to spend time with at this party just to spite me, when in reality, they’d have no idea what to do with this.”

He took another step your way and you stepped back, ending up falling into the bed back first. You gasped as you tripped backwards and Law immediately found his perch above you where he stooped down to run his lips over your breasts. “Stop,” you softly whined. “C’mon, Law, I have to–“

Your words died in your throat, replaced with a broken moan as one of Law’s skillful hands traveled down between your thighs to rub your pussy through your panties. He did it slowly; deliberately; taking his sweet time getting you wet as his lips kissed your neck.

“Could he do this?” he asked, still referring to that imaginary guy at the party you probably wouldn’t have met tonight. “Could he make my naughty girl feel like this?”

He nibbled at your earlobe, causing you to gasp. “Answer me,” he demanded.

“No,” you whimpered. “Law, please.” He knew exactly what you were begging for, but he wasn’t going to give it to you that easily.

“No, he couldn’t,” he agreed. “And other than a punishment, I think you need some reeducation.” He then rolled off of you, standing before you in all of his big, muscled glory, his cock hard beneath his sweats. “If you wanna be a naughty girl and dress like this, it’s only fair.”

So when he sat down on the bed and patted his lap, you absolutely knew what time it was. You ended up missing the party. Your ass stung too much from Law’s big hand spanking it to walk, your body ached from his rough fucking session to move, and your school skirt was stained with his cum as he pumped his cock all over your ass as he fucked you out of three orgasms.

And you loved every second of it.

SHANKS (SAILOR GIRL)

He couldn’t keep his eyes off of you.

Seriously. He’d been playing poker with his crew for an hour and lost three rounds because he kept staring at your fine ass from across the bar.

He just couldn’t get over your little Halloween costume. It looked as if you were a sailor judging by the blue mini skirt that barely covered your plump asscheeks, striped low-cut top where he could just make out the red lace of your bra underneath, suspenders, and sailor hat tipped low over your head. You were standing by the bar laughing with Nami in her mermaid costume, and Robin in her skin-tight cheetah costume that Sanji was all over earlier.

Shanks felt like a old pervert watching you, especially with how his body reacted to the sight of you. His heart thumped and his cock surged in his pants, desperate to feel you. Why the fuck did you have to come here dressed like this of all places? Sure, it was a Halloween party, but it still wasn’t fair! Did you realize what you were doing to him?

“Damn, Shanks!” Yasopp laughed along with Shanks’ crew. “You’re losin’ everything!” Shanks came back to reality, realizing that one of his mates won and took his share of coin, emitting laughter from everyone surrounding him. “That’s the fourth round in a row,” Yasopp pointed out. “You losin’ the magic touch, Captain?”

Shanks didn’t have the energy to defend himself or even give a shit. Not when he could hear your gorgeous laughter from across the bar. At this point, his cock was ready to rip a hole through his pants with how much he was chubbing against the fabric. He stood abruptly, causing Yasopp to look at him like he was crazy. “Just hold my spot,” he said, barely even sparing his crew member a glance. “I’ll be right back.”

Yasopp noticed his captain’s hyper-fixation on a particular point across the bar and turned to see who exactly Shanks had his sights set on. As soon as he saw you in your sailor fit, it hit him. “Ohhh,” he said in realization. He smirked up at Shanks knowingly. “Alright then. Just try not to scare her off.”

Shanks didn’t even give him an answer. He just downed a shot to give him some liquid courage and put on the charm that he knew was there beneath the butterflies you gave him. They, however, only gave him a harder time, fluttering about in a frenzy the closer he got to you. He could smell your perfume now, giving him some very horrible, dirty, nasty visions that he couldn’t wipe away the harder he tried. All he could do was act like you weren’t getting him hard when he finally approached you and the girls.

“Hey, you,” he smoothly said, already putting on as much of the charm as he could while tipsy.

You turned around to face him, holding your rum punch. The glass was stained with your red lipstick that he desperately wanted to see around the head of his cock. “Shanks!” you happily said. “You finally took a break from poker to be with us freaks?”

“More like with one freak in particular,” Nami giggled, giving Shanks a knowing smirk. She knew exactly what he was here for, as did Robin. “We’ll just leave you two alone,” the black-haired beauty said with a sly smile. “We’ll be playing pool if you need us, Y/N.” She gave you a wink before walking off with Nami, leaving you two alone.

You gave Shanks an apologetic smile. “Sorry about them,” you sighed. “They’re very protective.” Your eyes darted to the left while you sipped on your drink. You appeared shy and almost nervous around him. Unbeknownst to you, it made him feel a lot more confident despite his horniness.

“As they should be,” he replied. “Especially in that little get-up.” He nodded at your costume, emitting a cute little giggle from your lips. “So you’re a sailor? I didn’t realize they made skirts that short for ‘em.”

“Yeah,” you said, almost shyly. “Figured I stick to a sea-based aesthetic for my Halloween fit this time around. The skirt was a little too short for my liking, but Nami insisted I wear it.” You picked at the skirt, trying to tug it down over your luscious thighs that Shanks pictured licking on. “Is it too much?” you asked, second guessing.

Shanks wanted to do everything in his power to make sure you didn’t second guess shit about yourself. Didn’t you realize how fucking sexy you were? “Not at all,” he replied. “You look perfect in it.” You smiled lightly at his compliment, making him feel like he won the fucking lottery. “I’m sure all of these other drunk, horny bastards would agree with me,” he chuckled.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “What, you’re seriously tellin’ me you ain’t notice all the eyes on you since you walked in here?” he asked. Even he noticed it, especially from Sanji’s perving ass. He made Shanks’ horniness look tame.

“Well, they’re irrelevant anyways,” you said, your pretty, brown eyes trailing down to stare at the floor. Shanks raised an eyebrow at your response. “And why is that?” He asked, his interest piqued.

“Because they’re not you,” you murmured.

Shanks heard you. It was impossible not to with how close he was to you, even over the music and loud chatter in the bar. He was initially shocked by how bold of a statement that was, especially from you, but then he grew even more insatiable for you. Now that he knew that the feeling he felt for you was mutual, he was more than ready to stop the flirty shit and get right to having his tongue down your throat; his hands on your ass; his lips on yours.

But he wanted to hear it again, louder this time. No more of that shy shit. So he stepped closer to you until his chest was right in your line of sight, blocking out everything behind him so you couldn’t escape him. “Sorry, what was that?” he whispered. “You’re gonna have to speak up for me, darlin’. It’s too loud for these old ears to pick up your pretty voice if you’re talkin’ low.”

He could how your body reacted to his words––your breath hitched; your teeth sunk into your bottom lip; your eyes grew hooded as they peered up at him through your lashes. “I said because they’re not you, Captain,” you softly replied, your voice taking on a more seductive tone that Shanks noticed immediately.

Yeah. He was definitely fucking you. He’d take you out for the finest lobster dinner and a nice walk on the town later, but right now? He needed to feel you squeezing around him and your soft, pretty voice letting out those moans he knew were inside of you.

“So you wore this for me, hm?” he questioned. His fingers toyed with your skirt, making your breath hitch again. “Interesting. Maybe we can discuss more about this over a walk?” You looked up at him, your lips still caught between your lips. You didn’t nod or even say yes. You just took his hand when he offered it and let him lead you out of the bar into the night.

Moments later, under the starry sky and in the quietest part of town, miles down away from the bar, you and Shanks find yourselves together with his cock buried deep inside of you and one hand pinning your thigh up against his hip while his other hand had your wrists pinned against a brick wall. Soft moans and gasps left your lips every time his cock slid inside of you, stretching out your wet walls, while he groaned at the feeling of you wrapped around him.

Your soft hands gripped his shoulders as his hips nailed into yours, your nails digging into his broad shoulders. You were doing your best to keep quiet, but it felt so good that you just couldn’t. That made him want to cum faster than he planned. “Sorry we couldn’t do this in a nicer place, sugar,” he groaned. “You just look too damn good to pass on.”

His hand slid down under your teeny, tiny skirt to grip and toy with your ass, your panties at your ankles. A shuddering moan escaped your lips as his pelvis rubbed against your clit, sending shivers throughout your body. “Fuck, I don’t care,” you whined into his ear. “Just don’t stop! Please, Shanks!”

Shanks pulled away to look down at you, his body pinning you harder again the wall. “That’s not my name, darlin’,” he sternly said. “Correct yourself or you’ll be missin’ out on an orgasm tonight.” He slowed down his thrusts and he swore that your soul nearly left your body.

“Captain!” you shouted to the starry skies. “Please make me cum, Captain!” He smirked happily at your reaction and his cock surged in response. “That’s much better,” he chuckled. “Now cum on this cock, sugar.”

And you did, right at the same time he burst inside of you, leaving cum dripping down your thighs only covered by the skirt he pulled down for you. The panties though? He kept those.

BUGGY (HARLEY QUINN COSPLAY)

“Is this you coming out as a slut?” he curiously asked. “‘Cause you didn’t have to go through all this trouble, doll face. I already knew.”

He stood in the bathroom brushing his teeth while you stood behind him in the Halloween costume that you were very proud of. You made the outfit and did your makeup yourself. But his reaction sucked all the joy and excitement out of you instantly.

You smacked him upside the head, earning a glare through the bathroom mirror. “Dickhead!” you shouted, irked at him trying hard to peck at your nerves. “It’s my Halloween costume! I’m Harley Quinn!”

You decided to go for the Harley Quinn outfit from the Batman animated series, with the red and black checkered jester one-piece and hat with the cute little pom-poms that dangled from either side of your hat. You paired it with some heeled leather boots and Harley’s mallet which you painted during your downtime. You also did your makeup, painting your lips red and wearing a mask over your eyes that Harley often wore in the show.

You felt cute and sexy. Sexy enough to seduce your clown boyfriend after a night of trick-or-treating…but of course, he had to be a dick and ruin your plans for role-play sex. He turned to you now, standing big and tall so he practically blocked out the sink behind him.

“I don’t know who that is,” he deadpanned. “And were you in my makeup again? ‘Cause that red lipstick looks awfully familiar.” He squinted at your lipstick, running a hand over his blue facial hair.

“No,” you sighed, rolling your eyes behind your mask. “And she’s from Batman. You know the DC comics?” Buggy still stared at you like he had no idea what you were saying. Then a light flickered behind his eyes. “Ohhh, nerdy shit,” he snickered. “Figures as much.”

He turned back around to the bathroom mirror, nearly dripping toothpaste on his wife beater than he filled out completely. Seriously: Buggy is huge. Anytime you stood near him, he made you feel like an ant (which also turned you on). “Says the guy who walks around in clown makeup,” you retorted. “The only nerd here is you, Buggy.”

He smirked in the mirror as he spat in the sink bowl and then dabbed at his mouth with a towel. “And yet people still tremble at the sight of me,” he cockily chuckled. He turned back around to face you, his eyes trailing over how your body filled out the jester suit. “So now what? Am I supposed to fuck you or something?”

You scoffed at his brazen words, planting your hands on your hips. “Oh, my God, you’re horrible,” you groaned, frustrated. “You’re supposed to take me out trick-or-treating!”

Buggy’s eyes widened at you and your plan. ”In that?” he asked, surprised that you even came up with such an idea. You nodded, not at all piecing together how much the suit stuck to your form. It left nothing for imagination, your titties and ass pushing against the fabric. “In that suit, you’d be getting more than just candy, sweetheart,” he chuckled, turning back around to fix his ponytail. He took the aqua-blue locks out of his hairband, letting it fall down his back.

You glared at him, wondering why you even tried in the first place…until an idea came to mind. You smirked at him as he continued to ignore you and prep himself. “Oh, I bet I would,” you purred. “All the fathers out there, especially, will probably be very happy to see me and give me every single bit of their candy.”

Buggy stopped moving entirely, leaving his hair out of its ponytail. “Maybe Shanks would appreciate my costume a little more, you think?” you asked. “Maybe I should see for myself.”

You turned to walk out of the bathroom, a giddy smile on your face as you laughed to yourself. That smile fell from your face the moment Buggy’s disembodied hand zoomed across the room to wrap around your throat. It squeezed, hard, emitting a gasp from you as you struggled to breathe. Buggy’s heavy footfalls thudded behind you as he came up to you.

“Say that again, slut,” he growled. “You know damn well that redheaded bitch couldn’t do shit with you. You’re way too much of a deviant little cockslut for him.”

His hand squeezed your throat tighter, making you squeak out a noise between a gasp and a whimper. His other hand slid down between your thighs, feeling the heat radiating there. “Admit it,” he demanded.

His grip loosened, giving you a chance to breathe. And be a fucking brat. “Not until you admit how much you love this costume,” you weakly shot back.

Buggy pressed himself against you, giving you a feel of his hard-on that slid against your lower back.

“Maybe,” he sighed. “After I’m done fucking that mouth until this makeup runs.” He turned your face to his and ran a thumb over your lips, smudging your lipstick. “Maybe then I’ll love this stupid costume even more.”

A devious glint appeared in his eyes, giving you a taste of what was to come next for you.

#smutty smut #my works #my one shots #one piece smut #one piece one shots #fem!reader #spooky season

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ickiess · 2 years ago

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how they fuck

these are all my own headcanons. LOL. oh and i'm making a fic based off this post stay tuned.

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Captain Price. Service Top.

He knows how to please and he loves to do it. He'll never come first and you'll never come only once. He's experienced and confident. Once he knows exactly what buttons to press to get you hot and bothered, you're fucked. He has no issue with PDA and needs everyone to know that you're his. It's his job to make you feel good, and he'll do it at the drop of his stupid hat.

'Gaz'. Power Bottom.

He tries so hard to be in control but loses it the moment you are on him - your eyes, your lips, your hands. All that bravado and flirting has taken a turn as he becomes putty underneath you. He's still trying to take charge as he talks a big game only to crumble once you get him going. That confidence comes back full stride once he's no longer a sobbing mess, but now you know it's just an act.

'Soap'. Vers.

A rare vers in its natural habitat. Nothing makes him happier than being able to please whomever he's with the way they need want to be pleased. He can (and will) take or lose control in a second if you ask him to. He may be overconfident at times, but he makes up for it in enthusiasm. Lovey in public and lovey in private, he's a 'best of both worlds' kind of guy.

'Ghost'. Bottom cosplaying as a top.

Do I need to explain? It's ok, I will. Having control is one of the ways he grounds himself, losing that is difficult. It's something someone has to earn from him. At the start, he'll fuck you and fuck you good. But the cracks start to show the closer you get until he's praising and begging with every breath. Possessive in an endearing way, his affection shows when you're alone.

Alejandro. Bottom.

It's a surprise but certainly a welcome one. All it takes is you. Once the door closes, or you whisper in his ear, show just a bit of skin, he becomes a puddle of obsession and reverence. He'll do anything to please you even if that means he gets nothing. Damn if he cares as long as you look at him. He is the true personification of this audio and you cannot change my mind.

Rodolfo. Soft top.

Another welcome surprise. He has this quiet confidence that comes through when with you. He loves being able to control both of your pleasures, watching how you unravel just for him, rambling praise even as he fucks you senseless. He's affectionate no matter the time, place, or company - which is a double edged sword as each whisper of love gets you riled up more than it probably should.

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part 2 will have graves, konig and whoever y'all request.

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cadmusfly · 1 year ago

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Censored selfie of my outfit today to see the Napoleon movie after work today, dressed as a 19th century Royal Navy captain with the hat @angelofgrace96 crocheted as a present for me

I don’t have any French empire closet cosplays yet and I still appreciate boat men vastly

#cadmus rambles

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fanfic-scribbles · 1 year ago

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Marry Me Three

Sequel to: Marry Me 2 - Boyfriend’s Back (All Right)

Fandom: MCU Captain America/Avengers

Summary: Marriage is stupidly limited. That’s okay– you’ve never found a box that could fit you anyway.

Quick facts: Romance – Steve Rogers/Reader/Bucky Barnes – Female Reader

Warnings: Fluff, marriage talk, a little fade-to-black sexy times

MCU Timeline: Set some nebulous time after CA:TWS

Words: 3170

A/N: At last, the end of the ‘Marry Me’ saga. Please enjoy a bunch of goofballs <3

Bucky is brooding.

This isn’t so different from usual, but what is unusual is that none of your distraction tactics are working. The lovey-dovey stuff gets a little kiss before he’s back to stewing in his own head, the funny stuff gets a half-hearted smile before he once again becomes the protagonist of a Russian tragedy, (it is ridiculous that he is not actually Russian, honestly, even Natasha has commented that she feels lacking next to him), and your last-ditch attempts to be annoying get a scowl and some muttered curses before he turns away and does his best gargoyle impression.

Some research is required.

“Is there a reason you’ve started walking around with a notepad and pen and staring at Bucky?” Steve asks, like for all he knows the answer could very well be ‘no.’

“I’m trying to figure out what’s wrong with him,” you say. “So I’m taking notes and observations so I can put them together later.”

“Ah.” He sips his coffee and stares at you. “That explains the new corkboard. No string?”

“I had to order it. They were out of red,” you admit. “It’s coming with the safari hat.”

He stares at you. “Why safari instead of a deerstalker?”

“The safari ones looked nicer and shipped faster,” you say. “If the binoculars weren’t more annoying than they’re worth I’d be using them too. Maybe if I’m annoying enough I can actually get him to talk about his fucking feelings rather than keep shutting me out.”

Steve pulls you into a hug and kisses your head. “I’ll try and talk to him,” he says and rubs your shoulder. As he pulls away, he says, “No smoking pipes.”

You hadn’t been thinking about that since your Sherlock Holmes cosplay abruptly stopped with the lack of nice hats available with fast shipping, but now that he’s said no you can’t resist the siren song of pushing boundaries. “Not even a bubble one?”

Steve shoots you a glare and wanders off.

Well, if Steve succeeds, hopefully you’ll be able to find another use for the safari hat. But until he pulls through you will continue to observe Boyfriendicus Moodicus and hope a solution presents itself.

Nothing magically happens to make things better. Bucky’s still sullen, but he’s sullen with a guilty edge when he comes up one day and hugs you from behind. “I’m sorry I’ve been a jerk,” he says and presses a little kiss to your head.

“You’re not a jerk,” you say and put your hands over his as Steve watches with a look of concern himself. The talk didn’t go so well, apparently, but at least someone else is on the lookout now. “But I know you’re upset and I wish you’d tell me why. Or Steve. Or an imaginary friend. Somebody.”

“I, uh…” He nuzzles you, preying on your weakness. Bastard. You hope he keeps it up. “I don’t know how to say it,” he admits. “It’s something in my own head, and I don’t know how to…say it right. So I wanna wait.”

“But you will?” you ask and he nods. “Fine,” you say uncertainly. “If it takes too long though I’m getting a little hand puppet, okay?”

Even the thought makes him look annoyed, which is exactly what you were hoping for. They know better than to test you on your most ridiculous ideas, and you make a few open and shut motions with your hand to drive the point home. But something about how Bucky looks at your hand catches your attention. There’s a brief burst of longing and what is he even looking a–

Oh.

Oh!

The ring.

Over the next week you take your Bucky Studies very seriously. He said he can’t verbalize it and you believe that– Steve has his moments but Bucky has an especially hard time talking about what he wants and what he feels, (and when you think about the why you end up clinging to him like a koala which is not ideal for observation but is great for very distracting kisses), so you don’t try to push him. The safari hat goes mostly unused, alas, but you do pick up on a few things:

A) Bucky doesn’t just give sad longing looks at your ring, but at Steve’s too;

B) If you and Steve are already fooling around, Bucky is a lot more hesitant about joining in than he was when you all started your, ahem, group activities;

C) A and B are very often paired together– and while A can happen during even just the mundanity of the day, B will always have that look of envy;

and A point 2 C B or whatever) The envious look at your rings is almost always followed by a flash of annoyance. And not at you– you’ve gotten very, very good at reading your partners’ looks of annoyance, (you even have a handy card catalogue you reference sometimes to make them very annoyed at you), but seemingly at himself.

It’s sort of remarkable that you can see all this, because while you’re more observant than people sometimes give you credit for, it’s still something special to be able to observe Bucky without having him call you on it once or twice. It’s nice that he’s so comfortable around you. But it’s not nice that this issue– whatever he can’t verbalize– is eating him away so much that he lets it show for all and sundry.

Still, now you have some data. It’s time to try and formulate some solutions.

“Hey Bucky?”

“Yeah doll?”

“Would it make you feel better if Steve and I got divorced?”

Bucky chokes on his drink. Steve, to his credit, merely stops cutting his food and looks up at you past slightly raised brows. You think it’s nice that he understands what you meant. Or maybe he doesn’t understand and he’s just used to your nonsense. If you’re being honest, it’s probably more the latter, but it’s still nice to have your general person so well understood that Steve can hear that and not worry.

“Wh-…” Bucky pauses to take another drink that actually makes it down his throat. “Sweetheart, why would I want that?”

“It’s just a thought,” you say. “Because Steve and I love each other whether we’re together in the eyes of the law or not. Just like we love you.” You have to hurry up when he opens his mouth. “And I know you know we don’t love you any less, but knowing and feeling are two different things and we all have doubts.”

“I don’t doubt,” Bucky says quickly. “But…you’re sort of right. It’s just something I have to deal with.” He takes your hand and tugs you in for a little hug that you both have to lean out of your chairs for. “I don’t want you and Steve to get divorced. I like that you two are married. Also, it’d be a huge pain in the ass and pro’ly wouldn’t do much.”

“Okay.” You kiss his head and lean back. Back to the drawing board. Luckily the drawing board still has some sketches on it. “It’s okay Bucky, I’ve got another idea.”

Both Bucky and Steve are suddenly distracted by ringing phones. You sigh but pull yourself together as they jump up. While they get ready, you shove their dinners into containers so they can at least have a little something on their way to save the world.

“I know it sounded bad, but you get what I meant, right?” you ask Steve in between kissing him goodbye. Multiple times, of course.

“I know. And I agree.” He smiles and kisses you one more time before letting Bucky in.

You make sure to give Bucky just as much physical love as you did Steve, but he’s looking at you cautiously. Still, he kisses you, and says, “Don’t do anything before we get home and talk about your ‘idea,’ okay?”

“Have a lovely day at work; be safe!” you say cheerfully. Bucky is about to open his mouth but you are, strangely, saved by yet more ringing from his phone, and the sounds of tires screeching outside. He rolls his eyes and runs out with Steve, not even pausing when he mouths, ‘We’ll talk later.’

You shut the door and turn back to your empty home. You allow yourself a moment of self-pity before you make a fist and hit it to your palm. This is actually perfect– an opportunity to put your plan into action without any super-significant-other meddling. You are going to get right to it–

–your stomach grumbles–

–after dinner.

They come back in two days, so it’s a good thing you decided not to procrastinate on your Secret Plan. The mission was quick and neither of them are injured, but they are obviously exhausted, so you cajole them into taking a nap. Steve is tired enough he does as he’s told, dragging a slightly more suspicious Bucky with him. But Bucky is just as tired, so you blow them both a kiss and, once the door is shut and you hear no more moving, you rush to your little box of supplies and start setting everything up.

When they come out for dinner the candles are all set, the food is almost ready, and your two super soldiers take a moment to fully wake up from their nap and appreciate the nice romantic table you’ve put together.

Steve clears his throat and leans in to straighten one of the candles that had tilted maybe a little worryingly to the side. “Oh, oops; good catch,” you say and put down their two plates. “Steve, come be helpful and grab the wine glasses.”

“Really going all out to welcome us home,” Bucky says, eyeing you suspiciously.

“Yeah sure, that’s what it is,” you say, smiling too hard to sell it, and you all but drag Steve into the kitchen where you promptly shove a little box into his hand, and mouth, ‘Wait.’

His eyes light up, but he grins too and nods, and takes the wine glasses and the bottle out to the table while you grab the last plate and go to take your seat. Bucky looks even more suspicious, definitely not helped by how Steve is the absolute worst at keeping a straight face, but you ignore your husband in favor of the modest but still delicious meal you made. “You’re probably starving.”

“Sweetheart,” Bucky says warily, not even attempting to grab his fork. “Don’t take this the wrong way but– what are you up to?”

You don’t answer, and instead take a bite. In all honestly though it’s hard to focus on the food– you’re very excited for this, and when Bucky keeps staring at you, you think…fuck it. It’s time to put him at ease, one way or another.

So you stand up, walk over to him, get down on one knee, pull out the box, and open it. “Bucky,” you say. “We can’t get married before God and law but…fuck ‘em. I love you just as much as I love Steve and if this is only legit to us then that’s all that matters. So, James Buchanan Barnes, second love of my life but not the secondary love of my life, will you marry me according to the law of this house– coincidentally my law– and be my top-secret husband?”

Bucky considers you with a serious face that looks close to cracking. “Will you promise to unassign “Secret Agent Man” as my theme song?”

“Absolutely not,” you say. “But when I sing it the lyrics will be changed to reflect your new status as ‘secret husband man.’”

Steve breaks, laughing and leaning on the table for support. Bucky even cracks a smile, but you try to stay neutral, to let him know you’re (mostly) serious. His eyes soften like he knows. Of course he knows– he knows you just like Steve does, by now. “Well how can I resist an offer like that?” he asks and holds out his hand for you to put on the ring.

You try to take your time, so that Steve can get over his sudden burst of amusement, but he’s still chuckling when you take your seat again. You take your wine glass and give Bucky a sympathetic look. “I wish I could tell you Steve’s proposal to me was more romantic, but it really wasn’t.”

Steve stops laughing then. “Hey…you aren’t seriously going to tell that story to everyone are you?”

You take a moment to consider. “Well, I guess orgasms can be romantic.”

Steve hides his head and Bucky laughs loudly. “Stevie you fucking cheat,” Bucky says with a wide grin and admiration in his voice.

“That wasn’t the real proposal!” Steve insists. “The real proposal was the next morning. That was…”

“Steve being unable to keep a secret to save his life,” you supplement. Steve opens his mouth and you wave him silent. “Yeah, yeah; you can work on Bucky’s proposal later. For now, eat. I worked hard on this.”

“I’ll take the orgasm proposal,” Bucky says but takes his own utensils in hand. “Is that a special I can order?”

Steve mutters under his breath and attacks his meal like it’s going to run away. You roll your eyes but get to your food. “Dinner first, then honeymoon.” You take a bite and chew for a few seconds before you swallow and add. “And then cake.”

“The only surprise about this, is that cake is coming last,” Bucky says in amusement and follows suit.

There are so many responses to that. You, a true Hero, refrain in order to at least get through dinner and to the fun stuff without your husband and husband-to-be chucking you out of a window.

You get chucked onto the bed, which is way more fun and makes you laugh as Bucky grins and crawls over you in a way that should be slightly terrifying but is honestly just fucking hot, so that when he’s close enough you grab him by the shirt collar and drag him in for a kiss.

“That never gets old,” Steve murmurs, his mouth quirked in amusement as he settles in next to both of you, but his eyes are intense as he, seemingly content, watches for now. As you break for air, Bucky takes the opportunity to grab the back of Steve’s head and move in for a kiss just as hungry as the one he just gave you.

“It really, really doesn’t,” you say and lick your lips. Bucky’s attention is drawing back to you, as is Steve’s. You pull the shoulder of your shirt aside to show your bra strap and wink at Steve. His eyes go pleasantly wide.

“So we’re really doing the honeymoon, huh?” he asks, a full grin spreading across his face. Bucky looks confused, but intrigued.

“The dress is in no shape to participate, but the rest of it is fine,” you say.

“What’s this?” Bucky asks as you sit up and wrap your arms around him. Mostly to stay up– your core strength is nonexistent.

“Go on Bucky,” Steve says, laying on his side and unbuttoning his pants with one hand. “Make your wife more comfortable.”

Bucky’s eyes shine so bright looking at you that you elect to watch his hands as he starts pulling your shirt up, alternately grazing and dragging his fingers across your skin. “Don’t worry,” you say, lips turned into an expression that feels appropriately devilish. “Your husband won’t keep his hands to himself for long.”

True to form, Steve doesn’t, and soon the three of you are a tangle of limbs and love.

When all is said and done, you’re all in a contented pile.

Except there's one thing missing. You clear your throat. Bucky looks, but Steve doesn’t. You clear your throat again, and this time Steve lifts his head.

“Aren't you forgetting something?” you say and look at Bucky’s one-ring hand and at Steve and at the hand and at Steve and at the hand and at–

“Yeah, what the hell; I thought this was a two-spouse minimum household,” Bucky says. “How am I gonna meet my quota if you hold back on me, Rogers?”

Steve rolls his eyes and flops his hand back on the nightstand which, to you, looks suspiciously empty. “Are you sure, Buck? She’s like a five-in-one special.”

“Nice try,” Bucky says and watches Steve fumble uselessly for a nice ring that isn’t there. “I’ve been putting up with you too long to let you get outta making an honest man of me.”

Steve turns to look and sees the ring isn’t there. You glare at him but he puts his finger up while the loading widget in his brain circles– and then he digs around under his pillow. Bucky waits. You wait. Steve then pulls up his pillows and shoves his arm down the crack between the headboard and the mattress. Bucky shakes with quiet laughter and you gape. “I swear to God if you break my ring, Steven Grant Rogers…”

“The only way it’s getting broken is if it came out of a box of Cracker-Jacks,” he mutters and fishes for it.

“I thought of that but the only Cracker-Jacks I could find had stickers,” you say, not intending to admit to the five different stores you went to and examined thoroughly. You wouldn’t say you’re banned from any of them, but maybe it’s best not to go back to that Wegman’s anymore. At least, not during the night manager’s shift.

Steve stops and looks at you. “Seriously?”

“I thought it would be cute!” You cock your head at him. “Also how long have you known me that you’re still asking that?”

He grins and leans over to give you a kiss– and then props himself up on one arm as he gives Bucky a sweet smile, holding up the (slightly dusty) box. “Hey jerk.”

Bucky snorts. “Hey punk.”

Steve breaks out the soulful eyes and opens the box. “Marry me?”

You snicker to yourself and Bucky sighs as though put upon, but he holds out his hand and Steve slides the ring on. Right on top of yours. “Knew I was stuck with you when you tried to shove me and ended up right on your ass,” he says and kisses Steve. “Yes.”

The next morning you put down the silverware, stick Cracker-Jack stickers on their cheeks, and you all go on in your lives– as husband, husband, and wife.

~The End~

~Omake~

“Wait.” Bucky looks at the rings, then at you. “How did you get my measurements?”

You smile sweetly.

Steve stares at you, and sighs. “Did you have Natasha break in again?”

“No.” They stare at you. “Really!” More staring. “…Maybe.” They glare at you. “It’s Russian Spy Enrichment!” You throw up your hands. “God forbid I help out my friends.”

Both of them groan. It’s okay– as far as you’re concerned, they’re stuck with you.

~ The End (for real!)~

#steve rogers x bucky barnes x reader #captain america reader insert #avengers reader insert

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