#gold roger x reader

[getonite]

WHERE IS THE ROGER X READER X RAYLEIGH FICS??? DO I HAVE TO DO IT MYSELF OMG. THAT'S THE TAG TEAM YALL. THIS IS THE LIVE TRIANGLE BLUEPRINT.

[badgerbl00d]

omg can ypu write something with one bed trope with shanks, rayleigh, rosinante/corazon and (if you’re comfortable writing him) maybe doffy?

I’d love if it could be like mutual pining ish and not established relationships 🫶

i don’t have a preference for how it’s written (like headcanons, blurbs etc) so just however you like it! i love to read the things you write 🤩

only one bed trope with the one piece boys

☆ characters: shanks, roger, benn, rayleigh

☆ up next: taking an aphrodisiac with them and seeing who gives in first w/ one piece boys

☆ a/n: absolutely loved this request! i'm still on marineford so i'm not super familiar with cora and doffy, but i promise i'll make up for their absence in this fic in the future ;3. enjoy!

shanks

It was a calm day at sea, with steady winds and vibrant sunlight.

Being a Red-Haired pirate meant drinking, and fighting, and a lot of playing cards, and more drinking.

As time passed you’d grown somewhat envious of crews with women on them. You longed to spend your idle time with other women, painting your nails, gossiping, even just spending time together. 

Your crewmates tried as best they could, but there was only so much hair braiding grown men could tolerate. 

Shanks, out of all of them, was the most eager to help you feel more at home. He let you paint his nails- though you were limited to red and black polish. He let you teach him how to make sugar scrubs, and even sometimes, if he wanted to “relax and rejuvenate” himself, he’d do facemasks with you.

You’d always thought he was handsome, even before you’d joined the crew. And had more than once found yourself staring at his wanted posters. But to be on the seas with him was an entirely different experience. The friendship that accompanied piracy was unexpected, but an unbelievably close bond. 

You felt the same about all your crewmates, they were family and you knew you’d readily die for them. But you didn’t get the same butterflied around all of them that you got around Shanks.

When it was late at night and you were still outside completely unaware of the dropping temperatures and waning moonlight, he’d find himself making his way out of his cabin to find you and lead you back to bed, offering to braid your hair the way you taught him.

More often than not, you’d accept his offer, soaking in how gently he took your hair into his hands, his knuckles softly grazing the back of your neck. 

You’d been lounging outside on the deck where the sun shone brightest, taking advantage of the unusually pleasant weather.

 You laid out on a towel, the sun bathing you in that kind of pleasantly ebbing heat that makes you feel like it was coming from within. 

You could feel your skin tanning, glowing, and glistening as the ship gently rocked back and forth. 

Your bikini was tiny, a necessary measure to ensure that you got evenly bronzed, and you’d happily sauntered past your crewmates, unbothered by their playful whistles and cheers as you walked past them toward your spot. 

After a peaceful fifteen minutes of sunbathing, you were joined by your captain.

“Mind if I tan with you?”

“Not at all, Captain.”

Shanks smiled, you knew he liked when you called him that. 

He laid down next to you, your arms grazing one another. 

You felt yourself dozing off, before a loud bang! woke you up.

You and Shanks both shot up, running toward the source of the sound, along with the rest of the crew. 

A plug had gotten shot out of the hull of the ship and water had started flooding it. 

Fuck, you thought, my room’s gonna flood.

Shanks and Benn barked commands at the crew and you all started working towards plugging the source of the flooding. 

You were limited in your ability to help, given that you were still in a bikini and knew a lot less than your crewmates about plugging holes. 

Shanks laughed as you got soaked by the water and by the time the problem was solved, he was out of breath. 

You made your way back up to where you’d been, hoping to have caught some more sun before having to face your definitely flooded room. When you were greeted with the warm orange and purple hues of sunset, you headed to the kitchen for a beer. 

You sat on the counter and turned when a slight knock on the wall beckoned your attention.

“Hey, Shanks.”

“So,” he started, not wanting to upset you, “Your room got-”

“Flooded. Yeah, I figured.”

You sighed, there was nothing of significant importance in there, and you knew you could buy new things, but it was going to be a pain in the ass.

“Thanks for confirming, though. I’ll go and buy new stuff next time we dock. The lack of a bed kind of sucks though,” you polished off the beer in your hand. 

“Sleep with me,” he said.

“Ha. ha.” 

“What? I’m being serious!”

You paused to consider it. 

“Shanks, c’mon. I’ll take a bunk in the men’s quarters.”

“Not sure that’s any better.”

You laughed, “It’s definitely not.”

He got up and extended a hand toward you, which, after a moment of hesitation, you took. 

“You don’t even need to grab anything, I have a bunch of extra shirts.”

“And an extra toothbrush?”

He smiled at you, “We can share that too.”

“Ugh, gross.”

You waited until you were really tired to actually make your way over to his bedroom, hesitating before you finally knocked on the door. 

He opened it, and it was clear he’d made his best attempt to clean up his room for you. 

You sat on the poorly made bed and told him his room looked nice. 

“Good enough to sleep in?”

“Perfect.”

He smiled with pride. It was sort of adorable. 

He sat on the other edge of the bed, unexpectedly awkwardly. 

You decided to lay down and make yourself comfortable, you pulled the covers over yourself.

“Very soft,” you noted.

He lightly laughed and followed in suit, situating himself under the covers. 

You had your backs to one another- it felt too foreign like you didn’t know one another. 

You flipped over, “Shanks turn around.”

He happily obliged, turning with a goofy smile plastered on his face.

Reaching down, he pulled the covers up to cover your arms and the two of you talked about anything and everything. 

Neither of you remembered falling asleep. 

You woke up later than usual the next morning, the sun was already high and beaming through the Captain’s window. The soft duvet that covered you seemed as though it was trying to keep you in bed, and it had the generous aid of Shanks, who had a strong arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him. 

He was still asleep, it seemed, and was breathing gently. 

You should’ve been up hours ago to get all your chores and work done…  but you had a feeling that the Captain might let you off the hook this one time.

Sleep started to weigh down your eyelids again, and you let it wash over you, snuggling back into Shanks’ chest. You fell asleep quickly, but not before feeling him press a soft kiss 

to the back of your head. 

roger

The warm bath water, full of bubbles and essential oils, soaked into your skin, slowly sloshing back and forth and back and forth along with the steady lull of the ship.

The few moments you got to yourself were always cherished. They were rare, and when they did happen you always felt anxious, but you finally felt as though you could relax. 

You dipped your head below the water a few times, letting your hair soak, braiding it over your shoulder as you closed your eyes and let yourself let go of all the anxieties, and worries, and stresses that came with being a Roger pirate. 

The dim warmth from the candles paired perfectly with the bit of moonlight that made its way through the bathroom window.

And, like clockwork, when you’d allowed yourself to indulge in the moment and started to finally relax;

Knock. Knock.

You sat up, sighing.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Come in,” you arranged the bubbled around yourself as the door opened.

Roger walked his head in, and just as quickly covered his eyes when he saw you in the bath.

“Sorry, Y/n,” he laughed, “Didn’t know you were taking a bath!”

“Right. Because that definitely isn’t what bath-rooms are for.”

He sheepishly tugged at the collar of his shirt, his hand still resting on his face.

“So…” he started, clearly guilty of something.

“Just tell me what happened.”

“Right. Right, well, you see, Rayleigh and I thought we might work on getting the boys to bond a bit more.. Since they fight so much.”

You sat in the tub, watching as he struggled to tell you why he really interrupted your alone time, not saying anything.

“Companionship is the most important thing for good pirates. Establishing connections. There is no better greatness than being loved, than having a partner, someone to rely on. And well, the boys are so young and they bicker so much and fight day in and day out, and so we figured we’d try and start patching that up while they’re still just kids-”

“The point, Roger?”

“Yes-” he stumbled over his words, “Yes- the point. Alright, so Rayleigh suggests a friendly game of catch, seeing as they were in good spirits and they agreed and so we started, just with simple baseballs at first.”

He slowly took his hand off his eyes and searched your face for some kind of expression, anything.

You gave him nothing, but your impatience was evident.

He cleared his throat, “And the boys seemed to enjoy it so I- so we suggested using something more challenging and… R-rayleigh found a bowling ball.”

You’d tried to keep a completely neutral expression, to keep him on edge. But at this, your eyebrows failed you and furrowed. 

Still, you said nothing.

“And Shanks- strong boy, very adept and- and promising.. He, well, unintentionally of course-”

“Roger.”

He nodded and swallowed hard. “He threw it through your window. There’s glass everywhere. It broke the bedframe, there’s a dent in your wall. It-it’s a mess. That they’re cleaning.”

You remained silent. Wordlessly you stood up, earning an uneasy laugh from your Captain as he debated whether or not to cover his eyes again. He chose not to.

You walked toward him, reached past his shoulder, your nose grazing the tip of his, and grabbed your towel. 

You dried yourself off and wrapped the towel around yourself.

“So where am I sleeping tonight?”

Roger smiled.

“No.”

“Would you rather sleep with Rayleigh? Or share a bed with the boys?”

You huffed. 

You’d decided to take the right side of the bed, since it was closer to the door and, as you had so eloquently put it, “Get the hell out of here” in the morning. 

Roger had laughed when you’d said that and despite your best efforts to stay upset you smiled at him. 

The two of you lay down on your backs, facing the ceiling. 

“Comfortable?” he asked. “No.”

He shifted and brought two arms around your waist pulling you into him.

Your cheeks turned a violent shade of pink, you didn’t like not being in control.

“Roger!”

“Nuh-uh,” he said, “Captain’s orders.”

You sighed but obliged, letting him spoon you. 

His arms were strong and you could feel the muscles of his chest through the thin t-shirt he wore. 

“You’re hugging too tight!”

He relented, albeit slightly.

You pushed his arms out and crawled on top of him, laying down on his chest, resting your head on your hand which was propped up by your elbow.

He laced his hands together and brought his arms up behind his head, laying on the pillow and looking at you.

You liked this more, you were on top.

“Better?” he asked.

You nodded. 

“Do you ever worry about those two?”

He smiled one of his signature smiles at you, “No.”

You pinched his chest.

“Ok! Ok- yes,” he admitted, bringing a hand down to rub at the spot you pinched, “Christ, woman.”

You ignored him, “So do I. But it’s only because I know they’ll both be great. In one way or another.”

“Or another,” he laughed.

You woke up in the middle of the night, your arms wrapped around your Captain’s neck, head on his chest. His arms were around your waist and he was out cold, lightly snoring. 

You smiled and pressed kisses wherever you could reach.

In the morning, your anger would return and you’d give both him and the boys an earful. Rayleigh, too, if he wasn’t smart enough to wait out your temper. 

But for now? 

You’d sleep. 

When Roger woke up the next morning your side of his bed was empty. He groggily sat up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

When was the last time I slept that well? he thought to himself.

There was more sunlight entering his room than usual and he turned toward the source of it.

There, right in the center of his wall was a gaping hole, perfectly round. 

On the floor beneath it was a bowling ball. 

He stood up, contemplating the mess in his room. He looked through the whole to find you barking at Shanks and Buggy to continue mopping the floors. You had a ruler in your hands and Buggy was rubbing the back of his head. 

He laughed, loudly. 

‘I think I’m in love,’ he thought, before going out to join you in yelling at the two. 

benn

“I’d like to apologize in advance,” Shanks announced to the crew, earning several groans in return.

“Yes, yes,” he continued, “Well, as it would happen, I miscounted. Two people are going to have to share a bed.”

This time the crew responded with some cheers and whoops, and you heard more than one person mention your name. 

You sighed.

Hopefully, it was Lucky and Yasopp. They probably shared their bed anyway.

“To decide fairly, Benny here suggested we draw straws.”

More groans from the crew.

“Tough crowd,” Benn mused. 

Shanks held up a plastic cup with a bunch of wooden sticks in it like a child at an arts and crafts fair. 

He shuffled them around before drawing two. 

The air was hilariously tense. 

Who cares if they have to share a bed? you thought to yourself. 

“Benn! Haha!” he laughed, “And…. Y/n!”

The crew erupted into a cacophony of whoops and cheers. 

Your cheeks darkened and you nibbled at the inside of your cheek. 

Of course.

You made brief eye contact with Benn, who looked as cool and composed as ever. 

Noticed only by your Captain, was the slight blush that dusted his cheeks. 

The room was smaller than either of you had expected. 

And so was the bed. You’d have to practically be on top of each other. 

“I’m more than good on the floor, you take the bed. I only ask for a pillow.”

You gave him a look.

“I’m not gonna let you sleep on the floor Benn, and there’s only one pillow.”

You both sat in silence staring at the bed.

“I’m sure there’s a way… to work this out.”

You giggled, “In a 2-foot wide bed?”

Benn smiled. 

“It’s funny. We’d die for each other in battle but a bed is where things get awkward.”

“It’s only awkward ‘cause you’re so awkward.”

He looked down at you, a somewhat insulted expression resting on his face. 

“I’m fine sleeping with you!” 

He raised a brow.

“N-no! No! Not like that! I’d never- I just meant like…” you gestured broadly toward the bed

“You’d never, hm?”

“See what I meant about you making things awkward?”

He laughed.

Sitting on the bed made things less tense, you folded your legs, sat on your heels, and faced Benn who sat leaning against the wall with his legs hanging off the bed.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette, searching for a lighter. 

He came up empty-handed.

“I have one,” you said, reaching into the front pocket of your bag to grab your pink lighter.

“Cute,” he leaned forward, cigarette between his lips, lighting it. 

You flipped through some pages of a magazine as Benn read.

“Can I try it?”

“Be a little more specific, sweetheart.”

Your body warmed up at the nickname.

“Smoking.”

“Are you sure?”

You nodded eagerly, reaching for the cigarette that still resided between your vice-captain’s lips.

A large hand wrapped around your wrist before you could reach it. 

You blinked to look up at Benn, “Let me help.”

He took the cigarette from his lips and brought it to yours, which were already so obediently parted. 

You inhaled the smoke, your lips closing around the cigarette, gently brushing Beckman’s fingers. 

“Take it easy,” he said. 

You breathed in, tears pooling in the bottom of your eyes, and tried to hold it in, but found yourself stuck in a spasm of coughing. 

Benn laughed, and rubbed your back, before taking another puff himself. 

You scooted closer to him, emboldened by the burning heat in your lungs, and were practically on his lap.

“Let me try again,” you asked, “Guide me.”

“Okay.”

He held the cigarette to your lips, and you awaited instruction.

“Gently suck in the smoke- don’t inhale, just suck lightly.”

You obeyed, your lips softly closing around the soft paper, drawing in the smoke to the back of your throat.

“Good,” he praised, pulling the cig away from your lips, “Now hold it there for a moment, let it warm your mouth.”

You held it, turning to look up at him.

It took him a moment to find the words he was looking for, what with a majority of your ass on his lap, your hands resting on his chest, your eager doe eyes looking up at him- he was getting rather distracted.

“L-like that, yeah.”

“Mm-mmm?” What’s next?

He smiled, lightly laughing, “Now just inhale through your mouth as you normally would, but do it slowly.

Your lips formed a perfect ‘O’ as you inhaled the smoke, feeling a deeply satisfying burning sensation spreading through your lungs. 

Benn had opened the room’s main window earlier, and a cool breeze had found its way in. You got up, to Benn’s obvious disappointment, and closed it. 

This time when you sat back down, you inched yourself the rest of the way forward, making your way fully onto his lap. 

Maybe it was the smoke that had started filling the room or the fact that now you two were alone and touching there was no point in denying what you’d been feeling for one another, but this time, as he drew the cigarette from his mouth you leaned forward and placed your lips on his. 

His lips closed back around yours, slowly at first- not out of hesitation but indulgence. 

You felt his tongue lightly swipe your plump lower lip, teeth gently pressing down against it, and you released a staggered breath into his mouth.

Your heart was pounding against your chest as your mouth flooded with the flavors of tobacco and an unidentifiable clean taste, almost like lemon. 

His hands found the fat of your ass, and as he laid his back against the bedrest, now fully taking up the bed, he lifted you up so you were fully on his lap, your thighs straddling his hips. 

A strong arm trailed up your back, resting his hand against the base of your neck, gently pulling backward to give him access to your throat. 

He placed hot, open-mouthed kisses to your neck, his tongue swiping over every place he kissed. It made you incredibly sensitive and you started to softly squirm in his grip, moaning his name between kisses, holding half-lidded eye contact as strings of saliva connected your mouths. 

You didn’t sleep much, despite Benn’s sincere efforts to get you both to bed.  The last thing you vividly recalled before sleep outweighed your desire for more of him was how overwhelmingly sweet and sensitive his touch was on your body- how softly he handled you. His strong arms massaging your back and palming your tits. 

The next morning you both awoke to a violent knocking on your door.

“Vice Captain! The Captain is requesting your presence, immediately!”

You groaned as you slowly opened your eyes, the idea of leaving the intoxicating warmth of your bed making your head hurt. 

To your delight, Benn simply wrapped his arms tighter around you and flipped you both over to face away from the door. 

“Tell him to fuck off! I’m busy!”

You giggled, knowing that the crew would put two and two together. 

For a moment you worried about how they’d react- was this something that could potentially be dangerous? 

As though reading your thoughts Benn gave you another reassuring hug, his hands finding your boobs, lightly squeezing them. 

“Worry about it later, Sweetheart.”

And just like that, you fell back asleep. 

rayleigh

“Tired already?” Rayleigh teased, handing you the beer you’d sent him to grab.

“It’s ten past three, I should’ve been in bed hours ago.”

He laughed, rubbing your back.

“I figured you’d have gotten used to the late nights after a good expedition.”

You shrugged, “I guess, but I’m never more tired than when we’re done with an ‘expedition’.”

He smiled at your air quotes around his term. 

You popped open the can of beer he’d handed you and took a few big sips. 

The moon was full and the clear sky ahead meant perfect travel conditions for when the crew set sail tomorrow morning. 

The salty air smelled like home, and you took a few deep breaths. 

It was chilly out, but the fire in front of you more than made up for it, and you felt warm inside from the several beers you’d downed. 

The ship was still full of life, but it was now concentrated into small groups of partiers that were somehow still awake. 

Your captain was, of course, one of the main contributors.

You leant against Rayleigh as the both of you watched him and laughed. 

Your vision slowly blurred as you closed your eyes. 

A not-so-gentle tap on your shoulder woke you up. You blinked your eyes open, suddenly aware of how cold it was. 

A pair of strong arms were wrapped around your body, carrying you bridal style.

“What the hell?”

“Calm down,” Rayleigh replied, “You fell asleep and I figured I’d bring you to your room but it’s- uh, occupied.”

“What does that mean?”

You jumped out of Rayleigh’s arms and peeked into your room to see what was going on.

Shanks and Buggy were passed out on your bed, several alcohol bottles littering the floor. They were sleeping back to back like a pair of milk-drunk kittens. 

“I don’t wanna move them,” Rayleigh explained, “Or they won’t sleep for a week- what with all that alcohol in their system.”

You hated to agree but the two boys were energy houses if you’d ever seen one, it was best to let them sleep when they slept. 

“Okay, I’ll take one of their bunks then. Not ideal but if it keeps them out of the way…”

You walked into the room to grab your toothbrush and makeup remover and slipped past your vice-captain to head toward the men’s barracks. 

“Y/n, sweetheart,” he called out to you, “Hold on a sec, will ya?”

You turned, “Rayleigh, I’m tired and I haven’t showered yet- what do you want?”

He walked toward you, approaching you with his typical confidence, standing in front of you so as to block your path. 

“Why don’t you spend the night in my room, hm?”

You rolled your eyes, and pushed him to the side, too tired to entertain him. 

He grabbed your wrists as you tried to walk away, pulling you into his chest.

He stood you still, wrist still in hand, and bent down to talk in your ear, and for some reason you let him. 

“I’d like to use this opportunity to remind you that my room has its own private shower.”

You sighed.

“And a bath.”

Private bathroom… clean sheets…. Rayleigh. You thought about it for a second.  

“Okay, fine but only this once.”

His room was bigger than expected. You had half a mind to chew him out for living like this while half the crew was stuck sharing bathrooms and beds, but you supposed that was one of the perks of being vice-captain.

“What do you think?”

He winked at you.

“It’ll do, I guess. Where’s the shower?”

He laughed, and despite your best efforts to not inflate his ego, you also smiled.

He pointed toward the bathroom and you entered.

You stepped out of the shower and looked for a towel, failing to find one.

Fuck. 

“Rayleigh! Where are your towels?”

“Top drawer, sweetheart!”

Double fuck. 

You inhaled, “Rayleigh?”

“Hm?”

“I can’t… reach.”

You could practically hear the infuriating smile spreading over his face.

“Coming,” he said, his voice had a slight lilt to it. 

He knocked before he entered and you covered yourself as best you could. Not like he hadn’t seen this much before, right? You’d worn bikinis on board. 

Wrong. He walked in and was struggling to keep his eyes off of you, a light blush spreading across his cheeks.

This made you feel good- great, even. To have Silvers Rayleigh blushing at the sight of you? Scoundrel or not, you’d take it. 

He grabbed you a towel and eagerly turned around to hand it to you. 

“You know you’re gonna have to remove at least one hand to grab it right?”

“Which would you like me to remove?”

He seemed slightly taken aback at your sudden reciprocation of energy. 

“Surprise me.”

He looked down at you with an intensity that you almost recognized- but this was different. You’d seen how he looked at enemies, at pirates and warlords he was planning on killing, but this? This was full of desire and lust.

Surprise me, his words echoed in your head. 

He was so irritatingly arrogant. So self assured. You figured a lesson might be useful. 

Before he could register what was happening you landed a heavy slap to his face, and wrapped the towel around yourself.

He held his cheek in shock, watching you walk out.

“Pervert.”

You got into his bed, not bothering to put on any clothes. 

Extremely aware of his hawk-like watch on you, you sat up in bed and peeled the towel off. You faced away from him, to ensure he wouldn’t get the satisfaction of seeing anything. 

You slipped under the covers and turned off the lamp at your bedside. 

Within seconds you felt Rayleigh crawling into bed, wrapping an arm around your waist and pressing kisses to your neck.

“Pretty as you are, you give me a headache, you know that?”

“I know.”

Another kiss to your neck. 

He trailed a hand up and down your arm, lulling you to sleep. 

Yawning, you felt sleep start to settle into your body, feeling as though gravity was pulling you down further into the mattress. 

“This won’t happen again, Ray.”

“I know.”

Three weeks later, you woke up in your Vice Captain’s bedroom for the ninth time since that night. 

His hands were tangled on and around you and he was snoring loudly. 

You turned to face him, his arms stayed wrapped around you. 

“G’morning,” he yawned, “Sleep good?”

You kissed him, and then kissed him again, and again. 

“I did.”

[littlemochabunni]

Dilf dilf dilf me down….

Daddy kink + size kink fs minors fuck off plz n thanks 🤭

“D-daddy! S-slow down sh-shit!~” you try pushing on his hips from thick cock bullying your cunt with his frantic animalistic pace. He grips your wrist and pins your arm behind your back as he’s too lost in the feeling of your sopping cunt around his cock. His groans and loud grunts outmatched your screams and the sound of the headboard banging— breaking against the ship’s walls, “Fuuck baby just one more~ one more.”

Your eyes roll back and you toes curl as he hit you with another, seemly never ending, orgasm of the day. “Fuck fuck fuck ’m cumming daaaddy fuuuuck waait!” He again ignores your pleas as he continues to fuck you through your hard orgasm and moans just as loud with you, “God ya squeezing’ my cock so much baby ahh shit…. Do that again—sing f’me~…..”

SHANKS, Beckman Mihawk, Rayleigh, Whitebeard, Roger, Kaido|Toji, SATORU, Suguru, Joel, TENGEN, & any of your favs <3

[viiiiiiiiiin]

How they confess their love for you !! PT. 2

Includes: Shanks , Buggy , Roger , Rayleigh , Shakky , Smoker , Tashigi , Mihawk.

Pt. 1 , Pt. 2 (Here) , Pt. 3

Masterlist

Red Haired: Shanks

He's been with many women , men , and people in between. Hookups , bar dates , etc. He never thought he'd actually catch feelings for one of his flings until he met you.

You were surprised to join his crew (since it was all men) , but you proved to be a great comrade.

He loves how headstrong you are , how captivating you look , how you battle , and so much more.

He became increasingly more obvious that he was head over heels for you , as pointed out by one of his conversations with Mihawk himself.

One night , during a celebrating , the crew was mostly drunk , eating , or dancing. Shanks was one of the drunken pirates laying around.

He was hanging out near you. You watched him since you weren't drunk and wanted to make sure he was okay.

While he rested his head in your lap , he told you how beautiful / handsome you are to him. While you processed his words , he continued about how he much he loves you.

But he vaguely remembered saying those things in the morning. Mostly because you were there , laying beside him.

Buggy the Clown

He was oblivious to his feelings for you.

When you joined up with him , he felt as if he was on top of the world because of having someone strong like you on his side.

Eventually , he fell head over heels for you. It was extremely obvious. He had a huge soft spot for you , would only listen to you , would turn red around you , would yell at you less , etc.

He couldn't even tell until Alvida brought it up to him. She told him that what he felt was love and he FREAKED out.

He's never been in love before. He doesn't know how to handle his emotions and such , so he tries to distance himself from you to make the feelings fade.

But they only grew.

One day , you brought some food to his room. You wanted to see if he was okay. You didn't bother knocking since he knew it was you.

You placed it on his desk and sat near him to check in on him.

That was a mistake.

As soon as you did , he blurted out a bunch of nonsense. The only thing you caught was that he was in love with you.

You told him you felt the same and surprised the fuck out of him.

Pirate King: Gol D. Roger

He was also oblivious to the fact he was in love with you , but his entire crew knew.

Even Buggy and Shanks knew.

Rayleigh talked to him about it and Roger admitted that you did make him feel weird. Though , he never thought anything of it. He though you were just his closest companion.

Rayleigh told him that he was in love with you and he should just tell you.

And he did.

As bluntly as possible.

He didn't even sugar coat it.

He just straight up told you on a random day while you two were hanging our.

It shocked the fuck out of you , but you told him you felt the same.

That same , handsome smile that's always on his face grew.

His entire crew was in SHOCK.

They knew how he felt , but they didn't expect him to confess like this.

Dark King: Silvers Rayleigh

He's a very wise man. He's the righthand of the pirate king , so he has to be (also because Roger is a bubble head who runs right into danger with a smile on his face).

He knew. He knew the second that his heart skipped a beat around you. He accepted it and observed you silently.

Like Robin , he finds out your hobbies and stuff you like.

When he finally decides its the right time to confess , he gets you some flowers and confesses to you on a beach island you his landed on.

You were shocked. You never expected the DARK KING himself to be in love with you. Especially because you felt the same.

You told him you felt the same , and he embraced you. He held onto you for God knows how long , but you both enjoyed it.

Former Empress of Amazon Lily: Shakuyaku (Shakky)

Like Rayleigh , she is very wise. That's why she runs a rip - off bar . . .

She realized she was in love with you almost immediately. It was obvious because she fell into the same illness that those before her did.

The Love Sickness.

She was obsessed with you and would flirt with you at any chance she got. She would do anything she could to turn your face beat red.

She knew what embarrassed you and what flustered you.

She used this and asked you to be her significant other , seemingly joking. This happened at her bar.

You asked if she was joking and she shook her head while smiling.

You agreed and she resigned as the empress of Amazon Lily.

You moved to Sabaody to be with her and run her bar with her.

White Chase: Smoker

Though he seems gruff , he has a massive soft side for G5 and his comrades. That includes you.

In fact , he had a bigger soft spot for you. You got away with more shenanigans , you got to hang out with him more , etc. G5 and Tashigi noticed.

He didn't , but they sure as hell did. They would tease poor Smoker about his little crush all. day.

Any chance they got , they would hook you guys up. On an island ? You twos re going together. Gotta run some errands ? Smoker and Reader can handle it !

Eventually , his feelings grew unbearable.

One evening , when you two were dining together after a battle , he blurted out his feelings.

After realizing what he did , he looked away in shame.

But you held his hand and told him you felt the same.

Though you two are together now , G5 still teases him about you.

"Captain" Tashigi

It was obvious to literally everyone , even Smoker.

She's always so nervous around you. She stumbles more often , her face is always pink around you , etc. She even works harder when you're around ! (She wants to show you that she's strong)

Even you noticed.

G5 teased her about it and did the same thing they did to Smoker. They would hook you guys up as much as possible.

Eventually , you just confessed your love to her because you knew she wouldn't do it. She told you she felt the same and you two got together.

Hawkeye: Dracule Mihawk

He could tell as soon as it came up. He's a smart man.

Since you started living with him , he knew it would most likely happen. However , he wasn't exactly sure how to tell you.

He decided to ask Perona about her opinion. Upon hearing his feelings for you , she freaked out and cheered for him.

She gave him a BUNCH of tips , pointers , and stuff like that. She told him to surprise you with flowers , dinner , and stuff you liked.

Which he did.

He brought you to the Baratie , the place famous for its food. He knew you liked that place because you grew up around the owner.

He took you there and let you go crazy with whatever you wanted to order.

At the end of yalls little dinner date , he handed you a black rose and informed you of his feelings.

With dead eyes. Like , he wasn't even nervous.

You were though.

You turned red but told him you felt the same.

He was very happy , even if he didn't look it.

He brought you back to the castle and ended the night with wine and reading (with you , of course).

[bigtreefest]

Chapter 1: Digging For Gold

From: You Catch More Bees With Honey Series

Pairing: Mob! Bucky x Farmer! Reader

Summary: Bucky doesn’t always have to personally negotiate his business dealings, but what happens when one of them insists they’ll only deal with him? He heads out to the country to get it sorted, of course.

Word Count: 2,167

Content/Warnings: light mob themes, mentions of misogyny/ Bucky’s attempt at it, fem reader with minimal descriptions, minimal use of y/n, use of a pet name (Honey), Sam and Steve teasing Bucky and Bucky having none of it. Content below the cut.

Author’s Note: Well here it is— my first fic publication! I literally never write, but I’ve felt so motivated to get this down. Idek how I wrote this many words bc lord knows I’m not doing the same for school. Anyway, I digress. I hope you all enjoy. Comments, suggestions, asks, and reblogs are soooo appreciated!! Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Next >

Bucky was used to being turned down at first. In the fact, he was used to being turned down two, three, four times before getting his way. He always got his way, until it came to you. He had been trying to seal this deal for what was going on months now. Usually by his fifth ask, his clients got some sense into them, and in this case, sense means a threat of lead through the heart by a henchman. But that hadn’t phased you at all. If anything, it encouraged you to keep pushing back. A real piece of work, this girl was. Each time someone went to negotiate, they came back with their head hung low, sending in their boss to deal with her next as she had requested. Just for that cocky bastard to leave and come back doing the same. Why were they giving into your requests? They couldn’t help themselves when you had that convincing way about you, and neither could Bucky, even if he wanted to deny it to everyone around him. After months of asking for the next boss, you had finally reached James Buchanan Barnes: the head of his mob. Known for his ruthless nature, no one had ever come out of a deal saying ‘no’ to him. If they said no, they didn’t come out of the deal, simple as that. No one had seen his soft spots, and his buttons weren’t to be pushed. Too many had found out the hard way. The only one who could get away with it was his best friend who had known him since childhood Steve. More like a brother, and his only family left, at that. But it looked like he had a soft spot for you, letting you get away with dismissing these meetings, which is exactly why he needed to go himself: to show he wasn’t soft. To show that he could close the deal and his men lacked discipline when they fell to your kind charm. He’d go to this meeting and then wash his hands of the issue, making the deal he decided he had wanted months ago. He got into the back of his black town car and shut the door, directing the driver to start the long journey to the farm.

As he sat in the car, he wondered why the partition was up, as he heard singing faintly coming from the other side. He pushed the button for it to come down, to be greeted by a familiar pair of blue eyes that belonged to his best friend Steve and the back of Sam’s head.

“Oh heyyy boss. Fancy seeing you here,” Sam said keeping his eyes on the road and turning down the radio.

“Where’s Gio?” Bucky barked back.

“Oh calm down. He’s home relaxing with his family. Sam and I gave him the day off. Figured you’d need our help,” Steve said with a small shrug.

Bucky grumbled to himself something about being the boss while Steve and Sam exchanged a quick glance in the front seat before Sam spoke up again.

“Listen Boss, she’s already been through both of us. Obviously we can’t tell you how to succeed, but we can tell you what to expect going in there.”

“Plus we can remind you what we’re really here for and give you back-up none of us had the luxury of” Steve interjected, “the fact that you’ve waited this long shows you’ve got a soft spot for her, and we can’t afford to push this deal back any farther.”

Bucky knew that. He knew it was coming down to the wire “First off, I do not have a soft spot. Not since I was little, and you know that. I’d have anyone else’s head for even thinking such a thing. And second, if it’s so easy, why couldn’t you two have sealed this deal last month when you went, then? Huh?”

At that, Steve snapped his mouth shut and Sam kept his head forward, not daring to glance back at the mob boss whose jaw was clenched with anticipation.

“That’s what I thought. But go ahead, speak now or forever hold your peace, because when I go in there, I need to come out with a deal.”

He’d never let anyone besides his right-hand and number three men know how on edge he was for this meeting. He looked out the window hoping for the best and that his hard outer persona wouldn’t crack today as Sam and Steve started with their briefing.

When Sam pulled off of the pavement and onto the dirt driveway, Bucky’s eyes absorbed the rolling hills and abundant trees. It was beautiful, but nothing like his city. He enjoyed the tight spaces and routine rigidity of concrete. This was a different world. Her land was sprawling, far further than the crop fields sat. Acres for the cattle to graze and others that laid fallow. It was built over old mines. That’s why he wanted it all: for the tunnels. It would be so much easier to store and move his product, cutting transportation time and having discreet underground facilities if he could just strike a deal, but he’d finally met his match without even meeting her yet. A woman just as stubborn as him, but opposite in every other way.

Sam pulled up in front of a beautiful farm house. Modest, but chic and well cared for. Leaning against one of the posts that framed the front porch was her. Hair hidden under a cowgirl hat, well worn from work-filled days and in a flannel shirt, jeans, and boots showing even more mileage than the hat. Bucky looked out the window and let out a deep breath.

“Wish me luck, boys”

They both just nodded. A more than sufficient acknowledgment in their line of work. Bucky opened the car door and his red bottoms crunched the rocks beneath his feet as he sauntered over to her.

“Ms. Y/L/N. This has been a long time coming.”

“Indeed it has. Good to see you Mr. Barnes. And please, call me Y/N.” Her voice twanged.

Then she flashed him that smile, ugh how he hated that. She wasn’t even trying, but it made him feel an odd warmth that started deep in his chest. One that almost made it seem like it made his heart melt a little. A heart that was stuck in an ice age for as long as he could remember. Still, he couldn’t budge. He had to set an example for his men. How could he push an agenda he couldn’t fulfill? His thoughts continued to race as he stepped up to the bottom of the wooden steps leading to the porch. Not a good start with her literally having the high ground.

“Do your drivers want to come in? I don’t mind gettin’ them some refreshments while we chat.” She offered kindly. How was she so smooth? Bucky glanced back and Steve and Sam gawked at you though Steve’s window. Bucky made a mental note to have that tinted more so no one could see them embarrassing him and themselves in the future.

“No. They’re fine.” Bucky coldly, borderline spat back. “And you can call me by my name, as well, if we’re not doing last names. That’s mostly what I do with those I work closely with”

Bucky wanted to have a firm hand in these business dealings, but he wasn’t a total monster, plus, he knew in most cases, the more comfortable a client was, the more likely they’d give up benefits, sweetening up his own end of the deal. See? He was still working on wrapping you around his finger. He had this down, even if Steve and Sam didn’t think so. At least, that’s what he tried to convince himself as you nodded with a soft smile on your face and led him inside.

Bucky followed you past a living room, flanked by a functional and methodically laid out kitchen. That gave him a better idea of who he was working with: someone who meticulously planned their work environment. Someone who cared for every aspect no matter how small. Everything had a place and made sense. Nothing unnecessary was present and it seemed ergonomic, yet modern and classy, like everything about you. His gaze lingered as long as he could until he had to pull his head forward to continue following you down the hallway to your home office. Once again, practical and functional, with a few papers strewn around a laptop and your other useful desk features. You had everything you needed in arm’s reach, no need to tuck it away in drawers if you were constantly using it and you kept it organized enough that it wasn’t a stressful mess. You gestured for Bucky to take a seat on the couch across from you as you sat in your desk chair and flashed him a smile. Ugh there was that smile again, and this time it got him good and he couldn’t help but dopily smile back, not even aware of what his body was doing.

“James” oh how he hated when you called him that. Sure, it was his formal business name, but the way you said it made him grimace. Yeah, it sounded beautiful from your lips, but its use meant your weren’t close. And that’s all he wanted. Was for you to be close. Up against him, on top of him, engulfing him, drowning him. And he would happily accept that fate. Heck, he was drowning right now in these thoughts about you, but he clawed his way to the surface and shook his head to refocus as you said his name again, noticing his attention had drifted in favor to a blank stare at your lips. He knew with that slip-up, he had to regain control and take charge.

“Listen Honey, you’ve essentially been exterminating every guy I send in here and I don’t like it. All you are is sweet but somehow you’re turning down this deal like a bitter old man would” His sudden stern and almost condescending tone was a huge juxtaposition to the wonderland face you had noticed moments ago. You didn’t like that one bit. Being an independent woman who ran a successful business, you were used to men trying to stomp on you until they had their way. You didn’t stand for it with all of Bucky’s underlings and you weren’t going to stand for it now. You’d regain control and keep your calm demeanor, because you’re that much better than all these other mediocre men in business you dealt with all too often.

“First off, James. Let’s not get into extermination or pesticides. That’s far too complicated of an issue for right now, especially if you don’t understand the simple terms I so graciously asked you for. And if you wanna call something honey, you better be referring to my beehives on the south side of the property. Now, I just want to talk to you so you can see where I’m coming from” you said was a sickeningly sweet smile. He could see it didn’t reach your eyes, still filled with fire and not backing down. But dang if your tone still didn’t match the new nickname he’s given you. Sweet and thick. Bucky for the first time found himself listening to demands from another. He settled down into the couch cushions as you pulled out the contract you’d drafted yourself.

Bucky raised his hands in surrender. “Alright, fine. By all means, let’s get down to business. I wanna see what’s been giving all my men such a hard time that you’ve had to come directly to me.”

Bucky leaned forward to grab the contract from your hands. He flipped through the pages, most of it was identical to what he’d drafted, besides you inflating the numbers. He could handle that, but the last line he saw made his neck muscles go limp as he dropped his head.

“James Barnes will work and stay at the farm for one month’s time, uninterrupted, to learn the gravity, value, and hard work associated with operations.”

He should’ve known, but what was one month? If he was going rn use the mines, he may as well see all the land and livestock that could be affected if things went awry. He’s been doing this job for years, anyway. Maybe he needed the break. He’s sure Steve could control everything else, right? He wouldn’t have waited so long for this deal had he not needed the mine shafts. Your smooth voice broke him out of his thoughts.

“So… what’ll it be, James?”

He looked up at you through his lashes with a smirk you couldn’t quite read as you returned your own smirk, knowing what this meeting meant. Knowing that he wouldn’t have come in person unless he really wanted to make a deal happen.

“Sure Honey, whatever you want”

Next>

[thebunnednun]

Whispers of the Heart Dracule Mihawk x Fm Maid! Reader (Part 6)

I do not own the artwork its by: @xuchuan25 Tell them they're amazing y'all!

Chapter 6. I have decided to drop: THE LORE CHAPTER!!!!

Part 1 can be found: Here

Part 2 is right: Here

Part 3: Right over yonder

Part 4 right here baby!

Part 5 at your service.

And in my typical fashion, this is only part 1.

On with the show!!~ (P.S. Bring some tissues.)

---------------------Chapter 6: Broken memories-----------------------

"Why are you the way that you are?"

As the first rays of the afternoon light filtered through the curtains, you stirred awake, feeling the warmth of Mihawk's embrace enveloping you like a cocoon. You shifted slightly, intending to slip out of his arms and begin your day, but found yourself unable to move. His hold on you was firm yet gentle, anchoring you to him in a way you hadn't expected.

Admiring his peaceful expression, you couldn't help but marvel at the man beside you. Despite his intimidating presence and the reputation that preceded him, there was a vulnerability to him that drew you in. You reached out tentatively, your fingers tracing the contours of his whiskered jawline before playfully poking his cheek.

Mihawk stirred at your touch, his eyes fluttering open as he slowly emerged from sleep. He blinked groggily, his gaze focusing on you with a mixture of surprise and warmth.

"[Name]?" he murmured, his voice husky with sleep.

You smiled, your heart fluttering at the sight of him. "Good morning, Mihawk."

Before he could respond, the door to the room burst open with a resounding bang, startling you both. A young Perona stood in the doorway, her face flushed with excitement.

"Master Mihawk, there's a messenger at the gate. He says it's urgent," she announced breathlessly.

Mihawk's expression shifted to one of mild annoyance, but he nodded. "I'll be there shortly," he replied, his voice carrying an edge of authority that left no room for argument.

As the ghost princess scurried away giggling, Mihawk turned back to you, his gaze softening. "I apologize for the interruption," he said, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face. "It seems peace is a rare commodity here."

You laughed, his comedy was something to behold. "It's alright. I should probably get up and start my chores anyway."

Mihawk's grip tightened slightly, his eyes locking onto yours. "Stay a moment longer," he urged softly. "Let's enjoy the calm before the storm."

You settled back into his embrace, your head resting against his chest. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat was soothing, and you found yourself relaxing despite the impending day. For a few precious moments, the world outside ceased to exist, and it was just the two of you in a bubble of tranquility.

As you lay there, you couldn't help but reflect on how much had changed since you first arrived at Mihawk's castle. The fear and uncertainty had given way to a deeper understanding and connection. Despite the challenges, you had found a place by his side, and it was a comfort you cherished.

Eventually, Mihawk sighed, the sound vibrating through his chest. "I suppose we can't stay here forever," he murmured, reluctantly loosening his hold on you.

You nodded, sitting up and stretching. "Duty calls," you said with a small smile. You strattled his hips momentaruly before stretching and hopping off his form to slide off the bed. You fussed with your hair and began to place the bangles and necklaces you stripped for cuddle purposes back on.

Mihawk's eyes lingered on you for a moment longer before he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood. "If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask," he said, his tone serious.

You nodded, feeling a warmth spread through your chest at his concern. "I will. Thank you, Mihawk." You slipped on your gold colored house slippers and called to Perona if she would like some cookies and he watched your figure leave out the door.

As he left to attend to the messenger, you couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation for the day ahead. Despite the closseness, you knew that you weren't letting him inside. And that made all the difference.

You loved to swim in Mihawks thoughts but you didn't even give him a life preserver for yours. He knew that you were going through a storm most days. Not a depression but rather you were lost at sea.

Only the sea was inside your mind and he desperately wanted to save you.

Mihawk could only wish to know what you were dreaming of.

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

The Meeting of Shanks, Buggy, and [Name]

"Where do you come from?"

The island of [Name]'s birth lay deep in the Grand Line, a secret place of mystery and danger, where the waves themselves seemed to whisper secrets. It was from this rugged, unyielding land that she hailed, her spirit as wild and untamed as the sea itself. [Name] had grown up amid tales of legendary pirates, dreaming of adventure and the world beyond her island home.

Her chance came when she encountered the crew of the Pirate King, Gol D. Roger, two years before his death. A young girl with a heart full of dreams, she sought apprenticeship under Roger, determined to carve out her own adventure on the high seas.

It was on this fateful ship that she met Shanks and Buggy, two young apprentices with their own ambitions and quirks. Shanks, with his easygoing nature and infectious laughter, welcomed her with open arms, immediately adopting her as a sister. He loved teasing her, finding endless amusement in her reactions. His playful banter and protective nature made her feel at home amidst the chaos of pirate life.

Buggy, on the other hand, was an enigma. His sharp wit and penchant for theatrics often set him apart, but [Name] saw through his bravado. She refused to accept his asshole antics, calling him out whenever he crossed the line. This unexpected defiance intrigued Buggy, and he found himself drawn to her unyielding spirit. Around [Name], Buggy could drop his guard and be his true self, forging a bond that neither of them had anticipated.

Together, the three of them formed an unbreakable trio, their adventures on the high seas becoming the stuff of legends.

Their first memorable adventure together occurred on a mysterious island known for its treacherous terrain and hidden treasures. The island's dense jungle and labyrinthine caves promised both danger and reward, and the trio eagerly set out to explore.

Shanks led the way, his laughter echoing through the trees as he cracked jokes and teased [Name] about her cautious nature. Buggy, ever the showman, swung his cutlass dramatically at the overgrown foliage, declaring himself the greatest explorer in the world. [Name], with a mix of exasperation and fondness, kept them both in line, her keen senses alert for any signs of trouble.

Deep within the jungle, they stumbled upon a hidden waterfall, its sparkling waters cascading into a crystal-clear pool. It was a moment of serene beauty amidst the wildness, and they took a break to enjoy the sight. Shanks, ever the prankster, splashed water at Buggy, sparking a playful water fight that left them all laughing and soaked.

As the sun set, they discovered a hidden cave behind the waterfall, filled with ancient carvings and glittering gems. It was a treasure trove that spoke of forgotten civilizations and long-lost tales. Together, they marveled at their find, carving their names in full to cement their bond in the ancient stone.

Another memorable escapade saw them caught in a fierce storm at sea. The small ship was tossed about like a toy, the crew struggling to keep it afloat. Amidst the chaos, [Name] worked alongside Shanks and Buggy, grabbing the wheel and keeping them on a straight path.

Shanks, always the optimist, kept spirits high with his infectious laughter, even as the waves crashed over the deck. Buggy, despite his usual theatrics, showed a steely determination, his quick thinking helping to navigate the treacherous waters. [Name], with her calm and steady presence, kept them focused, her knowledge of the sea guiding their efforts.

As the storm finally subsided, the crew emerged battered but triumphant. The three of them stood together at the bow, watching the dawn break over the horizon, their friendship forged in the crucible of the storm.

In a bustling market town, their bond was tested in more lighthearted ways. Shanks, ever the mischief-maker, convinced [Name] to join him in a prank on Buggy. They switched Buggy's beloved tricorn hat with a flamboyant, feathered monstrosity, waiting eagerly for his reaction.

When Buggy discovered the switch, his indignant squawks of outrage drew a crowd, but his eyes held a glint of amusement. [Name] and Shanks couldn't contain their laughter, and soon enough, Buggy joined in, the trio's laughter echoing through the market.

Their antics didn't go unnoticed, and they found themselves fleeing from an irate vendor whose prized cabbages had become collateral damage in their escapade. Dodging through the narrow streets, they finally collapsed in a hidden alley, breathless and laughing, their youth more prominent than ever.

Through all their adventures, [Name] found a family in Shanks and Buggy. They were her brothers, her companions, her partners in mischief and bravery. Together, they navigated the tumultuous seas of the Grand Line, their friendship an anchor in the ever-changing tides of their journey.

[A broken vow and families destroyed]

Gold Roger was not just a captain; he was a mentor, a father figure, and a source of unending support for [Name]. From the moment she joined the crew, he took her under his wing, recognizing a spark of potential within her. Despite the rough exterior of the pirate life, Roger's kindness and wisdom shone through in his treatment of [Name]. He spoiled her with treasures and stories, but more importantly, he taught her the values of hard work and compassion.

Under his guidance, [Name] learned the intricacies of navigation, the art of swordsmanship, and the importance of leading with both strength and kindness. Roger's philosophy was simple: a true captain is not just a leader but a protector and a beacon of hope for their crew. He made sure [Name] understood this, pushing her to be the best version of herself.

During one of their many celebrations on board, [Name] found herself sitting beside Roger, her heart full of gratitude and admiration for the man who had become her surrogate father. Shanks and Buggy, as usual, were in the midst of a heated but playful argument, this time about which pole was colder. Their bickering filled the air with laughter, and Roger joined in, his deep chuckles resonating like thunder.

"[Name]," Roger called her softly, his eyes twinkling with a mixture of amusement and curiosity, "what do you want more than anything?"

[Name] hesitated for a moment before leaning in to whisper her deepest desire into his ear. Roger nodded thoughtfully, a knowing smile spreading across his face. Without another word, he slipped away from the festivities, motioning for her to follow.

He led her through the ship and down to the docks where they boarded a smaller vessel. Their destination was a nearby island, a place known to only a few. As they approached, [Name]'s heart pounded with anticipation. They were greeted warmly by Portgas D. Rouge, who welcomed them into her home with open arms.

Rouge's eyes sparkled with joy as she showed [Name] her pregnant belly, the rounded form a symbol of new life and hope. [Name]'s eyes widened with excitement, and she couldn't help but ask, "When will the baby be born? Will they join the crew?"

Roger and Rouge laughed softly, sharing a look of mutual understanding. "Fate might have other plans for this little one," Rouge said gently.

Roger coughed softly, excusing himself to get some water, leaving [Name] alone with Rouge. "Would you like to feel the baby?" Rouge asked, her voice warm and inviting.

[Name] nodded eagerly. With Rouge's guidance, she placed her hands on the swollen belly, feeling the subtle movements within. It was a moment of pure wonder, and when Rouge urged her to listen with her ear, [Name] pressed her head gently against the belly, hearing the faint, rhythmic heartbeat of the unborn child.

When Roger returned, he smiled at the sight before him. "If you want a family," he said, his voice filled with sincerity, "then you have one with us, no matter where your journey takes you."

They embraced, a moment of shared warmth and connection that [Name] would treasure forever. As they pulled away, the distant calls of Shanks and Buggy echoed through the night, searching for their missing friend.

"I should go," [Name] said reluctantly, feeling the pull of her crewmates. "But I promise, I'll always take care of the baby."

Roger and Rouge nodded, their eyes filled with pride and affection as [Name] left to rejoin her brothers in adventure. The promise she made that night would stay with her always, a silent vow to protect and cherish the family she had found on the high seas.

[The day the music died.]

The day of Gol D. Roger's execution dawned bleak and somber. A thick crowd gathered, murmuring and jostling, as the Pirate King was led to the scaffold. Shanks and Buggy stood shoulder to shoulder, their eyes red with unshed tears. [Name] was close by, her hands trembling at her sides as she watched the man who had been a father to her take his final steps.

As the executioner’s blade fell, the reality crashed down on them. Shanks and Buggy were openly weeping, their sobs mingling with the shocked gasps and murmurs of the crowd. [Name], unable to contain her grief, placed her hands over her mouth to stifle a scream that threatened to shatter her very soul.

Her muffled cries continued until Buggy, his own face a mask of pain, wrapped his arms around her. Shanks, trying to stay strong, reached out to steady them both as they all sank to their knees, overcome by loss.

In the chaos that followed Roger's last words and the ensuing scramble for his treasure, [Name] felt a fierce resolve build within her. Pushing herself to her feet, she made her way towards the Marines, her eyes burning with determination.

She pushed her way through the crowd and stood at the executioners block, eyes unforgiving and enflammed.

"We want his body," she demanded, her voice cracking but strong. "We deserve to bury him properly!"

The Marines, caught off guard by her boldness, tried to push her away. "Move along," one of them barked. "Or you'll be arrested for obstructing justice."

Buggy, still reeling from grief, stepped forward, fists clenched and ready to fight. But before he could act, Shanks intervened, raising a hand to calm his friend. "Wait," Shanks said, his tone steady and conciliatory. "Let's talk about this."

As the tension mounted, [Name] caught the eye of Vice Admiral Garp, who was watching the scene unfold with a stoic expression. For a moment, his gaze softened, acknowledging her pain and determination.

"Let them go," Garp finally said, his voice carrying authority. "This isn't the time or place."

Reluctantly, the Marines stepped back, allowing the trio to retreat. They made their way to a secluded alleyway, away from the prying eyes and the frenzy of treasure seekers. [Name]'s mind raced, filled with images of Portgas D. Rouge and the unborn baby. She knew she had to leave, to be with them before the baby’s arrival, but the thought of abandoning Shanks and Buggy tore at her heart.

In the quiet of the alley, the argument that had been simmering between Shanks and Buggy boiled over. "We need to form our own crew," Buggy insisted, his voice desperate and angry. "Shanks, you should lead us."

Shanks shook his head, his expression resolute. "That's not what my destiny is. We need to find our own paths."

Their words became heated, their grief and confusion fueling the fire. Buggy turned to [Name], his eyes pleading and furious. "Who are you going with, [Name]? Me or Shanks?"

She looked between them, her heart breaking. She knew they needed to stay together, that their bond was stronger than this moment of despair. But she also knew where she was needed most.

"I'm going home," she said softly, tears streaming down her face. "I can't tell you. But this isn't goodbye. I'll see you both later."

Buggy's face twisted in anger and hurt. "Betrayal!" he spat. "Just like that, you're leaving us?"

Shanks, though pained, gave her a nod of understanding. "You do what you need to do, [Name]. You always have a place with me."

With a final, anguished look at her two brothers, [Name] turned and walked away. Her heart ached, but she knew her path was clear. She needed to find a boat and reach Rouge before the baby's birth.

As you left the alleyway, the sounds of Shanks and Buggy's argument faded, replaced by the relentless roar of the sea and the promise of a new life waiting just beyond the horizon.

Time skip.....

Later that day, [Name] found Portgas D. Rouge by the shore of Baterilla, her eyes fixed on the distant horizon. Upon seeing each other, the weight of their shared grief became too much to bear. Tears streamed down their faces as [Name] collapsed into Rouge's arms. They held each other tightly, sobbing together as [Name] tried to convey the harrowing events of the day.

"Everything will be okay," Rouge whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. "But we must go into hiding now. We can't let anyone know about the baby. The Marines will kill us if they find out."

In a daring act, [Name] stole Roger's body from the Marines that night, earning herself a high bounty.

From that moment on, [Name] dedicated herself to protecting Rouge. For the next two years, she became Rouge's personal guard, helping her evade the ever-watchful eyes of the Marines. They lived a life of constant vigilance, moving from place to place, hiding Rouge's pregnancy from the world.

As the months passed, the strain on Rouge became more evident. The pain grew, and it became harder for her to conceal her condition.

One evening, as they sat together in a small, dimly lit room, [Name] gently encouraged Rouge to leave with her to the secret island in the Grand Line where she had been born. "No one will find us there," she promised. "We can be safe, and you can have the baby in peace."

Rouge nodded, her eyes filled with determination. She had held her pregnancy for twenty months through sheer willpower, deceiving the world about Ace's connection to Gol D. Roger. The strain was immense, but she endured it for the sake of her child.

When the time finally came, [Name] was by Rouge's side, holding her hand as she gave birth. Rouge named the child "Gol D. Ace," cradling him in her arms with a smile of pure love and exhaustion. But the effort of holding Ace for so long took its toll, and Rouge's strength began to wane.

As Rouge's life ebbed away, [Name] placed the baby in a handmade cradle and called for the midwives. She rushed to get them, her heart pounding with fear and hope. When she returned, she found Vice-Admiral Garp standing by Rouge's side, his expression soft with sorrow.

"Take care of him," Rouge whispered to Garp, her voice barely audible.

"Please, take care of Ace."

Garp nodded solemnly, holding Rouge's hand in her final moments. Despite being Roger's enemy, he respected Rouge's sacrifice and love for her child. He agreed to take care of Ace without reporting his bloodline to the Marines.

Before [Name] could react, Garp took the baby and left quickly. She returned to find Rouge lifeless, her final wish fulfilled. The midwives tried to console [Name], but she broke away from them, screaming that the child had been stolen. She crumbled to the ground, her heart shattered by the loss of both Roger and Rouge, and now Ace.

With fierce determination, [Name] vowed to find Ace and fulfill her promise to Rouge.

She helped prepare Rouge's body for burial, ensuring she would rest beside Gol D. Roger. Then, she buried them together on her secret island, where they could finally be at peace.

Standing by their graves, [Name] made a solemn promise. "I will find Ace and raise him to be a good person. I will bring Buggy and Shanks together again. Thank you for your kindness. I promise, I will make my dream come true in this lifetime."

With that, she set sail, determined to find her own crew and reunite with Ace. The journey ahead was uncertain, but her resolve was unwavering. She would honor the memory of Gol D. Roger and Portgas D. Rouge by protecting their legacy and fulfilling her own destiny.

The years that follow----

After stealing the Pirate King’s body, your fame skyrocketed throughout the known world. The tale of your daring heist spread like wildfire, making you a target for both the Marines and rival pirates. Despite the constant danger, your village agreed to keep your secret as long as you didn't return with any outsiders. Before you left, they gifted you the machetes your mother had left for you in her will, weapons of exquisite craftsmanship that held both sentimental and practical value.

���Take these,” the village elder said, placing the sheathed machetes in your hands. “Your mother wanted you to have them. We will look after your house and keep your secret. Stay safe.”

Bidding them goodbye, you embarked on your journey, the weight of loneliness pressing down on you during that first year. Constantly on the run, you evaded capture while feeling the sting of isolation. News of Shanks growing into a respected captain and a good man reached your ears, filling you with a bittersweet pride. Conversely, stories of Buggy’s descent into villainy and the destruction he wrought on towns left you disheartened.

In response to Buggy’s actions, you visited the towns he had ravaged, bringing aid and comfort to the villagers. Each act of kindness strengthened your resolve to reunite Shanks and Buggy, hoping to mend their fractured bond.

After months of planning, you managed to pull some strings, orchestrating a meeting on a remote island under the guise of a peaceful conversation. As they arrived, it didn’t take long for Shanks and Buggy to realize they had been tricked.

“Why did you call us here?” Buggy snapped, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

Before you could answer, Buggy turned to leave. Quickly, you transformed your demeanor into that of a fearsome monster, roaring and charging at them. Shanks and Buggy, caught off guard, had no choice but to work together to fend you off and make it to the shore. Ben Beckmann and Alvida kept their ships anchored far enough away to prevent any escape.

Panting and out of breath, Shanks and Buggy finally cornered you on the beach. You dropped the act, revealing your calm demeanor with a mischievous grin.

“So you two get along unless you think I’m going to kill you?” you asked, crossing your arms.

Shanks chuckled, wiping sweat from his brow. “You always had a knack for theatrics, [Name].”

Buggy, still fuming, scowled but didn’t argue. “This better be good,” he muttered.

Taking a deep breath, you stepped forward, your tone softening. “I didn’t bring you here to trick you. I did it because we need to talk. We were a family once, and I refuse to believe that’s gone forever. Shanks, you’ve become a great captain. Buggy, you have your own path, but we need to find common ground.”

The tension hung heavy in the air as you watched Shanks and Buggy stand facing each other, the years of unresolved conflict weighing on their shoulders. Shanks, always the more easygoing of the two, took a step forward, his expression softening.

"Buggy," he began, his voice steady, "we've been through a lot together. We've laughed, fought, and survived things most people can't even imagine. But we need to settle this. We were friends, and I refuse to let that go."

Buggy's facade cracked, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I wanted to be a great pirate captain," he admitted, his voice trembling. "I wanted to be someone like Roger, but I didn't have what you have, Shanks. The charisma, the strength… I just don't have it."

Shanks shook his head, placing a hand on Buggy's shoulder. "Buggy, that's one of the reasons I couldn’t become the new Pirate King either. We each have our strengths and weaknesses. But that doesn't mean you can't be a great captain in your own right. We just have different paths."

The sincerity in Shanks' words seemed to reach Buggy, who took a shaky breath before nodding. "I’m sorry, Shanks. And I’m sorry to you too, [Name]. I was so angry after Roger’s execution. I felt betrayed and lost. But I did look for you after the Marines placed that bounty on your head for stealing Roger’s body."

Shanks nodded in agreement. "We both did. We never stopped searching for you."

Your heart swelled at their words, and you took a step closer to them. "It means a lot to hear that. But I can’t tell you where Roger's body is. It’s a secret I have to keep. But I do need your help, and I need you to swear loyalty to me."

Buggy and Shanks exchanged a glance before turning back to you. "It never stopped," Buggy said earnestly.

Shanks smiled, placing a hand over his heart. "We swear, no tricks. Whatever you need, we’re with you."

You took a deep breath and began recounting the events that had unfolded since your split from them. You told them about finding Rouge, helping her through her pregnancy, and the pain and fear that had shadowed those years. You described the agony of losing the baby and Rouge, and the determination that kept you going.

Shanks and Buggy listened intently, their expressions growing somber with each word. When you finished, they both stepped forward, embracing you tightly.

"We'll find the child," Shanks promised, his voice full of conviction. "We'll make sure Roger's legacy lives on."

Buggy nodded, his usual bravado replaced with genuine resolve. "And we'll do it together, like the old days."

A grin tugged at Shanks’ lips as he glanced at Buggy. "Hey, maybe you’ll even get a chance to show off your ‘great captain’ skills, Buggy. Who knows? You might even impress me."

Buggy rolled his eyes, but there was a hint of a smile on his lips. "Don’t push your luck, Shanks."

The tension eased as Shanks and Buggy stood side by side, their shared history and newfound understanding rekindling the bond that had once seemed irreparably broken.

"Thank you," you said, voice thick with emotion. "Thank you for staying with me."

Shanks grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Of course, [Name]. We’re in this together. And who knows, maybe we’ll find more than just Roger’s legacy out there."

Buggy raised an eyebrow, a rare, genuine smile creeping onto his face. "What are you implying, Shanks?"

"Oh, nothing," Shanks said, chuckling. "Just that there are many adventures ahead, and some of them might be more… personal than others."

Buggy's cheeks reddened slightly, but he didn't retort, a silent understanding passing between the two of them. You smiled at their interaction, sensing that the future held more than just the quest for Roger's child. There were new dynamics, deeper connections, and perhaps even love, waiting to unfold.

For now, though, there were immediate plans to be made and old promises to keep.

"Alright," you said, standing tall. "We need to prepare. Buggy, Shanks, let's gather our resources, plan our next move, and get ready to set sail. We have a lot of ground to cover and a lot of people to find."

Shanks nodded, his playful demeanor giving way to seriousness. "We’ll follow your lead, [Name]. Just say the word."

Buggy agreed, a rare moment of sincerity in his eyes. "Whatever it takes, we’ll do it. For Roger, for Rouge, and for the future."

"And for you."

With that, the three of you set off, determined and united. The journey ahead was uncertain, but with Shanks and Buggy by your side, you felt ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead. Together, you would honor Roger's memory and protect the legacy he had left behind.

It was agreed that, to maintain a low profile, Shanks and Buggy would feign animosity in public, while you remained on the move, constantly gathering intel from the Marines and searching for the individual who had taken baby Ace away.

You hit a dead end for a while, until a certain young man with golden eyes flew into your life.

______________________________________________________________

That was part 1 of the lore and the second will be posted later today.

CHapter 6

Chapter 7

Make sure you check out the a03 account by the same name. Everything I have posted here is there in chronological order. I also have a few Buggy the Clown x Reader's posted in the masterlist! Give it a read if you please!

Be sure to check out my other works and leave likes and comments, they really help. Drop a follow as well if you please. Don’t be shy to leave me a little reblog if you want.

I promise I bite~

Seen you soon my loves!!~ <<33

[abbythewritor]

Winter is Coming. Chapter One.

Description: Y/N Targaryen, the last true daughter of House Targaryen, bears the weight of her lineage on her broad shoulders. Young, fiercely determined, and often underestimated for her plus-size figure, she is forced into an unyielding marriage alliance with one of the most dangerous men across the seas: Crocodile, the ruthless warlord and cunning leader of Baroque Works. Torn from Westeros and thrust into the unpredictable waters of the Grand Line, Y/N must navigate the treacherous alliances, schemes, and monstrous forces that haunt her every step. As Crocodile’s bride, her life becomes a game of survival—earning his respect while enduring his cold indifference and manipulative tendencies. However, the fire in her blood will not be dimmed. With whispers of ancient dragons and visions of the Iron Throne calling her home, Y/N begins to embrace her Targaryen birthright, proving that dragons do not cower—they conquer.As war brews across the seas and in Westeros alike, Y/N’s journey will test her body, spirit, and mind. With Crocodile as both her captor and potential ally, she will rise through betrayal, blood, and fire to claim her destiny. Winter is coming, but fire and blood will follow.

Warnings: Explicit content, blood, Violence, Sexual content, you know Game of Thrones stuff.

Just to be clear: I do not own Game of Thrones or One Piece, they belong to the creators. I wrote this story on Chat GTP as to help with story structure and Spelling. Y/n in this story is overweight and plus size, as I rarely see Y/n's that are bigger in fanfiction at all, so I'd thought it will be different. THIS STORY IS NOT FOR CHILDREN!!! As like Game of Thrones, it will have a lot of explicit, and graphic scenes!! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!!!!!!!!

Anyways, enjoy the first chapter!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sound of cannon fire echoed faintly in the distance as the Marine base buzzed with its usual, chaotic rhythm. Shouts rang from the training grounds below, cadets barking orders to one another, boots slamming against the dirt, and the metallic clang of swords meeting in sparring duels carried on the sea breeze.

Within the tall white walls of the Marine headquarters, the air was less vibrant, heavy with the hum of bureaucracy and the quiet scrawling of pens on parchment. A world apart from the cries of training soldiers and roaring ships outside, Vice Admiral Garp sat slouched in his chair, boots propped lazily atop his broad wooden desk.

“Strength, honesty, and intelligence,” Garp said aloud, the words rumbling like stones in his chest. “Three simple things. Yet, why is it that so many men have two, but not the third?”

Across from him, Koby sat rigid in his chair. He looked as though his spine were cast in iron, hands folded neatly on his knees, his bright eyes fixed on Garp with a mixture of reverence and focus. He had already memorized every word the Vice Admiral said as if each syllable might carry him closer to greatness.

“Sir?” Koby said carefully.

Garp tilted his head back, staring at the high ceiling of his office. Sunlight streamed through the tall windows, casting pale golden light on the room—an airy, almost peaceful space littered with old maps, rolled scrolls, and piles of half-organized documents.

“Strength makes you unstoppable,” Garp began, eyes narrowing as though seeing something far away. “A man with strength can plow through armies, lead men, conquer the seas. But strength without honesty?” He barked out a laugh, short and sharp. “That kind of man has a sword in his hand but no compass. A damn dangerous thing.”

Koby nodded, lips pressed together, clearly absorbing the lesson.

“And intelligence?” Garp waved a hand absently. “That’s the hardest to come by. Strength you can build, and honesty is a choice. But intelligence? You either have it, or you don’t. And without it…” He leaned forward, boots thudding to the floor, and jabbed a finger at Koby. “You’ll end up following someone who has all three—and trust me, that someone won’t be you.”

“Yes, sir!” Koby responded, his voice brimming with determination.

Garp leaned back with a satisfied grunt, pulling a bag of rice crackers from his drawer. “Good lad. I’ll knock it into you eventually. You’ve got the honesty down. Now you just need to toughen up and—”

A sharp knock at the door interrupted him.

Garp frowned mid-chew, crumbs scattering over the papers on his desk. He hadn’t been expecting anyone. “What is it?”

The door opened just enough for a young Marine to step inside, his hat too large for his head, face flushed as though he’d sprinted up three flights of stairs. “Vice Admiral Garp, sir,” the Marine said, panting. “There’s—there’s someone here to see you. An… unexpected visitor.”

Garp cocked an eyebrow, one cracker halfway to his mouth. “Unexpected? Who the hell is it?”

The Marine gulped, his Adam’s apple bobbing nervously. “He didn’t give his name, sir. But… you might want to see for yourself.”

Garp exchanged a glance with Koby, who looked equally confused.

“Well?” Garp barked, rising to his full, imposing height. “Send him in!”

The Marine hesitated for a moment, then nodded and hurried back through the door. The silence that followed was thick, pressing down on the room like a weighted blanket. Garp straightened his coat, his eyes narrowing toward the entrance. He’d faced pirates, kings, and beasts who could tear apart mountains—there weren’t many who could unsettle him.

But when the door swung open, Garp’s brow furrowed deeply. He wasn’t unsettled, but he was surprised.

The man who stepped into his office was unlike anyone Garp had seen in years.

He wore no shining Marine coat, no grand cape or feathers, nor the garish clothes pirates often paraded in. His clothes were dark, the thick fur-lined cloak hanging heavy over his shoulders as though made for colder lands. Beneath it, a dark leather tunic clung to his broad frame, plain yet well-made, speaking of functionality rather than wealth. The longsword on his hip was the first thing Garp noticed—an ancient blade with a wolf’s head hilt, its steel shimmering faintly, as though it drank the sunlight.

But it was the man’s eyes that held him—the eyes of a fighter who had seen too much for his years. They were dark, brooding, and seemed to carry the weight of winter itself.

“Who the hell are you?” Garp said, his tone direct but not unkind.

The man took another step forward, his boots heavy against the polished wooden floor. He stood tall, his posture as unyielding as the blade at his side. When he spoke, his voice was low and steady, edged with a Northern accent that sounded foreign against the warm Alabastan air.

“My name is Jon Snow,” the man said simply, though his presence was anything but. “I’ve come a long way to speak with you.”

Garp crossed his arms, his grin replaced by something more serious as he studied the man before him. “Jon Snow, huh? Never heard of you. You’re not a pirate, that’s clear enough. A mercenary?”

Jon’s gaze didn’t waver. “No mercenary. I am a swordsman, Vice Admiral.”

“A swordsman?” Koby blurted out before shrinking under Garp’s sharp glance.

Jon turned his head slightly toward the young recruit, his expression softening. “Aye. One who’s learned to fight in a land where battles are won with steel and honor, not words.”

Something in the way Jon spoke made the room feel colder, the mention of his homeland painting stark images of snow-covered mountains and shadowed castles. Garp’s instincts told him this was no ordinary man.

“And what does a swordsman from far-off lands want with me?” Garp asked, sitting back down and gesturing loosely at the chair across from him. “I don’t have all day, Snow.”

Jon did not sit. He placed a hand lightly on the hilt of his sword, not as a threat but as if it were an extension of himself. “I’ve heard tales of this world—of men who claim the seas as their own, of treasures that could change kingdoms, and of pirates who bring war to lands untouched by their chaos. I’ve seen enough of war to know this: it never stops. If the seas rise, the waves will reach the Seven Nations.”

Garp frowned. “And you think I care about kingdoms I’ve never heard of?”

Jon’s jaw tightened. “No. But you care about justice.”

Garp stared at him for a long moment, the silence between them like a drawn bowstring. Finally, Garp sighed and rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

“You’re not here for justice, Snow,” Garp said, his tone softer now. “You’re here because you see the storm coming. And you want to be ready for it.”

Jon’s gaze met his, unflinching. “A storm unlike any this world has seen.”

Koby swallowed audibly, his fingers twisting nervously in his lap. The tension in the room was palpable, thick enough to choke on.

Garp let out a deep chuckle, though there was no humor in it. “A man of steel, honesty, and intelligence. You’re rare, Snow. But tell me this: what do you plan to do when this storm hits?”

Jon’s hand tightened around the hilt of his sword. “The same thing I’ve always done, Vice Admiral.” His voice was calm, but there was steel in it. “I’ll fight.”

For the first time in years, Garp felt something stir—an old fire in his chest, long buried beneath decades of war and duty. He leaned forward, a grin curling his lips once more.

“Well then, Jon Snow,” Garp said. “Let’s see if you’re as good as you claim.”

...........................................

Northern Alabasta.

The third day.

Time: Midday.

The northern Alabastan sun hung low in the sky, casting deep golden hues across the desert sands and turning the sandstone house into a jewel of pale gold and red. The vast estate was carved into the base of a rocky hill, its edges smooth and elegant, a fortress of luxury in a sea of desolation. The air was heavy with the heat of the day, though it carried a chill that whispered of dusk.

Y/N stood at the top of the stone staircase leading down to the courtyard, her eyes fixed on the horizon. She could see the dust rising far in the distance, growing closer with every second, signaling the arrival of her would-be husband. Behind her, the house’s sprawling walls loomed, their stark grandeur casting long shadows across the courtyard.

She wasn’t alone. Her cruel brother, resplendent in his finest silks and golden jewelry, stood beside her, his expression fixed into a cold, unreadable mask. He always dressed as though he were already king of something, though his kingdom amounted to little more than ruthlessness and ambition. Flanking him was the host of the house, a round-bellied nobleman with graying hair and rings stacked on every pudgy finger. He fidgeted nervously, dabbing at his sweat-slick forehead with a fine kerchief.

“Do not embarrass me,” her brother muttered, his voice low enough for only Y/N to hear.

The words were familiar, repeated to her like a mantra since childhood, yet they still cut deep, sinking into her ribs like hooks. Y/N said nothing in response. She had learned long ago that silence gave him less satisfaction.

The nobleman cleared his throat awkwardly, his gaze darting between the two siblings before returning to the approaching column of riders. The thunder of hooves grew louder now, shaking the earth beneath them as the dust cloud parted to reveal the figures at its center.

Crocodile had arrived.

He led the column of riders, seated atop a massive black horse that snorted and stamped with a power befitting its master. Crocodile’s presence was unmistakable, even at a distance. His broad shoulders were wrapped in a heavy coat that billowed slightly with the wind, the collar high and regal against his sharp jawline. A thick scar curled across his face, cruel and jagged, and in his gloved hand, the ever-present golden hook gleamed like a predator’s claw.

Behind him, an army of guards in dark desert armor rode in formation, their swords sheathed but ready, their eyes sharp beneath their veils. They moved as one—silent, disciplined, and dangerous, their presence turning the courtyard into something small and insignificant.

Crocodile brought his horse to a stop just short of the sandstone steps, the beast beneath him pawing at the ground impatiently. His single visible eye—cold and calculating—swept across the courtyard as though dissecting everything it touched. He did not dismount.

The host of the house descended a few steps, his arms spreading wide as he greeted Crocodile with loud, theatrical enthusiasm. “Ah! My lord, Crocodile!” he boomed, his voice slipping into a rich Middle English cadence. “Welcome to our humble home, mighty Warlord of the Sea!”

Crocodile didn’t respond, his brow twitching in mild irritation as the nobleman prattled on. The man’s words were a torrent of foreign sounds, ornate and archaic, flowing over Crocodile like water off rock. He caught some words—“welcome,” “home,” “lord”—but the rest of the nobleman’s theatrical greeting was lost on him. Crocodile’s eye narrowed.

What nonsense.

Behind him, his guards shifted in their saddles, their silence broken only by the occasional snort or stomp of a restless horse. Crocodile let the man talk, his face a mask of stoic disinterest, but as the nobleman gestured eagerly up the stairs, Crocodile’s attention shifted.

He glanced past the host of the house and saw her.

Y/N stood at the last step of the stone staircase, framed by the shadows of the house. Her form was heavy and solid, her presence undeniable even as her head dipped slightly to avoid his gaze. The crimson fabric of her gown spilled around her like blood, its golden embroidery catching the sunlight as though it were on fire. She was no waif, no porcelain doll sculpted for royal palaces—there was weight to her, warmth to her, something that felt strangely real against the opulent surroundings.

Crocodile’s gaze lingered for a moment longer than intended, his eye narrowing slightly as though assessing her—measuring her. A flicker of something sharp and amused ghosted across his lips.

And then, to her surprise, he smirked.

It was not a kind expression. It was a predator’s smile, sharp and confident, like a man who already knew the outcome of whatever game he had entered. It was fleeting, gone in an instant, but Y/N saw it. She felt it.

Before she could make sense of it, Crocodile turned his horse sharply. The beast reared slightly before pivoting toward the gates, hooves kicking up sand and dust as it moved.

The nobleman’s voice faltered as Crocodile’s back turned to him. “M-My lord?”

Crocodile said nothing. He spurred his horse forward, the column of guards falling into perfect formation behind him as they swept back toward the desert horizon. The thunder of their departure left a ringing silence in its wake.

Y/N remained at the last step, her expression unreadable as her brother’s face darkened with anger.

“What is the meaning of this?” her brother growled, whirling on the host of the house as though he were a hound about to tear out the man’s throat. “Why did he leave?”

The nobleman sputtered, his hands raising defensively as he stumbled over his words. “M-My lord, I do not know! I welcomed him warmly—I—I followed proper form, and yet—”

“Proper form?” her brother hissed, his voice dangerously low. “He doesn’t understand your prattling. He isn’t one of us, you fool.”

The nobleman’s face paled, sweat beading at his temples. “But… but I thought he—”

“I don’t care what you thought,” her brother snapped. His eyes flickered briefly toward Y/N, narrowing before turning away again. “This failure is your doing.”

The nobleman began to stammer something in reply, but Y/N tuned him out, her gaze drifting back to where Crocodile and his army had disappeared beyond the horizon.

Her brother’s anger, the nobleman’s groveling—none of it mattered. What mattered was that momentary look Crocodile had given her. That smirk. That calculating gaze.

What had he seen?

And more importantly—why had he left?

The sun sank lower in the sky, deepening the shadows across the estate as the wind carried away the dust Crocodile’s army had left behind. Y/N remained still at the last step of the stairs, her thoughts racing.

This was not over.

Not by a long shot.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[your-neighbor-in-the-northblue]

Airplane ↠ Rodger x Reader

➼ Word Count » 0.8k ➼ Warnings » None ➼ Genre » Modern, Romance ➼ A/N » I know this timeline doesn't add up, just bear with me 💀

The Smiths blasted in your headphones as you shifted in the uncomfortable plastic chair in the airport lobby. You'd been invited to Sanji's wedding and were being flown out tonight to see him. You ran a hand through your hair out of stress and annoyance, not at Sanji, but at his "family" who had forced him into this arrangement. A frown etched itself on your face as you hoped Sanji was doing okay with all the changes suddenly being thrust into his life.

You kept telling yourself you'd be there with him in a couple of hours, but a "couple of hours" seemed to stretch longer in your head. Your leg bounced as you impatiently waited to be called. You wished they'd hurry up and board everyone already. Every second counted and you felt like you were wasting time just sitting there.

Sanji had texted you a few times to tell you about the sizeable family he was being married into, and from the way he described them, you found yourself nervous to meet the people who'd be attending the wedding with you. Every single one of them sounded awful in their own unique way.

"Give that back!" You heard a kid shout over your music as he sprinted past you. You were planning on just ignoring him but started paying more attention when you saw he was armed with a pocket knife.

"I just wanna look at it for a second!" A redheaded kid called back to him, fumbling to unfold the map he had supposedly stolen.

"It's not yours to look at!" The tiny clown started swinging the knife out at the other boy, as they ran around the lobby.

There was a group of men nearby who simply laughed at the situation in front of them. "Run Shanks! He's catching up!" One of them called out, seemingly unbothered by what was happening.

You felt your irritation grow the longer this went on. Maybe it was the length you had gone without sleep or the anticipation of attending a wedding with a bunch of abusers—either way, it didn't take long before you finally snapped at the group in question, "Hey! Pay attention to your kids!"

The group stopped laughing as they all averted their attention toward your clearly stressed and seething self. "Don't mind them!" One of them called out to you, "They've been stuck in a car together for hours, it's good for them to run around!"

If you weren't so exhausted, you might've accepted that answer from the handsome, raven-haired stranger, however, it was 4 in the morning and you couldn't be bothered with all this.

"I don't care, just control them! They're running all over the place! It's obnoxious." You shouted, before hastily shoving your headphones back in, hoping the music that blared from inside them would aid you in calming down after your initial outburst.

-X-X-X-

You were shamefully sat next to him. You felt so awkward. You had just yelled at him and now you were going to be sitting next to him for the next 12 hours of this dreaded flight.

"Hey," You started, unsure of if you should say anything or just sit there silently, "Sorry about my earlier uh—outburst."

The large man only chuckled before extending his hand out to you, "It was my fault, I'm Rodger."

You hesitantly reached out to grab his hand, shaking it you responded, "(Y/N)".

"So where are you headed?" He asked, his caramel eyes gazing at you almost adoringly. Oh, what were you saying? The man barely even knew you. You were sleep-deprived and delusional, the only way he saw you was as a stranger on the plane that maybe he'd bring up later in a bar years from now.

"Erm—A wedding?" You replied, almost unsure if you should be telling this man all your burdens.

"Oh ho! Lucky them!" He spoke excitedly, clapping loudly at the prospect.

"Yeah"

"I love weddings," He continued, "There's nothing better than watching two people you care for at their happiest."

You just nodded, it wouldn't do either of you any good if you told him that you actually weren't excited. However, he must've sensed something was off since he nudged your shoulder with his elbow and said, "Just stay optimistic, even if it's not something you're excited about."

'Optimism?' You thought. It certainly wouldn't solve Sanji's problems but if it meant he'd be given a little bit of support, then it was worth it to try. Maybe Rodger was right, what harm does a little optimism do? You smiled to yourself internally, you'd make the best out of this wedding, for Sanji's sake if nothing else.

You smiled over at him, "I'll sure try,"

"And hey," He said, handing you the napkin he'd just scrawled something on, "If you ever need someone to rant to, just call me." He winked before slumping forward and falling dead asleep in the middle of the conversation, leaving you alone with the crumpled napkin and a new mindset for the upcoming wedding.

[swampstew]

Hi there!

Can I please request a Gol D Roger NSFW 3.Subtle intimacy piece for your Captain event?

Hello :) Thank you for your request and your patience as I knock out these sexy little stories♥ You requested a spicy tale with the King of the Pirates and I give you [ Close ] while standing remarkably close to one another, the sender is unable to stop themselves from running their gaze across the receiver’s body, lingering for a moment on their lips, before returning to initiate prolonged, intense eye contact.

Oh Captain, My Captain Roger

Warnings: Spicy, heavy petting, AFAB reader getting her rocks off via penetration, size kink, belly bulge, and creampie. Teehee. Word count: 1.4K Minors Do Not Interact.

The party on the Oro Jackson had been going for hours and there was no end in sight. Drinks, food, and music flowed in abundance as the crew celebrated another win that day. The overflowing treasure chests spilled with gold coins, gold-plated dishware, jewels, and other riches from the sheer volume; and all that gold reflected the lights on deck making the atmosphere literally glow.

Crewmates hung off one another as they danced and sang along to the music, beer swishing over the edge of their mugs as they toasted repeatedly, drunkenly stumbling around the deck in sheer joy. Being a pirate was the best! Amidst the cheer and camaraderie, two members of the crew were keeping to themselves, not noticed by the others from their position on the deck.

Tucked away from the main deck, not quite hiding but also not in plain sight, you and Captain Roger were drinking and talking together in your own private bubble. The two of you had been growing closer over the last few months, these little talks becoming more personal, more vulnerable, and you were head over heels for your Captain. You needed him like fish need water to breathe. Down bad was an understatement.

You had climbed up a few stairs on the ramp to the foremast so you didn’t have to crane your neck so high to see and speak to the man. God knows you couldn’t handle being at eye level to his bare abs for so long and still keep up intelligent conversation.

Especially in such close proximity, you could feel the heat radiating from his body. The golden necklace across his pecs jingled as he laughed at your joke, his coat edges swayed, his hair and mustache slightly trembled until they all stood still when his laughter ceased.

Being so focused on his magnificent body, you hadn’t noticed that he’d been checking you out too. You finally caught him in the act as you peered up to find out why he stopped laughing. You watched as his eyes slowly travelled up your body, lingering in some choice areas before settling on your lips for a long, silent moment, until his dark pupils finally met yours.

One breath passed. Then two.

You felt his fingers graze your chin as a bold look came over his face. He dipped his head and pressed his lips to yours and you eagerly returned the affection. Roger smiled into the kiss and pushed his firm body into yours as his tongue snaked into your mouth. You placed your hands on his chest to steady yourself as you felt the tug of primal need bend you towards him against your own volition, not that you needed much convincing. All too willing to heed his lustful call.

The sudden outburst of laughter and cheer covered up the loud moan you let out as Roger pulled your hips to meet his, feeling his hardened cock behind his pants. With a devilish smile, he took your hand and kissed the back of it, before placing your palm over his erection.

Your breath hitched as his hand left yours, waiting for your response.

With a smile on your face you rubbed his member, earning a purr from the Captain as he leaned into your touch. He felt huge. His large hips hit against yours heavily as they bucked towards you, you almost lost your footing on the stairs.

Catching you, he leaned close to your ear and gruffly whispered, “Want to move this party to the bow?”

You squeaked out a yes. He whisked you away in a swirl of his coat, pressed against his chest as he carried you to the front of the ship, setting you on the wood railing above the forward facing canon.

“How far do you want this to go, Y/N?” he held your chin again, pupils blown with lust as he stared at you like he wanted to devour you. “I don’t want to make you—”

You cut him off with a desperate lunge at his face, latching your lips to his as you pressed your breasts into his chest. Roger hadn’t expected it and while he welcomed it, he still was startled by your sudden kiss that he hit his head on the wooden bowsprit that hung above the canon, gracefully held up by marble carved mermaids. His aching head suddenly cured by the plushness of your chest heating his up.

Roger spread your legs open and hitched up your dress, pulling you into his hips to ground himself into you. You let out a mewl at the feel of his large, rod of a cock rut into you hard enough to leave a bruise on your thighs. You head fell backwards and he took the opportunity to wrap his lips around the flesh of your neck and sucked sweetly on you.

“Mmm Captain,” you whimpered out as a particularly harsh rut nearly made you cream.

He let out a gentle laugh, “You never answered darlin’.”

“I need you inside me Captain.”

Even in the dim moonlight you could see his cheeks flushed darkly from your enthusiastic words. Shock swiped from his face, he gave you a confident grin and continued his assault on your skin down to your breasts. Suckling your tender flesh as he unbuckled his pants, letting them drop to the floor. His fingers hooked your underwear, teasingly pulling them off while his cock pressed against your core, pulling the fabric back to cover his cock with it as he pushed into your heat.

Either the fabric or his massive, engorged head stopped him from penetrating you and you weren’t sure which was the real culprit. A whine was ripped from your throat as he pulled back, taking your panties with him.

The next thing you felt was the silky feeling of his skin as his cock pressed against your core, demanding entrance. His size prevented him from sinking in – at first. He gently thrusted into you, slowly sliding himself in as your pussy stretched to fit around him. There was a burn to the stretch but you didn’t cry out in pain, you cried out in pleasure as he filled you up with swollen hardness.

Rocking into you and hitting all your sensitive spots, his tip bounced off your cervix, his balls followed up each thrust with a loud smack against your ass. The leftover length that couldn’t fit inside you was rapidly lubricated with your slick as he worked you up.

You fell backwards on your elbows as he fucked you, your breasts bounced freely with each hit of his hips against yours. His thumbs and fingertips dug into your flesh as he pounded into you, mesmerized by how much of you he could fit in his hands. The grin on his face never faltered as grinded into you, making electric sparks shoot through your veins as the heat in your lower belly grew. It peaked when you reached down to touch your clit and your hand ran down your own stomach, feeling the bulge from within move to the rhythm of his pace. With a choked scream, you clamped down on him when you came, making the Captain choke.

“Ff-fuck! Y’er so tight Y/N,” he managed to groan out, increasing his motions to bring himself over the edge.

Whimpering from the overstimulation once your orgasm faded, his cock bullied into your gummy walls seeking release. Roger’s hands grabbed your hips and jut his hips in you with long, precise strokes. Sweat rolled off his face to your chest as he came with low grunts escaping his trademark grin.

He slammed into you, spurting white all over your walls, flooding your cavern. The heat of his cum and his grinding against your cervix as he was spilling sent you into a second orgasm. Your cream mixed with his pleasure as your textured walls convulsed on his cock. A final, shrill whine left your mouth, swallowed by his lips as he kissed you through your orgasm.

Kissing you as his hands wandered down to your legs and to your feet. You felt him place something over your leg but his face blocked your view from seeing his actions. His tongue kept you in a daze as he pulled himself from your core and brought your legs together, sliding that same something over your over leg. It was your panties.

He slid them up until they sat snug around your hips. The fabric didn’t stand a chance against your mixed juices, immediately soaking through the material. With a blush, you crossed your thighs to try and stop the leaking flow. Roger winked as you and covered you with his coat, escorting you inside to put you to his bed.

[cookiepie111]

The cookout

A/N: let me know who else you think would go/be invited!

Usopp- was actually invited, his cousin is hosting the party

Sanji- Invited. Was hitting on a black girl and become a plus one. He brings so much he is invited to all different kinds of parties now!

Luffy- Not invited. Still showed up, tho?? He heard the music and smelled food from down the street and walked down. Ate so much food and took to go bag. The ladies cooking were very happy he ate so much "aww he's got a healthy appetite!" They stretch his cheeks. Later, playing video games with the kids doesn't hold back when playing against the kids 😭

Zoro- Not invited. Was with luffy was also went. He's currently enjoying himself somewhere in the garden drinking laughing it up with the other older men

Brook- Invited. One the old black grampa playing chess.

jinbe - Invited. Was invited by a friend, happy to see luffy there, isn't surprised he just showed.

Ace/sabo- Invited. They knew someone. Ace is however knocked out in a bed by the end with the other litter kids.

Yamato- Invited. He's so happy to be there. Bouncing off the walls. Enjoying food and playing games with everyone. everyone loves him

Roger- Invited. An old friend invited him. "Roger, is that you!?Hahaha! Looking like 1969! Get over here!" Who let granpa on the dance floor. The most free man there, bought alcohol along. Rayleigh is his plus one.

yasopp- Is actively avoiding the party. Not only avoiding child support but his 5 baby mamas are there, he can't have them know they're all dating him (they all know)

[yummymitzy]

It means everything to me.

Summary: The team decides to play a truth or dare game to end the night after one of Tony’s parties. Throughout the game, reader felt eyes on her, but she doesn’t know that they came from a certain redhead. Would something grow between them once the night falls?

Warnings: G!P Nat, SMUT, hair-pulling, back shots against door, spanking, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, Nat jus bein rough n jealous, 18+ MINORS DNI

WC: 3,154 

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Rogers!Reader

————♡————

Stark parties at the compound were so very often hosted, it could have been for any occasion. As long as Tony thought it was a good time to celebrate, he’d host a party for that night. Today just happened to be one of those nights.

You, your brother Steve, Bucky, and Wanda were sent out on a mission four days ago. You four came back to the compound and deemed the mission successful, which made Tony practically jump up and exclaim that he’d host a party for tonight for another mission gone well.

You were definitely a party person, the life of a party whether you were drunk or not. But goddamn? The last party the team hosted felt like yesterday to you, when it was actually last week, but that was still close enough right? 

As of right now, you were getting ready for his party, as you take a quick glance at your phone, it was 5:45 and the party was at six, so you definitely had enough time to be ready by then. You set down your phone as you went straight to your closet, your makeup already done.

After rummaging through your dresses, it took you a few minutes before you came across your dress of the night and put it on. It was a backless maroon dress with a slit that went dangerously high on your upper thigh, the back of the dress incredibly accentuated your ass to which you appreciated. 

Overall it was a great dress, who were you going to impress? You weren’t sure but you had an idea though. You strolled out of your closet and heard a knock echo through your bedroom, making you furrow your eyebrows in confusion. You still had way more time you wondered as you went to open the door.

There stood Bucky clad in a dark blue suit, hand still raised in the air as if he was going to open the door. Regaining his composure instantly, he drops the hand and leans against your doorway.

“You clean up nice, Buck. Didn’t think you still knew how to groom yourself with all that time you were up in the ice.” You tease lightly as you step back from your door and heading over to your vanity, putting in shiny gold earrings to complement the red.

“Hey… Don’t get used to it though.” He acts slightly hurt before switching to a joking manner. “But do hurry up, doll. At this point the party will be waiting up on you.” 

“I’m done, was just putting in earrings. Now cmon, I need a drink.” You slip on your red bottomed heels and brush past Bucky as you head down the corridor of the elevator, laughing slightly as he tries to catch up before the doors close.

As soon as the elevators open to where the party was being held, you went straight to the bar, in desperate need for a drink. Your eyes widen slightly before you smirk, realizing that Natasha had been put on bar duty.

Natasha was glammed up, hair curled down to her back, a long fitted emerald dress that showed off all her curves, it ran down to her knees and glimmered in the light. Her bright red lipstick complimenting it as she also has on some emerald earrings. 

You approach the bar, surprised Natasha hadn’t caught sight of you yet, until you stood right in front of her eyes, smirking. 

“Hey Nat, what got you doing bar duty tonight?” You lean against the bar counter, your arms crossed. The action making Natasha stare down at your breasts hungrily before she snaps her attention back onto you.

The thing was that you and Nat had this thing going on, where you’d both go back and forth with trying to flirt with each other. You never knew when exactly it started, Nat just started calling you pet names and being more touchy one day.  

But what she didn’t know was that the game got real on your side. You didn’t know what changed but you started becoming more flustered with her advances and even started blushing, something you never did. Until you realized, you liked her.

It had come a shock to you at first but as time passed, you came to terms with it and just played along with Natasha. It wasn’t like she liked you back, you doubt it, hell she might even be cuddling it up with Bruce.

“Fella did me wrong.”

“You got a real weird taste when it comes to your people Nat.” You laugh as you sat upon one of the many stools in front of the counter.

“It’s not all bad, and my taste in people are quite immaculate if you asked me, Y/n” She raised an eyebrow as she prepared your usual whiskey neat, before sliding it over to you as you laugh.

“Alright, alright, I’ll catch you later, Red” You stood up, your whiskey in hand as you go out to the couches and plopped yourself right next to Sam.

————♡————

You had completely lost track of what time it was, the party was long over and the after party had just started. 

You were sat in between Sam and Bucky with Tony on the far side of the couch. Across from you had been Bruce Natasha and Clint, while to the couch on the right of you was Wanda, Vision.   The couch left of you consisted of Tony, Thor, and Steve.

The team was so drunk they could barely uphold their conversations with one another. Thats how bad it was, and it was embarrassing that you were especially drunk too. 

Soon after, Tony stood up from his side of the couch and stepped forward while raising both of his arms. He proposed a game of truth or dare, refuse to do it, you take a shot. Your lips curled up into a smirk, you honestly couldn’t tell if you were too drunk or not but you did know that you wanted to play. 

After hearing the majority of the team agree, Tony had prepared a line of shots, just enough for the first few people before starting off the game. 

“Truth or dare, Capsicle.” Tony stared at Steve, a smug smirk planted on his face as he awaits Steves answer.

“Truth.”

“Is it true that Bucky was the cause of those “mosquito bites” when you came out to breakfast the other day?”

Bucky shifted in his seat at the mention of his name which made you shake in laughter as he playfully smacks your arm, catching the eye of Natasha.

“Yes.” Steve admitted, his face flushing a deep color of red as he leans back into the couch, before regaining his composure and picking his victim. “Wanda, Truth or dare?”

“Dare.” She raised an eyebrow as a slight smirk plays on her face.

“I dare you to give somebody in this room a lapdance. EXCEPT Vision.” Making Wanda widen her eyes slightly as she turns her head to look at Vision, to which he nods in confirmation, letting her know its alright. 

Wanda stands from her seat, slightly surveying the area before her eyes land on Sam, she approaches you with a torturously slow walk as she pretends to walk to Sam, before snapping her head to you and finding her place on your lap. 

Your eyes widen in shock as Tony tells Friday to dim the lights and play a song. You didn’t know what song it was, you were hyper focused with Wanda on your lap. You thought she was going to pick Sam, why you?

Across from you sat Natasha, you noticed she was fuming in her seat as she watched Wanda’s little show. Her knuckles turned white due to her deathly grip on the couch while a scowl was firmly planted on her face. If Natasha had been put into a cartoon, she would have definitely had smoke coming out of her ears.

Natasha was on her last straw when it came to the dance, all she wanted to do was stand up and rip Wanda off of you and take you for herself. As soon as she brushed away those thoughts, Wanda’s dance had already ended. But what she didn’t see was you sighing in relief after she retreated to her seat. 

————♡————

You and the team got a few more rounds in and this round ended up having Natasha as the victim.

“Truth or dare, Natasha.” Clint said as he bites his cheek to compose himself for her answer.

“Dare, arrowboy.” She smirks as she turns her whole body to face Clint as he begins cackling.

“Swap clothes with the person you find most attractive in this room.” He grins, visibly proud at his dare.

Natasha stands wondering her next move as she looks towards Wanda, her best friend. “Just go for it, whats the worst that could happen.” Wanda says in her head while she subtly nods her head towards you. 

Natasha thought it over once more before she strutted straight to you, her hips swaying as she walked, practically hypnotizing you. She held out a hand in your direction, her eyes meeting yours as they held an unspoken gentleness.

You took her hand as you lifted yourself up off the couch, you never realized how drunk you were until you were on your feet. You were slightly swaying as you tried to regain your balance, which was quick with the help of Natasha as she supported you with her other hand wrapped around your waist.

As you regained your balance, you noticed that you still were holding hands with her but you don’t find it in yourself to point it out. You move to take Natasha to another room nearby, her following behind you close by.

Once you both stumbled into an empty room, that was when you sobered up a little, but Natasha seemed drunker than ever.

“Are you sure you still want to do the dare? I could get Wanda to take you to your room.” You whisper, as you look up to meet Natashas gaze. 

You saw something change in Natasha’s eyes, from a drunken look to what you think is hunger?

The emotions that were brewing up within Natasha during the lapdance burst out of her as she shoved you against the door of the room, trapping your body between her and the door. 

“Nat!” You yelp, not expecting a reaction like this from Natasha.

“Ya know, I didn’t really like how Wanda was just grinding up on you..” She husks, her face inching towards yours as your gazes to each other never faltered. You can feel her hand hovering over your waist, soon stopping to rest there on the curve of your hips.

“But you wouldn’t really mind that would you, huh?” She smirked as she buried her head into your neck and kissing it slightly, leaving back bright red lipstick marks, she had also left some hickeys unbeknownst to you.

You sigh, leaning into her touch unknowingly and running your hands through her fiery hair before you pull her up gently and crash your lips onto hers.  

Natasha’s lips were as soft like they looked, you could have honestly gotten obsessed with them right then and there. You deepened the kiss as one of your hands slid down to her waist to pull her impossibly closer.

You were so focused on Natasha’s lips kissing you that you didn’t feel a hard bulge pressing up against your upper thigh. But soon enough was when Natasha started getting slightly desperate, subtly grinding against you as you felt the bulge become more insistent.

That was when you pulled away, slightly concerned. “Are you sure, Nat? You’re drunker than I am.” You ask, your eyes flickering between hers and her lips. 

“Yes baby, I’m sure. Plus I was at the bar handing out drinks, not downing shots with you and Wanda.” She whispered, her attitude rising with the added mention of Wanda. Her teeth grazing the skin of your neck as she nips at it before she pulls away entirely, making you whine.

“Awe detka, so desperate already? Did you get so desperate because of Wanda?” She snarled, as she flips you around by your hips, pushing your face into the door as she kept a deathly grip on you.

“Mphm! No, Nat. It’s all you.” Your voice is muffled against the door as she sternly keeps you pinned there. Your hands flat on the door to keep you stabilized as Natasha starts grinding her clothed bulge on you.

“Damn right it is.” She mumbled as she gave a harsh slap to your ass making you jolt forward into the door as you yelp. Before she continues grinding up on you.

Soon enough, Natasha reaches over to your front and over to your breasts as she gave them a quick squeeze before she trailed her hands to the straps of your dress. You peeled your hands away from the door to allow Natasha to practically rip the dress off of you.

The sight of you braless with a lacy red thong might as well make Natasha drool as her hands went straight to your ass, massaging the flesh and pulling a quiet whimper from you.

With quick efficiency, her dress was off in the blink of an eye, her boxers had an insanely large tent forming, to which you could already assume was by you. 

She takes off her boxers as quickly as her dress as she positions herself behind you on the door. Leaning down, her hands find themselves on your waist as her lips find the shell of your ear, her cock just centimeters away from your dripping heat as her breasts press against your back.

“I can tell you want this as much as I do, detka. You’re practically leaking onto the floor.” She husks into your ear, she doesn’t wait for an answer as she stands up straight and slams her cock into your wet cunt making you press your cheek against the door as you moan out. 

Natasha begins to pound herself into you, the sound of skin slapping, your moans, and Natasha’s grunts echo the quiet room as she ruts into your tight cunt.

“You’re so fucking tight, detka. Я не могу насытиться тобой. (I can’t get enough of you.)”She growls as she lifts her hand from your waist to pull at your hair, pulling you up to meet her front, her breasts brushing against your back once more as your back completely arches. 

The new position allowed Natasha’s cock to thrust even deeper into your cunt, her thrusts were powerful, each movement drove you up the door trembling with pleasure.

She started pounding up into you at a more intense pace, making you moan in shock, the action making you push back against her cock. Her hand that wasn’t in your hair lifted from your hip, and came down on your ass once again, sending a hard slap to it as she massaged the flesh immediately after.

“Ah! Fuck!!” You cried, the pleasure was too much to even suppress your moans as you kept pushing your hips back to meet Natasha’s relentless pace. “Oh, please Nat!!” You scream as she drove into you.

“Nat, I’m gon..gonna cum, please can I cum.” You begged, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as Natasha fucked you dumb. 

“Go ahead and cum, baby.” 

To which you complied, your release had been intense but yet so full of pleasure. You trembled at reaching your climax, but to your surprise. Natasha kept rutting her cock into you as her thrusts got more and more sloppy as the seconds passed, her grunts turning into whines. 

“One more baby, just for me, c’mon. I know you’ve got another in you, please.” She pleaded as her thrusts grew more sloppier as she leaned her head down into your neck, placing delicate kisses on it as she tries to muffle her whimpers. 

You give her a loud moan in response, the overstimulation soon turning into overwhelming pleasure as you feel your second orgasm of the night building up in your lower belly. 

“Fuck..Im gonna cum detka. I can feel you clenching around me,” She babbled slightly, her red hair fluttering over the expanse of your back as she sets a faster pace for her relentless pounding, now nibbling on your neck to prevent her moans from spilling, her hand gliding in front of you as it frantically rubs at your clit.

“Fuck!!” “Cmon baby, cum, cum on my cock.” You and Natasha cried out as you reached your second climax of the night, your tight cunt clenching impossibly more around her shaft as your juices flow out of your pussy. 

The action made Natasha cum directly after you, the clenching of your soft velvety walls around her dick made her burst her seed into your womb as she let out a loud moan into the juncture of your neck. 

Natasha waited a minute before pulling out slowly, the overstimulation strong as she trembled slightly. She knew you were terribly overstimulated too with the way your legs were shaking. 

She watched as the both of your combined juices leak out of your cunt, a little bit of it landing on the floor as she fingered it back into you, making you moan once more. 

You rested your forehead against the door in front of you before slowly turning around to face Natasha, all while still leaning on the door. Natasha had always been a beautiful sight, especially now. 

Her hair was slightly tousled up, her cheeks were flushed a deep shade of red, her lips were smudged off of her lipstick, and her eyes held a deep softness and slight lust in them. You could always get lost in Natasha’s gorgeous eyes any day.

“Natasha, I just want to ask if this will mean anything to you. I wouldn’t want to have you like this with it not meaning anything.” You ask in a soft whisper, afraid of hearing the answer you dreaded the most.

Natasha saw the genuine sadness in your eyes as you whispered the question, the sight made her heart crack. It took her a second to respond as she gathered her words.

“I’ve loved you ever since Steve showed up with you in the living room. I always hoped that you returned those feelings I had for you. What happened between us right now, means everything to me, Y/n.” Natasha spoke softly, as if she were going to break a porcelain doll if she was any louder.

“I love you too, Nat. So much” You admit, walking up to Natasha and instantly closing the distance between you both. The kiss wasn’t lust filled at all, it was full of love and passion, something that you and Natasha always had for each other.

[writingoddess1125]

Roger and Jessica Rabbit Effect

Buggy Headcanon. Buggy x Reader

Support me on Kofi

Prequel <<<

• This Goofy Motherfucker definitely has a hot wife no one knows about-

• As his personal seamstress you tailor his clothes and make his costumes for all his best costumes. However he adores you, You are his everything.

• Buggy never talks about you, for good reason since he doesn't want any eyes to fall onto you and put you in a dangerous spotlight. Many Pirates didn't talk about their S/O and it was always smart to not to.

• You however were fairly ignorant of the pirate food chain. So you did gush about your husband but no one knew exactly who he was- some mysterious drifter that seemed to appear and disapear like the wind.

• It being a total accident how you were discovered.

• The Strawhat Pirates of course were the ones to discover you by accident when they landed in a small island in need of fabric for the ship sails. The dock master telling them your shop most likely had the fabrics needed.

• Once in your shop you treated them kindly and ignored the obvious flirting from Sanji who was enamored by you.

• "I have just the fabric for your ships" You said cheerfully, not noticing Zoro who was staring hard at the gold necklace that hung around your neck.

• "You're associated with the Buggy Pirates-" Zoro stated as he pointed to the necklace seeing Buggy's Jolly Roger stamped on ots pendent.

• "Hm? Oh I suppose, I'm not apart of the crew or anything but my husband is" You say cheerfully as you pull out some bundles of fabric.

• "Your husband?" They all question now highly interested, Such a pretty person like you being married to anyone apart of Buggy's crew was surprising.

• You giggle at their curious faces finding it adorable. "Yes my Husband, The Captian himself Buggy"

• "..."

• "YOURE BUGGY'S WIFE!?!" They all scream in total terror at how You could be married to that juggling buffoon

• Sanji has an crisis in the corner of your shop as he tries to figure out how he is still single yet Buggy the Clown is married to a hottie!?

• "D-Did he brain wash you? Threaten you?" Nami begs, Holding your hand like you needed some form of comfort.

• "No?- of course not" You say confused and raising a brow at the young pirates all so confused.

• "But you're so pretty, and Nice?-" Usopp points out.

• "Well he's very romantic and sweet" You gush, the youthful pirates staring at you with a deadpan stare.

• "Buggy- Romantic and Sweet?" They all say in disbelief unison.

• "That and he makes me laugh"

• Blushing you go on to explain how loving your sweet husband was, how even though he was out to see most of the time at sea he would constantly send gifts, love letters and more. The crew in shock at this.

• You were such a sweet person, the Strawhats all couldn't help but adore you. Even offering them dinner which they didn't refuse and spending a night in the spare rooms of your home above the shop-

• Seeing the photos of you and Buggy together also adding as a confirmation of your stories. By morning you sent them on their way in new clothes some fabrics for the ships sails, and some leftovers you insisted they take.

• "You kids have a safe journey!" You chime out as the group leaves waving bye and even a few giving some hugs goodbye. Luffy smiling widely at you as you wave to him-

• "Oh before I forget. Would you mind giving this to Buggy next time you see him? You seem to run into him a lot" You say cheerfully as you hold out a blue wrapped box to the young Captian.

• Luffy smiled at this as he took the small box and pocketed it.

"Of course Mrs (Y/N)!" He said cheerfully skipping away with the rest of the crew to return to sea.

• It would be about a month before they crossed paths with Buggy-

• "Straw Hat!!" Buggy yelled as he saw them, his head floating from his body in normal flashy fashion.

• After a mild confrontation were as per usual Buggy got his ass handed to him, The Strawhats were about to leave when Luffy remembered something.

• "Oh- By the way Mrs (Y/N) told us to give you this and-" Luffy says calmly as he reached into his pockets remebering the gift box you handed him- Buggy's whole body going as stiff as a board as he turns to the strawhats with his pupils as small as possible and his body seeming to come apart at the seams.

• It was the first time Luffy or anyone felt a threatening Haki from Buggy starting to drip out like a dam about to burst, in seconds the Clown was holding Luffy by his shirt with a great force.

• Zoro hand started to rest on their weapons as for the first time in a long time Buggy looked- Threatening?

• "Who told you about (Y/N)" Buggy hissed dangerously- Luffy gearing up for another fight one far more serious but then he saw it-

• Buggy was angry/scared and thinking they were a threat to your safety. Luffy pulling out the gift box calmly and smiling.

"Don't worry your secret is safe"

• Buggy stared at Luffy before his free hand took the box and dropped the Strawhat pirate, quickly tearing open the blue box and looking inside. His eyes softening as he saw a new set of gloves inside and a bandana. Slipping off his worn white gloves for the brand new set you'd sown. As well as reading the scribbled note you'd left for him- A crooked smile on his lips at your handwriting and the terrible Nickname you gave him. 'Buggy Boo'

• He glares at the Strawhats his normal fashion. "GET OUT OF HERE STRAWHATS!' He yelled loudly stomping his food dramatically

• A thought crossing all their minds-

• 'Has he been just goofing off this whole time to keep you safe?-"

[biteofcherry]

Touch the Darkness

dark mafia!Steve Rogers x female reader

summary: When you unexpectedly are appointed to run a health center, you foresee many struggles along the way, but not one in the form of a merciless mob boss. Steve Rogers’ core aim is to own and he won’t take no for an answer. To any of his demands.

warnings for this chapter: dark!Steve Rogers; possessiveness; power imbalance; forced marriage; D/s undertones; jealous Reader (though she claims otherwise); non-lethal poisoning; sex; turned on by violence;

word count: 6.8k

Author’s Note: I know you've waited a bit for this next chapter. I didn't exactly have trouble writing it, my muse was simply interested in other projects. But I'm always a hoe for dark Steve, so returning to him was inevitable. As it was inevitable for Steve's dick darkness to start corrupting Reader in small doses. Or, maybe, he gives her boldness to act out on instincts she would otherwise suppress, because they're not proper 😏 For a brighter side - Princess gains a genuine new friend! 🥰

Touch the Darkness Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Chapter 8. Tempestuous as the sea

~ * ~

You could blame the slow process of writing on the tiredness, but it was honestly the fault of delicious macaroons you’ve been reaching for every single sentence. At least with the sweet bite the mundane typing of a bland report felt a little more exciting. Once you ate the final macaroon, only the boring part would remain. 

Of all the excitement and challenges that came with running a health center, the bureaucratic side of it was truly exhausting. 

A knock on the door of your home office startled you mid bite. 

Before you swallowed and managed to invite him in, Steve was already pushing the door open and strolling inside.

You glared at him, but didn’t comment on the intrusion. Knowing your husband, he’d say that he came in your pussy just this morning and you had no objections to it, so why fuss over a damn office. 

Pointing out that you didn’t exactly invite him into your pussy either, was a futile argument. Especially since you didn’t stop him, or even elbow him in those perfect, stupid abs of marble. 

Quite the contrary. You rocked back against him and begged, until he rolled you fully onto your front and savaged you. 

You were still disgusted with yourself for that. As well for the sex two nights before. And the one in the shower. Or the Sunday humiliation, when it became clear that the chef was in the kitchen preparing your fancy dinner while you were screaming the house down as Steve wrung three orgasms out of you, one after the other. 

So disgusted. And still giving in to the temptation that was the devil himself. 

Who walked around your desk and leaned against it, looking down at you curled in the chair and with your cheeks stuffed with sweets. 

A strange feeling knotted your stomach. 

You were barefoot, wearing a pair of leggins and a hoodie. Crumbs of gooey sweetness were sticking to the corners of your mouth. Steve was barefoot, too; which meant he came home for the rest of the day, with no plans of leaving. He had a plain, tight T-shirt paired with dark jeans, his leather jacket already taken off. He stared at your face, only briefly glancing at the almost empty plate of macaroons.

This scene was so… domestic.

Instead of unwrapping that terrifying thought, you diverted your attention to the royal red envelope in Steve’s hand. A beautiful calligraphy shimmered in gold. 

“What’s that?” You asked, swallowing the rest of your macaroon. 

Unexpectedly, Steve leaned forward. Tip of his tongue licked at the corner of your mouth, swiping the sticky sweetness. Then it plugged between your lips that opened on a soft gasp.

The kiss was short, but intense and depraved. As it always was with Steve. And your treacherous body chased it as he pulled back.

“Lemon would pair better.” He hummed, resuming his previous stance.

“What?” You blinked, confused. Your head was still swimming in dizzy fog from that unexpected kiss. As well from the fact nothing more followed.

You were married, but there was nothing marital about your relationship with Steve. There were no sweet kisses good morning or goodbye, or hugs and cuddles. If either of you initiated physical contact it was to fuck. 

But now no touching, or undressing followed. The unexpected kiss remained just that - a shard of affection a normal newlywed couple might show each other.

It messed with your mind. And pulled at a cord in your chest.

“With your taste.” Steve explained; corners of his mouth curling in a hungry smirk.

Which, really, should be followed by his mouth descending on other parts of you. 

Instead, your body filled with heat both from the kiss and his words while Steve returned to tapping the envelope against his thigh, unbothered. 

Swallowing, you pushed that spark of need down. Steve was already too aware of how eagerly your body responded to him. Especially, since you stopped fighting it too much when the desire sparked low in your core. You weren’t going to further your humiliation. 

“So what’s with that?” You asked, pointing at the red envelope. 

“An invitation.” Steve showed you the beautifully addressed front. “For Mr and Mrs Rogers.”

You ignored his pleased smirk when he said the last part. It still evoked annoyance. The realization other people were now calling you by his last name fueled that irritation. 

“To Stark’s annual post expo gala.” He said it with a roll of his eyes.

Clearly, he wasn’t thrilled. You doubted it was because he had no regard for technology and knowledge. As much as you hated to admit it, Steve Rogers was exceptionally smart and up to date with many areas of expertise. 

From what you learned about your husband over the weeks, he wasn’t a fan of boring, social chit-chat and fake politeness. Which is why he preferred his direct, brutal methods of communication. But even he couldn’t fully escape socializing with the people he had on payroll and leash. 

“I assume it’s expected of me to go with you,” you glared at him, even though a small spark of excitement flickered in your chest.

You’ve been to a few fancy parties and fundraisers, but to attend something of this caliber was a thrilling novelty. 

For one, you’d get to dress up. You liked it, once in a while, to feel like a modern sort of Cinderella, who gets to swirl around in a pretty dress and eat expensive snacks. Secondly, it was a tempting opportunity for you as a director of the health center to lure in new benefactors. The project you’ve been working on was one that would need a solid dose of funding. 

There was also the aspect of meeting people in similar fields. Stark’s expo focused on technology mostly, but that area leaked into medical fields, as well. There were a lot of neuroscience breakthroughs in the past years, which served psychiatric and psychological fields. It could prove beneficial, if you spoke to some experts.

“Princess,” Steve tilted his head, “fuck the expectations.”

You almost sagged in disappointment.

“But-” he continued- “I have a few things to settle with some people and they will be there. It saves me a lot of time to do it there. And since I’m going, you are going, too.” 

He dropped the envelope onto the desk then cupped your chin with his hand. You hated how you didn’t hate the jolt of pleasure his touch evoked. 

“First official outing as newlyweds, Princess. Gotta make an impression.” There was near cruel mirth in his blue eyes.

“Pffft!” You snorted, attempting to pull away from his grip. You still haven’t fully accepted that once Steve had his hand on you, he was unlikely to relent.

Well, your mind didn’t accept it. Your body has become a whore for it. 

“I doubt I’ll be making any sort of impression on the corrupted men who kneel for you,” unless they were disgusting pigs interested in ogling Steve’s sidepiece. “Though I guess I could use you, for a change. Your name could be impressive enough for some schmucks to donate to the center.” 

“Tell them you’re mine and they’ll fund you three centers.” Steve said it so casually, without any hint of cockiness. In his eyes, it was a simple truth. 

“I’m not yours,” you hissed, more annoyed at the heat you felt creeping over your skin.

At that Steve smirked. 

He released your chin and stood up. He didn’t even counter your claim, as if it was the most pitiful lie that didn’t require any argument because neither of you believed it. 

He stole one macaroon before leaving your office. 

You quickly stuffed your mouth with the only macaroon left, in case he would take that away from you, too. Then you returned your gaze to the project document. Suddenly, with the prospect of potential donors, you felt a new wave of energy and motivation to write it all out. 

You clung to the claim that it was the same motivation filling you with excited lightness as you donned on a beautiful evening dress three weeks later. Adamant on enjoying the fancy party and working for the center’s goals, you pushed away the nagging thoughts of going there as Steve’s wife. 

Not that you thought anyone would be interested in that, anyway. You weren’t a famous socialite, or a model, and you considered Steve to be terrifying enough that no one would imagine him getting married. Much less gossiping about it.

The smaller argument you weaved - about you not even matching your outfits, ergo no one would recognize you as a couple - died the moment you descended the stairs to where Steve was already waiting for you. 

The only time he wore a suit was at your wedding. His usual style was rougher, more practical and intimidating. A jagged chunk of volcanic rock, still pulsing with burning lava. So it was quite shocking to see him in a dark blue two piece that was cut so perfectly that his broad shoulders and tapered waist seemed more prominently outlined than when he wore jeans and tight shirts. 

The shade of his suit was dark enough to hold that dangerous, intimidating aura, but the shiny blue hue matched your choice of dress perfectly. 

He was the night sky to your moon glow. 

Steve didn’t mask the hunger in his eyes as he looked at you. Though you were thankful he didn’t utter anything about not making it to the gala, because he wanted to sate that hunger. 

He did, however, order you to turn around; with that rough, low voice that had your clit tingling. Despite the vow you made to yourself two months ago, to not so easily comply with his commands, you did as asked. You found yourself staring at your reflection in the large mirror in the entryway, your body heating up from the sudden lewd imagery of what could happen if Steve put his hands on you. Would he make you watch as he…

His ice blue eyes sparked a dark satisfaction, undoubtedly reading your body well enough to suspect where your thoughts have wandered.

But he didn’t mock you. Instead, his touch was a gentle brush that evoked goosebumps as he placed something shiny and heavy on your chest. 

He clasped the white gold necklace at the back of your neck as you stared at the incredible rock nestled in a cushion of diamonds that were so crystal white they appeared to be frosty snow. 

The rock in the middle was a hue of sundown orange, mostly transparent, but with a flame encapsulated within. Like the heart of a star. 

“Once upon a time,” Steve’s fingers trailed over your exposed collarbones and down along the delicate chain of the necklace. “There were six rarest jewels in the world. Called the infinity stones.”

Memory of Batroc asking about them flashed in your mind and you held your breath. 

The rumors were true, then. Steve was the ghost from the legend, who tore through the Greek magnate’s citadel and stole the rarest gems, without leaving a trace. If this was one of them, were the rest nestled in the rings on his fingers like you presumed once before? 

“This one is called the soul stone.” Steve traced the outline of the pendant with his fingertip, dipping it into the valley between your breasts. Your nipples hardened instantly.

“Fitting, since you’re the devil who stole mine,” your retort had no bite. Not with how breathless you sounded.

Steve chuckled, slipping his hand over your breast and lower. His fingers splayed across your belly as he pressed closer against you. His breath was a warm tickle on your skin as he brushed his lips along the column of your throat.

“I stole more than that, haven’t I, Princess?” He smirked at the flash of fear in your eyes, which dissolved into stubborn defiance. 

“Yes. My peace and chance at happiness.” You glared at him in the mirror. Which didn’t dent his amusement. 

With a chuckle, Steve kissed your neck then scraped his teeth over the spot. Thankfully, not hard enough to leave any evidence, but making your pussy clench. 

You scurried away towards the exit, before he decided to humiliate you by leaving a hickey that anyone could see. 

You tried not to show how Steve’s touch on your lower back affected you, neither on your way to the car, nor when you entered the lavish gala at the Stark Tower. You doused the warmth of comfort with a flute of champagne when Steve spent the first solid hour keeping you at his side and introducing you to various people. As his wife.

It was only after you two returned to the main hostess and Tony’s wife, Pepper, who greeted you at the entrance and then smoothly roped you into a social conversation, that Steve murmured something about attending to business.

He left you with a brief kiss to your cheek and a brush of his fingers sliding from the small of your back over your ass. Unapologetic about doing it publicly.

You narrowed your eyes, glaring at his retreating form. 

“Ah, newlyweds.” Next to you, Pepper let a dramatically dreamy sigh. 

Your gaze shifted to her, only to notice she was most amused. Unlike some of the women whom you were introduced to, she didn’t look at you with envy or disdain. Which had annoyed you, because really there was nothing to be jealous of. Well, mindblowing sex perhaps. But that was it. Nothing more. 

If they wanted Steve so much, you’d happily give him away. If he only let you. 

Pepper seemed genuine in her friendly approach, witty responses and warmth. The only flaw you found in her so far was the fact she was friendly with Steve, too.

Not overtly, in a way betraying carnal interest, or former relationship (which you sensed from a few other women at the banquet). But the platonic friendliness toward someone like Steve was alarming in itself. 

“Oh yeah,” you snorted, lifting your glass of champagne to your lips, “I’m sooo head over heels for him.”

Pepper’s laugh was soft and tinkling like velvet bells. Nothing fake, or annoying in the sound of it. Quite the opposite, you were surprised how it put you at ease after mingling with people who wore fake politeness like a family crest.

Crinkles appeared in the corners of her eyes as she looked at you and you couldn’t help but respond with your own grin.

“People often mistake my sunny disposition for naivety. They're very wrong.” Pepper said, taking a sip of her strawberry gin & tonic. 

“I know you didn't marry Steve out of love.” She stated bluntly, without judgment or conspiratory whispering. “But watching you two, some things are unmistakable.”

She lifted her left shoulder in a shrug, sparkling amusement in her eyes turning into a knowing look. Your heart halted before setting in a slightly panicked flutter. 

There were little moments when you felt certain cracks in your hard hateful shell, but you hoped that you managed to quickly hide them behind walls and under a mask. You didn’t want Steve finding more of your weaknesses. It was even worse, if someone else saw them.

Pepper barely met you and if she noticed how comfortable you felt at times beside Steve (when you forgot to remember you’re supposed to hate him and be disgusted by his touch), then the bastard must have been aware of them, too. Crap.

Still, you arched your brow as if you had no idea what she was implying. Pepper’s amusement deepened, she wasn’t buying your cluelessness. 

“There may not be romantic affection, but he sure gives you attention.” She said, angling her body so you stood shoulder to shoulder, facing the grand ballroom.

Before you snorted that you’d rather never have drawn Steve’s attention, she vaguely pointed at the room full of people. Expensive suits and dresses worth more than your half year salary, diamonds dripping, chests puffed. Women polished to perfection glued to the side of their men, sweet smiles offered on painted lips.

“That's something only very few women here experience. It’s rare.” There was a hint of disappointment in her tone, but you doubted it had to do with her own relationship. 

Tony Stark was like a hummingbird on energizer and coke - he fleeted from one conversation to the other, growing bored, acting pretentious asshole. He stopped for longer only with a few people. But every half an hour or so, he would search for Pepper and the way his attention zeroed in on her left no room to doubt his love for her.

She grounded him. Gave him a moment to recharge, even as she called him out on some of his antics. 

Many of the women at the gala, who accompanied their husbands, or partners, were there as an accessory. Beautiful, adding to the status, but few were even acknowledged by their company. 

“I’m not sure having Steve Rogers’ attention is exactly a good thing.” You pointed out. 

Everyone here may officially pretend he was a ruthless businessman, while they all knew the bloody truth. He was a mafia boss, a brutal king of the underworld, who wouldn’t blink an eye flaying someone open here in the light of the crystal chandeliers. 

No one wanted his attention on them, not really. 

“Not for most.” Pepper agreed. “Though some of the women might disagree.”

“Are you talking from experience?” You maintained a neutral, indifferent tone (mostly because you didn’t think there was ever anything between Pepper and Steve); yet there was a tiny flicker of something angry that ignited at the prospect.

It stirred with a growl and clawed out a few times that night, when a few of the women made it obvious they were wet and willing for Steve.

“God, no!” Pepper snorted, pretending to shudder. “I’m not that adventurous.”

“Yeah, bungee jumping without rope might be less of an adrenaline rush than being with him,” you rolled your eyes, but the corners of your mouth tilted in a grin. 

“Well, it seems only fair to give back in return. What would perturb the dark overlord?” Pepper pretended to seriously ponder, tapping her finger against her lips.

“I could try setting Bucky on fire.” 

Pepper’s laugh resounded with the same melodic chime as previously, but much louder. Not a single fake note, her burst of laughter was real. It enticed your own laugh to bubble out; both of you falling into a fit of giggles behind your drink glasses. 

You drew the attention of many people, who either watched you with suspicion, or glared offended. You didn’t care. And when your gaze connected with Steve’s, who looked your way from the other side of the room while some men were babbling next to him, you didn’t even pretend to be gloomy.

“Now that was the height of entertainment tonight.” Pepper looped her arm around yours, still smiling brilliantly ear to ear. “For me, at least. Now, how to repay you for that? I can tell you all the spicy gossip. We could get drunk and no one would dare to say anything to either me or you.” 

“Not gossip, but information.” You finished your champagne and reached for another flute as a waiter passed by. “I need to know more about this swamp my so-called husband treads through. And I need to milk some of them for money for the center.” 

“I know just the right people for that,” she nodded with determination and steered you toward the first potential benefactor. 

Pepper’s company was a wonderful balm and entertainment rolled into one. She was a graceful hostess, smart and perceptive professional, but also a bubbly imp who didn’t spare you the details about some sordid affairs. 

Though she could excuse herself with her duties, she stuck with you the entire time. She also managed not to smirk at your glower when she pointed at three women who have in the past fucked Steve. 

However, her smile turned mischievous as she spotted someone over your shoulder. She reminded you of the lunch date in three days that you happily agreed to, then smoothly glided away before you managed to properly say goodbye. 

Words stuck in your throat as you felt the familiar solid warmth at your back. Steve’s shadow cast over you first, then his heat and scent engulfed you. Like a mythological fate, always reaching its grasp for the heroine, no matter the hard fight towards the light, your personal devil softly pulled you back into his clutches. 

His hand touched your back and he spun you around. 

“Having fun, Princess?” He looked down at you. 

Icy blade of his gaze cut down men bigger than life, but, despite the first instinctive flash of fear, you felt it slicing through the layers of your clothes and defences. 

Plate by plate, you quickly reinforced your shell, to at least endure a few hours more before Steve got under your skin again. 

And into your cunt, because with his hot looks and your four glasses of champagne that was inevitable. 

“I don’t think parties of this kind are meant to have fun.” You scrunched up your nose. “But I managed to sway some rich snobs to potentially fund that educational project for the center. Leon Stavros seems keen to donate half the sum.”

You announced with a proud tilt of your chin and a smile. Tame enough to not share the actual happiness you felt with Steve. You wanted to boast about your little success, but you had to remember that he was the bane of your existence.  

Steve’s hand on your back settled heavier, while his other slid along your arm. He took your hand in his, outstretched your joined arms and in a single move swept you onto the dancefloor. 

“You’ll have to use his money for a different project.” He continued your conversation as he led you across the floor. “The psychoeducation and resources for caretakers project is already fully funded.” 

It took you a moment for his words to register, because you were still scrambling to catch up with the fact that a heartbeat ago you were standing off to the side and now you were dancing across the ballroom. 

It was truly mind boggling that your psychopath husband was a damn good dancer.

“What? Who?” You blinked, when it finally dawned on you what he said. You even cast a glance around, wondering who managed to deliver the funds so quickly.

Something sharp pierced through your chest as you realized there was only one person who knew before everyone else and could fund a project with a single transfer. Your gaze flicked back to Steve’s handsome face.

“Steve…” 

Heaviness of the situation turned worse by the second, because he wasn’t showing that smug, triumphant look, which would at least remind you to hate him. 

“You were determined to get that project running.” Steve replied easily. There was no affectionate passion in his next words, but still they chipped at the walls protecting you - “What you want, you get.”

“Thank you.” At the moment you didn’t know how else to respond. How to treat this gift. 

You could think of it as his manipulation to get you further into his sticky web, but he already had you at his mercy on all accounts. No, it flashed too much thoughtfulness.  

To preserve the comfortable setting of animosity, you asked cheekily - “What if I want a divorce?”

You were determined to keep asking for a divorce every chance you got. Officially, you believed it was because you wanted out of this fucked up marriage. Secretly, you were thrilled with the various ways Steve responded to that demand. 

“Then-” he pulled you even closer, his cheek brushing yours as he leaned down to whisper into your ear- “you get a fucking so hard, any silly ideas drip out of you permanently.” 

Steve delivered on the hard fucking, even though you haven’t mentioned divorce again that night. 

You blamed the champagne and happiness at having your project funded for making you sit so close to him in the car on your way back from the gala, rubbing your heated body against him with unrestrained need. Steve was merciful enough to not wait it out until you lost the battle with your own will and initiated sex yourself, but instead dragged you over his lap, rolled up your dress and fingered you into a dripping, screaming puddle before you made it home.

Then he took you hard, in front of that fucking mirror in the hall. With you completely naked, wearing only the necklace and watching yourself give in to the monster completely. 

You nearly passed out when he fucked you again in bed. Your almost unconscious state didn’t stop Steve from using you thoroughly and then spilling thick ropes of white cum all over your body, white drops landing around the jewel sparkling on your chest. 

Though your body was wonderfully blissed out each time you and Steve had sex - which was becoming an almost daily thing - you still refused to use the blissful adjective to describe your marriage. Or any positive adjective, for that matter. Even as the comfort of sitting next to him or sharing meals increased; or how he casually draped your legs over his lap, massaging your calves while he typed murderous decrees on his phone. 

The word domestic echoed in your head often, but you drowned it in screams of his victims, gunshots, Steve’s cold and sinister commands. 

You shouldn’t feel at ease and comfortable around the devil who kept you chained to him. You gave yourself a pass for enjoying mindmelting orgasms, it was a small reward for your suffering, but you wouldn’t let yourself get accustomed to being a wife. Not to Steve. 

So you pretended to be only mildly annoyed when he strolled into your office one day, bringing lunch as if he was a normal loving spouse, and announcing that you’ll be hosting a dinner at home. For the mayor and his wife. To his credit, Steve didn’t imply you had to be the one preparing said dinner. Having a chef was another benefit of your doom. But the expectation of playing the sweet wife and hostess to the corrupted pair of a politician and socialite made your blood boil.

Or maybe it was the fact that mayor’s wife was one of the few women Pepper confirmed to have been fucking Steve in the past.

No, you told yourself as you put on the soul stone necklace when preparing for said dinner. You didn’t care who he sank his cock into. You didn’t care, if he returned to that and left you in peace. 

But your conviction shattered to sharp, jagged pieces when mayor’s wife made obvious moves at your husband, with her own fucking husband sitting right there at the table! 

You were appalled. By her rudeness, of course. 

Mayor played a clueless idiot, probably too scared of Steve to fight for honor. Or maybe he was actually gaining something from having his wife almost drop to her knees and swallow Steve’s cock whole. You played indifference, because why should you care? 

So maybe your knife and fork scraped against the plate so loud that everyone at the table cringed in pain, when the mayor’s wife briefly touched Steve’s arm and mentioned missing their passionate art discussions. It was nothing. Just a spasm in your hand. And you gulping down half of your wine glass all unladylike was because you needed to soothe an itch in your throat, not because the floozy licked her lips and made a suggestion Steve should go with her to the new exhibition. 

Though Steve hadn’t replied to Miliana’s advances, focusing on the not so subtle business talk with her husband, he didn’t refuse her either. Which made you want to reach for the knife he had custom made for you and stab him with it, when later that night he had the audacity to touch you. 

Steve merely chuckled, absolutely amused. Mockingly asked if you were jealous. Which you were not! 

Tension slowly dropped after that, as days passed and you haven’t seen that skank’s face. Unexpectedly, however, the mayor requested an official visit to the center. It was a short one, a half an hour so the press could write about his interest in healthcare and supporting new community focused projects. You also suspected he wanted to kiss Steve’s ass.

You didn’t have a reason to deny him, especially since the press would also mention the center and new projects, which would be helpful. It was even better, because he came only with some of his office staff, no wife at his side. 

But then, just as you were breathing in relief that the circus was almost over, the mayor had the balls to invite himself over to your house for dinner the upcoming weekend. 

In true political bullshit manipulation, saying how his wife loved your chef’s scallops and couldn’t wait to taste them again and how your house provided comfort to talk business with your husband. 

At this point, you were wondering if the slimy asshole was a cuckold. 

He was bending backwards just to give his own wife an opportunity to touch your fucking husband. Maybe he really was into that. Maybe he wanted to watch. Maybe you should’ve vomited when you relayed the request to Steve and he shrugged that he’s free Saturday evening: if the greedy idiot wants to crawl begging for more scraps. 

Your appetite evaporated, as you spent days fuming at the prospect of another weird dinner when a shameless woman would be drooling after Steve while you were sitting there right opposite of her, in your own damn home. 

No, this time you wouldn’t stand for it. You would make Miliana associate your house with something most unpleasant. And a small vial stolen from one of the medicine cabinets at the center was going to help you with that.

It was surprisingly easy, really. It should shock you how calm you were as you prepared for the dinner; how a soft smile graced your lips as you set the table while the chef prepared delicious food. But now that determination guided your hand through the plan, earlier fiery aggravation melted away. 

Briefly, you wondered if the same calm took over Steve when he took lives. 

You shook that thought away, since you weren’t attempting to kill anyone. Though when a memory of her hand on Steve’s arm flashed in your mind, your fingers itched to grab a knife. 

Applying a little drop to the bottom of a crystal glass and another on the rim, smearing it along, you felt an odd kind of satisfaction unfurl in your chest. There was no hesitation, no worry about potential mix-up. No, you were certain Miliana would once again seat on Steve’s left. Just like the last time. It was cunning, since it appeared all innocent - her sitting on her husband’s right, just you were sitting on your husband’s right, the men facing each other. 

Your smile widened when the couple entered your dining room and sat exactly like you predicted. Politely fake conversation flew as the chef brought out first dish and his assistant poured wine into glasses. 

The scallops tasted even more delicious, in your opinion. Especially when after a few sips of wine the mayor’s wife had to quickly excuse herself to the bathroom. 

Few minutes later the mayor’s phone vibrated, which led to him frowning at the screen and excusing himself as well - undoubtedly to aid his wife. When he walked back into the dining room a while later, he looked nervous and embarrassed, paler too.

“My apologies. It appears my wife and I have to leave promptly, it was unplanned, but can’t be avoided.” 

You made a sound of worried pity, but continued to cut into your own food and eating it without an ounce of genuine distraught. Steve arched a brow in surprise, but nodded his head, which seemed to bring the mayor immense relief. The man was more scared of offending Steve than for his wife’s health. 

It was less than a minute when you heard their car take off from the driveway. The sound of it and the fact they were no longer polluting the space of your home pleased you greatly. 

“Mhm, these scallops are really delicious,” you hummed, licking your fork. 

“Princess,” Steve tuned the petname in a sing-song tone. “What did you do?”

Slowly, you looked his way. He didn’t seem angry, nor worried. He angled his body towards you, propping one elbow on the table and drumming his fingers in a steady rhythm. He wasn’t asking if it was your doing, he already knew. 

“Don’t worry, I didn’t permanently damage one of your mistresses. She’s just gonna spend a day or two glued to the toilet.” You snorted, clenching your fingers around the fork. “But maybe next time she’ll reconsider coming into the house where your wife lives.”

Dark gleam flickered over Steve’s ice blue eyes. 

He leaned forward, moving his hands to grip the edge of your chair and yanked it at an angle toward him. Your legs were between his, his hands gripping the sides of your chair, veins protruding in his forearms as his muscles tensed.

“Your possessiveness gets me hard.” He chuckled darkly.

“I’m not possessive!” You objected immediately, crossing your hands over your chest. 

“You demanded I marry you, the ruthless fucking king of the underworld. So now you have to deal with having a wife. And your reluctant queen won’t stand for any more humiliation.” You spat the last part, boldly leaning forward and glaring at him with all the accumulated hatred. 

“Princess,” Steve inched even closer, not the least bothered by your outburst. Quite the opposite, he appeared to love it. “My dick hasn’t even twitched for any other woman, since I tasted your lips. There’s no pleasure in standing their fake, exaggerated despair, when I have your sweet pussy so responsive to my darkness…”

Your retort died on your tongue when suddenly one of Steve’s hands gripped your chin.

“Now-” he tightened his pinch on your chin, his voice smoothly transforming into a cold warning. “Don’t ever do anything like that again.” 

“Miliana doesn’t have enough spunk and her husband is too much of a scaredy wimp to retaliate in any form.” He showed zero empathy toward them. “But there are eels and sharks swimming around us and some of them would dare to bite back.”

Holding your chin, Steve forced you to lean closer. His breath tickled your mouth as he inched forward, as well.

“And if anyone dared to put a finger on you, it would end in a bloodbath.”

Only Steve could make a psychopathic threat sound like a seductive, velvet vow of a lover.

Your brain screamed that it was wrong, that you should be disgusted by his words and scared of how easily it came to him to take lives. Yet your insides filled with heat, one spreading through your chest and a wave of it pooling low in your abdomen.

“Don’t go on a murder spree, because of some macho obligation.” You swallowed hard, your voice barely above a whisper.

“You. Are. Mine, Princess.” Steve punctuated each word with a brush of his lips against yours. “To harm or disrespect you means to hurt or disrespect me. I have no mercy for those. I would cut off the limb, with which they hurt you, and carve out their intestines. Then fuck you while their blood pools at your feet.”

“That’s disgusting,” with how breathy you sounded, your claim felt like a lie.

One that Steve read right away.

“It turns you on.” He chuckled, grinning. 

“I know that you get so wet from the scary, unhinged things that I do.” His other hand slapped your knees apart.

“I’m not-” you frowned, ready to deny that as well. Even though your body was already primed for him.

Words went forgotten when Steve picked you in a swift move and deposited you in his lap. The hand on your chin moved to grip the front of your neck; the cool sensation of his rings digging into your soft skin made you gasp. The sound nearly stopped in your throat, because he tightened his grip. And it made your arousal burst stronger.

His right hand ventured between your spread thighs. His fingers easily slipped beneath the flimsy fabric of your underwear and teased your slick folds.

“Soaked.” Steve triumphed, running the ring-adorned knuckle of his index finger up and down between your folds. “Sweet, good-hearted Princess who lives to help people, cumming on her brutal husband’s weapons and cock.” 

The mere mention of his thick cock made your pussy pulse. The image of his gun and of the knife sliding along your skin and pressed so close to your most sensitive areas caused a shiver to rock your whole body.

Steve chuckled at your body’s reaction. He laced kisses and licks along your jaw, continuing to tease your cunt.

“As for you wanting to be a queen at my side…” he sucked your earlobe lewdly, making you moan. 

“Do you know what a queen’s role is?” He whispered right into your ear before pulling back slightly.

“To stand fierce and unbending beside her king.” He withdrew his hand, kissing your lips when you pouted at the loss of delicious stimulation. Fingers sticky with your slick, he ran his palm up your belly and over your breast. Then to your arm. 

“And to give him an heir.”

Steve’s eyes locked with yours as his wet fingers circled your arm, thumb pressing right over where your contraceptive implant was hidden beneath your skin. 

“Are you ready for that, Princess?” He asked, rubbing the spot in sinfully slow circles, as he would do your clit. “Are you ready to take out this little implant and let me breed you properly?” 

Your brain was too scrambled, even though Steve barely touched you, really. The adrenaline from poisoning a woman who dared to flirt with your husband mixed with desire that the fucker so easily ignited in you. 

The unexpected mention of impregnation? In that dark, raw way only your husband dared to speak to you? For a short moment your mind simply stopped working.

“No!” You clenched your eyes, letting the last remnants of reason fight against the threat. 

Steve didn’t seem perturbed by your refusal. Perhaps it wasn’t even something he was interested in, just another means to torment you with and make you yield to his command. 

“Until then, you remain my Princess.” He declared, cutting off your airflow for a few seconds and taking possession of your mouth. 

When he let you breathe again, you felt dizzy and pliant. Your own hands clenched on his shoulders as Steve stood up abruptly. He kicked the chair away and placed you on the dining table. 

Plates and wine glasses tumbled over, food and wine spilling across the tablecloth and dripping down on the floor. You felt the sticky wetness soaking into your back as Steve splayed you on the table, but you didn’t care. Not when he was holding you down by your throat with one hand and ripping your soaked underwear with the other. 

Then there was the sound of a zipper and Steve’s low, sexy groan as he gripped his hard cock and stroked it a few times. 

Steve held your gaze as he tapped his dick against your pulsing clit and then nudged it into your opening. A needy whine vibrated in your throat, tempting the fingers around your neck to squeeze just a tad tighter. 

He slammed into you in one stroke; dark victory flamed in his eyes as your body jerked and your pussy clamped around him. 

Buried to the hilt, with his hand around your throat and the other holding your leg bent and pressed against your chest, Steve looked down at you. Danger pulsed off of him like a dark aura, reminding you how defenceless you were.

“Don’t ever fucking endanger what’s mine.” He warned.

You glared at him, indignant at being referred to as his. But then he snapped his hips back and into you again, and your ire flowed into brain short-circuiting pleasure. 

“My good, depraved Princess.” Steve praised, fucking you hard. “Creaming around my cock so prettily.” 

You fisted the tablecloth, mewling as each of his thrust drove you closer to the peak. It was so rough, so raw and based on urges you never considered yourself to have. You hated it. Hated Steve. Hated what he made you into. And you screamed his name as you came.

[arpicityandneed]

Me crashing out after reading this 😵‍💫😵‍💫

Satisfied

18+

Mob!Steve x reader x Bodyguard!Bucky 

This can be read as a stand alone. What started off as a oneshot turned into a final three part piece with our beautiful menaces. 

Craving

Just a Taste 

Warnings: Cuckolding, Breeding kink, pregnancy kink, lactation kink, dom Steve, switch Bucky, Sub reader, so much dirty talking 

Keep reading

[ronearoundblindly]

Safety Captain (1)

lifeguard!Steve Rogers x vacationer!Reader (see series)

Summary: A very sexy man shows up at a very unsexy moment during your vacation.

Warnings for mild language, other guests being as thirsty as Reader, and a vague injury/danger. WC 1945

Written for @bigtreefest's Summer Lovin' 300 follower celebration (I'm very late tho 🥲), using the prompts “it hurts when I ___” “then stop doing that” and pool/resort/hotel. There will be a few small parts to this with eventual smut; this is just the meet-cute sorta.

If you consider drowning a peaceful and relaxing experience, then your trip’s going splendidly.

Water hitting your lungs stings much worse than sunscreen in your eyes, but the shock makes you gasp anyway. Your skin feels pressure everywhere. You don’t know which way is up. The world is bright and blue and shimmering until an arm encircles and yanks you backward by your chest—your bare chest, you realize, since the cups on your bathing suit top flipped when you hit the the pool at such a steep angle.

Once at the surface, a gift and a curse greets you, garbled hum replaced by a solid slap of screaming, the blare of whistles. Light burns, water burns, air burns.

Oh yes, this is going swimmingly.

You struggle to get enough fresh hell anyway, coughing out water, air stinging worse. Your limbs contract to fight the pain, but the wall of muscle behind you is unyielding.

“Out of the way,” a deep voice shouts close to your ear. “Buck, make me some room. Get them back.”

He—whoever he is holding you so firmly and safely—moves you to the shallow end’s stairs with heaving strokes, and just when he releases your body to lift you out of the water, he quickly flicks the front of your suit back into place.

Bless you, kind sir. You’re in love…

…or maybe that’s the hypoxia.

Unceremoniously hauled to solid ground, you continue to sputter.

“It’s alright. I got ya. Breathe for me. That’s good.”

Your sunglasses are gone, so you squint up in his shadow to see nothing but a halo of dripping gold hair. Then your eyes adjust. You see him.

Suddenly, the world is bright and blue and shimmering again, all contained in the stare of your sweet savior.

When he smiles, well, you need even more air to recover.

You’re on your side until he’s sure all the water is out of you, until his hands help you sit up, looky-lous everywhere being herded farther off by two more lifeguards and some resort security.

“The boys…” you rasp out.

“Everyone’s okay,” he rushes, rubbing your back, warm and slick against your wet skin. “You don’t have to talk yet. Take it easy.”

You still feel compelled to explain.

“The—they were teasing him—“ you point to the chubbier kid in your group, the poor thing cowering by your lounge chair headquarters for the morning “—and I tried to stop them.”

“I know, shhh, I saw. Just breathe slowly.”

“Don’t like bullies,” you cough out anyway.

The lifeguard at your side grins from ear to ear, quickly interrupted by a girl shoving your sunglasses in his face.

“I found these,” she announces, elated. “I thought it was important since you were so brave, saving someone who fell in.”

You didn’t fall; you were pushed. There’s a difference.

The lifeguard’s smile turns tight, but he gestures for the girl to hand them over to their rightful owner. She continues to stare with huge, bambi eyes.

Politely, he takes them from her and clears of his throat.

“Thank you. Now step back please.”

Her disappointment is palpable before his blue gaze returns to you. As he asks if you’re ready to move, his palm lands on your lower back and stays there supportively.

The best you can do is shift your legs beneath each other and then hiss, “it hurts when I put weight on this leg. I think I twisted my ankle on the way down.”

“Then stop doing that,” he chuckles, swooping to get his arms under you and carry you to your lounger—the right one, immediately, as if he saw the boys fighting but knew exactly where you were before then, too.

The stout little thirteen-year-old who’d been picked on steps up to you with guilty eyes. He’s one of your charges today while the other adults all drink at the swim-up bar.

“I’m sorry they—“

“It’s fine,” you croak.

“—but they wouldn’t stop, and I told them to—“

“Hey, hey,” your lifeguard whispers, deflating the boy’s panic, “she’s gonna be okay. Just a little banged up, but we got the best of the best coming to help.”

Shamefully, the boy’s eyes turn down. “Sorry they called you a ���bitch.’”

Great. Yeah. That needed to be repeated.

“Don’t worry about it. Can you go grab your cousin and—“ a brief wheeze overtakes you “—the girls and bring everyone back here so I know where you all are? Just a real quick check-in.”

He nods and runs off, almost plowing into a woman heading straight for you.

“Ah, your nurse has arrived.” The handsome, dripping wet man sitting with a hand still on your knee beams. “The best of the best, as promised.”

The older blonde lady purses her lips and rolls her eyes, ticking her head to the side. “Scoot, Steven. Let me have a look.”

He—Steven, apparently—rambles off what happened and what you mentioned hurt, standing out of the blonde’s way, but leaning over her shoulder, hovering while she manipulates your ankle.

“Thank you, darling.” She looks up pointedly. “I’ve got it from here,” she says, turning back to you. “I’m Sarah, dear. We’ll get you fixed up in no time.”

“I’m Steve,” your lifeguard interjects as he backs away. “Glad you’re alright, Miss…?”

You introduce yourself in return. “Thanks for…um…” You glance down and tug at the front of your swim suit, remembering that this man might have already seen and touched your breasts. “Thank you,” you finish weakly, voice hoarse.

Steve beams again before Sarah swats him away.

While she wraps your ankle and anchors a bag of ice to it, you scan the guard towers to realize all three of the guys on duty are ripped, but Steve is…well, he’s something else.

“God, he’s gorgeous,” you sigh aloud without realizing.

Sarah snorts, muttering, “he gets that a lot.”

You smile, thinking it’s probably no secret that the cute guy gets around. “Bit of a man whore, is he?” you joke.

The nurse looks up at you sternly. “I should hope not! I raised him better than that.”

Shit.

Your face drops, a harsh and painful swallow globs down your throat, and you…just objectified that poor man to his mother who he so sweetly called ‘the best of the best.’

Is drowning totally off the table, or can you revisit that?

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean—I—I just meant—“

She squeezes your hand, putting you out of your misery.

“It’s fine, dear. He is handsome, and I suppose there’s no harm in looking.” She packs away the last of her gear only to catch Steve’s eye across the pool.

He waves in your direction.

Sarah chuckles but doesn’t wave back. You put a quick hand up and mouth ‘thank you’ even though he probably can’t see that part.

“Well,” the nurse adds, “seems you aren’t the only one looking.”

Having one foot twice the size of the other can work. You can make it work. You’ll just camp out on a beach towel farther up the shore, no problem. The whole party is together today, day three of seven, so the good news is that you aren’t responsible for anyone. Also, your foot is only that size due to bandaging and not because it’s that swollen. Still hurts though.

In addition to a wicked limp, you need a relatively hard surface to sit on or stand up from. You end up on the rim of damp sand, wriggling to get comfortable. You try laying on your side, propped up on a bent arm. You try your stomach. You’re about try your back, reaching for one of the kids’ towels to roll up as a pillow when you notice a group playing volleyball.

Must be fun to, like, walk and stuff.

You sigh.

It’s fine. You are lucky enough to be on this trip in the first place, your ticket paid for by all the parents combined (with the agreement you’ll help wrangle the younglings for periods while the moms and dads do adult activities). The ‘job’ is a wildly fair trade since the families only split so far was the pool yesterday.

Is that…is one of the volleyball players waving at you?

You look over your shoulder, but there’s only the rest of your group, splashing and running through the surf. No one is facing you or the game.

As you turn back, starting to raise your hand, you see the golden glow of the player’s hair and think that sure resembles the lifeguard, Steve, from—

The guy waving at you gets hit, hard, by a spiked ball and stumbles back. Some commotion rumbles through the group, but you can’t hear specifics.

Shit, that is definitely Steve, son of Sarah, employee of the pool, jogging toward you. Are your tits covered?

You awkwardly pull yourself upright, shielding your eyes from the partially-overcast, bright sky, and smile.

“Hey,” Steve chirps, “thought that was you.” He is, again, in naught but board shorts and beauty.

“Yup, living the dream.”

He ignores your sarcasm and asks how your ankle feels (“meh”), if it’s messed with your plans so far (“had to bow out of zip lining this morning”), and if he might be welcome to sit with you for a while.

You blink a few times in shock behind dark sunglasses. “Won’t your friends…?”

He shakes his head, hair falling into his face, and drops down to the sand.

“I don’t see why not,” you say after he’s made himself comfortable.

When the littlest girl from your group comes shrieking over, bucket and scoop in her hands, you’re about to apologize for the interruption, but Steve immediately offers to help her build the castle of a lifetime.

He is sure to warn her to be careful around your foot.

This time, when you mouth ‘thank you,’ he sees it and returns another beaming grin.

Alright, perhaps vacation is looking up.

Steve is…very, very good at strategizing the sandcastle. After the first ‘tower’ goes up, the other kids get involved. Before you know it, the parents are all behind you gushing over how good your friend is with them.

"Handsome, too."

"Lots of energy."

"‘Bout your age, isn’t he?"

They aren’t quiet enough to not be heard which is clearly the point once the mother of bucket girl shouts out that Steve should join you all for dinner.

Oh, sweet holy—

“Not sure I wanna dive into your family time, ma’am,” he says politely, encouraging some water be brought up for the moat they’ve just dug.

“Then you should take our lovely girl here out. Show her more of the island.”

You glare daggers at the other woman who just chimed in.

“I can’t walk,” you bite out. “Where am I gonna go?”

Steve clears his throat to get your attention. “They line food trucks over on the west road until late, and…” his lip pinches to the side “…I can carry you.”

One of the dads darkly drawls, “like a fucking princess,” and you hear a sharp slap from his wife in annoyance.

Steve’s gaze remains locked on yours as the parents erupt in obvious innuendo.

“Could be fun,” he admits, only loud enough for you. “How about it? Getting hungry?”

All you manage is a nod before a bucket of water is tossed on Steve, and he chases the culprit down the beach and into the clear blue sea.

You’ll have to wait until the ‘monster’ is vanquished by the ecstatic children jumping to take down the big, strong man you, apparently, have a date with.

[Next Chapter]

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

A/N: Apologies that this isn't the whole dang thing. With how long everything has been taking me to write, I was afraid it wouldn't even be summer anymore, and if there is even a small chance that posting this will light a fire under me to finish, I am willing to try.

[writing-fanics]

strawberry lemonade

Sanji x LuffyOlderSister!Reader

the waiter walked over the table holding the plate of bread, "Hi, welcome to our shitty restaurant where the only thing worse than the ambience is the food." He said annoyed, his hand stuffed into his pockets as he placed the plate of bread onto the table

“My name is Sanji. What can I get for you?” Sanji said, looking at the table his hand in his pockets.

Luffy grabbed the bread plate. "One of everything, please," he said. [Y/n] shook her head, smiling at her always-hungry little brother who could eat a whole buffet and still ask for seconds.

The waiter approached the table with a friendly smile and a suggestion: "May I interest you in one of our signature cocktails to elevate your dining experience?" As he spoke, [Y/n] swiftly and deftly took one of the warm rolls from the basket in the center of the table. Luffy was taken aback and protested with a playful "Hey!" [Y/n] responded by sticking out her tongue, teasingly. She then tore off a piece of the warm, crusty bread and popped it into her mouth, savoring the flavor.

As she looked up, her gaze met the waiter's. Her heart skipped a beat as she noticed his flirtatious smile. "My apologies, madam. I didn't see you there. Would you like to start with an apéritif?" he asked, still smiling at her.

Her face turned bright red. "We have some rare Micqueot vintages in stock," he said, trying to impress her. "Or maybe you'd prefer a glass of Umeshu?" He continued to stare at her, captivated by her beauty.

The moment he flashed a flirtatious smile, her heart raced like a horse galloping on a race track. He leaned towards her and whispered, "You know, something sweet for someone sweet," causing her cheeks to flush with a bright red hue, reminiscent of a freshly picked ripe strawberry. She couldn't explain why she felt so nervous around him all of a sudden, her heart pounding relentlessly against her chest as if it wanted to break free.

He watched her intently, his gaze unwavering as she averted her eyes and looked down. Her cheeks turned a faint shade of pink as she fiddled with the gold Roger coin around her neck, a precious keepsake that Shanks had given her and Luffy when they were children.

He smiled at her and she looked up for a moment, smiling sheepishly as they locked eyes. Usopp clears his throat and says, "Waiter, can I get a beer and something for my friends?" He tells the waiter ordering the drinks, "Two beers. I usually have three, but…" He said,

"Water." Nami said looking at him.

„And a milk." Luffy interrupted, "Three beers and a milk. a water. And, uh, for madam?" Sanji asked, his gaze once again falling on [Y/n] looked up at him and blushed, "U-Um, I would strawberry lemonade and a cup of strawberries," she said, her voice tinged with a hint of shyness. He smiled at her and said, "Right away." just as he left to walk towards the kitchen.

[Y/n] hid her face in her shirt while the other crew members chuckled, Luffy looked towards his older sister playfully. "Y/n's gotta boyfriend," He teasingly said to her. "S-Shut up!" She whispered shouted, elbowing him in the arm before, as the Sanji brought out her drinks. He smiled, at her as he placed the strawberry lemonade in front of her, along with the side of strawberries. Sending her a wink as he did so, her heart almost seemed to stop and her soul could've left her body.

"Y/n's gotta boy-" [Y/n] grabbed some meat on a stick, and shoved it into her brother's mouth silencing him.