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xtangerinefilmx · 1 month ago

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a drink

summary: a patrol shift with Joel ends a lot better than you could hope for

pairing: joel miller x fem!reader

word count: 1.3k

warnings: cursing

The snow crunched under your boots and you could see your breath puff out in front of you. The Wyoming winter chilling you to the bone despite all of your layers. As pretty as all the snow and quiet in the woods was, your favorite part of the patrol was being paired up with Joel Miller. Resident Grump of Jackson. At least that’s how you saw him. Everyone else stayed clear of him… besides a good chunk of women after they’d had a few at the Tipsy Bison.

Others were scared of Joel. You… you wanted him. There was over two decades between the two of you, a dark past clouding him, and you still couldn’t kick the feeling of butterflies any time you saw the man. The worst part was that you’d barely spoken in the months he showed up back in Jackson with his daughter/not daughter. Joel wasn’t much of a talker in general, outside of his family. You’d be embarrassed to admit that you’d try to walk by their table in the dining hall just to hear his voice. To put it short you were down bad in the most humiliating way. Even if nobody else knew. Or at least you hope nobody did. It was rare the two of you were alone anyways. You’d take the silent companionship found out on patrol, taking in beautiful sceneries like the one in front of you: Joel riding through the peaceful forest on horseback in front of you.

“We can stop up ahead before we head back for today,” Joel’s gruff voice said, his head slightly turning back to you. You only hummed in response.

A few moments later Joel stopped his horse in a small clearing, a shed covered in snow stood in the treeline. Joel hopped off his horse and moved towards it, going to retrieve the log book to record your patrol. Usually you’d stay on your horse to wait for Joel to finish, but this time you hopped off and followed behind him.

“No need to get off your horse, darlin’. I’ll be done in a minute,” Joel said.

“I just wanted to see the view, I haven’t done this route since the snow started sticking,” you explained, moving past him to look down the hill behind the shed. The ravine was a pretty sight in the winter, but in reality you knew you were just stalling for more time with Joel.

“Five minutes, then we need to head back before it gets dark,” he sighed, much to your surprise. You’d expected more grumbling before he allowed you to indulge in the view.

You stayed there to soak it in for a moment, listening to the scratch of him writing your names in the logbook before turning back towards him. There were a few flecks of snow stuck in his greying hair, now quite a bit longer than when you’d met him. Still just as hot.

“You keep staring long enough you’re going to bore holes into my face, babydoll,” Joel said, obviously trying to hold back a chuckle at your expense as he closed the logbook. Okay, so maybe you were more obvious than you’d previously thought.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, turning your face to hide the blush creeping across your face.

“Don’t be,” he said, putting away the logbook as you started to move back to the horse. Trying your hardest not to seem embarrassed. “It’s not like I haven’t done my fair share of staring at you.”

That got you to stop in your tracks, only furthering your embarrassment at how eager you became after hearing that. You didn’t say anything, but you heard him approaching slowly behind you.

“Couldn’t stop after my jackass of a brother pointed out that a certain someone had a little crush on me,” his voice was quieter now, coming closer. You stayed still, fearing if you moved a muscle you’d wake from a dream. Or you could be in shock. You weren’t sure yet. “Didn’t believe him, but then I kept catching you in the dining hall. You’re not very subtle.”

“Hmm, maybe I was just waiting for you to notice. Was worried your eyesight was already going bad, old man. Thought you’d pick up on the 20 something year old giving you googly eyes quicker,” you joked, finally able to form words as you felt the heat of him at your back. This was definitely not how you thought your little detour would go, but you were determined to see whatever was going on through.

Joel was silent for a moment before you felt his hands on your shoulders and him moving you to face him. “Well, now that I’ve noticed, will you actually stop to talk to me when you see me? Or are you going to keep sneaking glances like I’m the last cookie?”

You took a moment to respond, to entranced by finally getting to see his face up close and personal. All the finer details of the face you were so fond of; his crow’s feet, the grey in his facial hair, the scars. If you were braver you’d reach out to touch him.

“Where’d you go in that pretty head of yours?” Joel asked, and you could see how smug he was about the effect he had on you. You replayed moments in your head where your paths had crossed, wondering when Tommy had made his brother aware of your infatuation with him. If Joel had seen how you’d gone soft at the way he’d keep Ellie under his arm during community bonfires, or if he’d seen the way you blushed when he’d help you onto your horse for patrol. Each moment building up his courage to call you on it.

“I think I have a better idea, you should take me for a drink at the Tipsy Bison. Then, I’ll get to stare at you all I want,” you blurted out. He already knew about your crush, so you didn’t have much to lose at this point. That caused him to actually laugh, a sound you hadn’t heard yet. You wanted to keep making him make that noise.

“I think I like that idea, but are you sure you wanna be seen with an old man like me?” Joel tried to make it seem like he was joking, but you could see the slight shift in his eyes. He was self conscious about the age difference.

“I’d like to see someone try to say something,” you said. You were a grown adult, and there was nobody in Jackson who could tell you what you could and couldn’t do when it came to this man. Not when he was looking at you with the softest eyes, cheeks brushed with pink from the cold. You wanted to… to kiss him.

So you did.

You lifted yourself up onto your toes and quickly pressed your lips against his cold cheek. An urge from deep inside pushing you to give the man reassurance. You could smell leather and soap on him, a little sweat. You wanted more already.

When you pulled back you chanced a look up at his reaction. It took a moment for him to process, but you were rewarded with a gentle smile and a shine in his eyes.

“We should get back around 3, how about we clean ourselves up and I’ll come to yours around 7 and we can walk there together?” Joel suggests. Already moving you both back towards your horses.

“Sounds good, old man,” you teased. “Now, how about we race back and try to get to those drinks a little faster.” You tried to beat him getting onto your horse, but as soon as the man heard the word race he was already swinging himself up onto his.

“That’s not fair!” You called after him as he took off ahead of you.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have called me an old man, honey,” Joel laughed over his shoulder. “Loser has to get the drinks.”

You couldn’t wipe the cheesy grin on your face the whole way back to Jackson, looking forward to a drink or two with Joel Miller.

a/n: I'll be adding more parts to this one shot to make it a little series, need some winter fluff in my life. written at work and not beated, so yell at me if there's any issues with the fic <3

#m's writing #ao3 #ao3 fic #my fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel the last of us #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #reader insert #fem reader #tlou fanfiction #Joel tlou #tlou au

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raspalace · 15 days ago

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Ra’s Palace

Hello, this is my very first story and I’m excited to share it with you all. I have had a lot of inspiration from past TF writers and current ones. I would like to say thank you to @bizzhideaway and two of my friends for helping me with this story. I hope y’all enjoy! :)

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It was the night of Halloween and as a 21 year old grad student, I was looking forward to having a night to escape from the stress; a simple night. When I came to the party, I noticed the amount of individuals participating in black face and immediately felt uncomfortable; without hearing a single excuse or plea, I left to explore the town.

Since moving to this university for grad school, I haven’t had time to see what this town was like or the history of it. While in my thoughts, I precariously walked to an area of the abandoned downtown. It wasn’t until lightning struck and rain started to pour that I noticed the door to an abandoned rundown hotel was opened and I decided to go in to escape the harsh weather. The lobby had an eerie aura to it with furniture that was covered in cobwebs and the floor was white from the collection of dust. How long has this place been here? I wondered and walked over to the check in desk that was also a bar, checking the rusted logbook and seeing that the last check in was 50 years ago.

I closed the book and went to explore the lobby some more, finding a picture of the hotel’s owner. It was a handsome Arabic male that went by the name Rasheem Ahmir. I pulled out my phone to see if I could look the man up but my phone lacked reception. I looked up at the picture once more and chuckled a bit, “I wish I could learn about you and what caused your hotel to end.” Lightning struck and a roar of thunder followed, causing me to look back at the entry doors before I turned back to the photo and saw that the man was no longer there.

“What the hell?” I asked aloud and started to head over to the picture until the doors to another room flew open and banged against the walls. I knew that I should have left then and there, but something was telling me to investigate and so, I cautiously walked to the doors and saw that it led into a theater room. As soon as I walked in, the doors quickly shut and the screen began counting down from three to one. I grabbed a seat in the front row in the center and was surprised at how comfortable the seats were even though they were old.

The video began and explained how Rasheem grew up in the Middle East as a child before moving to the states in hopes for a new beginning in the American Dream. Unfortunately, he was met with racism and anguish towards him and his community, but that didn’t stop him from working hard and eventually opening up his own hotel, Rasheem’s Caravanserai. A place where people of all likes can rest and network with each other to expand their businesses. Rasheem started a family with his African wife and their son and their community was growing and prospering as the buildings on the block being used for businesses from cultures around the world, but the video suddenly cuts to the hotel and other buildings being on fire with no police or firefighters in sight to help the civilians or put out the fire; the video ends.

I wiped a tear from my eye and clapped in the empty theater. “I’m sorry for your loss, Mr. Ahmir but you created a welcoming community and I applaud you for that. I wish I could see what this block was like in action. If I could avenge your sacrifice and death, I would.” I spoke, thinking there wouldn’t be a response, but I thought wrong as a question popped onto the screen.

‘Is that so?’ It said as the screen began to flicker.

“Uh…yea, I understand being in a community that prospers, but ends in despair.” I responded and looked around the room to see if there was a person or spirit but there was no one. The screen turned off and the room was dark; I would be lying if I said I wasn’t scared. Moments sitting in a dark unfamiliar room peaked my anxiety as I began to hyperventilate in the chair with my legs numb.

The screen flashed on and I noticed that I was naked in the chair which caused an immediate panic, trying to force myself out of the chair but my body wasn’t listening to my commands. A spinning spiral appeared and my eyes fixed on to it as a thick musk smell flooded in through the vents.

You are being made anew. Relax and breathe.

Getting out of a panic attack would usually take me hours but I found my heartbeat slowed to a normal pace as I took deep breaths, inhaling more of the smelly air into my system. Moans began playing off of the speakers as the spiral continued and I blushed, feeling myself feel aroused and my pussy becoming wet.

“Fuck..” I spoke lowly as my body began grinding my pussy against the fabric in the chair, my juices soaking it. The musk in the air became thick and I tried to cover my nose from the pungent smell but I still couldn’t move on my own.

You are a man.

I raised an eyebrow at the next prompt and let out a soft laugh. “I’m not a man, I couldn’t imagine being one.” With the spiral still present, the screen showed videos of Arabian men working or playing sports while shirtless. Their muscular build covered in body hair, their sharp faces, and pronounced bulges added to my arousal as I felt a hand play with my clit and the lips to my leaking pussy. I moaned loudly as my eyes were transfixed on the screen and my mind fogged from arousal and the thick smell.

You are a man.

You have always been a man.

You spend a lot of time around other men.

I knew that I should be protesting against the suggestions, but memories of using male pronouns and others referring to me as a male flooded my mind. My small, delicate feet grew from size 6 in women’s to size 10 ½ in men’s, the once soft skin becoming calloused from days running. My thighs and calves spasmed as they grew in muscle and fat from the heavy deadlifting in the gym.

A pair of cold hands groped my breasts and teased my nipples as my breasts grew busty before forming into thick bouncy pectorals with sensitive nipples to compliment them as my shoulders broadened to help support the new weight and my back stretched causing my height to change from 5’3” to 5’10”. My stomach grew hot as defined cum gutters appeared in a six pack and my curves softened into a more defined silhouette, my hips narrowing and my waist tightening.

My arms and hands were next as muscles protruded underneath my skin; biceps and triceps growing big as footballs and my hands became larger with thicker calloused fingers, my nicely trimmed fingernails became rugged and chipped. My pussy leaking like a faucet from the new set of muscles and strength. My neck became thick with an expanding vocal cord as my moans cracked in pitch before it stayed at a baritone range. My hair shortened into a buzz cut as bones in my face cracked and shifted, developing sharper cheekbones and a more angular face yet I could grow more plump than before. ‘But what for-’

My thought was cut off as a hand rammed into my pussy and I groaned loudly as my ovaries were slowly pulled out of me, thick wet testicles now hanging between my legs. I squirmed in the seat as my clitoris adjusted its position and grew to an average 5 inches. The groping, wandering hands let go of my body as I panted heavily and looked down at my new body.

“Th-this can’t be happening!” I yell in shock before my eyes were pulled back to the screen.

This is your body. This has always been your body.

As foggy as my mind was, a pain struck and memories of going out dress shopping and getting periods were replaced with wearing suits and spending time in the gym. With a shake of my mind, I am convinced that I’ve always been a man and have known no other life.

You are your mother and father’s son.

‘Mother and father’ I think to myself as my mind couldn’t pull an image for them while my skin tone shifted subtly, taking on a lighter tone with a rich golden undertone and my eyes lightened to a soft blue. My jawline became more defined as my cheekbones elevated, freckles painted my face as tight curls grew from my scalp. My ass became thick with fat, a gift from my mother, which caused the seat to groan and dent inwards. Dark body hair covered my torso, legs, arms and pits while lightly dusting my arms and ass.

You are your father’s BOY.

This is your HOME.

‘Boy’ rang through my mind as I continued to think of my parents and images of Rasheem and his wife – no, my mother, Nakia. Memories of living in the hotel as my father worked endlessly and my mother entertained guests with her voice and song. With every memory, the hotel became alive with a clean atmosphere and lively architecture and lightning. The screen became modern and the seats became reclining armchairs; my chair reclined with my legs lifted as the theater lights dimly lit. Unfortunately, my mother died and I took on more responsibility when I was 21– wait.

“I am 21, what do I mean when I was?” I asked as I snapped out of the fog and noticed that my body was covered in a maroon suit that tightly sculpted my muscles and juicy ass; the sight caused my dick to rise.

You are my boy, my good old boy.

The words were not only popping on the screen but along with the moans, the speakers announced the words in my father’s deep voice. ‘Boy’. Once again it bounced through my mind as I thought hard to understand why.

You are DUMB.

I felt a sharp pain in my temple. I still wanted to help this ghost, my father but I didn’t want to be an airhead. “I’m not dumb I’m graduating from graduate school next week!”

You are DUMB. No university, no education outside from mother and I

You enjoy WORKING OUT

You enjoy SEX

SIMPLE LIFE.

Be a good OLD DUMB BOY.

With the freedom to move my hands and arms, I gripped my head. I had always prided myself on my sharp mind, quick wit, and deep understanding of complex topics. Yet, those qualities began to vanish as a deep fog clouded my mind once more. My once-vibrant thoughts were dulled by the heaviness that settled in and my ability to analyze and process information faded and my speech became simpler and fragmented, enjoying simplicity over deep discussion. I let out a low guffaw as my lips parted to forever stay open and eyes dulled. Recollection of sports trophies and barely understanding the teachings from my father and mother replaced academic awards and groundbreaking seminars. My ambitions to become a world shattering businessman dwindled to staying in my hometown and reopening the hotel, working out and fucking in my free time; I might even try to fuck while working. I was the owner of the hotel after all.

With this acceptance, a rush of tingling coursed through my body as my smooth skin gradually developed fine lines, crow’s feet forming at the corners of my eyes. My vibrant complexion gave way to a more weathered texture as my jawline grew stronger yet softer with age as a luscious beard covered them and my hairline receded. My posture shifted as my back straightened from experience and wisdom yet my muscles grew in size and definition, instead of sagging, gasping for freedom against my clothes; my skin grew thicker as veins stood out more prominently on my hands and arms. My body hair grew wild and thick, dusting a salt and pepper color.

I wasn’t currently 21 aiming for a degree in business, I was 43 reopening the hotel from the insurance money that my parents saved and some of my life savings as well.

That’s my good BOY.

It finally hit me. When my mother passed while I was 21, I took on responsibilities that were my mother’s then some more. My father introduced a brothel as part of the hotel and it was mine to oversee. It was there that I flourished. It was there I became my father’s Baba’s boy. My dick grew to full mast while leaking precum into my trousers. Memories of Baba teaching me how to suck, fuck and be fucked as I became everyone’s first choice when they came to the brothel and I pleasured them all, some lasting a few minutes, others lasting hours. I palmed my erection while grinding my ass against the seat as my hole loosened from years of pounding.

You are now the man of the Ahmir family. You have the power to CHANGE others.

I groaned loudly as I arched my back from my throbbing dick pressed against the crotch of my trousers before I pulled it out. The screen played videos of group sex of men and women and I stroked my dick roughly, it grew to a girthy 11 inch and my balls hung low, becoming the size of oranges; thick bushy hair covered my balls and the base of my dick. A wave of electricity ran through my veins and a new sense of undiscovered power overwhelmed me.

The spiral quickened and the moans from the video grew louder.

You are DUMB.

Drool pours from the corner of my lips. My mind free from stress and real responsibility.

You like SEX.

Fucking men and women alike brought me pure pleasure. I wore only jockstraps as underwear.

You WORK OUT.

I had to stay in the gym to keep my body strong.

You are AFRO-ARAB.

Teachings from my parents about the similarities and differences of their cultures brought a deep connection and pride to my race and ethnicity, gaining knowledge of Arabic and Swahili languages while my English diminished to the basics and my American accent swept away with a guttural one.

You are RAFI AHMIR.

Ropes of cum decorated my suit and the chair as I let out a deep moan, panting from the best jerk off I’ve had in awhile. I chuckled to myself as I stood up and new foreskin grew from the shaft, the extra skin covering the head of my dick as it started to soften before placing it into my cum soaked jockstrap before cleaning myself up. I left the theater to find the hotel vibrant with up to date furniture and a mix of African and Arabic architecture, the thick musk scent filled the hotel yet I was used to it. I went behind the check in desk and bar and looked at the old logbook, waiting for the first guest victim to walk through the doors.

The bell rang as the door opened and I smiled.

“Welcome to Ra’s Palace!”

#male transformation #bearification #arab tf #dumbing down #straight to bi #raspalace #hypnosis #male age progression

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laughtalelogs · 2 months ago

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❄snow angel - sanji x reader❄

❄ day 1 - first snow, getting soaked, “your hands are so cold” ❄ fandom/character(s) - one piece - sanji x reader ❄ warnings - fluff, no beta reader, use of terms like “princess” otherwise mostly gender neutral, no ending ❄ word count: 2.4k

this is the first day of the @12daysofchristmas challenge. this rushed asf and not edited. sorry no ending lmao, i had an ending in mind but If i stared at this any longer i was gonna bang my head against my keyboard :) tomorrow's zoro, so stay tuned! check out here to read more

The Sunny rocked in the gentle evening breeze, the sun retreated behind the horizon. Purple and orange hues stretched across the galley. A book laid heavy in your lap as you relaxed with the remnants of the crew after dinner. You had means to finish a chapter before you wound down. But, the rare, sweet peace made your body feel like lead. The soothing song of clinking dishes, muffled snoring, and soft scribbling filled the space with a cozy air. Since you joined the merry-band of pirates, you quickly learned that times of silence were few and far between. You wouldn’t dare disturb it.

Nami hunched over her logbook next to you, charting a map with fervor. On the other side, Luffy rested on your shoulder. Food crumbs were scattered across his drooling mouth as he slept. Across the way, Sanji hummed a soft tune as he flitted around the room. The song pulled you in and with each note, you found yourself lost in thought, rereading the same words over again.

From the corner of your eye, you felt the cook’s lingering gaze on you. Not that it bothered you; it gave you another reason to abandon your book. You both were playing a silent game 一 a game you had been playing for weeks. A game he was failing miserably at.

Your eyes lock again for a moment, the darkened cerulean meeting yours with uncertain curiosity.

You raised a playful brow, letting your eyes wander. His neck and jaw tightened, a splatter of red rising to his ears as his adam’s apple wavered in his throat. His tune faltered, and he quickly glanced away, fumbling with the cutlery he had in hand. You feel a chill run down your spine, trying to quell the trail of goosebumps on your arm.

Nami let out a groan, looking at the porthole behind you. The wind rattled against the glass, and Luffy stirred, pressing closer to you for warmth.

"We're getting close to a winter island,” she announced, tapping her pen to the journal. "Expect snow in the morning."

“Snow?” you felt your heart flip in your chest, excitement rising in your voice. “Like a lot of it?”

“...That’s right,” Nami smiled, pushing her glasses up the brim of her nose. “Should’ve remembered snow isn’t common for you.”

“Does frosted grass count?” you offer sheepishly.

Sanji chuckle grabbed your attention as he approached with a folded blanket tucked beneath his arm.

“Here, you’ll be needing this, then,” He hands the soft fleece to you and you reach out, gentle fingers brushing yours. It was a quick, unassuming exchange. You stare at the crisp white linen of his shirt ruffled at the cuff, straining under his toned arm.

“I would hate to see you catch a chill,” He looks up at the ceiling, avoiding your eyes. He cleared his throat and whipped around, busying himself again. You mumble a weak ‘thank you’, ignoring how your fingers still burn from the feathered touch. You shimmy the warm fleece over you and Luffy’s shoulder. It smelled like smoked tobacco and vanilla extract, and you pushed the urge down to bury your nose in the fabric.

He turned to an unimpressed Nami. “Guessing soup or stew for tomorrow?”

“Soup?” Your insatiable Captain groans in his sleep, a dazed smile playing on his drooling lips.

Nami scoffed, rolling her eyes. A pen flies through the air and hits Luffy square between the eyes.

“Ow..! What was that for?” He croaked blearily, rubbing his head.

“All you ever think about is food, I bet you were dreaming about it too.” She chides, closing her journal with a soft thud, collecting her things. “Come on, time for bed. Tell the others about the snow.”

“It’s snowing?!” Luffy boomed, soaring up, wide-eyed with joy. The blanket fell off your once-taken shoulder.

“Not now, later.” Nami re-iterated with annoyance. “Come on,”

“Night, you two,” “G’Night guys!”

And with that, the galleyway soon was draped in another tranquil silence. With how cold the temperature was dropping, you wouldn’t have been surprised if it was snowing right now. You pull the blanket towards you closer, brain racing with the promises of a new experience tomorrow. You had joined the straw hats out of desperation for adventure, to see the world for more than what your tropical island could offer. Now, it felt like it was finally paying off.

“Excited?” Sanji’s voice jerked you out of your thoughts. You look up, watching him polish spoons like second nature, blonde hair falling like golden silk in front of his eyes.

“Uh- yeah, ” You mumbled into the fleece, burying yourself further. “I guess you say that,”

“Come on,” He throws the towel over his shoulder, voice low and teasing, “ indulge me, sweetheart.”

Ignoring the way your stomach flips at the deep rumble of his voice, you give in.

“I dunno, it’s just,” You admit, shifting in your seat, “There’s only so much reading you can do before you wonder what it would be, ya’know?” You stare down at the forgotten book, closing it and placing it on the table.

“I think I get what you mean,” The tenderness in his voice caught you off guard as he continued. “-beauty like that you can only witness in person, no words would do it justice,” When you meet his kind gaze again, your mind goes blank, and you have to remember how to breathe.

“S-so true,” You cleared your throat, mouth impossibly dry. “Well, u-uh, let me get ready for bed, I want to be the first one up!” You jumped up, the blanket forgotten on the bench as the pen in your lap clattered to the ground. You scuttled quickly out the galley way with a rushed ‘good night!’, leaving Sanji as the last one standing.

Sanji blinked, and sighed, staring at the door where you had left. His shoulders drooped low at the brief, sweet moment. He fished in his pocket for a cigarette, shaking his head. He lit the cigarette and watched hot smoke curl in the cool air. He lets his mind wander to the promise of tomorrow, the promise of seeing you again.

“Goodnight, Princess.” He murmured out to the empty room.

That chilly night you tossed and turned. Even as your body thrummed with hot adrenaline, you shivered. As much as you tried to bundle yourself deeper into your blankets, the cold seeped into your bones. Your nose and cheeks burned from the chill. You stared out the porthole, watching the clear black of night until you drifted off to sleep.

You wake up with a start. Bright white light shines in, and you look over at the others, who are still fast asleep. Nami’s soft snores and Robin’s even breathing are muffled by their blankets. You slowly peel the covers away, hissing at the cold that bites your skin. Excited breaths plume in the air like smoke, as you tip-toe slowly out the room. Opening the door, the sight blows you away, air escaping your lungs. You didn’t think it would be this magnificent. Soft snow covered the tops of everything in a thick layer of bright white made you squint. The rising sun shot gorgeous rays of yellow across the falling snow, sparkling in the morning light.

An icy blast of cool wet air brushes past your legs and feet, and you quickly shut the door to not disturb the women sleeping. Your barren feet take their first steps onto the deck, and you barely can contain your excitement with each skip you take down towards mens quarters, you couldn’t be the only person to witness this. Thinking back to your conversation with Sanji last night, heat fills your body even as your toes begin to turn numb.

Fresh footprints lead you to the door, and you quickly slip inside. enveloped in a loud chorus of groans and snores. You scan the room as your feet heat up on the solid wood. You tiptoed over Zoro and Chopper who huddled for warmth. Past Usopp and Luffy’s hammock, you looked for a tuft of blonde hair with no luck. You cursed under your breath. He must be up already, you thought. You turn behind, looking at your sleeping Captain.

Guess he would do. You poke at his cheek softly.

“Pstt.. Luffy..” He groaned, swatting your finger away and turned over. You shake him this time, watching his head jostle around. “wake up, it's snowing, come o-”

“SNOW?!” His eyes shoot open, screaming at the top of his lungs. The rest of the cabin jumped up with a bewildered confusion. Before you could apologize, Luffy was grabbing Usopp by the nose and you by the wrist, pulling you out onto the deck.

You screamed as you skipped around the deck. The snow crunched under your feet, the frigid air biting your exposed skin as soaked in the new sensation. You squeal as you flounce around,the fresh snow upturned by each step.

Sanji watched from the doorway curiously, and he couldn’t help the cheesy smile stretching his face. God, you were gorgeous like this, He thought. He watched you play in the snow with wonderment, Luffy and Usopp’s cheers muffled in the background. How could he deny himself with the pleasure of watching you? You were like a dream, something he was convinced he conjured in his brain to torture himself with.

All night, he was awake, picturing your first moments in the winter, how you would glow against the snow. How the snowflakes would fall on your eyelashes, begging him to swipe them away. He imagined would be able to provide you with warmth after a day of reliving your childhood anyway you needed him to, if you willed it. These thoughts plagued him well into the night, till the sun threatened to peek over the horizon as he watched out the port hole as it began to fog over with frost, too late into the morning to fall asleep. He rubbed his tired eyes, the sight of you absolutely vibrant with joy fueling his exhausted and needy heart.

Even with his answered prayers, he couldn’t help but worry about your lack of clothes. Where the hell were your coat and shoes? He worried on his bottom lip, glancing at the ice bitten soles of your feet, trying to keep his eyes away from the way your shirt rode up with every leap forward.

Had he been careless? He felt responsible for your lack of winter preparedness. His brows furled in worry as he watched you slip onto your back.

His stomach dropped. He vaulted over the railing, dress shoes sinking into the frigid snow. With each determined flounce towards you, his socks became sodden with cold water.

“You alright, gorgeous? Where’s your coat and shoes?” He flits above you nervously, his shallow breaths fogging in the crisp winter air.

“You’ll freeze solid in this weathe-” He was cut off by your floaty laughter, his heart seized and banged rapidly against his ribs.

“This is so much fun,” You laughed, arms outstretched as you made snow angels below him, beaming with happiness. “Join me Sanji!”

His brain was short-circuiting as he stood there with his mouth agape. Everything in his body wanted to get him into the snow next to you, to bury his hands into your side and roll around in the fluff, but looking at your bright red palms made him stop.

“No, We need to get ready first, up you go,” He holds out a hand, and you whine in protest, but begrudgingly take his hand. He hisses at the soft cold hand, clasping it gently as he pulls you up.

“Your hands are so cold...” He murmured. Without thought, he rubs your fingers softly in his hand, his curly eyebrows furrowing. A chill runs through your spine, but you feel like you're sweating at the soft touch.

He slowly brings life back into your fingers as you stare in silence.His other hand catches yours and he cupped them gently, bringing them to his chapped, pink lips. They form into a soft ‘o’ as he exhales balmy, heavy breaths into your trembling fingers. Even with the winter that surrounded you, you were going to melt into the deck of the Sunny if he continued. You squeeze your eyes shut and look away. It was all too much.

You squirm under the touch, but don’t pull away. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Yes I do,” He shakes his head, cheeks dusting pink, “Wouldn’t want any of these pretty fingers to freeze and fall off, right?” You don’t respond, staring at your feet. He always had a way with words that left you speechless. His gaze follows your, smacking his teeth.

“You’re killing me,” He sighed, before dropping your hands, “Up you go,” With a swift movement, your frozen feet are swept off the ground. You let out a small noise of protest, but quickly wrapped your arms around his neck.

“But the others-”

“-Are complete idiots. You can come back out here later when you have appropriate winter clothes.” He made quick, determined strides towards the galley door swinging it open. Sweltering heat embraced you as he placed you on the bench, the smell of tomato and garlic wafting in the air.

“Let's warm up and dry off first. I’ll make you hot chocolate, too.” He rambled, clasping his hands together as he scanned the room, “Or would you rather have cider? You think on that, I’ll be back in one minute, my little snow angel.”

As quick as he leaves, he’s back again, shutting the frigid air out. “I brought a towel, a change of clothes, and a spare coat. Nami picked them out, don’t worry, I didn’t want-”

“Someone’s mothering me right now,” You finally cut him off.

You watch his windburned face twist in embarrassment. “Someone has to, don't they?”

“And that someone should be you?” You tease with no bite in your words, but shift uncomfortably in your seat. The more you warmed up, the more you were hyperaware how your soaked t-shirt clung to your back, dripping onto your legs.

You weren’t the only one who had notice, when a towel was shoved quickly in front of your face. Sanji’s eyes glued to the ceiling. You take it, wiping and patting yourself dry from the melted snow.

what a weird way to end a fic ik i suck for it, but I got pretty uninspired there at the end. I have so many ideas but I suck at the romance sometimes. I used to rp a lot eons ago when I was a teenager and am just really trying to gain confidence in my writing again after that trauma, iykyk LMAO

I dunno if i’ll come back to edit this or finish my idea. Let me know if you liked it though!

wanna read more? check out my other fics (x)

#one piece #vinsmoke sanji #sanji x reader #black leg sanji #vinsmoke sanji x reader #12daysofchristmas2024 #sanji fluff #sanji x y/n #sanji x you #sanji reader insert #lynn writes #lynn-writes

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victormalonso · 2 years ago

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ARAÑA NEGRA DE MIS NOCHES (VIII) un diario de sueños

en el vacío nocturno, en la noche sin final, el pensamiento te arrastra adonde la luna te añore. cavo tu hoyo de silencio en la imaginación del limbo, el cósmico fluir que nace al mundo: el negro resplandor de la nostalgia; a tu cabello oscuro lo mueve el viento, y la noche y la sal llenan el ámbito marino con el oleaje sexual de amarte. decir noche es decir tu nombre: te amo, aun desde el ruido fiero del oleaje, aun desde esta soledad.

BLACK SPIDER OF MY NIGHTS (VIII) a logbook of dreams

In the nocturnal void, in the night without end, the thought drags you to where the moon yearns for you. I dig your hole of silence in the imagination of limbo, the cosmic flow that gives born to the world: the black glow of nostalgia; your dark hair is moved by the wind, and the night and the salt fill the marine environment with the sexual waves of loving you. to say night is to say your name: I love you, even from the fierce noise of the waves, even from this solitude.

#photographers on tumblr #poets on tumblr #víctor m. alonso #vimalsu999 #isla negra #araña negra de mis noches #logbook of dreams #diario de sueños #mispoemas #Mis Poemas #black spider of my nights #poema de amor #amor #love poem #love #poema de amor a mi manera

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chloesimaginationthings · 10 months ago

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Why was Nightmare Foxy in the closet in FNAF 4,,,

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bunnyinfoxclothing · 6 months ago

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Obedient Exorcists Part 3

Part 1 | Part 2 | (you are here) | It will arrive

If you thought it was angsty before. Hahahaha

---------

She had hoped that if she reached the hotel before Charlie, she could get all the weapons setting inside, send the Carmine workers on their way, then find a way to hide her wings.

Truth be told. In the deep folds of her brain, she had known hiding her wings wouldn't be possible. And even deeper still, she was prepared to take her spear to them.

She wasn't living with Charlie anymore anyway. She had hidden being an angel for years. She could hide a back injury for a few weeks.

But the two women arrived at the same time. And Vaggie stood there unsure how to proceed.

She had written thousands of apologies notes during her time alone. None of them were good enough. She wasn't good enough. Charlie probably couldn't even look at her.

Vaggie was prepared to say an apology. A simple sorry. Something that Charlie had preached since the beginning of the hotel. Then she would take care of the Carmines and leave Charlie to settle in the cannibals.

Then Charlie pulls out the shrunken head.

And everything changes.

It's a perfect mix of the two of them. The red circle cheeks. The purple skin. The permanent smile. The red bow.

It was what Vaggie imagined their children would look like. Except less shrunken, sewn, and hopefully dead. (if it so much as twitched Vaggie doesn't think she will ever sleep again.)

Vaggie finds herself tucked into Charlie arms and everything feels fine again. They walk into the hotel and their friends haven't let them. Vaggie packs away the weapons and shakes hands with Carmilla's girls with a promise that she will return again. Then returns to help Charlie check in the cannibals.

The lobby is alight in so much activity it is blinding. There are so many people talking and enjoying the hotel. Husk has brought out his bartending moves and began mixing drinks like a true entertainer. Angel not far behind, with his flirting with husk, becoming a bit of a show for onlookers.

Nifty zipped through the crowd ensuring she was the only tripping hazard around. Even Alastor seemed to be enjoying the space, talking with his overlord friend.

And Charlie.

Charlie had stars in her eyes. Wetness peaking just at the corners. And the biggest smile that Vaggie had ever seen. (bigger than anything she had been able to produce)

Vaggie knew why.

She could see it.

This was Charlies dream. A hotel so full of people all of them united, and not trying to kill each other. It wasn't far off from her dream of redeeming mass amounts of sinners. This was a sneak peak into Charlie's dream. Fully realized.

Fully accomplished.

And she had done it on her own.

Charlie brought the cannibals.

Charlie wanted Alastor, and got Husk and Nifty as an addition.

Charlie wanted Angel and Sir Pentious.

Charlie had made all of this possible for herself.

Vaggie brought weapons.

Vaggie brought violence and bloodshed and the death of thousands who could have been saved.

Charlie retires before Vaggie, going to her room, getting some rest. Offering Vaggie only a smile from across the room as she heads upstairs.

Vaggie, not having been invited, stays.

While checking in cannibals, Charlie had never asked her to return the room key. Nobody was logged into the logbook for that room, not even her. And yet there wasn't a single question.

So, when everything is over and everyone has gone to bed, she heads to her own room.

Suddenly, nothing is fixed. The keychain in her pocket. The item representing her and Charlie's relationship feels like a noose. A message signed with the picture of a guillotine.

Vaggie can only empty her stomach.

She washes up and with a pain in her heart and gut, she goes to bed.

When she wakes up, she decides it's best to take a flight. She hopes a stretch will help sooth the pain that had come from sleeping on her back.

Her wings are weak. They barely get her to the roof before her lungs are puffing with exhaustion.

It's quiet on the roof.

Just like it always has been.

It's nothing like flying. It's nothing like heaven. It's nothing like anything.

And for Vaggie that's okay.

She enjoys the wind, even if it is humid heat against her face. She enjoys the view. Sinner on sinner crime at the break of dawn. Even though the crime had never ended to begin with.

The blood curdling screams make her wonder, if she screams would anyone hear? She hopes no. She could find herself a nice alleyway and scream her head off. Curse herself for every having existed. For ever falling in someones way.

For ever tainting Charlie's dreams with her face. For ever tainting heaven with her creation. She was proof that not everyone can be forgiven. Not everyone is worth redemption. She was proof that God made mistakes. That not all of his creations were loved.

She was the flaw in every plan.

Charlie finds her on the roof and all thoughts stop.

"How long have you been up here? You never came to bed... at least I don't think you did... did you? i'm sorry."

Vaggie is left reeling. What could Charlie ever have to apologize for? Did she miss something? Did Charlie want her to come to her room? Did Charlie want to talk to her about something? Did Vaggie accidentally ignore her?

Vaggie considers how to respond. How to tell Charlie she didn't know she was allowed to see Charlie again.

But Charlie is already onto a different topic. She talks about how great it is to have so many bodies in the hotel. She talks about the Carmine weapons, and the overlords kindness.

She talks about the sky, how nice Hell looks outside. And that's when Vaggie's traitorous mouth finds the words it was looking for ages ago.

"I fell asleep."

Charlie, of course, looks absolutely confused. Then assumes Vaggie meant last night and launches into an entire apology about the cannibals and how impolite it was not to ask anyone if they were comfortable sharing a roof together.

Guilt twists in Vaggie's chest. She had lied to Charlie again. It wasn't on purpose, but she didn't correct her.

Still Vaggie steels herself for tonight, where she assumes she and Charlie will finally talk.

The day goes by with Charlie attempting to see if any of the cannibals would even think about joining them full time. And no she does not mean the staff. All while Vaggie sets about getting everyone their own weapons.

It was nice having a menial task to do. No emotions. Nothing deep to think about. Just logic, and war.

This is what she was built for.

She makes incredible progress, only getting a select few weapons returned with the suggestion to make them special order.

Apparently too many people heard her with the Carmine girls and decided that she would be the perfect 'currier pigeon' for their weapon needs.

She tries not to be offended by the new nicknames.

pigeon

hot wings

feathers

bird brain

They all seemed to revolve around her new appendages.

A part of her missed the lewd renditions of her name Angel used to throw her way.

She gave everyone a quick safety brief on angelic weapons before deciding to end the day early. She would go to the Carmines with the requests in the morning.

Charlie took her by the hand and brought her to her room. A room they once shared.

She felt a bit of warmth seeing her stuff, still in its rightful places. She let a hand caress a few trinkets. Gifts from Charlie from their earlier stages of dating all til...

She reached a hand into her pocket and pulled out the shrunken head from yesterday. It felt wrong to carry it now. So she placed it amongst her collection.

A hand snaked it's way around her waist and she was pulled flush against Charlie.

"I missed you."

"I missed you too."

Charlie continued on. Listing every little aspect of Vaggie she missed. Her scent. Her warmth. Her smile and smirks. Her sarcastic jokes. Her protective aura. Her loving kisses. Her eye that was only ever soft when gazing upon her.

Charlie let herself ramble on and on while holding Vaggie.

Vaggie felt nothing.

Vaggie felt less than nothing.

And that made her feel guilty.

All while Charlie continued to sing her praises, Vaggie could only feel the pressure on her wings, which quickly morphed into irritation the longer Charlie persisted.

She thought to Charlie's last few wishes. To be left alone. To have her sent off to the Carmines.

The look on Charlies face had been so empty. So full of hate that she had been willing to die for the girl in front of her.

Yet, this moment directly contrasted all of that.

Vaggie felt angry.

and that made her feel guilty.

Charlie had saved her life. Charlie had given her a purpose. A reason to live. If Charlie wanted to change the rules and orders she had previously set, then that was fine.

Charlie started slow, taking Vaggie's clothes off piece by piece.

It wasn't sexual, Vaggie knew when Charlie wanted more from a night together, even their gentle nights weren't like this. This was a sensual whisper of 'I missed you'.

This was I want skin on skin contact.

This was the closeness of a baby just after birth. When skin contact was vital for helping regulate temperature, heartbeat, breathing and connection.

This felt like life or death.

But only to Vaggie.

Charlie continued to whisper all the aspects she loved about Vaggie, moving from physical features to personality traits, to weird quirks.

Vaggie felt naked and scared. The words washed over her, but nothing soaked through. Her heart rate increased as she began to panic.

The closeness felt suffocating.

She should tell Charlie to stop. That she wasn't ready for any amount of emotional or physical closeness yet.

But the rules were changing.

Charlie was deciding which rules stuck. What if she no longer wanted Vaggie thoughts or opinions? She had filled the hotel on her own. Vaggie's opinion wasn't worth much anyway.

What if this was a couple clearing of the board? No rules no orders.

When Charlie brought her to bed, she finally seemed to notice the heart hammering against Vaggie's chest.

"Shhhh. It's okay, we're not doing anything tonight. You can relax. Tell me what's wrong."

Vaggie opened her mouth but nothing came out. It was an order. To tell her what was wrong. But did Charlie want the truth? Did she want half truth sounding board Vaggie? Did she want the softened words of girlfriend Vaggie? Did she want the rough uncaring truth of first found Vaggie?

The safest option was to ask.

"What do you want me to say?"

There were a few seconds of silence. Vaggie looked up to see a confused and slightly hurt look on Charlie's face. She had chosen wrong.

"The truth? Always the truth. Please, I can't- don't- don't lie to me again."

Vaggie nodded. Going with the most honest answer she could come up with.

"I don't know."

She doesn't know what's wrong. She doesn't know why she's bad at obeying. She doesn't know what the rules are anymore. She doesn't know what Charlie wants from her. She doesn't know why she feels suffocated in the arms of someone she once never wanted to leave. She doesn't know what's wrong with her.

Charlie sighs. She's disappointed in Vaggie again.

We can talk more about it after the battle.

There's a time limit now. Vaggie can feel it. She used to be so good at being hotel manager. She used to be so good at commanding respect. She used to be so good at being Charlie girlfriend.

Since they visited heaven she has done nothing but fail at all of these.

And now...

her and Charlie are over.

Vaggie doesn't sleep. Vaggie doesn't cry. Vaggie doesn't even think. Vaggie lays there and listens to Charlie quiet snores and lets herself get pulled into tighter snuggles. Vaggie ignores the burning in her back as her wings scream out. Vaggie doesn't do anything.

The arms around her body won't let her.

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indiegame · 4 months ago

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its so nice circling back around to "old" interests

#logbook #between n.bof and g.w2 my heart is full rn<3 being able to play my comfort gamr once more is dream come true #trying so hard to catch up on the story but ir keeps glitching. may skip ahead :(#OH FUCK I FORGOT ABT HOMESTEADS #wait im off to do that but yeah game and anime<3 new season and new expansions god bless

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 1 year ago

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the breakfast

lilac, chapter two

a/n: when my love, @chvoswxtch, asked me to bring the horny energy of miss patty from gilmore girls, of course I fucking did it, I'm not a criminal, that's what we all deserve

summary: “well, hello stranger.”

warnings: lumberjack!frank castle x reader, lumberjack AU, pete castiglione era, past domestic violence, crazy ex trope, slow burn, wholesome villagers being adorable

word count: 2373

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

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The Lilac Inn wasn’t just an inn to the citizens of Dunbrook. It was its beating heart, a hub for the small community to gather.

As the town’s only culinary establishment, the residents had always made a habit of eating a fair amount of their meals in the inn’s dining room, the door to the kitchen often staying wide open so that Harvey wouldn’t have to leave the stove in order to catch all of the juicy small-town gossip that had people blabbering.

“Dad, did you turn off my alarm?” you snapped as soon as your scurrying feet carried you into the bustling kitchen.

Not lifting his eyes from the loaf of bread he was currently slicing, your dad simply countered with a jovial, “well, good morning to you too, sleeping beauty!”

“Dad,” you sighed, jaw clenching at his usual demeanour, the paralysing dream you’d just roused from not setting you up to be in the right mood for such a level of positivity.

“You just looked like you could use the extra hour or two,” a smile still warm on his lips, the middle-aged man defensively raised his hands.

“But I’m supposed to help you out,” your eyes followed his movements as he trotted towards the stove, “I can’t do that if I’m asleep.”

“Exactly,” your dad passed by a hook full of tangled textiles and tossed you an apron, “that’s why I let you go a little longer so that you wouldn’t doze off on me before lunchtime arrives.”

“I wouldn’t have dozed off…” you mumbled pettily as you tied the linen around your waist. Exhaling lowly as you watched him crack two eggs into a sizzling skillet, you asked, “what can I do?”

“Well for starters,” he tossed the shells into a small scrap bowl to his side, “these were the last eggs, so if you could go get some more out by the front desk, that would be superb.”

“Why do you have eggs on the front desk?”

“Because Otto’s chickens are laying a lot right now and so he told me he’d give me some today when he swung by for breakfast.”

“Wait, Sheriff Nilsen has chickens now?”

“Yeah, has for a long time,” the decade of you not living here grew palpable, “he usually just drops the extra ones off here, so they should already be there because I just took his order two minutes ago.”

“Alright,” you disappeared through the back door and snaked down the narrow corridor, ending up behind the messy reception area.

Your eyes didn’t have to search for long before you noticed the petite basket, brimming with beige eggs, resting on the top of the counter right beside the small rolodex that displayed what date it was. Grasping it in your hand, your vision momentarily drifted down to the small, framed photo nuzzled behind the ever-open logbook. Sitting on the swing that still hung from one of the sturdy trees out back, head adorably posed in a tiny palm, there a 7-year-old version of you sat, forever frozen in that singular moment, beaming up at the camera.

“Ah!” a sharp voice boomed as you heard the front door swing shut, “oh my goodness, oh my god! Y/n!”

Raising your chin, your eyes grew wide at the rotund woman beaming at you from the doormat, “miss Rays!” you hurried around the front desk, “oh my god, it’s been so long!”

Capturing you in a hug, she pressed your form into her bosom, “darling, we’re not in bed together, call me Donna.”

Pulling back with a light chuckle, your eyes fluttered over her features, “you haven’t changed one bit,” her lipstick still a fiery shade red and hair still short and feathery framing her plump cheeks.

“You however have,” she clasped your free hand in hers, guiding your figure to give her a good view, “oh, do a little spin for me,” you bashfully obliged with a giggle, “yes! Honey, who is this woman, what have you done with the adorable little girl I used to tutor?”

To your knowledge, Dunbrook never really had a proper school, but for as long as you could recall Donna had always operated as a teacher to the handful of children that called the reclusive mountain village their home. Even though it was just run out of her living room, she had still been the best teacher you’d ever had, her patient way rivalling any of the professors you had to endure when you went off for college. As a matter of fact, she had been the person who’d pushed you to send in the application, praising that you were too clever not to go out and change the world.

“Oh, stop it,” you sighed light-heartedly, a chuckle still bubbling out of your chest as you shifted the subject away from your own appearance, “so, you still come here for breakfast?”

“Of course, I do, you’ve tasted your father’s cooking,” readjusting her purse, she hooked her arm in yours, “a real shame that he’s never accepted any of my offers of becoming your stepmom,” she leaned in to add as you crossed over the threshold into the dinner room, “I could have been served all my meals in bed like some Egyptian queen!”

“I’m sure you can easily find another fellow that can handle himself in the kitchen,” the click-clack of her heels came to a stop by one of the small round tables, her eyes briefly taking in the other patrons before a slight crease appeared betwixt her polished brows.

“Oh, darn it,” her vision stayed glued to the table in the corner as she lowered herself onto her seat, “he’s not sitting at his usual table…”

“Who?”

“The eye candy over there,” she tilted her chin in the direction of the broad, muted flannel-clad back of the man sitting by the window furthest down at the bottom of the room, “you see, I asked your dear father to always reserve this spot for me just so that I can have a great view, if you know what I mean…” gulping down the rest of his coffee, the man’s head tilted enough for you to recognise whom the rugged looking visage belonged to, “oh boy, I tell you, if I was 30 years younger…”

Haven assumed that you’d never again run into the stranger who’d helped you just the day before, a warm flutter suddenly trickled down your spine, “like that’s ever stopped you before,” you pointed out, snapping your eyes out of their trance, “so, uh, do you know what you want to eat or do you just want some coffee or something while you think on it?” you took two steps towards the oblong table where mismatched teacups where stacked and the steam of a few thermoses, all containing a different hot beverage then the next, billowed out.

“Some coffee would be lovely,” she smiled as you with one hand snatched up a mug and the decanter labelled as such, “and some oatmeal if you don’t mind, sweetie.”

Promptly pouring her a cup, you then signed off with a wink, “you got it,” before your vision landed upon the latest of Donna’s abundant infatuations once more.

Attempting to make the short journey seem spontaneous and effortless, you bounced from table to table, topping off people's cups, before reaching the final one.

Drawing in a deep breath, your embarrassingly giddy voice then found his ears, “well, hello stranger.”

Eyes flickering away from the newspaper sprawled out before him, a look of shock washed over his gruff features as he glanced up at you, “oh, hi.”

“Pete–, it is Pete, right?” you checked, slight mortification beginning to brew within your belly.

“Yes, ma'am,” his head nodded ever so slightly.

“Do you want a refill, Pete?” you savoured the taste of his name on your tongue.

“Sorry?” his brows furrowed at your offer.

“Your coffee,” you pointed with the hand that clutched the handle of the thermos, “do you want some more?”

“Oh,” he breathed, though the puzzled look didn’t seem to fade, “yes, always.”

Leaning in slightly over the newspaper, you filled up the drained mug, only a murky ring at the bottom indicating what it had previously contained, “and can I get you something to eat as well?”

Eyes narrowing, he stared up at you, “is your vacation really already so boring that you got a job here or what?”

“Oh,” you couldn’t help but breathe out a light chuckle as you answered, “I’m not on vacation and I guess, kinda,” staring back into his eyes as you attempted to repeat your question, “so, do you want any–,” though before you could finish the sentence, out pranced your father, a plate of food balanced in his palm.

“2 eggs sunny side up and some sourdough toast, as per usual,” he sang as his long arm came down to slice the air between your forms, placing the dish upon the table.

Briefly catching his eye, Pete then offered a polite nod of gratitude, “thank you,” folding the paper up and scooting the meal closer.

Feeling the small basket of eggs disappear from your grip, you blinked back at your father as he softly requested in your ear, “honey, could you give me a hand in the back when you’re done out here?”

“Sure, dad,” you flashed him a smile before watching him disappear once more.

Feet still glued to the floorboards right by Pete’s table, your vision then returned to him as his deep voice washed over you, “so, you’re Harvey’s kid, then?”

“Yep, that’s my dad,” your balance briefly shifted as you rocked on the balls of your feet, “thank you, by the way, for yesterday.”

“Oh, it’s no problem,” his fork punctured one of the golden yokes, “how’s your car looking?”

“I don’t really know yet. The local mechanic is taking a look today, so fingers crossed it’s not anything too catastrophic,” you felt your palms begin to sweat as he simply stared up at you in silence, “anyhow,” you averted your gaze nervously, “I’ll stop bothering you, let eat in peace,” you nearly bumped into the chair behind you as you backed up towards the kitchen, the near accident not managing to draw any words out of him, only the hint of a smile twitched at the corner of his lips, “see you around, I guess…”

“Hey, dad?”

Briefly raising his eyes from the logbook cracked open on the wooden counter, he glanced up at you as you bounced down the wide staircase, “yeah, pumpkin?”

Hand tracing the railing, with the aid of the grip, you swung your form around the last post as you ascended the final step, “did you know that the hot water doesn’t work? Like at all.”

“Yeah, that and about a million other things around here,” he sighed, vision returning to the ledger as you rested your folded-up arms upon the top of the reception, “this is a beautiful historic building… and what I mean by that is that there are too many things that either don’t work the way they should or at all. I am not a millionaire, honey. If I was, then the issues wouldn’t be piling up the way that they are…”

Bottom lip snug between your teeth, your mind raced a moment before you quietly theorised, “exactly how long is that list?”

Eyes racing to find your eyes, your father joked, “why? Did you become a contractor while living in New York or something?”

“No, but I was always the handy one out of the two of us,” you noted before your shoulders raised in an innocent shrug, “how hard could it be?”

“Let me get this right,” he raised a palm up between you as his eyes crinkled even further, “you’re telling me you wanna try and patch this place up?”

“Well, it couldn’t hurt the business side of things. When was the last time you booked out more than two rooms at a time here?”

“Oh, no, no,” the moustachioed man then began to shake his head, “you’re not turning this place into some fake, glossy tourist attraction.”

Swinging around to his side of the counter, you assured him, “hey, I’m not saying let's flood this place with tourists, but maybe just a handful more?” tilting your head in an attempt to catch his gaze that had now returned to the open book, “just enough to make ends meet, perhaps also enough to at some point hire someone else so that you won’t work yourself to death…”

Eyes frozen on the page before him, a long exhale then flowed from his lungs as he deliberated.

“Alright, fine, yeah, I guess that wouldn’t be that bad…” he tried to downplay the smile that blossomed upon his lips.

Spine pressed against the edge of the front desk, you then braced with your palms and hauled yourself up onto the spot that was just clear enough for you to sit there without knocking any knickknacks over.

“So,” you drew out, searching for a new topic to explore, “Donna seems to be quite set on that guy Pete to be her new husband, huh?”

“Oh, yeah,” Harvey chortled, “but you know her, she’s like a dog spotting a pheasant every time she sees a new man. I think genuinely I might be the only person in town who isn’t either terrified of him or has some desire to sleep with him.”

“How long has he been here anyway?”

“Eh,” he glanced up at the stained glass adorning the front door as he thought, “maybe a year or two? He mostly keeps to himself, lives up in a cabin in the woods and only really comes down here to either provide some firewood to whoever needs it or have some coffee,” vision landing on you, he then noted, “you however seemed to have broken through to him quite quickly. Took me like 5 months to get anything more than a grunt of recognition out of him.”

“Oh,” you couldn’t stop your eyebrows as they promptly rose up, “well, he kinda helped me the day that I got here. He was the guy I caught a ride with…”

#lea’s writing #lilac series #lumberjack!frank castle #frank castle x reader #frank castle imagine #frank castle x you #frank castle x y/n #frank castle x female reader #frank castle x fem!reader #frank castle x f!reader #frank castle fic #the punisher fic #frank castle fanfiction #the punisher x reader #frank castle fluff #frank castle series #lumberjack au

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