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#thank you for this!! what a fun scenario :D

dreamofjoys · 1 day

Text

Synopsis: Malleus decided to prank you by walking in naked while you are on a zoom meeting

C/W: Nudity, suggestive, just Malleus pranking MC but also exposing him self, double D malleus😛

A/N: Not sure if anyone did this scenario before (I have vague impression about it) but this is just my version. Thank you and enjoy this silly post:)

MDNI, 18+

Malleus pranking MC by doing the viral tiktok challenge, “walking in naked while your partner is busy on a meeting”. He wasn’t sure how you would react at first. He is merely doing this challenge for fun since he heard that most children of men like to do this kind of things. Perhaps this is your type of fun too?

You had to compose yourself and not let your expression waver when you see lover displaying his birthday suit infront of you. “Uhhh MC, are you there?” Deuce called you out as he noticed you staring at something. Your cheeks were already noticeably bright red when you realised that his twin dicks are hard and standing up straight. Is he horny just by looking at you…..? Malleus honestly thought that you would find his prank funny and laugh at it. Instead, he find himself getting horny just by the mere sight of you. The tips of his ears are slightly red from embarrassment as he realised that he got caught….

“Uhm…. Talk to you later, bye!” You slammed your laptop shut, not bothering to even look at the camera while your friends at the other side wonder what’s going on. In an instant, the fae teleported beside you and picked your small body up. Your legs immediately wrapped around his waist as his arms support your body by holding onto your butt.

“Just the tip….. please?” Malleus squeezes your ass cheek, giving you his best puppy dog eye as he beg for your permission to let him tip fuck you. You sigh, knowing that the tip is never enough for him.

#twisted wonderland #malleus draconia #dreamofjoystwst #diasomnia #imagines #y/n #twst malleus #twst malleus draconia #tw nudity #tw suggestive

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chilschuck · 2 days

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I love your writings so much!! I was thinking if you could do some scenarios of tall-man chilchuck and reader

`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ thank you so so much anon WAHHHH!!! i hope these are okay!! it’s currently almost midnight where i’m at but i wanted to get these out for you!!! us tall-man chil fans gotta have something to eat fr!!! <333

— TALL-MAN!CHILCHUCK: x gn!reader hcs.

꒰ warnings: ꒱ none, sfw + fluffy!!!

꒰ wc: ꒱ 585

✦ hope these are what you were wanting!! if not, feel free to submit another request for more tall-man chil and i will happily oblige!! :D <333

✦ Even though he wasn’t a tall-man for very long, you still found yourself enamored with him in this form. You were already smitten with Chilchuck anyways, but this was something very different to the both of you.

✦ The fact he towered over you like this made your heart beat a little faster, and once he found out his effect on you in that way, you were doomed.

✦ It started with him instead resting his head on top of yours, using his height to his advantage now. Sometimes he’d even pull you to his chest, your back to him, and laugh at the reaction you gave him. You didn’t find his teasing very amusing at first.

✦ Even so, you couldn’t help but wrap your arms around his waist occasionally, nuzzling your head into his own back and causing him to jump slightly. You weren’t going to let any time you had him in this form go to waste, so you spent it giving him even more affection.

✦ Your hand sought his out any chance it could, your fingers intertwining and causing him to look up at you. All you gave him was that cheeky smile and a wink, causing him to grumble. The effect you had on him…

✦ If there was ever a time you took a moment to rest, you’d sit between his legs and just admire him. Holding his hand in yours and comparing the size, studying how broad his chest was, noticing little details like the shape of his chin… Chilchuck’s cheeks were always rosy when you gave him that kind of attention, embarrassed to be doted on like that in front of everyone. (Not that they cared all too much; Marcille was definitely squealing at the moment.)

✦ Chil was always so fun to mess with, especially with him being like this. You couldn’t help but pull him down to your height and place tender and sweet kisses to his cheek, before letting go and walking off like nothing happened. (Oh, that’d get him all flustered for sure.)

“Chil…” You’d whisper, hands behind your back in that innocent way you always did when you were scheming something. Raising a brow at you, he walked over to the sound of his name, waiting for you to continue.

Instead of giving him what he expected, you reached up for his neckwarmer, pulling him down until he was level to you. Before he could pull away, you pressed soft, fleeting kisses to his stubbled cheek. Letting your lips trail along his skin until you reached the corner of his mouth, you abruptly let go of him and walked off. Chilchuck scrambled for something to say, anything at all, but instead watched as you caught up to the others.

You knew just how much you drove him insane.

✦ You were used to protecting him before, but now he still couldn’t do much in this state. More than happy to assist, you’d make sure he stayed safe, while also appreciating just how handsome he was. (You’d give him another wink and he’d yell out for you to stay focused!)

✦ Noticing just how skinny he was, especially like this, you’d try and convince him to eat a little more than usual. All this affection and doting wasn’t unusual in the slightest, but he could tell you were enjoying yourself a little too much like this. Not that he’d ever catch himself saying anything about how he secretly revels in it…

— dividers by @/cafekitsune! <3

#⟡ lilia writes! 🌿#hope these turned out okay!!!#going to go sleep now jzhldhdkdjksj #barely keeping my eyes open fr #but i always love writing for him!!!!!!!#lots of love to you!!!!#chilchuck x reader #chilchuck tims x reader #delicious in dungeon x reader #dungeon meshi x reader #dunmeshi x reader

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caspersickfanfics · 29 days

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I continue to force my sick Cyno agenda on innocent talented people and I cannot be stopped. This isn’t a fic request or anything I just want to share this brain worm

Cyno returning to Tighnari from work seemingly fine, a few scratches etc, but he’s VERY tired, so they do their song and dance of treatment and grounding and go to have dinner. And Cyno seems normal, until dinner is served and for whatever reason the normally iron stomach Cyno CANNOT handle whatever nari served. And it’s bad like he goes from fine to scrambling to the bathroom and Tighnari is just *surprised pikachu*

now here’s the thing- something nari served reminded Cyno of something he witnessed or had to deal with on his last mission. Maybe Cyno didn’t think whatever he saw or did, or ate, (who knows!! It’s a mystery ) affected him that much until it reappeared in this new context? Or maybe his body just has a knee jerk reaction to a perceived threat? Frankly I have no idea what it would be that caused this but the possibilities are fun. And! I like the idea of Cyno being equally shocked by his sudden nausea and it just totally ruining his night as his stomach just won’t stop churching

he would make tighnari SWEAR to never mention this to anyone ever, the General Mahamatra doesn’t get squeamish (and really he usually doesn’t) but Tighnari rolls his eyes and assures him that exhaustion plus *insert whatever the hell happened* would make anyone feel off something something comfort the end

Oh this is so freaking perfect for them!!!!! Absolutely brilliant.

I can think of a few things that could lead to this. One would be having a normal meal and then witnessing or experiencing something traumatic afterwards. Another would be a more direct tie -- eating something that was poisoned. And the middle option would be, Cyno got captured (and tortured or made to witness Horrors, etc.) and was forced to eat the same thing every day :(( Whatever it was, Cyno wasn't physically injured too bad, and he's had time to recover from that, so he figures "all's well that ends well" and doesn't linger on it much at all (avoidance is a symptom of trauma). Maybe there was someone else who went through it with him and they're not feeling great about it, so Cyno makes sure to get them situated and in a place to heal mentally, and then as he's leaving they're like "are you sure you're okay?" and he's like "yeah of course, I'm the General Mahamatra, so I'm always okay" and from that point on it's just no longer something that crosses his mind.

Tighnari can immediately see how tired he is, but is relieved to find no injuries. Cyno doesn't talk much, but that's typical, even more so when he's tired, and he just seems happy to see Nari.

I like the idea of Cyno sitting down to eat and he feels a bit nauseous from the smell of the food, but figures it's just the exhaustion. It's probably not an unfamiliar feeling for him after such a tiring job. He's not even slightly worried about it until the food is actually in his mouth and by that point his stomach is lurching. He's uncharacteristically clumsy as he scrambles out of the room.

It just crossed my mind that his job might mandate a certain level of confidentiality at times. So now I'm also playing with this idea of Tighnari, like, super worried because that was weird, and Cyno doesn't have a fever, but even after he empties his stomach, he's washed out, sweaty, on-edge. But Cyno's just sitting there in the corner of the bathroom, trembling like a leaf, mumbling apologizes for not being able to eat the food and saying stuff like "I can't– I just can't eat that" and shuddering when he thinks too hard about it. Tighnari's smart so pretty quickly he's like "did something happen at work?" And Cyno shrugs but obviously it's a yes. Nari's kind of frustrated, not at Cyno, but at the fact that he can't share his burdens. Cyno squeezes his eyes shut, but that doesn't do anything to stop the memories, and maybe he starts dry heaving. Tighnari just rubs his back quietly and tries not to imagine what Cyno must have experienced to have his body rebel so intensely. They spend the rest of the night trying to figure out how to make Cyno feel safe - maybe they trade huts with Collei or borrow an empty one for the night because the smell is triggering. Cyno can't stomach any food at this point, but tea helps. His body is so tired that he drifts off, but he keeps waking up from nightmares. Each time, he snuggles closer to Nari, who pretends to stay sleeping because he knows Cyno would feel baad for waking him. The third or fourth time Cyno wakes up, though, he's sick again, and Tighnari figures enough is enough. They spend the early morning hours playing cards. Tighnari is hardly paying attention to the game at all, instead choosing to focus on the conversation, sifting through their shared memories and deliberately bringing up the happiest, most comforting ones he can find, so that when Cyno falls asleep at the table, it's actually peaceful this time. Tighnari doesn't move him because he's sure it will wake him. He just keeps watch over him, playing with his hair, and feels devastatingly sad for whatever it was Cyno had to endure.

...I rambled as usual. I love this idea so much. I know you said it's not a request but I'm ngl I am kinda tempted to write this sdkjsfdjs (also!! I wholly support your sick Cyno agenda, please continue! XD)

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freepassbound · 1 year

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1,3, 8, 12 please handsome 😘😘

1. What is your preferred size?

There is a cheeky, bit-of-a-cop-out answer to this - that also happens to be completely true! - which is: my preferred size is whatever size my partner (like, ideal scenario, love-of-my-life, partner) wants me to be, at that moment.

That said, there are a few I tend to default to on my own - which, because I have a strong sexy-times tilt, tend to be for... *ahem*... those purposes. Simplest answer is there's basically three - a handful of inches shorter than my partner (which isn't even G/t, but it is shrinking - or them growing - so...), half-size, and a bit under a foot. Among those, I would my favorite is half-size.

3. What would your tiny/giant home look like?

Well, given the previous answer, it would look largely normal, I think? (Also, it would be her home) Maybe a few accommodations for a tiny, but at half-size, largely just me schlepping a step-stool around to access things. 😄

8. Sci-fi shrinking or magic shrinking?

My initial thought is, aren't they about the same thing? Clarke's Law and all that. My most fantasized method - their innate power - is more magical, I suppose?

12. If you suddenly grew/shrunk where you are right now, what would happen?

Well, the laptop would be a lot heavier! 😂 I'd have to hop down from the couch, I imagine - legs would be dangling. And I don't have a light portable step-stool, so getting at things would be a bit of trouble.

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creantzy · 9 months

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The Path To Freedom [PART 13]

Read from left to right

The Path To Freedom is OFFICIALLY FINISHED‼️🤩

I will soon compile the references, inspirations and thought processes behind this comic into a few pages explaining them in detail, but until then I'm really interested to hear what your thoughts are. Whether it's pointing out parallels / reverse cards / references you recognized, or naming your favorite scenes, giving opinions, even writing any analysis, really anything that comes to your mind, feel free to share!

By referencing Fyodor's canon goal, I chose an open ending to leave room for interpretation what Fyodor's future could look like in this universe. Will he fail and have to come to terms with Nikolai's death? Will he succeed? And if he does, how would Nikolai feel about being brought back to life? Is Fyodor's ideal world even possible? There are a lot of questions to think about and use to create all kinds of different possible scenarios, and if you happen to be inspired to write or draw something related to this comic, I'd be more than happy to read it :D

Thank you for all the support throughout the whole thing! Not only was the comic extremely fun to create but seeing your reactions to the different parts made the experience feel much more “alive”. (I especially enjoyed your pain and suffering😁👍)

Thank you🤍

#bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #fyodor dostoevsky #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #bsd fyodor #bsd anime #bsd #fyolai #nikolai gogol #bsd nikolai gogol #mykola hohol #dostogol #dostogogol #fyogol

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jasmines-library · 3 months

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Hi. Um... i have been craving angst

👀 and my angsty mind has been making up... scenarios, but like would love them typed out so i can read 💀 i live your work, p.s. <3

anyways, would like to ask for something along these lines:

reader is a batsibling

is kidnapped

fam cant find her for a few days and is panicked

they find her somewhere, blindfolded and tied up, on the ground and caked in blood

they get her some med stuff and whatever

and they're like how did this happen so they somehow get cctv or duke uses his powers or something and finds out that they've been beaten for info

and they get like really angry and all that jazz

:D rest up to you!

would be great if you did it 🥺

but i understand if it's too much

love youuuu 💖/platonic ehe

okay, i will excuse myself from your asks now. byeee

Loaded Silence

hello hello! Thanks for requesting. This was super angsty, but as you put I crave it too... ❤️

Warnings: Kidnapping, Torture (not very graphic), fear, medical scenes.

Word Count: 1.5k

⛤ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛤

It had happened unexpectedly. You were there one second and gone the next. In a blink of an eye. Nothing more nothing less. That was all it took for you to slip away. Damian could have sworn he was only gone for a minute. To stretch his legs and grab something to eat. But that was all it took for them to sneak in. Quiet as a mouse they crept in, splitting through the open window at the back of the room. Leaving it open had been a careless mistake, but who was to think that you would have been taken in the safety of your own home?

They grabbed you roughly from behind. A set of rough hands pinning you to the sofa, clamped tightly over your mouth as another worked to tie a heavy bandage around your eyes. You had squirmed feebly trying to gain some leverage. Your training desperately tried to kick in but at that moment, you were not a vigilante. You were Y/N Wayne: A citizen, child to the wealthiest man in Gotham and utterly fucked.

You had no choice after that than to allow them to drag you downtown, you had kicked and cried blindly, desperate for one of your brothers to chase after you. But whoever was gripping you tight enough to bruise was clearly experienced and you knew that they stood no chance so unexpectedly.

When they tossed you down on the ground, you thought it would offer some relief. The room was dank, dusty and smelt of water rot and mould. This was the part where they would send a ransom note to Bruce and he and your brothers would come charging in sooner or later. But you had never been more wrong.

“We know who you are, Wayne.” A voice spoke. Feminine but not soft spoken. Threatening. “Or would you prefer Raven?”

Your stomach dropped as bile burned the back of your throat. You knew you could fight now, but you were defenceless weaponless with your hands and feet bound together.

“The fuck do you want?” You spat, though the effect of the venom in your words was lost for you looked so helpless.

“Bold of you to speak to me that way, given your predicament.” The woman chuckled, prodding you with her foot. “You’re here as a sort of…payment.” She mused. “I suppose you could call it that.”

“What?”

“My husband.” She started, moving away from you. You could hear her pacing around the room but you could only conjure up images in your mind. “Leader of the greatest crime suricate in Gotham. And now, he’s dead. Rotting in some coffin in the ground, thanks to your father.”

She moved closer again. Her heels clattered against the floor.

“He took away the only thing that ever mattered to me!” She gripped your wrist, lifting you up off the floor and leaning into your face. “So now, I’m going to take away one of his toys until someone tells me how to get him out! His precious little girl. Oh how I can’t wait to see the look on all of their faces when they see you. That is of course…after we have a little fun.”

There was still no sign of you. And it felt as if they had searched every inch of the city. The high and the low but still nothing. No one had slept much in the three days you had been missing. Their nights were either spent searching for you on patrol or laying awake staring blankly at the ceiling as their minds conjured up the worst. None of them said it outloud but the possibility that you were dead loomed over them. But no one ever said anything. They just continued to search in silence. It seemed like Babs and Tim hadn’t torn their eyes away from the screens since Damian came barging into the room three days ago, doubled over and panting as he revealed the news. The only time they ever moved was to head to the bathroom or to make another mug of lukewarm coffee.

The rest of the family were out on patrol. That was what they were calling it anyway. Really they were looking for you. And still there had been no sign until Dick stumbled upon a window. It was low down to his feet covered by concrete as though the building had just sunk into the concrete. And when he tried to peer inside, it seemed to be covered by something on the inside.

It could have been nothing.

But Dick was desperate.

He called over the other vigilantes with a signal on his com. They all came tricking over towards him silently through the city. Some bubbling with hope and anticipation, but all dreading the worst.

Moving around the back of the house, Dick pushed open the door.

You had never been more scared in your entire life. Everything ached, burned or stung. From what you could feel there didn’t seem to be a single inch of your skin that wasn’t covered in blood. It clung sticky to your skin, cracking every time you managed to bring yourself to shift against the floor.

She had continued her onslaught for hours, trying to force answers that she knew you would never be able to give her from your chapped lips. She would leave every once in a while, returning silently to catch you off guard with another round of pain. You couldn’t see her: the blindfold still remained firmly around your eyes, so you had to anticipate when she would return as you cowered against the back wall in a pool of your own blood. You were unsure how long it had been since she tossed you into the room. Without the relief of sunlight, your woozy mind had lost track of time.

And then a pair of hands gripped your shoulders. And you screamed, trying to recoil away from them. You didn’t make it far. Your body was too weak.

“No! No please! No more!” You begged, tears dribbling down your cheeks to mingle among the dirt and blood. “I already told you I-I don’t know anything! Please!”

“Woah, woah.” It was Dick’s voice that broke through to you, though they had all called out to you. It was him who had reached out to you in the first place, hesitant that the smallest touch would break you. As soon as they were met with resistance they knew you were here. And they fought as fast as they could to get to you. Praying that they wouldn’t find you as you had. Sprawled out across the floor in a pool of your own blood as you struggled to breathe. “It’s us.”

“We’re here, Kid.” Jason leaned forwards to remove the blindfold from your eyes as Dick tried to support you in his arms. You squiremed weakly, still untrusting. But the minute the blindfold was off and you had finished adjusting to the onslaught of light. You broke.

You collapsed into Dicks arms, sobbing and shaking. He cupped the back of your head with his hands and held you, giving Jason and Duke a nervous glance. Your blood had already begun to stain the front of his suit as you whimpered in his arms, clinging to him tightly.

When he tried to shift you, you let out a sob and clung to him tighter. He wasn’t sure if it was because he had hurt you or because you were scared he was going to leave you. Probably both.

“Y/N?” Jason whispered, moving to crouch by your side. “ We’re here now. We’re going to get you home okay? Can you tell us what happened?”

You shook your head and buried your face into Dicks chest trying to block out the pain.

Eyes turned to Duke who watched you with sad eyes. They observed as he surveyed the room, taking in the horrors that the light revealed. And he couldn’t help the gasp that slipped out of his lips.

He paled at what he saw. Winced at the way your face contorted with pain as the woman towered over you, tossing you about the room like a ragdoll and slashing you with various tools as she screamed at you. He saw how she would catch you off guard by sneaking up on you in the dark as some cruel game to satisfy her sick amusement. He felt sick.

In the time it took for him to see the echo of your agonies, Dick had managed to coax enough for him to stand so they could bring you out of the room and get you urgently to medical attention.

The two looked at him expectantly. And once he had managed to stutter out what he had seen, Jason was tensely clenching his jaw and fists.

Someone was going to bleed tonight. He was going to make sure of that.

Taglist:

@aestheticdaisies

@hell-o-kittys

@xxrougefangxx

@mamapucket

@hearts4robs

@harleycao

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tieronecrush · 6 months

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🎃 trick or treat 🎃

summary: it's halloween and joel's taking your girls trick-or-treating with you in a family costume. feeling uncomfortable in his clothes and his skin, he's on edge most of the evening but does his best to disguise it in order to not spoil the fun. back at home, when his girls lightheartedly tease him about everything he already thought about himself, you're sure to end the night showing joel exactly how you feel about him and his body.

wc: 10k (oops?)

warnings: established relationship/married, canon divergent (no outbreak, ellie & sarah are both his kids, sort of obscure with if they're both his bio kids/your kids - basically y'all are a cute lil family either way! also joel is ~40, no age mentioned for reader!), halloween, family/group costumes, DOMESTIC JOEL!!!, fluff, body insecurities, age insecurities, joel has minor sensory issues?, his kids poke fun at him, sensitive joel, SMUT. it kind of is a thing for the basically the second half, descriptions of joel's body, tummy & thigh worship, oral (m receiving), cowboy rule (for a costume), unprotected piv, lowkey sub!joel for a lil bit, reader is "giving cunt" according to bestie el, then quickly gets back to dom!joel as he gets his confidence back, joel gets that strength in an adrenaline rush that moms get lifting cars off babies but his is for chasing a nut, also, dirty talk!

a/n: my contribution to spooky season, basically at the buzzer lol. this started with me thinking how cute it would be for joel to dress up and go trick-or-treating with his kids, and ended with wanting to s*** his d*** big time. anyways, enjoy my version of halloween with joel, and thank you to @kiwisbell for screaming about this scenario with me and as always a big thanks to my sweet, sweet girlfriend @northernbluess for beta-ing!!!!

Brought on much later than the northern states, fall in Texas is not quite an impactful sight. The one thing that can’t be beaten though is the Texas sun; shining across expansive horizons all times of year, temperatures of the light shifting with the seasons. Orange evening sun stretches across the sky and seeps down in between the leaves speckled with changing colors while Joel’s truck coasts down the neighborhood street. Kids retreat from running around in the road when his car approaches, returning right back to their gameplay when he’s through. Half are dressed up, a medley mix of witches, zombies, vampires, Power Rangers, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Disney Princesses, and countless outfits that he has no idea what they’re referencing.

Fibrous, white faux spiderwebs litter the front porches of the houses lining the street, Jack-O-Lanterns carved and lit up stack on the stairs or create a path along the front walkways. Some of the pumpkins’ faces are wrinkly and sagging, signs of overeagerness from when the fall season started earlier this month. A handful of scarecrows find themselves pitched in the middle of yards with hay spilling out of them, and some of the houses have turned out an expense to get those motion-sensor decorations — the ones really intended to scare the kids that will be unleashed on the neighborhood to trick-or-treat this evening.

Rolling to a stop as he turns into the asphalt driveway, throwing the truck in park, he sits in the cab for a still moment, staring at the signs of life scattered around his family’s house. Four pumpkins, gutted and showing off their faces, a family feud that reached a compromise when it was decided that yes, they would carve pumpkins but no, they would not sit to rot on the front porch all month long; the corn stalks wrapped around the posts of the porch, tied with burlap twine and arranged with sprigs of fall foliage; pots of colorful mums framing the path up to the house, carefully selected by your eye and less delicately planted in their terracotta vessels by Joel’s hands.

Aside from the seasonal decorations, the usual markings of the Miller family were easily spotted: chalk drawings on the shared sidewalk in front of the yard and along the driveway, replaced every weekend by Sarah once the old was washed or worn away; Ellie’s bike discarded on the front lawn, small tire tracks digging up the grass, no matter how many times Joel and you have asked her to put it away when she’s done; the porch swing that Joel built for you, swaying in the breeze and now unoccupied — unusual for the evening routine around the time that Joel comes home from work. He’s normally greeted by his girls, not merely their artifacts. But tonight is a different night, much busier than the slow, molasses life Joel gets to enjoy in the colder weather.

Gathering his lunch bag from the bench seat and bunching up his jacket in the same hand, Joel climbs out of the car and walks into the open garage, leaving his tools behind in the flatbed to be dealt with tomorrow morning. Passing your parked car, he shakes his head with a subtle smile as he closes the driver’s side door of your SUV left open. He can picture you now, running around after picking the girls up from school, mental space occupied by getting everything and everyone together to make it out the door before the sun went down completely.

There’s a trail of evidence to support his musings: a lonesome plastic bag filled with groceries left on top of the car, Sarah’s purple jacket looped through the handle of the garage fridge, probably left behind after she went looking for a juice, and Ellie’s army green backpack tossed on the ground in front of the shoe racks lining the wall next to the door. None of that would fly had you been your usual focused self — more often than not, you’re the parent to put their foot down and keep the girls in line while Joel is the total pushover.

Along his way inside, he picks up all the left-behind items, balancing everything in his hands while he steps into the mudroom. Ellie’s backpack gets shoved into her designated cubby, and Sarah’s jacket gets wrapped on a hook screwed into the wall as Joel kicks off his work boots. After depositing his own belongings in their spots, lunch bag in his cubby and jacket on the hook next to Sarah’s, he grabs his boots in one hand, leaning out the doorway to place them on top of the shoe rack. Closing the door behind him, he picks up the singular bag of groceries left on top of your SUV and pads across the tile further into the house. Immediately, he’s embraced by the warmth radiating from the kitchen, the smells of tomatoes, onions, garlic, and more wafting into his nose causing a smile to stretch across his face and his stomach to rumble.

Every year that he’s known you, without fail, you use Halloween night as an excuse to cook up your family-favorite chili recipe. Sure, it doesn’t get too cold for October in Texas, but damn, does he look forward to the night every year simply for a bowl of it. Laboring over the prep and slow-cooking it all day long, anyone who tries it can taste the care in each bite; like a warm blanket wrapped around his shoulders that lasts with him for the entire evening spent outside with the kids.

The pleas of his stomach lead him straight into the kitchen, his smile growing wider when he sees you standing over the kitchen counter, affixing a sheriff badge to the cow print vest laid out in front of you. He strides over to your side, resting his palm on your lower back and swiping his thumb against the material of your shirt while he leans in to press a kiss to the top of your head, drinking in your scent and feeling the ache of missing you all day. Losing focus from your task, you turn toward him with a bright smile, a quiet sigh leaving your lips, and your shoulders relaxing from their tensed position. Wordlessly, he folds forward, catching your lips in a lingering kiss. Heat pushes against his chest through his denim shirt, your hands skating from his pecs, up and across his shoulders, and down his arms to rest on his biceps. The motions raise goosebumps in their wake, trailing down his spine with a tepid drip.

Joel steals another kiss before he stands up straight again, voice rasping from yelling over powerful tools all day and volume low to keep the semblance of a private moment between the two of you for as long as possible; anything louder would expose his arrival, bombarding him with questions and conflicts to resolve between his daughters.

“Hey, baby.” He greets you with one fleeting kiss pressed to your forehead, hand at your lower back now rubbing side to side, fingers carefully lifting the fabric and pressing the tips of them into your deliciously soft skin.

Turning back to the vest, you drop your hands from his arms not before giving them a gentle squeeze, “Hi, Joel. Good day?”

He shrugs, unable to step away from you just yet, “It was fine — much better now. And I take it yours has been a busy one?”

Joel holds up the plastic bag of groceries with two fingers, one corner of his mouth lifting in a teasing smirk. His hip pops out as he leans against the counter, the smirk turning into a smile when you grimace. His heartbeat skips when your laugh fills his ears, the sound still exciting him after all these years, and you stand over the bag to take a peek inside.

“S’all good. Non-perishables.” It’s Joel’s turn to laugh, shaking his head with a breathy chuckle as he places the bag on the counter, unloading its contents into the pantry while you go about recapping your day for him.

In the midst of you speaking, the tumble of footsteps down the stairs draws his attention away, eyes focusing on the open threshold that leads from the living room into the kitchen. As the quickened steps grow closer, Joel turns to you and holds up three fingers, counting down with them. When he lowers his last finger, a mop of curly hair, a bouncing ponytail, and a whirlwind of chaos disrupts the initial peace of his return home.

“Hi girls, how was today?” he starts before a cacophony of noise fills the kitchen. Skidding to a stop in front of him, he exchanges a look with you before facing his daughters, already overwhelmed with their two voices talking over the other.

“Dad, Dad, Sarah said—”

“Dad, Ellie’s saying that I said—”

Holding his hands up, he flicks his eyes between his two girls. Sarah, the older of the two at eleven years old, stands in front of him with her arms crossed and brow furrowed — a look he is all too familiar with, the similarities between him and her emphasized with her annoyance. Ellie, your youngest, stands with her fists clenched at her sides, her mouth twisted up in frustration and the same furrowed brow as her sister. She looks so much more like you at the moment, only a nine-year-old version, calling back on times Joel can remember of you giving him that very look.

However, with their tempers, there’s no doubt that they’re his kids.

Dropping his hands back to his sides, he rolls his shoulders and takes a deep breath before addressing them.

“So, what’s going on now?” he asks, brows raising and head tilting when the girls each take a sharp inhale, about to speak over each other again, “One at a time. Ellie.”

Sarah rolls her eyes at her younger sister being called upon first, expectantly looking at her sister with annoyance still painting her face. Ellie shoots her a smug look before turning back to Joel, drawing a pout onto her lips to sell her story. He can’t say it doesn’t work for a second, it always will with these two and they know it, but with a quick glance in your direction, he sees you turned away from your task, watching the drama from the sidelines. Mustering the strength to stand his ground against the sweetness of his girls, he clears his throat and listens with his best poker face as Ellie begins explaining.

“Sarah said she wouldn’t trade all her Skittles for my Three Musketeers even though she knows I hate Three Musketeers and she said last week when we were getting our costumes that she would—”

“I never said that, Dad! She’s lying—” Sarah gestures with her hands as if to physically point out the obvious falsehoods in Ellie’s story. Spiraling back out of the fleeting control he had over the situation, the kids get riled up again, yelling over each other, and inching closer. The dad-instincts kick in and he grabs one of each of their shoulders, separating the two of them and turning them to face him again as he puts on what you affectionately call his ‘no-bullshit’ voice.

“Okay, okay, okay! Enough arguin’ about candy that you don’t even have yet. Ellie, you don’t even know if a single house is gonna give ya Three Musketeers, and you don’t even know if Sarah is gonna get any Skittles. Save the trade negotiations for tonight or tomorrow morning. ‘Sides, you gotta pay the Dad Tax before either of y’all get to trade around your pickings.”

“What?”

“No way!”

Joel smiles, waving his pointer finger between his daughters with a single nod of his head. “See? Something y’all can agree on. Now go get washed up for dinner and plot how you can hide your candy from me and Mom.”

As quickly as they came in, they rush right back out, this time a united force scheming against their parents. Joel huffs out a breathy laugh, shaking his head to himself as he turns back to face you. Met with a growing smile, you unravel your arms crossed in front of your chest to pick up the vest from the counter.

“Nice conflict resolution there, hon. Now I won’t see a single piece of candy.” You throw a pout at him, bottom lip jutting out as he steps over to you, one hand splaying on your hip and thumb rubbing languid circles.

“Don’t worry, baby, I think I know every single one of their hiding spots from how many times they had to move their candy last year. They won’t even notice anything's gone.” With a quick wink, he leans in for a kiss, short and sweet. Standing up straight, the smile on your face mirrors his, your left index finger reaching up to fit into the valley of his dimple.

“Are we bad parents to be scheming how to steal from our children?” you question, biting back a laugh.

“I think that’s just part of parenting, darlin’.”

The laugh you held back escapes you, rolling your eyes playfully at his facetious answer; the vest in your hands catches his eyes again, and he sighs to himself as he holds a hand out for it.

“So you really did find a cow print vest for me? How lucky.” Sarcasm coats his tone and you lift the material, depositing it in his open palm.

“It is lucky, isn’t it? I think you’re going to look great in your costume. Got all the perfect parts, plus you can wear your own jeans and boots. Economical.”

“You sure you need me for this group costume?”

“Joel. You’re literally one of the main characters from the damn movie. And the girls really want you to dress up and take them trick-or-treating. Plus it’s probably going to be one of, if not the last year that we get to do all this as a family. Our kids are growing up.”

“Don’t remind me, means m’getting older too,” he grumbles under his breath, eyes falling to the fabric in his hand.

It’s true what they say about having kids: the days are long, but the years are short.

At times, Joel wishes he could pull each hair out of his head instead of dealing with the shit his kids bring to him sometimes — “Dad, I got called into the principal’s office.” “Dad, I threw a softball and broke the window.” “That’s so unfair, Dad! Why do you have to be so mean?” It’s easy to get lost in the mess that is his family, but it’s a mess he loves. It feels like it was only yesterday that he was becoming a father when Sarah was born, getting a grasp on the whole thing and then Ellie came along. What he would do without you there by his side, he doesn’t have a clue.

Like flipping through a scrapbook, he can remember every year prior for his girls. In a flash, they’ve grown from dressing up as princesses and unicorns — a dragon for Ellie — to being Spy Kids and vampires. His oldest is verging on becoming a teenager, and if he knows his daughters, he knows that once Sarah quits dressing up each year, when she asks to go to her friends’ houses instead of spending the night with Mom and Dad, Ellie will want to do the same as her older sister, always looking up to her despite their differences.

There’s only so much more time for his kids to be kids, even if they may always feel like the tiny baby girls he held in his arms. All he wants to do is to protect them, keep them under his eye as long as he can, but he can hear your voice prying his grasp away from them, encouraging him to let them grow, let them experience the world as he got to do when he was younger. You’ll remind him that you were a teenage girl once, reassuring him that they’re always going to need him. He knows it’s all going to sneak up on him; one day, he’s going to pull into the driveway and notice the lack of chalk drawings. He might even be happy at first about Ellie’s bike being put away, but when he goes into the garage to work on some of his projects, he’ll notice the smallest bit of dust on it from disuse.

Stepping away from him to shuffle across the kitchen, you reach on your tiptoes to pull out four bowls from the cabinet. Joel steps over behind you, a hand on your back as he intercepts your movements, grabbing the ceramic dishes and handing them to you.

Like a shadow, he follows behind you as you walk over to the pot filled with dinner, eagerly watching over your shoulder with his chest pressed against your back and hands on your waist as you lift the lift. Aromas waft with the steam rising, the delectably rich dish slowly bubbling as it finishes melding altogether. It smells like home, always the mark of the changing of the seasons in the Miller household, and one of the little traditions that he so appreciates you creating for your family. Just like the way you make crinkle cookies and still sign presents from Santa at Christmas, despite the fact that your daughters found out about that a couple of years ago from a yappy kid at school.

Joel was very close to driving over to his house and letting his parents know how he felt about their kid murdering the magic of Christmas for his girls.

All he can hope is that these little traditions continue even when the girls are grown up; the four of you gathering around the table for your annual chili dinner before they head off to hang out with friends and you two are left to watch cheesy Halloween movies and hand out candy to children that remind you of your daughters.

With another deep breath, warmth surrounds him. Joel’s lips find the spot just under your ear, kissing gently before he rests his chin on your shoulder, “Smells so good, baby. Have I told you how much I love you?”

A breathy, incredulous laugh falls from your lips as you stir the pot’s contents around, your smile sticking around as you counter, “You’re only saying that ‘cause I’m feeding you.”

A dramatic, exaggerated gasp sharply inhales into his lungs, standing up straight and patting his hands on your sides, “Absolutely not, darlin’. I love you all the time—”

“But especially when I feed you,” you finish, turning out of his arms to grab the stack of bowls. He stops your motions by wrapping his arms around your waist, feeling the press of you against his torso and relishing in the heat of your body against his. Curling up like a cat in the sun, he nudges his nose against your hairline, peppering kisses along the contours of your face.

In between kisses, he says word by word, over and over, “I. Love. You. My. Beautiful. Wonderful. Incredible. Wife.”

“Alright, alright! Gosh, you’re clingy,” you tease, leaning back to look into his eyes with a playful glint in your eye and a smirk held tight in your lips, “I love you too, my beautiful, wonderful, incredible husband.”

Your free hand smooshes his cheeks together and tugs him down gently to exchange a tender kiss. It ends much too soon for Joel, him chasing your lips and pouting when you turn away to start serving up dinner.

“Better go tell the girls dinner’s ready before they’ve finished plotting how to stow away candy in the floorboards.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he answers, punctuating the conversation with a cheeky smack to your ass, scampering away quickly before you can pretend to scold him.

Tugging at the material across his stomach, Joel combs his eyes over his reflection in the mirror of your en-suite bathroom. Rolling his shoulders back, the fabric of the yellow and red plaid flannel pulled taut, lifting the hem a couple of inches and showing off the skin of his softened tummy. Dark curls of hair litter the center of the sliver of skin, trailing down under the waist of his dark wash jeans. He doesn’t bother tucking the shirt in, giving himself the breathing room of the few inches at the hem. Fingers grip the thick fabric, sharply pulling it back down to lay over his jeans again.

Picking up the cow-print vest you were adorned with the plastic gold Sheriff badge downstairs in the kitchen, he’s taken back to a few weeks ago at the Halloween store.

You and he had opted to spend Saturday morning taking Sarah and Ellie to pick out their costumes for the holiday, letting them run free until they decided on a shared costume for once. Sarah quickly picked out her size in the Jessie costume, and all of the family agreed to be different characters from the Toy Story movie.

Ellie wandered the aisles, searching for the perfect combinations to create her ideal costume, which was, of course, the mechanical spider toy with the baby doll head that the kid Sid builds in the film. She returns to where Joel is standing with you, staring at the walls of costumes to find something for the both of you; he looks down at his youngest, jumping minutely when he’s faced with a mutilated baby doll mask, shiny plastic reflecting him in the surface.

“Ellie. You can’t be the creepy baby doll,” he sighs, hand falling to his hip as he rests his weight on it, the other leg stepping out while he slowly shakes his head.

Tipping the mask up to the top of her head, Ellie stomps her feet, shoulders falling and head leaning back as she groans in complaint, “Why not, Dad?” She draws out his parental title, kicking the toe of her shoe against the buffed tiles of the storefront that remains empty eleven out of twelve months of the year.

“You’re gonna scare the little kids, and it’ll be your mom and I who are dealing with the angry parents.”

Ellie huffs out a breath, reaching up to snatch the mask off, turning on the heel of her sneaker, and stomping off to go find another costume. Turning his attention back to you at his side, he notices a cheeky smile on your face as you find your size in a woman’s Buzz Lightyear costume.

“What? What are you laughin’ at?” he questions, his lips tugging up in a grin.

“Oh, nothing. Jus’ that you told our daughter she can’t be the creepy baby doll 'cause you’d be the one scared of her.” A laugh takes over the end of your sentence, a flash of your bright smile widening his own.

“Did not. It’s ‘cause we’d have a bunch of crying little kids and judging parents to deal with.”

“Sure, honey, sure. It’s okay if you’re scared.”

Stepping closer to you, he pinches your side playfully, wrapping an arm around your waist to tug you against his side. He presses a kiss to the top of your head, speaking softly, “Know me too well, baby…”

Your free hand pats his chest affectionately and you unravel from his hold. Joel takes your hand before you get far, intertwining your fingers together while you both shuffle along the wall of costumes. The plastic bags shine, displaying cartoonish outfits of various characters. The exaggerated smiles of the models give him the heebie-jeebies, shuddering his shoulders at the thought that any grown person would be that excited to wear itchy polyester once before letting it collect dust in their closet and giving it away before next Halloween.

Halting in front of the costume you were looking for Joel, you bend down to flick through the sizes, your lips pulling together in a thoughtful pucker. Standing back up straight next to him, your teeth toy your bottom lip left to right, eyes scanning for any other options before you turn toward him.

“Can’t find what you’re lookin’ for, baby?”

With a shrug, you respond, “They have the costume the girls wanted you to wear, but they don’t have your size. Think I can find some stuff at the thrift store or TJ Maxx or online to make the costume up if that’s okay—”

“Whatever you need to do. S’fine.”

“I’m sorry, hon, but you don’t need to worry about it, I’ll find everything.”

“Said s’fine, darlin’. Don’t even need to dress up, really.” A small seed of shame is planted in his gut, insecurity watering it and causing it to grow, branching off to tangled in his chest. Comfort eases him out of the spiral when your hands find his chest, rubbing softly and tilting your head to meet his gaze with pure affection.

“Still gotta dress up with us, hon. Who’s gonna be the Woody to my Buzz if it isn’t you? Can’t dress up as one half of the best friend duo without my best friend,” you grin, standing on your toes to catch his lips in a gentle kiss, which ends too soon for his taste despite being in the middle of the shop.

Vest shrugged onto his shoulder, and he gives himself another once over in his full outfit, the same insecurity from a few weeks ago pouring down to cultivate his shame. He doesn’t look the same as he did when he met you, even the same as he did last year. Graying hair and salt and pepper beard, lines next to his eyes and across his forehead, only deepened when he furrows his brow at the look of him in his costume.

He looks ridiculous.

Better to get this night over with, let his girls enjoy themselves, and attempt to forget his discomfort in the outfit. Picking up his cheap cowboy hat that arrived in the mail earlier that week, he avoids another look in the mirror before he slips out of the bathroom, eyes focused on the toes of his boots while he walks out the door of your bedroom, past the full-length mirror next to your closet and the small round one on your vanity.

No need to foul his mood and spoil the fun. It’s for his girls.

The screams and laughter of children echo into the deepening night sky, the street bright from the lamps lining it along with porch lights staying on, open garage doors, all signaling a welcoming to the trick-or-treaters to come and grab their haul from each vast bowl or cauldron of candy.

Blurs of costume cross below Joel’s sightline as he walks hand-in-hand with you, kids running around blindly, the safety of such a crowd in the small neighborhood blanketing them with trust that they’ll be able to find their way home wherever they end up. Sarah and Ellie are ten paces ahead, moving quickly and efficiently to “maximize their candy collection”. Ellie’s words, after she presented her hand-drawn map of their neighborhood and the one across the main road, highlighting which houses are notorious for King Size treats and noting which ones give out toothbrushes or nothing at all.

The collar of his flannel is tightened around his neck from the string of his chestnut cowboy hat. Pulled down to rest on his clavicle, the body of the hat swings against his back as he walks, only adorning the top of his head for a few photos that you insisted on dragging out the tripod and self-timer for in the middle of the living room. He took the rest of the photos you wanted, maybe a bit too eagerly getting out of the frame and relaxing the slightest bit behind the camera. Photo evidence of how laughable he looks does not need to exist en masse. With a sigh, he reaches a hand up to tug the string down for what feels like the tenth time in thirty minutes of walking, relief felt for a few seconds before it slides back up to the base of his throat, flipping up the collar of his shirt with it.

Denim from his dark wash bootcut jeans starts to dig into his hips, roughening the skin there from his strides and their inch-too-small size from the year prior. These were deemed his “nice” jeans, per your request, only pulled out a handful of times a year for occasions that he was meant to look nicer than his raggedy Levi’s, covered in spots from paint, wood stain, oil, or dirt, the fraying, white strings hanging from the hems and ripping when caught under his step — all the signs of his day-to-day life. What he’s comfortable in.

These — these are not comfortable, not worn in enough to feel buttery against his skin, and not returning to his size even after washing and line drying. These are stiff, formed to his skin and resisting a tightness with each swing of his legs. The fresh material rubs against his bare skin underneath, the waist of his boxers falling an inch or two down to create the perfect space for the waistband to chafe. He’s tempted to pause the two of you walking along, long enough to tuck in the material of the flannel, but quickly decides against it when he thinks about the exaggeration of his stomach with the form-fitting, tucked shirt stretched over it.

Occupied in his thoughts, he barely notices that you've slowed down until you come to a stop at the end of a driveway, two streets over from your own home, waiting as your daughters wait in line for their packaged sugar.

You hold onto his bicep with your opposite hand, leaning your weight against his side. Like a weighted blanket, in the interim of a hug from you, he takes on the change to his equilibrium, relishing in the comforting press of your body against him. Easing away his anxieties and his insecurities that, of course, had to be present for this wholesome, once-a-year family night; he rests his chin on your head, breathing in the smell of your rosemary and mint shampoo, tingling his nostrils and drinking down the scent he’s so familiar with.

His focus draws to Sarah, hair in a French braid pulled away from her face and cherry red cowboy hat on her head, and Ellie, lime green face paint that she insisted on and an antenna sticking up from the top of her head and exaggerated, pointed green ears all attached to the same headband. The two of them are near the front of the queue for candy at this particular house, the process a bit more involved with a haunted graveyard required to pass through to earn your sweet reward.

All she’d been saying the whole night since getting dressed had been “The claaaaaw!” or “I have been chosen!”. She screams the latter in the face of a teenager who pops out from a bush to scare her, completely unphased as she sneaks past him, grabbing a handful of candy for her and Sarah, running back down the path with her older sister before they pause to distribute the goods.

Joel lifts your joined hands, hooking his arm over your shoulder and laying your arm across your chest as he gathers you closer.

“So how many cavities do you think we’ll be paying for ‘cause of tonight’s candy haul?” he wonders aloud, a smile ticking up the side of his mouth when you giggle at his joke. It never gets old, being able to make you laugh, and it’s like a weed whacker to the strangling vines of his insecurities growing tightly in his chest. A looseness that gives him the chance for a deep breath, gratitude wilting the branches as he studies the grin on your face, the admiration twinkling in your eyes.

“Probably should be callin’ the dentist to see if they have a two-for-one discount.” It’s his turn to laugh at your response, tautening his arm around your shoulders to tow you closer to him, your head tilting back as you swing your front toward him. Joel bends his neck, pecking your lips with a smile before he looks back toward his daughters walking back to the two of you.

Annoyance thumbs the bruise of shame, driving his frustrations higher; his hand reaches up again with a huff, yanking the string away from his neck, “Thing’s like a damn noose…”

“Jus’ take it off, hon, I’ll carry it for you,” you sweetly suggest, swinging your joined hands between your bodies.

“But, you got it for me…” he mumbles guiltily, a worry in his voice over your potential irritation with him. Ever the masochist, Joel argues with you, not wanting to disappoint. He knew he should have just kept his mouth shut—

Pausing in your steps, you hang behind him long enough to snatch the hat off his back, releasing it from around his neck and depositing it on your head in one smooth movement. Taking his hand again, you continue, unphased by his complaints and happy to hold onto the new accessory.

At the next house, the two of you wait at the end of the driveway for the girls; Joel taps the side of his pointer finger on the brim as you look up at him, a cheeky smile growing on his face as a thought distracts from his festering doubts. His voice lowers, rasping as he speaks only to you, attempting to disguise the conversation from all the people milling about.

“Y’know, there are consequences for stealing a cowboy’s hat, baby.” Wetting his lips with the quick swipe of his tongue, his hands drift to your waist, fingers stretching to skim the top of your ass, dangerously close to grabbing a handful in front of everyone.

“M’well aware of those consequences, cowboy. Why d’you think I took it?” You shoot him a wink that goes straight down below the belt, a brazen flash of mischief in your eyes, the reflections of yellow lamplight lighting them up further.

Gripping his biceps, your nimble fingers squeeze gently while your thumbs rub massaging circles into his slightly flexed muscles. A nearly inaudible hum of a moan rolls from your chest, one of his hands gathering the polyester material of your dress tightly at the sound. Beckoning him to fold forward with one look, he molds his lips to yours in a supple kiss. It lasts only the length of an inhale, drinking in the taste of your lips before your warmth is fleeting, hands patting his chest in a signal to wrap it up.

He grumbles, irritation heating under his collar as he itches to get home and for the night to be over, now for more than one reason. You laugh softly at his annoyed pout, poking his chest as you tease, “What? Mad ‘cause you got a snake in your boot?”

“More like in my jeans…” he mumbles under his breath, loud enough for you to hear and playfully jab his arm, shaking your head as you breathe out a chuckle from your nose.

“Nice, Miller. In a costume for a kid’s movie no less.”

He matches your laugh, shrugging when you turn in his arms, back to him as you await your daughters to make their way back to the both of you. His arms drape around your hips, tugging you into his chest to press against him comfortably, the plush-filled wings of your costume padding you against his torso. Lips find your ear, chin resting on your shoulder as he responds, “What’s the saying from the movie? To infinity and beyond? Reckon that’s where I’ll be takin’ you by the end of tonight.”

“Joel!” you attempted to chide, your laughter exposing your real feelings over the suggestive comment, laying your arms over his. The girls walk toward the two of you, and he takes a second to press an open-mouth kiss to your neck, nipping at your skin before unfurling himself from you. A light smack on the side of your ass is the punctuation to the teasing, Joel standing up straight and taking your hand.

“Giddy-up, partner,” he murmurs before turning his attention to Sarah and Ellie, overly excited and completely calm. “Whatcha y’all get this time? Anything good?”

They answer over each other and he nods along, corralling them to start to walk to the next house, “Alright, mission accomplished at this house. Onto the next, we gotta get this wagon a-movin’! Only got another hour in me, girls.”

Protests whine against his announcement and your daughters start to walk faster, determined to complete their hit-list for the houses with the good stuff. You laugh to yourself, shaking your head as Joel looks over at you, feigning innocence.

“What? Got a bad back, bein’ out in the cold makes it worse.”

Now back at home, the four of you are gathered in the living room, costumes all on still as you seek out the comfort and warmth of the soft furnishings and blankets. Joel lounges on the couch, you next to him, back leaning against his side while your legs stretch out on the rest of the sofa. Ellie and Sarah have taken to the floor in front of the coffee table, massive pillowcases dumped out and beginning to be sorted. Every so often, you or Joel get up with the sound of the doorbell, passing out candy to the dwindling number of trick-or-treaters. Eventually, the intrusion stops completely, the TV playing a bad, kitschy Halloween movie per the request of the girls.

They trade their earnings, and you and Joel steal on the sly, both from the bowl you were handing out and from Sarah and Ellie’s piles. Wrappers are strewn around the floor and across the surface of the coffee table, the sound of another torn open by the girls making you sigh and sit up.

Holding out your hand, you shake your head, beckoning for the treat with your fingers, “Okay, Ellie. No more candy. You’re not going to be able to go to sleep if you keep eating it now, it’s too late.”

Ellie whines, rolling her head back with a groan before pleading her case, “Please, Mom, just this last one! And then I’ll be done, promise. Please.”

Joel chuckles when she shoots you the same puppy dog eyes that he gives to you to get what he wants, knowing his smirk grows wider when you fold easily. Shooting your head over to him, you announce to the whole room, “No more candy for anyone. C’mon girls, put it all back in your bags.”

Calmness finds itself back in the room once all the complaints are lodged with you, the girls lying down to watch the movie while you continue to sit with Joel. Spaced out as he focuses on the film, his attention is grabbed when he hears the crinkle of wrappers and glances around to find all three of his girls indulging further.

With the remote from his lap, he pauses the movie, pouting as he exclaims, “Hey! What happened to not havin’ any more candy? If I can’t have anymore, y’all can’t either.”

Sneaking the last bite of her fun-size Snickers bar, Ellie giggles and shrugs, always the smart aleck, “Well, you are gettin’ a little pudgy, Dad, maybe less candy’ll help.”

Sarah and you giggle at her lighthearted teasing, and Joel waves it off with a breathy chuckle, leaning back against the cushions as Sarah chimes in with her jests, “Yeah, think you’re getting a little fluffy, Dad. Better to lay off now than at Christmastime with all Mom’s cookies.”

Joel attempts to defend himself from the teasing by threatening their candy supply, eager to end the conversation as the back of his neck heats up, “If m’already gettin’ pudgy then I guess that permits me to eat all your candy.”

They both are in a fit of giggles, continuing to tack on silly comments as Joel sits quietly on the couch, trying to mask the way the words worm their way in, feeding the shame and insecurity that was already festering in his chest from the last few weeks.

You roll your eyes, shaking your head with a smile as you laugh softly, “Alright, alright, enough. Think that’s the sign that it’s time for bed. C’mon, up up up.” Before standing, you pat Joel’s thigh and shoot him a carefully concerned look, but he wipes away your worry by sending you a warm smile back, laying his hand over yours and squeezing gently.

Joel stays downstairs to clean up, the girls both saying goodnight before you follow them upstairs to get them ready for bed. Gathering candy wrappers in his fists, he throws them away in the kitchen, stomach rolling as he replays the small comments from minutes ago. He knows it was teasing, all in good fun as it always is between his girls and you, but he can’t shake the heaviness inside of him, the hot prickles of shame when he passes by the mirror in the hallway on his way back to the living room.

The bowl of extra candy you were handing out gets placed back on the coffee table, his silly cowboy hat from the evening deposited on top of it to hide the contents. Not that he was going to eat anymore, he couldn’t stomach even the thought of anything else when all he could think about was how much he desperately wanted to shed his skin at that moment. Breathing shallows when he settles on the couch again, one of his hands pressing onto the left side of his chest and willing his heart to slow down, for his brain to silence itself.

The skin of his palm meets the scruff of his beard, scratching against the roughened, worked skin. Grays in his hair, salt and pepper beard, wrinkles on his forehead and at the side of his eyes, softened tummy from years of love and care, from an easy life with you.

He certainly isn’t the same Joel that you met all that time ago, that you fell in love with. Have you noticed the changes as much as he has?

He swears you haven’t aged a day; all the more beautiful with each passing day.

Light steps carry you back downstairs, the sound shaking Joel out of his thoughts as you swing around from the staircase and through the entrance to the living room. Joel relaxes on the couch, the same spot he was occupying before, only sinking further into the cushion, shifting to pull the fabric of his shirt away from his stomach. Glancing up at you, away from whatever was playing on the TV that did nothing to distract him from himself, he sends you a tight smile, stretching an arm over the back of the couch to welcome you in.

Accepting it, you sit next to him, curling up into his side with your legs under you, leaning against his frame with your comforting weight. Your hand rests on his chest, your head on his shoulder while you both watch the TV movie playing. Silence falls between the two of you, minutes passing by with only the noise from the speakers, the volume turned low so as not to disturb the kids upstairs.

Joel feels your hand move against his chest, curling up to leave your pointer finger extended, the pad of it skimming against his flannel. He ignores the feeling, figuring it’s you fidgeting as you do while you focus. The same thing as twirling your hair while you’re reading, tapping your foot as you cook.

But when your hand stairs to wander, his eyes flick down to watch its path, your gaze still facing forward and quiet. With your thumb and index finger, you work open the first button on his shirt, trailing down with the rest undone in your route. Slipping under the material, your cold hand presses against his chest, nails scraping against the skin there. With a sigh at the contact, Joel finally uses his hand to gently caress your chin, turning you to face him.

Low and rasping, he questions, “What are you doin’ exactly, darlin’?”

Innocently, you shrug, bottom lip bit down on while your touch moves lower again, skimming across his stomach and reaching the waistband of his jeans, “Well, I still have to face the consequences from stealin’ your hat, cowboy.”

Fingers dip below his belt line, toying with the elastic band of his boxers. Slipping away, he almost protests at the loss, biting his tongue when you move next to him, sitting up on your knees while both hands reach for the button and zipper of his jeans. When his button pops from its secure place, he warns with a breathy exhale, “Baby…”

“Mhm, yes, honey?” you reply, words trailing up at the end, feigning naivety. Through your lashes, you send him a pout, tongue poking out to dampen your plush lips that he stares at, his mouth parted with heavy breaths. His blood is rushing from his head, leaving him feeling light, as it all pumps to his cock, your delicate and teasing touches getting him half-hard.

Before you can tug down his zipper, you pause, taking your hands off of him; he holds back a whimper, the sound dying as a low hum in his throat.

“Don’t worry, baby, m’not done yet. Let’s go to our room, yeah?” Your voice is soothingly saccharine, an eager nod being his only response.

Shutting off the TV, you stand from the sofa and take his hand, snatching the cowboy hat from the coffee table before pulling him to stand and follow you across the main floor, down the hallway into your first-floor bedroom. Joel shuts the door behind him, your nod toward the handle serving as a reminder for him to flick the lock.

“Y’know, honey, you’re always showing me how you feel about me. I think it’s time we had a night that’s all about you…” He’s holding in a breath as you stalk closer to him, shaking his head as the back of his neck heats up.

“No, baby, you don’t—I don’t…” he stutters before trailing off, ashamed that he can’t think of any other excuse than the truth of why he does not want the attention on him tonight.

“You don’t…?” Running your hands across the expanse of his chest, he drops his shoulders in, curling around to make himself smaller, one foot stepping back but he doesn’t move from under your touch.

Shaking his head, he avoids your eyes, faintly confiding, “I don’t feel like I deserve it. I jus’, I’d rather give to you, baby.”

“Oh, Joel…you deserve it and more, honey. Why wouldn’t you?” Your fingers graze up, skating across his skin and carding into the hair at the nape of his neck.

“I’m not…not the same. I don’t look like who you fell in love with. Everything’s changing, catching up to me. Got gray hair and white in my beard and wrinkles and a beer belly startin’ and my back hurts all the time. M’not who I used to be but you—”

“Have changed, too. It’s not just you, Joel. Everything’s a little softer now, I’ve got wrinkles too. Found like four gray hairs yesterday and had a mild panic attack before I got into the shower. M’curvier and—”

“And you’re fucking beautiful, baby. You’re as beautiful, if not more beautiful than the day I met you.” He’s quick to defend your negative self-talk, his hands running delicately along the curves of your sides and around your lower back. Enveloping you in his arms, he presses your foreheads together, nose notched next to yours.

“That’s exactly how I feel about you, Joel. Don’t listen to us teasin’ you, especially me, ‘cause I wouldn’t change a thing about you…” As you tilt your head back, your nose grazes against his cheek, feeling a rush of heat from your breath as your lips hover over his, deliciously close to a kiss, “Can I show you what I think about you, honey?”

Joel nods, wordlessly waiting in anticipation; in the next breath, your lips crash into his, drinking him down deep while the hand at the back of his head tangles further into his hair and tugs. He moans, parted lips allowing you to lick into his mouth, whining at the taste of him before you push the flannel material from his shoulders, letting it drop to the floor as you continue to dominate the kiss.

Pressing your hands against his strong chest, you push him back with a step. Joel follows your lead, carefully moving backward, your tongue melding with his. All he can focus on is the taste of you — sweet, fruity, with the tang of citric acid from all the sour candies you stole from the bowl, the softest hint of chocolate as an aftertaste from his indulgences. The flavors of you coat his mouth, the scent of your perfume and shampoo mixing in his nose, and the feeling of your soft skin in his rough palms when he hikes up the skirt of your dress, grabbing a handful of your ass; it all stirs together, creating an intoxicating cocktail of you that he can seem to taste enough of. Joel’s legs hit the edge of the bed, and he’s being pulled away from your mouth with a pop when you ease him to sit down. Curiosity flashes in his mind, the sight of you over him with kiss-swollen lips growing the bulge in his undone jeans. Eager hands find your hips, grazing over to your ass as he looks up at you standing over him.

“Whatcha wanna do, beautiful?” His voice is lecherous as it comes out in a rasp, dripping with desire and a bit of wonder over what exactly you’re going to do with your night in control.

You shake your head at him, standing up straight and reaching for his hands, placing them at the hem of your dress, “Go ahead, baby. Take off as much as you want.”

His choice is obvious, tugging the fabric over your head with your help, a hand around your back yanking you to stand close, between his spread legs, while his fingers work open the clasp of your bra. Sitting back on his hands, he observes greedily as you let the straps fall down your arms, dropping the bra entirely onto the floor.

“These too?” Your thumbs hook into the waistline of your panties, doe-eyed and biting down on your body lip teasingly. Cotton-mouthed, Joel nods slowly, lips parted with shaking breath as you strip completely, sinking to your knees in front of him before he can reach out for a handful of your curves.

He lets you work his jeans down to his thighs, his boxers following in their wake, his cock springing free against his bare stomach. You keep eye contact as you kneel in front of him, his keen stare unblinking as his tongue pokes out to wet his lips, the need to see every single one of your movements outweighing the drying of his eyes with his slow, infrequent blinking. Scooting to settle comfortably on your knees, you stand up straighter, gaining enough height to bend your head over his lap, lips meeting his soft tummy and hands gripping onto his thighs. Delicate kisses and ghosting touches on his skin raise goosebumps, a warm shudder trickling down his back at your tenderness.

“So handsome…” you whisper, grazing your teeth into the flesh of his torso, biting down to nip. “Y’know I think about doin’ this all the time, baby. Every time you take off your shirt, jus’ wanna sink my teeth into you.”

His cheeks heat with sincere attention, muscles in his abdomen flexing when you litter lovebites and heated, open-mouth kisses all over him, the gentle touches and desire to relax his anxieties slowly. The focus on your mouth drops to his thighs, turning your head to the side when you sit back on your haunches, licking a stripe up toward his aching cock, a quivering exhale from his mouth drawing your eyes to his face. A satisfied smile stretches across your face, kissing his inner thigh before mirroring the actions on the opposite side. His fingers curl into the duvet, gripping hard as your lips wander closer to where his stiff cock drips needily, throbbing for any kind of reprieve.

“You’re so pretty, baby. So strong, solid.” The sweet nothings tickle at the back of his neck, words that he’s sure you’ve spoken before, but at this moment, they raise his body temperature and lighten his head, the only thoughts being how much he needs you.

Standing on your knees again, you bend your neck over Joel’s lap, eyes flickering up to his face to look at him through your lashes. Your lips part, spit dribbling from your mouth and onto his waiting cock, the sensation making him hiss with urgency. One of your hands wraps around him and strokes slowly. He looks down at you with hooded eyes, mouth opening in a small gasp at the languid stimulation. One swipe of your thumb across his tip drags the beads of pre-cum from where they’re leaking, melting them into the mix of your saliva that lubricates your motions.

Searing needles pierce into his skin when you finally give in and press hot, open-mouthed kisses against the soft skin of his swollen length. Your thumb brushes against his tip again, another hiss of pleasure escaping from between his teeth. One of Joel’s hands finds the back of your head, tangling fingers into your hair. He doesn’t move to guide you, simply wanting to touch a part of you to ground himself.

Your free hand gently cups his balls as you press a featherlight kiss to the tip of his hard cock. A kitten-lick swipes up the fresh dribbles of pre-cum that have collected and Joel’s fingers tense against your strands. Humming satisfied with the reactions you’re drawing from him, he looks down at you meeting his gaze, feeling the splotches of redness growing across his cheeks and neck at the frustration of your light teasing. He groans out your name as your mouth works to tease him more, not having taken him fully in.

“Fucking hell, baby, quit teasin’, please.” Joel rasps as he watches your methodical seduction. He applies the smallest pressure against the back of your head when your lips finally wrap around just the tip of him, a moan of relief rolling from his chest.

Your eyes stay glued on his face, and he’s lost in the delicious warmth of your mouth, unabashed in every response that he’s having to your mouth working him. Starting a slow bob up and down, he moans at the weight of him on your tongue, saliva coating the underside of his cock as he feels you curl the muscle against every vein. With half of him with your mouth, your hand working what isn’t initially fitting inside. His noises grow louder and in quicker succession, hyperaware that his cheeks are likely visibly warm and eyes dark with a craving when he looks down at you again.

“Such a sweet girl. Look so pretty with my cock in your little mouth. Think you can take more, baby? Think I can fit in your throat?” You shift in your position slightly, thighs rubbing together and a chuckle rolls from his lips, smug in the need he’s drawing from you simply from enjoying his pleasure. A sigh exhales around him in your mouth as your thighs rub together to relieve some of your aches.

The rhythm of your head brings his cock deeper, his tip brushing the back of your throat. You swallow around him and it squeezes him just right, a loud moan rumbling from his chest, the reverberations sending aftershocks to the tips of his ears. At that point, he gets lost in the high feeling, his composure leaving him when his large hand at the back of your head pushes you down onto his cock, taking him down your throat further and causing you to gag. Tears spill from your eyes and spit drips from the sides of your mouth, the blow job quickly turning sloppy as Joel takes more control.

“Fucking hell, darlin’. Taking me so well on your own, being such a good girl for me,” he whines, heading tilting back as his eyes squeeze shut, shallow thrusts meeting the rhythm of your head. “Gonna fuckin’ come, baby, holy fuck, I—”

A moan around him gurgles to nothing when he thrusts again, hand tangled in your hair pulling you back until his tip rests against your lips, “Don’t wanna—please—” His words are lost on the tip of his tongue, pleasure hazing his mind as he searches for the plea he wants to make with you.

You giggle from your knees, swiping your fingers to wipe away the drool from the corners of your mouth, a satisfied smirk on your face. Bracing yourself on his thighs, you push yourself up, standing in between his legs while your hands find his shoulders, scraping your fingernails against the curve of them.

“You wanna come inside of me? Not my mouth? Is that what you were trying to say, baby?”

“Yes,” he exhales, relieved to find the word he needed, blinking open his eyes to look up at you. Your thumb skates across his bottom lip, holding onto his jaw as you study his features.

“I’ll give you whatever you want, Joel. Anything for my perfect, doting husband. D’you know how fucking good it makes me feel to make you feel good?” you question curiously, tilting his head as he lets you mold him whichever way you want. “Tell me how you deserve to have me like this. ‘Cause you’re so fucking good to me, tell me that you’re gonna let me fuck you, let me take your come inside of me.”

“Baby, I don’t think that—” he starts, palms pressing into the backs of your thighs as he looks up at you.

“Tell me, Joel. You said you wanted to be the one giving to me tonight. That’s what I want.” You use his earlier, shy request against his negative thoughts, and the intensity in your eyes bends him to your will.

“M’gonna let you have my cock, gonna let you fuck me and show me how much you love when I take care of you.” The words roll foreignly on his tongue, unconvincing coming from his mind to his mouth. You bend a knee, bringing it up to rest next to his thigh, nodding along to encourage him to continue, “I give you whatever I can give to you, and always gonna, baby. Now’s your turn to take care of me, right?”

“That’s right, honey. I should show you how much I appreciate you more often…you work so hard, give us exactly what we need, and provide for us. My big, strong man. You do so much for me, baby. Gonna show you how thankful I am for you, how grateful I am that you’re lettin’ me have this cock,” your words breathe hot against his ear, your other leg now straddling him on the bed, cunt hovering over his waiting cock. A hand leaves his shoulders, reaching between your stomachs to wrap around him, guiding him to your entrance. His breath catches in his throat when you ease down onto him, pushing through the wet seal of your slit.

Wet heat envelopes him, taking in a few inches of him; Joel groans under you, head falling forward onto your breasts, forehead pressed into your sticky skin. One hand tangles into his curls, dragging his head back to look into your eyes. Your hips start to move, adjusted to his size easily and taking more of his cock, letting it split you open inch-by-inch. His eyes wildly search yours, seeing the pleasure overtake your mind, lips parting to match his as you both breathe out shallow, hot breaths.

“Fuck, Joel, so fucking big…” you whine for the first time tonight and the sound goes straight to his cock, twitching him inside of you as his hips jerk up, giving you another inch. Lust clouds his mind, nodding confidently as you take him, desperate to feel your tight, dripping cunt around him entirely.

“I know, baby, I know. Should’ve let me get you ready. But I bet you like the stretch, like a lil’ bit of pain, huh?” he coos, arm snaking around you to hold you closer, your eyes fluttering closed above him as you nod languidly.

“Fuckin’ love it, makes it feel even better,” you whimper when his arm tugs you down further, only an inch or two away from him being fully sheathed.

“C’mon, be my good girl, baby. Show me how you sit on my cock.” He leans forward, bending you backward with his force and holding you tight, his lips attaching to the soft, velvety skin of your breasts and biting, “Gotta face your punishment for stealin’ my hat. Take a cowboy’s hat, gotta ride the cowboy, babygirl. I don’t make the rules.”

You giggle, eyes clearing as you’re pulled out of your cloud of pleasure, gripping onto his shoulders and holding eye contact as you finally sink completely down, burying Joel’s cock inside your soaked pussy. Moans echo in the room, bitten down before they get too loud, your hips immediately finding a quick, sloppy pace to chase your highs. The slick glide of your walls grip his cock lusciously, your flooding arousal coating his balls as thighs as you ride him. Little noises slip from your mouth, simmering the coals burning in the base of his gut as he feels the familiar bliss building.

“Is this what I’m supposed to be doin’, cowboy?” you wonder, hips continuing their pace and mouth twisting as you hide a smile. Joel is unashamed, a wide grin on his face as he unravels one arm from you, picking up the hat from the corner post of the bed, and setting it loosely on top of your head. Giggles erupt from the both of you, your pace faltering as the muscles in his stomach cramp from use.

Recovering from the interlude, your thighs rub against the outside of his as you bounce, nails digging into his shoulders as your rhythm picks back up, the slap of skin against skin the only noise save for your airy breaths that get shallower and shallower. Flames have ignited in his gut, licking inside and burning hotter and hotter the closer he gets. Nearly at the edge, he needs more, body taking over and lifting you with him as he stands, holding you up on his cock as he thrusts hard and quick into you, dripping for him and gripping him tight to keep yourself up while he fucks into you.

“Oh—fuck, Joel! Right there, m’gonna—oh!” Your desperate pleas in his ear pitch up as you moan, cunt tightening with a flutter around him as you come, soaking his dick as he continues his hard pace, selfishly chasing his high.

A growl rolls from his chest when you come, his fingernails biting into the flesh of your ass, the slap of his balls against your skin as they draw up. His eyes squeeze shut as he moans your name, the first rope of his come released into your cunt, smaller whimpers following in its wake as he fucks one, twice more, filling you up as deep as he can.

Limbs feeling heavy, he turns you both around, pulling you off of him and dropping you gently onto the mattress. He flops down next to you onto his stomach, blissfully out of it as you move to straddle his back, fingers working the knots and soothing the aches growing there after a long week of work, and a night spent corralling your kids.

The warm press of your body against his back makes him hum contently, your breasts at his shoulder blades as you lay on him, one of his hands reaching the rub his fingers softly against the outside of your thigh.

“You know I think you’re the most handsome, right, honey?” you ask with a hint of worry in your voice, barely above a whisper. He nods, rolling over to his back underneath you and meeting your eyes, brow furrowed with concern.

“I know, baby. Jus’ was feeling weird this whole week. You made it a lot better, though.” A knuckle nudges your cheek, and you take the hat off, Joel chuckling again as you throw it off to the side of the bed. Laying down on him again, he strokes your hair while you hug yourself to his torso, both your eyes and his fluttering shut with exhaustion, from tonight and life in general.

Before drifting off, Joel speaks up, cheekily asking, “So…can I wear this costume next year, too?”

taglist: @atinylittlepain @swiftispunk @joelsversion @mrsquill @ilovepedro @lovers-liability @deathwife @undrthelights @atticrissfinch @casa-boiardi @wannab-urs @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @fishingforpike @msjarvis @walkintotheriveranddisappear @sugadolly @yazsos @peppesgirl @pastawench @addictedtotlou @brittmb115 @anoverwhelmingdin @spishsstuff @wolfbook87 @mswarriorbabe80 @harriedandharassed @decemberdolly @laiisleitte @fierce-bab @vickie5446 @pertinentpostmortem @livingdeadmaria @sullyosully @bitchwitch1981 @its-nebuleuse @marini03 @piercethevic03 @joeandpedrosimp @planet-marz1 @txtattoostark @jrosie25 @tbniarq @vee-bees-blog @thereaperisabitch @spidermanfrog @belliezz @joelsflannel @cartoon-garbage04 @bianqueee04 @nostalxgic @xyzstar @cumberpegg @b00klvrs @burningnerdchild

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iamtheblankety · 1 year

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♥Little Moment Gif♥

Ominis' spell practice session gets interrupted. Haha, I can hear the 'tsk, really Sebastian..." in his voice. I feel like Sebastian would be someone who just barges into a room with something he wants.

Going to be a bit of a long post because some of these frames I really liked and have commentary, haha.

Look at Sebastian pulling off a kabedon, lol he would. I also like the single frame of Ominis practicing, a very soft candid moment of him.

These next two frames I feel describe Ominis' attitude towards Sebastian's lack of decorum haha, and Seb looks so dejected XD.

And a good necktie grab and welcoming tongue, lol there's something so demanding in it. I can almost hear Sebastian giggle to himself.

And of course both of them get what they want haha.

These last frames weren't in the original segment, but decided to include them! They're not as refined, but I think they close out the moment ^^

And I left a lot of the scenario and dialogue up to the imagination. If anyone wants to fill in or write something for it, please feel free to do so! Please excuse any mistakes, I drew these fairly quickly, just keeping it rough and fun! And thanks to everyone at @ghosteelyfe discord for the energy! I hope you enjoy these because I had a blast making it!

✨Several people have asked if I can post some of the still frames as separate posts and I can do that! :D Thank you all for such lovely comments!

#sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #sebastian x ominis #sebastian sallow x ominis gaunt #sebinis #gauntlow #gaullow #fanart #slice of life #Sebastian being a brat #Ominis just wanted to practice lol #gif #teeny bit of spice #giving ominis blissful face because he deserves it

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sybaritick · 9 months

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Absolutely thrilled to have stumbled across your 1972 security council rp tag. Legitimately exciting to know someone is into such a thing! If it's not too strange / personal to ask, would you be able to elaborate on what that entails and what's appealing about that specific rp for you? I'm curious but I can't quite get my head around it

I love talking about this stuff, so thanks for asking! I'm aware it's very weird but I think the reasoning behind it is surprisingly normal (in terms of how kinks develop).

I've explained this to a few friends on Discord so I will use those screenshots to assist me in this presentation.

so the backdrop to all of this is that I love to play the bad guy. As a small child in play-pretend games I would want to be the villain. I liked to be "it" during tag. As long as it's within the confines of a game/everyone knows we're just playing, I just like to be scary :)

But with this particular kink, I'm pretty sure it comes from some particular affecting experiences I had as a young teenager. I wrote my first Hetalia fanfic when I was 12 and then was very involved in model UN starting at age ~14. (I was really competitive about it and ended up even getting to a national competition once in high school, lol).

as a pretty weird teenage girl (now trans man) lot of my first experiences having crushes, or having someone else have a crush on me, were at model UN events. It let me feel powerful (because I was good at it) and I realized that having others act like I was powerful and threatening (in this ultimately harmless LARP type situation) was really hot to me.

(many such stories...)

I loved playing the US diplomat when I got to because obviously you get to play evil puppetmaster world power so I would lean into that and have fun with it.

The period of history I connected to most in terms of US interventionism was the Nixon era, just because there were so many examples during that period of the US trying to control the rest of the world. I ended up reading some Kissinger biographies (Kissinger by Walter Isaacson and Nixon and Kissinger: Partners in Power by Robert Dallek) when I was 18-19 and it really just cemented my obsession with the incredible harm he was able to cause and just how much of an affect he had on US foreign policy.

I'm particularly interested in economic coercion/the IMF and World Bank as instruments of US hegemony. Actually...

but ofc it's not just the 1970s, I like fantastical modern scenarios too:

(removed my boyfriend's name, sure it's just a first name but do they really wanna be in this post)

so yeah! tl;dr: it's a power thing, I like it in a D/s way. I got some wires crossed in my brain and "I like when people act scared of me [sexual]" became associated with "I like when people act scared of me because they're aware of the rotten machine of US global hegemony that lurks behind my words [sexual apparently]"

#cal txt #personal #politics #1972 nixon national security council rp tag #asks #madamechatterlaine

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luvfy0dor · 13 days

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Helloo! I love your blog smm! could I request fyodor with a child reader that’s very curious about things and often ask him about lots of things and do often run from his sight cause they saw something that peaks their interests? ^^ so sorry that this request was kinda long 😭

“But Satisfaction Brought It Back ♡⁠˖” Dad!Fyodor w/ Child! Reader ੈ✩‧₊˚

Warnings; none

Description; Fyodor brings curious child!reader to the park, but after being essentially exiled from the playground by some randos, reader sees something moving in the grass and chooses to investigate

A/n: I'M SO SORRY THIS TOOK ME SO LONG I FEEL AWFIL, I HIPW ITS ACCEPTABLE AT LEAST </3 THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE COMPLIMENTS

Headcannons;

★ Fyodor loves that you're curious, but sometimes the amount of questions you ask makes him wonder if your jaw ever gets tired from moving so much. He knows you didn't get that trait from him.

★ If you run away from him, he's walking after you at the fastest speed possible for him. He warns you not to go far because his stamina doesn't allow him to chase after you, but you still do it and it gets on his nerves a little. He knows you don't mean to, but it stresses him out like no other.

★ He often lets Nikolai tag along when he brings you to do fun stuff just in case he ends up needing the extra hand, and Nikolais ability is always great to bring you back to them.

Scenario;

You had one hand in Nikolais and one in Fyodors, happily walking along with them through a park near your home on a beautiful spring afternoon. They decided to have tea together earlier and figured it was a nice day for an outing. They picked you up and brought you to the park and sat on a bench next to one another while you ran off to climb on the playground. It didn't take long for you to socialize, immediately interacting with a girl your age. "Hey, you! Yeah, you with the blue shirt. You're not allowed up here, you don't have the password." You looked at the girl with confusion, grimacing and crossing your arms. "Well it's not your playground, I'm allowed up here if I want to! My papa brought me to play and that's what I'm gonna do." You reply, your eyebrows furrowed and a visible pout on your face.

"That's too bad! Scurry along, you peasant!" She sneered. It made you want to cry a little, but you bit your lip and stormed off. A small group of kids who seemed to be apart of her posse watched. You huffed and went to sit with your papa and uncle, plopping down on the bench. Fyodor and Nikolai instantly picked up on your sad demeanor. "Aw, what's wrong, Malyshka? Are you alright?" He asked, a hand rubbing your back sweetly. You nodde d and leaned into him, making him frown. "C'mon, kiddo, I'll play with ya if you'd like! We're those other brats mean to you?" He asks, bending down to your level. You shook your head and rubbed the oncoming tears out of your eyes. "No, they weren't..I'll go play again in a second, I just fell." Nikolai stands back up and rubs your head. "Alright, if that's what you'd like." He returns to Fyodors side, resuming their conversation. Fyodors comforting hand remained on your shouder for awhile before you decided to get back up. "M'going to play again, papa." You declared, humbly walking back over to the playground and settling for the swings. You sat down and started swinging your legs back and forth, watching the nature around you. You weren't too high in the air before you saw a something moving through the grass across the park. You dragged your feet to come to a halt and walked away from the swing set.

The closer you got, you could tell that the moving thing was actually a large, brown rabbit. Your eyes widened with excitement and you approached it further, following it through a patch of brush. The rabbit noticed you and jumped further into the woods, over logs and rocks. You followed it continuously, stumbling over the aforementioned obstacles trying to reach it. It was about this time where Fyodor noticed that the swing was sitting nearly perfectly still without you on it and his eyes immediately darted around the playground. When he couldn't find you, he called out your name, drawing the attention of the attention of the other kids. "I think I saw someone go down there." The girl from earlier pointed towards the woods. Fyodor cursed under his breath and made his way towards the forest as quickly as possible with Nikolai. "Y/n! Come back here!" He called out for you, worried and annoyed all at once. You had successfully pounced on the bunny, holding it in your arms and heading towards Nikolai and your papa again. You had now been satisfied in catching the rodent, an innocent expression on your face when your papa came into view. The rabbit was squirming in your grasp, but you held him out to your father.

"Papa, Uncle Nikolai, look what I caught!" Fyodor let's out a sigh of relief but places a hand on your back and guides you back to the playground. "Let that filthy animal go, sweetheart, it's probably diseased, and you cannot keep running off like that! I was worried sick, don't do that ever again." He says, a hand over his heart. You reluctantly let the rabbit go, turning to watch it dash off. "I'm sorry papa.." you mumble, grabbing at his cape. He sighs. "It's not fine, but I'm more happy that I found you than I am angry at you." He says, Nikolai nods in agreement. You sigh in relief and go to sit down on the bench, but Fyodor pulls you right back up by your shirt, like a kitten by the scruff. "No, you're going home to wash those rodent germs off of your hands, and then you're gonna pick up your bedroom while your at it." He says. You groan and accept the light punishment he gave. "Yes papa..." You weren't to upset about it all in all, because he could have been harsher on you, especially since you've repeatedly done this, but instead he only wanted you to clean your room; leaving the park and those mean kids behind isnt a loss in the slightest.

A/n; again I'm so sorry if this is bad, I feel horrible for it being so late but I'm locking in on my reqs now yall istg

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parvulous-writings · 4 months

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Oooh, I have a request idea!! How about Gale, Halsin, Astarion and Wyll or Karlach (if that's not too many ;-;) with a modern S/O from our world that makes them try a bunch of food from this dimension. I'd love to see their reaction to trying Soda or other Carbonated Beverages, and naturally seeing everyone's reaction to canned food - especially the kind that stays in the exact shape of the can even after you dump it into a bowl 🤣

Just imagine giving them this bad boy and being like "Bon appetit!" :D

I like to think they'd be horrified 🥰 Thank you so much !!

Summary: I do love me a little whimsical AU, I can't lie - so this MAY go into the realms of silly, but you know what? It's going to be fun! It also may be a bit all over the place... but you know what I think it fits XD The scenario is kinda the same for all of them - I hope that's okay!

Warnings: Some are a bit shorter/longer than others! Other than that... I don't think there's anything!

Notes: My requests are currently open! My pinned post (found here) contains both a list of characters I write for, and a masterlist! Original character list - please request for these too!

Gale

Out of everyone, Gale would probably be the most at-ease with you coming from another realm - he finds it absolutely fascinating.

He's asking questions all the time - is there magic in your universe? No?? What do you do, then??

You tell him about technology, and he is hooked. You start talking about electricity and immediately he's taking notes (mental or physical).

"I think I might actually have something you can try, Gale" you pull out of your pack a can of Coke (that somehow had survived the trip), and a tin of cranberry sauce that you had hoped to take home, before being whisked away to the land of Faerun. You offer him the can, and he just stares at it for a moment, observing it.

"And... what is this, exactly?" "It's a drink." "I fail to see how-" click "... Ah"

Isn't sure how the bubbles feel on his tongue - he almost spits out the drink the first mouthful he has. Doesn't mind the taste itself though - he would probably drink it flat, if he had the choice to.

"It's... Nice..." He seems mildly uncertain of this statement. "Though, I think I will stick to wine, and water..."

You telling him you can preserve food in metal near indefinitely? Pure 'teach me' moment. He will want to know EVERY secret on that front.

The tin of sauce confuses him. You tell him that it's sauce and he's eager to taste it - he's always on the look out for new flavours, as the self-declared cook in camp. Fish and potatoes can only keep you going for so long, until your tongue starts craving a new flavour.

When you present the unchanging... thing to him, he has no idea what to make of it. "That's... Not sauce. In fact, I don't even think that's edible - that looks like a health hazard."

He straight up refuses to use it that night, like he will not go near it, nor will he let it near the food.

Halsin

Halsin doesn't really talk about you being from another realm all that much - it doesn't overly concern him, now that you've got his trust.

He likes hearing stories of your life -even though you have to explain 90% of what you talk about to him, he's always eagerly listening to whatever you have to say.

Will not touch anything in a can - drink or otherwise.

"I... Do not feel right in trying this... my apologies."

You will not be able to convince him, whatever you try and do, he just... Doesn't want to listen to anything about that. If you keep trying to push him on the subject, he'll probably end up just walking away.

Though he's aware that preserving foods is probably a good idea for the long run, but after having heard the fizz from the can of coke? That's... A no go, for the time being.

Astarion

Astarion couldn't care less where you came from - so long as you're not going to stab him in the back, he's fine with you. You could be a crawling claw for all he cares - so long as you don't hurt him he really does not care.

Astarion doesn't typically eat anything other than his usual sanguine meals now that his affliction is out in the camp. This doesn't stop him from making snide comments on the food, though. And he makes especially snide comments when it comes to drinks - which he still partakes in quite happily.

"What do you mean... Fizzy?" His lips draw up slightly in a half-sneer, not being particularly drawn to the idea of... Whatever it was you were offering him. Though, he supposed, because it was you... He'd give it a go.

He manages to keep the beverage in his mouth after a sip, but the face he makes is beyond a grimace - clearly, he was not expecting that many bubbles.

Now when it came to the tinned sauce - or any tinned food for that matter... He'll simply laugh. "Now, I know we're short on supplies, darling, but... I don't think you'll get anyone to eat that." "Let me put it this way... If something like that was for my meal, I'd be running for the hills! ... And probably washing my mouth out with soap..."

"I am so glad I do not have to pretend I'm eating with you... Because that-" He points emphatically to the can-shaped food. "Would not, and will not, be going anywhere near my lips!"

Wyll

Wyll is curious about the realm you come from, but doesn't normally pry. He figures that, if you're going to reveal anything about your home land, you'll do it in your own time, when you're comfortable. If you start talking about your home and your life, Wyll will do the same, to show that he's not taking the conversation for granted.

Wyll actually LIKES carbonated beverages. He savours the feel on his tongue - it's like nothing else he's ever had before, and he's instantly wanting more. If you ever do figure out the realm-hopping thing, you'll have to bring him some more - possibly some different brands or flavours for him to try.

"So... These beverages... They can... Taste of flowers, and other delightful things?" Wyll hums pleasantly at this thought. "Well, I know we have... Similar things, here in Faerun, but I am most intrigued on your realms' flavours... As pleasant as it all can be, you can only handle so much of the same..."

Though canned food doesn't.... Really seem appealing to him, he'll still give it a good try! He's down to try any food at least once.

He's not keen on the appearance of the cranberry sauce, but he has some with some turkey you've roasted, and he's in love with the taste. Sure, the appearance could use some work, but beggars can't always be choosers - at least it tasted delicious!

Absolutely LOVES tinned vegetables. He's not sure why - he knows they've got a very different taste and texture to their fresher counterpart, but... There's just something about them that he can't get enough of. Tinned carrots especially.

If you give him the chance - and Gale for once isn't trying to make dinner - Wyll will try and find a way to include tinned foods. He will get everyone to like them, he's certain of it.

Karlach

Karlach LOVES hearing anything and everything about your home realm - from the mundane to the even mundane-r. You have a special tub to bathe in, not made from wood? And it has running water, like a river, that you can control?? That's one of the coolest things Karlach has heard of - and she longs for a way to try and bring that kind of plumbing to Faerun.

Karlach isn't fussed on the Coke can you offer her - she'll drink it, for sure, but if there's the option of another drink, then she'll probably opt for that first. Purely for the reason that it's a relatively new sensation compared to the other kinds of fizzy found in drinks across Faerun.

Like, fermentation has a kick, but in comparison, carbonation is a roar, that Karlach needs a little adjusting to - she has the best reaction out of the lot of them, I think.

"Whoo- that's... Hah, that's something, soldier... And how often do you drink this? Once a day? ... Several? Several cans of this a day?" She laughs quietly, shaking her head. "You're braver than me at some things, soldier."

However, when it comes to tinned food... She loves it. She's not even sure why - perhaps it's just the fact that she loves food. You show her the sauce first, and she doesn't even bat an eye at the fact that the sauce had retained the shape of the can. She sniffs at it, before just picking it up and taking a bite.

"A little sharp... But not bad!" Another bite. "You're meant to eat that with meat, Karlach," "Huh? .... Ah, well - still tastes good like this!"

She's not as fond of tinned veggies, but she'll still eat them. Normally dinner will now start with. "Aw, what? Don't we have anymore of that red stuff?"

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sweet-honey-fruit · 2 years

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I saw you were asking for a request so I thought of something. What would the harbingers (Dottore, Pantalone, Tartaglia, Capitano, Arlecchino) do if someone hurt they're s/o to get information about them? Have a nice day btw :D

This this THIS! I’m a sucker for these kinds of things. It’s definitely a guilty pleasure of mine with these scenarios. Thank you for this, I had a lot of fun writing it!

Harbingers With Hurt S/O

Warnings: Violence, mentions/descriptions of torture and death, use of pet names, possibly OOC Capitano cause there’s literally little to no information about him, spoilers for Fatui Harbingers lore

Arlecchino

She doesn’t want to admit how badly her heart ached when she saw you walk in battered in wounds and bruises. Yet you still greeted her with a bright smile.

All she did was stare at you with a blank look on her face, wrapping her arms around you and giving you a kiss on the top of your head

You held a special place in her heart, so seeing you like this raised an unbelievable amount of worry and anger, but she wouldn’t let you see that

Her voice came out in a hushed whisper, swaying you back and forth slightly, “Tell me my beloved, what has happened to you?”

You’re hesitant, of course. You know how she can get, especially when it comes to you

But you especially know how she gets when you’re not upfront and honest with her

“Treasure Hoarders wanted information about the whereabouts of the delusion factory,” The moment the words leave your mouth, she brought you closer to her before letting go

Her face is stone cold, but you can practically feel the infuriation radiating off of her like a waterfall

It leaves you shaking a little bit, and you’re not even the one she’s livid at

She sends you to Dottore to get patched up, making sure to not-so-subtly threaten him to keep you safe and to not turn you into one of his experiments

She’s using these circumstances as a training exercise for some of her children in the House of the Hearth to gather information

Once she has the information she needs, you better believe she’s going absolutely batshit crazy

And I’m talking about leaving the Treasure Hoarders mangled bodies at other Treasure Hoarder camps to send a message

That message being that if they touch you again, she’ll make sure every single one of them will perish by her hands personally

Capitano

He’s not the type of man that pays attention to those that he deems weaker than him

He doesn’t find them worthy enough for his time

Yet when one of his Fatui subordinates delivered him the news that you’ve been captured and tortured by a group of Nabushi in Inazuma-

Well, he could make this one exception, couldn’t he?

He’ll seek to hunt them down himself

He wants them to understand the mistake they did for touching the only person he has deemed worthy for his endless time and attention

For every mark that was bestowed upon you, he will make sure he doubles it both in numbers and in pain

He won’t outright kill them, he wants to get back home to you as soon as possible

But we will leave them barely conscious

Surely the Rifthounds can take care of them. They gotta eat too after all.

He’s grinning the whole time he walks away

Hearing them scream for him to save them as the Rifthounds bite away at their flesh

For anyone else the sickening sounds of tearing flesh and blood curdling screams would be enough to show mercy

But to him it’s music to his ears

Maybe next time they would think twice before using you to get information

Dottore

He’s cackling to himself when he found out

The poor subordinates that informed him are quivering and praying to The Tsaritsa that they won’t feel his wrath

Cause this man is insane, but in that moment, that is the most insane he has ever been

Thankfully The Tsaritsa seemed to answer their prayers cause he dismisses them to bring you to him

Although one managed to climb up the list to be his next test subject when they declare that you’re being seen by a Sneznayan doctor so it “might not be a good time”

He snaps out a “I’ll treat them myself, your lucky my priority lies with them right now, otherwise I’d already have your flesh ripped away and replaced with metal”

He makes a mental note to do it later, for when you’re escorted in, he’s furtively seething

Littered in cuts and bruises, a deep cut slashed along your side, and lightning shaped scars surrounding it

He has a good idea who did it already, and why it was done

As he’s treating you, he’s tracing along the lightning scars, letting out a small hum

“My dear, tell me, what exactly happened.”

This man intimidates you from his voice alone, and you can’t even form the words to speak

Even though he knows, he wants to hear you say it, to just confirm that his anger is justified

Not that he cares on rather it is or isn’t, but his superiors certainly do

He can sense your timidness which makes him grin. He finds it so cute, but now is hardly the time to be having those thoughts

He reassures you that it’s okay, you can tell him. He’ll make it all go away. He’ll make them go away. Just tell him, he’s there for you.

And you do tell him in a hoarse voice, and he finds it pitiful.

Some Dancing Thunder Kairagi thinking that they’re entitled enough to put a hand on you, just because they believed you would tell them the Fatui’s plans

He doesn’t say anything after that, staying uncharacteristically quiet. Which is more daunting to you than if he were to spill out threats

He continues to treat you in silence. And once he’s done he’s escorting you back to your shared bedroom within the palace.

After, he’s having some of his subordinates fetch the ones that hurt you. When they are brought in, well, let the experiments commence

He’s certainly enjoying hearing them scream in agony as he tests out the effects of having multiple delusions. Hearing them beg, and plead for him to stop. But he doesn’t. He’s sure you did the same thing. Pleading them to just let you go. They didn’t stop till some Fatui Skirmisher’s stepped in, so why should he? But there wont be any Skirmisher’s saving them.

He’s making sure they suffer for a long, long time

Pantalone

“Oh, how pitiful” he states as he walks into Dottore’s lab

He’s been told that you’ve been sent there after having a— rough encounter, to put it lightly— with a few Shogunate soldiers

He saw the pure exhaustion on your face, and yet he still maintained a smile

“I can see you were determined to give it your all. But do not worry sweetheart, for I will fill in and give it my all for you.”

He won’t only hurt the Shogunate soldiers indirectly, oh no. He’ll hurt the whole Shogunate army.

Slowly, he would cut off their money supply through the Northland Bank (don’t ask how that works, I don’t know myself but for the sake of this, it works). I mean, you can’t do anything without the very thing that gives you the pathway to do anything in the first place, right?

He’ll watch from the shadows as the Shogunate army is scrambling for funds, and ultimately scrambling to regain power

It would take a meeting with Kujou Sara in order to settle things. His only request was that the Shogunate stays out of the Fatui’s business, and most importantly, stay away from you.

You know how I said he would hurt them indirectly? That’s because he’ll have others do it for him.

He’ll give some to Dottore as test subjects, and some to Arlecchino for target practice for the kids. He’s just as much of a supplier as he is a taker.

While everything is going on outside of your knowledge, he’s keeping you close to him. Holding you, walking you to and from work, and even allowing you to tag along with him on more PG related missions for lack of a better term

He’s a man of endless influence throughout Teyvat, and he will not hesitate to use it to rip apart the nations for you. Especially if they dared to touch you like they did.

Tartaglia

Definitely the most sane one when it comes to it, and that’s saying something

Especially since he’s the one that witnessed it first hand

As stated previously in another post, he’s already paranoid anytime you’re not around him since the Fatui have a lot of enemies

So when he went out looking for you since you took a tad bit longer to get groceries than it normally would, he found out that his paranoia was justified

Imagine his surprise when he found out that it’s not Treasure Hoarders or Hilichurls, no, it’s the Millelith of all people hurting you

“Well well, what did I just walk in on? Am I interrupting something?” He has a smile on his face but it doesn’t seem very happy

Perhaps that’s because his eyes are showing nothing but unadulterated hatred towards the group of men that think it was a good idea to beat you around for information on him and the Fatui

“If you wanted information you could have just came and ask me yourself, but instead you had to go out and dig yourselves your own grave. What a shame.”

He’ll instruct you to turn away, cause he’s pretty sure that what he’s about to do to them would traumatize you for life. He doesn’t want that for you.

When you do, this man is pulling out all the stops

Slicing and dicing, aiming and shooting, hydro and electro

He wants to watch them suffer, and he’s grinning like a mad man when he watches the life drain from their eyes

As much as he wanted to make them suffer more, he had to cut it short since he still had to prioritize you

He’s going to pick you up and carry you back home no matter how much you want to protest and insist that you’re okay

But this man is stubborn and he’s not having any of it.

He’s taking you home and cuddling you close, not letting you go even after you’re all cleaned up

His laid-back persona is broken as he apologizes to you, that he’s sorry that he put you in danger

Please reassure him that it’s not his fault and give him plenty of kisses

He’s not leaving your side for a LONG TIME

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin men #genshin men x reader #childe x reader #pantalone x reader #capitano x reader #arlecchino x reader #dottore x reader #fatui harbingers x reader #fatui harbingers #genshin hurt/comfort #childe #pantalone #arlecchino #capitano #dottore

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demonpiratehuntress · 2 months

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hiii! it’s the autistic anon,, i hope it’s okay if i try requesting smth a little easier to write? i was thinking maybe smth like Law and reader aren’t dating yet, maybe reader joined the crew not too long ago and so is still quiet and shy around everyone. but one day Law notices her reading a comic book he likes and strikes up a conversation about it and maybe that leads to him finding out they’re really similar in some ways? like both have a coin and comic book collection, both love tattoos, and reader even wanted to be a nurse but just didn’t have the resources for it. Law kind of develops a crush from there and u can decide how he handles it and whether or not he even realizes he has a crush at first. and i don’t mind what format either, it can be headcanons or a fic or anything! and i just want to say thank u for taking time out of your busy schedule to write for us, i love your writing and look forward to your posts everyday! i hope your day is great!! <3

hello again! of course, i'm open to a lot of other ideas :) this sounds so cute and sweet, i can definitely write this! thank you for requesting again :D i chose headcanons because they're more fun to write lol. I hope you like it!

taglist - @kabloswrld

two peas in a pod

Trafalgar Law x F!Reader

summary - the cute scenario described in the ask :)))

warnings - none

You'd always wanted to become a pirate, ever since you were little

So when Law and his crew showed up at your little island and stopped at your village to replenish their supplies - and apparently take down bandits that were terrorising you - you took the opportunity

At first Law was sceptical, wondering what you brought to his crew, but after your first venture with them he realised you could be useful, not only as a fighter but also another medic, one with more nurturing qualities and a softer touch

He would never admit it, but he was jealous of how the crew immediately went to you for help now

But after a while Law himself warmed up to you as well, and found himself seeking your company more and more often

He knew very well he could fix himself up, but chose to come to you instead just to have an excuse to talk to you and maybe learn more about you

Despite interacting with the crew for medicinal purposes, you were still shy and reserved, only speaking when you needed to

You were surprised when Law walked into your room one day, claiming that he needed your help determining what kind of sickness he was developing (he was not sick)

He caught you in your free time, so you were reading a favourite comic of yours, a secret you had managed to keep from everyone for so long - until now

"What's that?"

"Hmm? Oh, this? Nothing.."

You hid the comic behind your back, hoping Law would drop it and just focus on his non-existent sickness, but luck was not on your side today

His brows furrowed in concentration, before his eyes lit up in a way you'd never seen before

"I know that comic!"

"Wh-what? No you don't..."

"Surely you're not telling me I wouldn't recognise the cover of my favourite comic book, (Name)-ya..."

"O-of course not! I just didn't think..."

You trailed off as Law took a seat directly next to you, plucking the comic from your hands

He begins to flick through the pages with you sitting so stiff and awkwardly beside him

Eventually you relax and attempt to initiate a discussion about it with him

Which turns into a full debate over your favourite characters

You've never had this much fun talking about something before

And your captain seems so much more relaxed and at ease, and he's even SMILING as he talks

The conversation slowly goes from the comic to other shared interests between the two of you, such as his coin collection - he was visibly stunned to find out you had one too - and your desire to become a nurse, something medical-related

Law was surprised to hear that you wanted to be a nurse

Not because you didn't have the skills for it, you definitely did, but because you had chosen to become a pirate instead

When he asked what changed your mind, something weird happened in his chest when your answer was "i didn't have the opportunity or the resources in my small village...but also...you"

He didn't know what that feeling was, but he kind of liked it?

From then on, Law took every opportunity he could to talk to you about both your coin collections, your medical knowledge and your shared interest in that comic

He wanted to know why he was feeling this way, and hoped talking to you more would help him understand

But now he was just craving your presence, craving your voice and the way you passionately spoke about your interests

It wouldn't be a good day if Law hadn't gotten the chance to see or speak to you

And it was frustrating him that he couldn't figure out why he felt this way about you, and why he treated you differently to his other crewmates

Then Shachi and Penguin teased him about being in love with you

And suddenly it made sense

But for the first time ever, Law was terrified, because he didn't know what to do, this was not his forte

So obviously, he needed help, and since Shachi and Penguin were doing nothing but teasing him, he went to Bepo

You were completely oblivious to what he and Bepo were planning, thinking they were just planning the crew's next island stop

You were also oblivious to Law's feelings - mostly because he hid it well - but were completely aware of your own feelings for him

And you tried to hide it, you really did, but everyone could see the way your eyes softened when he walked into the room or spoke to you directly, the way your cheeks reddened when he complimented you or said something nice, the way you always seemed even more shy and flustered around him

Even Law noticed

But for a long time he debated whether or not to actually go through with his Bepo's plan to ask you out

He took so long that you almost gave up on him entirely

But when he did finally approach you, it was so worth it

He had planned a very romantic dinner in his room - candlelit and everything

He was so nervous the entire time, only slightly comforted by the fact that you looked nervous as well

"You look nice"

"Oh, um, thanks. So do you"

It is SO awkward for a few minutes, as you both just look at each other or the food

You decide to break the silence since it seems like Law never will

"If this is too uncomfortable, I can-"

"No!" He jumps to say, then clears his throat. "I mean, I'd like you to stay. I'm sorry, I'm not very good at this."

So you stay, and you're patient with him as he works up the nerve to tell you how he feels

In the end, you tell him you feel the same way, and like a movie, you close the date with a sweet, slow kiss - both yours and Law's pace

#one piece #op #one piece x reader #one piece x you #trafalgar law #law x reader #law x you #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law x you #trafalgar d water law

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rallentando1011 · 3 months

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hey so can I get a scenario with rottmnt Donnie where he keeps stealing his lovers purple stuff, he notices them not having purple stuff around anymore and one day they are like “yea so I don’t buy purple anymore. Too much stuff is disappearing. Hmmm I wonder where it keeps vanishing too? “ and they give him a knowing smirk?

Purple Habits Die Hard (rise Donnie x gn Reader)

(Hello! Thank you very much for the requests-I am really enjoying them and promise I’m working through them-

I am open to more requests, guidelines are HERE, and I’m not saying that I specifically would like writing some Donatello angst but yes I absolutely would-

Either way, I hope y’all enjoy!)

Word Count: 1082

You didn’t love him anymore.

That was the only logical conclusion Donnie could reach.

Was he grasping at straws with that hypothesis? Likely. But the fact that there were even straws to grasp in the first place was enough to raise his suspicion.

Data point 1: You hadn’t worn purple in weeks. Not really a commitment, definitely not a symbol of possession, wearing his color was just a symbol that he was in your thoughts. The lack of that implied that he wasn’t plaguing your mind like you did his. At least, that’s what he picked up from it.

Data point 2: You barely invited him to hang out anymore. The last few times you two had seen each other had all been initiated by him, three to be exact, and all of those instances had occurred at the lair. Not your residence, not some fun locale, the lair.

Data point 3: …

Well, to be completely honest, he only had the two. However, how unscientific or illogical his hypothesis was mattered not.

Something was awry.

And he was going to get to the bottom of it.

A text message drew Donnie out of his downward spiral line of reasoning.It was from you, alleging that you were almost to the lair.

Right. He had been so busy plotting and scheming that he nearly forgot the subject of such endeavors, and that he had invited you over for investigation and/or confrontation.

He needed to get ready.

He tugged off the lavender sweatshirt he’d taken from your place a couple of months ago, the chain of your stolen lilac bracelet jangling as he did so.

Oh yeah. He should probably take that off, too.

He didn’t want to seem like a kleptomaniac.

He barely had time to chuck the articles into the deep recesses of his lab and act like he was busy working on some project before you knocked and entered the room.

“Heya, D.” You plopped down on the desk chair adjacent to his seat and spun around once.

His answer was a disinterested hum.

You summed it up as him being busy and started scrolling on your phone before he spoke up.

“My, what an opulent blue shirt you have on.”

That was an odd comment, and were those hints of disdain in his voice? You continued on anyway. “Uhhh, thanks? It’s just a graphic tee, though..?”

“Oh, don’t undersell it. It’s rather nice.”

“...Okay then.”

You weren’t following. He grew frustrated.

“Yes, it is grand, but would it not look in another, similarly shaded cool color?” He prompted.

“A rose by any other name would smell as sweet.”

His eye twitched. You grinned.

You tilted your chair in his direction, tone lightly teasing. You two indulged in some lighthearted banter here and there, and that’s what you thought that was. “What, are you saying it’d look better in purple? Your color?”

“I’m not saying that I interpret the colors of your clothing symbolically, but yes, I do. You haven’t been wearing any of your purple articles recently, you barely invite me over anymore. You can just admit you don’t enjoy my company.” When his gaze fled to the ground, you realized that he was serious about this.

“Donatello…” you started, dipping your neck down so you could make eye contact. “That is the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever said. The reason I haven’t been wearing purple is because I don’t have any purple to wear. Something or someone keeps taking all of it. And, coincidentally, more goes missing every time you come over. That’s why I’ve been hanging out here instead.”

Donnie’s mouth was agape. The thought that he was the one causing his own problems hadn’t crossed his mind. Genuinely, thinking about it, it made a lot of sense. The worst enemy you can meet will always be yourself was really ringing true. But he couldn’t let his scientific validity and his dignity die in the same endeavor, so he took the next logical step. Lie.

The softshell swallowed before uncertainly droning, “I haven’t the slightest clue as to what you are implying.”

“I think you’re definitely smart enough to ascertain my implications. And you’re way past smart enough to know that I still love spending time with you even though I’m not wearing a specific color anymore.”

Donnie blinked. Oh. So, you two were cool, and he was actually just being melodramatic. He was still trying to figure out if that was worse than you being sick of him. It probably was. Probably…

However, he couldn’t dwell on that long. Something you said piqued his interest. The thing about the color of your clothing not holding any symbolic weight.

Expression growing subtly smug with the quirk of an eyebrow, he called your bluff. “If you are taking into account my intelligence, then should you not also observe that I am smart enough to discern the correlation between the formation of our partnership and you coming into possession of more purple attire?”

You blinked before countering with a smirk. “How would you know that I bought more purple clothes if I haven’t been able to wear them?”

Oh, Schrödinger. The only way that he would know, and the reason he did know, was because he had taken them

Regrettably, he mumbled. “... I plead the fifth.”

“Oh no you don’t. Public interest takes precedence over your individual rights, sir. Get subpoenaed, sucker!” You perked up in your seat and pointed an accusatory index finger at the man. “Where are my things?”

He crossed his arms.“You have no definitive proof that it was me. Your argument is circumstantial, at best. Good luck defending that in a court of law.”

Your excitement deflated. “Fine, fine. I suppose I must continue on without wearing purple, our color, forever.”

You batted your eyelashes sadly. It was a cheap tactic, but you weren’t afraid to stoop if it meant you could get your regular Donnie- you meant, wardrobe back. Yeah, you missed your clothes, but you missed having him over more. Probably.

It only took a couple more seconds for him to crack. “Sigh… Hey, completely unrelated segue, but could I come over tomorrow?”

“Suspicious timing, but I’ll allow it.”

“Great.”

“This meeting is adjourned.”

Somehow, by some otherworldly force/the magic of guilt tripping, your violet sweatshirts, t-shirts, accessories, gradually began showing up as the weeks went on.

By the same mysterious impetus, their return coincidentally synchronized with Donnie coming over.

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licorice-tea · 3 months

Text

Could I Be Loved By You? Pt. 2

Pairing: Monkey D. Luffy x reader, Usopp x reader, Nami x reader (separate)

Content: some suggestive jokes in usopp’s part, just general silliness besides that!

Word Count: 0.9k (total)

A/N: first time writing for all three of these characters- say whatttt! usopp’s part is my fave, but i love all of them!!! also if you check my master list for more content or anything, just know that im working on making it looks more aesthetically pleasing (it’s a mess right now😓) anyway thanks for reading and enjoy <3

Part 1

What happens when you ask them; “Do you think we’re together in every universe?”

Nami - 0.2k

With a singsongy voice, you announce your presence to Nami. “Babe!”

“Y/n!” She responds in a similar cadence. However, she doesn’t look up from drawing her map.

You round her desk so that you’re standing behind it, and she finishes off a line before setting down her pen. “What’s up?”

“I have a question for you.”

“Mhm…?”

“Ok. Don’t laugh.”

“I won’t laugh at you, babe.” Well, she might, but only out of endearment.

“So… Um, do you think that we would be together in every universe?”

Her lips, once pressed together in a resting expression, curve upwards. The shake of her shoulders is an unmistakable sign of held back laughter, which is only solidified by her hand covering her mouth.

“Hey! You said you wouldn’t laugh!” But in all fairness, you’re smiling too. It’s a silly sort of question.

“I’m not, I’m not!” She defends herself through giggles, then clears her throat.

“So, do you think so or not?”

Nami taps her chin with a smirk. “Yes. Yes I do.” The faintest blush colors her cheeks, though she’s much too proud to ever admit to being flustered by the idea. To think; you want to be with her just as badly as she does you, in any every lifetime or world where the two of you coexist. It’s enough to make even her swoon.

“Awww, so you do love me!” You tease. Your next course of action is to run out the door before she can (lovingly) hurl a book at you.

Monkey D. Luffy - 0.3k

You and Luffy are the last crewmates left at the table. Neither of you were late to dinner, nor were you ever. No, you had arrived to the dining room on time (even a little early), but he is still on his 3rd main course. Meanwhile, you are a slow eater. It’s no bother, though; you’d take almost any opportunity to spend time alone with Luffy.

With a soft smile, you tilt your head as you watch your boyfriend and captain stuff his face.

He pauses, noticing your staring. “What? Something on my face?” He licks his lips.

You shake your head. “I was just thinking.”

“Oh, ‘bout what?”

“Do you think we’re like this in every universe?”

“Like what? Still hungry? I know I am!”

“No,” you giggle, “I mean like… in love. A couple.”

This time, Luffy is the one to giggle at your curiosity. “What a weird question, y/n.” He cracks his blinding grin at you. “Of course we are.”

Luffy proceeds to stretch one arm around the back of your chair and pulls it closer to his. The proximity allows you to lay your head on his shoulder, and now everything feels right with the world…

Still, the “what if” scenario runs rampant in your imagination. “But if there is a world where we aren’t-“

“Just means we haven’t met yet.”

“… Hm. I guess you’re right.”

“Yeah, and I found you this time, right? So, I always will.” He says it all like it’s some simple, known truth. As if there are no doubts in his mind- nor should there be in yours- that you’re meant to be together. It’s not surprising though, given Luffy’s view on his own destiny. Naturally, yours is part of his, and vice versa.

With a simper, you swipe your thumb over the corner of his lips to brush away a crumb. “Or maybe I’ll find you.”

Usopp - 0.4k

You and Usopp like to play this sort of game where you ask each other questions. Sometimes they’re deep and introspective, others silly and random. It’s not really a game, per say, but… Well, it’s a fun little thing for when you’ve exhausted other topics of conversation or both of you are bored of other, cleverer topics.

“Ok, favorite temperature?”

“Favorite temperature? That's so specific!”

He chuckles. “Thats the point, baby.”

You hum in agreement before responding. “True… 74 degrees.”

“Celsius, or fahrenheit?”

“…Usopp.” You deadpan. “74 degree celsius would be, like…”

“Around 165 degrees fahrenheit.” He grins proudly. How some people, such as your boyfriend, are such naturals at mental math, you would never understand.

“Hmph… if you say so. But, yeah, why would I say my favorite temperature is 165 degrees fahrenheit?”

Usopp shrugs, “I wouldn’t put it past you; I know you like things hot.”

You’re too caught up in the way he leans toward you teasingly to notice his arms snaking around your waist. Without warning, he pulls you close to his chest. You shriek as Usopp spins you around, but your arms remain looped around his shoulders even after he sets you down.

“That was a dirty trick.”

“I think you enjoyed it.”

And you did, so you just smile and accept defeat. It’s your turn to ask a question now. “Do you think we’d be together in every universe?”

His smile falters. “I… Well, I don’t know.”

“…Oh.”

“I want to be, of course, I just…”

“Just what?”

“You have so many choices, y/n. Who’s to say you’d always choose me? I definitely wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t, in this hypothetical alternate-“

Your lips stop his from moving with a forceful kiss. They linger there, just for a few moments, before you pull back less than an inch away. “Don’t talk like that.”

“Sorry.”

“And don’t apologize. I’d always choose you, Usopp, no matter what.”

His confidence grows back, along with his smile. “Then yes,” Usopp places another small peck to your lips and pulls away to gauge your reaction, “I think we would be together in every universe.”

Your eyes seem to shine with some emotion that could only be described as love. “Just what I wanted to hear.”

#fanfic #one piece x reader #one piece #one piece x you #x reader #nami x reader #cat burglar nami #luffy x reader #monkey d. luffy #straw hat luffy #usopp x reader #god usopp #straw hats #straw hat pirates #straw hats x reader #fluff

162 notes · View notes

justmediocrewriting · 4 months

Note

Luffy x Reader; maybe she steals away his hat and a huge chase ensues and she lured him to the marines bcs they made a deal that they’d relieve her village of their debt? Straw hats help her out ?? :)

Stealing Hats, Stealing Hearts {m.d.l}

Summary: when the captain of the Marines comes to you and offers your village’s freedom in exchange for luring and capturing the Straw Hat pirates, you thought it too good a deal to refuse. You were rather adept at conning, and you were sure stirring up a ruse good enough to lure the crew would be easy, but when you meet the infamous Straw Hat pirates, you can’t help but feel hesitation towards the mission, as they are the complete opposite of what you expected.

Genre: fluff(?), slight angst

Requested: ✅

Word Count: 4.9k

Pairing: Luffy x fem!reader

Warnings: themes of coercion, language, manipulation, canon-typical violence, strawhat shenanigans

A/n: this request was so much fun to write, thank you so much for blessing me with it anon! I know it took a while to get out, but I was so in love with the theme and scenario that I wanted to reflect it in the writing. I did my best to polish and refine it to the absolute best it could be. I truly hope everyone enjoys reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

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

To say you were nervous would be a major understatement.

You were shaking like a fucking leaf in your ratty boots because of your nervousness; when you’d accepted the request from the Marines, you hadn’t truly taken every detail into account. All you’d understood was that by doing this simple thing, your village would finally be free of their debt, and the Marines would gladly walk away from their post on the island. It sounded almost too good to be true, and now the reality of that was hitting you with a heavy impact.

You’d heard of the Straw Hat pirates; of course you had. They were vicious, unforgiving, brutal and animalistic — what they’d done in Orange Town was proof enough of that, not to mention the way they’d put down and hurt many Marines in Shells Town, all for a ratty slip of parchment. There were many rumors surrounding the crew, but you’d never given too much thought to their authenticity before — but now, staring straight at the Straw Hat pirates, in the flesh, you could believe every single one.

The one that made you the most nervous was the swordsman; the three katanas resting against his right hip were intimidating enough, but the glower on his face and the rippling athleticism that was potent beneath his clothes made for a rather frightening combination — it was one which you didn’t want to experience for yourself.

“No harm will come to you, girl,” Captain Akubi had promised you earlier that morning. “I will have Marines stationed everywhere to watch your every move; if things begin to get dicey, they will intercept.”

The captain’s promise had given you a small semblance of reassurance, but with knowing what the Straw Hats themselves were capable of, and seeing them in the flesh, you highly doubted any Marine here in the town would be strong enough to protect you should you incur their wrath — especially not against that swordsman. It was enough to almost send you running back to your decrepit shed with your tail between your legs.

But this was your home — and you had to protect it, at any cost. Even the cost of your own life at the hands of a vicious pirate group.

It was with this conviction that you’d raised from your seat and approached the table the pirates had chosen to occupy in the dingy tavern. Plates were scattered and piled across the surface of the table, and the captain, the one you’d recognized as Monkey D. Luffy from his wanted poster, was currently digging into a separate, still full, plate when you stopped feet from him.

You cleared your throat to catch his attention, but you truly weren’t prepared for the sheer depth he held within his chocolate eyes when he flicked them up to meet yours. Your breath stuttered momentarily as you were taken aback by just how attractive the man was, how the dim lighting sharpened every angle of his face, and not for the first time since you’d agreed to this mission trepidation clamped your gut; but this time, it wasn’t from fear, but rather a strange sort of nervousness tightening your throat and making it difficult for you to speak. You were aware of four other pairs of eyes on you, and your skin prickled uneasily.

“Yes?” The man asked, not impolitely, but rather loudly, and you wanted to shrink back as some of the clamor around the tavern settled down. Others were looking at you now.

You swallowed down every unpleasant feeling and crossed your arms over your chest, feigning a sense of confidence that you didn’t really possess.

“You’re pirates, aren’t you?” You asked accusingly, and the man’s face simply brightened, as if being recognized as a pirate somehow brought him happiness. He reached up and briefly resituated his hat atop his head, and when he spoke it was with an adorable little accent that left you feeling slightly weak in the knees.

“We are. We’re the Straw Hat pirates!”

You didn’t think it was possible, but when the man gestured to the other four occupants of the table, his features somehow lit up brighter than the sun, and you were slightly shocked. The man seemed so gentle, so kind, maybe even a bit naive and exuberant to a fault; how could a gangly, bright boy like this be the captain of a heartless, ruthless pirate crew? A slim glance to the other occupants left you feeling and thinking along the same lines — the swordsman was openly glowering at you, but his eyes were hardened in something akin to suspicion rather than blatant cruelty, and when your eyes met with the blond, well dressed man’s he sent you a charming smile that had you blushing slightly. The other man, a darker skinned boy with a bright smile and bandana wrapped around his head, gave you a shy wave, and the only woman of the crew, redheaded and simply beautiful, also smiled kindly.

Were these people really the Straw Hat pirates? They seemed… different, than what you’d heard.

“Are you really?” You couldn’t help but ask, and the man in the straw hat looked a little confused by your suspicion. He glanced over to his crew mates briefly before returning his eyes to you.

“Why do you sound as if you find that hard to believe?” He asked, and his tone was so genuinely curious and kind, and you found that you really liked the sound of it; for the first time since you’d started this mission, your muscles relaxed.

You thought you’d feel a lot more fear from the act of staring the captain of the Straw Hat pirates in the face, but for some reason, you just didn’t — instead, you felt genuinely baffled and curious.

“Because the Straw Hats are notoriously ruthless,” you stated, flicking your eyes briefly and suspiciously over the group. “You guys destroyed Orange Town.”

The redheaded woman who was previously smiling at you now narrowed her eyes, and when she spoke to you, her voice was lowered and full of venom.

“We saved Orange Town. Buggy and his band of bastards were the ones that destroyed it.”

It was clear that you were itching beneath the woman’s skin, and that was sort of what you wanted; it would be easier to draw them out if you angered them, and their emotions would blindside them and make them lousy to their surroundings. Ultimately, capture would be much easier if they were in that state; but part of you wanted to recoil from the sheer aggression in her tone, but the freedom of your village weighed heavily on your shoulders, and you forced yourself to stay strong.

“Even if I gave you the benefit of the doubt on that one, you still stormed the Marine base in Shells Town and slaughtered numerous innocent men.” You bit back, hoping beyond everything that your tone came out just as scathing as the woman’s had, and didn’t reflect the new wave of nervousness that had crashed over you.

The redhead didn’t react exactly in the way you expected, but she did roll her eyes in exasperation and sigh heavily. “We never killed anybody. Geez, just how many rumors have been flying around about us?”

“A lot,” you couldn’t help but say, and now the swordsman was no longer glaring, but the way he eyed you with a strange sort of intrigue made you somewhat prefer the glare.

“What kind of rumors?” He asked, and you nearly swallowed your own tongue. You narrowed your eyes at him and forced your tone to stay even.

“The bad kind. That’s why you aren’t welcome here.”

Now the captain spoke up again, and his words were filled with so much confusion that it made you feel a little guilty for your fib.

“But none of those rumors are true, so why would we be unwelcome?”

Now a genuine anger was curdling within your gut, the oppression and helplessness that your village had been subjected to over the many years boiling hot beneath your skin and muddying your usual stone-cold resolve.

“Because this village has dealt with enough, and the last thing we need is a ragtag group of lowlifes sullying it with their presence. Even if you aren’t what the rumors chalk you up to be, you’re still pirates, and that’s bad enough.” You didn’t have to force the way you scathed this time, and the anger beneath your skin burned just a little hotter when the man simply stared at you with no reaction to your insults — his eyes were narrowed, but not in irritation, and he was looking at you as if he were trying to read you, trying to reach into the very depths of your soul and figure you out from the inside out. It was making your skin crawl in ways that were simultaneously pleasant and unpleasant.

The man was silent for a long time, and when he finally did speak, his voice was lowered, but the volume did not alter the genuine curiosity or the cryptic-esque quality of it.

“What kind of pirates do you think we are?”

You blinked at him, momentarily baffled and caught off-guard. You worked your lips for a few seconds, but no sound escaped, because how were you supposed to answer that question?

Quite simply, actually.

“The only kind there is,” you stated bluntly, and when you tried to turn your glare onto the other occupants of the table, it fell from your eyes at the way they were looking at you. The woman’s expression was the worst; she looked sympathetic, and even a little understanding, and it confused it you to no end, but it also angered you. Why would they feel sympathy or understanding towards you? There was no reason; and even if there were, you wouldn’t want it from pirates.

“There’s more than one kind of pirate,” the man said, and this time, his voice was kind, almost wistful, and there was a strange sort of nostalgia dancing in his brown eyes, and you swore you could see a hint of distant admiration too.

Many different emotions were gnawing at your chest from this whole interaction; there was confusion, envy, intrigue, attraction, but most of all, there was anger. Anger that you had been put in the position to feel these emotions, that you were the one forced to bear the weight of the entire village, anger that these damn pirates weren’t falling for your tricks, that they didn’t even really seem perturbed by your words or opinions, that they were completely rewriting your entire view on them, and now you just wanted them to snap; to show their true colors, and then get thrown behind bars where they belonged.

It was with this impatience that you said and did what you did next.

“There is only one kind of pirate, and I can prove it.”

The man furrowed his dark brows in confusion for a total of a second, but his expression turned quickly to shock and anger when you reached forward and yanked his hat off with barely-concealed aggression. There was a soft snap noise that seemed to reverberate around the tavern when the strings below his chin broke apart from your roughness, and to you, it sounded less like a string snapping and more like the single shot fired into the sky to signal the drop of the guillotine at an execution; your execution.

Panic gripped your muscles as you stared into pools of swirling anger, and your adrenaline spiked, and before you could even grasp any coherent thoughts you turned on your heel and ran.

Chairs scraped behind you, and your heart thundered in sincere fear when multiple footfalls immediately pounded after you. You dodged multiple patrons, from sitting to standing, and beelined straight for the back of the tavern, the route that had been given to you somehow taped to the forefront of your mind instead of forgotten in your state of near panic.

He will definitely kill me if he catches me, was what was bouncing around your skull, pushing you further than even the thought of saving your village as you led the individual behind you on the invisible path, feet kicking up clouds of dust along the roads. Your breath felt frozen in your lungs, and your legs were already aching, but you knew what was at stake, and you’d be damned if you gave in to the pain and lost everything; it wouldn’t happen, not when you had already come so far.

You just narrowly avoided crashing into a woman as you crossed a rather busy road, receiving a multitude of insults and curses; your pursuer wasn’t as lucky, as you could hear gasps and shouts of indignation as well as stumbles and a small crash, and the distraction was enough for you to gain a few more feet on the man.

Just a few more turns, you thought as you whipped around the corner of the bakery, heart thundering even harder as you pursued gathered himself quickly and the pounding of his feet closed in. The warehouse is just a couple more meters this way.

You gripped the hat tightly in your hand as you ran, every shout and command to stop that reached your ears only propelling you forward, and before you knew it, you were banging open the large doors of the warehouse and skidding to a halt in the middle. The man’s footfalls entered not too long after, and a sense of dread filled your body as you whipped your eyes around the warehouse. It was empty, save for you and the man behind you. They were supposed to be here.

Did I go to the wrong one? You thought, chest heaving with large breaths as you tried to desperately search for the signature sea-blue of a Marine uniform. But there was none in sight, and your entire body froze when the man spoke up from behind you.

“Listen, lady. I don’t get what you’re doing, and I don’t know why you’re doing it, but it ends now. Give me my hat.”

Mustering up as much courage as you could manage you whipped around to face the man. He was standing just feet inside the warehouse, and his red vest and cropped jeans were covered in dust, and his shoulders dropped heavily with his panting. You were immensely relieved to find that he was the only one who’d followed you, but at the same time disappointed, because your goal was to capture all of the Straw Hat pirates. Would captain Akubi really be happy with just the captain? Said captain’s eyes were narrowed and his fists balled at his sides, but he made no move to attack you, and it drove your nerves up the wall.

Why was he hesitating?

As if reading your mind, the man spoke again. “I don’t want to fight you, so just give me my hat. Please.”

You hardly believed what your ears were hearing. Did a pirate just ask you to do something? That didn’t seem right. This was all too confusing; it was supposed to be simple, damn it! So why were you finding it so difficult?

You glanced around once more, and hope fluttered minutely in your chest when you caught movement just left of the pirate’s flank; it was a Marine, with a gun clutched in hand, and he was advancing on the man in front of you. With a shout he whipped the heel of his gun into the back of the man’s neck, and you watched with mixed feelings of relief and guilt as the man’s eyes snapped closed and he groaned as he crumpled to the floor of the warehouse.

“Very well done,” you recognized the husky voice as captain Akubi seconds before the man himself appeared at your side. His hands were clasped together in front of his thighs, and maybe at any other point in time, you’d feel pride at his praise, but at the moment you couldn’t feel anything of the sort. You kept your eyes glued to the man on the floor, who was groaning and attempting to rise to his feet, only to have the Marine behind him slam his gun against the back of his neck and bark an order to stay still.

“It’s only the captain here, but my men are rounding up the others as we speak. They were much easier to catch since they were separated. And it’s all thanks to you.”

Your skin crawled and you wanted to coil back from captain Akubi as he purred at you, his fingers slinking up to rub at your chin.

“Don’t touch me,” you nearly whispered, eyes still not leaving the sight before you, and your breath caught in your throat when the man raised his head, eyes locking with yours. They were wide, but there was no anger within them, just worry and plain confusion. Akubi sniffed once and tore his hand away with a click of his tongue.

“Well, go ahead and cuff him, men. Our business is done here.” Akubi ordered with a snap, and you startled when there was a shuffle of movement, and four more Marines fled from their hiding places within the warehouse, one with a pair of sea-prism handcuffs clasped in his hands.

The pirate was forced to his feet with his wrists bound behind him, and the metal clink of the cuffs locking sounded much louder than they truly were — the sound sent unpleasant shivers down your spine, but you refused to let yourself feel any guilt. These people were pirates, and their capture meant the freedom of your village, and you would never allow yourself to feel regret for doing what you had to.

But the man was making it extremely hard not to, what with those eyes blown wide and those lips slightly parted, looking at you as if he couldn’t believe you could truly do something like this. You had to tear your eyes away, or you might do something stupid; like attack captain Akubi and spell the end for your village, all for the release of some measly pirate who you knew nothing about; who was rumored to be heartless and aggressive.

But there was something in your gut, something screaming at you, telling you that this man just wasn’t that type of person, and every interaction you’d had with him thus far simply proved more and more truth to that ascertainment.

“Alright, men, time to head north. We will bring this miscreant and his crew to headquarters, and finally get the recognition we deserve.” Captain Akubi said, clapping his hands together gleefully. Your heart sunk as you stared at the man’s broad back as he approached the cuffed pirate, and you cleared your throat. Captain Akubi sighed heavily and barely turned to glance at you from around his shoulder.

“What is it?”

“My village. We have our freedom now, right? That was the deal. I honored my end. Will you honor yours?”

Your heart clenched and fell even further at the look of faux sympathy captain Akubi sent you.

“Oh, my dear, that’s really not in my power. But, given how well you did here, I will surely recommend it to headquarters.”

Anger and fear gripped your chest in alternating waves, and you stumbled forward with a splutter on your lips.

“That wasn’t what you told me! You said you would give us our freedom!”

The pirate currently held prisoner flicked his eyes between you and captain Akubi, his brows furrowing as he drank in your interaction with the man.

“I got you the Straw Hats. Now free my village, Akubi!” You demanded, and you nearly tumbled on your rear when the Marine captain turned completely on his heel and advanced on you in mere seconds, towering over you with a snarl on his lips. You winced when his hand whipped up and pain exploded across your jaw as he squeezed your cheeks with his hand.

“I am a Marine captain, and you will not give me orders. I have no obligation to honor your request, and there’s nothing you can do about that, so just pipe down and slink on back to your little ramshackle hut.” With that Akubi released your cheeks and pushed you back roughly, and now you really did fall to your rear, tears stinging at your eyes as you watched his retreating form.

“This isn’t fair,” you whispered through quivering lips, anger and helplessness wracking every nerve ending in your body. You balled your fist and slammed it down against the floor, not even wincing when pain bloomed through your palm. “This isn’t fair, Akubi!”

Akubi only laughed loudly and threw his shoulders up in a shrug. “Life isn’t fair, girlie. You’d better get used to it.”

“So you did this for your village,” the pirate said, and all eyes snapped to him. You expected to find anger or resentment, disbelief at the very least, etched into his face, but instead his lips were pulled into a small smile, and his eyes crinkled with what you could only identify as glee.

The look on his face was so soft, so happy, that it caused your throat to tighten, and you were unable to get any words out, so you simply nodded in affirmation. Why you were even engaging in this with the man, you didn’t know.

“I knew you weren’t bad.” The man said, and he sounded so confident, so sure, that it sent tingles up your spine, and you couldn’t help but preen under the praise. You were equal parts relieved and disappointed when the man tore his eyes from you and pointed a cheeky smile at captain Akubi.

“And now, I get to kick your ass, for terrorizing this village, hurting my friends, and for making her cry.”

Your heart swelled with conflicting emotions at the man’s words, and your cheeks warmed, but the feelings were dashed away when captain Akubi let out a condescending bark of laughter.

“You? You’re going to kick my ass? How do you figure?”

The man didn’t react, at least not with any of the reactions you would’ve; he just smiled even wider, and clicked his tongue.

“With my crew, of course.”

As if those words had simply summoned chaos, a multitude of noises broke out within the warehouse; grunts, groans, bangs, yells, curses, thwacking, thumping — and suddenly Captain Akubi was the only Marine standing, and all the others were on the floor, each clutching at a different part of their body, or nursing a different wound. Seeing them on the floor, and captain Akubi’s speechless gape, filled you with such happiness and satisfaction that you were nearly buzzing beneath your skin. Warmth bloomed in your chest when the redhead swam into your view and offered you her hand.

Despite your earlier aggressive interaction with the woman, you were happy to clasp her hand and heave yourself to your feet with her help. She gave you a smile, and you smiled back. While still gripping your hand, she said, “I’m Nami.”

“(Y/N).” You responded curtly, feeling a little guilty for the things you’d said to her previously. She genuinely seemed nice; they all did.

“Okay, captain guy, what’s it gonna be? Surrender or fight?” That cute accent pulled your eyes like a magnet to the owner, and you felt your skin heat at just how good he looked; now that there was more light, you could see his features more easily, and he was damn attractive. And that accent definitely complimented it. The others were there, too. The swordsman was standing beside his captain, two swords drawn at the ready — and the blond man was currently lighting a cigarette as he stood above a couple of groaning Marines.

The woman beside you, Nami, rubbed a hand against your bicep, and you turned to give her a soft, grateful, if not confused, smile.

“We heard about it from the villagers. When we broke free from the Marines, the villagers explained everything. And when we got here, we heard what the dingleshit said to you. We’re on your side.”

Warmth bloomed completely through your body at her statement; part of you couldn’t truly believe that these pirates were actually going to help you, that they even wanted to, and part of you wanted to reject the help. It was what you were used to, after all. The Marines had taken over your village years ago, and the rest of the village was far too scared to stand up to them. Your rebellion against them was done in secret for the longest time, and as the years went by, you began to lose hope; up until captain Akubi had offered you this exchange. If only you had been able to see it for what it truly was — a lie.

“You’re under arrest by order of the Marines!” Akubi growled, but his voice was a bit shaky, and when you glanced at him, you felt another zing of satisfaction at the trace of fear on his face.

The man, no, Luffy, brought his hands (which you now noticed were free of their restraints) up and cracked his knuckles. His tongue darted out to briefly swipe his lip, and when he drew his arm back, your eyes nearly bugged out of your head when it stretched back yards. It slung forward with a speedy velocity as Luffy yelled “Gum Gum Pistol!”, and when his knuckles made impact with captain Akubi’s face, the cracking result was nearly deafening.

Captain Akubi flew past you to the end of the warehouse, the wall shaking as his back made contact, and when he slid down his shoulders slumped; out cold. Luffy huffed out a snort and his hand returned to his body with a snap, causing him to stumble slightly.

Silence fell over the warehouse, the only interruptions being scraps of the wall tumbling to the floor and the grumbling and groaning of Marines. You stared around the warehouse with wide eyes, and when they traveled back to look at Luffy, you flushed when you made direct eye contact with the man.

Luffy smiled brightly at you, dazzling and so, so breathtaking, and your heart leapt into your throat when he crossed the distance between you two and offered his hand.

“I’m Monkey D. Luffy, and I’m going to be King of the Pirates. I also want you to join my crew.”

You nearly choked on your own spit, and doubled over as coughs wracked your body. Tears stung in your eyes when your coughing ceased and you glanced up at Luffy disbelievingly.

“You what?” You croaked out, and Luffy, completely unperturbed by your blatant confusion and shell shock.

“I want you to join my crew. You’re brave and you can run really fast, and you sacrificed yourself for your village. You’re a good person. Just the kind of person I want on my crew. I would love to sail with you and find the One Piece.”

Your entire body flushed at his close proximity and compliments, but then what he said registered, and you couldn’t help but bark out a laugh.

“Wait, you really think the One Piece is real?” You asked, wiping a tear from the corner of your eye. Luffy’s smile didn’t dim one bit, and he nodded.

“Of course I do. And you will, too. Once we find it. So, come on.”

You shook your head and bit your lip. “Look, Luffy, thank you. For what you did here. I can never repay you for it. But… I can’t join you. The life of a pirate just isn’t the life for me.”

A shock of yellow caught your eye when you glanced down, and with a start you realized you were still clutching Luffy’s hat. Hurriedly, you shoved it into Luffy’s chest and released it before pulling your hand back as if it had been burned. Luffy had to fumble a bit to catch it before it fell to the floor.

“And, um, I’m sorry about taking your hat. And… for breaking it.” You avoided Luffy’s eyes as you mumbled bashfully, but even without directly looking at him, the bright warmth of his smile was still blinding.

“If you really want to say sorry, or repay me, just join my crew.” Luffy said, still offering you a place on his ship, and it was truly mind boggling to you, but you still couldn’t bring yourself to look him in the eyes.

“I’m serious. I can’t join you. I belong here, and I’m not interested in life at sea; I wouldn’t be a very good pirate. I… I also don’t know what captain Akubi would do to the village. We still aren’t free, even if you knocked him out.”

At that, Luffy’s smile did fall a bit, but he didn’t frown.

“I understand, (Y/N). But… maybe once you’ve gotten everything settled in your village, you could think about it?”

At that, you finally met Luffy’s eyes, and you were rendered speechless by the pure hope you found there. There were other emotions there too; interest, eagerness, and something soft, something that made your heart constrict and your skin burn. Suddenly, you wondered about what it would be like to have a life at sea with this man — to see him every day, to be a part of every adventure, to grow close to him and know him.

To know every Straw Hat member for who they truly were, and not who the rumors said they were.

You glanced around at the other members of the infamous Straw Hat crew, and with a small smile, you murmured,

“I’ll think about it.”

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

A/N: tbh I’m not sure about this ending, but I hope it was good enough for y’all. The next request I’m working on right now is a Sanji request, so be on the lookout for that! Thank you so much for reading!! ❤️❤️

#opla #opla x reader #opla luffy #opla luffy x reader #one piece

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