#so she often messes around with it like in this instance

[littlemissstel]

Soft-Play Love- Shiu Kong

You meet someone while taking your daughter to the softplay centre.

No use of (Y/n), Shiu and reader are both in their late 30s and have daughters, (D/n) = daughters name, "mummy"

dividers from @saradika-graphics

It had taken a month of begging from your daughter to finally take her to the soft play centre she loved oh so much. It wasn’t that you minded her being there—it was just that you knew the routine all too well: the first twenty minutes of her clinging to you , the next hour of boredom as you waited, then the inevitable meltdown when it was time to leave. Not to mention the sickness a few days later once the germs caught up with her, keeping her a grumpy mess for what seemed like an eternity. And like any other reasonable parent, you'd rather not deal with any of those things. If you'd been a bit younger when you had your babe, perhaps this wouldn't be so draining- but you weren't and it was.

Still, you couldn’t help but smile at her excited little face, knowing how much this meant to her- it was just a part of growing up, and so, begrudgingly, you spent your Saturday afternoon sat on a chipping, washed-out, squeaky chair; overstimulated by the merged sounds of high-pitched shrieks from feral children and smell of sickeningly sweet processed snacks. Truth be told, you hadn't seen your daughter for the last ten minutes - too engrossed in your book to acknowledge the passing time. The last few instances you had managed to catch sight of her she was accompanied by a young girl around the same age, who sported pigtails and a wide smile to show off the gleaming rows of wobbly teeth. It's not often she bothered at making friends so you were more than happy to let them be, but you figured it was time to warn her about leaving soon as the end of your session approached- knowing she would no doubt bring chaos in her wake.

"MUMMYYY!!" the all too familiar voice sounds from behind as she runs into view, her new found friend in hand.

"Me and Min-hee want ice cream!"

"Yes please!" the little girl added, her rosy cheeks squished in delight.

For a moment you considered saying no, but how could you? Not when two anticipating faces of faux angels looked up at you with such expectation.

"How about we ask Min-hee's parent if they are okay with it first?", you suggested, already reaching for your bag. "Then I’ll get you both some ice cream."

And in a blink the two girls were off, racing back into the chaos of the play area.

You figured that was the end of the conversation until they both reappeared, a tall and handsome man trailing after them with his gaze meeting yours. He seemed to be around your age, no older than forty which was rare to see and you perked up in interest. There were a few parents from your daughters year who were also in their late 30s but they were the least sociable of the cohort, either that or they had their biases about you being a single parent. It wasn't something you had ever foreseen. You and your then husband had been together for a long time beforehand and when your daughter had unexpectedly came you both saw it as a blessing. Though a few years after her arrival, fights began to frequently arise ; about his job, about household chores, about quality time, about trivial matters that never should've been a problem in the first place. You both tried to make it work but you had already drifted too far and- although not fully divorced- decided to separate. Now you both co-parent on good terms, though the unevenly split weeks still tend to be the subject of most disputes.

You stood up, snapped out of your daze, giving him a friendly smile, but for a moment, it felt like the words caught in your throat. It was one of those strange moments where the quiet between two strangers is just enough to make you second guess.

"Daddy! (D/n)'s mum wants to say something to you!"

"Oh—no, I just wanted to know if it’s alright for the girls to get ice cream," you blurted, suddenly feeling put on the spot, "I didn’t mean to drag you over here."

He smiled—an easy, small but genuine smile—and you felt a wave of relief. "It’s no problem. I don’t mind at all. Do you have a preference?", he asked, his voice deep, almost soothing.

"A preference?"

"Of ice cream flavor"

"Ah, no, thank you," you said, shaking your head. "I really don’t mind getting them myself." .

"It’s my treat," the tension between you both easing as he spoke.

"Then can I at least help you carry them back?"

"Of course", and he stepped aside, gesturing for you to follow him

The conversation was concluded by the badly hidden giggles of your girls who took turns whispering in each others ear. If you had to guess it would be D/n cracking poorly made jokes. If Shiu had to guess, his daughter would be up to something.

The table where the girls sat was right next to the restaurant so you had no qualms about leaving them for a few minutes as you followed Shiu into the queue.

"Do you come here often?" He starts, turning his body halfway to you. Each ray that streamed through the windows turned everything it touched into a fierce gold which bounced off the side of his face and into his eyes- creating splotches of sweet honeycomb too captivating to look away. It was almost as if the heavens were testing your resolve with how they shone down on him and you could only pray the light blocked his vision enough so that he didn't notice your prolonged stare.

"We used to but not so much anymore. D/n has been bugging me for weeks and I couldn't hold off any longer"

"That sounds about right" he chuckles dryly

"What about you?"

"It's our third time, I've been meaning to take her more but it's hard to find the time when there's only one of you"

You nod in excitement understanding, "I get it, there's only one of me too- and i could think of a thousand other things that need doing right now but..."

The two of you continued to talk, the subject straying slightly further from kids and more into your personal lives which you unexpectedly appreciated. Children were something you both had in common yes, but you hadn't had a proper conversation with another adult in a long while and it was nice to interact with someone as the original you for once- not mummy. He had an unspoken charisma about him, one that drew you in and you felt more and more compelled to ask about the mundane aspects of his day to day life- anything to fill the puzzle in your head of the intriguing man. Eventually the ice creams were served and although you initially joined him to help carry the two sizable bowls of sugar, he quickly scooped them up and asked another question before you could have a word of it.

"So," he said, voice low and subtly teasing, "do you think we’ll be able to handle two sugar-high kids at the same time?"

You raised an eyebrow, smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. "As long as they continue to entertain each other, but I’m sure we'll regret it regardless"

The girls were already bouncing in their seats, their eyes wide with excitement like little comical bunnies and you couldn’t help but chuckle. The two of you sat down next to each other engaging in conversation as the girls indulged in their own and suddenly the cheap plastic chair, bright fluorescent lights, and overbearing shouts of children became more comfortable than it had any right to be - blurring into the distance.

You seemed to bond with Shiu seamlessly, the two of you finding another who understood the hidden struggles of single parenting and you had wished it was as easy to talk to all of the parents you had to interact with; normally as a result of your daughters playdates where conversations consisted of watered down small talk.

Your discussion was cut short however as a loud beep echoed through the room—a reminder that your session was almost up and you prepared yourself for the oncoming tantrum.

"Ah, I’m afraid we need to get going soon," you said, carefully. "Our session's almost over."

The girls' faces fell. "Noo! Thats's not fair!" D/n whined, slumping in her seat.

You looked over at Shiu, feeling the irony of your disappointment as you not too long counted down the minutes until you could leave.

"Well, we’ll have to do it again sometime," he said, his voice warm.

"Definitely," you agreed, a tad too fast for your liking. "Maybe we could arrange a playdate for the girls? They seem to have hit it off."

Shiu’s smile softened. "That'd be great"

The girls erupt in squeals once again,

"Can we have a sleepover!?" (D/n) begged. "Please, please, can Min-hee come over?"

You and Shiu exchanged knowing, apologetic glances, and you reached for your phone, handing it to him.

"Here, I'll text you and we can figure out what works best"

He took the phone, his fingers brushing yours for just a second. "Sure thing." He quickly typed before handing it back to you. "Looking forward to it."

"Me too," you said, feeling a flutter of anticipation in your chest as you saved his number.

For some reason the simple exchange felt strangely significant, like the start of something new.

Please feel free to leave any ideas/ recommendations x

[pulchinelle]

Showing off Maelique's unique magic![and some Mallellis]

Thank you @starry-night-rose for letting me steal Ellis for this!

Another thing I wanted tk accomplish with this short thing is practicing my panel composition

This is a little bit of a shitpost (like everything else I draw maelique in) so the quality will be alittle messed up by tumbrl

[pigeonpeach]

Jealous harbingers

Warning: yandere like tendencies or behaviors but not fully. Also ofc jealously and violence

Characters: Childe, Capitano, Dottore, Pantalone, Arlecchino, Columbina, Sandrone

Childe is definitely the worst when it comes to jealousy. He’s number 11 so he’s eager to rise up the ranks, but he also refuses to bring you around the other harbingers because he worries they’d use you to get to him. And it would work. Hook line and sinker. Even if its innocent. The only harbinger he’d let you around is Puncinella and that’s because the guy is like family to him so of course he doesn’t mind. But if he must he has you close 24/7. He cuts off his colleagues if they get too comfortable and is quick to show displays of affection as of means to dissuade anyone. He also will leave enough hickies to make you look like a dalmation

Capitano is actually very calm when jealous. For the simple fact that scenario is incredibly unlikely to happen. No man is stupid enough to flirt with his partner, especially when you’re consistently guarded and accompanied. Not even Dottore would risk his wrath. But if some idiot does decide to try they won’t last long. Like at all. He will just grab them by their skull and toss them like they’re a lingering piece of garbage. He will not leave hickies on you however because with his strength that could actually do serious damage and he just refuses to risk hurting for that. He will likely have you wear his insignia in some way on your outfit if you go out without him.

Dottore is worse but hes good at covering for it. Like Captiano he is less likely to let you be alone in public without him or underling. But he knows you’re a beautiful sight so you would catch a eye or too. You won’t know that the underlings avoid your gaze because the last few that lingered their gaze quickly became test subjects of some horrible experiments. He is also not stupid enough to show you off to the other harbingers. You’re likely in your own wing of the lab building in a comfortable environment with attendees far from where any colleague of his is allowed to go. Although he will probably get jealous of his clones. The younger segments are more neutral towards you but the older ones are more likely to try and hold you or kiss your hand while he’s not in the room. It’s quite a mess for him.

Pantalone is not like Dottore in that he will show off his prized jewel in the appropriate settings. They wear custom matching outfits meant to clearly indicate they are his, jewelry paralleling his own, with a hand on the waist at all times as he mostly dominates conversations with strangers or colleagues. He is proud that you are his. He makes it well known. In public he is usually not so touchy minus holding you. But if he notices the lingering gazes and jealous stares he gets he won’t hesitate to stoke those agitation as a way of showing dominance. For instance he may pull you into s dance in which he keeps you pressed so close to him. He may pull you in for a quick kiss or a long one depending on how mischievous he is feeling.

Arlecchino

You’ll need not to deal with such things. More likely than not you’ll be busy in the orphanage. The rare occasion she allows you to accompany her is for special events she thinks you would enjoy. Often times your shared children are also brought as body guards to you. So you won’t be left alone. If any would be suitor comes by they’ll swiftly redirect them and engage if they get violent. But if a harbinger were to try their luck…. Arlecchino will not hold her tongue nor keep up appearances as she pulls you from the conversation and kindly reminds said harbinger to keep their hands to themselves. Once you’re home safe and alone however her teeth with be in your neck making enough hickies to make you into a leopard.

Sandrone

You are her most prized possession by far. Beautiful puppets and such. She is seldom seen in public or in events. Often sending underlings in her stead. It helps she’s also not nearly as social able or diplomatic. But she is a very jealous lover. She hates the idea of anyone else having eyes on you. She may subtly influence you to stay by her side more and more. Not even the most arrogant harbinger would dare to challenge her.

Columbina

She is actually least likely to be jealous. She’s a odd woman. But if she didn’t think you would stay loyal then she wouldn’t have let you out of the house today anyways! Your attire is tailored and customized to match hers. Sometimes you dawn a veil as she thinks if she sees your pretty face too much she’ll loose all restraint and just get carried away with you. Truly a strange woman. Not even the most reckless of harbingers would challenge her.

[unoislazy]

Jealous Mizu Headcanons

Disclaimer: A tad bit of NSFW is included in this so be warned

A/N: again, i apologize for not getting anything super extensive out. I thank you all for being so patient and so sweet!!

————————————————————

Mizu’s not the type to be outwardly jealous.

She’ll get jealous but she won't say much about it, she’ll just let it fester inside her quietly until it gets to be too much and she needs an outlet.

More often than not that outlet is fighting (more on that later)

She would never think to label you as “hers”, you’re not an object that she can possess.

However, when it comes to other people being around you, she finds it very tempting to start.

Before either of you confessed, you had already made up a plan to act like you were a couple to avoid unwanted stares from men and women alike.

Turns out Mizu enjoyed that much more than she thought she would.

God help the person that decides to flirt with you while she's around

If that person happened to be Taigen? Forget the duel that man's dying TONIGHT

Mizu of course would recognize that you’re your own person and you can choose to be with whoever you want… but the thought of you choosing TAIGEN of all people is not a thought that would allow her to sleep well at night.

She would claim its for no other reason than she thinks you deserve better than a man who abandoned his engagement for honor

She wouldn’t be wrong but you wouldn’t have even been interested in Taigen in the first place so her coming up with all these reasons why you shouldn’t choose him would just be outing herself.

She refuses to come to terms with the fact that she feels jealous about anything

She would be deep in denial for as long as she could manage until someone finally calls her out on it.

Her jealousy causes her to become a tad bit possessive

She’s not the most secure person in the world when it comes to relationships no matter how hard she pretends to be

She would go above and beyond to try and make sure no one was going to try and lure you away from her.

NSFW Headcanons

(Pretty vague in favor of remaining gender neutral)

Remember how I said “More often than not that outlet is fighting”

Well the alternative to that involves you

It would be less about being possessive over you and instead it would be her way of proving to you she can give you more pleasure than anyone else

And she would without a doubt prove that successfully

She might not be incredibly experienced but you wouldn't have been able to tell that by the way she treated you

Despite her feelings she would actually be extremely gentle with you

It’s not your fault she's mad that other people also find you attractive, so she’d have no reason to be angry with you.

Which means praise. Lots and lots of praise

Constantly reminding you how pretty/handsome you look while beneath her

What, you thought she wasn’t going to pin you down? That’s like her signature move at this point, she’s GOING to be on top.

She would take an opportunity handed to her to tease you and usually that meant one of two things

She teased you with compliments

Or she teased you by stopping what she’s doing all together and having you beg for her to continue

Just cause she’s not mad at you doesn’t mean she can’t mess with you a little

Considering before this point she wouldn’t have been so open about her feelings you would’ve been taken by surprise

She would find it incredibly entertaining if you got embarrassed by all the sudden attention she started giving you

As rough as she deals with things in her everyday life I think she’d be a service dom honestly, in this specific instance at least.

She wants you and she wants you to know that.

She wants to sear it into your brain so any time you even so much as look at someone else all you’d get is a flashback to how good you felt with her.

She would not let you do anything for her, she wants to focus on you and only you

She would just enjoy knowing she was making you feel good and that’s all she’d need

If you tried keeping quiet, she would persuade you into letting go, she wants other people to know that she was the one making you feel good

Needless to say if Taigen had attempted to flirt with you before, he definitely knew not to now.

[only-luce-the-goose]

Heeeey pookie!!

i loved your Arthur fic too much, the man deserves to receive more love here🥹🫶🫶 I have two ideas for you, which in my head make more sense. I will try to explain myself as best as I can but in reality this is not my strong point LMAO

If you want and can write something about loving every little thing the reader does, such as the habit of brushing his hair behind his ears or, for example, when he reads a book that she cries, smiles or curses as if he LOVES that about her. 😮‍💨💗

Or maybe something about him being a little jealous and possessive not in a grotesque sense like I had to defend her from someone in a bar or something, like her being too nice by not wanting to walk away so as not to hurt the other person even if it's bothering her (that happens to me often haha😅)

Maybee some of the care for her when she's sick 🥹🥹

Of course, only if you feel comfortable with these ideas, which were more than two, I apologize for that, I'm a little excited.🧍🏻‍♀️🫶🫶

(I hope I have made myself understood, also English is not my first language, I am sorry if this is complicated when read or understood, also sorry this was so long :(, anyway much love to you 💗💗💗💗)

Little things

A/N: I am going to write all of them, they're so cute. Arthur absolutely deserves more love, he's underrated. Don't worry btw, your English is fantastic. I'm actually Australian so my spelling of certain words are different to everyone else's 😅. Keep an eye on my page for the next few days, I'll release them soon (I just need to finish my uni assignment first, whoops 🤷‍♀️). I hope I did what you were thinking 🫶🫶

Arthur Leclerc x reader

Warnings: Fluffy/Simp Arthur

Synopsis: "If you want and can write something about loving every little thing the reader does, such as the habit of brushing his hair behind his ears or, for example, when he reads a book that she cries, smiles or curses as if he LOVES that about her. 😮‍💨💗" - This part of the request.

You and Arthur were lying on the couch watching a movie after a long day. You propped up my pillows with Arthur on top of you, head resting on your chest. Your fingers started to scratch the back of his scalp, slowly worth their way up. He sighed as he pressed himself deeper into you, nuzzling his face into your skin. He lifted his head up and pecked your lips. You look down at him and giggled, “what was that for, baby?”. He looked up at you with a peaceful smile, his eyes brimming with love as he replied “just appreciating the small things” before resting his head back on your chest as you kept scratching his head.

The next time it happened, you guys were cuddled up in bed and you were reading a book. It might be one of the saddest books you had ever read in your life (for this I’m gonna use “Bridge to Terabithia” cuz I feel like everyone read it for school). You got the the chapter where the girl fell into the creek and drowned. The pure amount of detail broke your heart and sent you into a sobbing mess. Your sniffles caught Arthur’s attention, he looked down the see his shirt beginning to get wet. He pulled you up to face him as we wiped your tears. “Hey hey hey what happened mi amor?” He rushed. You explained what happened, causing Arthur to give you that look again. A peaceful smile, eyes brimming with love, he pecked your lips, “how about we read a happier book?” He suggested. “No” you said as you made eye contact again “I just wanna cuddle”. He grinned and settled down, pulling you into him “that is something I can definitely do”. You smiled as you tucked yourself into his side.

Another instance was when you and Arthur were walking through the paddock. The crowd was pushing and shoving, sweeping you away with them. Arthur quickly realised you had gotten caught up, jogging back to guide you again. You think your right hand to his left, your left hand coming up to hold his strong bicep on the same arm, basically wrapping yourself around his arm. You have his hand a little squeeze, leaning your head on his shoulder when he squeezed back. You made it to the Ferrari garage and you knew you would need to let go but you didn’t want to, do you didn’t. Arthur planted a kiss on your forehead and gave you that dopey, in love look he gives you in moments like these. “What?” You laughed. Arthur pecked your lips “nothing my love” he mumbled against them, “just admiring” he winked. Just like a school girl, you giggled and then cuddled into him, are grip still tight on his arm.

What really stood out is when you were cleaning your shared apartment. You were going through your shared closet when you found a brown leather book. The title on the inside of the book, in Arthur’s unmistakeable handwriting, was “those moments”. You flicked through the book and saw dates and times, which matched to all the moments when Arthur gave you the look. Scratching his head on the couch, crying at a book, being clingy at the paddock, it was all there. What you didn’t know, was that Arthur was leaning on the door frame, watching you read his little things journal. “Find something good, amor?” You jumped at his question. “I’m so so sorry. I shouldn’t be snooping but I’ve never seen it before, and I had no idea what it was for. I’m sorry, I should’ve given you your privacy an-” Arthur cut you off with a kiss. “Im glad you found it. Everytime you ask about this “look” I give you, you now know what I was feeling and thinking. Is that ok amor?” He has a glimmer of home in his eyes as he asks you. You put the book back where you got it from, wrapped your hands around his neck and kissed him deep “of it is, I love you Arthur” “I love you mi amor”

[iloveacaibowls111]

The Fairest of Them All

SYNOPYSIS: ust a little fluffy oneshot about you, Sukuna's wife, and the vibes that are occurring everyday you get me?

A/N: Cute little fluff. Obviously, Sukuna here is a softie and not like his sadistic self :)

A small cherry blossom flower softly landed on your arm, its delicate touch tickling your senses. You glance down, captivated by its fragile beauty. The blossom was a gentle thing, soft and serene—a stark contrast to you. Growing up, your mother often chastised you for your brash, impulsive nature, warning that no husband would want a wife who acted on whims without a second thought. So, as you matured, you did your best to find your place, to practice patience with yourself—all in hopes that your future husband wouldn’t resent your habit of speaking your mind.

Everything changed when you were promised to Ryomen Sukuna, a fierce ruler infamous for his cruelty and violence. Your parents were horrified when their advisors suggested this union, fearing for their beloved daughter’s safety. Yet, despite Sukuna’s brutal reputation, the advisors insisted that no one in the land could better protect you. Reluctantly, your parents agreed, and you were wed to the most feared man in Japan.

When you first met him, his interest was piqued by your impulsive nature—something that mirrored his own. “So, why did you burn down that entire town again?” Curiosity got the better of you, and you couldn’t resist asking about his most recent outburst.

“The leader of the town said my face was an abominable mess,” Sukuna grumbled, sitting cross-legged across from you as you embroidered a pattern onto his new kimono.

“The audacity! He deserved it,” you teased, flashing him a cheeky grin. “Honestly, though, your face is far from an abominable mess. It’s wonderful.”

“Hmm, are you teasing me?” Sukuna asked, a mock pout forming on his lips. You couldn’t help but laugh. The fierce king, feared by all, was pouting because he thought you were teasing him.

“No, not at all. I’m serious. You’re probably prettier than I am,” you replied, pausing your embroidery as you clutched your stomach from laughing so hard.

“Stop it at once, I command you,” Sukuna demanded, his voice rising to feign anger. You tried to compose yourself, but it was no use. Suddenly, you felt his arms wrap around you—four of them, encircling you. “Good, you’ve stopped laughing.”

Before he could react, you started to tickle him. Though your efforts had little effect, it quickly sparked a playful tickling war between the two of you. His fingers merely hovering over you sent you into fits of giggles.

“So, you really are just a cute little softie behind your ‘tough’ exterior, aren’t you?” You bemused, laying on his chest while playing with one of his hands.

“Nah, just for you,” he responded while caressing your soft hair, one of his fingers interlacing with yours.

Sukuna’s servants and guards suddenly saw a new side of him that he had reserved for you. He would be so gentle with you as if you could break at an instance, which you probably could given how strong he was. He was playful, taking part in your silly antics and so called ‘pranks’. Finally, he was showing to everyone that he was capable of love and letting someone in his life. Although, he had concubines that were at his beck and call, he never truly let someone in as he did with you.

“You know when my mother was pregnant with me, she was starving because we were so poor. I had a twin brother in the womb but apparently I had eaten him to avoid starving to death myself.” Sukuna murmured, you two were lying outside soaking up the remaining sunshine before the winter cold would settle. The two of you were lying on your backs, head facing each other while your feet pointed in opposing directions. “That’s probably why I look the way I do now.”

You listened intently, not wanting to interrupt him as he rarely shared the details of his childhood. “I think a part of her always hated me for that so that’s probably why she left me. But then again, it’s not my fault that my brother wasn’t strong enough to eat me first.” He reasoned, shutting his eyes to think.

“Well, I think that you were just a little embryo in your mother’s stomach, that barely even counts as you.” You responded, tilting your head to face him. “I think all children deserve parents but not all parents deserve children. You didn’t deserve what happened, if she was starving so much why would she even want to have children to begin with.”

Sukuna just shrugged, his eyes opening to face yours. “Well, I promise that if we ever choose to have children, I won’t act as if they owe me. I owe them everything.” You happily stated. Sukuna couldn’t help but laugh at your decisiveness.

“Of course, my queen.” His four arms reached to grip your waist and shoulders before manhandling you to face him. He snuggled his face into the crook of your neck, taking in your scent. The two of you just lay out in the sun, enjoying each other’s company.

Before he met you, Sukuna would demand death for anyone who defied him, but now, he merely sent them away with a harsh word. The correlation between your presence and his softer demeanor didn’t go unnoticed, though sometimes his anger still got the better of him.

“Y/N! Where are you?” Sukuna’s booming voice echoed through the palace halls. You were sitting in front of your vanity, where your handmaiden was brushing your hair.

“I’m in my room!” You called back, hoping he’d hear you.

Suddenly, the door burst open, and Sukuna stormed in with a very frightened concubine named Yuki. His grip on her arm was so tight, you worried it might snap.

“I found this one demanding a village be annihilated,” he growled, his fury palpable. The statement confused you, considering how much Sukuna usually enjoyed causing chaos.

“I thought you’d be into that sort of thing?” You tilted your head, genuinely puzzled.

“Yes, but not without my permission. And then she dared to say it was your idea,” Sukuna’s eyes searched yours, questioning the truth behind Yuki’s claim. The concubine looked at you with pleading eyes.

“Uh, yes, it was me,” you quickly blurted out. “I just hated the way they, um, dressed up?”

“You? The same person who scolded me for killing a spider because it had a spider-wife and spider-children to go home to?” Sukuna could barely contain his amusement. Though still angry at Yuki, the way you were trying to protect her made him remember why he loved you so much.

“Y-yes. I’m turning a new leaf. I want to be more like you,” you said, walking up to him and gently prying his hand off Yuki’s arm. “Now, let Yuki go, and we can talk about this in private.” Sukuna stayed still for a moment before nodding. Yuki shot you a grateful look as she hurried out.

You sat on the bed, looking expectantly at Sukuna. “You can leave now, Hoshiko,” you said softly to your handmaiden. She bowed and exited, leaving you alone with Sukuna, who stood, arms crossed, leaning against the wall, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“I’m not stupid, you know,” he said, raising a brow.

You smiled, your heart racing. “I know you’re not. That’s why I thought you’d see through her little scheme.”

Sukuna stepped closer, the intensity of his gaze softening. “And why would you take the blame for her?”

“Because,” you started, cheeks warming, “she’s just a small thing. I didn’t want you to hurt her. Plus, I knew you wouldn’t do anything to me.”

He tilted his head, a smirk playing on his lips. “Oh yeah? You know me that well?”

“Yeah. I do.”

A chuckle escaped him. “You know, if you were anyone else, your head would be on a spike.”

“Yes, yes. You remind me often,” you teased.

Sukuna rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide his smile. “You should be lucky you have such a special place in my heart.”

Playfully, you poked his chest. “What can I say, you just can’t resist my charm!”

He took a step closer, and for a moment, the world around you faded. “Guilty,” he said with a mischievous glint, before sweeping you up into his arms, making you squeal with surprise. “I heard the flowers are blooming in the garden—a cacophony of colors. Let’s go check them out.”

“Hey! Put me down, Sukuna!” you laughed, trying to pinch his cheeks as he carried you toward the garden.

He leaned close to your ear, a grin forming. “Not a chance. You’re mine.”

As the two of you disappeared into the vibrant garden, your laughter echoed through the air. Sukuna, the fierce and feared king, had found his match—someone who could make him smile, laugh, and feel a love he’d never known before.

And as you basked in the warmth of the sun and the blooming flowers, you knew that despite his terrifying reputation, he was, and always would be, yours.

[sillygoofyqueer]

Bing-ge getting super sparkly/shiny jewelry with magical abilities and the wives are like “Ooh, could this be for me?” only, nah. It’s actually to lure in his future husband. Go away. XD

Ahhh! Shen Yuan making a safe haven for crows is a wonderful idea! Demonic crows or yao, whether they’ve cultivated human form or not, are all welcome! Regular crows too!

Since I love teacher Shen Yuan, of course he teaches all the younger ones too. Just because they spend half their time as birds doesn’t mean they can’t get an education!

The human half of his family are probably from some tiny village who gave offerings to the local crow demons and unintentionally became friends (crows being protective of their people and all). Their village is startlingly safe thanks to crows mobbing anyone who dares try to mess with them! There might be other half-crow kiddos running around too, thanks to the good relations. Shen Yuan tutors the village kids too of course!

(Tiny bit of angst, but Bing-ge burns with envy if he finds out! This half-demon friendly town was here the whole time?!)

This is adorable, Shen Yuan seeing these young children and just being like "...students." Sometimes, if the human children are extra lucky, he'll take them on flights as long as they have 'necessary payment' (usually a cool looking rock and proof that they've done their chores). It's impossible to find Shen Yuan without at least one crow perched on his shoulder or in his hair, unless he's going on - what the others describe as - dangerous escapades to nab cool stuff from Bing-ge's palace, in which he will know and stop anyone who tries to follow him because he's a dumbass with no self-preservation skills, not them! It takes him a startlingly long time to figure out that Bing-ge is leaving things for him on purpose, and he is undeniably shocked when he finds out. He eventually finally takes it as a form of courtship due to other demons' and humans' instance that it probably is. After doing research on crows courting one another, did you know that the males feed the females?? And sing to them?? SO, I immediately thought of the idea of Shen Yuan trying to reciprocate the courting (because he would never be so silly as to reject the emperor, no one in their right mind would) by randomly appearing in Bing-ge's room (much to Bing-ge's delight and confusion) and singing sweetly before feeding a willing emperor apple slices or some shit until Bing-ge reciprocates and feeds him in response and Shen Yuan just pauses and goes "hang on, am I the wife?" and immediately takes to the role without any thought. ("Why would Bing-ge be the wife, how foolish of me!") When Bing-ge finds out about the village that accepts half demons, of course he's a little upset! Why couldn't he have this sort of comfort and love in his life? Why did he have to suffer all this time?? Then he goes to this village so that Shen Yuan can show off his nest to the emperor (sign of trust?) and is immediately hit with the "I want to be here forever" train.

Also, the more you think about it, the funnier it gets actually lmao. He just shows up with these gorgeous trinkets and jewellery and sometimes even clothes (shiny embroidery of course), and they vanish and the wives are all like "where the actual hell are they going? Who do we even complain about??" and it could be like a background thing where the wives all get jealous of each other when there's actually just this bird guy who comes over quite often and started by stealing shit while dropping off helpful things. Imagine how strange that must be for the wives. "Ugh, [wife's name here] is taking all the attention away from us!!", "Really? I thought it was [other wife's name]." Meanwhile, there's just one wife (Liu Mingyuan most likely) who just knows and she doesn't tell anyone, content to watch as chaos ensues while the bird man and Luo Bing-ge fall deeper in love with one another, and the gifts get more elaborate each time. {part three! Part one, part two, part four, part five, part six, part seven!!}

[nxuvillette]

thoughts on best friends brother!hanma? how he’d act with the sneaking around to avoid your best friend? 🥺

❥- note : hi nonnie <3 this made me go kinda crazy because i love something secretive with shuji :> !! i hope you enjoyed this tehe.

content warnings : nsfw [17+], fem!reader, ageless + blank blogs dni, reader is best friends with hanma’s sister, mentions of hookups, brief car sex mention, teasing, secret relationship, use of pet names (babydoll , doll), praising, breeding kink, mentions of pregnancy, multiple orgasms.

hanma never imagined that he’d end up messing around with his little sister’s best friend.

you and hanma had met after your best friend took you over to her house. she mentioned him many times before, but you weren’t expecting him to be so fucking hot. hanma was six foot four with these delicious tattoos on his hands that made him seem intimidating from the naked eye. he was charming, too. he had this sultry tone in his voice that would make it difficult for you to even look at him and his honey eyes.

there would be lingering glances between you two, and there were even a few instances where you would both end up alone with each other. there was always something in the air whenever you two were in the same room. thankfully, your best friend never noticed. you would hate for her to get the wrong idea about your friendship. 

hanma eventually caved into his desires for you and messaged you one night. despite it being almost two in the morning, you decided to go and see him. you both ended up hooking up in the backseat of his car. it was some of the best sex you had ever had. it was like hanma knew your body already. he touched, fucked, licked, all of the right places that made you melt in his fingers. it was clear that this wouldn’t be a one time thing, judging by hanma’s behavior towards you after your first initial hookup.

it was difficult to hide your secret from your best friend. that was her older brother. it would mean lots of betrayal if she were to discover what was going on. 

but, you just couldn’t stop.

whenever she was working, hanma would have you come over and you would both fuck for hours. he would put you in all kinds of positions and leave your cunt stuffed with his cum. it was just the way he liked it. 

sometimes, he’d play a dangerous game and touch you whenever she was in the room. he’d brush his fingertips along your waist or get a little too close to your ass whenever he was walking by. he’d just smirk and give you that look that said it all. he loved to see how much he could work you up until you were a needy slut for him in bed the next time you met up.

it was risky, but that’s why he loved it so damn much. 

it was later in the night. your best friend had gone to some frat party that was about an hour away, and you were lying in hanma’s sheets with your legs on his shoulders. his cock was drilling into your pussy, creating sloppy noises with every rut of his hips. your cunt was always crying for him. he loved to see how wet it could get. 

“like that, babydoll? fuck.. look at you.. taking me so fucking well..” his thumb tugged at your bottom lip, revealing some of your teeth. 

you whined when hanma’s cock reached your g-spot. the tip was relentlessly pressing against that button, making your vision become hazy. you were so lost in bliss. any stress you had could be taken away by him. “yes, h-hanma! i love it so much!” you cried, your eyes becoming glassy from the tears that formed at your lash line.

he changed his angle so he was now reaching further into your hole. hanma caught your lips and began to kiss you slowly. god, his kisses were just too fucking good. your fingernails then threaded through the strands of his dual colored hair, bringing him closer to you. you were already on your third orgasm, and your body was reaching its limit. hanma didn’t show any signs of halting, though. he needed you so badly. he hated that he couldn’t see you as often as he wanted.

the kiss was broken between you as hanma pressed his forehead against yours. his golden eyes that were like the sun stared into your own. “can’t get enough of you, doll.” he mumbled against your puffy lips. “i’m gonna fuck you till you’re pregnant.. with my baby..” 

the thought alone made your pussy squeeze his cock, which hanma gladly took note of. you were a bit surprised to hear such a proposal, but nonetheless did it turn you on. “yes.. please!” you put your arms around his neck, leaving sloppy kisses on his lips.

he smirked, then began fucking you at a brutal pace. his balls smacked against your clit from how quick his thrusts were. hanma could only think about fucking his cum into you. he wouldn’t care if his sister was pissed. he wanted you.

sin wrapped around your throat. hanma clenched his teeth as he finally released into you. thick ropes of cum filled your womb. he practically emptied his balls inside of you, and he fucking loved it. he loved how great it felt. no other guy would ever dare to do such a thing to you, so he felt proud of himself for doing so. you deserved it all from him. 

he leaned forward to kiss you passionately. you felt so full. there was a mess, but neither of you cared at all. “what do you say.. round four?” he chuckled.

© NXUVILLETTE ┆ all rights reserved, do not repost, translate, or claim as your own.

[churipu]

https://www.tumblr.com/ipinvrse/737019535695249408/hiii-i-can-ask-for-jjk-men-your-choice-with-a

This is great!! But now im thinking about "Looks like they could kill you, but is actually a cinnamon roll" gf lol

Could you maybe do that ?

JJK MEN + "LOOKS LIKE COULD KILL YOU, IS A CINNAMON ROLL" GIRLFRIEND

featuring. itadori yuuji, geto suguru, fushiguro megumi x reader

warnings. cursing

note. hi anonn <33 the previous one of this got so much notes and i'm glad you liked it as well omg, sorry this one took so long. i hope you like it! mwah mwah

ITADORI YUUJI. he's always viewed you as someone who doesn't need any help — so he only does when you actually asks him for help verbally. for instance, people have always viewed you as someone "not nice", the first time yuuji met you, you had a deep scowl painting your face that it made him nervous.

he assumed you didn't like anyone. so he never thought of striking up a conversation with you.

but yuuji grew to like you as time passes by, the scowl on your face was just a barrier to hide this "sweetheart" facade of yours. you're actually very nice despite the permanent scowl and furrowed brows. his view on you changed when you helped him after unexpectedly running to him around the corner.

"sorry, i wasn't looking where i was going," you tell him with a small smile, reaching your hand for him to take. and he did.

he swore that time he felt his heart flutter at the new point of view — ever since then, whenever he sees you, he's not nervous from fear; but he's nervous because he likes you.

the clammy hands that he gets when he sees you, or the way the tip of his ears turn red when you shot him a smile you wouldn't give to other people — or even the way he feels a smile tugging on the corner of his lips whenever he could hear your voice, both in person or through the phone.

when he confessed, yuuji didn't expect you to like him back. so he just told you he needed to tell you his feelings without listening to what you had to say, after that, he's gone — he ran away and hid in his room. avoiding you here and there.

not until you actually showed up in front of his door, a sheepish smile on your face and you were holding a small bouquet of flowers. when he opened the door, he expected gojo, or megumi, or kugisaki. but no; it was you. you were standing in front of his door.

"hey yuuji, you weren't...replying to my messages or talking to me, so i hope you don't mind me showing up here without telling you beforehand," you tell him, shoving the bouquet into his arms.

of course yuuji had to let you in, awkwardly pacing around and on his knees as you sat down on the ground, "i..it's a mess, i didn't know you were coming so i didn't have the time to clean up—"

"don't worry about it, i'm here to see you, aren't i?"

that day, you told yuuji how you felt the same. it was a small confession, but he asks you to be his girlfriend after that. today, a few months later — people don't know deep into your relationship, they just thought, "oh, y/n is probably the one who leads a lot in the relationship, she's always so serious."

but no, yuuji knows you better than anyone. behind that scowl of yours is something yuuji wants for himself, he finds it selfish, but he didn't care. he likes it when you only show your sweet side to him (not that you show it to anyone in general), and he often hear people talking about how serious you are that he could only laugh (they don't know).

if yuuji could describe you with one word, it would be clingy. he thought he was clingy, but you? god, you were even clingier than he is (in a good way) — he finds it endearing that you'd put up this tough look in front of other people, but when it's just you two alone, you turn into this cute girl he never expected to see. but he loves it.

so when people talk about how serious you are, or how angry you always look, yuuji would just laugh at them because they don't know you like he does (and he doesn't want them to know).

GETO SUGURU. everyone around him probably knows how soft and gentle he is. geto is a soft spoken man, and when he introduced you as his girlfriend — everyone was a tad bit surprised. as they expected geto to be with a girl who's also as soft spoken, calm, and not someone like you.

someone who walks around with a deep scowl like it's your whole personality (which kinda is), and would never talk to anyone unless spoken to. you had your reasons though, you felt like it was pointless to speak a lot, people can just use it against you, so you talk when you needed to do it.

but that doesn't mean you're a bad person.

it wasn't a surprise when you hear people often shit-talk about your relationship with geto and how he deserves better than you. or how there were so may girls better than you, or even how they said that you probably treat geto like shit. you always try to shut it down by telling yourself you don't care about these people — but geto, he's your boyfriend; of course he knows you better, maybe even better than yourself.

"y'alright, baby?" he asks, threading his fingers onto your hair as you laid in between his spread out legs, leaning your back onto his chest.

"yeah, just thinking."

don't even try to lie, he could see right through you. he'd hate to push you with something you don't want to talk about, so the first time he didn't push you to say it. he offers hugs and kisses the whole night, but when tomorrow your frown never ceased, he of course follows up on it, and when you tell him the exact excuse like yesterday — he just figured that he'll do it his way.

"thinking about?"

"nothing, don't worry about it. it's pointless."

you were about to get up when he pulled you back, forcing your head to lay on his lap, "'ts not pointless if you're thinking about it, yeah?" he smiles down at you and you puckered your lips out in annoyance, knowing one way or another, geto is right.

"'s just..these people have been saying things. and i don't like it, i try to tell myself they'll stop when they get tired, but they don't seem to get tired at all." he caressed your face as you explained what's been bothering you, "and i'm starting to think that maybe they're right, y'know? maybe you do deserve better than me, sugu."

geto's face hardened a little and he leaned his face close to you, "what was that?" oh he was so upset. but not at you, he was upset at these people, and himself — upset that he hasn't done anything about it.

"i... forget about it."

"what do they look like?"

"what?" you ask him, blinking feverishly.

"these people," he mutters out, his breath fanning your face — you tell him what they look like and thought nothing of it, "'m sorry they made you think like that, but don't ever say that again, y'hear me?"

you smiled up at him and chuckled, "you have my words."

geto loves that you only show this side to him, and he had a "talk" with these exact people. so now words aren't going around anymore, no more shit talking, just you and geto in a happy relationship.

MEGUMI FUSHIGURO. megumi finds your unshakable character charming, that's why he fell for you in the first place. when he first met you, with the apparent frown on your face looking like you despised everything that comes in your way, megumi found it intriguing. so he tries anything to find out about you, asking from his upperclassmen.

he skipped asking gojo because he knew gojo would poke fun on him for it — but at the end of the day, gojo being a teacher did help a lot, minus the mocking that comes after.

"megumi has a crush," gojo sings out.

"i do not." yes he does.

gojo is a loud mouth, so words gone around pretty fast about megumi having a crush on you. unfortunately, it reached your ears and you pulled him over when he was passing by, and in his eyes — it seemed like you were glaring deeply at him, so he finds himself a little intimidated by you.

"heard from someone that you like me," you started out bluntly, and that was enough for megumi to blush furiously.

stumbling over his words as he tried to reply back to you, he mumbled out a few apologies, but you smiled at him, "that's great, i like you too!"

it was an oh. oh. situation for megumi, he just never expected that his feelings would be reciprocated, by you. by someone who looks like she would murder everyone who goes in her way or sight — but nonetheless, he was pretty happy about it although he didn't show it.

and surprisingly, megumi finds a new side to you that he never expected at all. you being clingy, your lips plastered in a soft smile, and just..all flowers and rainbows and sunshine.

megumi was entranced. everyday he sees you, he just falls even more. at one point, he couldn't help but to let it all slip out, telling you how happy he is with all of this and how he loves you a lot. but that's a one time thing, he never did it again (he tries not to slip out again).

"gumi!" he finds himself catching your body, a small smile on his face, "missed you."

"...me too."

he's always thought you'd be more of a calm person (at first), with all that facade of yours, but now — he sees you as a whole different person, he loves how clingy you are, and he loves how you sometimes depended on him. it makes him feel like a boyfriend.

he's smitten for you.

but he won't say it, you just have to wait for him to let it slip out.

© CHURIPU 2023 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE !

[kteezy997]

can i please request a shy bf!timmy with needy and unhinged reader

he‘s just overall really shy, always nervous when he tries to initiate intimacy. reader on the other hand is open about everything, her desire, her masturbation habits and her dirty dirty thoughts. she’s not afraid to let him know the effect he has on her. she’d use it against him, telling him how she‘s going to get herself off when he‘s busy. maybe even nudes, lewd pictures and videos she takes just for him.

Shy Boyfriend-Part One//t.c.

A/N: I’m not going to include specific warnings right now, if you read the anon request, you know that this is filled with smut. It’s quite explicit, so 18+ readers only. Thank you!

Timmy was so sweet, hot, and such a doting boyfriend. But, he was always nervous when it came to sex.

You, on the other hand, wanted it all the time. So, you thought of ways to get him to feel more confident. You wanted him to know that you desired him madly and thought about him day and night. You wanted to do all the dirty things with him. You decided to be completely open and honest with him about your sexual aptitudes.

"I masturbate every day thinking about you." you told him quietly at dinner one night.

Timmy's eyes nearly popped out of his skull, and he looked around, hopeful that no one else in the rather crowded restaurant didn't hear what you had said. "Re-really?" he squeaked.

"Yeah, sometimes multiple times a day." you leaned forward, your elbows on the table, your cleavage in plain view for him. "Sometimes I do it while on breaks at work."

"Jesus." his eyes meandered down to your tits. "You're serious?" he asked, returning his gaze to your eyes.

"Of course. I never lie to you, Timothee." You leaned back in your chair, and picked up your glass of champagne, taking a sip. "I wish this was your cum." you said, raising the glass to him.

Your waitress came over just then, hearing what you had to say. Timmy let out a fake cough to distract from your dirty words.

The waitress set down your plates, not saying anything, but you did get to exchange a knowing, mischievous look with her. You watched as she eyed your handsome boyfriend. Timmy was the type of beauty that made people look at him a little longer than usual. You couldn't blame the girl as she scanned him up and down in passing.

You often wondered if Timmy actually knew how others found him so desirable. It was kind of hot how oblivious he acted to extra attention and kindness he got from people he didn't even know. Everyone loved him, women, men, young, old, it didn't matter. Even now you caught some of the fellow diners in the restaurant cutting their eyes at him.

The next day was long and boring as Timmy was at work for like 16 hours straight. You knew that work was important to him, of course, but you missed your man. You found yourself scrolling through your camera roll, which consisted almost exclusively of Timmy pictures.

Some photos were innocent selfies of your two together, some were candid shots you took because you couldn't resist. Then there were the NSFW ones that he and you both took during sex. You flipped through them, getting turned on looking at him naked. His skin was light, smooth, and beautiful, his hair a mess, his lips curved into a cheeky grin in one instance.

You came across a video of him fucking you doggystyle. It was your favorite position, so he fucked you that way often. You could hear his soft moans, his heavy breathing, and you could see the little beads of sweat on his hairline as he pushed his curls out of his face. Your pussy started to ache and throb the more you delved into the album.

You needed to talk to him; you needed him to know what he was doing to you. He didn’t even need to be near you to drive you crazy.

You decided to text him to start out: I've been thinking about you

aw, I've been thinking about you too. He replied a few minutes later.

I can't stop thinking about last night, baby. The nipple you bit still hurts. Did you know you left a mark? You smirked, thinking that definitely should get him flustered.

Oh?

yeah, wanna see?

yes. his response was quick on that one.

You giggled, and tugged the front of your top down, letting your boob plop out. You weren't lying, his teeth had marked the circumference of your nipple. You snapped a photo and sent it to him.

Fuck. his response was simple.

Will you kiss it when you get home, to make it feel better?

You could just picture him trying to keep his cool while opening the text at work. His throat drying, trying to swallow, biting his lip as he looked around to make sure no one else could see the photo you sent. You imagined him getting hard, but having to tuck his cock into his belt so his boner wouldn't show.

yes.

I want you to suck them for me, will you do that?

of course. he sent back, immediately.

You wanted to take it up a notch. You had to be bolder. I want you to send me a photo of your dick.

no way, baby, I can't do that.

You were quite disappointed, but horny, so you had to work harder for what you wanted. you sent him pouty face emojis and texted: but why?

because I'm at work, silly girl. you'll see me later. I promise I'll take care of you and make up for biting too hard.

His promise turned you on even more. How dare he! You were feeling especially bratty and needy, so you responded: no! I want to see your cock now

baby, I told you I can't. I'm working, princess.

You loved how endearing he was and how he used little pet names for you. But you were getting frustrated.

fine, but maybe I can send something to get you change your mind?

something… like what?

You proceeded to leaving your boyfriend hanging for a while. You removed all of your clothes, set up your phone to frame the scene perfectly, and spread your legs for the camera. You were soaking wet already, and your fingers glided along your pussy easily.

"Mm, Timmy." you purred his name, imagining his fingers were in place of yours. You used your fingertips to rub your swelling clit. The wet sounds pierced your ear drums and you knew that they would be audible through the video you were recording.

You palmed your breasts, cried his name again, and pinched your nipples. "I want you to fuck me, baby. Please, please, give me that big cock. I need it." you whimpered. You spread your labia with one hand and with the other, you tapped your clit. You giggled at the feeling.

With both hands, you stimulated your clit, and pushed a finger into your hole. "Ughhh." you moaned. You leaned your head back, licking your lips. Your fingers were no match for Timmy's cock, but it was the best you were going to get right now.

You picked up the pace, fingering yourself harder and faster. You moaned and whimpered his name over and over. You pumped your fingers as fast as you could, and you trembled, your body shaking as you came. You panted softly as you came down from the high, and you grinned at the camera.

You sent the video to Timmy, and you felt much better after an orgasm. You were able to relax and watch some TV as you waited for him to respond.

It was maybe an hour later, and you received a video from Timmy.

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @bitchyunknownuser @lixzey @kpopgirlbtssvt @ducktapebar

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

HAL, HEAR ME OUT !!! ghost coming home to wis wife on Easter, he thought he wouldnt manage to come back home in time, but Price dismisses him earlier, so he decides to surprise her by making a egg hunt for her, something she always said she liked to do when she was little, I KNOW THIS IS A SPECIFIC REQUEST, FEEL FREE TO DENY DEARIE, i just really love easter loool (and simon too)

love ur works, hal ❤

A Good Man

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader

Synopsis: If such a thing as a good man existed, Simon Riley knew he was not it.

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: Self-deprecating thoughts, allusions to Simon's past & trauma, delving into his psyche, angst, but a lot of fluff, Simon's POV

A/N: I knew I had to get this out before Easter actually came around so here it is early, Anon! This was an adorable request. Enjoy and have a happy holiday! <3

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

If such a thing as a good man existed, Simon Riley knew he was not it. 

Skin shredded; showing every tear and rip with a thinly veiled sense of pride along with a detailed description of every bullet wound and burn. Rope tears along the forearms and red stab marks over the visible spine of his back. Tattoos that depict skeletons and war. He couldn’t tell you every life he had ended, but he could name names until his tongue went black and fell off; though he spared you the details. 

Simon Riley was a devil incarnate. Dead-eyed and robust of body. Muscles wound with promised death and the trigger finger to prove it. His life was measured in an hourglass, the sand cascading down like the blood from his knife after a kill; it would stop flowing, one day – abrupt and final. Simon Riley was a demon, a monster. Simon Riley was a Ghost. 

A ghost with an impeccable memory and a deep love for the woman currently on the living room couch. 

The man blinks, slate eyes taking in the steady rise and fall of your chest with a slow melting of his shoulders. He had a doubt that you had planned to fall asleep with the Tv on – or the floor lamp, for that matter. 

Its golden light slipped over your form, and he traced the flow of it as the voice of the news anchor went in one ear and out the other. Gradually, a hand slipped to the balaclava over his head as your lips let loose a grumble, nose nuzzling the feather pillow. 

Simon often found himself watching you sleep when he was home; how your face would lose all tension in those brief intermissions between oblivion and awakeness. When his own nights were restless, it helped to know that at least someone was at ease, especially if it was you. The fabric slips from his tired visage, the mess of blonde locks atop his head sticking this way and that; layered with the gleam of grease. As the black face-paint stains his sockets and spreads with a swipe of a stiff palm, the ever-constant cloud over his head peels back but for a brief moment of peace. 

His bag was still in the foyer, holding three months of dirty clothes and gear hostage in its zipped space; stained, and bloodied. The man himself wasn’t much better. 

It had been a long few months. 

Hooking the balaclava onto the belt of his cargo pants, Simon bends down on an achy knee, a grunt in his throat sounding off like a boar. Scarred fingers go to brush your cheek, though no words exit his mouth, no whispers of adoration. Just a glimmer in his eyes, a release of that furrowed line in the center of his forehead that seemed permanent these days. 

Staring, the faint twitch of his lips is the only tell at all that he was content at all, feeling your skin as a feather would slide over water. He takes down a breath.

There were few instances that Simon fully remembers from his childhood – most displaced in the back of his mind with a barbed wire fence and a door with no keyhole – though there is one he refuses to lock away. His mother. He can’t help it, and before he can stop himself the words are spilling directly from his heart to his mouth. 

Hell, he really must be tired. 

“She’d of loved you, Sweetheart.” It’s like he’s startled by his own voice, head pulling back and walls going back up, but that delicate glimpse was enough. 

A gravel voice and manchester accent bleed together to form some piece of the puzzle that was his pure adoration for you; small cardboard cuts and divots that had been given over to create a picture. Simon Riley was a ghost, yes, the Ghost, but he was never that when he was home. 

He was just Simon to you.

Blue eyes study the small smile that blesses your face when the man runs his fingers into your hair and attentively separates knots; your body unconsciously molding to his touch. With a kiss on your forehead, Simon chooses to not wake you. It’s late, the man reasons, and he knows how hard it is for you to sleep when he’s gone. Almost as hard as it is for him when he can’t feel your weight on the opposite side of the thin mattress he’s cursed with in the barracks. 

Against his better judgment, he’d learned to love your contact; your presence next to him and the way you fit into his arms.

As gently as he’s able, the black ink of his tattooed arm slips under your shoulders, pushing between the cushion and your limp body to lie still. The other hooks around your knees, and with a pause to make sure you weren't going to wake up, Simon lifts you as easily as a piece of paper. Your weight lays comfortingly against his chest, shallow breath hitting his neck and he thinks for a moment just how it was possible to love something more than you can love anyone else that came before. 

“Simon…” Your voice brings goosebumps to his forearms, his fingers tightening over the shirt he now recognizes as his own clothing you. A smirk runs over his face. 

Lips caress his pulse, a nose taking in his scent of canvas and sweat; a tinge of barely restrained corruption, a soul more damaged than a window shattered into a million pieces.

How can you stand it? How could your body instinctively lay into him and give redemption willingly? 

Simon grips you ever closer, using his own body heat to lull you back to oblivion. He didn’t have an answer – probably never would – but that didn’t mean he wasn’t forever grateful. 

But he was a stiff man; a stoic one. 

He slips through the bedroom door, navigating in the dark as if his eyes had built-in night vision, and hums out, “it’s me. Go on – back to sleep now, Love.” 

Air communes with a soft grunt, and Simon watches from the side of his vision as your lids flicker open and closed. As desperate as the fight is, it’s over fairly quickly when he lowers you to the sheets, cupping your head and setting in on the pillow. 

Soft fingers wrap his lower arm, and with trapped breath, Simon watches your lips connect to the pale skin of his wrist before your form once more goes slack; ever the stubborn one to greet him even half-gone. Weak mumbles stuck forming ‘welcome home’ and ‘love you’ on a lead tongue garble to nothingness like a gargoyle’s stone speech. 

“Hmm.” The Lieutenant smirks as the area tingles, preening like a bird. There are many things to say to you, but he settles with a mumbled, “Don’t hog the sheets. Gotta go take care of the mess first, copy?” 

You don’t answer, of course. With a delicate pet on your head, Simon exits the room silently to take a shower and organize his gear; closing the door behind him only halfway so he can still keep an eye on you as he passes. Ever the neat partner, he wouldn’t go to sleep until all were in their proper places – clothes in the washer, knives and various licensed weapons in the nightstand, and paperwork in the office. 

There was a sanctity in this. A way to get rid of the lingering adrenaline of being on Base or in the field – deterioration of the mind but in such a way it would be described as a boil to a simmer. 

All of it is uneventful. 

He enters the kitchen with only a white towel around his waist sometime later, flicking on the lights and running his fingers through his damp hair before bee-lining to the fridge. If there needed to be a list made of the things he loved the most, it would be fairly short – only three. 

One, you, two, the adrenaline rush of a good deployment, and, finally, your food.  

Simon would listen to Johnny’s rambling for days if it ended with an excellent heaping plate of whatever you cooked for supper.

Opening the fridge, the man’s eyes widen, shimmering with azure glass.

“Fuckin’ hell, Sunshine,” he breathes to himself, hand reaching inside the box with fervor, “you’ve been busy, then, eh…? Bloody feast in ‘ere.” 

The Lieutenant drags out a heaping plate of steak and potatoes – a side of greens covered in plastic and a sticky note on top. 

‘Save for Simon.’ 

The food didn’t look older than a day or two…did you save him some of your meals every once and a while just in case he would show up?

He grunts, re-reading your chicken scratch with a swelling of his chest and a foreign heat on his cheeks. Simon moves to the oven, preheating it and placing a cooling rack on a metal pan over parchment paper. Damned if the man would mess up your masterpiece; he’d reheat it properly. 

With minimal noise, he waits for the meat to be done and settles on placing the potatoes in the microwave with the greens for time's sake. Standing in the kitchen, his eyes gradually fall closed, their weight heavy. But his ears perk at the faint pitter-patter of bare feet. 

The sneaking arms around his waist don’t startle him, and with a sigh on his lips, Simon feels you melt into the curve of his open skin. A head connecting with his spine. 

“Thought I brought you back to bed?” He whispers, flesh melding to you like hot iron, a scarred hand resting over the one that’s on his abdomen. 

Your nose nestles into the burns over his back, and even if you couldn’t see it – the sudden sweep of vulnerability is nearly heard. You lay a kiss and think no more of it, but Simon shivers with beautiful agony; eyes gazing off.

“...Erm,” you groan, fingers tracing the build of his ribs, “needed to hold you.” Your breath stills – half-asleep. “You’re…here?”  

Simon chuckles, hearing it echo off the walls.

“I’m ‘ere, Love. Few more bloody cuts,” he breathes, “but I’m here.” 

“Good. Missed you.” A second of kisses and distant blue eyes. Muffled yawns into his flesh. “Didn’t think you’d be back in time for Easter.” 

Simon twists, aware of the delicate fold of his towel, and lifts your fatigued form onto the counter, settling you down so you don’t fall sideways. He blinks down at you, cupping your cheek when your neck gets too heavy to hold up. Your lids rapidly move, your nose scrunched at the overhead light and the man knows you’re only awake because he’s home. 

He utters out to you, faces close, “The Old Man let me off early,” and lays a peck to your forehead, holding his lips there for a long second. Mutters into your skin, “prickly bastard’s been antsy – hasn’t had a good drink in weeks. Was about ready to strangle someone.”

She’s warm.

His body slots itself between your legs, one arm around your back and the other placed on the counter. Simon’s forehead falls to your shoulder, and with a groan of satisfaction, he feels your fingers go through his locks; itching at his scalp dreamily. 

“...Dunno whether to thank him or send ‘em to a therapist.” You whisper, kissing his neck, unable to keep your hands off each other for a mere second. 

“Better to place money on the both.” His grumbled words are barely heard. “I’ve got two weeks ‘fore they need me back.” 

A soft hum is all he gets before the timer goes off and he takes down a breath, forcing himself to peel back from you and grab his supper. 

By the time the both of you are in bed, he’d nearly forgotten about your comment, and as he stroked your hair and felt you bring him closer under the covers, he remembers. He’d asked Price to give him two weeks on account of the holiday you’d loved so much – Easter – and had used the Captain's deteriorating attitude as a pry. It had been easy enough, the two had known each other for a long time. They knew their breaking points. 

Sometimes living around a handful of other men formed unbreakable bonds of brotherhood, and while that was true for 141, it was also a pain in the ass. People long for home at the end of it – a soft touch and sweet kisses. There’s only so long you can go with yelling orders into the same faces and playing Poker in a shitty safehouse.

Simon never thought he’d be worthy of it, a home, but here he is regardless and here he would stay. And he knew Easter was your favorite time of the year, and he also knew that Easter was…tomorrow. His dead eyes widened. 

The plan formed quickly, his strategic mind helping as it always does, and as he snuck out of bed and laid his lips to yours in a tiny kiss, a shirt was tossed on along with boxers. You never heard the door to the garage door opening, just snuggled back up to the pillow and an old t-shirt he’d placed in his spot instead; inhaling his calming scent.

—

When the sun had risen an hour ago and Simon had finished with heavy fingers. Groaning, the back of a hand meets a forehead, trying to swipe away sleepiness as one would a fly. But he says nothing, feet hitting the floor as he enters the kitchen, an object held in his palm that was quickly stashed in the breadbox.

This was childish, he knew, not at all like the deadly Lieutenant of TF-141. Like Ghost. The boys would tease him relentlessly if they found out.

“Simon…?” Your voice draws him back, and with a look over his shoulders, he finds you wrapped in the comforter like a mouse. “What are you doing out here?” 

The lie comes easily.

“Fixin’ breakfast.” Your eyes flicker to the open breadbox, eyebrows furrowing. A smirk grows and you walk over with a laugh living in your expression. 

“I don’t even trust you to toast bread, Love, go sit down. You’ve been stuck on rations for too long.” Simon only steps back, gazing over your head and seeing your hand pause. “I’ll make us some…” 

He watches as he loves to do, memorizing the parting of your lips and the recognition lighting like a shy fire. The man smiles then, and it is a delicate thing; an expression not tainted with sarcasm or deception. 

Your hand delves into the box and pulls out a plastic egg softly as if it would snap in two. 

It’s cheap, made of thin plastic and fading in colors of the shade of pastel pink. Chipping. There’s nothing inside of it, just a bare piece of holiday joy that never meant too much to anyone beyond children. But with how you’re staring up at him, Simon thinks all the searching in the bins from the garage was worth it. 

“What’s this?” Your voice wraps him close, and your hand holds the object close. Simon shrugs, digging deep into your vision. 

“I’ve the faintest idea, Sunshine.” The giggle flies to his cold heart and he pulls you to his chest to still the raging of it. “My guess,” he raises a stiff brow, “intruder broke in, yeah?” 

“Did this intruder have ears and a pink nose?” You ask, noses brushing. “A hop in his step, maybe?” 

“Hell if I know,” Simon grunts, eyes flickering away before he can break before you. “Best get my gun just in case – you’ll ‘ave to find the rest ‘o the bastard things, though.”

You kiss him then, and he captures the back of your head, holding you to him as if you’d disappear if he let go. He doesn't know what you did to possess him so, to make his thoughts be only of you even when he’s halfway around the world. Were you an angel? A shred of light made physical? Perhaps an embodiment of all the good in the universe? 

Simon had no answer, as he usually did when it came to you, and you sighed into him, whispering redemption to his soul. 

You said you loved him, and he said it back with every ounce of him that was untouched by death. And then you pulled from him with a laugh that could throw away darkness and disappeared with promises of finding the remaining eggs. Like a loyal hound of hell, Simon followed, pulling on the comforter to slow you down so you don’t trip. He would always follow.

The vision of a good life starts with a view of the present. Who you choose to care about; how you make meaning of nothing but a shared morning and a memory of youth. Simon does not remember much of his childhood. Most of the memories are displaced in the back of his mind with a barbed wire fence and a door with no keyhole. Cast away. 

Coated in fear and lies.

Some days he asks how he can still call himself Simon Riley – it’s the name of a dead man, after all…and then he looks at your beaming face, and his question is answered as fast as it was thought up. 

You deserve Simon Riley, not Ghost. Not a devil incarnate or Dead-eyed. A demon, or a monster. If there was even a shred of purity left in him, that was what he knew beyond doubt. 

Simon Riley was selfish, he admitted, and he was loathed to leave you…so here he would stay. Hiding easter eggs and giving veiled hints when you were close to one near the planted flowers in the backyard. There was a simplicity that the man bathed in – the blatant enjoyment of a plain life. 

With a chuckle in the back of his throat, Simon pushes off the back porch and makes a comment about how you were closer to the dead bird you had buried in the garden bed than an egg. A flick of your middle finger leaves him smirking, and he splays a hand over your back, angling your body farther north. The kiss left on his stubbled cheek makes him warmer than he wants to admit; cold eyes soften.

If such a thing as a good man existed, Simon Riley knew he was not it…but he was trying to be damn near close. Until then, the ring he had bought would stay in his office.

TAGS:

@blueoorchid, @jxvipike, @revrse, @shuttlelauncher81, @bruhhvv, @kittiowolf210, @aerangi, @spikespiegell, @ghost-with-a-teacup, @1234ilikecowsthanyoumore, @uberraschungg, @shoe1412, @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet @pukbadger, @omeganixtra, @gills-lounge, @voidinfernal, @sukunas-left-nut-sack, @untoldshortsofthefandoms, @batmanunicorns523, @icepancakes, @copiasratscheese, @besas-stuff, @marytvirgin, @misfne, @halfmoth-halfman, @lothiriel9, @anna-banana27, @jade-jax, @cl0wncxre, @john-pricee, @330bpm-whiplash, @lora21, @wolfyland07, @dilfsaremyfavourite, @levietc, @kk19pls, @semieitabby, @thriving-n-jiving, @cringe-kats, @n1choles, @gaychaosgremlin, @johnpricesprincess, @haleypearce

[penvisions]

by the grit of sandpaper {chapter 2}

Pairing: Jackson! Joel Miller x Patrol Partner! Reader

Chapter Summary: It goes without saying that your first overnight patrol in years happens to be with Joel Miller. But the conversation doesn't flow easily like it normally does, with your haywire emotions and his unintentional eavesdropping...

Word Count: 7.5k

Warnings: canon typical violence, canon typical language, illusions to past death, illusions to past trauma, blood, hurtful language, town gossip, rumors, negative feelings, pining, unrequited feelings, joel a little daft in this, reader is a little daft in this, heart of gold joel, carpenter joel, woodworking joel, artisan joel, patrol partnership, mild injuries, reader snaps at joel, lots of feelings, slight angst, hurt and comfort, joel miller's hands need their own warning, jealousy, three (3) instances of joel miller gently touching reader, intentional flirting, unintentional flirting, casual intimacy, urges to kiss joel miller get their own warning, protective joel, minor injuries, fluff, this is so unbelievably soft, reader is described as smaller than joel (bc c'mon), reader has a commonly used nickname but no assigned name, joel and reader pov

A/N: i just really got caught up in these two after work yesterday. i hope this chapter reads as well as the first one, i'm super nervous bc i want to keep it soft, but i did say there was slight angst in this! love y'all ♡

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

You were minding your own business walking back from the mess hall when you caught wind of the conversation.

It was a hushed thing, between two people right outside of the turn for the main street. Two women standing close to each other. You had been passing them by when your ears caught your nickname. And then your real one.

“Olive? What kind of grown woman willingly goes by such a silly nickname.” One quiet voice uttered.

“Tommy Miller gave it to her, on account of the trees in her backyard. Surprised she even knows what to do with them.” Another one, both of them faintly familiar. While Jackson was small, only a few hundred people, it was easy to recognize them. They were the ones you often heard while helping out with the gardens, offering trade with the owners as you all shared the spoils of your own personal ones tended to in backyards.

You knew you were intent on pulling your own weight to support and protect the town. Having been grateful for stumbling across the safe haven it provided all those years ago now. Partaking in the patrol rotation and helping out with anything around the town. You had made a life here, one that you had always wanted to try and salvage from the wreckage of the world.

But that didn’t stop people from being people. Rumors and gossip spreading as quickly as the virus that forced the world into small communities like this one. You just happened to be the star in the most recent bout, it seems.

“Yeah, but she does bring them to the markets and trade, so she’s not all that daft.”

“She’s going on the overnight patrol. With Joel Miller.” A whispered reveal, as if it was a death sentence, something that couldn’t be spoken at a regular volume lest it manifest into something.

“Hopefully she doesn’t get-“

“He’s so much more capable, they already saddle him with her for two of his mornings shifts.”

“And now they’re putting her with him for one of the most important ones, what are they thinking.”

“She’s a dear, truly, but she’s going to lose it. Just like she did all those years ago.”

“If she’s the only one that comes back…”

“Marsha, hush, you can’t speak that way. He’s capable enough for the both of them.”

Oh, they weren’t just talking about mundane stuff. They were talking about that. Your chest tightened as you realized they didn’t have any faith in your skills, in the risks you took every time you went beyond the gates to ensure their safety.

Turning back the way you came, not able to face walking past the two women huddled close together and talking so casually about the things that kept you up at night and made sleep hard to come by. You walked straight into a broad chest smelling far too familiar. Smelling like Joel. A grunt that sounded way too baritone and way too close sprung into the evening air at the contact much like your wheezing gasp.

“Woah there, sweetheart, where’s the fire?” Large hands skimmed over your back, arms encasing you, and making you feel a little light-headed, righting your balance as you began to waver from the sudden contact. Oh no, not that honeyed drawl, not that voice, not that tender nickname, not him, not now.

Your composure was already slipping, and you didn’t think you could hold on to what little you had left if he were to ask you if you were alright. The need, the want to answer his questions always winning out.

But you couldn’t, not this time.

“I-I’m fine, just forgot- something.”

“Hey.” And you stopped trying to step back. His hands came up from around your arms where he had grabbed you, cradling your face and tilting you to look at him. His features were softened, the wrinkles beside his eyes and in his forehead creased as he looked you over, making sure you were okay. But you weren’t and you didn’t want him to know. Spurred on by the sound of two voices that had caused all this rounding onto the street, you ignored the fluttering of your heart, the way your breath had caught in your throat, the way he had been touching you and fled.

“See you to-tomorrow!” You managed to squeak out as you stepped away from him, avoiding looking at him directly, his arms falling back to his sides. You weren’t sure if he was trying to catch your eyes, not raising them past his chest as you walked around him. His gaze was heavy on you, following you as you took off down the street in a roundabout way to get back to the streets lined with houses.

“Tommy, please.” Your voice was small, an imitation of what it normally sounded like, and Joel stopped in his tracks. He had a bag of things for Maria, for his brother that he had wanted to drop off before retiring for the night. He tried to quiet his breathing, standing as still as a statue in the back part of the hallway of their house, your voice carrying in from the open sliding door that led out to the sunroom.

He had just run into you down by the shops, or more accurately you had run into him. Literally. His mind had blanked at the feel of your body against his own, the soft press of you up against his chest, the feel of your warm breath fanning over the skin of his neck. And not for the first time, he thought of how well you would fit into him. How well his body could wrap around yours.

He had noticed that while around town you were hesitant to let anyone so much as clap a hand over your shoulder. Aside from the children, whose hands you gladly held with kind smiles and whose arms you welcomed around your shoulders with laughter. Tommy and Maria being the only ones he had witnessed you embracing in quick hugs.

He was always so careful with you, not allowing for direct contact to linger. It always made his heart thunder in his ears, and he wasn’t sure if you were okay with it, the casual touching. You never shied away from him, from the skimming of his fingers against your own or the more recent indulgences he had given into with the touch of his hand or the touch of his lips to minor injuries. He wasn’t ashamed to admit it delighted him to see the way your lashes fluttered and the feel of your breath hitching. He was a man after all, and he was one who was a fool for the jittery feelings you stirred in him. Even if he worried for them at the same time.

“Olive, you can’t let their words get to you.” His brother’s voice was calm, assuring you of the worries you shared with the man.

“But they’re right, Tommy!” Your voice rose to the highest volume Joel had ever heard and then wavered to nothing. More hiccups and sniffling sounding through the door. A particularly harsh hiccup sounded, startling him as he realized you were crying. Chest tight, Joel couldn’t even picture it. The thought of tears running down your upset face steeled his heart. He clenched his hands tight over the handle of the bag in his grip as he heard the shuffle of movement. He couldn’t see through the glass for the curtain fluttering in the evening breeze.

Joel was turning on his heel as your sniffles grew into sobs, moving as quietly as he could back through the house. He set the bag atop the kitchen counter and closed the front door behind him as gently as he could to not garner your or his brother’s attention. He had already heard more than he had meant to, the sound of your distressed voice beckoning him to you as he felt the need to console you. To make whatever it was better.

He knew you had been acting off earlier, just moments ago. From your wild eyes to the way you had been so distracted, the stutter to your voice.

But you were a private person, indulging him in his silly, earnest questions while out on patrol. But this?

This was something you definitely would not someone overhearing, and he respected that. He knew all too well the things people kept to themselves, things that were never exposed to the light of day, spoke of in front of others. And he didn’t want to betray the trust you seemed to have in him by hiding behind a curtain while you fell apart in front of someone who already knew of your struggles and ghosts.

He only hoped that one day…you would feel safe enough and comfortable enough with him to help you shoulder their weight. Because he knew not every patrol went smoothly, how could they, when the whole point of them was to keep up with any possible threats.

Once back in his own home, he found Ellie fast asleep on the couch with a movie playing on the modest television and a sketchbook dangling from her fingers. He removed his boots and then his coat, catching a whiff of the scent of you on his clothing. Light, slightly floral, sweet. You must’ve been tending to the garden he knew you kept in your yard earlier that day. Or baking something like you were apt to do.

With a sigh, he turned off the movie and closed the sketchbook to set it atop the table in front of the couch before moving into the kitchen. The slice of pie you had given him the other day was somehow still in the container you had fumbled for. Ellie must’ve known it was from you because she hadn’t said anything or tried to steal it. Knowing Joel liked to enjoy the treats you shared with him in the evenings with a cup of coffee.

So, he did, as he sat in his work room and began to sketch out some simple designs. He would fill your whole kitchen with whatever you wanted if it meant he would never have to encounter your tears again.

“They- they said I’m going to get him killed, that I shouldn’t even be on the no-normal patrol rotation.”

“It’s okay, everything’s going to be okay.” Tommy tried to console you, taking in the situation and your words a best he could. But you had rushed through them, explaining in bits and pieces. You were emotionally charged, worked up, and nearly trembling. You thought you had worked through this, at least enough to be okay on the day-to-day front. But those two women, Marsha and her friend, had taken you back to the wave of everything as if it had just happened.

You were scared. Because they were right, you were dangerous. There was the very real possibility that you could cause harm to Joel, and you didn’t even want to begin to entertain thoughts like that. He…he was good and you didn’t want to be the cause of the man’s downfall. A promise to his brother to fill a spot on patrol spiraling into the current situation and it hadn’t even happened yet. It was supposed to, first thing in the morning.

“No, it’s not, Tommy. Everyone in town thinks I’m going to get him killed. That I got Aiden killed.” The name was foreign falling from your lips after not speaking it for so long. It was something you hadn’t been able to do since that patrol so many years ago now. “I ca-can’t stomach the thought of him getting injured because of me, because I’m not good enough to protect him. He does so much more for this town, he’s important. He deserves someone alongside him that will be a help not a hindrance.”

“You listen to me, and you hear me,” Tommy’s voice was firm, wide eyes focused and mouth a thin line as he spoke to you. Soft undercurrents of assurance in his tone. And you knew what he was about to say. It was always the same thing, the same sentiment, reassurance that it hadn’t been your fault. It had just been the circumstances, the world operating as it tended to do now. Unfairly. “Honey, it wasn’t your fault that those people found you. You cover your tracks well, hey, you do, okay?”

“I had been so focused on him, I didn’t, Tommy I didn’t hear them come up on us. Not their horses, not their footsteps, I didn’t even hear the gunshot until he was falling over.” Footsteps on the wooden floor thudding as you pacing back and forth, arms crossed over your chest and shaking your head in the way that you did when the thoughts got too overwhelming.

“But it wasn’t your fault. It was a messy situation, they happen. Hey, honey, they happen even to the best of us.” Tommy reached for you, standing from the chair he had taken beside you when you arrived in a flurry. Ushering you to the sun room at the back of the first floor, furthest away from the main bedroom upstairs. Maria had been in bed all day, not feeling well and had finally found the peace of sleep after an early dinner. His arms were wrapping around you and you allowed him to pull you into his chest, face pressing into his sweater.

“I should’ve been looking! I should have been more aware…”

“Shh, it’s okay, the patrol is going to go okay.” He rested his chin on the crown of your head and felt your hands tangle in the front of his clothing. “Everything is going to be okay.”

“You, ah, you…been okay?” Joel tried to break the uncharacteristically tense silence in an easy move, with a relatively harmless question. He had been up all night, wondering and worrying about this being the first longer route with you. Not that he didn’t trust in your skills and ability, but that he didn’t trust in the secrecy around why you didn’t do the longer routes. Of the things he overheard in his brother’s house just last night. Tommy had claimed that if he was to know, it had to come from you. That it wasn’t the younger man’s story to tell and Joel was trying to respect that.

And if that hadn’t sent alarm bells to rumble low in his mind, then your behavior this morning would’ve.

You hadn’t been at your house when he went to pick you up, the windows dark and the door locked. He had knocked, thinking maybe you had overslept. He had found you at the stables, cursing at the clasps of the saddle that weren’t cooperating with your ministrations to secure them. The way that you jumped when he cleared his throat and greeted you, wide eyes settling on him and body tense as if having expected someone else. Someone you had to protect yourself against, if the hand flying to your holstered gun was any indication.

Definitely concerning.

The sound of twin sets of hooves the only sound for the last fifteen miles or so. You had been content, or as well as could be considering the circumstances, beside him. Wide-brimmed hat drawn low to shadow over most of your face, body on a constant swivel as you took in the new to you surroundings. The landscape covered in autumnal tones. It was beautiful, the warm reds, oranges, and yellows of the changing trees. But it was also deadly, threats hidden within the lush tree line, just over the rolling hills, waiting for the opportune moment to strike.

“Been okay.” Was your short answer, not feeling like you knew how to hold a causal conversation anymore. Not since seeing the man’s craft had cropped up in his brother’s home and the way in which he had denied your part in the idea. That paired with the anxiety of being so far out from the settlement wasn’t sitting well. “You been okay?”

“Yeah, of course. Just busy, you know?”

“You hardly ever take a moment, see you and hear talk of you bouncing around so much. Everyone must really appreciate you willing to help. The skills you have, they mean so much. They allow us a better chance to not just survive, but to live.” You wished he could see it, the way children would stare transfixed as him and Tommy led a team of people through creating things the way that they did. From foundations to frames, tiling roofs and securing windows into place. It meant growth, the ability to rebuild, it meant anticipation of the future beyond just a few days. And he helped to provide that for the settlement with the use of his hands and the skills comprised in his head.

He only hummed in response, as if he was disbelieving of the sentiment behind your words.

And then, of course:

“Is…is there a reason why you don’t do the overnight routes?” It was a cautious one, though you could hear the undertones of concerns that coated his polite curiosity. And undercurrent of worry in his beautiful eyes that had turned amber in the sunlight you caught sight of with a quick glance when he had continued to speak.

But his question was ill timed, everything too raw in you to indulge in it at the moment.

“Joel, that’s none of your business.” You felt the easy smile fade from your face as you turned away from the man. You ignored the inclination to face him, feeling the weight of his eyes watch the way you squared your shoulders. Searching for signs of something you weren’t quite sure of. You were always willing to chat with him, about everyday stuff and the heavier stuff should one of you need to vent or rant. Never talking about it back inside the walls and surrounded by the people you went out to protect. But this?

You couldn’t. It was too much, and you know your voice had turned hard, sharp.

“Shit, I’m sorry- we just, normally you’re okay with my questions. I didn’t mean to overstep a line.”

“Well, you did. Just drop it, okay?”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, I didn’t-“

“I get it, just, stop please.” Snapping the reigns, you clicked your tongue to get Lowry to pick up the pace of her hooves. Moving ahead, following the path that was slowly coming back to you as the event you tried to block cropped up in your mind piece by piece.

“Okay.”

It was easy, comfortable to be beside him even in uncharted territory and land new to you after so many years. Because despite the rough start to the day, having reached the proverbial fork in the road that would take you farther from Jackson you had been in so long, it was easy to feel like things might just be okay with him mounted on his own horse ahead of you.

Even despite his rather invasive question.

You felt bad for snapping at him, for being too caught up in your own mind to enjoy the time beside him.

He was always so busy around town, but out here on patrol; he was yours.

His attention not being pulled in endless directions of so many who looked to him for help and advice, for his opinion on something or other. He was so willing to take the time and fix, mend, build, repair, anything that people called on him for. He had just been trying to do the same here, now. Ensuring you were okay. Because you knew your behavior wasn’t normal. You had jumped when seeing him this morning in the stables. You hadn’t taken the offered thermos, not wanting the caffeine to make you even more jittery paired with your anxiety and nervousness. And it was silly because you knew he meant well.

He couldn’t have known the question was a landmine.

He couldn’t have known it was the one, seemingly simple question that you were unable to answer him.

He had fallen quiet since you asked him to drop it. And you felt bad. There was tension about him, in his broad shoulders and the grip of his hands on the reigns in front of him. His legs shifting more than normal as the muscles tensed and relaxed in a pattern you couldn’t quite make out. You had bothered him, with your sharp words. And you worried that you had broken some part of what this was.

“Hey, Joel?”

A huff.

“Did you finish all the coffee?”

“No, got your thermos right here.” He patted the bag attached to the saddle. You couldn’t have known he meant that it was truly your thermos. Always nestled between his own and Ellie’s, in the cabinet, in the drying rack next to the sink. Yours, and not just while on patrols.

“May I please have it?” Nerves alight, you chanced a glance. He had to have been lost in his own head, his eyes coming back to the present slowly as he cast them toward you.

“Only because you asked so nicely, sweetheart.” He leaned down to retrieve it, holding it out to you. You were careful not to brush your fingers against his own. Thinking that maybe he hadn’t been too comfortable with the casual touching that seemed to have grown in occurrence, even if he had called on you and pressed his lips to your wounded head. Undeserving of the attention he had deigned to give you, you didn’t want him to think you were doing it on purpose. Trying to impinge on his personal space in such an intimate way.

“You-your from Texas, right?” Of course you were stuttering, nervous to interact with him, to try and bridge the divide you had caused. But you still tried, not wanting to lose the dynamic you two shared, even if you had been in your head. Even if you had no intention of physical contact, you still yearned for the easy conversations you two shared.

“Right.”

“Did you see a big change between the seasons?”

He seemed to deflate, the tension in his body ebbing just as the quick beat of your heart did as he turned to look at you for the first time in hours. Calming, reacting to each other, softening in the wake of what had happened.

The village was just as you remembered, as the horses came up on a hill looking over it. It was small, a collection of long abandoned houses and businesses on the cusp of the national park that once boasted large crowds and endless visitors who came to enjoy the views. The mountains surrounding it were breathtaking, covered in the changes of the season. Looking for all the world a quaint little getaway.

Another hour and you found yourself working silently beside Joel to clear the buildings, searching for anything that could be of use for the town, for its inhabitants.

Another hour and you found yourself stood in the kitchen of a small house, rustling through the cabinets in search of whatever may be hidden within them. With a delighted hum, your fingers wrapped around the soft casing of canvas and you pulled it out from within the depths of the one you had crouched down to inspect. Joel’s jacket hushed as he turned to you at the sound, his eyes watching, ever vigilant and ready to strike sound something be wrong.

But nothing was wrong, you leaned back on your heels as you pulled the object out into the light of your flashlight. It was a canvas pouch, rolled up and secured with leather straps that had seemed to stand the test of time and decay.

“Oh my gosh, Joel!” You looked up at him with a pleased grin, teeth flashing at him as you did so. Giddy with the discovery. You set it down over your thighs and unfastened the straps, rolling out the canvas to reveal beautifully crafted handles nestled into small, slim pockets. His steps were quiet as he moved closer, shining his own flashlight onto the find. With nimble fingers you shut your own off and tucked it into the internal pocket of your dark green jacket, pulling one of the handles carefully from where it rested to reveal a sheathed chef’s knife.

The sheath was a little worse for wear, the plastic cover faded and brittle, but when you removed it, the blade proved to be in pristine condition if a little dull.

“Joel, these knives are so beautiful.” Your words were practically a purr as you checked the others to find them nearly perfect. The whole set. Each blade crafted beautifully with a wavy design of darker metal inlaid into a lighter one, the blunt side fading from dark to light. “These are classic Japanese crafted, perfectly balanced. A bit dull, but with some care and a good sharpening block they would be as good as new.”

“Oh, so you didn’t just dabble in the kitchen then.”

“Hmm?”

“You were a chef, weren’t you?”

“Oh, um, yes. But that doesn’t mean much these days, so I tend to downplay it.” You stood, the pouch rolled back up and secured.

“You let me go on about jarred tomato sauce and cereal.”

“I meant it when I said those were balanced meals, I swear!”

“Uh-huh, sure you did. Entertainin’ me, is what you were doin’.” He was delighting in the friendly banter, no true hurt or dismay in his words if the upturn of his lips on one side was an indication. The smirk allowed for that endearing dimple to appear in the pocket of his right cheek, much like his brother’s.

“Joel, no offense, but hush. Food is food.” You tried to make it seem like you hadn’t meant any harm, because you hadn’t. Food was food, back then and even more so now. It was a way to survive, important and so scarce a necessity these days. The abundance of it within the settlement still something that amazed you. The ingenuity of people to create and cultivate agriculture as a base function of humanity and community.

“I’d bet my left arm you didn’t used to think like that. Back when we had the choice between organic and fresh to mass produced and cheap.”

“Hey! Junk food was important too! You know how many times I had a family sized bag of chips for dinner?”

“No, sweetheart, how many?”

“At least twice a week.” Flicking your hand with two fingers raised up, you couldn’t help the bubble of laughter that sprung up from your chest. Fighting the wide smile threatening to break out on your face at the faux shock he displayed with a hand to his chest and a roll of his eyes.

“Which ones?” His brown eyes glittered in the shine of his flashlight, following your movement toward your bag left atop the couch.

“I was rather fond of sour cream and cheddar.” You could practically taste the tang of the sour cream on your tongue as you made room in your pack for the pouch of knives.

“I was a salt and vinegar man, myself.”

You just pinned him with a teasing look, one eyebrow raised up in question.

“That’s just gross, Joel.”

“And there she is, the food critic I knew you were.”

“Go to sleep, mister judgement. I’ll take the first watch.” You stuck your tongue out at him, waving him away with your hands as you settled on the couch and leaned back into the dusty cushions. His chuckle was the only response as he retreated to the only room in the house, the bed springs creaking as he settled into an equally dusty mattress.

You were already back in the saddle on Lowry and moving when it happened. Joel was adjusting the saddle on his own horse and hadn’t heard the shuffle of the leaves. The tree line was just a few yards away. And a trio of infected had just breached the end of it.

“Joel! On your six!” You shouted, reaching for your shotgun slung over your back. Joel was reaching for his own laid out atop the saddle when the horse whinnied, kicking her front legs out at the infected. He reached for the reigns, quickly trying to console the amped up horse when he was knocked to the ground. Your shot missed, his horse freaking out too much and you worried for Joel on the ground.

Your own horse began to fidget, but you calmed her with soft whispers and a quick pat to her neck.

Rolling away to avoid being trampled on, one of the Infected left caught sight of him at the movement.

You were too busy leaning heavily to the left to get a good aim at the other two as they began to tear into the throat of his horse, cutting off the distressed cries of the creature. Heavy body thudding to the ground, you fired two headshots before searching for Joel. But he was blocked from your view by the downed creature.

Careening your body over the side of your own horse until you were practically hanging from the side of it with your feet secure in the stirrups, you used gravity to aid you in getting a clear view. Your middle burned with the effort as you tried to get vision of the man fighting against the Infected that had him pinned to the ground. When you did, your mouth went dry. The claws of the Infected had managed to rake down one of his cheeks, blood bright. Breathing in, you aimed and fired.

The shrieking of the figure fell silent, and its body went limp.

Grunting, Joel shoved it off of him and scrambled back away from it with a heaving chest. He looked over his shoulder toward you, his eyes nearly black from the adrenaline, his plush lips parted as he tried to get enough air in his lungs. Eyes frantically looking him over, you could see the split in his lip from the distance.

Slinging the shotgun back over your shoulder, you dismounted and rushed to his side. Your hands reached everywhere they could as you tried to sus out any more injuries. The intention to keep them to yourself short lived and fruitless. Joel was just staring at you, no words coming from him, only the sound of his panting breath as he pushed himself up on his arms.

“Are you okay? You didn’t hurt your back when you fell? Kiana didn’t step on you or kick you, did she?”

The questions flowed from you in quick succession, not giving the man a chance to answer any of them as you twisted to take a kerchief from your back pocket and began to dab at his cheek as lightly as you could. He let out a low hiss as the skin throbbed, but he let you do it anyway.

“I’m okay,” He finally croaked, sitting up completely when a few tears spilled from your lash line. One of his hands cradled your face, thumb brushing them away. “It’s okay, sweetheart, you did good.”

Through your tears, you worked at getting the blood cleared from his cheek, moving to focus on his split lip and the drops of blood that had trailed down his chin. He let you, his hand falling from your own face to your shoulder, anchoring him close. When you managed to wipe away what you could you sighed, blinking the tears from your eyes as best you could.

His eyes were so soft when you looked into them, watching. Your breath stalled for the barest of moments as you wondered if he would wear the same open expression right before a kiss. Heat flooded your face as you realized you had dug your other hand into the soft curls at the back of his head to help keep him steady and his eyes dilated at the sound. Your sore body protested as you leaned in impossibly closer, chest brushing against his.

The long travel had magnified the scent of him, cedar and sweat dizzying this close to him and it made you want to bury yourself in his arms. To burrow into him and just stay there, enjoying in the warmth and safety you felt when around him.

His eyes fluttered closed at the gentle press of your lips to the scratch on his cheek, tension leaking out of his own sore muscles at the feel. Nose brushing against his own, you were suddenly overcome with the urge to press your other hand to his chest and press him back to the ground, to straddle his thighs and show him how much he was beginning to mean to you. But that would be far too forward.

Heartbeat tittering, your eyes roved over his face, gauging his reaction to the uncharacteristic display. His face was so handsome, the trimmed scruff dusting his cheeks a mix of silver and gray complimenting the tan of his weathered skin decorated with sparse freckles, a patch vaguely resembling a heart low near his chin. And you fleetingly pressed your lips to it, unable to resist. The muscle in his jaw twitched at the pressure, but he didn’t move otherwise, eyes still closed shut.

Despite the journey from the day before and an overnight stay in an abandoned building, you still smelled faintly of the woody, floral scent. It was stronger due to the tense situation of a few moments ago, lingering in the sweat you had felt bead up along the back of your neck and the small of your back.

He seemed to breathe it in, his inhale catching in his throat when you couldn’t help the temptation of pressing your lips to where his bottom one was split in a chaste kiss, caught up in mingling of your scents and the effect he was having on you being so close.

“There,” You breathed against him, fingers clenching around the curls in your grip, surprised he hadn’t jerked away from the rather inappropriate move. His eyes remained shut, as you leaned back to look over the entirety of his face. You felt a nervous flutter of warmth low in your middle, mirroring the words he had whispered to you in your kitchen just a few days ago. “All better.”

Your body was alight with the feel of his body behind you. His chest bumping into your back on every jaunt of Lowry moving over the terrain. You hadn’t been able to look directly at him, keeping your eyes downcast in embarrassment as you had helped him up from where he had fallen. Your hands small in his as you had done so, but immediately dropping the contact once he had been back up on his feet.

It had been silent for a long pause, no words coming from either of you as he gathered what he could from the saddle of the downed horse and you adjusted your own belongings to make room. Lowry had been rather worked up, deservedly so at seeing her friend and own patrol partner taken out in such a gruesome way. The beginning of the journey back to Jackson started off on foot, you on one side of her and Joel on the other, guiding her back at her own pace.

But somewhere after the first couple of hours, you had begun to drag your feet. The adrenaline of the morning waning and leaving you utterly exhausted. That’s how you found yourself seated in the front of the saddle on your horse, Joel’s firm body behind you. His height, even while seated, allowed for every other breath to rustle the hair atop your head. The wide brimmed hat you donned while on patrol hanging from the front of the saddle so as to not bump him or obstruct his vision.

But he kept his hands to himself, save for when he gripped your hips when the horse tipped your combine gravity on the errant downslope of the route.

“Get some rest,” Joel’s words were a haze as you twisted to wave a parting at him. Safely back within the walls of the settlement and having completed the patrol write up. The loss of a horse something you were sure wouldn’t be overlooked, even in light of how it happened. You could’ve saved her, but had been too slow to find aim. But the only thing on your mind right now was a warm bath to wash away the day and then the comfort of your bed.

“You too, Joel.” You turned back to face forward, feet carrying you slowly even if the desire to be unconscious was a strong pull to pick up the pace toward your home.

“Hey, Olive?” Hesitant, the sound of your nickname was in his voice.

“Yes?” You pivoted once more, taking in the way he was looking at you. Concern in his dark eyes and softening his features. The feel of his lips sparking through you as you lingered on them. But you pushed it down, knowing it was one-sided and would always be so. He didn’t see you like that, couldn’t see you like that with all the attention he got from around town. So many other people to entertain and you were just another.

“You can always talk to me, you know, about anything. I’ll always listen to what you have to say.”

“Yeah,” The denial of you suggesting the cutting board washed over you, deflating you even more so in the late afternoon. “But I wouldn’t want everyone to think we do talk. Seemed pretty keen on hiding it from your brother the other day.”

“That- that wasn’t why I said it was my idea.” His jaw jumped, the muscle clenching and unclenching, his hands mimicking the motion at his sides. A heavy sigh deflated his own chest. “I was…embarrassed because it was the first one I made. It-it wasn’t very good.”

“Joel, everything you make is well done.” You assured even as you turned from him and walked away.

“I’m so glad you came back okay from that long patrol, Joel. We would’ve missed your amazing hands.”

Joel tried his best to tune the woman out, Marsha liked to ramble to him when he called on her to fix things in her house. She was about his age, an appropriate age. Headed the gardens and yearly plantings, helped out in the mess hall, and tried to help Tommy keep up with the holidays in order to make the town feel a little more comforted. But today, her words felt weird. Like a backhanded comment to something he intended to figure out. Because it felt like it was about you rather than just a well-meaning sentiment.

“Excuse me, ma’am?” Joel tried to keep his voice even, tempered. But he could feel tingles of anxiety come to life in his chest.

“Oh, I’m just saying, everyone was rather shocked that you got stuck with Olive for Teton. She hasn’t been on anything other than her two morning routines in, gosh, such a long time n-“ He surged up from where he had been underneath the sink. The steady beading of water from the cracked pipe measuring the tense passage of time as he stood to his full height. The wrench in his hand pressed into his stomach as he placed his hands on his hip and looked directly at the woman who had been hovering over him as he worked. She had been idly peaking potatoes on the counter beside the sink, making sure to stick close to him like she tended to do when he was in her home.

But she had fallen quiet at the direct attention, a flush visible on the tips of her ears and the swell of her cheeks.

“Did you say ‘stuck with Olive’? Because I can assure you, she’s capable enough to not be talked about that way.” His brow furrowed as his lips tugged downward in a frown, unsure where this woman got the gall to sling around talk of you like this. To him, of all people. He wasn’t completely daft, he knew the women around town fawned over him. Both the younger ones like yourself and those closer to his own age and beyond. But he ignored it, because he wasn’t here for that, his heart didn’t soften for just anyone. And the woman in front of him was bad mouthing the one it had without him even realizing.

“I just meant that- since she’s so much younger and doesn’t have as much experience as you-“

“Hold on, lemme stop you right there.” Joel held out a hand, the wrench acting as a barrier between their bodies. “Olive is more than capable of being my partner on patrol. It don’t matter what her experience is compared to my own. And I don’t like the insinuation of her not being anything other than a hardworking person who willingly puts her life on the line for this town.”

“She just- there was an incident a while ago-“

“I don’t care what happened a while ago, she’s good to me now.” Anger flared, tinging his eyes into the deep, dark tone of fresh brewed coffee. His grip around the wrench was pulling the muscles in his hand, causing an ache that was becoming far too familiar a sensation. But he kept his focus on the woman in front of him, the one who had felt like it was okay to talk about you in such a way in his company, to him.

He was always polite, always lending an ear to what the people of the town wanted to say, allowing for easy conversation most of the time, but this was something he wouldn’t allow and the tone of his voice had shifted. It was assertive and left no room for interpretation that he didn’t share the sentiment of the woman in front of him. And then he thought back to the other night before the route in question.

Tommy had been consoling you, telling you to ignore the things people were saying about you, the rumors that had cropped up once your name had been added next to his on the assignment sheet. This woman had apparently been the cause of your tears, the fuel to your already present insecurities flaring and making you close in on yourself. This woman had taken the teasing jokes, sweet laughter, soft smiles, and easy-going conversation typical of time spent with you and stolen it from him. Tainted the air so badly that you had been decidedly not yourself on the last patrol and so wound up that you had snapped at him.

“She’s done nothing to deserve the way you’re speaking about her, and I would like you to apologize.”

“Joel, I- I’m sorry. I didn’t think it would upset you.” Her eyes shifted frantically over his face, realizing that she had offended him with her casual words. “I was saying that-“

“Not to me, to her.” He cut off her words with rough ones of his own. Past the point of caring about being polite and heeding everything the town needed his help with at the moment. All he cared about right now was you, and how you had been singled out as the most recent subject of town gossip. He tried to tamp it and he had gotten fairly good at keeping his frustrations to himself. Ellie being the recipient when she was particularly stubborn and bull headed, but she got that from him too. From traveling with him for as long as it had taken them, their entire journey now allowing for them to explore the softer and kinder parts of themselves within the safety of the settlement.

But right now? Joel felt like he was back outside of them, the need to protect and eradicate any perceived threat strong. Thrumming in him as he felt like what was his was being singled out and targeted.

“But-“

“We clear?”

Marsha squeaked out an affirmative, her hands wringing around each other over her middle. Without a glance toward the open cupboards beneath the sink, Joel gathered his toolbox laid open beside them and his flashlight.

“Need a new pipe, nothing else I can do at the moment. Tommy will be by before nightfall with a replacement.”

He didn’t bid her goodbye as he walked through the front of her house and out the front door. Leaving the shell-shocked woman standing in her kitchen with her heart beating rapidly in her chest at his rather uncharacteristic display of anger.

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[aninagirly]

The Art of Asking Girls to Pose with or for you

It happens more often than you'd think: guys asking me for a photo somewhere. It could be in the city, in the park, at a bar, or even in a store. While sometimes I agree, 9 our of 10 I say no. And it's not because I always wouldn't do it, it's just because most guys are clueless on how to ask.

Let's explore why girls might not want to take photos with you and how you can increase your chances of getting a positive response. 

This is just from my experience and I am just trying to help by talking about the things guys have done wrong, ok?

Why Girls Will Say No

Personal Boundaries: Everyone has different comfort levels with personal space and interactions. A girl might not feel comfortable taking a photo with someone she doesn't know well.

Privacy Concerns: In an age where photos can be shared instantly online, some girls might be wary of where their image could end up. We don't like the idea to be shown around as your girlfriend somewhere!!

Mood and Context: If she's having a bad day, is in a rush, or simply doesn't feel like it, she might decline.

Safety: Unfortunately, there are instances where women have to be cautious about their interactions with strangers for their own safety. Creeeeeps!

It's crucial to understand that it is always up to the girl whether she wants to take a photo with you. Respect her decision without any negative reactions.

How to Increase Your Chances

1. Judge Her Context:

• Is she in a rush? If she looks like she's on a mission, it's best to let her go.

• Does she need help? If she seems like she could use assistance, offering help or being useful can be a good way to start a conversation, for example if you can help her with a suitcase. Make sure you help her first, before you ask for the photo though!!

2. Make It About Her:

Use the context to show that you care about her comfort and interests. For example, if you're at a park and she seems to be enjoying the scenery, you could mention how beautiful the park is and ask if she'd like to capture the moment together.

The good news about this tip is, it really works any guy, no matter what you look like. Most girls don't care about looks in guy, but more about how he makes them feel. It's like the biggest superpower guys have and most don't even know it!

3. Be sensitive, dial down the creep factor

Don't come on too strong. Being overly enthusiastic or intense can be off-putting. Keep the interaction light and friendly.

4. Offer a Compliment (yup, those still work!)

A genuine compliment can go a long way. For example you can compliment her for the choice of outfit she made for a specific night out in the context she is in, like playing pool at a bar.

Girls put a lot of thought into what to wear. Showing that you are into fashion from her point of view and care about the effort she put in is a great ice breaker!

Try to make it about her and not about the clothes she has on. E.g., "I love how you choose a leather mini for this occasion. Such a cool idea." Not: I love your leather mini. Huuuuge difference.

5. Pay close attention to her Reaction:

Pay attention to her body language and verbal cues. If she seems receptive and positive, you can proceed to ask for a photo. Don't continue if she looks mad, regardless of if you think you messed up or not. Just say sorry and leave. Trust me! Nothing is more aggravating than a guy who can't find the exit in a moment like this.

6. Finally, the Ask: Make her 100% comfortable and be transparent.

When you ask, do so politely and respectfully. Always ask "Is it okay if..." or "Can I..." before each step to make her feel in control.

Ask if you can be in the shot or not, first! Don't assume she agreed on a selfie!

Turn on the shutter sound, so she knows you only took one photo at a time.

Always show her the photo right away so she can see how it turned out.

If she doesn't like it, delete it immediately. Don't argue. Just delete it immediately!

Ask for her permission to take a new one, each time!

If she asks you to delete the photo, do so immediately and show her that you've deleted it from the trash as well. This shows that you respect her wishes and privacy.

Remember, the key is to be respectful and considerate. A positive interaction is more likely to lead to a positive response. Happy photo-taking!

[five-hxrgreeves]

im dYIIIINGGGG with the adam warlock x quill sister! when he calls her 'little quill'??? with that accent of his??? so soft and husky??? im screaming at my phone dude aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa i need part iii right freaking now!!!

PAIRING: adam warlock & fem! quill’s sister!reader

POWERS: adapted from D.C.'s Stargirl, although in this instance, the powers are a part of you and the staff just helps you use them.

WC: 1.9k (woo a shorter one this time!) 

SUMMARY: your first meeting with Adam wasn't one that indicated that you'd become friends anytime soon. Your second meeting. . . wasn't great either. But, somewhere along the line, you would develop a soft spot for the curious man-child.

WARNINGS: slight gotg three spoilers, badly written original fight scene, possibly ooc canon!guardians.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: OMG!!! This is my first-ever inbox message- thank you, anon! You made my day with this <3 I love Adam's/Will's accent; I definitely hope that we get to see (and hear) more of him in other Marvel movies. As requested, here's part three (even if it's technically part zero, lol.) I do take requests if anyone wants to send me stuff! (I just won't write smut, sorry!)

I hope you guys enjoy this part, although I'm not very confident about it since I'm terrible at writing fight scenes. It's hard enough for me to imagine original content (like the other two parts) but scenes where people move around a lot without the movie itself to rely on are very difficult for me because my mind doesn't think in pictures, but in words and I don't know how to describe fighting. I'm sorry if this isn't as good as the other parts. 😭

And on a side note, the 'no shit, Captain Sherlock' is another reference to space people messing up Terran lingo :)

Part 1 , Part 2

You were admittedly not in the best mood when you first (officially) met Adam. Peter and Mantis had left only days ago, leaving you to sort out your feelings alone. You were currently in the training room, fueling your sadness into anger at their abandonment. You often used your powers to aid you while you were fighting, but they weren’t much use during everyday life— unless you wanted to fly. Now, however, they were very useful.

Brilliant blasts of golden light shot out from the staff that your hands gripped tightly. While your powers could be used without aid, the staff helped you control them; Ego had made it for you when you’d become old enough to serve as his protector. Although you were disgusted with the weapon’s origins, you couldn’t help but agree that it made your fighting much more effective.

Each of your blasts hit the targets squarely in the middle as you turned deftly to conquer the row. A scowl was prominent on your face as you pictured each of your targets as Peter’s or Mantis’ face. (While you would never really want to hurt them, of course, the sting of their desertion fueled your thoughts.) You were listening to a playlist by the Rage Against the Machine— which you had chosen solely because of the band’s name as it mirrored your feelings. The music that was blasting in your ears was so loud that, if someone had been standing next to you, they could have heard the lyrics as if they were wearing your headphones themselves.

As you moved up and down the line of targets, you were unaware of the audience of three that had entered the room. Groot, Rocket and Adam stopped by the entrance to watch you unleash your fury against whatever enemy you were envisioning. The new leader of the Guardians gestured to you. “There. See? I told you she’s nice.”

Adam hesitated, clearly uncertain. “She looks mad.”

“I am Groot,” Groot agreed.

“Shut up,” Rocket retorted, glaring slightly at the tree who was supposed to be helping his case. “She won’t hurt goldie. You’ve already seen her bad side, haven’t you? This is nuthin’.”

The golden boy had to admit that Rocket was right; he remembered only too well his first encounter with you as you’d jumped in to help your friends fight off his unexpected attack.

--

He’d just defeated the stupid tree-like thing and as it scuttled away like a demented spider, the faint sound of a whistle pierced through the air. An arrow shot out of nowhere, harmlessly bouncing off his skin and only annoying him more than anything else. He looked around sharply, but there didn’t seem to be anyone brave enough to fight him in the vicinity. “Hey! Who threw that?”

He scoffed when there was no answer, stalking towards where he’d last seen his target. But before he could get very far, a force came out of nowhere— this time much stronger than an errant arrow. It knocked him off his feet like a bullet and together they were sent flying through the town, which elicited more cries of fear from the citizens.

He landed harshly against a building that got in the way and debris fell on top of him from the force of the collision. Adam grunted irritably; this was the second time during this fight that his enemy thought that throwing him into a building would be enough to deter his attack— didn’t they ever learn? He stood and shook the dust off his clothes before he strode back out to the street to face this new opponent. Except— it wasn’t the same blue person from before.

The golden boy stared at the other person with disbelief, the only thing that he could come up with was: “you’re a girl!”

She scoffed. “Yeah, no shit, Captain Sherlock.” She twirled the staff in her hands expertly between her fingers before she set the butt down on the ground. It glowed softly as it lit up with her power, her face set. “Let’s do this thing.”

Adam had no qualms about fighting a girl, so they charged at each other without hesitation. He thought she’d be as easy to take down as her teammates but when they collided, she merely used her staff as a shield against his attack. They paced across the open space as they exchanged blows, the girl using her staff offensively and defensively interchangeably. As she flipped neatly out of the way of one of his advances, he began to see how evenly matched they were.

“You are stalling,” he realized. “If you just hand over your friend, we would not have to fight.”

The girl paused, flicking some of her hair out of her eyes. “Oh. Well, in that case—”

She charged at him again, her staff catching on his uniform. She followed him into the air and her swift kick to his stomach sent him tumbling away from her. It was then that he realized that she could fly— just like him— and that was what had powered her initial attack. In the time it took for him to recover from the spin, a blast of golden light was sent his way. Because of his more durable skin, though, the light only felt like volts of electricity rather than something that could do actual damage. The most effective part of her power was the blast itself, which he had to fight through to get closer to her.

Now that he knew where her power came from, he made to attack her staff in order to knock it out of her hands. She seemed to sense his plan— Adam figured most people she fought went this route— and she countered this by trying to fly above him to push him towards the ground. He responded by grabbing the staff in her hands directly while she was mid-swing. The girl was tiring slightly, her breath becoming shorter as the fight went on and she was now on the defensive.

She tried to yank her staff loose from his hold but as evenly matched as they were, he was still stronger. The girl then attempted to shake him off by lighting the staff up with her power. If he hadn’t been such a strong opponent, the golden light would have burned through his hands. As it was, the little volts were barely something that he registered. While he could have easily swung the staff to send her flying off the end and into the ground, he held back the true show of his strength as she didn’t seem to be as resilient as the two blue people or the tree.

Instead, he tried once more for the diplomatic route: “you have fought valiantly for your little friend. If you surrender him to me now I will leave your village in peace.”

The girl’s eyes narrowed with fury as she continued to fight to free her weapon. “Go to hell!”

Adam sighed, having partially expected that response. “Very well. Have it your way, then.”

He smoothly jerked the staff from her grasp and carelessly tossed it to send the weapon spiraling towards the ground. He turned back towards the girl to finish her off as he had her teammates, but he paused. She seemed to hang, suspended, in the air as time appeared to freeze around her. Her eyes widened and, for the first time since he’d encountered her, a look of fear appeared on her face.

Then, she dropped like a stone.

They were very high off the ground by this point and the fall would likely kill a normal being. He wasn’t sure if she would survive, so his reflexes kicked in before he could really think about what he was doing.

By now, the shock had worn off and she fell through the air, she reached up to him as he was the only person who could help her. Adam put on a spurt of speed to try and catch her but she was falling faster than he had anticipated. The girl slammed into the ground and lay still just as he landed next to her. He told himself that saving her wasn’t his mission, and her incapacitation only made obtaining his goal easier. His mother’s orders echoed in his mind, so against his instinct he turned away from her in pursuit of the squirrel.

--

You felt a tap on your shoulder, startling you. You whirled around with your staff in a defensive position only to be met with the sight of your teammates. With a sigh, you pulled out one earbud but didn’t pause your music.

“What?” you asked shortly.

“Don’t you take that tone with me, Little Quill. I’m ya superior now,” Rocket replied, unaffected by your attitude. “I wanted you to meet golden boy here.”

You gave Adam a once-over, ignoring how the sight of his. . . attractive features made your stomach curl pleasantly. “Yeah. We’ve met.”

The boy in question shifted uncomfortably, feeling once again ashamed of his previous actions. Before he could say anything, Rocket spoke again, adjusting the straps of his jumpsuit as he did so: “well, I ain’t great with humie ages, but I figured ya’d be about the same. I thought it might boost team morale to see ya two hangin’ out together or whatever humies your age do.”

While your first response was to dismiss the whole endeavor— you didn’t want to get close to someone else just to have them leave you, too— but a small, traitorous part of your mind whispered: he saved your brother. Another part chimed in: he’s not bad to look at.

“Fine,” you grumbled. “He can stay, but he better not get in my way. I’m not stopping my training because of him.”

“That’s the spirit, Little Quill,” your captain said, choosing to not acknowledge your reluctance. “I’ll leave ‘im in your hands. Let’s go, Groot.”

As you shoved the earbud back in your ear, you could faintly hear Adam’s protest: “wait! You’re not leaving me here, are you?”

While Rocket’s reply was drowned out by your music, the boy’s words hit you unexpectedly; it sounded just like your response to Peter’s and Mantis’ disinclination to stay with the Guardians. Some of your anger faded as you glanced at the boy who stood awkwardly in your periphery. Despite all of his strength and power, Adam looked a bit like a lost puppy and his expression made your features soften against your will. Fine. Whatever. It wouldn’t kill you to be nice.

You took out an earbud again. “Well, don’t just stand there. I know you can fight, so let’s see you use those skills.”

At the reminder of your first encounter, he sent you a guilty look. As he stepped up next to you, he said quietly, “I’m sorry about that, by the way. For almost killing you.”

You patted him on the arm companionably. “Hey, no hard feelings. You’re not the first and you certainly won’t be the last, so just add your name to the list.”

All of the Guardians had forgiven him with surprising readiness and it seemed like you were no different— only, you were. His gaze stayed on the spot where your hand had touched him. There was a lingering warmth as if your hand was still there, the sensation sending tingles (not unlike the ones that he felt during your blasts of power) through him.

Taglist:

@repostingmyfavs , @trashpenguin

[carlyleandco]

okay my fellow Cdrama fanatics, I’m in need of some recs as someone who is still fairly new to the scene…

Historical Cdramas I’ve enjoyed

Story of Minglan ~ this show is my Roman Empire…like I don’t go more than a couple of days without thinking about it. Love how much depth there was to the characters and their relationships. I got so much satisfaction from watching Minglan run circles around every one else using her intelligence and wits. Every time Gu Tingye popped up in the background as her backup support I lost it! Talk about power couple.

Love Like the Galaxy ~ first historical Cdrama I have watched and apart from Minglan, I think it has ruined the rest for me. This drama has so many layers. Niao Niao is an intelligent, and opportunistic female lead. She is unabashedly herself, and the story is not afraid to depict her as unlikeable at first instance. I deeply appreciated the focus on female relationships and family. And Ling Buyi has ruined all other antiheroes for me lmao

Destined ~ I thought this one would be on par with Minglan at first, but it did lose its way in the latter half. I felt the female lead was relegated to the background, which was frustrating as they built her up to be this shrewd businesswoman and then we never get to see her in action. I did appreciate how wholesome and untoxic Jiu Si was as a romantic lead. I thought her relationship with the SML could have been drawn out more, however.

Romance of Tiger and Rose ~ I don’t think this drama is anywhere on par with the above three, but I still enjoyed it. Definitely a fun and unserious romp. Zhou Lu Si is just so likeable in all her roles.

Xianxia I’ve enjoyed:

Love and Redemption ~ I literally fell down a hole with this drama. I could not stop watching. Even though the female leads starts with that token immaturity Cdramas are known for, it’s explained in-world and she goes through a noticeable growth/stepping into adulthood arc. I also LOVED how powerful she was and how often she got to use her powers. Also the romance? Sifeng?!!? Yeah I was a mess. However, one thing that irritated me was the lack of agency Xuan Ji had toward the end of the show.

Eternal Love ~ it’s a classic for a reason. I loved Bai Qian’s resolve, steadfastness, and maturity. Her relationship with Ye Hau blossomed naturally, and they had different obstacles to face as a couple as opposed to what I have seen so far.

Love Between Fairy and Devil ~ speaks for itself, and I love enemies to lovers.

Extra: points if the female lead is powerful, or is on a journey to realising her power. Whether that’s through her intelligence, empathy, or in the case of xianxia, actual mystical power. Bonus points if she’s a character like Xuan Ji who can go supernova and destroy everyone lol

Historical dramas I have not enjoyed:

The Sword and the Brocade ~ I didn’t even finish this one. My overall impression was, having already finished Minglan prior, eating cardboard after having been to a 5 star Michelin restaurant. Everything was so bland and dull, even down to the cinematography.

Princess Silver ~ I dragged myself to the finish line with this one. The plot just became so utterly ludicrous and relied on the audience being invested in the main leads without actually letting them spend screen time together. I also hated that we had glimpses of the female leads power but that she never got to fully realise this. Just overly contrived and trite.

Xianxia I did not enjoy

Ashes of Love ~ this was the first xianxia I ever watched some years back. Given I was new to the genre, I think I found some of the characteristic features a bit jarring and I stopped watching Cdramas as a result. If I watched it again I may be able to make it through. Ultimately, I just could not stomach how naive the main female character. I understand this is typical, but it was another level of nauseating that I have not found an equal to since.

[rogueshadow1124]

CHASING THE QUIET MOMENTS

[Jason Todd x reader]

Summary: where Y/N and Jason stay content with the moment of peace they have. Reference to the song 'chasing cars' by snow patrol.

Word count: 1740

Warnimg: none.

The night was still, the kind of stillness that wrapped the Gotham skyline in a shroud of peace rarely afforded to the restless city. Moonlight filtered through the tall windows of an old apartment building, casting silver shadows that danced across the floor of a dimly lit room. In this serene atmosphere sat Y/N Y/L/N, her legs curled up beneath her on the couch, bathed in the glow of her laptop screen. The gentle hum of the city outside was a far cry from the chaos it so often descended into. Here, in this moment, it felt like time had slowed down, as though she had found a sliver of tranquility in a place that hardly ever knew it.

Yet the silence felt incomplete.

Her eyes drifted toward the balcony door, slightly ajar to allow the cool night air to sweep in. It brought with it a familiar smell, the scent of rain threatening in the distance, a reminder of just how fleeting peace could be in Gotham. But tonight wasn’t about the weather, or the chaos lurking beyond her apartment. Tonight, her mind was on him—Jason Todd.

Jason was not someone easily forgotten. The first time they had met, Y/N had been struck by how much of a contradiction he was. There was something magnetic about him, something that pulled her in despite her initial resistance. His smirk was reckless, his voice a mix of sarcasm and grit, but behind that rough exterior, Y/N had glimpsed a vulnerability that he kept buried beneath layers of trauma. Jason was a storm—unpredictable, dangerous, but also mesmerizing.

They had never been the type for grand gestures, nor had they needed to be. Their connection was built in the quiet moments between the chaos, in the fleeting instances where neither of them had to fight against the world. Jason, despite his vigilante persona as the Red Hood, always found time to seek her out, to collapse into her apartment in the dead of night when Gotham became too heavy for him to bear alone.

And tonight, Y/N knew he was coming.

The faint sound of a grappling hook catching on the railing outside reached her ears, and her heart skipped. A soft thud followed as Jason landed on her balcony, barely making a sound, the shadow of his figure looming just beyond the sliding glass door. She didn’t have to look to know it was him. There was a certain calm that filled her when Jason was near, even when he brought the weight of his world with him.

The door slid open a moment later, and there he stood, clad in his usual black jacket, the hood pulled down as his helmet dangled loosely in his grip. His dark hair was a mess from the night’s work, and there was an exhaustion in his eyes that she knew too well. He always came to her when he had nowhere else to go, when his war with Gotham’s criminals had left him raw and vulnerable.

“Hey,” Jason’s voice broke the quiet, low and rough around the edges, as if even speaking cost him energy tonight.

“Hey,” Y/N replied softly, a small smile tugging at her lips. She set her laptop aside, uncurling from her spot on the couch as she stood to meet him.

Jason kicked the door shut behind him with the heel of his boot before he made his way over to her, each step heavy, deliberate. Without a word, Y/N stepped closer, her arms instinctively wrapping around his waist as his arms draped around her shoulders. For a moment, they stood in silence, holding each other. Jason exhaled slowly, as though simply being in her presence allowed him to let go of the tension he carried like armor.

The silence between them was comfortable, filled with the unspoken understanding that no words were necessary to convey what they felt. It was moments like these—quiet, intimate, and real—that made everything else fade away. With Jason, Y/N had learned that not every connection needed to be defined or labeled, that sometimes just being there for someone, offering them a place where they could let their guard down, was enough.

“Rough night?” she asked quietly, her cheek resting against his chest.

Jason let out a humorless chuckle, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “When is it not?”

Y/N pulled back slightly to look up at him, her eyes scanning his face, searching for signs of whatever weight he was carrying this time. His jaw was clenched, tension radiating from him in waves, but his eyes—their usual sharpness dulled by exhaustion—softened as he looked at her. He never said much about what haunted him. She knew the broad strokes of his life, of the brutality he had suffered and the way it had shaped him into the man he was now. But the details? Those he kept locked away.

“Come on,” Y/N said, taking his hand and leading him over to the couch. “You look like you could use a break.”

Jason didn’t protest, letting her guide him without a word. He sat down heavily, the weight of his night pulling at his shoulders as he slouched against the cushions. Y/N followed, sitting close beside him, her hand still entwined with his. For a while, they sat like that, the only sound in the room the steady rhythm of their breathing.

If I lay here… If I just lay here… Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

The lyrics played softly in her mind, echoing the sentiment they often found themselves in. Jason was the kind of person who chased after everything—revenge, redemption, justice—but never seemed to catch the peace he so desperately needed. And yet, here with her, in these moments, it was like they were both finally able to just stop running. To stop fighting.

“I could stay like this,” Jason murmured, breaking the silence. His voice was barely a whisper, like he wasn’t sure he wanted her to hear.

Y/N’s heart ached at the words. She knew what he meant. There was a part of him that was always looking for an escape, always looking for a reason to believe that maybe, just maybe, he didn’t have to be the man he’d become. That he didn’t have to live in the shadow of the Bat, or under the weight of his resurrection. But life wasn’t that simple, and both of them knew it.

“I know,” she said quietly, squeezing his hand. “I could too.”

Jason turned his head to look at her, his blue eyes filled with something that was neither love nor longing, but something in between. It was the look of a man who didn’t know how to express the depth of his feelings, who didn’t know how to ask for what he needed. Y/N had seen that look so many times, and every time, it broke her heart just a little more.

Without saying a word, she reached up, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead, her fingers lingering against his skin. Jason closed his eyes at the touch, leaning into it as though it was the only thing anchoring him to this world.

“You don’t always have to fight,” she whispered, her voice gentle, like a soft breeze on a summer night. “You don’t have to be strong all the time, Jason.”

His eyes opened, searching hers for a moment, as though he was trying to find the strength to believe her. But Jason had been fighting for so long that he didn’t know how to stop. He didn’t know how to let go.

“I don’t know how to do that,” he admitted, his voice raw, vulnerable in a way that he rarely allowed himself to be.

Y/N shifted closer, resting her head on his shoulder. “You don’t have to figure it out alone.”

For a moment, Jason didn’t say anything. He simply sat there, staring at the far wall as though the answer to all his problems was hidden in the peeling paint. But there was no answer, no easy fix for the life he led. All he had was the here and now, and the woman sitting beside him, offering him a lifeline he didn’t think he deserved.

But maybe, just maybe, he could let himself have this one thing.

Jason leaned his head against hers, closing his eyes again. “If I stay…if I stop…” His words trailed off, the unspoken fear lingering in the air between them.

Y/N knew what he was trying to say. He was afraid that if he stopped, if he allowed himself to let go, the pain, the anger, the guilt—it would all catch up to him, and he wouldn’t know how to handle it. But what Jason didn’t realize was that he didn’t have to face it alone. He had her.

“If you stop, I’ll still be here,” she said softly. “We’ll figure it out together.”

Her words were simple, but they carried a weight that made Jason’s chest tighten. He wasn’t used to having someone who cared for him like this, who saw beyond the mask he wore and loved him anyway. It scared him, how much he needed her, how much he relied on these quiet moments to keep him sane.

But tonight, under the soft glow of the moonlight, with the city sleeping below them, Jason decided to let himself believe her. Just for tonight, he would let himself stop chasing the ghosts of his past and allow himself to simply be.

So they lay there, side by side, in the stillness of the room. The world outside continued to spin, but for Jason and Y/N, time had slowed down, allowing them this brief moment of peace. They didn’t need to talk about the future or what came next. All they needed was this—the quiet, the comfort, and the promise that neither of them had to face the darkness alone.

And for once, Jason didn’t feel the need to chase anything. Not the stars, not revenge, and not his demons. For once, he was content to just be here, with her, forgetting the world.