#then put a bunch of shelves over the blue

[heartyearning]

what colour should i paint my new bedroom knowing that technically im only allowed to do pastels but pastels are ugly

[nikkisheep]

Pretty Like That

Daryl Dixon x female!reader

Warnings: age gap (Daryl is in his 40s and reader is in her 20s), sexual tension, SMUT, oral (f), fingering, overstimulaton, thigh riding, unprotected sex, degradation (use of slut, whore), hair pulling, kissing, Daryl whimpers, insecure Daryl about his scars, slightly perv Daryl (he watches reader change)

Summary: After spending a supply run together, the sexual tension between you and a certain archer becomes almost too much and threatens to overcome the both of you.

Song Rec while reading:

wRoNg: ZAYN

Worship: Ari Abdul

Shameless: Camila Cabello

Daryl Dixon was known to have a short temper, and an even shorter patience tolerance. When Michonne and Gabriel sent him on a supply run with none other than you, he knew that he would have to keep his cool or he will lose his mind and he can't risk that. He thought that if he just ignored the way his breath hitched in his throat when your breasts bounce in your black tank top with every step you take to his motorcycle.

"Hiya, Daryl!" You call as you sling your bow and arrow over your shoulder before making yourself comfortable on his bike.

He just grunts in return before kicking the kickstand up and taking off. Your hands wrap around his torso and he takes a deep breath as he reminds himself that he needs to breathe through his nose or he is gonna pass out.

---

You hummed to yourself as you walked through the store in a small run down town. It was a clothing store, or well was once before the world ended. Clothes were hanging on the racks and then you saw the underwear section. It was perfect. You needed new panties and you knew that some of the other ladies at Alexandria would enjoy new pairs. You went to the shelves and started packing as many as you could before turning to Daryl when you found some see through lace panties.

"Hey, Daryl?" You ask quietly.

"What? Ya good?" He asked, small panic rushing into his brain. Hopefully you didn't hurt yourself. He had only left you in that section of the store for maybe five minutes.

"Do you think these would make my butt look good?" You ask with a serious face while holding up the undergarments.

"For fuck's sake!" He groaned as he turns away. "Don't ask stupid shit like that." He takes a moment before turning back around and replied, "Yes they would make your butt look good."

You turned away from him with a smile. You grabbed a couple more like that pair in your size and threw them into your pack. After searching a couple more store, you and Daryl started back into the woods and went tracking for something to eat. Night fell upon the two of you before you knew it and you looked for a place to set up camp in a small house just a few miles from the town.

Checking to see if there were any walkers, you and Daryl made your way into the semi-decent house. It was no where near perfect but it would be good for the night before you leave for the next town in the morning.

Daryl came into the house with some firewood and threw it into the fireplace. You looked around the house for lanterns to have light and lit some matches inside of them. Once the house had some light, it dawned on you that it was just you and Daryl in this house. The fireplace sent a yellowish orange lighting onto Daryl and his blue eyes shone in contrast to the lighting. You stood at the stove and was heating up some beans and bread that you had found in a store. You smiled at idea of living with Daryl and cooking for him. You smiled at the idea of a possible normal life as normal as it could be in the end of the world.

Sitting down across from Daryl, the two of you ate your food. Daryl kept his eyes on his bowl and didn't look up at you until you cleared your throat.

"You don't like me, do you?"

Daryl put his spoon in his bowl, shoveling a bunch of the beans into his mouth before setting the bowl on the floor beside him. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and then he turned his head to look at you. He fought to keep his eyes connected to yours instead of looking at your rising and falling chest. God he felt like he was a creep, like he was a teenager again. It wasn't him trying to sexualize you, he really didn't mean to but when you were looking at him like that, breathing like that, he was really struggling to maintain eye contact.

"I don't hate ya," He says, his blue eyes darting in between yours and the wall behind you.

You shuffle closer to him before placing your hand on his chin, turning his face to you. His eyes stayed on your face, suddenly he was at a loss of words, not that he had many in the first place but still.

"If you didn't hate me, you would be able to look at me for more than two seconds before scoffing and turning away," You giggle with a smile and then move closer. "What is it about me that you don't like looking at?"

You had the biggest crush on Daryl Dixon and you barely tried to hide it from anyone but him. He was tall, strong, handsome, and very, very good at protecting people. He had a hard exterior, but he was really a big softy for the people he cared for. How could you not like him?

"There isn't anythin' 'hat I don't like lookin' at," He says, blush creeping up his face. "I jus' don't know why ya make me crazy."

"I make you go crazy, Daryl?" You ask. "You have no idea how crazy you make me."

Your faces creep closer, you were basically straddling the archer as you pressed yourself closer to his body, desperate for his warmth. Your eyes flicker to his lips quickly before snapping back to his cool eyes. You wondered what his lips would feel like on yours. What they would feel like running over your body.

Daryl's hands came up to your face to move some hair out of your eyes and he cupped your jaw. He tilted his head up, barely, almost brushing your plump lips. Your lips part slightly, ready to grant Daryl's full permission to do whatever he wanted to do to yours. Just as the distance was about to close, your eyes closing, breathing heavily, a walker's growl could be heard from outside the window and Daryl all but throws you off him (not really much of a throw, just nudging you off him quickly), and he takes care of the walker. He stabs the monster in the head, blood splattering onto his face and clothes before he turns to you and then walks out of the house.

----

Making your way through the woods, Daryl refused to say anything to you. You had tried to make small talk but he ignored you. He kept walking as he scanned for prey, hopefully a deer or a pig. He didn't really care, as long as he had something to kill and take his mind off the way that you made him feel last night. You were so much younger than himself and he didn't want to seem like a creepy old man who would nut in his pants from just seeing your tits bounce a few times.

Daryl would have intense dreams where your tits were bouncing because you were bouncing on his dick and he was pulling your hair back so your neck was arched backwards and he would mark you up as his while you rode him.

He shook the thoughts from his mind as he remembers that you were right behind him. He turned to you to see you kneeling down by the ground, looking at tracks on the ground.

"What are ya lookin' at?" He asked, his voice startling you before you relaxed.

You looked up at him before pointing left.

"These are fresh tracks, looks like a deer."

"Good, let's go."

"I need to apologize about what happened last night," You said as you walked quietly.

"Shhh," He said.

"I really am sorry about that, Daryl, I don't know what overcame me."

"I said, shhh, girl."

Just as you crept down behind a fallen tree, the deer walked out from behind the tall grass and started to eat at the fallen nuts on the ground. As much as you were hoping to be able to pay attention, Daryl's scent filled your nose as you realized how close you were and you could feel your panties dampen at the sight in front of you. You looked at Daryl and saw his thick muscles of his arms flex as he lifted his crossbow and aimed at the deer. You watched as he licked his lips gently as he closed one of his eyes. You watched his chest move with his breathing. You noticed everything. You needed to get this deer and then get back home before you tried to fuck him right out in the open woods.

"Let's go home," you said as you loaded the deer onto his bike.

"We are supposed to hit another town just a few miles over," He said.

"Yes but we have a deer which will draw more walkers to us," You said. "Let's drop it off with our people and then come out again."

---

Daryl listened to you because he knew you would throw a fit and then he would want to fuck your attitude away. He didn't just want to fuck you, he wanted to love you. He wanted to come home to you every night, fuck you to sleep, and then cuddle with you as he tells you about his day. Before you, he never thought that he would want the "normal" life like everyone else. He never had anyone to come home to and he had become used to it. Now he wanted to share a home with you. He wanted to take care of you. He wanted to protect you.

While the two of you were camping out in the woods, your shirt and pants had been torn after a run in with a herd of walkers. You told Daryl that you were going to change and then you went behind his poncho hanging up on a branch. You thought that you were covered completely, but the poncho had other plans as it had fallen from the branch while you were turned away. Your entire body was on display for Daryl as you bent over in just your black panties to pick up a shirt you had gotten from the run down shop the other day.

Daryl knew that he should have turned away, to respect you, but something in his sick, twisted mind, he kept looking. He saw your skin shine in the bright moon light. He saw every curve you have and he wanted nothing more than to just mark every inch of your skin as his. You were his, even if you didn't know yet. He eventually couldn't handle it anymore and moved to pick up the poncho. His footsteps made you turn away but he had already covered you with the poncho.

"It slipped from the branch and I didn't want ya to be uncomfortable," He said as he stepped closer to cover your body completely.

"Thank you," You smile as you tilt your head up to look at him in his eyes. His hands were on your hips as he wrapped you up. You bit your lip softly and his thumb came up to release your bottom lip from your teeth, slowly stroking over it with such care. His eyes watched for your reaction and you had none but heavy breathing. He licked his own lips quickly and leaned in slightly, still checking your eyes for any sign of you not wanting his actions, finding none. Just as his lips were brushing yours, a hiss came from the fire as it died out and the world went dark.

He quickly pulled away and turned away from you. He cleared his throat and then muttered a quick "sorry" and then went to rebuild the fire.

---

Arriving back at your house after a few days being gone, you took a shower as soon as you got home. You walked into your room in just a towel before pulling out clothing from your closet. The shirt you picked out was one of Daryl's button downs that you stole when you were staying in his house before moving into your own.

Daryl walked up to your room as he needed to talk to you about the other night. He didn't know what had came over him but he needed to clear it up with you. He knocked on your door, thinking of all the things he would say but as soon as the door opened and you revealed that you were in just a shirt and panties. Just not any shirt, his shirt. His shirt was on your body. Your naked body. He didn't know what made him grab your face and pull you into a searing kiss, but he pulled your body closer to his as he walked you backwards into the room.

He kicked the door closed and turned you against it. He started to leave kisses down from your lips to your neck. He sucked at your pulse point and then your hands pulled his face back up to yours. His lips enclosed yours as you messily made out against your door. His hand went to the back of your knee and wrapped it around his hip, opening you up to him as his clothed core ground into yours as your hand found his hair. He let out a groan as your fingers twisted into his long strands.

Daryl's mouth pressed against yours as he swallowed your every sound as you whimpered for more. Daryl's fingers slid down to your panties and teased your clit behind the fabric. His fingers glided against your clothed clit in tight circles as you moaned for him, begging him to fuck you. A smirk came over his face as your head lulled back, opening your neck to him. He started to suck on your sweet spot as his fingers slid your underwear to the side and sunk in to the knuckle.

"Fuuuuuck," You groan as Daryl's fingers started to pump in and out of your body. Daryl smiled at you as he slowly kissed lower and lower as he removed his hand from your panties to rip open his shirt. He kissed down your body, slowly sucking on your nipples and lulling his tongue over the nipple before biting it softly, causing you to gasp in slight pain.

"You like it when I touch ya like this?" He asks, running his middle finger up your slit before popping it into his mouth to suck the juices off of it. "Fuck, ya sweeter than I thought."

"Daryl," You moan as he slowly kisses your thighs, your back arching off the wall.

"Move to the bed and spread your legs for me like a good littl' slut," He demands. The derogatory name made you feel more slick drip from your pussy.

Daryl slowly pulled his shirt over his head, wincing as your eyes roam over his scars. He goes to put his shirt back on but you move to stop him.

"Don't hide from me," You say softly. "You're beautiful."

You move to the edge of the bed and press a kiss to the scar on his chest, then the one on his torso. You lick up the one on his collarbone. You turn him around and you kiss each one on his back. You trace them as if you were tracing roads on a map.

"You are so beautiful, Daryl," You whisper against his skin before turning him around to face you. "Every inch of you is beautiful, even the damaged parts."

Something snaps inside of him and he pushes you back gently and he crawls over you like a predator to his prey. He kissed your lips and then he started to kiss down your body, tracing every curve into his muscle memory. He wanted to savor this into his mind forever.

"Did I ever tell ya 'hat ya make me crazy?" He asks.

"Maybe once before," You giggle but it quickly turn into a moan when he licks up your pussy. You grip onto the sheets, holding you grounded to earth before you floated away. Daryl notices you holding onto the sheets and he grabs your hands, making you think that he just wanted to hold them but he then moves them to his hair. He nods at you and then curls his tongue inside you which makes you cry out and tug at his hair. He moans against you and slips a finger inside your weeping hole which he then pays more attention to your clit with his tongue.

"Cum for me," he moans against you. His eyes watch as the band inside your stomach snaps as he continues to add another finger and play with your cunt. Your hips start to wiggle away from him but he pulls your body flush against his face as there is no room for any air for him to possibly breathe. All he could breathe in was you. He could only see you, taste you, and breathe you. He was alive for you and this sole moment.

Eventually Daryl had pulled two more climaxes out of you and he then starts to kiss back up your twitching body. He rolls over and goes to cuddle you but you lay there confused.

"We are not done," You smile before climbing onto his thigh. Slotting your legs on each side, you slowly start to grind down onto him. He sits up and places his hands onto your hips, helping your movements.

"Fuck ya such as whore for me, ya gotta fuck my thigh?" He says with a smirk.

"Please," You moan out, head falling back.

Daryl pushes you off of him long enough to take his pants and underwear off and then he pats his lap, beckoning you to come closer. You move into his lap and he places your hands on his shoulders as he moves his cock to be lined up with your entrance.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" He asks, making sure that you were one hundred percent certain that you wanted him to do this.

"Please, Daryl, just fuck me!" You groan out and then Daryl eases his tip into your weeping pussy.

"Fuck," You moan as you slowly stretch on his dick. "Please, just get inside me!"

Daryl looks at you for one second, taking in your face before cupping your cheek. He then snaps his hips forward and his entire dick goes inside you, kissing your cervix lightly. You scream at the intrusion and he gently soothes your hair as he speaks praise into your ear. He then pulls almost all the way out and then snaps back inside harshly. Your hands cling to his shoulders as one arm wraps around his neck and grip onto his shoulder. Daryl's arm wraps around your torso and the other hooks under your arm and his hand grips your shoulder, squeezing tightly as he pounds into your pussy with slow, harsh thrusts.

You head falls backward as Daryl's fingers wrap into your hair and pulls your face closer to his so he roughly kiss you. It was messy, all teeth and spit dripping everywhere. Your lips moved in fierce movements as they tried to keep up with each others. Your hips bounced against Daryl's as the two of you tried to get to the finish line. Daryl grips you tightly before using his body weight to flip the two of you over and he catches himself with one arm on the bed as your legs wrapped around his torso, your arms holding onto him for dear life as he fucked into you with punishing thrusts.

Daryl's dick moved inside of you in fast, rough movements, hitting your cervix at times but was always hitting your g-spot. Your head was thrown back as you cling to him and he moves one hand to the headboard as he stares down at you, your hair laying out around your head like a crown and he whimpered when your pussy clenched around his thick cock. He gently moved your legs down from his torso and spread you out further as he moved back onto his knees, leaning over through his arms to kiss your forehead before he reared his hips back, and snapped them forward, driving home in a hard thrust.

You scream in pleasure and borderline pain but it was so good. You dig your nails into Daryl's back as he drops his head into your neck as his hands are clinging to the headboard that was beating a possible hole into the wall as you plant one hand against the base of the headboard to keep your head from slamming into it. Your mouth is agape as Daryl nibbles on your collarbone as his hips slam into yours, surely leaving bruises that you will feel for days after this.

"Fuck ya look so pretty, looking at me like that," He moans as you throw your head back into the pillows, begging him for more, to make you come.

"You wanna cum?" He asks, one of his hands slipping from the headboard and coming down to rub fast circles on your clit, adding fuel to the fire that is boiling inside your core. Your body screamed for release.

"You gonna cum for me, pretty girl?" He smirks. "Fuck ya feel so good, baby. This pussy was built for me. God, I don't 'ver wanna leave it. Jesus, look at that. Your pussy is just sucking me in, she don't want me to leave either."

You moan at his filthy words before begging him to let you cum. Your hands reach for his neck and pulls him down to kiss him. Just as his lips brush against yours, the band inside you snaps and you let out a muffled scream against his lips. He was close already before you came but after feeling you cum around his cock, he knew that it was just a matter of time before he cumming all over you.

"Daryl, cum inside me."

Those four words made his hips snap faster against yours and then you felt him still against you, then a warm liquid spilled inside you as Daryl's body shuddered above you. You heard him whimper and groan as more and more ropes of thick cum spilled from his dick. Your hands rub up and down his back as you kissed his collarbone.

Daryl rolled over and pulled you with him, lifting you off his softening dick and then covered you both with your blanket. He kissed your forehead and moved the few strands of hair from your face and then kissed your lips.

"Can I ask a question?" You ask as you draw circles on his chest.

Daryl just grunts in response.

"Do you still not like me?"

"I swear to God woman. You still think I don't like ya?"

"Well, I can't be too careful," You smile up at him. "So do you like me?"

He leaned his head down and kissed you on the lips, soft and slow, before fulling back.

"Does that answer your question?" He asks with a huff.

"I'm not fully convinced," You smile before climbing back on top of him and starts pressing kisses to his neck.

"Ya're gonna kill me, woman!" He groans with a smile before grabbing the back of your neck and pulling you into a crushing kiss, rolling on top of you to further prove that he likes you.

Maybe he does like you. But who can really tell?

[mi-i-zori]

Nikto absolutely loves taking you on dates - except it’s rarely something you’d usually expect from a date.

His ideas are so original, and so him, that you never know what kind of date he’s gonna plan next. Which makes the whole thing even more exciting.

Especially since he never disappoints.

🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚

The first time he took you to the beach, you two had spent hours looking for a rock that matches the colour of the other’s eyes. Not an easy task for you, since Nikto’s irises are made of both ice and steel ; the colours so light and clear, even in the dark, that the darker, matte hues of a rock make it difficult to find a perfect match.

Yes, guilty as charged, you sometimes got a little bit distracted by seashells. Until you found one with the nacre inside intact, shining beautifully under the daylight. Then you found another, a full shell this time, and noticed so many colours hidden in-between the bigger rocks - pieces of sea glass, so bright and pale, so white and blue. Before you could even catch your breath, your hands and pockets were full of polished hues, and your smile wider than ever.

When you reported your attention on Nikto, you found him standing not so far away, watching you. His eyes glowed with a deep fondness you knew matched the smile he hid under his mask, and you quickly made your way towards him, trying not to stumble over the moist gravel. Your treasures clutched carefully against your chest and singing joyfully in your pockets.

When you finally reached him and he greeted you by putting his cheek against yours, you immediately realised that he, too, had filled his hands with various rocks and shells. « Couldn’t decide on one, » he mumbled under his mask as your eyes shone with excitement and laughter.

Once you found a place to peacefully sit down, you both spread your treasures all over your laps, and tried your best to compare each one to the other’s irises. You took countless photos, admired all the seashells, got lost in your thoughts while gazing into each other’s eyes, forgot the task at hand multiple times in order to share loving whispers among the sea breeze. It’s only when you started struggling to make out the details of your findings that your realised how late it was.

Once you got home, you immediately stole a bunch of glass jars from the kitchen and cleared a space on one of your shelves. While Nikto prepared two cups of warm drinks, you sorted the treasures into the jars - two labeled with your names, filled with the rocks, shells and sea glass that matched your and Nikto’s eyes, while the others overflowed with everything you found randomly and decided to keep.

After handing you your drink, Nikto settled quietly on the couch next to you, admiring your work. Still in a sea mood, you decided to watch a documentary about whales, and nuzzled happily against each other.

This is how you fell asleep, that night. Warm, content, and full of love.

🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚

[moonchildstyles]

I saw you were talking about curious gazes stuff.... is citrine a part of that group 🧍‍♀️

wordcount: 2.6k+

——————

Parker kept his eyes on his phone, rereading his new text notification over and over even when the bell above his head jingled as he walked through the door of the record shop. 

Annie asked if he was going to be at Vera's party tonight. She asked him if she could go with him.

His cheeks almost ached from the width of the smile on his face. Maybe tonight would be the night—maybe he'd finally get the courage to ask her on a real date instead of all these friendly group outings. 

Parker pulled his gaze up only when he heard the familiar voice of the shop attendant, catching the wide smile on the man's face. It was the same man every time Parker came in, his name starting with an H (it was Harry, or Henry, or something in that universe but he could never remember and felt too shy to ask for clarification at this point). He knew so much about all of the records and the artists behind them, it was always interesting when Parker wasn't in too much of a rush and could talk to the guy. 

"Good afternoon! How are you?" he asked, the glimmering fabric of his top shimmering from the light spilling in from the large windows. 

"I'm good, man. Thanks," Parker greeted, feeling infectiously happy at the moment, "How are you?" 

"I'm doing really well, thank you," Harry (maybe?) said, dimples in his cheeks, "Are y'looking for anything specific today?" 

Shrugging, Parker shook his head. "Not really, just wanted to look and see if I can find something new." 

Harry perked up at the sound of something new being in need, a dark curl falling over his forehead. "We got a bunch of second hand records in the other day. It's mostly older albums, but 'm sure there's something you'd like. Let me know if you want any help or have any questions." 

Typically, Parker wouldn't mind asking a few questions, especially about the more vintage artists and pressings around the shop, but his mind was still buried deep in his phone. "I will, man. Thanks." 

With that, Parker drifted between the shelves that marked out the aisles in the small shop. Huddled between a pair of shelves holding different records and elaborate displays with special edition pressings, he pulled his phone out once again. Annie's thread was still open, her two texts shining in a beautiful, shining, hopeful blue. 

ur going to v's tngiht right ? 

if u want we could go together :) 

He'd never seen a string of letters look so perfect. It was like he was reading poetry. 

His fingers held a tremor as he texted her back. He attempted to play it cool, but of course he wanted to go with her. He would have given anything to enter that party under the label of being together with Annie. 

Sure! I have to do some homework tonight, but I'll be heading over there at around eight. Does that work for you? 

Shooting off the message, Parker felt conflicted about staring and waiting for the messages to be read with another set of preemptive bubbles filling where her next message would be, or locking his phone and not being so desperate for a single text. 

When the receipts didn't immediately switch to show that it had been read with another time stamp, Parker forced himself to lock the screen and shove his phone back into his pocket. Around him, colorful records asked to steal his attention, to put him back on track and remind him why he came to the shop in the first place. 

It was his sister's birthday next week and he wanted to pick out a couple of records for her since their mom was gifting her a player as well. (And, there was an album or two Parker had been looking at that he really hoped the shop carried). Forcing his mind off of his phone, he took his time perusing through the shelfs for anything special he knew she liked before he would start looking through the crates for something vintage she could brag to her friends about. 

Across the space, the bell dinged again, another customer stopping by. 

Instead of the usual greeting Harry offered to all guests, Parker heard a giddy sigh of, "Sunshine!" ring from the head of the shop. 

Lifting his gaze from where he was examining a record cover laden with roses and glimmering gold font, he saw a woman with a beaming smile making her way towards the register area. A plastic takeaway bag hung from her elbow, her hair pulled back with her outfit consisting of a logo'd shirt and black pants. The logo was familiar, from a restaurant deeper in the plaza that had margaritas that were a little too strong but cheap enough it didn't matter. 

"Hi, Harry," she greeted, opening her arms as Harry met her halfway and reciprocated her hug. 

The plastic bag crinkled over his shoulder but neither of them paid the food any mind as they wrapped around each other. Quiet whispers were shared between them, Harry's curls creating a small curtain so Parker couldn't even see what kind of reaction these secrets pulled from the newcomer. 

Instead, Parker only got to hear the sound of her laugh as she drew away from the hug. He felt a bit bad as he kept watching, but even when they shared a small kiss, he couldn't pull his eyes away. 

Harry had mentioned more than once these small details about his wife, interjecting that she loved a certain album, or that she recommended something new to him that he was now letting others in on. Truthfully, with who Harry was—so eccentric, extroverted in an introverted way, and seemingly from a different time—Parker had imagined his wife to be completely different than to who was standing before him. 

This woman seemed... normal. 

Not that it was a bad thing, or that Harry wasn't, but she wasn't draped in lace and gauze with jewels and glitter following her every step. She looked like she belonged in this century. 

He turned his attention back to the record in his hand a split second before she would have caught his stare. Though there was a track list right before him, he didn't read a single word, feeling a bit flustered knowing he had just witnessed what was most likely a private moment between the two of them. 

Parker couldn't help the way his mind went back to Annie. 

Would she visit him during her lunch? Would they embrace like that, without a care? What kind of secrets would she share with him? 

He couldn't help the minute check he made to his phone screen. 

No new notifications. 

Folding his phone back into his pocket, Parker directed his focus back onto his shopping. Meandering back towards the crates, he started flicking through the alphabetized stacks. 

With only a quiet album playing on the shop's record player—something crackly and old he didn't recognize but didn't mind—, he could hear the murmurings of the couple now huddled behind the register counter together. Though he didn't mean to eavesdrop, he didn't particularly try hard not to either. 

Straining an ear, he heard their hushed conversation over the music and quiet rustling of the plastic bag. 

"I can come back later, or save this for dinner," the woman said, "I don't want you to get in trouble, honey." 

"'S fine, dove, really," Harry insisted, his smile audible, "I know him—he's really nice. He won't mind, I promise. If he needs my help, I'll help." 

"But, H—" she tried again, only to be abruptly cut off. 

Maybe it was the romance on his mind, but Parker wondered if the soft sound he heard was another quiet kiss they shared. Harry's tactic to get his wife to let go of the argument. 

"It'll be fine, I promise. I've missed you all day, I don't want you to leave already." 

A plume of laughter could be heard alongside the laying out of styrofoam containers. The scent of warm food drifted through the shop. Parker's stomach piqued at the smell, reminding him the last time he ate was during breakfast. 

Maybe Annie would want to stop and get some dinner before the party. Or go for a late night snack after. 

Harry's wife's laugh pulls him out of the possibilities he was beginning to churn before he'd even received a text back. 

"We spent all morning together before you came here," she countered, her tone a gentle tease. 

"So?" Harry argued, quietly serious under his own joking tone, "'S not enough, and I've told you that before." 

A beat passed, the rustling of the bag filling the moment. "Well, I only have forty-five minutes left of my lunch, so you better make the most of it." 

Another set of hushed conversation sounded, words too quiet for him to hear. Parker figured with the scolding Harry! that left the wife's lips, he didn't really want to hear what had made them go quiet anyway. 

A vibration from his back pocket had Parker practically scrambling to reach for his phone and get the screen to light up.

Annie had texted him back. 

sounds good (: 

if its isnt to late by the time we r leavig we should get food or something 

Parker's heart just about soared right out of his chest towards the record player, the beats wishing to play their own love song in Annie's name. 

They were going to get food or something tonight, just like he hoped. 

Was this love? 

I was thinking the same thing! I'll see if I can finish up any sooner than eight, but I'll let you know when I'm on my way:) 

 There was so much Parker needed to do. 

Now the priority wasn't the set of essays he was planning on editing before he got ready for Vera's. These plants were now shifted, urging him to skip cleaning his apartment and instead rushing home to do his work then agonize over getting ready for the remainder of the evening. The cowlick on the crown of his head that had his hair sticking in weird places after every shower was going to be his prime enemy today. 

Focusing on the records before him, Parker skimmed through before grabbing a Fleetwood Mac album his sister would either love or let become a statement piece about how much of an old soul she was. Turning back to the shelves he reached for a foiled album, the band's name one he recognized but only vaguely through his sister's Spotify. He wasn't familiar with the artwork, but hopefully this was a good one. 

These two would have to do for now. If he needed to find a third, he'd do it later. Annie was waiting for him (in six hours, but the urgency still mattered). 

Taking his tiny stack to the register, he saw the bubbly couple huddled together sharing a container of French fries with their own respective sandwiches. When the woman realized Parker was approaching, she startled in her spot, immediately moving to get their meal out of the way of the register. 

"Sorry, sorry," she said, covering her mouth as she swallowed down the bite she'd taken just as he emerged from the shelves. Harry watched with a fond quirk to his lips though he didn't make any move to assist her move. 

"'S alright, love," he attempted to soothe her. While Harry was always purely friendly and full of a kind and giving spirit, Parker had never heard his voice take on the notes it did now. This man was in love with his wife—everything she did was special to him. 

"I don't mind," Parker jumped in, settling his records on the clear area of the desk, "I get it." 

"See, (Y/N)?" Harry pointed out, though he did begin straightening up and tapping at the register keys, "I told you he was cool." 

The woman—(Y/N), the name said with a reverence—didn't pay Harry's argument any mind, continuing to move their boxes out of the way for Parker. Harry shook his head, his green eyes lighting up with every glance her way. 

"You find everything alright?" Harry asked, sliding the records towards the inlaid scanner on the desk. Before Parker had a chance to answer, he saw Harry's face light up when he spotted the Fleetwood Mac record. "I didn't know you listened to them! Is this your favorite album?" 

Holding up the beige cover, complete with a familiar woman in pointe shoes and an unfamiliar man at her side, Harry looked to him with expectant eyes. 

"Um, this is actually a gift for my sister," Parker explained, feeling a bit bashful now that he let down Harry. "It's her birthday next week, and my mom is getting her a record player. I don't really listen to older music." 

Casting his gaze down at the album cover, Harry pursed his lips. "I guess it did come out in '77—feels like it was only last year, I forget sometimes." 

Parker canted his head. That was one of those things about Harry that had him assuming he was meant to exist long before this time. It wasn't the first time he made a comment like that. 

"If she likes that album," (Y/N) piped up from where she had stepped back to lean against the back counter, "you should get her some Stevie Nicks albums. She'd love them." 

Harry perked up with a smile on his lips, though he stayed quiet as he typed a few numbers into the register before the total popped up on Parker's end. 

"She's the singer from Fleetwood Mac, right?" Parker asked, sliding his card into the reader, "I didn't know she had her own music." 

"She's the best," Harry interjected, his words a clear praise of his idol, "Even if your sister doesn't get into it, y'should still try it out. Y'won't regret it." 

Maybe Annie would like some of this kind of music. They could have a song if they found one they both liked.

The idea had Parker giddy once more, itching to head home and prepare for the night.

"I'll have to come back then and see what you recommend," Parker said, grabbing his carefully bagged records with the receipt tucked inside, "Thanks, Harry. It was nice to kind of meet you, by the way"—his eyes moving to Harry's wife—"He talks about you all the time." 

The smile that stretched along her features was like the sunshine her husband named her after—bright and eclipsing. 

Though they were small, the things Parker picked up between the two had his heart softening in places he didn't know could soften. A love like that must be consuming in the sweetest way.

Annie was all that was swirling through his mind. 

"He does?" (Y/N) asked, her eyes drifting towards her husband. He only shrugged in response, a bashful set to his features with blushing cheeks. 

"See you next time," Harry said, biting back his dimpled smile as he bid Parker goodbye. 

Tossing a wave over his shoulder, Parker drifted towards the door, his precious phone sliding into his hand on instinct. His heart jumped when he saw a text from Annie. 

perf ! excited to see u (: 

His heart rocketed into his throat at the small string of words. Just before he left the shop, Parker didn't think before he was looking over his shoulder and catching Harry pressing a loving kiss to his wife's lips. 

He wanted a love like that. Hopefully, that will start tonight. 

——————

:))))) thank u sm for all the excitement about this pov I hope everyone likes it! thank u sm for reading, sorry for any mistakes, and please send in any fun ideas!

[collectivecloseness]

Okay but can you do 25) that’s where all my clothes went but Steve saying it about his reader the girlfriend, and his and your best friend Robin??

Yes because I absolutely respect also loving brotp stobin with /reader for one or both of them haha, I love that dynamic! And absolutely a hc of my own too that Robin occasionally steals Steve’s clothes, as well as his partner doing so lmao

Prompt: 25) that’s where all my clothes went

Steve Harrington x reader, Robin Buckley & reader

You walked into family video at around midday, knowing Steve and Robin’s shift would be starting any minute.

When you entered the store only Robin was there, who lit up as soon as she saw it was only you, bouncing towards you before she encased you in a hug, one you eagerly returned as you took in the perfume you got her for her birthday.

“Thank God it’s you. The second I put my badge on and a customer walks in, I feel like my whole day is cursed.” Robin laughed into your shoulder, before pulling back with a smile, both of you still holding onto’s each other’s arms.

“Well thank God then. Can’t have your day being cursed. You’re riding in the same car as me when Steve takes us to the movie theatre later, I don’t wanna be collateral damage.” You joke, Robin lightly brushing your shoulder as she backed up a step closer to the tape rack. “And you don’t want me to be cursed?”

“Hmm, that too.” You agree, both of you laughing through your noses, before you sighed at the tapes that were definitely on the wrong shelves. A Nightmare On Elm Street was definitely not ‘kindergarten & under friendly!’

It only took you a second however, now you’d pulled away from Robin, to notice the dark blue shirt she was wearing, accompanied by some dangly bracelets and a black pair of ripped jeans. “Is that’s Steve’s shirt? Or is another one you both accidentally bought?” You asked good naturedly, remembering the time they both showed up to Nancy’s party in the same sports crop top.

Robin sighed, pinching the material and pulling it out from her stomach. “Yeah, I didn’t like any of my clean clothes today.”

You both nodded together, knowing the feeling.

It was a normal thing for both of you to steal from Steve’s wardrobe. You were both over at his all the time, sometimes hanging out there when Steve wasn’t even in.

One day Steve had left bed early to drive Dustin somewhere, but you were still lounging about in his sheets. You heard someone using the front door key, and Robin bounded into the bedroom, only giving you a slightly too ealry in the morning but still cheery “Oh hey!” as you tried to at least put a bra on under the sheets.

Robin had been swiping all of Steve’s jackets on a rack to the side one by one, and when you had last nights bra and Steve’s basketball shorts on, you joined her side, asking “anything in particular you’re looking for?”

“Yeah. His brown jacket, you know the fake leather one? I’ve just got a new bunch of shit and I need to see if it fits these tops that pretty much will only go with that.”

You found it in a small pile and handed it to Robin, used to her raiding Steve’s closet before, and she knew you did the exact same thing. Occasionally with Steve in the room, where you both promised to give it back. Although now, you knew you weren’t the only one to use Steve’s gifted house keys to your advantage.

Now though, in family video, you took in the top Robin was wearing, feeling the material by stroking the sleeves on her bicep, and nodding knowing the answer to your internal question.

“Oh yeah. I wore that one yesterday.” You kept nodding. It was a good shirt. Very fashionable, and unisex. Not that shirts had genders.

Robin blinked, although wasn’t really surprised, looking down at it “Oh really?” She lifted the collar, giving it a small sniff test. “Well at least you smell good. It was on his clean pile.”

“Yeah I put it there last night, I only wore it for a couple of hours when we went shopping.”

“Probably for more clothes. Poor Steve.” Robin pulled a dramatic face at you, woeing for him, and you both shared another laugh. Helping Robin in her duties as you took three copies of Friday The 13th, and four of The Exorcist and helped move it to the horror section.

“I mean, I’m wearing his top and his pants today. Not my fault I can convince him to get pants that comfortably fit both of us.” You gestured down to your outfit, Robin giving it a quick applause in appreciation.

“Yeah” Robin started “Have you noticed he wears this one to work a lot?” She nodded down to ‘her’ shirt, flattening it with a brush of her hand. You weren’t even surprised at how well Steve’s clothes fit you or Robin anymore sometimes. Almost like he wanted you both to steal them, you could argue.

“I think he thinks this one is more ‘professional’ or something.” Robin gave air quotes at the word, rolling her eyes and smiling at you before returning to the task at hand.

You pull it a little from her waist, Robin of course doesn’t care, as you rub the hem of it between your fingers. It really did seem like a good material. “Well do you think he was gonna wear it today?” You asked, only for Robin to give an uncaring shrug at you.

That’s when Steve ran through the door, a good twelve minutes late to his shift.

Luckily his face went from panic and trying to keep the door from flying off its hinges, to a relaxed puff of air flowing from his cheeks, as he realised it was only you and Robin in the store, no Keith.

“Well thank God for that.”

“God’s getting a lot of thanks today.” Robin noted, leaving the tapes for Steve to sort as she went to lean against the counter. There was a really good spot the sun shone through at midday, and Robin rolled her head and relaxed into it like a cat.

“Yeah, that’s probably why so many people are avoiding curses.” You noted as you walked up to Steve.

“Amen!” Robin called with a finger out to you, eyes still closed, as you came and bundled Steve’s sweater up in your hands, leaning over to give him a kiss on the cheek.

“What?” Steve said quietly, a lost look in his puppy dog eyes as he looked between his girlfriend and his best friend.

You and Robin both just chuckled, and you used his sweater to pull him in for another kiss. One Steve smiled against, even if he wasn’t quite in on your antics of the day. Giving just a quiet and happy moan, simply because he was happy to be giving you your first kiss of the day.

It was only when you leaned back, Steve still smiling hooded at you, slightly licking his lips, that you looked at the darker colour between your hands. And as you took a step back, still holding him like he owed you money, you were just a tad surprised. “Is that my sweater?”

Even Robin looked up now, peering her head aorund to catch a glimpse.

“Yeah babe. I’m sorry, I just couldn’t find anything work suitable left for today.” Steve relayed, his hand rubbing the back of your neck, still there from when he’d been kissing you. You could tell it was from a drawer you left at Steve’s house, for when you didn’t pack for an unplanned ‘sleepover’.

Steve still felt comfortable in it though at least. Even if he was late with the chaos of tearing his bedroom apart. “I swear my laundry machine eats my-“

Steve stopped as you gestured smiling apologetically down at your shirt... and at your pants. And when you looked over at Robin, Steve followed your trail. Watching her cheerily wave, before he realised what she was wearing too.

He fell back on his feet, an amused smile on his face. “Oh. That’s where all my clothes went.” He bemused, unable to even sound chiding.

And even though you kissed his cheek in ‘apology’, you knew he loved the easy going and close friendships and relationships he had with you and Robin. And the others, because Eddie definitely stole that sports crop top from Steve after that party, because you remember chucking it out a window at him. You knew Steve loved his little family, even if you punked him sometimes like this.

“Well I’m eventually gonna give it back.” You rolled your eyes dramatically, pulling on ‘his’ sweater sweetly, as Robin called out “I’m not!”

Steve only wrapped his arm around your neck, kissing the shell of your ear. “It’s fine. It looks better on you than it does me. Although Robin could use a little help.”

“Dingus!” Robin called out, letting her middle finger stretch far.

Steve only retuned his half heartedly, before shaking his head at both of you. Getting his attention drawn back as your fingers graced his toned chest. “Just don’t get any badge holes in it Stevie. They look awful in that sweater.”

[enkas-illusion]

About My Man - Part 3/5

Fandom / Pairing: Jujutsu Kaisen / Choso x f!reader, Suguru x f!reader

Rating: NSFW/Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Content Warning: Fluff, language, hurt/comfort, slight making out

Chapter Summary: As you begin to accept the weird turn of events as your new reality, you prepare yourself to face some less-than-comfortable encounters.

Author’s Note: Umm so, I got carried away and now this is a 5 part story instead of the 3-part I’d initially intended. I realised it didn’t have enough build up and drive for the characters to act the way they do. Hope you enjoy it.

~ Eren’s Birdie

Song Dedication: Stupid by Vincent Blue

Part 2 | Part 4

When you wake up the next morning, you feel relatively calm and… bored. You check your phone, expecting a text from Choso like he usually would, only to find nothing at all.

Usually he’d hit you with a ‘reached home safely ma’am!’ or ‘i know you miss me already, sleep tight’ or literally just a bunch of stickers and gifs when he was too tired to type.

So you take it upon yourself to text him.

You: hey Cho. Hope you reached home safe.

You stare at your text and all you can think is how clingy you sound. But you don’t get time to take that train of thought any further when you see the three dots indicating that he’s typing.

Cho <3: Yup.

Oh. 

You wait, staring at your screen for about 5 minutes. 

Maybe he just woke up? Maybe he’s still trying to figure out what to say? 

You’re only met with disappointment as he goes offline. You subconsciously trace your fingertips over your lips. Yeah, that was definitely not a dream. Choso had, in fact, almost kissed you. You feel a pang of disappointment in your heart.

You realise you no longer had any plans for the day, since you were relying on Choso to make one. You quickly drag yourself out of the puddle of self-pity and your bed. Might as well make the most of a Sunday by taking yourself out on a date.

Looking at yourself in the mirror, you fake a smile so wide that your cheeks hurt and realise that Suguru must’ve easily seen through it and figured out how annoyed you were. You give yourself some words of encouragement, “Get your shit together man. At this rate, you’re gonna end up as the single cat lady… and NOT the cute type.”

To make things easier, you put a ban on thinking about crushes and love-life for the day during an unnecessarily long shower. You grab a bag with all your essentials, text Luna about your whereabouts and make your way to the local cafe you frequented almost every other week.

“Hey! Look who showed up finally!” The cafe owner, Samantha smiles as she welcomes you.

“Hey Sam, been busy with work… you should know I’d never forget this cafe of all places!” you reply, smiling sheepishly.

“Ha ha, I believe you!” Sam has a heavily resonating voice that makes even her still empty cafe seem lively, “the regular?”

You nod, “Oh! Please make it take-away. I wanna sit in the park.”

“You got it!” she says as she vanishes in the back. You notice her rush around to decorate the glass shelves with freshly baked goods.

“Sam! Have you already prepared the Tiramisu, by any chance?” you ask her.

“Sorry love, that’s gonna take some time,” she yells back at you from the kitchen.

“Okay, no worries. I’ll come back for it some other time.”

Sam prepares your order in less than 10 minutes. You bid her goodbye as you merrily make your way to the park in anticipation of the first taste of your coffee and pain au chocolat, the best in town if someone were to personally ask you. You take the smallest sips, trying hard not to finish your coffee before you even reach the park.

Once you finally reach your destination and settle down on one of the wooden benches, you take a book out, plug your earphones in and take the first bite of the still warm pastry –  heaven. 

Your strategy to attain a peaceful solo date is a total flop – this realisation hits when you find it hard to concentrate even with classical music blasting in your earphones, reading the same sentence over and over till you finish eating the pastry.

Well, nevermind.

You close the book, placing it on the bench. As your mind wanders back to Choso, you change the playlist to pop to make it more ‘upbeat’. 

Anything but Choso and Suguru, please!

You take another sip as you close your eyes, basking in the sun, resting your head on the backrest. The warm morning sun feels good, though you know you only have another half hour before it goes from pleasant to hellishly hot.

After about 5 minutes of direct sunlight dancing on your skin, you feel shadowed. You squint your eyes open to see a very sweaty Suguru smiling down at you, blocking the sun’s rays.

“Stop standing there like an eclipse,” you take your earphones out to speak to him.

“Good morning, ex-girlfriend.”

You give him another one of your fake smiles.

“May I?” he points at the space next to you. You nod as you move further to one corner of the bench, picking up your book in one hand with the coffee cup in another hand. The aroma of even the almost empty cup is so strong that it reaches him the minute he sits down. 

“Cinnamon?” he asks in surprise. You nod. “But you used to hate cinnamon in coffee.”

“I like it now.”

“Hmm…” he pulls out the napkin tucked into the elastic of his sweat pants to wipe his face. His buff muscles glisten under the sunlight and you see his tattoos clearly for the first time. They still cut off at the bicep where his t-shirt begins and you wonder where the tattoos really end.

You snap out of it asap, feeling the need to make conversation to compensate for the staring, “I remember when you had your first tattoo.” 

“This one?” he lifts the left corner of his shirt up till you see the traditional japanese design of a dragon on his outer oblique muscle. You turn away to finish your coffee, not allowing yourself to stare for too long.

“Yup,” you chuckle, remembering the memory – you’d forgotten the design but not what had happened. Suguru desperately wanted the tattoo but had to hide it somewhere his mother wouldn’t notice and you were the one to suggest its placement.

“That’s the only one that stands out on its own. I wish I’d endured mom’s scolding for a better placement,” he laughs, “it’s so pretty, shame it stays so hidden.”

‘Yeah, just roam around shirtless. Apparently you’d love the extra attention on you!’ You refrain yourself from saying it out aloud.

You notice a few women passing by, stealing glances at the man sitting next to you. Suguru still has the same effect, turning heads way too frequently.

“It's still the same… everyone still stares at you as if you’re some Greek god,” you observe as you chuckle.

“Everyone but you,” he states.

You turn to look at him and he's resting an arm over the backrest and his head tilting on his arm, looking at only you.

“Suguru,” you warn him.

“Yes?” He smiles.

“Stop it. I don't know what you’re trying to do but stop it.”

“Why? You liked me before. You'll like me again!” He states smugly. You raise an eyebrow at him.

“Wait, that came out wrong. I mean, we both used to like each other, what's the harm in trying again?” He asks as he sits up straight. 

“There's no again. Are you done exploring your options?” You try your best not to let the annoyance slip into your voice.

“That– I was young and immature!” He defends.

“And I've moved on,” you take a deep breath, “Look, if it's friendship you want, then sure, we can try being friends… but I doubt there can ever be anything more.”

“Friends…” he contemplates, “okay, we started out as friends before anyway.”

You roll your eyes as you shove your things in your bag and get up in a haste.

He grabs your wrist, “Wait, wait! I'm kidding! Friends it is.”

“Okay, cool,” you nod before leaving him on the bench anyway. 

He takes steady steps behind you, “Where did you get that coffee? Smells delicious.”

“It's just around the corner. About 500 metres from the park's entrance,” you reply, still walking ahead of him. When you stop near the trash can to discard the empty cup, you hear him call your name again.

“Take me there?” He asks, grinning sheepishly at you. At that moment, you decide to cut him some slack. You could catch a break too, so you start walking in the cafe’s direction once again.

“Okay. Follow me.”

At the cafe, after Sam smirks at you when she sees you enter with such a ‘hottie’, you dismiss her hopes as you reaffirm that ‘he’s just a friend’ while ordering for him.

“I’ll tell you later. Long story,” you whisper to her as you take the cup and pastry to your table where Suguru had been waiting for you.

This time, you actually catch up with Suguru properly. You tell each other about your jobs, a summary of the past 5 years in about 15 minutes and finally end up on his talk with your mother, who really did try matchmaking when she gave him your landlord’s number.

“I KNEW IT! She denied it when I asked yesterday!” you complain.

“She always knew you had a crush on me,” he laughs.

“Well, guess I need to update her on my love life,” you joke back.

“So, what’s the deal with this Choso guy anyway?” He tests the waters.

“I don’t know yet. I just know that I like him a lot… so much so that I get lovesick when he’s not around,” you bite your tongue, trying hard not to talk too much since it felt weird to tell Suguru about this of all people. Still as he persists, you tell him about the night you lied about the fake relationship. He listens calmly.

“What about him? Does he feel the same way?” he asks when you’re done.

“Maybe?”

“You’re settling for a maybe? You fought me for a confession by grabbing my collar and threatening to punch me,” he scoffs.

You feel your cheeks get hot with embarrassment at the memory – one that is just as fresh in Suguru’s mind as it is in yours because it was the angriest he’d ever seen you.

“Clearly, I no longer use that approach,” you clear your throat. He simply shrugs.

“Well, we almost kissed yesterday,” you feel the need to defend yourself.

“Wuss… I actually did kiss you,” he retorts calmly.

“And you chickened out too… so,” you scoff, getting slightly annoyed, “right, maybe I should just give up on everyone since I keep falling for the same type each time.”

“Hey…” he reaches his hand out to place it on top of yours, “I didn’t mean to– I’m sorry.” He squeezes your hand and you feel a bit calmer.

“Suguru. I’d like to be your friend but just… please, let me ease into it slowly,” you sigh, defeated.

“Okay,” he smiles, holding your gaze. 

You look down as you slowly pull your hand away in a way that doesn’t seem too harsh. He drinks the rest of his coffee in silence. The walk back home is quiet as well. 

“Right, then I guess I’ll see you around,” you finally speak as you reach in front of your apartment door.

“Yes you will,” he says as he takes a few steps more till he’s leaning against his apartment door.

“Bye,” you smile as you open your door. 

Suguru’s in no rush, still leaning lazily, waving at you till you’re out of his sight. It’s only when he hears your door lock click that he unlocks his door to go inside. Something he’d never admit out loud was that maybe a little part of him was hoping you’d call him over to talk some more.

~~~

You give Luna a brief summary, catching her up on your lore and for the first time, she admits how ‘fucked’ you are.

“Have you heard from Choso?” she asks.

You check your phone, “Nope.”

“Talk to him after work tomorrow,” Luna suggests. You nod. You were planning to if he doesn’t keep on ignoring you.

You decide to ignore the aches of your heart because you really needed to clear your head. So naturally, you binge about 10 episodes of Love Island for the rest of the day.

By midnight, you feel your eyelids get heavy but your brain still doesn’t feel sleepy. Instead, you find your consciousness drifting to a distant memory that still seemed as vivid as if it were just yesterday.

~ Flashback: 5 Years Ago ~

“Well, I called my mom and she said she’s not exactly ‘sure’ when they’d return,” you sigh.

“Hmm,” Suguru doesn’t look up from his books.

“I don’t know why your mom asks me to babysit a grownass man,” you joke as you sit on the corner of the table next to his textbooks.

“You were the one wanting to hang out with me,” Suguru mumbles, still concentrating on his reading.

“Suguru please, you’re boring me to death,” you complain.

“Unlike you, I really do need to study. I can’t just study everything the night before exams and get perfect grades.”

“SOMEBODY’S jealous,” you giggle. He brings the palm of his hand over your mouth to shut you up. You bite his skin lightly and he retracts his hand immediately. He finally looks up at you and you pout at him. 

“Fine! What would you like to do?” he asks, closing the book shut.

“I don’t know,” you giggle.

“God, you’re annoying,” he says as he stands up in front of you.

“It’s an antidote for your boring ass,” you mock him back.

“My ass is anything but boring,” he scoffs.

“Yeah, I have noticed… just like every other girl in school,” you laugh.

“SOMEBODY’S jealous,” he mocks you.

“Me? As if! When hell freezes over,” you roll your eyes at him. He moves closer to you. 

“You realise you make it so obvious,” he snickers as he leans closer, caging you by placing one hand on either side of you.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you lie, a smile still plastered on your face as you stare into his eyes. You see his intention change in his eyes.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he warns you softly.

“Like what?” you ask, feigning innocence.

“Like you’re in love with me,” he’s blunt.

Your breath hitches before you manage to speak, “And what if I am?”

He stares at you, figuring out whether you were still teasing him or actually managed to confess your feelings that he was already so painfully aware about.

He gives you a quick peck to gauge your reaction – you’re stunned… and bushing, but you don’t pull back. So he leans back in as he captures your lips in a kiss once again. You open your mouth slightly, not knowing what to do.

As he slowly slides his tongue in your mouth, you let him take the lead. You let him guide you as you go from someone who’d never been kissed to someone who learnt from the best. The rush of your first kiss takes over, making you feel more confident as your lips chase his plump ones, mirroring his ministrations.

Suguru’s hands move down your sides till he’s cupping your ass before tugging at your thighs. You hook your legs around his hips and your hands around his shoulders when his hands grip your waist to lift you off the table with ease. He walks you to his bed and your lips only part for a split second when your back hits the soft mattress.

Your arms are still wrapped around his neck before he pulls back, his chest heaves when he takes shallow breaths. You bring one hand to cup his face as you look at him so lovingly that it makes his knees feel weak.

“Fuck,” he mumbles as he pulls his t-shirt off in one swift motion. Your eyes wander down to his toned torso and to the plastic film that’s covering his still healing tattoo. He intertwines his fingers with yours, kissing your knuckles before pinning your hands above your head. Burying his face into your neck, his teeth tug at your sensitive skin, causing you to let out an involuntary moan.

He brings one hand under your t-shirt, pulling your bra down to play with one of your hardened nipples. This new sensation makes your brain go hazy as you moan his name out loud. 

He finds himself losing his composure as he grinds his hips against your crotch. You feel something hard rub against your clothed cunt each time he repeats the movement. You wish he'd tear off your clothes in that very instant. As if he can read your thoughts, Suguru pushes your t-shirt up over your chest.

Your eyes meet as he grins at you, yanking your bra down to expose your tits before his puffy wet lips close around one of your nipples and he sucks hard on the bud. You grip his hair roughly, “Suguru!”

“Ah– fuck,” he groans as he moves up to look into your eyes once again before kissing you hastily. Your sighs and restricted moans get lost on his tongue. He parts again, allowing you both to catch your breaths. You’re not sure for how long you’d been kissing but with every second that passes, you feel this insatiable hunger for more.

His lips sucking purple-blue claims over the flesh of your boobs makes your brain short circuit at the amount of pleasure taking over your senses. Your skin burns hot when his hand snakes down to unbutton your pants. You feel his hand shake as he dips it inside your pants, his eyes almost rolling to the back of his head when he realises how wet you are.

“Shit– you’re so hot,” he swipes two fingers over your clothed cunt, pressing firmly against the wet fabric. You furrow your eyebrows as your head luls back and your back arches.

“Hey– hey,” he grabs your chin to make you look at him once again. He devours your lips once again, making your skin tingle as he bites your bottom lip.

“Suguru… I love–”

You pause and your eyes widen when you hear the main door open before you have a chance to finish your sentence. It’s clear that Suguru hears it too as he gets off of you instantly. He finds his t-shirt to put it on again and you rush into the bathroom to adjust your clothes when you hear footsteps outside his room door.

You hear his mom call your name outside and Suguru saying something but it's far from coherent — their voices drowned out by the rapid beating of your heart. You look in the mirror to fix your appearance before slowly opening the bathroom door. 

“There you are, dear! You mum’s waiting downstairs,” his mom smiles at you and you notice Suguru already had his book opened, pretending to study as he sat on the chair.

“Oh yeah, alright. See you later,” you feel hot under her gaze.

“Bye, see ya,” Suguru looks at you and you rush downstairs.

“Everything alright? You look a bit sick,” you mom worries as you walk past her to the main door.

“Yeah, just tired,” you lie as you lead her out the door, carrying the shopping bags she had with her.

You don’t hear back from Suguru as he actively avoids you everywhere, so much so that he switches gym time to evade you. You text him but get no reply nonetheless. You feel disheartened and decide to give him some space… for about two weeks. The feeling eats you from inside – if you were going to be rejected, it’d better be a clear rejection without a speck of doubt.

So you end up at his house, ringing the doorbell when you know he’d usually be home from class. You press the bell once again when you get no response. As you start to wonder if this was a futile attempt, the door clicks open and Suguru peeps out, headphones hanging around his neck. 

He looks surprised, not expecting you to show up at such a random time. But then he opens the door for you, the colour returning to his face as he prepares himself for the confrontation. 

“Mum’s not home,” he speaks as he closes the door behind you.

“I know. She went out with my mom,” you make your way to the living room couch where his video game console is laid out. 

“Would you like to play?” he asks as he settles next to you, picking up the console.

You stare at him in disbelief. One, you were already angry at him for ghosting you after your FIRST kiss, of all things. Two, seeing him playing a video game without a care in the world, while you had been miserable for the past two weeks, makes your blood boil.

“So, I guess we’re just going to avoid whatever’s going on between us?” you ask.

“Nothing’s going on between us,” he mumbles, eyes not sparing you a glance.

This was the first time you’d seen Suguru act this way. You’d never seen this side of him, and it makes you feel even more queasy.

“Suguru,” you warn him, “talk to me.”

“What’s there to talk abou–”

Before he gets a chance to finish his sentence, you’re almost pouncing on him, throwing his console to the ground before grabbing him by the collar of his shirt.

“WHAT’S THERE TO TALK ABOUT?” you yell, absolutely livid. Your grip on his shirt tightens as your knee slightly slips off the couch. Suguru holds you in place, his fingers digging into the flesh of your waist.

He sighs as he calls out your name, scared of your wrath for the first time as the anger burns in your eyes, “Please calm down.”

Your fingers are still tightly gripping his shirt, knuckles turning white, but your head slumps down as tears threaten to escape your eyes. It’s a premonition – wherever this is going, you already know it’s not going to end well.

“Can I explain?” he speaks softly as his hands come up to your wrists. You loosen your grip as you nod and he holds your wrists down softly, not letting them go as he continues, “I feel like I’ve fucked up our friendship. I knew you had a crush on me… it was a mistake, I– I never should’ve kissed you.”

“How can you be so cruel, Suguru? You knew yet you still… you’re the meanest,” your voice cracks.

“This is exactly what I wanted to avoid. I knew you'd be like this… I just don’t want to break your heart. You know I’m not meant for serious shit,” he shakes his head, his thumbs rubbing over your skin in a not-so-consoling manner, “As much as I love y–”

“Bullshit,” you sniff.

He lets out a heavy sigh, “I know you. I don’t want to break your heart.”

“Then you shouldn't have kissed me!” you hit his chest with two weak punches.

“Because I’m still attracted to you! I just can’t be who you want me to be. I'm holding myself back because I don't want to treat you as if you're just another hook-up,” his fingers wrap around your wrists firmly this time, as if he’s preparing for you to hit him again.

You laugh in disbelief, “Is your brain really in your fucking dick? You know what? I’m so glad your mom interrupted us that day.”

“I’m sorry, okay? I just don’t want to make promises I won’t be able to keep… especially not with you,” his hands soften when your grip loosens as he tries to interlace his fingers with yours.

You feel your hands shake and take a deep breath. His lips brush against your fingertips lightly before he places a kiss on the back of your hand as he rests his forehead against yours. 

He lets go of your hands to pull you closer into a hug instead – his arms wrapping around you in such a comforting way that it almost tricks you into believing everything is alright. But there it is again; he says your name as if it's an apology, whispering it so delicately in a desperate attempt to disarm your fury. 

Despite the tears in your eyes betraying you, your face looks indifferent as you push him away slowly. You look him in the eyes as you dictate, “Don’t you ever dare talk to me again.”

 ~ End of Flashback ~

You wake up to the blaring sound of the alarm ringing incessantly as you try to fish your phone out from where it was lost somewhere in the blanket. By the time you manage to find it to snooze it for 10 more minutes, you’ve already wide awake.

As you make your way to the living room, Luna has laid out breakfast for two, already dressed up to leave for work.

“Good morn– wow,” she raises her eyebrows as she looks at your tired face.

“What?” you ask as you rub your eyes.

“Did you not sleep last night?”

“I did… not very well though,” you yawn as you sit on one of the chairs.

“Eat. You’ll feel better,” she hands you a plate of her famous omelette and toast.

You like being babied by Luna like this – something she had been doing for the past 4 days. You smile at her, the gratitude visible in your teary eyes.

“Has he talked to you yet?” she asks you. You shake your head, stuffing your mouth with the delicious food.

“He’s been acting weird all week… I asked Satoru but he doesn’t have a clue either… Was Choso really that affected by the Suguru thing?” Luna wonders.

“Damned if I knew,” you mumble. It was Thursday and Choso had successfully avoided you the whole week – speaking only when necessary and diligently skipping the smoke and coffee breaks at work.

“Just talk to him. I kinda feel bad that I was the one who started the lie,” Luna sighs.

“No… I’m just giving him space. He can talk to me whenever he wants,” you shrug, making the weakest excuse. In reality, you were worried about rejection for real this time. You were way too familiar with the telltale signs of an incoming heartbreak.

“I’m not home tonight so call him over,” Luna insists.

“Where are you going?” you ask.

“Satoru invited me over for movie night,” she giggles and you raise your eyebrows.

“Are you guys–”

“Nothing serious. We’re both hot and horny so we figured, why not?”

“Since when?” you enquire further, surprise visible on your face.

“I didn’t wanna bother you as it wasn’t anything important. You’ve not been exactly– you know… with this whole Choso Suguru ordeal,” she confesses.

“I’m sorry… I feel selfish for not even checking up on you sooner,” you apologise. 

“It’s fine. We can gossip later. Just sort it out tonight,” she smiles at you. 

You get up off your chair, swallowing the last bite hurriedly, and move closer to give her a kiss on the cheek, “Yes mother.”

“Now go get ready… you woke up really late,” Luna checks her phone for the time.

“Actually, I asked them to let me work from home for today,” you admit, guilt lacing your voice.

“Oh my god! You’re trying to avoid him too!” she gasps. You groan as you collapse on the sofa. 

She grabs her things to leave, shooting a warning glance your way, “Tonight. Do it tonight!”

After you hear the door close when Luna leaves, you lie still for another 5 minutes, staring at the ceiling. You check your phone for the time – you had 15 minutes to log in for the day. 

You lock your screen as you sit up, only to hastily open it again to send a text that was way overdue before making your way to the bathroom.

You: stop avoiding me. Come to my house after work.

The minute you’re done with your shower, you run straight to your phone, with your towel still wrapped around you as tiny drops of water drip on the floor where you stand. You open his chat to see what he had replied.

Cho <3: Ok.

Jeez. So dry.

You sigh as you throw your phone to the side and get ready for work. The quicker you finished your tasks for the day, the more time you’d have to prepare what you wanted to say to Choso.

The rest of your day is pretty ordinary. Focusing solely on work pays off when you finish everything by 5pm, with another hour left to log out. It’s only when your stomach growls loudly that you realise how hungry you’d been since you skipped lunch.

And that’s how the last hour goes by, cooking pasta from scratch and feasting on it all till you’d licked the whole dish clean. When the anxiety starts stirring up, you clean and dust the whole house to keep yourself occupied.

You check your phone again. There’s no text from Choso but it’s 30 minutes past office time so you figure he might be on his way. You take a quick hot shower to relax yourself and your doorbell rings right as you finish dressing up.

Stumbling on your feet as you quickly pull up your sweatpants, you run to the door. You take a deep breath before swinging the door open.

“Hi,” you smile at Choso, a sense of relief washing over because you’d half expected him to make some excuse and avoid coming over tonight.

“Hi,” he smiles back awkwardly. You’re about to invite him in when you see Suguru walk to his door with four huge grocery bags in both hands.

He has his phone pressed in between his ear and his shoulder. “Right… hmm, okay. That’ll work too i guess…” he continues speaking to someone on the other end. You wonder if he ignores you two to not make it awkward but your doubt is cleared up as soon as he mouths a ‘hi’ with a bright smile, still trying to wave at you with occupied hands.

Suguru looks so funny you almost let out a laugh but manage to hold yourself back, simply waving back at him. Suguru doesn’t bother looking at Choso, actively avoiding him as he quickly unlocks the door to his apartment, leaving the two of you alone again.

You refocus your attention on Choso once again, whose face isn’t as relaxed as it was moments ago.

“Come in,” you move to the side to make way for him but he doesn’t enter. 

Instead he holds up the key in his hand, waving it in front of you, “Wanna go out for a ride instead? The weather’s nice.”

Your face lights up at the idea. You excuse yourself to quickly grab your phone, house keys and shoes as you follow behind him, making your way to his bike in the parking lot.

“I see you got your bike back from Satoru,” you make conversation as he puts on his helmet.

“Yeah… took forever to get his car repaired,” he chuckles. He turns to you to put the spare helmet on your head.

“How did you know I'd agree?” you ask him as he fastens the helmet securely on your head.

“I didn’t,” he looks at your face briefly before getting on the bike, “I was contemplating it myself.”

“So technically I can still say no and go back upstairs?” you question, your soul itching for answers.

“Yea, but I know you won’t,” he smiles as he waits for you, “Cause I know you.”

You feel annoyed. He’s not wrong. You agreed for the ride without even thinking about it.

You climb up as you sit at the edge, maintaining a gap between your bodies, “Then do you know how I’m feeling right now?”

“Annoyed,” he answers.

“Correct.”

He grabs your wrists, guiding them around his waist, pulling you closer to eliminate the space between, “Hold tight. Let’s get you some ice cream first.”

Your cheeks grow warm as you hug him tight from behind. 

How can you be mad at him when he knows a hundred different ways to make you melt?

You ride in silence, the evening air dancing on your skin and you close your eyes as he speeds away on the open highway, taking the long route to your destination. 

It’s so simple and mundane, yet not being locked up in your room makes you feel a lot calmer than you were a few hours ago. 

Although you try hard to deny it to keep yourself from feeling so emotionally dependent – in reality, your mood changed the moment Choso had pulled you closer, his scent infiltrating your senses completely.

You open your eyes when you sense him park the bike. He gently takes off your helmet when you get off and you smoothen out your hair while he takes his off.

It’s only when you both sit in a corner of the cafe with your ice creams when he finally speaks up, “I was surprised to not see you at the office today.”

“I felt tired so I decided to work from home,” you answer.

“I know,” he says and you wait for him to continue, “Lu told me.”

You nod as you enjoy your ice cream in silence. He does the same. 

“So…” you begin.

“I got jealous,” he cuts you off as he admits before you even think up a question.

“Oh,” you don’t know what else to say. Admittedly, you wanted to bring up the kiss first. But by the looks of it, he was skipping over it, so you decided that you would too.

“Are you sure you're over him?” Choso suddenly asks.

“What?” you ask confused.

“Suguru.”

“Yes! Why wouldn't I be?” you frown.

“Well it’s only been like what… 3-4 weeks since the breakup? And now he’s your neighbour too,” he lays out his logic… which wouldn’t make sense if only he knew the truth.

Right. About time you confess and set things straight!

But you couldn’t help but feel pathetic in this situation. The lie has been blown so out of proportion that each time you wish to speak, it feels as if you’d puke instead.

“I dont want to fuck things up between us,” he explains further and the words have a familiar ring to them from once upon a time ago.

In that moment, you realise not once has he explicitly mentioned that he likes you more than friends are supposed to and that scares you. This feeling’s familiar – actions can sometimes trick you more than words. 

Confessions are different; they’re set in stone. ‘I like you’ can only be interpreted in one way, whereas a kiss, or in this case an almost kiss, can have multiple implications. So you bite your tongue once again.

“I don’t want to be just a rebound. I don’t want you to regret us,” he sighs.

“Trust me, you have no reason to be jealous, Cho— ah, shit!,” you fan your mouth as if it can help the brain freeze. Without even realising it, you’d taken a huge bite out of the ice cream while being lost in your thoughts.  

Choso laughs as he sees you shake your head.

“Am I getting old so soon?” you chuckle when it passes, “My tongue’s heavy already! I could easily eat 10 of these.” 

“Would you like to try mine?” he offers as he holds his spoon closer to your mouth. You nod immediately and he feeds you. You put your thumb up in approval.

“Wanna try this?” you ask and it’s your turn to move your cone closer to his mouth. 

He brings his hand over yours, warm fingers wrapping around your cold ones as he guides the cone closer to his face. He leans forward to lick the melting ice cream and you wonder if he’s the one doing it so seductively or if it’s your head that’s always in the gutter.

“Better than mine,” he comments and you simply nod with a smile. Silence falls over again but it’s not as uncomfortable as before. When you’re done, you ride back home, taking the longer route once again.

When you reach the parking lot, you talk about work and other insignificant things. He’s taken off his helmet along with yours, as he leans against the parked bike. You wonder if it’s a sign that he wants you to invite him up.

“Cho,” you almost mumble.

“Yes?” he asks, folding his hands to his chest and you can see the outline of his biceps through the thin cotton shirt. You tear your eyes away from his body to stare into his eyes instead.

“Just don’t ghost me again,” you warn him, “I hate it. Whatever it is, just talk to me.”

“How can I ghost you? My day’s incomplete without seeing your cute face,” he smiles.

“Right, as if I believe you now!” you roll your eyes, making him laugh.

“I’m sorry,” he extends his hands out to hold yours, pulling you a step closer towards him.

You look down at your hands as you bite your lip in contemplation, trying to form a proper sentence to invite him upstairs. He calls out your name to grab your attention. You look up at him again.

“Let's take it slow?” Choso asks.

Oh.

“Okay,” you nod.

“Okay,” he smiles as he squeezes your hands.

“How about now?” you joke.

He laughs as he shakes his head, “Stop being so cute.”

You blush at his words but still sigh as your tone gets more sincere, “but okay, I understand.”

“Oh! By the way, I'm going home for the weekend. Just saying, I’m not ghosting you again. Might even miss you… just a little bit,” he grins.

“I won’t miss you at all!” you tease back, “Good night Cho.”

Choso laughs again as he stands up straight to encase you into a hug. His arms snake around your waist as he buries his head in the crook of your neck. Your hands rest on his chest as you feel him inhale your scent softly.

“Cho, it tickles,” you giggle but don’t push him away. Instead you slide your hands up his shoulders.

“You make it so fucking hard for me to control myself,” he mumbles so quietly that you almost miss it. 

“You know… Lu’s not home tonight,” you whisper as you hesitantly wrap your arms around his neck.

He takes a moment to speak up as you lazily caress the back of his head.

“Slow,” he scolds.

“You totally considered it for a second!” you gasp.

“Shhh,” his face is still buried against your neck as his arms wrap around your waist even tighter. You feel goosebumps all over your skin when he pecks the corner of your jaw softly, “Good night.”

Before you realise it, he releases you from his hold, quickly hopping on his bike, ready to leave. He turns to look at you once again and you wave at him as he exits the parking lot.

When he’s out of sight, you turn around to walk up to your apartment. As you walk back in a haze, you decide that you would come clean about the lie and confess your feelings when he returns on Monday. 

For better or for worse – you had made up your mind to rip the concrete band-aid off once and for all.

~to be continued~

[owlespresso]

bedtime stories II. Blade. tags: spice below the cut, body worship, heavy petting, snuggling & cuddling (while naked) this series is supposed to just be bedtime stories but i couldnt contain myself

The shades have been drawn. The room is bathed in calm, blue light. The kind that slips in just before the sunset.

The air conditioner hums quietly, shoved into your bedroom’s window. The white noise is soothing. It settles your nerves, but can’t manage to dull your excitement. Your hands flex against the sheets, luxurious fabric bunched between your fingers as you wait for the door to creak open. 

Blade is home today. When not sent far and wide across the expanse of the stars, you’ve both been given permission to reside here—in the countryside of Sene Azure, where the grass is bluish and the skies blow pink and cyan during the day, a vaporwave enthusiast’s dream. You love it here. The air is fresh and the fauna is abundant. Thick rivers spear the landmass apart. Two of them straddle your well-furnished home. At night, when the birds howl and the thunder roars deep, you can hear the waters churn. 

What you love even more is when Blade is home. He’s out now. Been out for the past few hours. When he’s got nothing to do, he’ll roam the forests and cut firewood. You’ve started teaching him the basics of gardening. It’s endearing, seeing one of the galaxy’s most dangerous, most wanted criminals crouched on the ground, elbow-deep in the soil. The plants like him. You theorize it’s because of his Abundance, the sickly sweet frequency which keeps him alive, but you never say it aloud. 

You say everything else aloud, though. When he comes into your shared bedroom, smelling of the wild flowers and taiga forests which cluster around your valley of rolling hills. You shoot off the mattress, launching yourself towards him with a voracity you can scarcely contain. He catches you with a grunt.

“Welcome back,” you coo, cupping his cheeks in your palms. He looks down at you, impassive, before closing his eyes.

“I wasn’t gone for long,” he murmurs, voice feather soft. 

“I know. I just like you a lot,” you hum, getting on your tip-toes to comb your greedy fingers through his hair—careful to avoid any knots. “I miss you whenever you’re gone.” you coo, you gently scratch the skin where his jaw and ear meet and he sighs, the sound rattling out of him like a spare coin tossed around in the washing machine. 

“Hm,” he ducks into your hold. None of his age is belied by the softness of his cheeks, the smoothness of the skin at the corners of his eyes and lips. How did he look before? It’s hard to imagine him as anything but distinguished in his elder years. A sexy old man, you think, but keep it to yourself. You drag your thumbs over the space beneath his eyes.

“Want to go to bed with me?” you ask, combing a strand of hair behind his ear. Blade doesn’t need to sleep, one of the mortal tendencies he has since left behind, but he does when you ask him to. Though, come to think of it, you’re not sure whether he actually sleeps. In every instance when you’ve woken, nestled into his side, he has been awake. Usually looking at you, candlewick eyes aglow in the dim dark of the room. Sometimes, you catch him reading something he’s plucked off the shelves.

He opens his eyes, and you coo. The noise is involuntary. It’s become second nature to dote on him, to treat him like a bird nestled in your palm. It disgusts him, sometimes, how soft you are, how sweetly you treat him. Mass murderer. Destroyer of entire planets. Blessed child of the Xianzhou’s enemy. How important he is. How precious and rare.

“Yes,” he says, and you drop your hands. Impatiently, you reach for the buttons of his shirt. He lets you dress him up, sometimes. You’ve spent long afternoons eagerly browsing online shops, putting your Hunter’s salary to good use. He wears most of what you buy him—today it’s a simple button-up and slacks. While you love what he usually wears to work, it’s annoying to remove, with all its buttons and laces. 

And it’s healthier for him to have more than one outfit. The change helps disrupt the usual pattern of his life, where the pendulum once only swung between a stage of rest and stage of unimaginable violence.

He stays still as stone as you disrobe him. He lets you slide the thin, breathable fabric over his shoulders and off of his torso, yielding planes of scarred skin and firm muscle to your prying eyes. You stroke your fingers up his arms, idly admiring. You don’t miss how goosebumps spread across his skin, how his nipples pebble. His chest is so nice, too. So deceptively soft. Pillowy. 

A soft, shuddering breath leaves him, but he otherwise remains stock still. Unearthly steady as your fingers spread over his shoulders, idly massaging the firm muscle. 

“Do you like it? When I touch you like this?” you inquire, lips quirking into a coy little grin.

“Why ask a question you already know the answer to?” Blade murmurs. His hands settle atop old bruises he’s left on your hips, thumbs rubbing little circles against your skin. “You just want me to flatter you.”

You don’t dignify him with an answer. Only a coy little smile, eyes crinkling at the edges.

“I want to lay down together,” you say, and sidle away. You walk towards the mattress and feel like you’re floating. This time of day never feels real to you. It’s cool and dusky and his eyes track you through the muted blue of the room.

“Mhm,”

“With our clothes off.” 

“...You play with fire,” he says, after a long moment. His eyes are half-lidded. He appraises you with an idle expression, but you can see the naked hunger in his gaze. You can feel his restraint, physically, through the tightening grip he has on your hips. 

“I just like the skin-to-skin,” you hum. You bunch your sleepshirt (his shirt, repurposed) in your hands and bring it over your head, exposing everything from the waist-up to that cold fire gaze. 

Only to hide it once you trot over to the bed and slip beneath the sheets, which have become cool and buttery in your absence. You nearly moan allowed, swaddled on all sides by some of the softest, sleekest fabrics in the known galaxy. You toss and turn just to enjoy the feeling, shoving your face into one of your pillows. 

There’s a massive thump on the other side of the mattress, springs groaning underneath the forceful, additional weight. You peer out of your makeshift cocoon, only your eyes over the edge of the blanket. Blake prowls across the admittedly ridiculous expanse of your bed. It’s funny. You didn’t know someone could possess such panther-like grace whilst crawling. 

“Welcome home,” you mumble, lifting the edge of the blanket to allow him under. 

He crowds into you without a moment’s delay. Like a tiger slipping into a jungle steam, a single minded grace possessing him. He manhandles you, a little. Nudges you onto your back with his shoulder. The show of force, effortless and natural, sends a wave of heat straight to your squirming core. Even without trying, he knocks you breathless. His nose rubs against the column of your throat until his teeth find purchase there, tangling your legs together.

For a long while, you remain just like that. He’s a weighted blanket. His skin is silk against your own, pressed tight to your own. He touches every inch of skin he can reach, luxuriates in the closeness. Idly, he sucks a fresh mark onto your skin. Absent-mindedly. Like a teething puppy. His tongue rasps over the spot, and then his lips as he continues to explore you.

Your wrist feels ticklish. You glance down, and see the tips of his fingers roaming the delicate skin there.

“Before we met, I thought these simple pleasures were beyond me,” Blade muses.

“You have a right to them. As much as any other creature does,” you murmur. You gather your hands together and press them to his chest, urging him off of you and onto his back. He settles into the space you’d once occupied. He tracks the movement with low-lidded eyes. 

You settle atop of him. Your breasts press into his upper abdomen, your skin tight to his. It’s soothing, somehow, to be cradled in the arms of this killer. This so-called monstrosity. His calloused palms rub the small of your back, tension winding out of your body like blood flows in water. The air is cool against the untouched parts of your body, somehow sweet to breathe in. The thump of his heart is slow, but steady. Unyielding to the tides of time, to the blade of any enemy. 

You make a soft little sound at him. Soothing, cajoling, approving as his cock hardens against your thigh. Long and thick. A solid line of heat which you dream about, even after having it inside of your mouth, between your thighs. You summon the willpower to ignore it, for now. 

The vast planes of his torso instead call to you. Despite the arousal which churns low between the both of you, the moment is peaceful. Serene. You want to be delicate with him. Perhaps that’s why he always comes back, to experience tenderness much like he’d received in his other life—care which until now he has been bereft of. 

Your hands glide over his stomach. The muscle there twitches with each tender brush of your fingers. His breathing gets a little labored, a little shaky. Then your touch slides to his sides, stroking up and down his flanks. You settle the space between your fingers and thumbs into the dips of his hips.

“Does it feel good?” you ask. He sighs. This time, he sounds like a put-out dog. A family pet you’d once had, a massive hound which would sometimes flop onto its side, humphing like it had anything on earth to qualm about. 

Blade has much to qualm about, though, that’s why you think his exaggerated languishing to be so endearing. He buries his face into your hair, big hands roaming to your hips to squeeze—and then to your ass, prompting you to half-splutter, half-laugh into his skin.

“Mhm,” he hums after a moment, allowing you to continue your ministrations. You’re petting him, really. Greedy hands roaming up to cup his chest, feeling the weight of each pec in your palms. And then you reach for his neck, stroking up and down the broad column of his throat. His eyes are just barely open. Slits. Black lashes fanning against his cheeks. 

[imtrashraccoon]

This might be my favorite chapter to date, mostly because they're warming up to each other even more. Also, I like including little personal anecdotes from my own life. Maybe you can spot them?

@owl-bones

First Day, Previous Day, & Next Day.

Bad Sansuary: Horror - Compliments

Word Count: 1,862

Curse your stupid kitchen cupboards!

You let out a quiet huff and crossed your arms in frustration while giving the top shelf an evil glare. You just wanted to get your beautiful bone china teacups down so you could have a tea party with Axe today.

You only had two of them and they were a gift from your grandmother who used to collect them, but she gave these ones to you when she had to downsize her collection. One cup had a couple of painted large red Roses while the other had a few bunches of painted blue African violets. Both cups had matching saucers and while you didn't ever use the dishware for fear of breaking them, Axe was a good friend of yours so it was worth doing.

Unfortunately, because you didn't ever plan to use them, you'd put them on the very top shelf, where you were unable to reach. Still, you were an adult, you'd put them up there so you could get them down again too!

You'd just managed to climb up onto the counter when Axe must've noticed what you were trying to do. He quickly moved to stand next to you and put his hand out in case you were to fall, all the while his skull was scrunched up into a concerned frown.

"what are ya doin', lil' chip?" he asked in a tone that was rife with worry.

You were half sitting, half crouching on the countertop and glanced up sheepishly at him. "Uh, trying to get the nice cups down?"

Axe made a tisk sound and shook his skull. It felt like he was almost scolding you, as if you were a child who didn't know better. He easily reached up and with a featherlight grip, gingerly took the two china cups out of the cupboard and set them on the counter next to you.

"ya should've asked... i was right here," he said. "what if you fell and hurt yourself?"

Your cheeks were definitely bright pink from embarrassment right now. You stared down at the floor and chewed your lower lip. "I know... I wasn't really thinking as I don't have to reach the top shelves very often," you muttered. "But thanks for your help anyways..."

He gave your shoulder a gentle pat and extended his other hand to help you get down, which you accepted. He had an amused grin plastered across his skull and you knew this was going to be just another thing added to the list of weird things you did on the regular.

"it's alright now, but maybe you should consider getting a step stool or something safer than climbing up the kitchen counters." His voice had a teasing inflection that made you almost want to lightly smack him, but you didn't.

With a sigh, you smoothed out your clothes and glanced at him out of the corner of your eye. "Must be nice being so tall, you don't have to struggle so much like I do," you said.

He didn't look so sure but didn't protest, instead his red eyelight got a bit of a mischievous glint. He crouched down to be on your own eye level for once, which was kind of funny when he lost over a foot of his height just to do so.

"it has some advantages... like how much smaller ya look compared to down here..." He chuckled and added, "it's downright adorable."

Oh no...he didn't...

You clenched your fists and refused to look at him, which was rather difficult considering how close he was currently standing to you. Sure, you were a little annoyed but he wasn't being cruel at least. Although, if he was going to tease you about your height, you hoped he could take it as much as he could dish it out.

"Oh yeah? You're lucky to be so tall... Has anyone ever asked you how the weather is up there, big guy?" you asked in a slightly snarky voice.

He nodded, his amused grin never faltering as he stood back up to his full height. "all the time, lil' chip..." he chuckled. "has anyone ever remarked that you'd be the last one to know if it ever rains?"

Confused, you blinked a few times before the meaning of his joke managed to set in. "Oh, that's a new one actually. Clever...but I'm still annoyed that you called me short."

Axe crossed his arms and briefly looked you up and down. "you are quite adorable though... pretty sure i'm like twice your size too. i kinda like it actually..." he murmured.

You'd barely considered the sheer size difference between you two lately. Not only did he have a whole foot and three inches on you, being at least six foot five, his entire body frame was indeed at least twice that of your own. Neither of you had ever acknowledged this fact out loud until now, despite how apparent it was.

"ya know what's funny?"

"What?"

"i could easily carry ya, even if you tried your hardest to get away... there's literally nothin' you could do to stop me."

You felt a chill run down your spine at his words. For a moment, you believed it too. He really could just randomly decide to kidnap you and there would be no way to prevent it. Despite what you'd once told him, not even you were crazy enough to fight a guy who could likely wrestle bears and handily win. Not to say you wouldn't try mind you, desperation had a way of motivating even the smartest person to do the unthinkable afterall.

Axe seemed to sense your concern and the corners of his smile fell slightly. "i was kiddin'! sheesh...i wouldn't actually do that to ya..."

You chuckled nervously, "I know you wouldn't but I also know you could. It's a good joke, just very dark..."

"i probably shouldn't have said anythin'... sorry," Axe muttered. He couldn't look at you now and ran his claws over the right side of his skull.

You couldn't help but flinch when he seemed to barely register hooking his phalanges into his right eye socket and you put your hand on his arm to try and gently stop him. When he glanced at you questioningly, you gave him a small smile and patted his arm in a reassuring way.

"It's okay now, Axe. I'm not actually upset," you said softly. "Why don't we forget about it and have some tea?"

He nodded in agreement seemingly all too willing to move on to a more pleasant topic.

Despite owning two china tea cups, you weren't fancy enough to own an actual tea pot. So instead of brewing a bunch of tea at once, you had to settle for pouring the boiling water into the individual cups with a tea bag in each one. Not that it really mattered, you could just add more sugar if the tea got too strong.

You both decided that rather than sit at the table, you could just sit in the living room where it was more comfortable to have your tea party. So, you did just that and put some fresh fruit and cookies out on the coffee table as well.

It was rather nice actually and you couldn't remember the last time you'd done this sort of thing with anyone. You couldn't help but smile at how small the tea cup was in comparison to Axe's large hand. He seemed to especially like the cup with blue African violets so you let him use it, even though it was your favorite of the two.

After a little while when you'd both finished the tea and snacks, you noticed Axe had been staring at you, as if he wanted to say something but wasn't sure how. Although, he quickly glanced away and looked down at the tiny cup he still had clasped in his claws when he realized he'd been caught.

"Is something wrong?" you asked.

He shook his skull and murmured, "no...i was just thinkin'..."

You tilted your head with curiousity. "Penny for your thoughts then?"

That beautiful cobalt blue glow flickered across his cheekbones and he gave a bit of a nervous chuckle before responding. "could i...try holding you...?"

You hadn't expected that question at all. Still, you trusted Axe by now so you didn't mind the idea. "Why not?" you answered with a shrug.

He seemed surprised you'd actually agreed to an admittedly odd request. He stared at you for a solid five seconds but when you didn't change your mind, he couldn't stop the wide grin from taking over his face.

Then, to your surprise, rather than just giving you a hug, he quite literally pulled you into his lap before engulfing you in what was best described as a bear hug. You'd let out a quiet yelp from the sudden movement but let him keep holding you tightly.

The longer you sat there with him, the less embarrassed you felt and the more you realized that you actually liked this situation. While his bones were normally cool to the touch, being close like this made you realize that he was actually pretty warm. Not only that, he felt...alive, as in you could literally feel the magic flowing through his mana lines that kept him alive. It made a sort of quiet humming sound that kind of reminded you of a heartbeat, although less pronounced.

Another interesting thing was that being in this position was more comfortable than you'd expected. Sure, he still had sharp edges and you could feel his ribs basically pressing into your back, but it was oddly comforting. You couldn't sleep like this unless you were dead tired, but that wouldn't be hard to fix if you had a thick enough blanket.

Did this mean anything? Friends didn't do this sort of thing to each other...right? Were monsters naturally more affectionate than humans were? You weren't complaining either way, this felt really, really nice. Or maybe you were just much more touch starved than you thought.

Although just when you thought things couldn't get any better, you were proven wrong. Axe pressed his skull against the back of your head and gently nuzzled into your locks of hair. You inadvertently shuddered from the pleasant sensation and your eyelids briefly fluttered shut.

"Axe?"

A low rumbling hum was the only answer to your query until he shifted and rested his chin on the top of your head.

"you're really warm...and soft...and so small..." he murmured.

You just knew your face was flushed from how intimate this moment was and his comments seemed only to make it worse. Your tongue felt heavy and your mouth felt almost as if it were sewed shut. There was nothing you could say to either defuse or add to the mood of your current predicament it seemed.

"you're the perfect size to fit in my arms," he added. "and ya smell nice...like mint and cucumber..."

You were going to be incapacitated for a while...both physically and emotionally. Oh well... If this counted as kidnapping, you wouldn't mind doing it more often.

[nanaminokanojo]

Nonsense ft. SatoSugu

Just a bunch of random and absolutely unrelated drabbles/scenarios that I think are so Gojo and Geto coded X Reader. Fluff, fluff, fluff!

CW/TW: mentions of alcohol | profanity/strong language | vandalism | slight angst | weird stuff lol | fluffy af | i'm sorry if i had more for gojo lol Word Count: 2.3k

MASTERLIST

GOJO

宇宙 (Universe)

You and Satoru, you were just like this.

“You’ll lose this time for sure.”

“You wish.”

“My eyes are kinda dry today.”

“Excuses.”

“Do you smell that?” He sniffed.

“The cookies are going to burn. I should probably take them out of the oven.”

“If you look away, you lose.” His mouth slightly curved upwards on the sides in a smirk.

“No fair!”

“Go take them out. The smoke detectors will go off if you don’t.”

“Okay.” You blinked.

“You lose!” he gloated.

“You little fucker.”

Staring contests. It’s a common thing where Satoru, the colossal brat, and you are concerned. You two would stare into each other’s eyes for long periods of time, your games sometimes lasting for as long as hours with neither willing to relent and admit defeat. You waste time like this on the regular like you had nothing better to do, swearing that one day you’d both go blind. You complain to each other when your eyes start hurting after then your banters would continue with your eyes screwed shut.

You don’t do it with anybody but him. It’s just something you two do. It’s like this thing that you cannot bring yourself to do unless it’s with him. Just him. It’s fucking weird and stupid, really, from the outside looking in anyway. You were both silly. Kinda stupid, too. Anybody who had the unfortunate fate to witness you two interact would think so.

You don’t know about stupid, but you liked these staring games with Satoru.

In those clear, glorious blue eyes, you see your whole world.

~*~

Good Morning

You trudge out of bed once your alarm goes off and start with your daily morning routine, usually ending it by grabbing breakfast.

It wasn’t a particularly good morning for you, feeling like you’ve woken up on the wrong side of the bed, so when you saw your cereal box on the topmost shelf, you couldn’t help but grumble out loud, cursing your petite physique when you realized you had to go through the trouble of pulling a chair from the dining area to the pantry to get it.

However, before you could move from where you were standing, staring up at the seemingly unreachable cereal box, you felt something, or rather someone, warm press against your back, and over your shoulder, a hand reached for the very object you were trying to get.

You turned around but immediately regretted it when you found Satoru standing just meager inches away from you, snow-white hair in an attractive disarray and his blue eyes bleary. He set down the cereal box by the sink, blinking at you adorably. You were trapped between his arms, frozen in place when he moved even closer.

“I told you to call me when you needed something from the top shelves,” his voice thick with sleep.

“Y-yes, but I was just -”

“Uh-uh, no buts.”

“Why is my cereal even on the top shelf?”

“I put it there ‘cause you left it lying around on the counter.”

You shrugged, realizing that he was just cleaning up after you. You turned away from him, taking note of how he still hadn’t taken his hands off the sink top. “Thank you, Satoru, but why are you insisting on this anyway?” you asked.

Instead of an answer, you felt a pair or arms snaking around your waist. Satoru then rested his chin on your shoulder.

“Satoru -”

His arms tightened around you possessively. “So I can be close to you every morning.”

~*~

My Dork

You lined up to order coffee at the counter. You were second in the queue, while third in line were a couple of freshmen girls, giggling and whispering amongst themselves as they glanced at one particular direction.

Following their line of vision, you saw that they were looking at the guy sitting at the corner table by the glass walls. He was softly smiling down at his phone, his silvery white locks falling over his eyes.

“Oh my god, look at those dimples!” one of the girls said, while the other said, “He’s so dreamy.”

You suppressed laughter when they caught you staring, too. They looked at you as if they were expecting your input so you said, “Yeah, Gojo Satoru’s gorgeous, isn’t he?”

They both nodded with bright goo-goo eyes, repeating his name. All that was missing was for them to drool.

“He’s a dork though,” you said with a fond smile, facing forward as it was your turn, but you didn’t miss the questioning looks on their faces. You finally placed your order and made your way to where Satoru was sitting.

“Looks like you made some friends,” he commented as you were sitting down.

You looked behind you and saw the shocked look on their faces. “I was just telling them what a dork you are.”

He pouted at you then. “You’re mean.”

“Well, baby, I’m just telling them the truth.”

“Do you really think I’m a dork?”

“Yeah.” You placed your hands on either of his cheeks, grinning as you gently squeezed. “My adorable dork.”

~*~

For Suguru

For some reason you cannot comprehend, Gojo Satoru always seems to make your blood boil. You thought it was natural since you were the polar opposite of each other. He’s popular among people, you weren’t. He’s a social butterfly, you abhorred humanity, well, slightly. He’s all smiles and happiness, radiating sunshine while you were quick-tempered and melancholic, surrounded with black miasma that made flowers wither on your path. You couldn’t be more different.

You only had one thing in common and that is your seemingly undying affection for Geto Suguru. The boy was all you cared about outside your family, but then Satoru came into the picture, all smiles and literally glowing. Your world turned upside down from that moment, but since it made Suguru happy, Satoru became a part of it all.

As time progressed, you both learned to tolerate one another especially after you argued in front of your common best friend that one time, realizing for the first time that you and Satoru opposed one another. Suguru decided to be Switzerland.

In truth, you didn’t really have reason to hate Satoru and honestly thought he did not really hate you either. For a while, you thought it was because you had competition where Suguru’s affection and attention were involved, but then you realized it was only because you were jealous of everything that the boy was, embodying everything that wasn’t you.

“That’s the third one!” you screamed at Satoru after popping the third balloon in a row. You were preparing for a surprise to celebrate Suguru’s birthday but he was just proving to be a hindrance despite being the one who initiated the idea.

He pouted, his lower lip jutting out. “Sorry…”

Ugh! He was adorable, too, you lamented in your mind.

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head and continued to stick the banner to the wall when you heard another pop, startling you. You paused, taking in a deep breath, about to say that three-word sentence you kept saying to him.

You quickly turned around. “You’re so anno -”

You were not able to say anything further as a pair of lips covered yours, your eyes becoming wide when you realized that Satoru was kissing you, his azure eyes drooping close as you blinked in disbelief.

The kiss only lasted for a few seconds but it was enough to make a train wreck out of your brain and an even bigger mess of your heart, stuttering in your chest in a weird staccato. “You…”

Satoru leaned his forehead against yours, his hands snaking around your waist as he pulled you closer. Just then, he opened his eyes to meet yours.

“I’m annoying, I know.” He sighed. “You don’t fail to remind me.”

You tried to step back but he wouldn’t let you. “L-let go, Satoru,” you stuttered.

He had a stubborn look about him as he shook his head in response. “Nope.”

“You’re so -”

Kiss.

“I didn’t even say it yet!” you protested, holding onto him as your knees turned to jelly.

A grin spread across his mouth. “Every time you say that, from now on, I’d have to shut you up.”

=======

GETO

Constant

Quiet laughter erupts in the silence of the empty street, your figures taking cover in the darkness that was only made less severe by a distant lamp post.

“You’re pure evil, Y/N,” Suguru whispered in between snickers, watching as you sloppily dipped a brush into a can of red paint, making the excess splatter on the floor and drip down the bumper of the rather pristine white sports car before you.

“I’ve never crossed anyone who didn’t deserve it,” you replied with a smirk as you painted two words on the hood: DICK FACE.

Your best friend was on the lookout as you carried out your revenge on your cheating boyfriend, by tomorrow, officially your ex. He didn’t know that you knew, and he sure as hell wouldn’t know what hit him.

“Hurry,” Suguru told you frantically.

You then poured the rest of paint on every other available surface of the car you could reach, relishing the prospect of the owner’s reaction the moment he finds out about the fate of his beloved ride.

You then turned to face Suguru, grinning as you bowed elaborately like a conductor after an orchestra concert.

“Let’s go,” you told him, taking him by the hand after discarding the now empty paint can on the well-kept rose bushes.

You both made a mad dash out of the property, but you let go of his hand in the middle of it, running ahead of him until your lungs hurt. You’ve kept your aplomb well until that time, and as opposed to how everyone thought you were made of stone, your eyes filled with tears, actually feeling hurt about the whole situation.

You stopped at a corner when you realized you’ve gone far enough and heard hurried footsteps behind you which slowed down as they got closer. You looked at Suguru who was panting, his raven locks which were on a half-up  falling over his face. Upon meeting his worried gaze, your eyes flooded with tears again. This time, you had no control over them.

“Come here.” He beckoned you over, meeting you halfway with that warm smile of his albeit a bit cynical. It was comforting being the only constant in your life.

You crashed against him, your face buried against his chest. “It fucking hurts,” you mumbled in between sobs.

He patted your head while his other arm held you close. You both stood there, cars and people passing you by but they all melted away in the warmth of the only person you trusted. In that moment you were glad you were with Suguru, feeling safe and sound although he couldn’t protect you from the pain of your shattered heart.

A low rumble emanated from his chest then as he chuckled without humor. “People come and go, I guess,” his arms tightened around you as if to emphasize his next words, “but you’ll always have me.”

~*~

Drunken Excuses

You made your way to the second room from the stairs, slowly and quietly pushing the door, or at least as quietly as you can in your drunken state. You didn’t turn on the lights, you were not confident you can find the switch anyway, so you just took your clothes off until you were just in a tank top and boxer shorts and finally fell into bed.

You could have sworn you heard someone groan beside you, but you couldn’t care less. You clung to that feeling of sleep starting to devour you, afraid that if you opened your eyes, your world would start spinning again so you screwed your eyes shut, and soon, you were dead to the world.

The next time you opened your eyes, it was almost daybreak. You were still dizzy, but not as you have been just hours ago. You, however, felt the bed you were laying on face-down shift, and you could have sworn you felt a pair of arms wrap themselves around your shoulder and the small of your back, gently easing you to your back.

In the seconds that followed, the cogs in your brain moved and you realized you made a bed out of someone, and when you finally came to full consciousness, you were confronted by the face of your older brother’s best friend merely centimeters from yours, slowly opening his eyes, faint dimples showing as he flashed you a lopsided smile. The action enhanced his features even in the semi-darkness, hot-wiring your already addled brain.

You wanted to bolt right out of bed, but his steady amber gaze held you there. “What are you doing here, Suguru?”

“I slept over,” he answered, grinning cheekily at you as he smoothed a hand over your back, his cold fingers brushing over the skin of your lower back since your shirt rode up. “What are you doing here?”

“This is my room.”

“No, sweetheart, this is the guest room.” His voice sounded so velvety, making you shiver visibly.

“Well shit…” You chuckled as you closed your eyes, willing the nausea away. “Give me a sec.”

You felt Suguru move closer to you, your foreheads touching as he wrapped his arms tighter around you. “I don’t mind.”

“Funnily enough, I don’t either.”

At that, he started nuzzling you on the cheek until your lips were mere millimeters away.

Then you thought of your brother. “But Satoru would.” You sat up, easing his arms off you gently, but then, the look of disappointment on his face made you stop.

He, too, sat up, his face inching closer towards you as if daring you to move farther from him, but you didn’t.

“I’m still drunk, right?”

Suguru snickered, nodding. “Pretty much.”

You leaned closer. “Good. At least I have an excuse.”

With that, he closed the distance between you, claiming your lips with his.

Okay...I have to get out of my SatoSugu funk for real.

© ORIGINAL WORK BY nanaminokanojo. CHARACTERS ARE INSPIRED BY GEGE AKUTAMI’S JUJUTSU KAISEN. [20231019]

PHOTO/IMAGE/GIF/FANART CREDITS TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.

[rindough]

also wow i just realized i have like no dreamcore songs except i guess fireflies by spaceouters? dunno who i'd associate that with tbh. i have a BUNCH of indie tho if you're interested

HI ANON and its okay >< not everyone gotta have those songs but i took a listen to fireflies n hmmmmm this song rlly gives me dan heng vibes

like look at his room, the floor tiles, the shelves, the desktop, his bed. dan heng to me comes across as the guy who doesn't sleep early. half the time, if you're up and walking around the cabin, trying to make tea or coffee or just get water, best believe half the time you'll be met with a "why are you still up?" or a "hey"

he'll sometimes invite you to his room where OK LETS IMAGINE his floors can be customized to whatever he wants. so sometimes when you enter his room, it'll be in the shades of blue, dark blue in fact, calm navy waves swirling below you as you take in the cool air that hits your face.

he'll have you wait by the side as he adjusts his pillows and all, then calling you over to sit beside him with your hot drink in hand. you'll talk about those trips that he didn't get to join in, the weird shower thoughts you have, his random thoughts, and sometimes, he'll even share his secrets because he puts his faith in you, much more that he had anticipated.

your talks would go on for hours and hours and it'll just end up being a sleepover. like it'll all start with a

"come, let's lay down and talk, my back's tired."

then suddenly you'll be faced with a soft smile on his face accompanied by half lidded eyes, and a "good morning."

and, you'll be standing in front of March 7 who has a big smile on her face and also a "good morning." already giggling at the sight of the two of you huddled together at the morning's coldness.

another scenario is that when he'll have nightmares of blade haunting him, reminding him of dan feng's sins. if he's ever woken up by those nightmares the night before, the night after he'll have his floors be set to those waves again, or something calming, a relaxing ambient type of setting like rain or the ocean again KSJDHF but! he'll play this song to set his mood before wrapping himself comfortably in his blankets, trying to fall asleep. he'll slowly release the tension around his feet, then legs, letting go of himself in each limb and all the way until he's fallen asleep.

These nights would be somewhat peaceful, ykno sometimes or some ppl, when they've been a night owl for quite some time, and they finally, FINALLY get that 10pm sleep and wake up at 7am??

YEA that's what happens to him during those nights, he'll wake up, feeling even more refreshed and energized, feeling as if he's taken a step forward, ready to start the day again.

btw anonnie, do u wanna set an emoji alias for urself? :OO

[ampersandra]

i just did this for fun but i do want to put it on my blog so here's a bunch of comparison photos of the kyu-furukawa gardens (mainly the museum/historical house) and the location for the mission movie production in idolish7 third beat! and also it's the design for rokkenjima in umineko and it was in episode 1 of jetman

in real life, there's more garden between the house and the lawn, which you can kinda see in the satellite photo, but the actual exterior of the house is pretty much spot on! most of the photos are full of people checking out the park so its almost funny to imagine yamato sitting out here alone by this huge lawn having a breakdown.

to the right of the sun room on the lawn side is the main entrance! i found an okay photo where you can see the windows that match on the side where yuki talks with the director, and i did find a good one one to compare to the establishing shot, so you can see where it connects to the sun room.

to the left of the lawn is the rose garden! the steps were very easy to find similar pictures for, but i had a hard time finding wide shots of the garden from a similar angle as the show. the closest i got was one from the opposite side, since the layout is pretty much mirrored down the middle!

overall, the exterior is almost an exact match which is very cool to see :) i was gonna say that i didn't think they referenced it as heavily for the interior, but i just found a picture with a floor plan for the first floor and i can identify exactly which rooms they referenced now lol. anyway. the wikipedia page for the gardens mentions the first floor has western style rooms while the second floor is japanese style with tatami mats, so all the rooms in the anime are on the first floor. i mostly found pics of the interior that didn't match any room in the anime, so ill just compare what i can see in the floor plan & its small picture for each room.

okay so i'm rewriting this now that i know which room it is, aka the study! while getting screenshots, i realized all three of these scenes were in the same room, and the floor plan confirmed that for me. the picture for the study shows its fireplace with the large mirror over it, as well as the built-in shelves along the wall opposite the windows, something i think is unique to that room. the chandelier and pattern on the wall also match.

another one i'm rewriting now that i know exactly which room it matches! before i had any pictures, all i could figure out was where it was located on the outside (and i was correct!) based on the bay window placement. this is the only scene in this room and they never cross the 180 line so we don't get to see the other side, which is the only side i have actual pics of, but there's still some stuff i can check. the chandelier is a match and the doors/windows/fireplace match up with the floor plan! the floor plan photo is too bright to see how well the wall matches, but i did eventually find exactly one photo from inside the room. there is wallpaper over white square wood panels but its not exactly the same as the anime. i'm guessing they changed it bc a darker, blue color matches the scene & yamato's issues better.

OKAY THAT'S A WRAP. this was all for me, so if you aren't me and you just read this: thank you i hope you enjoyed :)

[bananastarion]

The Baldur's Gate 3 companions if they were forced to work boring modern day retail jobs, for some reason

Karlach would be out there doing her best, always there to reach the shelves that are too high for everyone else and doing all the heavy lifting. She gets in trouble a lot for accidentally dropping f-bombs within earshot of customers. She's the one you call over if a customer is giving you a hard time- she has no issue with telling them off and checking in to make sure you're okay. She gets a kick out of setting off all those tacky singing and dancing stuffed animals they put out on holidays, making your ears bleed. She's a bull in a china shop, and more than occasionally you'll hear a loud crash because Karlach accidentally knocked over a display again. She's also the reason the fire alarms keep going off. But despite all of that, she's by far the most fun to work with.

Nobody in their right mind would hire Lae'zel for a customer service position- but she makes a damn effective security guard. Maybe a little too effective- most of the time she is intimidating enough that all she has to do is shoot them a threatening look, and they behave. Sometimes she goes a bit overboard, though- like that time she made a guy bow down before her and beg for mercy, all because he stole a snickers bar. He swears he has no idea how it even got in his pocket!

Astarion is the coworker from hell. He doesn't actually do any work. When he's not taking unauthorized breaks, he's sneaking around to avoid helping customers. If a customer is unlucky enough to catch him, he'll just give them a snide remark or send them to Gale. Since he was hired, there has been a very suspicious inventory shrinkage. He distracts the cashiers from doing their work and they have formed a mean girl clique that gossips about everyone else. He'll also occasionally slip a product in a customer's pocket and report to Lae'zel he saw them shoplifting, then sit back and enjoy the show. The only reason he hasn't been fired is because he flirts with your middle aged divorced boss, who is putty in his hands.

Wyll's dad is a well to-do politician, but he insisted Wyll get a blue collar job so he can better understand the merit of hard work and see how the common man lives. And Wyll does an exceptional job- he offers the best customer service and has the charisma to sell anyone anything. Of course, he is honorable enough that he'd never sell a customer an inferior or overpriced product. He knows the returning customers by name and they ask for him specifically. He's also a hit with the kids. Yet it's Astarion who keeps getting employee of the month- what is that about?? If anyone ever tries to rob the place, Wyll will likely be the one saving the day- if Lae'zel doesn't disembowel them first.

Gale is that coworkers who doesn't understand boundaries. He'll be venting to you about his ex gf and asking for advice about whether it's too soon to text her again while you're just trying to mop the floor. You'll be taking care of a huge line at the cash register and he decides that's the time to show you all the cat pictures on his phone. To be fair- his cat is really cute. He complains a lot about how he graduated from an elite school and did exceptionally well academically, yet he's stuck working this shitty job- damn this economy! He's eager to help customers, but has a habit of monologuing about all the trivia he happens to know about whatever they're buying. One time, you walked in on him gnawing on a pair of men's boots in the break room, and neither of you ever spoke of it again.

Shadowheart would be the most "normal" employee of the bunch- her customer service is adequate- courteous and professional, but with minimal small talk. "Yes, that'll be in aisle 3. Have a nice day." She often gets out of any stocking jobs she doesn't feel like doing by complaining that her hand hurts- it seems to only conveniently go off when you ask her to lift a few boxes. You try to make small talk with her in the break room, and it gets awkward because you just interrupted her before lunch prayers. And her during lunch prayers. And her after lunch prayers. Maybe take the hint already, and stop trying to get to know her.

Bonus: Withers is the store greeter. In the fall, sometimes people mistake him for a Halloween decoration...

[alpineshift]

I've done a Spirited Away Lite version of jacknico before but I so badly want to do a Howl's Moving Castle version of jacknico too

HMC is one of my absolute favourite stories ever! Both the movie and the book! Going with the movie plot for this...

I know he's not eldest daughter but he is a long-suffering Captain with a bunch of baby devs so Nico is our beloved Sophie, and perhaps not a hat maker but a baker; hardworking and dutiful and makes great treats and fresh fluffy loaves and puts his whole life into the family bakery he's taken over. Am I still thinking about those bakery Nico pictures? Yes. Yes I am.

And Jack, who on the surface gets cast as this handsome beautiful playboy heart-eating Center of the Devils, is now the handsome beautiful playboy heart-eating wizard who wanders the countryside in his moving castle, AKA Howl. I think there's so much potential here. Are they both merely known as pretty guys by the general public and reduced to that? Maybe. Are they both a lot smarter than they appear? I definitely think so. Would Jack be the type to melt into green goo after throwing a temper tantrum (on or off ice)? I think the potential would be hilarious.

Of course the starting point is Nico turning into an old man. Nico, who goes to to visit Luca in Bern, where his brother is playing hockey, and along the way gets caught up in some kind of street festival and gets relentlessly flirted with by some overbearing guys. Just as Nico's getting frustrated and overwhelmed, in swoops this unbearably handsome man, who's glowing like a star in the night sky, all silky smooth hair and brilliant blue eyes and dashing smiles. He introduces himself as Jack, sends the annoying guys scampering off, and offers to accompany Nico the rest of the way to the rink. And, of course, possibly one of my favourite sequences--when the threatening blob henchmen emerge, Jack just takes them to the skies, hand in hand with Nico, flying them over the joyous bustle of the festival below. (One of my favourite screencaps of the scene ever.)

And when Nico finally meets up with Luca, his older brother is frantic, fussing over a confused Nico. When Luca says that some of the guys say Nico landing on the roof of the rink arm in arm with a wizard, Nico just clams up and doesn't say anything else about it. Because what is he supposed to say? It was one of the most exhilarating moments in his life, and there was a wonderfully magical, if not oddly familiar, the way Jack's hands had felt in his? That this was the most exciting thing that's happened to his very monotonous days at the bakery, and he's embarrassed about it?

No way.

So Nico sits in and watches Luca practice, ignoring the concerned looks his brother shoots his way, eats dinner with everyone after, then heads home. The streets are quiet, the lights dim against the starless sky above, and his staff have done a good job closing up the store for him while he's away.

Except.

There's someone inside the store.

Or--something. Something enormous, hulking, bug-eyed and terrifyingly orange and fuzzy. And eating through all of the vogelnestli by the handfuls (Nico just baked those today for shop open tomorrow, what the hell). And when it steps into the light, in front of a stunned Nico, it rushes forwards and bodies Nico right into the shelves, sending him stumbling to the ground in a mess of orange fur and a haunting whisper of Jack's only interested in handsome young men, and you'll never get to tell anyone about the curse before vanishing into the night.

(Yes. The Witch of the Waste here is Gritty - specifically Gritty twerking on Nico in the penalty booth. Stay with me here.)

And Nico is stunned, lying on the ground in confusion, at least until he tries to push himself upright. And groans in a scratchy, rusty voice, feeling incredible aches and pains all over his stooped, creaking body.

He feels like an old man.

And then he looks down, sees the weathered skin, liver and sun-spotted hand, and realizes he has turned into an old man.

Nico has a lot of nicknames, and he may act far more mature than his age may suggest, but he never thought he'd actually become Old Man Nico so early on in his life.

...It's not half bad.

Not half bad, in the sense that it's surprisingly easy to embrace his old man nature, to put on his little button ups and newsboy cap and sneak out the back door without any of his staff noticing, determined to set off on his own journey to break the curse.

Shan't get into all the details of the hike into the Waste, but Nico eventually stumbles upon a sentient scarecrow, who, somehow, leads him right to the mythical Moving Castle roaming across the hills as a place to stay for the night. Nico's not really sure if that's meant to be helpful at all--but.

The Wizard Jack will only eat the hearts of handsome, beautiful young men. And Nico is none of those things, which means he's safe.

It's dark and dimly lit inside the castle. The whole thing sways and groans and creaks, but it's easy to tune out once Nico closes the door. It smells vaguely dusty and depilated too, with notes of strong herbs and something rather funky, like a dishrag that's been left wet for too long. The only half-decent spot is on a rickety old chair in front of the fireplace, which Nico is more than happy to sit down upon because his old bones are creaking worse than the ugly castle.

He's ready to settle down for a long nap when--the fire talks. It talks to him, this little blob of orange-red flame with big, wobbly blue eyes, and introduces himself as a fire demon and announces he knows Nico is under a curse, and if Nico would break the pact that's got him stuck with Jack, he would help break the curse Nico has on him.

("Your name is--what? Quinnifier? Calcifer?" "No! It's Quinn. Fsssh. Kids these days.")

Nico's not up for a pact with a demon though--not at his old age. He's just a grumpy old grandpa, and what he really, really wants is a nice little snooze, right about now, regardless of what Quinn is rambling on about the struggles of keeping a castle moving, the waters hot, and the multi-level building heated. Just a quick cat nap won't hurt.

Except the cat nap turns into a full-fledged snore fest, and Nico is jerking awake to sunshine through the windows and the hassled expression of an enormous young man with curly hair--Luke, the Wizard's apprentice, he says, and immediately grills Nico on who he is between busy attempts to answer the door in disguise and accepting summons from the King on behalf of the Wizard himself. This all goes on through what Nico thinks might be a magical door that changes locations based on a little colour-coded dial on the knob, which, whoa.

Luke's suspicious of him, but he softens up a tad when Nico offers to cook them breakfast and straight up bullies Quinn into letting them cook bacon and eggs over him ("I'm gonna burn all your bacon, you imbeciles.")

But just before breakfast could be served, the colour dial on the door turns again--black, this time--and opens up to reveal the Wizard himself; Jack, still unbearably handsome, still glowing like a star in the night sky, hair still perfectly silky smooth despite melting in from the sticky darkness beyond the threshold. His bright blue eyes take Nico in, from the unruly strands of his stone-grey hair to the deep lines and wrinkles etched on his spotted face, and for a moment Nico panics.

But Jack just smoothly takes over the pan and the bacon and the grumbly Quinn in the hearth, cracks open the eggs and cooks up their breakfast and asks, "And you are...who?"

And Nico doesn't know if it's relief or disappointment that Jack can't tell that he was once the man Jack danced across the skies with, but he figures that's alright. He's only ever been good at helping and putting himself to work, and not much beyond that.

"You can just call me Grandpa Nico, lad. I'm here to help clean your castle and fix things up."

Jack beams at him, but there's something sharp about the way those blue eyes bore right into his own--almost like he's seeing right through Nico--but then Quinn heats a side of the pan a little too quickly and makes the bacon fat pop, and Luke is returning with a painfully rusted moka pot because he wants coffee, and the moment passes.

They go back to putting breakfast together once more.

And Nico, busy gathering the scarce few pieces of clean cutlery, doesn't notice the wistful way Jack watches him go.

[isalisewrites]

Summer after the traumatic end of the Triwizard Tournament, instead of Harry Potter getting visions of the latest evil plot from the Dark Lord, it is Voldemort who gets visions of The-Boy-Who-Lived’s childhood.

And they’re not pleasant.

---

When Newt accepted to become one of Harry Potter's secret guard as a favor to Albus Dumbledore, he hadn't anticipated being faced with a choice concerning the welfare and safety of a child: obey Albus Dumbledore's orders or stay at Voldemort's side to protect Harry.

Though difficult, the right choice was clear.

------

TWELVE EXCERPT:

After lunch, Voldemort sent Harry to his room to put his things away and he was grateful for the escape. It would give him some much needed space to decompress and make sense of everything.

He stepped into his room—his room, yet another thing to get over. He shut the door behind himself and sighed. His bags were placed at the foot of the bed. He glanced around the room, frowning. It looked different now, less like a guest room. The walls had been repainted from bright white to a pale blue. Near the window, a space had been made for a tall perch with a water bowl, the deep blue carpet giving way to dark blue tile. Hedwig slept on her new perch with her head tucked beneath a wing.

Harry smiled at the new addition of a large comfy bean bag chair near the shelves of books, which seemed to have a bunch of new books added. As he drew closer to the shelves, he froze.

On one of the shelves sat three plushies: a teddy bear, a dragon, and a rabbit.

Harry crouched on the floor with his hands on his knees and stared up at them.

Those—those were new. 

They were not here before they left. Harry would’ve noticed them, would’ve wondered about them. They’d gone to the shops for clothes, but Voldemort had left Harry and Newt alone for awhile. Harry could’ve easily dismissed it as coincidence if the teddy bear hadn’t been so similar to the one Dudley had been given when they were four years old. It could’ve been a coincidence if the dragon plushie wasn’t identical to the one Harry had wanted for his birthday when he was five years old.

Voldemort had gotten these for him. That was the only thing that made sense.

But, no way, that was ridiculous. 

Voldemort in a toy store? Laughable at best.

Harry sat back on his seat and crossed his legs. He continued to stare at them, unsure what to do. He didn’t want to ask about them and be told they were decoration or something. He’d have to leave them there. He didn’t want to assume anything and be disappointed in the end.

Besides, it was just some plushies. No big deal.

Harry bit his lower lip.

He doesn’t have any other kids around, right? Besides, I’m not a little kid. I’m nearly fifteen now. I don’t need toys. I’m almost grown up.

When he lifted his eyes away from the plushies, he noticed the other things now. There were two very large lego kits, a castle and a boat. A rubik’s cube sat next to two enormous 3D puzzles. There was also a black journal with a beautiful shiny pen next to it. A pen, not a quill and ink pot…There was a drawing pad with a set of drawing pencils. The newest books added were all nonmagical fiction books, some fantasy and some mystery. One book called The Velveteen Rabbit sat next to the rabbit plushie.

Harry covered half his face with his hands, still unable to remove his eyes from the collection of toys.

Toys.

Honest to god toys.

He was dreaming. Harry had to be dreaming now. First the clothes, now this? He squeezed his eyes shut, took a deep breath, and opened his eyes again. 

Nope, they all were still there.

He rubbed his eyes. Yup, still there. Right. All right. So, Harry wasn’t dreaming, then. He’d died. Someone must’ve killed him, then. This was too good to be true. Uncle Vernon must’ve killed him. Hell, maybe Voldemort killed him.

Which meant… Was this heaven to Harry? Getting saved by Voldemort himself where Harry was given a room of his own, clothes on his back, and things to call his own?

Was this heaven, then?

“Fuck,” muttered Harry, wiping at the tear that slipped through his control. “Fuck. This can’t be real.”

[3pirouette]

Fic: Timeless (1/1)

Title: Timeless

By: TriplePirouette/3Pirouette

Spoilers: Loki Season 2 (especially Episode 6), MCU through Endgame, Several of my own Steggy Fic

Disclaimer: They're not mine.

Distribution: AO3/Tumblr  Anyone else please ask first :)

Story Summary: for @behindthelabels for Steggymas2023/Steggy Week 2024 Day 5 “Inspired by”! Hauhet spends her days languishing in the Decoding and Intelligence office at the TVA, but when things start to unravel into chaos, she finds she, too, had a normal life on the timestream as one Agent Peggy Carter. 

AN: Inspired by the Taylor Swift song Timeless (Which is irrevocably Steggy) and Season 2 of Loki and the character of Oroborus. This was put on the back burner once I found out Behindthelabels actually HADN’T watched Loki season 2 and would understand none of this. I wrote her another fic, and said she’d get this as the non-returnable stocking stuffer she never asked for. Almost a year late, but, here you go! Thanks @steggyfanevents

Also, I decided to be REALLY self indulgent and reference a bunch of my own fic as AUs. I tried to include some of my "Greatest hits."

I highly recommend either listening to this song or looking up the lyrics before reading the story. From a random lyrics website: "The song is ultimately about a love so powerful that it would still come to fruition even under circumstances that made it close to impossible to exist."

Hauhet- Egyptian goddess of infinity

Tenses jump back and forth between past and present on purpose. I hope it’s not too jarring, but I felt it would be an interesting way to portray that everything is happening all at once and yet over and over again… 

Also see notes at the end of the fic…

~*~

Read below or HERE on AO3

~*~

It was, in a word, chaos. Time was branching, and without the branches being snipped, she didn’t know what would happen. 

That wasn’t her department, though. The little sign that said “Decoding and Intelligence” on her door kept her separated from the rest of the TVA and though she felt the need to jump into the fray, there was also a deep fear that she’d done that before and it had come to no good. 

That she’d suffered great loss. 

Some days, her little isolated office of books and codes felt like home. People so rarely needed her or visited her, but when she was needed to decode messages or break complicated cyphers, Hauhet knew she was appreciated. 

Yet, sometimes, her little office felt like a prison. 

If she thought too long, she couldn’t remember, exactly, how long she’d been there. She couldn’t remember when or how she’d gotten her job. She couldn’t quite remember what her home even looked like. But those thoughts vanished like the ether, quickly replaced with the urge to update her codex or rearrange her shelves of gadgets. The impetus to think never really left her though, and she spent most of her time alone feeling unsettled, like she was meant for more. 

She just knew she had to be ready, available, for when a time agent would come to her, needing help. Those were the times she felt like she was doing what she was meant to do: breaking cyphers, deciphering codes, solving mysteries. They never let her outside of the TVA, never took her with them on site, but she felt just a hint of value inside her. 

She had so much more to give. She knew that. She just didn’t know how to tell anyone else. 

Not that anyone asked, anyway. 

But the chaos outside of her door today stirred something deep inside her, and within a few minutes she hacked her data pad, listening to the conversations of those agents floors and floors away, discussing things that shocked her. 

They had been people. People in the time stream. 

She wasn’t just a worker at the TVA. She had been someone before that. She’d had a life and a family and she had had something so important that felt just out of reach to her into the annals of her mind. If she closed her eyes and concentrated she saw smart clothes in army green and bright blue and fiery red. High heels and dramatic hats. 

Red, white, and blue Stars and Stripes that made her heart flutter. 

All she ever wore was drab TVA khaki with her sensible sneakers and her hair in a tight knot at the top of her head. With a sudden burst of longing that had to be from something real, she missed the feel of soft silk on her legs and the powerful sound of high heels clicking on tile floors. 

There was a smile. 

She missed a smile. 

If she closed her eyes she could see it: bright teeth that were straight, but not too straight, soft pink lips, a little hint of a quirk on one side so genuine she could feel her heart melt. 

She’d had someone. 

Hauhet stood and paced her little room, running her hands over the bookshelves lined with thick tomes, new and old, chewing at her lip as she tried to get the nervous energy out of her body. 

It was a loss and a gift all at the same time: she’d had another life, but she didn’t know if she could find it or get back to it. 

Did she even want to?

What if… what if that life wasn’t as exciting as this one? What if she’d contributed even less? She picked up her Data pad, rolling it over and over in her hands. There was only one way to find out. 

Hauhet sat at her computer and pulled out a small set of tools, slipping her magnifying glasses on. It took longer than she liked, but eventually she had her data pad wired into her computer. 

With a deep breath, she input the search and waited only a few seconds for it to blink upon her screen. She pulled her glasses off slowly and watched…

~*~

“Well, what do you think?” Steve turns in a circle in the empty living room, pointing at the stairs to the second floor. “Three rooms and a full bathroom up there, half bath, kitchen, a den, and a living room here. Plenty of space downstairs in the basement for a washer and a dryer and a home office…” He shrugs, smiling. 

Peggy sighs, bouncing Mandy in her arms. “You don’t think it’s too big?” The baby giggles, reaching out her arms for Steve. Peggy passes her over before wandering away into the kitchen. “It just seems like a lot…”

”It is,” he quickly agrees. “It’s more than I ever had, that’s for sure.” He steps over to her, looking out the window over the sink, past the back porch and into the green expanse of the back yard. 

“More than I’ve had as well,” Peggy mutters, turning back to him. She taps her fingers on the stove before walking a slow circle in the kitchen, eyes roaming over every surface. “I’m used to barracks and hot plates now.”

Steve nods, his hand running over the downy hairs on Mandy’s head as she snuggles into his shoulder. “Yeah, well, there’s room to spread out,” he says gently, looking up with warmth in his eyes, “Room to grow.”

Peggy pauses, thinking about all the things they’ve said to one another, all the promises they’ve made, and for once, there’s about to be peace in their lives with little else to do but think about the future. The ring on her left hand is still new, and she turns it with her fingers anxiously. 

There will be time to think about growing. 

“It’ll be tight,” she starts, turning pragmatic as she moves past him and towards the front door, “on our pays.”

He follows, a bright spring in his step as he knows she’s made her decision. “I’m pretty sure they’re keeping us on the payroll, Peg.” He smiles at Mandy, bouncing her in his arms as he follows her out the front door. 

“And there’s going to be plenty of work to do to keep it up: mowing, gardening, taking out the trash…” she pauses, tilting her head as if she’s just thought about it. “We’re going to have to do our own grocery shopping. Cooking.”

”I’m sure Jarvis will take pity on us once in a while,” Steve chuckles. He joins her on the front step, closing the front door behind him and looking it over before turning back to her. “So?”

Peggy turns, still serious, looking at the door and all it represents. “What do you think, darling?” She reaches over and tickles Mandy under the chin. “Ready to have your own room? Leave the little government apartment we’ve called our own for a few months now?”

Mandy’s squeal and giggle are a resounding positive. 

“Alright then, darling, we’re all in agreement,” Peggy smiles up at Steve. “We’re going to be homeowners.” She leans up, kissing him quickly, but stopping him when he starts to speak again. “We’re not getting dog.”

~*~

Loop 1

Hauhet stood and paced her little room, running her hands over the bookshelves lined with thick tomes, new and old, chewing at her lip as she tried to get the nervous energy out of her body. 

It was a loss and a gift all at the same time: she’d had another life, but she didn’t know if she could find it or get back to it. 

Did she even want to?

What if… what if that life wasn’t as exciting as this one? What if she’d contributed even less? She picked up her Data pad, rolling it over and over in her hands. There was only one way to find out. 

Hauhet sat at her computer and pulled out a small set of tools, slipping her magnifying glasses on. It took her less time than it should have to wire her data pad to the computer, she was surprised at how easy it seemed. 

With a deep breath, she input the search and waited only a few seconds for it to blink upon her screen. She pulled her glasses off slowly and watched…

~*~

The music swelled, and Peggy couldn’t quite stop the welling of emotion in her chest. 

“I promise I’ll write ya,” Steve says loudly, loud enough that his voice carries all the way to the back of the empty auditorium. 

“And I’ll write you, every day,” she answers under the hot stage lights in her best American accent, stepping forward and putting her hand on his arm. “Just promise you’ll come home to me.”

He looks at her, stares at her for longer than he should, before saying his next line. “Hitler himself couldn’t stop me from coming home to you, Betty.” There’s a lilt in his voice she’s never heard before, a catch before he says her character’s name. 

The music swells again, and when the lights go out and they hurry off stage, she can’t quite seem to catch her breath. 

“You okay?” Steve asks as soon as they’re off stage, the lights raising again and filling the wings with warmth as the girls take center stage to sing. 

Peggy turns back to him, nodding and forcing her breath to even out. “It just…”

”Seemed almost real, right?” he nods, pulling her deeper into the wing and out of the way of the stage hands setting up the next scene change. He almost crowds her into the corner in his effort to give her some privacy while she composes herself. 

Peggy nods at him, wiping away tears that aren’t quite shed from the lash line of her eyes, the dark black stage eyeliner coming off on her fingers. “I almost lost you once, Steve, and I will not go through that again.” 

He leans down, taking her into his arms and letting her melt into him. “You won’t have to, Peg. I promise.”

”You don’t know that, you just can’t-“

”You won’t, I-“

”I hate to break this up,” Angie’s voice, full of her own thick emotion, floods over them, “because I’m sure you could use a minute.” She sniffs, wiping at her own stage make up carefully to lift the tears away. “I mean, you got me crying, too!” She reaches over and pulls Peggy from Steve’s arms gently, “But if we don’t move our asses we’re gonna miss the quick change again and you heard him- if he has to stop the show we’re gonna be here all night and I do not have another 15 hour rehearsal in me!”

Steve watches Peggy go, his arms feeling empty as Angie hurries her away to the little dressing screen they have set up for her. 

He felt it, too. Maybe it is the music, or the costumes. Maybe between the lights and the costumes, the backdrops and the speakers, it makes it feel like hyper reality. But whatever it is, something is different. It isn’t hypothetical anymore. She’d almost lost him once already, and as soon as they’re done here he’ll be on the front sooner rather than later, and she’ll be there, too, in just as much danger. 

And yet, his arms feel empty without her. 

He doesn’t want to write letters. 

He doesn’t want to go months without seeing her. 

He doesn’t want to go to bed one single night without her next to him. 

It is an amazing feeling, swelling in the sadness that had just filled him from their little, poorly written scene. 

He loves her, and he knows now he isn’t letting go. 

~*~

Loop 114

Hauhet stood and paced her little room, running her hands over the bookshelves lined with thick tomes, new and old, chewing at her lip as she tried to get the nervous energy out of her body. This felt like it had happened before. 

Could that be? 

Could time have repeated? Here? In the TVA?

It was a loss and a gift all at the same time: she’d had another life, but she didn’t know if she could find it or get back to it. 

Did she even want to?

What if… what if that life wasn’t as exciting as this one? What if she’d contributed even less? She picked up her Data pad, rolling it over and over in her hands. There was only one way to find out. 

Hauhet sat at her computer and pulled out a small set of tools, slipping her magnifying glasses on. The ease with which she was able to connect her data pad to her computer, something she’d never done before, told her that time was indeed not running correctly. 

It didn’t much matter right now, though. 

With a deep breath, she input the search and waited only a few seconds for it to blink upon her screen. She pulled her glasses off slowly and started to watch…

~*~

The rain pounded the top of her canvas tent, the little light she had flickered in and out as the storm raged. She couldn’t seem to get dry in her little tent, but then again, nothing had been dry in days. 

It felt like the war had come to a stand still. Both sides were trying to fight trench foot and keep people warm and alive. They didn’t have time to fight one another. Hydra seemed farther and farther away every day that kept her in camp and away from the front. 

Instead, all Peggy could do was pull out her little nub of a pencil and write. Again. 

Not that Steve minded. She was sure he didn’t, just like she didn’t mind any time she got a letter from him back in New York. She opened the little tin box she used to keep her paper dry and ran her fingers over the little picture of Steve she kept taped to the top. He’d obviously posed for it, had someone else snap it and gotten it developed just to send to her. It was the only thing she really cared about keeping dry, that and his letters. 

She ran her fingers over them, filled with stories from home and all the things he wanted to do with her once the war was over, all the things he wanted to say to her in person but would have to suffice in the written word. 

They were an ocean part, with only the vaguest of promises between them, but she knew, deep in her heart, that the frail boned man would be her destiny. She’d known the first time he’d smiled at her. 

She pulled out his last letter and started reading. It still astounded her that he liked her, that a smart, interesting, funny man like him could find something in her. She’d always been told she was too bold, too brash, for men to like her. All her life her mother had tried to get her to play a part to attract a suitor, and now, after Erskine’s experiment, she knew she wasn’t what most men would find attractive. 

Steve? Steve looked at her with love in his eyes and it astounded her every time. 

She read about the war effort and his experiments with Stark, his art projects and how much he hated watching the kid in the neighborhood have to go without birthday cakes because of rationing. 

She read his letters over and over again until she could recite them by heart. Some days, deep in a foxhole or shivering in the rain while she waited to raid a Hydra strong hold, reciting his words in her head were all that gave her hope. 

She loved him, and she was pretty sure he loved her. 

She just needed to put an end to this damn war, and then she’d be able to show him just how much. 

~*~

Loop 872

Hauhet stood and paced her little room, running her hands over the bookshelves lined with thick tomes, new and old, chewing at her lip as she tried to get the nervous energy out of her body. This seemed… familiar. This action, this moment. 

She’d lived it before.

The emotions weren’t new. They were old and worn in, even if she couldn’t remember ever feeling them before. 

She picked up her Data pad, rolling it over and over in her hands. There was only one way to find out. 

Hauhet sat at her computer and pulled out a small set of tools, slipping her magnifying glasses on. In seconds the interface was working. 

With a deep breath, she input the search and waited only a few seconds for it to blink upon her screen. She pulled her glasses off slowly and started to watch…

~*~

“Skinny Bastard,” Phillips mutters, shaking his head as he enters. 

Steve laughs, climbing down the ladder and out of the rafters of the stage. “You’re gonna have to stop calling me that one day.” He holds his hand out once his feet are on the ground, smiling when Phillips shakes it firmly. 

Phillips works hard to hide his smile. “You’re a day late.”

”Don’t go blamin’ him!” Angie’s voice carries through the empty auditorium. The building is almost unrecognizable to what it was a few years ago when they put on their first show. She weaves her way through the rows of seats, carrying garment bags of gowns in her arms. “All this one’s fault! 

“Now that’s just-“ Bucky’s words fall away as he sees Phillips’ stern look. “sir. Yes sir, I was just-“

”Dawdling? Like always?” He holds his stare for a moment, watching the way the poor man’s Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows before shaking his head and laughing. “I’m not your commanding officer anymore, Barnes.”

”No,” he responds, moving into he room with his arms full of stacked crates, “But you do put us up for the whole winter while put together a new show so I figure I should still, ya know.”

Steve pulls the crates from Bucky’s hands, stopping his rambling. “Go get the rest of it, will ya?”

”Yeah, yeah,” he mutters, dropping his head and heading out to Phillips’ amusement.��

Phillips follows Steve to where he drops the crates by the edge of the stage. “So what’s the big to-do? Ana’s been looking like the cat that swallowed the cream and won’t give any of us a damn hint.”

Steve smiles to himself as he starts to unpack the stage lights from he crates. “Peggy won’t be in the show this year.” 

Phillips watches him carefully. “I’d ask if there was trouble in paradise, but you’re still wearing your ring, and you’ve got that stupid, suspicious as hell smile on your face that I don’t like.” He leans back on the edge of the stage, watching as Angie weaves through the seats to head back out and help Barnes with unpacking the rest of the truck. “You let that wife of yours get a better offer from a club in the city?” 

Peggy’s voice rings out from the wings. “Oh no, I promise you, I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

He looks over, but can’t see her in the dark. “Well then, what’s the damn secret?”

Peggy moves out, less graceful and less lithe than she was last time she was on this stage, hindered this time by the way her rounded belly leads the way. She lets her hand run over it, her dress tightening for just a moment so Phillips can see it. “Not much of a secret anymore, I’m afraid.”

”Skinny Bastard knocked you up!” he can’t help the smile that slides along his face. He claps Steve on the shoulder. “Congratulations, you two!”

Peggy waddles over to the edge of the stage, letting Steve gently lift her down. “I’m afraid I had to tell someone. Looks like our little one may be making an appearance before we’re done for the season. She’s helped me find a local midwife.”

”Good, good,” Phillips mutters, watching the way Steve absentmindedly stokes her lower back as he inventories his crate, the way her hand smooths over the rounded bump of her stomach. “Makes sense why he wouldn’t put you in the show.”

”Absolutely does not,” Peggy bites out, eyes narrowing. 

“Does too,” both men reply at the same time. 

She huffs, but doesn’t make a quip back. This is an old fight, and one she doesn’t want to rekindle now. 

“Jarvis!” Phillips calls, and the mana pops his head in the auditorium comically fast. 

“Yes, sir!”

”Did you know Carter was pregnant?”

”I believe she goes by Mrs. Rogers now, but yes, Ana had let it slip that-“

”Well, why in the hell are you still standing here? We have work to do!” Phillips stars moving away, despite Steve and Peggy’s protests. “we’ve got to make sure that cabin’s draft free, and that their hot water heater’s been checked and re-checked. Get that midwife on the phone for me, she’ll be staying here until that baby’s born. And another…”

His voice fades as he and Jarvis disappear from the room into he main part of the inn. 

“I told you,” Peggy mutters, leaning back on the edge of the stage. “He’s going to make an insufferably big deal of this.”

”Of course he is!” Barnes pipes in, carrying another set of crates in. “In my opinion, Steve is being way too cavalier about my godson being born.” 

“Or goddaughter,” Angie cuts him off quickly. “And he’s just being sensible, aren't you, Steve?”

”I’m trying,” he sighs, turning to Peggy. “I really think you should have stayed in the City. I could be back as soon as you go into labor and-“

”Absolutely, under no circumstances, will you miss the birth of our child because of show.” She raises her eyebrows at him. “Especially one you won’t let me in.” She softens, taking his hand and settling it over her belly where he can feel the soft kicks. “This is a family act, Rogers. Get used to it.”

”Yes, Ma’am.”

~*~

Loop 2,467

She didn’t think about it anymore, just let her body run on instinct. She’d been here before, she’d done these things before. 

With a deep breath, she input the search and waited only a few seconds for it to blink upon her screen. She pulled her glasses off slowly and started to watch…

~*~

“Damnnit, Rogers, run faster!”

Steve pumps his legs, jostling Peggy on his shoulder. “I’m running for two here, Jones!” He calls back as they move through the cavern, the walls shaking and collapsing around them. 

“Care would be appreciated!” Peggey called from over his shoulder where he was carrying her, her arms and legs still tied tight to her sides, a high pitched squeal leaving her throat as Steve narrowly jumped away from a tumbling boulder. 

“Speed might be better!” Jones called, hysteria creeping into his voice, jumping over a crack that appeared in the ground in front of them. 

Steve took the same widening crack, now nearly a full chasm, easily as dirt and pebbles started to fall from the ceiling. 

“Is this standard Hydra?” Jones called, slowing and climbing over a pile of rubble that stood between them and the exit. 

Steve took Indy’s hand, keeping one arm around Peggy and letting his friend boost him up and help him navigate the rubble. “Not really, no,” he replied loudly, never missing a step as the path cleared out in front of them once they were over. “But then again, I’m not that surprised, either.”

”Implosion or explosion?” Peggy asked, looking up at Jones from over Steve’s shoulder as he took the lead, using his nearly photographic memory to wind them back through the shaking catacombs. 

“Could be either,” Jones huffed, trying to keep up, “but I’m betting implosion. Easier to set this low in the ground.”

”Either one is bad,” Steve bit out, moving faster.

Peggy dropped her head, unable to hold on with her hands still tied to her sides. “Bit of an understatement, darling.”

”Are we having a chat?” Indy bit out sarcastically, overtaking Steve again as the dying sunset shone through the small entrance of the cave. “I’d like to get as far away from the bomb as possible, please!”

Jones shimmied out of the small hole, then reached his arms back in, carefully grabbing Peggy around the hips as Steve set her down and wiggled her through the opening. Jones had her in his arms, though a little less gracefully than Steve, and was running as soon as her feet left the ground. 

“Steve!”

”Steve will be fine,” Indy puffed out, breathless as he moved across the empty desert terrain. “He’ll be better than us if he’s close.”

”Won’t be close,” Steve called out, just a step behind, “Let’s move!”

 He reached out, pulling Peggy from Jones’s arms and both men pushed their legs even farther and harder. 

They felt the explosion before they heard it, the ground shaking beneath their feet. Indy and Steve tumbled to the ground, both men wrapping themselves around Peggy as they tumbled, working to keep one another safe. 

They skidded to a halt just in time to turn and look at the small mountain they had just been under crumble in on itself, spewing dirt and sand into the air. When the cloud settled and the ground stopped shaking, when they could blink their eyes open again and when the dry coughing from the dust-laden air stopped, there was only a crater filled with rubble where there had once been a secret Hydra base. 

“Implosion,” Indy muttered, humming. “Told ya.”

Steve sat back, pulling his helmet and gloves off, wiping at his face where stark lines of dirt streaked where his helmet hadn’t covered. “Told ya It’d be bad.”

Indy pulled his hat off his head, hitting it to get the dust dislodged. “Well of course it was going to be bad, Rogers, it was a self-destruct.”

”Hydra doesn’t always-“

”Well of course they always-“

Peggy huffed, lifting both feet and slamming them back down in the dirt, getting the attention of the men as they talked over one another as they let off the adrenaline of the last few hours. “I’d get up and leave you two to your bickering,” she started, wiggling in place as the ropes that tied her together were still laced across her chest and down around her legs, “but I seem to be having some trouble. Care to help?”

She raised her eyebrow at them, waiting as they both stared at her, jaws hanging open. 

“Well?” She asked again, wiggling her hands at her side when they still didn’t move. “Untie me!”

Indy leaned back, smiling. “You know, you're the one who ran off and got captured. Seems it’s in our best interest to keep you from running off again, don’t you think, Steve?”

Peggy huffed, but Steve shrugged, sitting back. “I think slowing her down a little bit isn’t a bad idea.”

”You wouldn’t dare!” Peggy bit out, starting to get truly incensed. 

Steve shrugged as he and Indy stood, wiping the dust off themselves. “I could use to know where you are for a bit, Peg.” He smiled in a way that was usually cheeky and charming, but only served to increase her ire. He reached down, even as she started squirming, and hoisted her over his shoulder again. 

“You put me down and let me out of this right now!” She wiggled, but didn’t fight against his tight grip too much as he started walking back the mile and a half to the jeep in step with Jones. 

“You heard him, Peg,” Indy said, his voice full of smug teasing. “We gotta know where you are.”

Peggy lifted her head, throwing Indy a harsh look before she flopped back down. “Don’t think I won’t forget this,” she muttered. 

“Don’t think I’m gonna forget you scaring the shit outta me,” Steve replied, “by intentionally getting yourself captured.”

”Language!” Indy interjected with a smile. 

“Well, it worked,” Peggy muttered, her fight gone. “Hydra’s lost another base and we have a lead on Schmidt.”

Steve didn’t say anything, but she felt more than heard his grumble. 

After a few quiet minutes, Peggy finally spoke again. “Well, joke’s on you, darling, I’m getting a lovely break back here, with a lovely view, and you’re doing the work for both of us.”

Indy laughed next to them. “If you want to leave her here, Rogers, I won't tell anyone.”

”Nah,” Steve responded, gently tightening his hold on her as the Jeep came into view, “I’ve grown a little attached.”

~*~

Loop 12,356

Hauhet could hardly breathe. She couldn’t remember anything, not really, little foggy memories and ideas of lives before this, of painted nurseries and undercooked hams and missions in snowy communist countries. 

All of those half formed memories seemed much, much more real than her time at the TVA, than whatever illusion of a life she had here. 

With a deep breath, she input the search into the data pad and waited only a few seconds for it to blink upon her screen. She pulled her glasses off slowly and started to watch…

~*~

“Steve! You’ve come back!” 

He takes her hand, holding tightly from the side of the bed. 

“Yeah, Peg, I’m here.”

She could feel the emotion welling up in her chest as she tried to sit up, but he just smiled down at her, leaning forward and helping her sit. Always the gentleman. 

“Easy, Peg,” he whispers, his voice thick with his own emotion. 

“How?” She whispers, reaching up and running her hand over his cheek. She pauses, looking at the dissonance between their skin: his as young as the last time she saw him, and hers, withered and wrinkled with a lifetime lived. 

He lifts her hand from his cheek, holding it in both of his as he sits on the side of her bed, smiling sweetly. “It’s a long story for another day.”

She can’t help but be maudlin, can’t help but say all the things she’s thinking. “I missed you every day, my darling.”

His eyes flutter shut, chin falling to his chest. “I-“

”Don’t apologize,” she whispers, “I came to terms with what you did long ago.” He looks up at her, and this time, his eyes are filled with tears. “Doesn’t mean I didn’t love you, didn’t miss you, every day.”

He swallows, hard, and threads his fingers in with hers. “Didn’t mean to stand you up for our date,” he croaks out, fighting to force a smile. 

Peggy smiles up at him, holding his hand tighter in hers. “You’re here now. you always were just a little late, weren’t you?”

~*~

Loop 300,465

She doesn't think, she just does. Hauhet has learned to trust her intuition in her time with the TVA, but something screams in her that she’s simply remembering now. Something screams to her that this was a skill she had before.

This was something she’d done without thought. 

Agent.

Even the seconds it takes for her to connect the Data pad seem too long. 

She needs to know…

~*~

“Peggy, this is my choice.”

Peggy holds the microphone tight in her hand. She wants to say something, anything, but no words come to her, nothing swells but the feeling of loss, bigger than anything she’s felt in a long time. 

His voice comes through the line, tinny and resigned. “Peggy, I’m gonna need a rain check on that dance.”

”All right,” She takes a deep breath, desperate to hold on to whatever time she has left with him, uncaring of who is still in the room, uncaring of the tears running down her face. “A week next Saturday, at the Stork Club.”

”You got it.” His voice is tight, strained. But not afraid. 

Never afraid. 

Steve has never, for one moment, been afraid of what he’s thought he’s had to do since she’s known him, even when he was small and skinny and jumping on grenades.

”Eight o’clock on the dot,” she continued, trying to take some of his bravery, trying to steal some of his damn assuredness, “don’t you dare be late. Understood?”

”You know I still don’t know how to dance,” he rushes out, his voice starting to shake. She pretends it’s just the shaking of the plane. 

She can’t help but smile, can’t help but think maybe… maybe… if there is a God in this world, he won’t let this good man die on her today. “I’ll show you how,” she rushes out, hoping he can hear how much she needs him, how much she wants him to survive this in her voice. “Just be there.” 

His voice is raising. It’s not much, but she can tell it’s there. Nervousness. “We’ll have the band play something slow.” The ship shakes over the line, the sound of shivering metal something she’s heard before in transmissions just before disaster strikes. “I’d hate to step on your-“

The static, a low rumble in the room, is deafening. 

“Steve?” She pleads across the line. “Steve?”

She’s lost him. 

She can only pray, as the tears fall, that there’s still a chance to find him. 

~*~

Loop 1,475,692

Hauhet sits heavy on the floor of her office.

No, not Hauhet. Peggy Carter. 

Agent Peggy Carter. 

She’d had a life once. 

The memories flood into her, stronger than whatever force is being used to keep her complacent. This day has happened over and over. She sees herself, sitting at that desk, over and over. Hundreds of times. Millions of times. 

More than any sane person could handle, she’s sure, if they could remember. 

But she does remember now. Because she met him in every single branch. Every single universe. Every single timeline. 

Steve Rogers. 

And no matter when or how they met, it felt like home. 

She could feel him, sitting in her heart, like a beacon. She had her own Steve. There was a man with that little boyish lopsided smile and the courage of a lion out there somewhere, waiting for her. 

And she’d been languishing in this pace for millennia, doing the tedious desk work she’d fought so hard to get away from all of her life. 

She hadn’t found her Steve yet, she knew that. None of the branches, none of the stories she had seen so far gave her anything more than a longing. 

She’d feel it when she found him, when she found her timeline and her world. She knew it. 

And as long as this day kept repeating, she’d find him. She’d find their life together. 

They made each other better. Even in the timeliness when they lost one another, even in the timelines when there was only a short period of time left together, they made one another better. 

They were timeless, finding one another again over and over, no matter what the world looked like, no matter when their souls showed up. 

Even if he was gone in her timeline, she wanted to be a place where he was, where he had been and she could find and recover and languish in the memories. 

She was ready to give up this drab, rote existence. 

Saving the universe meant nothing in here. Saving it from out there? With her heels and her gun and the love of her life? 

Well, that was something that had real value, and Peggy was going to stop at nothing to find it. 

Without even thinking she let her hands fly over the wires, connecting her Data pad to the computer. 

She was going to find him, and she was going to get back to him. 

~*~

End A/N: 

While we have our MCU Steggy and What If…? Steggy, I couldn’t HELP but throw in my favorite Steggys in there from my own fic. (Yes, it’s a little *cough*lot*cough* self indulgent) They’re all Extra Scenes that don’t show up in the main fic and they’re inspired by the lyrics to Timeless. In order that they show up in the story:

1- Nobody’s Baby (Two lovers laughin’ on the porch of their first house)

2-The Captain and the Missus (On a Crowded Street in 1944 and you were headed off to fight in the war)

3-What if…? (I would have read your love letters every single night)

4- A Red, White, and Blue Christmas (Which brought me back to the the first time I saw you Time stood still)

5-Interested Parties Series (Indiana Jones Crossover) (Down the block there’s an antique shop)

6- Captain America: The Winter Soldier (Time breaks down your mind and body, don’t you let it touch your soul)

7- Captain America: The First Avenger (Story of a romance Torn Apart by Fate)

[jelzorz]

173.

It's something that Claudia notices incidentally.

She'd noticed, of course, when she came back, how much Ezran had grown. His jaw is sharper now, his shoulders broader, his smile charming and roguish and handsome, even under the weight of his crown. Claudia had always thought him sweet as a boy, but he's a man now, and the knowledge is disarming more often than it isn't.

They put her to work in the gardens after her return. Ez had called it justice: her hands, covered in blood after causing so much harm now sentenced to be soiled with dirt to help give life. He is kinder and more merciful than she deserves, and she'll never forget that. She will never forget that it might have been a noose if he hadn't pulled rank on his own brother, and that Callum is still angry about it months after the fact—but that kindness is handsome too, and it isn't helping. Ez had been so young when it had all happened, and then she was working against them and she didn't have the time to actually look at him, and now...

She knows what she likes. She knows the features she thinks are beautiful. She knows Ezran has grown up well.

And it's strange to think about, sometimes, because he's so much younger than her, because he was like a younger brother to her once, and because this is not at all the life she thought she'd be living, but the thought is there all the same.

She is in the library this morning. She's after a book on talloweed, because it's somehow found its way into her herb garden and she needs a way to get rid of it without harming her plants. The one she wants is a shelf too high, just out of reach of her fingers even as she stretches onto the tips of her toes. The ladder is two bookcases away and would take longer to get than if she could just—

"Here."

Someone reaches over her, graceful brown fingers sure in their movements, arm still crooked at the elbow because they are tall enough not to have to stretch. Claudia blinks as Ezran sets the book in her hands, clear blue eyes twinkling in the morning sun.

"Oh," she says stupidly. "Thanks."

Ez grins at her. "Don't mention it," he says cheerfully. "You're not the first. You won't be the last. These shelves are stupidly high."

"You do this for all the girls you find in here, do you l?"

He laughs, bright and bell-like. "A king is a servant to his people, right?" he says, sketching a bow. "Need anything else from up there?"

"Oh, um." Claudia glances away to hide the warmth creeping up her neck. "No, it's all good. Thank you."

"Don't stress," he says. "Happy to help. See you later." He grins again, waving a little before he heads out of the aisle and futher into the depths of the library, and Claudia stares, at the way muscles in his back move beneath his shirt, at the broadness of his shoulders as he swing shis arms, at the way his hair is braided and bunched above his crown.

He's not a boy anymore. He hasn't been one in a while.

Claudia turns back to her book and tries not to think too hard about it.