#the text in the corner: 'NEXT: REBELLION'

[introspectivememories]

jon kent is so fucking funny. he sees a dictator and is like "is anyone gonna overthrow that?" and then just doesn't wait for answer

[checkoutmybookshelf]

Ok, something has been bugging me about Dain and his signet, and I want to talk about it for a second.

I was thinking back over Fourth Wing and Iron Flame to see if there were any moments where Vi consented to having her memories read, and not only was the answer no, somethig HELLA chilling popped up when I went back to check the text.

When Xaden explains to Vi that Dain has to touch someone's face to read their memories, her response is "...that's how he always touches me" (Fourth Wing, 450). I get that Dain's signet is secret and he can't just TELL Vi what he can do when he catches her immediately after she crosses the parapet, but one of the first things he does in that scene is take her chin (Fourth Wing, 32) in his fingers. He establishes a pattern of behavior, normalizes his touching her face as a habit. And yes, it could be argued that not touching her face would also give away his signet somehow, but as the person with knowledge, Dain is responsible for the ethics of using and setting patterns around his signet. He either had to just...NOT touch her face, which child be justified by not wanting to make her look weak or come clean. But Dain "my heart is a rulebook" Aetos does neither. And what does THAT do? It puts Vi in a vulnerable as hell position with someone she thinks she is safe with.

Even take the rebellion and Athebyne out if the equation for a sec. Vi almost certainly has memories that are just simply private. Not a massive secret, not a liability, just HERS. And for a huge part of the book, she is just letting Dain touch her face, potentially opening up memories she doesn't want him to know about to his signet. That is a power dynamic so absolutely fucky that I don't have words for it. And then we circle back to the reality that Dain did cross the line and try to take memories by force in Fourth Wing--and succeeding the one time we know about got Liam and Deigh killed. And this is just the main example that we know about. I'm not ruling out that there were other examples still to come to light; we have three books to go in this series.

I honestly also wouldn't have put it past Dain to do a quick memory check when he holds Vi's face at threshing before he kisses her (Fourth Wing, 191). He was NOT happy with Xaden for interfering, and I suspect he wanted a look at what happened without Xaden's input. This is purely my theory, there's no real textual evidence, but I am sus. He also cups her face again the day after threshing (Fourth Wing, 203), which is actively a worse choice I'd he slept on it and THEN checked her memories. I also find it wildly suspicious that the next time Vi sees Dain, she is with Tairn, who actively threatens Dains life if he comes within arm's reach of Vi (Fourth Wing, 215). We know Tairn knew things Vi didn't, so was he already preventing rebellion info from sliding to leadership?

Vi herself doesn't put a hard boundary on the face touching until Dain gets offended by Xaden accusing Amber of violating the codex and goes "gimme" (Fourth Wing, 244-245), but she sets it...for a while. The math on the Athebyne thing works out to Xaden telling Vi that's where he goes on page 391, and then Violet Goddamn Sorrengail gets nostalgic for Dain at the celebration with the king and everyone's parents and let's Dain cup her cheek again on page 405. Which is really goddamn tight timing when you think about it, because he touched her face at the beginning of this party, she and Xaden have their little tete a tete on the parapet, sneak off to have great sex for the rest of the night, and the next morning they are assigned to Athebyne. So Dain literally had to corner his Dad at the party and then Colonel Aetos probably spent the rest of the night changing the war game assignments and setting up Xaden's group to be killed.

Dain Aetos likes hard rules, but not ethics. This just gets even more screwy in Iron Flame, once Varrish gets his hooks in Vi.

If one wanted to be more generous than I'm feeling, one could say that Varrish was being polite about trying to get Dain to read Vi's memories in interrogation class (Iron Flame, 228-230), but honestly the motherfucker just saw an opportunity and rolled with it. And here is where Dain having the codex shoved far enough up his ass that it comes out his mouth is actually a win, because he rules-lawyered the spirit of the codex to refuse an order, but goddamn it was a close thing. This man was REACHING FOR VI'S FACE before he stopped himself.

I'm not like...surprised that Varrish isn't teaching our boy ethics, but I'm a little surprised Vi never called Dain's ass out for his lack of ethics regarding his signet. It's possible I read the Arrows of the Queen trilogy a few too many times though.

What Dain noticeably doesn't do the SECOND time Varrish drags him into an interrogation session with Violet is hesitate. Like he so fails to hesitate that VARRISH of all people has to remind Dain that he actually was taught ethics (Iron Flame, 316).

I think he deserves to experience everything Vi shows him, but the fact that it took THAT MUCH to get his head out of his ass? Yeah, no, we are not doing a Dain Aetos redemption arc.

Because when it comes right down to it, Dain was a) a shitty friend, b) absolutely godawful at ethics and morality, c) to married to rules for his own good, and d) knowingly put Violet in a vulnerable situation vis a vis his signet. Like...its a WAR COLLEGE. You're not running around touching people's faces on the regular anyway, just DONT. TOUCH. HER. FACE. Not before she knows about your signet at the very least, and probably not without her explicit consent after that, because here's the thing: at no point in Fourth Wing or Iron Flame did Dain EVER explicitly ask permission to touch Vi. He just DID it. Right from the beginning, after parapet, at threshing, and at the party, he just put hands on her without asking. And then in Iron Flame he's ordered to explicitly against her will, and as much as I love a good rescue, it does not excuse the massive ethical and consent breaches that have become a PATTERN with Dain.

So those are my thoughts about Dain, his signet, and ethics. All I can say is, I am still extremely not here for a Dain Aetos redemption arc.

[mduluozz]

First part (of around 10…ish?) of “Din”. I’m very nervous to post it—hell, I was nervous even thinking about writing it. But I’ve seen so many wonderful writers here, and the community has been so, so supportive. So yeah. The text in the pictures can be hard to read, so I’ll duplicate it here.

Seated in a quiet corner, Din cradled a piece of fabric that held the whispers of his childhood. Buried deep in his thoughts, he almost didn’t notice when the Armorer sat next to him. “Did you see that dream again?” she softly inquired. Din nodded. “Yes, it keeps visiting me.” The armorer sighed and nodded subtly. “Dreams have their own way of haunting us, when tied to the past.”

Din clutched the fabric tighter. “You know,” the Armorer continued, and her tone implied a smile behind the helmet, “your walks are not as secret as you might think. I’ve known about them. It’s not forbidden to seek solace outside these walls.” Din snapped out of his state. “You knew?”

The Armorer chuckled lightly. “I’ve noticed. Sometimes, a stroll beyond the shadows can bring peace one desires. Your secret is safe, your well-being is important to us. Go, take a walk, let the outside world embrace you for a while. It might offer the respite you seek.” The Armorer touched his shoulder. “But please. Wear some shoes.”

Din felt his cheeks flushing. “Okay. Thank you.”

Din, following the Armorer's advice, took a peaceful walk beyond the familiar Mandalorian hideout. The air carried a gentle warmth as the sun painted long shadows. He relished the feel of grass and warm earth beneath his feet—a simple pleasure that the soon-to-be full-armored warrior treasured.

These “secret” walks had become Din's personal escape, a quiet rebellion from his demanding training. Amidst the Watch's numerous responsibilities, he found solace in stolen moments. With his training nearing completion, the impending responsibility weighed on him, making these moments of respite all the more precious.

Din sought refuge in his favored spot, a flat rock perched high above the expansive valley. The routine was familiar – he removed his helmet, exposing his face to the soothing touch of sunlight. The surface of the rock beneath him retained the day's heat, providing a comforting warmth.

Seated in contemplation, he gazed upon the vastness below, a tranquil panorama that stretched beyond the horizon. As his thoughts unraveled, the dream, a lingering specter, occupied his mind. With each passing moment in the gentle sunlight, he felt the dream's icy grip gradually surrender, releasing its hold on his heart.

Suddenly, a subtle shift in the surroundings caught Din's attention, as if a cold gaze had fallen on his back. One of the many skills he had been trained in was staying aware, especially when nobody else was around. His back stiffened; he knew he was being watched.

Without hesitation, Din reached for his helmet.

[symphonic-scream]

Updated AU post for the Triad of Okujima AUs!

These were my first Persona 5 AUs, and so of course it's the first au to get an updated post!

Okay, so this au is actually three mini AU's that all were able to fit into one bigger au

Starting firstly, with, the already dating au

This one starts a few years before Joker even comes to Tokyo. Two lonely girls slowly become friends, entwining pinkies in their middle school library. High school is slowly approaching, and wordlessly, their relationship seems to shift

Shujin first year Makoto Niijima finally puts a name to it, asking to be girlfriends. Shujin first year Haru Okumura seals the deal with the first of many gentle kisses.

They meet up on Sundays, browsing book stores and finding small cafes. They spend their lunches together, sitting thigh to thigh on the stairs to the roof, holding hands beneath a textbook. They text unsaved numbers, smiling as their dreams take forms of happy futures

Okumura's desires distort. Sae buries herself in work. Haru is promised away. Makoto does as she's told.

They rarely see each other through their third year. Haru has to spend her Sundays with Sugimura. Makoto hunts the Phantom Thieves during lunch. Everytime Makoto goes to the roof to find Haru, she's already left for the day. Their messages are sent less often, typed but then deleted

Until, Makoto does the stupidest thing she's ever done. Until, a new Phantom Thief discovers their personal rebellion. Until, Makoto Niijima becomes Queen. Until, Johanna.

The next day, Makoto runs up to the roof, and her Persona's engine roars in her ears as she can't help but grin at the sight of Haru tending to her plants. They share the first hug they've had in weeks, and Makoto promises to free herself up for lunches again.

It doesn't fix everything, but, slowly, it starts to feel like before. Sneaking kisses on the stairs, goodnight texts, arrangements to spend time together. After the fireworks show, Makoto jogs up the street, soaked from the rain, and half stumbles into a dark corner to press a laughing kiss to Haru's waiting lips. They've said it before, but the echoing rain carries their tender "I love you"s

And. They stand there for as long as they can; Makoto soaked to the bone, rainwater dripping from her kimono, her hair, her face. Haru was completely dry, now damp where her love held her face, skin shiny, a mark left to prove it all was real

They don't get to meet up much over the summer. Makoto has her friends, for when Haru is locked away. She still misses her, of course. But she feels alive, for the first time since they shared that first kiss on the school roof

Hawaii.

A few days, sharing a hotel room in paradise, sharing a bed for the first time. The room has two, though there could've been fifty and they would've still used just the one. Haru in a light nightgown, sitting on the edge nervously, when Makoto emerges from the bathroom in her Buchimaru PJs. The adoring smiles, laced with nerves, as they start with a tender kiss

Johanna's engine purrs in Makoto's chest when she wakes up the next morning, the light from the window painting Haru in a warm, golden glow. She'll fight until her last breath for this girl, even if she doesn't wish to spend her life with her. Haru's happiness is all she needs

Then, a Beauty Thief appears. For a brief period, they're able to share glancing looks in the Metaverse, hands brushing together.

Okumura dies, and we move on to the second part of this au

Which will be UNDER THE CUT

Part two is, the living together au

The night Okumura dies, and Haru runs off, Makoto doesn't sleep. She lies awake, staring at her phone, waiting for a response from that unsaved number she's had memorized for so long. She wanted to run right over, but feared being unwelcome, or swarmed by cameras

Haru isn't in class the next day, but she is standing in the lobby of her apartment building. It's easy for them to sink into a hug, and an apology doesn't feel right. Makoto invites her upstairs, makes her some tea, and grows concerned when Haru falls asleep on her shoulder on the couch

It's an easy thing for her to offer. It's a little harder to convince Haru to say yes. It's even harder to get Sae on board. But, Makoto kisses Haru's forehead as she drifts awake, and softly asks her to stay, live there

There's a futon on the floor of Makoto's room for two months, and it goes unused. The young couple share her little twin bed, tangled and curled close enough that it's hard to distinguish where one begins and the other ends. Slowly, Haru bleeds life into the stiff Niijima apartment

After November 20, Sae comes home to two shaken teens, the TV hastily turned off, both turning to her for any confirmation that their crazy plan worked

Sae pretends not to see the way Makoto presses a kiss to Haru's temple. She pretends not to notice that Haru is wearing one of her sister's shirts. She knows they'll tell her when they're ready. It's about time she started trusting them, after all

On Christmas Eve, they reach towards eachother. Their fingers pass through the others'. Their reunion hug is painfully tight. Makoto swears to tell Sae, if they win. Haru corrects her; when they win.

Sae Niijima gets home late. Haru has gone to bed, leaving Makoto half asleep at the table. She keeps to her promise, and the elder sister asks to take her and her girlfriend out for Christmas dinner to celebrate

Maruki messes with things.

They graduate together, both accepted to the same school for post secondary. They have their futures ahead of them

Little pitstop for Strikers. Everyone knows they're dating, so they share one sleeping space in the camper van. There would be a funny moment where they discuss their upcoming anniversary, and one of the others says something about the first anniversary being special

Haru: what? It'll be our third anniversary in August?

Makoto: did we forget to say that? Whoops

And, now the third au

A skip to a few years later. Both have graduated, and feel secure in their jobs. Makoto works as a councilor for at risk youth, working with her bestie Ryuji to offer sports programs to every kid. Haru has her cafe, which has been raising in popularity.

So, they talk. Ten months after they talk, Makoto comes home to Haru crying joyfully in the bathroom. They're going to be parents

They have the support of the other Thieves along the way, and eventually welcome the smallest of Thieves to their growing family; their firstborn, their daughter Nonoka. And her younger twin brother, Keima

I don't have as much to say here. I think they'd be adoring parents, especially with the help of their friends. Their little Princess, and their little Prince

Anyways. Yeah. This was the updated overview of it. Let me know what you thought, any ideas you have, or just anything I love getting asks and stuff about my AU's

[wltsleakirazine]

WLTS Vol II Character Intro: Alzina

A long lost princess of a forgotten society, , and the backbone of the entire Valyrian rebellion, welcome the one and only Alzina!

For anyone interested in exploring more about Alzina's character/story, writer applications open at the end of December and artist applications open the beginning of March!

Linktree

(A description of all the text in the image can be found below the cut)

Name: Alzina

Age: 5,000+ years (26 mentally)

Height: 183cm (6'0)

Weapons:

Asolian broadsword

Background: A seasoned war general and the founder of Valyrian (the universe's last saving grace against a cruel and seemingly unstoppable empire), my efforts have been the only thing that has consistently managed to disrupt the plans of the Malod Empire. Once an Asolian princess, I have built myself up from the ruins of my destroyed planet after thousands of years in cry-sleep and am determined to set the balance of the universe right.

Extra text:

Asolian (next to bisexual flag)

She/They (under "Asolian")

Princess (under "She/They)

"The best boss" (next to "Alzina")

"My bff" (under "Alzina")

"1000% needs more sleep!" (under background)

"That isn't even statistically possible" (next to "1000% needs more sleep)

"Rarely goes on field missions, but absolutely will if needed" (bottom left corner of text box)

[copperbadge]

My proof copy of The Lady And The Tiger has arrived! The cover needs some work (the purple is great but a little too dark and low-contrast, and the black outlining on the text looks super weird) but the interior looks pretty good, so now I get to start work on making the epub and PDF versions. It’ll go on sale August 12th (National Parks Rebellion Day) and the trilogy will be complete!

Also it’s doing a weird thing to my camera where it’s definitely purple in person but unless I photograph it with something that is a true, saturated blue (like the cover of Infinite Jes above), it comes out blue on my phone camera. I have no idea what’s going on there. 

[ID: Two images of my new book, The Lady And The Tiger, a 6x9″ softcover. In the first image, where it is lying on top of an earlier book with a blue cover, the cover background is a lightly mottled purple, with white text, and two tiger emojis flanking a diamond ring emoji. In the second image, the exact same book is lying on a blanket next to Polk the orange tabby, who is sniffing one corner of it, and instead of looking purple it looks like a deep royal blue.]

[astercontrol]

Some complex thoughts about OCs in fanfic

So... I recently finished and posted a story in 3 parts, about Ram and Tron and Yori going out to a club together and having a threesome.

(because I love them and want them all happy, ok)

and... I was exploring a bunch of things in this story.

including:

Tron and Ram and Yori, a study of them as characters, their pasts, their motivations, their relationships (love 'em, ok, want to study every detail of them & their love)

Details of things in that world-- identity discs, the different ways programs charge on energy, what sorts of control the MCP exerted and how stuff changed when that control went away (I love the world, wanna figure out answers to all my questions bout how it works)

And, finally... other programs, other characters and how they fit in with the Main Three that I'm writing about.

So this involved me getting creative, both with worldbuilding, and with populating that world.

This called for some background OCs.

First I had Ram and Tron and Yori enter the club and take in the scene, the crowd of strangers. Overview of what this looked like; brief descriptions of these background extras and what they were doing.

And then they get to their table and sit down, and Yori starts making conversation with some programs at the next table-- who she knows from work, in the laser bay.

These include Voca, a text-to-speech program who works as an announcer... Mag and Iox who work with Yori on the laser... and Rollo_3.77 who's the record-keeping software in the laser bay.

So right from the start I've populated this whole setting with a bunch of characters I straight-up invented.

Except... I didn't.

Not even the extras in the crowd. One of them, at least, I described very recognizably as The Bead-Curtain Program, canonically encountered in the hallway while Tron and Yori were on their way to the Tower:

As for Voca... of course there's an automated voice making announcements in the laser bay! We heard her!

And yeah, one interpretation is that this is a live announcer, or some human who pre-recorded a bunch of announcements that play automatically at the proper times. The voice is too lifelike to be a typical synthesized computer voice in the 80's.

BUT, we know Encom had a bunch of technology far more advanced than what was publicly known in the 80's (MCP? this laser bay itself?) So, why not an unusually advanced text-to-speech program as well?

(She's got a pretty distinctive voice too; almost mistakable for The Majel-Barret-Voice Computer in Star Trek TNG. One thing that really suggests to me that she's a program: I'm pretty sure she's also the same voice who called out for "Program Aloo" in the Solar Sailer Dock.)

In my story, Voca the text-to-speech program is the main speaking character of the table that Yori's chatting with. But her companions Mag and Iox are also inspired by a scene from the laser bay:

Two programs' names are known to appear on the screen when the orange gets digitized. Yori, of course, in the lower right corner. And MCP, in the upper left.

It's entirely possible that the additional text above MCP is just indicating the orange is "magnified ten times."

But I can do whatever I want forever, so I decided it's the names of two other programs that work in the laser bay.

Now, as for Rollo_3.77.

I described him only as a program in warrior armor, introduced as the record-keeping software from the laser bay. He's quiet, seeming stiff and uncomfortable, especially when Yori mentions Ram's heroically strong resistance to the MCP's conversion tactics.

You'd only guess who he is from my other story.

The one about RedGuard_3.77. About the despair that wore down his User-belief until he caved, about his rectification into an elite red warrior... and his life-changing experience with Tron and Flynn, and how it finally drove him to question his loyalty to the MCP and take one final act of passive rebellion that might just have helped turn the tide in the favor of the good guys.

Of course he's having trouble adapting to being a blue-circuited record-keeping program again.

(With how hard he struggled to write a report for the MCP in that other story, I thought it would be kind of cruelly fitting to imagine him designed for laser-bay record-keeping. His name comes from Rolodex.)

So... this is my long-winded messy way of saying-- there's so many gradients between "canon character" and "totally made-up OC." Have fun. Explore all of them.

stories referenced:

Party at Pomu

What's All In The Wrist Stays In The Wrist

[her-masters-voice]

Plagiarist's revenge, part 1

"Hi there." The unexpectedly broken silence made you jump, leaving you teetering on the bookshelf ladder as you reached to put Hegel in his place next to Kant on the top shelf. It wasn't strictly following the owner Sarah's instructions to arrange the texts by year of study but, in your brattish act of rebellion, it seemed far more apt to keep the German idealists together, even if Hegel was in second year and Kant in first.

Hegel still clutched in your hand, you turned, relieved to see your favourite customer. "Oh, hi..." His name didn't come to your lips and, in the pause, it vaguely occurred to you that you hadn't learned his name in the entire six months or so he and you had been chatting over the counter over Murakami or Mitchell. "You startled me," you said, clasping the book to your beating breast in a faux swoon, adding "Weird I didn't hear the bell on the shop door."

He took a step closer. For a moment it seemed he might take your hand and help you down. He didn't, retorting, "Ha, I noticed it didn't ring when I came in. Perhaps it has begun to be skeptical of its existence despite the empirical evidence of its tinkle."

You smiled at the quip despite your still-elevated heart rate.

You went to step down. He was standing close. Too close. You felt you couldn't quite step off the ladder and waited for him to move away. He gave one of his disarmingly charming smiles as he looked up towards you. He didn't move. Here in the back corner of the shop, hidden from the view from the street, a trickle of heat ran down the back of your spine in the odd atmosphere. "Anyway, you will excuse me, but I should get back to the front of the shop. I'm in sole charge on Tuesdays."

He smiled, "Yes, I know the shop schedule, Alice. Don't worry, I doubt anyone will disturb us. This is the quietest time of the week." The trickle amplified, the stream of heat running right up your spinal cord now. You felt the hair on the back of your head standing on end. Something was different about him today. Still several rungs up the ladder, you were very aware of the shortness -- and flimsiness -- of your dress with his face more or less level with your crotch. In spite of your discomfort, or perhaps because of it, the heat spread into a dull ache between your legs.

You attempted humour to defuse the tension. "I wouldn't want to miss a sudden deluge of paying customers," you said, taking one step down a rung. "Sarah would kill me if I missed a bunch of sales." The attempt fell flat in his fixed expression. His eyes remained steadfastly on yours and if he could be said to be smiling it wasn't at your pathetic joke.

"It's really all right, Alice." His tone was even and calm. Calculating. He looked down now and, shockingly, with his left hand he grasped your ankle as you took that tentative step, locking your shin bone against the ladder. "In fact, Sarah knows I'm here. She wants me to be here. Alone with Alice." You were too taken aback to react, preoccupied with the sudden pain in your skinned shin. In your precarious position on the ladder, you dropped the book and grabbed at the upper rung to gather your balance. Hegel hit each rung as the book dropped in the slow motion of your spinning mind in this bizarre situation. Even as you processed him talking about Sarah -- your mentor, your occasional lover -- his other hand was under your dress, crawling up your thighs and tugging at your panties, fingernails scratching your skin.

Your instinct was to fight, shouting "What the fuck!? Fucking...!!" You grabbed for his hair and pathetically slapped at his hand under your skirt but in one swift movement he pulled your foot off the rung and you clattered downwards. You would surely have fallen to the floor had he not pinned your body between his bulky chest and the hard wood of the rungs of the ladder. Dazed, you grunted before his hand was clamped over your mouth to stifle the scream caught in your throat. He waited, holding you still for one, two, three, four breaths.

His revolting weight held you fast, helplessly pinned. The sudden exertion made his breath heavy in your ear, even as you felt your own chest heaving painfully against one of the rungs. His voice was changed, a dark whisper: "You would be wise, Alice, to comply." Keeping one hand on your mouth, he removed the other slowly from holding you. In your stasis you felt his arm move to his hip, then being a slow path back up your body, an unnatural hardness digging into your back that finally revealed its malevolent cool steel against your skin as the blade cleared the neckline of your dress and pressed into the naked vulnerability of your neck.

Your mind shuffled through the disordered permutations of why he was doing this, why he mentioned Sarah. As instructed, you did not resist. His arms were strong, his body subsumed yours, but most of all something in his tone commanded complicity even more than the cold steel digging its edge into your skin.

He shifted his hips, grinding himself against you from behind. To your horror you felt the unmistakable swell of his cock in his pants pressing against the soft flesh of your ass through your summer dress. But perhaps even more horrific was the realisation of the gnawing heat in your pussy. You liked it.

[lovingherrscher]

Rebellion -  叛逆の物語

Warning: Contains spoilers of Madoka Magica the Movie: Rebellion, so read at your own risk!

Note: I was really lost that whether I should post this here or not, since this is a very, very old work of mine. I wrote this about 3 years ago I think? Well I did it anyway, please enjoy this! What was I thinking when I wrote this you may ask? I always wanted to make a scenario where I can take Dazai out and see my all-time favorite series, up till now it’s still got some pretty heavy impact on me, so I whipped this up randomly, I couldn’t recall how did I manage to go this far. Again, I’m sorry if there’s any grammar mistakes, or in some case did I make Dazai seems OOC. 

————————————

It's been a while since you two have a movie night, and since both of you got the day off tomorrow, Dazai decided that tonight will be movie night. He texted you to choose the movie on the way home and he'll prepare the popcorn and stuffs. It didn't take too long for you to answer, instead of popcorn, you told him to prepare some tissues and hot chocolate with marshmallows. Dazai was surprised, usually you'd be the one who ask for popcorn, but maybe you just want some change once in a while.

When you're back, everything is already set up. Dazai even place a few extra pillows around the sofa too, so you won't be sore even if you fell asleep. It's about 7pm, the perfect time to start. Yes, you two skipped dinner for movie night. You inserted the disk then went back to the sofa with Dazai.

Puella Magi Madoka Magica

"A magical girl anime? Now that's rare. Why did you choose this, (y/n)?"

"I just wanted to share some new things with you, Dazai. Is there anything wrong?"

"Nothing, let us get back to the movie, shall we?"

The first, then the second episode passed, everything seems normal, at least it was until the third episode. That part when Mami confessed that she wasn't all reliable and that she was only forcing herself to man up made you cry, even though it's the third or fourth time you seen it.

"I don't deserve anyone's admiration."

"I'm just forcing myself to man up."

Eventually, you two reached the eighth episode, where Sayaka lost herself and let the despair take her, so that she became a Witch. It took more than just a box of tissues and hot chocolate for you to calm.

"When wishing for someone's happiness, someone must be cursed in order to keep the balance."

"The balance between hope and despair remains at zero."

"That's how us Magical Girls work."

"I'm...such an idiot."

No matter how many times you seen this scene, it always manage to strike you right in the heart. You could say that you can understand the Holy Quintet's pain. To Mami, it was loneliness, to Sayaka, it was the feeling when you realized you've done everything for the man you love, but ended up didn't have the courage to tell him about how you feel, to Kyoko, it was the guilt when you did something you thought it'd be good but then fucked up. To Madoka, it was a bit lack of self-confident and sacrifice because of the wants to help everyone ends their suffering. Last, but not least, to Homura, it was the burning desire to protect the one you love, using every methods you have to, even if it was the cruelest thing you ever did.

Dazai stays silent as you two reached the next episode, when Kyoko took Madoka to fought against Oktavia, hoping they could get Sayaka back. There was that line Kyoko said, in the Witch's barrier that made Dazai remember his old days back in the Dark Era, when he was still a mafia executive.

"Only people who have been forced into a corner would do this kind of job that disregards their lives."

He, too, wasn't given a choice. Joining the Mafia was his only choice then. Mori took him under his wings and trained him to be an exact copy of him, so Dazai could one day took the position of being the Mafia Boss. He despise both that man, and himself, who would have become an another him if it wasn't for his friend's death.

Those who've been forced into a corner, huh? It's true that there are many people joined the Mafia almost being forced. For example, himself, Kyouka, Chuuya, and the Akutagawa siblings too. They do the kind of job that disregards their lives, knowing they could die any moment if their guard was left down. Well, again, if it wasn't for Odasaku's death, he wouldn't have left the Mafia and would probably be the Boss now.

"Hey Dazai? Are you alright? You have been staring into space for twenty minutes already.."

The sound of (y/n) calling for him pulled him back to the reality, where the movie was stopped and she was looking at him worried. Dazai just pat her head, saying that he's fine and reach for the remote to continue. It was getting late, but neither of you want to stop, so you wrapped the blanket around the both of you and leaned your head on his shoulder as you two continue watching Madoka.

"As long as you protect the one you want, to protect them to the very end is enough."

Why? They're just little girls, right? If that's the case why did they understand life that much as if they've been living for a really long time? Dazai didn't want to admit it, but he feels as if he is going to cry. Their words lingered in his head, reminding him of his past, those were the days that he wanted to forget for good. After Oda died, he went to Lupin almost everyday like a basis, drink until he's drop and then went back to his empty apartment, passed out on his bed before waking up middle of the night because of nightmares.

The tenth episode, which explain pretty much everything about Homura strikes both of them. That part when Homura fell into despair and began to imagine when she and Madoka became Witches, just right after when they battled Walpurgis Night.

"Hey.. How about the two of us become monsters like that, and ruin the entire world."

"Taking bad things, sad things, and wiping all of it clean."

"Destroy. Destroy. Destroy without end. Don't you think that's good too?"

She was desperate to the point that she had thought about becoming a Witch wouldn't be that bad. She can keep on destroying things, no matter it's good things, bad things, sad things, or happy things. Why did it have to become like this? They were so young and pure and filled with hope and dreams.. Just like him. At least before he tried committing suicide.

"I promise!"

"I'll definitely save you!"

"No matter how many times I go back! I'll always protect you!"

It risen a thought in his head, he wondered that if he was gifted with time-manipulation power, would he choosen the path like Homura did to save Odasaku? No matter how many times he have to go back, and probably see him die. Would he still be able to feel anything? Or would he became numb and eventually give in to the despair? No, the real question is, will he be strong enough to choose that path. Homura may looks fragile and weak, even a bit timid, but she was the strongest one. Normal people wouldn't be themselves after seeing their important person dies right in front of their eyes without being able to do anything once, left alone times after times.

"I don't want to be a Witch."

"Although I've seen terrible and bad things, there are still many things I want to protect in this world."

Strangely, this reminds him of his deceased friend. He was always the one looking on the bright side of the problem. Why did he have to die? He was in the Mafia, yet he refused to kill anyone. But everything changes when Mimic came. Because of them, Mori thought of a way to use him like a pawn to get the license, and ended up dragging the innocents in. He couldn't forget how he looks when the owner of the diner dies along with his adopted children. If it wasn't for him that founded out about Ango, then things probably wouldn't go this way, and Oda would still be alive by now.

"Madoka. If someone came to tempt you with miracles, never be manipulated by them!"

"There's no one to rely on anymore."

"There's no need for anyone to understand."

This.. Feels so familiar. He didn't need anyone to understand the circumstances he was going through. He can't rely on anyone as well. How can he possibly tell them? Would they understand anyway? So there's no need to do such a thing. It'll only be a waste of time.

"Return."

"No matter how many times, I will always choose to return. Repeating the same period of time over and over again, searching for the only exit. For you.. A path out of the destiny of despair."

Will there be a timeline, or a world out there where Oda is still alive, and was able to achieved his dream to become a writer and have his novel published? All of the sudden, he wanted to become a little girl and find that Incubator creature, so he can form a contract with him just to see his friend once again. To see him living the life he had always been wanting. A Mafia non-related life, staying in a house with his room that can see the sea clearly, even in days with bad weathers, writing novels, maybe having one or a few cats. But..

"Why does she fight and risk everything?"

"Because she's still pursuing hope."

"No matter how many times, she refuse to quit; therefore repeating this meaningless and endless cycle."

"To her, stopping is equivalent to giving up."

"As long as she believes there's still hope, she can't be saved?"

After the series ended, you two had a short break before continue with the third movie, Rebellion. You simply said that it was the best thing that ever happened in this entire series to Homura. Was that she finally reached Madoka and get to see her again? He can't know.

At the beginning, it makes Dazai wondered was this an alternative universe where they can all live happily. But things aren't that simple, when Homura's journey to find the truth begun. When she regained her memories about Witches, their barriers and her previous battle against them, even about Madoka becoming a God to save every magical girls and she, along with Tatsuya, are the only ones whose memories of Madoka remained.

Her battle with Mami reminds him of when Oda and Gide fought. No magic, no abilities, just pure skills and weapon. But in the end, Mami still have the upper hand. The way she used her ribbons to tie Homura reminds him of the third episode in the series, when she was about to go against Charlotte, Homura did offer to help her, since Mami was lack the experiences and aren't strong enough to deal with such a strong Witch. She ended up losing her head.

"Would you really be okay destroying this Mitakihara City? You should think hard on that before you decide. So you won't have any regrets."

That was what Sayaka asked her. Since she had became a Witch, she would know how it feels like when the despair swallow you whole, filled your veins and become the blood that flows inside your body. Regrets. Pain. Desperate. It feels like your body became the vessel for every single negative emotions out there.

"It really hurts me to see you suffering so much and being unable to do anything about it."

"You see, I had a really scary dream."

"In it, you had gone to a place so far away that I had no chance of seeing you again. And everyone else in the world forgot all about you. Only I could remember you in the whole wide world!"

"I was so lonely and sad. But no one could understand how I felt. Surrounded by that, I started thinking my memories of you were things I'd made up. And I began doubting myself."

It reminds him of when Oda died, almost no one remember or know who he is. To the outsiders, he's just an unknown man. To the members of the Mafia, he's just a low-level member that they don't need to care about. But to him, and maybe Ango too, he was a friend. An important friend who enlightened their paths and their souls. He was luckier, that he didn't doubt himself, because there was something that proves Oda really exist is always with him. The photo they took together for the last time in Lupin, just a day before the storm.

"But you see, I became a magical girl solely to save Madoka. And that holds truth until now."

"So this is a Witch. My emotions have all come back to haunt me."

"I can't remember anything but glimmers of light and regret."

"Ah.. So this is my despair."

He cried. Dazai cried for the first time watching it. He didn't notice tears were rolling down his cheeks until you pulled him in your arms, holding him tight, pecking his forehead and caress his cheeks in the gentlest way possible. You said that it's okay to cry and let it out like this. You wanted to show him this because Homura reminds you of him in many ways. He needn't to ask for the reason, since he had witnessed it already.

"Despite her appearance, she's the most hurt."

You told Dazai that, the first time you saw him, you didn't think he'd be broken this badly. The truth that everyone thinks that way. He seems to be a happy-go-lucky guy and knows how to irritated serious people, lazy and likes to play around. But inside, he suffered from many things. Ghosts of the past that reminds him of the days in the Mafia, his shadow which guilt-trip him over every single small things happened, his anxiety that caused him to fear for failure therefore he has to think of every single possible that can or may happen to deal with them. Yet people think he is the genius, back when he was in the Mafia, he was called "The Demon Prodigy" because all of his plans worked. But they know nothing about him and what he is suffering from.

"I have to die in this world."

Yes. He has to die. That's what he has been thinking ever since a long, long time before. He had countless suicide attempts, yet none of them succeed. They all failed. Why is that he can't die? Why is that the world is trying to prevent him from dying to atone for his sins?

"I had a sickening dream. A dream where you were dead."

"Because I actually do have one regret. The fact that I left you behind."

He cried again, did Odasaku has any regrets when he died? If he had, then what would it be? You turned to him, whispering that he wouldn't want you to die and his regrets probably was that he left him behind all alone back then.

"That's no good, Homura."

"I told you that you shouldn't go off by yourself."

"No matter what happens, you'll always be you, Homura. And I would never abandon you. So don't give up."

"I'm sorry.. I'm so spineless.. I wanted to see you one more time.. And if I had to go so far as to betray that wish.."

"That's right, I knew I could shoulder any sin. No matter what I became, I knew I'd be fine with it. As long as I could have you by my side."

This.. He only wanted to see his friend again.. But it's impossible. He almost screamed due to his emotional burst out.

"Why did such a good person have to die? Why didn't I the one who dies instead?"

You simply pat his head, pulling him closer and embraced him tightly.

"It's alright. I'll always be here for you. No matter what happens, you'll always be you, and I would never abandon you or stop loving you. I love you, Dazai. So please, don't let the ghosts from the past get to you.. No. I won't let them get to you. I swear that I, (y/n) will bring you happiness with my own hands! Even if I have to turn myself into a mere concept, I will still take all those despair from you, I will be your only God that brings happiness."

He was stunned. There hasn't been a single person who has said something like that to him. He was touched. Even though you two have been dating for quite a while already but he had never heard such a bold decision from you. Immediately, Dazai pulled you into a tight hug, his face buried in your neck.

"Thank you, (y/n).. I couldn't imagine how I'd become or what I'd become if you didn't come into my life. You don't have to go that far just to make me happy, all you have to do is stay by my side, that's more than enough already."

You kissed him before getting back on the ending of Rebellion. You knew what was coming, and you're sure Dazai would be surprise by it.

"It was not even curse that soiled my Soul Gem."

"It's the pinnacle of all human emotions. More passionate than hope, far deeper than despair. It's love."

"She was as sacred as a god, and I couldn't help but pull her from heaven and undermine her."

"A being that perform such threat could only be called a demon, I suppose?"

He smirked, paused the movie before turned to you, who was dumbfounded of what just happened.

"(Y/n), did you just say that you'll be my God?"

"Yes..? What's wrong with that, Dazai?"

"Oh, there is. Because I'm a demon that couldn't help but pull you down from heaven and make you mine, forever."

————————————

To be continued...?

[gingersnappe-9]

In a Crowd of Thousands: Across Time and Space (3)

Din Djarin/Mando X Fem!OC ; Star Wars/The Mandalorian Universe

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Note: chapter image created by yours truly!

The halls of the Imperial cruiser were quiet. The sound of electricity bounced off the glossy surfaces. Only one person remained to occupy this particular area of the ship. Anyone with half a brain knew not to go near while he was performing his tests. Experiments. Sorcery some called it.

Moff Gideon knew better.

Gideon made sure to be completely alone during his sessions. His private quarters were tucked away in a seclusive area of the ship. Double sealing doors as an added precaution. He walked towards a locked box, opened it with the retinal scanner and peered down at the weapon held safely in its keep. The dark saber it was called. Once the weapon of a Jedi, the famed Mandalore, then some Mandalorian girl named Bo Katan -- she claimed to be the rightful ruler of her creed’s desolate planet. She was sorely mistaken -- and now Gideon himself. It held more power than any of the feeble minded fools on the cruiser could possibly fathom.

Gideon was no fool. He had studied its history, read any and all texts he could get his hands on in his pursuit to unravel its secrets. The old Jedi teachings had turned into nothing more than myth, and it was better that way. The Jedi stood in the way of progress. Subjugation, absolute rule, that was how the galaxy was meant to be. It was simpler. Less messy, so long as everyone stayed in line. And with the Jedi gone, the Rebellion grasping at straws, it was even easier to expand the banner of the great and glorious Empire. Now was the time to reap the rewards of his tireless efforts.

He held it up to the light for observation. The hilt seemed to thrum with life even before he ignited the blade. Matte black metal. Stern lines. Sharp corners. Hard and cold like a dark stone the ocean beats against. At the blade's ignition, Gideon felt a surge of energy run through his fingertips then throughout the expanse of his entire body. The power was unlike anything Gideon had ever experienced before. It was energy. It was power. Pure, raw, uninhibited power.

He gingerly waved it about. A deep sound reverberated through the air as the saber passed each air molecule. The light emanating off the blade seemed to flicker and gleam like that of a distant star in the black ink of space.

With a sudden outburst of violence, Gideon slashed an entire control panel in half with a single swing. The saber cut through with ease, searing and melting anything and everything it came in contact with. He was immensely pleased. What he’d heard and read about this weapon was true. But the real test had yet to begin. In his efforts to wield the dark saber effectively, he also did his due research on the more mystical qualities.

The Jedi did not share the more intimate secrets of their teachings to those outside their circles. That knowledge was difficult to come by. But Gideon had his ways. He managed to acquire an extremely old, and rare text that detailed the history and origins of the blade. Its innate connection with something known as the force -- the undercurrent of every living and non-living thing in the galaxy. An interconnecting thread to everything, and everyone.

From what Gideon understood, the blade allowed its wielder to tap into this current and perform feats that could defy the laws of the natural world. It was a power that made the user valuable, and dangerous -- hence the slaughter of the Jedi after Order 66, and subsequent hunt for any and all who showed any connection to the force at all -- and Gideon wanted more than anything to tap into this current.

Gideon had one more goal besides acquiring a working knowledge of wielding the force. He wanted to find a child. The child. The one that had evaded him all this time. He was the key to everything.

He held the saber in both hands, closed his eyes, and reached out. Into what, he did not know. But Gideon allowed the dark weapon in his hands to pull his subconscious forward.

It started out as something small. Like a tiny flame that began to flicker down a wick until it became a raging and thunderous wildfire. He could feel more than he ever knew to be possible. The energy coursing through the ship’s electrical circuits; the blood pumping through the veins of every living soul on board; the synapses firing off in his own brain. It was astounding. He reached further. The heat emanating off of a nearby sun. The cold clutches of the vacuum. The craggy surfaces of asteroids clustered together in enormous belts. Life. Death. Order and chaos. Time and space itself.

Gideon let his mind explore this new frontier until he felt a different sensation. Another being inhabiting the same subconscious space. He pressed forward.

In his attempts, Gideon felt resistance. Either this being was aware of his presence and intentionally kept him at bay, or they had natural barriers protecting their own subconscious. He had his suspicions as to who it could be, but without the ability to probe further, his best guess would have to do.

Gideon’s frustrations began to grow at his lack of progress towards this presence, when closeby, he sensed another. Equally as strong, but completely unguarded.

Gideon’s eyes darted back and forth beneath his eyelids as he leaned into this new presence. The closer his subconscious got, the more a figure appeared in his mind. Young. A strong mind and body. Deep sadness and despair buried far below the surface. Gideon could tell even in his limited capacity that this individual was not entirely aware of their own grief. Something about this plane of consciousness told him so. He probed closer. He was beginning to develop a mental image of their physical state. A steady heartbeat, dexterous fingers toiled with something small and pliable. She was incredibly focused. Her mind was steady and clear as she worked. The attention to detail was admirable. The wires were expertly woven together and soldered neatly. A man -- whose presence was nothing more than a fog -- commended her for her work.

A Mandalorian. Two Mandalorians and…. No, it couldn’t be… It couldn’t be that easy… Oh. But it is.

Her hands paused. The clearest image of the girl he’d seen yet came into focus. Brown hair. Dark eyes. Hauntingly familiar eyes. She looked right at him.

Gideon was suddenly and viciously sent careening back into his own body. The blade retracted into the hilt as it clattered to the floor. His body had broken out into a cold sweat. It felt as though the air had been stolen from his lungs as Gideon hunched over the floor bracing himself on his hands and knees.

The silence continued with only the soft thrum of the ship's electrical systems. Then laughter. Twisted and sickening laughter clattered off the walls. Gideon couldn’t help but laugh. Just from this one attempt, he was closer than ever to not only unlocking the ancient secrets the Jedi had hoarded all these centuries, but to something else just as interesting and mysterious.

His voice sounded off the walls with no one else but himself to hear. “I found you.”

Mando had mentioned something about the wiring for the engine couplers wasn’t that great. Ava gladly volunteered to take a look and do some cleaning up in the electrical panels. She was happy to have something familiar to do.

They’d been underway for two days now and Ava was glad to have something to occupy her hands with. It was a strange feeling, sitting idly by. She was so used to getting up and filling her time with gears and cogs that needed oiling, welding manifolds back together, or rewiring entire motherboards. But on the Crest, there was only so much Ava could accomplish. There was only so much space to move around as well.

She would spend the better part of her time aboard the vessel studying the paneling, the score marks, dents, and or scratches beaten into the hull. The few bits of evidence to suggest anyone even lived aboard the flying tin can. Ava had taken a turn about the cargo hold so many times she could probably recreate it without having to open her eyes. She could walk across the floor blindfolded and navigate the entire space through touch and counting alone. She knew the exact number of steps it took to walk from one end to the other. Knew the dimensions of the small hull as well as she knew the back of her own hands. It was as if she could sense the entire space around her, a skill she developed early on and found rather useful.

Once Mando saw the quality of her work on the major problems that plagued his ship before Tatooine, he seemed to more readily accept her help even in-flight. Hence, why she was fixing up the extremely shotty work on the engine couplers. The soldering looked as though it was done by a drunkard. The wires were frayed in places the wax coating had been eaten away. There was even a stray... fossil? Something Ava couldn’t identify but was white like bone that smelled vaguely, salty? It was a mess. The more of the Crest’s internal mechanisms she was exposed to, the more she wondered how it even managed liftoff, let alone sustained hyper-flight. Nonetheless, Ava was more than confident she could fix just about anything aboard the vintage hunk of junk.

Her fingers were deft at rearranging the fixtures to their proper position. It was second nature for her to maneuver a welding torch in tight, confined spaces. She had the burn scars to prove it. Ava fell back into a quiet rhythm of stripping the wax coat off the end of some wire, finding its rightful place, then rewiring.The instruments seemed to float into her hand the exact moment she needed them. It felt good to use her hands again. It was familiar. Comforting. What was a new sensation was having a tiny pair of eyes staring up at her.

Every so often, Ava would look down at a small crate that held spare tools and see the child gazing up at her. She couldn’t help but smile. She would talk to him about her work, going over even the most obscure and minute details. Ava explained the rationale behind attaching one wire to one port, but not the other; why certain wires should never cross, or the reason she used one weld pattern over another.

The child didn’t respond using any Basic words, a coo or gurgle every now and again, but for some reason, Ava knew he could understand her. The child was rather smart. Mischievous. She’d seen him sneak more than his fair share of snacks right from under Mando’s nose. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but there was something centering about his presence, it was rather comical given how small he was. It was as though everything was clearer, easier, her timing and flow were the most efficient they’d ever been; and all thanks to nothing more than the little one’s company.

After a brief comment on her welding and rewiring, Boba made his way up to the cockpit and Ava was left below with the child. She continued to tinker with the wiring just beyond the open wall panel when something new came over her. It felt as though a window had been opened and a fresh breeze blew around her.

Everything seemed to thrum with life. It was as if she could feel the electrical surges coursing through the ship’s systems. Her heartbeat sounded like drums in her own ears. Ava was suddenly very aware of the tiny child sitting next to her with his wide eyes and curious expression.

She looked at him for a moment, pausing her work. A shiver ran down her spine. The sensation quickly turned cold. Something extremely new for her. All her life, Ava had been wrapped by the relentless heat of Tatooine. She never could have imagined how cold space was. Her hands always felt a bit stiff now before she got into the rhythm of work. But this was something different entirely.

This was a malicious feeling. It crept in like sand mites that furrowed and bore their way into the skin. It lingered in her lungs and her head began to hurt. She worried for a moment that she might’ve caught something, maybe a bug or illness from Mando or Boba. She’d never been in close quarters like this with anyone. Not even Peli’s small hut was this stuffy and confined. Ava was sure she had checked the air filtration systems before they took off. Whatever this was just didn’t sit well with her, and it apparently didn’t sit well with the baby either.

Ava looked down at the little green child when she heard him whine. It sounded more like concern than anything else. Even his little ears were droopy and his gaze fixated on Ava.

“Do you feel it too?” Her voice was quiet as she spoke to him. Trying to make sense of the strangeness of it all.

Suddenly, Ava felt a pair of eyes on her. Not the baby’s. The Mandalorians were in the cockpit. There was no other soul aboard the ship and yet, Ava knew something, or rather, someone was watching her.

It felt as if her veins were filled with something frigid. Her body became impossible still. Her gut was telling her – screaming at her – that something was very, very wrong.

Turn around.

Turn around?

Now!

No sooner than she did, there stood a man behind her. A stern face and severe eyes. He wore all black and held a glowing sword in both hands. The moment their eyes met, it felt as though Ava was hit by a wall. Whatever had been opened slammed shut, knocking all of the air from her lungs.

Ava fell to the ground and the tools in her hands clattered against the metal floor. She struggled to pull air into her chest as her heart hammered in her ears.

Boba’s voice rang out from the upper part of the ship, “Everything alright down there, Sweetheart?” It startled Ava.

“Y-yeah. I just… got distracted.”

The baby cooed at her, as if he was trying to see if she was okay.

“I’m alright, Little Guy. Don’t worry about me.” Her voice shook terribly as she tried to fein an assuring tone. He looked at Ava in such a way she could tell he didn’t believe her.

The invasive feeling lingered in her skin. Like someone was somehow inside the very space she occupied. It was extremely unnerving. Whether out of curiosity or fear the man would still be there, Ava slowly glanced over her shoulder. There was nothing behind her but the door of the hull’s main ramp. There had never been anyone else on the ship by the four of them.

Ava tried to settle herself. She reached for the child, whose arms were outstretched for her, and brought him to her chest. Holding the little one was one of the few things that brought her comfort on this flying tin can. But she couldn’t quite shake the feeling of those eyes watching her. Peering into her.

And somewhere in the back of her mind, Ava could’ve sworn she heard a foreign voice whispering I found you.

The room was full of laughter. Rays of color danced across the room as the setting sun shone through the delicate stained glass windows. Gorgeous, heavy cloth tapestries hung from the impossibly high ceilings. Everyone wore flowing gowns and dashing capes that spun and twirled over the polished floor.

Ava was wearing a gorgeous and well-suited gown of a deep teal. It matched the washes of blue that were everywhere. Atop her head she wore a beautiful golden tiara with thin prongs that extended out like rays of sunshine. She was being twirled around by a graceful partner. He led her through the dance as the music echoed through the grand hall.

Trumpets sounded and everyone ceased dancing and looked to the grand staircase of the hall.

At the very top stood a striking couple. A distinguished looking gentleman who wore a floor-length, velvet blue cape that draped over his shoulder; to his right, a gorgeous woman with her hair twisted up in a series of cloth entwined braids with a warm disposition. They both looked down at her with warm smiles. There seemed to be a sort of glow around the pair. They were radiant in every sense of the word.

Joy filled Ava’s chest as she smiled back. She watched the man -- who was of some significance since everyone he passed bowed -- walk down the staircase. Once he had descended, he made his way over to meet Ava in the middle of the ballroom.

Soft music began to play once more. He took her hands in his and began to swing her into a waltz. The two practically floated across the floor and for the first time Ava felt like she was in the right place at the right time. The room watched with soft gazes and tender affection. As the song dwindled to a stop, the two paused and held each other's hands.

The more Ava looked at him, the more she felt like she knew him from somewhere. Perhaps a far off dream? When he leaned in and gently placed a kiss on her forehead, Ava closed her eyes.

Somewhere far away, Ava could hear someone calling out a name.

“A-”

She opened her eyes to the man standing in front of her mouthing something she couldn’t hear.

“What?” Ava asked.

His face was kind and sympathetic. Then out of nowhere, she heard…

~~~

“Wake up.” The voice was gruff and to the point.

Ava jolted up in a fright. Someone was standing in the doorway of the sleeping quarters. On instinct, she kicked as hard as she could, hitting whoever it was with directly in the hip. They groaned in pain and toppled over. Ava realized where she was.

She was sleeping in the little cot tucked into the wall of the Razor Crest. The child was sitting next to her chest staring at her with those big eyes. She looked at the child for a moment. The music still echoed in her mind, her hands seemed warm. The place where the man had kissed Ava’s forehead still felt the soft press of his lips. The dream still felt so real that something in the back of her mind couldn’t help but wonder if the baby had something to do with it. Perhaps it was the way he looked at her, the tender touch of his tiny hand on top of hers in an endearing manner. Or maybe it was just her grasping at any sort of explanation for the hyperrealism of her subconscious mind.

Hearing whomever she kicked grunt a bit in pain, Ava scooted to the end of the crawlspace. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to. I just-” She stopped when a silver beskar helmet came up to meet her eye. “Oh, it’s just you. I guess it’s okay.”

Mando didn’t sound too pleased by Ava’s answer. “Get up, you’ve been asleep for way too long.” He sounded like he was clenching his jaw as he spoke and walked away to inspect something at the other end of the ship. From behind the corner, Ava could hear a chuckle. When she popped her head out, it was Boba poorly trying to conceal his enjoyment.

“I told him to be nicer. Guess he learned his lesson hasn’t he, Princess?” He offered Ava his hand and helped her shimmy out of the crawlspace.

“Have I really been out that long?”

Boba just gave her a quick smirk then explained, “It can happen sometimes if you’re not used to space travel. The artificial gravity, the speed, and pressure differentials can cause people to get drowsy. It usually wears off after a small while.”

Unsure of whether that made her feel better, Ava decided to see it as a positive. Behind her, the baby made a soft gurgling noise the way children do. She turned back and scooped the little creature into her arms. The two smiled at one another, Ava always felt calmer, centered even, when she was near or holding the child. Maybe that’s why she slept as well as she did, he had been laying with her. But he wasn’t there when she had gone to sleep. How did the little critter manage to climb up the foot and a half difference between the floor and the door opening? A better question: how did he hit the button to open the door?

So lost in thought, Ava almost didn’t hear Boba say, “Are you ready to begin?”

Puzzled, she answered him back with, “Ready for what?”

The older Mandalorian chuckled, “To become Princess Aurelia of course.”

Oh right. Princess lessons. On the night they propositioned Ava, they mentioned having to teach her the proper etiquette and mannerisms expected of a wouldbe Grand Duchess. If she was being honest with herself, Ava wasn’t looking forward to it. She didn’t exactly have the most ladylike upbringing and was starting to doubt how well she would fare. Ava grew up amongst the galaxy’s castaways and ruffians, Peli wasn’t exactly Miss Prim and Proper, so naturally neither was Ava. She didn’t know the first thing about princess-ing. Stars, Ava never ate a meal that wasn’t re-hydrated or stale in her life. Now she was supposed to learn an entire lifetime of skills in a matter of days, a couple weeks if she was lucky.

Seeing the flashes of doubt across her face, Boba placed a calming hand on her shoulder. “Relax, my dear. You’re in good hands. We won’t lead you astray.”

Mando huffed.

Boba was none too pleased at the gesture from his partner. “At least, I can assure you I will put forward my best efforts. I can only ask that you reciprocate.”

Taking one more look at the baby in her arms she felt a flash of courage. Ava placed him on the edge of the cot. When she turned back, both Mandalorians were looking at her. If I could learn to hotwire a speeder bike before I hit puberty, this should be a sinche, right?

Taking in a deep breath, Ava spoke clearly with confidence, and just a hint of her usual sass when she said, “Gentlemen, start your teaching.”

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COT Taglist: @luxmundee @phandoz @deepknightclod @niall7inches @the-socially-awkward-dragon @ahtanosoka@paledonutpastakid @myguiltypleasures21 @lekkus@littlemissoblivious @grogusyogurt @lokis-army-77 @kitttypalace @annoyinglythoughtfuldestiny @hell-al

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[lavenderwhore444]

I’ve been thinking about this all day, so imagine this with me shigaraki is dressed in a long sleeve short wearing some lacy panties ( it can be any color u want) holding one of his stuffed animals u got him while ur fucking his cute ass ( btw i mean pegging him lmaooo) while he’s whining and moaning telling his mommy to slow down

Thank you for coming to my Ted talk ✋😃

-🤡

Bunny

OMG 200 FOLLOWERS WTF I LOVE ALL OF UUUU ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

I'm so obsessed with this. Fluffy tooth-rotting sub shigaraki smut is my weakness. It's my favorite thing.

If you want to use interactive fics, it's easy and makes reading fics SO much better. First, you download the Google Chrome extension. You'll see it in the top right corner of your screen. Next, you enter your name in the first box. If you want to change something other than y/n, please click on the text that says “want to change something other than y/n?” here, you can change any word you want to a different word. When I talk about your quirk I will use y/q

InteractiveFics

Master List

Warnings: overstimulation kind of? Like overstimulation without the orgasm? Praise kink, slight degradation, reading this will give you a cavity. It's so fucking sweet. Call your dentist before you read this.

Earlier that day, you had found Shigaraki jerking off with your baby blue lacy panties, and as punishment, he had to wear the panties he’d made a mess in all day. In an act of rebellion, he had decided to put on one of your oversized hoodies and forget pants altogether. The sight of him playing his game in a big sweater with his soft cock in your panties made you go wild. When he begged, “mommy, come cuddle with me. I'm cold, ” you lost it and practically pounced on him.

You gave him wet, sloppy kisses and tangled your fingers in his hair, spit smearing all over your faces. Eventually, he ended up lying on his back on the bed. You drooled over the sight of him. His hair was messy from making out, and his lips were wet and puffy. His cheeks were pink to match the head of his semi-hard cock peeking out of the top of your panties. He had his hands covered by your sweater and put them in front of his face, hiding his blush.

“Mommy, am I in trouble?” he whispered, looking up at you, “was I a bad boy?”

“No, sweetie, you're not in trouble. Mommy just thinks you look so pretty in her panties that I couldn't resist having my way with you. And you look so cute in my sweater, Tomu, ” you praised him.

He smiled and hid his face in his hands once again.

“So am I a good boy?” He asked, wanting you to praise him.

“Yes, you are, ” you said, “you're such a good boy Shiggy. Mommy loves you so much, ”

“I love you too, mommy, ” he said, pulling you down into an eager hug.

You chuckled and kissed his cheek.

“Tomu, can mommy use her toy on you? Can I make my special boy feel good?” You asked.

He nodded, “want mommy to make me feel good with her toy. Pretty please?”

You grabbed the lube and toy off the bedside table. Tomura bit his lip in excitement, but it seems he forgot that this was still a punishment. You didn't want to remind him verbally, not when he was smiling up at you like that. You'd have to show him.

“Do you remember your safe word, Tomura?” you asked

He pouted when you didn't use a nickname or pet name, but he knew it’s because this was serious. That mommy needed to make him feel safe.

He nodded, “it's evergreen, right, mommy?”

“Good job, ” you praised, “and you promise that if something is wrong, you’ll use it?”

“I promise, ” he said, squirming in anticipation.

“Is there anything new you want to set as a hard limit?” You asked.

“No, ” he said, shaking his head, “I told mommy everything, I promise, ”

“Ok baby, are you ready?” You asked, pressing a lube-covered finger against his asshole.

“Yes, mommy!” He said happily.

You pressed a finger into his well-trained asshole, and he immediately started begging for another.

“More please, mommy. Another finger, pretty please?” he begged.

“Ok, sweetie, ” you cooed, letting him make the most of his time pre-punishment.

He was grinding while you curled your fingers.

“Mommy, ” he said, interrupted by a soft moan, “right there, please, mommy, ”

“Ok, sweetie, ” you said, kissing his forehead.

“Mommy, ‘m ready for your cock, ” he said, “please lemme have your cock, ”

He looked up at you with adoring half-lidded eyes.

“Alright, sweetie, ass up for me, ” you said.

Tomura blushed and assumed the lewd position, wiggling his butt in the air. You giggled and pressed a kiss to his hole.

“That's my good boy, ” you whispered.

You lined yourself up and pushed in slowly, lulling him into a false sense of security. Did he really believe he deserved a reward like this after you caught him a). Touching himself, and b). Making a mess? Surely he was smarter than that. You started at a slow pace, letting him mewl and grind against you. He loved when you were gentle with him. He loved when mommy took good care of her special boy. He was your special boy, and knowing that made both his heart and cock throb.

He was a little upset when you sped up, longing for those slow sweet thrusts. You watched him open his mouth to beg and increased your speed tenfold.

“Mommy!” He cried.

“Shhh honey, I know, ” you said, rubbing his back while you pounded into him.

“M-mommy no too much, ” he whimpered, “please be gentle, mommy, ”

“Nuh-uh, you were naughty today Tomu, naughty boys deserve punishments, ” you scolded.

“Mommy, I'm sorry, ” he cried, “I'm not a naughty boy, I promise Mommy, I promise, ”

“You're a good boy?” You asked.

He nodded, “I'm a good boy. I'm mommy’s good boy, remember? I'm your good boy, ” he managed to choke out.

“Good boys take mommy’s cock, ” you said, “good boys, let mommy fuck their ass however she pleases, ”

He moaned, starting to cry from how fast and rough you were being.

“Mommy, please, ” he whispered.

You reached over and handed him his stuffed bunny.

“Hug your stuffie, baby, ” you said, “hug bunny and take my cock, ok?”

He cuddled the bunny close. Hands closed into fists despite his artist's gloves. He didn't want to take any chances with his sweet bunny. You had got bunny for Tomura’s birthday, and if he ever lost her, he’d be miserable. She was one of his most prized possessions, you always sprayed her with your perfume, and she comforted him when you were gone.

“Mommy, slow down, ” he begged, still holding bunny close, “please, I'm a good boy, mommy, b-but I can't take it!”

“No?” you teased, “you can't take mommy’s cock?”

“Cant take mommy’s cock, ” he said, “can’t take mommy’s cock, ”

You pulled his hair and spanked him, causing him to cry out.

“No more, mommy, please, ” he begged as tears streamed down his now red face.

“Cum for me, and I’ll stop, Tomu, ” you promised.

“H-help please, mommy?” He whispered.

“You want mommy to help you cum? I know just what you want. You want mommy to talk dirty to you, don't you? You want mommy to whisper filth in your ear so your dirty little mind can imagine it?” you teased.

“Yes, ” he croaked, “n-need, ”

“You're clenching so hard around mommy’s toy, sweetheart. I think you like it when mommy’s a little rough with you. I think you're a good little cock slut. Mommy’s good cock slut. When you cum on mommy’s panties, you're gonna have to keep wearing them, Tomu. You're gonna wear mommy’s panties all sticky with your cum, ” you said, leaning in close to his ear.

He groaned. It was incredible what just this could do to him. He was right on the edge. You could tell by the way he was panting with his mouth wide open, eyes rolling back, and how he was humping your panties.

“Cum, mommy, ” he whispered, “I'm gonna cum, mommy, ”

“Good boy, ” you said, rubbing his back.

It was impressive that you were able to keep up this brutal pace, but hard work and determination pay off. Tomura tensed and let out a strangled moan before falling face-first onto the pillow. Hot cum soaked your panties and made them sticky. You were excited to have him wear them for the next day or so. You turned his head so he wouldn't suffocate and brushed some hair out of his face.

You pulled out of him and turned him on his back. He was utterly fucked out and barely conscious, but he still managed to give you a weak smile.

“I almost forgot, sweetie,” you said, riffling through a bag, “I got you a present, ”

He smiled wider, “mommy got me a present?”

You nodded, “my baby took me so well today. You deserve it, ”

You handed him a box, and he opened it. When he first looked at it, he was confused. Why did you give him a tiny sweater? Eventually, he put two and two together and gave you an adoring look.

“You got a sweater for bunny, ” he said, words slurring a little.

“Mhm, ” you said, putting it on her.

He nuzzled his face into her and smiled. You laid down next to him, turning him, so he and bunny were curled into your chest.

“Thank you, mommy, ” he whispered.

You kissed the top of his head, “you're very welcome, ”

[mrsalwayswrite]

Singing in the Shower (Ragnarssons x Reader)

This is just a silly little one-shot that came to mind that I could not stop thinking about. It got a bit deeper than I planned but oops?

Also my first time writing a Ragnarssons x reader! Please let me know if I did all the brothers justice. Except Bjorn isn’t in here. So its just the sons of Aslaug. Sorry, Bjorn.  

Warnings: some brief mentions of abusive/unhealthy past relationships, reader has some insecurities, the brothers being the best roomies ever but also creepers, like one or two swear words, FLUFFY GOODNESS!!! 

Words: 3700

Tag List: @youbloodymadgenius​

 (picture is from Pinterest. Not mine.)

The sound of laughter echoed around you even before leaving your bedroom. It was a Sunday night so that meant the Lothbrok brothers were all over. A tradition Ubbe started some months ago to make sure the four brothers stayed connected in each other's lives. Every Sunday evening, all of them would congregate in the three bedroom flat you shared with Ubbe and Hvitserk. They would order a stack of pizzas and enough beer to put a pub crawl to shame, and watch movies or play video games until the early morning hours. Only twice had fist fights broken out between Sigurd and Ivar with just a table and a lamp damaged in the process, so Ubbe called it a win. 

 It had only been about a year that you lived with Ubbe and Hvitserk. Sigurd chose to move in with a couple members of the band he played in. Aslaug vehemently refused to let Ivar move out due to his many medical needs that she claimed he could only receive proper attention for at home. In equal parts rebellion and to escape his mother’s suffocating attention, Ivar spent the majority of his free time and nights crashing on the couch at your shared flat. 

 At first, you were hesitant about living with the two brothers, having only known them through friends, but you decided to give it a chance. Within a couple of months, you found the strange dynamics of your shared space and your vastly different relationships with each of the brothers to feel eerily familiar….like being home. 

 Standing at your door, you listened to the brothers for a few moments, smiling broadly as you heard Hvitserk taunting Sigurd about how he was going to beat his ass if he threw another blue shell at him. Meanwhile Ivar was yelling something about the undeniable magic of Yoshi and his winning streak. They must be playing Mario Kart again. 

 It was nice to hear them all getting along. Normally Sunday nights you hung out with your boyfriend to give the brothers privacy, even though all of them repeatedly told you it was unnecessary. That was until last week. You had taken a selfie on your boyfriend's phone and went to set it as his background to surprise him….and found nude pictures of other girls and the dick pics he sent them back. Before you stormed out of his flat, you may have thrown his phone against the wall, pleased when the screen shattered just like your trust. Then you came home and cried to Hvitserk about how you were swearing off men and just wanted to be a spinster for the rest of your life. 

 Word must have spread between the brothers. For the rest of the week, they all offered their support in various ways. Sigurd texted you a few times to check on you and remind you that clearly you were better off without your ex. Ubbe gave you long hugs as if trying to soak the pain out of you, and made sure you were eating and getting out of bed. Hvitserk surprised you with a new sugary treat every day ranging from Oreos to ice cream to chocolate muffins; then you two would cuddle on the couch indulging yourselves while watching movies. Ivar threatened to beat up your now ex-boyfriend for making you cry and take pictures to send to those girls your ex had been texting. You made sure to shut Ivar's idea down quickly but pressed a quick kiss to his cheek and thanked him for offering. You hated your ex, that did not mean you wanted him dead. 

 You pushed away from your door and down the hallway. Popping your head around the corner, you saw the brothers in various positions in the living room, eyes all glued to the TV and the race happening on-screen. 

 "I'm gonna shower." You announced, receiving grunts of affirmations as they were too focused to fully acknowledge you. Smiling at their antics, you headed into the bathroom, shutting the door and starting the shower up. Once the water was at the perfect temperature, you stripped and jumped in. Of course, once the mixture of hot water and steam helped you relax, you started singing to yourself, letting the worries of the day fade away for just a moment as the words flowed from your lips and echoed off the shower stall walls like your own little stage. 

 Unbeknownst to you, as soon as the bathroom door shut and the sound of water running could be heard, the volume on the TV was muted. 

 Ivar, surprisingly, was the first one to overhear your singing. He had come over to crash for a few hours after his latest doctor appointment and to work on an assignment for a University class. The bathroom door somehow had not fully latched when you closed it, cracking open while you were in the shower….and you started singing. Ivar sat stunned on the couch at the voice slipping out of the bathroom like a siren's song. He remained there, transfixed as you sang some song he had never heard but he could feel in his chest. Once you stopped singing and the shower turned off, he quickly jumped up and hobbled over to silently shut the door, slightly embarrassed by the idea of you catching him listening in to your shower singing. 

 Later that day after you headed out to work, Ivar asked Ubbe and Hvitserk if they had heard you sing yet. Both of them denied ever hearing you sing. When asked if he knew anything, Sigurd was upset, having asked you on multiple nights to go to a karaoke bar with him and some friends. You always refused by saying you sounded Iike a beached whale. 

 Ubbe was next to overhear. He was walking by the bathroom on the way to the kitchen when he heard your voice drifting from underneath the bathroom door. Feeling like a creeper but curiosity winning out, he pressed his ear to the bathroom door to listen better. To say he had been shocked was an understatement. Sure, he had heard Ivar praise your voice, but he figured his youngest brother was exaggerating. It made him wonder why you never sang in front of others. 

 A silent pact was made between the brothers that they would never share the information of your singing with anyone outside the four of them….and whenever you jumped in the shower, whoever was the closest would go and crack the bathroom door open so they could hear you better. 

 This time was no different. 

 Sigurd was closest, so after Ubbe paused the game, he jumped up and silently cracked open the door so your beautiful voice could flow out. The game picked back up but remained on mute so they could hear you. The first song you serenaded them with was Walk Me Home by Pink. Apparently, one of your new favorites since you sang it so often. Next was Someone Like You by Adele. By the third song, the brothers had abandoned the game and were solely focused on you and the raw emotion bleeding from your voice. This time you started to sing Someone You Loved by Lewis Capaldi.  

 Ubbe spoke up, keeping his voice quiet just in case you could hear them, however unlikely. "Has she said anything about her ex lately?"

 "Not to me." Hvitserk answered first. "I thought she was doing fine."

 "Just because she's not crying all the time doesn't mean she's fine." Ivar retorted harshly, never removing his eyes from the direction of the bathroom. After a moment, he got up and hobbled towards the bathroom. 

 "Ivar…. Ivar, what are you doing?" Ubbe hissed but was ignored. 

 As quiet as possible, Ivar walked into the bathroom and sat on the toilet lid; your singing managed to cover the sounds of his movement. As he rolled his head to the side, it was to find his brothers had followed him with varying expressions ranging from concern to amusement. 

 Normally you did not spend so long in the shower but today you decided to spoil yourself. You had been doing well all week but this morning you were scrolling through your Instagram and happened to stumble upon a picture of your ex with a new girl, smiling happily and kissing at a restaurant…. the day after you broke up. And seeing them together felt like it ripped a tear into the slowly healing pieces of your heart. 

 Instead of going out like you planned to do, you laid in bed all-day binge-watching movies and feeling like an idiot. So in the shower you took extra time pampering yourself, using a deep conditioner in your hair, shaving everywhere and just letting the hot water cascade down your skin and loosen the tense muscles. 

 At this point you were feeling a little better and decided it was best not to waste any more water. You turned the water off, running your hands down your body to get as much excess water off, before you reached for your towel. Grabbing the plush towel hanging on the rack, you quickly dried your hair and wrapped the towel around your body before pulling the curtain back….

 Only to shriek as you realized you were not alone in the bathroom. 

 "What? What are you guys doing?" You demanded, eyes frantically darting between the four brothers.

 Ivar sat on the toilet lid; head tilted as he watched you with a peculiar expression on his face. Hvitserk leaned against the sink, eyes darting from your towel-clad body to the floor then back up. Ubbe and Sigurd stood in the doorway, both looking the least comfortable but still not moving. 

 "We, ah, we were…. well, we are concerned for you." Ubbe said, rubbing the back of his neck. 

 "Concerned?" You asked incredulously. 

 Ivar ignored your question. "Is this about your ex? Want me to pay him a visit?"

 "What are you talking about?"

 "Your singing. They were sad songs." Sigurd answered, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed. 

 Heat flooded your face. You dropped your head, staring at the bathroom floor as you clutched the towel closer to your body. Honestly, the idea of them hearing your singing was far more humiliating than them seeing you naked at this point. "You…. you heard me…. singing?"

 "Y/n, are you OK? You know you can tell us anything." Hvitserk said, trying to meet your eye. 

 "Um, can…. can we talk about this when…. when I'm not naked?" 

 "Of course. Come on, brothers." Ubbe quickly agreed, tapping the door as if to signal. He and Sigurd walked away first. Only when you finally met Hvitserk's eye did he push off the sink and head out but not before giving you a flirty wink. 

 "Ivar…."

 He slouched back, folding his hands behind his head. "I'm quite comfortable here."

 "Oh gods, please, Ivar." You begged, almost on the verge of tears. 

 He stared at you a long moment before pushing himself to his feet. "Don't think you're getting out of this."

 "Ok."

 Appeased, he made his way out of the bathroom, closing the door behind him. 

 Once alone, you stepped out of the shower only to drop onto the toilet lid and place your head in your hands. Your chest heaved and your eyes stung as you fought back the tears that threatened to fall. Today was bad enough and now this. It had to be something out of a nightmare. Your own personal hell. 

 When you finally composed yourself, you quickly changed into your comfiest sweats and tank top. You wished you could make a run for your room, anything to avoid the impending conversation but you knew the brothers would follow, they were all stubborn and persistent when they wanted to be. 

 With a deep breath, you stepped out of the bathroom and towards the living room. What hushed disagreement the brothers were clearly having abruptly ended when they noticed you. Awkwardly you remained standing, unsure where to sit. The only open spots were on the couch between Hvitserk and Ivar or one of the recliners as Ubbe sat in the other one. Sigurd reclined on the rocker gaming chair on the floor. 

 Averting your eyes, you started towards the open recliner only to have a strong arm snake around your waist as you passed by and pulled you onto the couch. You squeaked as you suddenly found yourself perched on Ivar's lap. Somewhere you had certainly never been before. 

 "Where do you think you're going?" He asked, a cocky grin spread across his face. 

 "Um, over there." You nodded your head towards the other open spot. 

 "No, you're sitting here now."

 "Stop hogging her, brother." Hvitserk reached over and dragged you off Ivar. Somehow you ended up with your back against Hvitserk's side, his arm slung around you and your legs across Ivar's lap, him slowly running his hand up and down them. 

 Ubbe raised an eyebrow at the three of you. "Are you done yet?"

 "I thought we were just fine but I guess Hvitty had other plans." Ivar snarked, rolling his eyes. 

 "We're good now." Hvitserk said with a cheesy smile, making you giggle. 

 "So how are you really doing, y/n?" Ubbe asked, staring at you with those knowing blue eyes. 

 "Um, I'm alright. Today was just…. rough." At the four questioning looks, you quickly explained about what you found this morning on Instagram. 

 Ivar slapped the armrest of the couch. "I'm beating his ass now and nothing you say can stop me."

 You snagged his other hand that was still on your leg and clasped it, as if that alone could diminish his deadly intent. "Please don't. He's not worth it. I just…. I just want to move on. Ok?"

 He grumbled, but eventually gripped your hand and gave it a single squeeze in acknowledgement. 

 Now here was the part that petrified you; but you needed to know. 

 "Um, how…. how long have…. was this your first time?" Your words stumbled out, making you cringe at how ineloquent it was. 

 "What are you talking about?" Sigurd drawled; one foot propped up so he slowly rocked in the gaming chair.  

 You licked your lips, your mouth suddenly dry. You dropped your gaze, as you whispered your answer. "My….my singing."

 "What? You sound bloody brilliant! The others have heard you more than me but you always sound amazing!" Sigurd exclaimed, a beaming smile on his face. "I don't know why you haven't gone out with me before! Oh! I'd love for you to try and sing in my band, we could use an amazing vocalist like you! Gods, we could get way more gigs with a beautiful woman like you upfront singing."

 Soon as Sigurd started talking, you covered your face with your hands. The tears you managed to repress earlier flooded back. Your shoulders hunched over, cowering into yourself at the revelation. They had all heard you. Apparently more than just this one time. It was mortifying. Long ago you stopped singing in front of others, no longer able to face the ridicule, the degrading comments always thrown your way. And now, these brothers that you had become so close to…. if they said anything negative towards you right now, you were sure your heart would fully break and no lyric would ever pass your lips again. 

 Hvitserk shifted behind you, turning you so he could wrap both arms around your waist and place his cheek against the side of your head. "Y/n, talk to us." 

 You shook your head, the barely suppressed tears and poisoned words clogging your throat. 

 Abruptly, a pair of calloused hands grabbed yours, forcing them away from your face. You were immediately met by a pair of piercing blue eyes, only inches from your face. 

 "Whose ass am I killing now? Huh?" Ivar demanded in a low, menacing tone. Between his tone and the fury burning in his eyes, you knew he meant his question, and that sent a nervous chill down your spine. 

 "It's not…. it’s nothing."

 "Bullshit." Ivar spat. 

 Hvitserk nuzzled your temple, his voice lighter but still with an edge of steel in it. "I agree with Ivar. Something happened."

 Biting your bottom lip, you closed your eyes. There were a few things that were just too painful to talk about and this one, they had unknowingly stumbled upon. 

 "Was it your mother?"

 Your eyes flew open, your head snapped over to stare at Ubbe in shock. He met your gaze unflinchingly, and somehow you knew he already figured at least part of it out. He accidentally overheard a phone conversation between you and your mother one time and once you got off the phone, he immediately pulled you into a bone-crushing hug and promised you never had to see her again if you never wanted to, that they would take care of you. Of course, you cried all over him after he promised that. 

 Ubbe leaned forward in the recliner, placing his elbows on his knees, gaze still intent on you. "What did she do?"

 "She…. she hated when I sang. Said I was just desperate for attention. That I needed to just shut up. That no one would want to listen to me anyway. If she ever caught me singing…. once she duct-taped my mouth shut."

 You could hear the gasps at your confession, followed by a round of curses. Hvitserk pressed a kiss to your temple, tightening his hold on you. Ivar squeezed your hands, still holding them within his own. 

 Ubbe nodded as if not surprised. He ran a hand down his face and sighed before stealing your gaze once again. "I have a feeling she wasn't the only one to hurt you."

 At this point, a silent tear trekked down your cheek. You sniffled, dropping your gaze down. "I had an ex who used to make fun of my singing. He used to say 'at least you're pretty'. When we would ride together listening to music, he would tell me to stop singing and 'leave it to the professionals'. At some point, it just….it was better to not sing in front of anyone. So I only sang in the shower cause I thought no one would hear me."

 Hvitserk turned your head, looking into your eyes. "Baby, listen to me. Your singing is incredible. We all love listening to you sing. Please don't be embarrassed about this with us."

 "I'd love for you to walk around the house singing, I could happily listen to that all day." Ubbe said, a tender smile on his lips. 

 "I second that!" 

 "Sig, you're only here on Sundays." Ubbe glanced over at his brother. 

 Sigurd shrugged. "So? I could listen to her sing all day. Maybe she should move in with me and actually be appreciated."

 "No! You're not stealing her from us!" Hvitserk said, practically cradling you against him, like a puppy afraid to lose its favorite toy.

 "It's not stealing if she wants to go!" 

 Ivar butted in. "I am more interested in this other shitty ex and mother...can I find them?"

 "No, Ivar. You have to stop threatening people."

 "Why?" He whined at you, tugged on your hands, your legs still across his lap. "You won't let me teach them a lesson so all I can do is threaten."

 "Also sounds like you have terrible taste in guys. Anymore shitty exes we should know about?" Sigurd asked, rocking his chair. 

 You figured at this point you were spilling all your dirty secrets so what was one more. "Um, I was talking to this one guy but when he found out I moved in here, he called me a whore for moving in with two brothers and told me I was a waste of his time." You softly admitted, having made sure none of them ever heard about that after it happened. 

 For a moment there was dead silence then….

 "I'm going to need his name right now." Ubbe said, malice dripping off every word. 

 "Yeah! Let's cut his tongue out! See what he says about that!" Ivar cheered. 

 You could not stop the laughter that came out. The idea that these brothers got so worked up over anyone that ever insulted or hurt you was both sweet and slightly infuriating, but mostly sweet. No one had ever cared about you as strongly as these four brothers. 

 "It's fine now. How about this? Next guy to hurt me, I promise I'll give you his name."

 "No! I want to cut this asshole's tongue out. Maybe slap him with it after!" Ivar smiled with a pure predatory look. 

 "I think you should just date one of us." Sigurd shrugged, watching everyone with a smirk. "Then you know he'd treat you right."

 "I like this idea." Hvitserk smiled, squeezing you lightly. "We would romance the hell out of you."

 "You guys are being silly. I don't even know what romance would look like." You giggled at the absurd idea. All the brothers were gorgeous in their own ways and could pick up any girl they wanted, why would they want you? Besides, your relationships were just platonic. "Is the interrogation over now? Want me to leave so you can get back to your game?"

 "Nope, you're stuck here." Ivar said, leaning on you now so you were sandwiched between the two brothers. 

 Ubbe chuckled. "We've told you before, you are welcome to hang out with us. Why don't we put in a movie?"

 After many arguments and some mild threats, a movie was finally chosen. You settled against Hvitserk, facing the TV, as you played with Ivar's hair, his head now in your lap. 

 As you watched the movie, you missed the silent conversation between the brothers happening around you. It was decided that your next boyfriend would certainly be one of them and in the meantime, they were all going to romance the hell out of you and make sure you understood how important and incredible you are. 

 Starting with making sure you sang whenever you wanted. 

[heshoes]

She was his best friend and they shared everything together already anyway. What difference would it make if it were a hat, shampoo, or the same bed sometimes? So what? That's what the Uni Daze were about, having fun, traditions, getting serious, new relationships, friendships, heart ache, break-ups, make ups, secrets, the occasional/casual bajingo here and there, and possibly, just maybe, finding the love of your life and hoping that it all works out.

Warnings: smut, slow burn, angst, mentions of abortion, mentions of verbal abuse

Harry Styles x OC (Face claim Zendaya)

Uni Daze Masterlist

Chapter 2 ( Word Count 6.7K )

Harry

My school day was absolutely long but it kept me busy and busy to me is a good thing. It keeps me balanced though I know Chelle would disagree since he keeps telling me as such over the phone.

"The only reason you think that trying to fit 72 hours in a 24 hour day is a balance is because of your parents. Just because they're work driven arseholes doesn't mean that you have to follow in their footsteps.”

"That's impossible to do, I don't work that much. My parent's aren't arsehole's they're just successful. Is that so wrong to want success?”

"It is when its your last year of uni and you're being a kill joy.”

"I said I would go out for drinks, Chelle. How is my compliance to something that I don't want to do being a kill joy?”

"Because you're not doing it with a smile. You've become boring. Your sex life and your regular life has turned about as vanilla as a middle aged man. We never had to beg you to come out last year or over the summer, Harrow. Think of it as a week of extended holidays. No one does anything the first week of classes anyway. It's all rules and instructions on how to prepare. We've been in uni for three years. We should know the jist of it by now.”

"But it's not summer anymore, Chelle and you know some professors like to give assignments in the first few days. We have two papers already in seminar for fucks sake.”

Michelle sighed in annoyance.

"Yeah, but, those aren't due for ages, Haz. Fun is due right now.”

"This is the year to pull your shit together. Everyone can't not study and get perfect marks like you. Sorry.”

"The phrase 'can't not' is a double edged sword.”

"What?" I spun around in my desk at work, handing a first year her keys. Its only the first day and she's already lost her keys and has to use her spare for a fifty pound charge. She looks nervous as well and her face is kind of red. She grins at me and says a shy 'thank you' before walking away, staring back at me and kind of tripping over her own feet on her way to the lift. I tried not to laugh, but honestly it was kind of funny.

"You know, a double edged sword? A double negative?You can't say 'can't not' next to each other in a sentence. It's repetitive of itself. You should be embarrassed. This is primary school stuff Harrow. Mr. “I have to take the UKCAT this year.”"

"Whatever Chelle! See? That's what I mean. I need a balance. I need to be able to be involved in school. I should have taken it more serious when we first started out.”

"You do realize balance means a good amount of your job, school work, AND a social life which includes parties and pubs and going out with your mates without a grumble?”

"I'm going out for drinks tonight! You're starting to piss me off."

"If the truth is anything it's annoying, Harry." I nodded my head and began to swivel around in my chair. I'd just gotten to work and had three and a half more hours to go. I'm glad I have a job and all but this one is fucking boring.

Speaking of truth.

"Do the boys know about your um...your new team?”

"No. Actually they don’t."

Oh.

“Oh?"

"Yeah, um, I was hoping that it was something that we could keep between me and you for now. Just until I can figure things out. I'd love to say that I'm for sure just this one thing. I know I said it this morning, but I'm still not sure, okay?”

"Yeah. Sure, of course." I stopped spinning in my seat and dizzying myself when I heard my manager's voice,"Look I've gotta go. I'm not supposed to be on the phone and my boss is coming.”

"Oh so there is some rebellion left in you? You're living on the edge now, Hazland. Why can't you use your phone? All you do is sit in a chair and answer phones and make people keys when they lock themselves out of their dorm.”

"Bye Michelle!" I quickly hung up the phone and stuck it into my pocket smiling awkwardly at Professor Forrester as he approached the front desk with someone else right next to him. She had on a Cambridge work shirt much like myself letting me know that I more than likely wouldn't be alone for the rest of my shift.

"Rion, this is Harry," Professor Forrester spoke to her before addressing me, "today is her first day here at the university and working. I told her that she would be in good hands if I left her here with you. Show her the ropes and maybe show her around campus when you're not at work? I've got to go," Professor Forrester turned to face the new girl before he nodded back at me, "any questions you have, ask him. He'll know all of the answers.”

She nodded her head up and down slowly before giving a shy grin and we were left alone as Forrester left the building.

“Hi."

“Hello."

"I'm Harry.”

She laughed to herself before nodding her head at me.

"So I was told. Nice to meet you.”

Rion, I think her name was, sat down in her seat next to mine after speaking back to me, lowering her rucksack down to the ground before pulling out a book. It was a good idea really. Maybe I should have brought one? I barely get the chance to read, especially living with Michelle. She always finds a way to interrupt, either that or my ADD kicks in, all the more reason for me to put in more effort at school. I took out my phone once I knew that Forrester was gone, but I really had nothing to do with it. I had no new text messages besides Michelle.

Chelle: Drinksssssss 🍻🍺🍺🍺🍻🍻🍻😉

I grinned before shaking my head and replying back to her, something just as stupid as she sent me.

To Chelle: Tortureeeeeeee😣🔫🍺😒

Chelle: Dramatic!

Ignoring her last text, I took out my earphones and turned up the music on my phone as I placed them in my ears. I suppose it was a bit loud because out of the corner of my eye I could see Rion scrunching her nose while she tried to read.

"Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to disturb you.”

"No disturbance, I was just trying to figure the tune. Runaway?”

“Wh-what?"

She laughed before she pointed to the phone in my hand and repeated herself.

"Is that Runaway by Ed Sheeran?”

I nodded my head, not able to stop the stupid grin that cut across my face.

"You know Ed Sheeran that’s not on top 40?”

"Who doesn't? The man's a musical genius.”

She smiled at me before she turned back to her book, but I couldn't help but to keep talking to her.

"What school did you used to go to? Um, if you don't mind me asking…"

"Nope, don't mind at all. I used to go to Bristol Uni. How about yourself? Have you been at Cambridge all of your university career?”

I nodded my head and she looked impressed, but I'm sure she wouldn't be if she knew that I was a legacy and that I slacked off for the first three and a half years. Good thing that I'm getting my shit together now.

"Yeah, it’s alright here.”

"Just alright?”

"One of the best alrights I guess. Welcome to Cambridge and congratulations.”

"Thank you.”

I smiled at her and the conversation was on the verge of ending, but before I stuck my other ear bud in I paid closer attention to the book that she had in her hand.

"Scott Fitzgerald."

"Pardon?" Rion raised an eyebrow at me.

"That's F. Scott Fitzgerald.”

She raised her book showing me the spine, shocked that I hadn't seen the cover but still got the author right.

"You know F. Scott Fitzgerald?" She smiled at me while relaying my words back to me.

"Who doesn't? The man was a written genius. Not to mention that the book you're reading happens to be one of my favorites.”

She smiled again.

"Usually people only notice Fitzgerald if The Great Gatsby is involved." She turned her chair towards mine giving me a better view of her.

"Gatsby is a classic, but I think that The Curious Case of Benjamin Button has more character.”

We continued to talk and before I knew it the shift was over. No one else needed keys and the phone barely rung. I probably would have stayed beyond the time that I was supposed to get off talking and creating awkward conversation with Rion had it not been for Michelle's reminders:

Chelle: Tonight is gonna be fun 😊

Chelle: You're off work in 1⃣5⃣ min🎉🎊

Chelle: I'm gonna get you so fucked up!😝

Chelle: I'm excited 😬

To Chelle: No 💩. Too excited I reckon 😐

I laughed to myself as I gathered my things to leave the building, not fully believing that I allowed Michelle to talk me into drinking tonight, even though part of me knew that I wouldn't be able to break tradition. Rion put her book away, that she never really got into reading and followed behind me out the door and to the parking lot. She seemed cool from what I got to know about her in the amount of time that I did and since she's new, I figure that it wouldn't hurt to ask.

"Hey, a couple of my friends and I are getting together tonight to The Mill. Its a pub right up the road on Mill lane, if you're not busy, you should, um, you should come.”

"Mill pub? On a Monday?”

"Yeah, it's kind of a tradition that we started when we started here." I rub my shoulder as I wait for her answer. I don't know why I feel nervous about it but I do.

"It sounds like fun, but I shouldn’t, not tonight at least. I wouldn't be able to bear it if I missed class tomorrow because of a hangover, and I kind of also have plans.”

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make it like you didn't have anything else to do or-”

"No it's fine it's just... I have a date.”

"Right. Sorry again.”

"I'll see you around though I hope?”

"Yeah, I'll see you at work.”

Rion nodded her head while giving me a content smile before she got into her car and as she pulled off, she waved to me. I waved back but as soon as her car was out of sight, I slapped myself in the face with the palm of my hand. Maybe six months is too long to go without any type of real interaction with the opposite sex besides Michelle, but honestly she doesn't count...or maybe she counts for both now?

I cleared my head of my thoughts as I got into my car that I feel like I'm too tall for. Even with the seat pushed down as low as it can go, I still can feel the top of my head brush against the roofing of it. By now I'm sure I've saved up enough to get a new one. A new car could be my mini treat to myself for cutting myself off from a social life. The more that I think about the way that my conversation with Rion just ended the more that I start to agree with Michelle and the more excited I get for the night of boozy tradition.

As soon as eleven thirty-five hit, my phone rang. When I answered it Michelle's voice came through clear as if she were sitting here next to me in the car, even though background noise and music blares in the room around her.

"Everyone is here but you. Are you en route?”

"Everyone?" I ask her with skepticism in my tone. I would be shocked if everyone showed up.

"Yes everyone. Niall, Darragh, and Zayn. Everyone but you. Are you on your way?”

I don't know why I even asked her if everyone would be there. I knew that Louis wouldn't show even though it was him and Darragh who started this tradition..

"Yeah, I'm on my way. This should be fun.”

"That's the spirit I've been looking for Harrow. It sounds like you've had a change of heart since earlier.”

"Yeah, I think I've been looking at my textbooks too long and not at real people. One night won't kill me I suppose.”

"If one night is done right, then yes, yes it will. And what do you mean you don't see real people? I see you everyday.”

"You're not a real person, Michelle. I'm not quite sure what you are yet.”

"I think I might have an idea by now." Michelle said while chuckling on the other end of the line.

"And what would that be?”

"Getting lucky tonight. Get here soon and I can be your wing-lady.”

The pub was in the early stages of being crowded when I got there and I couldn't deny how excited I was to see the boys, Michelle included even though I saw her only just this morning. The last time that we were all together was in the middle of June, but after that we really hadn't had time to hang out. Everyone had gotten busy and into their own things. Besides keeping in touch over the phone occasionally, we haven't really talked that much either.

The first person that I saw when I got in was Niall. He sat next to Darragh with a cigarette hanging from his lips, patting down his jeans in search of a lighter no doubt. When we made eye contact, he stuck his arms out to the side with his fingers spread wide and a smile on his face. Darragh looked at him as if he lost his mind until he followed Niall's line of vision and then quickly stood from his seat.

"Harry! How are you lad? Drinks are on Liam so order the most expensive thing possible.”

I received two claps on the back from each of them when I reached the table and then a smack on my ass that made me jump and then turn around find the guilty culprit. I should have known who it was straight away.

"Chelle! That actually hurt.”

She laughed at my discomfort with some kind of frothy drink in her hand as I grabbed my bum cheek and rubbed it over my jeans.

"Probably because there's barely any meat there to cushion the blow.”

I shook my head at her and squinted my eyes before I responded, "It's not about what's back there, its all about what's in the front. Girls don't date me for my bum.”

“Well, according to you, girls don't date you at all, not recently at least.”

Niall and Darragh started to laugh and a stream of smoke came through Niall's nose reminding me of an angry bull from a cartoon before he took another drag from his cigarette, this time intentionally blowing a ring of smoke before sucking it back in through his nostrils. I probably could have strangled Michelle in that moment, but it was true. My mind goes back to Rion and work and I can feel my cheeks burn with embarrassment.

"Mitch told us about your six month drought.”

"Stop calling me Mitch!”

Niall ignored Michelle's outburst before continuing, "She says you haven't gotten laid since your birthday.”

"Do you know what a penis fly catcher even looks like anymore?" Darragh added to Niall's teasing causing my nose to scrunch.

"Penis fly catcher?”

"Yeah, it's better than what you call it. What do you say again? Bajango?”

"No Darragh," Niall cuts in, "Django was a movie. He says bajingo. It makes sense to me.”

Michelle scrunches her nose in disgust and confusion at our conversation but doesn't say anything. Really though, what more could be added to this?

"It's not that big of a deal guys." I bring the conversation back to where it was before it drifted into a dark place so quickly. It can't be that bad. Can it? Perhaps it is? I don't even know at this point anymore.

"Oi leave him alone," Zayn chimed in as he walked up to the table with Liam with two beers in hand, passing me one before he sat down, "its alright Harry sex isn't everything...but six months is a long ass time. But enough about that. What has everyone been up to?”

It was almost like a show and tell as we went around the table talking about what we'd missed out on over the summer since we hadn't seen each other. Niall and Darragh went to Ibiza for the month of July staying in hostels and partying until all hours of the morning. Apparently Niall is in love with a girl he met there, but he doesn't remember her name so I don't know how accurate that is

Zayn spent a good amount of time in France with his girlfriend, sorry, fiancé. The fucker got engaged in France. Everyone thought that he and Daphne were gonna be a short lived thing since they met at a club and all, but people find love and fall in it in mysterious ways I guess. Michelle would be a prime example of that...but love is not involved with her apparently. A player not to be played anymore. I still have questions to ask her about that but I guess I'll have to wait until later since she doesn't want the guys to know that she's traded outies for innies. I could out her like she did me and my drought, but that's way more personal and I've decided that I'm not that much of an asshole, if I'm one at all that is.

Liam was arrested and his parents flipped out. For what I'm kind of scared to ask, but I'm sure it was something accidental. Sometimes I wonder how Liam even got into Cambridge, but I guess that they don't test for common sense, only book smarts.

When it got to Michelle's turn, she just talked about how she flew back home for a few weeks at the very start of summer to visit family and then came back here, but of course that's not anything that I didn't already know. When she came back was when I noticed all of the girlfriends that she had. It was odd to me because Michelle generally hated girls and hanging out with them, but then again, she obviously doesn't hate them that much.

When I told them that the most exciting part of my summer had been joining a book club for some work that I had to get ready to do for senior class, studying for the UKCAT that's not until the end of the school year, and sometimes coming here to Mill pub with Michelle I realized that what she said was true. My life had become vanilla, but I'm honestly kind of alright with it.

We continued to talk, share, laugh and drink until it was at least half three in the morning. I was waiting to see if Michelle was going to change her mind and let the lads know about her newfound liking but she kept it private between me and her the way that she said she would and it kind of made me smile. That along with the ridiculous amount of beer and shots consumed brought a goofy smile to my face by the end of the night.

By exactly three forty-five I was seeing double and couldn't drive home. Niall and Darragh had left to go back to their apartment that happened to be a few blocks down from ours, and Zayn and Liam stayed behind at the bar to drink deciding that they were too far gone now and might as well finish strong. They also decided that class tomorrow isn't important.

Michelle would have stayed behind with them I'm sure, but she has the tendency to be this odd motherly type when I get beyond the legal limit. I think she just likes to laugh at me because I start to say foolish things when my tongue loosens up in my mouth and my words slur. I tried to get up from the table discreetly so that I could walk home while Mitch, Zayn, and Liam continued to chat, but I knocked over a chair.

“Oh shit. I'm sorry bro." I chuckled to myself like an idiot as I picked up the chair earning the lads attention.

"Where are you going?" Michelle's eyes seemed to widen as she took in the state of me.

"Home. I've got class in the morrow-morning.”

"Do you honestly think that you're going to make it to class? Look at you, you can barely stand. My job is complete.” Michelle grins in triumph and I squint my eyes at her trying to figure out when she was going to tell me that she was a triplet.

"You're a horrible people and I don't know why we're friends." I think I was looking at her when I said it, but it could have very well been one of her sisters.

"Alright, and that's my cue. We'll see you later guys." Michelle spoke to Liam and Zayn as stood from the table, a little wobbly at best bus still in a better condition than I was in.

"You don't have to walk me home, Michelle. I'm not no kid.”

Michelle laughed as I stumbled, almost tripping on a crack in the pavement.

"Since I live there too I'm not technically walking you home. I'm walking home with you.”

I checked to see if my car was locked before we began our walk. The crisp early morning air sobered me up a bit, but I was still highly intoxicated and grinning.

"How was your first day of classes?" Michelle asked me breaking the silence of our trek back to our flat.

"Hmm, was okay. Good actually... I met this…met this girl.”

"You did? You were holding out on us at the pub! Who is it? Do I know who she is?”

"No, I don't think you do," I paused to hiccup hoping that was all that I had to do, "She's new here and you don't like girls. I mean, well, you know what I mean. You wouldn't know her.”

Michelle laughed while shaking her head.

“So it's a first year? I'm ashamed of you! I know you haven't dated in a while but that's sweeping the bottom of the barrel, Harrow.”

“No not a first year," hiccup "She's around my age, just new to Cambridge.”

“Oh," Michelle spoke putting her key in the door before she opened it "Where'd you meet her?”

“Work. I kind of asked her to come to the pub with me, but she said she had a date and I kind of sounded like a blubbering idiot when I asked her. I don't know.”

“Harry! You can't just invite people to come to the pub and we haven't met them yet! What if she was awful? Good thing she didn't come. That tradition is sacred for us. Whatever you said to her was probably fine. She just had other plans... Do you know why I've recently started calling you Harrow Harry?”

“Because it's one of the many odd nicknames you've created for me?”

“No. Harrow as in the adjective, it just so happens to fit with you. Har•row when used in verbal tense, means to cause distress to. You're causing unnecessary distress to yourself when you worry about things like the UKCAT and assignments that aren't due until the end of the year, and whatever you've said to this mystery bird that you've met at work. Fun. You used to be much less tense and more fun. You need to chill out and relax. You need to I don't know, get some maybe.”

I rolled my eyes before running my hand through my hair and walking into the kitchen, opening the cabinet in search of my favorite drunken snack, grabbing it when I found it and heading for my room. Quickly stripping off into my boxers, I fell against my bed before I turned on my television and got under the covers. I ate my snack in peace before Michelle knocked on my door twice and then let herself in.

"I could have been naked! you could at least wait for me to say come in.”

“Yeah well, its not like I've never seen a penis before and they're not really my main thing anymore you know?” Michelle climbed into bed with me, intruding while I tried to hide my snacks.

"What are you eating?”

“Nothing.” I slowed my chewing in hopes that she would lose interest.

"Harry I see them! Are those teddy grahams?”

“No!”

“They are! They're a snack for a five year old.”

“Teddy grahams don't have an age limit.”

“You should be embarrassed.” Chelle spoke before grabbing the box and taking a handful for herself, moving around too much for my drunken stomach to handle.

"Oohh these are nice. These are new sheets aren't they?”

"Chelle! Stop moving! Why are you in my room? Get out!”

“My room is too hot, so I've decided that we're going to have a sleepover. You get the better ventilation. You should trade with me.”

“What?”

“I'll sleep on the floor. It really is dreadful in my room.”

I sigh before I grab my pillows and comforter and toss them on the ground leaving Michelle the bed as I make my way to the floor.

“Aww Harry you're the sweetest, but I can really take the floor.”

“No, it's fine. Just don't do anything perverted while you're up there.”

“What like masturbate? I'm not you.”

I chuckled turning to face her from my position on the floor.

“Exactly, but if you do at least that I’m asleep first…Thats just common courtesy. ”

“Sure thing, Harlot. I can do that for you.” Michelle responded without pause causing me to chuckle before my head hit the pillow.

****

“ My head,” I groaned, waking up on the floor with my covers wrapped around me too tight much like a swaddling cloth. After successfully the blanket away from me in an attempt to escape confinement, I sat up slowly only to make the headache worse than it already was and add a new pain to the mix. “My back.”

I had almost forgotten that I slept on the floor to be nice and allowed Michelle to stay in my bed, but when I turned around to look at it I quickly discovered that she wasn't there. I could hear fumbling around in the kitchen and when I stood to follow the noise, the pounding in my head grew. When I reached the small space that we mostly use to microwave shitty food and store alcohol and juice, I saw that Michelle was fully dressed. I mean, well, if you can call an oversized sweater and tights with ladders down the legs in random places dressed then thats what she was.

“Morning, sunshine. How do you feel.”

“Like my head might explode all over the kitchen and I still have to get ready for class. Today is going to be long as shit,” my words slurred proving that there was still traces of alcohol in my bloodstream and when I swayed back and forth feeling as if I might lose my balance, I knew, “I'm still fucked.”

Michelle laughed at me before she flipped her pancake onto a plate and ran it back and forth below my nose. I snatched it from her and took a bite of the buttery breakfast cake without using the fork that she offered.

“Don't be such a savage, Haz. I'm not going to take the food from you after I've clearly been slaving over the oven for five whole minutes so that you could eat. Slow down, chew your food, and sit like a civilized human being. If you eat like that you're going to require the heimlich maneuver and unfortunately I don't know it. You'll turn blue and die in front of me on a Tuesday afternoon and that would put a slight damper on my day.”

“Afternoon?” I asked her while chewing around the pancake, “Afternoon?”

“Yes, Styles. Thats what I said.”

I put the plate that I was holding down on our small kitchen bench before I walked out into living room to squint at the only other clock that we had besides our cell phones, only to confirm what Chelle had just said. I rubbed my hands over my eyes hoping that it was just an illusion and what I'd seen was wrong because if it was the truth, I'd missed all of my morning classes for the day.

“Three eleven? It can't be three eleven! I had classes from nine until two!”

“And you slept through them like a baby.”

“Fuck! Michelle why didn't you wake me up? What's the point of having an Ultimate Alarm if it's not going to be used?”

“Harry, remember that little chat we had yesterday about distress and the use of your nickname? And in order for me to wake you up, I would have had to been up too. Even if I was, I wouldn't be using the Ultimate Alarm to save you with the splitting hangover that I had,” Michelle shakes her head in clear disgust before she continued, “too loud.”

My eyes widened as I looked at my friend, bewildered, annoyed, and somewhere deep down, somewhat amused. I waved my hand between the two of us before I gave up and ran it over my face exasperatedly. This is not how I intended to start the year off. My hand ascended from my face to sliding through my hair in distress, “Thats the point of the alarm, Michelle. It's supposed to be loud. It's supposed to wake you up.”

“Harry, calm down. When we got to sleep it was like seven in the morning anyway. I don't know how you expected to be up, awake, and alert in class. Don't you have like seven others that you can go to tonight? Over achiever.”

“If I shower now I can make it to my organic chemistry class.”

“Gross.”

I looked over to Michelle and frowned before I continued, “ Thanks for throwing me off by the way, making pancakes at three in the afternoon and making me think that it was morning.”

“Whatever time of day that you wake up is morning to me. I was feeling like pancakes, so I made pancakes. You didn't seem to mind them by the way that you were eating them a few minutes ago, arsehole.”

The mention of the food reminded me of how dry my throat was and how alcohol will leave your mouth feeling like you'd guzzled sand if you consume enough of it. I felt like a raisin.

“Do we have anymore orange juice?”

"No. Sorry I finished that all yesterday morning when you almost killed me and Alison with that damn fog horn.”

“Alison?” I smirked at Michelle before I started to tease. "Usually a player doesn't remember a conquests name.”

“You would know," she retorted back while squinting her eyes, “ you used to be one. But don't worry, Harry. I'll get so good at it that you won't ever catch one of them leaving the next morning ever again. I'll be like a black widow or is it a praying mantises that kill all other intimacy as soon as they've finished with them? I'll send them on their way so that I can sleep in my bed alone. It'll be like a switch.”

Michelle grinned as she spoke, silently approving her idea as I thought about how lonely it sounded. It actually saddened me. Michelle isn't the type that can handle being cold hearted and callous enough to kick people out of bed. After being in a monogamous relationship for three years, I could tell that she was the type who craved intimacy. She deserved it. What she just explained to me sounded like eventually it would take its toll on her and she would break down like she did before, substituting my shirt sleeves for tissues.

I keep my opinions to myself, not having enough time before my next class starts to really sit down with her and talk about them. If it's one thing that I cherish about Michelle and I's relationship is that we can literally almost talk about anything, if we had the proper amount of time to do so. I shake my head at her before I head down the hall, calling back to her.

“I never was a player, Mitch. I just wasn't steady in my relationships like you.”

"Whatever you say, Harold. Please go put on trousers…I don't want to see your moose knuckle.”

****

I'd made it to my chemistry lecture on time, and though I tried my hardest, it was extremely difficult to keep my eyes open. Even though I'd slept past all of my morning classes, I still didn't get the best rest from sleeping on the floor. Michelle was irritatingly right again. The only thing that was really mentioned today since it was still the very beginning of the school year, was instruction and what the professor expected from us as a class, so when my eyes closed momentarily as I sat at the back of the room, I didn't feel so bad. Before I knew it the lecture was over and I was rustled awake my the movement of students as they gathered their bags to leave the room.

"You've got a bit of dribble there." A familiar voice laughed as I stepped out of the classroom I wiped my mouth sheepishly before smiling at her.

“Rion, hi how are you?”

“I'm good. Getting around campus well enough, but how are you? You look pretty worn out and its only the second official day of the school year. Did your tradition get the best of you last night? You've got imprint marks from your sweater on your face.”

My hand went to the side of my face that she pointed out, the imprints from my clothing giving away my previous position before I flashed her a quick grin and responded ,Um, uh yeah kind of. I may or may not have missed all of my classes this morning. Mitch didn't wake me up, bad influence I guess.”

“Mitch?”

"Oh, um sh- Mitch is just...Mitch is my roommate." I explained in a panic I didn't want to scare her off with the details. I think I might actually have a chance with Rion, if I don't put my foot in my mouth that is.

“Oh I see.”

Rion smiled at me and I didn't even realize that we've been walking and talking this entire time. Conversation flows easily with her even though I stumble over my words. I feel like I'm just remembering how to talk to the opposite sex besides Michelle and feel kind of pathetic, but Rion doesn't seem to mind as she continues to smile laugh and start on new topics of conversation.

“So how long were you out for?”

“I didn't go to sleep until seven this morning and my head was pounding when I woke up. I really have no one to blame but myself. I told my friends that I would only have one drink and ended the night on my ass. I still have to go back to the pub and get my car, because I had to end up walking home. How I got to the right apartment on the first try is a mystery to me.”

Rion giggled in a cute way before tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear allowing me to see her features more. Her neck was slender and long, connecting to her shoulders delicately. She had a small tattoo that looked to be a ballet flat behind her left ear. Those tattoos placed just there always seemed like they might hurt, like they deserved to be kissed better even though the ache from the needle has been long gone. I could envision my lips on just that spot. I must have glanced at her just a bit longer than I should have causing a rosy hue to make its presence known on her cheeks. It made me smile before I quickly changed the subject this time, not wanting her to think that I was rude or weird for staring.

"How did your date go?"

She took deep breath before deciding if she wanted give a response or not and we ended up in the courtyard right before the student parking lot.

"It came and went, I suppose. Nothing really interesting to report. It sounds like I would have had more fun if I had taken the offer to go out for drinks with you. I'm usually not really big on drinking on the weekdays, but after that date I honestly might have taken a shot or four."

I smiled, selfishly happy that she didn't have a good time. I want to ask her out, but I feel like its too damn soon. I only met her yesterday anyway. Maybe its a good thing that she turned me down. When the time is right to ask her I'm sure I'll know. Hopefully I will.

"I'm sorry it didn't go as planned. Someone should take you out and show you a good time."

"Yeah, hopefully someone will sooner rather than later."

I think the emphasis that she put on the word someone was aimed at me, but I could be wrong. I don't know what else to say so I cap the conversation off with a , "Yeah" and mentally slap myself in the face before I grin awkwardly at her. I look around the parking lot as we come up to a white Toyota and she takes her keys out signaling that the tiny car is hers.

"Oh, well I'll let you go and get on with the rest of your day. Good seeing you."

"Okay, yeah." She responds quietly before she puts the key in the lock to open the door.

This has to be the most awkward I've felt in a while. I radiate awkward and though I don't want to believe it's because of what Michelle and the boys said, I'm kind of starting to think that they might be right myself.

"Wait, Harry?"

"Yes?" I turn my head to look over my shoulder before turning around to face her.

"I can take you to go get your car if you'd like. It looks like it might rain and it would suck if you were to get all wet."

All wet. I blush at her word choice and from that point on I know. Michelle, Niall, and Darragh were right.

"No. No its okay. You don't have to and I mean, don't you have other classes?"

She shakes her head and then opens her other car door, "I'm done for the day. Really I don't have a problem taking you. Get in."

I walk back towards her, thanking her and then giving her directions to the pub from the main campus. When we pull up, sure enough my car is there. Along with a ticket taped to the window for leaving it in the lot overnight. I sigh and rub my hands over my eyes before I get out and thank Rion again. Just as she's about to pull off, I call her name causing her to stop the car and reverse.

"Yes?" She looks at me eagerly with her eyes slightly widened and and traces of a grin on her face. I scratched my head out of embarrassment before I speak while pointing to the passenger side of the car.

"I left my book bag in your car."

"Oh, sorry. Here you go." The grin falls as she unlocks her car door so that I can get my bookbag. This time when she pulls off, I wave an awkward goodbye to her before getting in my car, knocking my head against the steering wheel in defeat causing the horn to honk.

[sooibian]

Trespassing is Prohibited!

Pairing: Baekhyun x Fem!Reader ft. Chanyeol

Genre: Fluff! Fluff! Fluff! Crack. Friends to Lovers AU, University AU (ish) 

Description: Byun Baekhyun has had enough. He finally wants to ‘man up’ and make you his. But things continue to spiral out of control all thanks to his friend, philosopher, and guide (a.k.a. The Worst Wingman Ever) Park Chanyeol.

Warnings: A very rambly Baekhyun and a longwinding confession

Word Count: + 3k

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

“You want me to talk about the weather?” Baekhyun squeaked into the phone after having breathed in helium from the blown up balloon in his hand.

“The weather, politics...the economy even.” Heaving slightly, Chanyeol spoke after a moment, his usual gruff and masculine voice reduced to a wafer thin high pitched squeal, sending Baekhyun into a fit of helium suffused giggles.

Taking another drag off of the balloon, Baekhyun warbled and piped, “Say...say that again. Say economy again!”

“Eco...econo-” Chanyeol’s extreme outburst of laughter at the sound of his own voice, rendered him unable to pronounce the final syllable.

All along, you stood at the door, comfortably leaning against its frame and eavesdropping on their conversation or the blatant lack thereof. Chanyeol suddenly wanted Baekhyun to talk about the weather, politics, and the economy? You thought you’d grown immune to your best friends’ antics but they continued to up the ante and left you baffled, amused, or both every single time. 

You cleared your throat to catch Baekhyun’s attention but it fell on deaf ears. He rolled around in bed, breathing in helium, laughing hysterically, chanting the words ‘economy, weather, and politics’.

“BAEKHYUN!” You screamed at last. He scrambled to face you, wearing an expression of a deer caught in the headlights. You finally had the entirety of Baekhyun’s eight second attention span all to yourself.

“YAH! YAH! YAH! What are you doing here?” Baekhyun retaliated and then whispered something into his phone, stuffed it inside his pocket, straightened his shirt and sat primly on the edge of the bed like a child who’d been caught eating forbidden candy. He threw you an accusatory glance but there was an unmistakable hint of embarrassment and panic in his eyes.

Peering over your glasses, you snapped at him, “I’ve come to pick up my phone charger because you obviously lacked the courtesy to return it!”

“Oh!” His lips protruded into a pout and he tilted his head to the side as if in deep thought, “I’ll bring it over in the evening.”

“Why are you acting so….dazed and confused?” Slouching, you took careful, deliberate steps towards the bed and sat down next to him. Leaning into his frame, you sniffed his neck and whispered, “Are you...Baekhyun don’t tell me you’re on something!”

Levelling his face with yours, he searched your eyes before flicking your forehead in response to your wild allegation. “Shut up! The audacity! You’re the one barging into my house in the middle of the day. Trespassing is prohibited!”

Confused, you pulled away from him and asked, “What are you saying?”

The corners of his lips drooped. Brows knit together, he replied, “You should’ve called first!”

His extremely out of character standoffishness made you uncomfortable. You were clearly not interrupting anything other than a helium infused gala which, truth be told, you were greatly annoyed at not being invited to. Neither were you inconveniencing him in any way. You were to simply fetch the electronic device and head home. And this wasn’t anything out of character for you either. You’d always felt free to walk into his goshiwon as you did your own. Yet, here he was, dark hair unkempt, dressed in his usual baggy clothes, accusing you - his best friend, his emergency contact, the one he moved cities with for University, the only one who had the passcode to his goshiwon - of breaking and entering. You knew Baekhyun since the day you’d learnt to walk and in all these years he’d made you feel a lot of emotions - happiness, sadness, mostly anger but not once had he made you feel unwelcome. 

Your heart sank to your stomach at this abrupt coldness.

“Baekhyun, you took my charger, remember? My phone died.” Fighting the lump in your throat, you explained politely and proceeded to rummage his desk drawers for the said item.

“Wait!” He came trotting after you barefooted as you dashed out of his room. He grabbed your wrist to hold you firmly in place. 

While you were no stranger to physical contact with Baekhyun, these past three months since your break up had started to get increasingly excruciating for you. A slight brush of his hand with yours sent tingles through your skin, made your cheeks flame, your legs turned to jelly, and alarms blared inside your head. At first you thought it was just your hormones messing with you - he was an attractive man and you’d only recently been deprived of love and attention but you’d slowly begun to realize it was something far beyond that. Something you had an inherent knowledge of but were not quite ready to confront yet. 

“I’m leaving.” You replied matter-of-factly. Yanking your hand free from his grasp, you didn’t bother to look at him. “Helium makes you stupid!” You yelled instead, and banged the main door shut behind you.

.

.

.

After a week of radio silence (though he was still clearly avoiding you at campus) Byun Baekhyun had finally started texting you again and you realized that he was now a changed man.

He'd gotten...boring.

Every morning he'd send you a no effort good morning text along with, lo and behold, weather updates! Bland messages ending with the same emoji. Mostly alternating between 'Good morning! Don't forget to wear a mask today, the fine dust level is scary! ☺️' and 'Good morning! Don't forget to carry an umbrella today, it might rain! ☺️'

You'd almost always reply with a disinterested 👍 but he remained undeterred. 

Now it was as if Baekhyun and Chanyeol came as a package. The duo seemed to be joined at the hip and they walked in the opposite direction every time they caught you approaching them. Movements frantic, whispering in each other’s ears as if they were plotting to start a rebellion to overthrow the Government. But the Morning Daily from Baekhyun remained unchanged. Until one day, you snapped and replied with an emoji depicting another special digit used to indicate an entirely different sentiment from the sweet old 👍.

.

.

.

Later that evening you were dressed up for a double date set up by your classmate Jiwoo, your only “friend” other than Baekhyun and Chanyeol. She was to introduce you to her boyfriend’s friend who she thought was your type. Not looking for anything more than just a stress free and light evening, you decided to dress to the nines, let your hair down, and forget all about Baekhyun’s pigheadedness. 

Dabbing on just a hint of blush along your cheekbones, you gave yourself a quick once over in the mirror. It was then that a familiar beeping reached your ears and you rushed out of your bedroom to greet the unexpected visitor with a snarky comment.

“Trespassing is prohibited!” Crossing your arms over your chest, you glared at Baekhyun through your glasses. Dressed in a black hoodie, head covered in the Nike cap you’d gifted him for his birthday, twirling a pen between his fingers he just stood there, smiling sheepishly with a bag from your favourite desserts cafe in his other hand. It seemed like he’d come straight to yours after his lectures.

His gaze hesitantly roved over you and he questioned softly, “Going somewhere?”

Slinging a shoulder bag on, you averted your eyes and remarked, “It’s none of your business.” 

“Yah! Don’t be like that”, he said with a soft chuckle yet his voice bore a hint of dejection and apology.

“That’s rich coming from you. Allow me to remind you how strange you and Chanyeol have been acting since the last two weeks!”

“I’m - I’m ready to..talk about it.” He quipped, awkwardly proceeding to put the box of desserts in the refrigerator. He then very comfortably took a seat at the kitchen table.

Hands on hips, you sauntered to the main door and shook your head, gesturing for him to leave. “Not today, Baek. I’m running late.”

He pulled back the chair next to his, and drummed his fingers on the table nervously. “Come sit. I won’t take too long. I promise.”

Letting out a deep sigh, you dragged your feet to the table and slumped into the chair.

“You look nice.” Lips stretched into a thin line, he stole a glance at you and said to his cuticles instead. 

“BAEKHYUN!”

“Okay..okay sorry… so the day you came home?”

“Please stop doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Drawing out sentences in a question.”

Inhaling deeply, a slightly irate Baekhyun replied, “I’m trying okay.”

“Listen, first of all I am really annoyed at not being invited to that helium balloon call? So I’d advise you to think twice before saying anything stupid. Tell me...why did you two think it was a good idea -”

Embarrassed, he interrupted to get that part of the discussion out of the way. “Chanyeol and I just wanted to know what we sounded like… over the phone, you know? We sounded..err...squeakier.”

“Okay...I hate to say this but ...makes sense, I guess? Why wasn’t I invited?”

“Because - ”

You leaned in closer, questioning eyes locked with his.

“Because -”

“Baek, I’m running late!”

“It’s because we were talking about you!”

“No? You were talking about politics -”

“Politics, weather and -”

‘The economy’ The two of you said in unison, face averted from each other to keep from laughing at the recent memory of Chanyeol’s oddly peculiar way of saying it.

“Yes..so Chanyeol and I were discussing how you probably don’t see me as a man? Like … a man man?”

Face scrunched into an expression of pure confusion, your mouth fell open to answer Baekhyun but no words came out. His lower lip had begun to wobble slightly and he rubbed his palms on his thighs before continuing. “He was of the opinion -”

“You’re literally the only one to ever pay heed to Loey’s opinions!”

“Yah! Don’t shit talk my Loey!”

“Yah! He’s my Loey too! Moving on”, pinching the bridge of your nose, you urged him to continue with a curt nod.

Baekhyun straightened his spine, threw his shoulders back and explained, “We had a thought.” 

“Both of you? The same one?”

“Ye-yes?”

“This is not going to end well. I can feel it in my bones.”

“Can you stop acting like you’re better than us? Just for a moment?”

“Fine! Go ahead.”

“We thought that it was about time you started to see me that way.”

“That way?”

“The way you used to look at your greasy vermin of an ex?”

“With sheer contempt and disgust?”

“That was after. I mean like before.” Hands balled into fists, Baekhyun looked at your expectantly.

“I don’t get it.”

He gave you an exaggerated smile as if to centre himself before throwing more vague questions your way. “What is the one thing - the only thing - I can actually cook?”

“Haejangguk?”

“Exactly! Do you get it now?”

“I have a thousand of reasons ...or ideas as to how you and Chanyeol would manage to relate Haejangguk with politics, weather, and the economy but I’d rather not dive into that cesspool. Instead I’ll allow you to explain.”

Baekhyun’s eyebrows shot up in concern as he explained softly, “Haejangguk helps with your hangovers. It took me fourteen tries to master! And it was Loey who ate every single spoilt batch. Without any complaints!”

“I wouldn’t say you’re any good at it even now but...sure whatever.” Rolling your eyes, you murmured.

Your phone chimed with a text from Jiwoo but before you could answer, Baekhyun snatched it from your hands and shoved it in the pocket of his hoodie.

“Pay attention. This is more important than that loser you’re going to meet.”

“Baekhyun!”

“No, I can’t do this anymore. I can’t watch you go from one idiot to another.”

“I’ve literally only dated two guys! Why are you suddenly getting territorial?”

“I am not getting territorial! What I’m saying is…  I spent these two weeks rehearsing the right thing to say to you but - screw that! And listen. You cannot do this anymore!”

“Do what?”

“You cannot waltz into my thoughts anytime you like! For instance I’m eating a tangerine, I think of how it would magically taste sweeter if I could only share it with you. Your face suddenly flashes before my eyes and I lose my mind while I’m doing the most mundane things like riding the subway or having a meal or talking to someone. I go grocery shopping and the first thing I pick up is strawberry milk and it’s not even my favourite! But I bought a whole damn carton because you love strawberry milk! I have cucumbers! Cucumbers! In my fridge because what if you crave oi muchim with your ramen some day and woe betide me if I DO NOT HAVE CUCUMBERS! I waste 4,050 Won every week on cucumbers but it DOES NOT MATTER because it would be nothing short of a tragedy if you want something and I can’t give it to you. Like, have you looked at yourself when you get upset? When your lips stretch into a thin line and your eyes ever so slightly lose their sparkle. It makes me want to pluck the bloody stars from the sky and lay them at your feet if it means that I can make you smile again. Do you know how warm you are? I mean, like, physically warm. Especially when you’ve woken up from a nap. So, so warm. I feel like wrapping you in my arms, putting your head on my chest and just...staying like that. Freezing the moment in time. Freezing the moment in time! Look at what you’ve done to me! I'm saying these cheesy things and I'm doing boring things like studying politics and understanding the state of affairs and keeping up with fine dust levels just so that you see me differently! So that I can somehow make you believe that you can rely on me. Think of me as more than just a friend who used to pull your pigtails back in the day.” 

The beat of your heart boomed in your ears. You hugged your coat tighter around yourself as if to conceal its conspicuous sound. Your throat felt dry and your spine liquified in the face of his overwhelming confession. You had a million things to say to him. And there was one specific thing you were dying to do the moment your eyes landed on his soft, strawberry pink lips.

Eyebrow cocked, you said in a low whisper. “Why not buy a jar of oi muchim instead? It’ll surely last longer than a week.” 

He buried his face in his hands and let out a shallow, pained wail and continued. “I'm done.” He looked up at you. Eyes droopy, lips pouty. “Put me out of my misery. Look, if you don't like me back the way I like you just ...forget that I said any of this. We can go back to being what we were at 7 o’clock. It's 7:30 now, we can rewind, 30 minutes. But don't...don't...what the hell how can you just sit there and act like you're watching a freaking movie. React! Say something! Actually...don't! Oh my god this is a trainwreck! I had rehearsed the right thing to say...but I got distracted by the indentations on the corners of your lips..I think I'm having a full blown breakdown… I just want to - ugh!"

"You just want to what, Baekhyunnie?"

You took his fists in your hands, eased them open and laced your fingers with his.

He clamped his eyes shut, slouched to make himself small, and muttered. "Don't call me that!"

Giggling softly, you repeated, "Baekhyunnie?"

Baekhyun flicked his eyes open. Unabashedly studying the curve of your lips, he whispered ‘Stop.’ His hand gently rested on your cheek, eyes seeking approval. You nodded in response, feeling your face flame. His honeyed gaze darkened as he leaned in closer, a sweet scent of bubblegum wafting in the space between you. His hand found the back of your neck, lips ever so slightly parted. Finding his movements excruciatingly slow you gravitated towards him while your breath hitched in your throat. He took your hand and placed it on his chest as his silken lips melted into yours. He held you like you were fragile, like he was experiencing the sensation of your skin on his for the very first time, committing every slight brush, every single touch to memory. You felt the wild hammering of his heart against your fingers despite the thickness of his cozy hoodie, your own reacting in likeliness. 

Baekhyun held you by your shoulders and gently pulled away, breaking the most delectable first kiss you’d ever had. Tilting his head to the side he looked at you briefly before making vague hand gestures and shaking his head. He opened his mouth to say something but found himself at a loss for words. Face flushed, he opened his mouth again after a while only to clamp it shut. 

Byun Baekhyun was processing.

After having had your fun with his perplexity, you smiled at him and raised an eyebrow questioningly, prodding him to speak.

“So...does this mean we’re?” He asked, voice faintly tremulous.

Pursing your lips to stifle a giggle you teased, “Yeah?”

“Am I your...I mean...are you my….girl-girlfriend?” Averting his eyes from yours, he inquired, while shyly rubbing the back of his neck.

Half shrugging, you answered, “Depends.”

Baekhyun’s face fell. “Depends?!” He exclaimed, almost in falsetto.

"Depends on whether you want to continue sending me daily weather updates.” You deadpanned.

“This feels like a trick question.”

“Yes or no?”

“N-no?”

“Then, yes. Byun Baekhyun, congratulations, you’ve earned the unequivocal and irrevocable right to call me your girlfriend.”

“Does it mean that you didn’t like the new and improved version of me?” He asked hesitantly, face clouded over with caution.

“That wasn’t the Baekhyunnie I fell for.”

“Yah!” Surprised at your sudden blurry confession, his eyes grew into large brown circles but the moment his gaze met with yours, his expression softened again. He smiled sheepishly and spoke tenderly, “Okay...noted. You too can call me your”, he cleared his throat, took your hand in his, placed a soft kiss on it and used his most dulcet voice to say, “boyfriend.”

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

A/N: hello, hello @you-did-well-moon​ hope you enjoyed this very cheesy confession from Baekhyun! 

@exolssecretsanta​

[avengershumanresources]

blood 7 - Strange/Stark!Reader

Relationship: Dr. Strange/Princess!Stark!Reader

Rating: M

Warnings: Adult Themes, eventual smut, adult language, implied sexual violence, general violence

Synopsis: Reader is the daughter of the legendary King Anthony Stark, Uniter of Lands, The Iron Defender, and leader of the realm. When the king disappears during battle, hope is lost and he is presumed dead.

When the late king’s uncle, Obadiah, takes the throne until your brother Peter is of age, he quickly arranges a marriage for you with a wicked king in a neighboring kingdom.

With the realms politics in question, and rumors of an upcoming siege to overthrow Peter’s rule before it starts, you quickly learn who is loyal to the crown and who is not.

part 6 - part 8 (coming April 13th)

Masterlist

Chapter Playlist

CHAPTER WARNING: Yee-har, thar be smut afoot in this here chapter. 18+

7- a king

Anthony Stark hadn’t expected all of this to come of his death. He foresaw of some of it.  

Of Obadiah’s imminent betrayal and Brock’s general ambition, but when Wanda had approached him with her vision all those years ago, he couldn’t have understood what it all meant. 

Now, however, he realized the violence that was soon to arrive at his kingdom’s doorstep. It was an uneasy feeling; the responsibility bestowed upon him to put men’s lives at risk. To make widows and orphans because of inter family squabbles. 

But Tony knew that Obadiah and Brock both presented far larger threats in the long term. 

A king who is hungry for power will never stop to consider the least fortunate in his rule. 

It was a mantra Tony had created for himself after his father had let entire villages fall to win back some petty golden toy during the War of the Giants. In the end, the lives lost had been worthless and the giants returned to their mountains with more spoils than they’d started. 

It had made him sick. 

That was the moment Tony decided to be a better man. A better king. He took pride in his unselfish rule and lack of war among those who shared the boundary with his kingdom. By a miracle he’d gotten Brock into line, but Obadiah had gotten a taste of power from his position in the Giant’s War and wanted more.

Rumors turned to plots, and all at once Tony knew his family and legacy was in danger. He had a troubled relationship with the Wakandans after one of his own barons killed their king in a quest for vengeance after the Giant’s War. Steve had volunteered as ambassador with the shadowy James Barnes (who’d long had a positive relationship with T’Challa) and they’d managed to broker a deal benefiting both nations. 

And Asgard. 

That was a whole other bag of complications. 

Odin had long been distrustful of Tony’s first wife, the late Queen Alexandra due to her Vanir lineage. The Asgardians had fought for centuries trying to eradicate what they’d seen as a dangerous race of uncontrollable magic users. 

Odin had been a step in the right direction, after replacing his late father, but the prejudices still remained and Tony’s marriage to one of the few remaining Vanir royals had soured what little relations they’d had. 

Still, in the end, they’d protected you when he so desperately needed help the Asgardians could only provide. To that, he’d offered her hand to the princes, and Odin took the offer into consideration, only backing off when an agreement was made between the two boys and yourself that affections lay elsewhere.

Which brought him to his latest challenge. Your engagement to the monster king, Brock Rumlow. 

The popular story was that he’d had his late wife killed when she hadn’t produced a male heir. Every female baby prior had been fed to the dogs and at last, when her fifth pregnancy had yielded yet another female, she fell mysteriously ill and died a few nights later. Some say a villager found the baby’s water logged corpse shortly after. 

From a strategic perspective, it made sense. You hadn’t been called upon by any serious suitors, often running around the kingdom with a begrudging Stephen on your coattails, and you were still young enough to bare a child or two. 

Brock needed a means of securing trust in the kingdom, and marrying one of its beloved daughters was the way to do it. Not to mention, Obadiah got his army, Peter would be overthrown when he attempted to take his birthright, and both men would share in the mutual benefits of being involved in one of the strongest economies in history. 

It was a clear cut plan for control of the kingdom, and it would have been more than enough for Tony to take action.

Except for one small caveat.

You. 

You’d been born of the same Vanir blood as your mother and even as a days old infant, you had shown the Master Sorceress at the time an insurmountable measure of power. 

It was an old and finicky magic, the woman had warned before your mother’s body had even cooled in bed. You would need trining, but there was no one left to provide. 

The Asgardians had been thorough in destroying the ancient texts and any remaining Vanir had long fallen into hiding, often using enchanted amulets and trinkets to conceal their seidr from those with wicked intentions. 

Your mother had been a victim of such vicious greed. She’d been open with her abilities, sharing a close bond with Orin’s own wife and his young son, Loki. The pair had conspired to learn all the forbidden secrets of the Vanir, and she’d begun to accumulate quite the library of resources from old temples and Asgardian burial tombs. 

Frigga helped her translate and in turn, the relationship with the royal families had warmed considerably until a few days before your birth. 

Things had fallen apart so quickly. The Northern Kree empire had infiltrated the castle after hearing rumors of the queen’s power. Someone had once written that a single drop of Vanir blood was worth thousands in gold pieces. A bandit had gotten through the gates while she labored, he had ambushed her in the birthing chambers and despite putting up an admirable fight- died with a dagger stabbed through her heart. 

The beast had tried to cut it free in front of the midwives. 

The Master Sorceress had only stepped from the room a moment to freshen up her herbal remedies. By the time anyone had made it to her side, she had died, and you’d been cut free of her with that same knife. 

“Your majesty?” Wanda inquired, approaching where he sat by the fire of the rebellion campsite.

“Yes?” He blinked up, returning to the present at hand. The men who were preparing for battle around him. The women sharpening weapons and sewing leather.  

The people he had asked to rise up for the betterment of the kingdom. The people who were prepared to die by his side for a secure future. 

“Master Strange is to meet at my cottage in the hour,” she explained. 

“And what would you advise Master Sorceress?” he asked, an amused expression on his face. “Shall we let him in on our secret?” 

“With less than seven days to the wedding, it might be wise,” she reasoned sardonically. “Natalia has her own mission in securing the support from within. Master Strange is working with Peter and Loki on securing the vulnerable.” 

“Do you think he told him?” Tony looked down at the fire pensively. 

“Who?” 

“Loki,” he clarified. “He and Master Mordo were among the few who knew. They had to have mentioned something to him. He’s- well- I’m not entirely sure what he is to her now, but he’s certainly one of the closest lines of protection to her.”

“Assuming the rune hasn’t already faded, I would think he either told him or Stephen found out for himself, my liege,” Wanda sat down on the log next to time, her gaze following his into the flames. “Her power is what Amora desires. It needs to be concealed until the princess is in safe hands.”

“Then he knows,” Tony decided, nodding to himself. “Amora would have done something stupid if the seidr had broken through completely. Someone is keeping it under control.”

“I’ll find out,” Wanda promised. “Would you like to speak to him?”

Tony made a disgruntled noise at the thought of approaching the sorcerer. House Strange had long served under the Stark banner, proudly riding at the front of the line when called upon for battle. When they sent their oldest to train at Kamar-Taj, Tony had been surprised.

The boy had a knack for strategy and was sharp as a needle point. Tony could have seen the young man easily rise in leadership in the house, ruling his own militiamen and managing the family affairs. 

But apparently he had no interest in it, and in an unorthodox fashion, the assets had been passed to their eldest daughter. 

Granted, in the end, none of that mattered- as the entire family estate had been stricken by a particularly nasty plague. The sole survivor was Stephen, who’d been away at Kamar-Taj when he’d gotten the news. 

He’d rushed home, and in the process gotten sick himself, but with the help of his fellow sorcerers, recovered with the only remnants of the illness remaining in his hands. He often told others it had been a riding accident. Only a select few knew the truth and devastation of his loss. 

Tony had met with the young man on his sickbed, assuring him the assets would remain in the family. That the castle would maintain the property while he fulfilled his obligations to Kamar-Taj. After all, there was no greater calling than to a life of service and compassion. It was the least Tony could do. 

Well, until you had scared off every Master to cross the castle threshold and he’d gotten desperate and asked the boy for a favor.

He should have known better. You were close in age. Equally as ambitious and cunning. For years you’d been sneaking through passages and around the villages at night, often with Natalia at your side. 

Stephen just made it easier, and helped Tony rest a little easier knowing the man would give his life for you, if need be. 

Tony wasn’t dumb. He’d seen it the first night the you had met. 

The sneaking smiles, the conspiratorial whispers in the corners of the ballroom, and when Peter’s cat turned into a lion almost identical to the Stark sigil, Tony knew that one day he might allow that young man to break the oaths he’d made for a single exception. 

“Your highness?” Wanda pried gently for a clearer answer. 

“Yes, I’ll speak to him,” he pinched the bridge of his nose. About a great many things.

(—)

“I somehow don’t believe you just found out about this,” you stated, sitting cross legged on one of the strewn about cushions, a teapot floating delicately from the palm of your hand. 

“I’ve learned a number of thing recently,” he replied dryly. “Like Mordo is alive, and Brock wants to kill Obadiah once you’re wed.”

You lost your focus and the cup shattered on the ground. 

“He what?” you gaped at Stephen while he repaired the ceramic cup with a wave of his hand. 

“It ties into the whole secret magic thing, but it really isn’t an ideal situation,” he explained, setting the cup aside and dropping to the cushion across from you. 

“I guess it’s good I’ve pestered you for your books over the years,” you mused, flexing your fingers in the air in front of you.

“It isn’t the same,” he sighed, watching while you lifted a few other stray objects and paused them between the two of you. “Seidr is... there isn’t documentation. The books were destroyed. Kamar-Taj had a few tomes but the Vanir language is nearly impossible to translate at this point.”

“What about Loki? Or Frigga?” you asked, moving both your hands at once and dropping a feather into his lap with a grin. 

“Believe it or not, I’ve been focused on other issues,” he muttered dryly. “We’re going to have to seal this before you leave.”

“But you said it’s what preventing Amora from taking over my head,” you reminded him pointedly, summoning a small flame from an incantation you’d studied the day before. Extinguishing it between your palms, you looked up at him for a better excuse. 

“But it is also the reason Brock is forcing you into a marriage and so she can control you, and in turn, your power better than you can,” he explained tersely. “She can’t know you’ve gotten partial control over it. Let her underestimate you, but until you can learn to conceal the energy yourself, you can’t risk exposure.”

“So am I being sealed or not?” you asked impatiently, floating a candle from you to him. He took it with an amused half-smile, extinguishing the light with a quick puff of air. “Can you do a... half seal? Hide the energy, keep some of the good parts?”

“Gods, I don’t know,” he groaned, shaking his head while he seat the canclde aside. “This is entirely new territory that I was not trained for.”

“That must mean you’re a terrible Sorcerer Supreme. What fool put you in charge?” you teased, reaching forward and tapping the top of his nose playfully. 

“It’s not my fault you’re a freakish anomaly that’s supposed to be extinct,” he mumbled, pulling a frown while you laughed. “Give me your wrist.”

“Fine, but when this over I demand you help me train properly,” you stated and though he  continued grumbling under his breath about being too old for your games, he agreed. “And Loki helps too.”

“Not part of the deal,” Stephen scowled. 

“Fine, I’ll marry him then,” you smirked back at him. “You still haven’t asked, so I guess when my wedding tragically falls through, I’ll have to find respite with him.”

He pulled you forward, a glint in his eyes that sent a shiver through your entire body. 

“I’m not going to chase after a betrothed woman, it’s bad taste,” he hummed, fingers crawling up your wrist and intertwining with your fingers. “I have a reputation to uphold, even if you feel comfortable hiding away with strange men in dark places.”

“Is that supposed to be a joke?” you whispered, sitting up on your knees and tilting your head.

“Do you not think I’m funny?” he murmured, reaching with his free head and tilting back your chin. A smile played on the corners of your mouth, both of you sizing the other up and daring the other to make the first move. 

“I can think of many things you are,” you lifted his hand and pressed a tender kiss to his palm. “But funny?”

“You laugh at all of my clever wit, don’t try to deceive me princess, I know the truth,” Stephen sharply pulled your hand forward, forcing you to fall into his chest. He held your lower back, gazing down at you adoringly. “You’re trying to hide it, but I see it in your eyes.”

“Do you know what I see in your eyes?” your voice cracked ever so slightly, your hand cradling his cheek, your thumb lightly tracing the sharp features. 

“What do you see?” 

“Strength,” you murmured, transfixed by his opalescent gaze. All at once, it was like you were seeing him for the first time. You could feel the energy radiating off of him, seeing the waves of magic as they ripples through his body. “Devotion to... Stephen you’re beautiful.”

“Or so the stars whisper to the earth below,” his voice was soft, gentle, while his hand guided itself up your arm to your cheek. “But, what the stars do not see is their own radiance, their own ethereal light shimmering across the velvet heavens above. The stars do not know how the Earth worships the very flicker of their existence, tells stories of their magnificence and beauty. The do not know how the Earth finds its meaning in what little time it steals away to them in the night.”

It all happened very quickly after that. 

You peeled at his robes, he worked at your corset, a frenzy of hands and mouths tasting one another in a way neither had ever imagined. 

Discarding the corset, he worked his hands up your blouse, fingers lightly teasing the tip of your nipple until you let out a satisfied moan. Robes loose, you pushed him back against a nearby pile of cushions, climbing between his legs and peppering hungry kisses up and down his neck until he growled, clawing at your hips. 

“If you’re-,” he tired protesting while you pulled away more clothing, pressing his leg between yours and letting out a whimper of pleasure when he shifted in just the right way. 

That seemed to set something off in him. 

He was over you, flipping you to the ground and pulling what little clothing remained between you, your naked bodies now flush. Stephen moved down to your breast, drawing a nipple between his teeth and watching you squirm under him at the incredible sensation. 

“Please,” you mewed, an absolute wreck under him. 

He took his time, moving to the other nipple and repeating his actions until you were begging for any kind of release. 

“Needy are we?” he murmured in your ear, his voice low and so controlled, you couldn’t understand how he could stand it. Goosebumps erupted over your body, and he just smirked, continuing his exploration.  

Teasing a finger at your entrance, he looked to you for final approval before easing the digit into you. 

“Gods,” he hissed, moving the finger at an agonizingly slow speed. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes upon.”

He caught you in a kiss, speeding up his hand below, his thumb searching for the sensitive nub of nerves. When he grazed over the tender area, you nearly shot out of yourself, the sensation feeling downright sinful. 

Pulling his finger out, you let out another whimper, this one of protest at the emptiness inside of you. 

“Are you certain-?” he asked again, eyes scanning your face for any sign of hesitation or doubt. 

“I’ve never been more certain of anything,” you replied honestly. It wasn’t an exaggeration. You’d been a make up to this point, untouched and with no interest in engaging in such outrageous behavior.

Yet with him, you wished you could give more. Your body. Your soul. Your love. What did it matter anymore? He was yours, sitting before you and showing you through his loving car assess and sensations you’d never known before this moment. 

He eased himself in, giving you time to adjust to his length, the member much larger than his single finger. But Gods, did he feel incredible. 

You’d never thought so much emotion and pleasure could occur in a single moment. For this tiny hidden corner of the universe, you felt like your souls had collided and merged. 

It was a far cry from how Nat had told you it was. 

This was- you anticipated each of his movements, raising your hips to meet his as he crashed inside of you. Your brain couldn’t form coherent thoughts and when he started to coax something feral from within your core, you let him lead you through it. 

Pumping in time with strokes to your clit, you clenched your walls around him, pulling a hissed curse from the sorcerer. 

A few more pumps and a final circle around the sensitive area and you felt your orgasm crash over you. 

At first, you thought you’d done something wrong. Did you break something? How did this feel so incredible and overwhelming all at once? 

While you rode out your bliss, you felt his hips tighten, finishing with a final grunt.

You both stated at one another, eyes wide, trying to catch your breath. 

“Have you-,” you started but paused. “Like that before-?” 

It was no secret Stephen wasn’t exactly a virgin. He had his vows but they were against attachment, not sex, and sometimes, as he put it, the spirit needed to be revitalized. 

You’d called him a creep and moved on, but Gods did you understand now. 

“I don’t know what happened,” he blinked, looking thoroughly bewildered. “That’s... I’ve never- my gods, you’re incredible.”

He pulled out, dropping to the ground next to you with a huff. 

“I have a potion,” he muttered, pointing to the table above them. “Prevents pregnancy.”

“And here I thought you were devoted to me,” you poked him in the rib and he just laughed. 

“I am,” he insisted. “However, I’m not devoted enough to end up in the gallows for deflowering a princess who is betrothed to a ruthless king. My apologies, my grace.”

“Hm, I’m sure I can find someone willing to make that sacrifice for me,” you hummed. 

“And a fool he will be,” he leaned up on his elbow. “I still win the day. He would be hanged and I still get my princess.”

“Your princess?” 

“Has it been any other way?” he asked, quirking a brow. “Truly, if I’m mistaken, tell me. I don’t want to sound too over ambitious.”

You considered it briefly. Had it? 

No, you knew from the moment you spied those eyes at the ball welcoming him to the castle that he was your future. You just hadn’t realized what that meant at the time. 

There was no world, no life, where you could live without him by your side. 

The thought sobered you quickly, your upcoming nuptials springing to mind, the spell locking you in your private world, now lifted. 

“Would you have asked my father?” you asked. 

“In another life, we would have been married by now,” he answered earnestly. “I’m a fool for having hesitated and nearly missed my chance at an eternity by your side.” 

“And Brock?” you asked, the name leaving a sour taste in your mouth. Stephen’s expression darkened at mention of the man. 

“I’ll kill him before he touches you,” he vowed. “I will not yield your heart to such a monster, and I will stop this. I cannot risk you leaving my side. Not again, my love.”

You leaned forward and kissed him, soft, intimate, and gentle. Stephen wasn’t a fighter. 

Certainly he could fight, but you knew him well enough to know that violence was a last option after all other options had been tried. And here he was preparing to declare a one man war on your betrothed. 

Truly, the heavens were smiling upon you in this life.

(—)

Later that evening, when Stephen had returned you safely to your quarters, he met with Wanda at her cottage at the edge of the woods to discuss the next steps in the plan. 

When she caught sight of him, her expression shifted from confused to elated to-

“What is it?” he asked, knowing she’d gotten a read of what he’d been up to previously. 

“Do well to conceal your thoughts,” she warned, leading him inside. 

“Conceal what-?” he asked after her, stopping in his tracks when he saw Anthony sitting at her table, sipping at a large horn of water. 

Tony stood up, giving the man a once over, brows raised as he took him in. 

“You couldn’t wait until the wedding night?” he grumbled, dropping back down in his chair with a long sigh. 

(—)

8- a secret

TAG LIST (message to be added!):

@ayamenimthiriel​ @ladynothing

@im-a-bi-disaster-help @idkwhatthisislol

[soranihimawari]

Anywhere Away from Here

word count: 4k

ratings: pg-17 (allusions to sex, not explicit)// SFW piece [nsfw tba]

category: hurt/comfort in one scene// fluff all the way through

pairing: kuroo x (f!)reader, university years.

he'd actually make a great addition to any association including the JVA, but that's my opinion.

“I don’t think this is such a good idea Tetsu-kun,” you say.

There is an ounce of authoritative rebellion in your voice. You were in the chemistry lab at your university dressed in full lab gear. The experiment on the board was one of tracking chemical reactions nicknamed the “firework experiment.” Liquified elements in different flasks were scattered throughout the work station, so naturally after the lab was completed with notes and results recorded, your lab partner had a mischievous smirk on his face. There were extra tongue depressors in front of the open flame and Kuroo decided now would be a great time to make his own colors with you.

The lab tech (TA) was well aware of what he was going to try to do, so you were surprised when the tech didn’t stop him. Kuroo’s gloved hands mixed the tongue depressors with various chemicals and right before he ignited the first one, he asked you what colors you think he just made.

“Cobalt blue,” you muse. “Followed by hmm… maybe lime green?”

The colors Kuroo made were gone in a flash and the lab tech cleared their throat, causing you to laugh softly before ripping the lab report out of the notebook. You excuse yourself after turning it into the basket on the front desk as you mention to Kuroo you’d see him in the library the day after tomorrow to help him with his foreign language class.

The following days came and left in a flash and now you’re in the library with an empty chair in front of you and you are re-reading the equation to yourself in an effort to focus. There is a disturbance you overhear from the aisle behind you. A fellow young student was being scolded for misinterpreting the dinner fiasco and even through the whispered yelling, you could tell one (if not both) of them would escape unscathed. The now ‘ex’-partner runs their palm over their face and you take it as a sign perhaps now is not the best time to study the refined laws of thermodynamics and switch to the foreign language worksheets opting instead to at least open your phone for a quick test.

To: Kuroo ^(T^T)^ (delivered 15:42): are you at the campus library rn?

no, but i can be. [delivered 15:43]: yn-chibi << frm

The familiar text tone for your lab partner in the next aisle down from where you saw the other student haughtily stormed off from makes you stack your stuff into a neat pile before you make the short trip round the corner. Kuroo is leaning against the shelves, surprisingly calm although you know he doesn’t want you to tell him “I told you so.” Instead, you motion for him to bend down to your height, to which he complies.

“I’m only going to do this once, ok?”

He bums in agreement, hair rigidly blowing under the closest seat out vents. Your palm is open when you set it on your lean partner’s licorice locks. Moving side to side like a parent comforting a child, you don’t witness how red jokes cheeks become and make no comment on how red the tips of his ears are.

You’re comforting him and he believes he owes you an apology. For now, you recite an old text your okaa-san taught you. And it gets him to chuckle, so you pause your ministrations, only to have him bring your hand back atop his head.

“I like this,” you almost didn’t catch what he says, but you know he sneaks a glance or three at you. You seemed a bit fatigued with your workload piling on, so you recite the same text in French, your obaa-san’s language.

“Did you really have to recite the Grey Jedi Code in French too?”

You aggressively roll your eyes at your classmate, walking back to your table mentioning something along the lines of, “you asked me to tutor you in exchange for your help in thermodynamics…”

You pause your steps for a moment, turning three-quarters around, observing the sun set shine in his golden eyes: “but it did get you to laugh, right?”

Kuroo Tetsuro is a man of many talents and he often wonders if this was how the fates were going to test him. There was a party he was interested in attending. Bokuto had just rung him up saying that he passed the last couple of tryouts and finally received a call from one of the teams. The pub wasn’t too far where Akaashi still attended his last few semesters of college. Apparently the members of the new team his best owl buddy was signed on to rented the private dining hall above the bar as an extent to welcome the friends and family to the newly signed players. Bokuto asked Akaashi to attend the he dialed Kuroo, this is what you learned about instead of the fourth law of thermodynamics and you nearly clocked Kuroo with a wadded up piece of notebook paper at his student apartment.

“You contacted me to also ask my opinion about which tie you want to wear for this party?”

“Well, yeah. I’m going to go support my best friend and maximize my time by networking with different professionals from the Japanese Volleyball Association.”

You hand him a navy pocket square and suggest wearing no tie because it would clash with the suit he pulled off enticingly well. You make a joke that if this plan ultimately goes awry, he could be a catalogue model for campus pamphlets.

“Go,” you said. “Or else you’d be late.”

You’re still in your casual loungewear of jeans and a shirt, your flats are right next to the indoor welcome mat and Kuroo doesn’t stop you from walking out his front door when his rideshare notification rings on his phone.

The celebration party was amazing from the photos Kuroo sent you. There was strawberry champagne, hordevours, and the last photo you receive is a selfie taken by an amused Kuroo sandwiched between five other volleyball players whom you’re told are Bokuto, Akaashi (now an author, still watches for fun), ‘Tsum-twum, Hinata, and Sakusa.

have fun, don't stay out too late. :[delivered 21:22]: yn-chibi << frm

“Oooh, who’s that?” Bokuto sheepishly blinks hovering over the phone in Kuroo’s hand. “She’s really pretty.” The envelope letter moves a bit, mentioning that you’re going to turn in early.

“She’s my lab partner,” Kuroo said. He doesn’t notice the affectionate smile he gives when he sends his reply to you.

“Either you’re drunk, or,” Akaashi ponders while Hinata nods accordingly. “You really care about ‘yn-chibi’…”

Kuroo stays at the party for a few more hours, Akaashi’s words weighed heavy on his mind, yet he masks it with a fun-loving personality and once he gives it more thought, perhaps the old setter from Fukurodani should dabble in shojou manga storyboarding. He leaves the pub a little after one in the morning, reassuring his friends that he did have a good time and perhaps in the future, in a not so formal setting, he’d bring you along.

Presently, Kuroo stares at his phone. His fingers slide to unlock it and are hovering over your contact information. Is he really going to tempt the odds in his favor? An annoyed sigh slips through his lips when he presses the green button.

“Kuroo? Wh-what time s’it?”

Your drowsing voice is always so attractive to his ears. He asks you where you are and you reassure him you’re ok enough to come over. On your end, you grab the essentials: phone, wallet, and lanyard (with your keys).

If there is truth behind your actions, Kuroo doesn’t hesitate when your fist knocks on his door. His jacket ends up on one of the bar stools in his kitchen when he unlocks the door and you lean in the doorway, hoodie on and yoga leggings on. You wear an exasperated look thinking you might be interrupting whatever a tom cat does at this hour; your eyes are wild with peeved anger because you’re about to give him a piece of your mind.

“You’ve got some nerve calling me,” you hold up your most recent calls list. Kuroo stands to the side, making room for you to walk inside, once you make it to his kitchen, he closes the door. You help yourself to a glass of water as he approaches you in a much more timid way.

“Are you ok?”

Even if you look like your mental definition of ‘hell,’ his hand still finds a way to wrap behind his neck rubbing the base of his hair. You walk over to him after you fill another glass of water meant for him. Offering it up to his free hand, you sit on his ottoman extension for the couch piece his family bought him when he moved to this side of the city.

“No,” his voice is suddenly unsure. “No, I’m not.”

You hang your head and you do the same hand sign for him to join you. Moving from the ottoman to the couch proper is done when the light fixture from the kitchen is obscured by the former captain. You sit upright and he lays himself down on your lap, his head turns away from you afraid to see Akaashi’s words ring true. You don’t fawn over your lab partner contrary to popular belief, and Kuroo hides the fact that you hold some sort of power over him. You teach him valuable phrases in your shared foreign language course and he still drones on about the firework experiment leading into the talk about thermodynamics and how his heart nearly burns every time he sees you.

“You have a crush on this lab partner,” Kenma reminds him on their weekly phone calls.

“…Who said I didn’t?” Kuroo retorts.

“You can’t hide it from me, it’s like I’m watching you play an Otome game or something…”

The hand he had rested on the nape of neck falls limply at his side; the water glasses remain emptied on the counter without the coasters an old entrepreneur gave him from last semester’s club week. With him laying down on you, you make no comment about how his legs sort of dangle over the edge of one of the arms thereby closing his eyes the second you start running your hand through his hair. There were a multitude of times the ever self-proclaimed chemistry genius gets baffled by the battle going on, even if the answer is so simple. You sing the opening bars of, ‘The Stairway to Beauty,’ before humming the rest of the melody, your hand still runs through the seas of black that is his hair.

“…Les escaliers de la butte/ Sont durs aux miséreux

Les ailes des moulins /Protègent les amoureux…”

This eases the tension in his shoulders as his breathing evens out, you stop running the hand you had in his hair. You opt to let him sleep off whatever was troubling him, although you have gained an insight you probably should have predicted. The dawn is rising several hours later, and somehow, you wake up to a rather sleeping handsome cat, making you feel a bit soft.

“Morning sleepy kitty,” you whisper into his ear. He must have turned over at some point and his arms protectively wrap around your waist. Your hoodie made for a great pillow, so when he eventually wakes up, he returns your hazy glaze with a small smirk. In the mezzo forte of the dawn hours, you two exchanged star-crossed stares. Neither of you say anything when he releases his hold on you as he maneuvers to make an effort to sit up properly. He offers to buy you breakfast for your troubles as he refills your water glasses from the night before.

“Coming over to help a friend is hardly ‘trouble’ Tetsu,” your voice is more awake at the moment as you stretch your arms above your head. “Also, who wears their suit to bed like that?”

“If you must know,” Kuroo begins when you take the glass in your hands. “I think I look pretty dapper.”

“Oya?”

You chug your water as you rise up from the couch. He begins to walk backward when he sees you take a step in his direction. The glass you used is placed on the kitchen counter.

“Oya,oya?”

A beat of silence passes, forcing you to witness the alert shine in his eyes making the object of his affection reflect you. He reaches out to hold your hand to pull you a bit closer as friends should.

“Is it too much if I’m sor—!” his voice is silenced when he feels your lips atop his. The sensation is gone in a flash, and

“Oya,” your voices intermingle. Your eyes are beginning to close again, his lips pursed over your own just to be sure if he read you clearly. Your hand adjusts to firmly hold his, rightly keeping him in place.

“Don’t apologize,” you say this with eyes open and they dance around the features of a face you’ve known from earlier only now is it aglow with a rose quartz hue. "I'm pretty sure you'd have kissed me anyway at some point...huh?"

Kuroo clears his throat, mentioning something about changing out of his ‘formal’ clothes. He hands you his phone with a breakfast to-go menu. Fifteen minutes go by and you finish adding your items to the list, Kuroo steps out of his bedroom, hair a bit damp still. You’ve been here only a handful of times, yet this time, you sort of see a pastiche of gray. He found his old Nekoma navy (well it used to be black) shirt and ADIDAS red line jogging pants. The material makes his legs sound like a ‘swish’ every step he takes, you stifle an audible laugh, however he calls you out laughing with your eyes instead.

“Well, with breakfast on the way now,” you said after he places his phone face down on the counter, you lean casually against the same island-esc kitchen table. “Do you want to talk about last night?”

Kuroo asked if you’re sure your major was your own because you’d make one hell of a reporter.

“My friend has his eye on this person,” he begins. There isn’t really much else as you go along with his whole speech about how his friend tried to show her the fireworks during tutoring hours before their next lab class, there is someone his friend is talking to who ultimately picks up the subtlest hints perhaps this relationship of theirs is doomed from the start, then when his friend is out at a party (‘get together’) one of the acquaintances made a comment that had said friend question everything from the start.

“You’re projecting,” you deduce. “You could have just avoided this whole torment on your subconscious if you had asked me straight up. I may be bit hard to read from time to time, but navigating your feelings on your own is something I think you ought to do. Why do you think we kept journals growing up?”

Kuroo scoffs, remembering the one time he made an offhand comment about why would anyone just want to run around with a diary in tow, thus prompting you to recall the first time he told you about reading his sister’s diary. He sits on the barstool and he gives you a side glance.

“You keep journals?” He inquires.

“Only for the important people in my life,” you answered with a cheeky tone. “But I don’t think I need one with you. If you’d like.”

“Say less.”

He leans too far to the left and you catch him, with an utterance of an ‘oof.’ Your hearts beat in time this round.

“It’s a stalemate,” you reason. His hands anxiously tremble when he moves to wrap them around the small of your back, yours support him in the same way.

“Such a silly cat,” you hear yourself say. “Just because today you have to embrace the grays last night, you can see the sunrise more clearly.”

There is a comforting touch he saw when he is pressed this close to you for the fourth time: “you’re worthy of love too, dapper boy.”

His back tenses when the words you say unfiltered makes him keep you at arm’s length. Graham cracker eyes coated in a honeyed ochre scour your face for doubt.

“In my seventh life,” he hooks an index finger under your chin, a toothy grin on his face. “Perhaps this is the time I found a version of ludus…”

“Ah, I see,” your voice is as gentle as the eastern wind, tantalizing the shoreline.

Impulsively, Kuroo lures you in, slotting his lips against your own. His hand moves from your chin to support the left side of your face, and as you lean into his touch, you acknowledge, leaning into his love a bit more than you should when you begin to return this kiss. Your grip on his shirt holds when you guide him to turn the tides; both of you can feel the grins you wear when you turn your head to the opposite side. Kuroo, still actively kisses you with arduous intent when he creates a small distance, but it was enough for your hand closest to his shoulder to slip under his arm and have it linger on his sternum. His heart is racing with yours, a chortle, swallowing your gasp when you test the waters with him, biting his top lip.

“Hah,” he makes a sound you often wondered about when he was with whatever her name was from the library, but with you, there is a genuine sincerity when you make him give in to what either of you desired. Your mouth opens slightly more, tasting a bit of the remnants of the whiskey sours from last night mixed with a bit of mint; this is nothing like the fireworks lab you did. He traces the shape of your teeth, and he knew he was attempting to apologize for leaving you behind last night. Kuroo comes to the conclusion ludus lovers are a bit mischievous and downright playful even now in his kitchen. He stands to his full height, breathing in your light, breaking apart for a moment. You turn around for a short moment, and with his help, he has you sit atop of the counter after he caged you there with his arms alone. You tuck one of your legs underneath your thighs, while the other just dangles against the granite top.

Mentioning a thing or two about how he doesn’t mind making a mess in the kitchen, your giggle is stolen straight from your cheeks wholly by his lips tracing the kanji of your name on your temple, reminiscent of the last time you comfort him the time before last.

“Stay,” his voice is riddled with an intoxicating mixture of longing and pragmatic reason. His nose flirts with your jawline before you bite your lower lip; you push him back slightly and he gives you a questionable, but confused stare. Your hoodie was unbearably warm at the moment, so when you push him, he stops his antics, poorly misjudging why you do what you did.

“I-I’m sorry…?” he stutters, backing away almost completely away when he can’t fathom why you’re suddenly slowing down. Unless, this was a one time thing. You pull your hoodie over your head and place it behind you with one hand, your dominant hand lunges forward to hold his wrist, forcing him to return his attention back to you, now dressed in a camisole.

“Don’t apologize,” you tap his hand in a metronome fashion. “You did nothing wrong, ok?”

Your other hand reaches out in the space between and he returns, gaining a little more confidence you think he may have lost, so you help him remember. You pull him close, with your foreheads resting against each other, you shake his head calling him don’t jump to conclusions so quickly. Cooling down makes you witness his uncertainty, you kiss the tip of his nose.

“Nothing has changed now that I see what you were trying to tell me earlier,” you inform him, but you learn it stems from his parents. You’ve only received little nuances of his family’s dinners every once in a while, so you try to comprehend his concerns.

“Give us a chance, Tetsu,” your answer causes him to tear down the minefield. His eyes sternly stare at your own full of hope. “I won’t go anywhere, no matter what you decide, alright?”

He concurs this thought, kissing the corner of your mouth. You let his hand go and twist your body away from where he stood. You hop down from the counter with his help, you mention the food should be arriving soon.

“We can always talk more after we eat,” Kuroo said, remembering if things were to continue, love in moderation is something he learned.

“Or,” you stand on the balls of your feet and you whisper a string of suggestions watching his body eventually give in to you making him bashfully flustered.

You taunt him all throughout breakfast, wondering how long he’d last before he’d physically sweep you off your feet. Ok, so maybe a short stack of pancakes with seasonal fruit and two 16oz Dalgona Coffees was enough to have him give in to one of your suggestions.

In Kuroo’s room, after brunch, he sits on his bed with his back supported by the headboard. You sat in front of him and you told him to just exist in this time and space:

“There will be days where all we want to do is just be in each other’s presence, Tetsu,” you mention. He’s holding your hand in his, comparing size differences; he concurs when he hums and hold you a little closer. You laugh lightheartedly when you glance up.

Kuroo adjusts his hands to knead at the knots on your lower back. You make a comment about even if he does love dogs, he’s truly s cat at heart when he does this.

“Or so I’ve been told,” he whispered in your ear.

You pause your next train of thought long enough for you to relax into his touch; his hands may have been rough after the years he played volleyball, yet he likes the art in the subtle sense of being left alone. Especially with you here, his mind adds.

“That feels nice,” you say, finding yourself in a drowsy state.

You lean against his chest, focusing on the ambient sound of breathing. Your exposed skin receives his undivided attention. You still curl into him, like a cat finding a perfect place to nap in a solarium. Kuroo keeps you steady, a protective arm on top of your left arm, cradling you. Tranquil kisses along the curvature of your neck is how you find your voice being reduced to short hums of pleasure. You rest your head against his bicep, a calm peaceful expression is read on your face. Kuroo himself, feels pride in navigating your love language. Sure, physical touch is just as important as quality time, but when he reflects, he has a short epiphany. You never demanded a whole lot from him, you just encourage him to grow from what life throws at him.

“Maddening isn’t it?” he inquires when your breathing begins to even out. It matches a similar steadiness he emits. “Wonders never cease with you, precious gemstone. I’ll work on being there when you need me the most.”

He kisses the top of your head before gently placing you down on the mattress. Laying himself down beside you, you roll over on to him.

“Mm, you better,” you mumble. He chuckles at your childlike behavior, drawing little shapes with a dopey grin.

“Sweet dreams baby.”

Right before he falls back asleep, he takes his phone out of his pocket and launches the camera app. You’re a god fifteen minutes deep in your nap and he finds the time to take a somewhat flattering self-ca (selfie) with you. He quietly types a message and sends it to kenma, who just replies with a thumbs up emoji. As for bokuto and the rest of his friends from the pub, they’d have to wait a little while longer to meet you.

At the end of the semester, you find yourself outside of the popular pub doors. Your graduation cap balances on top of your head, when you send out a text hoping you’re significant other is not too far behind.

To: Kuroo ^(T^T)^ (delivered 19:12): are you guys inside?

“I’m right here,” there is a familiar sound behind you, pulling you into a familiar hug. When he says his congratulations in your ear, he presses a quick kiss to your cheek. Holding your hand, now standing side by side, he winks at you, squeezing your hand he graciously held.

“Ready to go?”

“Any time.”

You both grab a hold of the door handle, pulling it open to the future both of you knew would be just as exciting as performing the fireworks lab the year before.