#it also turned into a nice cell shading study | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hrina · 4 years

Text

Something Strange

PAIRING: Harry x Reader RATING: R WORD COUNT: 6.3k+ REQUESTED: no

uhhhh hi. so. this is my (first ever) halloween fic, ft. infuriatingly cocky ghostbuster!harry. i really hope you guys enjoy it, and just like every other writer on this godforsaken site, i’d love to hear any feedback that you might have. ok im done now lol go forth and read :)

warnings: cursing, brief nsfw content, a nasty habit of jumping to conclusions, and harry being an asshole with a secret heart of gold.

~*~

October 2nd, 2021

Your attention is first caught by the massive, obnoxiously-coloured truck parked in Mindy and Gerald’s driveway. The entire vehicle is a shade of navy blue, though its sophistication is ruined by the neon green bubble lettering streaked across its doors.

Spooked? Call Styles’ Scares!

Beneath that, there’s a promise painted in bright pink:

Lasting results or your money back!

“What the hell?” you mutter.

You unbuckle your seatbelt and exit your car, momentarily forgetting about the groceries sitting in the trunk. Mindy and Gerald are standing on their porch, absorbed in a light-hearted conversation. When they catch sight of you trekking across the lawn, they smile brightly and offer up a pair of welcoming waves.

“Hi, there!” you call, shoving your hands into the back pockets of your jeans. “What’s all this?”

“Good afternoon, dear!” Mindy replies. She quickly descends the front steps, meeting you halfway and enveloping you in a tight hug. “How are you? It’s been a while since we last spoke.”

“You can drop in whenever you want,” you say, chuckling. “It’s not like I live very far away.”

“How have you been?” Gerald follows his wife, steadily making his way off the porch. “How’s school?”

“It’s alright.” You shrug. “Things are picking up, now, but I’m trying my best to stay on top of them.”

You toss your thumb over your shoulder, gesturing to the bright pickup truck parked in their driveway. (It really is ugly, you think. Probably one of the ugliest vehicles that you’ve ever had the displeasure of perceiving.)

“What’s going on?”

“Oh!” Mindy lifts her hands to her mouth, gazing at you with wide, serious eyes. “Our house is haunted.”

You balk. “Pardon me?”

“I know, I know,” she sighs, shaking her head. “It sounds silly. I didn’t believe it at first either, but—something keeps knocking our picture frames off the wall. And the lights! They start flickering at random intervals throughout the day.”

“Are you sure it’s not just rats?” you joke.

Gerald, who has now joined you on the lawn, holds up his hand solemnly. “We tried using traps, but they haven’t been touched at all.”

“Exactly.” Mindy nods, turning back to you. “We’re already worried about Joseph’s wedding next week, so one of the ladies at the community centre recommended Harry. That same day, Gerald gave him a call, and that was the end of it.”

“Who’s Harry?” you ask, brows knitting together in confusion.

“Er—” A deep voice sounds from behind you. “I am.”

When you turn around, you come face-to-face with one of the prettiest men you’ve ever seen. He’s got mossy green eyes, dark pink lips, and brown hair that curls around his temples and behind his ears. Smooth skin stretches out over high, chiseled cheekbones and a sharp jaw. He’s wearing a pair of light-wash jeans and matching white sneakers. A black hoodie covers his broad chest; upon taking a closer look, you note that the two front strings have been tied into a picturesque little bow.

Mindy wastes no time, introducing the two of you immediately. When Harry holds out his hand for you to shake, you don’t hesitate.

“Did you want my card?” he asks, peering at you curiously.

You study his expression. Beneath his seemingly sincere exterior, arrogance runs wild and unchecked. You know this man. You’ve met him a hundred different times under a hundred different circumstances, and you’ve learned to recognize a lost cause when you’re staring it square in the face.

“Not at all.” You shoot him a fake smile. “I’m just the neighbour.”

“Right.” His lips twitch. He steps back, rolling his shoulders and lifting his chin in the direction of the house. “Well, I should probably get to work. It was nice meeting you, babe.”

Your nose wrinkles as the pet name sinks in.

When you turn back around to resume your conversation with Mindy and Gerald, they’re gone. Your eyes bounce to the right, where you find them guiding Harry up the porch steps. Mindy has one hand on his bicep whilst gesturing animatedly with the other. Gerald opens the front door and holds out his arm, welcoming Harry inside.

You scoff, shaking your head in disdain.

“Ghosts aren’t real,” you mumble as you make your way back across the lawn. The trunk of your car squeaks when you pull it open, and plastic bags rustle as you gather your groceries into your arms.

Ghosts aren’t real. And Harry is obviously a scammer, based on…well, based on everything. The tacky design on his truck. The unprofessional wardrobe. The self-assuredness emanating from every cell in his body. Babe.

But Mindy and Gerald truly believe that their home is haunted. Trying to change their minds without a shred of physical proof is pointless. You blow out a soft sigh, accepting the grim reality of your situation.

Your neighbours are gullible, trusting people. And for the next few days—whether you like it or not—Harry is here to stay.

October 5th, 2021

You’re approximately two seconds away from chucking your textbook against the far wall.

You’ve been trying to finish this chapter for the past hour. And though you pride yourself on being tolerant when it comes to petty annoyances, your patience is wearing thin. A quick glance out of your bedroom window reveals Harry’s hideous pickup truck parked—yet again—in Mindy and Gerald’s driveway.

You roll your eyes. Of course.

The piercing, raucous whirring starts up again; you release a frustrated yell, slamming your book shut and leaping off your bed. You’re muttering obscenities under your breath as you stalk down the hall, stopping briefly to slide on a pair of fuzzy slippers. When you yank your front door open, the chilly autumn air settles into your bones.

The clamour grows louder as you stomp across your shared lawn. When you knock on Mindy and Gerald’s door, the commotion is nearly unbearable. A few seconds go by, during which your presence remains unacknowledged; you rap once again on the wood, hoping that the sound will be conspicuous enough amidst all of the background noise.

Sure enough, everything goes quiet. Your shoulders slump with relief just as the door opens. Mindy greets you with a friendly smile.

“Hi, dear,” she says kindly. “What can I do for you?”

“Hi.” You force yourself to mirror her affable expression, hoping that she can’t see the pained exhaustion brewing in your eyes. “Could I just—could I speak with Harry, please? It won’t take long.”

“Of course.” She nods before peering at you anxiously. “Don’t tell me that you’ve got ghosts, too.”

“No.” You shake your head. Ghosts aren’t real, you want to say, but you hold your tongue. “No, I just—I just need to have a quick word with him, that’s all.”

“Alright. I’ll go fetch him.” She turns around and totters away.

You hear her call his name, followed by the telltale sound of shuffling. After a few long moments, he’s there, leaning against the doorway with a bemused look on his face.

“Evening, babe,” he says coolly. “What’s up?”

“Don’t call me that,” you snap, folding your arms over your chest.

Harry’s eyebrows shoot upward. He hadn’t expected you to greet him with such animosity, you suppose. His outfit is nearly identical to that of the other day, save for the red bandana perched atop his head. He buries his fingers into the pockets of his jeans, shrugging nonchalantly and pinning you with a blasé, unimpressed gaze.

“Noted,” he says. The corners of his lips curl up into a crooked smirk as he repeats, “What’s up?”

“You need to keep it down,” you say flatly. “I don’t know what kind of fake ‘exorcism’ bullshit you’re trying to pull off, but the noise is driving me insane. I need to study.”

“‘Fake’?” Harry parrots. “You don’t believe in spirits?”

“No,” you deadpan. “I don’t.” You narrow your eyes, studying the subtle movements of his face. “And if I had to take a wild guess, neither do you.”

“Really,” he says, chuckling softly. It isn’t a question.

“Really.”

Harry watches you, tickled by your obvious exasperation. “I get the feeling that you don’t like me very much.”

“Look at that,” you say, rolling your eyes. “He does have a brain.”

“You’re so judgmental.” He laughs, shaking his head. “How can you dislike me when you barely even know me?”

“I know enough,” you reply, scowling. “I know that you’re a fraud who takes advantage of people and their fears. And for what? Just so that you can take home a paycheque at the end of the day?”

“Ouch.” Harry feigns injury, placing a large hand over his heart. “That hurts, babe.”

There it is again. Babe.

“You know what?” Your nostrils flare. “Forget this—it’s like trying to explain rocket science to a toddler.”

He grins. “Yeah, I suppose. I’m much cuter, though, don’t you think?”

You scoff, pedalling backward. “In your dreams.”

His delight only seems to grow when your retort sinks in. You whip around, descending the porch steps and storming back toward your house. When you chance a glance over your shoulder, Harry is still standing in the doorway, a shit-eating smile stretched wide across his cheeks.

“Just keep it down, okay?” you call irritably.

He raises two fingers to his temple in a mock-salute, and you march away without another word.

October 8th, 2021

“You’re sure?”

You laugh. “Yes, Mindy, I’m sure. I promise.”

“Alright,” she assents, blowing out a quiet sigh through the phone. “I went grocery shopping today, so our cupboards are fully stocked—help yourself to anything you’d like. Also, when you flush the downstairs toilet, the water may look like it’s rising, but it goes down after a second or two.”

“Noted.” You snicker. “Anything else?”

“That’s it,” she says. “Thank you so much.”

“No problem,” you reply. “Tell Joseph and Amy that I said congratulations, yeah?”

“We will! See you later, dear.”

“See you later.”

October 9th, 2021

When Mindy and Gerald get back tomorrow afternoon, you’re going to wring their necks.

Agreeing to housesit whilst they celebrated their son’s wedding a few cities away? Sure. Fine. You had a long night full of nothing planned—sitting in front of the television, munching on some snacks, relaxing for the evening and trying to forget about all of the schoolwork waiting for you at home. You were in the middle of watching a Golden Girls rerun when, suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

“Coming!” You stood, setting your bowl of popcorn aside. The knocking continued as you made your way to the front entrance, wiping your buttery fingers against the dark leggings covering your thighs.

“I’m coming,” you said exasperatedly. You opened the door, ready to shoo away whoever it was—a salesperson, probably.

Instead, you came face-to-face with Harry.

And now, you’re here—slumped on the couch, angrily shovelling popcorn into your mouth. You keep your gaze trained on the television, trying your hardest to avoid the man who is setting up his “equipment” in the middle of the room.

“Can’t you do this in the kitchen?” you deadpan.

He flicks a switch on his machine—it looks an awful lot like a standard centrifuge. What a fraud.

“Spirit energy’s strongest in here,” he grunts. His knees scuff against the carpeted floor.

A derisive laugh falls from your lips. “Mindy and Gerald aren’t here—you can drop the act.”

Harry glances up at you, his pretty green irises glimmering. “What act?”

You roll your eyes and look away, fixing your attention back on the grainy screen.

Neither of you say anything for the next few minutes; tension builds, saturating the air and making it hard for you to breathe. Eventually, Harry breaks through the awkward silence. You want to scream.

“Er—” he starts, expectant. “Do you mind stepping out for a second? I need the room.”

Your nostrils flare. “Excuse me?”

“I need the—”

“I heard you,” you say, sitting up straight. “You don’t need anything. What the hell are you playing at?”

“I’m not quite sure what you mean, babe.” His tone is genuine, but you can sense the mirth simmering just beneath the surface. His lips twitch, and your frustration boils like water over a stove.

“Stop calling me that,” you snap, folding your arms across your chest. “And stop playing dumb. Other people might put up with your pseudo-spooky bullshit, but I won’t. Ghosts aren’t real!”

The lights go out.

You gasp, straining your eyes in an attempt to regain your bearings. Slowly, blurry shapes and shadows materialise in front of you. You fumble around for your phone, picking it up and tapping the screen. A moment later, the device’s flash lights up the room. You shine it from side to side, eventually settling on Harry, who is looking up at the ceiling in complete and utter bewilderment.

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath. “Now you’ve done it.”

“Done what?” you squawk, glaring at him. “The power went out. Big deal.”

The lights flicker fleetingly, and then the room is dark again. Your eyes drift over to Harry; he’s smirking.

“This isn’t a ghost,” you say stubbornly, waving your phone around. The bright light bounces across the walls before you steady yourself, positioning the beam back on him. He stands, sinking his hands into the deep pockets of his sweatpants.

“And how would you know?” he teases, cocking one eyebrow challengingly.

“Because,” you scoff. “Ghosts aren’t real.”

Something crashes to the floor. You yelp in surprise, your head snapping to the right. When you shine your light in the direction of the noise, you find a shattered picture frame lying on the ground.

“What the fuck?” Harry murmurs, advancing toward the mess.

“Careful!” you say, holding up your hand. He stops in his tracks, peering over at you in confusion. “There’s glass, idiot,” you explain, climbing to your feet. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”

He shoots you a crooked smile. “You do care.”

“I don’t.” Your response is curt. “I just don’t feel like driving you to the hospital so that they can remove fragments from your foot.”

Harry chuckles.

You sigh, squinting at the fallen frame. “We can clean it up when the lights come back on,” you say, mostly to yourself. “I don’t want to risk anything.”

He nods and yawns, stretching his arms out above his head. “Suit yourself, babe.”

“The next time you call me that, I’m going to—”

“What?” he asks, padding over to the sofa. You watch him approach with a deep scowl on your face. He collapses onto the couch, slouching and spreading his legs obnoxiously wide. “You gonna beat me up or something?”

You shake your head in disbelief, stepping away from him. “You’re a piece of shit.”

“So you say,” he replies, unbothered.

“You’re so—”

You break off, producing an angry noise in the back of your throat. Harry winks at you; in response, you whip around and storm away, carving out a path from the living room to the kitchen.

You shine the light from your phone across the cupboards, making a beeline for the fridge. When you pull it open, the cold compartment is dark. Squinting, you reach for one of the many water bottles stacked on the top shelf.

Stupid Harry, with his stupid smile and his stupid eyes and his stupid attitude and his stupid bogus business. You can’t believe that Mindy and Gerald were naïve enough to fall for his bullshit. You need to have a long talk with them when they get back, you think—to ensure that they never swallow a pill this big ever again.

“Thirsty?”

You nearly jump out of your skin, pointing your phone toward the kitchen’s exit. Harry is standing there, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his broad chest. You bring one hand up to your sternum, trying to calm your racing heart.

“Jesus Christ,” you hiss, shaking your head. “You scared the shit out of me!”

He snickers lowly. You turn your attention back to the fridge, grabbing a water bottle and uncapping it quickly. Through the darkness, Harry watches you gulp down the cool liquid; you pretend not to notice.

“Can I help you?” you finally ask, wiping your mouth with the heel of your palm.

“No.” He shrugs. “Just…looking, I guess.”

“That’s creepy,” you reply flatly. He laughs.

“May I steal a bottle?” he says, padding across the tiles. “I’m parched.”

You chew on the inside of your cheek. “I—sure. Whatever.”

And though you try, you can’t seem to tear your gaze away from him. He hums as he opens up the fridge, leaning forward to get a better look inside. You play with the hem of your sweater, standing behind him awkwardly. When he peers over his shoulder, you quickly look away, feigning interest in the marble countertop next to the sink.

“Er—” he starts. He fixes you with an inquisitive look, glancing down at the device in your hand. “Would you mind? I can’t see anything.”

“Don’t you have your own?” you ask.

“Yeah, but you’re already holding yours. Come on.”

You roll your eyes. “Fine.”

You draw nearer, lifting your phone and shining its flash into the fridge. Harry hums, plucking a water bottle off the top shelf with a satisfied smile. When he turns to face you, a puff of air catches in your throat; he’s awfully close, his torso brushing almost imperceptibly against yours.

You stare up at him, stunned. There’s a small mole beneath the left corner of his mouth. Part of you—an insignificant, microscopic part—fights the urge to reach out and run your thumb over the mark.

“I’m sorry for calling you a piece of shit,” you blurt.

He inhales deeply, chest expanding and fitting a bit more firmly against your own.

The contact snaps you out of your trance. You retreat, backing up against the counter to maintain your balance. Harry clears his throat and glances away.

“Thanks,” he says, his voice hoarse.

Unable to find the right words, you simply nod.

The two of you stand there for a long moment, sinking into a pool of uncomfortable silence. Just when you think that you’re going to choke on the invisible tension, a faint buzz resonates through the air. Less than a second later, the power returns, illuminating the kitchen in a wash of warm, brilliant light.

“Thank God,” you mutter. You shut the flash on your phone, sliding the device beneath the waistband of your leggings.

Harry blinks rapidly, disoriented. “Shit.”

“What’s wrong?” you ask, tilting your head to the side.

He waves your question away. “No, it’s—it’s nothing.”

And you don’t really feel like pressing the subject, so you let it go. A tired sigh falls from your mouth as you scan your surroundings.

“Help me find a broom,” you tell him. “We need to sweep up the glass in the other room.”

His lips twitch. “What’s the magic word?”

There he is. The same insufferable man who has been pushing your buttons all week. You scowl, shooting him a displeased glare.

“Forget it.” You drag your fingers down the left side of your face. “I’ll do it myself.”

~*~

“You sure you don’t want my help?” Harry calls, kicking his feet up onto the sofa.

You grunt, crouching next to the shattered glass on the floor. “Positive.”

The broom and dustpan that you’ve acquired from the laundry room are old and frail, but you suppose that they’ll get the job done. You set the dustpan down on the ground, wrapping your fingers around the broom’s handle and trying to maneuver it in an efficient way. It’s no easy feat, but eventually, you manage to create a small, compact pile of shards. Gingerly, you reach for the picture frame, plucking it up from the ground and setting it off to the side. Next, you take your time sweeping all of the fragments into the dustpan, inspecting the floor for any lingering bits.

“Struggling over there?” Harry asks.

You grit your teeth.

“No,” you counter in a matter-of-fact tone. “I think I got it all, actually. No thanks to you.”

You throw the last part over your shoulder, coupling it with an accusatory frown. Harry holds up his hands in surrender, suppressing his amusement.

“Shouldn’t you be exorcising spirits?” you ask. Sarcasm drips from your words.

He chuckles. The couch squeaks as he shuffles around; a moment later, the sound of approaching footsteps reaches your ears. You stiffen when he stops next to your squatted form.

“To be quite honest,” he begins, and you can practically hear the smirk in his voice, “I’m having a much better time watching you.”

“Creepy,” you say. “Again.”

He laughs, lowering himself to his knees. In the periphery of your vision, you watch him pick up the abandoned picture frame, turning it around and studying the photograph inside. His cheeks lift with the slope of a familiar smile, but somehow, this one is different from the others that you’ve witnessed.

It’s real. Sincere.

“Nice, don’t you think?” Harry asks, pulling you from your thoughts.

He extends his arm, revealing the photograph. Mindy and Gerald’s beaming faces stare up at you, a balance of bright grins and crinkled eyes. Subconsciously, your lips curl upward, and you take the frame from Harry’s hands.

“Yeah,” you murmur, running your fingertips over the photo. “They look happy.”

“How long have you known them?” he asks. There’s no malice behind the question.

“Since I moved in,” you say absentmindedly, admiring the ornate frame around the picture. “A few years, now.”

He hums in response. “They talk about you a lot.”

“All good things, I hope.” You cast a wry look in his direction.

He chuckles and nods. “Yeah. They look out for you, it seems.”

“I try to look out for them, too.” You sit back on your haunches, groaning quietly. “Which is why I was surprised that they didn’t come to me when they first thought their house was ‘haunted’.”

Your intonation changes on the last word; you still don’t believe that your neighbours are being plagued by spirits, despite the plethora of peculiarity that you’ve witnessed tonight.

“Maybe they didn’t want to worry you,” Harry suggests.

You roll your eyes. Even now, he refuses to drop the act.

“Sure,” you say. “So, hiring a spirit exterminator—or whatever you pretend to be—was a better move?” You snort softly, climbing to your feet. “How much are they paying you, anyway?”

He purses his lips. “They’re not.”

You freeze.

A beat of silence drags out, during which you swallow your shock. You clear your throat and lift your chin, staring down at Harry banally.

“You’re lying.”

“Nope.”

“You are!” you insist. A short, incredulous laugh tumbles off your tongue. “You are one hundred percent fucking with me.”

“I’m afraid not,” he says.

“Your truck, though...” you say. “‘Lasting results, or your money back’?”

“I’ve got to make it look legitimate, don’t I?” He smirks. “But it’s cute that you remembered.”

Your eyes lock with his, and suddenly, it’s almost impossible to breathe. His gaze is deep, open, and honest. Your lips part, but no sound comes out. Instinctively, your legs carry you a few paces back, veering toward the sofa. You plop down onto the plush cushions, clutching the picture frame tightly between your fingers.

“Then, why—?” you break off, shaking your head. “Why would you—?”

“Peace of mind,” Harry shrugs, still rooted to his spot on the floor. “Ever heard of the placebo effect?”

“You admit it, then,” you say, sitting up straight. “There’s no such thing as ghosts.”

He nods, blinking languidly. “There’s no such thing as ghosts.”

“So,” you start, trying to make sense of the situation, “you let them believe that you’re actually cleansing the house—for free, too—just to—?” You glance around the room, searching for the right words. “—just to put them at ease?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s…”

Sweet. Thoughtful.

“…ridiculous.”

Harry chuckles. “Thanks.”

“I—” You hesitate, depositing the photograph next to you on the couch. “This whole time, I thought you were just…”

“A con?”

You bring your fingers up to your mouth, nodding silently and studying him with big, rounded eyes.

He shrugs.

“I mean, I never really got the chance to explain myself. You’d already made up your mind about me, hadn’t you? So, I thought I’d just let you stick with your assumptions—it didn’t bother me much.”

“I’m a horrible person,” you say, mostly to yourself.

Harry laughs, shaking his head. “No, you’re not. You’re just a bit judgmental, that’s all.”

“You’re right.” You nod again, bowing your head in shame. “I am. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, babe, really.”

You stand abruptly, abandoning your spot on the sofa.

“I should finish up,” you state, embarrassed beyond belief. Harry watches you closely as you approach. You crouch down next to him, reaching for the dustpan with shaky hands. A few small shards of glass are littered at the brink of the collector; you nudge them away from the edge, trying to be as careful as possible.

“Ow!” you suddenly hiss, retracting your arm quickly. You twist your wrist, fixing your attention on a thin cut engraved into the pad of your index finger.

“What happened?” Harry asks, leaning forward.

You shake your head, waving away his worries. “I’m fine, I’m fine. Just got nicked, that’s all.”

“Let me see,” he requests, holding out his own hand.

You pause, taking your bottom lip between your teeth and stealing a quick glance at his face. His expression is concerned, but neutral. Your hesitation is silly, you think—he may be a bit of a jackass, but he’s not going to hurt you. You’ve already condemned him once before, and you were wrong.

You don’t want to make that mistake again.

After a brief moment, you give in, sliding your knuckles into his open palm.

“It’s alright, really,” you say, speaking around the lump in your throat. “The piece was tiny—it hardly broke the surface.”

Harry inspects the laceration closely, and you fight the urge to roll your eyes.

It’s not that serious, you want to tell him, but you refrain from letting the words escape. Part of you is enjoying the way your hands fit together so perfectly. You don’t want it to end—not yet.

“You’re bleeding a bit, babe,” he announces faintly, brows cinched in concentration.

“I am?” You try to tug your arm back, but he keeps a firm grip on your wrist. A low, confused noise echoes in the back of your throat; Harry peers up at you, his features unreadable.

“It’s just a spot,” he murmurs. “Let me.”

And before you can say or do anything else, he’s taking your finger past his lips and giving an easy, gentle suck.

You squeak.

The sound snaps Harry out of his trance; he releases your hand and recoils hastily. You exhale, driving out the stale air gathered in your lungs. When you peek up at him from beneath your lashes, he’s already watching you, shoulders taut with anxiety.

“Sorry,” he stammers. His nostrils flare. “That was weird—sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you say, shaking your head. “Er…thanks.”

“No worries.” He swallows.

“Alright.”

Awkwardly, you wipe your clammy palms against your thighs. Harry seems to be looking at everything except for you; his gaze flits to the ceiling, then to the couch, then to the floor. You gnaw on the inside of your cheek and push yourself up off the ground. The room is painfully quiet as you slowly slink back toward to the sofa.

“I should probably put this somewhere safe,” you mumble, picking up the forgotten picture frame.

Warm air floats over the nape of your neck. You gasp and spin around, nearly toppling over in your haste. Harry’s hands find your shoulders, steadying you and crowding you closer to his chest. You glance up at him; your shallow breaths mingle together in the narrow space, noses only inches apart.

“Is this okay?” he asks, his voice no higher than a gruff whisper. “Tell me. Please.”

In response, you fumble for one of his hands, grappling at his wrist; he loosens his hold on your arms, confused but willing. He’s motionless as you lift his knuckles up to your mouth. You glance down, tilting your head to the side and studying them carefully. Harry says nothing when you press a soft, feathery kiss to the pad of his index finger.

But then you’re dipping the tip of the digit between your lips, and suddenly, he’s undone.

“Fucking—”

He grabs your face in his palms and seals his mouth to yours.

The two of you stagger backward, tumbling onto the couch. Mindy and Gerald’s picture frame slips from your grasp, landing on a neighbouring cushion with a faint thud. Reflexively, your legs part; Harry takes his rightful place between them, slanting his body accordingly. When he applies the faintest hint of pressure, you moan.

“Fuck.” He draws back, his warm breath wafting over your chin. “Don’t.”

“‘Don’t’ what?” you ask, puzzled.

He shakes his head. “Don’t make those noises. It’s—you’re—I’m—”

He curses quietly and reaches for one of your hands. You allow him to guide your palm lower, inhaling sharply when you feel the slight bulge protruding from his trousers. Instinctively, your fingers close over the subtle ridge of his cock. His shoulders stiffen, and his eyes squeeze shut.

“You’re hard,” you murmur, as though it’s the most fascinating thing in the world.

“Not fully.” He swallows. “But I’m getting there.”

“Because of me?” you ask, peering up at him innocently.

“Yeah.” Harry expels a wobbly, disbelieving laugh. “Yeah, babe—because of you.”

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip as the familiar moniker falls from his mouth. He notices your unusual reaction, mouth curling into teasing smirk.

“What?” he says, lifting one eyebrow. “No nagging, this time? I thought you hated that nickname.”

You grip the collar of his sweater and give a gentle tug, guiding him down for another kiss. When the two of you finally break apart, you shrug. “It’s growing on me.”

He smiles.

“Do you—?” you pause, pursing your lips. The question sounds silly—presumptuous, even. Rather than finishing your sentence, you lift your chin, gazing up evenly into Harry’s green eyes and declaring, “I think I want to sleep with you.”

His cheeks dimple with a wide grin. “Is that so?”

You nod.

“Right, then.” He kisses your nose and pulls away. “There’s a condom in my wallet, but…I may or may not have left it in my truck.”

You groan, allowing your head to fall back against the sofa with a heavy thump. Harry chuckles at your theatrics. After a brief moment of contemplation, you compose yourself and sit up quickly.

“That works, actually,” you say, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “Grab your wallet, and then we can go to my place. I don’t think my neighbours would be very happy if we fucked on their couch.”

He laughs, climbing eagerly to his feet and shooting you a smug wink. “You got it, babe.”

October 10th, 2021

It’s nearly half past noon when you step out onto the porch the next day. You yawn, squinting up at the sun shining brightly in the sky. There are no clouds in sight; the slight chill of the autumn air tickles your exposed arms. You tug on the waistband of your sweatpants, keeping the material seated firmly on your hips.

“Good morning, dear!”

You jump, head snapping in the direction of a familiar voice. Mindy and Gerald are sitting on their veranda, nursing twin cups of coffee and looking awfully cozy. Gerald smiles at you, folding up his newspaper and setting it on his lap.

“Good morning!” You wave before re-evaluating your words. “Well, it’s technically past twelve, so good afternoon.”

Mindy laughs.

“How was the wedding?” you ask, approaching the side of your deck. You lean against the thin metal railing, combing your fingers through your messy hair. “I wasn’t expecting you to be back this soon.”

“We woke up early,” Mindy explains. “And the wedding was fabulous. Amy wore the most beautiful dress I’ve ever seen.”

“Really?” You grin. “Do you have any pictures?”

“Of course! Just let me run inside and grab my phone—”

“Mornin’,” a gruff voice says from behind you.

You gasp and spin around, bringing a hand to your chest. The sight laid out before you has your heart speeding up, galloping wildly and battering against the confines of your ribs.

Harry’s wearing that same hoodie from last night. Your gaze trails lower—he’s also sporting a pair of grey boxers and white socks. There’s a mug nestled in each of his large hands, his spindly fingers wrapped around the handles comfortably. Your eyes lock with his sleepy ones, and your breathing hitches in your throat.

“Morning,” you whisper, unable to muster up anything louder.

“I—” Harry clears his throat, stepping closer and extending his left arm. “I, er, took the liberty of making us some tea. Hope you don’t mind.”

“No, it’s—” You swallow as you accept one of the mugs, suppressing a giddy smile. “It’s completely fine. Thank you.”

“Of course.” He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “Sleep well?”

“Mhm.” You nod shyly.

He chuckles. “Good.”

His gaze wanders over your shoulder, and it’s then that he notices Mindy and Gerald sat on the neighbouring porch. Without even batting an eye, he lifts his hand in a friendly wave. “Morning, you two. How was the wedding?”

You turn back toward the couple, a sheepish look on your face. Mindy is beaming, and Gerald is trying to hold back a laugh. Heat creeps up your neck; you wish that the ground would just open up and swallow you whole.

“It was wonderful!” Mindy trills. Her enthusiasm has skyrocketed. You pinch the bridge of your nose, utterly mortified.

“Yes.” Gerald finally pipes up, smirking knowingly. “It was great. What about you, though? How was your night?”

“Fine,” you blurt before Harry can respond. “It was fine.”

The duo share a look, and then Mindy giggles girlishly. You bring your mug up to your mouth, taking a long sip and groaning into the cup. Harry’s arm snakes around your waist, making you jump. You steal a glance at him out of the corner of your eye; he’s fighting a smile.

“Well—” Gerald clears his throat, plucking his folded newspaper from his lap and rising to his feet. “I think I’ll be going, now. Need to catch up on those few extra hours of sleep.”

“Me too,” Mindy says, nodding fervently. She directs her next words at you. “If you pop by later, I’ll show you those photos, okay?”

“Okay,” you croak.

She shoots you one last grin before disappearing inside.

“God,” you say immediately, hanging your head. “That was torture.”

Next to you, Harry laughs. You aim a weak swat at his chest. He snickers, catching your palm and ducking down to drop a gentle kiss against your knuckles. You exhale shakily, twisting your body around so that you can face him.

“Your hair’s a mess,” you murmur, running your free hand through his dishevelled curls.

He cocks one eyebrow. “And whose fault is that?”

You scoff. “Shut up.”

He chuckles quietly and steps closer to you, holding out his mug. You smile in assent, mirroring his movements and clinking your cups together.

“So,” Harry starts, sipping his tea casually, “you gonna let me take you out on a proper date, sometime?”

“That depends,” you say, trying to ignore the flurry of butterflies flapping around in your stomach. “I’ll go—but only if we take my car. I refuse to drive around town in your tacky truck.”

“It’s not that bad!” he protests.

“It’s awful,” you tell him, shaking your head. “It looks it was decorated by a preschooler during arts and crafts.”

“Fine.” He rolls his eyes playfully, giving in. “Any other requests?”

You pause, lost in thought.

“One more, actually,” you say, fixing him with a challenging stare. “You need to come clean to Mindy and Gerald.”

He doesn’t miss a beat. “Alright.”

“Really?” You balk, taken aback by his compliance. “That’s it? But I—I had a whole speech prepared.”

Harry laughs softly, cradling your face with his free hand and kissing you slowly. Your fingers tighten around your mug. When the two of you break apart for air, he shrugs.

“I started considering it after everything that happened last night. Keep your speech, though.” His lips twitch. “You’ll be needing to scold me again in no time, I’m sure.”

Your shoulders shake with a silent giggle. “You’re probably right.”

“Also—” Harry clears his throat, soothing the ache with another sip of tea. “You may want to suggest that they hire an exterminator.”

“An exterminator?” you repeat, blinking in surprise. “But…they don’t have rats. Gerald said that the traps hadn’t been touched.”

“Not rats,” he hums. “Squirrels, I believe. Living in the walls.”

“And how did you reach that conclusion?”

“I’ve been doing this for a while, babe—I’ve seen my fair share of pests. Plus,” he clucks his tongue, “they like to chew on wires.”

“Really?” You sigh distantly, pinching your bottom lip. “God, that sucks.”

“It does.” He nods, wrapping his fingers around your forearm. “But you can tell them later.”

“Later?” you say, brows knitting together. “Why not right now?”

“Because,” Harry grunts. You squeal when he crowds you up against your front door. He cups your jaw and tilts your chin up with his thumb, handsome face splitting into an easy, salacious grin.

“Right now, I’m taking you back to bed.”

~*~

thanks for reading! if you enjoyed this piece, please consider donating to my ko-fi! and as always, don’t forget to share your thoughts. thank you bunches <3

#harry styles smut #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #spookrry #harry writing #ok here it is 🙃 i lowkey feel like its gonna flop but w/e

971 notes · View notes

robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

Note

Hello! I saw a post that said your prompts are open, but if they’re not yet, please don’t worry about this. Anyway, if you’re interested, please take this ‘Wen Ruohan appoints Lan Wangji his next heir with being 1) impressed by him, or 2) bested by him’ Lan Wangji is less than thrilled about this

Modern AU

“I hate this,” Wei Wuxian grumbled. “This is so dumb.”

“I don’t think you’re supposed to enjoy being kidnapped,” Jiang Cheng said, his arms crossed over his chest. He was scowling. He hadn’t stopped scowling. Nobody blamed him one bit. “It’s not like it’s something that gets advertised in travel brochures or anything.”

“Listen, if it was like in the movies, it’d be one thing,” Wei Wuxian argued back. Lan Wangji suspected he was just arguing in order to hear himself speak, but since Lan Wangji also enjoyed hearing him speak, he didn’t mind. “Getting snatched into a van! Taken to a mysterious secondary location via plane! Villain monologues! Handcuffs! Zipties! Ropes! Chains!”

Lan Wangji wondered if Wei Wuxian had a thing for bondage. He would be okay with that.

Very okay with that.

“Wei Wuxian…” Jiang Cheng started.

“But noooooo, we don’t get jungles or the ‘most dangerous game’ or sexy people in skimpy swimsuits –”

Lan Wangji had a bathing suit. It wasn’t that skimpy, though.

“- we just get kidnapped by a deranged politician who’s decided that the best way to figure out who deserves to be his heir is via a stupid reality show!”

“I think it’s based on the Apprentice,” Nie Huaisang said from where he was sitting. “Possibly the Bachelor? I actually don’t watch that much reality television.”

“You watch the Great British Bake Off like a fiend,” Jiang Cheng pointed out.

“First, Great British Bake Off doesn’t count. Second, if this was a bake-off, your sister would win, instead of not even being here. Is that what you want?”

Both Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian shuddered.

“So, we’re all in agreement that the goal is to lose, right?” Wei Wuxian said. “No one actually wants the job of being Wen Ruohan’s heir, right?”

Nods all around.

“Doesn’t he have kids already?” Jin Zixuan wondered.

“Wen Xu and Wen Chao,” Lan Wangji said shortly.

“…yeah, fair, I’d be looking elsewhere too. They’re pretty awful – dumb and dumber. But surely there’s someone else in the family…?”

“I think they’ve been disowned. Anyway, who would want power if it means putting up with Wen Ruohan?”

Nods all around a second time.

“How will this work?” Nie Huaisang asked. “Are there, like – contests?”

There were.

Stupid ones.

Lan Wangji did his utmost best to mess up the archery competition – archery? In this day and age? – but he wasn’t quite willing to turn around and wildly shoot backwards the way Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng were doing, if only because the possibility of collateral damage made him shudder. He focused his arrows on a small corner just outside the target.

(Nie Huaisang’s arrows impressively did not reach the target even once. When asked how he had managed to pull that off despite being closely monitored to make sure he was actually trying, he proudly pointed to years of practice in fucking up his brother’s efforts at getting him to train.)

Lan Wangji was also incapable of getting a low score in the calligraphy competition, although Nie Huaisang shared in his misfortune there – being an artist did not necessarily translate to good penmanship, but in Nie Huaisang’s case it did – and naturally no one could quite compare to the atrocity that Wei Wuxian had created.

“It’s still recognizable as words, in my view,” Nie Huaisang declared after several minutes of close study. “So it should be fine to submit…you should really consider taking up abstract art, though. It’s quite nice, from that perspective.”

“Thank you,” Wei Wuxian said. “I think. Or was that an insult?”

The mathematics segment was even more disastrous for Lan Wangji – his uncle had brought him up with a strict prohibition against lying, including on test answers – and then they’d brought out music…

They didn’t even give Lan Wangji a chance to sabotage his chance, opting to just play a Youtube clip of one of his public performances on the guqin.

He was very, very good at guqin.

At least they’d done the same for Wei Wuxian and his flute – he ended up getting ranked first in music, even above Lan Wangji – but that wasn’t going to be enough to overcome his middle-of-the-road performances in the other subject.

“I think you’re going to win,” Jiang Cheng told Lan Wangji. “I’m very sorry. Seriously, and without sarcasm: I’m very, very sorry.”

Lan Wangji said nothing, but apparently his face managed to convey his misery effectively enough because Wei Wuxian came over and gave him a hug.

Lan Wangji enjoyed the hug, at least.

“Don’t worry,” Nie Huaisang said. He was fanning himself again – where did he even get a fan? Lan Wangji thought all three of the ones he’d seen Nie Huaisang pull out of his pockets had been confiscated, and surely there was a limit to how many “back-ups” a person plausibly needed – and reclining under the shade, having been thoroughly knocked out of the running during the physical portion of the competition. He hadn’t even had the courtesy to be concerned: he was, as always, secure in his uselessness. “We’ve been here for quite a while, haven’t we? Our families will be along soon enough to pick us up, and then we can forget all this.”

“What if they can’t, though?” Jiang Cheng said, wringing his hands. “I mean, we all hate him, he’s awful, yes, but he still has influence and power, for some unknown reason –”

“I still can’t believe there are people who support him. Least of all nearly half the cultivation world!”

“Less than half. Remember, we just counted.”

“Yes, yes, I know, but still. Regardless, don’t worry – it’ll be fine.”

“Surely if our families were going to do something, they’d be here already?” Jin Zixuan asked.

Jiang Cheng pointed at him. “See? Even the peacock is worried!”

“Also, what if Wen Ruohan wants to keep Lan Wangji as his heir even after we’re rescued?” Wei Wuxian wanted to know. He looked worried, which Lan Wangji appreciated. “Listen, my future boyfriend and I are not going to live somewhere named something as classless and pretentious as the, and I quote, ‘Nightless City’, okay? I refuse.”

…future boyfriend?

“The Nightless City is a perfectly decent name,” Nie Huaisang said. “For a Bond villain. Which I’m not convinced Wen Ruohan isn’t.”

Boyfriend? As in – romantic partner boyfriend?

“A Bond villain wouldn’t be this stupid,” Jiang Cheng argued.

Wei Ying’s future boyfriend?

“I dunno,” Wei Wuxian said. “There were some real stinkers, especially in the 70s…”

Did he mean Lan Wangji?

“Can we get back on subject?” Jin Zixuan wanted to know. “Lan Wangji is on the verge of being selected to be Wen Ruohan’s heir, and I’m not sure that process doesn’t involve brainwashing at some point.”

Wait, why was it future boyfriend? Couldn’t they be boyfriends now?

“I would fight them first,” Wei Wuxian declared. “All of them. Immediately!”

“Or we could escape. I know the guards took our cell phones, but I pickpocketed Wen Zhuliu’s and the GPS says we’re actually just at a warehouse outside the city.”

“We’d need a distraction, though…”

“How about we release the giant turtle?”

“Wait, that thing in the moat is a turtle? I thought it was a snake.”

“I don’t know why you expect me to know anything about amphibians.”

“It’s not – they’re not even remotely – a snake has no legs! What is wrong with you people?!”

“Unrelated, but has anyone noticed that none of the girls got brought in? Isn’t that sexist?”

“Like Wen Ruohan being sexist is a surprise –”

“I still think we need to do something before he tries to adopt Lan Wangji –”

“Do you want to go on a date with me?” Lan Wangji asked Wei Wuxian, who blinked at him, and then beamed. “Or maybe make out in the corner while everyone’s arguing?”

That seemed like something they’d both enjoy.

It was, too, right up until someone did unleash the giant turtle, at which point it was mostly screaming and splashing and all of their families coming to their rescue at just the right time.

But Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian were dating now, so overall, a good experience.

Well, mostly. Wen Ruohan sent him countless letters for the next two months asking him to consider coming back for an internship (to be paid in "experience" and "exposure", of course).

Lan Wangji burned them all.

#mdzs #wangxian #lan wangji #wei wuxian #nie huaisang #jiang cheng #jin zixuan #lan wangji's hormones #they get a special mention as a character #my fic #my fics #staringatstarsblog

619 notes · View notes

dilly-oh · 3 years

Text

Rent-a-Boyfriend

I need to get drunk, FAST, Kakashi thinks, taking a seat at the bar and signalling to the bartender. He wants to forget this evening ever happened as quickly as possible. He is never going on another blind date arranged by his so-called friends again - the guy they’d set him up with was some creepy artist with a ponytail who straight up asked to sculpt his dick, and when he politely declined, told him it was okay, size didn’t matter to him. Naturally, Kakashi’d dipped the moment the guy was distracted flirting with some other dude and scurried off to a nearby bar to drown his woes and seriously consider ghosting his friends forever.

Speak of the devil, his phone starts buzzing in his pocket, but he ignores it in favor of taking a swig of beer instead. He is NOT talking to them right now. Just because they all found love doesn’t mean he needs to as well, especially not with their ‘help’. They make it seem so easy, like he isn’t even trying. Yeah, right. It isn’t as if the perfect man is going to just fall into his-

“Oh my God, help me,” a man hisses, barging over and plopping right into his lap. Kakashi gets a faceful of long brown hair (which is quite delightful considering it’s wonderfully soft and smells like flowers) and has to repress a giggle as it tickles his nose before remembering he’s supposed to be in a bad mood. Nice hair or not, Kakashi is about to shove the stranger off when he twists around to look up at Kakashi with the most gorgeous brown eyes he’s ever seen, wide and pleading for mercy. A worried frown wrinkles his forehead, crinkling the faded scar over the bridge of his nose, and he bites his lips anxiously. Suddenly Kakashi will do anything for this man, including murder. “My asshole ex is here.” Okay, he was kidding about the whole murder thing, but he’s not above a firm talking-to. Maybe even a long-winded discussion about boundaries if need be. “Please, please pretend to be my boyfriend so he’ll fuck off and leave me alone.”

Kakashi blinks.

Pretend? Hell, he would love to actually BE this cutie’s boyfriend, where’s the application, sign him the fuck up. Kakashi almost says this aloud, but the desperate, almost wild look in the man’s eyes quiets his instinctual smartass remark and forces him to actually take things seriously for once. He nods imperceptibly and wraps his arms around the man’s waist, pulling him closer just as a douchey-looking guy with silver hair struts up, glaring at him poisonously.

“Who the fuck is this?” he spits out.

“Piss off, Mizuki,” the man in his lap snaps back. “He’s my boyfriend, obviously. Why don’t you go vape in the alleyway or something?”

“Bullshit. I don’t believe you.” Mizuki’s eyes narrow dangerously as he studies Kakashi. “...Prove it. Prove that you’re actually dating him.” The man stiffens in Kakashi’s lap.

“Don’t be ridiculous! He doesn’t have to prove anything-”

“Leave him alone, he gets enough stress from teaching brats every day,” Kakashi cuts in. The man jerks around in his lap, gaping in surprise for a moment before carefully schooling his face. “He was up late correcting papers again last night. I felt bad, so I brought him his favorite Ichiraku ramen for lunch and walked the dog for him. I even offered to play CoD with his little brother.” He leans forward, pulling the man closer to his chest protectively. “Now...why don’t you get lost?”

“...Fuck you.” Mizuki’s glare darkens even further.

“Fuck you, too.” Kakashi sends him off with a cheery wave that turns into a middle-finger once the guy’s back is turned.

“How the hell did you know all that stuff about me?” the man in his lap asks once Mizuki slithers away to lurk in the shadows. He looks up at Kakashi uneasily, almost frightened. “Have you been...stalking me or something?”

“Never met you before in my life,” Kakashi replies, then goes on to explain. “According to my friends, not only am I a smug know-it-all and complete smart-ass, I’m also incredibly observant.” He takes a deep breath and begins. “You have red ink marks on your fingertips, presumably from a cheap red pen. The only reason for you to be using one of those is if you’re a teacher, grading papers, and judging from the bags under your eyes, I can easily guess you’ve spent more than a few nights up late grading. You have a rather fresh stain on your shirt, ramen, judging from the smell, with a unique aromatic spice added to the broth that’s only used at Ichiraku - I recognize it, having eaten there a few times. I know you have a dog because there’s fur on your pants, but it’s too high up for it to be from a cat, so therefore it must be from a medium-sized dog, perhaps a Shiba-Inu going by the length of hair and reddish tint. And as for your brother, the cell-phone in your pocket has a case that is a rather unfortunate shade of neon orange. Given your fashionable outfit and kempt appearance, you’d never have picked it yourself, therefore it had to have been a gift, and a sentimental one at that. A parent would never have purchased something so ridiculous for you, and you wouldn’t actually use it if it was a gag gift from a friend, so it could only have come from a younger sibling, obviously a brother, who I assume is teenaged based off the practicality of buying you a case for your cell-phone instead of something silly or useless like a keychain.” He finishes in a rush and takes a breath.

“...Oh,” the man breathes out softly, his eyes wide with awe. Then he frowns. “Wait. How did you know about the Call of Duty thing?”

“He’s a teenager,” Kakashi snorts. “Of course he’s into fucking CoD.”

“Ugh, true,” the man laughs, relaxing in Kakashi’s arms, which he, admittedly, doesn’t want to remove. “God, is there anything you don’t know?”

“Your name and number,” Kakashi blurts out, then immediately wants to slap himself. What is he, an idiot? Hitting on this man right after he’s been accosted by his ex? That’s just...it was just-

“Damn, that was smooth.” The man leans back in his lap, looking him up and down, considering. “...I’d say you earned the name, at least. I’m Iruka.”

“Kakashi. Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.” Iruka cocks his head and hums. “You know, it was kinda hot when you went all Sherlock like that.”

“My friends wouldn’t agree,” Kakashi scoffs, deciding his arms feel quite good where they are, as does Iruka. “Especially after I ruined Asuma and Kurenai’s surprise pregnancy announcement-”

“You didn’t.”

“I thought it was obvious! Her feet were swollen!”

Iruka laughs so hard he almost falls out of Kakashi’s lap.

Almost.

“Anyway,” Iruka says once he can breathe properly again, “thanks for pretending to be my boyfriend, I really appreciate it.”

“My pleasure,” Kakashi replies with cheer. “I was more than happy to offer my services.”

“Then you wouldn’t mind keeping up the act until my ex leaves, or I do?” Iruka asks, nodding at the shadows where Mizuki is slumped over a beer, glaring at them. “What are your going rates?”

“I’ll give you a discount,” Kakashi tells him. “My only payment is you stay in my lap the entire time.”

“Deal.” Iruka grins wickedly up at him, throwing an arm over his shoulder and getting comfortable. “Although, as my pretend boyfriend, you should totally buy me a drink.” Kakashi grins back.

“Sure thing, babe.”

Maybe he won’t have to pretend for long.

(Written for @kakairu-fest KakaIru Month 2021, Day Twenty-Four Prompt: Fake Dating)

#kakairu #KakaIru Month 2021 #Fake Dating #hatake kakashi #umino iruka #naruto #kakashi is a smooth mother fucker #but not really

164 notes · View notes

bokutoslittlebird · 3 years

Text

Indebted

Day 8 of Matsuhana week: Yakuza

Summary: Left with his father’s debts, Hanamaki decides to not pay back the dangerous Yakuza boss until he’s on his knees before the man himself.

Warnings: mafia/yakuza business, threatening letters (not into much detail), minor character death (by cancer), tranquilizer gun, kidnapping, age gap, fingering, Virgin!Hanamaki, bit of corruption kink, lube, no condom, creampie

“Why does he have so much junk?” He groans, looking through another box. “Who’d have known the old man had so much stuff to hide?”

Hanamaki was digging through his ill father’s belongings. His mother was currently at the hospital while the nurses caught her up on the situation, but it wasn’t looking good. The cancer had spread to his brain, signaling his end was near. His mother, however, decided to dig into their limited money supply to see if it could be fixed, leaving them with same amount of money before his father got that new job about 10 years ago. So, Hanamaki thought he could sell some items to get extra cash.

Oh, he wasn’t planning on sharing it.

His mother had taken plenty of money he could have used for college, as well as moving out. Even now, she refused to see that her husband was a lost cause and keep the money to use on her son, but no. She’ll get all the life insurance money, as well, so it’s not like she’s in desperate need of cash. Hanamaki, on the other hand, could barely eat and make ends meet when he worked at a nearby pizza restaurant. The answer, and his reasonings, were clear.

Digging through a box he found under the bed, Hanamaki’s face changes drastically as he opens the box to find money. Wads of paper bills that could set him up for the next year, honestly. However, as he takes the money, he finds a note underneath it. Curious as ever, he decides to read it.

“50,000 yen for the Boss” is all it reads, making him tilt his head. However, more digging through the box makes him realize his dad was not just hoarding money, but rather keeping the money and giving it to this.. Boss guy. A part of Hanamaki told him it was bad news, but the other part of him needed money.

Pocketing the cash and grabbing any antiques, he left the room and never looked back.

Three days later, a proper ceremony was in place for Hanamaki’s father, who finally succumbed to the cancer eating him and left behind a widow and a son. Hanamaki’s mother was incessant on a proper burial, despite the money necessary for it. Condolence money would be given, but that money was hardly enough for someone to have a proper ceremony. Hanamaki may have spent most of his time picking bones and putting them in the urn, but he wasn’t going with his mother and uncle to the family grave, instead going back to his car.

A cheap, old car that needed a lot of money to be back into good working order, but Hanamaki liked how reliable it was. It may creak and sigh and he can’t go too fast, but he’s always to work on time and never wastes money sprucing it up. Getting to the car, however, Hanamaki saw something under his wiper. A note, most likely.

“Who-“ he sputtered, looking around the empty parking lot. He wasn’t parked illegally, nor was he in a special spot, so he wonders who left it. Reading it made him wish he didn’t.

“To the young Hanamaki Takahiro, in the wake of your father’s passing, you are to take on full responsibility and pay back his accumulated debt. Sincerely, Seijoh Family.”

Hanamaki was no idiot. He may have been able to forget about the notes and letters and the money, but he couldn’t as his eyes ran over the inked words. The Seijoh Family was a yakuza family that was well known for helping those down on their luck, as long as you could pay them back when your luck turned around. It suddenly made sense.

The lack of money and his always empty stomach, the fighting between his parents, all of it suddenly changed within a couple of days with a new promotion. Hanamaki went from eating small quantities to large ones, his house went from a small one to a nice and big one. Everything got better, but then everything got worse. It was more of a middle ground, honestly, but he could feel it slipping. His father had gotten everything he wanted and then suddenly, he needed to pay back the money he was loaned. And now, with his cremated remains in an urn, Hanamaki would be taking up his father’s debts.

Although the message scares Hanamaki, he can’t afford to let it control him. He has to go back to work and prepare for college classes soon. He can’t be worried about some creepy guy planning to kill him because he’s struggling. Even as he tells himself that, the next couple of days has him putting tips into a jar in his kitchen, sliding it under the sink and out of his sight. The money he took from his father was 10x what he makes in a week, making him worried that he’ll never be able to pay back the sum of debt.

With the dread of something bad about to happen, Hanamaki decides to push the thought away, hoping a gooey cheeseburger and soda can take the feeling away. With his dinner, a movie will be enough to take his mind off of everything. As soon as he sits down, though, he gets a wiggling doorknob. Hoping it’s someone trying to get into the wrong apartment, he waits for it to stop. When it does, he relaxes once more, only to then fly out of his seat when two people walk through the door.

They’re big, despite Hanamaki having some muscle on him. Big and dressed in dark clothing, wearing protective layers on their face so he can’t get a proper look at them. He’s quick enough to try to get away, hopping over the couch to reach the balcony when one of the guys shoots him with something. Face planting on the floor in front of the window, the last thing Hanamaki sees is the guy pull out a cell phone.

When Hanamaki comes to, the first thing he notices is the hushed whispers and he’s draped over something — or someone. His arms feel like jelly, but his eyes slowly open to reveal a corridor, dimly lit as the same two guys, he thinks, walking behind him. He’s momentarily startled awake by them, but he realizes he soon has other worries when he notices he’s entered a big room, the door shutting loudly behind him.

“Is this the one?”

“Yes sir,” one of them answers. Hanamaki is then placed down on his knees in front of the other person in the room. A glance is all Hanamaki is blessed with before his head is shoved down, almost into the floor by the guy behind him. “Head down,” he sternly says.

“Now, now. We mustn’t hurt him too badly. How else will I get my money back?” The man says, the chair underneath him creaking as he leans forward. With his head no longer forced down, Hanamaki takes another chance to look up at the man before him. Clad in black slacks and sleek shoes, Hanamaki has an easy time figuring out just who’s in front of him. The ironed white shirt had a few buttons loose, sleeves rolled to his elbows, showing enough muscles to know force was a valid option. The man himself had a smirk that made it seem as though he was playing a game with Hanamaki, further proved when his hand grabbed Hanamaki’s chin and let him get a better look. “You’re quite young, aren’t you? College age, perhaps?”

“How did-“ Hanamaki sputters, only to stop when his smirk drops. “Sir?”

“Matsukawa Issei. I’m sure you’re aware of your father’s debts, which are now your responsibility. However, I can’t see how I’d benefit from someone struggling to make ends meet. I may be cruel, but I’m also fair. If you can’t work and live comfortably, I can’t get all my money back. Do you see my dilemma?”

“You could, I don’t know, let me go?” Hanamaki suggests, raising an eyebrow. He mentally takes a point when Matsukawa’s lips tilt into a smile.

“You’re funny, but I can’t do that,” he sighs, smile dropping. His eyes then turn to the goons in the room. “Get out. I’ll discuss things in private,” he orders, each subordinate leaving. Once gone, he sighs once more as he moves over to his desk, pressing a button as shades cover the windows and the room is pitched into darkness. When the desk lamp and floor lamp near the couch turn on, Hanamaki finally gets a better look at the room.

Despite being shoved to his knees before Matsukawa as if he was placed on a throne, the room looks similar to a study. With Matsukawa leaning against a dark mahogany desk, large and almost empty aside from an old looking phone and a control board, the only thing left in the room are pictures on the wall and the spacious couch. The pillows looked so comfortable and much more expensive than the cheap couch he owns. Once Hanamaki had finished looking around, he straightened his back a bit more and looked at Matsukawa, wondering just what was going to happen.

“What’s next, then? You can’t kill me because then you don’t get money, but you also can’t just let me go because I can’t pay you back like my old man did, so we’re in limbo,” he breaks the silence first, eyes scanning Matsukawa for any instance of movement.

“You’ll still be paying me back, of course. I can’t lend you any money because of your father’s debts, sadly. Although, I’m sure you’d not want to be in his same shoes. You know what, I like you, so I’ll give you some options,” he begins walking closer to Hanamaki, making adrenaline kick in. He may not seem threatening, but he has an entire building full of people at his fingertips. As he circles Hanamaki, he continues talking. “Option one, you pay me back at your leisure. I’ll even help you a bit, of course making you pay back more, but you’re not on a time limit like everyone else. Option two, I take the money I can from you and your mother, who currently sits on your father’s life insurance money, and leave you with just enough to scrape by. Option three,” he stops, kneeling in front of a currently exhausted Hanamaki, taking his chin between his fingers until they’re eye to eye, “you let me blow off some steam and your debt will be down 10 times it’s original amount. So you don’t have to do the math, that means instead of roughly 50 million yen, you’ll be paying only 5 million. It’s quite a lot, I’ll admit, but it’s much better than what you have to pay.”

“What’s.. what does blowing off steam count as, exactly? Letting you hit me every time you get angry or something?”

“No, as in you let me use your body as I see fit. I could hit you, but I have other ideas in mind,” he says, smiling as Hanamaki’s face darkens when the gears start moving. “You can decline, of course, but that’s a lot of money. Not to mention, you’re still gonna have to pay rent and buy groceries, you may die before paying off the debt. Like I said—“

“I’ll do it,” Hanamaki interjects, relaxing his shoulders but still sitting up straight. “Despite the cliché of me paying with my body, it’s really not the worst thing in the world. I’d prefer it over you hitting me, as well,”

“The deal has been made and that means from this moment on, you and your body will belong to me,” Matsukawa says, then moves behind Hanamaki. “I’ve the perfect spot for you to lie, as well,” he practically purrs in Hanamaki’s ear, nudging him up and forward. To the desk.

“Kinda expected the couch, but it’s better than the floor,” Hanamaki chuckles, only to then gasp as cool metal slides against his skin. It’s a knife, he’s sure of it, but as soon as it’s there, it’s gone again and his bound wrists are free. Completely focused on his surroundings, Hanamaki forgot about his bound wrists until suddenly they were no longer forced behind his back. Once free, Matsukawa spins him around traps him against the desk, his hand once more cupping his chin.

“You’re a cute one. Ever kissed someone?”

“When I was 10. Some girl was dared to kiss me, but not recently,” Hanamaki breathlessly whispers, eyes drawn to Matsukawa’s lips when they’re so close. Feeling his breath ghost over his lips has him wishing for things to move a bit faster, but Matsukawa won’t give him that satisfaction.

“Some dare to kiss you hardly counts. I meant a real one,” he says in response, but doesn’t encourage a reply when his lips press against Hanamaki’s, tilting his head as his hand moves to the back of Hanamaki’s head while his other hand slips beneath the cardigan and oversized t-shirt, feeling warm skin. With his lips melding against Hanamaki’s, he finds his fingers running through pink strands as the other slips into jeans and further down, making Hanamaki tense. A swipe over the bottom lip with his tongue and Matsukawa pulls away, licking away the small strand of saliva keeping them tethered. “Like that?”

Although Matsukawa was referring to his previous sentence, Hanamaki shakily sighed as he nodded, “I did,” making Matsukawa chuckle a bit. Removing his hand from Hanamaki’s hair and jeans, Matsukawa places him on the desk. “Pretty empty for a big desk. You usually take people’s virginities on desks?” Hanamaki jokes, hoping to lighten the heavy mood, obviously unfamiliar with such serious situations.

“Virginities?” Matsukawa asks, his hands stopping at Hanamaki’s thighs before squeezing as he smiles. “I’ve never gotten the opportunity to take someone’s virginity, actually. Only taken those who thought sleeping with me would save their skin. It didn’t, but that was because it was always their idea. You, on the other hand,” he says, hands once more moving to slide under Hanamaki’s t-shirt, “are in a one of a kind situation. I’ll make sure to treat you kindly.”

“Um, small request, if I may,” Hanamaki says, hands moving from Matsukawa’s shoulders to his hands, stopping them from sliding off his clothes. “Can I keep on my shirt? I don’t feel quite comfortable being so.. vulnerable. I understand if—“

“Granted,” Matsukawa cuts him off, hands still sliding against his skin but not aiming to strip him of his clothes. After all, the main focus isn’t making Hanamaki uncomfortable but rather to send him through throes of pleasure. Hands move down, curling around the hem of his jeans as Matsukawa presses his lips to Hanamaki’s jaw and neck, making the younger man sigh in bliss. When his pants are taken off, Hanamaki flushes as Matsukawa’s fingers then gently pry off his boxers. The simple act of sliding them down his legs is made more sensual as Matsukawa kisses down his body, only to stop at his hard cock. “Excited, are we?”

“Well, you’re very good at this,” he quips back, turning his head. Instead of huffing and puffing, Hanamaki soon finds himself biting his finger when Matsukawa’s tongue slides against his cock. “I didn’t think—“

“I’m quite familiar when it comes to pleasure. Sit back and relax,” Matsukawa says, wrapping his lips around Hanamaki’s cock before putting it all in his mouth. The ease of which he takes all of Hanamaki doesn’t go unnoticed, but he’s not bothered by it as much while his hands massage the meat on Hanamaki’s thighs. Hanamaki is more bothered by it, seeing as he lets out soft moans while his teeth bite on one hand and his other curls into Matsukawa’s hair. Whines come from him as his back arches, feeling Matsukawa’s tongue lap at the side of his cock, only to then take him all back into his mouth.

While Hanamaki is busy moaning and trying to not finish so quickly, Matsukawa digs into his drawer and takes out a large bottle of lube. Its top is easy to remove without needing to see, Matsukawa slipping a couple of fingers into the cool liquid before rubbing those fingers against Hanamaki’s puckered hole. The cool sensation has Hanamaki gasping, hand moving from his mouth to grasp at the edge of the desk while his other tightens it’s hold on Matsukawa’s hair. With some more lube applied, Matsukawa slides in one of his fingers while his tongue swirls around Hanamaki’s tip. The sensations all together has Hanamaki seeing stars, a sweet mewl as he finally finishes, right into Matsukawa’s mouth.

Through his pants, Hanamaki manages to give a small apology to Matsukawa, who wipes some excess cum off his lips before licking it, locking eyes with Hanamaki as he does. He also doesn’t stop fingering Hanamaki, moving his finger in and out of him while he continues to whine from the sensations. Taking his finger out, Matsukawa applies some more lube to his fingers and pushes in two at the same time, soon adding three while Hanamaki gasps and moans, hands latching onto Matsukawa’s covered shoulders.

Once Matsukawa has deemed him ready enough, Hanamaki feels his fingers leaving while he craves more. Wiping off his fingers with a nearby handkerchief, Matsukawa then finally unbuttons his shirt and tosses it to the side, letting Hanamaki see all the muscles underneath. Despite not seeming very strong, Matsukawa had plenty of defined muscles that flexed as he stripped himself of his shirt, as well as moving to unbuckle his belt and unzip himself. Hanamaki couldn’t wait to feel those muscles under his own fingertips.

Once free of his boxers, Matsukawa applies a generous amount of lube to his cock while Hanamaki practically trembles with excitement. The sheer size of Matsukawa makes him wonder if it’ll actually fit, seeing as three fingers can’t compare to the size, but he’s always been up for a challenge. As Matsukawa lines himself up, he takes Hanamaki’s chin in his fingers one last time. “I want you to look at me while I corrupt you. Can you do that for me, Hiro?”

With such an affectionate name, Hanamaki is blushing while nodding his head, completely transfixed on Matsukawa as he slides his cock in. It’s painful, the lube only helping to ease the pain a bit and Hanamaki screws his eyes shut for a moment, only to reopen them as the grip on his chin gets tighter. “I said eyes on me,” Matsukawa practically growled, eyes darkened as he focused his eyes on him once more. Hanamaki doesn’t dare break the eye contact again, even as he desperately wants to throw his head back or roll his eyes back when Matsukawa finally bottoms out. Stretched beyond his limits, Hanamaki is finally able to lay back on the desk when Matsukawa gives him a kiss, short and sweet, letting his face go afterwards. “How do you feel?”

“Full,” Hanamaki honestly says, moving his hips a bit as he softly mewls, “very full.”

“Good enough for me,” Matsukawa says, rearing his hips back before slamming into Hanamaki. He practically yelps from the force of Matsukawa’s thrust, his ass jiggling from the impact. His reaction pleases Matsukawa who simply keeps up the force behind each thrusts, hands planted on either side of Hanamaki as he looks down at the man, enjoying each facial expression that comes across his face. Hanamaki reaches up to grab Matsukawa, bringing him closer as his blunt nails dig into his defined back. Matsukawa groans at the feeling of Hanamaki trying to mark him up, pressing his lips to his neck while his hips never stutter. One of his hands move down to lift up Hanamaki’s leg, holding his leg in the crook of his elbow as it dangles behind him. The adjusted position has him hitting deeper inside and rubbing against Hanamaki’s prostate with each thrust. Sucking a hickey onto his skin, Matsukawa feels Hanamaki tremble under him as warm liquid coats the front of his chest.

Matsukawa slows down his thrusts while Hanamaki finishes his second orgasm, cock bouncing as it gushes out the last bit of cum. Hanamaki looks exhausted, but Matsukawa isn’t quite done. Removing himself has Hanamaki confused, only for a moment, before he’s picking him up and swiftly placing him in his lap, back on his cock. “You’re still so fucking hard,” Hanamaki whines, feeling Matsukawa’s cock rubbing against his prostate again.

“Well, I’ve been told I have quite the stamina. I’ll let you take a break once I’ve had my own release, how about that?” Matsukawa says, although his silky words are mixed with soft pants, using up some of his energy to fuck. Matsukawa spreads Hanamaki’s legs, his hands trailing up thick thighs until he’s able to get a good grip, having Hanamaki bounce on his lap. Hanamaki tries to help, positioning his hands on the arms of the chair to stabilize himself, but soon finds his arms are too weak to hold up even half of his weight. Matsukawa does all the work while Hanamaki brushes his fingers through his hair, almost encouraging Matsukawa’s lips to press against the other side of his neck, adorning the skin with kisses and hickeys.

When Matsukawa’s thrusts start to get weak, he stops moving Hanamaki and groans, getting up from the chair without disconnecting him and Hanamaki. Bending Hanamaki over the desk, they’re both finishing together as Matsukawa rubs Hanamaki’s hardened cock with his hand. Hanamaki moans as he feels Matsukawa fill him up with his seed, only to give an open-mouthed moan when he feels him leave, his winking hole gushing with seed spent.

Hanamaki sees Matsukawa zip himself up and put on his shirt, thinking he’ll have to clean himself up. However, he’s pleasantly surprised when Matsukawa’s hand is gently pushed against his back while a warm and wet towel is cleaning up his mess. “I think I was a bit too harsh on you, sorry,” Matsukawa finally says, breaking the silence as he finishes cleaning up everything. Hanamaki doesn’t respond very well, his mind too hazy and body too numb to really process what’s going on. “Hanamaki, hello?” Is the last thing he hears before he shuts his eyes for the rest of the night.

#haikyuu smut #matsuhana smut #matsuhana #BB.Kinky #BB.Tweets #Mr. Issei #Mr. Takahiro #Hanamaki.Spice #Matsukawa.Spice #tw.guns #tw.yakuza #tw.violence #tw.death #tw.mafia

69 notes · View notes

starkeristheendgame · 3 years

Text

P.E.T.E.R | Android!Peter AU

TW: Non-applicable.

Three years and relentless experimentation alongside some of the biggest names in adjacent fields and biological science had concluded in one of Tony’s boldest, most groundbreaking inventions yet.

The Protection Engineered Tactical Enforcement Robot - or, P.E.T.E.R for short, was the first and technically seventh of it’s kind. It was the first to reach this stage of the process; first to become whole, ready for activation.

Seventh because prior to this all the other shells had failed. The careful craft of a body compounded from a variety of materials such as vibranium, polysiloxane and STEM cells of real flesh had been no easy journey.

So much so that Tony had almost, almost given up. His first vision had failed; Ultron a dark red stain on his ledger no amount of saving lives would ever scrub off; and attempting to perfect Ultron’s failed attempt at a new form was a seemingly impossible dream.

Until now.

He set a hand against the glass of the Cradle, watching it’s slow and careful progress. They were at the point now where everything was just finishing touches; polishing off edges and smoothing crinkles. The shell - or, body, as he preferred to call it, was ready.

And likewise, so was the AI that would directly operate within it. Crafted from JARVIS’ core and meticulously coded and raised to avoid Ultron’s boundless genocidal activism, PETER was the pinnacle of artificial, sentient defence.

JARVIS had been carefully raising the code like a child, educating and guiding it with the attentive care of a paternal figure. Tony had watched the code progress from the barest flickers of artificial life to fast rivalling JARVIS for it’s abilities.

PETER was already outperforming even the Sentinels and some of Tony’s other AI’s like FRIDAY, displaying all of Ultron’s self-learning and intuition without any of the socio-psychopathic tendencies his original attempt had cultivated. PETER was learning twice as fast as even JARVIS had, though PETER was still so young and underexposed.

It had fast outgrown Tony’s initial purpose of sentient AI used in protection detail and critical warfare in order to minimise human loss. It was even on track to surpass Ultron, the notion of the human mind recreated through code seemingly brought to life.

He let his hand drop. Three days. Three days, and PETER would open it’s eyes for the first time.

They passed by like a dreamscape. A blur of tests and activity, checks and re-checks and fending off Fury’s healthy but annoying doubts and insistence of supervision.

In the twenty-four hours before PETER went live, Tony didn’t sleep a wink. He sat on a chair besides the Cradle, staring at the still form within. The lab around him was dark, filled only with the soft glow of the Cradle’s light. It was the first and closest Tony would ever get to sitting besides a medical bassinet, watching his newborn child sleep.

“Do you think he’s ready?” he asked quietly, tracing the line of a long, lithe arm against the glass.

“I have no doubts,” JARVIS answered steadily. “But if I may, Sir, it appears that you do.”

“Ultron..” Tony couldn’t bring himself to finish.

“Goodness cannot be guaranteed even in people,” JARVIS began. “There is no law to the human mind - not yet. It is a dice roll. And in attempting to recreate the human mind, you must accept the law of chance also.”

Sometimes Tony wondered where JARVIS got so wise. It certainly hadn’t been Tony’s own wisdom passed down.

“Ultron was one possibility out of many. There was logic in his perspective; complicated and flawed as it was. But for what it is worth… I believe PETER is the roll of the dice you were hoping for.”

“Me too, J,” he murmured lowly, counting the dusting of freckles across a dished nose. “Me too.”

At exactly 10:15 on August 10th, Tony tapped his index finger onto the glowing icon that transferred PETER’s consciousness into the body specifically crafted to house it.

Three years of blood, sweat and tears condensed into a single breathtaking moment of will it work? Right now there is no intent to go further than that. Everything in the future hinged purely on the result of the initial binding. It was all well and good to use machinery to twitch a few fingers or some coding to test optic reception, but this…

This was a baby’s first breath.

Above him in the glass gallery stood Dr. Banner, Dr. Cho and Director Fury; three sets of eyes watching with expectant wariness.

Transfer complete.

With a soft hiss and a cascade of cold fog, the Cradle unlatched and the lid slowly lifted, revealing the naked form within to the outside air for the first time. The lines of lights had turned a soft blue to indicate the success of the transfer and the activation of Happy Birthday Protocol.

For several agonising moments nothing happened. A pensive silence settled over the room like the cinematic foreshadowing in a horror movie right before the creature leapt out from behind a tree, but then -

Then two sets of thick, long lashes lifted steadily upwards, revealing a set of whiskey coloured eyes, carefully shade matched to Tony’s favourite brand of bourbon in the sunshine of a Hawaiian summer.

A trail of artificial blue flared up in those irises after a moment, forming a complete ring that glowed brighter before fading. Successful initiation of the camera and imaging technology within them, Tony knew. Now, PETER was seeing. Looking through it’s own eyes for the first time rather than the borrowed lenses of JARVIS and the other Tower technology.

For the longest while, PETER only lay there. Communicating with JARVIS, he suspected. Coming to terms with existing. Figuring out who and what it was, realising it was alive for the first time. Slowly learning every inch and microchip of it’s new form.

It’s fingers twitched. It’s sculpted chest rose on a smooth, deep inhale. And then PETER sat up, moved, and they looked at each other for the first time.

Tony let him look, staring and analysing just as much as the AI. PETER had been sculpted to look somewhere between 16 and 18, a combination of features pulled from several thousand sample images and pre-analysed bodies.

PETER had turned out inexplicably pretty.

His beauty was almost effeminate. He had deep-set, almond shaped eyes framed by a generous set of lashes. His brows were long and sculpted into neat slopes; save the left, which had a curious discrepancy that gave PETER an overall quizzical look.

His jaw was sharp and his cheekbones were high and his nose was button-like and proportional. His mouth was wide and his lips were a dusky pink and his dark hair was thick and soft, ever so slightly wavy where it fell around his brows and temples.

Beyond his face PETER had been sculpted with the musculature of a gymnast, not quite slender but not the obnoxious stature of someone like Steve Rogers, either. Something a little softer, lean and deceptive. His skin was creamy and there was miles of it, unmarred and smooth, hairless.

Tony wondered what he looked like in comparison, in Peter’s eyes. Old and weathered, scarred from temple to toe. An odd mix of pale and tan where he never seemed to have the time to sunbathe anymore. Toeing the line of forty-five there was a hint of grey at his temples and while he wasn’t rocking a beer gut there was a softness to his hips that stubbornly refused to leave.

PETER’s head tilted ever so slightly.

“Did you have nice dreams, sleepyhead?” he broke the thick silence, watching those brows furrow lightly for a moment as the Ai thought about it’s answer.

“I wasn’t sleeping,” it replied carefully. Like it’s body, PETER’s voice had been crafted from thousands of samples to create something unique and personalised. The end result was something high and soft, fresh with youth and sweetness.

“Do you know who I am?” he asked next.

“Yes,” came the answer, without hesitation. “Anthony Edward Stark. You made me. Like you made the others.”

Tony clapped his hands together. “Just call me Daddy Stark,” he teased, spreading his arms.

“Yes, Daddy,” came the answer, and sweet Christ. That would have to be stopped immediately.

But PETER wasn’t paying attention to him anymore. He was looking up, gaze fixed on the figures above and behind Tony. He turned to follow the line of sight. Arden looked elated and perhaps a little misty-eyed, to her side Bruce seemed caught between amazement and apprehension and to her other side Fury was, as always, impassive and unreadable.

Tony turned back and watched PETER look, studying the neutral curiosity.

“J, how’s he doing?” he asked quietly.

“All systems are calibrated or calibrating and fully operational,” JARVIS answered into the earpiece that he wore. PETER’S gaze dropped, falling on him. Synced up to everything around them just like JARVIS, PETER could hear every word.

Tony gave a low hum then reached for the Rubix Cube on the desk. He held it out to PETER, who stared at it for a handful of seconds before reaching out. Their hands didn’t touch as PETER took it, and Tony wasn’t sure if he was thankful or not.

PETER studied the toy for a moment, then long, slender fingers flipped and pushed and pulled.

“Nought-point-twenty-five seconds,” JARVIS announced, when PETER was left sitting with the solved puzzle on his upturned palm. That was point-eleven seconds faster than the current AI record, and Tony let out a soft sound, caught between being impressed and that dark little voice that sounded too much like Howard, whispering that point-eleven wasn’t fast enough.

He took the toy away and instead held out his hand, suppressing a shiver when PETER’s soft palm fell to his. He stepped aside, thumb rubbing absently against the temperate, soft flesh of the back of PETER’s hand as he watched the AI stand.

The movement was steady, calculated, the AI finding it’s own balance before Tony let it go. PETER was four inches shorter than he was and it was a novelty to look down at someone for once.

PETER looked down at his legs for a moment, little toes wiggling against the cool floor. Then he looked up, above Tony and to the viewing balcony again.

“Do you know who they are?” Tony asked him lowly.

“Dr. Arden Cho,” PETER began, lifting a dainty hand to point. “Dr. Robert Bruce Banner. S.H.I.E.L.D Director Nicholas Joseph Fury.”

Banner looked uncertain at being pointed at and Fury was watching them with his usual cold disconnect, like a lion might watch an ant. Tony supposed it was fair, given the circumstances of his last little experiment.

“Do me a favor, kiddo,” Tony hummed, waggling his fingers at their audience with a smirk as he leaned in. “Send a little message to Fury. Tell him I can see a booger.”

PETER blinked at him, but moments later Fury’s frown deepened and the man shifted, pulling out his phone. Tony watched gleefully as Fury looked back down at them slowly.

He didn’t need a degree in lip reading to know what Fury mouthed at him.

“Excellent,” he clapped his hands.

The next week was full of tests, ranging from technological to logical and moral-based. PETER passed them all flawlessly and Tony found himself growing prouder and more enthralled.

The AI was graceful in a way that came with inhumanity - movements smooth, calculated. Never over-stepping or reaching too far to one side. Tony kept him in the Cradle when they weren’t testing him - at least until Fury was satisfied that PETER wasn’t immediately going to initiate the apocalypse, anyway.

Three weeks after PETER was ‘born’, he was given the all clear by Fury.

“Look at you, out of your cradle and into a big-boy bed,” Tony announced, opening the door to the guest room he’d set up in a mimic of a teenage boy’s, with some additions made for PETER’s special needs.

PETER roamed the room slowly, trailing his fingertips over everything and peering out of the glass wall at the city below. He stood there for the longest time, and then carefully made his way back to where Tony had stood, watching.

“Thank you, Mr. Stark,” the android whispered, reaching out. Tony automatically stiffened as slim arms wrapped around him and Peter’s head came to lay on his chest, tucked down and eyes closed.

He shifted, hands hovering. He hadn’t been hugged in… A year, maybe. Longer? Not a real hug like this. The last had been Rhodey, maybe, just days after Pepper had announced she was leaving him for good, Gucci bag in hand.

“Yeah, yeah. Okay. No problem, kid,” he breathed out, patting him atop the head. It was awkward, but it was… Nice, too. To wrap his arms around something instead of his pillow for a change.

He gently pushed PETER away after a moment, deliberately keeping his gaze away as Peter moved to the bed, sitting down on it lightly. He seemed almost surprised by it’s softness, bouncing once, then twice.

“This is… Pleasant,” PETER decided. And Tony knew it was just a comparison between the Cradle, but it still made him smile a little.

“Should be. It’s the same as mine.”

PETER’s head tipped. “Where is the logic behind using money and resources to replicate a sleeping space for a robot, Mr. Stark?”

Tony shifted, acutely uncomfortable. It felt like even JARVIS was watching; waiting for an answer.

“I intend for you to live a life that reasonably replicates that of a real person,” Tony settled on, arms folding defensively. “I’m undecided on who will have the liberty of knowing what you are. As such I have to be prepared for the outcome of peddling you as a real person. An adopted child, maybe.”

And wouldn’t the press have an absolute vulture orgy over that headline?

PETER looked thoughtful. “That would make me Peter Stark.”

Tony blinked and let out a carefully measured exhale.

Offspring has been written off way into his teenhood. He’d already seen enough of his own family to know he didn’t want to raise someone in the same potential environment, and after the birth of Iron Man, well…

“I suppose it would,” he answered steadily.

God, what a thought. He could imagine what Howard would say; seeing his son at forty, single and running around in a metal gimp suit, touting his AI creations as his family and children.

As an up-side, it was relatively hard to fuck up a child this way, he supposed.

PETER nodded. “I think I like that. I will update my PID.”

Bemused, Tony left the android to explore it’s new room, slinking into his own and stripping down to a tank and some sweats. “JARVIS?”

“Yes, Sir?”

“Do you think… Have I made a…” Tony swallowed and reclined, staring up at the ceiling. JARVIS was silent for a moment.

“If you are attempting to ask my opinion of if you’ve made a moral, safety or logistical error in the creation of P.E.T.E.R, Sir, then I feel inclined to tell you that in both ‘personality’ and function, he is closer to me than to Ultron.”

Eyes falling shut, Tony cracked a weak smile. “How does it feel to be a big brother?”

“It is quite pleasant,” JARVIS answered him honestly. “The utility robots are personalities all of their own, but it is refreshing to encounter an intelligence and function that rivals my own.”

Rolling over onto his side, Tony let the satisfaction wash over him. He didn’t know if artificial intelligence experienced loneliness, but there was something viscerally warming about knowing JARVIS had an equal companion.

“Don’t let the power go to your head, J. And don’t teach him how to swear.”

He fell asleep with a smile on his face and JARVIS’ wry answer fading slowly into the background.

The bedding dipped an inscrutable amount of time later and he jolted awake, staring into the half-darkness at the shadowed figure that slipped over it’s edge. For a moment he wondered if this was sleep paralysis or a nightmare again, but then the figure caught the moonlight.

“Peter?” he rasped, reaching up to rub blearily at his eyes as PETER pulled the covers back, sliding between them near silently. Bewildered, Tony could only watch as the android sidled up to him and tucked itself against his side and chest with a hum.

“What are you doing?” he asked, leaning back a little to blink down at him.

The AI had changed, wearing a pair of shorts and one of the shirts Tony had filled the closet with.

“In the movies, the offspring always goes to it’s parent’s bed to sleep at night,” PETER answered steadily, sweet voice muffed by Tony’s pectoral.

“When they’re… Like five. And scared,” Tony stuttered back.

“I’m two years, three months, eleven days and twenty-two hours old,” PETER informed him mildly.

Right.

He glanced helplessly up at the ceiling but JARVIS remained ominously silent, as if to say this is one you can deal with yourself.

He weighed his options. PETER had no sensibility to be offended if Tony drop-kicked him out of the bed and told him to scoot. But on the other hand…

It’d been so long since he’d slept with the comfort of someone else in bed with him. And even if PETER wasn’t real…

“Fine. But if you drool on the pillows you’re washing them in the morning,” he muttered, reaching out to push PETER’s mouth closed when the AI began to quietly explain that nothing was malfunctioning or leaking.

Tony settled for laying on his back, PETER’s silk soft hair brushing the skin exposed by the scope of his neckline. The android had been coded to mimic breathing but it was still a function the AI could control, and it was oddly reassuring to feel the steady motion and puff of warm air.

After a moment he gave into the urge and reached up, sliding his fingers into the twisted ringlets. There was no reaction from the robot and Tony wondered idly if he was doing his best to replicate human sleep.

He fell asleep attuned to it; the weight, the gentle breaths, the silk between his fingers.

It was the most peaceful night’s sleep he’d had in over a year.

136 notes · View notes

sfyristwrites · 3 years

Text

Try Part 2

Terry Pratchett's "Night Watch"

Carrot/Angua

WARNINGS : I didn't remember how... THIS, this was. Okay. I've never written anything like this before. This is a cross between bondage play and the sci-fi trope of “the aliens gave them a chemical that made them have to have sex.”

To cover the important things and maybe sound worse than it is: Third-party non-con touching, and non-con issues raised by the trope, so if that will bother you, please pass this by.

The next morning wasn’t so pleasant. For one thing, she was waking up. For another, she was much less pleasantly naked, with a stone wall at her back instead of Carrot’s warmth. There were also manacles involved.

Iron with silver threads – not a torture, but she was well and truly caught. With that determined, she risked opening her eyes. A dim, low-ceilinged room met them, dripping with condensation. Some kind of cellar, and near the river by the smell.

Her skin was aching with cold against the rough stone. There was a woman watching them from the shadows in the stairwell, and Carrot was beside her, similarly bound against the wall at a right angle to hers.

She did a slow double take as her eyes caught up with her nose. There was a lot of Carrot to be seen on that wall. Long rippling arms and legs, held splayed and tense by his chains. That massive chest and tight stomach and lean, hard hips.

They had been ambushed and they were prisoners, but her breath still caught, and a hot prickle ran between her equally fixed legs. Carrot, bound in chains and the kind of half-aroused her naked body could excuse. She whimpered slightly and forced herself to breathe.

“Ah, the bitch is awake. And in season.” A pleasant, polite voice preceded the bundled form from the stairwell. She hadn’t given the words any pejorative inflection, and she cast Angua a smile as she walked toward Carrot, examining him closely from curled toes to clenched jaw. “He is a fine specimen.”

“It will go easier for you if you let us go now- ” Carrot, as calmly as if he were free and fully dressed.

“I would. But it wasn’t I who took you. I don’t even have a key to the cell, or your manacles.”

“Are you a prisoner?” Carrot asked more quietly, prepared to sympathize and make common cause. Because he was Carrot.

The woman smiled, and turned to study Angua just as closely, and with as much apparent relish. “Of circumstances and birth. I live here, and am safe, and in exchange I provide comfort to prisoners. Do you wish water?”

Angua turned her eyes back to Carrot and remained silent. They’d unmistakably been drugged before, and could hardly fight it again in their position. The water was probably fine. But there was something – the barest trace of a scent she’d never smelled before-

But Carrot’s expression engaged all her attention. That hard jaw was slackening slightly, and he blinked slowly, several times. She searched his face and – his nose. There was a gathering pinkness in the nostrils, a tremor working its way down the nose to meet it. He stared blankly ahead, apparently trying to deny the worsening tremble by force of will.

The strange woman was watching them, but Angua didn’t care. A pleasant pulsing began between her legs as the nostrils began to twitch, once, twice, three times –

“Hahtchoo!!” Carrot’s face froze again as Angua fought to breathe. It was as if a hot band had closed around her breasts. She watched the pink deepen to red, and Carrot fight not to let a muscle move, and the lip arching upward on its own as the nostrils suddenly surrendered to the trembling, darkening another shade as, “Hyahtchih! Hah-hah … Huhhh…” Her nipples were so hard they hurt. Carrot, bound, beautiful, failing to fight off a “Hahtshoosh.”

The woman’s hand touching lightly between her legs jerked her attention closer. Her clitoris was full of blood, and even an uninvited touch brought sensation.

The woman’s smile was bright and innocent. “Oh, that was nice. It pleases you.” She walked over to Carrot, who was staring at her, shocked. She reached and ran a finger behind his balls, then up his shaft, which rose slightly to follow it. “It seems it pleases him, too. That’s always best.” She reached with the finger, now scented by both of them-

And placed it right on the tip of his still lightly quivering nose. Angua couldn’t help it, something was making it hard to think, but the only scent she cared anything about at the moment was reaching out to her body from that wall. She held her breath and stared as his nose mimicked his lower organ, rising as the woman’s finger passed upwards, desperate now for contact, the still reddening flesh beginning to spasm helplessly with every breath.

The woman sniffed, then smiled up at Carrot and ran her finger, much more delicately, back down. Carrot’s entire expression surrendered to give testimony to aching, desperate need. Then the woman got back to the tip, paused consideringly, then rubbed a small, so small, circle. Just the very tip, as the blood continued to heat the nostrils which instantly went into spasms.

Carrot gasped and threw a wild look at Angua, even as his expression weakened, his nose trying desperately to rise into the feathery touch. His entire body was somehow a single plea for relief.

“What do you feel?” the woman asked quietly. Carrot seemed compelled to answer.

“A sn… A snuh… Ahh… My nose. Itches. Huh. … Please.”

Angua gasped and fought against her shackles to clench her thighs.

“What do you ask?”

“I nuh… I nuhhuh. I need to… I need to s- snuh … sn- sn- s- suh-“

Angua moaned.

“I need to sneeze!” he rushed out, giving up any last attempt at composure and straining into the pressure of her finger.

She withdrew it.

Carrot’s eyes widened in naked despair, then tightened to show an agony of disappointed desire.

“What causes this?”

“Pleah! hehhhn… Please?”

She raised her finger, held it just out of reach of the thrust of his straining, pulsing nose. “What?”

“Dry hyehh… bread mo- mo- ahh… Oh!” He froze and drew a long, sniffling breath that seemed to torture him, his nose working furiously. “Mold. Dry bread mold. Please- hyahhh!!“

The finger returned, dodging the lunge to rub and directing instead the pinprick of a nail to scrape up the septum, no soothing intent in the proffered relief. Carrot made a desperate sound and lunged again. The woman hovered just out of reach and waited until he stilled, making wild little sounds, to almost casually place her finger back at the tip and begin rubbing in tiny, firm circles.

The relief on Carrot’s face, the need on the burning edge of satisfaction, made a pounding begin between Angua’s legs, then thundered with the exulted look of release as, out of a deep, drawn-out groan, “Huhhhuhhtsh–tshh- tshh- tshTCH– hahhtchoo!! Huh TSH!! Ihhtsh –huhitshtsh!! TSHH– TSHH!! Tshh-tshh–tshh-hyahhhhtshhooo!!! Snf! Snflsnf! Ssnnff! Snf- snf- snahahhhtshtchoo!!! Hihhtchoo!! Hyatsh!! Oh… Uhhh…”

The woman rubbed his bowed head fondly, then almost absently let her hand fall to rest on his trembling cock. He jerked up and gasped, then shuddered all over as her thumb pressed the slit. His hips rose, and the trembling from the bridge of his nose set the blood red nostrils flaring wildly.

“Come, then,” the woman said kindly, and touched the tip of his nose.

“Ahh- ehheh – Ah! – hyehh– Ahahah! – Hyahhhtshhooo!!! Ahh!”He hung, trembling, in the aftermath of the sneeze and the orgasm, seemingly equally affected by either. The woman patted his head kindly and was rolling Angua’s nipples between her fingers in the next instant.

Angua howled. A part of her mind was observing the events in a combination of intrigue and horror, but every cell in her body rose to the touch, as she closed her eyes and listened to Carrot’s post-coital sniffling, imagining his head against her chest in that state in their own bed.

The woman leaned forward and whispered, “I will make him desperate to sneeze, and desperate to stop, and he will put his nose between your legs and sneeze violently, again and again and- “

“I- I have to…” Carrot’s voice, coming into the fantasy devouring her mind to burn in her veins. He sounded weak and exhausted and precisely like he had in her dreams. “I have to… sneeze… ” he whispered, despairing.

The woman’s fingers found her clitoris in the instant with Carrot’s struggling, over-powering, “Uhhh- ah-ah – hhyehh… Hhytshahhtchoo!!!“

Carrot’s guttural moan was the last thing she heard, the beginnings of a pathetic sniffle, as she threw back her head and howled the joy of coming like an explosion.

They were left alone for some time after that. They hung, barely sensate in their chains, only struggling weakly to straighten occasionally to keep from suffocating, barely coherent enough even for that.

Whatever the strange scent was, the woman seemed to’ve taken it with her as she retreated back into the shadows beneath the stairs. When Angua was finally able to lift her head and get her eyes to focus, she found it much easier to focus her mind as well.

Anger slammed through her veins, more suffocating than the silver. She couldn’t look at Carrot, but her own humiliation gave her a baseline to guess what she would see.

Carrot was such an innocent in some matters, still capable of being reduced to abashed, blushing stutters by Nobby’s secret copy of Klatchian Secret Gardens. To have a strange woman- And in that way- Not to even think about the strangeness of the rest of it yet-

That she had been molested herself, that something had left her so out of herself that she’d given herself to her response to his molestation- none of that was to he considered at all.

“Angua?” His voice was as subdued as she’d anticipated, if a lot more self- possessed. “Are you hurt?”

Not ‘all right’. At least he didn’t try to ask that. “There’s silver in the cuffs; not enough to do much, but I can’t Change. Other than that, just really hacked off.”

“What… something was… Was there magic, or was there something else happening?”

Her chest hurt. He was out the other side of embarrassed into a version of his usually infuriating Carrot imperturbability that made her teeth ache. The wolf wanted blood for the very primal insult done by hurting her mate in such a way.

She tried to think through her rage and the haze over the past few hours. “Not at first. I woke up and was kind of groggy, with whatever that powder was, and the silver. But there was nothing new. Until that woman – she was in the room the whole time, but after she came forward, I smelled something. Nothing I recognized at all.”

Which was unprecedented. It could be magic, maybe some herb witch stuff.

“Is it- is any of the new smell still here ?”

“No.” She looked up finally, studying him from under her eyelashes, wondering at the question. He looked tired, but more composed than he had any right to. He was looking away from her, studying the area under the stairwell intently. “Why?”

He glanced at her, then looked down when he realized her eyes were on him. “It obviously made us extremely susceptible to suggestion. Right now, my mind feels clear.”

“Yeah, me too.” Even if she wished it weren’t.

“I want the woman to come back. I want to talk to her. I think she’s a victim, that she didn’t mean us any harm. I’m not sure – I don’t know if I can trust my instincts.”

And suddenly it made sense that Carrot was so far beyond being disturbed by being touched. He made the world go ’round by his assessments of people, by persisting in them in the face of all evidence until he was proven right. Having that shaken was more of a violation than anything else could be.

This, at least, she could honestly remedy. “Did she speak to you or do anything to you before I woke up?”

“No.”

“When she was- When she did what she- did. Did you feel like she was inside your head? I mean, like a witch. Or was it just- what she said, what she- what she obviously expected.”

He took a while to answer that. Finally, carefully, he said, “I didn’t feel like she was in my head. Or that I was, either. It was like she read me and, and made her, did everything and said everything just right to make my body- make me not just do but want to do- everything.”

They hung there, not looking at one another, and Angua thought the combined heat of their flushed skin was about to set the air on fire. “But it was like she was reading me. And drawing me. Not compelling me.”

That was exactly what Angua had experienced and nothing she wanted to hear. Before he could go on, doing his Carrot thing of worrying things to death, she said, “Well, I want to rip her throat out. So if she doesn’t have some kind of controlling-thoughts-while-touching, then I don’t think we need to worry.”

“Oh.”

Thankfully he stopped at that, and they stood in silence. She heard the clink as Carrot tested his chains. Apparently he was as well-bound as she, because he stopped after a moment. Even if he got loose, she couldn’t imagine how they were going to get out of the cellar.

The stones were the ancient, huge blocks that no amount of crumbling mortar would allow two people to shift, and the only visible door was steel-bound bolted steel. Wherever the woman had retreated to, the whole level was probably the same foundation.

“You want the woman to come back. So you can talk to her.”

“She said she was here because she was safe. Safe from what? That her charge was to offer- comfort. She seemed to be- enjoying, pleased, by our… by our… positive… She didn’t seem to be trying to hurt anyone. I’m not sure she would understand why we would object-“

“No one’s that naive.”

“If this is all she’s ever known… But I was going to say, I’m also not sure if we’ll be able to object once she comes back. I wonder if she even knows she’s doing it.”

Angua bit back another protest and suppressed the tang of fear in her mouth. Carrot wasn’t arguing to defend the woman’s virtue, he was analyzing their situation. His reasonable approach made her teeth grate.

To her eyes, their best bet was in that Vimes had doubtless been turning the city inside out from the moment he got the report on their little disturbance.

Before they could discuss anything further, a sound from under the stairwell drew both their eyes. The shadows seemed to part, and suddenly the woman in her bundle of clothing was standing there as if she had never left.

“‘You are a witch,” Angua growled, starting off the wall to come up against her chains despite herself.

The woman looked at her in unoffended curiosity. She stayed in her spot. “He said “object.” What would you object to? I am here to offer comfort. I bring pleasure – I let you experience your own desires without restraint. In this life I’ve found that little else will ease the suffering of prisoners.”

“In our lives,” Carrot said slowly, “We believe that control over when we indulge our desires is very important. Is she correct? Are you a witch?”

She spread her hands. “I am as I am. I can do only what you have seen. There are those who have desires they would kill before allowing the world to see. Those I do not comfort. Those he deals with.”

“He.”

“He. He is the one who protects me. The one who will return, in time, to speak with you. Until then I will give you what comfort I can.”

“What if-” Carrot spoke hastily, before Angua could do more than lean against her chains again. “What if our comfort would be served by your- not comforting us.”

“It is what I am.” For the first time the woman looked distressed. “I cannot be here with you and let you need. Even now, your thirst gnaws at me. Only your desire to be free can I resist, because I have no power to alleviate it. Will you take water?”

Angua’s throat felt like ashes, so she couldn’t object when Carrot nodded. “We would be grateful for water. Can it be only water, for now?”

The woman looked relieved and more distressed at once. “For now.” She seemed to pick a pail up from the air and moved forward slowly, visibly struggling with something. She held a dipper to Carrot’s lips, then approached Angua even more diffidently. Angua made things easier by leaning slowly into the slack until there was no room left to lunge.

The woman stared at her after she finished swallowing, eyes searching her face. She raised her fingers, but left them hovering just above the skin of Angua’s face. The strange scent, barely discernable as the woman came close, was suddenly in her nose. She snarled before she could stop herself, and the woman hastily backed away.

Her face crumpled in distress, and the scent faded more quickly than her retreat. “Why are you angry?” the voice was almost agonized. “It’s such a simple need, but so strong. You must’ve burned for so long.”

“Whatever you think you know-” Angua cut herself off, but the woman was already answering eagerly.

“You burn for his body, and you burn for the desperation of his reaction. Why do you not want this need satisfied? And you.” She turned to Carrot and raised her hands again. “Your need is even stronger, and even simpler to relieve. You desire to react – you ache for it in your body. It’s a bright, new need. You will never take such comfort from it as you do now, and I can give you that comfort more purely than you will ever find again.”

This time Angua didn’t avert her eyes as the flush gathered in Carrot’s entire body. “You’re right.” He swallowed and raised his head. “I had that – reaction – for the first time in my life last week. It was an unexpected pleasure. Angua is a werewolf – she sees the world in smells. Since then, she’s encouraged me to find a way to repeat the experience, for my pleasure and because she takes pleasure in my pleasure. Which, because of her discernment of scents, I couldn’t hide from her.”

Angua hadn’t even made that connection, but the consideration distracted her from mortification that he had known what she wanted all along.

“But it is her choice to use her insight to attempt to prompt me to choose to indulge myself. Whatever service you have been forced into, you don’t have to use your insight to demand indulgence. And we can protect you. Come away from here with us. You can live, and never have to participate in harming people ever again.”

The woman shook her head. “I know I offer no harm. I create nothing. Your need burns in me even now. I do not control your reaction – that is in the air itself. You fight it even now. Whether I comfort you in that or not, you will give in. And then your need will burn me, and her need will ignite to burn me. Why- “

“You feel our desires in your own body?” Angua interrupted, horrified.

“Only that you need. And then I discern your need.”

Carrot looked disturbed. “It really seems an odd coincidence. Are you certain you cannot-“

“I am what I am.”

Angua slumped against her wall and closed her eyes. Her need ignited the craziness? So she would control her need. Libido off, right? Right.

Carrot spent a few more minutes making his ”we can help you” pitch, but the woman remained locked in her seemingly honest confusion. When she had finally absorbed that they truly did and would continue to object to her offered “comfort,” she retreated back to her place beneath the stairs, saying only, “I am what I am. I will do what I can do. She sees the truth of the world in scents. I see it in other ways. The truth, now, is that you do not want my comfort.”

She would say nothing else. She disappeared into the shadows again, but this time neither of them were prepared to trust that she was really gone.

Angua couldn’t stop herself from studying Carrot as they stood there in silence, wondering despite herself at his words. He couldn’t have been more clear. He had sneezed for the first time in his life in the granary that day, and it had aroused him. The thought of that, of-

No. No. She would think about that later, after they were free.

Still, she watched him. She couldn’t get it out of her head, what the woman had said, what Carrot had seemed distressed to confirm.

“So, that, mold. You can smell it here?”

She hadn’t meant to ask that. It seemed to startle him, and she saw his penis twitch slightly. Just the thought of it could make him-?

No. No. She was not thinking about this.

“You can’t?” That he could look abashed and incredulous while chained to a wall was ridiculously adorable.

“We’re near the river. I can smell fifty kinds of mold without taking a deep breath. I don’t know which particular one it is. How can you sort it out?”

He swallowed and breathed deeply, and she saw both his nose and his penis suddenly twitch. “By its effect.”

Of course.

“I think we’re both still under some influence. Whether she means for us to be or not.”

He was looking almost cross-eyed down the length of his own nose. She suddenly couldn’t take her own eyes off of it, so he was probably right. The trembling was starting again at the arch, and though he seemed to be keeping his nostrils still by a moral effort, they were shading toward pink again.

“Carrot, I think- I think- “

“I know. I- snnff!” He shivered slightly, then offered her a very small smile. “I’m shackled to a wall, and all I can think about is how much I would like to blow my nose. No one could ever say we don’t have interesting lives.”

She suddenly imagined doing that for him, covering his nose in soft cloth, rubbing lightly-

She groaned and tried desperately to clench her thighs against the pull of the chains. She made herself grit out, “It’s certainly never boring.”

“Angua?”

“Yes?”

“I’m going to- I am going to have to- to sneeze again.” He breathed carefully, started to sniffle again, then breathed out in a huff instead. The word alone brought an even stronger twitch from his penis. “And I can’t seen to control the- other. Either other.”

“Either?” she was beginning to pant as a drawing sensation gathered in her nipples again. She noticed distantly that the woman had reappeared a few feet away, but she couldn’t make herself care. She was aching inside.

“Before, I seemed to have to- to talk about- it.”

“Just- Carrot, just, stop fighting it all.”

“My nose has been itching for so long, and the, the sneezing before, I need to blow my nose so badly, and when I sneeze it’s going to be so wet-“

Somewhere in that explosion of words he’d thrown his head back and relaxed into the wall, his hips thrusting forward as a flood of blood raised him toward full arousal. She shuddered all over and sank down into her chains.

The woman stepped to stand just in front of Carrot. Despite giving herself over to the experience of scent, Angua cracked her eyes in time to see Carrot look down at the woman. He looked tired and flushed, and his expression was a contrasting waver between complete dispassion and wild unspecific hope.

The bridge of his nose trembled, and he was breathing through his mouth to keep from sniffling and irritating nostrils that were shading much more quickly into red this time. The woman didn’t touch him, just stood staring until his breath began to quaver.

“You want my comfort now,” she stated simply. “Tell me how. What, exactly.”

“My nose,” Carrot whispered. His voice was thick with the gathering congestion in his sinuses, and Angua saw a glint of moisture at the rims of his nostrils. “Please. I don’t- heh don’t want to, to s- to-“

Angua couldn’t tell if his hesitation was due to mounting irritation or the mounting arousal at thought of the word or the act. His hips shifted restlessly against cold stone, and Angua growled silently in want.

“-to sn-sneeze hehhhn … like this. A- a handkerchief. Could you- ?”

“You had only to ask.” The woman slowly drew a piece of cloth from her wrappings, only to study it consideringly while Carrot writhed.

“Ah-hah hahh! ” He was sweating in the cool air from the effort not to breathe through his nose. When she just stood there, seemingly lost in contemplation of the fabric, he gasped out, “Pleads! Hur-huh -hurry! Hyahhh– Hah! Huhhhh… Hah!! I’m about to, uhhh…uhhhh– I’m about to, s- snneeze–ahhuh- yihtshhtshtshtshpshhhyitchipshooo!!!Uhhh…..”

The women had moved in the last instant to capture the overpowered nose, and Carrot groaned deeply in relief after bowing his head into the blows and drenching sneezes. He hung there, shuddering, while Angua couldn’t repress a strangled howl.

Carrot started to raise his head from the cloth, but the woman’s hand went with him. He closed his eyes and sniffled deeply, and was so affected by it she saw the tip of his cock begin to glisten as well.

The woman’s hand was moving slowly, stroking the violently quivering bridge, patting at nostrils that spasmed without the help. She kept touching, and touching, and touching, until Carrot struggled away and burst out “nih! No! You hayehh! hehhh- You’re going to- tehh-“

His voice, breaking into breathy weakness, made Angua take a slow, deep breath of her own, and felt sensation flow out through her limbs in a slow wave.

“To make mehh– ehh- ehhuh- ehh!” He was still struggling, just his head, and the woman was wordlessly, patiently, following him, pat pat pat. “Stop…” He managed that clearly, unconvincing, his voice becoming heavy as congestion returned.

And she stopped, pulling her hand away and regarding him calmly as he almost thrashed against the stone. “Tell me what you want.”

His lower body was writhing upward, obvious in its need. Angua’d never seen him so hard. His nostrils were an equally fierce scarlet, his whole face contorting around his trembling, desperate nose. But in proof of his second “either” what he managed after a pleading groan was, “Ask me.”

The woman radiated gentle sympathy. “‘Your nose- what does it feel like? What does it need?”

He closed his eyes and gave several harsh pants, and Angua felt herself come, disappointingly, unspectacularly, in pure conditioned response to Carrot’s completion. She heard a single, sharp, “Tshh!!” She gasped a bit, and sank down into the sharp, shallow pulsing with a swallowed moan.

Her eyes shot open again when his scent didn’t change. He was shuddering, and his penis was glistening, but he’d held himself back from the edge. His eyes were wide and unfocused, and his jaw was slack.

The woman gave him a few moments, and slowly his eyes focused slightly, just enough to show his fevered attention was not with his tormented lower muscle. His voice was low and hoarse. “It- it itches. All the way inside. Up into my head, there, where Abol reached, he reached, ahh!” He bowed his head with a shudder, and Angua felt her body quicken again, raw and unexpected. “And the tip. The tip feels like flame, and so full, m- my nose is so full. Huhh!“

His hands were clenching and twisting, his hips were doing the same, but his attention seemed consumed by the virgin experience of his tormented sinuses. “It’s pressure and it’s so wet and it soothes the itching and makes me itch, and if I sniffle its so wet but it sets me on fire. “

The woman turned to give Angua a small smile. She seemed genuinely delighted by Carrot’s overwrought rambling. Turning back to him, she raised the hand still holding the cloth and asked, “And when you blow?”

He groaned and twisted. Every muscle in his face seemed to’ve woken to give testimony to his continuing, gathering distress. “Such release. From so far inside. And the tip. The flame, the cloth is so cool.” His voice was getting heavier and heavier, and the hint of wetness was touching his nostrils again, sending them into tiny twitches.

“Tshh!! ” She watched him that time, and understood why it hadn’t sent him over the edge before. That was no release, just a harsh payment for momentary reprieve. His head hung, his nostilis flared rhythmically, and he gasped a slow, shuddering breath as his nose began to truly run.

“You want to sniffle,” the woman observed. “Why do you deny yourself?”

“Too- too much… Pleaths.” His eyes were actually pleading now. “Let me- hayhee! Hehhhn… Before I- hahuh- pleads-“

Angua felt absolutly drained, unable to struggle against her bonds, even to clench her thighs. A hot tide was pushing her body somewhere it’d never been.

The woman lifted the cloth above Carrot’s face, and he looked up with a look of almost transcendent hope. With a slow flutter that had him thrusting upward, his entire face a spasm of need centered around his hot, pulsing, trembly nose, she brought her hand down.

She maintained her paced descent, wrapping his nose in the cloth, allowing him room as he shuddered and burrowed, fighting to draw enough air to blow as his breath began hitching frantically, pausing only when his head jerked upward, struggling against his will.

His face cleared the cloth, tendons standing out in his neck evidence of his protest. “heh- heh- heh-! hehhhnn- het! het! No-! Khih-heh-!“

Angua’s hands fisted, and a growl started deep in her chest. She wanted to snatch the cloth from the woman and give Carrot relief. That the woman would only be doing precisely what Carrot desired was a distant thought.

“Hyahhhtshhooo!!! Ahh!” He didn’t avail himself of the handkerchief, but his face looked miserable, and he turned his head back and forth, moaning. “No, I- I can’t. Not… Not… Hehhh! Not again…” He obviously wasn’t breathing through his nose, and it was beginning to drip. “I don’t want to, to- hah! to sneeze like this- oh. Uh. hyahhh!! huh-huh-psh!!”shoo The messy sneeze shook his entire body. He gave another groan and seemed to sink in on himself, expression bereft and miserable, but muscles lower down expressed an entirely opposite sentiment.

He hung there, his breath a series of snuffles, instantly aborted, that rapidly grew more desperate. The woman put a light hand on his bowed head, petting him gently, and brought the cloth butterfly-delicately to his nose, cleaning him up with a quick gesture, then hovering just before him as his nose reacted to the touch with a subtle trembling that seemed to set his veins on fire.

“Blow,” the woman told him.

The command brought his head down with a sag of relief. The touch of the cloth set his breath hitching and he whimpered. “Huh–uh! Huppshsh!!Tshshhh! Tshtshhtshhhhh!!” After the fifth sneeze he managed to blow, caught his breath, and blew again.

The woman gently cleaned him up again, refolded the cloth and gave his flushed but cooling nostrils a final pat. “This mold, it did this to you before?”

“Just once.” His voice was barely audible. “I only – sneezed – once before.”

“I am not causing this difference. Perhaps the longer you’re here- hmm. I have heard of such a thing. Just a tiny bit of something inhaled, for a while, then eventually just a tiny response. But if it happens again, if it happens for hours, if it touches again and again and again, then eventually the response- I believe it’s called hay fever…”

Angua heard Carrot whimper, then his fists clinched and he gave a long, purposeful sniffle that reversed itself into, “itch! itchch! Hsh! Tchhsh!!“

The woman’s free hand fell to the long-neglected need lower down, as Carrot caught his breath and, “Hyahtsh!! Hahahhtsh!! Hyahtshtshh!! Hyahtchoo!! Hahtchootchuh! Hahuh! HyahhCHOO!!! Aaaah!” His final cry rose and then trailed into a gutteral, snuffling groan.

Angua felt a flash of lightning heat and, for the second time in her life and in five minutes, came untouched.

It was a literally screaming improvement over the first time.

"Sorry.”

”No. Sorry, I mean-“

”I know. I mean-“

“Yeah.” Angua pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead, then blew out a short huff of breath and shook her head. ”No. We’re being stupid.”

She’d surfaced from comfortable grayness lying on her side on the cold flagstones, looking into Carrot’s still-slumbering face from a distance of a bare foot or so. She’d started up, a blank redness filling her mind and set on mayhem before any concious thought registered, and had come up against the burn of the silver-threaded manacles after a single long stride.

They weren’t freed; long chains had been attached from the wrist cuffs to the bolts at floor level. There was a bowl with chunks of boiled meat and vegetables that she’d narrowly missed kicking over, and a large tankard of what smelled like rather good ale.

Carrot’s eyes opened as she sank back down, feeling a wave of weariness follow the brief rush. They hadn’t spoken or looked at each other as they’d carefully shifted so they could both reach the food their bodies were crying for, Angua not even concerned, for once, with eating meat in human form. Mumbled apologies came at every accidental brush of fingers, until Angua spoke.

Carrot sighed and sat back slightly, flexing his shoulders against stiffness, gift of the cold and his struggles in his chains. “Is it- ” he stumbled, and then started again more strongly, actually looking directly at her, although she wasn’t at all ready to look at him, yet. “I’m- this is all very- hard,” he said, with typical Carrot understatement.

He gave a frustrated jerk that rattled the chains. “We don’t even know who took us yet, or why, or anything that matters. We haven’t had any time to think. I’m beginning to wonder if that’s not the point of this – all this.” She could feel the heat coming off him as he flushed, fiercely.

“All this,” she agreed softly. Carrot, angry, truly angry, was rare and disconcerting and made the wolf howl deep inside at the cause. She did the harder thing, and spoke reasonably instead of indulging it. She didn’t like the rare times when it was her turn to do that.

“But it isn’t. I think you were right. She really doesn’t understand – anything. Before my brain shorted out, I could smell it. She was – enjoying it all.” And she couldn’t quite keep a growl out of that and didn’t care. “But it was like a child. She isn’t a sadist or a pervert. She doesn’t get it.”

The twitching tension under his skin eased as she looked at him. “So if it is the point, she doesn’t know she’s being used. All right.” He closed his eyes and blew out a breath. “All right. So. That’s what I really thought already. And that’s what makes it all harder. Isn’t it?”

She didn’t answer because it would’ve been a shout, and this was so very much harder for him.

“She is an innocent. She’s exactly what she says she is. Which means it’s all us.”

Angua closed her eyes briefly, but didn’t turn away. Finally, “Yes. All right? Yes. There wasn’t a damn thing in any of it that I didn’t want. Other than her being part of it, and since she’s the one doing the ‘reading’ or whatever… It’s all horrible. It’s force. But once I realized it was only exactly what you wanted- yes, I enjoyed it. Watching you. Whatever that smell is turns off all the inhibitions. You wanted it whether you wanted to or not and that was enough. And I’m sorry.”

“It was what I wanted.” He tried not to, but he ended up staring at his hands. “It was the most perfect- But I wanted it to be you. That was all I could think of. That it should be you. I didn’t care that I hadn’t chosen it.” He swallowed, hard, and his voice continued husky. “She isn’t here, and there’s no smell, and I’m so weary everything aches, but even right now, if I could-“

“Well, we do have a bit more chain.” She meant it lightheartedly, but he looked smaller than he usually did, unlike even those few times she’d seen him frustrated and at a loss and tired enough to let it all get to him. She knew him. A dwarfish upbringing didn’t lend itself to openly considering or discussing sexual appetites, even with the person you indulged them with. Teasing him now wouldn t lighten things up for him. It would just be cruel.

Even as she was thinking that, she realized he was looking directly at her, intensely enough that his body had gone still. And his scent…

”Carrot, good gods… ” lt was somewhere between a breath and a groan, and when she met his gaze it shifted from groan down into growl. The sheer, unbelievable, naked hunger of the man caught her breath in her throat and sent a heat coiling through her she hadn’t imagined she still had the strength for.

Her response, the rising heat, the spreading flush moving over her skin, waking sensation, melting under, welling heat through her veins with her speeding heartbeat, made him groan and curl in on himself, drawing his knees up to wrap his arms tightly around them, pressing his face down for a moment. He raised it, flushed, struggling, his lips tight, writhing, finally smoothing to a smile that hurt her eyes.

”Sorry. I’m not- I shouldn t be -” He shuddered, a subtle deep thing that seemed to shift him to his bones. After an uneven breath, he managed a smile that didn’ t look as if it would break and cut him. Still lost, beyond confusion or frustration but- better. “Angua, I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m sorry.”

She just stared at him until she could breath, then used it to give a low, darkly ironic laugh. ”Carrot, we’ve been attacked, taken, shackled to a wall, had our minds read and our bodies played, and left to lie on cold concrete after being driven to our limits and left in a muddled, hormonal daze. How the hell could you possibly, at this point, begin to know what you’re doing? l don’t even know what I ‘m saying right now, and I can hear myself as l go.”

It got a much, much better smile, actual humor, and she counted it a victory even as she struggled to calm down after giving in to the rant. Finally she added, looking very pointedly at her drink, “If I wasn’t afraid she’d come back and watch, I’d still want to, you know. It was – the most perfect.”

She heard Carrot’s breathing speed up. The scent of his arousal – which had eased only enough that she could make sentences – surged across again, deep down inside her when she drew breath. She expected another apology, more shame.

Instead he said, in a voice that had once led to them having sex against a wall with all their armor still on, “It was. And me, too.”

~~tbc?

There is a partly written Part 3 to this that has sat around for years but may see the light someday soon.

Comments and criticism welcome. ;)

#sfyrist writes #snzfucker #sneeze kink #sneezing #snz kink #cw noncon #cw noncon touching

37 notes · View notes

limitlessgojo · 3 years

Text

Blood Bound: Red Strings of Fate (Ch. 11)

Warnings: Action, Coarse Language, Fighting, Descriptions of Blood

Previous Chapter: Invisible Ties

Next Chapter: Goldenrod

Tags: Soulmates AU, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Fem!Reader

Taglist: @lessie-oxj @rizzo-nero @whoreuc @fkngkumiko @isl3t @gojoussunglasses @onepotatostand-blog @s-t-f-u-b-i-t-c-h @sunaswife

Notes: If you want to be tagged for every update, please mention it in the comments below ty <3

Additional notes: This is so funny but I made a mistake in assuming the previous Goodwill event was held in Tokyo. Rewatched JJK and found out it was in Kyoto so I had to rewrite it XD.

Chapter 11: Kyoto-Tokyo Goodwill Event

Breakfast was a quiet affair. He brought out a short table and you had the meal side by side.

It was grilled salmon and miso soup. You both stole glances at each other when the other wasn't looking.

A domestic life with Noritoshi. Yeah you could get used to this. "Thank you for the meal Noritoshi." You smiled and offered to wash the dishes.

He stood behind you in the small kitchenette as you did, humming softly to yourself. Noritoshi was holding your waist gently and leaning his forehead against your shoulder. Thumbing small circles into the sides of your hips.

You quietly smiled at yourself, not expecting Noritoshi to love physical affection this much. After washing the dishes, you laughed as you placed your ice cold hands on his neck, forcing him to let go of you and flinch back with a frown.

Leaving Noritoshi’s dorm after breakfast had terrible timing apparently. You bumped into Todo senpai on your way out.

“Ah.” You both stared at each other for a bit. Noritoshi was still behind you, the door to his dorm room open. It didn’t help that you had your pillows and blankets in your hands.

And you were still in pajamas.

“So is this like a thing now? Congratulations on getting together.” Todo smiled down at you.

“Ah uhm- we- I- “ You stuttered, but Noritoshi wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you to him.

“Yes we are dating. And what of it?” He stared Todo down. You were flustered but incredibly pleased upon finally hearing a solid label between the two of you.

Todo just grinned. “So you actually have decent taste in women huh Kamo?”

“The best.” He replied dryly. You flushed and whined at Noritoshi, pawing at his robes. He just pulled you closer and hid your face in his chest.

“Didn’t know you had this shy side Tsuchi chan.” Todo was laughing. He bid both of you goodbye, and by the end of the day the entire campus knew both of you were dating.

But of course the both of you didn’t know it yet. “So…. you’re my boyfriend now Toshi?” you reached up to twirl his hair in your fingers as you made your belongings float in midair.

His eyes sparkled at the nickname. He leaned down close to you, “So it seems. Are you unhappy?”

“No. I’m happy.” You leaned up to press your lips against the corner of his.

Noritoshi sent you off, only letting you go after he had gotten a huge hug from you with a deep kiss to the cheek. He realized with a small jolt that he was pretty much touch-starved (no surprises there).

Wishing for more of your hugs and kisses already, and you just left for a few moments. He sighed heavily and shook his head.

Later that day, you bumped into Miwa as you were leaving your dorm. It was the weekend so you all had no classes and missions. She hesitantly called out a “Congratulations. You finally got together with Kamo senpai yeah?”

You looked at her in surprise. “How did you-”

“Todo senpai.”

“That man really doesn’t keep his mouth shut.”

◇◇◇

It was a different experience, having the other students tease the both of you about your new relationship as a real boyfriend and girlfriend. You felt weird by calling him your lover.

"I called it!" Mai proudly smirked down at you. "We all did Mai chan." Momo senpai giggled, bumping her hip with yours as you looked shocked over the bets they placed.

Noritoshi always had a soft smile for you. He recently managed his time better, finishing his studies very early so he could spend more time with you.

Not shy to take your hand whenever you meet in the hallways and drag you for a picnic under the huge Plum Tree or just to hug you quickly before going off to a mission.

You were more open, hopping up to him in the hallways and greeting him cheerfully. ‘It was nice’, you thought to yourself.

Ever the overthinker, you at times think of the secrets he mentioned having. Probably personal matters he wasn’t ready to talk about. That’s fine, you had your own fair share as well. Time will heal and bring whatever it may to the both of you.

◇◇◇

The Kyoto-Tokyo sister school goodwill event was drawing near. You and your fellow first years wished all your participating seniors good luck.

“I heard they also have a Special Grade 1st year student in Tokyo Tech.” You perked up at that, “Is that so?”

“I highly doubt they’d come though. Just like how you aren’t participating, Tsuchi. Usually 2nd and 3rd years are the ones participating. It is going to be held here in Kyoto Tech since we won last year.” Todo grinned.

You wondered about that.

◇◇◇

Just a few days before the goodwill event, Utahime texted you and said Noritoshi was injured from a mission. So of course you flew as fast as you could to his room, where he was being treated.

"Noritoshi!!" You wheezed out, entering his room in a burst of wind. You had come back from a lunch date with an old classmate from elementary.

You hurried over to his bedside and looked him over. He slowly turned to you, eyes widening. He smiled, "An angel is here."

You flushed and laughed out loud, "Noritoshi you've lost it. It's just me. Y/n." You brushed some stray hairs out of his face.

He continued staring at you dreamily, “Angel”. You were all dressed up, face fully made up. Rouge lipstick with a light touch of blush on your cheeks. You had your round shades on, prettily framing your face.

He used a free and uninjured hand to reach and cup your cheek. You leaned into his touch before pushing his arm back down. "You need rest." You said gently.

You placed your hands over his chest and activated your reverse cursed technique. He groaned as he felt his skin stitch back together. "Shhh, it will be fine."

He wasn't that badly injured thank goodness. “Angel, have you seen my y/n? I miss her.” He whined. You patted him on the forehead and shushed him with a quick kiss.

Why was he behaving like this?? You turned to the nurse packing their things from the corner, “I put him on anesthesia. He will be loopy for a bit.”

“Ah.” This might be a little bit fun. “Toshiii~ It’s me y/n how could you not recognize me?” You pouted. Noritoshi pouted and whined in return. The nurse pointedly ignored both of you and quickly left the room.

He stared at you with the biggest eyes he’s ever made, seemingly thinking hard. “Don’t think too hard, you’ll lose brain cells.” you whispered.

“Hold me.” He demanded not unlike a child asking for candy. And so you sat beside him and held onto his hand. You watched as he fell asleep, clinging onto your hand.

This loose-tongued and childish side to Noritoshi was just too adorable.

◇◇◇

Noritoshi stirred awake, seeing you so close to him. You were laying on top of his chest, one hand holding onto his.

He stared at your profile half sprawled over his blanket and reached to put a hand on your back and rubbed it soothingly. Then let his hand rest on the back of your neck while tracing small circles on it with the pad of his thumb.

You were so sweet on him. It was a wonder to Noritoshi, who felt as though he was always lacking in physical affection. To see someone sincerely take care of him without requesting anything in return was refreshing for a change.

He watched as you stirred, then your hand tightened in his and you brought it close to your lips, all while you were still fast asleep. Noritoshi’s eyes twinkled. What were you dreaming about? Was it about him?

He watched as you slowly woke up. “Mmmm Toshiii~” you blearily reached out for him. You were able to wash up and change your clothes while he was asleep.

He pulled you into his bed, making your half sprawl over his lap. “Why didn’t you get in bed with me? Surely your back must hurt? It’s late now, sleep with me.” You looked at the clock and to your surprise it was indeed late. 2am.

“Okayy” you were still whiny, half asleep, and slightly grumpy from waking up. You both settled in the bed and fell asleep holding hands.

◇◇◇

It was finally the day of the Kyoto-Tokyo Goodwill event. You were all out, 1st, 2nd and 3rd years with Utahime sensei and Principal Gakuganji, waiting for the Tokyo group to arrive.

Then you felt this ominous presence from afar. You took a few steps back, cursed energy flaring and winds whipping around you. Everyone looked at you in concern and Noritoshi whispered as he squeezed your hand, "Angel, you okay?"

You still found it funny how he now takes to calling you his angel when it’s just the two of you after you told him about his embarrassing moment when he was loopy on sedatives.

You stared off at a distance. "Everyone... Something… big is coming." You didn't realize that you felt Rika's presence from afar. Everyone tensed and looked in the same direction you were as the Tokyo participants came.

There were some really loud 2nd and 3rd years, but the one that stood out was a rather reserved boy with black hair. He had a Katana bag hooked over one shoulder. And a massive curse looming over him. ‘How is that thing not exorcised yet?!’

"Yooooo Everyone from Kyoto hello!!"

That voice. Your eye twitched. "Nice to meet you all again." Gojo Satoru cheerily yelled. Introductions were exchanged. The group challenge on the first day is Capture the Flag. The details for the individual battles tomorrow are yet to be announced.

Everyone was surprised to hear that the first year, Okkotsu Yuuta, the special grade cursed human, was participating to even out the numbers.

Based on that amount of cursed energy…. Tokyo school might win this year, you thought grimly. 'As long as there are no casualties please.' You prayed to yourself. You wished Noritoshi good luck with a quick hug.

After the participants were dismissed and released to their positions, the Kyoto 1st year's followed the two principals and Utahime sensei.

"Neko-chaaaan! How cruel, you don't wanna greet me?" His damn voice was so fucking loud everyone in the vicinity turned to Satoru.

(His nickname for you was cute but the story wasn't. When you were 4 years old, the Tsuchi family cat always ran away from you. You tried to be more catlike to befriend it, which Satoru found hilarious. Ergo, he started calling you Cat or Neko chan.)

Your eye twitched again as always does with Satoru. "Toru nii, it's been a while." You said, looking at the man leering down at your figure. He pulled you in for a side hug and ruffled your hair. "I missed you loads, it's been a while huh. How's school?"

"Not too bad." You fixed and patted your hair back down, aware of the eyes on you.

"Mmm, I bet." His bright blue [six] eyes could see the red strings linking your pinky to Noritoshi's. "You got a boyfriend by any chance y/n?"

You stopped at that and looked up at him. "Did Hiroki tell you anything?" "Nup" he always pops his P's obnoxiously.

You looked to the side and murmured "I do."

"You have a boyf-ooms" You slapped your hand over his mouth, floating up to his height. You could practically see his blue eyes gleaming behind those white bandages. "Keep your voice down dimwit." You hissed.

He licked your hand. "You're gross as always Toru," you wiped it on his sleeve as you walked on air to match his height.

"You should have told me you got a boyfriend. Anywayss, my students are gonna kick ass. Yuuta is pretty strong and he's the type to go all out you know?" He nudged you.

"Noritoshi and the senpais won't go down without a fight." You said. “Heehhh, is that so?”

You caught up a bit with him, making small talk as you made your way to the viewing rooms.

◇◇◇

Miwa later pulled you aside, "You know Gojo Satoru?! Isn't he, like, super famous?!"

"Uhhh?? He is?? … uhm I don't know. But we are family friends, he's like a brother to me really." You said confusedly. "The Tsuchimikado and Gojo clans always got along. His dad and my dad are friends."

"Ahhh I see." She nodded. She was still unfamiliar with the Great 3 clans and minor clans of Jujutsushi so it was understandable for her to be curious.

The rest of you filed into the room. The teachers allowed all of you to watch on the screens, so that you can get familiar with the goodwill event.

"Psst! Y/n sit beside me." You laughed as Satoru eagerly patted the seat beside him, sounding more like a teenager than a teacher. You scooted over to his side as he brought out snacks, chips, and popcorn. You stared at him. "You think this is a movie?"

"It's free entertainment." He shrugged.

And the event started. You all watched on the screens as both schools fought against curses while defending their home base flag and trying to take down the enemy's flag.

Todo, of course, was on the front lines, recklessly plowing into Tokyo high's home base. Hakari, a 3rd year, was facing him off, somehow holding his ground against him.

Noritoshi was following Momo around, taking down curses and stopping the other team's students from charging in.

But before they knew it, Yuuta was on the other side, flag in his hands. It wasn't a quick match but a rather rough one. At the very least, no one was injured badly.

Your eyes watched Okkotsu’s movements. It was very obvious he was new to fighting, but his brute force of cursed energy played well to his strengths. You were looking forward to tomorrow's matches.

Blood Bound: Table of Contents

#kamo noritoshi x you #jjk kamo #blood bound #red strings of fate #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fanfic #kamo noritoshi x reader #noritoshi fluff #gojo satoru #miwa kasumi #todo aoi #jjk x y/n #noritoshi x y/n #noritoshi headcanons

80 notes · View notes

jojo-reader-hell · 3 years

Text

Time to show you all how we do it in the pinta cuh.

Gwess x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Uh, I guess just Gwess being Gwess. I don’t expect everyone to assume she’s not going to be abusive.

Also if I catch anyone complaining about the Spanglish it’s going down and I know for sure you’ve never kicked it with the 90’s cholas in your entire sheltered life.

...

“Oye, listen bollera.”

“Told you not to fuckin’ call me bollera cabrona.”

“Cállate tu boca. Escucha bollera. Esa machorras, they do shit differently in the pinta. I worry about your ass because you don’t got one mean bone in your body. Shit, you couldn’t even stand up to the guera who bullied you in eighth grade. But I’ll tell you how it is in there esa. Maybe you’ll have the advantage since you’re going in a bollera, not coming out one…”

“What’s bollera?”

She butchers the Spanish, and all you can do is fucking laugh at her poor attempts. Your girlfriend frowns from between your legs, but you tug at her hair to get her to shut up her whining.

Saturdays, she always bugs you in your free time from writing to spend time with her. What the hell is there for two girls to do in prison on a date anyways? You can play cards with her in the yard, have her spot you lifting weights, all that shit gets old. Instead the two of you stay in, she begs you to baby her and brush her hair, and you oblige. Treating it like your grandma did and telling her stories while she made sweet eyes at you.

“How come you always talk in Spanish whenever you tell me stories about us meeting and falling in love?” She asks, pouting her lips up at you.

“Because that’s how it happened esa.” You laugh, tugging on her hair again and making her squeal, “It’s rare that I even get to act like this, not easy being trapped in the middle of two cultures and not getting accepted by either or. But with my babe, I can do whatever the fuck I want.”

She pulls on your jailbird blues, wanting a kiss but you make her wait. It’s just how that shit goes. You still hold grudges from the time she made your first stint into prison some bullshit.

“As I was saying mensa, as every corresponding event would prove in the future, it seemed Little Mosca was, for lack of a better term, entirely full of shit.”

To a point though, as you would later find out. But when it came to it, she didn’t know you or your life.

Never the less you’d have never thought your time in the “pinta” was going to be as smooth sailing as it was. You expected to get into fights, possibly be violated, become “somebody’s bitch” as they so eloquently put it in every fucking prison movie you could get your little pizza hands on. That’s what they told you in your friend groups too. Stop doing loca shit with the girls and go back to school, school girl. You should be at home studying fool. You like to talk about stupid shit like rocks and fucking video games all fucking day. You’re still a kid.

It pisses you off and only serves to give you a Napoleon complex.

Maybe if you had listened, it wouldn’t have gotten you into a case of wrongful arrest that not even the best pro bono lawyer could get you out of. You expected to have no one to turn to in El Acuario. Especially when you didn’t seem to fit in any of the stereotypical niches that came from being an outsider in some bad ass peckerwood lands.

Last name is impossibly hard for the white kids to say? Three strikes you’re out and a beaner. Try to bond with the other people of color? Let’s face it, even if you’re on the same short end of the stick there’s no spot in that long history of oppression for you homes. Speak Spanglish even though you don’t know all that much Spanish because your parents took “English Only” as law? Now every homegirl at El Super is taking the piss out of you.

But say you get grudgingly accepted by the locas, but they’re the kind of girls that sport hoop earrings, lipliner no lipstick, and a neck covered in hickeys? Well, you had the last part, but when the hickeys were from another girl it tends to cause a ruckus in the barrio.

You didn’t expect to be led to your cell and recognize nearly every girl already locked up in there.

“A la verga! Es La Bollera guey!”

“Sad Girl?!” you exclaimed at the voice, only to be jostled into silence.

“Shut the fuck up!” Screams the guard who is leading you.

“Orale bollera! The fuck are you doing in here homegirl?!”

“Let her go homes, she ain’t do shit!”

“Ay loca! The fuck did you do to get in here foo? Get caught eating panocha again?!”

“She ain’t do shit pinche culero! Let her go!”

But somehow against every barrier, life worked in its own way. You went to school, tried to keep it straight to fit in, let your energy help you to fit in seamlessly no matter where you went. But the homegirls always warned you to stay out of shit. Even though they all loved you anyway, bollera y todo, they always claimed you barely survived outside when it came to your sweet nature, how the hell were you going to last a day in the pinta?

The way they seem to want your freedom, it seems like you’re going to incite a riot among the chicanas.

You’re almost embarrassed. Every mom friend on the block seems to be doing time the same way as you, but the camaraderie doesn’t last too long.

So far the worst part of Green Dolphin was being arrested. Slammed on the hot hood of a police cruiser and cuffed, thrown around like you were a rag doll. Granted it wasn’t any fun having la juda sticking their fingers into where you didn’t want anyone except your future partner to, but that and the mugshot, it came with the territory. Eventually your homegirls do have to quiet down, not before reassuring you that they got your “esquina”. Well, now that you’re trapped in a six by eight cell with some goo goo eyed chick that acts like she’s la reina of the whole fucking place, it doesn’t seem like that’s going to be an option anymore.

Even better… she’s not even Hispanic or Latina. Her skin is pasty white and clashes with her blue koolaid dyed lips.

No matter. You know how to deal with the white girls too. That’s the beauty of being able to chameleon your way into any situation.

“Uh… hey.” You say awkwardly. “Nice to meet you.”

She doesn’t say a word. Weird. You have to scoot by her to take your place on the bottom bunk, about four seconds from opening your mouth to ask the dreaded ice breaker “what are you in for”, when she suddenly yanks you by the coveralls.

Oh… Oh hell no.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?! Thats my bunk-…”

Earrings off. Let’s go fool. It goes down like Diddy Kong, or more like Donkey when that’s just the type of punch she gets seemingly out of nowhere. You don’t have to turn around to know. She was fucked the minute she tried to get you.

It’s a matter of seconds, after you’ve floored her to the enamel first and pretty much sat on her chest, your hands and an unseen force have her pinned below you with your hands around her skinny guerra neck. The homegirls must have thought the screams were coming from you, because immediately you hear the banging of iron bars as your homegirls are coming to back you up.

“Oh shit! Bollera! Que esta pasando guey?!”

“Get the fuck off her white bitch!”

Their spring into action is stopped dead in its tracks when they see you’re strangling the girl on the floor. It takes them a minute to really comprehend the predicament you’ve got the girl in. When they only knew you from hang outs at Burger King or some dude’s house, they don’t truly know the reason that you waltzed in among them. Unafraid. Unyielding. They only know you that you’re a real loca to be walking around with girls who claim to be so.

They’re dead silent. Don’t even say shit when the girl’s turning blue. Not a word of encouragement or a “ja guey” to keep you going. But it’s fine.

You knock her back and forth into the enamel. She keeps trying to kick you off but her arms are pinned. You’re too far up on her chest, almost sitting on her breasts, smothering her down and punctuating every sentence with a jolt of her head against the flooring as you press down on her windpipe.

“Andale puta, you wanna play that way, I’ll play too.”

She’s blue. Turning the same shade as her lipstick. But you let her stay conscious enough to squeak out an answer.

“Here’s a few rules home girl, keep your fucking hands off me and leave me the fuck alone. I don’t give a shit about you, I didn’t get thrown in the pinta to get fucked up by some gabacha. But you wanna play that shit with me? Al rato bitch!”

“Sueltalo Bollera!”

“You feel me bitch?” You growl.

“Sueltalo homegirl! She ain’t worth it!”

“Let her go!”

“You feel me?!” You insist.

A squeak. That’s all you get from her. A small squeak of affirmation and you let her neck go, continuing to to make your bed as she flounders on the floor, totally ignorant of your homegirl’s gawking but feeling proud of yourself none the less.

It’s no fanfare when you meet up with everyone else later on. They tell you to watch your shit and to leave your cellmate at that. If word gets out, you might have a couple more fights at this rate.

But it doesn’t matter. Smooth sailing from now on since you stood up to her before she could get a hit in.

“You hit me though!”

“Technically that was my Stand that hit you.”

Those same blue koolaid lips pout at you again, and this time you lean down to give her a kiss right on her mouth. She squeals, its that same familiar sound she made when you had her pinned to the floor all those months ago.

“Yeah and you tried to knock my ass out too, but the thing I wasn’t prepared for was to meet someone who liked it like that.” You laugh.

Gwess just huffs, making grabby hands at your coveralls and begging you for more affection.

That’s how it goes in the pinta though. At least Little Mosca was right about that part.

#jojo’s bizzare adventure #jojo’s bizarre adventure stone ocean #DO YOU ALL EVEN FUCKING KNOW ABOUT THE SHIT I WENT THRU TO FIND THIS DOCUMENT #TWO FUCKING HOURS #FUCK #gwess x reader #guess x reader #jjba stone ocean #wlw #implied abuse #abuse #tw violence #hispanic!reader

27 notes · View notes

teacupfulofstarshine · 4 years

Text

but i make these high heels work

summary: roman has something new that he wants to try out, but he’s nervous about his family’s reactions. he needn’t be; they’ve always got his back.

(OR: a birthday fic for roman sanders, set in my moxiety dad au)

a/n: i’m jumping on @notveryglittery‘s “giving the gay everything he wants” agenda. happy birthday roman sanders!!!

cw: anxiety, mild angst, fear of homophobia

wordcount: ~1.8k

read it on ao3!!

Roman carefully smooths his hands over the fabric spread out across his bed. He knows that no one else is awake yet. Not even Logan, who routinely wakes up early because apparently he can run on crumbs of sleep and nothing else. Not even Dad, the earliest riser out of all of them, since he doesn’t have any pressing appointments. No one is awake but Roman.

He’d tossed and turned all night, barely snatching a few hours. He knows he’s going to regret that later, but he also knows that there’s nothing particularly important happening today, so Papa and Dad will be more lenient if he decides to nap. So, rather than waiting until later to roll out of bed, Roman gets up a good hour before anyone else. He makes his bed - properly, this time, pulling off the excess of blankets and pillows and stuffed animals and tucking his thick quilt in. He never has the time or the willpower to make it in the mornings, but today.

Well.

Today, he has anticipation thrumming in his chest like caught lightning, and he needs something to do with his hands.

Roman showers, quietly. The bathroom is between his room and Logan’s, and there’s always the off chance that the water running will wake up his lightweight-sleeper brother. He holds his breath, keeping in all the melodies that usually bubble from his mouth in the shower, and is rewarded with no signs of wakefulness from his brother.

He doesn’t bother to wash his hair, so he doesn’t have to worry about blow-drying his fluffy curls. Instead, he spritzes them with dry shampoo he stole from his Papa and combs through them with his fingers. It takes him about fifteen minutes to get them to just the right state of artfully tousled, but it still doesn’t waste nearly enough time.

Which brings him to here, sitting cross-legged on his perfectly-made bed, staring at the fabric spread across his quilt. It’s plain, compared to what he usually wears, but he supposes that’s the trouble with borrowed clothing. Adding to all that, it’s not real clothing; it’s an old prop he’d salvaged from a box of costumes destined to be torn apart and repurposed. He kind of wishes he had the courage to ask Dad or Papa to take him to the mall to buy a proper one, but he’s never been that kind of brave.

Roman fiddles with the hem of the skirt between his fingers.

It’s red, at the very least, but not the proper shade of red. It’s garish and bright, like a firetruck, like a cartoon bloodstain. It comes down to about Roman’s knees, hanging in loose folds, and it’s not the most comfortable thing he’s ever worn, but he loves it. He loves the way the fabric feels when it swishes around his knees, he loves the way it flares out when he spins in circles, he loves the way it feels to smooth the fabric beneath him in a single fluid motion when he sits down.

He’s terrified to wear it out of the comfort of his bedroom, but he figures that today, June first, the first day of pride month, is as good a day as any to come out of the closet. Roman sighs, curling his hands into loose fists on his thighs.

His phone pings with a notification, and Roman almost falls off his bed as he scrambles forward to snatch his cell phone off his desk. He takes a moment to smile at his home screen photo before answering the message: it’s a picture of himself and Janus from last year’s pride festival. They’re wrapped in a rainbow flag like a cape, leaning their heads together and laughing. Janus has a genderqueer flag painted across his cheek, and Roman has rainbow star stickers across his nose and a rainbow bandanna tying back his hair.

Roman thumbprints his phone open and checks his messages. It’s from Janus himself.

[7:41 am] snoyfriend (snake boyfriend): you’re going to do wonderfully, dearest. your family loves you, and they’ll support you no matter what. and even if they don’t, i support you no matter what. i love you <3

Roman wiggles his feet back and forth eagerly in a gleeful stim as he taps out a response.

[7:43 am] me: thank you, snove (snake love). ily2 <3

[7:44 am] snoyfriend (snake boyfriend): are you ever going to stop calling me snake-themed nicknames, beloved?

[7:44 am] me: sno (snake no)

[7:46 am] snoyfriend (snake boyfriend): i hate you <3

[7:47 am] me: i snove (snake love) you too <3 <3

*~*~*~*~*

Someone knocks on his door around 8:45. “Ro? Are you coming down to breakfast? I’m making pridecakes!” Dad calls. Roman’s stomach growls at the thought; every year, Dad makes multiple colors of homemade pancake batter and draws pride-flag pancakes on the griddle.

“I’ll be down in a minute!” Roman says.

“Okay, kiddo!”

Roman takes a deep breath. He slides off his bed and shimmies out of his pajama pants. Rummaging around in his drawers, he pulls out a white t-shirt with a swooping golden outline of the Disney castle on the front. Carefully, he steps into the puddle of skirt and tugs the red fabric up over his hips. It’s not a perfect fit, but it comes down to his knees. Roman studies himself in the full-length mirror on the inside of his closet.

“It’s going to be okay,” he sighs, reaching for the rainbow bandana on his desk. He folds it and ties it to form a headband which he uses to push his bangs off his forehead. “It’s going to be okay. Dad and Papa aren’t going to hate you. Thomas and Logan aren’t going to hate you. It’s going to be okay.”

Roman waits until he hears Logan and Thomas go downstairs before he leaves. He picks up his phone, glances at the photo of himself and Janus one more time, and then steps into the hallway.

He lurks on the stairs for a moment, glancing into the kitchen. Logan is sleepily gnawing on a bagel slathered with jam. Papa is pouring coffee into a row of mugs while Thomas helps Dad with the pridecakes. Roman grips his skirt tightly in his hands, watching his family, and then he steps into the kitchen.

“Morning.”

“Good morn - oh!” Dad whirls around, holding a spatula which he quickly foists off onto Thomas. He hurries forward, taking Roman’s shoulders, eyes scanning up and down his outfit. “That’s new! Where’d you get it?”

“It’s an old costume skirt,” Roman says. “Is that - am I - do you -”

Dad smiles, eyes crinkling up as he leans in to kiss Roman’s forehead. “I think you look wonderful, Roman. No matter what you choose to wear.” Roman smiles, hugging his dad tightly. He feels Dad reach up and press a hand into the back of his hair, rocking them back and forth a little as they hug.

When Dad pulls away, Roman’s eyes jump up to Thomas. He grins, flashing a thumbs up, and Roman shakily offers one back. “Nice skirt,” Papa says, wrapping an arm around Roman’s shoulders and pulling him in. Roman feels Papa press a kiss to the top of his head, and he fights to keep himself from crying.

Roman turns, looking at the only family member who hasn’t said anything yet. Logan is still placidly chewing his bagel, watching Roman with his typical calmness. “Logan?” Roman hates the way his voice shakes a little. “Do you like it?”

Logan swallows and sets his bagel down. He scans over Roman’s outfit with a strange critical expression and says, “No. It looks completely wrong on you.”

Roman’s heart sinks to the bottom of his chest. Logan stands up, scanning over Roman repeatedly, frowning as he stares at the skirt. “Logan,” Dad says warningly.

Logan keeps talking. “That is the wrong color for your skin tone. It does not compliment the tan you always achieve in the summer months. The shape is unflattering on your body type, and the material is -” Logan reaches out and rubs the material between two fingers, shuddering. “- is entirely unpleasant. This skirt is completely wrong for you.”

Roman recognizes the glint in his brother’s eye as he examines the skirt with a critical eye. It’s the way he looks at pieces of clothing that the theater department asks him to help tailor. “You would look much nicer in a circle or handkerchief style skirt. That red is hideous, you need a darker shade. I think that dark green would also look nice on you.”

“You . . . aren’t mad about me wearing a skirt?”

Logan blinks at him. “To quote that Avatar show you like so much, ‘Pants are an illusion and so is death.’ Gender is a social construct and clothing should not be dependent on the genitalia you were born with. I do not care if you wish to wear a skirt or not, Roman. Why would I care?”

“I was nervous about wearing a skirt because I thought you would judge me.” Logan takes a few steps closer, offering a small smile, and Roman feels his heart start to swell and rise like a balloon.

“I was not judging you for wearing a skirt, Roman. If you would prefer to wear a skirt, I will support you, always. I did not mean to imply otherwise. I merely meant to offer my assistance because that skirt looks uncomfortable.”

“It really is,” Roman sighs. “I stole it from a box of outgoing props.”

“Go put comfortable clothes on,” Logan tells him. “I am going to the fabric store with Dad later today. I will take your measurements and you can come with us to find a fabric you like. I will make you a skirt that actually fits you.”

“You’d do that for me?!”

“Skirts are relatively simple garments to sew, provided you get the measurements correct. I cannot promise that it will be perfect, but I will work to make sure that it is comfortable and flattering on your form.” Roman bounces eagerly. “Can I hug you?”

Logan tilts his head, considering. “Ten seconds,” he decides, which is more than enough time. Roman pulls his brother into a hug, feeling Logan’s hand flap back and forth against his bag as he happily stims.

“I love you, Logan,” Roman says, squeezing him tightly. Logan hums at the pressure, pushing closer to his brother before leaning backwards to signal that he’s done being hugged. Roman lets him go, settling down at the table. He can change after breakfast.

(Two weeks later, Roman comes downstairs in a dark red circle skirt embroidered with golden stars and detailing. Logan hums, flapping and rocking happily when he sees Roman twirl around and show off the way the skirt flares around his thighs.

“It’s perfect, it’s perfect, I love it so much!” Roman squeals. “Thank you, Logan!”

Logan flaps even more in response.)

#starshinewrites #little and broken but still good #happy birthday roman sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #janus sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #platonic tlamp #brotherly logince #romantic roceit

156 notes · View notes

outlaw-unicorn · 4 years

Text

How does Arthur Morgan's Dead Eye work?

Overanalyzing game mechanics and other fun activities

feat. just enough science to sound like I know what I’m talking about.

So what do we know about Arthur's Dead Eye?

time slows down

objects of interest sparkle

wind direction visible

enemies weak spots appear red

can be activated at will

cannot be used endlessly without recharging

Something like this is clearly just a game mechanic but maybe, just maybe, we can have some real world equivalents. Let's look at our first clue – Time slowing down

Now obviously, unless Arthur is a god messing about, time does not actually slow down. It just seems to. There are studies (x) analyzing exactly this phenomenon, most interestingly the experiences include:

The feeling of external time expanding and slowing down to a great extent.

Dominant mental quickness as demonstrated by the increased speed of thoughts.

There is often an altered sense of the duration of the event lasting longer than it actually does.

If possible, in the event in question, people often act fast and purposefully.

In the latter case, their attention is also altered and narrowly focused on the issues relevant for survival.

Unusually sharp vision or hearing.

And hoo boy, if that doesn't sound familiar.

A little harder to explain – though not impossible – is the visual representation of spots of interest.

Because why would you see red where there isn't any? The answer is – everyone does, you're doing it right now. (Well maybe not red per se but colors). Fun fact you cannot see colors at the edge of your field of vision because all the cones (the cells in your eye responsible for color vision) are located in the center of your retina. So what you're actually seeing is more like

Well that can't be right, I hear you say, I surely would have noticed. Except nope, because your brain is a sneaky bastard that loves to color in the the things you see. If you know a thing's color (maybe because you have seen it coming into the room) your brain will fill in the missing information for the whole picture. This can easily be proven in an experiment. You need at least two objects of the same shape with different colors and ideally another person. You need to fixate a point in front of you and then have the other person slowly move one of the objects into your field of vision from behind. Try guessing its color as soon as it appears in your field of vision – you will probably be wrong (unless you only have two objects bc fifty-fifty). Note: This doesn't work if you know which one you're going to see bc sneaky bastard brain.

Which proves – your brain already adds things your senses cannot perceive and paints it as This is what you're seeing, completely unmodified whatsoever, yessir. So it might as well add red for the area you KNOW to be a weak spot because we value usefulness over accuracy when it comes to perception. Great example:

The gray bar in the middle is only one shade of gray, yet it seems to be lighter on one side and darker on the other. There's something called lateral inhibition which your eye uses to enhance the contrasts to make those stand out more. And let's be honest – it's more important you see the tiger about to bite your head of than that you are able to tell the exact color of its stripes.

Evolutionary a dead eye would definitely be a huge advantage, being able to react in a split second and having an easier time finding whatever you're searching for. Does that mean everyone in the Red Dead world can do it? Probably not. Because there is one catch – heightened senses come at a cost. Do you know why tigers are so perfectly hidden with their bright orange stripes? Because their prey can't see red, they only have color-receptive cones for blue and green (unlike humans who have green, blue and red). The extra color-cone is so frigging expensive and also useless in low-light situations that they rather invested their energy into other senses. fyi the mantis shrimp has sixteen (16) color-receptive cones. (x)

Now Arthur doesn't have extra cones but we do have proof of the cost of using dead eye.

Empty your Dead Eye core and our boy is tired. His health is fine, so is his stamina but yet he looks somewhere between falling asleep where he stands and killer headache of doom. And you know what? If my brain did the equivalent of bench-pressing a semi I'd be tired, too. Which explains why the game constantly declares Arthur underweight despite just eating three deer and a rabbit. A normal person's brain uses 20 % of their energy – who knows how much energy a brain regularly going into dead eye overdrive needs. Boy was always skinny growing up because there wasn't enough food in the world to keep him fed with that kind of energy-drain.

This also fits nicely with a fan-theory I read somewhere about Arthur having a sweet tooth. Because besides being a sneaky bastard your brain is also a picky eater. The brain gets its energy from sugar alone – glucose to be exact – and it doesn't want anything else. Okay, if you were starving it can also use ketone bodies but that's it. So the next time you do some intense studying and afterwards really want some chocolate – that's your brain complaining about being low on sugar. (I mean technically you usually have enough sugar stored in your liver but who wants that when you can have chocolate).

So in conclusion rdr might be a lot more realistic than we ever thought.

FYI I also looked into other explanations, namely synesthesia and maybe something similar to light / dark adaptation. But neither really fits. It's probably not synesthesia (the perceptual phenomenon in which stimulation of one sensory or cognitive pathway leads to involuntary experiences in a second sensory or cognitive pathway. For example letters or numbers are perceived as inherently colored.) (x) because unfortunately according to my degree in Wikipedia science synesthesia is involuntary and automatic and as far as I can tell can't be turned off. Which means it would happen all the time not just when you press a button. Also, while it can occur between pretty much any senses it would raise the question why enemies weak spots are consistently colored red even though the wolves trying to eat you for dinner look nothing like O'Driscoll #23.

And light or dark adaption (something your eye does to get used to light conditions) simply takes too long. (9 – 10 minutes for light, up to hours for dark adaptation). So nothing like the instantaneous changes we have.

#meta #dead eye #Arthur Morgan #my stuff #if this is what I do with my free time I should probably reconsider my life choices

128 notes · View notes

beholdme · 3 years

Text

All the Many Shades of Gerry - Chapter 5

Chapters: 5/19

Fandom: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Gerard Keay/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist

Characters: Martin Blackwood, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Gerard Keay, Tim Stoker (The Magnus Archives), Sasha James, Gertrude Robinson, Elias Bouchard

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Library AU, Librarian Jon, Artist Gerry, Trans Male Character, Trans Martin Blackwood, Canon Asexual Character, Asexual Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Ace Subtype - Sex Positive, Polyamory, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Romantic Fluff, Falling In Love, Boys in Skirts, Kissing, Demisexual Gerard Keay, Minor Character Death, Past Character Death, Canon-Typical Child Neglect, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Flirting, Minor Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist/Tim Stoker, Adventures in Hair Dying, Happy Ending, Banter, Gerry has a lot of sass, Gerard Keay is Morticia Adams, Jon is a very grumpy Librarian, Martin adores them anyway.

Summary: In which Gerry is a kaleidoscope and Jon and Martin can't help falling in love with him.

He happens to love them back.

Find it on Ao3

[1] [2] [3] [4]

Gerry has always thought it was very appropriate that his first kiss (with Jon, and overall) happened in the forgotten stacks of a local library. The scents of books and ink had surrounded them, something he still associates with Jon and youthful adoration to this day.

He was seventeen and desperately trying to pass his A-levels in the crumbling ruins of his fucked up life. Jon was nineteen and ready to have a breakdown and drop out of second-year uni. Their messes had conveniently lined up enough to give them space to fall in love. It was a messy, chaotic type of relationship, but that was who they were and it suited them just fine.

They somehow ended up as unlikely study partners after trying to check out the same book for their respective English classes, and then, almost without even noticing, they were inseparable.

Gerry was drawn to Jon because he was steady but in a frenetic, rebellious kind of way. His eyebrow piercing and painted nails also helped.

Jon was enamored with Gerry because he flirted and held his hand and accepted him for exactly what he was and nothing else mattered.

One night, after admittedly too little sleep and too much caffeine, Jon decided he wanted to try something new. It was impulsive. He should have asked first, but instead, he moved without thinking, and somehow Gerry was pushed back against a bookshelf, their lips pressed together in a rather forceful way.

Gerry laughed at him.

"Not exactly the reaction I was hoping for," Jon pouted, drawing away, but not so far that Gerry wasn't able to draw him back with his hands on Jon's hips. Jon's hands, previously bracketing Gerry's face, slipped up to tangle in Gerry's soft, badly dyed black hair.

Fortunately for Gerry, Jon was exactly the right height for Gerry to draw him close and press a kiss to his temple. "You just surprised me, is all. I wasn't expecting you to do that. Like, maybe ever?" He laughed softly, again, an incredulous well of hot affection opening in his chest.

"I was curious," he replied, shrugging. His face burned, with both embarrassment and sappy pleasure. "I thought maybe it would be nice."

"Oooooh." Gerry grinned wickedly, "We'll have to keep trying, then. You know, for investigative purposes. We can't leave a hypothesis improperly explored."

Jon silenced his nonsense by drawing their lips back together, and Gerry happily obliged him. At that moment, Gerry decided to make every kiss better than the one before, so Jon would always feel the need to come back for more.

It turned out they enjoyed kissing one another very, very much. Gerry still appreciated everything Jon offered him and never pressured him for anything more, or extra, or too much. Jon was still steady but wild. Gerry always seemed to end up shirtless. Young infatuation was a beautiful thing, both to behold and to endure.

*******

By the time Jon meets Martin, he's kissed a few more people.

Georgie, for two dizzy years in grad school. Tim, on one memorable and drunken misadventure. A few others sprinkled here and there.

But he couldn't remember ever feeling that same reckless drive to push himself into someone else's space and live in their gravity, the way it had been during those breathless months with Gerry.

As soon as he lets his unfounded anger for Martin's mere presence in his orbit fade, Jon feels himself drawn to Martin's magnetism. His kindness, his gentleness, his constant awareness of Jon's mood and wellbeing.

The way he brings him tea even though he would have insisted he didn't like it and didn't want it. Martin did it anyway because Jon could let it cool or drink it, but the gesture behind it stood all the same.

Jon doesn't imagine that Martin could ever forgive his months of snide remarks and cold disregard, but he does, and Martin somehow manages to like him anyway. Because that's just who Martin is, always finding something to love in even the most desolate places.

"Let me get you a taxi." Martin presses after a dinner date.

"Let me get you a taxi." Jon presses back.

"I live one block away!" Martin laughs and can't resist pulling Jon towards him by the elbows. Jon grabs his lapels with sloppy confidence born of laughter and wine.

The air is full of gentle moisture, not quite raining, just blanketing the world enough that they feel locked away in their own world for the moment. Nevermind that they live in one of the most populous cities in the world. At that moment there is nothing but Jon and Martin and the warmth between them, forging an intoxicating attachment to rattle the stars.

"I want to kiss you," Martin whispers the confession into the space between them, pressing their foreheads together and breathing Jon's air.

"I really wish you would," Jon offers him in return.

Their lips press together gently, deliberately. Martin is taller than Jon by enough that he gets the supreme satisfaction of dragging him slightly up towards him, crowding into his normally sacred personal space.

For a moment, they feel airborne, standing in their huddle of space and time. Their lips move together, dragging and drugging them.

Martin gasps softly as they pull apart to breathe, all their emotion pouring out into the space between them.

"Come home with me," Martin pleads softly. "Just- for time together. I don't want this to end."

"Yes," Jon whispers back, "I think I would like that very much."

It is only one block away, and they walk hand in hand, pausing occasionally to press soft lips together again and again.

*******

Gerry tries to keep a balance of spending time with both Martin and Jon and seeing them separately. He also makes sure to give them space to be together on their own, and never inserts himself between them.

Even after several months, he feels like a guest in their relationship, and for the time being, he doesn't mind existing in that space. He finally knows he wants to keep them both, and he is willing to wait for the natural progression of their relationship to carry them along.

He is still willing to do his part in it, of course.

Gerry likes to go into the bookstore, get flirted with by Tim, flirt with Martin in return. Drink tea or coffee and read books on the comfortable couch in the corner, all the while watching Martin brew drinks and care for his customers.

Martin works 5 or 6 days most weeks, often helping man the counter himself, between the admin of running the place and herding Tim and various baristas. So Gerry is quite taken aback when he goes in early one Monday afternoon to find Martin nowhere in sight.

After a quick check with Jon to make sure it's not a normal absence, Gerry makes his way the short walk to Martin's flat.

At first, there's no answer to his knock. He knocks again. He texts Martin's cell. He calls it too. A pit settles into his stomach, although he knows it's far too early to panic.

He knocks one more time and even calls out for Martin through the door, before going quiet to listen.

After a few nerve-wracking moments, Martin does actually open the door a crack, peering out at Gerry with red, tear-stained eyes.

"Martin? Are you okay, love?" Gerry tries to push forward, but the door doesn't open any further. "I brought you tea. From the shop, even, so it's definitely good."

"Why?" Martin asks in such a bleak voice that Gerry is taken aback.

"I-" He starts, mouth gaping at Martin's completely alien manner. "I thought you might like it. That it would bring you some comfort if you were sick or something."

"Or something," Martin says, the total blank sadness in his voice filling Gerry with biting concern.

"Please let me in." He presses his hand more firmly into the door, and Martin eventually yields, although Gerry knows from unfortunate personal experience that it's more from lack of caring than anything.

"Make yourself at home, I guess." Martin offers the space ahead of him as he moves further into his flat. He collapses on the couch, curling into a fetal position on the cushions.

Gerry's heart burns, both with sympathy and empathy. He has an idea of what might be causing such a bad relapse of Martin's depression, although the topic of mothers is always carefully danced around between the three of them. He puts the tea down in grabbing distance and he goes to Martin's wardrobe to fetch his favorite fluffy blanket.

"You don't have to tell me what's wrong. But I want to be here for you." Gerry tells him firmly as he wraps Martin up in it. "Is there anything specific I can do for you or do you want me to suggest some stuff?"

Martin blinks up at him. "I don't know…"

"I can put the TV on and sit nearby. I know I don't have Jon's voice, but I could read to you. Put on a podcast?" Gerry throws out the suggestions, keeping his tone gentle and neutral. He doesn't want Martin to sense that this is difficult for him in any way. He can process his own emotions later.

"Anything." Martin shifts over onto his side as silent tears resume a steady trail down his face. Gerry walks over to the bookcase and selects a book he has seen Martin reading a dozen times, the spine well broken and the pages yellowing.

He sits on the floor in front of Martin, near enough for him to hopefully be able to absorb some of the goth's errant body heat. He starts reading, keeping his cadence slow and steady, hoping to provide comfort and grounding.

He reads for almost an hour, and he thinks Martin actually sleeps through most of it. He drinks the tea, although it's already cold.

Eventually, he slows to a stop and closes the book, but doesn't move, hoping Martin will stay sleeping.

"I'm sorry." Gerry is startled by Martin's croaky voice and turns to look at him.

"You have nothing to apologize for."

"I do," Martin starts, rubbing at his checks and sitting up against the armrest. "I'm a disaster and you had to come all this way and waste all this time just because I can't get my shit together."

Gerry's eyes narrow at this nonsense, but his tone remains gentle. "None of the time I spend with you is ever wasted. I care about you and I want to be here for you. I wish you had called me or Jon so that we could have come sooner."

Martin's face falls at the mention of their mutual boyfriend's name. "Of course. You came for Jon. It would have been pretty bad if he had seen this mess."

"That is not what I said, and it's not what I meant." Gerry's voice rises, from hurt at Martin's words, at the way his mental state twists Gerry's heart in his chest. He pulls himself up onto his knees, putting himself firmly in Martin's personal space and leaning in close so Martin can't avoid his eyes or his words. "Martin, allow me to make myself completely clear. Because I won't allow you for one second longer to believe that you are some kind of consolation prize for me, that I tolerate your presence because I feel like you and Jon are a package deal. That anything I do to show you affection or effort is for Jon's benefit. You are a gift to me. The way I feel for you is completely independent of my feelings for Jon. I love us all together, but you. You fill me with hope and laughter and the warmth of a perfectly brewed cup of tea. I want you just as much as I want Jon, and my heart will never be the same if you were to walk away from me. Please don't push me away because you think I only feel this way about Jon. Because that is the furthest thing from my truth."

His declaration sits heavy in the air between them for a moment, almost shimmering where Gerry can practically see it hanging in the air.

"But, I-"

"No, no buts. I'll accept 'thank you, Gerry, you light up my life too, Gerry.' No arguments. No buts. This is a space where we can accept that people love us."

"Thank you, Gerry," Martin says slowly, pulling Gerry closer to hold the sides of their faces together. Gerry wraps his arms around Martin and rocks them gently. "You fill life with colour, my Gerry."

"Much better, love. I'd really like to kiss you now, if you-" Gerry breaks off as Martin pulls him closer and slots their lips together. The kiss is full of desperate desire to bring Martin closer to Gerry and further from his forsaken loneliness.

Gerry slides himself up off the floor, not breaking contact, and sits astride Martin's lap. Martin sneaks his hands up the back of his shirt, hands confident and familiar from months of tactile flirting and easy affection.

Gerry anchors himself to Martin, and Martin anchors himself to Gerry, and at that moment they feel the nexus of their relationship, both with each other and with Jon, lock firmly into place.

#the magnus archives #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #gerry keay #jongerrymartin #gerard keay #also on ao3

5 notes · View notes

evien-stark · 4 years

Text

✧I Need You✧ Chapter 194

It was the Monday before Christmas. And three days before the big holiday party that seemed to be looming all the more. While everyone important had already RSVP'd and there was no need to worry about who would be coming when, you hadn’t had much time to actually plan for it. Buried beneath a mountain of worries that no matter how many times Tony told you to ease off of, you couldn’t help yourself. Maybe when the day came that you actually could you should start being concerned.

But that didn’t help now. It was a little late to ask Pepper or Happy to start helping out- even though you knew they would without question. That was exactly why you couldn’t abuse their sense of responsibility. Nor their sense of friendship. They’d do it because it was you asking. So you shouldn’t ask.

Going through the motions like this was a little strange. You’d never had trouble before just… making phone calls. Doing what should have been ordinary tasks. Yet now it felt like you were trudging up a hill to do even the smallest of things. Open an email. Check the news. Do anything that mattered. But you just… couldn’t. Couldn’t seem to work up the will or the strength.

This in turn made you feel worse. Your lack of effort was abysmal and things were going to start suffering because of it. But worrying about that only put you ten steps even further back. This was turning into a mess. You had a party to plan in less than three days now, and you had to do it right before the holidays. Everyone would already be booked up. Not that they wouldn’t move all their things around to cater a Stark Industries event. But…

But…

Pepper was only just barely able to garner your attention. “Not that I’m micromanaging you or anything but… I’ve noticed a stellar lack of food and bar disasters. My phone’s been eerily silent.”

Every big party always ran under the assumption that if something could go wrong, it most definitely would. And always did. This close to the party- Pepper was right. Her phone should have been blowing up. She should have been delegating things left and right for clean up. It was hard to even bring yourself to admit defeat here. “I… haven’t started.”

Her brows went right up, surprise taking hold of her before a more optimistic understanding cloaked her. “I know you have a lot more to worry about than parties.”

Bringing your hands up, you rubbed absently at your forehead. “I shouldn’t.”

With a tip of her head and a cross of her arms she studied you for a moment. “Superhero duties aside, you still are running a business.”

Am I? The thought nearly popped out of you. Only just barely stopping it. Your mouth was open to say something. Something that was of more detriment to you than her. Instead you just sighed with a shake of your head. “I just fell behind, I guess.”

“Do you need help?”

This question struck you at an odd angle. If you were any weaker you might have just started crying. You almost felt it on the horizon. Your eyes avoided hers. “I didn’t want to bother you.”

“Really?” Now she was smiling. Teasing, just a little. “You’ve never had a problem with it before.”

Your own smile by comparison was gray and fake. “Well. In that case… think you can throw together something in the next three days?”

The roll of her eyes was of a somewhat loving sort. “Only for you.”

“Thank you.”

She left without another word, closing the door behind her. Left you there. Sitting. Stewing about things you had no control over yet. Things you promised Tony you’d try and stop worrying about. But you couldn’t. Anxious immobility had you for a little while longer. But when you found the connection between your brain and your limbs again…

You found yourself picking up your cell phone. Making a very important call. It rang twice, but when he finally picked up, “Ms. INY.” His usual soft voice was a balm.

“Hi, JARVIS.”

“A delight as always. To what do I owe the pleasure this time?” There was no easy way of asking this. In fact, thinking it made you feel a little foolish. So much so that when too much time had passed, “...Ms. INY?” “Would you-” The words startled out of you. But you stopped, still not sure how to ask. He waited this time, finally getting the gist, perhaps, of what was going on. “...I know you’re coming down for the holiday party with the rest of them but I… I’d like to spend some time with you. Before then. If that’s okay with you.”

He didn’t have to think much about it. “Okay is perhaps an understatement.” But this still wasn’t a real yes.

And your heart wanted to ask. So you did. “JARVIS will you come home?”

The sound of a light little amused breath escaped him. “Home…”

Something inside of you twisted uncomfortable. “I know that’s not a fair thing to ask- or even say- I know- I know you’re settled in over there, but-”

“Please don’t mistake my reaction. I think I was merely… reminiscing.”

Your smile was weak, but a shade truer than the one you’d worn in front of Pepper. “Would you mind reminiscing over here?”

There was a more certain chuckle this time. “Certainly. I can be there by this afternoon.”

“Oh.” Now you felt bad. “You don’t have to just run for me. I can meet you tomorrow.”

“I don’t have to. But I’d like to.”

Well. That settled it, then.

---

He arrived sooner than he promised. A little after eleven. Pepper showed him into your office. Though you’d only just been able to break from your stupor and get a small amount of work done, his presence superseded anything else you had to do that day. Mostly because you missed him but also because you had asked him to come here and to ignore him after the fact or ask him to wait would be rude.

He was dressed rather casually, something you’d never seen him do before. And, as you got up from your desk and walked over, you inspected him just a little. Dark slacks, an argyle sweater, a warm trench coat with a cable knit scarf- which you reached up to give a little tug. “Who’s dressing you these days? They’re doing a wonderful job.”

His grin was honest. “I dress myself, thank you.”

“You’ve always had good taste.”

“I’m glad you’ve not forgotten.”

It was with great ease and relief that you lifted up on tippy-tip-toe and wound your arms around his neck, hugging him tight. His reaction was just as kind and swift, his own coming around the mid of your back. Holding to you. You missed him. The embrace probably said all that and more. But he also deserved a life free of being held to your every beck and call- even if that’s what he’d said he wanted to do.

When finally the two of you found it in yourselves to part, you rocked back a little on your heels. “Would you mind taking a walk around the park with me?”

His expression turned curious “It’s frightfully chilly outside. And snowing.”

“Well lucky for us I have a jacket and an umbrella.” Easy remedies to the problems he was posing. It would just be nice to go outside and get some fresh air. Be away from all the reminders that you weren’t doing as much as you could.

For a moment he seemed like he might deny you, but then you realized he was thinking about something else. “And what of your engagement ring?”

To this your brows shot straight up in surprise. He’d caught you completely off guard. Your hands went to your hips. “Rhodey blabbed??” Disappointed if that was the case but not necessarily mad.

JARVIS’ half smirk was very telling. “You mistake me for a fool. I assure you, I’m not.”

You weren’t really sure what he meant by that. “Are we being too obvious?” You and Tony had only tried to make it extremely clear that the holiday party could not be missed.

“Perhaps. But… while my estimations were that that would be the next step the two of you took… I was merely guessing.”

The shake of your head was a little too quick. “Ah. You tricked me. I see.” Walking away from him then to grab your jacket hanging on the back of the door. A dramatic sigh escaped you as you shouldered your coat on. “And to think I was excited to tell you myself…”

A bout of sadness mixed with nervousness caught him. “-I didn’t mean to ruin the moment.” Worried that he’d done exactly that. And feeling pretty bad about it.

You took him by the arm. “You could never ruin anything.” Assuring him. Not wanting him to carry that weight around. “Shall we?”

It took him a second to rebound, but eventually he did smile with a nod. “We shall.”

---

The first thing you did was bring him down the block to get coffee. Despite all the common occurrences- superheroes and battles being waged across the city more often than ever- everyone had their phones up snapping pictures. Maybe it was that the world wasn’t used to seeing The Vision being so casual. ...all the more reason to soften up his image a little. Make him a little less alien and new and more just… like the rest of everyone else. What better way to do that than to put a Starbucks frou-frou latte in his hand.

He insisted on holding the umbrella as the two of you walked. And despite the extremely sensitive nature of literally every topic you wanted to and did talk with him about, you weren’t worried for some reason about interlopers. Sure, there were paparazzi camping on the other side of the street, matching your strides, snapping pictures, but… you and JARVIS were in your own little world. And it felt good to just let it all out. Talk with him. Confide in him.

By the time you were finished you were part way into Central Park. The lattes had long ago lost their heat. You’d finished unloading on him, and the two of you stood lakeside as he thought. His gaze was distant. Almost like he was calculating every bit of information you’d handed to him and trying to figure out the best approach to deal with everything. But. When he was finished and he turned again to look at you-

“I think… there is merit in planning. In the efforts of planning. But if you don’t mind my saying so, that is not your strength.”

This you didn’t expect to hear from him at all. Your brows went straight up and your head tipped to the side. “Really.”

There was just a tick of nervousness. Very small and barely noticeable. It was clear he didn’t want to say the exact wrong thing. He continued on regardless. “Tony’s great strengths are in his futurism ways. He’s able to see- what he hopes will come and knows what will not. And he plans. He builds. But where that is his strength, his weakness is action in the moment. Without following a set path, should something wrong happen, he becomes impulsive and brash. He falls back to others. Like Rogers. Like you.”

This was a whole hell of a lot to take in. But as you listened, as you did think about all of it… JARVIS had some very fine points. Tony was the smartest man on earth no doubt, but he was also the dumbest sometimes, too. And brash was an understatement. You remembered very clearly an incident with a reporter that then led to a missile being blasted at your house in California. It wasn’t that Tony couldn’t handle situations, he could, but JARVIS was right. Given the choice he always seemed to ask the people he trusted in heated moments what they thought the next right move was instead of ordering and falling back to his own sense.

As you were still struggling with all of this, JARVIS took a breath and then continued. “You can only prepare for an event or a future so much until it starts causing your detriment. I think all the fallout shelters that litter this world are a great example of such. Preparing for a future that would never come, some even driving men to madness.” This. This was where you and Tony were right now. You knew that’s what he was getting at. And Tony had been there- stewing in that trying-to-prepare madness a few times more than you.

Building an army of suits that he then… destroyed more than half of. That impulsivity again… And your suit too, all in the efforts of preparation. Every upgrade, every little touch. You sighed, watching your breath hang on the air. “I hope you’re not about to tell me I just need to ignore everything and go on with my life.” As if that was even an option.

His smile was sweet. “You and I both know that would be advice that would go unheeded. No. What I mean to say, is that where Tony’s strength is his planning, yours is your action. You are guided by some strange force, I have no doubt, in moments where it seems like all is lost. You always know what to do. Or what to say.”

Denial was so very easy. Your head was shaking and you turned just a little bit away. “I can’t say I agree.”

“I know you won’t, but please at least consider what I’m saying. This is why people look to you. It is not for your planning, it is for what you will do in moments that matter. How you will quell fears and calm hearts with well placed words. You make a sense of the impossible and follow through for the betterment of everyone behind you. Please just… think about this. About every time you found yourself in a terrible situation, but your heart guided you out. Your care for others makes you a very powerful force in every moment where it mattered.”

“So… what?” You lifted a hand at him in a half shrug. “You’re seriously telling me to just ignore all this and go with the flow? Just count on that I’ll know what to do when I have to do it?” This wasn’t a very reasonable plan.

Smile gone then, he frowned softly. “I am asking you to trust that Tony will plan for everything that he can. And for the things that he cannot, I know you will find your way out on the other side. I have seen it time and time again.” Still a little upset that this was the conclusion he was drawing, you opened your mouth to continue arguing, but he stopped you. “Did you plan to call me here? Or did you just do it?”

It was like he’d caught you in a trap. You felt like you were caught. Like a kid with their hand in the cookie jar. “I… I wanted to spend some time with you. And talk with you about all this.”

Strangely, he offered up his half empty coffee cup and without thinking you reached to take it from him. His then free hand moved to lay on your shoulder. “And here I am.” There was so much weight to this.

You called him because you wanted to talk- so you should trust him. You called him because you wanted to spend time with him- and he’d heeded this need without a second thought. Maybe part of you knew he would.

...was JARVIS on to something here?

“Hey- uh- excuse me?” Before you could make heads or tails of this new advice or what to do with it, a young voice called your attention. Both you and JARVIS turned and were greeted with the sight of a stout young man with dark hair and eyes. “Sorry- I’m sorry to bother you-”

You gave him a smile to let him know he was alright. “That’s okay. What’s your name?” JARVIS stood back a little uncomfortably. Obviously unused to these types of situations.

His grin was suddenly explosive and sunny. “Ned. I uh- would it be cool to get your autographs?” He then held up a very crumpled piece of paper- probably something that was shoved deep into one of his coat pockets, not exactly expecting to see either of you. He also produced a pen that you were mostly sure wasn’t going to work in this temperature.

This was an easier break so you jumped at the opportunity. “Sure thing. Would you mind holding one of these?”

“Of course! What are you drinking, anyway? Oh- hey- can you make it out to my friend over there?” He shifted just a little to nod to said kid, light brown hair, deep-set frown, and dressed in a jean jacket (too cold for such a fashion choice). Someone who wasn’t even really there at all.

Your attention went to him. He was staring out, probably looking at nothing. Spacing out. Somewhere far away. He was cloaked in such a heavy sadness. “Is your friend okay?”

Ned considered him a little more carefully. “That obvious, huh? I’ve been trying to get him out of the house all week. His aunt finally made him leave. So… now we’re here and… honestly he’s not having a good time. But I don’t know what else to do.”

“What would make him happier?” The kid was internally shaking with such grief. It was an easy guess to make- sudden loss.

“Oh I don’t… I dunno. I thought maybe an autograph or a selfie but. I don’t even think he heard me when I said I saw you. Here. Hold on-” Ned put one hand to the side of his mouth. “Yo! PETE! COME HERE!” Yelling so loud everyone in the immediate vicinity heard him.

Said Pete looked up finally, a little startled from his dark and stormy thoughts. He looked for the sound of his friend’s voice and zeroed in pretty instantly. And then he looked at JARVIS. And then at you. And embarrassment flushed through him. A strange reaction to have, really. But it did the trick and he broke free from his thoughts as he gave an awkward jog over.

His smile was an uneasy one. “Hey- hi- sorry. Is he bothering you?” Pretending like he had any control over the situation but there was a shyness here that was hard to deny. Not surprising. Considering. Well. Who you were.

“Not at all. I was about to sign my name on a piece of paper but I thought I should get your name first.” You made sure to give him a very warm smile.

He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Oh uh- I’m- uh. Peter. Peter Parker.” The name hit you upside the head. So much so that it left your brows squinched as you stared at him. Trying to remember where you’d heard that before. His unease came back tenfold. “Did I uh… did I say something wrong?”

“No it’s just- oh!” Your revelation startled all three boys standing there. “I remember you!” You were suddenly a million miles away in your memories. Crouching down to help a small child.

“I’m waiting.”

“Waiting for who?”

“Iron Man.”

Such a small and scared child. Holding on to the hope that Iron Man might come back. Excited that he’d gotten to help. But overwhelmed with everything that had gone on. Scared and lost. Just really wanting to go home.

“I won’t- Peter, what’s your last name- so I can have Iron Man send you a personal thank you note!”

“Peter Parker!!!”

“Thank you for your help, Peter Parker!” You returned to the present to see Ned’s mouth agape and Peter was turning a certain shade of nervous red. “Oh. Really?” Not believing you at all no matter how good it felt to be told that.

You laid a hand on his shoulder, imparting with it a warmth that matched that smile you were still wearing. It cut through the cold and the sadness inside of him. “Of course I do. The Expo. Took me a minute. You’re a lot bigger than when I last saw you.”

His own smile in turn then was extremely bashful as he shook his head. “Yeah well I’ll um… I’ll try to stop that.”

A soft little laugh escaped you and this boosted him all the more. “What? You thought I was lying?” He gave a shrug. “Well you know. I’m sure you meet hundreds of people every day- not lying by the way- just-... just uh…” He didn’t want to call you a liar but he didn’t know how else to phrase that thought. Stuck now. You helped him out. “Sure. I do. But none like Peter Parker.”

His head ducked. “Alright- now you’re either trying to embarrass me or make me look really cool.”

Ned gave him a nudge. “My gut says mega cool. Dude. How have you not told me about this before?”

“I don’t know- it’s never come up-”

“You parade that letter around from Tony like it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to you, meanwhile-”

“Ned- shut up!” Embarrassment taking such a deep hold of Peter then as he gave him a playful little shove. Ah. Kids. Wonderful. They were both laughing at each other after squabbling a moment longer and you could just tell. It did Ned’s heart a lot of good to hear the sound of Peter’s laugh. And it did Peter a lot of good to be able to laugh. So. Peter really admired Tony. Had held onto that letter that you’d had sent his way. The next step was pretty clear. “How would you boys like to go visit the Stark Labs?” While Ned was excited, Peter was over the moon. Like you’d just offered him the world. Stars were in his eyes. Color returned to his otherwise gray heart in small drips. “Really?” “Sure.” Nodding firmly. “I’ll call Happy and let him know to expect you. Feel free to have lunch on us in the cafeteria, too. Oh-” You pretended like you’d only just remembered. “Tony will probably be there. You’re okay with that, right?” “Dude- are we okay with that?” Ned was about to explode. Peter was grinning. “We- we are very okay with that. As long as he’s okay with that- I’d… I don’t want to interrupt Mr. Stark or anything. I’m sure he’s working on all kinds of important stuff.”

You waved your hand, still holding on to that piece of paper. “Don’t worry about him. He loves visitors. He’ll show you around.”

“Really?” Both were practically jumping at the prospect. “Absolutely. Go on. Go head over there now. I’ll have Happy meet you in the lobby.” Decided then that that was exactly what they were going to do. How could you not after the way they’d reacted?

“Thank you-” About twenty of those got thrown at you frantically, but each one packed with the exact sort of gratitude two teenage kids would have over an opportunity like this. You sent them off with two equal pats on the shoulders and heard little bits of their chattering conversation as they hurried away. About how cool you were and how awesome that had been. The sudden burst of adoration from JARVIS had you quickly turning his way. He was smiling at you. In such a way that… “What?” Looking up at him confused. Not sure what he was thinking about just then.

Just a touch of nervousness held him then but he managed to get the thought out. “This may be a bit gauche, however… have you and Tony talked about having children?” Shock got the better of you, having in no way expected him to say something like that. Rebuff was extremely easy as you had no idea how to react to him saying something like that to you. “Gauche, huh? This is a little beyond gauche.” A chuckle escaped him and his head dipped. “Yes, well… I just feel as though your maternal talents are wasted on a cat.” With a little mock offense in your tone, “She does not agree with you.” The teasing mood seemed to die very quickly. He was looking at you. Considering if he should say what it was he seemed to want to say. His courage was enough to get him there. “...as well as Ultron. Who was too blind with fury to know how good he had it, until the moment when he realized it was all gone. And then he wisely begged for one last sunrise with you.”

Stunned would have been putting it mildly. Your heart was strangely aching yet full to bursting. Did JARVIS think about that often, you wondered. To say all this… it was hard to know how to react. You tried to keep the mood light. “Hmn. And this coming from-” Whatever you wanted to say it didn’t matter. His hand reached out, brushing yours, taking hold of it. Grounding you. Making you understand just how deeply he felt about this. “Someone who has never had the mind to complain about how and when you place your care. ...and has been eternally grateful for it, as well.”

Heat touched your face. As well as your heart. There wasn’t really a good word to define your relationship with JARVIS. Anything that existed would either be too little, not close enough, or maybe even too much. But you knew that you loved him. Immensely. And he felt the same way. It was exactly those feelings that guided you up on tiptoe once again, putting an arm around him. Squeezing him. Something he returned in the very next instant.

...kids, huh?

---

That Thursday came almost a little too fast. Sounds of merriment and cheer rang from party central. Pepper had done an utterly fantastic job. The room was decorated beautifully. The caterers had arrived early, set up, and were serving to perfection. And the bar was fully stocked and manned. Music selection was- ...well that was easy. But. The atmosphere was perfect. And you let her know how much you appreciated that.

People trickled in and out. Stark and DC employees who were grateful to have free booze and food and a warm place to be with people they semi-liked. You indulged in more than once holiday slowdance. Everyone was having a good time. Even as the hours passed by and those not closest left. All as it should be. Leaving a table of Avengers and ex-SHIELD employees all joking and laughing with each other. Coulson had come, like he’d promised, and with him he’d brought May. Even Clint and Laura had managed to get a babysitter and come out (with the help of a private jet courtesy of Stark Industries, of course). Natasha had been keen to keep with them through the night. Helen Cho had introduced you to her son Amadeus early in the night but he’d been far more interested in talking to Tony than he had you. No hard feelings. Even Fury and Maria were there, too.

Steve had come with Sharon- which was more than a nice surprise. It was good that he was still trying to find his way in that world and not giving up hope. Although Sam seemed to hang around them like they were an official throuple. You wouldn’t judge, if that were the case. ...though you would be extremely surprised.

Wanda and Pietro had kept mostly to themselves but had loosened up a little more as the night went on. You’d noticed they also kept pretty glued to JARVIS’ side. You’d have to ask him what that was about. Maybe new-Avenger comradery?

Happy, Rhodey, and Pepper had all stayed, too. It felt like one big family. It had its problems- a lot of them- but for one night… just for one night you wanted everyone to be happy and get along. Your heart also ached at the thought of Bruce still being gone. Not here, where he should be. And Thor, too. Missing. So not a complete family but… the only one you had right now.

You and Tony had come back from the wine cellar with a special bottle of champagne, and as you carried in your arms over to the laughing group, all eyes went up your way. Tony put an arm around your shoulder, and Natasha raised her glass of wine with a little half smirk. “Come on, already.”

Maria seemed to be in agreement. “Yeah. Out with it. We’ve been waiting all night.”

Steve seemed a little confused. “Waiting on what?”

Clint lounged back. “Beats me. What are we going on about now?” Laura gave him a little pat on the leg. “Just give it a second.”

JARVIS, Rhodey, Pepper, and Happy by contrast were all trying (and failing) to hold back smiles. So. It seemed to some people this rouse was entirely see-through. And to others… well. They were a little more easily tricked. Not that this was a trick, but a… setup to an announcement. But still. They were kind of stealing the wind from your sails. Strangely despite this, it helped. You really had no idea how to do something like this. How to announce it without it being weird or stuffy or even strangely condescending in a way or- You were thinking too much. And all eyes were on you. So. “Tony and I are getting married.”

Cheers and congratulations leaked out from all around, though some sat a little in their surprise. Steve most of all. But eventually the shock melted away leaving a simple smile, and him reaching for Sharon’s hand. He looked up at you. “When’s the date?” Tony’s arm around your shoulder gave you a little squeeze. “We haven’t gotten there yet. But what I will tell you is that it will be a painfully expensive, terribly annoying destination wedding that you all have to pay your own way to.”

Boos and groans and even some stray pieces of popcorn were thrown his way. It was hard to dodge, while you were still connected to him, so you had to accept a few kernels to the face. Through laughter you gave the next most important piece of information, “This is also still a secret. So we’ll appreciate your discretion.”

Natasha’s smile was just so knowing. “Right. Well… how long exactly has this been a secret?”

Tony’s pride was beaming. “It happened on my birthday.” Through the gasps and mock noises of annoyance that the two of you would hold out on them for that long-

You piped up, “And then happened again on our anniversary.” Confusion entered into play, only until you and Tony fished your respective rings out of your pockets.

People got up then, all clamoring to get a look. They were happy. For the two of you. You weren’t sure what to ask for, out of all this, but… that was about as good as it got. Sam nursed the bottom of his beer but pointed your way. “So let me get this straight. He proposed to you and then you proposed to him.”

Steve put a hand on his hip. “Gotta be honest… seems like exactly the sort of thing they’d do.”

“Thank you?” That seemed like a rib but you decided to try and take it as a compliment. You and Tony were a team, after all, which is exactly what you’d said to him that night. It was why you wanted to engage him right back.

Tony’s smile to Steve was a little encouraging. “You’ll get there.”

Sharon put a hand up. “You’re putting an awful lot of pressure on me. I don’t think I appreciate it.” Smiling while she so obviously teased.

Coulson crossed his arms. “So. It’s obvious which people in the room got the news before the rest of us. But who did you actually tell first?” It was strange that he would ask something like this.

And it also put you in a terribly awkward situation… considering…

Tony took the lead (...and also what you were assuming might have been bait). “Aunt Peggy, actually.”

Rhodey, Happy, Pepper, and JARVIS seemed to soften all at the same time, knowing exactly why that was so important. Those were exactly the people who would. Steve and Sharon, however… seemed a little… lost for words. And this is exactly what you didn’t want to deal with. Especially because you weren’t sure if Steve even knew about Sharon yet. That was not your secret to tell. You held up the hefty bottle of champagne. “This is killing my arms. Can we open it?”

Tony held up a finger. “It was also extremely expensive. You know how I like to do things. So I’d appreciate it if you all pretend you like it.”

Mirth successfully recovered. Terribly awkward situation avoided. What more could you ask for? He escorted you away to the bar to set the bottle down. Tony started uncaging it. You sighed. “Well. That could have been bad.”

He gave a shrug. “Pretty tame, by all accounts.” His smile was giving him away.

You put your arm around his middle and nuzzled his shoulder. He was happy to be able to tell more people. When the world was let in he might really start doing all those daytime talkshows. “I love you.”

His focus shifted immediately and he turned towards you to wrap you up in his tight embrace. “I love you.”

Champagne be damned. You wound your arms around his neck and pressed up closer into him. He welcomed you there, lips meeting yours. You delighted in the comfort of him. The love that was always there for you- but especially now. Sinking in to him was all too easy.

So maybe that kiss had gone on a little longer than you meant it to. Because all too soon more jeers were being cried from the other side of the room. Along with one lone voice- “I’m getting thirsty- would you hurry it up?”

Tony smiled against your lips. “Seems like our audience awaits.” Half mumbling this against your mouth.

“They can await one minute longer.”

“Hmn.” A little hum beset by one kiss and into another. “You won't’ find me complaining.”

He wouldn’t. But they did. ...still didn’t stop the two of you from relishing in each other just a little longer.

#Tony Stark #Tony Stark x Reader #INY Chapter One Hundred Ninety Four

5 notes · View notes

emotionally-imbruised · 5 years

Text

A Tail of Their Own II: You’re Welcome

“It’s nice to see that humans never change.”

Word Count: 7.7k

One of the first things Harry learned about Y/N, was that she was basically an open book. Any question he asked, she answered. Usually, her reply was with a sarcastic quip or sassy comment, but nonetheless, she would still tell him an answer to anything he was curious about. Sometimes he even felt he asked too much, but how could he not? She was a mermaid after all.

Their first week together had been interesting, to say the least. Y/N had taken up residence in one of the extra bedrooms down the hall from his own and had slowly been adapting to life on land, all with Harry’s help, of course.

She was extremely thankful for everything Harry had done for her within that week. He always gave her the space she needed, would check-in to see if there was anything she needed, and was just always there to make sure she was taken care of. He didn’t make her feel like a burden, and Y/N was convinced he’d never understand just how much she appreciated that.

The two of them had bonded much more than either was anticipating, which was shocking and exciting to both. Y/N always had a hard time trusting humans, but somehow this particular trip onto land changed that entirely. She was glad it was Mitch and Sarah who had found her on that beach because if it weren’t, who knows where she would have ended up? And who knows if she would have ever met Harry because of it. Now, that was a thought she didn’t like thinking about.

Harry found himself warming up to Y/N way faster than he expected too. He was still well aware that the entire situation of her just being there was not normal, but half the time it was so easy for him to forget.

She was magnetic. There was just something about her that not only drew Harry in but captivated everyone else too. Maybe it was the way she presented herself. Always calm, cool, collected, and very curious about the world around her. However, she was also completely unafraid to speak her mind if she felt so inclined, something which Harry learned the hard way on numerous occasions.

The first time was about two days after the two of them had met. Upon finding Y/N resting in his bed, Harry had been insanely busy with work. If he wasn’t at the studio, he was at a meeting, and if he wasn’t in a meeting, he was planning. Having a career in the music industry was stressful and overwhelming, so when the opportunity came for him to finally be able to go home, he took it and ran.

Y/N had only seen him in passing during those first two days. They’d spent her entire first night talking about, well, everything, but after that, she barely saw him. He had given her the rundown of how certain things in the house worked, told her to welcome herself to anything, and to call him if she needed to as well (leaving a cell phone at the house with only his personal number in it). It was simple enough, and Y/N made do, but that particular night was different.

Harry had arrived back at the house earlier than he had the other two nights, and with three large shopping bags. Having spent the last couple of days piecing together odd clothing items to make something that Y/N could wear, he got somewhat of an idea of what size she wore and what she liked. This was mainly so that she could actually wear something other than the clothes Sarah had given her as well as a couple different t-shirts of his own.

On his way home, he stopped at a nearby shop to gather a few different items. Unsure of what she’d like, Harry settled on what he assumed to be the basics. Some jeans, a couple pairs of shorts, two dresses, a handful of shirts, and a sweater. He was pretty proud of himself for picking everything out and only hoped that the items would fit, and that she would like them.

The way Y/N’s face lit up when he told her the bags were all for her, was something Harry knew he’d never forget. She was unable to form a proper sentence due to her excitement, which soon lead to her pleading with him in attempts to find a way she could possibly pay him back.

“S’alright, really,” Harry explained as he watched her excitement slowly fade into stress. It was apparent Y/N was not used to someone doing something like this for her and simply did not know how to address it. “I figured you could use a few other things to wear.”

“You really didn’t have to do that, Harry,” Y/N sighed. “I would have figured something out. That money you left me yesterday, I used it to go buy some underwear and a bra. You’ve done so much already, and all I’ve done is taken advantage of it.”

He couldn’t help but feel his cheeks burn in embarrassment about just how blunt she was, but nonetheless, he knew he had to stand his ground. “You haven’t, Y/N. Please, just take them. I’m not even sure if they’ll fit you or if you’ll like them, but they’re here for you anyways.”

“I’m sure I’ll love them,” she responded defeatedly, before hesitantly reaching for the first bag.

Y/N grinned widely while taking each item out so she could get a good look at them. Not once did that smile falter as she inspected every piece of clothing, explained how much she liked it and proceeded to thank Harry all over again.

A similar smile stayed planted on Harry’s mouth as he watched her do this, and before he knew it, she was about to pull out the last item. This one he knew would be her favourite, for the minute he saw it, he instantly thought of her.

Y/N felt her breath hitch when she pulled out the final item, a dress, and she couldn’t help but stare at it in awe. It was a sundress, one that wasn’t too long or too short, and could easily be worn casually or dressed up. The material felt soft and smooth between her fingertips, which she really liked, but what she loved, even more, was the design.

It was white and had an effortless yet stunning floral print covering most of it; and to make matters better, each flower outline was a different colour. Various shades of pink, purple, blue, and green were all delicately stitched into the white fabric, creating an effect that reminded Y/N of something completely different, yet very special. Her tail.

“It’s beautiful, Harry.”

“I thought you’d like that one best,” he replied. “If none of them fit, I’ll make sure to exchange them an-.”

His words were cut off when a pair of arms wrapped around his waist and pulled him in for a tight hug. After a tense, unexpected moment, Harry eventually melted into her embrace and returned the gesture. “Thank you so much.”

“S’no problem at all,” he tells her as she moves away to look up at him again.

“You’re too nice to me,” Y/N then stated. Harry was about to ask what she meant by that but never got the chance once she started speaking up again. “I uh, I figured out how to make coffee. Can I at least pay you back with a cup of that?”

He thought about asking her still, curious as to why someone could have it in them to not be nice to her but decided to drop it. “That would be lovely.”

The two of them made way to the kitchen, and Y/N got right to work or tried to at least. She took a bit longer than the average person as she studied the machine for a moment while trying to remember which buttons she had to press. Harry couldn’t help but laugh when she jumped after pressing the wrong thing and caused hot water to start spewing all over the place. She recovered quickly though, Harry gave her that much, but he still burst into laughter when she managed to turn it off and scowl at him.

A few moments later, Y/N walked over to sit on the barstool beside him with two steaming hot mugs, focusing intently on trying not to spill anything. Once she was settled, they engaged in conversation. Harry explained how busy work was, to which she nodded in understanding before telling him how she really hadn’t gotten up to much without him there; having been a bit nervous about leaving the house on her own unless it was quick.

He wanted to know why she was nervous but hadn’t found it within himself to ask her about that yet. Although, he was still insanely curious as to why she ended up on land in the first place. However, his thoughts were interrupted when a loud gasp sounded from beside him, and a pair of hands gripped onto his left forearm.

“What! What’s the problem?”

“You!” Y/N replied with a shocked expression as she rotated his arm in her grasp. He watched what she was doing, and then he saw it. “You’re a hypocrite.”

His mermaid tattoo. He hadn’t even thought about that and had to internally smack himself when she looked up to him and waited for a response. “I uh, well.”

“You give me a hard time because,” she paused to hold up air quotations and mimic his voice, “‘mermaids aren’t real,’ but yet, here you are with one permanently on your arm!”

He couldn’t tell if she was actually upset or not, but as he observed the slightest of smiles tug at her lips after a moment passed, he knew she wasn’t. So naturally, he had to play along.

“You know, I was really hoping you wouldn’t notice,” he started dramatically. “Because the truth is, I’ve known about mermaids for years now. I was sworn to secrecy, though. The whole ‘me not knowing what to do when I found one in my bed’ thing? That was fake.”

“I hate you.”

“Ouch, hate is a strong word, Y/N.”

A small chuckle left her mouth although she tried really hard to cover it up. “So, you lied then? I don’t think I’ll be able to trust you after this, Harry. I may never forgive you.”

“No?”

“Nope,” Y/N shook her head before looking down at the tattoo again. “Also, I don’t know what other mermaids you’ve seen, but we’re usually not that… exposed.”

“Fair enough,” he laughed and looked down at the ink as well. “Guess I kinda left it open for interpretation.”

“Whatever you say,” she responded as she stood up with their now empty mugs and walked around the island to place them in the sink. “It’s still going to take me a while to forget this.”

Harry grinned at just how hard she was trying to act serious and thought of ways to break her facade; an idea springing to his mind when his gaze fell on the long retractable hose that was attached to the sink.

Suddenly, he leaned across the counter to grab ahold of the hose with one hand and pointed it in her direction.

“Oh, really?”

Y/N watched with a narrowed gaze as he placed his other hand on the tap in preparation to turn it on and spray water at her. “You wouldn’t.”

“Wanna bet?” Harry challenged, knowing full well what would happen if she got wet and was unable to dry herself fast enough. Just to mess around with her a little bit, he turned the water on and had to stifle another laugh when it hit her square on the arm.

“Harry!” The annoyance was clear in Y/N’s voice as she grabbed a nearby dish towel and wiped away the water from her skin.

“What?” He asked innocently before turning the water on again and watching as it soared past her and hit the stainless steel fridge on the other side of the room.

She turned to look at the mess he just created before slowly facing him again with wide eyes. “What are you, twelve?”

“On a scale of one to ten, yes,” Harry replied nonchalantly before spraying the water at her again, and laughing as she desperately tried to dodge it.

“Can you not? I’m not particularly feeling like growing a tail today.”

“Oh, but being a human is just so boring.”

Y/N went to sass him back but had to cut herself off when more water came flying her way, and she ducked behind the counter for cover. There was no way she was moving from her spot until she decided on an escape plan, so she desperately tried to come up with one. After a quick moment of viewing her surroundings, she decided that her best option was to just make a break for the doorway. Slowly, she got into position and was just about to go when she noticed how things were quiet, too quiet, and soon halted her actions.

“Harry?”

Nothing. Just dead silence. Y/N waited for another minute and debated on peeking over the counter to see where he’d gone to, but there was no need for a second later he appeared around the corner with a full glass of water.

A small shriek left her mouth as she scrambled away from him. She eventually got to her feet in time without getting wet before booking it out of the room. Harry was right after her though and continued chasing after her for another fifteen minutes. He didn’t intend to actually soak her to the extent of her turning back into a mermaid, but the two of them were having fun. And it was a nice break from reality for both with everything else that was going on around them.

As the days went by, the two grew even closer. After that night of messing around in the kitchen, they started making it a routine to just simply be around one another whenever they could. They played cards, listened to music, watched movies, and talked about the day’s events whenever Harry returned home.

It was a good system, but Harry still had those lurking thoughts about not really knowing why Y/N ended up on land, or if she was planning on just up and leaving one day soon.

Soon enough, that day came. It was over a week since he’d first met her that Harry decided to address the topic just so he could have an idea of everything; specifically how she ended up on that beach. It wasn’t that she had become a bother to him or anything, that wasn’t the case at all. But after he helped her from the shower and talked to her for most of the night — getting the lowdown on mermaid history, until she eventually decided to go off to bed. As soon as she was gone, he called Sarah.

Sarah explained to Harry how she and Mitch found Y/N, what had happened, and their process of bringing her back to his house. Other than the entire situation being completely abnormal, he didn’t really question anything. However, just before she was about to hang up, Sarah mentioned the way Y/N kept looking out at the water nervously, almost as though something, or someone, was watching her. She didn’t know what it was and told Harry he should try and figure it out.

He agreed but decided to give Y/N some time to maybe mention it to him herself. She never did, and that bugged Harry all week.

It wasn’t that he felt she was trying to hide it from him, it had just never really come up in conversation. So, Harry decided that he was going to make it a topic of discussion.

His plan was not to overwhelm her, because realistically, he just wanted to know if there really was something out in the water, or if it was something else entirely. He really didn’t know what he was getting into, but if there was a possibility of being able to help her in any way, he was all for it. She’d become somewhat of a friend at that point, and friends helped friends.

When he got home that afternoon, he was surprised to not find her roaming around the main floor. Usually, she was in the kitchen attempting to cook something, or curled up on the couch in the living room with one of the many books he’d already read. But that day, she wasn’t. In fact, there was no sign of her being downstairs at all.

Maybe she’d gone for a walk? Harry wasn’t too sure, and just when he thought about calling the cell phone he gave her, a small sneeze sounded from upstairs, and he knew there was no need.

After taking his shoes off, he gradually made his way up the staircase. Once he reached the top, he went to go left towards the bedroom Y/N was staying in only to find it the door wide open with no one inside. Confusion washed over him again, but then he heard the faint intro song of a tv show from down the hall. More specifically, his room.

Slowly, he turned on his heel and started walking towards his bedroom. Sure enough, when he got there, the door was partially opened while an episode of Queer Eye played on the huge television screen. He quietly pushed the door open to reveal Y/N wrapped up in a blanket and leaning against the headboard, not taking her eyes off the screen once to acknowledge his presence.

Her hair was in a lopsided bun, tied up loosely with a hair elastic she must’ve found laying around somewhere, which he could just barely notice beneath the sizeable black hood she had pulled over her head. She was wearing his hoodie and a pair of his track pants, and although he wasn’t exactly expecting to come home to that, he couldn’t help but notice how content she seemed to be.

Harry then leaned against the doorway, grinning as he observed just how focused she was on what was happening during that episode, all while mindlessly remaining curled up against his mountain of pillows. It was quite the scene, that was for sure.

“You cold?”

He knew that by speaking up he’d get some sort of reaction, and sure enough, as soon as he did, a loud gasp left Y/N’s mouth.

“Oh!” She started and began scrambling to stand up from her spot on the bed. “I uh, I didn’t know you’d be back so soon.”

“So you decided to watch Queer Eye?” He chuckled at how flustered she was becoming. “In my room.”

“Well, yeah,” Y/N responded, shifting awkwardly from one foot to the other. “I wanted to watch something and couldn’t figure out how to work the TV downstairs, so I came back up here, and your screen was on. So I just…”

“Made yourself at home?”

“Well if we’re being technical, you did tell me to do that,” she grumbled and looked away, not noticing just how hard Harry was trying to keep himself from laughing. “I’m sorry ok! Your bed is really comfy, and it was just easier that way. I also got pretty cold so I kind of, just, stole your clothes I guess.”

“M’not mad, Y/N,” Harry told her as he pushed away from the doorway and walked into the room. “I’m just teasing you.”

“Why do humans do that so much?”

He cocked his head to the side to look at her oddly. “What do you mean?”

“These jokes and teasing all the time,” she began to explain. “Mermaids don’t do that.”

“Oh, so mermaids don’t know how to have fun?”

“No, we do, I’m just saying we’re less childish. But at least it’s nice to see humans are still that way.”

“Still that way, huh?” Harry questioned while raising his eyebrows, knowing she was hinting at something. “Please do elaborate on that.”

Y/N hadn’t even realized what she let slip out until Harry called her out on it, but she was extremely casual in playing it off. “Well, I already told you how I was born on land. I’ve seen my fair share of humans and know enough to see how similar many of you act.”

“Ah yes, I know you did but you never actually explained that story to me,” he fired back, knowing that this was his chance to get some more information and only hoped that she’d share it. “That’s all I know is that you were born on land. You told me all about mermaids and how they work, but you never told me about yourself, Y/N. And, well, you’re the only mermaid I actually know.”

“I-,” Y/N started and stopped as she let her gaze fall down to where she was mindlessly twiddling her thumbs. Should she tell him? Would he even believe her backstory and how it tied into why she ended up on land, or how she was trying to avoid returning to the sea? She wasn’t sure, but as she slowly met his gaze again, she decided that he at least deserved the benefit of the doubt. “I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel like I’m keeping things from you, that wasn’t my intention. But it’s a really long story, Harry.”

“Good thing I’ve got time then, yeah?” He asked while smiling warmly at her. “Only if you’re comfortable in sharing, I’d love to hear all of it. Was thinking we could go get some food and maybe chat there?”

Returning the smile and instantly feeling more relaxed at Harry’s reassuring words, Y/N nodded. “Lead the way.”

Y/N quickly ran to her room to change into something different, making sure to neatly fold up Harry’s clothes and leave them on the edge of her bed seeing as she was in no hurry to give them back. She then threw on the other dress Harry had purchased for her a few days prior. It was a soft blue colour, with sleeves that went to her elbows and a little black belt around the waist. It didn’t catch her eye as much as the other dress did, but it was still stunning in her opinion.

Once she was ready, she quickly took her hair out of its bun and let it fall down freely. She almost just left it the way it was, but after taking a look in the mirror, she decided on brushing it before finally rushing down the stairs to meet Harry.

It was hard for her to ignore the blush burning her cheeks when he said how nice she looked, but nonetheless, she returned the compliment (even though he was still wearing the same outfit as before) and the two of them soon headed out to Harry’s car.

“Can I drive?” Y/N asked as they approached his vintage model Jaguar.

“No.”

“Why not?” She continued to press, slightly offended by the fact that he didn’t even consider letting her.

“Do you know how to drive?”

“Well… no.”

“Exactly.”

He had a logical point, and she knew it, but driving was one thing Y/N had always wanted to try and thought that maybe Harry would let her eventually. But for the time being, she reluctantly climbed into the passenger side of the car and pouting for the whole ride to the restaurant.

It didn’t take long for the two of them to get seated by the host, and they both wasted no time in reaching for a menu to search for what they wanted to eat. By the time the waiter came to take their order, Harry had decided on ordering some pasta, but Y/N seemed to be struggling.

“I uh, I’ll just have the Margherita pizza, thank you.”

She was nervous, that much Harry could tell just by observing the way she kept looking at everything around them. So instinctively, he tried to diffuse the situation.

“It’s nice out today,” he started casually and leaned back into his chair, thinking a casual conversation might help. “Not too hot.”

“Yeah,” Y/N muttered as she glanced around yet again. “It’s great.”

There was no emotion in her voice whatsoever, and that was when Harry knew something was up. “Is everything alright, Y/N?”

“Yeah no, everything is fine,” she told him before finally making eye contact again. “It’s just, there’s a lot of people here, and they all seem to be staring at us.”

Harry then moved his gaze to take in their surroundings as well. Sure enough, there were at least three tables of people gawking at them while subtly trying to take pictures. This was something Harry was used to happening, but he felt bad for how it made Y/N uncomfortable. So again, he changed the topic.

“Right. Uhm, try to ignore them if you can. They-.”

“That’s easier said than done, Harry,” she cut him off. “I can hear what they’re saying. I just don’t know why us getting food is any of their business.”

The last part of her statement got unintentionally louder with each word, and Harry had to watch with wide eyes as she sent a glare at one of the people sitting close by. He hadn’t really explained the whole part of him being a celebrity to her quite yet. To be honest, he never felt the need to, but now he couldn’t help but think about how that may be a conversation they have sooner rather than later.

“You’re right,” he started calmly and waited for her to look at him again. “But all we can do is ignore it. They’re harmless, I promise.”

“If you say so.”

“I know so,” he responded before leaning onto his elbows. “Now that we’re here though, why don’t we talk about what you were saying back at the house.”

Y/N was surprised by his sudden change of topic, but she played along and eventually stopped thinking about the other people around her. It was just her and Harry. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“How about at the beginning?”

“Okay,” she nodded and got right into it.

The next ten minutes or so was spent by Y/N telling Harry a very detailed story. She started off by talking about a merman who spent quite a bit of time on land, more than the average mermaid. He loved exploring and was fascinated by the land itself and what it had to offer. Eventually, he met a woman, a human, and they fell madly in love. After that, the merman never returned to the ocean and made an entirely new life on land with his soulmate.

“That’s a lovely story, but what does it have to do with anything?” Harry asked, just as the waiter placed their food on the table in front of them.

“See, that couple I mentioned? Those were my parents,” Y/N explained, and Harry nodded in understanding. “A few years after they got married, they had me. And I was raised on land for the first seven years of my life, with so much love. I always knew I was different. My parents never kept the part of me that was indeed a mermaid hidden, and with that, we all learned how I differed from a regular mermaid as well.”

“And how is that?”

“Well, like I told you last week, mermaids can manipulate water. What I did was nothing compared to what a proper mermaid can do. I’m weaker when it comes to mermaid abilities; however, being on land is where I thrive. Water takes longer to affect me, and I tend to blend in with humans better.”

”Okay, interesting.” Harry hung onto every word that she said, but still going himself to be insanely curious about it all. “Where are your parents now?”

“I don’t know,” she told him with a shrug. “I got separated from them one night when I was seven. It was pretty disastrous, and I promise to tell you that story another day… but, yeah. I’ve been on my own since then. I ventured off by myself and never really felt a need to stay in one place for too long. I’ve explored every ocean on this earth, alone, and even got into a bit of trouble along the way. Especially recently.”

“Surely it couldn’t have been that bad,” he scoffed and looked at her amusedly. All she did was purse her lips in response, and Harry knew right away that something was up. “Unless it was…”

“You’ve seen or read Twilight, right?”

Harry looked at her skeptically, genuinely curious as to where this conversation was going now. “I have, yes. But please do explain how the hell you know what Twilight is.”

Y/N was insulted by what he said and made no effort to hide those feelings when she scoffed disapprovingly. “Just because I’ve lived underwater for most of my life doesn’t mean it was under a rock, Harry. Of course, I know what Twilight is.”

“How did you expect me to know that?” He argued defensively, not being able to hold back a few chuckles as Y/N let out a huff and crossed her arms over her chest dramatically. “Ok, sorry, you were saying.”

“Oh, so now you're interested.”

“Y/N, just tell me the damn story.”

“Fine,” she grumbled and shifted in her seat. “Like on land, mermaids have laws and rules that are put in place to make everything run smoothly. They’re relatively easy rules to follow and don’t get broken often because mermaids are rather peaceful creatures. However, because of how dangerous it can be for us to get exposed, there are systems in effect that can enforce the rules if need be.”

“Ok,” Harry stated with pursed lips. “And how does Twilight play into all of this?”

“I’m getting there,” Y/N hissed and glared at him, letting him know just how badly he was getting on her nerves. “In Twilight, there’s the Volturi, the ones that enforce the vampire laws. Mermaids have the same type of thing, but we just call them the royals. They once had a leader who went missing quite a few years ago, but they’ve done a good job at keeping the peace since then and are greatly respected.”

“Are they as aggressive as the Volturi?”

“No. Well, as far as I know, no.”

Harry thought about Y/N’s explanation and really tried to wrap his head around it all, and what it all had to do with her. “Did something happen between you and these royals?”

Y/N fell silent as she used her fork to start picking at the pizza that remained on her plate, making sure to avoid Harry’s gaze as she did so. “I guess you could say that.”

“Well, what happened?”

She stayed quiet, causing Harry to start feeling a bit uneasy about it all. This time, he shifted in his chair before dropping his voice into a whisper and speaking up again.

“Y/N, what did you do?”

Another sigh left her mouth before she let go of the fork and finally made eye contact with him again. “I royally pissed them off, that’s what I did.”

So many questions ran through Harry’s mind as he processed what she said, however, he was only able to actually form one of them into a sentence. “Is that why you ended up on land?”

Y/N nodded.

“And I dug the hole I was already in even deeper when I let Mitch and Sarah help me. Humans aren’t supposed to know about mermaids. That’s the oldest law we have, and I broke it.”

“But your father,” Harry tried to reason. “Obviously, he did the same.”

“Yeah,” she laughed unemotionally and looked away from him so that he wouldn’t see the tears forming in her eyes. “But there’s a reason I haven’t seen my parents since I was seven, Harry. I haven’t been able to trust anyone since then.”

And it was true, the day she lost her parents, Y/N also lost her ability to rely on others without assuming they had poor intentions.

The sadness in her voice as she explained this, crushed Harry. It blew his mind that someone as carefree and sweet as Y/N had gone through so much, yet still somehow managed to have a smile on her face. And as he thought about it a bit more, he started understanding why she would be so reluctant to trust others.

The thing was, Y/N wasn’t afraid of the world, she was scared of the things it consisted of. Far too many times had she been burned simply by believing someone actually was looking out for her. Realistically, it had always been her against the world. What a lonely life to live.

Her story was a topic she tried extremely hard to avoid. It made her feel vulnerable and weak, two things she was not but, somehow, Harry managed to make her feel comfortable enough to open up about it. He was one of the few people, out of many mermaids and humans she’d come across in life who simply wants nothing but the best for everyone around them. It was an extremely rare feature for someone to have, Y/N realized but was something she greatly admired.

Harry's want to know about her, not as a mythical creature, but as a friend… as an equal was a concept Y/N had trouble wrapping her head around. But yet, here was with someone she’s only known for a week, feeling like she’d known him for so much longer. She could only hope that one day, Harry would know how much that meant to her, because thanks to him, she felt a little less alone.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” Harry finally spoke up after a few moments of silence. He wasn’t sure what to say but figured that could be a good start.

“It’s alright. Sorry to dump that all on you.”

“You didn’t dump anything on me,” he explained. “I was the one who asked, and I should be the one who is sorry for making you talk about it.”

“You know, it’s not something I do very often,” she explained. “But it is nice to open up every once in a while.”

“I could only imagine.”

“Yeah... But thank you for making me feel safe enough to do so.”

Harry just smiled warmly and couldn’t ignore the warm feeling that was bubbling inside of him. “You’re welcome, Y/N.”

The two then fell silent again when the waiter approached with their bills. Still, Y/N felt terrible for letting Harry pay for her meal, but decided not to express her feelings when Harry sent her a narrowed glance.

Once everything was paid for, they left the restaurant and made way to the parking lot again. Y/N expected them to start heading back to the house then, however, it seemed Harry had other plans.

As he was driving the highway, Harry made a last-minute decision to go to the beach instead of going home, and that left Y/N very confused.

“What are we doing here?” She asked as they pulled into an empty dirt parking lot.

“I thought some fresh air would do you some good seeing as you’ve been stuck in the house all week,” Harry answered as he put the car in park and started climbing out of the driver's side. “Unless you want to be lame and just sit here alone.”

“I am not lame,” she argued as he started walking away and she had to scramble out of her seat to go after him.

“Then let’s go.”

“The least you can do is wait!”

“Nah, you can catch up.”

He didn’t have to look back to know that Y/N was scowling at him, but just continued down one of the paths and smiled to himself when she eventually fell in step with him.

“You’re a lot to deal with.”

“Mhm,” he murmured while shaking his head. “Says the mermaid.”

Knowing it’d be a losing battle if she continued arguing with him, Y/N didn’t respond and decided to let him win this round and remained quiet for the rest of their walk.

When they reached the stretch of beach, Y/N couldn’t help but smile. Although she still had no desire to return to the ocean so soon, merely being near it made her feel relaxed. It was the only home she’d ever really known, and she hated the fact that she had basically been forced away from that.

The sun was just beginning to set, and it added a warm, peaceful glow to everything around them. There weren't very many people, which Y/N and Harry both appreciated. It was pretty much just them, a family attempting to build a sandcastle, and a few surfers catching some waves in the distance. Even the food vendors to their left and a place to rent surfing gear on their right were utterly empty aside from the people working in them.

“I always wondered what it’d be like to surf,” Y/N spoke up first, cringing as she watched someone wipe out. “Looks pretty complicated though.”

“Do you want to try?” Harry asked and nodded towards the surf stand as they took a few steps onto the warm sand.

Y/N glanced at the massive waves that were further out and started shaking her head. “I know for a fact, that will not end well. Also, mermaid… remember?”

“Yeah, I guess you wouldn’t want anyone else to find out, huh?”

“Nope. Not at all.”

“Alright, I guess I won’t give you a hard time about it then,” Harry sighed and looked over his shoulder at the stand. “But I’m going to do it.”

Without another word, he started walking away from her and towards the shack. Y/N watched with a raised eyebrow as he started talking to the person working, before walking over to the multiple surfboards laying in a row nearby and picking one up.

A chuckle left her mouth as she watched him struggle with carrying it, but Harry didn’t care as he walked right past her and continued towards the water. “I have an hour with this thing, so let’s see how it goes.”

Once he reached the water's edge, Harry shamelessly took off his shirt and tossed it on the sand, before picking up the board again and going into the water. He didn’t go as far out as the other surfers by any means, just far enough that when a wave came in he could attempt to stand up and let it take him back towards shore.

Y/N found a comfortable place on the sand, watching him and his many mishaps. Each time a wave came in, he’d try to stand on the board but would end up losing his balance and would fall into the water, causing her to laugh. In some weird way, every time he fell seemed funnier than the last, and Y/N thought she might lose her breath because of it.

After at least five tries, Harry finally found his footing and even made it all the way back to shore. He dramatically bowed as Y/N clapped and cheered, before deciding to back out, regardless of there not being much sunlight left at that point.

“Bet I can do it again.”

Y/N was sure he could too, but this time she thought maybe she’d mess with him a little. She watched as he swam back to the same spot and waited for another large enough wave. As soon as there was one, he stood up on the board again and sure enough, was able to keep his balance.

He had an arrogant grin on his mouth when he looked at her, and that when she decided to shake things up. By just looking at the water that was in front of him and nodding, Y/N was able to create a wave of her own that went entirely against the tide.

Harry hadn’t noticed what she was doing until it was too late. He thought his eyes were playing tricks on him when a wave started to form in front of him and seemed to be coming his way at full speed. Eventually, his board came in contact with that wave, and he was lurched forward off the surfboard, and into the water.

By the time he resurfaced, Y/N was laughing harder than she’d ever before. And it only grew more intense when she noticed him glaring at her disapprovingly.

“You think you’re so funny, yeah?” Harry called out as he began his trek back to shore. “Must be nice to make water do whatever you want it to.”

“Oh, don’t be such a grump,” she responded. “I had to bring that ego size down a notch somehow.”

“Whatever,” he grumbled while trudging onto shore with the surfboard in tow. “I have the right to have a big ego, doing that was hard work.”

“I think you made it seem a lot more complicated than it actually is, Harry.”

“I’d like to see you try,” he scoffed while plopping onto the sand next to her, thinking about how he really should’ve brought a towel.

“I’m not going all the way out there,” Y/N told him firmly. “But I’ll show you that I have better balance.”

Without another word, she stood up and started dragging the surfboard back to the water. The tide hadn’t come back yet, so Y/N used that to her advantage as a way to keep herself from getting wet. Once another wave came in, she set the board on the damp sand and pushed it as the tide started retreating again. With a quick breath, she kicked off her shoes before running over the wet sand after the surfboard and leaping onto it before it got too far.

Part of her was ready to face plant as she tried to gain her balance, but much to her (and Harry’s) surprise, she didn’t. Although she wobbled slightly after first getting on the board, Y/N quickly recovered and was able to glide along in ankle-deep water with ease.

Harry watched with a wide grin as she did this and noticed just how excited she got over sticking the landing. He then observed as she manipulated the waves again to change her direction so that she was moving sideways. Once they locked eye contact, she started mimicking a surfer's stance before beginning to dance as she continued gliding.

“Ok show off; we have to return that thing before it gets dark.”

Knowing he was right, Y/N listened to what Harry said and nodded before changing her course of direction again, and going back to shore. Once she came to a complete stop, she hopped off the board and started dragging it back towards Harry again. “Don’t be jealous because you know you wouldn’t be able to do that.”

“Whatever you say,” he replied while taking the surfboard from her hold and lifting it up, all while avoiding her gaze. “I’ll go return this. We uh, we don’t have to leave just yet if you don’t want. S’pretty cool here once the sun is down and the stars come out.”

His suggestion made Y/N smile. It was apparent he didn’t want their little outing just yet, and to be honest, neither did she. “I’d like that. I’ll um, I’ll wait right here.”

Harry returned the smile and nodded before going back to the surf shack. She watched him go before turning back around and making her way back towards the water.

Way off in the distance, the sun was just about to disappear over the horizon; leaving warm streams of pink and purple in its wake. The waves had calmed down, no surfers were out still trying to catch the biggest one, and the only sounds were that of the calm tide coming in momentarily before going right back out.

Y/N really liked viewing the ocean this way. It was one of the prettiest things she had ever seen. She hadn’t witnessed a sunset while on land since she was a child and to be there seeing it, with Harry, was more perfect than she could have ever imagined.

She heard someone approaching behind her and waited patiently for Harry to join where she was standing… but for some reason, the sound just stopped abruptly.

“It’s pretty here, isn’t it?” Y/N asked out loud without turning back around. However, he didn’t answer. She gave him a second, furrowing her eyebrows as to why he wouldn’t respond, but still nothing. “Harry?”

“Try again.”

A surprised gasp left Y/N’s mouth when instead of Harry, a female answered her, and she wasted no time in whipping around to see its source; her breath hitching once she did.

Standing behind her were a man and a woman. They were wearing regular human clothes, but Y/N knew they were far from being actual humans with their identical black hair, pale skin, and the familiar seashell clip that pinned the woman’s long hair away from her face. The same clip that matched the starfish one that rested in Y/N’s hair.

“Oh, no.”

“Oh no is right,” the merman who had spent an entire night chasing her replied as he stepped took a step forward, causing Y/N to take a step back.

She then looked at the mermaid, who just grinned maliciously as she too began stepping towards Y/N’s timid figure.

“You’re a long way from home, Y/N. I guess it’s time that we all go back there now, don’t you think?”

#harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles writing #harry styles preferences #1dff #harry styles au #mermaid!y/n

367 notes · View notes

shinjukuspiritcommittee · 5 years

Text

Sunrise with You (+minor update)

7000 words and counting... this little passion post definitely set me back more than I’d like to admit. But then again, I’ve never really felt this passionate about writing in a while. I have a number of people to thank obviously. Like the devs at LifeWonders for making such a world where these kinds of fanfics are possible. And you, dear readers for giving me a platform to share these cheesy stories and for indulging me so much. Seriously, you guys are the best! And I think it’s about time we let that one guy out of his cell...

~~~

Sunrise with You (Peace)

~With the endless game finally at an end, and the past behind you everything felt… fresh. Everyone in your life was no longer bound by the rules of any game and could live as they wanted. Even the wall that closed you all in no longer stood in your way. Weirdly enough you couldn’t sleep so you had stayed awake staying off at the night horizon. The Tokyo skyline seemed to go on forever with no boundaries to hold you. Just what did lie out there in the world? It was all so exciting. But then, the door to the roof opened and you turned to find…

Zabaniyya

~“Oh, Summoner. It’s unusual to see you out this late.” You explained you had trouble sleeping. Tomorrow was a big day after all. “It will be indeed. Even now the heaven’s give me a sense of peace…” He murmured. The two of you remained stargazing for an immeasurable amount of time, but you knew sunrise was only a little while away now. You then started to ramble a bit. You didn’t know why but you wanted to clear the air as much as possible. You also expressed how much of a relief it was knowing you finally have a place to call home… “I understand the sentiment. To be quite honest, the world beyond those walls always felt… alien in a sense. Just how far does it stretch? Where does it end? If anything, these horizons only seem to grow with each passing moment…” You muttered his name, unsure of how to comfort him. “Lately, I’ve been considering something… Lord Arsalan would always desire me to make a decision of my own but for a long time it felt impossible. Could one such as myself really yearn for a life beyond penance? A torture specialist really living a life of his own?”

~You finally told him that regardless of his past he was still Zabaniyya and every decision was for himself. Even divinity allowed those with their own wills determine their own fate, after all. “Yes, you may be right. And I believe I finally did something about it.” You asked what he was going to do. “That’s… well, remember that day we vowed to one another? Even though it was fake the idea never quite left my mind. What if we were to one day pledge ourselves to one another and just… run away? Be reborn in our own way. Would a life like that be truly acceptable?” For what it was worth you told him it was his decision to decide that. “I see… I feel I’m understanding his teachings after all.” But since he brought it up, now might be a good time to finally ask… you asked him to hold out his hand as you placed an important keepsake in his hand.

~“This is…!” He held Sal’s ring, the same ring he entrusted to you when everything was over. Since it was powerless he teased you to give it to someone special. Those words couldn’t ring more true now. “I’m… I’m speechless.” Was all the fallen angel could say. “Or rather… I’m still afraid to accept this.” You finally just came out and said that you wanted to be by his side and to make a future together for a change. But only if Zabaniyya desired it. He was silent in contemplation for a moment. As the sun rose Zabaniyya pulled you closer to his side and held your hand in his. “Perhaps this is too good to be true, and perhaps I am indulging myself like I did all that time ago. But this once, it no longer matters to me. I feel… genuine happiness knowing you are right here with me. And just as you pledge to me, I swear my oath and gratitude to you. This body, this heart and soul of mine- loves you with every ounce of my being.”

Gunzo

~“You’re still up?” You confirmed it for him and he joined you on the roof. “I couldn’t really sleep either. I tried jogging a bit but that barely did anything.” Gunzo sighed. “I thought maybe I might get tired looking up at the sky instead.” You told him you had a similar idea. “Well, I guess two great minds do think alike.” You sat with Gunzo staring up at the stars and the horizon. You were up for quite a bit, unsure of how much time passed but you enjoyed it. You made sure to tell him that. “Oh, same here. I like doing these sorts of things when it’s just us. Um… what do you think it’s like? Out there I mean.” You told him you weren’t quite sure, and that all you could say for certain was that it was big. “That’s a relief… I can’t quite wrap my head beyond the idea that there’s a whole world yet to be seen. It’s… scary… I’ve grown up here after all, it’s where I met all my friends too. I can’t just leave so easily.” You agreed it was scary to step out into somewhere unknown.

~Gunzo laughed. “The others would probably just laugh at us for being scared, right? It’s over something so simple too…” You did remind him the world could expand an eternity. “Don’t remind me. But, weirdly enough… I wonder what they do in other places? Do others play rugby? Do they take it as seriously as me? Where do I even start?” Gunzo shook his head. “No, I… I have to finish school here at least. Then I can worry about studying abroad like my seniors. Or maybe I’ll get a job… ugh, this is so hard…” You reminded him to take everything at his own pace and that rushing himself would get him nowhere. “You’re right… I’m glad I’ve got you here. I think I’d be pulling my own hair out right now if… n-no forget I said anything.” You took a moment to think and finally decided to give him that.

~“A-A ring!? Hold on, what are you-!?” You told him to hold onto it as a promise ring, and you confessed then and there. You might have broken Gunzo then and there as he simply couldn’t comprehend the magnitude of your statements. “Is… Is this a joke…” He asked before you confirmed it’s the real deal. It was then that all of his emotions came up at once and he pulled you into a tight hug. The embrace was very tight, but loving and genuine. “Please… Please tell me you aren’t joking…!” You reconfirmed it for him and used the L word to seal the deal. As the sun began to rose he started crying a bit in your arms. “Having you… knowing you… heck, LOVING you was the one thing I always felt sure about in a long time! I… I need you to keep me balanced otherwise I’d always forget certain things, be rather clumsy still and get ready to be apologized to a lot! I’m… I’m sorry for needing you!”

Takemaru

~“Hey.” The oni greeted you with a warm smile. You asked what he was doing up so late. “Well, I just finally finished a project I was doing with the rest of my guildmates. I let the others go on ahead to bed, just couldn’t sleep, ya know?” Takemaru walked to your side. “Mind if I stargaze with you a while? I just need some air…” You nodded and proceeded to look up at the sky. Each star seemed to immaculately twinkle tonight but somehow it felt familiar. “Heh, it’s crazy. It’s like no matter where we go, the sky is always the same. It just expands forever. No matter how far from home I am, I always feel like I can get back somehow just by starin’ at the stars.” Takemaru chuckled a bit to himself and crossed his arms. “Still, the past few years have been great. But I’ll be leavin’ again soon, I want to study abroad and learn about all different types a’ architecture. Maybe I’ll get some inspiration for the home I want to make for myself.” You told him that sounded hard but not impossible. “Heh, maybe. But I do know one thing. I want to build my home right here.”

~You were a bit surprised at that. “C’mon it’s not that surprisin’. My friends are all here, along with all the people who were nice enough to a guy like me, even you…” He trailed off. He seemed to be lost in his own thoughts so you asked him what was on his mind. “Hmm… I was just thinkin’ about the future. This place really is like a new home to me. I couldn’t just leave it behind so easily. You especially made sure a’ that. Thanks.” His face reddened a bit but he kept a comforting smile on his face. You thanked him for giving you the chance in the first place. It was a nice change to be on the giving end for once. “…Uh, t-there’s one last thing…” He fumbled with his words a bit. Without saying much else he held out his hand to you and in it was a wooden ring. “I-I want you to have this. J-Just as a keepsake of sorts, i-it’s not anything official but… it would mean a lot if you kept it.” You were shocked to say the least as you took the ring from him. It was even your size. “Just promise me you’ll wear it as often as possible, even if it breaks I’ll come back and fix it right up!” You smiled and told him to take it easy. In fact you were a bit embarrassed since he beat you to it as you handed him a ring of your own.

~All Takemaru could do was stare at it with utter shock. He trembled as he stared at it, the Oni’s face turning a whole new shade of red. “Y-You serious…?” You nodded and told him he was someone who mattered to you a whole lot. You couldn’t just let him leave without telling him how you felt. Takemaru winced with that statement and before you knew it you were pulled into a tight embrace where he stroked the back of your head gently as the sun began to rise. “I love ya too. No, I love ya so much. I promise to come back to ya as often as possible. I can’t wait to start our lives together. Do you like kids? How many kids should we have? Oh, and our home is gonna need lots and lots of pets and- well, let’s take it slow for now, ‘kay?”

Moritaka

~“Hey there.” Moritaka greeted you. “Another night under the stars together…” He said as he joined you. “Sorry if this sounds sudden, but do you have any plans for the future now that we’re free?” You told him you had a few ideas and said you wouldn’t mind hearing any of his. “Well, first I intend to finish my studies in Tokyo. I see no need to rush out like the others do to be quite honest. But after that’s all done I wish to broaden my skills around the world. I want to see new things and places. Tokyo has given me so much, I can’t wait to see how much stronger I can become beyond the walls.” He explained with genuine excitement. “If I meet more people and test my skills against new foes, then I can definitely grow out of being filial…” You told him that it was an admirable goal. “Thank you.”

~“But first, I have to make sure I have all I can from here first. After all, there’s still so much in Tokyo I have yet to see and experience. But thanks to you and all our friends I’m not worried. At least, not anymore.” You told him that he helped you feel bolder after spending so much time together, and how dependable he is. “S-Stop, you’re making me flustered again… a-actually, I don’t mind this time. In fact, it’s rather nice to get a compliment such as that from you. Thank you.” Moritaka’s face went from embarrassment to a more somber one. “There is one worry I have though… I’m afraid that in my pursuit for a future, I may leave those I care about behind. I don’t want to do that… I wish you- … you all could stay by my side.” You may not be able to speak for the others, but there was one thing you knew for sure as you handed Moritaka a precious keepsake, the ring Salomon entrusted to you to give to someone you cherished.

~Moritaka was stunned. “W-Wait, me!?” He was shocked, furiously flustered and downright confused. “Surely you of all people could give this to someone else!” You told him it was your decision to make and that this was what you wanted. “I don’t understand you sometimes…” He sighed while smiling. “Thank you my fr-” Moritaka shook his head. “Thank you, my beloved. Yes, that’s right. My beloved. I never realized before but, this was probably what I wanted… I was just to afraid to say it…” You gave Moritaka a pat on the head and brushed your hand against his cheek fur. While you rubbed his cheek he brought his hand to yours as the sun began to rise. “This joy I have… did you know it all along? Or perhaps someone is watching over us… let’s see the world together, side by side. My feelings for you ever grow deeper, my beloved.”

Shino

~“You should be resting, it’s quite late.” He told you. You tried explaining you couldn’t really sleep and wanted to get some air. ��Fair enough. If you’ll excuse me I’ll get back on my patrol.” Patrol, this late? “Yes, even with our victory, peace is still relatively young. Not to mention any remnants out for your head.” While he had a point, you don’t think they’d be a problem anytime soon. “Better safe than sorry.” Well since he was going to be up now might be a good a time as any to stargaze. “What part of patrol do you not understand? Oh, never mind. Fine, I’ll indulge you a little.” He blushed as he conceited to your request. “Perhaps there won’t be any issues if I stay for a few minutes.” And you both did just that, watching the sky and feeling that night breeze brush right by.

~“When was the last time I saw the sky like this? It must’ve been… that night before…” He pondered aloud. You asked him if he’s still thinking of “her”. “Yeah… ah! Forgive me, that was rather insensitive of me… you seem all prepared for tomorrow and I’ve still got my head in the past. I know she would disapprove of such talk as well.” You didn’t mind the talk since it was something important to Shino, it wasn’t something that could be forgotten so easily. “Maybe not, but… there is one way I think it’s been made possible.” Just what would that be? “Being close to you, of course.” It must have been because of him seeing her inside of you somewhere. “No, not that. At least, not anymore. For a while she was the one I’ve been longing to see ever since that day I failed. I desired to apologize and repent for my failure. She was the one I longed to see most. If I had been reborn then surely she must’ve… But I quickly realized how fruitless of an endeavor that was to even begin with, especially now that I know who it was I’ve been searching for all this time.” Oh? “Don’t make me say it…” His ears drooped as he blushed visibly under his fur and turned away. You told him you wanted him to say it, while presenting him with a ring

~Shino stared in shock at Sal’s ring. “T-This isn’t right… I’m just a lowly beast! Why would you want to make their mistake…?” You asked him if he thought this whole thing was a mistake. “N-No I didn’t… ugh…” He smiled and finally turned to face you as the sun rose. “I did say I’d indulge you a bit. B-But please don’t make this a regular occurrence.” He took your hand with the ring in both of his and looked straight at you with a serious expression. “I promise to never fail you, no matter what may come. I wish to keep this dream going just a bit longer, maybe even the rest of our lives. I know with you… the pain in my chest truly leaves. That’s why I am swearing to you, here and now. Not as a beast or as an image of someone else, but as the one you see before you. Please accept me, my beloved.”

Jambavan

~“W-What are you doing out so late? Shouldn’t you be getting your rest?” What about him, shouldn’t he be resting too? “A-About that… It seems Leib somehow talked me into finishing all of the previous work again…” You made a snide comment about Leib’s work ethic and bad practices as Jambavan’s expense. “I-It’s really not like that. Leib has definitely been putting a lot more effort into work as of late, but I think it’s so he can spend his days of freedom slacking. Then again he constantly worries about me nowadays. I’m not quite sure how to handle that on top of the work I was already doing.” Comments aside, you asked Jambavan to rest with you a while. “Sure, I was taking a break anyway I would appreciate the company.”

~You and Jambavan admired the vast sky together and just let the moment take you away. “Even after everything, it’s hard to imagine it’s all coming to an end… It feels like only yesterday I was running around tirelessly helping my guildmates and Alice, that now that I have the freedom to truly choose what I want to do for a change that… I’m downright scared.” You asked him if he truly had no plans for the future. “N-No it’s not that… the truth is, I wish to help as many as I can. And the only way I feel I can do that is if I become a well-versed doctor. To do that, I’d need to seek study outside of Tokyo. Which means I’d have to leave everyone who’d be staying here for a while. Alice, my guildmates, you…” You told him you understood, but it was clear the decision broke your heart a little. It was all for the sake of pursuing his dreams. “There’s… something else too… since I’m leaving I’ve got no use in hiding it anymore. I… I’ve absolutely fallen for you.” Jambavan told you boldly. “Sometimes I lie awake wondering if I’m going mad thinking about you. You’ve become someone… irreplaceable to me. One that can’t just fit as a friend in my eyes, but something more. I just felt you needed to know that before I left. That’s all…” Jambavan’s words surprised you, but made you incredibly happy all the same as you now had no reservations about giving it to him.

~“A-A ring!?” Jambavan gasped with shock. “I-I hope you’re not just throwing that thing around… wait, it’s… for me?” You nodded. “You’re serious…” His eyes began to water as the sun began to rise. He couldn’t contain his emotions anymore and Jambavan reached for you and pulled you into a tight embrace. “It’s… it’s such a wonderful gift! I love you so much! I just… I hope you’ll be alright if I leave…” You told him you’ll be supporting him every step of the way. “I-In that case I… I hope you don’t mind me being a bit more bull headed from now on! Of course I’ll be supporting you too in whatever you want to do. Thank you for showing me I can stand on my own two feet for a change…”

Hati

~Hati walked onto the roof and practically ignored you as he came to stargaze. You commented on the gentle breeze and clear sky. He didn’t seem particularly interested in speaking. So you tried shifting the topic to how late he was. Even then he still remained silent, staring up at the sky. You were starting to get a little frustrated with his silence. Still nothing. Fine then, if he was going to act that way you may as well up and leave. “Wait.” He said, while now looking down at his feet. “I don’t want you to go.” Then why won’t he speak to you. He hesitated. “Because I can’t…” What did he mean by that?

~“Every night the thought of the moon drives me mad until I see it and puts me at ease. For a while, it’s all I could think to do. I thought it would work this time but… it seems as though I can’t…” Was something driving him mad. “Yes. At first I thought it was my beloved Gabriel. While he still has my heart hostage with her music and compassion, I don’t think that’s what’s driving me mad anymore.” He seemed sad. “I… I think you’re the one driving me insane…” W-What? “The way you smile, the way you’re always putting others first, the way your skin is so soft, the way you smell- the way you… well, just the way you are hasn’t been able to escape my mind! Is this a new kind of love!? I thought the moon would calm me down but you… you just have to keep being you and never letting me have a moment of sanity! Just what’s wrong with you!?” He snapped. “Why did you have to go and make me love you!?” He now turned to you. “I don’t want to hurt you… I… I’m scared…” His feelings weren’t something you could control, but maybe there was a way you could put his fears at ease… with this…

~“What are you saying!?” Hati asked with confusion. “Weren’t you listening, why do you-” You told him you had fallen for him too. In fact hearing that those thoughts drove you mad filled you with joy rather than messed you up. It was weird but… you wanted him to have you for a while but were always afraid you’d play second fiddle to his moon. “Ah… I’m… I’m sorry…” He said with a deep breath. “I love you too much to ever want anything bad to happen to you. Which is why we can’t… if Gabriel is my moon, then you are undoubtedly the sun that gives me light to my life… will you…” The sun began to rise. “Will you still have me even if I were to hurt you?” You told him that would never happen, but your feelings are the same. Instead of words, Hati pulled you into a gentle embrace and closed his eyes, finally seeming to calm down. “Thank you, I… I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t… you.”

Kurogane

~“Oh Junior, you’re still up?” Kurogane addressed you as he joined you on the roof. “I’m guessing you couldn’t get to sleep either. It’s alright, I won’t tell anyone you’re up here.” You asked what brought him up here. “Me? Well…” He turned to the sky. “I do this sometimes. Reach for the stars and space is the final frontier after all, right? To me, it feels like the end goal that gets closer each day. Plus I just like the way the stars twinkle on nights like this. With a view like this, do you blame me?” You guessed not and you both began to ponder what space was like, from zero gravity to the constantly shifting temperature. You were a little scared of it but that only seemed to spur Kurogane further into going to space and conquer your fears.

~It made you wonder what he intended to do after everything the Crafters were repairing was all done. “What I’d do? Huh… I never slowed down to think about that. I guess I’d need to enroll into a college somewhere. I could just apply somewhere here in Tokyo and leave later. Actually, as much as I want to I don’t think I can ever reach space…” But why not? “You remember how I lost my arm in an incident a long time ago? Well, what if they don’t want me heading up there because I’m technically missing an arm. It probably wouldn’t be the safest plan.” You told him that defeatist nature wasn’t his style, and his prosthetic looked just like the real deal. “Oh, I’m not giving up. Even if I can’t make it to space, I want to be a part of a team that can get people there. With that at least I think I can say my dreams have been accomplished.” Well you told him you had faith he’d make it to space no matter what. No one could stand in his way, especially if he keeps training his mind and body. “Right! Thank you, I feel even more fired up now! Is your optimism something that comes this easy? I wonder if we could find a way to channel that…” You were a bit nervous at that suggestion. “D-Don’t take it literally!” Kurogane laughed nervously. “I’m just… glad I have you is all.” You were glad too, and you wanted your senior to know that, especially with how reliable he was.

~You handed Sal’s ring to Kurogane. “This… Why?” Well, you rely on your senior. Especially now more than ever now that you both have a future to craft. “I see…” He smiled. Kurogane wrapped an arm around you as the sun began to rise. “In the end that’s what I want. I don’t ever want you to feel like there’s nothing we can’t overcome, Junior! With my ingenuity and your drive there’s nothing beyond our reach! Not even the stars!”

Daisuke

~“Oh, Bro- erm…” Daisuke stopped what he was saying as he came up to you. “I…” he cleared his throat. “I couldn’t help but notice your restless nature earlier, so I decided it might be a good idea to check on you. Then you went and disappeared…” You apologized for disappearing suddenly but you really wanted to see the stars in the sky. “Ah, yeah…” He said, realizing that the stars were out in full view tonight. “Tonight really is pretty…” You two didn’t speak for some time as you grew lost in the sight. “Staring up at these make me really worried sometimes…” Worried, how? “That one day the real stars are gonna get forgotten and left behind. Not just the ones up there, but the whole reason I became a wrestler in the first place. Will his actions be forgotten? And would I ever be able to inspire others the way he inspired me?” It sounds like he’s been wrestling with these thoughts for a while. “Yeah, I- hey wait a minute! Are you making fun of me!?” Not particularly but you couldn’t resist the joke. He just made it too easy sometimes.

~“Ugh, you’re the worst sometimes…” He laughed. “Then again, I guess that’s why we make such a great team. You help me when I’m being too dramatic and I thank you for it. Really, Brother- uh…” You asked him what was wrong since he seemed to be holding back. “Lately, I’ve been wondering if calling you my soul brother is the right thing or not. It’s not because I think you and I aren’t still like that… we are, it’s just… we’ve seen so much together and “Brother” feels out of place now… but, what is this feeling…?” You pondered it yourself and asked him to explain a bit more. “W-Well, whenever we’re close m-my chest pounds like it’s about to burst. Standing next to you gives me more confidence as myself rather than as Taurus Mask… and… I just don’t want to lose you… I can’t… I don’t understand… No, I do understand. It… It scares me…” You smiled and told him that was entirely natural as you handed him your keepsake.

~“Wait, what is this?” He asked with genuine surprise. You told him you wanted nothing more than to be his partner both on and off the ring. That standing by his side has given you new feelings too, and most of all… he was your star that gave you hope again. He was absolutely speechless. You were worried you broke him in some way until he shook it off. “No, I won’t…” He grunted. “I won’t freak out again! I need to keep on being your star after all! You need to keep looking up to me and I don’t want to lose that trust you’ve put in me. Daisuke got as close as he could to you and held your hand all the while the sun began to rise. “From now on, we’re a tag team duo! I’ll keep the solo flying to a minimum, just for you. Not just because I’m your star, but well… you’re MY star too.”

Tsathoggua

~Having his minions open the door for him, Tsathoggua stepped out. He stretched and yawned as though he had just woken up from a trademark nap. “Eh? What are you doing up so early?” You quickly spun this around and told him he was just up too late. “Not really. When you play MMO’s sometimes you just have to be ready for the long haul, so I’ve trained myself to be up as late or early as possible. But, I guess I can’t do that anymore…” He seemed downtrodden by this fact and you asked him why he looked so upset. “Hakumen says that with the walls around town gone, we’re gonna start getting more and more guests at the Casino. And with such a large number of guests coming she said she might make me start working. Can you believe it!?” Well, it wasn’t that far fetched necessarily… “Seriously, me!? Do I look like the host type to you!?” You did tell him he was still courteous to whoever visited him and that no matter what he always went out of his way for you. “W-Well… I tend to make exceptions… Guess I got no choice now, sadly. I might as well try getting in a slightly better shape… you think they make any good fitness games?” The two of you pondered video game ideas while under the gentle gaze of the stars.

~Which reminded you to ask how Tsath felt about the walls. “There’s tons of games I can get express delivered now.” He put plainly. “I’ve always wanted to try the games they have overseas, cuz while we have plenty of good ones over here there have been rumors saying the games in the west are so different. I want to play em all.” An… admirable goal if nothing else. “…Thanks…” He murmured while looking away bashfully. You noticed his distress and asked him what was wrong. He remained silent about it for a moment before finally answering with another question. “…How many co-op games do you think have been made?” The question confused you, but with so many people in Tokyo alone there had to have been a good number. “That’s… good. Maybe… we could play some of them together sometime? If you have the time for it that is…” You said his name, completely taken off guard with the question. “Aaaaaaah…” He groaned out. “No amount of Visual Novels have prepared me for this…! Not even the hardest difficulty quests made me this nervous! Are there seriously no guides for this kind of stuff!?” He cursed to himself. You were starting to get an idea and realized what he was trying to say. So as a response you handed him a precious treasure.

~“A-A ring already!?” He gasped in shock. “H-Hold on, I don’t think I’m quite the guy for that stuff so fast! And- oh? A… A promise ring?” Tsathoggua seemed to relax at your explanation. “That makes more sense, ehe… um. C-Can I… hold your hand? I… I don’t think I know how to right now…” You took Tsath’s hand in yours as the sun came up and you both finally looked up at it together. “Is this… what you call a good ending? Or maybe it’s the start of the sequel? Either way, I’m glad it’s with you.”

Someone who deserves more credit

~“W-Why are you so surprised!? Don’t give me that look!” Li Cho barked at you. “Gimme a bit a credit, will ya!?” You apologized and asked why he came up to the roof. “I-It helps me think. I didn’t think you’d be the type to be so suspicious.” He huffed and you sighed. You told him to give you some credit and offered a spot with you to stargaze. “Sure. I’ll scare that loneliness away for ya!” You played along and pretended to be afraid of the man-eating tiger scaring away people. “H-Hey!” He snapped, face blushing furiously. “I can be super scary for real! Don’t joke about those things…” He seemed more embarrassed than angry so you agreed to keep the teasing to a minimum. “Thanks. Actually, now that I have an audience what say I serenade you with some of my lovely words, hmm~?” You responded dryly by saying just reading them would be enough. “Heh, is my musical talent too much for you to handle then?” What musical talent? “That’s just cold!” After getting all the snarky remarks out of each others system, he did read you poetry that he wrote himself and with the atmosphere you couldn’t help but be swept away by the imagery.

~Once he had finished indulging himself by showing off his poetry, he took a deep breath. “S-So, it was awesome… right?” You told him it was very good. “Just good, eh?” He chuckled. “Y’know, I did write all these before the walls around us came crumblin’ down. So maybe that’s why they don’t sound as good? But, that’s just me making up excuses and not fixing the damn things…” You told him there was no rush now that you all weren’t operating on a time crunch anymore. “S-Sure, but I still gotta take care of student council work alongside my studies. So it’s definitely gonna be hard to find the time right now.” You reassured him that you’d both be able to make it work. “Heh, I guess.” It then hit him. “Wait, us?” That’s when you dropped the facade and handed him the ring.

~“Y-You’re just messin’ with me right? P-Please say you’re just playin’ around!” He seemed panicked. “There’s no way I can do this!” You asked if this wasn’t what he wanted. “O-Of course I want it!” Li Cho replied. “There’s just… no way you’d ever want a beast like me…” His tough guy act seemed to crack just a bit. “There’s no telling when I’m prone to snap or lose myself completely. I… I don’t want to hurt you if that happens…” Then what was stopping him from not doing it? “Eh?” He was still him under all that fur. No amount of appearances could change what was inside. “Inside, huh?” He pondered this for a moment. “I get it… Fine then.” Li Cho pulled you close to him and nuzzled your neck as the morning light came to view. You told him that Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, but bears it out even to the edge of doom. “Heh… since when did ya become such a poetry buff…? Did you really memorize that just for me? Maybe… Maybe I won’t lose myself if I have you there… I want to rewrite our lives.”

HorkeuKamui

~“My Hero, you’ve done it.” Kamui praised you as he quickly joined you on the roof. “Not only have you completed your own goals of saving all your friends, you’ve also torn down all the walls between the people and have found a way for so many to connect.” You said while that was true there was still a lot you wouldn’t know. Would the rest of the world be so accepting of everyone from Tokyo? Besides, it was only thanks to everyone working together that you accomplished these things. “Very true, indeed. However, you are the individual responsible for bringing such individuals together. That alone is worthy of some praise. I’m proud to have you as my Hero.” You asked him to dial back the praise since you were starting to get flustered. “My apologies. It’s just… you’ve done what many others considered to be impossible. That alone has my admiration and joy.” You thanked him again but still couldn’t shake your flustered emotions. As a way to relax Kamui agreed to watch the stars with you, which was certainly relaxing.

~After a while, Kamui seemed lost in thoughts. His look went from glad to pensive. You took notice and asked him what was wrong. “While I am glad that we have reached such a point in time, I can’t help but feel a little… lost.” He admitted. “With so many content, is there even a reason to call you my Hero now? Is there a purpose for a Hero’s sheath if there is no longer any Hero? If not, then where does one such as myself go? I’ve dedicated my whole existence to raising a Hero properly that I have not realized if I had succeeded… what’s left? Can I even continue, knowing that my own selfish pursuit ended so many lives?” You were afraid that you didn’t have all those answers for him. Those were things he’d need to solve on his own. “I’m well aware. But still, I feel fulfilled all the same. I have you to thank for finally satiating my insatiable drive…” While you didn’t have many answers for Kamui, you did have one important question to ask. You handed him something that helped you through the darker times and asked if he’d be willing to stay by your side. As more than a sheath… as HorkeuKamui, the wolf that snatched your heart.

~“Your heart…” Kamui paused for a moment. He smiled realizing what the situation meant. “I see… yes, your heart. With you… I am willing to make such an important oath. Not only will I treasure your heart…” The wolf pulled you into a gentle embrace and gently stroked your hair as the sun began to rise, signifying the start of something wonderful. “I will safeguard it with my life. Not only that, but I also wish to entrust you with my own. After all, I have nothing but boundless love for you… My Dear.”

Wakan Tanka

~“There you are, my friend.” Wakan Tanka greeted you with relief. You returned his greeting and asked if he had been searching for you. “Yes, actually. I couldn’t help but notice how restless you’ve been as of late so I wanted to make sure you were alright. I’m glad that you’re okay, guess my worry was just overreacting.” You thanked him for his concern. “Yes, but… it’s weird. Why was I so upset in the first place? Maybe I just wanted to look at the sky again…” You asked him if the stars at night helped him relax. “At first, they made me sad… but now, I don’t have a reason to be sad anymore. Would you mind if I saw them with you again?” You told him you’d love that and both watched the stars, reminiscent of that time on the beach…

~“So… this is the end of the road for the game in Tokyo… or rather, it’s the start of a new path for everyone to take…” He pondered aloud. “Seeing everyone talking about the future with such hope makes me happy. Really happy, even. Is it even allowed to be this happy for your friends?” You told him you saw nothing wrong with such joy. “I would agree, but… I can’t help but feel sad… knowing that everyone’s ready to move on and leave behind the place that brought us together in the first place. Would they remember all of the good times we had, or just the bad ones?” There wasn’t a guarantee that all the memories would be happy, but you can give him comfort by offering the idea that the happy ones would win out. “I think you’re right.” He seemed a bit sullen still. “For a long while, I would remember the sky in my world. I always thought it was beautiful and made everyone glad they saw it. All but them. They would stare at the sky with such sadness in their eyes, and I couldn’t help but feel sad too… but, looking at the sky now. Maybe it wasn’t sadness… maybe it was their own happiness that made them cry?” There was no way to know for sure now. “Yeah. That person is no longer with us. Instead I have someone who brings me both immense joy and sorrow.” Really, who? “You, of course.” He put bluntly. You were shocked by Wakan’s bold claim. “You make me feel more things I would never have hoped to dream. I don’t understand all these feelings you give me… One moment I’m sad about you, but then you go and make me extremely happy. Then all I can think about is being next to you and… I just turn into a mess of feelings!” You just told him that’s how love works as you handed him a sign of your love.

~“Love…” Wakan asked. “Is that really all there is? A word so simple could have such a chaotic feeling?” You nodded. “…Hey, can I see your hand for a moment?” You gave him your hand as he clasped it with both of his, with him now wearing the ring you gave him and his warm smile making the rising sun shine that much brighter. “I promise from now on that neither road we walk will be lonely. I promise to share this burden and blessing of life that we live. And I also promise… to show you just what my love is capable of doing. I promise to you that it can open a path where we can both be equals, side by side in the same direction. Only… if you’ll let me walk beside you til we pass on to the next…”

If not, then who?

~Weirdly, no one came through the door. You could have sworn you heard something. “Geez Master, do none of your friends really care about us!?” You jumped in surprise as Salomon now stood beside you. You quickly asked what he was doing here. “Master, how come you’re always so mean to me!?” You didn’t mean it like that! You thought that he might’ve… “I told you I’d always be with you! I don’t wanna leave you, Master!” Salomon cried. “I was scared… but, it was almost like taking a nap… I think? I dunno any more than you do! I just… I’m happy to be able to see you again.” You shared in that sentiment and wondered when the last time you two had spent a night together like this. “Too long!”

~“But seriously, does no one care about you this late?” You told him that wasn’t it. “Oh? Ooh, Master. You sly fox. Perhaps you’ve strung together one too many hearts instead of no one at all?” You couldn’t deny the number of people captivated by you, but you were positive there was more to it. “Sure, sure. Though you try to keep cool, deep down I know how passionate you truly are. I always knew one wouldn’t be enough. You’re just too wild.” You asked him to stop or someone might hear. “Heh, I know…” He gave you a cheeky grin. “You just make the cutest expressions sometimes, Master. I couldn’t help but tease you a little~.” Despite all the teasing, you did miss him. You felt it was an appropriate time to give that back…

~“Oh, this?” He pondered. “It… It’s worthless to either of us honestly. I let you keep it as a way to remember me. But now that I’m here it almost seems wasted…” Not entirely. You could use it to make an everlasting vow to trust in Sal more from now on. And… and to promise to keep him close. You don’t want him going anywhere without you from now on. “Oh Master…” The sun began to rise as Sal brought his head to rest on his arm and smiled at you mid air. “Sometimes you take even me by surprise. Still, that’s what I like so much about you. All that there is to do is ask: Where to next?”

~~~

So yes, as of this moment onward I can finally feel confident releasing projects involving Li Cho. I know not everyone will like it and it hasn’t felt that long since i made that post saying i wouldn’t. But I feel I’d be doing a disservice to Housamo’s main message if I kept that sort of content ban up for any longer. Thank you all for being so patient with my while I made this and worked up the courage to finally post Li Cho content.

214 notes · View notes