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solarmorrigan · 3 months

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Hands Where I Can See Them, part 7

[Warning for references to sexual situations towards the end, but there is nothing explicit]

“So now do I get to know where we’re going?”

“What part of ‘it’s a surprise’ are you having trouble grasping?”

“The part where we’re driving around in the suburbs in your van on a Saturday night,” Steve shoots a pointed look at Eddie, not without amusement. “I feel like we’re going to end up at some high school party drinking rocket fuel out of Solo cups while you deal out of one of the back bedrooms.”

“Shit, yeah, let’s relive those glory days,” Eddie says drily, then smacks the steering wheel with one palm in emphasis. “No! I am taking you somewhere much better. And we’re almost there, so stop trying to interrogate me. We both know I crack like an egg under pressure.”

Steve holds both his hands up in front of him, brows raised, the very picture of innocence, as though he hasn’t been trying to pump Eddie for information since he picked him up at his house some fifteen minutes ago.

And Eddie really does want it to be a surprise – he thinks he did pretty well, planning this whole thing out. The effort, at first, had simply been placed on coming up with something he’d thought Steve would like—something surprising and romantic and thoughtful—but the further he’d gotten into it, the more he’d found himself enjoying it, too. He’s never actually been on a proper date, much less planned one, and finding all the little touches that would make this one perfect has actually been fun. Eddie’s looking forward to it.

He only hopes his work will pay off.

He navigates the van around one more turn, past a few more unremarkable cookie cutter houses, and pulls to a stop in front of the barrier rail of a dead-end street, entirely ignoring the raised-eyebrow look of intense curiosity that Steve is sending his way.

The thing about Midwestern suburbia is that it sprawls. There are rambling neighborhoods upon rambling neighborhoods, all with kitschy names like “Maple Ridge” and “Eagle Pointe,” and the city planners seem to forget half of what they’ve built as soon as it’s up. Apart from making things confusing to navigate (Oakview Street runs through three different residential areas, for instance, stopping and picking up again at different points throughout town), it’s created isolated pockets of parks and playgrounds, set aside behind back streets and largely unknown to anyone more than a block away – unless they happen to be restless explorers, like Eddie.

“So… are we gonna hang out here tonight?” Steve asks, glancing around at the neighborhood falling into the darkness of the rapidly encroaching dusk.

“Yes, Steve, we’re gonna have a picnic in my van on the back end of Washington Drive,” Eddie drawls.

“You’re the one who wouldn’t tell me where we were going.” Steve shrugs, smirking over at Eddie. “I figured maybe you were embarrassed.”

Eddie rolls his eyes and pushes his door open. “C’mon, Harrington, we’re almost there.”

“That’s what you said last time,” Steve says, though he obediently gets out of the van and rounds to the back, where Eddie is digging for his supplies.

“Well, now it’s an even smaller almost,” Eddie says.

He pulls his backpack from the back of the van, followed by an insulated bag he’d bummed off of Oliver and the tiny cooler that Wayne takes with him when he goes fishing, draping it all over himself like an awkward sort of packmule and waving Steve off when he tries—twice—to reach for one of the bags to help.

“Okay, fine,” Steve finally says, shaking his head. “Lead the way, Mr. Park Ranger.”

“Thank you,” Eddie sniffs, gesturing for Steve to follow him off the street and onto a narrow dirt path that cuts through the thin strip of woods in front of them.

It’s barely a minute’s walk before the path spits them out into a tiny clearing housing a minuscule park. Eddie disregards the neglected jungle gym and the decrepit grill and zeroes in on the reason he’d brought them out here: the gazebo.

“So I’m gonna need just a little more faith from you,” he tells Steve, “and you need to turn around for about a minute.”

The expression on Steve’s face is a familiar one, recognizable even in the fading light as “deciding whether or not to make the bitchy comment,” but finally he simply shrugs and turns around.

“Sure, why not,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest.

Eddie shakes his head, biting down on a smile as he bounds up the two steps into the little gazebo and sets his load down. The thing is in surprisingly good condition, all told; the structure is solid, the picnic table inside is relatively clean, and there is a minimal number of dicks and swearwords graffitied around the inside (barely noticeable in the dark, even!). Glancing back to make sure Steve is still facing away, Eddie makes quick work of unpacking his bags.

The candles come out first, a whole slew of the inexpensive white ones that come in jars, picked up from the dollar store, and he dots them around the gazebo railings and across the picnic table, lighting them with the cigarette lighter from his pocket until the space is warm and glowing. The insulated bag is next, providing two foil-wrapped plates of spaghetti that is—thank you, Oliver—still warm. Last is the cooler, which provides two beers. He’s just pulling napkins and forks from his backpack when he hears Steve calling out from where he’s left him standing.

“I’m pretty sure it’s been more than a minute.”

“You’re so impatient,” Eddie shoots back, taking the steps at a leap and jogging back across the grass to Steve. “But I’m done, anyway, so you can turn around.”

Steve does so, his focus going first to Eddie, before his attention is caught by the glow of the gazebo behind him. Eddie can see his eyes go wide in the candlelight, startled first, and then pleased, accompanied by a slow-growing smile.

“Eddie, this is…” he leaves off with a tiny laugh, like he doesn’t quite have a word for it, but whatever he thinks it is, it’s good.

Eddie shrugs. “I know we can’t exactly go out to a restaurant and have a real date, but I promised you candlelight,” he says. “I’m afraid the violinist was booked, though.”

Shaking his head, Steve lets out another little laugh, and then takes a step towards the gazebo and glances back at Eddie.

“C’mon, yeah, let’s eat. Can’t have everything getting cold!” Eddie gestures Steve up the steps and waves his arm grandly towards one of the plates. “I’d pull your chair out for you, but it appears to be attached to the table.”

“I think I’ll manage,” Steve says, swinging one leg over the bench, then the other, and settling himself down. He waits for Eddie to follow suit before picking up his fork and then – just staring down at his plate for a moment. “Is this…” he starts uncertainly.

“It’s the spaghetti sauce you showed me how to make,” Eddie fills in. “Since you were convinced I’d perish trying to subsist on frozen pizza if you weren’t there to force meals on me.”

Eddie hadn’t done much cooking prior to befriending Steve; he could boil water and scramble an egg, but his ability and interest had mostly ended there. Then Steve had come along, earnestly (and transparently) bringing “leftovers” to the trailer to share with Eddie and Wayne, before he progressively took over their kitchen. Absolutely no one had had any complaints about this arrangement, though Steve had insisted on teaching Eddie how to make a few basic staples for himself – among which had been spaghetti sauce.

For a long moment, Steve says nothing, continuing to stare at his plate, brows furrowed.

“…and I haven’t,” Eddie says, trying to break the silence. “Perished, that is. In your absence. Obviously. Not that– not that I think you were really worrying about that, I just mean I’ve been making some of the stuff you showed me. Is all.”

“I’m just… kind of surprised you remembered, I guess,” Steve says, glancing up at Eddie, expression unreadable in the flickering light around them. “I wasn’t sure if you were actually interested or if you were just humoring me, when I showed you all that stuff.”

“I still have all the recipes you have me,” Eddie says – and he does: a small stack of notecards that Steve had stolen from Robin and covered in his surprisingly neat handwriting, detailing things like when to add butter to this and how much garlic to add to that, which has a permanent home in a drawer in Eddie’s kitchen.

“Oh,” Steve says, and nothing more.

“But don’t leave me in suspense, tell me how I did,” Eddie insists, attempting to push past the awkwardness he’d brought upon them while simultaneously shoving his mouth full of pasta in order to keep from pulling out any new touchy topics.

Steve twirls up a forkful of spaghetti and brings it to his mouth, spending a long moment chewing thoughtfully.

“Well?” Eddie asks.

Steve nods and swallows. “I mean, I’ve had better,” he says with a shrug, and Eddie experiences a moment of genuine distress before he spots the smirk tugging at Steve’s lips.

Eddie kicks at him under the table and Steve laughs, and Eddie can’t help but join him.

“Don’t be shy, baby, tell me how you really feel,” Eddie drawls, and Steve snickers again.

“Trust me, I will,” he says. But then: “It’s good, Eddie. You did good.”

Knocked off balance by the casual sincerity, Eddie goes quiet, and they eat for a few minutes in silence.

“So,” Eddie finally says, “I’m sure this is a great shock to you, but I’ve never actually done this before.”

Steve glances up at him. “Eaten spaghetti in a gazebo?” he asks, so dry that even Eddie’s not quite sure if he’s being sarcastic.

“The dating thing,” Eddie clarifies, instead of trying to figure it out. “What exactly are you supposed to do on a first date?”

Something about Steve’s expression goes off again – that same, weird, false look he’d had the other day that Eddie hadn’t been able to ferret out the source of. He’s about to ask what’s wrong when Steve shrugs, taking a quick pull from his beer.

“I guess it’s usually the getting-to-know-you stuff. Favorite movie, what kind of music you listen to, hobbies – that sort of thing,” he says.

“Huh.” Eddie screws his mouth to the side, thinking it over. “Seems… kinda boring. But, if you insist!” He leans forward on the table, resting his chin in his hands and batting his eyelashes at Steve. “So, tell me about yourself, handsome.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “It’s not like that’s what you have to do. I’m pretty sure dates are just supposed to be… you know, being with someone you like. Putting aside time just to do something with them,” he says. “Doesn’t matter what it is, you have a good time because you’re doing it together.”

“Oh,” Eddie says quietly, his humor fading beneath a bright flare of fondness. “That– that sounds better, yeah.”

“I think so, too,” Steve says, smiling across the table at Eddie.

“Well, then.” Eddie takes a chance and slowly slides his hand forwards until it’s resting over Steve’s on top of the table, inwardly doing a little dance when Steve remains relaxed beneath his touch. “Under those parameters, do you think we’re having a successful first date?”

And that’s when Steve pulls back, drawing his hand from beneath Eddie’s and averting his gaze, shrugging shoulders that have gone tense. “Sure, yeah.” He glances back up and offers a smile that’s trying very hard to be sincere but is underscored by something Eddie still can’t put his finger on. “Seriously, this is really nice, Eddie.”

“What am I saying?” Eddie asks.

“What?” Steve’s brows draw together in confusion.

“I keep saying something that’s upsetting you and I can’t– like, I can’t figure out what it is,” Eddie admits. “But I don’t want to keep doing it.”

“I’m not upset,” Steve says, bristling slightly under the skeptical look Eddie sends him. “I’m not. I’m– it’s stupid, alright? I’m fine.”

“It’s not stupid,” Eddie says, and Steve scoffs.

“You don’t even know what it is.”

“Well then tell me.”

Frowning, Steve looks back down at his plate, pushing the last few strands of spaghetti around with his fork. “It’s – seriously, it’s dumb. Like, I know that, alright? It’s just that you keep calling this our first date and I guess… I thought of something else as our first date. That’s all.”

Oh, fuck.

Eddie is an idiot. Fuck.

Of course Steve thinks of something else as their first date. He’d thought they were dating, so of course he’d thought of their outings as dates. Dinners, the movies, aimless walks around town – time set aside to be with someone you like, to just do something together. And here Eddie is again, shoving how little he’d thought of those times in Steve’s face.

“Shit, Steve, I’m sorry,” Eddie says quickly, and Steve shakes his head.

“It’s fine, I told you, I know it’s ridiculous–”

“It’s not.”

“–and I don’t have to get all hung up over it. It wasn’t even a date if we didn’t both think of it that way, right? So we can just look at this as– like, take two.”

Eddie purses his lips. “Even if we didn’t both think of it as a date, it was important to you.”

Steve shrugs and then, steady and deliberate, puts his hand over Eddie’s, curling his fingers around Eddie’s palm. “Well, tonight can be important to both of us,” he says, offering Eddie a small smile. “And I don’t want to ruin it. I really am having a good time.”

The only reason Eddie can imagine that he would be even remotely this lucky is if the universe is trying to make up for the debacle that was last spring (but then again, seen in the reverse, he can’t imagine why the universe would be inflicting him on Steve; he’ll have to keep thinking on that one). And on the one hand, he’s determined not to waste this opportunity – neither Steve’s good will nor his second chance. But on the other hand–

He can’t not ask.

Shifting his hand a little so he can wrap his fingers around Steve’s, Eddie takes a breath and bites the bullet. “Okay, but what… were you thinking of as our first date?”

For a long minute, Steve says nothing, and Eddie tries not to panic, tries not to assume that he’s just ruined everything by admitting he doesn’t even know which instance Steve is talking about, and mostly fails. But then Steve takes a breath and shakes his head.

“It’s… kinda stu–”

“Don’t say it,” Eddie cuts in sharply, warning, before he can stop himself. “I’m sure it’s not. Tell me about it.”

Steve shoots Eddie a chagrined kind of smile before turning his eyes to the surface of the table. “It was at the diner,” he says, and Eddie only just holds himself back from asking which time, because they’ve gone to the tiny diner off the side of the road near Forest Hills together more times than he can count; it’s within walking distance of Eddie’s place, and it tends to be their go-to when they want to go out but have no particular destination in mind. “It was that first night. The first time we kissed.”

It hits Eddie like a jab to the sternum that Steve chooses to phrase it that way: the first time they kissed. Because if Eddie remembers one thing for certain, it’s that the first night they kissed had also been the first night they’d had sex – and yet it’s the kiss that Steve focuses on. It’s the kiss that had been important to him.

“I guess there wasn’t anything that special about that night. Nothing different. We just had fun,” Steve says quietly. “Pretty sure we drove everyone else crazy fighting over the jukebox, especially since most of the songs in there suck, anyway, and you were telling me about what happened during your last game and you tried to draw it on a napkin with ketchup and a toothpick, which… did not turn out well, and you kept stealing fries off my plate–”

“Because you kept dipping them in your milkshake and I was telling you that it was gross!” Eddie remembers.

“Of course, that part stands out to you,” Steve grouses, though there’s a bit of a smile tugging at one corner of his mouth.

“Hey, you made a believer out of me. Fries and vanilla shake, I have to admit it’s good,” Eddie says, and Steve’s smile grows a little more.

“But, yeah, like I said, it wasn’t… special, I guess, I just remember thinking that I wanted to do that with you all the time. I wanted to do everything with you all the time, whatever it was,” Steve says. “And then when we were back in your room, sitting on your bed, you were looking at me like– I thought you wanted to–”

“I did,” Eddie says quickly. “I wanted to kiss you. I wanted you to kiss me. I don’t know, I was – kinda turned around about it, but I knew I was glad that you did it first, because I was too chickenshit to ever do it myself.”

Eddie remembers this part clearly; something had seemed different about Steve when they’d gotten back from the diner. There had been something softer and lighter about him that had made Eddie want to reach out and touch – an urge he wasn’t unfamiliar with. He is, after all, queer as hell, and—though he feels like an ass for phrasing it this way, now—Steve is really hot. Of course he’d had thoughts about Steve before; he just tended to ignore them, because they were friends, and the thought that anything more could happen between them seemed outlandish.

But then Steve had leaned in and kissed him.

The first one had been close-mouthed and soft, almost tentative, sweet, but ensuing kisses had been deeper, more wanton, and before Eddie had quite registered the shift, Steve was in his lap and his tongue was practically down Steve’s throat and he’d thought – well, maybe there could be a little more between them. Maybe things didn’t have to change all that much.

He'd rolled with it, and then he’d rolled them over, and then he’d helped Steve get rid of his shirt and he’d ditched his own, and then he’d begun the process of learning how to wring as many sweet, pleasured noises as possible out of Steve.

Now, back at the picnic table in the fluttering light of nearly a dozen cheap candles, Steve is looking at Eddie oddly, like he’s not quite sure what to make of him.

“Well… since I had kind of been looking at that night as when we, uh– got together, I just – yeah, made sense to me. First date.” Steve shrugs.

A frown pulls across Eddie’s face, and he fights to keep it at bay, so he doesn’t give Steve the wrong impression – he’s not upset with Steve, he’s just upset. He’s upset that he can’t look at that night the same way Steve had – that he hadn’t experienced it the same way. He wishes he had; that he’d let himself consider what it might be like not if he and Steve could be friends and have sex, but if he and Steve could be more than that.

He squeezes Steve’s fingers, still wrapped in his own, and catches Steve’s eye when he looks up. “You know… I mean, I know that not all of the time we spent together has the same significance for me that it did for you, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t important to me,” Eddie says, and maybe it’s all he can say for himself, but at least it’s true. “I love spending time with you. Even when I’m complaining, I’m doing it with joy.”

Steve cocks an eyebrow at him. “With joy?”

“Yep. Entirely joyful complaining,” Eddie says seriously.

“Well, you do like complaining.” Steve smirks.

“I sure the fuck do. It’s what makes us such a good pair,” Eddie replies, and Steve laughs.

They talk for a while longer after that, lighter and easier than before, but eventually it gets too chilly to reasonably keep sitting around. They’d been blessed with unusually mild weather that night, but late October is still late October, and the temperature has dropped since the sun’s gone down.

They work together to blow out all the candles before they end up dropping them in a nearby garbage can once they realize that the wax is still liquid and Eddie can’t put them back in his bag (“Okay, I thought of almost everything,” Eddie insists as he produces a flashlight to light their way back to the van). Eddie turns up the heat before pulling back out into the road, and they take the drive back to Steve’s house in contented silence.

Eddie parks and turns the van off once they’re in the driveway, and Steve watches with curiosity as Eddie gets out with him, but says nothing as they walk up to the front door together.

“Well,” Eddie says once they reach the porch, “I had a great time tonight. D’you think I can see you again?”

Steve blinks at him, doing almost a doubletake as he looks from Eddie to his door and then back again.

“Do you– You don’t want to come in?” Steve asks, a little bewildered.

“Oh, no, I very much do,” Eddie assures him. “But this is take two, right? And I said I was gonna do it right, and that means no sex until the third date. At least I’m pretty sure that’s the rule.”

Steve laughs, but quickly quiets when all Eddie does is smile at him. “You’re serious,” he says, a bit flat with disbelief.

“Completely.” Eddie nods. “I’m romancing you, remember?”

There’s another moment of quiet stillness from Steve before a slow, delighted grin begins to grow on his face. “Well, in that case…” he says, “I had a great time, too.” He leans in and pecks a quick kiss to Eddie’s lips, short and almost shy. “Call me.”

And then he’s gone, the front door closing behind him before Eddie can even register what’s happened.

Eddie barely even remembers getting back into the van, but if he had to guess, he’d say he probably floated there.

It should be ridiculous – he’s had Steve’s mouth on pretty much every part of him, he’s had Steve on top of him and underneath him and crying out his name and begging him for more, he’s had Steve naked and sated and curled around him, and yet it’s one short kiss that nearly short-circuits him.

It should be ridiculous, but Eddie thinks it might actually be the best thing in the world.

Part 8

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#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #eddiesteve #consistent chapter length? never heard of her #anyway have some date fluff. we've got... a little more stuff coming up #solar wrote

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zhongrin · 1 year

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newton’s second law of motion

◇ characters ◇ al haitham (ft. kaveh, cyno, tighnari)

◇ tags ◇ divorced dad al haitham as your ex-hubby, possibly ooc al haitham (?), you have a daughter, al haitham pines on you badly, angst to fluff, crack, kaveh-cyno-tighnari support group ftw, brainrot format with a little fic

◇ a/n ◇ happy birthday you dolt (/aff). i didn't plan to post any birthday fic for him but this thought hit me as soon as i read that silly bday letter. this was supposed to be just a brainrot help-

𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

divorced husband!al haitham who is hit by a revelation over the year he lived separated from you - that he had taken you for granted and he had driven you away by failing to communicate and appreciate you properly.

divorced husband!al haitham who receives a little package from you on his birthday; just a small, store-bought birthday cake. he's reminded of the biting words he said the year before, when he tasted the cake you made with your daughter. in hindsight, it was perfectly normal for a three-year-old to mistake salt for sugar. in hindsight, he should have known to hold his tongue. in hindsight, he could have done better than just stare as your daughter cried in your arms.

divorced husband!al haitham who knows that you were just being nice with all these small gestures. for updating him about how your daughter is doing in school every month. it was all a formality of sorts and it was an agreement you had when you broke your marriage. but he can't help the hope that sparked within his chest when he sees your handwriting and hears your voice on the rare meet-ups you organize.

divorced husband!al haitham who admits that you deserve someone better. who resolves to be someone better.

divorced husband!al haitham who picks up that parenting book he abandoned and buys new ones because four-year-olds are different from newborn babies. people stare at him in awe when he starts attending the parenting-themed seminars, and it's like he's back in his akademiya days, taking notes and analyzing research journals.

divorced husband!al haitham who, to his previous roommate's surprise, lets himself be dragged into the 'severely unproductive' weekly tcg game meeting. he silently sits and listens to cyno unconsciously bragging about the warm home he built with his spouse, tighnari proudly retelling story after story about collei taking the lead of the forest rangers, and kaveh gushing about the love of his life.

divorced husband!al haitham who, to everyone's shock, asks for their advice on how to rebuild what he's lost, who for once listens to kaveh as he guides him to emphatize more and shows him the values of white lies when used properly, as inefficient as he though it was. soon enough it turns into a full-on lecture at one corner of lambad's tavern - tighnari had brought out a whiteboard out of nowhere, and even cyno who was at first skeptical about giving him a second chance was animatedly giving his own two mora to avoid worsening the disaster that is the scribe's love life.

divorced husband!al haitham who picks up a new pen and delicately writes a letter with the ink of your favorite color, intending to ask you to meet at the library because he wanted to "further encourage our daughter's newly-found interest in reading". he's hoping it would show his sincerity (yes, he did listen when you absentmindedly told him about your daughter on the last update meeting) and imply that he wishes to make amends (because he remembers not taking much interest in the more 'trivial' things that concerns your daughter when he should have).

divorced husband!al haitham who does not understand why you didn't reply to him, and so he proceeds to recite the letter, word-by-word, to the curious table of the same friends from a week ago, their tcg match long forgotten. kaveh throws a deck of cards at him. cyno slumps back to his chair with a steely expression, arms crossed. tighnari sighs and bemoans about how al haitham is the worst student he's ever had thus far. kaveh rubs his face with his palms - "alright. okay. alright. look. clearly one lecture isn't enough. we could just. we could try again. hey, at least he tried!"

divorced husband!al haitham who wakes up the morning after because of his doorbell, with barely two hours of sleep, coffee-less (you used to make him coffee and he does not understand what he's missing because he could never make them taste the same), grumpy (he remembers the way you would laugh and boop his nose whenever he feels like this), darkened eye bags under his hazy green eyes (which you used to try and will away with a kiss; it never worked but he wishes you were there to do it still), opening the door of his abode (the house feels far too big without you) and promptly almost collapsing from shock at the sight.

it's you.

divorced husband!al haitham who fumbles with his words; his brain isn't working properly and his composure is nowhere in sight. you're holding your daughter's hand and you're looking at him from head to toe with a frown. he asks why you were here. you tell him icily that it was your scheduled date for the usual monthly update; you thought he would have appreciated you bringing your daughter this time. his brain stops. his heart swells. his chest feels warm.

divorced husband!al haitham who invites you in and blushes when you see the remnants of last night's "lectures". kaveh's silly flowchart ('when you should shut your mouth') is still present on the whiteboard. tighnari's books about child development created little towers around the coffee table. cyno's headpiece is still lying on the sofa. and his own copious notes are all over the place.

"what kind of.... project.... are you working on, exactly?"

his brain's broca's area must have been terribly damaged from all the 'scenario exercises' kaveh put him through last night, because what was supposed to be a 'pay no mind to it, it's merely a personal interest of mine' somehow turned into a sheepishly spoken: "i wanted to become a better partner and father."

and you must have thought he was crazy, too, with that look of utter shock on your face. al haitham decides to change the subject. he sees the way your daughter is eyeing the pantry - more specifically, the cabinet that used to store her snacks, and maybe it's all the books and seminars he attended but somehow he understands.

"have you... had breakfast?"

"..... no," your tone is cold and you avert your eyes. the implication is not lost on him. you had not planned to stay for long.

"i see. would you like to procure-" he pauses, gazes towards your daughter, remembering what he read - and he drops to his knees so he can be of a similar eye level with the young child. when he speaks next his tone is higher, softer, and you almost can't believe what you're witnessing, "-would you and mommy like to get some food with daddy?"

"..... yes."

his little angel's voice is barely above a whisper and slightly unsure, but it still makes a genuine smile spread onto his lips for the first time in...... what seemed like forever. he directs his gaze up towards you, like some kind of a lost puppy seeking permission from its owner. you throw one last glance at his notes and sigh before nodding stiffly.

"alright.... you look like you badly need coffee anyway."

divorced husband!al haitham who, despite the tiredness in his bones, readily escorts the two of you out of the house after quickly scribbling a note for the three guests sleeping on a pile in the guest room.

divorced husband!al haitham who asks his daughter about where she'd like to eat and agrees immediately upon her answer despite knowing that their destination would only serve that trashy coffee he loathes with his whole life (and when you ask him again whether he's really okay with her choice, he says yes even though he wanted to say no).

divorced husband!al haitham who asks you about the latest updates on your job and tells you that he thinks it's admirable, for you to balance caring for their child while also having such a stable career (you did not express the need to be getting constructive criticism on how to further improve your career and branch out your skills, so he decides to keep his mouth shut).

divorced husband!al haitham who stumbles, trips, and is still horribly clumsy as he paves a path back to walk beside you and your daughter. but he tries. and he hopes to spend his next birthday with you, your daughter, a kitchen that looked like an oven has exploded, and a deformed cake.

and as the front door closes, the three guests high-fives each other in a small circle from behind the slightly opened door of the guest room.

#astronetwrk #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #rin writes #al haitham #al haitham x reader

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ludibriadormonoteista · 4 months

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*Jaune is seen playing on a laptop alone in his dorm room*

Jaune: Oh, c’mon, Neptune! That was an 80% shot you just missed!

*Pyrrha suddenly enters the room after finishing her morning workout*

Pyrrha: Hello, Jaune. Were you talking to Neptune just now?

Jaune: Oh, not really. I wasn’t actually talking to him. It’s just a game I’m playing.

Pyrrha: A game? Which one is it this time?

Jaune: You’re gonna love this one. The name is Xcom 2. It’s a turn-based strategy game where you play as the Commander of an entire resistance group against an Alien coalition that has taken over the planet.

Pyrrha: Sounds… Really cool? *Not really into games*

Jaune: You can check it out if you want.

*Pyrrha shrugs, climbing onto the bed next to her leader. At that moment, Jaune selects one of his units, a female soldier with a minigun, and fires a barrage against an enemy trooper*

Jaune: Pretty awesome, huh?

Pyrrha: Yeah, pretty… Wait, that soldier with the beret and sunglasses looks familiar.

Jaune: Oh yeah, that’s Coco. I made her into the game.

Pyrrha: You made her?

Jaune: The game comes with a character pool in which you can create your own custom soldiers. It’s a very nifty feature.

Pyrrha: I see… How much time did you spend on that, exactly?

Jaune: A whole awful lot. I’ll show you in just a sec.

*A mission and a result screen later, Jaune gives Pyrrha a tour of his base*

Jaune: So this is the Avenger. A stolen alien ship and the perfect hiding spot for our base. And these *Click* are my soldiers!

*Pyrrha’s eyes widen as she sees the names of each character Jaune has made*

Pyrrha: Awnn~ These are all of our friends! Jaune, this is so cute!

Jaune: Heheh yeah, I mean... *Clears throat* Like I said, pretty cool. They all have different classes and specialties too. Like Nora here. *Click* She’s a heavy-gunner just like Coco, but she’s mainly built for demolitions. In short, she has a lot of grenades.

Jaune: I also assigned Ren and Ruby as Sharpshooters. Only difference being that Ruby is the dedicated long-ranged sniper while Ren is the gunslinger.

Jaune: Blake on the other hand is a Ranger solely built for stealth, making her perfect for scouting ahead and striking when the aliens least expect.

Jaune: As for Weiss, I gave her the role of Specialist. She ensures all of our soldiers are alive on the field while providing technical support with some objectives.

Pyrrha: Awn, she even has a cute drone following her. As does Yang…?

Jaune: Yeah, I sorta forgot to assign Yang a specific class, so the game randomly promoted her into a Specialist too. She technically has the same role as Weiss, but I mostly use her to shock enemies. Also, overwatch spam. Those are pretty powerful.

Pyrrha: *Snorts* As long as it stays true to her character.

Jaune: OH! Before I forget. *Click* Say hi to you!

*Pyrrha watched mesmerized at the screen as Jaune showed her a seamlessly flawless recreation of her in-game. From her hairstyle, to her armor, even the exact same tiara*

Pyrrha: Wow… How did you…

Jaune: I stumbled upon a Pyrrha Nikos character pack not long ago. You’d be surprise what the modding community can cook up from time to time. Though now that I think about it, I guess it’s kinda creepy seeing something like that from your perspective…

Pyrrha: No, NO! I loved it! For realsies! I, uh… What does she, eh, I do?

Jaune: Well, unlike other classes, yours here is actually a “Hero” class. In this case, a Templar. Someone who can run headfirst into combat with nothing but a pair of blades and come out unscratched. Kinda like, eh… You.

Pyrrha: /// /// Jaune…

Jaune: And I do mean unscratched. You haven’t taken damage the entire campaign. The RNGods must be pleased with you.

Pyrrha: *Pretending to have understood that* Wow, Jaune. This is so- *Blinks* Wait… Where is your character?

Jaune: My… Character?

Pyrrha: Yeah, your- Oh, I get. Since you play as the Commander, that means you must be him, right?

Jaune: Oh, not at all. I actually made a character after myself in-game too.

Pyrrha: Really? Well, where is he?

Jaune: *Winces* How do I tell you this… He died at Gatecrasher. You know, the very first mission of the campaign.

Pyrrha: …What?

Jaune: It was a really dumb move of me. I left him out of cover, and he got zapped by a Sectoid.

Pyrrha: …

Jaune: It kinda sucks to lose a soldier that early on in the campaign, but it’s nothing to worry about. And he was still a recruit, so nothing of value was really lost-

Pyrrha: Restart it.

Jaune: Huh? Restart what? The previous mission?

Pyrrha: The campaign. Restart it.

Jaune: What? Pyrrha, I’m already 5 hours in, I can’t just-

Pyrrha: RIGHT! *Snatches Laptop* NOW!

Jaune: H-HEY! *Struggles to get it back* DON’T TOUCH MY SAVE FILE!

Pyrrha: AND BE SURE TO MAKE THINGS RIGHT THIS TIME!

Jaune: PYRRHA, KNOCK IT OFF! IT WAS AN ACCEPTABLE LOSS!

Pyrrha: YOU ARE NOT AN ACCEPTABLE LOSS, GOSH-DARN IT!

#rwby #pyrrha nikos #jaune arc #arkos #pyrrha x jaune #Jaune was playing with Ironman Mode enabled beeteedubs

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foone · 3 months

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So I watched @atopfourthwall 's latest (and possibly last!) History of Power Rangers (Cosmic Fury) and I have to say that I'm very happy to learn that Power Rangers said Trans Rights.

But... It seems like they could have definitely done it better, easily: just make the alien who hates being in a human body have a different gender of human body (than their alien form). Then you don't need to do anything extra in the dialogue, but now the "trans rights" subtext is much clearer.

Or hey, remember that you're a show about TEENAGERS THAT TRANSFORM INTO NEW BODIES. You've basically had a built in trans allegory, you just need to use it.

Introduce a new side character in the ranger's civilian life. A coworker or fellow student or something. Then you introduce a Sixth Ranger character: mysterious and powerful! And you have them be different genders... And then when the rangers finally befriend them, you reveal that they're the same person! A teenage girl who morphs into a man, or a teenage boy who morphs into a woman.

You could even have someone ask if it's weird that they switch genders when morphing, and they go "at first, but then I realized I really like it. Now it feels weird to not be morphed."

And then in the finale you tie it all together: they make a big sacrifice in the fight against the bad guy, and then get restored by The Morphing Grid or whatever. Except now their unmorphed form matches their morphed gender, they got a magic transition.

Bonus points if you brought this up beforehand in the penultimate episode: have them say that they're gonna miss being able to morph after they finally defeat the local gravely-voiced bad guy, since then they'll have to give up their morpher and won't get to be their morphed form anymore. The ranger they're talking to goes like "yeah... I'm gonna kinda miss being this powerful!" because they don't get why they like being morphed.

Extra bonus points: in your season requisite clip show, have it be dream-based... And show that, a la Batman in Batman Beyond not calling themselves "Bruce" in their head, their dream self is the morphed form, while the other rangers are in their civilian mode. You could even use this as part of the plot: they're attacked by some kind of dream monster, which is trying to defeat them in their dreams like Freddy Krueger. The rangers are powerless in their dreams, until they manage to meet up with the sixth ranger, who is morphed in their dream, and thus able to fight the monster, while the other rangers use their dreams to help out: flashing back to great moments in the season, with the dream monster greenscreened in.

(Help, I'm writing fanfic for a show I don't watch!)

Anyway... It just seems they could have easily done quite a bit better without making it too obvious to the point where it feels like a PSA.

#Power Rangers #trans rights

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mikeywayarchive · 11 months

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Mikey Way: “I was borderline terrified a lot of the time My Chemical Romance was active. I was learning the bass in front of 20,000 people every night!”

By Gregory Adams ( Bass Player ) published June 9th 2023

The reunited emo kings’ low-end ranger reveals why he swapped out his signature Fender Mustang for a sparkling new signature Jazz Bass, learning bass in arenas, and how he overcame insecurity about his chops

Full interview under cut:

My Chemical Romance’s reunion has seen bassist Mikey Way thrumming through the high pomp punk of The Black Parade and Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge favorites with a familiar rhythmic fortitude, but keen-eyed band obsessives have probably noticed the musician is no longer sporting the snazzy, silver-flake Squier Mustang signature model Fender built for him back in 2012.

The good news is that’s because, as Fender have just formally announced, Way has a brand-new – but just as glammy – Jazz Bass out now. There’s a good reason why Way’s made the switch: the Jazz Bass is his first love.

Though he started out on guitar, Way got the hang of a four-string in the mid ‘90s while playing a loaned-out Jazz Bass in his pre-My Chemical Romance project, Ray Gun Jones. He upgraded to a silver-finish Jazz of his own by the time MCR started touring in the early ‘00s, but a trailer mishap led to that instrument getting smashed to pieces on a highway.

Way tells Guitar World that he eventually became obsessed with the short-scale sturdiness of a Mustang bass guitar as My Chemical Romance were writing their 2010 full-length, Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys, after fooling around with a model Duff McKagan had left at North Hollywood’s Mates Rehearsal Studio. By 2012, Way had his Squier model in stores.

It was during the downtime after My Chemical Romance went on hiatus in 2013, though, that the stubbiness of his Mustang became a little hard to handle.

“I stayed away from playing bass for a little while, which is natural – I was just decompressing,” Way explains. “Then, sometime in 2014, I picked up the bass again, to get my chops back, [but] I noticed that the Mustang felt strange to me.”

After reaching out to the folks at Fender, Way got a grip on his playing by stretching out on the longer-necked Jazzes they sent him. Way’s take on the Jazz Bass is outfitted with ’70s-style single-coil pickups, and a thinline “C”-shaped maple neck the bassist says is super-speedy.

The finish is silver, of course, but Way also wanted an aesthetically inkier black pickguard. The headstock, likewise, pops with its matching gloss-black finish.

Speaking with Guitar World, Way gets into the glam and grunge gods who inspired his love of a good sparkle coat, overcoming performance anxiety, and why a steady attack wins the bass race every time.

What were some of the musts when it came to designing this latest signature?

“I’ve been obsessed with the sparkle finish as far back as I can remember. Growing up in the ‘90s, the silver-flake [finish] was big in alternative music. Chris Cornell had the Gretsch Silver Jet, [Daniel Johns] from Silverchair had one – [with] the imagery the Smashing Pumpkins used, they liked sparkles.

“Ace Frehley, of course, was big into flake finishes, and as a kid, you love the larger-than-life, comic book world of Kiss. [And there’s] David Bowie – the glam rock stuff. That flake finish makes me think of so many different things, but that’s why I love it so much.

“I remember being younger and going into stores and seeing a flake finish and being like, 'Oh my god, that’s an expensive [looking guitar] – I can’t afford that, let alone play it.' It was almost intimidating.”

One aesthetic difference between your Mustang model and this Jazz is that you didn’t throw a racing stripe on this one.

“I thought about bringing it back and keeping the continuity. Maybe somewhere down the line we’ll throw a racing stripe on this. The thing with [seeing a] racing stripe was always like, 'This player is a badass!'”

Is there a psychology behind removing the racing stripe, then?

“The psychology behind it is that I forgot about it. When My Chemical Romance was talking about doing reunion shows [in 2019], I’d contacted Michael Schulz from Fender and was like, 'Is it OK if I make a new bass for this [next] era of My Chemical Romance?' I wanted to take my past and bring it to the future – taking my Mustang and melding it with the Jazz Basses that I loved so much.

“I tried to have my cake and eat it, too. I wanted the thinner neck, and I wanted the silver-flake, but I wanted it on a Jazz Bass. They knocked it out of the park immediately.”

Getting back to how you used to admire those silver-flake guitars in the shops, you actually started out as a guitarist, right?

“So, the story goes that my brother [My Chemical Romance vocalist Gerard Way] had a Sears acoustic guitar when he was 10 years old. We would take a shoelace and make a strap, and we would stand on the couch pretending we were in Iron Maiden. And then it got real around ’93-’94, which lines up with the rise of alternative music. You started to see people that looked exactly like you, and they were playing guitar. They were playing Fender Strats!

“My brother got a Mexican Stratocaster, Lake Placid Blue. I found it not too long ago, and Michael from Fender hot-rodded it. That’s how I cut my teeth – that Mexican Stratocaster [was] my first foray into really trying to learn how to play guitar. I would watch bootlegs of concerts, and watch [guitarists’] hands and fingers – Thom Yorke, Billy Corgan, Noel Gallagher, Jonny Greenwood. I would watch what they were doing. It all started from that.

“Bass came out of necessity, twice. Me and my brother had a band called Ray Gun Jones, I guess in ’95-’96. It was kind of Weezer-ish, or us doing a surf-punk thing [with] a little bit of pre-mid-west emo. At the time we were really into Weezer, Jawbreaker, Promise Ring, Smashing Pumpkins, Nirvana, Sunny Day Real Estate.

“[Ray Gun Jones] needed a bass player, so my brother was like 'Hey, do you want to play bass for my band?' I was already a huge fan – I’d always tag along to practices. The ex-bass player let me borrow their bass. We had 4-5 songs, and I got the rudimentary from that. In that era, everyone was like, 'I want to be a guitar hero,' but I realized I had a natural knack for [bass]. I picked it up right away.

“Then, with My Chemical Romance, it was the same thing. My brother was like, 'We need a bass player,' and I was like, 'Well, this is familiar' [laughs]. 'Here’s the demo; learn these songs.' They weren’t terribly difficult.”

Was that bass you had borrowed a Fender Jazz?

“Yup, I’ve only ever played Fender. I’ve tried tons of other basses from other companies, but it always feels alien to me.”

You mentioned studying the playing of Thom Yorke or Billy Corgan through those bootleg vids. Were there any bassists that you treated similarly, to understand the mechanics of bass?

“Matt Sharp from Weezer. I tried to ape him in the beginning, but my attack sounds vaguely reminiscent of a Smashing Pumpkins recording. I would learn Siamese Dream and Melon Collie and the Infinite Sadness, and the Blue Album [the band’s 1994 self-titled debut] by Weezer. Those were the three albums that I put the most time into learning. That’s in my DNA.”

How about from a hyper-local perspective. If My Chemical Romance started out playing New Jersey basements and VFW halls, where there any bassists from that scene that inspired you, or that you appreciated?

“Yes! We shared a rehearsal space with this band called Pencey Prep – that was [MCR guitarist] Frank Iero’s original band. John McGuire was their bassist, and he let me borrow his equipment all the time. He taught me fundamentals, and gave me pointers – he taught me a whole heck of a lot.

“I always respected Tim Payne from Thursday, I loved his attack and stage presence. And when I’d watch Gabe Saporta from Midtown, I thought 'This dude is the coolest guy in the room.' He’s got this calm, cool, and collected [presence] that you can’t fake or learn. And then Eben D’amico from Saves the Day – brilliant!

“I would try to learn Saves the Day basslines. They were pretty complex [compared to] what most bands were doing in that scene. Most bands in the post-hardcore scene had simplistic basslines, but Saves the Day did not.

“There’s also Ray Toro, the guitar player of My Chemical Romance. Not only is he truly gifted at guitar, but he’s truly gifted at bass and drums – Ray can do everything. He was instrumental, early on, with showing me the ropes. Ray gave me lessons when I was a novice. I can’t thank him enough for that.”

What kind of pointers was he giving you?

“He showed me proper fretting, or [how to maintain] a steady attack. I got a really great compliment from our front-of-house guy, Jay Rigby. He told me that I’m one of the very few bass players that he doesn’t have to go in and tweak the volume [for]. 'You’re steady, throughout.' I think that’s something that Ray Toro instilled in me: the consistency of attack.

“It’s funny thinking about it, but I was such a novice going into My Chemical Romance that I would bring myself into an anxiety-ridden state of, 'Oh my god, we have a show tonight; I have to start practicing right now.' I would be practicing four to five hours before we played – I’d play the set [in the green room], and then I’d play it again. Other bands would be like, 'What are you doing?' I was so neurotic at that point, because there were so many people around me that were beyond gifted.

“I got pushed into the deep end; you’ve got no choice but to figure it out. Ray and Frank are so gifted that I had to keep up. I didn’t want to ever do the music a disservice.

“That brings me back to the simplicity of the early My Chem basslines. The first album [2002’s I Brought You Bullets, You Brought Me Your Love] was me learning the bass, and somehow [producer] John Naclerio recorded me and said, 'You did a great job,' which I did not expect.

“I thought I was going to go in there and they were going to have to do some studio magic, or someone would come in and play [my] part. I thought of the worst-case scenario, but I went in and did it. I played the bass seriously [enough] by that point.”

What are you generally looking for in a My Chemical Romance bassline?

“What makes it for me is if I do a fill, I’ll only do it once. If you listen to [the band's 2022 comeback single] The Foundations of Decay, any fill on there I only do one time. What’s interesting about The Foundations of Decay is that it’s very loose and run-and-gun. We went in and punched things in for timing, which everyone in the world does, but the meat of that is first-or-second take. Which brings me to someone else who was very instrumental to my bass playing: Doug McKean.

“He’s no longer with us, unfortunately, but he was our engineer from The Black Parade [until his passing in 2022]. He was always a huge cheerleader for me – he instilled confidence in me. He was always good at getting a killer performance out of me.”

What are some of the biggest My Chemical Romance bass moments for you?

“I’ll say that fill in on Foundations. No-one saw that coming.”

There’s a YouTube video out there of someone playing their favorite Mikey Way basslines, some while using your signature Squier Mustang, but one standout in particular is The Black Parade’s The Sharpest Lives.

“What’s funny is Sharpest Lives has a bass solo, and I was terrified of it. I had performance anxiety [through] the 12 years before we broke up – I don’t have it anymore. Somehow when the band got back together, a switch in my brain [got] flipped. [But] while My Chem was active, I was borderline terrified a lot of the time.

“I’m playing with people far above my skill level, I’m playing [on bills] with bands where their bass players are way better than me, [and] our shows were getting massive. We were playing arenas! So not only are you learning the bass, but you’re learning the bass in front of 20,000 people every night. It made me tweak a little, but I think it shaped me into what I became.

“That solo gave me anxiety. It was when we were playing the biggest venues of our career, and it would break for the solo [Way starts singing his ascending bass lick]. I practiced it relentlessly, then it [became] second nature. Later on, it [became my favorite part of the show.”

You’re already playing the Jazz signature in your live show, yeah?

“It’s what I use for the live show. Basically, Fender built [it] for the reunion, and then we made a couple tweaks for when we release it.”

Was there a learning curve at all towards transferring My Chemical Romance songs you’d written on a Mustang onto the Jazz?

“There was Planetary (GO!), a song off Danger Days. I’d guess you’d say the whole thing is a disco beat. It’s dance-y – [Mikey starts singing an octave-popping bassline], I do that for the entirety of the song. I was very happy that I only had to do that on a Mustang, initially [because of the shorter scale]. But going back to what I said, [after] I took a little break, [I] went back to a Jazz Bass.

“I missed the room, or the way my hand went up and down the neck. I wanted to go back to that, so I jumped back in and felt right at home again.”

How many Jazzes are you bringing on the road?

“I bring two basses out, [but] I stopped even switching [during the set]. This is a testament to Fender craftsmanship – that thing stays in tune. It’s got the four-saddle bridge, and it stays in tune so well. I’m a little neurotic so I’ll tune every few songs, but if I went five to six songs you probably wouldn’t even notice.”

What does it mean to you to now have a fully-formed Fender signature model – as opposed to the Squier – and with the body shape you began your career with?

“It’s really a dream come true. It’s funny, in 2002-3 we started touring across the country. I had a Mexican Jazz Bass, but [the band] were like, 'You have to use something with better electronics; better wood. Step it up!' So, I went into the Guitar Center on Route 46 in New Jersey, and at the time Fender had released a special Guitar Center edition that was silver-flake.

“It always bugged me that the pickguard was white – it threw me off, aesthetically, and I was like, 'I’m going to change that pickguard one day.' So, I got that, and I was using that for a while.

“We were out with [Boston emo quartet] Piebald – it was one of our first cross-country tours ever – and one night someone forgot to close the trailer door. We’re driving on the highway, and half the contents spilled out – unfortunately, my bass was a casualty of that.

“But Frank Iero, and his heart of gold, jumped out on the highway in the middle of the night and tried to recover [the bass]. He was like, 'Maybe we can fix it!' I’ll never forget him doing that. He got a chunk of it – it’s in one of our storage units.”

For more information on the Limited Edition Mikey Way Jazz Bass, head to Fender.com.

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avocadoguru · 1 year

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He was staring at her in a way no one had in her entire life. She couldn’t read anything in his eyes - not surprise, not fear, not malicious intent - nothing. (wolfrry, werewolf!harry, alpha!harry, ranger!y/n)

Lupus Noctis- Masterlist, Author’s Note & Warnings

Chapter 4 / alternatively, read on wattpad

Chapter 5 (word count: 14k)

Harry walked to the trailhead nearest Y/N’s apartment and the moment he entered the thick of the forest he shifted and began to bound through the woods toward his community. He missed his big bed and his nice house. But he didn’t particularly miss the members of his pack.

His community was within the preserve, well hidden. A road that led from the center of the village out to just beyond Silver Wolf Preserve was hidden and gated and led to a back road that eventually connected with a rural street that led into the city. No one had ever found it because it was well concealed. And if Harry's kind was good at anything it was the ability to disguise. They were masters at hiding in plain sight and their clever tactics meant that no human had ever found their safe haven in the preserve.

Many of the homes were small and simple, but the leaders and the noble members had nicer ones. Harry’s was amongst the nicest. His pack was mostly self-sufficient, though they did rely on working with humans for money and had to interact with humanity often.

The village ran on solar energy and natural resources to get power electricity. And their satellites provided internet just like a modern human community. The difference was, that everything they used was built and made by all the pack members themselves. No outsiders had been brought in.

Walking into the village you’d think it was a regular town. Shops, markets, houses, parks, a school, and a town center with a community building. But many times, his members would leave and visit the city and go to supermarkets or malls to buy things they wanted. They also worked among humans doing various menial jobs. Some were office workers, others construction, and some even worked for the government - all under the guise of being a human.

But of course, technically, he was part human. He identified mostly as human, but just better. He had all the components of a man and the genetics (plus a few extra mutations which allowed him to shapeshift). He also felt emotions like a human and now, for the first time ever, found himself attracted to one.

“Alpha! How goes it?”

Harry was pulled from his thoughts at the sound of one of the pack members just as he was getting close to his house without being seen. He thought he’d gotten lucky. But of course, everyone was always on the lookout for him. And they could smell him.

“Things are well, Daniel,” he spoke quickly as he kept walking, hoping to avoid a conversation. He knew he smelled of the girl. He’d already thought of an explanation for it if he was asked. And it wouldn’t be too crazy for anyone in his pack to come back smelling like a human. They had to work with them after all. But he knew the smell of Y/N was strong on him after their proximity at her apartment not an hour earlier.

The man asked a few questions about the upcoming meeting but nothing about the obvious smell of the female human on him.

After answering what he could, Harry waved at the man, “I’ve got to get going. It was nice to chat with you, Daniel.”

Harry stepped through his front door and sighed once it was closed behind him. The silence inside his house was welcome. He was glad he declined to have help around the house. It was offered to him upon taking up the title of alpha. He could have had a live-in staff but he didn’t feel that was necessary. He liked his privacy. Instead, he opted for help only on certain days of the week while he was not home.

And now that he was finally alone, he needed to take care of the physical ache in his body that had been pushed down since the night before.

Harry threw his clothes in the washer immediately and jumped into the shower in his state-of-the-art en suite bathroom to get rid of any remaining traces of her.

He let the water pour over him, resting his forehead against the tiles and trying to get it together.

He grabbed himself, moaning when he squeezed slightly, and felt some of the tension leave his body. He’d been hard ever since he left her apartment. Hell, he’d been hard most of the time she’d been in his proximity.

As he stroked himself languidly, he asked himself yet again- what was it about this human that drew him to her so much? He just couldn’t understand why he was reacting to her that way. He’d been through this before, trying to get to the bottom of it in his head, and he never could understand why she had this hold on him.

Growing up, of course, he’d always known about mates and their bond. That was deeply ingrained in his brain, was what he’d been taught all his life. But she was human. Surely this couldn’t apply to them.

Yet, the way he felt about her, the way he responded to her, physically as well as emotionally, without knowing much about her even–

Argh. Stop it, you bloody fool.

But images of her were swarming in his head. She’d let her guard down, she’d been vulnerable with him, both while slightly inebriated and later on, in the evening, when the alcohol had worn off…

He’d resisted her all day, all those glances and remarks and even the way he knew she was heavily turned on, maybe just as much as he’d been, after all- he had the advantage of smelling it on her, and then, finally… he’d had her right there in his arms. Willing, and pliant in his hands. She’d left it up to him to make the final move, and he loved that- loved that she seemingly backed down a bit and let him take control where it mattered. He was a dominant creature, yes, but he found that he enjoyed the way she challenged his authority. Still, she recognized when to give over the reins to him completely, and it made it all the more enticing.

He could still feel her under his fingertips, the way they sunk into her plump skin, the way he could feel her whole body tingling in anticipation under his hold. And the way she would throw her head back and elongate her neck, offering it up to him like that… it was as if she knew what he’d be doing if he had his way, as if she knew he’d sink his canines into her delicate flesh there and mark her as his mate.

It was as if her body knew. As if she were his mate.

He groaned, speeding up his movements, he was close, so close, and envisioning her underneath him like that, or even previously when she’d sucked his fingers into her mouth, he could only imagine her taking him down her delicate throat. She’d struggle, and gag and her eyes would no doubt tear up, he knew no male human came close to his girth and length, but she’d beg for it, she’d drool for him until he’d give her what she wanted. Until he’d coat her throat with his release and she’d moan and roll her eyes back in ecstasy when she’d finally bring him to climax.

Instead, he wasted all that precious load on the tiles of his shower and winced at the loss.

He finished cleaning up and patted dry, plopping into the big, plush bed in his den that he’d missed so much. Maybe he was nearing his rut. This was entirely unusual behavior on his part. Now that he’d orgasmed he did have a bit more clarity of mind.

Maybe he should show that alpha female that had been eyeing him heavily a good time, get his mind off things for a change. What was her name…

Great, he couldn’t even remember the name of his supposed mate- or at least- that’s what people were expecting her to become. Ever since he’d had to step into his late brother’s shoes and take over ruling over the pack, everyone was putting so much pressure on him to mate and start procreating. As if that was the most important aspect of being a pack leader; ensuring lineage.

Even so, Harry believed the rightful heir was Edward, his nephew. He was far too young right now- but he was his father’s son, and Harry was planning to step aside when the time came for him to finally come of age and take over. It was the right thing to do, it was what his brother would’ve wanted. Harry was an alpha, but he wasn’t meant to be a pack leader. It hadn’t been his destiny, having been second born, and he firmly believed Edward was meant to be the future leader. He was just going to ensure the interim.

However, the way the pack was treating his nephew was severely lacking. He could tell people didn’t feel the same way at all. In their eyes, Edward would never be worthy of taking over because of how he’d gotten stuck in his wolf form. But they didn’t understand this was temporary, Harry knew the young one would be able to shapeshift again- he was just stuck, the shock of it all hadn’t worn off. After all, he’d been there that night his parents had been killed right before his eyes- the poor child had shifted into his wolf form in an instinctual effort to protect his parents, but of course, he was no match- his wolf form was a mere pup.

But even so, his instincts had been highly attuned to the danger of the situation. He’d done right by his parents. Which said a lot about his strength of character, even at such an early age. Unfortunately, though, he hadn’t been able to switch back ever since. And especially since he couldn’t communicate in this form, Harry knew there was a lot of unprocessed trauma there, things he couldn’t get off his chest, and as much as Harry had tried to comfort him and encourage him to shift back, it seemed as though he had an emotional blockage he simply couldn’t get past. Or maybe he genuinely didn’t want to shift back…

Unfortunately, that also meant that the pack was questioning Edward’s abilities to be a proper leader one day. To them, he was considered to be underdeveloped and even seen as a bad omen.

Of course, nobody would dare say all these things to Harry’s face about his nephew. But he could hear people talk when they thought no one was around or thought he wasn’t listening. As an alpha, his senses were a lot more acute than others’.

He could also hear them questioning his own abilities to rule over them.

He knew they thought he was much too young at 25 to take on this huge task. And some argued he was never meant for this, having been secondborn. He couldn’t blame them, since he felt the same way. But that didn’t mean he was happy about it, or that he would allow anyone thinking like that about their alpha. Whether they liked it or not, he was their leader, and he wanted to do right by his late brother in doing what he could to ensure the pack’s survival.

He just wished things were different.

Sometimes… he wished he could just live a life he’d choose for himself, not one that’d been forced onto him by fate.

He envied his good friend, Niall. He’d renounced the pack and taken off on his own. A lone wolf. People were calling him a renegade, but Harry looked up to his courage and perseverance.

He was determined to live life on his own terms, in the human world. Fend for himself, after having given up the pack’s protection, knowing that if he somehow put the secret of their existence in jeopardy he’d still have to face the consequences. And Harry admired the shit out of him for having the courage to live the life he wanted.

He wished he could do the same.

Maybe, that way–

But no. Harry couldn’t go there. He couldn’t set himself up for heartache like that, envisioning any kind of future with the girl. Simply because he knew- she would never want him once he told her the truth. She couldn’t possibly understand that he was… different. In fact, it was unlikely she even believed in such things. Most humans didn’t. The ones that did were made fun of or called crazy. To humans, his kind was a myth, a story told in fiction books and movies full of other mythological creatures. He was a fable. His kind didn’t exist in much of the world. And he would never keep such a horrendous truth from her, it wouldn’t be right to rob her of knowing the full extent of what she’d be getting into with him. Harry was a beast with inhuman ability and the occasional violent tendencies (only when necessary of course) and she was a normal person that was leading a normal happy life. Even if it wasn’t forbidden for him to allow himself to indulge in her the way he wanted, he couldn’t do that to her. It could potentially ruin her life. And that was the last thing he wanted. It was just as much for her own good as it was for his. He could only imagine her look of horror and disgust, the same way he’d imagined it when she mentioned how his eyes were turning golden. He imagined himself shifting in front of her and her being horrified, and he could never unsee it now. She’d think he was a monster. And he couldn’t bear her looking at him that way.

They simply weren’t meant to be.

Y/N was pissed. At first, she was hurt, embarrassed… but the more she thought about it, the more she figured that he must have a girlfriend or even a wife. That could be the only answer as to why he reacted the way he did. They were just about to kiss. She knew he was feeling the pull and the sexual tension she was. She could tell by the way he was breathing and the way his eyes took her in. The way he touched her, his fingers lingering and even squeezing at her sides.

So the only explanation for him to stop like that was that he was feeling guilty. And what else would have a man feeling so guilty in a situation like that? It had to be the answer.

And she felt like she needed an answer too because his abrupt change in demeanor had her head spinning. It made no sense otherwise.

But then where was this supposed girlfriend last night? And that day at the lake. Or the night in the woods when she first saw him. And what about the pup and that cabin? She saw nothing that suggested a female’s presence in any way.

The more she pondered the situation the more confusing it became. And the deeper she started getting with her thoughts the less she believed he actually did have a girlfriend or significant other.

She even went so far as to imagine that he was involved in some shady mafia-like organization that led to him needing to hide out in an off-grid cabin deep in the forest. But that still wouldn’t explain why he ran out so suddenly. So then what was it?

Shaking her head of her thoughts that were only going in circles, she sent a text off to Nick and her boss in a group text saying she needed the following day off to recover because she’d twisted her ankle and had planned on getting it looked at.

With that out of the way, she determined it was time to find a doctor for her foot, now that Harry was most likely not going to take her to see his. And then her mind wandered once again to the fact that Harry had driven her car so he was without one when he left her apartment.

She shrugged to herself. Not my problem.

It turned out that looking for a doctor that specialized in orthopedics was not a very easy task. Especially one that might have an opening the following day.

Giving up her chore she gently limped into her living room and settled on her couch to binge-watch the new television series she’d just started. She needed to get her mind off the tall man with pretty eyes. Junk TV would be the answer. She hoped.

A heavy knock at her door startled her as she sat up from her couch. Where she’d been since the night before. Well, she had gotten up to make tea and hopped around to do things that were necessary (like brushing her teeth and using the bathroom), but otherwise, she stationed herself on her couch. The bed and what had (almost) happened there would’ve haunted her dreams, she could still smell him in her room.

Hopping toward her door she looked out the peephole and the sight of the person on the other side of her entry had her even more startled than the knock he issued moments prior.

She considered not answering and just ignoring the intrusion. It wasn’t even 9 am and yet he was at her door.

Slowly she opened the door, not allowing him to have a full view of her body. She was still in her sleep clothes and her hair was messy while he was fully dressed and looking fresh. Did he ever not look perfectly put together?

“What are you doing here?”

Harry looked at her with confusion, “I told you I was going to take you to my orthopedician. Are you ready?”

Y/N looked down over her body and then back to Harry, “No. Of course not. I didn’t think you were actually going to show up…”

Harry huffed and crossed his arms over his chest, “Okay. Well, get dressed. The appointment is in thirty minutes.”

Y/N blinked her eyes in puzzlement and opened the door up a little further, “Uh… I didn’t know– you… I mean, after yesterday I thought…”

Harry raised his brows as he feigned confusion but then stepped into her apartment when she finally gave in and opened her door the rest of the way.

He could tell right away that she’d been sleeping on her couch, “You shouldn’t be sleeping on your couch. That’s a good way for you to hurt your ankle yet again.”

Y/N closed the door but just stood in place. Was he really here? Like nothing had happened? Was she dreaming? What was going on?

Harry turned to look back at the girl, “What? I told you I was coming. You should have been ready. Go do what you need so we can leave and make it on time.”

She was at a loss. She hadn’t expected to see him again. She thought that was it when he walked out of her door the day before. But here he was with soft curls, a sheer silk shirt, those haunting green eyes, and of course, the heeled chelsea boots. But today’s boots were gold. He was wearing gold chelsea boots.

“Yeah, but–”

Harry took a step forward, “Do you need help or something? We’re wasting minutes discussing my being here. We’ll be late.”

Y/N rolled her eyes at how he so easily dismissed her concern. She really wanted to mouth off to him after that remark- do you need help or something? But instead, she bit her tongue and decided it was a good opportunity to get a doctor to look at her ankle since she’d been unable to find one the night before. She hobbled to her room, closing the door behind her to get ready as fast as humanly possible.

Harry looked around her living room and on her coffee table he spotted an empty mug with two used tea bags next to it lying atop a spoon. He noticed a book and upon picking it up breathed a laugh through his nose when he recognized the title. It was one he read himself not so long ago. Putting the book back down on her coffee table he folded her blanket and draped it over the back of her couch and then picked up the empty mug and the tea bags and brought them to her bare kitchen, finding the trashcan under the sink and placing the dirtied dishes in her sink.

The truth was, Harry knew why she was acting like she was. But he wasn’t going to discuss that with her. He didn’t want to get into why he was actually there or how they left things the day before.

He had considered not showing up. It was better to just leave it as it was. It would have been exactly what he wanted in the first place. It would have solved everything for him.

But even after he spurted his come onto the tiles in his shower the day before after imagining what she’d look like on her knees before him with his prick stuffed into her pretty mouth it didn’t actually quell his thoughts of her. It only made them worse. So then he began thinking of her in other positions as he did mundane tasks around his house, made some calls, prepared a draft for the new proposal he'd go over at the upcoming meeting, and even got a hard workout in- all to get his mind off of her.

But the moment he stopped moving and sat for a moment he couldn’t help but feel something. What? He couldn’t quite put his finger on it. And he even regretted putting his shirt in the wash because then that meant he wouldn’t be able to have her smell near him when he snuggled into his bed for the night.

He imagined allowing her to ride him with her palms down on his chest holding herself up. Normally he preferred taking the dominant position on top but the thought of having her wriggle over him and attempt to take him in that position, sliding herself down over him, was even more appealing since he was particularly curious how she would handle him. But amongst all of his dirty thoughts at the forefront of his mind was the look on her face as he backed away from her before their lips could even meet, and knocked over her little porcelain figurine. She was hurt.

He hurt her. And that was what eventually had him disregarding his own good senses. For some reason, the idea that she was hurt because of him wasn’t sitting right, not to mention she was actually hurt and needed his help to drive her to the doctor. He'd promised her.

When Y/N opened her bedroom door, Harry peeked down the hall to see her slowly limping toward him. Wearing shorts and a sweater and a tennis shoe on one foot, she had her hair pulled back into a ponytail which showcased her full neck to him.

Harry scolded himself for the kind of thoughts that something as innocent as her neck invoked. And he even took care of himself before leaving his home that morning in hopes of keeping his reaction to her at a minimum.

“The doctor will see you now,” the receptionist smiled at the two of them in the waiting room and Y/N smiled back curtly while Harry blew an exaggerated huff, promptly standing up and helping the girl off her chair.

“There he is–”

“Right. There I’ve been, for the past 20 minutes. You were supposed to see us at half past.”

The man shrugged smilingly, “That’s why it’s called being a patient. ‘Cause you have to be patient.”

“Harry…” Y/N widened her eyes at him suggestively and then cast her gaze back on the man sitting at his desk “It’s alright, doctor. Thank you for seeing me on such short notice, I really appreciate it.”

“Please, call me Niall. All of Harry’s friends are my friends. And you must be one hell of a friend for him to be pulling strings like this, eh? He never asks for favors.”

The girl stammered while Harry glared at him, “Sure, if that’s what you want to call it. I’d call it you owing me, but we’ll let it slide. For now.”

“Yeah. That definitely sounds more like you…” Y/N muttered under her breath and Harry cleared his throat uncomfortably.

“We’ll reconvene on this,” the young man laughed. “Let’s see what seems to be the problem, eh? Sit on there for me, will you?”

Y/N did as instructed, and laid her affected leg on the examination bed, reaching to take her sock off but Harry beat her to it. She noticed the young man raise his eyebrows at that as he approached them but switched over quickly to the good-humored expression he always seemed to be sporting.

He palpated her ankle carefully, then further up along her calf, and then called in an assistant to take Y/N over to the X-ray room so he could have a full picture of what was going on.

Harry wanted to take her in himself but the assistant assured him she had it covered, which earned her a small grunt in return.

“Thought this was someone from the pack, but clearly our dear patient appears to be oh so very human. Could’ve given me a heads up, maybe? Would have hated to slip something about her injuring herself during shifting or something and giving you the satisfaction of ending me right there and then, alpha.”

“Maybe it was a test.” Harry couldn’t help but smirk at his friend. Truth was, he trusted Niall with his life. It’s why he allowed for him to go live his life the way he intended to outside the pack. He knew he’d never do anything to endanger the pack.

“Well, hope I passed. So what’s the deal with this chick, then?”

Harry peered out the window, “How long does an X-ray take?”

“You really gonna ignore all my questions about her?”

“Do you think it’s fractured?”

Niall laughed incredulously, “Well, I’ll be damned.”

Harry furrowed his brows, “Is it?”

“It’s probably just a sprain but I wanna be extra sure- for you. As a favor. So does the pack know they’re gonna be taking orders from a human soon?”

“Didn’t you just say she must be one hell of a friend?” Harry glared at him.

“You don’t have friends. I’m your only friend, that is.”

Harry resumed looking out the window, “Maybe some torn ligaments?”

“I’d be surprised. What kinda sex positions are you bending her into for her ankle to sprain like that though–”

Niall’s laughter came to a sudden halt when Harry flashed his golden eyes at him, “She’s human, as you so keenly observed, doctor. What do you take me for?”

“I mean. It’s not forbidden. Or if it is, then I’m afraid I have some explaining to do…”

“Well, you’re not an alpha, are you? I, however… would probably break her.”

“So you have thought about it.” Niall beamed, pleased with himself. “I know you’re oh so much bigger and stronger as an alpha, but your human form she can take, I assure you. If you were looking for medical clearance in that regard,” he winked at his friend and the latter scowled.

“I’m not,” Harry warned.

“Mhmmm… I’m sure you’re not. But just in case at some point, you know… there’s no reason you two couldn’t have a little fun. You definitely can’t get her pregnant, since she’s human so that’s just physically not possible.”

Harry didn’t know why, but hearing he couldn’t get her pregnant if he tried felt like a pang in his chest. He’d suspected as much himself, of course, what with them being practically different species. But this was just another reason not to pursue her in the grand scheme of things.

“Just think of that as a bonus! Maybe don’t knot in her though. Would hate for the alpha himself to deconspire our sacred secret.” Niall realized he should shut up when Harry began to emit a low growl.

The assistant brought Y/N back into the office and handed Niall the X-ray, and he immediately placed it over the negatoscope. “Okay, good news my dear. Everything looks great, bone-wise. I’ll prescribe you something for the swelling to go down faster, but maybe just keep weight off of it for a couple more days. Then resume walking as normal, but nothing too strenuous for a week or two.”

“Oh… at all? I’m glad it’s nothing serious, but do you think taking all these extra precautions is necessary then? My work kinda demands I walk quite a lot… on uneven terrain.”

“Oh? What do you do?”

“I’m a forest ranger.”

Niall looked up at her, interrupting writing down her prescription, “Oh. Interesting. Over at Silver Wolf?”

“Yeah.” she smiled, “Have you been?”

Niall smiled to himself, resuming his writing, “Oh, yes I have. Grew up around those parts, pretty much.”

“Oh, that’s nice.”

Niall shot Harry a knowing look, handing him the prescription since he was standing closer to the desk then looked back over to her, “I’m afraid you’re gonna have to ask your colleagues to fill in for you on ground duties for a bit, Y/N. Otherwise, it’s gonna take ages to recover. Not to mention you're prone to injuring yourself again. Alright? I’m sure you can arrange something. Officer.” He winked at the girl and she smiled back, then he walked them out of the office, with Harry avoiding making eye contact til the very end when the two shook hands and he made sure to remind his friend of the difference in strength between an alpha and a beta.

Once they were back in the car things were silent again. Glancing over toward the girl he wondered what was going through her mind. He preferred her little attitude rather than her silence. It led him to think that he actually had hurt her in some way by leaving so abruptly the day before. But that was for the best. For both of them.

Yet here he was once again, testing the waters, so to speak. Why was he doing this to himself? He probably knew the answer to that. It was hard to admit that he was feeling this way for a human. But no one else had piqued his interest the way Y/N had.

Harry helped her back to her front door but was quick to say his goodbyes, mentioning he had things to do, which he did of course. Edward had been left alone for too long and as much as he wouldn’t mind sticking around with Y/N a little longer, his nephew was his immediate priority.

Y/N couldn’t figure the man out. Just the day before he’d run out on her and left her in a very vulnerable position. And then he showed up the very next morning acting as if nothing had happened. As if he hadn’t had his hands on her legs and pressing the pads of his fingers into her waist. As if he hadn’t been looking at her with the same longing she felt in her chest.

But he didn’t even come in after he helped her to her door. In fact, he didn’t do much in the way of any sort of signal that he was interested. He’d barely even spoken to her on the car ride back to her house other than to ask her for her ID when they stopped at the drive-through pharmacy to pick up her prescription. She tried not to let the small bit of disappointment that was simmering in her tummy surface at that thought. Maybe she’d misread everything and the brushes of his fingers on her skin and the look in his eyes were all in her head. She couldn’t wrap her mind around why she found that dispiriting. Because she barely even knew him. She didn’t need to get involved with someone like him. Someone who was likely involved in something illegal.

Sitting down on her couch she realized her mug and tea bags weren’t on her coffee table, and the blanket she’d been cocooned in before Harry arrived was neatly folded and draped over the back of her couch.

Huh, that’s weird.

She knew Harry must have done it because she hadn’t gotten around to cleaning before he showed up. This kind gesture was just another thing to add to the list of her confused feelings.

She wondered what Harry was doing that had him leaving so quickly. Maybe he really did have things to do like he said. She imagined him driving up to some sketchy abandoned warehouse in his crazy expensive Mercedes G-Wagon he’d picked her up in. She shook her head with a laugh. He was a mystery for sure. She couldn’t even begin to imagine what he was actually up to.

When Harry was about 100 yards from his cabin he smelled a distinct scent. It was faint but familiar. It was the scent of the girl. He knew it was because she’d been in his bedroom and lying on the fabric of his blankets and pillows, but he hadn’t expected that specific scent.

He licked his lips and walked through his front door to see Edward on the couch with his ears perked but Harry could barely pay attention to the pup because her smell was overwhelming to him. It shouldn’t have been that strong. Not that particular one anyway.

Following his nose to the bedroom, he wasn’t surprised the fragrance was coming from inside the room. He crawled onto his bed and inhaled picking up only trace hints of the smell he was honing in on. If it wasn’t coming from the blankets on his bed…

Another sniff led him toward the floor in the space between the wall and the bed. He put his feet down on the floor and crouched. There was a piece of blue fabric under the bed. Harry reached for the sacred garment, knowing exactly what it was. He’d seen it on her the day before and now it was lying on the floor in his bedroom.

Harry’s salivary glands began to react immediately and he huffed as he clenched his teeth. Without a single rational thought in his mind, he brought the blue panties up to his nose and inhaled deeply. The flavor overwhelmed his senses. He sighed and inhaled again, his heart beginning to pound wildly.

Harry plopped down on his bed and raised the panties up so he could get a good look. Basic bikini style in a cotton blend. Nothing like what he’d seen in the dresser at her apartment. These were her more practical panties but to Harry, there was nothing plain about them. He lifted the crotch upward and turned the material inside out to press his nose into the spot that had been sitting against her skin for many hours.

It was delightful. It was the best thing he’d come across in a long time (aside from Y/N herself). He smiled when he permitted his tongue to taste the fabric and he panted, a small whine falling from his throat just before he began to vibrate with a purr.

He forced himself to pull the panties away from his face when a very different kind of whine interrupted his delicious train of thought.

His nephew was standing in the doorway to the bedroom, no doubt expecting to spend some time with his uncle having been all by himself for longer than what he was used to. The accusatory look in the young one’s eyes made Harry stuff the panties deep into his pants’ pocket and stand up abruptly.

“I’ll go get us something to eat, alright? Come on, go outside for a bit till I get back.”

And Harry did go hunt- although he hadn’t planned for it. He’d planned to take Edward back home with him. He only ever brought him over to the cabin while he had stuff to do outside of the pack, simply because he didn’t wanna leave him alone. He truly didn’t trust his own pack enough to do so. Which was food for thought…

So whenever he wasn’t at home, he’d take the pup with him and leave him at the cabin, then pick him up on the way back. The previous night he’d simply needed some time alone. His house back home was definitely big enough for privacy, but it made more sense to come back for his nephew the next morning. Only, he decided last minute he was going to take Y/N to see Niall after all, against his better judgment, and he’d gotten delayed. He felt guilty, in truth. Edward was probably wondering where he’d been for so long. And then when he got back to the cabin, he went straight for the panties and almost forgot about him being there entirely upon finding them.

So yes- he would bring them back something to eat, but he had something more urgent to take care of first if he wanted to be somewhat normal for the remainder of the evening.

Finding a good soft spot to sit on, leaning against a tree trunk far enough away from the cabin, Harry took out the panties from his pocket with shaky hands. His eyes were surely glowing with how out of his mind he felt, the scent invading all of his senses. Another taste and a deep inhale had him hard in his pants again. His crude wolf nature wasn’t going to be able to let this go. He needed this. Part of him felt silly for being so hard up and not being able to control his urges. But another part of him was feral and unable to resist the temptation.

Harry spit into his hand and over his tip, smoothing the saliva over himself. He bit his lip to keep his groans to a minimum. With one hand holding the crotch of the panties up to his nose and mouth and his other stroking himself quickly he worked his way toward an orgasm in record speed. The smell and the taste could have him getting off without touching himself if given enough time. He was sure of it.

Imagining her ass in the air and his hands grasping her soft hips as he plunged deeply into her felt so natural. It felt like his base response was the right one. With her soft voice and smooth skin, her lips parted and her body being jolted forward and spread apart for him…

A shaky moan fell from his lips when he began to come, pouring his release onto the forest floor in relief. With heavy breaths, he put the panties back into his pocket and wiped himself up. God, he wasn’t sure how he was going to deal with this. He couldn’t imagine enjoying the alpha female as much as he’d just enjoyed masturbating to Y/N’s panties. The alpha was pretty and she smelled nice, but that’s where it ended for him. And he just wasn’t sure that it was enough.

Harry was a mess. He wasn’t sure how he’d made it through the night. He ended up not going back home since he brought food back to the cabin to share with his nephew. He made sure to spend enough time with Edward, telling him about his day- well, as much as he felt like sharing of course, and even shapeshifted again and played around with him for a bit to tire him out.

Making sure to close the door to the bedroom after the little one had fallen asleep on the couch, he spent the night in the bed Y/N had slept in. It’d been pure torture. But he relished in it, like a masochist. He played with himself again using her panties. He wished he could preserve her scent somehow, though it was wearing off with how much he’d been sniffling and rubbing at them. But he couldn’t help himself. He felt possessed.

Then after he’d found his release again, he buried his nose into the pillow and it felt like heaven. He’d seen her softer side a bit, and his imagination played into that. He liked to imagine her whispering sweet nothings into his ear while scratching at his scalp after he’d pleasured her over and over again, and they were both still breathing heavily, coming down from their highs. He imagined her satisfied and sleepy but still making sure to cradle him into her loving arms and dote on him before they both gave in to sleep. He’d be spent and he’d fight to stay awake and listen to her sweet voice some more. He’d make sure to switch and take her into his arms before he fell asleep so as to not accidentally crush her, nuzzling his nose in the crook of her neck and wishing he could mark her there for the whole world to see that she was his.

So when he woke up after alternating between sweet and filthy dreams of her, he tried to busy himself, get his mind off things, but he knew it was futile. One thing kept replaying incessantly in his head, over and over.

She was his.

He knew it was impossible. He knew he was fooling himself, feeling reckless for every moment he allowed himself to even entertain the idea. But he at least needed to see her, quite desperately so.

He shapeshifted to reach the station as quickly as possible, making sure to switch to his human form within considerable distance to be safe. On his way there he was growing more and more worried- he hoped he’d find her there and not on patrol somewhere, as per Niall’s orders. He was genuinely concerned for her.

It was as if he couldn’t get there fast enough. He felt some sort of urgency in his bones he’d never experienced before. And when the ranger station came into view he could immediately tell why. She wasn’t alone.

Rationally, Harry was well aware that Y/N had co-workers. He was also well aware that most rangers were men. But the closer he got, the more he could pick up on the conversation she was having with one of them, and it made him stop in his tracks a few times to listen in before he made his presence known.

“It’s no bother at all, Y/N. Why take a cab when I can drive you, really now… you should’ve given me a call this morning, I would’ve come and picked you up on my way.”

“Really, it’s fine.”

In truth, Y/N didn’t want Nick to know where she lived. She just had a feeling it was better if he never got to know that about her. But for some reason, he was making a big deal out of her slight limp and how she had to do office work for the next 2 weeks. She’d talked to her superior about it and handed him the note Niall had written for her work, and now Nick was lingering around the station when he should’ve been out patrolling on his own.

Her eyes widened when a familiar presence came into view. He was standing in the doorframe, and Nick hadn’t heard him come in. Hell, she hadn’t either, but there he was, taking his aviator glasses off and hooking them into the neckline of his shirt, he’d skipped buttoning it up and it showed quite a bit of his torso, as per usual. She tried not to let her eyes linger but there was no helping it. He looked… good enough to eat.

Harry cleared his throat and looked the man straight in the eyes once Nick eventually turned around, “What can we do for you, sir?”

Harry disregarded him completely and shifted his gaze onto Y/N, “How are you? Any better?”

Nick stepped aside, as Harry approached her. She took in just how much he towered over her coworker and how confused the latter looked. She was enjoying this, she couldn’t lie. Both Harry’s attention coming in to check on her, and the fact that Nick was trying to figure out what it meant. Good. She wanted him thinking that maybe she and Harry had something going on, maybe he’d get the hint and stop hitting on her if he thought Harry was in the picture.

“She’s alright. And you are?”

Or not.

“Talking to her,” Harry replied, staring him down. “Shouldn’t you be out patrolling?”

Nick opened up his mouth to say something but hesitated. He looked over to Y/N and she put him out of his misery, “Go. You’re losing daylight. You’ve got more ground to cover without me and I really don’t wanna be late home this evening.”

“... Alright. Good day,” he nodded towards Harry, and when the courtesy wasn’t extended back he finally took his leave after locking out his rifle.

“I don’t like him.”

“Somehow, I picked up on that. What are you doing here?”

“You never answered me,” he nudged towards her foot that was propped on a smaller stool. He was glad she was heeding Niall’s advice. Good. She’d soon make a full recovery.

She shrugged, “It’s… a bit better? Can’t really tell. Pain wise it’s a lot better, I’ve been taking the anti-inflammatory Niall prescribed. Uhm… I never got to properly thank you yesterday for taking me in. I really appreciate it. Thank you.”

The smallest smile pulled at his lips as he looked from each of her eyes and then took her face in. The way he looked at her suddenly had her forgetting all the doubts that she battled with just the day before. This was the look that haunted her.

Before Harry could reply the station’s phone rang. Y/N reached across the desk but Harry picked up the receiver and handed it to her, pushing the phone closer towards her as he did so.

“Silver Wolf Preserve. Yes, we organize guided tours. What area would you be interested in? Let me check our calendar.” Y/N went through their scheduled appointments on the PC and held the receiver between her shoulder and ear to type in the new appointment once she made sure they had an opening available on the requested date. She typed all the necessary info in and when she finally hung up, she looked around and Harry was gone.

Wondering if maybe he’d wandered off through the station, nosy as she knew him to be from how he very blatantly inspected her apartment (though she supposed that was kind of pot calling kettle black), she called out for him, “Harry?”

Finally, she noticed a post-it stuck on the pencil holder facing her, “See you around, officer.”

She audibly exhaled through her nose. She supposed it was for the best. She had work to do, and he was… distracting.

Y/N was happy to be finally able to put on two shoes instead of just the one that morning. Progress. She was still limping, keeping weight off of her foot, still stuck doing office work at the station for the foreseeable future, but it’d started raining for a bit and so, she wasn’t all that upset about it in the end.

She was sipping her coffee at the desk, ready for a slow day when Nick walked into the station. She furrowed her brows at him confusedly, “Hey, you. Filling in for Tom?”

“No. He’s not here yet, then? – Good. I wanted a word with you in private.”

Y/N’s breath caught. That sounded like trouble. She’d hoped Harry had scared his advances away, “...Nothing you could have told me over the phone?”

Nick halted in front of the desk, hands on his hips, “How well do you know that guy from the other day? The one with the cocky attitude.”

“I… uhm, why are you asking?”

“He’s bad news. I’d stay away from him if I were you.”

Y/N felt like asking him what else was new, but instead, she cleared her throat and tried to feign ignorance, “What are you on about?”

“He followed me. More like stalked me. I went out after work last night, had a couple beers at the bar down the street from where I live. Parked my car at my building and walked there. Had my umbrella with me since it’d started pouring and really didn’t notice anything amiss. I was half a beer down when this guy sits next to me at the bar and when I look to my left, there he is. That guy. I initially thought that was just a weird coincidence, but your pal had a message to get across.”

“... What did he say?”

“He told me to stay away from you if I knew what was good for me. Told me to keep my dirty little paws off you, or else.” Y/N was at a loss for words. Stammering to get a word out, Nick cut her off, “He also kept calling me Mickey, he said it was like that pathetic little mouse, and that it was fitting. I swear to God, Y/N. I really had to hold back, I wanted to punch him in the face, but I didn’t wanna risk losing my badge over this. Who the fuck does this asshole think he is?!”

Y/N fought to keep her amusement to herself. Both for the Mickey Mouse remark, but especially for the way Nick actually thought he could take on Harry.

“I don’t know what to tell you, Nick…”

“He’s trouble, Y/N.” He warned, pointing his finger at her as he walked out of the station, “He better not let me catch him in here again if he knows what’s good for him!”

When Y/N heard Nick get back into his car and drive off from the outside parking space, she allowed herself a chuckle. But sobering up, she recognized this was unacceptable on Harry’s behalf. Who did he think he was to do such a thing? It was unacceptable. He’d crossed a line. She wished she could get a hold of him and tell him off.

Making the trek to his cabin was out of the question with the state of her ankle, and with it raining she wouldn’t have even tried. Plus, he might not even be there for all she knew.

If only there were an easier way to get to him…

Glancing over to the PC, she searched on Google Maps for Dr. Niall Horan’s private practice. Two could play that game.

When she dialed the number, to her surprise, a familiar voice greeted her, rather than a receptionist.

“Hello! Um… hi! This is Y/N Y/L/N, from the other day?”

“Oh yes! Harry’s friend. How are you doing? Is everything okay?”

“Yes, actually my ankle is much better already. I was just surprised you answered the phone and not someone else. Caught me off guard,” she laughed.

“Oh yeah, Mitzy isn’t in yet, I got here before her to sort some paperwork prior to starting for the day. You’re calling quite early, are you sure everything is alright?”

Y/N grimaced, realizing he was right. It wasn’t even 9 yet. She’d been in such a hurry to get a hold of Harry after what Nick had just told her that she didn’t even think about that aspect. “Yeah, sorry– I didn’t realize I was calling that early. I just got into work myself. I wasn’t even aware of the time. I have to uber here now, and you never know how busy they are… so I just rather be early than late. Anyway– I’m digressing. I’m calling for a favor actually, I hope I’m not overstepping, though…”

Niall chuckled “Don’t worry about it, us early birds gotta stick together. What can I do for you, Y/N?”

“Well… this is gonna sound silly, but I recently updated my phone and lost all my contacts. I was wondering if you could give me Harry’s? I have no other means of contacting him, and it’s kind of an urgent matter…”

Niall smiled to himself. Yeah. She wouldn’t have any means of contacting him, that’s for sure. He was also pleased to see his hunches had probably been right about the duo. “Oh, I dunno, Y/N… that would be breaching that doctor-patient confidentiality…”

Y/N could hear the humor in his tone and mirrored it, “Well, seeing as Harry is your friend, you could maybe turn a blind eye just this once?”

Niall laughed at her retort and gave her the number. Normally he wouldn’t dream of sharing Harry’s info like that, but for very different reasons than what she was imagining.

Thanking him and wishing him a good day ahead, Y/N shook off Niall’s infectious good mood. She was pissed, and she was gonna get some answers.

When Harry answered in that deep, coarse voice she pushed down the initial response to swoon at the sound. She was on a mission.

“Listen here, Harry… I don’t know who you think you are but you cannot go around stalking my co-worker and then threaten him! Why would you do such a thing? And you followed him? Do you not find that weird? Because I sure do! And what business is it of yours to tell him to stay away from me? Huh?”

Y/N kept going on with her tirade and Harry listened. He opened his mouth once or twice to respond but she didn’t let up.

“Furthermore, I barely even know you! What makes you think you can tell anyone what they can and can’t do around me? I don’t know what was going through your mind! What did you mean when you told him to stay away from me? That’s a weird thing to say to someone that I have to work with!”

When Y/N finally paused to take a breath Harry took the chance to finally respond as cooly as possible, “I’m sorry, who is this?”

Y/N could hear the smirk in his voice. He was playing games with her.

“You know good and well who I am. Are you not going to answer any of my questions?”

“Did he really go running off to you to tell on me? Scared him off that badly, did I?”

A scoff fell from her mouth at his amused voice, he sounded mighty pleased with himself. “You’re something else, you know that? What you did was wrong and all I’m looking for is an explanation!”

Harry chuckled and that only served to piss her off further.

“Ughhh!” And with that, she pressed the end-call button and let out a breath to calm herself. She hoped she made her point clear. It felt good to tell him off like that.

Harry saved her number into his contacts and made a mental note to have a word with Niall for sharing his info without checking with him first. Not that he minded in this particular case, but still his friend knew better than to share his number considering how he knew he had to keep a very low profile. No, he was actually delighted to have this new means of communicating with her, already thinking of ways he could take advantage of it.

Usually, Harry never acted on impulse. He was a very calculated man, and so, he very seldom regretted any of his actions. However, he’d regretted confronting her co-worker as soon as he’d gotten back into his car that rainy night. He actually felt a bit embarrassed by what he’d done. By following Nick and telling him to back off he revealed that he was more interested in her than he wanted to let on. But that was all done and it couldn’t be changed. He was slightly amused by her upset, however. For some reason, he got a kick out of riling her up. Any passionate reaction he got out of her tickled him. But as much as he enjoyed her attitude he didn’t want her thinking she had the upper hand here. She was the only person he would allow to talk to him that way. If she only knew…

Grabbing her things off the desk and stuffing them into her backpack, Y/N was ready to call an uber at the end of her day at the station. Lindsy, the one who would be taking over the night shift was there, and her partner she’d patrolled with had already left.

The truth was, she was stalling. She wasn’t used to her days going so slow and uneventful. She was alone for most of the day, cooped up at the station, and then going home she’d be alone some more. She knew the reason she was probably overly emotional was because she’d just started ovulating. Probably why she acted on impulse and did all that to get a hold of Harry’s number that morning to tell him off as soon as possible after what Nick had told her.

She was a bit regretful now, though. Knowing Nick, he’d probably exaggerated. Harry could’ve just been at that same bar by coincidence. And yes, he did overstep, telling him to stay away from her, but at the end of the day, that’s what Y/N actually wanted. He’d kinda done her a favor, although she was still not appreciative of the liberties he took in doing so.

But knowing what little she knew about Harry, he’d meant well. He could probably sense Nick’s interest in her when he’d been at the station and the way she wasn’t all that happy to have him reply in her stead when Harry had asked how she was feeling. So, he’d pieced together that he was probably annoying her, and he’d been right.

Obviously, with the way Harry had laughed it off, he’d not seen it as that big of a deal.

But she always got a bit into her feels, much more predisposed to act on impulse when she was ovulating, and he’d been on the receiving end of it. She probably should’ve held off confronting him about it when he’d no doubt show up out of the blue again. She did miss him popping in unexpectedly, had kind of gotten used to it… and found that she even missed his presence.

She’d probably go home now and watch some sappy drama on Netflix while she scarfed down the ice cream she kept in her freezer for this monthly occasion. Although she kinda wanted to check and see first if her co-worker maybe wanted to order in something at the station, to share dinner.

“I thought that was your uber outside, but it can’t be. Right? Like who the hell ubers in that?”

Y/N furrowed her brows, limping over to the window where Lindsy was looking outside to the small parking space they had out front of the station, “No, I haven’t called one yet…” she trailed off when she saw none other than Harry’s fancy Mercedes.

The engine was audibly cut off, and then Harry stepped out of the car. Lindsay whistled lowly, “Well, damn. I was about to go off about visitors bothering us this late, but this kinda visitor I don’t mind– shit!” She took a step back when Harry looked straight at them through the window, “Do you think he heard me?”

Y/N took in her flustered co-worker and fought off her amusement while she grabbed her backpack, “Don’t be silly, he’s all the way out there. Ok. See ya, Lindsy. Have an easy one!”

Y/N was secretly gloating on the inside knowing her co-worker’s jaw was about to drop when she’d see her greeting Harry outside. “Here to challenge my colleague to a duel or something? He’s off duty today unless you got some issue with my other co-workers as well,” she glanced back over her shoulder to the window, and sure enough, Lindsay was standing there dumbfounded.

“Nah. She doesn’t seem to be into women.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow at him “Oh? That’s pretty presumptuous of you. So let me get this straight… you only have a problem with anyone who would present any interest in… me?”

Harry’s lips curled into a smile, as he raised his own eyebrow at her before pushing his body off of the side of his car and opening the passenger door for her, “That’s what I came here to say, actually. I was just looking out for you. Men can be dangerous when they get rejected, and I could tell he was making you uncomfortable the other day. I’m, uh…” he lowered his gaze while he kept the door open, waiting for her, “I’m sorry if I overstepped.”

She got closer to the door, looking him in the eye, “I appreciate that. But you were right, he does kinda make me uncomfortable. So even though you went about it all wrong, behind my back, I’m lowkey glad you did. Maybe he’ll back off now.”

Harry wasn’t expecting that. She was always taking him aback with her candor, the sincerity with which she expressed her emotions. He wasn’t used to that at all. His kind were not in the habit of being vulnerable like that, their emotions always kept at bay, lest it clouded their judgment.

He lingered for a bit before closing the door after she got in, and walked to his side, joining her in the car.

He cleared his throat, starting the engine, “I, uh, was thinking… I could take you home, or, there’s a much more exciting second option…”

“... Which is?” Y/N smiled widely at him when he finally met her gaze. He was acting bashful and she ate it up.

“I know you must miss your little routine, swimming down at the lake. I could help you in and out of the water. Since the weather let up and it’s actually a nice, warm afternoon… sounds perfect to go for a dip, wouldn’t you say?”

Y/N was grinning in earnest now, “That does sound perfect, actually.”

Harry smiled back at her, a lopsided smile that showcased his perfect teeth and even a dimple she hadn’t been aware of before. She hadn’t really seen him do much else beside scowl until then. It was quite… disarming.

The drive was relatively short. Knowing her colleagues had patrolled for the night, they were safe to park the car on the nearest pathway without anyone ever knowing they’d been there. It was still a bit of an off-trail trek, and Harry insisted she’d piggyback again. When they got there, it was close to sunset, a bit later than her usual time frame, but that was her own fault for dilly-dallying at the station. She didn’t ask, but she had a hunch he’d stood parked there for a while until she finally left.

Y/N didn’t know why he was doing this. He’d apologized, and that was enough for her. He didn’t have to go out of his way like this. But she was secretly glad he did. Maybe a bit more than just glad.

Harry was losing his mind. He didn’t know whether it’d been the fact that he’d resisted temptation and hadn’t seen her in a bit- he’d grown so used to her presence already, but something about her was heightening all of his senses. It felt as though he had her panties flush against his nose the whole time. Her scent was ten times more potent than before. It made his eyes roll to the back of his head.

Reaching the lake, finally, he began unbuttoning his shirt right away and nudged at her to follow suit. She bit her lower lip and began mirroring his actions, and Harry had to swallow the lump in his throat when she shrugged her shirt off. Her bra wasn’t one of the ones he’d seen in her top dresser, but even so, the view was spectacular. Her cleavage was making his mouth water, he could even see her pointed nipples through the fabric. Her whole body was littered in goosebumps and he wondered if maybe this was going to be too cold for her. His own body temperature was much higher, and he could withstand much colder environments without any discomfort, but he was aware of the fragility of her human condition.

“Too cold?”

She blushed furiously when she saw him looking at her erect nipples, “No, it’s good. I’ll get used to it. But I usually come in a bit earlier, I get out of the water just as soon as the sun goes down and the temperature starts dropping considerably. Not to mention, you know… animals coming out. Can be dangerous.”

“You tell me when you start getting cold, alright? Don’t worry about animals. I’m here.”

She furrowed her brows, smiling at him. Yeah, he’d somehow scared those wolves away that night, but they were probably just caught off-guard. She was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to fight off a bear though, should one happen upon them.

He crouched to help her with her shoes and then slid her socks off, and she unbuckled her belt, letting her trousers pool at her feet while he was still down there. Harry fought off a smile before standing up again and helping her to step out of her pants and tried for her sake not to ogle at her almost naked body.

“You’re not planning on swimming in those, are you?” she tried to keep her voice steady.

“I’m not, just not in the habit of, uhm… wearing underwear.”

Y/N felt her throat go dry, “What, like, ever? You just go commando?”

Harry kicked his chelsea boots off, “Yeah.”

“Isn’t that… uncomfortable?”

“It’s just a preference,” he shrugged, “Consider that a heads up.”

He then undid his fly and she barely had time to look away before she heard him discard the skinny jeans.

Harry scoffed, “Nothing that you haven’t seen before, sweetheart.”

“I was caught off-guard that first time!” she defended.

“Yeah- only took you the amount it took me to get to the shore to figure out I was naked, hm? I don’t mind it, obviously. Are you gonna keep all that on?”

She slowly turned to face him again, making sure her gaze only met his, “Yes. Shall we?”

He nodded “Are you alright with me carrying you like this?” he gestured to himself, referencing his state of undress.

“Yeah…” her voice was small but she was determined this wasn’t going to be an issue. It wasn’t an issue. He was right, she’d already seen him naked. Would a pair of boxers really have made that big of a difference?

…Probably yes, but it was too late now to back out of it. It wasn’t making her uncomfortable, in truth, just very shy, and she didn’t want to appear weak or silly in front of him. She didn’t want him knowing the level of effect he had on her.

She let him take her into his arms and walk them into the water. When the soles of her feet first touched the cold surface, she flinched, pulling away, and contracted her muscles which of course made her cry out in pain a bit.

Harry cursed at himself for having overlooked that. There was only one way to cut her suffering short though- and that was submerging the both of them fully into the water now that it had gotten past his middle- it was deep enough.

Resurfacing, Y/N wriggled her way out of his hold. He’d propelled them deeper and now they were deep enough for her to float. She splashed water at him, inhaling sharply through her mouth and panting heavily, “You jerk! Why’d you do that for?!”

“You were hurting your foot– this was the fastest way to get your body accustomed to the difference in temperature!”

“Couldn’t you at least warn me?! Hey, Y/N, hold your breath in for a sec?”

Harry threw his head back, laughing, “I don’t sound like that!” He splashed water back at her for mocking his English accent.

Y/N was momentarily frozen into place taking in the sight of him laughing with his whole body. It left her breathless, more than she already was. She averted her eyes when he looked back at her running his fingers through his wet hair, slicking it back.

Floating on her back, she allowed herself to calm down and enjoy the feeling of being weightless, something that was downright therapeutic for her injured foot, “This feels amazing.”

Harry just looked at her, taking her all in. She looked at ease, and he was happy for it. He was also glad to have her scent watered down a bit. It was driving him wild. He didn’t know how he was going to drive her all the way back home.

They both swam for a bit, and Y/N took note of his technique. He was a natural. Surely he must’ve done this his whole life. He moved in the water seamlessly. The sun had gone down and the moon was up in the sky, with stars slowly coming into view as well the darker it got.

She floated on her back again, taking in the view she so rarely got to see from inside the water. The sound of crickets and frogs were getting louder and louder, and Y/N felt her batteries recharge. She’d missed being out in nature, even though she's been cooped up in the station office for just a few days. She glanced over to her side and noticed it had actually gotten much darker than she realized. She could barely see the outline of Harry’s profile, illuminated by the moon, as he floated on his back near her. Somehow, as though he’d sensed her looking, he turned his face to the side to meet her gaze.

“Getting cold?” he murmured.

She nodded, submerging herself up to her torso, her toes touching the floor of the lake if she wanted, “A bit, yeah. I don’t want to go, though…”

He mirrored her actions and got closer to her. His skin glistened in the moonlight, and his eyes seemed all the more brighter. She could never get over his eyes. They were mesmerizing. She hadn’t even had the presence of mind to realize that he’d brought his arms around her until she took note of how closely she could look into his eyes. He was holding her close to his body. Impossibly close.

“Better?”

Y/N nodded slowly, not sure what to do or say next. She could hear the water droplets break the surface of the water as they rolled from off of his face, that’s how close they were. Could hear him breathing.

She brought her hands over his pecs, tracing the outlines of the swallows tattooed on each side, then rested her palms flat against them, “You’re so warm…”

He was seemingly emanating warmth. Her own hands were cold as ice against his skin. She looked back into his eyes, ungluing her own from her palms resting over the tattoos. Then her gaze inadvertently dropped to his mouth, and she wondered whether his lips would be just as warm. As if reading her mind, his tongue peeked between them, wetting his lips, and she glanced back into his eyes. But his were focusing on her own mouth, his lids heavy and his breathing a bit shallower. His heart beating a bit faster under her palm- or was she just imagining it all? She couldn’t break away from under the gravity of the moment to be able to tell. She felt as though she was in a trance.

She felt his fingers squeeze at her midsection a bit, pressing her even closer to him, flush against his body, and she gasped feeling him poke into her abdomen in doing so.

“Are you going to keep these on when you get dressed? You’re going to soak your clothes…”

His voice was deep, yet quiet. Barely above a whisper. It sent shivers through her body, and not because she was cold anymore. In fact, she felt as though she was on fire.

“I… I suppose not.”

Harry was teasing her a bit for not having foreseen having to take off her underwear anyway- but the reaction he got out of her was much better than he could’ve ever anticipated.

Without taking her eyes off his, she bent her arms so that she could reach the clasp at the back, unhooking her bra and peeling it off, throwing it into the water without a care. The top of her breasts were barely breaking surface, her nipples still obscured from his view, but Harry’s mouth fell open at her brazen act. His hands wandered further up her body, until his thumbs reached the undersides of her breasts, thumbing at the curve of them there, back and forth, ever so slightly.

She allowed herself to let her hands travel further as well, the tips of her fingers reaching underneath his wet curls at the nape of his neck. In doing so, she’d pushed her body slightly higher up in the water, her torso emerging from underneath the surface completely.

His hands went under her bum on instinct, supporting her fully, bringing her eye level to him, and her legs went around his torso, his hardened cock now pressing into the underside of her left thigh. She couldn’t help but card her fingers through his hair, their noses coming into contact, him tracing the tip of his around hers until tilting his head sufficiently to the side and capturing her lips between his. He sunk his fingers into her fleshy bum when she opened up her mouth and invited his tongue in with a breathy moan.

The moment his lips met hers he was changed. Her soft mouth and wet tongue tasted and felt even better than he’d imagined, and he’d certainly imagined it. And her sweet moan would have made him weak in the knees if he were standing on land. He’d never felt anything so hot and intimate in his life. A part of himself knew that once he kissed her he’d be unable to stop pursuing her. He was already obsessed. But the feel of her fingers in his hair, her plush thighs wrapped around his middle, the way she slid her tongue against his and sipped at the tip when she closed her mouth around it… he could barely hold it together. This had just gone beyond obsession.

He wanted to bring her to the shore and show her what else his mouth and tongue could do. Hear more of her little moans and whimpers as he satisfied his hunger for her.

With his fingers digging into her bottom he pulled her in closer and felt the skin of her thigh pressed hard into his prick. She gasped at the feel of it and he smiled into the kiss. His own heart was pounding so hard he could hear it. He wished that she wasn’t wearing underwear so he could press himself to her center, just to feel the heat, the slippery mess he knew must be leaking out into her panties.

Keeping hold of her bum on one side with one hand, he slowly moved the other upward, over her ribs, and ghosted the underside of her breast again, needing another feel. He really wanted to lay her flat on her back and knead them in his hands and then flip her to her tummy and do the same with her bottom before stuffing his face into the fragrant warmth between her thighs.

Another moan fell from her lips and Harry parted from her with a gasp. Both of their chests rising and falling quickly. With his forehead leaning against hers, Harry kept his eyes closed because he was certain they were glowing golden with how worked up he’d gotten. He would have continued kissing her all night but he could feel her shivering, despite his own warmth surrounding her. He needed to get her out of the cold water. And he needed to calm himself with a few deep breaths.

“Let’s get you out and dried off so you can warm up,” Harry whispered softly so as to not break the delicate moment. He held her close so she couldn’t see his eyes as he brought them both out of the water, going a little slower than he normally would to give his body and his wolf time to settle.

With his hands releasing her thighs he gently placed her down, unable to deny himself from the briefest glance at her bare breasts before quickly looking back into her eyes. He couldn’t look at her body for too long or he’d start to lose it again.

He quickly bent to her pile of clothing and went for her shirt to bring it to her, but before he could straighten back up, she threw her drenched panties right under his nose.

Harry tried to keep his composure, making sure to keep his eyes on hers as he approached her again, placing her shirt over her shoulders, and then running his own hands up and down her frame to warm her up.

Y/N melted at his affectionate gesture, especially after throwing her panties over to him like that. She expected him to look at her hungrily, maybe even try for more, but his priority was getting her warm. And she was getting warm. From the inside out.

He bent to get her pants next, while she shrugged her arms into the shirt properly, buttoning it up. He crouched in front of her the same way he’d helped her take them off, and she placed one hand on his shoulder for stability, noting how he was keeping his eyes firmly on her feet, gently helping her by bringing the material up her legs and when he reached the hem of her shirt he sat up straight, looking her right in the eyes again.

She tucked it into the trousers and secured her belt while he retrieved his own pants. She wished she could extend him the same courtesy but she wasn’t as strong as he was. Not only that, it was hard to miss.

Y/N already knew that his dick, even in just its flaccid state, was more sizable than any man she’d seen before but she was not quite prepared for its aroused state. Watching him move with his fully erect cock, heavy and swaying under its weight had her clenching and squeezing her thighs together involuntarily. She imagined the way it felt so hard and thick under her thigh when they were in the water. It made her palms sweat just knowing that that had just been pressed against her body.

She watched with labored breathing as he winced with a scowl, trying to tuck his erection into those skinny jeans of his. Which proved to be an issue when he had been unable to button his pants, his thick crown was pushing out over the top of the waistband of his jeans in a teasing call. Her mouth dropped open. Maybe that’s why he preferred going commando. Perhaps it was out of necessity more than preference given that it seemed unlikely anything could contain him.

He next bent to pick up his own shirt and on his way back up, he halted, taking her in. Her shirt had clung onto her damp body, the outlines of her breasts still deliciously visible, her wet hair dripping over top and making the shirt even more see-through. He’d just seen her naked but this was just as enticing. Getting her clothes on had done nothing to dampen his desire for her.

Instead of putting his shirt back on, he decided to add another layer of warmth to the girl, placing it over her shoulders. She wasn’t shivering anymore, but he could tell she felt cold still, and he really didn’t need it. Looking at her engulfed in his much nicer, larger shirt, knowing his scent was going to cling onto her now and follow her into her bed that night made him even more feral. If nothing else, this would be the way he’d brand her as his in that moment. It was a far cry from what he actually wanted to do, but it was making him wild nonetheless. He imagined her swaddled into the nicest furs in his den, her skin just as damp but from sweat and their mixed juices, her body trembling from ecstasy, not cold.

He swiftly placed his hand around the front of her neck and pulled her in for a quick, wet kiss that had her feeling dizzy. She’d never had a man put his hands on her neck before and the way Harry had done it, so tenderly, and confidently would have her rethinking all of her favorite intimate experiences. Surely this one had just replaced them all for top spot. No, it most definitely had.

His hand lingered on her neck as he rested his forehead against hers, and rubbed the tip of his nose to hers, trying to collect himself once more, “We need to leave before I lose my senses completely, Y/N. You don’t know how much it’s taking me to keep from doing unspeakable things to you right now. And you’d let me, wouldn’t you?”

His voice was low and he’d even added a slight squeeze around her throat at the end there, for emphasis. It almost rendered Y/N unconscious, but not for lack of airflow. She felt like she was floating. Her voice came out small and shaky with need, “Please.”

Harry squeezed his eyes shut, exhaling deeply through his nose and forcing himself to push his body away from hers. He didn’t trust his hand around her fragile neck with the state he was in, he didn’t trust his hands on her body at all, or even himself in her proximity. He wanted to devour her.

“Careful what you ask for, sweetheart.”

Chapter 6

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theresattrpgforthat · 3 months

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I'd be interested in any dieselpunk or clockpunk recommendations you have, particularly if you play as some sort of inventor.

Theme: Clockpunk & Dieselpunk

Hello friend, I’ve got a decent number of Clockpunk or Dieselpunk settings, and while I think there might be be individual character options that allow you to play something of an inventor, I don’t think there’s anything in which you solely play as inventors. Perhaps some of my followers know of some though!

Tomorrow City, by Osprey Publishing.

Tomorrow City was one of the cities of the future, built to usher in a new age of prosperity, seizing upon scientific achievements at the dawn of the twentieth century. Then came the War. Radium-powered soldiers assembled, diesel-fuelled nightmares rolled off production lines, city fought city, and the world burned in atomic fire.

Tomorrow City still stands, an oil-stained beacon of hope, part-refuge, part-asylum. Beset by dangers from both within and without, a secret war now rages on its streets. Diesel-born monstrosities stalk the alleyways, air pirates strike from the wastelands, mad scientists continue their dark work, occultists manipulate the city’s strange geometry, and secret societies plot in the shadows.

Tomorrow City is a roleplaying game of dark science and dieselpunk action. Swift and simple character creation and an easy-to-learn dice pool system places the emphasis on unique personalities and the momentum of the plot. Join the Underground and fight the crime and corruption at the heart of the city. Sell your dieselpunk tech, occult knowledge, and sheer grit as troubleshooters for mysterious paymasters. Hunt down spies, saboteurs, and science-run-amok. As weary sky rangers, fringe scientists, and radium-powered veterans, you might be all that stands between a better tomorrow and no tomorrow at all.

This is a game that pools together your positive and negative character tags, has you roll for both and aim to come out on top. Gear is very important here, and acts as a great vehicle for communicating the kind of world that you’re living in. I don’t own this game so I can’t speak to much more than that, but if there is a big focus on gear, I’d assume that having a character that can create that gear or make it better would be fairly easy to make in this game.

Age of Steel, by Isolation Games.

Age of Steel is a dieselpunk roleplaying game set in the world of Neres; a world not unlike our own in the first few decades of the 20th century. Neres has just emerged from its first global conflict; the ‘Great War’ in which hundreds of thousands of men and women died in the mud and horror of the trenches.

Technology in Neres has taken a slightly different route to our own world; personal mecha powered by diesel engines are used for numerous applications from war to common labour; huge airships ply the airways; bipedal automata act as servants for the rich and gadgeteer inventors construct homemade ray-guns in their basement laboratories.

In the wake of the Great War, Neres is a hotbed of political scheming and economic growth. Industry and commerce have come to rule the world which, thanks to the airship, aeroplane and radio is rapidly becoming smaller. Little do the majority of people know but an ancient evil is at the heart of the conflict in their world. Eldritch monstrosities from before the dawn of time seek to unmake reality, aided by cults of insane worshippers. Into this world come the heroes -the players- who are the only thing standing between the cosmic evil and all that they hold dear.

Age of Steel uses d6s as the base for their rules, and characters are built using a point-buy system, meaning that instead of character classes, you can custom-design your character as you see fit. I think that since everything about your character is customizable, there may be some options that would help you construct an inventor-like character.

One piece of your character is your backgrounds - that is, what assets your character has to pull from as they play. Some of these assets include Cash, a Job, a Reputation, and a Personal Vehicle. Since the release of the base game, the designer has also added a free supplement called Better Backgorunds, which also includes some more character options when it comes to assets.

Steel Horizons, by Wandering Pilgrim Games.

Steel Horizons is a Dieselpunk TTRPG set on the continent of Algara. It has been 43 years since the discovery of the powerful mineral, Pyricium, which jumpstarted technology ahead decades and began the 3rd Age.

In this new world, the nations of Algara have barely survived the Great War, fought over the precious Pyricium deposits, and now seek to rebuild themselves even greater than before with the might of their technologies and cultural advancements. Using the combined power of diesel fuel, pyric energy, and the brute strength of man, the world presses ever forward.

You play as a Wanderer, a traveller making their way across the land in search of their own legacy. By choosing your own Archetype and customizable Background, you can create the Wanderer you want to tell the best story!

This is a custom system that uses d12’s for all of your rolls. While Steel Horizons is meant to be a complete setting, the creator’s overarching goal appears to be a core set of rules that can be used in a number of different settings. Currently there’s the Quickstart Guide (linked in title) that is meant to bring you through character creation and gives you some example encounters, but you can also get the Lore Keeper Codex for the Hydra System, which is the base rules without setting details, as well as the Player’s Guide, which introduces new character options for you to play with.

Clocks and Punks, by Ikari.

You are misfits in the mega city Meccavena, dwelling in your precious hideout, the Sanctuary, looking for your next gig. Your gang leader, Archelle, has dosed into an endless sleep after she stole the Anomaly Device from the Clockmaker's tower. Now, it's your job to regroup and explore that crazy, conspiracy-infused, clockwork powered city, and maybe find a way to wake Archelle up!

Clocks and Punks is a rules-light, clockpunk inspired hack on the Lasers and Feelings RPG by John Harper. As is the standard for games of this type, your characters will enter play with a goal already in mind, but how they decide to go about achieving that goal is up to them.

If you want to create an inventor character you certainly can - there are Artificer and Alchemist roles that might fit that niche, and you can create a character goal that encourages you to create or invent. You can also make your character better at CLOCK tasks, giving them an advantage when performing tasks that require precision or technical aptitude.

This game is best for a group that wants a short session, or minimal bookkeeping. It’s probably also easier to run if you have experience playing ttrpgs before, just because there’s not a lot of room for GM guidance on a single page,

Flying Fortress, by Planet Gnome.

Flying Fortress is a trifold pamphlet RPG about pulp adventure, diesel punks, and airship pirates.

This is a hack of Into the Odd and Electric Bastionland by Chris McDowall, and should be compatible with any other Mark of the Odd games.

What I really enjoy about pamphlet games is that they provide a lot of neatly organized information that is easy to navigate. This game has your character sheet on one tab, rules on another, gear on another, and then information on the back for the person running the game - things like potential enemies, factions, and roll tables. There’s no particular inventor role per se, but there are Aristocrat and Mechanic options that I think you could tailor to be more about invention if you wish.

The biggest downside to this game is that it dedicates all of its space to game info, and leaves no room for world-building, so the setting you place yourself in is going to have to be crafted whole-cloth by the play group. Then again, if your GM is a natural world-builder, maybe that’s an asset rather than a downside!

Goblins in Shadow, by Color Spray Games.

GOBLINS IN SHADOW is a roleplaying game about goblin resistance and revolution in an age of elven oppression. It’s a world of clockwork and magic, of smoke and shadow.

Players will take on the roles of a cell of goblin revolutionaries, working to undermine the elves and humans who have conquered their homeland and built an empire on its corpse. They’ll advance their goals by taking on scores, missions that gather sympathy for their cause or take direct action against their oppressors, ending in a final attempt to assassinate one of the elven ministers ruling the city. To do that, they’ll need to avoid being caught by the Watch or the Hounds, the elite special police of the city; they’ll also need to balance their obligations to the various factions of the city, as well as their own personal obligations.

The rule of elves will be broken by goblins in shadow.

As a Forged in the Dark game, this will likely be familiar to anyone who has played Blades or similar games. The core of this game is about combat, and the setting around it is clockwork. If you want to play an inventor type character, there looks to be a playbook called The Hand, equipped for sabotage and front-lines engineering. Just through skimming the playbooks I feel like a lot of pieces of the world around you are baked into your playbooks - for example, the Hand might have been branded by an entropic form of goblin magic that allows you to invoke rapid decay or drain life. Now that’s evocative!

#tabletop games #indie ttrpgs #game recommendations #dnd #asks #dieselpunk #clockpunk

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genshin-impacted · 1 year

Text

three ways to say goodbye

Never once does Alhaitham ever say the words ‘good-bye.’ (And one time he doesn’t need to.) OR You die in four three different ways; Alhaitham deals with your death differently each time.

Word Count: ~3.5k (one shot)

Notes: Alhaitham x Reader (3+1 fic), gender-neutral reader, Alhaitham POV, major character death(s) (you), ANGST, mainly hurt with comfort at the end, exploratory fic on how Alhaitham deals with grief & death-- his devotion, each part has specific notes

[anticlimatic]

notes: slight description of dead body (you), blood, ambiguous relationship status; implied roommates with Kaveh and Alhaitham, could be ot3 if you squint, mild profanity

Your death came without warning, without rhyme or reason. It doesn't make sense for you to die here, your potential on the brink of being fully realized, your journey cut abruptly before it has even started. As a narrative, your death is almost anticlimactic, unpredictable and hidden away in the forests of Sumeru where the rangers found you, body broken and eyes closed forever. Your wings must have failed you midflight, plummeting you down to the ground without a safety net. If there were any signs of foul play, it is hard to tell; there is so much blood to wash off of you.

Tighnari was the one to set your limbs straight to make you look more comfortable, and Cyno was the one to tell Alhaitham to come and identify your body.

It's only a formality at this point. Cyno and Tighnari-- Alhaitham thinks they would not have let Collei see your body, bruised as it is-- would have been ample identification checks. They know you well, consider you a friend. It may also be a sort of mercy from Cyno to inform Alhaitham of what has happened so he can be one of the first to know, the first to see you.

They know Alhaitham was more important to you than any of them-- Alhaitham included-- could truly understand. So, of course, it is Alhaitham who gets to know first.

Cyno peels back the cover from your head. It must be the least injured part of your body because the only tell-tale sign that you are dead is the stillness of your face. You are the most animated person he knows, even if you aren't aware of it. You constantly move your eyes to see the world for what it is, lips always upturned subconsciously, though Alhaitham can remember the days when you went without for quite some time. It was a trying period for you, but your smile came back eventually, and all felt right in the world.

Alhaitham knows it will not come back this time.

"It's them," he says, though you look far from the person you were when you were still alive. "Where will the body be stored?"

"The Sumeru morgue," Cyno replies. He pauses. "Will you-"

"They have no family. No next of kin." Alhaitham says, "I will arrange their funeral."

Cyno only nods, and Alhaitham watches as he goes to cover your face up with a foreboding sense of dread he cannot place. Cyno does not apologize to Alhaitham for his loss. Neither of them is the type to placate others even in their grief. As for "his" loss? Certainly not just his. You were well loved, a bud in bloom among the vines of the Akademiya with your reputation built from the soil up. Those that knew you will mourn.

Yes, Alhaitham is in mourning, right now, isn't he? Everyone else believes it to be so. Tighnari tells him ‘my condolences' even though his own face is tight with regret, as though he could have single handedly prevented this from happening. He doesn't see Collei but perhaps that is telling enough of her grief. Cyno tells him that he will let Dehya and Candace know, and Alhaitham can only nod in agreement.

Alhaitham thinks he knows the reason for the dread when he comes home and Kaveh is there. His roommate has been pacing around in the living room, Alhaitham can tell. Without either you or Alhaitham present, Kaveh was worried but trying not to think of the worst-case scenario. Alhaitham has to be the one to break the news to him of the worst-case scenario, and he braces himself for the torrent.

If Alhaitham is the person who knows you best, then Kaveh is right behind him. Your death will devastate Kaveh, even if Kaveh does not know it yet.

"You're lying," Kaveh tells him. His face is as impassive as Alhaitham has ever seen. "You're lying to me, and it's not fucking funny-"

"I’m not lying," Alhaitham says. When Kaveh opens his mouth to argue, spit vitriol, call him a liar again, Alhaitham feels his own temper rise, and for a twisted moment, it almost feels familiar, him and Kaveh at each other's throats, except they've never argued over something as serious as this. "I wouldn’t lie about this. And you know it."

Alhaitham expects it to escalate. Kaveh will raise his voice and Alhaitham will too, both of them feeding their animosity into each other like they have never done since their Akademiya days. Even their latest bickering is nothing, and with you added into the mix, it becomes even less than that-- more eye rolls and snarky remarks than anything close to an argument.

But you're gone. So everything is different now, even if no one wants it to be. And when Kaveh's lips begin to tremble, his face falling upon the realization that oh god, Alhaitham is telling the truth, Alhaitham realizes something too. Telling Kaveh about your death was worthy of dread, but the thought that nothing will ever be the same with you gone, makes the foreboding feeling gape and widen.

He will pass by Lambad's Tavern and walk in, expecting you to be there at the third seat of the bar, writing your essay, but you will not. He will sit at the table nearest the window in the House of Daena and read while waiting for you to come and ask him to find a book, but you will not. He will walk home, noise canceling headphones off despite the bustle of the city, because he expects you to come up from behind him, hoping to surprise him for once, but you will never come. He will enter an empty home, quiet and devoid of sound, and instead of being relieved, he will only feel the same heavy dread, knowing you will never come home again.

Alhaitham never said he loved you aloud, and now he never will. Did you know anyways? Without him telling you, did you know that he loved you? Through the way he believed in you, the way he said your name, the times he's helped you, eaten with you, let you sleep on his shoulder and in his bed when you were tired. You knew him best, cherished him more than he could understand. Did you know he loved you like you loved him?

The unspoken questions, the unsaid words. As abrupt your death is, it is permanent, and Alhaitham will have to live life knowing there is an empty space where you once were that will never be filled again.

[stay]

notes: slight description of dead body (you), blood, established relationship

Alhaitham cannot control things that are beyond his abilities to do so. The heavenly principles are far beyond him, beyond even the archons themselves, so it only makes sense that the events that transpire involving them are out of his control.

This upsets him less than most people would think. He's a thinker, calculating each of his steps before implementing them, so it would make sense when he can’t plan out every step of the way. People would be right to an extent, but Alhaitham is logical enough to understand there is no use trying to change something that he cannot. And why waste time being upset over that when he can focus on the things he can control?

Only… he is human, and even he miscalculates. When he thinks of the things within his power to control, he thinks about your happiness, his ability to make you laugh and blush, the ways he can keep you safe. He did not anticipate, as he holds your hands slick from your own blood, that your safety is beyond his control.

"Let me stop the bleeding," Alhaitham tells you, scanning his surroundings for anything he can to help him staunch your wound. You look at him, breathing shallow, his grip not once faltering even as you seem to lose the strength to hold onto him. "Don't fall asleep. Keep looking at me. I'll use my cape for now-"

"Alhaitham."

"I’ll lift your body up," he says, clicking his tongue when his hands slip from under you with the blood. "Tie this around you for now. The Traveler wasn't far from here-"

"Haitham."

"-even Paimon can help carry your legs if you can't walk anymore. I know she can-" Alhaitham stops when you start to push his hands away from your abdomen where the bleeding is most heavy. "What are you doing?"

"Can you," you begin to say, rasping these words as though it is taking every breath to speak, "can you just hold me? Haitham."

Alhaitham shakes his head. "I’ll hold you later.” He tells you, swallowing thickly as you look into his eyes as though searching for something. The next words makes his mouth dry, but he must say it. He must try. “I promise. I have to do this-"

"I can tell I'm not gonna make it."

Alhaitham shifts his legs under him and feels his knees soak in blood.

"Respectfully," Alhaitham says icily, "you may be more well versed with medicine than me, but you aren't at full capacity right now to judge accurately."

You laugh at this. Alhaitham doesn't see how any of this could be funny to you. He doesn't understand you. He never has. But, oh, he wishes he does; wishes he had all the time in the world to get to understand you more.

He feels your hand paw at his wrist, your fingers cold as ice.

You shake your head so slowly, and the smile you give him blooms just as slowly as the Padisarah flower he gave you last week. Your smile is no less beautiful though, no less bright despite it all.

"Maybe." You sigh. "But I’d like for you to hold me anyways. Please?" You say, "I feel so cold."

Alhaitham swallows his protests, because in the end, it is logic that will always win against all else: there is a low percentage that any help will arrive, and Alhaitham cannot do anything to save you.

“Okay,” he says quietly, gathering you up into his arms. Strong as he is, he is so gentle with the way he brings your head to rest against his shoulders, bringing your legs over his lap so he can cradle your body against his to share the warmth. He hears you sigh in relief, though he doubts it’s because you feel any warmer. It is purely comfort that he is providing, until the end.

For the first time since his youth, Alhaitham feels helpless.

“Your eyes are so pretty,” you tell him, words slurring. He lets out a huff of laughter– he feels delirious almost– that is shakier than usual, taking your cold hands and kissing your fingers as though it could bring it some semblance of warmth. “Lots of colors.”

‘Thanks,’ he could say dryly, like he always does. ‘I think I might like yours better,’ he could say; it would get a laugh out of you, and isn’t that what he always wants for you? ‘I love you’ would work too; it always works when it’s you.

Alhaitham opens his mouth to reply, but instead of anything he has planned, he says to you instead with all the desperation in his heart, “Please stay.”

“I love you,” you tell him instead; you always made it sound so easy to say.

In the aftermath, when the dust has settled and those who have not toppled remain, Kaveh finds Alhaitham hours after your death, cradling your body, his face buried into your neck.

[anticipatory]

notes: next two parts have the same back story- you have a leyline curse similar to Dainsleif; some fluff here! established relationship

“How long,” you ask as you lie in bed with him, “do you think I have?”

Alhaitham’s hand stops tracing lines on your back over the curse marks that paint your skin abyss blue. It’s not an unfamiliar question. You ask every once in a while, because you can’t see the progression of the ley line curse on your back, so you rely on him to tell you how far it’s spread.

Based on the growth, which only seems to go faster by the day, Alhaitham calculates you have about another year before it consumes your entire body.

Only six months ago it was invisible to the naked eye. Tonight, the blues spread outward like butterfly wings from the middle of your spine to reach your shoulders. You’ve already stopped wearing sleeveless shirts to cover the marks, but when they go past your neck or onto your hands, it’ll be difficult to justify wearing turtlenecks and gloves all the time while in Sumeru.

“Let’s take a vacation to Shnezhnaya at the end of the year,” Alhaitham says instead. “I have three months worth of sick days and breaks.”

You pause for a moment before letting him guide the conversation away. “Isn’t one of their main cuisines soup dishes? Borscht or something like that.” He hears you say, amused. “You hate soups.”

“It makes it difficult to read,” he explains, tracing lines into your back again. You sigh in contentment as he spreads the expanse of his palm along your shoulders, memorizing the abyssal stars that align along the path he makes. “I can deal with it for a little bit. I can cook something else while we’re there.”

You’re quiet for a little bit, breathing even and steady that Alhaitham thinks you’ve fallen asleep while he was memorizing the dips and curves of your body. You shift when he lifts the blanket up higher over you. He can hear you swallow audibly as though readying yourself to say something, probably to redirect the conversation back to your initial question, he suspects. Before he can say anything, you say with a voice as equally shaky as it is steady, “I’m sorry.”

Alhaitham’s heart stops. “Why are you apologizing?” He asks as calmly as ever when you do not answer, “Because I’ll have to cook on vacation? Not really that an inconvenience, isn’t it? I’m assuming we’ll split the responsibility.”

No answer.

“I wasn’t going to use the vacation dates anyways,” he continues. “And I hardly get sick. Though now that we’re talking about it, three months in one place is a long time. Perhaps we should consider traveling-”

Then he sees you crumble before his eyes, shoulders shaking, face burying into your hands as you start to cry.

Experienced at loving you now, Alhaitham is quick to bring you close. Lucky enough for him, you still melt against him, welcoming his embrace as he coaxes you to turn his way and bury yourself into his nape instead of your hands. He can still hear your apologies mixed between the gasps of air you take, your tears seemingly unending. He holds you steady, voice calm even though his heart is leaping in his chest as it always does when you are upset.

“What’s wrong?” he says, voice hushed. And like every other time you are upset, he asks you, "What can I do to fix it?”

“I don’t-” you say, voice cracking, “I don’t want to leave you.”

“...You don’t know that you will,” Alhaitham says. And it’s true. Neither of you know what will happen for certain. A lone blond traveler with a curse similar to you had passed by and told him of his eventual fate, and you had likened it to your own. But there’s no proof proving the two of you are the same, though it can’t be said that there is no connection between your fates at all.

“How long do you think I have?” You ask again, and he knows he cannot hide it from you any longer.

“A year at most,” he says. Your eyelashes brush by his collarbone when you close your eyes shut. He stops you before your thoughts can even form. “I am not leaving you.” He scoffs and you make a noise of indignation. “Don’t even think about saying something like that.”

“You didn’t let me say anything yet,” he hears you grumble, and he lets a huff of laughter out at the sound of your petulant voice.

“Do you really think I would do something if I didn’t want to?” Alhaitham says dryly, “And what’s the thought process behind me leaving you before you can leave me? I’d love to know.” When you are quiet, he continues softly, “Do you think I am that fragile to fall apart when you are gone?”

“...No,” you say finally. “But I think you underestimate how strongly you feel.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah, really,” you say, and your voice is light again, as it always is when you talk about how much you love him. “‘Cause I know better. How much you really feel, even if your face is… like that.”

“Like what,” Alhaitham says bluntly. When you only laugh into his shoulder, he can’t help but smile with you.

If Alhaitham could describe it, it feels like the longest goodbye. ‘Live every moment like it’s your last’ becomes the mantra between the two of you, though neither of you has said those exact words out loud. You love in abundance, laugh in abundance, bicker in full as though you are trying to live out the rest of your lives in one year.

The day Alhaitham takes you to the snowy lands of Snezhnaya is sooner than later, the scarves and gloves worn more days than not. As promised, you two do share the cooking duties for those months, getting cozy by the fireplace and learning how to icefish from the locals. He learns how to barter with the merchants there and commissions the two of you rings to wear. Though he never sees you wear it outside, he can always feel the ring when he holds your gloved hands. He thinks you never take it off.

When Alhaitham returns from Snezhnaya, he comes home alone with nothing but a golden band on his ring finger. The people that know him know better than to ask.

[priorities]

notes: connected background as previous but different ending; fluff! established relationship; happy end

Alhaitham has always been the type to stay in the background. People might be inclined to call him the ‘mastermind’ but that’s giving him too much credit considering how much he wants to remain unknown and unperceived. But he supposes having a hand in toppling the heavenly principles and destroying the castle in the sky and being unrecognized is asking for too much.

“You’re an… interesting guy,” you tell him, a few days after the climactic battle which, fortunately, neither of you had to have a large part in. (Well, there was that key role for you… and another for him, but that is neither here nor there.) You snicker into your hand when he shoots you a strange look.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Alhaitham asks, and before he can continue his retort, you are sitting on his lap even though the two of you are supposed to both be on bedrest, in separate beds. Tighnari is going to kill them if he finds them now that he knows neither of you are going to die any time soon.

“It means you’re an interesting guy,” you say. “The first thing you tell me is that you hate involving yourself into tedious things. And then you get yourself into making strategies to take down literal gods, which sounds pretty tedious to me.”

Your smile is beautific when you look at him, your arms finding their way around his neck and legs over his lap. Instinctively, he puts a hand around your back and holds onto your legs so you don’t fall. He takes a peek at your back and sees that the abyssal blue has not moved a single centimeter beyond your shoulder blades. He knows that was what was calculated, but still, he breathes a sigh of relief upon its confirmation.

“I always make a basic list of pros and cons for a plan,” Alhaitham says. “I just deemed overthrowing gods to be less tedious than the alternative outcome.”

“And what could possibly be more tedious than overthrowing a literal god?” You laugh, looking up at him as though he hung the moon and stars. He thinks if he hung the moon and stars, then you must be the one holding up the sun in the sky.

“Losing you,” Alhaitham says simply. “I’d prefer not to imagine a life without you in it, so I made sure that a life with you would happen.”

Alhaitham knows you are smart enough to know what he was going to say, but you seem surprised anyways, eyes wide and tears welling up at his admission. Perhaps some time ago, Alhaitham would not have believed it would have ever been worth upheaving his life for the sake of another person. But Alhaitham has never been one for halves; the moment he decided to have you in his life, then there was no other option for him.

“I love you,” you say, and he thinks overthrowing gods is an easy choice to make if three words is enough to make him feel this happy, if your arms around him is enough to make him content.

He’s said it before, and he’ll say it again– it’s only a matter of priorities. You just happen to be right on top of that list.

#alhaitham x reader #genshin impact x reader #al haitham x reader #alhaitham #i think this may be my first genshin angst fic #like the fact some of these parts dont end happily? crazy for me #OFF BRAND i would say #couldnt resist adding a happy part tho :)

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