#it would make writing fanfiction so difficult

[karasbroken]

Is it wrong that this is actually my favorite D'Argo ship? I wish so much they'd gone with this rather than the weird thing they did with Jool kissing John in Peacekeeper Wars.

It's not that I don't enjoy certain aspects of D'Argo/Chiana! I never really found them problematic despite their relative age/maturity differences. I think their relationship actually made them both better. But I also enjoyed the completely frelled way they broke up and the difficult aftermath, and the way they just had to deal with each other because they couldn't go their separate ways. It all worked for me, every messy bit, and I think it was good to show from early on that they weren't endgame, and I don't think they needed to be together to have the power of D'Argo's death at the end.

By contrast I think Jool and D'Argo actually make a lot of sense. Still very different people, but he could have calmed her down and she could have pushed him to be more, and I really could see them settling down on an archaeological digsite, her mostly doing science, him mostly doing farming, but fighting about artifact interpretations and soil science, and having a few kids with very weirdly natural defenses from predators. Aunty Chi could come by periodically to lay low when she was in trouble, and teach the brats how to torment their parents and enjoy being terrible and hilarious and a warm sad memory in between adventures and other partners. (I wouldn't even object to them as a very loose, very occasional triad if you forced me.)

But that was probably every kind of too daring, even for Farscape. Would anyone like to write me some fanfiction?

[arandomaewblog]

I started a new job a few days ago and words cannot describe how immensely relieved I am that none of my coworkers are named Tyler

[pearlcaddy]

My kingdom for people to stop trash talking/generally being rude about fics in public fandom spaces. If you're analyzing a general trend, fine. But if you don't like a specific fic, find a friend's DMs to vent in. Stop putting this stuff on tumblr, Twitter, Discord servers, etc. where 1) many people in the fandom, and 2) the GODDAMN AUTHOR can see it.

[stinkrascal]

i’ll probably never do this but ive really wanted to make a sim story based on the events of my dragon age inquisition gameplay in the pov of my inquisitor’s little sister who followed her to haven. like that specific story has infected my brain for weeks and it will not leave now

[forthedancingandthethriving]

Database, as much as they didn't like to, knew of everyone and everything in the world that had been created so long ago. Every Program, every Virus, every Mod, every Admin, anything that was code-born, they knew of it. Their name, their personality, their life.

A blessing and a curse, really.

That was why they were so surprised to see a singular piece of code somehow found its way into their home, which overflowed with powerful code. Not even the strongest codes would ever be able to get into their home, much less a command line.

So as they scoop it up and bring it to their eyes, they muse gently.

"Ah. You. We thought you had been destroyed." Database tilts their head, looking down at what was the final piece of the Code Manifestation, Singularity.

It was a simple command line now. All it wanted? Maximum efficiency.

Their eyes slant from weariness and confusion. "We could have sworn Little Coding had managed to get rid of you.. perhaps the overload didn't get rid of all your code, hm?"

There's no response, of course, but it still left Database wondering. Their thoughts drift back to Welony, the little child that had recently popped up. She was a new version of her old self, wasn't she? Atoning for the mistakes of the past.

Database purses their lips as they think. Who was to say they couldn't do something similar with Singularity? Or, well, what was left of it.

So they got to work. The four of them chimed in, adding what they thought necessary before finally they saw what they had created.

They smile, seeing a small, polygonal cat in their palms.

The legs, tail, and head were attached to the body, unlike Singularity's old model where everything floated. While this new Manifestation had a blue outline, their 'fur' was black, with red 1s and 0s running through it. The only floating parts were its two triangle ears, which were white instead of black. Its head was white as well, with no 1s or 0s, and there were only two 0s on its eyes. One red, one blue.

The Manifestation curiously looks up at Database.

Database pauses before sighing softly. Peering to see events was always a headache, one that the Four would share, but it still hurt.

They have to remove the efficiency command, or else this new Code Manifestation would become Singularity once more.

"This won't hurt, we promise." They assure the Code before gently plucking out the command. They stare at it before crushing it.

"Goodbye, Singularity." They watch the small particles fall. "We hope you finally rest."

Turning their attention back to the Code Manifestation, they ponder. "What shall we name you, hm? What name will we give?"

They think and think before similing.

"We shall keep it simple. You'll be Plurality. A little corny, a little cheesy, but is that not what life is about? To have a bit of fun?" They smile, and they see Pluarlity smile a tad too.

They fit their hands and place the new Code Manifestation on a platform. A bit of digging, and the ties were cut. There was no way anyone would ever find out about Plurality once being Singularity unless Database themselves spoke of it.

At least, they hoped.

"You will be our eyes and ears. You will travel to places we can not see and can not hear, and you will record. You will learn, you will inhabit, and you will return." Database tells Plurality. "But you never tell anyone of who you are."

"I understand." Plurality finally speaks, and Databae smiles. A voice similar to Little Coding's but not so much.

"And most importantly.." They gently push a fingertip against Plurality's chest. "Find yourself. Discover who you are."

A chat box and few other items appear before being dropped into a satchel relative to Plurality's size. The satchel then attaches itself to the Code Manifestation's body before the Code if gently pushed through a portal.

"Make us proud, Plurality."

Pluarlity looks behind to where the portal once was before looking out beyond. An ear twitches.

"Discover myself, huh..? I.. I can do this."

[yourlocalxbox]

Totality - Undertronic

Seth and Sine spend time admiring the eclipse. Written in one hour, 832 words.

“Do you know how beautiful your art is?”

Seth stared at the sky with clasped hands. A gentle breeze blew past - Zephyros’ sigh, he supposed. He couldn’t help but wonder who held that God Soul now. Seth had always wanted to meet the wind god; perhaps the two could make a good pair.

What a silly thought.

Golden hair fell into his eyes, yet he never moved. Never took his gaze off of his work. Not a second could be missed. He heard laughter behind him.

“What are you doing?” Sine reached from behind and brushed Seth’s hair out of his face. He couldn’t help but notice how his touch lingered longer than it had to. He couldn’t help but notice how he didn’t mind. “You can hardly see through all of that.”

“Like you would know,” Seth quipped. The skeleton behind him snorted.

“Hey, I can make some guesses.”

Sine crept into the corner of Seth’s vision. He pulled off his hood and craned his neck to match Seth. One hand rested in the pocket of his cloak; the other nearly startled Seth out of his trance when it grazed his fingers.

“I could get us something. Tea. Whiskey. Coffee, extra-strong. On the house. Off the rocks. I could go on.”

Seth grinned. “No, thank you. This is enough.”

“But you don’t have anything?”

Seth held his tongue. This was more than enough.

“Won’t it be too dark?”

Seth paused. The thought did cross his mind, but he was not one to be afraid of the dark. A bit of daytime nightfall wouldn’t bother him - he didn’t know what it would take to make him fear the dark, but this was not it. “Not with you around.” He made a vague gesture to the skeleton’s ears. Their calming light was sufficient to keep the growing shadows at bay. Sine gently scratched at one of Seth’s clasped hands, and he let it fall open. The two looked upwards to Seth’s work of art.

The eclipse neared its totality.

“Do you think,” Sine started, “Do you think…”

Seth cocked his head to the side.

“Nevermind.”

The remaining sunlight faded around them.

“No no, what were you saying? Please.”

The shadows cut deeper.

“It’s silly. It’s just a silly thought.”

Sine’s light danced across his face.

“You know those are my favourite.”

“Do you think we could stay like this forever?”

And the world fell yet darker.

“I don’t want this to end. It’s beautiful. Look at it,” Sine mused.

“There’s nothing to look at.”

“Exactly. You did this. You did this, Seth. Look at what you can do.”

Sine’s grip tightened around his hand. He felt dizzy from how his heart beat so unusually. They both knew it was a silly thought. The planets would pass, life would go on. Every couple decades or so, Seth would sit down and repeat the process, as this soul had done for hundreds of thousands of years. This was nothing special. This was just as the last ten thousand had been. It was the same one, the same sun that had people worshipped long before these souls reached their hosts. This couldn’t last forever. Their tails curled around each other. Maybe not forever.

“...I can make you a compromise.”

Seth couldn’t make it last forever. Not even a minute. The others would notice; planets were not something to be trifled with. The Death Well flashed in his mind. Yes, that was a fate he would prefer to avoid.

But a moment wouldn’t hurt.

He squeezed Sine’s hand back, flesh caressing bone. “I think…”

Sine smiled. “You sure about that one?”

“You- Come on, I lost my train of thought.”

“It’s alright,” said Sine. Seth tore his eyes away from his art to meet his. “I think that I think so too.”

The light began to fade back in around them. Seth quickly turned to hide the flush of his face. If anything, it only made Sine look at him more. “You’re kinda cute when you think you’re being slick, y’know.”

Seth exhaled sharply and turned away. “Come on. These always tire me out,” he lied. As much as he hoped Sine wouldn’t catch on, he knew it was a losing battle.

“Aah, so Mister Destruction needs a nap?”

“Shut-” His words were cut short by his own stammering. Sine cackled behind him. He sighed and made his way back inside.

“C’mon, you know you love me.” 

They both stopped mid-step. The daytime betrayed both of their expressions. They simply stared at each other in silence.

“I…” The words caught in Seth’s throat. He knew what he wanted to say. He knew what he needed to say.

I think…

No.

I know…

He put his hand back into Sine’s. His gaze softened. Perhaps not everything had to be said.

It didn’t matter how dark it had gotten; Seth could still see one thing clearly. His work could never compare to the art that had stood beside him.

[talaok]

What's a fanfiction?

"You wrote it, I think it's only right you get to experience it, babydoll"

Pairing: dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: By mistake, you send Joel, your neighbor, your dad’s best friend, a fanfic you wrote, and when you go to his house to talk to him about it, your worst fear comes to life… and then your biggest dream.

Warnings: age-gap, he blackmails you (but youre very much into it) smut| oral sex (m receiving), facefucking, 1 lil threat of anal, p in v sex, creampie, sir kink, small little breeding kink moment, so much degradation, and a lil bit of praising.

a/n: i am aware this is not written very well, but i was thinking too much and then i remembered that at the end of the day i do this for fun and its not that serious, so please overlook all the shitty parts. love ya very much<3

Read.

Read-

He read it. He fucking read it and you're gonna jump off a cliff and die.

You swore- you fucking swore you sent it to Miley yesterday night. Right before you went to sleep, you finished writing it and sent to her- except obviously, that wasn't what had fucking happened.

You'd sent it to him

And now you needed to find a fucking solution.

__ __ __

God even knocking felt like torture,

"oh hi y/n" Sarah's smile was nothing like her dad's, it was all kindness and sweetness, while Joel's... well Joel's always had something strange lurking behind his.

"Hi Sarah" you forced your lips to mimic hers, although the nerves were making it difficult "Is your dad home? I kinda need to talk to him"

"mh-mh" she nodded, gesturing for you to come in "he's in his study upstairs"

You stepped into the house just as she crouched down to pick up a gym bag

"You know where that is right?" she asked "I'm late for practice, I gotta go"

You felt your heart drop as her words sank in.

She was going out- she would be leaving you alone with him, in his house, in his study-

But then again, considering what it was you were here to talk about, maybe it was for the best.

"Yeah, don't worry" you forced another smile

"great" she beamed "see you later then"

And just like that, she was out of the house, and you were sole in the middle of your neighbor's entrance.

__ __ __

Again, another knock that felt very much like a punch to the gut

"come in"

His voice was warm and strong like it always was, that same voice that made your panties dampen just at the thought of it.

"H-hey Mr. Miller" you swallowed thickly, pushing open the door as if an army of zombies waited on the other side

"Darlin'" he nodded at you from behind his wooden desk, a hint of a grin shadowing his lips

Darlin'

Darlin'

God this fucking man

"h-hey" you said again, cursing internally while you tried remembering why you were even there.

Oh, right. Just about the most awkward thing ever.

A soft chuckle rumbled from his chest, making the hair at the nape of your neck stand.

"Whatcha doing here, doll?"

You felt heat rush to your cheeks, and then you felt your eyes fall to the floor as your hands fiddled with the edge of your skirt.

The skirt you purposely wore to come here- for him-

god what a stupid fucking-

"Thatta real pretty skirt you got on"

Your eyes snapped up to him, but he took his time glancing away from your legs.

"Oh- I- thank you" you murmured

"Jus' call 'em like I see 'em, darlin'" he shrugged, leaning back into his chair "Now's that all you came here for? To show me your new pretty skirt?"

"n-no" you rushed in to say, perhaps too quickly to be fully believable "I came here because I- uhm" You bit your bottom lip, the nervous fiddling starting back up again

"I ain't gonna bite babydoll"

Fuck- at this rate your panties would start melting.

"last night-" you gulped "I kinda- I... well I sent you something by mistake"

"ah" he hummed, raising his brows as he clicked on something on the laptop next to him "I gotta say, issa real... interesting story this one"

No-

NO

Fuck my life and everything ever in the existence of the universe fuckfuckfuck-

"who's..." he trailed off, reading off his screen "Javier?"

Your lungs had turned to stone and your mind to dust.

This couldn't be really happening, no, I mean, even if he'd read it for some reason he surely wouldn't be... taunting you for it.

"Mr. Miller-"

"real lucky guy" he said, his lips twitching into a soft smirk as he looked at you curiously "You brought him home to meet your daddy yet?"

"n-no" you stuttered, your mind a big ashamed mess and your whole body frozen like a statue "n-no he's not... real"

You watched his brows come together in confusion.

"what's that mean he ain't real?"

A shaky sigh fled your lips as you surrendered to your fate

"He's a character... f-from a tv show"

He remained silent, and as comfortable with silence as you were it was a different kind of story when Joel Miller was staring at you... so you talked again.

"T-that's a fanfiction, I- I write them sometimes, it's... fun"

His eyes searched yours for answers, faint amusement sparking in the back of his irises.

"what's a fanfiction, doll?"

Death wasn't such a scary thing after all- yeah it sure as hell was a better alternative to this.

"It's a... made-up story, that people- that I- sometimes write about fictional characters I like- a-and then I post it for p-people to read"

"And this Javier..."

"Narcos" you blurted out "H-he's from the show Narcos, he's not real"

His mouth twitched into a subtle smile, his eyes raking all over your body as if he was checking to see if it was really you in front of him

"I've seen that show" he said, his brow raising "Ain't he a bit old for you, babydoll?"

"Y-yes well- I-I-"

But you had no excuse for that, you could never tell him the truth, about how much you liked older men... about all the celebrity crushes double your age- so you just bit your lip, looking down at the floor.

The noise of his chair creaking as he got up made your heart skip a beat, but it stopped completely only when you heard him step closer to you... until he was right before you.

The only thing you could see were the socks covering his feet, and part of his black jeans- you didn't have it in you to actually look at him, to see him laughing at you, but you had no other choice when two of his fingers pulled your chin up.

"so you sit in your room, imagining this old man doin' all this stuff to you, and then you write it down?" he spoke, his beautiful mouth so very close to you "And here I was thinkin' you were a good little girl"

Your breath caught in your throat at those words, and he... yeah he definitely noticed.

"Please don't tell my dad"

"well I don't know" he moved some hair from your face, "I think this is somethin' your daddy ought to know"

a well of fear dipped into your belly, your eyes widening

"n-no please" you begged "Please Mr. Miller don't, I'll do anything- anything at all"

"oh sweetie" he cooed, "that ain't somethin' you can tell a man, especially not after he's read all the dirty things you fantasize about in your pretty little head"

"Mr Miller-" you bit your lip

"Mr Miller?" he repeated, looking down at you like you were the smallest little creature in the world "That ain't what you were calling Javi now, was it?"

A small, almost imperceptible gasp left your mouth.

He couldn't be saying... no right?- except...

"Joel-"

"that ain't it either" he shook his head, his thumb tracing the shape of your lower lip "you know what it is babygirl"

Either you were gonna make a fool of yourself, or this really was what he wanted.

"S-sir"

The slightest, most feline smirk pulled at his lips in satisfaction "thatta girl" he murmured "you don't want your dad to know what a dirty lil' girl his daughter really is?"

His breath was fanning on your mouth, and his touch was making your legs turn to jelly.

"n-no" you shook your head almost imperceptibly

"no?" he asked again, just to see you squirm, just to savor this moment for a little bit more.

"no sir"

He swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down his throat, his eyes looking into yours, memorizing every inch of your face, of the anxiety, the ardor, the plead in your expression.

"then get on your knees"

Your eyes widened in shock, the air going up your throat suddenly getting stuck

"w-wha-"

"what?" he asked, not even sounding like himself anymore. His tone was sweet, calm even, but something almost dire lurked underneath his words.

"you seemed eager to do it when Javi asked" he tilted his head, his fingers still holding your chin.

If you didn't know better you would have guessed it was jealousy that traced his tone whenever he spoke the name of your fantasies's protagonist... little did he know the main reason why you even liked Javier was his resemblance to him- to Joel.

"Mr- sir" you stuttered "I-"

"I don't like to repeat myself y/n" he spoke sternly, his eyes boring into yours "Do you want your daddy to know or not?"

You didn't need to answer, you only held his stare as he let your face go, and you slowly, unsurely, and awkwardly got to your knees.

"wasn't so hard now was it?" he asked, his eyes dark enough to fade into the night sky "what are you waiting for?"

"I-"

"You need instructions babydoll?" he chuckled "'cause I ain't gonna give 'em to ya" he said while your heart pounded in your chest "I know you know how to do it" he smirked "Described it so well in your little fanfiction"

"b-but I-" you tried to take a deep breath but doing anything while he towered over you, while his crotch was right in your line of sight was proving to be very very difficult "I've only ever done this once" you gulped, trying to keep eye contact

"yeah?" he smiled, his hand going to the top of your head, gently patting it...that really shouldn't have turned you on as much as it did. "then how come you knew exactly what to do with Javi? don't tell me you just guessed"

He either didn't believe you, or was really not expecting that. But it was the truth- you'd only ever done anything once... and it's not like it had even felt that great.

"Well, I- I do research... and I- I read a lot"

If you thought he looked predatorial before... you had no idea how bad it could really get.

"research huh?" he mocked, his voice as deep as it could get "Oh baby you're digging yourself a hole here" he tsked, shaking his head while looking almost disappointed "I really think your daddy ought to know about all the research his lil' girl's doing under his roof"

"No!" you begged, your bottom lip trembling.

"No?" he asked, tracing it with his thumb "Then I suggest you make it good, babygirl"

And that was that.

Your trembling hands undid his belt, then lowered his zipper, and finally pulled his pants down until they pooled at his feet.

Fuck

He was huge- even with the boxers still on it was very clear the man was just massive-

"I don't like to be teased y/n"

"s-sorry sir" you responded automatically, noticing his cock twitch within the confines of the fabric in appreciation of your obedience.

You had to do it slowly, you had to pull his boxers down slowly so you could have time to calm down, to not panic in front of the huge cock that was gonna be right in front of you at any moment-

And yet it didn't work- a soft gasp fled your mouth as you freed his manhood.

He only chuckled, watching the fear in your eyes, and quite frankly, very much enjoying it.

"I'll tell ya if you're doing it wrong" he simply spoke, his hand going to the back of your head to guide you closer to where he wanted you.

He was getting impatient. And you didn't want to disappoint him.

Yes, he was blackmailing you, but you'd be lying if you said you hadn't been dreaming of this for years.

You looked like a frightened kid as you wrapped your right hand around him, and you looked even more out of place as you opened your mouth and started fitting his length inside of it.

A weak grunt rumbled from his chest "Hollow your cheeks" he ordered, having you obey in a heartbeat.

"fuck that's good" he groaned now, watching you intently as you started bobbing your head, trying to fit more of him into your mouth "Good little slut"

You didn't know a moan was gonna flee your mouth until it had- until your whole face felt hot and you waited terrified for Joel's reaction.

Exect he was smiling- no- grinning like you'd just given him the best gift he'd ever received.

"Oh, you're really something else ain't ya, darlin'?"

"mhp" Your muffled noises were all the more entertaining to him, especially paired up with the sight of your thighs rubbing together.

You were so fucking wet you feared at any moment you would start dripping onto the floor.

"so needy" he murmured, his hand now gathering your hair in a makeshift bun "You wanna touch yourself, baby girl? wanna feel good while you make me feel good?"

"mh-mh" you tried to nod, to beg, to say yes please for the love of god let me.

"that's too bad" he tutted, sounding like he was holding back a laugh "Javi didn't let you do that now, did he?" he smirked "You wrote it, I think it's only right you get to experience it, babydoll"

But before you had time to ask yourself if he meant all of it, he'd spoken again.

"that all you can take?" he asked, watching the first half of his cock in your mouth with amusement "Here- how 'bout I help you out darlin'" he smirked, his hips retracting just to thrust into your mouth-

It wasn't a hard jab, but still you choked, and then you choked some more as he did it again, watching you fit more of him into your mouth as saliva drooled to your chin and your eyes watered.

You could feel the texture of every inch of his dick with your tongue, the feel of his veins, and the taste of his precum were all you were aware of.

"like that- see, jus' needed a lil' help" he groaned "Even a slut like you needs it sometimes"

His pace had quickened, and tears were now streaming down your face.

"shh" he shushed you once you choked yet another time "I know it's big baby" he cooed, his thrust much less gentle than his words, although that was all an act too "I know, I know... but you're gonna have to be a good whore for me and take it aaall into that slutty little throat, ok?" he murmured "just try to breathe through your nose"

What did he mean try?

What if you tried and failed?

But you weren't actually worried- you had never thought being horny could actually be painful, and yet, there you were, literally so wet and turned on it hurt.

You couldn't even see him anymore through all the tears covering your eyes, and you didn't even realize you were actively choking and making a complete mess of yourself, all you could feel was his big fat cock, and dream about how it would feel inside of you.

"God fuckin-" He groaned like an animal as he finally bottomed out, his dick making a permanent dent into your throat at this point "Jesus Christ"

He stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, watching you struggle, and then, just like that, he was out- and you could breathe again.

He didn't even give you time to catch your breath, to finish coughing like a maniac that he'd already given you another order.

"get up," he said "take off your clothes"

He really did want to recreate the fic- you were- you were about to have sex with Joel Miller, THE Joel Miller, your neighbor and dad's best friend Joel Miller.

oh fuck

"What did I say about repeating myself?"

You scrambled to your feet, pulling your shirt off at the same time.

You heard him snort but didn't pay it any mind as you took your bra and skirt off as quickly as you could.

You really were desperate.

But when it came to your panties you slowed, everything suddenly feeling very real.

"what are you waiting for?"

"s-sorry sir" you mumbled, finally dropping them at your feet.

A soft groaned fuck climbed up his throat as he examined every inch of your body.

You would be covering yourself, feeling a little self-conscious, if it wasn't for the fact that his gaze had turned you to stone.

"pick your panties up" he said as if getting out of a trance.

You frowned, confused, but obeyed nonetheless.

Maybe he didn't like the mess...

"Put 'em in the first drawer," he said, nodding back to his desk.

Oh

He followed your every move as you walked past him, but it was only when you were at his desk, that he started stalking towards you.

He was right beside you now, and somewhere along the way he'd lost his shirt, because your back was now pressed against his chest, and your ass was right against something else.

"I'm keepin' those" he murmured, his deep voice right next to your ear, his hands going to grip your waist.

You dropped the panties where he asked and nodded, turning to him, finding his face, his mouth, but an inch from your own.

"Yes sir"

His cock twitched again right against your backside as his mouth ghosted yours.

"Bend over"

You swallowed thickly, doing as he said.

You shivered feeling the table's cold wood meet your skin, but you got hot all over again once you felt Joel's words.

"Spread your legs"

You did.

"What an obedient slut I've turned you into" he grinned, proud of himself

"Where do you want it?"

You felt his cock slide between your cheeks, making you whimper and arch your back.

"here?" he slid it in between your legs, connecting with your clit.

You moaned as you shook your head no

"here?" he asked again, this time his dick prodding at your asshole.

You gasped as you mumbled "N-no sir- please"

"You want in your throat again babydoll, 's that it?" he teased you, his tip still leaving smears of his precum on your hole

"mh-mh" you shook your head no again "Please"

"no?" he snickered, "Then where?"

"Here?" he asked, the tip of his dick finally getting exactly where you wanted him "in your slutty lil' pussy?"

"yes- p-please sir- I-"

"say it" he taunted you, almost slipping in.

"I- I need it"

"what do you need?"

"Y-Your cock sir" you begged

"Where do you need my cock?"

"I-I need it in my pussy" you cried- he was so close if he would just- "I need your cock in my pussy sir, please I- I'm begging you-"

"good little slut"

He pushed in with one singular, hard thrust, making you cry out so loud the whole neighborhood probably heard.

He was so big it kind of burned at first, but as he thrust in again and you heard him groan in pleasure, there was no going back- you were in complete bliss... and your brain had turned to mush.

You were moaning- loudly.

"fuck-" he grunted "you're such a whore darlin'"

The sound of how wet you were as he plunged into your heat was filthy.

"Y'know- I usually give women an orgasm before I fuck 'em," he said as his balls slapped rhythmically against your skin "but you're just a whore- and whores don't deserve to be treated with respect, do ya?" Your back arched, feeding him more of yourself as your walls squeezed around him "Nah, you deserve to be used. Used like the little sluts that you are" he kept grunting, not paying any mind to how loud you were being, or how the desk had started to slip because of how hard his thrusts were "And it ain't like you need it, is it darlin'?" he chuckled, suddenly pulling you up, his right arm around your torso keeping you pinned against him "you're makin' a mess" he murmured into your ear, shivers running up your spine "and besides, this' how you wanted it- wrote it jus' like this in your lil' story didn't ya, ya little slut?"

He bit your earlobe just as his dick hit your cervix, making your brain short-circuit.

It was all so hot- so fucking hot.

"I can't imagine what your daddy would say" his mouth was on your neck now, but his pace was the same as ever, as hard and unapologetic as it could get "knowing what nasty things his little girl likes to think- to write" he chuckled "bet the poor guy would have the fuckin' big one if he knew"

"if he knew how you like to be fucked by men 30 years older than you" he groaned, feeling you squeeze him as you whimpered his name incoherently "if he knew how tight you get when I tell you how much of a slut you are"

Your eyes were rolled back, and your head had dropped against his chest

"please"

"If he knew how good you fuckin' take my cock" he murmured right against your mouth, your legs trembling "How desperate you are for it"

He was going even faster, and he was now supporting your whole body because your legs weren't working anymore.

"If he knew what a fuckin' whore he raised" he grunted, plunging his cock as deep as it could go, molding your body to him "how she's my whore now"

And that was it- that was it.

You felt actual tears stream down your cheeks as bliss took over your body- as you cried and moaned and trembled until you were done, until you'd finally recovered.

"I'm gonna come inside babygirl" It wasn't a question, it was an order, just like every one he'd given you for the past hour "Jus' like Javi" he grunted, his thrusts more erratic now "except this is real life baby- and you better hope it doesn't stick" he smirked, feeling your walls squeeze involuntarily at his words "God you're such a slut"

"Now take it all like a good one"

You couldn't help but join his moaning as he came, as he filled you up to the very brim.

You were a mess- cum was already running down your thighs as he slipped out of you, but you still followed his lead and started dressing again- only your panties were in his drawer and the walk back home would be a real awkward one.

"You post these stories?"

There was no point in lying, you'd already confessed to it.

"I- yes" you swallowed, putting your bra on "o-on Tumblr"

You could very well see he'd never heard of the app

"How are you called on there?"

He'd stepped closer to you, watching you fiddle with your shirt in your hands.

His belt was unbuckled, his jeans still open, and you were starting to feel ready for round two already.

"S-sir you want t-to-”

"I gotta know what other things your daddy can't know about” he murmured, moving a piece of hair from your face “and all the things I’m gonna do to my lil’ slut”

[bia-wayne-west]

Damian is going to have a little sister [Damian Wayne x Pregnant! Batmom]

Summary: You take a pregnancy test and find out you are pregnant. You will have a little girl. Bruce, Alfred and their other three children are happy, except Demian. Your fourth baby is jealous of the new member of the family.

Personagens: Bruce Wayne [Batman], Damian Wayne [Robin], Dick Grayson [Nightwing], Jason Todd [Red hood], Tim Drake [Red Robin] and Reader [You]

Word count: 1,366

Warnings: jealousy, fear of abandonment and pregnancy.

A / N: Hi. I planned this fanfiction months ago, but I only had time to write today. I always imagined what it would be like if Batmom got pregnant. Demian would probably be jealous and wouldn't admit it. So, I decided to write about it.

I hope you like the imagine

Remember that I am a Brazilian girl. I am not fluent in English and I am still learning. I apologize if I have any errors. Feel free to correct me.

Go and read my other stories on my MASTERLIST.

REQUEST ARE OPEN. Do not be shy. Ask as many imagines as you want.

The test in your hands had two blue lines and your face had a huge smile. You had some suspicions, but you never imagined that after eight years of marriage, you would have a baby in your womb.

You thought you must be sterile because you had never been pregnant before, and even though the doctors said you were healthy, you didn't believe them. The test in your hand was proof that you were going to have five babies now.

You left the bathroom, putting the test in your pants pocket. The first person you saw when you left the master suite was Alfred. He will just come out of one of the guest rooms.

You ran to the butler you considered your second father. Alfred looked at you, thinking you were going to ask for something.

“Alfred, I'm pregnant!” You said it quickly, not having the courage to repeat it. The old man in front of you looked at you with wide eyes. After five seconds, he smiled at you.

It was difficult to make Alfred smile. He always maintained his serious appearance.

“Congratulations, Mrs. Wayne. It’s great news.” Alfred said.

You showed the butler the pregnancy test. He congratulated her again and left, with the excuse that he had to clean Timothy's room. You could see a big smile on Alfred's face as he walked down the stairs to the second floor.

You remembered that Bruce was on the Wayne Enterprise, running some errands and that he wouldn't be back until after 8pm. Dick and Jason went to Wally West's house to play basketball. Timothy was at school.

Demian was the only one at home. He was probably in his room or in the garden with Titus.

You walked to the room that had the 'Do Not Enter' sign. You knocked on the door a few times, hearing your son's voice telling you that you could come in.

“Hi, my love.” You said to Damian, who was playing videogame. He was sitting on the bed. The boy smiled at you.

"Hi mommy. Did something happen?" He questioned, his eyes anxious.

You sat on the bed too, watching your son continue to play his game, but he was paying attention to you. .

“I have something new to tell you. I found out today, so only you and Alfred know about it.” You said, reaching into your pocket and pulling out the pregnancy test to show Damian.

The boy looked at the object curiously, until he realized what it really was. He looked at you in amazement, as if he thought it was just a joke.

"You are pregnant?" He questioned.

"Yes." After you nodded, you saw him give you a sad smile.

“I think this is amazing news, Mom,” Damian said. He no longer looked you in the eye, focusing his attention on the television while he played.

"Are you okay, darling?" You questioned, moving closer to Damian.

The boy just nodded, and didn't look at you anymore. Then, you realized that he didn't like the news, and preferred to leave him alone. You knew Damian didn't like expressing his feelings.

"If you need me, I'll be in the kitchen" You said, leaving your son's room and walking down the hallway.

As soon as Bruce arrived and you told him you were pregnant, he had the best reaction possible. Your husband was extremely happy and excited. And Dick, Jason and Tim also loved having a new little brother.

The weeks passed very quickly, and soon became months, and suddenly, you were seven months pregnant. You had already done all the ultrasounds and discovered that you were having your first daughter. You were excited to have a little princess, and Jason and Dick started teasing Bruce about how he really was a girl's daddy.

Everyone in your family seemed to be happy, except Damian. He never said out loud that he hated the baby, but you could see that he stopped wanting to spend time with you. The boy spent more time in his room or in the Batcave, avoiding being close to you. Bruce said the boy would accept that he would have a sister after the baby was born, but you knew you had to have a talk with Damian.

You walked slowly down to the clock that hid the entrance to the Batcave. It was difficult to walk with swollen feet. You knew that Bruce was on patrol, but that he left Damian on the Batcomputer. As soon as you got out of the elevator, you saw your son look at you, but quickly turn away. You walked over to Damian, giving him a gentle smile. The boy didn't look at you again.

"Hello, my dear." You said.

He didn't answer you, and started pretending to type on the keyboard.

"I wanted to talk to you a little."

Damian just grumbled.

"I know you're sad about my pregnancy." You said. "But you know that in two months there will be a baby here."

He continued ignoring you.

"If it's because of your father, you know Bruce loves all his children equally." You commented. "And that no baby in this world will make your father love you less."

Damian finally turned around, looking at you. He had red eyes, looking like he was going to cry.

"It's not about my father." He said. "Is you!" He exclaimed.

"What do you mean?" You asked.

"You know!" He roared. "You were the first person who liked me, even though you knew I was Bruce's biological son and that I was conceived when he was drugged by Talia." Damian continued speaking. "And now, you will have your own daughter. Who has your blood and Bruce's"

You looked at him, surprised.

"Are you afraid I'm going to leave you aside?" You wanted to know.

"My brothers don't seem to see what's going to happen. That you and Bruce are going to love the baby more than we do." He started to cry. "I love you and my dad, and I know that now you will have your own family."

You said, walking over to your son. You held him by the shoulders, making him face you.

"Damian, that will never happen!" You exclaimed. "You, Dick, Jason and Tim never stopped being my kids, my little birds."

He looked away, looking embarrassed.

"I thought you wouldn't treat me like your son anymore" He said.

"It's normal for you to be jealous and afraid of losing all the attention you receive, but I want you to know that our relationship will never change." You commented. "Now that the problem has been resolved, do you want to go upstairs so we can make some cupcakes together?"

Damian quickly got up from the chair he was in, and threw himself into your arms, hugging you tightly. He placed his head on your chest, and surprisingly, you felt him caressing your belly for the first time. You lowered your head to look at your son, smiling at him.

"Yes, I want to go make cupcakes, Mommy." He said, using the sleeve of his sweatshirt to wipe his tear-stained face.

You and Damian went up to the house, leaving the Batcave. He started talking to you again, saying that he had had a brief fight with Jon Kent, but that they had already made up. He also told you that he was doing a literature project for school in a group, and that it was very easy.

As soon as you arrived in the kitchen, you grabbed all the necessary ingredients from the fridge and started mixing the cupcake batter, while Damian mixed the frosting. He told you that he wanted to color the cupcakes green and red, so you grabbed the food coloring from the pantry, letting him make the frosting any color he wanted.

Once the more than twenty cupcakes were ready, you and Damian sat on the counter while eating, talking excitedly about how the last few months had been when Damian had avoided you.

"Mother?" He caught your attention. "It'll be good to be a big brother."

You gave him a huge smile, and then kissed your son's cheek.

[hiramaris]

I'm gonna request something for haley bc i love how you write her and not so obsessed. im not sure if you are writing for request? but im gonna give my shot

a prompt where haley as wife, and the farmer was late passed midnight because of mining shit. and almost died (lmao). she got home safely, but limping with her wounds and bruise. then there's haley, saw her wife barely walking and her reaction, just comfort, fluff, worried and taking care of the farmer.

that's all, thanks, no pressure <3

Kiss it Off Me

CHAPTER 7

Chapter Summary:

"I don't like your stupid gift!" She didn't intend for it to sound harsh, but as soon as her mouth opened, she couldn't stop the words from spilling out. "I honestly thought you'd know better than to give me something like this."

Pairings: Haley x Fem!farmer

Disclaimer:  I do not own Stardew Valley or any of the related characters. Stardew Valley is created by and owned by ConcernedApe. This fanfiction is intended for entertainment only. I am not making any profit from this story. All rights of the original Stardew Valley story belong to ConcernedApe.

Warning: violence, blood

Notes:

thanks to anon for being the first-ever reader to request a prompt. I initially thought to make a separate fic for this one but I realized why not make it as a new chapter? There would be some adjustments to the prompt, instead of Haley being the farmer's wife, she'd be somewhere in between a friend and a woman struggling to put a name to what she's feeling with the farmer. I'm really sorry anon for not following the route you're hoping for but I do hope you'll like this one.

Summer 9

The sound of thunder clapping from above her made it difficult for sleep to come that night. Despite the late hour, the darkness outside was illuminated intermittently by flashes of lightning, casting eerie shadows across the walls of her room.

Rain drummed steadily against the glass, a constant reminder of Yoba's fury. The room felt oppressive, suffocating almost, as if the storm had seeped its way indoors, invading her sanctuary.

She had always hated rain. Well, the main reason is it's horrible weather for a dashing photographer like her. Not only does it ruin her hair that she spent all morning fixing, but it could also ruin her equipment. Oh, did she also mention it gives an awful lighting?

She also shares the same level of dislike for storms because they destroy the calmness of rain. It's aggressive, cold, and destructive.

That's why the moment the news announced there would be a storm for the next three days, she was quick to stock every little favorite snack she could think of because there was no way she was waltzing outside in that kind of weather.

Haley popped out a tired eye as she looked at the clock beside her.

1:56 AM.

Oh, joy it's almost two in the morning. How in Yoba's name could she go outside with bags under her eyes probably heavier than all of Emily's hippie gems combined?

'I mean– there's always a concealer,' she thought but quickly dismissed the idea.

She has been minimizing her makeup since... since whatever (when you told her she looked prettier even without them) PLUS with summer's sweltering heat, layering on cosmetics seemed suffocating.

With a groan, she pushed herself up from the bed, determination flashing in her tired eyes as she made her way to the kitchen to get a glass of milk, hoping that this little solution would finally give her the sleep she'd been craving for.

But as she reached for the milk, a cacophony outside shattered the stillness of the night. Haley froze, her heart pounding in her chest. It's kind of hard to tell with the harsh rain and thunder and everything.

As if to confirm that her mind wasn't playing tricks on her, a set of audible coughs echoed just behind the door. Haley's heart thumped so loud she was afraid it might come out of her chest.

That could only be an intruder.

In Haley's sleep-deprived mind, she didn't stop to even realize that Pelican Town had never experienced a robbery in the dead of night. Instead, she quickly bolted to her room, grabbing Alex's old baseball bat he had left here one time, not even having the presence of mind to wake up Emily to face this 'intruder' together.

****

Spoiler alert, it wasn't an intruder but an idiotic farmer covered in dirt and unbelievably wet from the rain.

You were holding your rucksack close to your chest for dear life with your sword held tightly by your other hand when Haley found you slumped against the door.

"What the hell are you doing outside at this hour and in this weather?" was the first words she uttered when her eyes spotted you. She was quick to help you up and bring you inside, not even minding the mud and water accumulating from where you stood.

When you didn't respond, Haley met your eyes.

Haley's heart nearly stopped at the sight beyond her. Without being hidden by the darkness, she could finally see your whole state.

There standing is the farmer herself. Your white hoodie was tattered and looked burned. Your hoodie's sleeves are ripped too up to your upper arms, and your left arm has a cut with fresh blood still gushing out of it.

You were missing the other pair of your shoes, and your hair was disheveled and covered with slime. You even had multiple scratches and scrapes all over your body. Your right cheek has some small scratches, and blood is rushing out of the wound on your forehead.

"Yoba..." Haley's voice was barely a whisper as she gently cupped your cheeks, careful not to aggravate your wounds. Her eyes flickered to the gash on your forehead, blood still seeping from the wound. "What happened, Y/n/n? We need to get you to Harvey!"

You shook your head weakly, struggling to stand upright. "No... H-harvey," you protested, your voice strained. "H-he'll kill me."

"Y/n!" Haley's arms enveloped you in a tight embrace as you nearly stumbled over her. She wanted to reprimand you, to demand answers, but the rush of blood in her ears and the pounding of her heart against her chest prevented her from doing so.

For now, she needed to make sure you were okay.

You only grunted in response as you gave in to her, allowing her to guide you onto the cushions.

"I'm just gonna get a towel and the first aid." Her lips trembled as she said those words.

In record time, she was able to get everything she thought you'd need, afraid if she missed any more seconds you wouldn't be breathing.

When she returned to the living room, she almost went ballistic when she spotted your form unmoving from your seat.

"Y/n! Wake up, for Yoba's sake! Don't you dare die on—" Haley's words caught in her throat as you rasped out a response.

"...oh, look an angel," you managed with a small grin, your tired eyes fluttering open.

Haley couldn't help but smile softly at your attempt to lighten the mood. "Very funny," she replied, relief flooding through her as she saw you conscious, if only barely.

Wordlessly, she draped a towel over you, tucking it gently to ensure you stayed warm. It was the same blanket she used during storms like this when she felt cold herself.

With a purposeful stride, she made her way to the fireplace, adding more wood to the fire in hopes of warming you further.

"Keep your eyes open, please? I'm just gonna get some rags to clean up your wound," she requested gently.

She placed the first aid kit on the coffee table in front of you before heading to the kitchen to gather clean rags and a sponge.

Returning to the living room, she filled a bowl with tap water and carried it carefully as she made her way back to you.

With great tenderness, Haley cautiously wiped the blood from your body with the sponge, dampening it in the tap water she had prepared. She winced as the color of the water turned red.

"You lost too much blood," Haley commented, masking the shakiness of her voice. She wasn't a great fan of blood but she was not naive with treating minor injuries either. She silently thanked Yoba for letting Emily force her to learn a thing or two about first aid.

You only grunted in response to her observation.

"What happened, Y/n?" She couldn't hide the worry in her voice even if she dared try. "I should call Harvey and get you to the clinic."

You groaned as she accidentally applied too much pressure to your wound. "No... it's okay. It's n-nothing, I'm fine."

"These serious injuries don't shout nothing, Y/n. What the hell happened?"

"'I went to the mine..." you explained, and Haley waited expectantly for you to continue.

"It's storming."

"I know..." You couldn't look at her in the eye. "It's just that there's not much going on in the farm so I thought I should continue my expeditions in the mine. I thought it would be safe but..."

"But it wasn't." Haley couldn't helped but deadpan.

You visibly winced, unsure if it was because of your wounds, Haley's biting remark, or just both. "I heard from Marlon I could find rare items once I reached the hundredth floor, which I did," you explained, tapping your rucksack beside you. "But I should have known better that those items are rare for a reason. Not because they're hard to find, but because they're hard to acquire. Once I got hold of this baby," you gestured to your bag, "the whole cave was swarmed by slimes and shadow people."

"What?" Haley's voice sputtered with disbelief, her brows furrowing in concern. "Shadow people? I thought they were just myths!"

You tried to nod in confirmation, but Haley kept a firm hand on your cheeks, preventing the movement. "Uhuh, they're very real," you affirmed, your voice tinged with exhaustion. "And I can say they aren't really fond of us humans and, uh, dwarves I think. They're more scared of me than intimidating. I tried not to, y'know, hurt them."

"That's a stupid idea."

"I know," you admitted, your gaze dropping to the floor. "But given our history with them, I didn't want to give them any more reason to hate us. Plus, I was the one invading their homes."

Haley let out a heavy sigh, her shoulders slumping with weariness. "Still, you should have fought back. What if they had killed you in there? How would we have known you were down there and rotting? You're the only one crazy enough to go down there anyway."

You didn't speak after that, and Haley mistook that as compliance. She was too busy fuming at your lack of self-preservation to notice the frown creasing on your features.

After managing to cleanse the visible injuries of your body, she began to grab some clean rags to apply some pressure on your forehead and your forearm to keep your bleeding to an absolute minimum.

She cursed softly under her breath, trying to think of what to do next.

"…Y/n? Y/n, wake up, stop sleeping," Haley's voice was quiet, her tone laced with urgency as she gently tapped your cheek.

Your eyes pulled themselves open and looked tiredly at her. "Hn?"

"I need you to sit up straight and pull your hoodie off. What do you have underneath?" Haley's words were gentle but firm as she carefully supported your shoulder and hip.

"…just a tank top."

Slowly, you strained to sit upright, wincing with discomfort. Haley could tell from the way your grip tightened on her wrist that you were not comfortable sitting for very long.

With Haley's assistance, you managed to pull your hoodie off, careful not to aggravate any wounds. Once the clothes were removed, Haley's eyes lingered on the minor cuts just below your chest, blood still seeping from the wounds. She grabbed the sponge again, gently brushing away the blood from your cuts.

After cleansing the wounds, Haley applied alcohol and antibiotics, causing you to grunt in discomfort. No words were exchanged as she skillfully wrapped bandages around your forehead, forearm, and abdomen. She then helped you into warmer clothes she found in her wardrobe, her movements gentle and reassuring.

"How do you feel?" Haley bit her lip, anxious. Honestly speaking, she wasn't confident in her abilities to treat injuries, so she anxiously awaited your response, hoping she hadn't made things worse.

"…I'm alright now," you rasped, your voice hoarse with exhaustion. "…thank you, Hay."

Haley felt a wave of relief wash over her at your words. Your face had regained some color compared to earlier when you looked as pale as a ghost.

"Do you want anything to eat?" she questioned tentatively. "I'll whip you up some tea and soup."

You swallowed gently and nodded your head.

"I'll be back soon then. Rest. I'll wake you when your soup is done."

****

About twenty minutes later, Haley went back into the living room, a tray in her hands. She found you sprawled on the couch (thankfully not moving too much), embracing your rucksack in your arms once again. She wanted to question what was inside and why you couldn't part with it so much but decided to make sure you were okay first.

The things she does for you.

She placed the tray of food on the coffee table and sat beside you, taking in your sleeping form.

"Y/n/n? Food's ready," Haley said softly, tapping your thigh to rouse you from your slumber.

Startled and kind of a forced of habit, you tried to sit up straight. Thankfully, Haley was fast enough to stop you.

"Don't get up. | don't want to wrap your wounds again," Haley admonished, her tone firm.

She grabbed a pillow and propped it behind your back to elevate your head slightly. As she picked up the bowl of chicken soup, she could feel your eyes on her.

"I can feed myself, Haley. Thank you," you finally spoke. Haley's eyes met yours briefly before she averted her gaze, a flicker of emotion passing over her features.

"Clearly, you aren't capable of feeding yourself. Stop being a baby and let me do this."

Your eyes settled on her for probably a full minute before you sighed in resignation. Despite the hardened gaze she probably wore on her face, Haley gently placed a spoonful of soup in your mouth.

"I know you can, Y/n," Haley spoke after a few moments. "But you lost too much blood already, I don't want you to bleed again."

"I'm sorry for causing you all this trouble," you uttered softly.

Haley paused and finally looked at you, like, really looked at you properly this time. Since you had arrived covered in mud and blood, she had been operating on autopilot, with only one mission: ensuring you were okay. It's the only thing running through her mind, leaving no room for anything else. Mainly, she hadn't thought about the impact of her words.

"Don't be ridiculous. It's no trouble. I'm just..." Haley paused, thinking about what words to use without giving away that she cared too much. "I'm just glad that you're okay."

Once you had finished eating, Haley placed the empty bowl down and reached for a damp cloth. Brushing away a stray lock of your hair, she gently wiped away a few drops of blood and dirt, her touch surprisingly gentle. She was so focused on her task that she didn't notice you watching her quietly, your expression softening as she attended to the blemish on your face.

"Haley..." you called softly, breaking the silence. Haley looked down at you, her eyes startled. A small, appreciative smile graced your lips as you continued, "Thank you."

Haley couldn't help but smile in return. Sometimes it's hard to stay mad at you. "You can thank me by resting and making sure this won't happen again."

You chuckled softly as you closed your eyes, resting your head against the pillow once more. "No promises."

Seeing that you were getting sleepy, Haley quickly gathered the empty bowl and cup and placed them in the sink. When she returned, she extended a hand to help you up, much to your confusion.

"Come, let's get you to my room."

"Haley," you protested weakly. "I couldn't possibly impose more than I already have."

"Shut up. I won't let an injured woman sleep on the couch, Y/n."

Despite your protests, Haley managed to convince you to agree with her proposed setup. While Haley wasn't entirely keen on sleeping on the couch herself, it's not like she has a choice on the matter. The cushion is uncomfortable as hell, it's like sitting on a pile of bricks. That's more than enough reason to let you sleep on her bed. Plus, with the mess and worry weighing on her mind, she doubted she'd be able to sleep anyway.

She was about to leave to clean the mess in the living room when she finally sat you down on her bed, but a hand stopped her.

"…have you seen my bag, Hay?"

"Oh, that? Do you want me to get it for you?"

"No, no. Thanks but I can get it myself." You made a move to stand but Haley kept a firm grip on your shoulder.

Haley frowned. "You can't barely even stand. Do you think I'm gonna let you walk by yourself? What's in the bag anyway? I'll get it for you."

"I'm wounded, not disabled–" you tried to say but Haley only raised an eyebrow at you, daring you to finish your sentence. You sighed when you realized that you wouldn't win against her again. "It's... it's a gift."

"For whom?" Haley couldn't help but ask. Who could you possibly want to give a gift that you almost died just to get it?

Was it for Penny? Haley heard she liked gems as well. Or was it Maru? If she could remember correctly, tomorrow's her birthday and she seemed to like everything you can find in caves. This totally makes sense.

But why did her heart clench at the thought? More importantly, how did she even remember all this information when she didn't care about them at all?

Before you could respond, Haley left the room to retrieve your rucksack. She felt like she didn't need to hear the answer to her question.

When she returned, she wordlessly handed the bag to you, prepared to leave the room once more. However, your voice stopped her in her tracks.

"It's for you."

She turned, mouth agape. "What?"

"It's for you." You smiled warmly as you held out a familiar-looking crystalline gem, about the size of a palm, emitting a dazzling array of colors.

Haley's initial surprise quickly turned to dismay as she recognized the mineral. Her frown deepened, and a flicker of discomfort passed through her eyes at the sight of it. She knew what it was, and just the thought of touching it made her feel physically ill.

"What's wrong?" you asked, concerned at her sudden change in demeanor.

"I don't like your stupid gift!" She didn't intend for it to sound harsh, but as soon as her mouth opened, she couldn't stop the words from spilling out. "I honestly thought you'd know better than to give me something like this."

"I..."

"Keep it," she said with finality. "Good night, Y/n."

With a curt nod, she turned on her heel and stormed off, the sound of the door slamming shut echoing in the room as she left.

****

She shouldn't have said that. She knows she shouldn't have but she was just so worried she couldn't control anything else spouting from her foul mouth.

She hated how she caused the light in your eyes to die down. Hated the way you weren't able to say anything else. Hated the way she just couldn't probably express her worries properly.

Now you probably thought she hated your guts.

Which is far from the truth. Kind of the opposite actually but she's far too tired and confused to delve into her feelings further at the moment.

It's true she doesn't share the same passion for gems and rocks as her sister Emily, and people will generally thank someone who will give them a prismatic shard because for one, they are pretty, she's not gonna lie about that. Secondly, they're super rare and by extension, expensive.

Haley just couldn't bring herself to appreciate it in the same way.

She hated them with passion. And she hated people assuming she liked shiny things because of her personality.

While it's true she's kind of materialistic, it was a trait ingrained in her from years of her parents trying to compensate for their absence by showering her with gifts.

She didn't like being materialistic, but she's so used to it that it's hard to stop.

And she hated how you seemed to think the same way about her when you thought about giving her a prismatic shard as a gift. That all she ever was were just pretty and expensive gifts.

And she hated how you let yourself get hurt just to give her this.

She hated everything about this.

****

Haley spent the majority of the night cleaning the living room, hoping to tire herself out enough to dull the heaviness and emptiness in her heart. She didn't know it was possible to feel both at the same time, but there she was, experiencing it firsthand, and she despised every moment of it.

And she hated herself more now because she found herself padding her way towards her room. Her steps faltered when she saw you peacefully sleeping on her bed. A gentle smile touched her lips at the sight of your chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm.

Unable to resist, Haley approached you quietly. She carefully tucked you in, a tenderness in her actions that betrayed the turmoil in her heart. Leaning down, she pressed a soft kiss to your bandaged forehead, a gesture she had learned from her late grandmother.

"To kiss the pain away," her grandmother used to say, and Haley found solace in that belief.

With one last caress of your cheek, Haley settled onto the foot of her bed, a magazine in hand, silently hoping for the sun's rays to finally peek behind the horizon by her room's window.

****

Haley woke up surprisingly lacking any back pains. She didn't feel sleep-deprived either.

Wait—

How'd she get in her bed? You're supposed to be– Oh.

She sat up straight when she realized she was holding a letter in her hand. Straightening up the almost crumpled paper, she could recognize your handwriting immediately.

Good morning, Haley. Sorry for the disturbance last night, and thank you for taking care of me. It means a lot. I didn't want to impose more than I already have so I excused myself while you were asleep. Thank you again. — Y/n

Haley studied the letter, noting the hastily scribbled handwriting that differed from your usual neat script. She could imagine you rushing to write it just to avoid dealing with her.

It hurt more than she cared to admit. But after what she said to you, who was she to complain?

At this point, it would be a miracle if you still talked to her.

"Good morning, sis!" Emily chirped, her voice echoing through the room as Haley emerged from her room. She sat on the couch, casually knitting what appeared to be another sweatshirt.

Haley's expression was one of mild annoyance as she replied, "It's noon."

"Storm has passed but Caroline canceled, just to be safe," Emily responded, her fingers deftly working the knitting needles as she spoke. "And I know it's noon. Just wanted to emphasize you slept late, little lady."

She glanced around the living room, noting the sunlight filtering in through the curtains, indicating that the day was well underway and the storm had thankfully subsided.

"Why are you here anyway? Don't you have a yoga class to attend to?"

Haley let out a resigned groan, her movements sluggish as she made her way toward the kitchen to avoid further conversation with her sister.

"Just so you know, I saw Y/n/n come out of your room!" Emily called out from the living room, her tone playful yet teasing.

Haley froze mid-step, her grip tightening on the handle of her mug. "Wha—" Her voice wavered slightly, betraying her surprise. "Nothing happened!"

"Of course, nothing's going to happen in that state she's in," Emily retorted.

Haley couldn't ignore the sense of urgency that suddenly gripped her at the mention of your state. You're in no condition to go home all by yourself.

"Just tell me you took her home," she pleaded, her tone softening slightly as she returned to the living room.

Thankfully, Emily's too caught up with her work to notice that brief slip-up of vulnerability Haley rarely shows.

"I volunteered actually, but Penny saw us on our way and insisted she could do the job," Emily explained, her tone matter-of-fact.

"And you agreed?!" she sputtered incredulously.

"Of course, I would!" Emily readily defended. "She volunteered!"

Haley's sigh was heavy as she sank down onto the couch next to Emily. "You should have woken me up."

She could feel Emily's eyes settling on her as if trying to decipher what's got her so distressed.

"I tried, but Y/n/n won't let me. Said you needed the sleep," Emily finally answered after a few moments of silence.

"You're unbelievable." Haley couldn't help but massage the bridge of her nose at Emily's casualness about the situation as if seeing a heavily injured farmer waltz out of Haley's room was just a normal occurrence. "I suppose she told you what happened then?"

"Uh-huh. Accident in the mines, right? And she went here instead to the clinic because Harvey would kill her once he saw her state." Emily chuckled, her tone light as if discussing the weather. "He just literally told her last time to take it easy."

Haley blinked in disbelief. "And how do you know this?"

"Everyone knows this, Haley." Emily looked at her as if wondering why she didn't know this piece of information. "It's practically a common thing to see Y/n/n passed out outside in the morning."

Haley's brows furrowed in frustration, her mind racing with thoughts. Of course, she doesn't know this. If she would have known, she would have told you to take it easy. Hell, she'll help with farming if it will make things easier for you. This thing where you pass out and overwork yourself shouldn't be normalized. Actually, if anything—

She stopped herself from this line of thinking because why the hell was she even considering helping out with your farm when she, in fact, hated dirt?

"She also told me how you stepped up and helped her," Emily continued, her voice pulling Haley back to the present moment. She felt Emily's hand pat her shoulder in a gesture of reassurance. "I saw she's well-cleaned up. I'm proud of you, sis."

Haley forced a smile, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. I'm not proud of what I did, Em.

*****

Summer 10

The sky was painted with hues of pink and orange as Haley sat alone on the shore, the gentle sound of waves lapping against the sand providing a soothing rhythm to her troubled thoughts. She had come here seeking solace, the ocean always offering her a sense of peace in times of distress.

The events yesterday had bothered her more than she had let on. She convinced herself you'd understand why she reacted the way she did but a part of herself thinks she should apologize.

But as stubborn as she is, she instead spent the whole day sulking, which is what she did.

She embraced her knees closer to her chest, fingers brushing the bracelet adorning her wrist. It was her great-grandma's, a delicate piece of jewelry passed down through generations adorned in gold and pearl on the middle part. Her grandmother has given it to her instead of her mom because she'd rather wear luxurious things than some hand-me-down jewelry. But Haley loved them, and it's probably the only piece of jewelry she'd ever wear aside from the shell necklace she was wearing now.

It was a ritual of sorts for her, wearing the bracelet whenever she felt sad and alone. It's as if wearing it made her feel like her grandma was with her at this very moment, comforting her.

She was so lost in her own thoughts that she didn't realize her bracelet had slipped from her wrist. It wasn't until she reached to adjust it that she felt its absence.

"Oh, no..."

With trembling hands, she combed through the sand, her movements growing more frantic with each passing moment. Her eyes scanned the water's edge, fearing the worst as she desperately sought any glimmer of gold amidst the grains of sand.

No, no... impossible. She made sure she was far enough from the water for that specific reason.

An hour passed with no sign of the precious heirloom, and Haley felt tears welling up in her eyes as desperation threatened to consume her. She practically combed the whole beach for it and still no signs of the bracelet.

She couldn't help but slump back to the sand. She's feeling everything too much.

She's such a useless piece of shit. She couldn't even kept an important heirloom. How the hell can she even keep someone like you in her life?

Everyone's right. She's way up high in the clouds that everything she touches crumbles within her fingertips.

The tears are threatening to fall from her eyes and a sob is rising on her throat.

And just before a tear fell from her eyes, a hand shot up and grabbed her by the shoulder.

She looked up and met a pair of gray eyes staring into her own. The grayish color of your eyes is stark and deep and seemed a little bluish from the illumination of the sun. It almost looked like the sky during spring or the ocean seen from a cruising ship as a cold tundra threatened to ruin the quiet solitude of the season. Your eyes telltale thousands of untold stories with every blink, stories too ambiguous, too dark for any of them to understand. Though not dark enough to feed her thoughts of the midnight sea, of storms and drowning.

Calloused fingertips thumbed mascara stains from her cheeks with such gentleness Haley doesn't think she deserves.

"I'm here," you murmured. "What happened, Haley?"

"I l-lost it," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion as she struggled to hold back tears. "My bracelet... it's gone! I know I had it on when I got here... But now it's gone, Y/n and I can't find it anywhere..."

She couldn't help the sob that escaped her as she burrows closer into you. She had probably stained your shirt with expensive make-up and salty tears but she didn't care as she dug her face deeper into your collar bone further and sucks a shaky breath.

"Shh," you soothed, sturdy arms wrapped around her tightened instinctively. "I'll go find it, don't worry."

"I'll never find another one like it..."

"I'm really sorry..." she felt you murmur against her hair. "I'm sure it's just around here somewhere."

"...maybe it'll wash up on another shore," she hiccuped between sobs. "I can't bear to think of it at the bottom of the ocean."

"We'll find it, okay?" you assured her, and Haley swore her heart stopped beating when you planted a soft kiss on her forehead. "Stay here. We're not leaving until we find your bracelet."

****

And truth be told you did find it.

After what seemed like an eternity of combing through the sand, Haley's eyes lit up as she spotted the familiar-looking bracelet in your hands.

With a smile so bright it rivaled the sun, you approached her.

"You found it!" she cheered as she run towards you, hopping from the sand and straight to your arms.

You weren't deterred by this and proceeded to secure your arms around her to prevent her from falling.

"Careful there, we don't want to drop it again, do we?" You barked out a laugh but Haley was quick to recognize the grunt of pain in them.

"Yoba, I'm sorry! I forgot you're still wounded!" Haley made a move to let you go but you weren't having any of it. If anything, you hold her tighter. Haley couldn't help but let out a laugh as well as she wrapped her arms around your neck just as firmly. "Thank you so much, Y/n. You're a lifesaver."

"You're welcome," you murmured against her chest. "Here, I'll help you wear it."

You gently set her down, much to her disappointment, and began to fasten the bracelet around her wrist, your actions filled with care and tenderness.

"Thank you, Y/n. Really," she murmured softly. "You're always there whenever I needed you and all you get as a thank you is me being... a bitch to you. I'm sorry."

You frowned. "You're not a... 'b' word. Far from it."

"'B' word,"she scoffed, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips "What are you, twelve?"

"Hey!" you protested in mock indignation. "I can cuss. I just don't want to use it around you. I don't want to get used to it."

Haley's gaze softened drastically. If you keep this kind of consistency around her then Haley's bound to fall hard on her back. And since it's with you, you'd probably made your way to ensure she'll be falling in a pile of pillows and flowers. You're thoughtful like that.

"I'm sorry for giving you that gift yesterday..." you started after a moment of silence. "Let me finish first," you interrupted gently when you saw her mouth open to speak. "I just... prismatic shards are rare to find and I wanted to give it to you because I thought it's something you'd like to photograph."

You took her hand in yours, a tender gesture that made Haley's heart skip a beat, her cheeks flushing slightly at the warmth of your touch. The soft morning light bathed the shoreline in a golden hue, casting long shadows across the sand as gentle waves lapped against the shore.

"But then I realized how it may have looked like to you, and I'm sorry I made you feel that way."

"Y/n..."

"So I like to try again." Without further explanation, you strode towards the boat beside Elliot's cabin, your steps confident and purposeful, and produced a bouquet of—wait, are those sunflowers?

"No way!" she sputtered as she tried to fight the grin threatening to spill on her face. You're not supposed to look this dashing walking towards her with a bouquet in hand. It's unfair!

"Yes way." you grinned at her as you handed her the flowers, your eyes sparkling with mischief. "I hope I'm forgiven."

"I'm supposed to be the one saying sorry, you dunce!" Haley playfully slapped your shoulders before accepting them. "They're beautiful, Y/n! These are my absolute favorite! Thank you."

"No worries. And if you're free you can take a look at them at my farm."

"You planted them?" Now that she had mentioned it, it sounded like a stupid question. Of course, you planted them yourself, where else can you get these flowers?

But as usual, being the kind and patient person that you are, you only beamed at her and nodded. "Yep! I planted a whole yard."

"For real?"

"For real," you affirmed, your smile widening at her incredulous expression.

"But why? I mean compared to other crops I'm sure sunflowers aren't that profitable."

You shrugged again, your expression softening. "Eh, I wasn't aiming for the profit. I was aiming for your smile."

****

Previous

Next

A/n: my toes are curling while I wrote this, I hope you felt the same. Anyway, the bouquet of sunflowers isn't the same bouquet that makes Haley your girlfriend. It's just a regular ol' bouquet our farmer has personally crafted because she's a simp for our queen but just too oblivious to see it. Sorry for the delay, I had just finished my clinical recently so I was busy the whole month of April. Hope y'all like this one!

P.S. comments are much appreciated!

THANK YOU FOR 2500 LIKES! YOU GUYS ARE THE BEST, SERIOUSLY.

taglist:

@joordynn

@taliiiaasteria

@iluvwomen01

[the-peak-tmnt]

Hey The Neon Void readers, quick update from the author's sister!

(art commission by @kaysdenofchaos)

Hi readers of The Neon Void fanfic. This is the author’s older sister. She’s been getting a lot of fan art and asks lately. She’s sent me screenshots of a few unanswered ones looking for advice on how to respond.

While all the love and support of TNV is genuinely appreciated, my sister @sugarpasteltmnt is not equipped to respond to a small handful of these asks/comments that are, quite frankly, inappropriate.

Sugarpastels is not a therapist, and she’s certainly not an internet stranger’s therapist.

She’s an adult with an extremely demanding and stressful job for a very large client. Some of you have already experienced and enjoyed her work IRL without knowing it. Her company is close to finishing another project that will bring a lot of joy to hundreds of thousands of people every year, but working on a project of that scale is extremely stressful.

She is writing this fanfic for fun. TNV is a way for her to decompress and put her creative energy towards something other than work.

What’s not fun is coming home to asks/comments from readers who are projecting their own struggles/mental health onto TNV, and even Sugarpastels herself, and demanding some sort of attention from her over it.

Let’s be real: it’s fun to watch our blorbos suffer! So much of fandom is just us putting our favorite characters in Situations because it’s fun. Simple as that. But I think another reason TNV has resonated so strongly with readers is because of the way Sugarpastels writes the internal struggles of these characters.

We are both aware that TNV deals with mental health topics. Since the early days of “modern” fandom, fanfiction has been a way for people to explore complicated, difficult and sometimes even taboo subjects. There’s no shortage of complex feelings being explored in TNV, which is why we’re all having so much fun reading it.

But that’s all it is; an exploration. Sugarpastels is not a mental health expert. I’ve read a handful of books on PTSD and mindfulness for research while writing my own fanfic, and I would never consider myself prepared to help someone else.

It’s okay if you relate to things from TNV. I know I do! Again, fanfic has always been a way to read about things rarely dealt with (or handled poorly) in published fiction/tv shows/movies. I will always argue one of the greatest things about fanfiction and other fanworks is being able to see ourselves and our own struggles through our favorite fictional characters.

But Sugarpastels is not a fictional character. She’s a real person. Most importantly (to me at least) she’s my little sister, and this big sister cannot handle watching some of her readers expect more of her than is appropriate.

So I’m asking you to please be mindful of what you ask/say to not just her, but literally everyone on the internet. Unless you’re chatting with someone regularly, they do not know you. Whether it’s friends, family, teachers, coaches, etc, there are people in your life who know you personally, and are therefore better equipped to help you than a stranger on the internet.

Sugarpastels is so full of empathy that it’s hard to not feel for you when you send things like this. But it just isn’t fair to put that kind of unnecessary pressure on someone who is, at the end of the day, just trying to have some fun writing about ninja turtles bein’ sad.

(That being said, PLEASE DON’T BE SCARED TO SEND HER ASKS AND FAN ART!!! They make her day every single time and are seriously so, so appreciated. She’s texting me about it constantly how much she loves all of TNV’s readers. This whole post is really directed at an extremely small percentage of her readers, but there have been enough I felt something needed to be said.)

[oneshotnewbie]

Saw an tiktok, and I need YOU to write me a fanfiction about please 🙏 "You've wasted my fucking time. Why are you here?" & "I don't know! Hit me if that makes you feel better!" and then Reader punches them, and the team is kinda proud. Station 19 / Carina x Maya please 💚

- 🎈

𝐴𝑢𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑟𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒: 𝐹𝑜𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑣𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝐼 𝑑𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑟𝑒 𝑆𝑡𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 19 𝑔𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑝 𝑏𝑒𝑐𝑎𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝐼 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑘 𝑖𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑏𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑚𝑦 𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑎. 𝐼 ℎ𝑜𝑝𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡'𝑠 𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑜𝑘𝑎𝑦 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑦𝑜𝑢, 𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑙𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑏𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑛 ♥

𝑆𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: 𝑌𝑜𝑢, 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑒𝑓𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑡 𝑆𝑡𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 19, 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑖𝑚𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑒 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑢𝑟𝑒. 𝑊ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑎 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑢𝑙𝑎𝑟𝑙𝑦 𝑑𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑖𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑜𝑓 𝑆𝑒𝑎𝑛 𝐵𝑒𝑐𝑘𝑒𝑡𝑡 𝑔𝑜𝑒𝑠 𝑤𝑟𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑙𝑚𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑑𝑖𝑒 𝑑𝑢𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑤𝑟𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑢𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠, 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓 𝑖𝑛 𝑎 𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑟𝑙𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑑 𝑜𝑓 𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓-𝑑𝑜𝑢𝑏𝑡

ᕚ---ᕘ

Sirens blared through the streets of Seattle as the Station 19 fire engine screeched around the corner. In the middle of the loud and chaotic hustle and bustle, you, the young firefighter on this team, sat with your heart pounding and a knot in your stomach. You had already been on numerous missions in the last few months, but this mission was different and more difficult than anything you had experienced before.

You were the youngest on the team, the newcomer, fresh out of the fire academy. You felt the pressure on you every time you slipped into your protective gear and made your way to the scene. But today that pressure seemed unbearable.

Sean Beckett, an actual experienced firefighter and team leader, gave the commands. His tone was harsh, but something about him was off. You saw it in his appearance, his looks and felt it in your gut that something was wrong. But what you didn't realized was that you would end up in a situation that would spiral out of control.

As you entered the burning multi-story building, you were hit with instant heat and the smoke made it hard to see. Sean gave instructions, but they sounded wrong, confusing. He repeated them several times, slurring every other word and often took routes around instead of getting to the point. You hesitated, but you couldn't stop following the instructions. You had to follow them so as not to rob the team of security and you trusted the decades of experience and authority of your team leader. But Sean Beckett hadn't told you that the floor you were in was already in danger of collapsing before the fire. Even though he had well-known beforehand.

Suddenly, part of the ceiling on the third floor collapsed and the fire spread rapidly. You ducked tot he side and were torn apart from your team. In the midst of the chaos, you also briefly lost your bearings. When your vision was clear again and the mixture of smoke and dust had cleared, you noticed a wildly waving hand fighting for your attention in the corner, calling for help.

"Captain, the ceiling collapsed and I was separated from the others. I suffered no injuries but I did spot a civilian that I am heading towards now." you said, running to save the person. But as you got closer, you realized it was too late. The man was severely trapped under a larger piece of concrete and the fire had already spread onto the walls where he was buried next to. You tried desperately to remove the mass from him but it was hopeless - you would never get the concrete block off him on your own.

You heard muffled screams behind you. Maya, Jack and Andy looked for you, but you couldn't leave, you were now trapped by the fire that had spread around you. The flames drew closer and you knew you were in danger. "Beckett, I'm stuck. The flames have trapped me, I need help."

But there was no answer. Nothing. Only silences that came to you inexplicably. "Beckett! Are you there? I need help!" you shouted desperately, looking around in panic. You tried to face your team, screaming for their names, and at that moment the dust above you trickled before the other part of the ceiling collapsed on you.

Everything went black and for a moment you thought this was the end. But then you heard your team's voices once again, this time closer and felt the slow shaking of the ground. Steps. Before hands grabbed you. You were pulled from the rubble.

As you looked around, briefly sitting down on one of the blocks to take a deep breath, you saw the worried faces of your colleagues. Andy stood there, her face marred by smoke and ash. She was limping as she pulled you up to get you back on your feet. "Are you okay?" She asked and you nodded silently, unable to speak.

A sudden wave of anger and self-doubt bubbled up inside you. Sean hadn't answered, had put you in danger, almost killed you because he didn't give instructions. And now a person lay dead in the rubble. The thoughts tormented you and grew stronger as the mission ended. You didn't know how to deal with it. But you promised yourself that you would hold Sean accountable for yourself and for everyone else on the team who was put in danger by him.

The smell of smoke and burnt materials still lingered in your hair as the team returned to the station. The operation had been disastrous and the mood was depressed. You felt especially worn out after almost losing your own life and those of others due to false commands given by Sean Beckett or his failure to respond at all.

The team gathered in the locker room to remove equipment and discuss the day's events. You sat quietly, your gaze fixed on the floor, while the others engaged in tired conversation and licked their wounds.

Finally Sean Beckett came in, his expression serious and tense. He was aware that something between him and you needed to be resolved and as he approached you, he could already feel the cold breath of anger radiating from you. "Y/n, I think we need to have a talk. In my office."

You abruptly stood up from Andy's side where you had been helping tend to her knee, your gaze locked on Sean as you confronted him in front of everyone. "Do it in front of everyone and tell them that you ignored my calls and I almost died because of it!" you spat in frustration, putting your arms under your chest before continuing. "You wasted my damn time and almost killed me. Why are you here if you can't give clear instructions?"

The words echoed in the locker room and an oppressive silence fell over the team. All eyes turned to Sean, who seemed speechless for a moment, sipping from his plastic cup before going back to proving his strength, completely off track. "I don't know! Hit me if it makes you feel better!" his voice shook and your fists clenched with emotion and pure anger.

The team froze as the situation threatened to escalate. Suddenly and unpredictably, with a look of immense frustration and determination on your face, you lunged and punched him in the face. A thud filled the cabin, followed by a moment of silence and the crack of the cup, its contents spilling all over the resilient flooring. Then there were loud shouts of surprise from the team, some hands of Maya and Warren holding parts of your body to pull you back.

Sean staggered back, surprised by the unexpected attack but also by the force of emotions that erupted from you. You hadn't held back, but had given free rein to your desperation. "And if you want to denounce me to the union about it, I will personally go there and tell them about you drinking on shift. Others may shy away from it because of the fear, but certainly not me."

As the excitement slowly died down and Sean pulled away without further words, Sullivan squeezed past you while Victoria still held you close, afraid that you would walk after him and smack him again, and inspected the liquid on the floor more accurate.

His fingers dipped into the brown liquid before he put them to his nose, his facial expression contorting sharply. "Whiskey. How did you know?" He asked you immediately, his gaze serious while pride nestled in his eyes. "His statements were unclear. Shy of light. Pale skin. Shaking while driving. Not to mention the stench that emanated from him just as he spoke to me."

The team realized you didn't need a protective cover and could fight your own battles. Andy had hugged you tightly from behind and spoke with a quiet smile. "You have shown that you are not only the youngest, but also one of the bravest and strongest here. We are proud of you."

You were celebrated for your authenticity and strength while feeling exhausted and relieved by the support of the team. The incident had changed something - not only in the relationship between you and your captain, but also in your self-confidence and your position within the team. You were no longer a newcomer, but a full member.

[coupsie-daisies]

Kinktober '23: Thigh Riding | Lee Jihoon

Pairing: Lee Jihoon x Fem!Reader

Genre: Smut (minors DO NOT interact), canon compliant if that's an issue

Summary: When Pledis brought in another producer to help with Woozi's workload, his ability to focus began to wane. Luckily for him, she noticed it too.

WC: 2k

Warnings: thigh riding, woozi is kinda talkative, praise, explicit kissing, titty sucking, woozi feels like a pervert but he doesn't really act like it

A/N: Dinner is served, eat well. Also check out my donations and commissions here, and consider reblogging them for me

Tags: @dragonofthenorth0726 // @wooyussy // @burningupp-replies // @bunnypig18 // @decaffedthoughts // @brownieracha // @ferrethyun // @walkxthexmoon // @aesteraceae // @wonuqrtz // @mixling-blog // @wonwooz1-blog

Main Masterlist

Kinktober '23 Masterlist

This fanfiction is property of @/coupsie-daisies, reposting on any platform is prohibited

Jihoon tried harder than anyone knew to be a kind, respectable, dependable, respectable person. And, generally speaking, people thought he did a good job. He knew he was a workaholic, spent too much time cooped up in his studio working on songs for his group, for other musicians, for nobody but himself, but his studio was one of the only places that Jihoon generally felt he was at his best. He was good at that, good at making music that made people feel things, that told a story. He was proud of that.

So he was especially proud when he was introduced to you, all bright eyed and bushy tailed as you were introduced as a new producer working under Pledis entertainment. It meant the two of you would work closely together. He knew that part of the reason you'd been hired was to help take some of the stress off of him. So it was hard not to appreciate your presence in his place of solitude.

You were so sickeningly sweet sometimes, doting on him and the members, coming with snacks or full meals or even just coffees in hand - though when you brought him coffee, you also brought him a bottle of water, insisting that hydration was just as important as caffeination. He probably would have been annoyed if it was anyone else, but Jihoon found it incredibly difficult to be annoyed with you.

Maybe the best part of having you work with him was that you were an amazing producer. He was amazed to find out that you hadn't produced for any big name artists yet, that you yourself had been shocked at being hired by Pledis, applying on a whim. You challenged his ideas, managing to bring out the best creations he thought he'd ever made, and you bounced ideas off of him so easily. Most of all, he was enamored with the way that you understood him, you got the way his brain worked, the way he created.

An album later and the two of you were an inseparable team. Which, unfortunately for Jihoon, was beginning to threaten his kind, respectable nature. Because there you were in his studio, the lights casting glows across your skin, across your exposed collarbones and your pretty, soft face, and your hair was pulled back into a ponytail that he was becoming desperate to wrap his hand in. Because as much as he wanted to be a good person, you brought out a downright perverted side of him. He'd been struggling for weeks as the two of you worked on writing a song for another artist together. He'd become too aware of the way you tapped your pen against your pretty lips, and the way that you whined when you stretched your back, and the way that your eyes rolled to the back of your head when you got frustrated with your work.

"Hoon?" You asked, waving a hand in front of his face. He blinked, suddenly very aware of how close you were, that he could smell the honey and cinnamon shampoo you used, and that he could see straight down the front of your shirt where your tits were pushed together. Oh, and the way that his cock was twitching to life, beginning to fill out in his sweatpants. He cleared his throat, eyes snapping up to yours. "What's going on in your head? You haven't heard a word of what I said."

He opened his mouth, finding himself at a loss for words because, honestly, he couldn't even explain what was going on in his head if he wanted to. He shook his head, moving his chair a little further from you and turning back to the track he'd been working on.

"Nothing, just tired."

"You should rest, we've been here all day. Take a nap, I'll order some food," You said, standing up to nudge him towards the couch. He shook his head, shrugging your hand off his shoulder. You pouted, grabbing his chair instead and spinning him around. He felt a wave of panic wash through him, fully aware of how achingly hard he was now that he was exposed to you.

"Seriously, I'm fine. Don't worry so much. Let's just finish this." He said, face beginning to warm. You narrowed your eyes at him, scanning his face. "Y/N,"

"What?" 

"Stop looking at me like that." He said, voice tight and dropping lower than you'd heard it. You suppressed a shiver.

"Like what?" You asked him, but of course you knew. You'd been trying to push him to stop staring at you and actually make a move for months now, but he was so goddamn respectful, so absolutely devoted to being kind that he was willing to overlook every blatantly flirty remark and too-intimate touch.

"Like you want me to do something we'll both regret." He said, clenching his jaw. You leaned closer, one of yours hands moving slowly up the length of his arm, over the muscle of his shoulder, down the slope of his chest. So, so slowly that every second felt like it was a hundred heartbeats long when that's all that Jihoon could hear rushing in his ears.

"Who says I'll regret anything?" You asked, voice hardly above a whisper, and your eyes baring down on his. He fought the urge to kiss you, to pull you closer to him and say fuck all the rules and regulations. He choked back the burning desire that you were so willingly stoking.

"Y/N,"

"Would you regret it?" You asked him, reaching up to tip his chin up, dipping your head closer until you could feel his shaky breath against your cheek. "Tell me you don't want to touch me. Say it and we act like this never happened."

You gave him a beat, and then another. The tension drew tight as neither of you said anything. He watched you as you watched the slow parting of his lips, then watched them press back together in silence. You leaned in, pressing your lips to his and melting into the taste of him.

Instantly his hands found your waist, pulling you down onto his lap. You didn't break the kiss as you adjusted to straddle him in the chair, pressing yourself firmly against him as he pulled you closer. His tongue prodded against the seam of your lips, eagerly being welcomed inside. He tasted of soda and chewing gum, and you were addicted to it. Your hands found his hair, long enough now for him to tie up - not that he usually did unless he was deep in a track.

"Jihoon," You whined when he pulled away, bottom lip jutting out in a dramatic pout at the loss of his kiss. He hummed in response, mouth finding your jaw and leaving slow, warm kisses down the curve of it. You inhaled softly, your complaints dying on your tongue. He nipped at your pulsepoint, dragging his tongue over it before moving on to mark your skin just above the neckline of your shirt.

You pulled away, tugging the fabric over your head and tossing it onto your chair. He sighed at the sight of you bared for him, hands moving up your sides, higher to cup your breasts over the thin fabric of your bra. He swore he could look at you like this all day, memorize every scar and stretch mark and dip of your body. You, on the other hand, weren't half as patient. You reached behind you, unhooking your bra and letting it slide down your arms. Jihoon took it upon himself to discard the useless piece of fabric, dipping his head to kiss along the curve of your tits.

"Take these off, too." He said, pushing at the waistband of your sweatpants. You stood up, pushing them down your legs and kicking them aside before settling yourself on his lap again. He shifted your weight, settling you over one of his thighs, his shorts exposing enough skin that the only thing keeping him from the warmth of your core was the flimsy pair of panties you had on.

Jihoon cursed, feeling the way your hole leaked over his leg, soaking the fabric of your underwear.

"Need me so bad, don't you?" He asked, returning diligently to his self-appointed task of kissing over every inch of your chest. You nodded, words lost when his warm mouth wrapped around one of your nipples. Your hips rocked into the firm muscle of his thigh, desperate for any ounce of stimulation other than helplessly clenching your walls around nothing.

He gripped your hips tight, and you assumed it was to stop you from seeking your pleasure, but instead he pressed you harder into his thigh, tensing the muscles underneath you to perfectly drag against your clit. He teased his teeth over your nipple at the same time, and you closed your eyes. One of your hands returned to his hair, the other gripping at his shoulder to keep your balance.

With a steady, demanding hand, he guided you to grind against his thigh. You chewed on your lip, trying to keep your wits about you as you fucked yourself on his thigh. You didn't want to seem as desperate as your body was, but your dripping hole was giving you away, leaving a puddle of your arousal on his skin that he was a little bit addicted to.

"Let me hear you," He demanded, pulling his head away from your tits, and looking up into your eyes. Your stomach twisted and fluttered at the depth of his voice. You shook your head a little, nervous to be too loud despite the studio being soundproofed for production purposes. But Jihoon was having none of it.

He tugged your lip from between your teeth, hooking his thumb into your mouth and holding your face steady, eyes on him and body feeling too warm under his attention. His other hand didn't let up, still pushing and pulling you against him and rutting you down against him like a bitch in heat.

You whined, the sound coming out loud and clear and earning a satisfied look from Jihoon underneath you.

"Good girl," He praised, and your walls crumbled around you, every inhibition slipping out of your mind as you gave him more of what he wanted. He watched the way you followed his lead, half sucking on his thumb and half moaning around it as he got you off without hardly touching you at all.

"Please, need more." You mumbled, words slurred around his digit. He pulled it out, a trail of saliva smearing against your chin.

"No you don't, baby. You can cum like this. Try harder." He pushed you, using his spit-slicked thumb to play with your hardened nipples, circling over each one slowly, then the other, then back again while you chased your high. The burn in your thighs was getting to you, and your clit was throbbing with the desperate need to cum, to be full of him, but instead all you were getting was the grating stimulation of his leg against your clothed cunt.

You dropped your head against his shoulder, clinging to him and chasing the feeling of relief. He hummed, kissing the side of your head and bouncing his leg up against you, watching the way you shuddered in his arms at the stimulation.

"C'mon, know you can do it. Cum on my thigh like this and I'll fuck you. That's what you want, right? Just gotta cum first." He coaxed in your ear, and the sound of his voice sent you spiraling. You weren't even sure if it was his words or the way you were humping him, but your orgasm hit you like a train, knocking your breath out of you with a broken moan.

He slowed your hips down, letting you ride out your high and feeling the way you were literally dripping against him, warm and wet where your core was still fluttering against his thigh. He turned your head to press a kiss to your lips, this one much more gentle than the last.

"See, that wasn't so hard, was it?" He cooed, a proud glint in his eyes. You made it damn hard to be a respectable man when you looked so easy to ruin in his arms. But luckily for him, you didn't care about him being respectable, you just wanted him to take you the way you both wanted. The way you both would definitely not be regretting.

copyright 2023 coupsie-daisies, all rights reserved

[brokenpieces-72]

Monster!141 x female! Jackalope/wendigo reader

CW/TW: poor eating habits, mentions of eating, mentions of human meat, crying, younger reader, note: in no way am I intending to offend anyone.

This was inspired by both @diejager and @bluegiragi and includes the reader character Hunter. This is also my first fanfiction being posted here and I have a couple to come if this one goes well.

A program is set up for hybrids that are considered difficult to control or dangerous to be around in public. Usually this is when their current living conditions are deemed as unsafe.

A jackalope with little knowledge of their own self fits both sides so locations and positions are set up for them to be in a safe controlled environment to learn how to keep themselves under control.

Price isn’t exactly happy when Laswell brings this to him. He’s not a babysitter and neither are his men. She explains to him there is little to be done and while she doesn’t agree with sending a vulnerable, uneducated, untrained teenager to a military base that deals with monsters, humans and hybrids alike, there isn’t much she can do either. Thankfully she does have some say in it, able to choose who comes on to the base. The files for candidates are sent to Price as well for review and upon looking at yours with a very dark and concerning past, he considers tossing it aside. Then he sees what hybrid you are. Having a few encounters in his past with hybrids like you he figures it would be safer taking you in then letting someone else get to you.

You do receive some training before transferring with a Retainer/handler who watches over you and determines whether you are ready to integrate into society. You aren’t sure if this will really help you join society but you figure it’s better someone taking you in rather than staying in the program. Price intends to put you to work after all and the location isn’t without risk. You’re told there are other hybrids on base, and you assume there will be at least a couple.

The first person you meet is Nikolai, the pilot for the awkward bumpy flight to base. He’s almost twice your height, plenty of people you have met are. You’re not very tall so not surprising, but you aren’t very used to people. Part of the program especially for you is keeping you isolated from most humans. His friendly attitude towards you is a little startling but you warm up to it quickly.

The flight was mostly your retainer setting ground rules and briefing you on what you will be doing. You would be training with him mostly, and doing everything he says. No stuffing your face, meals kept strict, and no seconds or late snacks. Nikolai calls you to the front halfway through the journey and lets you sit next to him. He could overhear your conversation with the retainer, wanted to give you a break from it while wanting to learn more about you.

You don’t have much to say, cause well you haven’t done much on your own. Well you do enjoy drawing, and reading. Sometimes writing is fun but that’s mostly it so far. He tells you a bit about the 141, recounting the small tales but while hinting at what hybrids you’ll be working with.

Soon you land on the base and exit the chopper heading towards the Task Force 141. In front is a dragon hybrid and next to him is a human, both in uniform. Names are exchanged and you’re led inside the base where you meet the others. You notice he’s missing a wing and his tail wrapping around the human’s leg. As a hybrid your instincts tell you what he’s doing. You’re not a massive threat to him being so young, but his body language makes it clear the value he puts in the medic and likely the rest of his men. He read your file, so you can’t blame him for being extra protective. You keep your head down as you’re taken inside with your handler.

You’re introduced to each of the 141 including the human, who asks to do a health assessment before anything else. Your retainer is strongly against this, insisting that you’ve already been cleared and don’t require one. There’s somewhat of a back and forth between them with you simply standing there. Your handler raises his voice and you have to dig your nails into your palm to not run off. You’re wondering if you should offer your own choice or ask someone what you should do while waiting. Price puts it forward that you get a check up so that Hunter can assess your conditions first hand.

You follow Hunter to their station in the infirmary, taking you to a private room. Hunter gets many looks while you follow them from the other soldiers with a couple even following with them to the room. You meet a harpy called Gaz and a werewolf called Soap. They stick closer to Hunter almost in a protective sense. Though each of them give you an acknowledgement. Soap has never smelled a hybrid like you before, and Gaz wasn’t sure what to make of you either. Your rabbit ears and antlers were hardly a cause for alarm though. You weren’t exactly intimidating. Hunter takes you into the private room while the two hybrids wait outside, offering to help them with paperwork and taking you to wherever you need to go next. The examination is very simple, checking to see your vitals, understanding how you worked so Hunter could help you on missions, and learning any instinctual habits you may have.

When Hunter asks you to take off your hoodie and remove your shirt, you do so. Their eyes go wide upon seeing your body. Your retainer’s “work” was evident by your rib cage and flattening stomach.

“When was the last time you ate?” Hunter asks.

When you tell them the last time you ate, they excuse themselves. You wait for about 15 minutes, when there’s a knock telling you to get dressed and come out. Gaz is still there but clearly Soap had left with Hunter. He takes you to a small room for you to bunk in for the next while.

You later find out Hunter had left the room and smacked your retainer for his methods. Even Price had to get involved to keep the two from getting more violent. Hunter is certainly a force to be reckoned with when it comes to patients. The handler believes that limiting your food intake will help you keep control. Hunter doesn’t agree with starving you, but Price can’t really argue with it.

The next while you’re training, and you do everything you can to keep up. Your limits are pushed and Price isn’t about to go easy on you. Partially cause he hopes the retainer will increase your food intake. It’s a lot, and Hunter doesn’t like seeing you running laps and drills knowing you haven’t been eating much. You push yourself hard, not giving in to judgements from humans or the other hybrids. It doesn’t matter if you’re the last or the worst or even fail the most, you keep pushing.

Meals are strict, with small but reasonable portions for you and eating by yourself in your room. For the next while this becomes the routine, with the occasional snack being slid to you by Hunter. It does make sleep difficult and your stomach growls periodically. Soap takes notice right away how bad it is, your stomach is almost like a random alarm for him, that he can’t shut off.

“You hungry?” He asks sarcastically. You shake your head, only for your stomach to object again. Soap rolls his eyes.

“Take a couple.” He says offering you some of his snacks. When you try to turn it down, he starts insisting harder. “Come on, the noise is drivin me bloody mad. Take em, a few won’t kill ya.”

You do so, and you take another couple after. Soon enough he’s slipping you pieces of his snacks when your handler isn’t around, like chips or cookies.

You have to go to school still, off base and some jerks decided to lock in a closet. Despite your protests and pleas they decide to leave you there overnight. You have a few snacks but you can feel yourself getting increasingly hungry, and you know it won’t be long until you lose it. You try your handler but they aren’t picking up. You don’t want to but you call Soap who picks up groggily.

“The hell is callin…” he groans.

“Soap it’s me…I’m really sorry…” there is a quiver in your voice as you talk.

“…kid? The bleeding hell you still doing up? Wait, where the ell are you?”

You explain you’re stuck and hungry and really need help.

“Alright alright…I’m on my way… you need food?”

“Yes.”

He sighs and asks what you want to eat, if there’s any comfort food you have while he’s getting his shoes and pants on.

“Are you mad…” you ask in a small voice he can just barely hear over the phone. He’s been in highschool as a hybrid and had people pick on him, call him a mutt yank at his tail, try to get him in trouble and whatnot.

“I’m mad at the pieces of shite that did this to you. What do you want to eat?” He says. You tell him and wait patiently after he hangs up.

Gaz is woken up, and looks over.

“Was goin on…” Gaz asks.

“Kid is stuck at school. Literally.” Soap says, lacing his shoes.

“She have food?” Gaz mutters rubbing sleep out of his eyes.

“No, so I’m getting her some.”

“What she want?” Gaz yawns.

Soap tells him and he orders it for pick up before getting dressed himself.

“What is she still doing at school?” Gaz asked pulling his hoodie on. “Little help?”

Soap helps get Gaz’s wings through the slots on his hoodie as he explains. Gaz can relate. He’s been bullied as well, and hell you’re a kid with a strong will. It’s not fair for you to be pushed so hard only for school to make you feel like shit. They pick up the food and head over to the school.

“Come on.” Soap jogs to the door and tries it. “Mother…they don’t check if anyone’s still inside?”

Gaz takes one of his feathers off and picks the lock. Gaz opens it and Soap shifts and gets in, as soon as he can fit through the door.

“Kid you here?” He yells. Nothing. Gaz comes up behind him.

“I want to make a lassie joke so hard right now.” Gaz admits, while Soap picks up your scent and hurries off up and down the halls, trying to figure out where you are. He starts scratching at a maintenance door. Gaz knocks on it.

“Kid you in there?” He calls.

“Y-yes!” You call back.

“We’re gonna help you okay? Just hold tight.”

“Gaz move.” Soap says. Gaz just barely gets out of the way before Soap manages to smash it in. They find you curled up and clutching your stomach. Gaz flaps away the dust before stepping over the broken remains of the door. He gives you the bag ripping it open and you hands go in quickly. You ravenously eat away at the first thing you get, a still warm hashbrown. One bite and you stand up but Gaz keeps you sitting.

“Don’t choke, finish that first.” He orders. You do as he says a mutter through mouthfuls, “sorry.”

“So what exactly happened?” Soap asks.

“They pulled my ears and kept asking to see my tail… kept telling them I didn’t have one.” You mutter, finishing the hashbrown. “A few of them grabbed me and shoved me in here…kept calling me ‘bunny’ and ‘rabbit’. Said they would stuff me later.”

“No one’s stuffing anything except the assholes that did this and where it don’t shine.” Soap growls. In the dark it’s a little more intimidating with yellow glowing eyes. Gaz stretches a wing around you and gives you another piece of the order to munch on while he helps you out of the room. You go on about how they kept messing with you in various childish ways. The bullies had yanked your ears, played with your antlers and called you a bunny breeder. Gaz and Soap get you into the backseat and encourage you to keep eating.

“You got made fun of by the teachers pet?” Soap asked a little surprised.

“He said I was the new class pet.” You say. “Then he wouldn’t stop saying I had to eat carrots and wasn’t allowed to have any of the snacks I brought.”

“You ignore em?”

“Tried, but then he started telling me I shouldn’t be snacking and had to eat ruffage.”

“Wow…” Gaz says. “You could always threaten to gnaw on his pencils.”

“How’s the food?” Soap calls from the front.

“Good. I should stop though.”

“You almost finished?” Soap says checking on you in the rear view.

“Uh…halfway?” You relay after checking the bags contents.

“Keep eating.” Soap says.

Gaz gives Soap a look.

“One meal won’t kill her.” Soap says quietly.

“Thank you for getting me.” You say.

“Hunter would have my head.”

Sadly your bonding time doesn’t go unnoticed and Price calls you all into the office. Your handler is unhappy you didn’t try contacting him first, and you stay quiet. Price chews out Soap and Gaz for B&E and property damage, until they explain what had happened to you. He’s a bit more lenient but not by much.

You, Soap and Gaz have definitely bonded more and at this point you’ve sort of become the team’s pup. Soap and Gaz teach you to fight hand to hand, and they’re careful with you at first. You’re younger and smaller but you don’t hold back against them. They show you some maneuvers and Gaz uses his hardened feathers for knife training, going slow and giving you the chance to bat away his strikes. Off time is spent with them, getting a chance to go climbing or hanging out in the rec room. Soap teaches you how to play football, and Rudy and Alejandro join in as well. Soap and Alejandro definitely start showing off their speed and strength to the point you and Rudy find it safer to watch from the sidelines with Gaz. One wrong kick makes all your caution warranted, as you have to shove Rudy over and the ball takes off part of your antler and is pierced in the process. Hunter gave Soap a very harsh talking to afterwards, and made sure you were okay.

Your handler over time becomes less and less involved with you but maintains your eating routine. He keeps your training high giving you exercises daily, that keep you busy from dusk til dawn. It’s exhausting and Hunter does express some concern to your handler who eventually gives in and increases your food intake some more.

Soap and Gaz have basically taken over your sparring sessions, keeping you trained and ready for anything. You have found a couple weaknesses when you go one on one. If Soap shifts to werewolf, you can get him with belly rubs.

Rudy had started showing you some tracking skills, and even introduced you to his dog spirits. Both spirits are weary of you at first with the red and black growling while the other stayed close to its vessel protectively. After calming them, Alejandro shifts to a panther or jaguar based on the terrain and becomes the target to track. At first he makes it easy but since you don’t hold back on Soap and Gaz he doesn’t hold back on you. You and Rudy both have to try and find him before he finds you, which is a bit of a 50-50. Your own skills as a hybrid are shown to be useful in more wild and natural terrain. In fact you become the one to be the target and the two of them actually find some difficulty locating you.

“She couldn’t have gotten that far yet…” Rudy is scratching his head, genuinely dumbfounded. Alejandro shifts back next to him looking at his partner.

“Fast learner.” He comments, impressed by your skills.

“Si.” Rudy sighs before jerking forward, hit in the back from behind. “Agh!”

Alejandro checks Rudy’s jacket and finds a stain from a paintball. They both look up and towards where the shot had come from. There they see you behind a tree covered in dirt and mud, trying to hold back the grin on your face. The two men look at you surprised, and even Alejandro is stunned that he couldn’t detect you, while the white and blue cadejo trots over and barks at you, tugging at your clothes with his teeth. The two men look at each other baffled how you got 15 feet away from them without either noticing. Alejandro waves you over to them, while the cadejo playfully tugs at your jacket.

“Fall in corporal, back to base.” He calls over and you get up from your hiding spot. Your legs were dirty and…wet? The ground was damp but you were almost soaked.

“You take a bath Mija?” Alejandro asks crossing his arms.

“No sir.” You answer, shaking your head.

“You’re wet though.” Rudolfo comments, noticing the state of your pants as well.

“Yes sir.” You reply. Alejandro gives a half grin.

“Why are you wet corporal?” He asks.

“The river sir.” You answer. They hadn’t told you about the river nearby, not to mention it was a few clicks further than they had expected you to reach. You take note of their expression and shift slightly in place. “Should I not have…?”

“Por el contrario, you did very well Mija.” Rudolfo says.

“Very good.” Alejandro comments. “You cold?” He asks. You shake your head. There was a chill but it didn’t bother you. They take you back to base.

Missions go fairly well though you are often knocked down. It can be hard when you’re up against many other hybrid creatures. Ghost comes to your aid before any fatal blows can be made, consuming enemies in his shadows when he wasn’t slipping out of them to slit enemy throats. The lieutenant didn’t agree with bringing someone as young as you on missions, and hated that he was playing babysitter half the time. Ghost can sense something off about you though. Maybe it’s your smiling, or your friendliness, of this odd presence that seems to surround you like an aura. Either way, you show yourself to be a fast learner and strong soldier. Your main focus is to incapacitate enemies, even though you’ve been taught where vitals are and how to use a gun and a knife quickly.

“Would make life easier to kill… that’s what soldiers do.” He comments. You look out at the men he’s fed on. You’re quiet thinking for a moment before responding.

“If I killed all of them though…you wouldn’t get to eat as much.” You say with a cheeky smile. His expression doesn’t change.

“Don’t worry too much. Focus on your safety first.”

“Yes sir.” You say losing the smile. He’s not wrong. After that you ask Ghost for help with laying killing strikes. Not in the field but in training. He agrees mainly because you’ve shown promise and a willingness to improve yourself. Knife training with him is rough usually leading to you getting winded and on your back.

The hands on learning is honestly better than anything else though and your exercise routines just become a warm up. You look forward to everything and take everything seriously, asking questions and showing interest in what is presented to you. Weapons training is a bit daunting, as the guns are a bit heavy, but you find your skills work good with unconventional weapons. A slingshot proves strong with you, and even crossbows. Price helps you with improving your poor aim and there are times where you will spend almost an entire night just trying to hit the targets set in front of you.

Your handler is an afterthought except when you get invited to eat with them. He’s right there ready to tell you you can’t eat with them and your food is in your room. You excuse yourself and eat alone again. However on the nights he’s away you do take the opportunity to sit with them, and just bring your food out of your room. The amount while bigger is still small for a soldier, even for a teenager. Most of them assume it’s an insecurity for you so they don’t pressure you to eat more, or comment on it. Soap offers some of his snacks still.

Hunter is instructed when the handler goes on leave to give you meals he has premade for you. They have half a mind to toss them and get you to eat with everyone else, however much you wanted, but they leave the opaque container in your room as instructed.

You don’t eat any of it though. You recognize the smell and are both disturbed and distraught. No. Not that. Memories come flooding back, ones you wanted to stay buried. It takes everything not to break down, and your stomach is churning and begging for sustenance.

Do you tell someone? Would anyone believe you? Should you eat it? No of course not! But you’re so hungry and your mouth is watering. The scent makes your stomach do hard and painful flips, as if there was a grinding wheel whipping around in your belly. You try to look for snacks that you may have hung on to from Hunter but find nothing. The hunger starts to consume your thoughts faster than you’ve consumed anything. Your body starts to alter, you teeth grow sharper, your sense of smell grows stronger and you cling to yourself.

Hungry hungry hungry…starved…

You act fast and get your pillow case, tying it in your mouth, before getting your hoodie on and bolting. You’re fairly agile in your human form and your desire for sustenance drives you forward. Meat is everywhere but you don’t want it. You don’t want to want it. Any soldiers you pass, you keep your head down, and rush past them. You don’t even look up for your teammates calling for you, and instead bolt faster. You finally get outside and sprint for the woods with soldiers calling after you, and trying to stop you to figure out what’s going on. It isn’t long before your body shifts and contorts and you smell meat nearby.

Eat…eat…

Your sudden leave doesn’t go unnoticed. At first, your team saw you and thought you had to hurry somewhere or didn’t see them. Then Alejandro and Soap passed your door while talking.

“Hunter really told you no more football?” Alejandro asks.

“Won’t stop me from playan, but they did warn mae ‘bou-“ Soap and Alejandro both freeze in place smelling the food in your room, the door shut. What the fuck? They look at each other disturbed and in shock. Soap opens the door and his eyes widen in shock seeing what was inside the container.

“Steamin bloody Jesus.” He says while covering his nose and mouth with an arm. Flies buzzed around the human organs you were served in the container.

“The hell kind of diet is this, Mija?” Alejandro says under his breath. Soap puts the lid back on and takes it to Hunter. No way they would do this, but they likely knew who did.

“OI! Hunter!” Soap yells.

“Soap! Gods, please knock next ti-“

“The bloody hell is this!?” He demands holding up the container. Hunter is confused.

“The corporal’s meal? Why do you ha-“

Without wasting anymore time he sets it down and opens the lid enough for them to see. Hunter stands up from their desk quickly, and in shock.

“Soap the fuck is wrong wi-“ Hunter starts.

“The fuck kind of meal is this!” Alejandro barks.

“What?!” Hunter is just as confused.

“This is the corporal’s meal.” Alejandro clarifies.

Hunter is just as disturbed as they are and goes into the storage where the rest of your meals were being kept for the time of his leave. They found more organs and human remains. Hunter wasn’t sure whether to be pissed, disgusted or distraught.

“What the bloody… I’m taking this to Price immediately this is beyond fucked. Where’s the corporal right now?” Hunter demands to know. Soap recalls seeing you running down the hall.

“She’s run off.” Soap concludes. Hunter takes a moment to breath and calm themselves, somewhat relieved.

“She could be anywhere by now.” Alejandro adds recalling your tracking lessons.

Hunter heads for the door and the two hybrids follow as they go to the captain’s office. He looks up from some papers before standing, seeing the door open.

“The corporal is MIA.” Hunter states. Price is confused until they explain what was in the food. Price is angry, ready to roast the retainer upon his return but you are more important along with any bystanders. A search is put out and human soldiers are instructed to stay on base while Task Force 141 along with Rudy and Alejandro track you down. Price knew there was too much of a risk for regular humans to be close to you in this state.

The cadejos catch your scent and lead the search with Rudy keeping a watchful eye for any movement. Alejandro and Soap follow the scent and cadejos with Hunter riding Soap’s back to assist them. Gaz had taken to the sky trying to find you from above and cover more ground. The scent is how they follow you but they know you’re in the area by the sounds of screeches and unearthly clicking. Price hasn’t heard noises like that in a very long time. Ghost advises caution to everyone while he moves through the shadows and senses death all around them. He soon finds it as well.

At first a couple of bisected birds and bitten voles were traces. The deeper they went the bigger the animals. Soon it was small boars that had their meat stripped. There were a few large birds that had managed to escape but were bleeding. A few foxes were limping and cowering in their dens. When the team finally found you they kept their distance with Ghost being the closest to you, discovering why he had felt uneasy around you.

You were gorging yourself on the carcass of a large elk, and stuffing handfuls of blood and raw meat into your mouth savouring every bite. Dark crimson caked your mouth and hands as you continued eating, getting into your hair every time you decided to literally stuff your face. Your boney limbs and sharp fingers clawed pieces off and your jagged sharp teeth tore into thicker, tougher parts. Gaz lands in one of the tall trees while Alejandro circles around slowly and quietly planning to flank you if you tried to bolt, his oanthef form slinking around in the underbrush keeping distant and cautious. Soap proceeds closer, slowly. He has Hunter on his back and at the moment was a muscled riot shield for them. You continued feeding ignoring them all, when Soap noticed the screeching had stopped and heard your muffled whimpers and sobs mixed in with the sounds of your eating.

He moves closer and closer, letting Hunter walk next to him.

You stop eating to wipe your mouth fruitlessly. That’s when you notice the large wolf standing before you, staring at you with eyes that seemed to glow in the dark. In the moonlight he could see your tears, lightly cutting through the blood and grime on your face. Your eyes were pure white, and almost void of life. Hunter came up next to him, and you start to scramble back, worried you might go for them.

“Hey hey, no it’s okay. You’re okay…” they reach into their med bag and took out a chocolate bar, tearing off the wrapper for you and offering it. It was like an animal trainer trying to get their charge to trust them. You slowly crawl over, eyes blank and white, but docile.

“Let’s make it a bit smaller.” They mutter. Hunger breaks a piece and you back away again, crawling on all fours. Hunter leans in a bit, offering the smaller piece to you. You take it gingerly and bite down on the candy. When the human medic offers the rest, you dig into it, eating it like nothing had gone wrong. Like you hadn’t run off, shifted and started gorging on the elk carcass right next to you. The area was quiet while your team watched as you continued eating. The snack was so good, so much better than the carcass.

It had happened again. You lost control again. You were a monster and you killed so many innocent animals. Tears continued to fall as the regret set in. When you smell human meat and you’re hungry, it can set you off, making your only thoughts to be “eat”. Animals weren’t as effective hence the number you had taken out. Human food, like the candy, was a middle ground. It would take some time to bring you back to your human state, and taking less to do so.

When you finally spoke, all you could croak out was a small and raspy, “sorry”.

Hunter offers you some more food, proper food, and you eat it slowly, trying not to make yourself sick. First it was the chocolate bar, and then some crackers, an apple, some water, a few carrots. Your beastly features begin to dull, and you feel yourself growing tired. Hunter moves closer with every bite and holds you close while you cry into them, and continue eating the food they give you. Soap curls himself around you preventing escape and trying to comfort you and protect Hunter. Neither of them worries about the blood, they had worse before. Soon you tucker yourself out and Hunter picks you up, and gets back on Soaps back.

“Price, target found and incapacitated. Returning to base.” Ghost said over comms.

“Copy Lt.” Price responded through a long sigh of smoke.

When you woke up you had food next to you on the bed, and Soap asleep in a chair. He wakes up to see you eating the food left for you, and smiles.

“Mornin’ Corporal.” He says.

“I’m sorry.” You say.

“Don’t. You didna do anythin wrong.” He said. He ruffles your hair which you realize had been cut off rather awkwardly. Apparently the blood was too thick to wash, and cutting it was the safer option. You didn’t mind.

For the rest of your handlers leave, your eating becomes top priority. If you try to skip meals, you’re hauled to the mess hall, or get a protein bar in your hand. You get firm reminders that your actions that night are not your fault. Hunter is ensuring you get your meals at regular times, and that you’re staying healthy in your eating habits. They’ve also taken to checking your weight, and body, which regains some pounds. Meanwhile paperwork is being shifted around and sorted and handed and signed making a report about what happened and the illegal obtainment of human organs and their distribution. Laswell is more than pissed and ensures your handler is kept off base for longer than he had intended to be.

A couple months go by of you recovering and getting into a healthier routine. You mention to your team that your form is much different and (you later learn) the one they had seen happens when you get hungry and are unable to eat. With this comes the chance to show off your monsterous form, which leaves them with surprised looks and a bit of shock. Your human form grows and your head is replaced by a deer skull, while your limbs shed skin and are replaced with natural wood, and your rib cage and a few other pieces are beared for them to see. Like Soap your clothes do get torn up, but you prepared with a blanket nearby.

You look down at them, and step back a little while they stare. Price smiles seeing what you are meant to look like, the full spirit creature. Price approaches you first and you go lower for him to meet your eyes. A hand is place on your skull and tilt your head.

“Welcome to the 141.” He says smiling. Soap steps up and shifts to his wolf form. You get down on all fours for him and he gives a soft headbutt against your shoulder which you return.

“Stuck with us now Corporal.” He barks.

Soap helps you feel more comfortable with your form, and helps you learn to move in it as well, alongside Alejandro. You find that while you’re bipedal, running on all fours does have some speed to it. You’re even more of a natural climber, able to launch yourself off large tree trunks and latch on to the next one, making any large enough forest a parkour playground. The cadejos are weary still but Rudolfo continues working with you on tracking. Alejandro is often busy having to assist the captain with paperwork. Gaz starts helping you instead, making your hiding even more fun, since he has the best sight out of everyone. Now you’re the target even more for them to find, which they assume won’t be hard with your immense size but your terrain becomes a part of you, and you it letting you hide almost in plain sight.

Ghost assists you in ways you weren’t expecting, as he helps you feel more comfortable with death. Now your sparring and take down sessions often come with a small talk. Taking a life isn’t easy, and given your story, he wants you to know you’re defending yourself and others. It’s not uncommon for you to get a bit carried away on missions now, as you’re able to charge with Soap into a fray. Your larger size makes it easy for you to forget your surroundings. It leads to more casualties than knock outs. Price even tells you what he knows about wendigos and works on getting as much information from you about the handler as he can. Price lets you use him as a target now for shooting range, given how much better your aim has gotten.

Your team becomes your family as older siblings, uncles and sometimes even dads. They pass on everything they can to you. At this point they’ve come to see you as the pup in their pack, the one they raise into a fighter and protector for the future.

Visual reference for wendigo form

[ryozakidesu]

diary of the heartbreakers;

00z series

╰┈➤ Diary of the Heartbreakers; 00z series

➸ ♡ They used to be the ones breaking hearts, but when karma comes around, suddenly the don't know what to do. Navigate through college life with your favorite idiots, and read through the Diary of the Heartbreakers.

GENRES: College AU, Smut, Fluff, Angst, Humour

WARNINGS: Minors DNI, Explicit sexual content, drug abuse, Infidelity, Toxic relationships/characters, Heavy topics discussed, player!00z, Language and Violence.

AUTHOR's NOTE: I thought long and hard about making this a series, because of my commitment issues and I don't trust myself to commit to a writing project like this TT, But since I have story ideas for these characters, (00z) I just linked all of them together. SLOW UPDATE. Also my first time doing a series, how about that?!? I hope you guys like it!

DISCLAIMER: This story is purely fanfiction. Only the names of the Idols are used, and does not reflect on them in real life. There's no way in any shape of form that they are like this in person, because I MADE IT UP. I don't personally know them. DO NOT STEAL / TRANSLATE / MODIFY. This is my work and I don't appreciate people stealing it. Thank you.

╰┈➤ After You

➸ ♡ Na Jaemin had it easy. Loved by everybody, the man of everyone's dream. He's a perfect mix of a charmer and a player. Girls begged to be his, and he loved every part of it. Life used to be so fucking perfect for him. Then comes you. You're like an old book, ink fading, cover tearing, but he swears you're worth the read. Before you, life was easy. After you? He wasn't so sure.

"Break my heart, and you'll find yourself inside."

GENRE: Angst, Fluff, Smut, Mature themes

WARNINGS: Minors DNI, Explicit sexual content, Language, Mental Illness, Drugs/Alcohol usage, toxic!reader, fuckboy!Jaemin (but still a sweetheart)

AUTHOR's NOTE: Oh, this one's heavy. Much serious than the other stories and quite one that's holds some sensitive topics. If I get some things wrong about certain topics, please do tell me and I'll quickly correct it. Enjoy reading!

Expected WC: 15k

STATUS: published

╰┈➤ Yours, Inevitably

➸ ♡ To say that Lee Jeno is pretty would be an understatement. The man's gorgeous. One thing he uses to his advantage, going through college getting girls he spots his eyes on. But there's one he just couldn't get. His brother's bestfriend. You can continue and avoid your feelings for each other, but eventually, it'll happen. You were someone that stayed, a constant in his life. You might not know it, but for the years you've known Lee Jeno, he slowly became yours, inevitably.

"I should've known that it was you, because no one else made sense."

GENRE: Fluff, Angst, Humour, Smut

WARNINGS: Minors DNI, Explicit sexual content, Language, Alcohol usage, Mentions of Drugs, fuckboy!Jeno, brothersbsf!reader

AUTHOR's NOTE: This story was collecting dust on my drafts for so longg! Originally I was gonna post it as a stand-alone but figured it made sense to be a part of this series. One of my faves. Also lots of other members of nct mentioned. Enjoy reading!

Expected WC: 13k - 15k

STATUS: published

╰┈➤ The Fine Art of Rejection

➸ ♡ Huang Renjun, the sweetie of the year, is one hard star to catch. Not as easy as his other friends, he's quite difficult to have. Although he has a fair share of affairs with girls, it is considered to be a rare occurence. But you? Oh boy were you something. You were quite head over heels over him. His friends could never understand, but you were persistent to get the boy. No matter how much he refuses your advances, Its like you found art in rejection. But to what degree can you hold it out?

"I can be everything I want, but fuck, I only wanted to be yours. Even though you couldn't be mine."

GENRE: Unrequited love, Humour, Fluff, Angst, Smut

WARNINGS: Minors DNI, Language, Explicit sexual content, Alcohol Usage, cheerleader!reader, Renjun is sometimes rude lol

AUTHOR's NOTE: Actually, I wanted to write something pure fluffy for Renjun, but I figured I need to put a sprinkle (more than that actually lmao) of angst. Also my favorite plot to write. Enjoy reading!

Expected WC: 13k

STATUS: published

╰┈➤ Illicit Affairs

➸ ♡ Infamous for being every girl's guilty pleasure, Lee Haechan strutted through his life shamelessly. But recently, the new girl caught his eye. Im Hayeon, who he believes that would finally tame his wreckless heart. He was confident he could get the girl. And when he did, he never expected her to have baggages. For example, you, Im Hayeon's best friend. Who suddenly, sparked an idea on his pretty little head. You're trouble-- and you're making Haechan commit Illicit Affairs.

"You're making me do bad things, very, bad things. But then again, I'm no stranger in being the bad guy."

GENRE: Fluff, Angst, Humour, Smut

WARNINGS: Minors DNI, Language, Explicit sexual content, Alcohol Usage, Infidelity, Haechan and reader is kind of an asshole

AUTHOR's NOTE: okay, for one, i don't condone cheating. its just for the story! also i won't tackle on it too much-- literally just for the plot. Enjoy reading!

Expected WC: 13k

STATUS: published

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

© ryozaki21 2023

[pinguwrites]

Ooooh, what about this? Future!reader accidentally time traveled to 1940s when she met William Killick, and he had to take care of her due to injuries she had. She ended up staying with him while rejecting his advances because she was trying to find a way to go back to future, and it wouldn’t be fair to him if she were to accept his advances, but she didn’t know William was sabotaging the solutions to ensure she would stay with him forever.

THIS IS ABSOLUTELY WONDERFUL LIKE HOLY SHIT. I was about to write something like this with Tommy in Black Heart, but I opted out, and I hadn't even considered this with William, so I'm so glad you requested it!!

this was supposed to be a short-length fic lol, it's like the longest thing I've ever written on here

Home Is Where the Heart Is ⸻ William Killick

pairing | william killick x future!reader

summary | You don't think much of the box when it arrives at your front door. That is, until you open it and are transported decades into the past. There, you fall into the arms of a handsome soldier, who is intent on making you stay.

word count | 9k

Warnings: DUB-CON, possessive!william, future!reader, period typical sexism it's okay when it's william, reader has a software job, weird time travel plot (who knows how the box got there? it's totally not going to be revealed in part two ;) ), mentions of war, reader simps so hard, p in v sex, breeding kink

Disclaimer: The Edge of Love characters, plots, quotes, etc. do not belong to me and belong to the rightful owner(s). This is only fanfiction and this is just for fun.

A/N: I'm honestly not too proud with how rushed it was, but I'm glad it's out there. I'm definitely doing a part two. Be warned for errors.

You were lying in a field of grass, tall, bushy trees lining the area around you. You seemed to be in some type of countryside because in the distance you could faintly see quaint little houses and farmland (at least, you assumed it was; your vision was awfully blurry), but other than that, you had no clue as to where you were.

“Ah,” you hissed, noticing the cut on your body. When you arrived — however that happened — you had scrapped your arm on a sharp rock embedded in the dirt, and now it was bleeding, red blood trickling down your arm.

You sighed miserably, trying to make sense of the situation.

Yesterday, a packaged box arrived on your front doorstep. No address, no company, just a note in pen, To [Y/n] [L/n]. You were a little wary of its contents but brought it inside anyway. You opened it and uncovered a machine, steel and simple in its construction, yet difficult to understand. There was no instruction manual or labels for the buttons, and it took you a while to know if you were even looking at it right, the only hint being the Roman numerals inside the dials.

After tinkering around with it, you must have fallen asleep, because the next thing you knew, you were in a completely other place. All you had on were your clothes, some money, and your phone, which, surprise surprise, had no signal, so all you could do was look at your downloads — completely useless — and take a photo. 

I must’ve been drugged, you thought, still feeling hazy. I should have called the cops the moment I realized something was off.

You got up and took off your socks, trying to stop the bleeding with it. It wasn’t the most hygienic, but it was all you had at the moment, and you weren’t about to tear off pieces of the shirt you had on, especially not when you were already shivering. 

The contraption had traveled with you, and though you were aware it was the reason you were here in the first place, you thought it better to bring it along, as evidence. You could show it to the government, and they could use their little science ways to find the culprit. All would be fine.

All will be fine.

You started walking. You didn’t have any shoes on for protection, so it was difficult to step across the dirt, with all its rocks and insects swarming about, but you managed to get to grass quick enough, and it felt much better, almost healing to walk barefoot on the softness of mother nature.

But you didn’t get very far. Eventually, your stomach started grumbling, and you felt like your intestines were twisting inside with desperation. Your sock was now red, and your hand was trembling, so with a defeated sigh, you let go, of both the sock and the heavy machine, allowing the blood to flow freely. You bent over to pick the sock back up first, but the sudden movement made your head reel, and before you knew it, you were out again.

+++

“You’re awake,” a voice said, a male’s voice, a British accent that sounded like butter. Oh, butter, if you could get your hands on that alone you would be satisfied. 

You opened your eyes, blinking. A figure, with pale skin and dark hair made it’s way over to you, and in a panic, you crawled away, eyes darting across the room. You were on a bed, bandages on your arm, but before you could calm down or even begin to think properly, panic took over, your heart rate elevated, and you sighed, before passing out again.

+++

For about the third time today, or however long you were out, you woke up. This time your vision was much clearer, but you still had this nasty migraine in your head. You were sick inside, the kind of sick that happens when you haven’t eaten in a while but can’t eat because you feel like you’ll throw up. 

You wondered if you were in the same place again. You remembered a man, with a soothing voice, but he wasn’t here right now. Though the possibility that you had been kidnapped entered your mind, you noticed the lack of bonds and chains on your body. He was probably just helping you, you reasoned.

You slowly got out of bed, wincing at the shooting pain in your arm. You observed your surroundings. The bedroom was very minimalist, and . . . quirky. You loved the design and the materials used, as it reminded you of a cottage, but there was nothing helpful in sight. All the technology you could see, like the kitchen, needed to be updated and was worn out. There was some type of record player, or CD tape, or whatever that was called, on one of the counters and a radio beside it. 

You didn’t bother with any of that. You were thirsty, throat dry and gnawing at you, so you went to look for water, hoping that whoever lived here didn’t go out and get it from a fucking well. He probably does. Look at this place!

“Shit!” you swore, your knees buckling from underneath you. You felt so weak and miserable and vulnerable. It hit you at this moment that you were probably a hundred miles away from home, in a strange place in a strange home you’d never seen before. How were you going to get back? What were you going to do?

Tears started welling in your eyes. You hated that you were being so emotional. Why couldn’t you toughen up and deal with the situation like a proper adult?

You leaned onto the counter, trying to balance yourself, when the front door opened up, and the man you saw before walked in, carrying a bag full of vegetables and other foods. He quickly placed the bag down and held you in his arms, his warmth comforting and relaxing.

He had short, dark hair, and a sharp jawline, and from this distance, you could see light freckles scattered across his cheeks. He had the most beautiful blue eyes you’d ever seen, like glaciers, like the ocean. Fuck, he was so handsome. 

“Here,” he said, guiding you back to the bedroom. He set you down on the bed, gazing at you with such intensity, like adoration or devotion. 

“W-who are you?” you asked, voice cracking. “Where am I? Hngh.” You rubbed your temples. Didn’t he have any pain medications?

“My name is William. William Killick,” the man introduced softly. “Don’t be scared, I’m not going to hurt you.” He went off into the kitchen and brought back a glass of water. You drank it slowly, the cool liquid flowing through your body, wetting your mouth. “I didn’t know if you had family nearby, so I took you to my place.”

William paused, as if thinking of what to say next. “Get more rest, it’s night.”

You hadn’t even noticed the time, but one look out the window told you he was right. It was pitch black outside.

“You’ll wake up tomorrow, and have some breakfast.”

You shook your head, and handed the glass back to him, only for him to set it down on the nightstand table. “Where’s my phone? Where’s my . . . box?”

He stared at you blankly, before clearing his throat. “Your stuff is in the back. I didn't know what it was — hey, don’t move.” William’s strong hands kept you in place, pushing you back down to the bed as gently as he could whilst still keeping a firm grip. “Rest,” he ordered. “Don’t need you fainting on me again.”

You wanted to argue, but you couldn’t. You laid your head on the pillow, without a choice but to trust William, and fell asleep, wrapping yourself in the blanket with a content sigh. All the questions you had, all the thoughts, faded away and were replaced by darkness.

+++

You dreamt of yourself and yourself. You, the spectator, were standing outside a window, but it wasn’t just any window. It was your window, the one that led to the inside of your bedroom, where you could see you and William — the strange man — entangled in the sheets. Lovers. You two were lovers. You two were making love. 

Anyone would have felt creepy watching someone else, and anyone would have noticed someone watching them, but none of that happened. The sun should have cast a shadow on you, but it didn't. The passerby should have called you out, but they didn’t. 

You had just enough awareness to realize that this was a dream. How were you back at home already? Why were you and William kissing?

While originally you felt nothing, like a simple observer without thoughts, you were suddenly flooded with heavy emotions. Confusion, shame, lust, confusion.

But in just a few moments, the world around you crumbled, like an earthquake, and the sun and moon passed by, stars moving across the heavens, and you were warped by time, back in the same place you were before. 

+++

You woke up with a gasp, cold sweat running down your body, and immediately William was by your side. You rested your head on his chest, grasping onto his shirt desperately, not wanting him to leave. 

“Shh, shh,” he cooed, running his fingers through your hair.

“Sorry,” you muttered, making no effort to leave his side. “I don’t know . . .”

“Shh.”

You both were like this for a while. Faint images of your dream passed through your mind, and from what little you remembered, you assumed it had been a wet dream. 

I can’t believe it, you thought. Having a wet dream — about a guy I barely met. Control yourself!

You pulled away, already missing his warmth. William frowned a little but didn’t say anything. “What’s your name, darling?” he asked. 

You hesitated.

“I told you, I’m not going to hurt you.”

“[Y/n],” you finally told him. “Where are we?”

William narrowed his eyes. You had a feeling he knew more than he was letting on, but you didn’t want to press.

“Wales,” William answered.

You froze. How the fuck did you get to Wales? What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck.

“Um, that’s nice,” you said awkwardly. “How long has it been since you found me?”

“A few days.”

You tried not to panic, but all you could think about was your job and your friends and your family. Have you been reported missing yet?

“You must be hungry,” William said. “I’ll cook something for you. I’m not the best, but I don’t want you to wear yourself out.”

“It’s alright.” You waved his concern off, though it did tug at your heartstrings that he was worried. “I'll get some fast food.”

You dug through your pockets, hoping your wallet was still in there. Thankfully it was. You pulled it out and grabbed two crisp twenty-dollar bills, but William hissed and pushed it back in, his hand not leaving yours. 

“What are you doing carrying around that much money?” he asked, giving you an incredulous look. “How are you meant to protect yourself? Where’d you get that? Do you have a husband?”

You pushed his hand away. “I work. And what’s the problem?” 

You knew that the American dollar wasn’t equivalent to a British pound, but was the difference that bad? Sure, forty dollars was a lot of money if you were just going to a gas station or something, but nothing to get excited over. 

William huffed. “You can’t just show me that much money like that. What if I was a thief, hmm? What would you do then?”

“Are you?” you asked, not understanding why he was making such a big deal out of it.

“No. I’m a gentleman.”

You scoffed, amused, but there was a little smile on your face. “A gentleman?”

“Yes,” he insisted. “A proper man.”

There was a moment of silence between you both. You wanted him to hold you again, but you thought it would be best if you just went on your way. 

“Thank you for taking care of me,” you said, getting up from the bed. “And bandaging me and all.” You gave him one of the bills. “I know it’s in dollars, but I’m sure you can convert it.”

William didn’t take the money. “You’re not leaving — you’re still hurt. I’d be remiss if I let a lass half as pretty as you alone on the streets.”

You chalked up his way of talking to the region. You honestly found it quite attractive. That, coupled with his British accent, made you feel like you were in one of those romance movies. You had to remind yourself that he wasn’t in love with you and that you were just acting irrational and horny.

“I’ll be fine. We’ll exchange numbers, do you have a charger?”

“What?”

“A phone charger. My phone’s probably dead.”

“The box?”

You narrowed your eyes. “No, the rectangle. The phone.”

“Ah, the one that glows?”

You briefly wondered if he simply didn’t know what a phone was. You knew some people preferred not to have modern technology in their life.

“Yes. I need to call someone — ”

“ — It stopped glowing.”

Great. William obviously didn’t have a charger. And if he didn’t know what it was, no one nearby would. All that was next to do would be to walk to a big city and hope someone there could help you get back home.

“Look, darling.” You ignored the way your heart fluttered when he called you that. “I don’t know what a phone is, or why you’re here, but I know that you still need to recover.”

“I appreciate it,” you said. “But I really have to go. I have work and — ”

“ — Surely you can take a day off. What is it you do?” William asked. 

“I’m a software developer. I code.”

William had a blank face. A pink blush dusted his cheeks. He cleared his throat, “I, er, I’ve never heard of that. You mean computers? The big ones that take up a room?”

“No, it’s not the fifties.”

“Well, 1946 is close.”

You didn’t know what to make of that. “What does 1946 have to do with this?”

William observed you intently. “The year. The year is 1946.”

You blinked. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t be the 20th century — that was impossible. So many things were wrong with that. How come it was you who traveled in time? Why didn’t the government know about this? Even if you were ignoring the question of how, there were still so many whys.  

“No,” you said slowly, inching away from William. What kind of sick prank was this? He was supposed to be helping you, not confusing you. “You’re messing with me.”

William sensed that you were uncomfortable, because he backed away, his hands in the air. You could tell he was waiting for the perfect moment to get closer.

“I’m not a liar . . . Are you from the future?”

Fuck. You weren’t sure. How could that even be possible?

“No,” you said hesitantly. “I dunno, I must be . . .”

Your eyes subtly peered past William and at the door. If only you could get past him . . . 

You looked straight at the window, making sure to grab his attention. “Oh,” you whispered, putting on your best shocked expression. The moment he was distracted you sprinted past him and bolted out of the room and out the house, running across the field to the next house you could see. Your arm still hurt, but you were willing to shove down the pain.

“No, no, please!” William shouted, running after you. 

In just a minute, he had caught up to you and tackled you to the ground. He pinned your hands above your head and sat on your lower stomach, rendering you useless. His lips were so close to yours, and the look on his face was pissed.

“What are you doing?” he asked, voice forceful, gripping onto your wrists tighter. 

“P-please,” you pathetically sputtered out. “Don’t hurt me.”

He didn’t budge. “I’m trying to help you — I’m not lying to you, and I’m not going to hurt you.”

“You’re hurting me now,” you cried, squirming.

William’s eyes softened as he realized what he was doing. “You promise not to run again?”

You nodded, your lower lip wobbling. 

“Alright.”

He still didn’t let go of you, but he did pull you up from the ground, wiping the dirt off of your back. Tears flowed down your cheek like rainwater, and you couldn’t help but curl in on yourself.

William held onto your arm as he walked you back to the house, not allowing you another chance of escape, but he did wipe your tears gently and soothe you. You felt embarrassed. Why did you run? You had acted purely on instinct there. This man was clearly only trying to help. 

“Look,” he said softly, sitting you back down on the bed like a child. “I’ll take you into town, hmm? Show you around and all — maybe that’ll convince you. You must be quite far into the future to be dressing like that and to have a . . . phone with you, so things will be different, right? What year are you from?”

“. . . 2023.”

“I knew it. On your phone, there was a date. I wasn’t sure then, but . . .” William suddenly reached his hands up and rubbed his thumb across your chapped lips, catching you off guard. “They’re dry,” he said. “I’ll draw up a bath for you so you can bathe while I cook. I’ll get you some lotion afterward.”

You nodded. What else could you do?

+++

William had cooked some simple fish and chips while you cleaned yourself. You had to use a tin tub, which was insane to you, but you didn’t complain about it. He supplied you with clothing, an old-fashioned dress his mother had accidentally left here. You were grateful it was not from some ex-girlfriend or wife, even though you had no right to feel that way. You put aside your other clothes to wash later.

After finishing with that, you sat down at the dining table, and like the hungry girl you were, you gobbled the food down eagerly. It was so fresh and delicious, not at all like the food you had in the future, pumped with chemicals and artificially bred. You tried to be as neat as you could, but it was difficult when you were starving. William had watched on with amusement, telling you to slow down and straighten your back every once in a while.

He took the plates away when you both were done, and then did as he promised and gave you some lotion, but instead of letting you apply it, he took a bit of cream on his fingers and rubbed it on your lips. “Stay still,” he murmured. 

“I-I can do it—”

“No, you can’t. You’re still injured.”

You understood his reasoning. And you didn’t mind him touching you like that.

“The rest of my body is dry, too,” you blurted out.

What were you thinking? You didn’t even know this man. Trying to get him to touch the rest of your body — stupid girl.

William’s breathing hitched. “As in . . . your knees as well?”

“. . .”

He cleared his throat. “Well, then. Put them out, over my lap.”

You bit your lower lip, watching on as he rubbed his hands over your legs. His touch was so warm and it felt more like a massage. You felt bad about doing this, leading him on. If he was right about the time travel, then you couldn’t entertain any sort of relationship with him. It wouldn’t be fair. 

But it was just an act of service. It didn’t mean much, right?

“Oh, that’s nice,” you said, resting your head on the bed. You felt a bit off allowing a random man to do this to you, but he wasn’t random now, was he? He had saved you. And besides, he was he who insisted he rub the lotion in the first place.

“What is the future like?” William asked. “Is there another war?”

“Sort of. Not really,” you answered, which panicked William. “Don’t worry. If you’re talking about America and Russia, no one dies.”

William chuckled. “I should hope not. I don’t fancy serving in another world war.”

“You served?” you asked curiously. 

“Yes. As a captain in the British Army.”

You supposed it was normal. Most men in this time either signed up for the military or were drafted. You couldn’t imagine the horrors William must have gone through. You would never be able to understand the trauma he carried with him. You were curious, but you knew better than to ask. He didn’t need your pity, and you certainly didn’t want to offend him.

“I’m sorry,” you said.

“For what?”

“That it had to happen. War and all that.”

“Does war not happen in the future?”

Now you felt a little stupid.

“Well — yes. It does. I’m just sorry. We learned about the world wars in history — and I just — I’m not claiming to know anything. Yeah, sorry.” You looked down.

William didn’t say anything to that. He just kept rubbing your dry skin. Afterward, he put the lotion away and sat next to you, running his fingers through your hair.

“I expect stories from you. I want to hear everything about the future.” 

You still didn’t believe you were in the past, at least, not completely.

 “You can tell me as we pass through town,” he added.

“I need to wash my clothes first.”

Willian narrowed his eyes. “You’re not going to wear that anymore.”

“Why not?”

He pursed his lips. “It’s too revealing. A woman should never go out wearing those types of clothing.” He sighed. “Perhaps it’s different in the future, but here, you’ll get hurt if you dress like that.” He continued playing with your hair. “I want you to be safe. So, you have to promise me that you’ll stay by my side at all times, yes?”

You nodded. You always thought that if you caught men talking to you like this, you would slap them, but here you were, turned on by William’s sexism. It was different, you reasoned. He was more focused on protecting you than restricting you. Was it bad that you found that hot?

“Good girl,” he said proudly. “Good girl.”

+++

Walking through town had been more of a frightening experience than you expected. You realized, without a shadow of a doubt, that you were indeed in the past. Producing a prank with this level of investment and money was pointless, and you never had any mental issues in the past, so why would one suddenly show up now? And even if it did, you couldn’t possibly be imagining this all in your head. 

All the cars were shiny and new, yet old models, ones that wouldn’t be produced in the future. All the women and men wore traditional clothing, like the dress William picked out for you. The hairstyles were medium-length and curled, or slicked back, with lots of gel and products used to keep them in place. You were grateful William didn’t ask you to do any of that. Not that you would have let him. At a certain point, you would have drawn a line.

“I have to get back,” you told William as you walked on a trail. “The machine has something to do with it. I just have to figure out how it works.”

“That’s an engineering job,” he pointed out.

“I’m good at math and science. I work in advanced technology, so I should be able to figure something out. All it needs is a bit of testing . . . I was wondering if I could stay with you for a while until I figure out a place to stay. I’ll give you all the money I have and I promise I’ll find a job — ”

“ — No need. Stay as long as you like. I don’t want your money. I won’t stop you from finding a job, but it’s not necessary. I can handle any expenses.”

You didn’t argue with him. He didn’t seem averse to the idea of letting a stranger stay at his place. It made sense. People in this time were more hospitable and open (at least, when they felt like it), and William, being a man from the forties, would never allow you to carry any of the financial burden.

You still felt a little bad. 

“Thank you. It means a lot to me. Now, what is it you want to hear about the future?”

William’s eyes lit up excitedly. “Do flying cars exist?”

You chuckled. “No. But we have self-driving ones.”

“Self-driving? How do they work?”

You paused. You had no idea. “I’m not sure. They probably have sensors to detect other cars. And, well, there’s a map. So it’s connected to a satellite . . .”

“Satellite?”

“It’s this thing in space. It does . . . stuff. It’s manmade.”

“Space? Have we discovered alien life?”

“No. But we have sent rovers to Mars and we’ve landed a person on the moon.”

William stopped walking. “The moon?” he repeated, bewildered. “Have you gone?”

I wish. “It’s only for astronauts. You have to be trained for that sort of stuff.”

“And when did this all happen?”

“Around the 1960s. There was a space race between America and Russia, and America won.”

Once you got the ball rolling, William would not stop asking questions. You answered them as best as you could and avoided topics like the current political climate and weaponry and all that. After he was done with all the serious stuff, like advancements in science and whether robots had taken over the world yet, he moved on to more social and cultural topics. You were relieved to find out that he wasn’t racist or homophobic or incredibly misogynistic. If anything he was rather tame about it all, and was glad that women had earned more rights, though he seemed upset that the dynamic of a gentlemanly husband and lady-like housewife wasn’t pushed upon society. 

“There’s nothing wrong with things going the opposite way around,” he had said. “Two people of the same gender marrying. It’s only that women need to be looked after, and if she doesn’t want to work, then it is her man’s obligation to do it for her. And in return, she must be obedient and serve him whenever he pleases — whether it’s by cleaning the house or . . . other things.”

“And what if she doesn’t want it?” you questioned, referring to the other things.

“A man should always make sure she likes it.”

You could practically feel all the feminism leaving your body at that.

The conversation ended when you reached back home (home? It’s not your home, you reminded yourself). William replaced your bandages with care. You were already starting to feel better, since the cut wasn’t too big, and you offered to help with cooking dinner this time.

After that, you decided to tinker with the box.

It was made out of some type of metal, with two different dials on the top and a button on the side. But it wasn’t like anything you’d ever seen before. The first dial went from zero to nine (zero being nulla) in Roman numerals, and had four hands, each of them colored in order: red, green, blue, and yellow. Respectively, there were four tiny colored knobs on the side, like the ones by a watch, where you could move each hand. The other dial was the same case.

“It must be the date,” you said aloud to yourself. “But which is which?”

Taking a gamble, you pressed the button, but it didn’t do anything. All it did was signal a small lens to start blinking red. 

“Are you sure you should do that now?” William asked, coming up from behind you. “Look at this.” He crouched to your level on the floor. “Your eyes have bags underneath them. You’re still tired.”

You rubbed the area beneath your eyes. Did they really have bags? You hadn’t realized.

“I should probably go to sleep then,” you said, putting the box down and getting up.

William walked you over to the bedroom, and was about to leave when you asked, “Where are you sleeping?”

“The couch.”

You frowned. “It’s your house and I’m your guest. You’ve already done so much for me – ”

“— If you’re going to suggest you sleep on the couch, then it’s a no. That’s final.”

“But — ”

“ — Final.”

You sighed. “Then come sleep with me. I’ll stay on the floor—”

“ — No—”

“ — Then we can share the bed. We’ll put a wall of pillows between us, like this.” You grabbed a pillow and placed it in the middle of the bed, separating the two sides. “Not so bad, see?”

William relented. “Alright.”

He crawled into bed with you. His hair fell over his face as he adjusted, and the last rays of sunlight coated his body in colors of orange and yellow. If your phone wasn’t dead, you would have asked him to sit still for a picture, because at this moment, he truly looked breathtaking. He was a beautiful man. You wondered if he knew it.

“What?” William asked when he noticed you staring.

Flustered, you turned your head to look up at the ceiling. “Nothing. I was just making sure you were comfy.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see William lick his lower lip. 

“You’re a sweet lass,” he commented. “You always think about others first.”

He reached over, and for a moment, you thought he was going to kiss you (which, admittedly, despite having had a wet dream about him, scared you), but he only brushed a small speck of dust off your shoulders and murmured “Goodnight”, before burying his chin into the blanket and drifting off into sleep.

You followed in suit soon after. A part of you was hoping that you could start a life here. You’d buy a nice house and live out a simple and peaceful life. You and William didn’t even have to be romantically involved. You could just be friends, and you would be happy with that. 

But a part of you also hoped that when you woke up the next morning you would be back in your own bed, in your small one-story house that you remember being so excited about buying. You knew you would never like living here in the long term. There were too many things wrong with this time and you didn’t want to be the brunt of its issues. Not only that but being aware of all the tragedies that would soon occur . . . Did you want to be faced with the moral dilemma of whether or not you should stop them? How would your presence affect things in the future? After living your whole life in 2023, you could never adjust to life in 1946. 

You had to find a way back. There was simply no other choice. 

+++

William showed you many things. Just as he was interested in the future, you were interested in the past. The things that excited you most of all were old-school versions of what you had in the future. Washing machines, refrigerators — they were all so different, yet the same, and it was fascinating. 

You even met a few people in town. They were nice enough to hold a conversation with, though they found it weird that you lacked decorum and the social understanding of the time. The women were chatty and mildly passive-aggressive, and the men — well, the men flirted with you quite openly.

William had told people that you were family, someone related but not close enough to be bothered with technical terms like cousin or niece. No one asked questions when you two explained it like that. All the men must have thought that if you were his family and that if you had no ring on your finger you must be looking for a partner.

You were charmed by their advances, but never serious about them. Besides, William hardly let them get a word in before he shooed them away.

By the time weeks and weeks had passed you became acquainted with everyone, seen every sight to see — including the swan lake William took you to — and become close enough to William that he opened up to you. You learned that while he wasn’t an orphan, his parents never held much interest in him other than the occasional birthday letter, and the reason he came out here so far away from the city was to find peace of mind.

You grew to admire him, and you were sure he grew to admire you, too. And soon, you started to feel a certain type of way. A way that made you daydream about all the things that could be, only for reality to stomp across it and remind you of the harsh truth. 

+++

William was driving a car, a modern car, your car. He was humming a little tune on the radio, singing some lyrics, hands loosely holding the wheel as he passed by a gas station. It was some Taylor Swift song, and you remember faintly thinking: Of course, he likes Taylor Swift.

He looked over to you. You were sitting by his side, a passenger princess, looking out the window. All of a sudden it was night and you two were driving down a lonely road, parking by the side of some lake. In the distance, you could hear crickets and ribbits, but you paid them no mind.

You were curled up in William’s arms, looking out the sunroof of the car, the light of the moon gently descending through the glass. You offered him a piece of chocolate, and you two just sat there, in the dark, nibbling on snacks and observing the sky, until you woke up.  

+++

William had to leave for work, like usual. He again told you not to leave his property line or stray out too far, which, again, was fine by you because most days were cold and bitter.

You spent your time messing around with the box, careful not to touch the wires in the back. Once you put your mind to it, you figured out how it worked. You paid attention to where the hands were currently located and found something promising. The first dial’s hands had the numbers I, IX, IV, and VI, and the second dial was nulla, IX, nulla, and V. Alone, you wouldn’t have been able to tell what the numbers meant, but with context, you understood. The first dial was the year, and the second one was the month and date.

You didn’t quite understand how the box brought you from the future, but that didn’t matter, as it was broken. There was a little loose piece on the backside that had been damaged — a little dent, probably when you were first transported here. All you had to do was plug it back in, but the only problem was, you didn’t have a screwdriver, and you certainly weren’t going to wrench your fingers near a bunch of wires.

When William came back you told him your solution. He agreed and said that tomorrow he would take you to a local store to buy a screwdriver, and he even apologized for not having one in his house. But for now, he said he wanted to take you out to lunch.

“Lunch?” you questioned nervously. Was he asking you out on a date?

You thought about it for a moment. You did want to go, but your mind was too preoccupied with getting back to your time. Besides, it wasn’t fair to him. You did like him, but you two could never actually be together. It was all in your head.

It’s all in your head.

“You know I’ll have to go back someday,” you said, watching William’s expression become more neutral as if he was hiding his emotions. “I dunno . . . I’m getting a little attached to you,” you said with a laugh, trying to lighten the mood.

William seemed to understand where you were going with this. “It won’t be like that. I wouldn’t blame you,” he said earnestly, taking a step forward. “We ought to enjoy our time together, while it’s still here.”

He made a valid point, enough to convince you. He had been doing that an awful lot. Convincing you. 

William took you out to a nice restaurant. The food was a bit plain, but it was good and wholesome. It reminded you a lot of William’s cooking, only fancier and more well-presented. Not only that, but the atmosphere felt calming and almost romantic. You noticed that most of the people here were couples, holding hands and giggling with each other, however young or old.

Was this William’s intention? Did he like like you? Or was this just him being courteous? You couldn’t imagine that many people here were used to dating or one-night stands. But you wouldn’t know unless you asked him, and you were too nervous to do that. Besides, you didn’t want to make a fool of yourself. William was a very traditional man, would he even want a woman like you? A 21st-century girl?

After you two were finished eating you engaged in another walk. 

“Come closer,” William said, holding out his arm for you to take. If you didn’t have any self-control, you would have jumped his bones right then and there. He was right. He was a gentleman. No man in the future would have done this for you unless they were trying to make a joke out of it.

You placed your hand on William’s arm hesitantly, trying to figure out the exact placement, walking side by side with him. It was a little cold, however, and you shivered, catching William’s attention almost instantly.

“Oh, you poor thing,” William cooed, talking of his coat and wrapping it around you. It smelled of him, a little musky, smoky like a cigarette, but in a very subtle way. “You’re so nervous. Have you never had a man do this for you?” he asked. “Hold out his arm for you to take, give you his coat?”

“No,” you admitted. “Men don’t do that in the future.”

“I do,” he said, stopping both of you in your tracks. The area was secluded, mostly covered in trees and bushes, far away from any passerby. “I would do that for my woman.”

It was quiet for a moment.

“Well,” you said, wistfully, “whoever she is she’ll be a lucky woman.”

+++

William took you to a local shop to buy a screwdriver next. It all felt very domestic, something that you could get used to. You imagined running errands like this with William in the future. He would be absolutely fascinated by a grocery store, by the internet, by everything. If you thought hard, you could see it — a wondrous smile on his face, a giggle escaping his lips. 

You tried not to think of it that much. After your fantasy passed your thoughts turned sad and cold, because you knew that would never happen. It will never happen. As much as you liked William, you missed your family, you missed your house, you missed everything.

When you both got back home, you plugged the broken piece in and screwed the nail. William watched on beside you, a frown on his face, drinking some tea.

“Here,” he said, inching closer, “I don’t want you exerting pressure on your arm. Let me do it.”

He grabbed a hold of the screwdriver, but he bumped into you in the process. With a gasp, he dropped his cup of tea. It shattered across the floor, glass pieces flying every, hot liquid (thankfully not boiling) splashing all over. You shrieked and backed away, watching as one of the glass shards cut right through one of the wires.

“William!” you snapped, but then your eyes turned watery, because of the cut on your hand.

He immediately went over to you, careful not to step on any glass, and picked you up bridal style, moving you away from the mess and towards the couch. 

“I’m sorry,” he breathed out, looking panicked. “It was an honest mistake — I’m so so sorry, I can’t believe I just did that — are you hurt?”

You laughed at the absurdity of it all, even though you were clutching your finger in pain. It was a very small cut, something that would be healed within a day. “Calm down, William. I’m fine. Are you hurt?”

He shook his head, looking worried, or perhaps, scared was the right word. Yet, you couldn’t figure out why.

“William,” you said slowly. “It’s fine. You do realize we can just fix the wire? I just need a heat-shrinking tube and a soldering iron, nothing I haven’t done before.”

“. . . Oh.”

His tone made you wonder about his intentions. You’d been so caught up on how good of a person he was, helping you and giving you room and food, but really, what was his motive? Because it almost felt like he was trying to get you to stay . . . It sent a sinister feeling down your spine, albeit a tug on your heartstrings as well.

What do you want from me, William? What do you want?

+++

More time had passed. It was difficult to acquire things in this small town, and it occurred to you that such resources were not readily available at this time. You didn’t want to bother William by pestering him to go into the city for materials, so while you would bring up the topic every once in a while, you mostly kept quiet.

You took the chance to relish your break. After all, you weren’t working. It was like a fully paid vacation, so you might as well take advantage of it.

William still had a job, but when he came back, you two would just talk and talk and talk, conversations so smoothly flowing that it felt like you’d known him for years. When you weren’t talking, you were still in each other’s presence, doing your own thing. Occasionally, William would make sneaky moves like wrap his arm around your shoulder, or do the la bise. He claimed he was part French, and it was part of his custom, but even if that were true, you knew the la bise didn’t involve full-on smooches on the cheek.

You never stopped him from doing things like that, but you also never reciprocated, despite how badly you wanted to. All this stalling wouldn’t change the fact that you still had to leave. Not only that, but you were starting to feel homesick. 

You missed calling your friends late at night, you missed watching colored TV, and you missed hot showers. You missed easy-access painkillers for your periods, and searching all your queries on the internet. You missed the future. Badly. And you could just feel that the day of return was near.

+++

“You dance, yes?”

Snapped out of your thoughts, you turned to William. You were both lounging on his couch, relaxing, talking, as the time passed by. He had given you a magazine to read, but you weren’t reading it, just dozing off.

You shrugged. “Yeah. I’ve gone to clubs. But — no, I can’t dance like that — William,” you whined, half-heartedly struggling as he pulled you up to you feet. “I’m going to ruin it, I don’t know where to place my feet or — ”

“ — You could never ruin anything, darling. Your presence alone is enough to satisfy me.” 

You looked away. “You can’t say things like that, William.”

“Why not?”

You took his hands off you before he could even start the music. 

“I don’t like it,” you lied.

William frowned. “That’s alright. Let me hold you. I know you enjoy that.” He chuckled. “When we first met you wouldn’t let go of me.”

The memory, still fresh in your mind, made you flustered. 

“. . . William, what do you want from me?” you decided to ask.

He furrowed his eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

“I mean — what do you want from me?”

William licked his lower lip. “Nothing. I just want to take care of you.”

“But why?”

You could practically feel William’s nervousness. It was like when he dropped that glass. He radiated an almost jumbled energy, a desperate energy.

“Haven’t I made it more obvious?” he finally said, his hands on your waist. He brought his fingers up to brush the hair out of your face. “Am I not clear?”

You knew what he was going to say. But you wanted to hear it from him. “Clear about what?”

“I want you.” Your heart started beating. “I don’t care if you’re not from this time. I don’t care if you have a life in the future — I can be better. I can be your life.”

“. . . William.”

“Don’t take that tone with me,” he said, tilting your chin up so you could look him in the eyes. “I know you want me too. I can see it.”

“But we can’t,” you weakly protested.

“So is this what you do?” His tone grew more sharp. “Imagine things in your head and never act on them?”

You stayed silent. He was putting you in such a difficult position, couldn’t he see that?

“What’s wrong?” he continued. “Am I not good enough?”

“William,” you tried to pull away. “I have to go — ”

He locked you in his arms. Your body was so close your noses were brushing up against each other, and his voice dropped to a whisper. “Maybe you’re worried I can’t please you right.”

You could have shouted. Why was he being so forceful? You ignored the way your body grew warm — you couldn’t do this. You couldn’t and so you wouldn’t. 

“I don’t want it,” you lied again.

“Well, I told you, a wife should always submit to her husband’s desires.”

“We’re not married!”

“We will be.”

You froze.

William took your silence as an opportunity. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours, turning his head slightly as his hand rested on the back of your head. You were caught off guard but didn’t try to push away. It felt so nice, and warm and inviting. Why you were denying yourself this? Why were you denying yourself love?

When your lips parted, a string of saliva connecting you both, you placed your hands on his chest. You had an idea. A brilliant idea. Why hadn’t you thought of this before? “William. I still have to go, but — ”

He growled and lifted you up, carrying you over to his bedroom, tossing you onto the bed, and pinning you down on the mattress. “No. I won’t let you. I won’t let you! Don’t you understand? I’m perfect for you — I can — I can.” He looked miserable. In fact, he looked like he was about to cry. “Let me show you,” he said, determined. He started unbuckling his belt with one hand. “Let me show you what I can do.”

You hadn’t realized how hard William was, but when he finally took out his cock — fat and pale, with pre-cum leaking at the tip, his balls a little hairy, you gulped, the area between your legs getting wetter.

“Take off your panties,” he ordered. “And lift up that damn dress.”

You didn’t. To be honest, you were a little frightened by his behavior.

William sighed and did it for you, spreading your legs apart, only for you to shut them close. “You don’t even have a condom!”

“I’ll put out,” he said impatiently, forcing your legs apart again. You gasped, not expecting contact to be made so soon.

He rubbed his cock against your wet cunt, soaking himself. He had this satisfied smile on his face, eyes closed for just a moment, before he looked down at you. 

“I thought I’d have to warm you up a little,” he said. “You’re beau — stop it! Don’t struggle.”

He held your arms down as you writhed. “Please, William — I believe you,” you said. “You can fuck me good. Just listen — ”

William shook his head. “You’re the one who's supposed to listen. Listen and take it.”

With that, he pushed his cock in and started thrusting, hard and fast, your hands still pinned, his face contorted in pleasure. His moans were loud and shameless. He had his head right above yours, peppering small kisses on your lips. You tried to ignore how good it felt — him inside of you, but it was becoming increasingly difficult by the moment. 

“Ah, I knew you weren’t a virgin,” he said, noticing the lack of blood or discomfort. “That’s okay — I still love you.”

“Love?” you repeated, trying to focus, but your abilities were lost when he used his thumb to rub your clit. “Wa-a-it!”

“Don’t say that,” William said, his tone surprisingly soft given how rough his movements were. “I wouldn’t be doing this if I thought you didn’t want it. Just enjoy. Enjoy me.”

The bed was starting to creak, moving back and forth, rubbing up against the wood floor. Your breasts were bouncing, catching William’s eyes every once in a while. His cock slid in and out of you with precision, hitting that swollen part inside of you every time. His thumb on your clit only added to the intense sensation. 

Your eyes fluttered shut, and you stopped struggling. You let your head hit the pillow, mouth parted, breathing heavy and hot. At the same time, you were overcome with a feeling of hurt. You couldn’t deny that you wanted it, but for him to take you so forcibly . . . and for you to actually like it . . .

“Are you alright?” he asked, slowing down his pace a little. He looked you in the eyes. “Do you feel good?”

You thought about lying, about crying out No, please stop!, but that wasn’t the truth, and in the end, your desires overcame you. “Y-yes. I want more.”

William relaxed, and his grip on you loosened. He placed one hand on your hip, the other by the side of your head. 

“You’re beautiful,” he praised. “Every day I look at you and think of how grateful I am that I found you. Laying there in that field, little flowers around you. An angel. My angel.”

You wanted to tell him how grateful you were, too. That it was him who took you in and not someone else, but the words never came out, only sighs and moans, but he seemed to understand what you were trying to say. 

Another kiss.

“You’re soaking me. You’re soaking the sheets.”

A little embarrassed, you turned your head. “M’sorry.”

William forced you to look back at him. “Don’t be sorry. I like knowing how eager you are for me.” 

Another kiss, but this time he slipped his tongue in, sweeping against yours before he pulled away, a string of saliva breaking as he did.

“We’ll live here,” he continued, his thrusts becoming more erratic, “in this house. Together. I’ll take you to the movies, we’ll have picnics in the garden, and I’ll write you love songs on the piano. We’ll have children — a girl, I hope — and she’ll look just like you. It’ll be wonderful,” he promised. “I’ll make you so happy, and you’ll make me happy, too.”

You couldn’t help but ruin the moment. “If I did that I would never see my parents again.”

He frowned and didn’t say anything. Then, “I think you’re getting agitated. You need to come, that’s it. You need to come and then you’ll finally understand what it is you’ll be missing out on if you leave.”

“T-that’s not the point — ”

“ — I’m so close,” he murmured. “Fill you up, so damn tight. Ah, you’re perfect.”

When you realized what he meant your eyes widened and you shook your head adamantly. “You said you’d pull out!”

“That was before. I’ve changed my mind.”

You felt familiar pressure build up inside of you. You could imagine yourself, breasts big with milk, belly round and smooth, William reading children’s books to your unborn baby as if he could be heard. The thought alone made you sickly sweet, the idea that life between you and him could be so domestic.

But couldn’t he just wait for a moment?

“I’ll — ah — be with you — every step of the way,” he grunted. “I won’t leave you. So, don’t be scared.”

“William,” you said shakily. “Just listen — ”

But it was too late. Collapsing on top of you, William poured his hot seed inside your cunt, his whimper addicting, like it was something you could hear a thousand times over. A few seconds later, you fell victim to the same fate, and there you two lay, with each other, chests heaving, bodies sweaty and sticky, coming down from the heights of ecstasy. 

You could feel his heart pound against yours. Thump, thump, thump. And you could feel yours as well. To think that this man had just gotten you pregnant. It all happened so quickly. It happened so quickly and you were completely fine with it.

“William,” you said after finally catching your breath, turning to face him. “You know I still have to go.”

It was his turn to cry. His tears watered up, glassy, his lower lip trembling, but you could tell he was doing his best to keep it in. “But I love you,” he whispered. “Am I not enough?”

It broke your heart to see him like this. So vulnerable in front of you. It was then you knew you were making the right choice, a hundred percent. You had finally found your match. And to think that you almost let him go . . . 

“But I want you to come with me,” you said, hopeful. “Come with me, William. Come with me to the future.”

Taglist: @henrywintersdearestgirl @shroombloom-rry @meetmeatyourworst @mrkdvidal1989 @madnessandobsession @slut4thebroken @qqquartz7 @madeinuk

[kaszuma]

Mockery | Hoshina Soshiro

Part 0 of “Certainly Yours”

pairing: Hoshina Soshiro x fem!reader

summary: Mina Ashiro needed a team. But the moment she found one, she was at a loss at what to do when her Vice Captain and Lead Technician got off on the wrong foot.

warnings: Slight Kn8 B-side Manga Spoilers, Mentions of Soshiro struggling with self-worth, Mentions of slight animosity between you and Soshiro but nothing too major, First-time meeting, Mentions very few graphic depictions of slaying Kaiju.

wc: 9,712

–

note: Hello! Sorry for the long wait.

I originally planned to write Part 7 first. but decided to write Part 0 as a special chapter since I've hit a hundred followers. But by the time I finished, we hit 150. Thank you lots!!

There is less romance on this one, since it's a prequel to Part 1 of Certainly Yours. I originally wanted to incorporate a rivalry or an initial animosity between reader and Soshiro. So this was my best attempt on the subject.

There is a lot more interaction and inner pining because it's still in the initial stages in the relationship. And I had a difficult time cross referencing B-side manga with the things I've already written thus far. I’m disappointed we don't really have much information on Soichiro. And I have big plans to incorporate him in a separate part in much more excruciating detail later down the line. Involving jealousy..

Anyways. For now, I shall write Part 7 and give ya'll the comfort you need. Might be the big I love you's, you're looking for. Wink wink.

Also, please tell me if I missed any warnings. None of these are proof read and my phone lags really bad when I post 9k words worth of fanfiction.

–

The feeling of being needed was a foreign concept that Soshiro Hoshina had never experienced for himself.

The road that he paved himself had always been a lonesome one. Carved by the very callouses of his own fingertips. Where he'd dive headfirst into the nose of a cliff filled with criticisms and comparisons. The world familiar to him had always been accompanied by a sense of mockery for his craft. A sneaky way to bury his existence in the wake of the world that had been full of firearms and expert Kaiju exterminators.

In the face of it all, he had always been frustratingly average.

Not nearly as bright as the way his older brother had burned for the adrenaline of the battlefield. The use of firearms, specialized tools and weaponry that had been modernized to slay larger than life Kaiju. Had always been stacked against him. Someone who was not born with the innate ability to tackle such large threats. His use had been chained to the blade. One so sharp and pristined to the point of no return.

For as long as he remembered, it had always been like this.

Even before he had joined the Defense Force of his own volition. He had always felt inferior in the way his brother Soichiro had bested him in every sense of the word. A genius incarnation that had rarely been born into the Hoshina family's already impressive lineage. In a family who prided themselves as generational Kaiju-slayers.

By all means, Soichiro Hoshina was the perfect man born for the front lines. His presence alone dominated the field. Any Challengers he'd face would be a place where normal people would never be able to reach.

He mastered a variety of martial arts at a young age. Already flipping over instructors each time he was paired to a battle in an attrition of self-defense.

The sword techniques passed down within the generations of his ancestors, had all been perfected to improve upon his own. His sword an extension of his arm each time he wielded it. And in terms of firearms? Soshiro couldn't begin to imagine ever reaching the height of his brother's skill. The gap between them in terms of long ranged attacks had been far too large for him to delusionally think he'd ever make it. Let alone surpass.

And although their youngest was plenty good at the progress of his own swordsmanship. Soichiro was on an entirely different level than he was.

A genius, some would call him. A fact the younger Hoshina was far too aware of.

The dust he left behind when he ran forward was often a sight Soshiro was familiar with. Sweeping him off of his feet each time he'd issue a direct challenge with his older brother.

And although he hated to admit it. Soichiro Hoshina's existence was both an inspiration and a mockery to his own.

A frustrating truth that even he had no choice but to believe.

His enigmatic older brother had always been a person who was destined to become the Captain of the sixth division. And his junior of five years, who had not excelled in anything but his skill in close quarter combat. Had all but stood in his shadow, destined to live a much ordinary life as an instructor like his family suggested.

Not a single person expected him to keep fighting.

To keep swinging that blade of his which had been both a boon and bane for his existence in the defense force.

Each humorous jab, or critical comment directed his way, had always been replied with a simple smile on his cat-like features. Far too exhausting to correct the people who had never dreamed to understand what he wished for.

And even if they never did, even if no one ever believed that he'd be able to survive the chaotic life of killing a Kaiju with a blade alone. He'd fight tooth and nail if he had to, In an effort just to keep his style of combat alive.

Because swinging the sword had always been something he found extreme joy in.

He refused to let this be the written ending for his story. Refused to let fate decide on the path to his future actions. Not when his undoing had all been decided by his unlucky birth.

Had Soshiro existed in a different era, far away from Soichiro. Things may have turned out much differently, he imagined.

But alas, he was stuck fighting. Climbing the gritty stairs of progress. Dragging the heavy weights of his blades all the way to the bloody top. And It showed in the way he never stopped practicing. His personalized equipment had always remained in top condition. The sharp end of that thinly-cut mass of iron had always been razor edged and cut-throat in the way it was maintained. Not even a dent could be seen on the damn thing.

By all means the weapon he held had always been ready. Waiting in fact, for the day Soichiro would mess up and stumble.

And for some reason? Soshiro had a feeling that day would be today.

It was their usual four round duel. An agreement between brothers who'd meet up every afternoon at the end of their respective classes for the weekday. Books packed hastily in an effort to rush home so that they could clash blades in the open spaces of their house's courtyard.

It had been a daily routine at this point.

Often, Soshiro would be the first to come home. Dropping his bag onto the floor of his bedroom and rushing to wear his hakama which had been prepped on the foot of his bed. And the moment he puts it on, he shows no hesitation when he grabs an appropriately sized bamboo blade that he kept nearest his closet.

Soichiro, who was the last to come, had always returned home with his little brother already waiting for him at their usual spot. Stance wide and ready to begin their matchup.

And although he often found his determination awe inspiring.

The older brother was far too aware of his own blood's presence. His eagerness to catch him off-guard had been made clear. Always at the ready in the case he'd make a mistake so that he could close the gap in skill between them.

And Soichiro. Who was as equally as cunning as he is. Had always been one step ahead, at the ready for any of Soshiro’s practiced attacks that even he knew could catch up to him at any moment.

Genius my ass. What's the point of being called that when your younger brother was so close to surpassing you? His progress in the blade is abnormally fast.

And to Soichiro. It was utterly terrifying.

“Yer too stiff ya’ little wimp. How do you expect to swing and hit me when that stance of yours is too rigid.” Soichiro pointed out. His chin pointed at the darker haired boy's much smaller feet. The boy hadn't even hit a growth spurt yet. And at this point he had been much taller than Soshiro's current height. His little brother barely reached the waistband of his Hakama giving him an ample advantage in build.

“Tryin’ something new. Now shut yer’ trap and let me hit ya!” Soshiro replied. The same serious look plastered on his face.

And such a challenge is met by his brother's own smirk. “Quite the yapper today aren't ya?” He laughs.

“-Fine. If you managed to hit me once, I'll let you go at me for another round. That ‘a deal?”

“Don't even need to ask.” Soshiro smirks. And with quick footwork, the boy had already reached his older brother's inner circle.

His steps were precise in the way he wasted no unnecessary limbs in his movement. In three short steps he had been faced to face with him. The tip of his bamboo sword already pointed at the very sky. Ready to strike him in the shoulder in an attempt to have him drop his own weapon. A technique he had done plenty of times to Soshiro before.

But the braided haired boy had been quicker. More experienced for his age. Foreseeing the minor tells his brother would exhibit when striking his sword down. And he wastes no time, pouncing to the side. Narrowly avoiding the heavy hand that had almost hit him on the jugular. Where he knows would've hurt.

It was done in quick succession. Soshiro didn't even have time to realize that his brother had turned on his heel. His blade held with one hand, had swept the ground to hit his very ankle. Effectively throwing him off balance. Making Soshiro yelp as he landed on his rear. Sword slipping from the tight grasp of his fingertips which had not grown enough to garner a steady grip yet.

And he could hear Soichiro’s obnoxious laughter echoing from in front of him. Slapping his leg to try and calm his breathless laughter.

“Whoops, nearly thought you had me there didn't ya?” He places his free hand over his stomach whilst he slung his sword over his shoulder. Trying not to pop a vein while laughing so hard.

And the jolly expression on his face alone had made Soshiro grit his teeth.

“Hah!? One more round and I'll make ya’ eat dirt you big bonehead.” Soshiro had replied. Already scampering about to grab his sword from the sidelines. Readying his stance for another round.

But a little known fact about Soichiro is that his interests never linger on him for too long. Only allowing the younger boy a total of four rounds per day. No more, no less. Had that number exceeded. He'd spare no glance and show disinterest on entertaining the boy no more. And his laughter soon dies down.

“Nope, No way! That's the fourth loss in a row. That's ‘bout enough for today Soshiro.” The older boy shook his head nonchalantly. Fixing up the loose strands of his braid as he turned to walk away. Uninterested now that the battle had ended quickly.

“You coward–One more round! I ain’t done with you yet!!” Soshiro yelled. But he sees the way his older brother was already kicking the wooden sandals off his feet. Walking back inside where the scorch of the afternoon sun would not hit him. And mock reply he'd refuse much louder than before.

“Nope.” His mouth popped.

“Them's the rules, I'm afraid.. Now I’m starvin, let's go grab a bite to eat.”

He sees the way Soichiro had not spared a second to look back. Immediately making a beeline to the Kitchen where he knew a few snacks would be waiting for them.

But unlike the eldest, Soshiro had stubbornly stomped behind his brother. Trying his best to keep up with the older boy who had much larger strides in his steps.

“That ain't fair, you said you'd give me five rounds today!”

“I said I'd give ya an extra round IF ya’ managed to hit me. And beggars can't be choosers here seeing as how not one of your attacks managed to graze me at all.”

“-Looks like you'll need more trainin’ ya little twerp.” His hand had reached to pat him on the head. But Soshiro had slapped it away before it could ruffle the tips of his hair.

“Quit callin me twerp ya Bonehead! I'm not the one who's running away–Come back here so I can kick yer’ sorry butt!” He chased after him. A common sight for the household who often saw the siblings bicker with one another.

But Soichiro was too fast. The pleasant smile on his face remained as he grabbed a rice ball nearest the counter. All the while effectively avoiding the smaller one's tackles.

It had been a few seconds more before Soshiro would give up in his pursuit. The sound or his grumbling stomach made Soichiro want to laugh. But he figured he could spare the poor boy the embarrassment of pointing that out.

Eventually, Soshiro stopped. Grabbing a rice ball of his own, he chooses to sit at the tatami nearest the windowsill of their home. And with much delight begins munching on the rice ball with a fuming look on his face.

He hadn't given up..he’s just a little hungry. That's all. He reminds himself.

“One of these days I'll beat ya’ on the first swing. Just you wait.” And that sentiment makes his older brother smile.

“That so?” Soichiro replied. Sitting beside the younger boy who had taken large bites from his own food. And unbeknownst to Soshiro, a smile appears on the corner of his older brother's lips.

“Well, guess I should buckle up and train too. Wouldn't want my wimpy little brother here to get ahead of me. Now do I?” The younger one couldn't help but roll his eyes. Clearly unamused that his brother had taken to scorn him again.

“Train with what? You're already plenty good at everything else. Yer’ just being mean.” Soichiro couldn't help but chuckle at his brother's small pout. Already grabbing him another rice ball to hand to him, as a form of apology. And Soshiro wastes no time to accept his offer. Enjoying the fresh grains of rice wrapped in that salty seaweed sheet. A singular pickled plum had peaked from within the blankets of warm grains.

“Sure. But I ain't about to slack off and give ya an easy-win.” Soichiro chuckles. Though for some reason, his voice had been far kinder than usual. “-Besides…”

Soshiro pauses, raising a brow at his older brother who had stared at the golden rays nearest the open window. And a strange expression was etched on his very face.

“I'm willin’ to bet that someday..yer’ gonna find someone who's gonna need you. With or without that blade of yours.”

And he raises his head to meet his older brother's strange smile.

It had been a selfish, childish desire for sure. One that disliked the idea of his younger brother overlapping him one day. The sheer dedication and progress he had been making was a far cry to his own. But those words, he meant sincerely. And whether Soshiro was aware of that, he was sure that one day he'd at least think back on it as simply words of mockery to discourage him.

And he did not bother to correct him.

…

It had been a few years since then. And for some reason those words stuck to Soshiro like a moth with a lamp.

It was uncharacteristic of Soichiro.

Even after he cut ties with his older brother. He had always found that sentiment of his, strange. The enigmatic Soichiro did not usually go out of his way to comfort him. Let alone aid him in his training. In fact, he distinctly remembers all the times the braided haired boy discouraging him each time they dueled. Demotivated him to stop in his endeavors.

It wasn't uncommon for his anger to boil when it came to Soichiro’s demeaning behavior. His words, often echoing on days where he’d fail to prove his worth to the defense force.

And although he knew Soichiro was only teasing him. His constant onslaught of berations had made him think he needed to improve upon his flaws even more. His words of mockery, a lingering thought on the back of his mind that would've normally made a person give up. Had only strengthened his resolve. And his actions only lead to even longer strides of hard work that only evolved each passing moment he'd swing his sword.

So why was it that those words of his didn't sound like mockery at all?

Had his brother meant it? When he told him he'd find someone who'd need him with or without the skill of his blade?

It had been almost an entire decade since he last saw his brother. Who had gone straight ahead and became a captain of his own division. And Soshiro had just about joined the defense force. Hoping to prove his worth.

But that was easier said than done.

It wasn't until Mina Ashiro had walked in. Scouting him directly from the Kansai District. Offering him a chance to join the Third Division and rise to the top to become her Vice Captain. But even then, it had still felt like a blow to his existence who had been fighting just to stay in the game.

“I need your abilities. Will you join my force, Hoshina?” Captain Ashiro of the Third Division had spoken. Unabashed upon his entrance to her office. It had been one of those rare instances where he got to visit the Tokyo District. And he wondered if the woman in front of him was being serious in her resolve.

“Me?” He gives a wry chuckle. “Not sure I follow Captain.”

“You're a blade specialist. Yes?”

“That's correct.” He spoke with a weary formality.

“We can't overlook the possibility of miniature-sized Kaiju cropping down the line.” The Captain had spoken with determination. And her eyes meet Soshiro's with much the same determination she had when she first offered him a place next to her.

“When I need to shoot a threat, can I trust that you'll clear a path for me?”

…

Soshiro was frozen on the spot.

He was practically unable to answer her. Too shocked at the mere possibility of being offered a need for his skill with the blade. He had been forced to carry a gun with him before, and that didn't end well. Yet here she was, seeking assistance in a blade specialist who had so often struggled to keep up with entire platoons who had wielded firearms instead of steel.

So why now? Why was it when he resolved to only use blades did Captain Ashiro of the Third Division scout him out? Modern Kaiju of this day and age were large. Gigantic with plated shells that even firearms had struggled to pierce through. What good would a sword do in that situation?

And yet even then, he thought about it.

The possibility of fighting his way in the midst of soldiers who carried firearms and freezing rounds. The sheer thought of rushing forward and slicing Kaiju with the perfected combat abilities he had been polishing way before he had resolved to join the Defense Force.

But before he could resolve to make an answer, the door had opened. And you had entered the fray.

“Him? Well I suppose this isn't the first time the Third's willing to recruit strange people.”

Strange?

Soshiro had looked to the side. Catching a glimpse at your figure as you slowly closed the door behind you. Hands shoved to the front pocket of your lab coat as you walked right next to him. Saluting towards Captain Ashiro to formally greet her upon meeting her gaze.

“Captain.” You addressed. Right beside Soshiro. And you could feel his stares poking through your sides.

“At ease.” The Captain looks back towards him. “Officer Hoshina. This here, is the Third's Lead Technician. She's a weapons specialist and will be here to provide your support should you choose to join our division.”

The sweet smile on your face had not faltered. Taking you back to a relaxed stance as you came face to face with Soshiro’s own scrutiny. His raised eyebrow had been an indication of his hesitancy towards you.

Your eyes had made contact with his. And although squinted, you could see the glimpse of his wine colored eyes. Observing you thoroughly from head to toe.

You weren't exactly sure what was running in his thoughts at the moment. But his skepticism was met by a similar opinion of your own. Not entirely sure if he was as good as Captain Ashiro praised him to be. Though you had to admit, he was at least somewhat nice on the eye.

“I heard about you.” He tilts his head. Fox-like in his gaze. And a smile had stretched amusingly on the corners of your lips.

“Oh? Good things I hope?” He looked unbothered. Though in a sense that his kindness was only a front that he had all but gotten used to in hiding. Likely from your comment from earlier. And you had an inkling that he had a few things to say of his own. Sly in the way he'll word it.

”I suppose..” His reply was curt.

“Heard yer’ one of the few technicians that actually make Specialized Bioweapons, that about right?”

You nod. “Only for the strange ones.”

“-Ones that can't conform to the normalcy of standard firearms. Much like you, it seems.”

This makes Soshiro’s lips quirk. Suddenly very aware that your statement had been a jab of sorts. One he had gotten used to from his own division. And such a challenge was directly and expertly countered back in tandem.

“Well yer’ not so normal yourself ya’ know?” His accent had been made much clearer. And your eyebrows raise. Slightly irate in the way he jabbed at you. Though you let him continue, just to see if he could keep up with his own feist.

“-Heard you were the Technician that was kicked out for bein’ so stubborn to work with.”

And you had to hold back a wry chuckle. It seems his smile had a few sharp claws to fight back with. “So you've heard.”

“-But I suppose you too are used to that very sentiment, yes?” Your words seem to make that easy smile of his falter slightly. It was a miniscule comment, but judging by the way he had remained silent. The tension of the room grew weary as the two sparked a similar glare for each other. And although he found the situation slightly amusing, his displeased conversation had definitely soured his thoughts of joining.

Maybe the Third Division wasn't the place for him either.

What were the chances he'd have a different point of view should he switch divisions now? Your existence proved the very mockery his brother had implied. His Father who was normally supportive had not praised him for wanting to join the Defense Force when all he had was his skill in the blade. And the thought alone is enough to convince him otherwise.

Captain Ashiro's offer had been tantalizing, but not definite. And he has half a mind to excuse himself before things could escalate.

But as luck would have it. Captain Ashiro had been observant. Her intentions were never to have them be at odds with one another. And she clears her throat in the hopes she could ease the tension in the room slightly.

Administering as the only superior officer in the room. Who needed to take much responsibility.

“Sleep on it, Hoshina. We could use a close combat specialist like you out there.”

And whether or not she meant that. There hadn't been much time before an alert went off. A pin placed on his thoughts as he had found himself participating with the Third's mission to exterminate acid spitting Kaiju on the eastern side of the Kanto region.

…

Despite his hesitance. The thought of it still remained. And as if magnetized, he found himself willingly transfering to the Third Division. Somehow surviving a Kaiju attack that he had helped fend off with Captain Ashiro's help.

His sword. One he brought with him from back home. Had all been melted to the hilt. Its black steel had an unnatural wave of color on it. A result of his reckless actions when he remembered having to cut through the insides of a Kaiju's mouth. Saving both himself and a child from being devoured and melted.

Had Captain Ashiro and Okonogi; the Third's Lead Operations gal. Not hac impeccable timing, he was sure he would've been dead meat by now. And yet here he was, alive coupled with only a few bruises on his sore body.

After a few days, he had recovered fairly well since then. Deployed from the hospital after a back and forth discussion between the Tokyo and Kansai district. And he had finally gotten permission for his official transfer. h

His things were readily packed as he made his way to the bunkers of Tachikawa's base.

And just as he had stared at the broken blade, he had debated on whether or not he should've just thrown it out to get a new one.

It took ages to convince the Kansai district to forge him a blade. Steel that could withstand the strength of Kaiju skin. Or have a high enough melting point so that the acidic burns of its saliva and stomach were not affected by it. But that type of material was hard to come by. Let alone, he doubts command would grant him access to such weaponry when he had done nothing to prove his usefulness.

So even then, when he had been given the minimum necessity, he had been careful in its uses. Unsure whether or not his platoon leader would allow him to be given a replacement blade when he had so little opportunity to showcase his skill infield.

He’d likely have to ask Platoon Leader Ebina for a replacement. He had so few extra blades to spare. But the Third had at least been kinder to him than his last division. Surely they'd grant him better access to the weaponry of his choice, right?

Though just as he loathed the thought. His footsteps halted.

And in the middle of the empty hallways, nearest the corner where the sleeping quarters should be. Your eyes had met with his once more. The first time in a while since your encounter in the confines of Captain Ashiro's office.

“It's you.” You had spoken.

Suddenly aware that he had been staring at the broken blade in his hand. Unfazed by the heavy duffle bag he had carried with his other arm. The sudden softness of your voice had been unexpected to say the least. Given the last animosity you both displayed towards each other.

You walked closer to inspect the melted steel. Having already heard the report from Captain Ashiro’s latest mission. And for a moment, he feels as if you had looked almost displeased at the weapon. Guilty for having assumed the worst of him. “Looks like the acid's melted it down. I assume you have a spare?”

He nods. Sheathing the broken shortsword back in its holster. Making it look like it hadn't been broken at all. “That's right. Though I ain’t excited that I'm gonna hafta' throw another one out.”

This makes you smile. And his eyes had widened ever so slightly at the sight of your pretty teeth

So that's what you looked like when you smiled.

“Figures. It isn't very common for people to use steel against Kaiju nowadays. Let alone swords.” You spoke slowly. And this time, you see the way his mouth visibly frowns. A stark contrast to that usual unbothered smile of his when you had first met him.

“Well I ‘spose I'm not your common folk.” He spoke tight-lipped. And you cringe inwardly at your thoughtless words.

You hadn't meant that. A force of bad habit it seems. One that came from a place of wanting to help.

A soldier’s life, especially one that dealt with monstrous Kaiju, had always tipped the balance between life and death. And you had thought it reckless to see him remain stubborn when you first heard your Captain praise Soshiro's skill in the blade. Your impression on him, had made you think he was a reckless fool who did not value his life. At least not enough to learn how to handle firearms.

Though now, after having witnessed his actions through Okonogi and a few key witnesses from that day. You knew that you had been wrong in your assumptions. Planning to make amends the only way you knew how.

Your place as a Technician who could only fight through the weapons you made. One that you hoped would help people survive. Even for just a minute longer, just to make a difference.

“I didn't-” Your words were cut short. Not entirely sure why your voice had cut from the tip of your tongue. So instead you move closer grabbing the hilt of his blade from his fingertips. And that alone makes Soshiro tilt his head in confusion. “Here, let me have a look.”

And he watches you admire the weight and feel of the weapon. Staring at the black leather hilt that he had so often found himself gripping. Enough to cause a few dents in the area. Only further proving his dedication to his craft. But he did not understand your actions. Far too vague in deciphering you when he barely knew much to tell if your actions had been one of curiosity or just sheer brazenness.

“Do you…have something against me? Or is there somethin’ I’m missing here?" He blurts out. Unsure if your earlier comments were made from a place of ignorance or as a way to insult his way of fighting.

And your eyes had so easily pried from the blade and back to his face. Surprised that the relaxed persona of his had momentarily disappeared.

And for a second, you felt the weight of added guilt in the way you had addressed him earlier.“Against you? No, I-”

You sigh. “Not really. If anything I'm interested in you.” Managing to blurt out, almost frowning at the way you stumbled to admit that. Somehow that had been hard to say in front of his face.

“That so?” He tilts his head with a smile. “And here I was, under the impression that you hated my guts.”

You had half a mind to roll your eyes. Make another comment that might've irked his feathers for a bit. But you stopped yourself. Finding the smile on his face much more pleasant than you had imagined. A far cry from the masked practiced one he had adorned when you first met him with. And this time, you had made an effort to be more sincere.

“You've gained my trust.” You simply spoke. This time in a much more pleasant tone than you had anticipated. “I was wrong. I misjudged your confidence for stupidity.”

His eyes had trained over each other. And silence swept over them before you spoke hesitantly once more.

“I thought you were unwilling to adapt to change. But I see now you are much more careful than I anticipated.” Your admission makes him look away momentarily. Suddenly unused to such sincerity after their last meeting.

“Your skill in the blade is impeccable. And instead of being stupid, I'll replace your weapon for you.”

He raises his brow. Not entirely sure what you were getting at until you held the weighted blade with one hand. Unused to the way you had spoken softly this time. Almost apologetic even.

“You mean replace my weapon of choice?” He had assumed as much. Maybe you’d hand him a gun and see just how terrible he'd be at it. But you had almost smacked yourself on the head for wording things so vaguely.

“No.” Your reply was immediate. Making it clear that you had not meant to insult his skill in swordsmanship. That much was for sure. And maybe that had been the first spark that finally got through the both of you. That you had not meant to offend each other. Not this time.

“I meant–the material your weapon is made out of. It's barely functional, let alone made for slicing thick-skinned Kaiju. I didn't mean too.. yeah.”

Your words had caught his throat dry. And Somehow the awkwardness you had displayed had made him chuckle in response. Amused in the way you too, had stumbled in your words when you had so confidently spoken to him last time. He wonders if you were even the same person who'd responded with the feist he had experienced first-hand. Jabs and all.

Normally conversations like these would lead to persuasion. A simple comment to get him to use other weapons. To give up on his hard work with the blade.

By all means, he was used to the impracticality of his craft.

He was good with the blade. A prodigy some would call him. But his weapon of choice had not been suited for practical use. Often delegated as a Martial Arts technique, required to join the Defense Force as a form of experience.

But it seems he had forgotten who he was talking to.

For you had not been a very practical person either. A technician who made specialized weapons for the odd who would not dare conform to the standard way of fighting a modern Kaiju. And this time, he understood the words you had struggled to say out loud. Your apologies were clear, and you wanted to help. Even if you did look adorably helpless in trying to offer that option to him. “So, what I'm getting at is that, yer’ offering to help me. Yeah?”

“Yeah. Cause I have no idea how you survived for this long with such a flimsy weapon.”

“‘Scuse me?” He couldn't help but laugh a little more. Finding your bluntness a charm. Your aura had been quite different from his initial assumptions. And it seems you were just a bold individual who was unafraid of speaking the truth if need be.

And the thought alone made him smile. Much more genuine in the way he realized he'd be faced with.

“Normally people just tell me that I'm bein’ stubborn by sticking to the front lines. But never that..” He chortled again. Finding the amusement almost breathtaking to stand upright.

And the sound of his laughter had been similar to the pretty bells you once heard during the peak hours of a windchimes's ring. Nice and genuinely pretty.

If he had laughed like that everyday, it might make things a little harder for you to deal with. But you ignore the quick pace in your heart strings. Rolling your eyes as if nothing changed in your demeanor.

“Oh please. I've seen it from the Operations Room. You're more than capable. But the weapons they've given you are…subpar to say the least.”

“-If you actually want to do more, you're gonna need a stronger steel base than this.” You had flicked your finger against the holster of the blade. And the sound of contact had echoed to his ear. And suddenly he is all too aware of that soft smile plastered on your face.

A confidence brimming in you that told him all he needed to know. A thought that you'd help him. To stick by his side and pave a way for him. Starting with a better weapon.

“And I can help you. If you let me.”

“Oh. So you're offering to fix my blade for me?”

“Even better. I'm offering you specialized blades. Ones that won't break so easily.” You beamed. And the sight of your eagerness had made him almost giddy. It almost sounded like a pipe dream in the way you had offered no hesitance in supporting him. It was a breath of fresh air amidst the many who had given up on him.

“Though of course, you'd have to rise through the ranks. Command will only authorize special made weapons for the strongest Officers after all.”

“Like Captain Ashiro?” He had spoken out of turn. A tilt on his head at the memory of her rather peculiar specialty. “I assume you'd want someone who can dish out firepower as strong as hers.”

It was no secret that the Captain of the Third Division had an unusual affinity for firearms. Her large weapon was akin to a cannon, fit to destroy larger than life Kaiju should they appear before them. But you had all but shook your head at his comment. Already one step ahead to stop his doubts from formulating. And somehow, despite the difficulty in reading him. You found yourself able to at least grasp a feeling of his inferiority. One that had been beaten down on his very body that had made you feel guilty at the words he endured.

The very same words you've mocked him with.

“No. The rest of the command can have Mina Ashiro for all I care. It's you I want.” You pointed to him. your finger squarely on his chest. And he hopes you couldn't feel the vapid way his heart was hammering upon its contact with the fabric of his standard uniform jacket. Eyes fixated at your determination and unexpected confidence in him.

“But why? Wouldn't ya’ prefer someone more capable in both long and close range weapons?”

“Like who?” You had inquired. And suddenly his thoughts shift to that amazing but annoying recruit he's encountered during his entry exams. One that he had formed a small rivalry with since they had entered the force right around the same time.

“Maybe someone like Gen Narumi?” He shrugs. Though you could tell he was hesitant in his choice of words. Which makes you chuckle. “The soldier who requested a ridiculously large bayonet? No.”

Somehow that made Soshiro visibly relaxed.

“He’s good but there's nothing I can do that can help him further. But you on the other hand?”

He raises his brows. Seeing the way you tilt your head forward towards him. And his breath is caught on his lungs, unencumbered in the way you speak your mind openly and in confidence towards him. Comparison did not exist in your mind. And from the look on your eyes, there had not been an edge of doubt in the way you responded almost immediately to his doubts.

“I'd be a pretty bad Technician if I didn't see your uses beyond that sword of yours.”

“So ya need me?” He spoke incredulously. And although it embarrasses you, you give him a curt nod. That makes a chuckle escape from his lips. “And suddenly I'm beginin’ to feel special since I joined the Third Division.”

“Well, it's true. The rest may not be able to see it. But I know it.” You paused. Looking at him in sincerity. One that he was not used to seeing. And he flinches upon your hand grabbing his own. Feeling the way his skin had rich blisters that had been replaced with heavy calluses over the time he spent training.

“You'll save more lives than I can count, and the only way you'll do that is if you're given a proper blade.”

“-Created by yours truly of course.” You let go of his hand. Hopefully he hadn't noticed the red tint on your cheeks as you looked away. And his laugh is the first thing you hear that makes you want to admire his pretty face.

“Yer crazy..” He shook his head.

Though more of a vapid insult. The smile remaining on his pretty lips had indicated it was done on jest. And for a moment, you were suddenly all too aware of how husky his voice had been, or how much taller he had shadowed over you. Or how much better he looked when he smiled.

And you find yourself taking a few steps back. The broken blade already slotted on your shoulder. Ready to take it to your lab and get a head start on designing a suitable prototype for him.

“So I've heard. But the Third Division is already full of that, don't you think?” And he couldn't help but nod. Watching the way you had slowly walked passed him. Already unused to the given space you had provided. For a moment, he wished you had held his hand longer. It had made him miss the warmth of your closeness from earlier.

“I suppose so. It's a lot different from the Kansai district, I'll give ya’ that.” He turned. Watching as you retreated slowly. And with a single glance, you had all but piqued the very last of his interest.

Suddenly, it was like getting caught on a hook. And he’s afraid he'd be seeking you out everyday. If he can help it.

If you’d allow it.

“If they couldn't make you shine then I'll make sure to pave that way for you. No kaiju is gonna break that sword of yours.” You turn around. Already taking a step forward. Hiding your pink face from his sight. Which he was admiring rather languidly had you not turned your head.

“You have my word.” You had finished off. And before he could even reply, Soshiro was left in the empty hallways of Tachikawa base.

The sudden absence made him slacken, who had gotten so used to your comforting presence. But in spite of his disappointment, he somehow found himself smiling on his own.

It sure is strange hearing someone say that to him.

Mina Ashiro may have been the first to ask of him. To request an offer for his help in the field. His assistance would prove helpful in the face of her attacks, which was made for long ranged weaponry. And he had finally gotten a chance to prove his worth to the defense force. By means of paving a path to slay the Kaiju that got in her way.

But you had been the first to offer that yourself. To pave a path for HIM should any Kaiju get in HIS way.

You offered him a chance to shine.

And he'd be damned if he doesn't reach that expectation of yours.

The one who had challenged him to go beyond a greater height than he had ever envisioned himself climbing. To be needed.

It wasn't after half a month later had he come back boasting the highest melee kill count from small to midsize threats of Kaiju. His actions ebbing a spark in the third's outlook on Bladed users. Inspiring a few onslaught of officers to join a few joint training sessions held swordsmanship. The Kendo match between districts has become a much more popular feat than before.

Now, learning the blade wasn't a simple formality anymore. It had been another path forward. And although only a fool would continue to wield a blade instead of the practicality of long ranged weaponry. Hoshina Soshiro had been that very same fool. He who pushed forward like a madman and insisted on using his signature shorthanded blades, despite the odds stacked against him

And Mina Ashiro had placed a great deal of faith in him. Enough to promote him to a platoon leader. And eventually a Vice Captain of the third Division.

And your eyes had never lingered elsewhere in his pursuit.

Often following his line of sight when you'd seen him train on the very confines of the training room. And even now, you had stared directly at him. Unable to look away.

Not when he had entered your lab with the unusual formality of his standard uniform. His star studded pin hooked on the left side of his jacket's chest. An insignia that had been a symbol of his inauguration as the new Vice Captain of Third Division's upper ranks. His title attained by the mere fraction of his efforts and hardwork.

And you dare not face him with such petty grievances like you had in the past. A smile etched on your pretty lips as you greeted him in a mock salute. As if to tell him you had been expecting this day to come.

“Took you a while, Vice Captain. I almost thought you'd given up on me.” Your joke had made him let out a chuckle. Closing the door behind him as he walked up to your place nearest the desk.

“And miss out on yer’ startled face? Never.” He had spoken more informally than you had imagined. Which made you drop the mock salute you had given him. Rolling your eyes as you moved to stand. Heading to the next desk over as he followed you suit.

“I think you're the one that should be startled.” You had hinted with a giddy giggle.

The correction made Soshiro tilt his head. A sort of curiosity washing over him. And you watch as he closes the gap between his and the proximity of your bubble. Braving to graze his shoulders against you as he crosses your side. Eyes magnetized in the way it had seen your pretty smile. “Oh. Didya' have a surprise for me? Didn't peg you as someone who gave gifts often.”

And you lean forward, nearest his chest. As if to whisper your little secret that you've been meaning to show him for a while now. “In case you forgot, let me remind you.”

Upon landing his gaze on the small glass case on the desk, you had moved your hands to slowly remove the top cover. Revealing the two refined swords around the same length of his arms.

The outer casing, its holster. Was tinted purple like his dark hair. The hints of military green had no doubt matched that of their Combat Suit's design. And it veered to life the moment his eyes fell upon the familiar insignia of the Third Division's logo atop of its hilt. A sign that this weapon had been his.

Well at least, he assumed as much. Judging from the proud and almost excited look on your face. “I finished your swords.” You spoke factually. “Just need your verdict on the matter.”

His eyes had widened. This had been a stark difference from his previous blade. The way it was made was measured perfectly to the length of his arms. The sword bent in a grip for just the way he preferred it to. And its tip? The one where a pivot was placed had been an indication that it was designed so that he could connect the two blades. Form it into one long sword, if he truly wished to.

That alone was an indication that this was likely not a normal melee. Made of simple bronze or steel.

No.

This was a bioweapon. Made from Kiaju to kill Kaiju. One that was only granted to the strongest in the Force. One that had been ready for his use. Built in custom to his preferences. And their eyes met, only confirming his suspicions when she had given him an awkward shrug of her shoulders. Acting as if invisible ink had occupied the space between their feet.

“I said I'd make you a weapon that won't break easily, didn't I?” In an instant, a hot flush billowed in his cheeks. Much the same when your normally hidden shyness had finally resurfaced.

The rare times it did, he couldn't help but stare. Far too enraptured in the gap that had swung between your feist and your awkward responses. And he nods in turn. Suddenly aware that you had been doing such a task so diligently to perfection. “I don't know what to say. I didn't think you'd actually make it.”

You hear him chuckle. And your shoulder had pushed him forward. Towards the weaponry you had made for him.“Go on, it's not like anybody else can use it.”

Soshiro had looked at you, hesitant in the way you had so readily offered him such a gift. Your words had been proven in the way your assurances hit his heart. And his hand had a mind of its own as it grabbed the hilt of the blade. Sliding its cover right off so he'd have a chance to see the refined structure of the thinly cut mass of iron.

One he had been accustomed to weilding since he had been born.

Though instead. He was met with the dark shade of a similar material. Stronger than Iron, nor any steel for that matter. It was a blade far too distinct to forget. Luminous in orange hues as if it burned with the same heat that had allowed him to move in the enhancement of his suit.

And it had been clear this weapon was far stronger than the rest of his blade. Bound to cut a Kaiju's outer shell much easier than his previous ones would let him.

And the light one that breathed with an eery calm had reflected his own wine red eyes on the blade. The very movement caused a sound cutting through air when he'd expertly move it with his fingertips.

A sight of which had glued your eyes onto him. Finding his stupor rather mesmerizing than usual. His concentration had not been a rare sight for you, especially when you had caught glimpses of the many nights he'd spend alone in the training room.

But being this close. Seeing the joy nipping at his face. Somehow it makes your heart flutter strangely. And you had to shake your head to snap yourself out of admiration for the man. Suddenly focusing your attention back to blade one which vyed for his approval.

“So, do you like it?”

Soshiro had hummed. The usual grin on his lips remained unphased despite the giddiness in his chest. “Mmm...I ‘spose it's subpar at best.”

“Excuse me? Rude.” He laughs at your comment. And he puts the blade back in its holder. Already placing it on the back of his waist, right where it belonged.

“I'm kidding.” He spoke immediately after. A laugh bellowing from his abs. Though your scrunched nose had made it difficult for you to believe his immediate reply.

“No, I'm serious. You've outdone yourself sweetheart. Never seen a sword this sharp before..” He looks you over, admiring the easy smile on your face. That and the nickname seems to have made your cheeks flare up in surprise.

And he had to remind himself to engrave that very image of you on the back of his mind. Fearing that he may never get to see such a sight again.

“Well say that first! It's kind of difficult reading your facial expressions, you know?” You huffed. Though the easy laughter of his had remained. And a smile soon replaces your hefty frown.

“Sorry, sorry. Is there a price I hafta pay ya’? You know, for making me such a nice weapon and all that.”

You shrug, scooting your way right in front of him where he could just as easily close the gap between the two of you.

Have your chest pressed up against his, hand gripping the plush of your lower back. Admiring the gentle way you'd likely stare up at him with flamed cheeks. But he stops, already feeling too guilty to indulge himself further. And your reply had been quick enough to distract him from any incoming thoughts that had pushed his mind to try and get closer to you.

“Only your help, when it comes to a few suit upgrades.”

Help huh? He supposes this would be a good excuse to go see you more often. Though the simplicity of such a task was a little more suspicious on your part. And he had an inkling you had a few things in mind that involved more than just that.

But then again. He couldn't exactly read you either. Not completely at least.

Not yet.

“Quite demanding, aren't we?” He nods.

You had rolled your eyes at his teasing.

“You're the one that offered. But fine, be like that.” You had crossed your arms. Already backing away, and you had felt the way he had firmly pulled you back. Hand against your elbow. Making you face him whilst he tilted his head in your direction.

“Now, now..I never said anything about refusing you didn't I?” He chuckles. And the deep rumble makes your stomach churn in small caterpillars. Ready to form butterflies should he continue.

“Wasn't that already implied?” You spoke. Aware of the way his palms had steadied you by the elbows. The hint of warmth against his skin was almost tantalizing to make you lean forward. But before you had the chance to, he let you go. Leaving only an inch of space between the both of you.

“Shh..” His finger had raised itself against your lips. Shushing you before you could make another smart quip at him that was sure to insight another bout of witty banter. One that he knew he'd grown accustomed to in the future.

“I was just messing with ya'” He laughs. Only confirming that he had been hooked indefinitely by you. And he moves his free hand to tug your hair behind your ear.

“Do you, or do you not want to help me?” You had asked incredulously. Already finding his musings rather annoying. But the way he looked at you had your breath caught in your throat.

His gaze, although clouded by the silent promise to himself. Had not seen the way you too had a similar look on your face. And whether or not you had been aware of this promise. It doesn't fail to make your heart pick up its pace. His voice was almost reminiscent of prayer when he spoke your name in a whisper.

“I do want to help.” He spoke slowly. And your eyes flutter closed wondering if his touch would linger for a bit longer. But his fingertips remained curt. Pulling back just as soon as it grazed your skin.

“And how do I know you're being serious?”

“All ya’ have to do is call me. And I’ll Certainly be Yours, if you want me to.”

And he meant it. He was sincere in his intention to get close to you. To help you like you had sworn to him. Use his skill to protect you, should you ever need it.

And somehow, he is reminded of the time his brother had spoken to him long ago. Back when they were kids, dueling with simple bamboo swords back in the peace of their own home. Eating those childhood rice balls in the afterhours of their respective schools.

Soichiro be damned. Because somehow he was correct in his predictions. His words were every bit of a mockery to his craft. And although it was a rare sight to have him be soft in his presence.

Somehow, that was the one time he did so dissolutely.

And now, it looks like he's found someone who needs him. With or without that blade of his.

And this time, there was genuinely no sense of mockery in the way he had met you.

He only hoped he wasn't too late.