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kaszuma · 5 months ago

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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.

#anime #kn8 #kaiju no. 8 #hoshina soshiro x reader #soshiro hoshina #hoshina soshiro #kaiju no 8 x reader #kn8 x reader #hoshina soichiro #mina ashiro #konomi okonogi #kaiju number 8 #kaiju #Kaiju no 8 B Side Manga #hoshina x reader #Vice Captain Hoshina #soshiro hoshina x reader

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ladykailitha · 8 months ago

Text

The Harrington Pattern Part 8

We have finally got to the part that started this whole story. Steve being validated by a professional.

Robin gets a pretty dress. And Eddie gets a little jealous.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

MY TAG LIST FOR THIS STORY IS CLOSED!!!!

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

****

Eddie joined them at the shop just as they were finishing up. Will used the extra ten he had to buy Steve a pretty little dagger that was mostly a letter opener, but Steve fell in love with it.

The dagger was silver with a moon in the hilt, the cross guard had moonstones on either side. It was nestled in a black velvet box that he was told he had to leave the dagger in and not pull it out while at the fair.

Steve promised he wouldn’t and turned around to nearly run right into Eddie.

“Whoa!” Eddie said, putting out his hands to steady Steve. “I didn’t realize I was that close to you.”

Steve blushed. “You get your schedule sorted for tomorrow?”

Eddie grinned. “Sure did, sweet thing. Will get his staff?”

“I don’t think I’ve seen anyone so happy,” Steve said with a smile. He jutted his thumb behind him to where Will was happily chatting with the seller.

Eddie peered around Steve to see where he was pointing and sure enough, Will was talking to the guy about magical users in DND and how they should expand it to include other types.

Will spotted Eddie and said goodbye to the seller. He rushed over to where Steve and he were talking.

He held out the staff for Eddie to look at. “What do you think?”

Eddie and Steve shared a fond smile. “It looks great. Will the Wise has finally got a staff worthy of him.”

Will blushed.

“We should put it in Eddie’s van,” Steve suggested, “so it doesn’t get stolen.”

Eddie cocked his head to the side. “Why my van?”

“Because it won’t fit in my car,” he replied with a blush staining his cheeks and creeping up his ears.

Eddie cackled. “Fair enough, Stevie!” He looked around and spotted Gareth with an arm full of all sorts of wares, from swords and armor, to decorative goblets and boxes that no doubt held jewelry.

“Hey Gare!” he said following an ear piercing whistle.

The younger man lit up and jogged over to the trio.

“Hey, Ed!” Gareth said with a shit eating grin. “You like my haul?”

Eddie shook his head. “Sometimes I think your parents have more money than sense, but I’m not about to begrudge a well plotted haul.”

Gareth grinned. “Oh, they absolutely have more money than sense. I just know how to use that to my advantage.”

Will and Steve laughed with them.

Eddie pulled out his keys. “Since you’re clearly in need to be relieved of your loot or grow three extra arms, you should take Will to stash your stuff for later.”

Will’s eyes lit up. “Oh, that’s a great idea!”

Steve just shook his head fondly as he watched the two boys walk off chatting about their prizes.

“It’s nice to see Will come out of his shell around new people,” he said to Eddie. “He really needs friends outside of the Party.”

Eddie nodded. “And it helps that I forced them to be read in with Wayne because there was no way I was going to keep a secret that big with the people who are my family.”

They began their stroll through the other stalls, stopping here and there.

Steve spotted a clothing shop and armory and he sided eyed it longingly. There was no way he would the money for anything in that shop. He chewed his bottom lip and was about to move along, when Eddie grabbed his wrist and pulled him toward a black leather cloak.

Steve was admiring the construction when he heard a voice behind him say, “That’s a neat tunic, but you do know that you’re supposed to wear a chain shirt under that specific kind, right?”

Steve turned around to see a buxom red head in a bodice and flowing red dress. Her hair was piled messily on her head, but Steve could tell it was artfully done as the structure seemed too sound to be accidental.

“Can’t afford the see the armorer,” he said with a wink and a half shrug.

She laughed. “I guess I deserved that.”

Eddie smirked.

“I like your tunic,” the red head said, looking Steve up and down. Eddie bristled next to him. “Where did you get it from?”

Steve grinned, placing a comforting hand on Eddie’s elbow. “I made it.”

She raised an eyebrow. “No shit. Really?”

“Yes, he did,” Eddie defended. “He’s amazing.”

Steve flushed with pleasure at his praise. “I dabble. I’ve been sewing for about a decade now.”

She walked up to him and admired the stitching on the hem on the tunic. “That’s really impressive.”

“Thanks, I was admiring your work on the construction of the cloak here,” Steve said. “Was it hand sewn?”

“Fuck no!” she said, rolling her eyes. “I wouldn’t have time to breathe if I did that.” She smiled to have him join in on her joke. But when Steve continued looking at her in awe. “Wait...” she said, as it slowly dawned on her. “You did all of this by hand?”

She brought the hem of his tunic up to her face. Steve blushed and Eddie batted her hand away.

“Oi! Don’t get fresh!”

She raised an eyebrow at him.

“I think a name would be a good start before you go and get grabby,” he growled.

“Oh!” she said slapping her forehead. “Right, sorry! I’m Katie. I run Damsel in this Dress. Nice to meet you.”

“I’m Steve and this is Eddie,” Steve said.

Eddie looked only slightly mollified and Steve rubbed his lower back soothingly. Eddie preened, leaning into the touch.

Steve cleared his throat. “But anyways, yeah I stitched it all by hand. My parents didn’t think a boy should ‘play’ with a sewing machine.” He put play in air quotes.

Katie’s eyes went wide and she looked back at the tunic hem in her hand. “But it’s so tight and even...”

Eddie grinned. “Isn’t he amazing?”

She looked over at him. “He do yours too?”

Steve shook his head. “No, not his.” He spotted Robin walking by. “But I see someone else’s outfit I worked on.”

“Robin!” he called out.

His soulmate came to a...well stop wouldn’t be quiet accurate as she kept in motion, flailing around a bit trying to regain her balance from her aborted step.

“Steve!” she called back and hurried over to him.

Katie looked her up and down. “You did her costume too?” She raised a skeptical eyebrow at Steve.

Robin grinned. “Hell yeah, he did! He’s awesome!”

Katie looked back and forth between them. “May I look?”

“Oh I know!” Eddie said cheerfully. “Why don’t they try on something of yours so that you can take a look at their costumes without you having to get all handsy.”

Robin raised an eyebrow at Eddie but turned gleefully to Katie. “That sounds like a great compromise.”

Katie cocked her head back and forth. “Could do, I suppose.”

Steve immediately went for the chain shirts, while Robin wandered around some.

“You’d look pretty in one of my corsets,” Katie said waiting for Steve to get out of the tunic to hand it to her.

Robin blushed. “Aren’t they like painful and gross?”

Katie laughed clear and bright. “Not really. For centuries they were the only form of support a women had. Now, there were tight lacing bodices and corsets, but that wouldn’t happen until much later.”

Robin chewed her bottom lip. She really liked the blue dress and the blue and gold corset. “Can I try on those?” She pointed to the ones she liked.

“What’s your bra size?” Katie asked pulling out the right size dress.

“Uh...” Robin said with a blush. “It’s not very...”

Katie nodded. “It’s fine. I think I’ve got the right one for you anyway, but if it’s too tight or too loose let me know and I’ll find a different size.”

Robin nodded and Steve came out of the dressing room to hand her his tunic.

Eddie let out a low whistle. “Looking good, Sir Stephen.”

Steve did a slow turn and both Eddie and Katie gave him appraising glances.

Robin peeked her head out form behind the curtain. “Um...help?”

Katie was immediately by her side. “What’s up?”

Robin walked out with the laces in her hands and corset not tied.

“Oh!” Katie said. “God, the heat must getting to my brain today. Odd’s Botkins!”

She grabbed laces and showed Robin how to lace it properly.

“How does fit?” she asked stepping back to admire her creation on Robin.

Robin grinned. “I never realized how much I slouched until just now.”

“Yeah,” Katie said with a laugh, “I hear that a lot.” She spun Robin around causing the skirt of the dress to billow out like water rippling in the breeze.

“Wow, Robbie,” Steve said in awe. “That’s gorgeous.”

Eddie hummed his agreement. “Looking good, Buckster!”

Robin squeaked and then dashed back into the dressing room. She came back out with the shirt Steve had altered for her.

Katie took the shirt and tunic and laid them both out on the counter where the cash box was.

“It’s literally seamless,” she said in awe. “And you did this by hand?”

Steve nodded. “But I’ve been doing it for years so...” He half shrugged.

“Hey, man,” Eddie huffed, “don’t diminish your awesomeness. This is hell of a job.”

Steve nodded, blush creeping back up on his cheeks again.

“What’s this?” Katie asked, tapping the embroidery on the hems of both pieces. It was a lovely little floral pattern that was off white on Robin’s shirt so that it blended in, but was a striking silver on Steve’s tunic.

Eddie leaned forward. “Oh, I never noticed that before.” He smiled widely at Steve. “It’s cute.”

Steve flushed even deeper, the red now covering his whole face. “It’s a little something I add to all of my designs. It’s a little signature if you will, so you’ll always know I made it.”

“A Harrington pattern?” Robin asked, leaning over to inspect the embroidery, too.

Steve nodded.

“Have you thought about selling your pieces?” Katie asked. “You could be making bank with these.” She lifted up the shirt to emphasize her point.

Steve shrugged. “Sure, but I wouldn’t have any idea where to sell them or who to sell them to.”

“I’ll sell them for you,” she said, “for a cut of the profits, of course. I sell at gaming and comic conventions, Ren fairs, sci-fi and fantasy conventions.”

Steve chewed on his lip. “I don’t make them very quickly. With them being all hand sewn.”

“Which makes it all the more valuable,” Katie insisted. “A hand sewn dress from a major clothing designer would be worth thousands, sweetie.”

Robin mouthed the word ‘thousand’ in shock.

Eddie pounded Steve on the shoulder. “Hell yeah! Just sell a couple of pieces every once in while and you’ll always having spending money.”

Steve thought it over and then nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I’d like that.”

Katie and Robin cheered while Eddie and Steve shared a warm smile between them. A smile that sent butterflies through Steve’s chest. Eddie was always there for him.

Always.

Katie pulled out a business card. “Give me a call when you’ve got pieces you want to sell. And don’t leave off that signature either. Your Harrington Pattern as your friend called it.”

Steve took the card frowning. “But won’t that make it harder to sell? Especially the male stuff?”

She shook her head. “The people that buy this sort of thing are the last people that would care about a floral design, particularly since it would make it more authentic.”

He blinked and mouthed ‘oh’. She was right. “Yeah okay.” He lifted the card. “Thanks for this. I guess Robin and I better go change out of these so you can have them back.”

Katie shook her head. “Think of them as an investment in Steve Harrington’s clothing venture.” She lit up and dashed over to the cloaks. She grabbed the leather one that Eddie had been admiring and held it out to him.

“For you too.”

Eddie blinked, he wanted to turn it down and would have, had Steve not taken it and draped it on his shoulders.

The inside had a soft almost fur like material that was a slate grey. It would be too hot to wear in the summer, but in winter he would be outright toasty in it.

“Thank you,” he whispered. He wasn’t sure if he was thanking her or Steve, but it didn’t really matter. He was grateful to both. He looked up at Robin.

“You’ll probably want to change out of yours, Robbie,” he said, carefully removing the cloak and draping it over his arm.

“Why’s that?” she asked with a pout.

A grin took over Eddie’s face. The mischievous one that always sent a lance of heat in Steve’s gut every time he saw it. “Because you’ll want to look rocking for the joust tomorrow.”

Katie grinned too. “That is an excellent idea, good sir!”

Robin seemed to agree because she grabbed her shirt and dashed back into the dressing room.

Steve was surprised she remembered the shirt, if he was honest.

Katie and Eddie helped him get the tunic over the chain shirt without snagging the cloth on the metal.

Robin came out mere seconds later with her prizes clutched to her chest.

“Thank you!” she squealed. “I can’t wait to wear it tomorrow!”

They all went to the parking lot to put away Eddie and Robin’s prizes. The cloak in the van, and the dress and corset in the trunk of Steve’s car.

Steve was grinning from ear to ear and couldn’t stop.

****

Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

Damsel in This Dress is an actual Ren Faire staple from where I'm from.

Yup, still on my Gareth lives in Loch Nora agenda.

And while I don't ship Will/Gareth Will needs friends who aren't trauma bonded, you know?

MY TAG LIST FOR THIS STORY IS CLOSED!!!

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1@zerokrox-blog @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666 @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @thespaceantwhowrites @paintgonewrong @mogami13 @beelze-the-bubkiss @croatoan-like-its-hot @retro-vagabond @sani-86 @pansexuality-activated @y4r3luv @dauntlessdiva @vampire-eddie-brain-rot @lololol-1234 @nightmareglitter

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #steve is a history nerd

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deathmetalunicorn1 · 1 year ago

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A Female Tengen Uzui Reader with Yandere Shiva, Rudra, Indra, Loki, Raiden, Buddha and Qin Shi Huang who introduces herself, in a very flashy way, as the ‘Goddess of Festivals and anything Flashy’ and that she calls her opponent ‘Trash’ (Her opponent is pissed and tries to bring this arrogant mortal woman down a peg, only for Reader to WREAK him, winning her fight, in a very flashy way of course) after she’s healed up, (God)/(Human) tells her she was amazing, only for Reader to go “Well yeah. I’m a flashy, glamorous goddess of Festivals, that’s a no-brainer. Not to brag but I have 3 husbands too!” and God/Human goes brain dead for a moment, only for Reader to say “And I saw your fight and what a flashy display of power! If your interested, I’m willing to make you my 4th Husband. After all, a strong and brilliant flashy ‘goddess’ like myself wouldn’t have anything less!”

-When the arena found out the next fighter for humanity was going to be a woman, many doubted you, most of the gods laughed, thinking this was going to be an easy fight, while many of the humans were worried.

-Your opponent, Nergal, went out first, only some cheering for him, as he was such an evil and vile god, the only ones that were really cheering for him were ones that just wanted him to win, not because they liked him.

-A spotlight shone down on the entrance for humanity, and three men were at the top, throwing cherry blossoms down as the door opened.

-Your dual swords, connected by a chain in the middle, was slung around your neck as you skipped out, a bright grin on your face as you posed dramatically as Heimdall introduced you.

-You then pointed at him, leering down at him, “Wrong! I’m the Goddess of Festivals and anything Flashy!”

-Heimdall wasn’t quite sure what to make with you, as your makeup was done dramatically, hair pulled up in matching space buns, and while your outfit was plain, a black demon slayer uniform, you wore a bright and sparkly headband.

-You were quite flashy, blowing kisses up at your darling husbands who all grinned down at you.

-Nergal was annoyed, seeing such a cocky woman as you spun your swords around with easy, showing off before you pointed one of blades at him, “Shame that my opponent is trash- totally unflashy!”

-The gods quickly grew enraged at your disrespect, many jeering at you that Nergal was going to kick your ass while Nergal was fuming, calling you a shameful woman.

-Your battle was the shortest of the tournament, only lasting about six minutes, jaws were hanging, mouths open and eyes bulged.

-You made it look so easy to fight! You handed Nergal’s ass to him on a silver platter covered in sparkles and glitter. You were a seasoned and skilled fighter, anyone could see that, even the other warriors who were all in awe of your skills.

-You were only a little roughed up, nothing major like some of the other competitors, except for one cut across your left cheek that needed some stitches, a lucky shot Nergal had managed to get.

-Your husbands were cuddling you, praising your skills while you were grinning brightly, enjoying the attention, speaking so gently, so fondly to each of them.

-They left after a while, as you needed to get cleaned up, and only moments later a knock came to the door and you opened it, not caring you were topless except for the bandages around your chest.

-The man at the door was stunned to see you in such a state, but you weren’t bothered before he grinned warmly down at you, “Your fight was amazing Y/N! I wanted to come and tell you in person because you were breathtaking out there!”

-You beamed brightly, hands on your hips, “Well not to brag- but I am awesome! Both in fights and in life, I’ve got three lovely husbands to look after me!”

-He was stunned, as he didn’t realize this, a bit dumbstruck before you grinned up at him, giving him a small wink, “I saw your fight too, handsome, you were very flashy yourself! I could always use a fourth husband if you’re interested, since you’re the best and I only deserve the best!”

-Shiva- Was very…stunned to meet a woman like you, you were confident and cocky, but could back it up, you were so soft with your husbands, just like how he was with his wives, you were like a mirror image of himself. You couldn’t help but laugh, which got him quickly laughing, when he told you he had three wives, seeing the comparison between the two of you. Shiva couldn’t help but like you, he wanted you by his side, but he knew he could do nothing against your darling husbands, as they were there first, just like how Shiva’s wives were there first with him. When you brought the notion of combining the two families, his wives and your husbands were shocked to say the least, but they all agreed, as long as boundaries and rules were followed, which nobody was really bothered by. SCORE!! Husband number four and three wives as well! You were living the good life!

-Rudra- Was stunned by your forwardness, your cockiness, but he knew you could back it up and for some reason, he didn’t dislike your bold nature. Most women he knew were more reserved, sometimes, but you were completely different, and he fell hard and fast. Your other husbands were very welcoming, something that surprised the Storm God, as you four were humans, despite your insistence that you were a goddess, but he wasn’t complaining. Rudra learned that despite your ferocity when fighting and your cockiness with everything, you were so soft and gentle with your husbands, and Rudra was no different, you let him lay his head on your lap and he basked in your gentle affections, running your fingers through his hair. He was content in sharing you with your other co-husbands, as they were there first, but he wasn’t about to let anyone else join unless if you said so.

-Indra- Your arrogance annoyed him when you first walked out into the arena, you were obnoxiously arrogant, but as he watched you fight, he couldn’t even lift his cigarette to his lips, in awe. You were cocky, but you definitely could back it up. When you proposed that he become your fourth husband, Indra did have to admit that he was annoyed, but your praise, that you acknowledged him as a strong fighter and worthy enough to be your husband, he couldn’t help but be a little happy. He was not shy, but rather tsundere, with you and your husbands, as they were very welcoming to Indra, while you were so soft and gentle with the four of them, a stark contrast to when he first met you. As time passed, you had him wrapped around your finger and he wouldn’t hesitate to defend you or his co-husbands, something he still gets shy admitting.

-Loki- His eyes were huge and sparkly at your proposal, almost instantly sweeping you into his arms, hugging tightly which made you laugh warmly, liking his enthusiasm. He was like a toddler with your other three husbands, not wanting to share, which got them all competing for your attention, which you thought was cute and they all bonded, using different tactics and Loki had to admit the three of them were quick to grow on him, just like you. Your four husbands were like a pack of wolves, guarding their beloved mate, fiercely, nobody was allowed to approach you unless you said it was okay, you were truly the alpha of your pack. Odin was grateful to you for keeping Loki in check, as Loki liked it when you punished him~

-Raiden- Was like a giant puppy with you, in complete awe as he had never met a woman like you before, confident, powerful, and beautiful, you were the perfect woman! Your co-husbands were very quick to warm up to Raiden, he was so warm and inviting and you got a good show when the four of them decided to have a drinking contest, which you ended up winning. Raiden fit in so well with your family, he was the missing puzzle piece you never knew was missing, your other husbands adored him, finding him fun but easy to get along with, while all four of them adored you. You treated them all equally, never giving any preferential treatment over the other, which they liked, but wouldn’t hesitate to tease each other, like Raiden would hug you close, “She gave me four kisses!” while holding you hostage, so you couldn’t give your other husbands any more kisses.

-Buddha- He liked the vibe you were giving off, you were so full of life and energy, so full of fun, but also so full of love. Your proposal was a bit surprising but he bounced back quick, giving you a warm smirk and almost immediately accepted. Your husbands were surprised to find out you had married a god, getting a fourth husband, but Buddha always seemed to match the energy levels and was just so fun to be around. He was great for cuddling and relaxing, not just with you, all four of your husbands could just vibe and enjoy time together without you being around. However, when you weren’t around, their family wasn’t complete, not until you were sandwiched between the four of them, drowning in their kisses and love before demanding it back, which you were more than happy to do.

-Qin Shi Huang- The former and first emperor had never met a woman like you before, you weren’t afraid to talk back to him if he stepped out of line, you were funny, loud, but at the same time, he felt himself drawn to you like a moth to a flame. He desired to see what other sides there were to you and instantly accepted your proposal. He wasn’t bothered that you now had four husbands, in his time he had multiple wives and concubines, and he had to admire you that you gave all four of them equal attention, favoring none of them over the others. He fit right into your family, as he was flashy and obnoxious as well, something your three husbands had to learn quickly how to control, as the two of you were quite the handful when you wanted to be, however they wouldn’t have it any other way, else they would be bored.

#record of ragnarok #ror x reader #ror shiva #ror rudra #ror indra #ror loki #ror raiden #ror buddha #ror qin shi huang

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wroteclassicaly · 2 years ago

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hope you had a good nap k <3 you did such a good job last time with eddie and steve painting reader's face and ruining her makeup. but tbh now i wanna ruin HIS makeup!! riding eddie's face and squirting all over him sounds like so much fun rn :(

OKAY, soooooo — this idea popped into my head almost immediately after I read your ask! I hope this is okay? It turned into something of my own weird muse, haha. We love dirty riding/messy time to ruin that boy, don’t we? All support for it in this household!

Summary: Eddie tries out a new look for a show. He wanted it to be intense, but that doesn’t even begin to cover it.

Warnings: Language, NSFW, oral sex, face riding, vaginal fingering, small p*ss kink (mentioned only), mirror play, handsy Eddie, hair pulling, and squirting.

A/N: This is unedited, so I’m sorry if it looks awful because of that. I wanted to get this out for the rest of y’all too, and I was inspired! The imagery I have of what I was picturing as Eddie’s look… fuuuuuck me 🤤

When your boyfriend of seven months stated that he had a surprise for you, what is currently standing in your eye-line is not the statement you’d expected. Corroded Coffin was playing a bar in Indianapolis tonight — their second gig there that actually accumulated a decent crowd. And Eddie had been right all along — a bigger, more Metropolitan city opened doorways to the metal scene, something a hick town in Indiana never could. He wanted to really fix up, make himself look as intense as possible. He’d been gone with Robin since early in the afternoon, only telling you he was getting his hair permed for the show and his nails painted.

It wasn’t unusual for him to get a manicure with Robin, the ladies in the salon used to Eddie and his eccentric fashions. Everyone heard about the metal scene, the punk fashion, but in Hawkins it wasn’t welcomed, especially after Eddie would leave the parlor and receive several stray insults from one hillbilly to the next. He didn’t mind it though, he got to wave his freshly done nails with a doubled down bird. His favorite wave.

You liked that he had formed a quick companionship with Robin, solidifying his place in the group (and your heart) not long after everything with Vecna.

You’re so completely lost in your thoughts, eyes glazed over with the haze of fascination and want, that you aren’t aware Eddie is stepping closer until you can smell his Old Spice and see what he meant in regards to stamping a statement on your conscious (and unconscious mind).

“Holy fuck…”

That stubble bitten mouth pulls away to reveal a milky white smirk. His chocolate eyes, dusted with a blood red layer of shadow, long lashes elongated by a mascara wand, and a charcoal wing swiping out carefully, sharply — widen comically, enhanced impossibly wider. A silver sword dangles from his ear — you note. He’d apparently remembered he’d had it pierced and decided to indulge. His fresh perm is soft and silky looking, the product still settled into the locks.

You gulp onto a dry choke, his outfit what really makes your knees jello, a throb automatically smacking you in between your legs.

“Yeah?” You hear the slight crunch of leather as he backs up to give you a twirl, his ass well rounded in the acid wash denim, his chain swaying, wallet resting against a cheek beneath the denim pocket. He blinks those lashes and winks at you, making you physically clench your legs together. “You like it sweetheart? S’ a lot, I know.”

His inky colored nails, his signature chunky rings clad on those deliciously sinful fingers, they slip along the tightened corset that’s wrapped around his slender waist, stopping short below his nipples to help showcase the cut off crop of mesh that dangles around his neckline, covering what the corset doesn’t. His tattoos veiled, but visible, as if they’re entities peeking out to play. His combat boots that are still smeared with his own blood from the Upside Down are laced over his feet. You stumble all around your words, tongue lolling, mouth pooling with saliva. Eddie filters a fingertip beneath your chin, leaning down beneath the glow of his bedroom lamplight. “It’s a hit then?”

The words leave your mouth before you can stop them. Eddie Munson has that effect on you. “How long did your makeup take you? You can do it again before tonight, right?”

His enriching brows frown, a silly grin pressing the lines of his mouth. “Could do it all in the car. Everything but the wings.” He wiggles his defined digits to lay emphasis for his question. “Why, baby? What’s goin’ on in this head of yours? You’re running a little bit on empty tonight, huh?”

“So it’s not a big deal?”

“It’s not a big deal if what?” He waves his hand as if he’s taking a bow, awaiting your answer.

However, he doesn’t need any confirmation, your desperation, accelerated breathing, and tightening of your thigh muscles give you away. Not to mention your blown to hell pupils. He still wants to tease you a little, dangle you. You’re his best audience member, and he wants to spin you on his finger and work you to the bone until you’re begging and panting for him to hurt you a little harder. You lean into his touch — a natural instinct that runs deeper than breathing.

His cigarette stained breath is speckled with hints of cinnamon gum, his plush lips barely caressing yours, pulling them open and hovering a top his as he speaks with a fucked out rasp. He’s just as gone. His hands reach between you two and he finds your clasped hands (you didn’t realize you’d done that, nails having left marks behind in your palms), placing them onto his simple belt buckle. “What should I do with my little groupie, hmm? Make her suck me off, leave her wet all night?”

You mewl at that, suddenly finding speech capabilities. “No!”

“Or… maybe my sweetheart needs me to unzip my jeans and bend her over the dresser so I can claim that nice little pussy. Want it to sting every time you move at the bar, baby? No one will hear it when you whimper because of me.”

He’s already swelling against your palm, helping you undo his belt to release some tension and gain a bit of friction. His fingers cup your neck’s nape, draping down your back like a winding vine, tapping an invisible beat only he knows. You’re arching into him, your flimsy sweats and t-shirt too heavy and too hot. You aren’t even ready for the event tonight, but it’s a good thing. And as Eddie knees you into his bed until you’re falling back onto the mattress — you’re downright fucking grateful.

He’s your rockstar and you’re his instrument, and dammit to hell if he can’t play you to make you sing for him. The mesh is tickling the backs of your thighs, his pick chain dragging with his heaving breaths, your hands finding purchase in it to grip on every inhale. His lids are closed, a caressing explosion of red and black smudged together. His cheeks are soaked in red, mouth plump and swollen, your creamy cum soaking his chin, glistening when he’s turning his head to shimmy in a particular deep lick. His hands are squishing the doughy flesh that surrounds his head, your thighs spread wide, his curls tickling.

“Eds… oh, baby. So good with your fucking mouth.” You’re trying not to rock, to ruin his makeup completely beyond repair, but the man is just as insatiable, and you did ask for this.

His nose nudges your clit and he inhales like a fucking wild animal, nuzzling the tuft of slick curls scattered across your cunt. He could have the devil’s eyes — hell, with his caramel irises shattered to a thin ring, alike to your unraveling sanity, his pupils make him look like a beast, called upon by your heat. He blinks those wet lashes and you see his fingers travel up your cunt, spreading your labia, smearing what wetness he gathers from that — across your sternum and over your breasts, leaving a heavy handed smack to each one. His deep voice latches onto that cove that keeps you connected during this time, being so far outer limits. You already are prepared for him to motion with a hand on your neck, turning your gaze to yourself perched on his face, staring back at you from the stand alone mirror he’d gotten.

The perfect view. He’d dubbed it.

It’s a sight too erotic for you to contain the wanton cry that slithers off your scorched tongue. Your legs thump under a sporadic heat, and Eddie wiggles his fingers against your collar bone, breaking away with a string of your arousal connected to his mouth. He suckles it with an appreciative moan. “See yourself sitting on your throne, baby? This was what you wanted, what you needed, right?”

“Eddie, love you so much. I can’t —“

His fingers dip into the motions with his tongue, circling your opening before they dip inside, being sucked in with wet welcome. Your eyes close, then open with every harsh squelch that echoes in the small room. There’s a familiar twist that’s attacking your navel and you’re aware exactly what it is. You start to shake your head and rise off the stimulation. “Eds… too much, m’ gonna — and your outfit…”

He’s like a giddy boy at Christmas, a Cheshire smirk causing him to pull his ruined face from your cunt, pressing a few kisses to your thigh.

“You’re gonna…? Piss on me or squirt? Can’t say I’d mind either way.” You tighten around his fingers and bounce yourself onto the thick digits, that spongy spot ignited by the stimulation.

“I’ll ruin your shirt, maybe your pants, baby—“

God help you when you look at his loving gaze staring directly back at you. His makeup is absolutely demolished, perspiration and your essence smearing it around his cheeks. He’s shining with you, sampling your taste off his mouth. His chest is heaving wildly, breaths choppy. You can practically swallow his fucking words.

“No one’s gonna know that it’s not sweat, sweetheart. I’ll be wearing you all night.”

And he curls those gifted treasures, coaxing you forward, his tongue licking where his fingers meet, all the way to your clit, before he closes his lips around it. You come undone, that firestorm urge seizing your insides and beckoning you into oblivion. You shout his name so loudly that you’re sure everyone can hear. He presses you into him with a hard jostle, and your translucent cream spills from you, drenching your boyfriend, your thighs trembling, hands fisting into his hair. He helps you ride it through, moaning lowly as the spray floods his face, his own hips arching off the bed.

You’re still trembling when his fingers slide out of you, cum following them, stringing to Eddie’s fingers in a shimmery web, and he greedily laps you up once more, tugging you beside him with a softness that only he is capable of, rubbing your back to help calm you. You help him clean his face with your discarded shirt, his hand finding your breast and stroking absentmindedly along your nipple as if it were a chord he was playing. You sigh happily, looking at him. You’re so in love it’s disgusting.

“You’re a mess, Munson.” You find yourself giggling.

He shrugs. “Nectar of the gods, baby. Nectar of my goddess. A goddess who is gonna have to help me redo all this.” He motions to his face and you nod.

“I am your most devoted groupie, Eddie Munson.”

~*~

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lesinquietes · 5 months ago

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maybe i'm blind and stupid and clueless and ignorant to it, but i feel like i never see people give izaya access to saika in any fics 😭 like they sleepin on the potential fr

OMG STOP—

He somehow gets his hands on saika and tries to cut darling with it. That said, I feel like for this to happen, he’d have to find some way to dominate Saika’s influence because Izaya isn’t the type to bend to others…

But fuck logic let’s imagine it

You immediately know something’s up when the information broker rings your buzzer at midnight. You haven’t spoken to him since he confessed his feelings for you. He was certain you’d feel the same way. You didn’t — you don’t. You could tell he was shocked by your rejection, though he tried to play it off. The split second wherein his guard dropped, and you could see the scowl etched across his handsome face, was enough to validate your weariness.

You peer through the glass hole. What does he have in his hands…? Is that… a bouquet? You suppose he didn’t hear you the first time, or perhaps he’s simply stubborn.

Cautiously, you unlock the door. You’re careful to keep the chain latched, so that he can’t force his way inside. He leers at you through the small crack, wearing a peculiar smile.

“Ah, there you are.” He purrs, voice like velvet. “Are you really going to leave me out here in the cold?”

“You have more than enough money to buy the best winter jackets.” You scoff. “Don’t give me that shit.”

“Aw, hey~ don’t be like that, (f/n),” he whines. “I can buy you nice things too, y’know… if you were my woman.”

His tone deepens when he utter the last bit. It causes your heart to drop. There’s no doubt that he’s attractive, but you know a relationship with him would be unhealthy. Besides, you’d hate to ruin your budding friendship with Shizuo.

“Enough.” You sigh, shaking your head. “I’m going to bed.”

“Wait!” He vies. “At least take your flowers.”

You hesitate. They sure looked nice. But you know it’s probably a trap. Although he isn’t known to use brute force against anyone, save for his worst enemies, you’ve noticed his fascination with you transcends his typical behaviour. You don’t trust his intentions.

“You can leave them on my doorstep, if you like.” You suggest. “Goodnight.”

You move to latch the door. He doesn’t let you. Through the bouquet, a sword zips forward. It nearly stabs you in the chest. You throw yourself backwards and scramble into your apartment. You watch in horror as the blade slices your chain and the black-haired menace welcomes himself into your home. He gazes around mindfully, inspecting your decor and the small space you’ve selected for yourself.

“Wow, you’re really living paycheck to paycheck, huh?”

His comment strikes a nerve. You’re saving up to get something better. Not a day goes by where you don’t work your ass off for a brighter future. Does he think you like working at a convenience store every day?

“What are you doing?!” You cry. “Get out!”

You back up further when he advances. Neither of you stop until your back hits a wall. You whimper when you realize there’s nowhere left to flee. So much for you telling him to do anything.

“Y’know, you’ve been pretty mean to me since you moved to Ikebukuro.” He teases with a playful wink. “Are you the type to bully your crushes?”

“No!” You shout defensively. “I don’t have a crush on you!”

“Oh no~?”

His tone is dangerous. He shifts the sword so that the tip rests beneath your chin. Gently, he uses it to tilt your head up. Your expression is adorable. He needs to scare you more often.

“Y’know, other men would take what they want and kill you.”

He dips Saika down to your top. It’s a tank. He taps the sharp edge over one of your straps. The thin fabric snaps easily. Panic zips through you.

“Izaya, please,” you beg. “Don’t do this.”

“Ah, me?” He feigns hurt. “I’m not doing anything. It’s this sword, here.”

He retracts Saika. You can feel something is different about the blade. It’s humming ever so gently, coaxing you, vying for you to touch it. Leave it to the informant to get his hands on a demonic weapon, of all things.

“It wants exactly what I want.” He gazes at your reflection in the shiny metal. “Your love~”

He hooks the sword back under your chin. You hold your breath. If you move an inch, it could slice you. He holds your gaze as he scopes your figure m, taking his time eyeing his prize. He’s never been ashamed of the desire he has for you; even Gods have needs.

“Do you want to be mine?”

You swear his irises flicker red for a second. He’s insane, but maybe you can deceive him long enough to get away. He’s got liquid fast reflexes, and you’ve seen him go head-to-head with Shizuo; nonetheless, you have an advantage the blonde hulk doesn’t — Izaya likes you. A powerful man like him has gotten wrapped in the throes of lust. Love throws logic out the window.

You have a chance.

“Y-yes!” You lie. “I-I think… I-I think just n-needed to come around.”

“Oh?” He raises a thin black brow. “You do?”

Izaya knows you don’t. You would have jumped at the opportunity earlier if you were truly devoted to him. He’s fascinated that you would lie to him at a time like this. He didn’t peg you for the type to use deception as a bargaining chip.

He wants to see how this tango progresses.

“That’s a fast change of mind.” He remarks slyly. “Why don’t you walk me through how you came around.” He offers you a playful wink. “Just so I know I can trust you.”

You have to spin a fresh lie on your feet. Noticeably, you scramble.

“Um… well… it’s… been hard in this city.” You start. “And uh… I’ve been thinking about your proposition from last week.”

“You mean when I asked you to dinner at Russia Sushi?” He simpers fondly. “An innocent offer that you shut down.”

“I did!” You confess, inhaling deeply. “A-and I’m sorry… I-I think… that would be nice.”

You’d rather die than be seen in public with him at this point. He’s broken into your home and assaulted you with a weapon. He’s threatening to harm you if you don’t conform to his twisted game of boyfriend-and-girlfriend. If you get out of this alive, you’re going to make sure everyone knows what he did to you this evening. Simon can give him more than a plate of raw fish the next time he visits.

“That’s great news!” He sings, outwardly overjoyed by your admittance. “I knew you’d come around.”

He removed the blade from your neck. You’re permitted to climb to your feet. He opens his arms for a hug. You have to keep up with appearances, don’t you? If you race away too soon, he’ll grab you. It’s best to continue lowering his défenses until you have a break.

Hesitantly, you enter his embrace. He embraces you gingerly. His cologne smells smooth and expensive. Everything about him exudes money and privilege. Briefly, you wonder what it would be like to have that sort of lifestyle.

Unfortunately, you’ll discover the answer to your fantasy in due time.

Izaya sighs. There’s a sorrow to it that causes you to pause. You freeze in his grasp. By the time you consider moving, it’s far too late.

“I’m not stupid, darling~”

He jabs the tip of Saika into the back of your neck. It’s a shallow wound, but effects are immediate. You perk up at the unfamiliar sensation of control leaving your body. Out of nowhere, your mind goes practically blank, and all thoughts centre around… him?

Oh.

Yes, him. Him. Izaya. The love of your life. Your savoir. Holder of Saika. Your everything.

Your irises turn a shade of crimson. Instinctively, you wrap your arms around his neck and press your body close to him. The fur from his jacket tickles you while you focus on nuzzling into his warmth. There’s a comfort to him that wasn’t there before; you can’t seem to get enough.

“Oh, my love,” you whisper, starstruck. “I was so lonely until you came along.”

He wraps a lithe arm around your waist. Unlike prior, he can tell you’re serious. Saika has you possessed, and that means you’re incapable of feeling any other way, so long as he holds this power.

“I know, sweetheart.” He purrs, pressing a chaste kiss to your head. “You’re such an impressionable little thing in this big bad city. You need someone to protect you, right?”

You nod.

“A boyfriend?”

You nod.

“A lover?”

You nod.

“A Master.”

For a fourth time, you bob your head, agreeing to any statement that comes from his mouth. It doesn’t matter. Nothing but him matters. You don’t remember what you were so worried about before. Work, saving up for school, your family, your friends — none of those things are important to you.

Izaya Orihara is your world.

He guides you to the front door of your apartment. Someone will find this mess tomorrow. He’ll get one of his contacts in the force to clean it up and concoct a story about how he saves you from a drugged-out maniac hunting for shelter. Ikebukuro is dangerous these days. You moved in with him because there’s no one better to offer you safety in this part of Japan.

#minors dni #sorry this took so long you just shot me up with creativity there #drrr x reader #durarara x reader #izaya orihara #izaya x reader #yandere izaya orihara #yandere izaya #yandere izaya x reader

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desires-of-chain · 1 year ago

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I wish there was a way to submit anonymously I don't want people to know that I'm horny on main😭😭😭

So I'm gonna leave this here for you ;)

AFAB!reader

=========================

"Hey, Darlin can I ask ya a favor"the hero of twilight greeted, sauntering up to you

"Sure twi, I'd do anything for you. " you replied with a smile towards the man.

Secretly, He wonders if that anything would entail you letting him rutt into you on all fours, in a way that would appear his inner beast.

Or filling you so full of his own seed, that you would have no choice but to carry his own pup.

He takes a second to compose himself, hoping that you didn't catch his incriminating blush.

"Would you come with me into town, I could use the company." he answered.

"Sure, I'd love too." she agreed.

On the way into town he lagged behind a little bit he's reasoning is so he could keep a better eye on you, however the real reason is he hopes you don't see the slight bulge in his trousers as the pair of you make your way to the nearby town.

======================

"Please four can I help you while you work?" you pleaded, with the softest of eyes looking straight at him.

You loved to help the group with any and all tasks, on account of you not having any combat experience so you loved to help in any other ways possible.

You could help him by letting him shove his face in your breasts?

Or, Maybe you could....

"Hey, four come on I'm dying for something to do around here" you begged.

"Um ye-yeah sure could you please get me wilds sword?" he stuttered still reeling from the suggestive thought.

"You got it boss." you replied with a wink towards the shorter hero.

The smithy thinks to himself while you retrieve the sword for him if you would be ok with having a foursome with the colors?

===============================

"Thank you rulie, let me know if there's anything I could do to repay you for all your hard work, ok?" you, spoke sweetly too him.

You gave hyrule a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Thank you for healing your injuries after a small ambush.

But.... he can't help but wonder if instead of a small hug you could ride him, until he's a blushing stuttering mess, feeling every inch of you while, coming undone underneath you.

The half fae shook his head a little bit to get the dirty thought out of his head.

"You don't need to repay me just having you here, is enough." Hyrule responded bashfully.

He tries to remove the thought from his head he would never want you to be uncomfortable around him, but the thought still lingered

And he hoped his blush around you wasn't too noticable.

===============================

When you said that you would do anything for them you truly meant it.

If time wanted you to suck his dick you would do it without hesitation

If legend wanted a titjob your breasts were out no questions asked

If the chain wanted to pass you around like a cheap whore to do whatever they wanted with you.

You would let them help themselves to you in any way they wanted.

That thought alone made you pretty aroused on the spot, however knowing that they were heroes and gentlemen, they would never dream of degrading you in such a way.

But, you wanted them to.

===============================

Again sorry for not submitting but I don't want to let people know that I write smut.

But I hope you like it 😉

wheeeewwwww

The wonder of who will bite the bullet first? Reader or one of the links? 👀 If reader does so first, the Links are going to be in for a wild ride, honestly.

#.bea answers #smut #anon ask #cw: breeding

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janksfatass · 2 years ago

Text

Strange Tides

Smut 18+

Summary: Reader finds herself on a pirate ship that belongs to a surprisingly seductive man.

Word count: 2300

Warnings under the cut

Warnings: brief mention of almost SA, penetrative s3x, oral!f rec, dacryphilia, choking with a belt, bdsm-ish, blood k!nk

———————————————————————————

You wake to the sound of footsteps above you. You slowly open your eyes and scrunch your nose at the damp musky scent invading your nostrils. You look around at your surroundings. An array of embellished chests, artillery, and crates line each wooden wall.

Where the fuck am I?

Your right ankle is chained to a post 5 feet from the cot you lay on.

You begin to panic, trying to figure out a way to free yourself when you hear the door at the top of the steps creak open. Next, a pair of boots begin clambering down them. A handsome, albeit disheveled, man appears before you. He doesn’t seem to be much older than you, with a tray of food and a mug in hand.

“Good morning darling! How did we sleep last night aboard the Circe?”

“The what? Who the fuck are you? Where am I?”

“Oh, I see you’re feisty when you wake up. Well my love, I am Captain Jake Kiszka. And you are on my ship, the Circe. S’your lucky day if you ask me.”

You scoff at him acting like you’re sitting in a castle on a hill somewhere. “Lucky? I’m chained to a post on a musty old pirate ship!”

“Oh angel, you wound me. I take pride in my women and that includes my ship. I say you’re lucky because if not for me, you’d probably be swimming with the fishes about now.”

What?

You try to wrack your brain to figure out what on Earth he’s talking about, and then it hits you. The last thing you remember was being at a crowded tavern.

“What happened last night?”

“Me and my men were at the Black Cauldron and saw you trying to fight off an ugly brute that was attempting to drag you into an alleyway. So we took it upon ourselves to beat him to a bloody pulp and took you with us.”

“Why am I chained up?”

“Well, you were a bit tiddly and tried to fight us off as well. I thought it best to keep you restrained until you settled down some.”

He sets the tray and the mug down in front of you. “Try to eat some, love. You’ll need your energy.” He shoots you a wink and heads back up to the deck.

“Aren’t you going to unchain me?”

He stops about halfway up and leans his head down, “I’m a busy man. I’ve some things to take care of right now but I’ll be back later. Don’t go anywhere.” He laughs and you hear the door shut behind him.

Over the next few hours you pick at your food but finish your drink. Thoughts of the Captain flood your mind. He was devastatingly handsome. Long brown tousled tresses, mustache and goatee adorning his face. And he has a beautiful pearly white smile you don’t think you’ve ever seen on a pirate before. You try to shake the image of him from your head, thinking back to what he said about the guy at the tavern and a shiver jolts down your spine. Maybe this was better than the alternative. In a way, he saved your life. You decide to try to nap since you’ve nothing better to do while waiting on Captain Jake to free you from your confines. You lay down and doze off almost immediately.

“Such a dirty girl. Look at the mess you made in these little panties. Is that all for me?”

He slides your underwear down your legs and you step out of them as he pulls them up to his face.

“Jake…” you sigh out, desperate for his touch.

“Fucking delectable. Now open up for daddy. Be a good girl.”

You open your mouth and he shoves your panties inside.

“We don’t need the crew hearing all the sweet little noises I’m about to pull out of you.”

Your arms are chained up above your head, your heart beating a mile a minute.

He unsheathes the sword at his hip and brings it to your jawline.

You blink quickly, unsure of what he plans to do next.

“What’s a matter poppet? Cat got your tongue?”

A sly smirk spreads on his face then…

You urgently sit up, drenched in sweat and a familiar heat throbbing between your legs.

“Good dreams I’m assuming?”

You jump and see none other than the Captain leaned up against the wall at the bottom of the stairs.

“Fuck! You scared the life out of me!”

“I don’t think that’s fear that you’re feeling, darling. Did you know you talk in your sleep?”

You feel the crimson wash over your face and bite down hard on your lower lip. He walks over to you and kneels down beside the cot, motioning for you to put your foot on his knee. You lift it up but not without noticing him shift his eyes underneath your nightgown.

“Well? Are you going to let me go or just stare at me like I’m some piece of meat.”

Your heart pounds in your chest as his eyes meet yours and the formerly honey brown orbs have shifted into obsidian. He pulls the key from his pocket and unlocks your ankle. In a split second he scoops you up, wrapping your legs around his waist, and heads across the room to the chains from your dream that were dangling from the ceiling.

“On second thought, I quite like the idea of seeing you like a piece of meat. You’re going to learn and learn quickly to respect your Captain.”

He secures your arms above your head and you drop your legs from his waist.

“What the fuck?! Let me GO!!!”

“I can read you like a book, baby. You can drop the act. I could see how wet you were for me. What were you dreaming about? My head between those delicious thighs? My cock inside you hitting spots you didn’t know existed? You like it rough, don’t you?” He smirks.

“Fuck you!”

“Oh, I plan on it.”

He slides his hand up under your gown and into your panties. “Filthy girl. You’re soaked. Nothing but a whore for me.”

You stay silent with baited breath, waiting to see what he does next.

“If you truly want me to stop, just say the word and I will. Do you understand me?”

You nod.

He steps closer to you and leans into your ear, “I said, do you understand me?”

“Yes! Yes I understand!” You pant heavily, your body craving his touch.

“Good.”

Jake licks along your jawline, then kisses down your neck and chest, biting and sucking. Marking his path. He tugs harshly at your nightgown.

“This is going to have to go. I need to see those gorgeous tits.”

Just like in your dream, he unsheathes his sword but instead of bringing it to your jawline, he makes a cut in the center of your neckline then roughly rips the fabric the rest of the way off you. Your chest now completely bare to him as he eyes your figure. His eyes blown completely with lust, he runs his tongue along his lower lip. His chest heaving in and out.

He almost frightens you in a way. Looking like a starved feral animal that finally captured its prey.

Jake loops his thumbs into your panties and yanks them off of you, tossing them to the side. Your arousal beginning to drip down your thighs.

He steps back and brings the tip of his sword to your left nipple, gently tracing around it before doing the same to the other. He trails it down your stomach and around your navel slowly and deliberately. He skips your mound and continues his path down your thigh. You jerk slightly from the feeling, causing the blade to slice your inner thigh. You hiss as blood begins to trickle down.

“You’ve got to be still darling. I don’t want to mark up this beautiful body too much.”

He drops to his knees in front of you and cradles your thigh in his hands. Using his thumb to pull the skin taut. He then licks over the wound, sucking gently, lapping up both your blood and the wetness that coated your skin. He traces his tongue upwards to your slit and spreads your lips apart with his fingers. You suck in a deep breath as swipes his warm tongue from your entrance to your clit and starts making little circles around it. Your breathing picks up and you can feel his lips curl into a smile before he wraps them around your bud, sucking it harshly into his mouth. Your knees buckle and suddenly you’re very thankful for the chains holding you up. He slides one finger inside of you, pumping it in and out at a steady pace. A moment later he adds a second, continuing the motions. When he adds a third, a loud passionate moan escapes your lips at the delicious stretch. He curls his fingers upward quickly while continuing the assault on your clit. Licking and sucking and flicking, you feel the warmth starting to envelop your body.

“Fuck! Jake! I’m going to cum!”

He delivers a harsh slap to your ass. “Who am I?”

“Fuck! Captain! Please please please let me cum!” You wail out.

He places his mouth back on you, still pumping his fingers in and out, hitting that perfect spot inside you.

“Fuckfuckfuck!” Your vision blurs as you cum on his face. He doesn’t slow his movements.

“Fuck, you taste so sweet. Give me another, Angel.”

You’re panting heavily. “I can’t, I can’t I ca-…”

He sucks your clit harder into his mouth and your hips buck against his face. He places your legs over his shoulders to try to keep you still and you squeeze his head with your thighs and scream as you’re quickly thrown into your second orgasm.

Finally, he starts licking over you slowly, babying your clit with kisses then moving up your stomach and chest until he reaches your lips. He parts them with his tongue and you graciously let him in, the taste of yourself invading your mouth. Salty and sweet. He reaches down to undo his belt and slips it from the loops. He wraps it around your neck. Then quickly sheds the rest of his clothing. When he pulls down his pants, your jaw drops at his cock slapping up against his stomach. It was much larger than you were expecting, considering his small stature.

He laughs at your reaction. “Don’t worry doll, I’ll make it fit.”

He hikes one of your legs around him and slides his cock through your folds, grazing your sensitive clit with each thrust.

“Are you ready for me?”

“Yes, Captain.”

You squeeze your eyes shut as he pushes all the way inside you, bottoming out against your cervix.

“Fucking hell, so fucking tight. This pussy is mine. YOU are MINE!” He growls and starts pummeling into you. You’ve never been stretched this much before. It feels unnatural but also phenomenal to be this full. He pulls on the belt, tightening it around your throat and he roughly grabs one of your tits, squeezing it hard as he thrusts in and out of you. The head of his cock hitting your g spot each time.

“Cum for me again, darling. I can feel it. Let me have it. Give it to me. Please fucking give it to me.”

Your eyes roll back in your head and you scream out as you feel a gush of liquid come out of you, soaking his stomach and cock before splashing onto the floor beneath you.

“Fuck, I’m so close.”

Tears begin streaming down your face as Jake continues his brutal pace. He licks the salty streams from your cheeks then lets go of the belt and pulls your other leg around him and firmly grips your hips. He leans in to kiss you feverishly and hips begin to stutter. He drives himself even deeper than you thought possible. His cock pulsates against your cervix as he floods you with his release.

He stays inside you for a moment as he pulls away from the kiss to look into your eyes. You’re breathing heavily, coming down from what very well may have been the best sex of your life. No, it definitely was the best.

He drops your legs and unlocks the clasp around your wrists.

“I’ll be right back. I have some fresh clothes for you in my cabin.”

A few moments later he returns with clothes in hand and a wet rag. He places a white blouse and black skirt on the cot and hands you the rag. You clean yourself up and get dressed.

“So what are your plans for me? Am I just supposed to make myself at home and prepare for a life on the sea?” You ask him as you pull up your skirt.

“That’s entirely up to you, darling. I’d love nothing more than to have you as my co captain but if you’d like us to drop you off some place, we can do that as well. You think on it and let me know what you want to do.”

“Well I’m certainly not going to stay if I have to sleep in these filthy quarters.”

“Follow me. Let me show you where you’d be staying.”

He takes your hand and leads you up the steps. Once you reach the deck, a roar of whistles and cheering assaults your eardrums.

“Settle down gentlemen!” Jake shouts boisterously to the crewmen. “Ignore them. Animals, the lot of them.”

He opens the door to his cabin and inside is a large bed with dressers on either side and a vanity in the corner with a mirror attached to it.

“Not too shabby. I could maybe get used to this.” You say as you look around.

He grins from ear to ear and pulls you close to him.

“I thought you might say that.”

#greta van fleet #jake kiszka #gvf #jake gvf #jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka smut #jake kiszka imagine

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dhorrl · 1 year ago

Text

Initiation

MDNI 18+

Feitan/Original Character (I gave her a name after I decided to put descriptors)

Trigger Warnings:

BDSM

Knife/sword play

Blood play

Mentions of rape/pedophilia/torture (OC has a rough history)

Spoiler for the manga (death of a character)

AFAB/She/Her pronouns

Maybe others to be honest I tried to think of things that might bother people, but this is Feitan, you know what you’re getting yourself into.

I do have this as a sort of chaptered story saved somewhere, but I don’t know if anyone actually wants that or if they just want the smut.

Things had quieted down for the Phantom Troupe. Hisoka was still hunting them, but they had strength in numbers. Everyone rotated, staying with the boss, constantly two or three at a time, and always staying with someone else in the Troupe when not with Chrollo. They used this time to search out and find new recruits, ones with Nen abilities that would fill the gaps in their ranks, much to Feitan's dismay. He was still bitter about losing Shalnark, though he never let it show.

It seemed that, for now, Hisoka was laying low, although it was never a good idea to let your guard down with the sadistic magician. While he knew he was strong, even Hisoka was aware that he couldn’t take down the entire Troupe at the same time. Besides, his plan was to kill them all, one by one, to re-fight Chrollo on fair ground. His bitter desire for revenge fueled his patience. He also made it a point to kill anyone worthy of joining the Troupe, doing his best to prevent them from re-building.

Many of the new potential members that did make it through were vetted by Feitan. Chrollo wanted to ensure that anyone they added going forward could withstand endless torment since Hisoka was known to be vindictive. Who better to test them out than Feitan? The boss didn't realize Feitan used this trial to unleash his frustrations. Many were not leaving alive or in one piece.

"Feitan, I know I said to torture them, but perhaps leave one alive," Chrollo remarked calmly. Feitan replied, looking away from Chrollo, "They were not worthy. I only pushed to make sure they could endure it."

Still, he would attempt to present the boss with a new member soon. Phinks mentioned he had located someone with abilities that might throw Feitan for a loop, though he shrugged it off. He was starting to feel bored. The people making it through to him were not even close to being worth his time, and he had suspected for a while that Hisoka was behind it all.

Phinks ushered the latest prospect into Feitan's chamber within their warehouse on the outskirts of Meteor City. He was not predicting what he saw. This slim, petite woman, even shorter than he, stood in a black skirt, tank top, and combat boots. Her jet-black hair was back in a simple braid. Her simple attire stood to accentuate the sharpness of her jaw, the softness of her eyes, but those things were not what grabbed Feitan's attention. His gaze went to her arms and legs, entirely covered with scars. Anyone who received that sort of treatment from him would be dead. Yet, she glanced casually at the instruments around the room and the dried blood stuck to the floors and the wall.

“Hey, Feitan, this is Jun.” Phinks said. "Jun here is gonna be our new member, I'm sure of it."

Feitan snapped. "I'll decide that, Phinks. Did you give her the password?"

Phinks smirked. The interrogation strategy went as such; another member would give the nominee a word or phrase, and Feitan's assignment was to extract that information by any means possible. "Oh yeah, she's got it already. I won't give anything away, but she's gonna be a tough nut to crack. Good luck, Feitan." Phinks winked at Jun in his feeble attempt at flirting.

Jun rolled her eyes, annoyed. "Well, come on, let's see what you got." She beckoned Feitan towards her as she stepped to the center of the room. She almost seemed bored, as if she was testing Feitan as much as he was testing her. "So, Feitan, is it? Chains or no chains?" She gestured towards the ties around the wooden chair where he secured his marks.

Feitan's eyes tightened. He despised feeling like he was being told how to do his job. "Definitely chains," he said as he tied her to the seat. There was no resistance from her; she was almost helping as she moved her arms around into a perfect position for tying.

"Do your worst; I give you permission to do anything you like." Jun shot a look at Feitan. "Although I doubt you'll cross any of my lines. Punch me, kick me, stab me, burn me; it's all the same." She leaned against the chair with a heavy sigh.

Feitan felt suspicious; he was confident in his abilities to break anyone, but this person put him on edge. At the same time, however, he felt strangely aroused. She was beautiful, the mess of scars on her flesh only making her more so in his eyes.

He shook it off, reached for a blindfold, and covered and secured her eyes, preferring to give her no sign of what might be coming next. He closed his own eyes, reminding himself again to try and keep her alive. If she was worthy of the Phantom Troupe, then breaking too many bones or removing body parts wasn’t on the table. Still, dislocating a few joints was a different story, as well as deep cuts and wounds that Machi could fix up. Hell, if he did cut off her arm, Machi could just sew it back on. However, Machi was away on another job and wouldn’t be back for a while. He imagined the cut off parts would still need to be fairly fresh for reattachment.

Once he felt he had a good plan that didn’t involve tearing her from limb to limb, he balled up his fist, and punched her forcefully in the stomach. A direct hit like that alone would take down many a strong man, and that’s without using Nen. Jun gagged for a moment, the wind knocked out of her. Blood splattered from her throat. He smiled, watching as the warm, red liquid began dripping from the corner of her mouth. He thought to himself, “This won’t take long at all.” But then, he heard her laugh.

"That's the best you got?" she murmured through strained breaths. Feitan was enraged. He restrained himself from punching a hole through her chest cavity. He reached behind her, grabbing at her index finger and pulling it in a perfect jab, dislocating it from the joint. She yelped slightly, but then continued laughing. Next was the pinky finger, popping from the joint with a satisfying snap, then pressing down to increase the pain.

Jun knew she could take more because she already had. She thought back to her childhood. Ever since she was little, her father and his friends gathered and did evil, wretched things to her. Her mother looked the other way when Jun would come home with her father covered in bandages and bruises. But Jun was strong, strong enough to stay alive. Until one day, her screams and cries no longer satiated their desires. Jun was too old for them now. The day her father took her sister out of the house and came back alone was the day Jun lost herself. Her rage towards her father, mother, and the men who hurt her and her sister was too much. She swore to kill every last one of them... and she had.

Jun was a stubborn target, but Feitan had his share of those before and still managed to crumble their will. The difference, however, is he could always use threats of death, where here he was really having to restrain himself. Feitan continued, hitting her across the face, narrowly resisting from breaking her jaw. Again across the right side near her eye, then again on the left. Once he was satisfied with where he was, he snarled. "Tell me the password."

Jun was quiet, and he thought he was getting close to breaking her. Then the silence was broken by a maniacal laugh through heavy coughs. "Come on, little man, you barely got started."

Feitan grit his teeth. Jun was mocking him? "You talk shit, I see." His patience was usually so strong, but she was pushing his buttons. He grasped the small double-edged tanto from his pocket and impaled her in the abdomen. Jun let out a moan that echoed through the chamber, causing Feitan to take a step back. He'd heard many sorts of cries from his victims, but that was unexpected. "Oh, did I not mention? The more you hurt me, the more it turns me on." Her tongue darted out, licking her lips sensually.

Jun's laugh was full of her own insanity. To Feitan, the unhinged sound rang like music to his ears. He bore the knife into her throat. He had an idea that would probably end him, but he was losing control. "I'm going to make you tell me the password. But first, I'm going to have some fun." He drug the knife across her throat, not entirely through but just enough to make her bleed. She bit her lip, enjoying the sensation of cold metal through her skin. He persisted, cutting off her shirt and skirt keeping him from the rest of her tender flesh. He couldn’t take his eyes off the scars that littered the rest of her body, her torso and hips and even her back. He found a few areas where the skin had yet to be touched, and ran the knife across, barely pressing down to just break the skin. Jun’s body bucked into the knife, enjoying the pain and aching flushing through her body. She hated herself for how fucked up this all ways, how she savored and craved this feeling. As for Feitan, he felt awakened in a way he'd never quite experienced.

He leaned over and licked the blood dripping down her neck onto her chest. Jun’s body shook with desire. She had not been anticipating that. It caused an involuntary groan as Feitan's tongue glided through the blood and sweat.

"Fuck, I thought you were supposed to be torturing me, Feitan." She was panting, feeling the heat rising between her legs. Jun couldn't help but tease him, poking to see how much more he would give her.

"There are many types of torture, you know," he whispered in her ear, his deep voice giving her goosebumps. "I happen to be an enthusiast of all types." He pushed the knife back into his pocket and removed the blindfold covering her face. Blood was dripping from Jun's nose, and deep purple bruises formed over her face. Her right eye was swollen shut. He had done his best not to break her jaw, but he did some severe damage. Her seductive gaze drew him in closer, then she spit blood into his face.

Feitan stood there motionless, then brushed the blood from his face. He took her throat in one hand, pressing down on her windpipe. "Next time you speak to me, you will tell me the password." With his other hand, he parted her legs and slid his fingers into her core, surprised but pleased to feel she was dripping wet. She moaned hoarsely through his hold on her throat. He continued working his fingers in while sliding his thumb over her clit. He wanted to soak his hand in her, savor her forbidden juices with his fingers.

Still grasping her throat, he lightly released enough for her to take a deep breath, then pressed back. She leaned back, trying to use the back of the seat as leverage to grind harder onto his hand. She was so close to release, just a little further…

Feitan withdrew both his hands. Jun took a deep gasp, and tears welled in her eyes. He examined his fingers, dripping with sticky fluids. His fingers glided through the blood dripping down her chest and slid into her mouth, mixing everything together. He grabbed her neck and shoved his own tongue in next, wanting to taste the salty, bloody mix of fluids. Once he pulled away, she eyed him for a moment. "Fuck you. I guess you're really playing hardball now."

Feitan flew back at her. Within seconds he adjusted her chains, forcing her to the ground on her knees and securing her hands to her feet behind her. He removed his black overcoat and undid the tie on his pants. "Fucking brat, I told you not to speak unless you tell me the password." He pulled down the front of his pants and pulled out his cock, hard and leaking.

Jun drooled, astounded at the girth of the man with such a small stature. Feitan snatched her by the hair and shoved himself down her throat, acting as the gag to keep her from speaking again till he let her. Jun’s eyes were ravenous as she looked up at Feitan, who she noticed was cruel and sadistic in the best ways. He was like her personal demonic angel, supplying the suffering she yearned for. Jun could sense that Feitan was in his element, and so was she. She was suffocated by him, exhilarated that he was violating her in such a way. His eyes rolled in the back of his head, picking up speed with animalistic want. Watching the tears run down her face, he felt like a god among men.

Feitan could feel himself getting close. His body was spasming, but he continued to mangle her throat, even through her gags and heaving and watched her take all his creamy nectar. He withdrew his cock, and she looked up into his eyes, tongue out to show the finished product painted inside her mouth. The sticky cum was melting down her face, then she tucked it in to swallow, licking the aftermath off her lips. Feitan's perverted mind was ecstatic. "So, ready to tell me?"

Jun's eyes were glazed with submission. "I'll tell you... if you please let me cum, too."

“You act like you have upper hand here. If you want to finish, “he grabbed her by the throat, “you will tell me password.”

Hot tears were forming at the edge of her eyes, feeling the heat between her legs pulsing and close but not able to give her the satisfaction she was craving. “If I tell you, and you let me finish,” she whimpered, “am I still going to be a Spider?”

Feitan's primal urges opened up. He knelt in the pool of blood surrounding her and untied her chains, releasing her arms from above. Then he laid back on the concrete floor, unbothered by the horrifying mess that had been created. Jun saw her opening and crawled on top of him, hovering over his still erect member. She glided along the shaft, soaking it in her wetness before slipping it inside. It felt amazing. All the sensations of touch, taste, and smell she was experiencing were explosive. Feitan used his thumb to circle around her sensitive nerves, and Jun couldn't take anymore. She screamed loud, the orgasmic pulses shooting through her body. She crumpled forward, laying her head on Feitan's forehead. "By the way, the password is "password." Totally worth it, though." Feitan lay there quietly momentarily, then an honest laugh escaped his lips. He sat up, entangling his hands in her hair, and placed a soft kiss on her lips. "I bandage you up. You bleed out."

Jun’s eyes sparkled. “Watch this.” She stood up, closed her eyes, and Feitan noticed the distinct glow of Hatsu around her. He tensed a moment, preparing for the worse, but relaxed when he saw the stab wound close as if it had never happened. Each open cut and scrape sealed. Once the last one disappeared, she released her focus and opened her eyes to see Feitan’s awed expression. He stood up and approached her, running his finger over the spot he had stabbed earlier. A faint, smooth scar was there. He noticed that all of the gashes he made were like that, like whispers on her velvety skin, but that others were raised and rough. He put together that those had to be before she developed her abilities. There were hundreds more scars like those.

He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close to whisper in her ear. "Spider now. Let's do again sometime."

#feitan #feitan smut #feitan x reader #hunter x hunter #hxh #phantom troupe

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arabellachant · 1 month ago

Text

hold me like a knife. iii.

aegon targaryen x lannister!oc. aemond targaryen x lannister!oc.

warnings: language, underage drinking, targcest, infidelity (from almost everyone), allusions to sex, religious guilt, mysoginy, pregnancy and childbirth, possible grammar mistakes (english is not my first language)

words: 2.2k

The first week in the Red Keep was bearable. Elora followed her father like a shadow. Excusing herself whenever she felt uncomfortable with the alibi of needing to attend to her brother. But those days were quickly over, and soon she was left in that place without the shield of her family.

Her conversations with Aemond were awkward. Helaena and the queen, although always polite, still felt foreign. The king was unreachable. She avoided Aegon with all her might. And for a couple of days, she managed to secure herself in her solitude, away from the piercing purple gaze of the dragons. The girl knew she would have to eventually get used to them, but the idea itself felt so far away. So when she was invited to accompany the Targaryen princes and their nephews, sons of their older half sister, to the training grounds she didn’t refuse, understanding that it was for the best if she tried to grow closer to them already.

The activity itself was not of her liking, finding sparring matches to be quite dull. To her, fighting and harming oneself and others for no reason seemed a dumb way to spend the time, her heart tightening each time someone took the blow of a wooden sword. It didn’t take long before she started to grow bored, scanning around her to find a distraction. A group of yellow dandelions are enough to make her smile, crouching near the flowers, picking them up one by one. Sitting on the ground, her hands begin to work, tying and knotting the stems together into a chain of yellow and green.

“Pretty flowers.” A voice comes from above her. The elder prince leaning against the fence of the training arena with a sly grin.

Elora rolls her eyes at him, returning her gaze to her work with a stern expression. “They are weeds, they shouldn’t be here.” She huffs, curling the chain of dandelions into a circle.

“Doesn’t make them any less beautiful.” He sounds almost sincere, a look of wonder in his eyes as he watches her fingers knot the flowers together. An idea blossoming in his chest. “Maybe we should compete to win the golden crown of this lady’s favour.” He yells to the people still in the arena, grabbing their attention. “What do you say, Ser Criston?” Aegon raises his eyebrows at the knight in charge of teaching them.

“If it motivates you, I don’t see why not.” Criston’s voice sounds sarcastic, something Elora would never expect from a soldier speaking to the prince he serves. The man slowly approaches the fence, reaching a hand for the girl who still sits confused on the floor. “If my lady agrees.”

Nodding sheepishly, she takes the knight’s hand and lets him take her into the arena, helping her go up a small balcony that oversees it. Elora clutches the ring of flowers in her hands when she looks down at the group of dirty boys. The silver haired brothers kept an intense gaze over her. One in boldness, one in worry. Ser Criston steps aside, urging the little soldiers to start their match. Brothers fighting brothers, wooden swords banging loudly against each other. She flinches and winces every time one of them gets struck, trying to calm herself with the knowledge that it was fake, they wouldn’t get hurt. After each session, the expression on their faces grows more tired, except for Aegon, the advantage of his age and size helping him triumph over the boys. A proud look igniting his eyes, the look of someone who knows they are winning. The last match being between him and Aemond.

Before they start, Aegon takes a last glance at the girl anxiously watching over them, a victorious smirk on his lips as he directs a teasing wink towards her. His younger brother keeps his gaze low, already tired from their fake competition, his mind seeming far more concentrated than his elder’s.

“Alright, play fair, the two of you.” The Ser’s voice is serious, almost like a reprimand. “Begin!” His strong command urges the brothers forward, each gripping tightly to their swords, shields discarded long ago. They charge, swinging and hitting and stabbing their opponent, trying to be the last one standing. The ferocity of the fight to real one could almost forget they are brothers. Elora’s nails dig deeply into her palms, a real nervousness to a fake combat.

It was obvious the younger was way more drained than his sibling, still he held his ground for a long time, longer then the lady had presumed. But it was to no use, as Aegon manages to sneak around his brother and drop him flat on the floor. The loud sound as he hits the ground echoing in her chest.

“And I emerge victorious.” Aegon raises his arms triumphantly, circling around the arena before stopping under the balcony where the young girl watched. “My lady.” He bows to her still in their act. The smirk plastered on his face only evidencing the bruise he earned to his cheek.

Standing close to the ledge, Elora furrows her brow when she looks at the young man in front of her. Her eyes swiftly drift to share a compassionate look at Aemond, before gently placing the flower crown on Aegon’s messy hair. Even in her annoyance, she couldn’t deny there was a certain glow to him as he bowed again. The pride, the afterglow of glory visible on his eyes. The yellow petals on top of his pale hair looking like the golden crown of a king. Their gaze remained fixed on each other, looking so deeply into one another’s eyes their souls feared becoming bare. The few seconds they spent immersed in each other’s mind felt like centuries, only being interrupted when Ser Criston drags the prince away, telling him he must prepare to go to the Dragon Pit. Aegon steps away with his nephews, his head still turned to watch her form grow smaller in his sight, the smile on his face for more than just his victory.

Reminding herself of where she was and what she should be doing, Elora returns her eyes to prince Aemond, who stayed behind with a sorrowful face as he watches the others leaving. “You fought well today.” Her voice is soothing, praising the boy as she comes down from the balcony to where he stands. A kind but shy smile plastered on her lips.

“I lost.” He responds automatically, walking away to organise the training weapons. A pale hue of scarlet filling his face with exhaustion and embarrassment.

“By very little.” She approaches him slowly, reassuring him of his doings. “Don’t torture yourself with it. Your brother had the advantage of age on his side.” She picks up one of the wooden swords from the ground, handing it so he could put it in place. “I was quite impressed with you.” Her genuine compliments are a surprise to her as well, the boy smiling softly at her. Silence settled in again, making the girl grow anxious, and she rushed to think of something else to say. “Are you not going to the Dragon Pit?” Was the only thing she could think of. She regretted the question almost instantly.

An upset expression took over the prince, making him sink more into himself. “I can’t go.” He murmurs embarrassed, looking at the muddy floor under his feet. “You were unlucky to be promised to a dragonless prince.” There was an obvious affliction in his voice, one only a true Targaryen could feel.

Elora felt a great sympathy for him at the moment, she knew what the relationship of his family was with the animals, how it was their fire that built their empire, the flames of their breath that forged their throne. In her brain, she understood how unpleasant it must be to not have a dragon of your own. But in her heart, she was glad to not have to deal with it in the future, always at a safe distance from their deadly inferno.

“I actually prefer it that way.” She said hesitantly. “I’m terrified of them.” Her blunt confession was a shock to her as well, not used to being honest about how she felt.

But it was enough to make the boy look in her direction again. A mutual understanding, a shared sympathy for their troubles. She wouldn’t know what it was like to desire a dragon, he wouldn’t understand what it was like to fear them, but they could accept it, so it was enough.

“Can I keep you company for now?” The little boy asks, looking a little more lively. “After I bathe, of course.” The realisation of his state quickly dawns on him, as he looks down to his muddy clothes. The young lady only nods in response, a small giggle escaping her lips. The two smiled together, then they left together, and they read together, and laughed together, and by the time they had to be summoned for supper, both already were less apprehensive over the idea of getting married.

***

But after the pleasant afternoon night still came, and with it another family meal. Where Elora had her assorted seat beside her future brother-in-law, her tormentor. Aegon on the other hand started being far more punctual to his meals. Always a goblet of wine in hands, a teasing smirk and a new cocky remark. Making the little girl flustered soon became his favourite pastime. So when he arrived to dinner with the flower crown still on his hair, the sight of her rolling her eyes gave him one more victory.

He took his seat with a dramatic twirl, his long coat flowing over the cushions. “My lady.” He greeted the girl with a mock curtsy. The clenching of her jaw being the only answer he wanted. Leaning closer, his mischievous smile grew wider, the crown sliding to the side over his curls. “How thrilling it must be to dine with your champion.” His smile only grew when he watched the veins in her neck starting to show, her knuckles white under the table from gripping her skirts too tight.

“You’re not my champion.” She hissed discreetly, probably afraid others would hear her unkind words. “You are not even a true champion.” Her defiant tone was almost convincing, almost. But the timidity in her eyes gave her away.

Aegon rejoiced, he couldn’t tell for certain why it was so amusing to provoke little lady Elora like that, but it was the most fun he had in years. The slight blush of her cheeks in contrast to her annoyed frown igniting a light in his eyes only reserved for her. “Is it? As far as I recall I was the one to receive your favour.” Under the table, his fingers unclenched her fists from her dress, bringing her hands to his lips with an expecting gaze. “I won fairly.”

“There’s nothing fair about sparring much younger opponents.” She was quick to pull her hand away, her voice barely above a whisper but carrying all her anger. “The only reason you suggested such a quarrel was because you knew you would win.” Her straightforwardness was something new for her too, but unlike her shock, Aegon was filled with satisfaction at getting a first glance under her shell.

“You don’t think I would win in equal conditions?” His tone is nonchalant, while his heart races waiting for her answer. Finding another excuse to invade her space, he picks up her goblet and fills it with wine, placing it back in front of her.

“I don’t know. And honestly, I don’t care.” She looks at the wine in front of her, the prince wonders if she is tempted to take it. “Now, could you please get that stupid crown off your head?” Her angry question is followed by sliding the goblet towards him, allowing him to drink from it.

He looks down at the cup, her soft fingers still circling it. A small smirk curls the corners of his lips. There was some intimacy to it, his mouth drinking from the same goblet as her. His lips touching the same metal as her lips. He wondered if it could count as a kiss, if he would taste her in the wine, if he could use this against her later. Aegon took the cup from her and drank its content slowly, keeping intense eye contact with the lady in front of him, he made sure to savour each sip.

Downing the cup, the prince filled it again before adjusting the ring of dandelions on his head. “I would never take off my crown.” There’s more playfulness than sarcasm in his tone, his true delight in their bickering showing through. “It’s my most prized possession now. The one my fair lady gave to me.” He makes sure to send her a teasing wink along with the compliment, chuckling softly at the way she averts her eyes from him. How adorable she was all shy and flustered. What a sight.

He made sure to have a dandelion on him every day for the next couple of months.

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