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rwbyremnants · 2 months ago

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WARNINGS: fellatio

Getting back to business, I swear

=Chapter 5: Ruby

The next few training sessions went fantastically, as far as Ruby Rose was concerned. Not that she was thrilled about being naked all the time, or very nearly so, but little by little she was becoming comfortable with the idea. At least this was a setting in which it was acceptable to let it all hang out, which was better than the recurring dream she had as a child of going to class and realizing she was in her underwear.

And she was learning a lot. With their natural grace and poise born from years of various types of training, Pyrrha and Weiss were already getting better at the pole, almost enough to be ready for the stage. The rest of them looked more than a little silly when they attempted it; still, at least she and Blake didn't fall off it every time now. They had been taught a lot of fun moves that clients would consider sexy, poses they could maintain, how to smile and flirt without looking goofy and shattering the illusion that they desperately wanted to be with the audience.

Then came the instructions more aligned to their specific body types. Since Ruby's package was nothing that impressive, just "cute" as Glynda, Cinder, and Sienna all seemed to agree, they reassured her that she didn't need to worry about whether or not she got hard. Instead, she learned a move they called The Meatspin; it involved shifting her hips around in the circle just the right way so that her flaccid length would helicopter. Their tutors taught all five of them that move, but spent more time training her and Weiss, since their erections wouldn't be nearly as much of a draw. She felt ridiculous spinning her dick around through the air in Glynda's unimpressed face, but by now all these insane things were starting to become routine.

Except for all of it. Ruby still couldn't help feeling like she was in an alternate dimension whenever she thought too hard about her new occupation, and how far removed it was from the picture she had in her head of her college experience. Little by little, that feeling became less intense but it refused to fade completely.

One afternoon, when they had just completed a few more successful rounds of dancing to the beat and gyrating, they were again approached - this time, by Cinder. Clearly, she had been sent there against her will, because she delivered the message with an irate sigh.

“Salem is ready for you now.”

“Ready for us to what?” Weiss asked almost instantly.

“To see her,” she continued through her teeth. “Why do you need everything spelled out for you?”

Still confused, they all barely stopped to grab water and head upstairs. They were dressed in identical unitards and clear stripper heels, to approximate what it would be like once they were on stage, but it also gave Ruby a weird feeling sharing a uniform with her friends. It was like they were attending a stripper version of Hogwarts or something. It was almost cool, but at the same time, really bizarre.

“Have fun,” Cinder bade them with a half-smirk as she thumbed toward the ominous-looking violet double-doors. The upstairs landing actually didn’t seem to have much besides just this single room, and a couple of much less important ones off to the sides; the lion’s share of the action was downstairs.

“Kind of hoping we don’t have too much fun,” Blake muttered as she reached to knock on the door.

“Enter.”

The instant they walked inside, Ruby started to feel as if they had made a huge mistake. This was a bedroom. Granted, it was a fairly huge bedroom, with so much square footage it might as well have been a dining hall, and the king-size bed along the far wall behind an insubstantial dressing screen was dwarfed by the openness of the space, but a bedroom nonetheless. That was without the red-and-violet color scheme all too familiar to them from downstairs, the giant painting of a gorgeous woman - with an equally gorgeous erect penis that rivaled Pyrrha’s - and the stage complete with stripper pole in one corner.

As if that really wasn’t enough, Salem stood there with naught but a black silk robe on that was even skimpier than the one she typically paraded around in, regarding them casually as the doors were pulled shut behind them. Her bare, pale feet sank easily into the plush white carpeting, pink as it looked thanks to the red-tinted lighting, and it was impossible not to see her decently-sized assets outlined almost obscenely well by the smooth material. This woman was more than comfortable in her vast space.

“I haven’t heard anything back about my offer in some time,” Salem said - with no preamble or cordial greeting of any kind. “But I had a sense about you five. Perhaps my instincts aren’t what they once were, but… I thought at least some of you may be intrigued. If not ready to begin immediately.”

Taking a deep breath, Weiss took it upon herself to speak for them. “We have decided to entertain the offer. No promises about going through with it, though.”

“Mm, that works for me.” She glanced around at the rest of them, then back at Weiss. “If you want to prove yourselves to me, and to get a little taste of what it might be like to be given this particular type of exhilarating, disgusting work, then I have an exercise in mind. It’s not as awful as you might fear - but might push you outside the boundaries of your comfort zone.”

“More training?” Yang groaned as she slumped slightly. “No offense, lady, but this shit’s pretty exhausting. Do we have to start today?”

“You do if you want to continue being considered for the extracurricular options. However, I’m prepared to offer you double the hourly wages I’m already paying you for dance training - under the table, naturally. Until the laws are more reasonable, there can be no paper trail for this venture.”

They all exchanged a glance. That almost sounded too good to be true - though Ruby knew Salem considered it an investment. In fact, even as she was thinking it…

"That seems reasonable. You'll easily make up that cost when we're 'finished products' you can sell to your customers."

Salem turned to raise her eyebrows at Pyrrha. For a moment, she seemed to be trying to decide if she was trying to be critical or to wind her up, but the redhead's passive expression seemed to convey that she wasn't - at least, enough to save her from retaliation.

"Absolutely. And so few of my girls come this far only to quit after training that the investment is worth it far more often than not. However… no second chances. I bear no malice toward anyone who decides this isn't for them and wish them nothing but the best moving forward, but that isn't the same as forgetting and trying to train them all over again. You get one shot to prove you're Futopia material, for either trade we offer. Prove yourself unworthy, untrustworthy, or uninterested, and you're out."

Harsh as it sounded, they all nodded in acceptance of her terms. Salem did have a business to run, after all; it would be unreasonable to expect her to put up with a bunch of wishy-washy people trying to take her training money without offering anything in return. Then and there, Ruby told herself that she would at the very least give it a try, with at least one client. If it didn't work out, at least she would give their boss one customer’s payment.

"No one reconsidering?" When they stayed silent, the head dancer smirked devilishly at them. "Perfect. Now… take off those ridiculous unitards. I understand Glynda's thought process, but don't think you need them up here."

So they stripped. Even though they were supposed to be getting used to doing that, Ruby still found herself shielding her body from view automatically; she had always been a little shy in the boys' locker rooms. At least she now knew she had a good reason for feeling that way all along.

"Let's start with the basics," she told them as she paced back and forth in front of them, her hands clasped in the small of her back. Ruby couldn't help wondering if she had some kind of military background; the posture reminded her a lot of Winter. "You're about to be part of the world's oldest profession. This work is a lot easier than dancing in some ways, and a lot harder in others. Every client should leave here at least somewhat satisfied, if not completely - and if they aren't, it should be through no fault of our own. The goal for you girls is to remember your job, and execute that job to the best of your ability. It applies to dancing and goes double for hooking."

Ruby saw Weiss and Yang make faces at that last word. Blake seemed totally unaffected, and Pyrrha only looked a tiny bit sad.

"Oh, you don't like that word? Let's call it… 'orgasm facilitator'. Or maybe 'intercourse specialist'. Whatever you have to tell yourselves, as long as you don't delude yourselves about what will be asked of you."

"No, of course not, ma'am," Weiss replied obediently.

"Not 'ma'am'. You will address me as 'Salem' or 'Madam Salem'. Or 'Queen', if you're feeling extra subservient," she added with a dark smirk on her lips.

Then she stepped forward and reached out for the dancers. Ruby was scared for a moment that something truly crazy would happen, but all she did was turn them to look at each other. She ran out before she got to Ruby due to the odd number, so the older woman simply remained there with her hands on Ruby's shoulders.

"Before any of you ask, no, I have no interest in whether or not you've kissed someone before. You'll still need practice."

"Oh," Yang breathed in mild surprise. "You… want us to- like, with each other?"

Ruby wondered if Yang was so nervous about making out because she and Blake were best friends. Taking a quick glance over at them, she could tell Blake was just as nervous - if not moreso. This was going to be awkward for Weiss and Pyrrha, as well, but they didn't seem nearly as antsy about the prospect.

But after thinking about her friends first, Ruby couldn't help gulping when it finally hit her. Salem didn't look pleased, or disgusted, or excited; she was completely at ease with the idea that she was about to steal Ruby's first kiss.

'I guess she did say she doesn't care,' she thought to herself as she inspected Madam's lips. They weren't particularly inviting or plush, but they seemed soft enough, at least. Maybe this wouldn't be as scary as she couldn't help worrying it might be. All she had to do was keep remembering that this first kiss didn't count that much, since it was one she didn't choose; it was just for the job. They had to do this to make the kind of money they wanted to make.

"What… are we supposed to do, exactly, Madam?" Pyrrha asked in a mild, non-threatening tone.

"Get used to kissing. Most of these training exercises are designed to help you feel more comfortable with interactions the job will require, rather than teach you technique. But I will probably be showing you a few moves, as well."

Out of the corner of her eye, Ruby just barely caught a glimpse of her friends starting to move closer to each other. She would have been really curious to watch that happening-

If Salem wasn't doing the very same. Her stomach fluttered when this powerful woman slid her cool fingertips along the sides of her neck, gently pulling her closer until their noses touched. Her eyes were so dark and forbidding, ominous, yet intoxicating. Ruby wasn't really the type to get that caught up in how attractive someone's body might be, but she knew Salem was no slouch - and being this close to her, while this naked, only added to her anxiety.

"Relax," the woman ordered her in a quiet tone. "Are you lying about your age? You seem less… prepared for this than your friends are."

Ruby was quick to shake her head. "Nope, I'm an adult. Really! Just not a super grown-up one - haven’t ever kissed anybody, or had sex or any of this stuff. But at least I don’t think coffee is yucky anymore! Yang used to tease me about that a lot.”

When Salem took a long moment to simply glare at her, she started to think she had made a huge mistake. Not just with her words, but in thinking she could hack any of this in the first place; even the dancing didn’t come terribly easily to her. She braced herself for dismissal and having to hang her head in shame as she retreated from this den of sin.

‘Ohhh, here it comes,’ she thought as Salem leaned in… and pressed her lips close to Ruby’s ear. ‘Wait, what is she doing?’

“Don’t expect a lot of special treatment in here,” the older woman whispered, which made Ruby’s stomach flutter and her heart speed up. Was she into Salem?! No - it was just nerves. Had to be. “You should have known what you were signing up for. However… since I’m getting the sense that you wanted to join your friends and didn’t seriously consider the consequences, I’ll grant you this one small mercy.”

Gulping hard, she managed to whisper back, “Oh, I… thank you, Madam Salem. Wait - which mercy? Or who is Mercy?”

The woman let out a scoff. It sounded both amused and irritated to Ruby’s ears. Then she drew back and looked over toward the others. Grateful for the reprieve, Ruby followed her gaze and saw her friends were just barely pecking each other’s lips awkwardly; Pyrrha and Weiss were doing fine, but they still looked like they were posing for junior prom pictures rather than enjoying truly passionate embraces. Blake and Yang were more like little kids having to kiss their grandmas - despite the full blush on their cheeks.

“Alright, let’s switch partners,” their boss announced - and only then did Ruby begin to understand what she had been talking about. “You, with the white hair - is that dyed? Take my place with this mousy girl. Blondie, you’re with me.”

“O-oh, okay. Coming right to ya, Madam!”

“I can hardly wait.”

This was so interesting to watch. Blake and Pyrrha merely exchanged awkward smiles as they edged toward each other. Yang was clearly intimidated, as all of them were by this powerhouse of a woman; still, she approached her without complaint as Ruby backed off, mouthing “thank you” to the madam, and earning her a brief wink in return. Maybe it wasn’t much, but Salem had let her out of wasting her first kiss with someone she barely knew. That seemed to lend a little weight to the claims that she really took care of her girls, despite her tough and dour mystique.

Of course, a few seconds later, she wasn’t so sure she was any better off.

“Oh, this is ridiculous,” Weiss complained under her breath as she came to a stop next to Ruby, arms folded over her slight chest. “Are we really going to be expected to kiss the customers? I’m still not even sure I want to… to sacrifice my virginity this way!”

Leading her a few feet away, Ruby whispered, “You never know, right? And I mean, I don’t really wanna kiss some sweaty stranger, either… maybe we don’t need the money this bad.”

“Mm. Well… I do,” she confessed with a sigh. “Still unsure if this is the way to get it, or if I’ll be able to live with myself afterward, but it’s certainly the fastest way. My father can keep his disgusting money.” She raised her hands to rest on Ruby’s shoulders. “Ready?”

“What? Oh! I, u-um… m-maybe, uh, maybe so. Are you?”

Weiss’s brows furrowed slightly. “Ruby, what is the matter with you? It’s only a kiss. Haven’t you ever kissed anyone before?” No answer. The rich girl gasped, “Oh! Wait, really?”

“Nope,” she confessed, her cheeks ruddier than ever.

“My God, this is bad. And you had to give your first kiss to that old witch?”

Ruby glanced over at Salem - but luckily, the woman was already drawing her sister’s mouth up toward her own. That made her feel funny, too - probably because she had come so close to that fate. At least Yang had more experience with things like this.

“U-um, well, actually… we didn’t kiss. We switched because she could tell I was nervous.”

“Really?” This was a different type of surprised tone from before. Weiss looked at their instructor again, then back at her friend. “That’s honestly quite shocking to me. I expected her to latch onto you with no forewarning, like a vampire.”

“Me, too. Maybe she’s not so bad?”

“Maybe. Wow.” Then she bit her lip for a moment. “So… does this mean, if we go through with this, I would be your first?”

“Yep! It’s, um… it’s better. At least I know you and like you and everything. Sorry you have to kiss me, though.”

Weiss scoffed as she drew her closer, pulling her by the waist this time. “Oh, it’s no big deal. Don't act like you're some kind of disgusting freak; I'm sure this will be acceptable.”

Unlike her moment with Salem, who was partly clothed, Ruby felt a chill roll down her spine when her soft dick brushed past her friend’s. That made it more difficult to view this as ‘no big deal’ at all. “Is it? I m-mean, if you don’t want to-”

“We have to. And I don’t mind, for the same reason you stated; you’re an acquaintance, and in the same age demographic, at least - and cute besides. Much more preferable. Not that I minded doing that with Pyrrha! I’m speaking about, um, the Madam. I don’t think I would be nearly as comfortable.”

“At least we agree there,” Ruby giggled as they leaned closer. “It’s scary kissing somebody old enough to be a parent or whatever. Um… is this okay?”

“Maybe. I guess it has to be.” As their noses touched, Ruby couldn’t help holding her breath. “And I suppose you’re one of the cutest of all of us. So unfair, by the way.”

Ruby barely had enough time to raise her eyebrows and open her mouth to ask why it was unfair - when she felt Weiss’s mouth gracing her own.

Perfect. Even though Weiss hadn’t been exactly nice to her all the time, even though they hadn’t spent a whole lot of time exclusively in each other’s company before, this kiss was so tender, and gentle, and warm… and she melted into it, wrapping her arms loosely around Weiss’s shoulders. Her lips were soft and inviting, and her hair like silk, and her breath caressing over her face and neck filled her with a yearning she had never felt before. She liked this. She wanted more of this.

After a second or two, Weiss drew back to whisper shakily, “O-okay, so… so that didn’t go so badly. I was kind of… I didn’t- yeah.”

“Right? Like, it was fun! I… I didn’t know it would be fun. Well, I mean they say it will, but only with your one true love! Right? A-and you and me are just friends, so how was I supposed t-”

“She’s looking!” Weiss hissed before yanking her in again. “Quick!”

This kiss was a lot less gentle and tentative. Ruby could feel Weiss tilting her head, lips kneading at her own - parting to allow her tongue outward. Weiss was licking her lips! Was this a thing people normally did? She might have even liked it, but she just didn’t know what to think about it exactly.

But her heart didn’t need any convincing. Already, it was triphammering in her chest as she began to try to give as good as she got, sliding her tongue out to tease her friend’s. Even though it had been Weiss to try it first, she still felt the dainty socialite tense with surprise when the French kiss was returned…

And heard her moan a little. This was getting serious; they were both into it now, even if Ruby still wasn’t completely sure what they were into. Just that she had found someone she was legitimately comfortable with - as long as she didn’t think too hard about how naked they were, or which parts were rubbing against which. Maybe Weiss wouldn’t feel the same when the moment had passed, but for the first time in a long while, Ruby actually imagined that she could like being intimate with another human being. Maybe even want to seek it out.

“Ruby,” Weiss breathed softly when their lips parted, one hand fisted in her shoulder-length locks by now. “Is… are you feeling… what I’m feeling?”

“I… I dunno. What are you feeling?”

“Like… I could keep doing that. For a while, and not be bored.” Had her pale cheeks ever been that red before? Not in Ruby’s memory. “You’re, um, an excellent kisser.”

That shocked her. “Really?! I thought I’d be dumb!” They both chuckled a little. “Well, thanks for teaching me how to do it, I had a good time.”

“Oh, I didn’t need to teach you anything. Your instincts are pretty sharp.” Weiss bit her lip, caressing along Ruby’s back - which was either an unconscious action, or Ruby was about to lose what was left of her tiny mind. “Did you really… have a good time? With me? Honestly, I didn’t expect anyone to choose me first - unless they were into the vapid Paris Hilton type.”

Swallowing hard, she whispered, “I don’t think you’re like Paris. Well, I’ve never met her, and don’t know that much about her, anyway… but I think you’re like Weiss Schnee. And that’s somebody who’s not just pretty, but pretty cool.”

That earned her the rarest prize of them all: a real, genuine smile from Weiss. This time, when she leaned in to kiss her again, she was ready to accept, leaning into the contact and humming with gratitude that they got to do it again.

Though she wasn’t sure how much time passed before someone cleared their throat, Ruby felt like it had been some time. She pulled away from the kiss and looked over-

And saw not just Salem glaring at them. Yang and their other friends also looked to be in various states of curiosity - with Yang grinning from ear to ear, as if Ruby had just performed some kind of exciting trick.

“Uh…?”

“You seem to have gotten a little carried away,” Salem observed with a slight smirk. “Not that it’s much of an issue. Still, you have given us an easy excuse to springboard into another training exercise. Which of you three would like to try fellatio?”

While Yang looked alarmed and Blake and Pyrrha glanced at each other, Ruby couldn’t help looking back at Weiss in surprise, expecting her to be equally confused. What was Salem talking about?! But she saw Weiss was instead staring down in shame. Out of habit, she followed her eyes, even though there was probably nothing going on down there-

Oh, but there was. Both she and Weiss were sporting erections she had not at all been aware of before that moment. All that dancing and cavorting didn’t do it for Ruby, even waving it around in Glynda’s face… but a little kissing with a good friend was enough to awaken a need in her that had been almost completely dormant until now. She stared in wonder at the other pale shaft, as rosy as Weiss’s cheeks, and how it was practically lying right on top of her own. Weiss was a tiny bit larger, as well - and so pretty. Ruby had never thought of dicks as being cute or pretty before, but this place was beginning to change her mind about that. Her hand began to raise to wrap around both of them-

“Ruby!” Weiss hissed in shock as she took a step back, covering her anatomy with both hands. Not that it was easy. “What are you doing?!”

"I… I dunno?" she squeaked. "I wasn't expecting-"

"Blondie, you take the little mouse," Salem interrupted before they could fully talk this out. "The brunette can try out the silver debutante."

"If you'd like to know our names, just ask," Weiss reminded her with an uncomfortable little squirm as Blake edged closer to her.

"Uhhh… Madam Salem?" Yang even raised her hand. Their boss rolled her eyes a little before gesturing at her to continue. "I, uh, I'd like to switch, or maybe sit this one out?"

"You sound as if you don't want to do any of this at all. Maybe we can arrange for that."

Ruby saw how uncomfortable she looked, swallowing hard and shifting from foot to foot - and Ruby was, too. Neither of them wanted that outcome, and they had both been forced to consider it while they were in a state of arousal. So she jumped to her defense.

"A-actually, it's because Y- Sunbeam’s my half-sister."

"Oh." Salem raised an eyebrow, clearly caught off guard. "I was not expecting that reason. Intriguing. But very well, your redhead friend may take your place; we'll find someone else for you to play with after this first round."

Though Ruby was more than a little surprised this was continuing anyway, and very nervous as Pyrrha made her way over, she couldn't help wondering why Salem had chosen that word. Intriguing. What was intriguing about them being sisters? Though she knew most likely it was just that they didn't look that much alike, she still couldn't help wondering anyway.

"Hello again."

"H-hey, Pyrrha," Ruby blustered, realizing she wasn't sure what to do with her hands. She wound up holding onto her opposite wrist behind her back as she shuffled her feet nervously. "How's it goin?"

The tall, graceful woman let out a shy chuckle. "Fine, just fine. Well… perhaps we should-"

"One of you may use the bed," Salem decreed as she walked around them. "You two, go on. The rest may stay where we are, or retire to the couch."

There was a couch? Sure enough, there was a plush sectional in an unoccupied corner that Ruby had failed to notice when they entered. She would probably have gone in that direction if she and Pyrrha hadn't been instructed to use her bed. Too late now.

It felt even weirder to be laying down on her boss’s plush, velvety bed than it did to be in this entire club in the first place. It made their actions feel more serious than they truly were, but she tried to tell herself to relax; this wasn’t nearly as big of a deal as she had built it up to be in her mind. They were going to do something carnal and fleeting for the purposes of learning how to do it better. That wasn’t so bad, was it?

“Well, here we are, I suppose,” Pyrrha chuckled nervously as she settled into the bed next to her. The tall, strong woman was only slightly apprehensive; mostly, she was far more cool and collected than the rest of them could hope to be.

“Yep! Uhh, we sure are. So, um, you wanna… put your mouth on- oh my God, I can’t even say this stuff. What the heck am I doing here?!”

Still chuckling, she put her arm around Ruby’s shoulders. “It’s alright. I’ll just get started, if you’re ready; you don’t have to say anything.”

“Yeah? I mean, like, it’s not weird that you’re about to do that with me?”

“Perhaps a little. But having already… well, allowed our colleague Thunder Thighs to use my thighs to her heart’s content, plus having had my penis pressed against Yang’s, this seems no more insane. At least we have a comfortable place in which to explore and train this time.”

Ruby nodded as she thought that over. She couldn’t help glancing down at her friend moved into position, and saw that Pyrrha was a tiny bit hard already; she must have enjoyed that kiss with Blake at least somewhat. She wanted to ask about that-

A warm mouth enveloping her throbbing need silenced those concerns. Ruby shut her eyes tight and sighed as she allowed the sensation to wash over her, trying not to squirm or move her hips too much - though it wasn’t easy. This felt both fantastic and terrible at the same time. Part of her wanted to kick her friend away and tell her to stop, but part of her also was really interested in this new sensation and wanted it to keep going.

When a little whimper turned into a moan, Ruby couldn’t help squeaking, “I… I’m sorry!”

“For what?” Pyrrha asked right away, pulling off but keeping her face closeby.

“I’m… making noises- it feels so weird! But y-you’re doing great!”

“Oh,” she breathed with a slight smile. “Then perhaps I can make you feel a little better? Ordinarily, I might let you have a little break, but I do believe Madam Salem wants us to fellate each other to orgasm.”

“Y-yeah, that seems to be the idea,” she laughed nervously. “I’ve just only ever… I mean, Kleenex work fine! Y’know?”

Instead of answering, Pyrrha merely chuckled briefly before getting right back to work. Ruby had to cover her mouth to keep from moaning aloud, her thighs springing open like they wanted nothing more than this towering example of femininity to keep this brand new sensation going forever.

And then it got wilder. Even though it honestly wasn’t all that much of a change, feeling that mouth pull off with a slight pop and move down to her soft sack, lips and tongue sliding all over each ball and shifting them around so gently that instead of hurting or being frightening as Ruby expected, it just made her throb yet more, desperate to have something - someone in this case - give her dick the satisfaction it was beginning to crave more than anything she had ever wanted in her life.

Besides being seen as a woman. Well, and graduating and figuring out what she wanted to do with her life, but those were more longterm goals. But she was trying to distract herself so she wouldn’t have to think too much about her sexuality - which she did quite often.

Pyrrha’s mouth moving back up to her little cock got her to refocus. Ruby knew she was letting herself dissociate because it was easier than confronting that she liked this a lot more than she ever thought she would; she had honestly thought she was asexual. Maybe she still was, at least somewhat, but not nearly as repulsed by the idea as she had been once upon a time. That would most likely take some time to figure out.

“Pyrrha!” she whimpered into her hand as her cock throbbed. “Um… I-I’m gonna do the thing! I hope you’re ready!”

“Mmhmm!” was all her friend hummed by way of acknowledgement as her head bobbed up and down. This was definitely not new territory for the athlete; she was going down on her like a pro, as far as Ruby could tell. It felt so good! Her sack felt like it was tightening, her heart picking up speed until-

And that was it. Somehow it felt a little underwhelming, but she also was so overcome with the pleasant sensation of having somewhere warm and wet to deposit her seed this time that she couldn’t even care anymore. One of her hands came to rest on the back of Pyrrha’s head as she shot deep into her throat with a long, shivering cry that couldn’t be entirely silenced by her hand.

That was it. Sex. Even if it was just oral, it counted; Ruby’s virginity was gone by a lot of people’s standards.

“Mmm, okay,” Pyrrha sighed as she pulled off, letting the half-hard length flop to the side as she placed both hands on Ruby’s hips to pull back. She glanced behind them at the dressing screen that shielded them from the view of their companions before turning her eyes back up to her current partner. “Was my technique satisfactory? Was that what you needed?”

Was it? Ruby wasn’t sure. It was nice to have finished climaxing - and Pyrrha had made her feel a lot better than she had ever dreamed. Yet at the same time, she couldn’t help feeling as if…

As if she wished someone else’s mouth had been on her instead.

#club futopia zero the futoprologue #the housewives hit club futopia #white rose kiss #rwby smut #rwby fanfiction #rwbyremnants

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cryptidsurveys · 4 months ago

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Saturday, July 20th, 2024.

10 HOW’S How did you get one of your scars? Enough about the scars I know about; let's go with one that's a mystery instead. There's one just behind the knuckle on my right index finger, around a centimeter in length. I think I've had it for the majority of my life, perhaps even since childhood, but I have no idea how I received it.

How did you celebrate your last birthday? I volunteered at the animal shelter in the morning, then went out to lunch at Ruby Tuesday with my parents. Also, it was a really snowy, slushy day, so that was an extra plus.

How are you feeling at this moment? Probably as close to relaxed as my brain will allow me to be. I woke up around 5:30am, laid in bed for a while and listened to a tarot reading on YT, had my usual oatmeal for breakfast while reading through some comments on a reaction video, cleaned my room, made some art while sipping coffee, and now I'm here - just passing time until I go for a movie with my mom. It was her birthday a few days ago, so we're going to go see Despicable Me 4.

How did your night go last night? It was chill. I had dinner, chatted with my dad, then fell asleep to an Event Horizon podcast about searching for techno signatures on exoplanets.

How did you do in high school? High school was a mess.

How did you get the shirt you’re wearing? One of them was a gift from my dad; it's a Bigfoot shirt that he bought at the mall a couple of years ago. Then I'm wearing a blue tank top over that; it was given to me by the animal shelter a few weeks ago, along with a minty-green t-shirt.

How often do you see your best friend? He lives in California, so I never get to see him in person.

How much money did you spend last month? Aside from the usual expenses, I don't think I really spent any extra money.

How old do you want to be when you get married? It's not so much a matter of age as it is finding the right person, being emotionally ready for that type of partnership, etc.

How old will you be at your next birthday? 36. I don't know whether it's a curse or a blessing that I've been allowed to survive for so long, lmao.

9 WHAT’S What is the most important part of your life? My family and my cats, improving my overall wellbeing, volunteering, etc.

What did you do last weekend? I stayed home on Saturday and did the usual (cleaned my room, made art, watched entirely too much YouTube…), and on Sunday I was at the animal shelter from around 7-11am.

What did you last cry over? This is going to sound so silly, but let me explain. The last time I cried was in therapy. We were talking about my art and my therapist made the suggestion to try something new - as a sort of mindfulness exercise, just to see what came up - like trying to paint a picture upside down or something along those lines. I was resistant to it; like no, the whole reason I paint landscapes and hardly ever branch out in terms of technique is because I like the mindlessness of it. I don't want to think, I don't want to feel, I don't want to "see what comes up." We explored it a bit more and I just started to cry. I realized it was because I'm so far out of my comfort zone in my everyday life that I need that island of safety and routine in such a discomforting sea of everything else.

What are you worried about? The same future stuff as always. But in my immediate life, I'm not really all that worried about anything.

What is your mother’s name? I'm not going to give that.

What always makes you feel better when you’re upset? NOT painting my landscapes upside down, lmao. Trips to the Mountain Park. Cuddling with my kitties. Talking with my dad. Reminding myself of how far I've come, everything I'm grateful for, all the things that are going right, etc.

What would you rather be doing? I'm fine with this.

What’s the most important thing you look for in a significant other? I'm not even looking for a significant other atm.

What did you have for breakfast? Oatmeal.

EIGHT HAVE YOU’S Have you ever done something outrageously dumb? Yeah.

Have you ever had sex on the beach? Just thinking about it makes me feel itchy. All that sand…in all the wrong places…

Have you ever been backstabbed by a friend? Not really.

Have you ever been out of the country? No.

Have you ever dated someone younger than you? Yeah.

Have you ever liked someone who already had somebody? Yeah. They were polyamorous, though, so the fact that they were already with someone wasn't a barrier. However, I did very quickly discover that such relationship dynamics aren't for me.

Have you ever been brokenhearted? Very much so.

Have you ever read an entire book in one day? Probably.

SEVEN WHO’S: Who is the last person you saw? My dad.

Who is the last person that you texted? My mom.

Who called you last? My dad.

Who is the last person you hung out with? I haven't really "hung out" with anyone recently.

Who did you hug last? My mom.

Who is the last person that texted you? My mom.

Who was the last person you said “I love you” to? My dad.

SIX WHERE’S: Where does your best friend live? California.

Where is your favorite place to be? At home, out in nature, or at the animal shelter.

Where did you sleep last night? My bed.

Where did you last hang out? The animal shelter, I guess.

Where do/did you go to school? I'm not going to list the schools I attended. I'm also not in school at this time, nor do I have any current plans to go back.

Where did you last adventure to? The Mountain Park, last Wednesday. It was much needed. I don't feel like I got enough of it, though. It made me realize that most of my life has been consumed by the routine of going to the animal shelter and I really need to get out there on a more regular basis.

FIVE DO’S/DOES Do you ever wish you were someone else? I don't really want to be anyone else, but I do wish I could be…like a different, healthier, stronger, more confident version of myself.

Do you think anyone despises you? Ehhh, maybe Alex at the shelter…? Like, I don't think she necessarily full-on despises me, but she can be very…hmmm. Critical, petty, fake. We keep it friendly and professional, but yeah. I'm under no illusions.

Do you like someone right now? No.

Does the future scare you? Yeah. Which is why I'm trying so damn hard to become more independent/self-reliant now, before it's too late.

Do you have any secret powers? Naw.

FOUR WHY’S: Why are you best friends with your best friend(s)? I honestly don't even know how to answer this. We've been friends since we were teens, and idk, we just get along well together, have the same general sense of humor, like some similar things, etc. It's a very easy, drama-free friendship these days.

Why did your parents give you the name you have? My parents didn't give me my current name.

Why did you get a myspace? Curiosity, I guess, and as a way to keep in touch with a few people. But I spent so much time there because I loved taking surveys, messing around with my layout, and that sort of thing.

Why are you doing this survey? The questions looked interesting.

THREE IF’S: If you could have one super power what would it be? Either teleportation or a very fine-tuned sense of intuition (so I could be in the right place at the right time, know what to say or do to have the most impact, etc).

If you could go back in time and change one thing, would you? I guess not.

If you could live anywhere, where would it be? Maybe somewhere like Beulah or Rye. I want to be out in the woods/mountains, but close enough to where I currently live in order to stay at the animal shelter + have all the conveniences of my current city without an overwhelming commute.

TWO WOULD-YOU-EVER’S: Would you ever shave your head to save someone you love? Yeah.

Would you ever get back together with any of your exes if they asked you? No.

LAST ONE: Are you happy with how your life has turned out? It hasn't exactly "turned out" yet. I mean, I'm still living it, still progressing, etc. Am I happy with how things are now, though? Yes and no. On one hand, I'm extremely proud of how far I've come and I try to give myself a lot of credit for that - because it sure as hell has not been easy - but on the other hand, I still have so far left to go.

#survey #surveys #personal survey #random survey #survey blog

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xconstantblur · 2 years ago

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lost in the summer breeze

The courtyard is empty save for two people, one in shorts and a cap and the other tucking her skirt around her legs as she sits, pulling the lollipop from her mouth. There’s a few abandoned basketballs too, and pink chalk written on the concrete that reads: Gabby + Scott, Forever and Ever. There’s no heart, and Liam almost laughs because shouldn’t there be a heart? He pulls the cigarette from between his lips and leans forward, drawing it in himself with ashes. Nora snickers beside him, lips curling up in a way that makes Liam’s nerves spark and dance.

“Aren’t you a romantic,” Nora quips, plucking the cigarette from Liam and bringing it to her mouth. Her lips are ruby red, sticky and shiny from the lollipop. Liam drags his eyes away. He looks at Nora’s knees instead, peeking out from beneath her white skirt.

“Just doing what I can to help young love thrive,” Liam murmurs lightly.

“Does it matter that it was drawn with cigarette ash?” Nora laughs, smoke carrying away on the sound. “Kinda seems like bad luck, doesn’t it?”

It would just figure, Liam thinks ruefully, that he tries to bless a relationship and winds up cursing it instead. “It needed a heart. Everyone knows you’re supposed to draw a heart.” Probably not with nicotine and formaldehyde, but it’s all Liam had on hand. “I always drew a heart.” And in trying to defend himself, he’s gone too far. Liam feels his face burn; if Nora notices, hopefully she’ll just think it’s from the sun.

“Oh, Liam,” Nora says, and it’s a cruel mix of fond and mocking, “you really are a romantic.” She puts out the cigarette right on the + in the middle of the heart. “It’s cute.”

Her tone says: It’s not cute at all. It’s sad.

“It was years ago,” Liam says. Not true. One year, if he’s being generous. And then he’d realized how Nora would take it if she ever saw them, so he’d stopped. Now he doodles birds and bicycles in the margins of his notebooks, and hands that reach out for unseen things. “I just did it when I was being silly and stupid over a crush. I grew out of it. I haven’t even had a crush in a long time.” That’s true. It stopped being just a crush a long time ago.

Nora hums with amusement. “Well, a crush is called a crush for a reason. But you’re not the type to grow out of it. You’re the type to want to stargaze and eat breakfast in bed and kiss under mistletoe. The dreamer type.” Nora glances at Liam with a crooked grin. “Such a dreamer. Sometimes I think you’d jump off a building believing you were gonna fly.”

I would if I could believe for one second that you’d catch me, Liam thinks. He says, “Well at least I don’t draw hearts anymore,” and matches Nora’s grin.

There’s a chopping sound above. Wings. The blades of a passing helicopter. It almost makes Liam wince as he frowns up at the sky. It makes him think of Nora flying away. She could. She will. Someday. Any second.

“It’s just chalk,” Nora says, and Liam looks back down at the pink inside the ashes. “Pretty, but it’ll be washed away.” She bumps Liam’s shoulder with her own, smiling. “You don’t have to worry. You can’t cause any lasting damage to something that wasn’t going to last anyway.”

But Liam is selfish and wishes he could. He thinks he might be willing to do anything, if it means Nora will remember him after she takes to the sky and doesn’t look back.

“But it does look better with a heart,” Nora says. “You made it look complete.”

If Liam opened up his chest and said, I made this for you, would it mean anything at all, or would Nora just look away?

“Let’s hope it doesn’t give them cancer,” Liam says, dry as the concrete they’re sitting on, and Nora leans back on her hands howling her laughter at the sun.

Nora’s heart is a highway, and Liam is just a child playing in traffic.

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inkybirdy · 3 years ago

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*drops this and runs*

“Don’t go, then.” “That isn’t really an option.” “We can go to the gardens, instead.”

Link said it so casually, criss-crossing on a settee in Ganon’s chambers with one of the Gerudo prince’s gilded mirrors propped on his knee. He continued fiddling with the ruby earrings that Nabooru insisted he borrow, trying to keep them from tangling in his silky moon-pale locks. If Ganon had been only paying attention to Link’s idleness and soft, sweet tone of voice, it’d be like he weren’t suggesting they play hooky from a diplomatic event at all.

“I can’t skip it.” “You said it was silly, an hour ago.” “It is.” Ganon had finished pinning back his hair and leaned against the nearby balcony banister. His voice had as much resignation as ruefulness to it, but at least his posture mimicked the relaxed aura Link had adopted, “Today being a holiday at all is morbid. Ridiculous.” “So, don’t go.” “I’m going to be king in a couple of years.” “Go in a couple of years, then.” “I have to set an example.”

Link was a vision in red. Rich scarlet silk dripped down his shoulders as his wrap started to pool around his hips; the gold adorning his ankles and wrists chimed with invitation, reflecting spots of flaming vibrancy against the carved walls. The soft fabric of the loose, Gerudo-styled pants that he wore was just barely sheer enough to tease at revealing the curve of his thighs. Red was a Sheikah color, a fitting bloody shade for his people and the occasion - the desert people gathering to honor the end of a war both catastrophic and decades past - but the longer Ganon looked, the more he thought that Link seemed made to fit into his world. Surrounded in soft, searing colors and plush cushions, glittering jewels tucked into his hair. Or, rather, Ganon considered that his world would shift happily to give Link a perfect space.

Rouge decorated the outer corners of Link’s eyes, and it took Ganon a minute to realize that he’d been saying something while he’d looked over. “What?” “I said you look distracted, sunbeam.” Link chuckled. “And that I’m only teasing. I know it’s important, and I’m just happy to be with you - I just want you to know that it’s okay if it makes you anxious and you’d rather not go.”

Ganon’s shoulders relaxed from a tension he didn’t realize he’d been holding, drifting into a smile as Link stood and approached him, “I’m alright.” “You’re very sweet.” “Not really.” “And very responsible.” “Now you are teasing.”

A quiet hum and Link’s arms were twining around Ganon’s waist, chin resting against him as he peered up through his lashes. Ganon relished the swell of warmth that built up in the pit of his chest, and cupped Link’s face in his hands to caress his cheeks.

“We’re not gonna get to the party at all, if you keep looking at me like that.” Link murmured, equally amused as he was fond. “Keep looking at me like that, and we’re not even gonna make it to bed.”

Though, of course, Link had been right - Ganon was a responsible man. They did make an appearance at the feast, and spent starlit hours strolling through the rooftop gardens.

Eventually.

#loz #legend of zelda #ganlink #ganondorf #link #asks #adventure boyfriends au #myart #my writing

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rubitheracoon · 8 months ago

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And I thought this man couldn't get any more ✨️𝑭𝒂𝒃𝒖𝒍𝒐𝒖𝒔✨️

#you dont have to fuck to be fab #hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin #alastor hazbin hotel #radio demon #absolutely fabulous #like look at him #he be flaunting his stuff #Rubi being silly instead of going to bed

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janumun · 3 years ago

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The Pirate's Symbol(s): NSFW Alphabet [IkeSen Motonari]

Game: Ikemen Sengoku Pairing: Motonari/Female Reader

Rated: NSFW/18+ Words: 2.5k

Warnings: stockings fetish, spoilers for Motonari’s ‘condition’, sexual intercourse, mentions of exhibitionism/semi-public sex, (non-sexual) bondage, innuendoes and dirty-talk, masturbation

Author’s Notes: Motonari’s entire self is a joy, his route gave me some much needed, invigorating enemies-to-lovers, and I officially love him! [Totally swiped my heart right up without warning!]

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Motonari is quick — you’d almost say adept — at sweeping off a cloth, or container, placed by your bedside. Although, your touch and whatever fire you generate in between the two of you does not bother him, he does prefer you both cleaner of the mess and fluids when holding you close in his arms, afterwards.

Wiping up the remnants of your passionate and, often vigorous, activities off of quivering thighs he presses apart, in gentle strokes of damp fibers. Movements of the cloth soft enough it doesn’t shock you into over-sensitivity but not soft enough you relax entirely beneath him, because that scarlet gaze is always fixated on you — your body language. And if you give away even an inch, he’s ready and up for round two (or four). [Bless yer stamina, matey!]

If not, he’s still up and happy to listen to his favorite flower-brained woman’s amusing, outrageous tales she narrates in animated conversation. While he whisks up a quick, invigorating meal for her at the kitchen counter, just as she rests her happy self at the table. Garnet gaze seemingly fixated upon the task at hand — spices being tossed, ladle being stirred, eggs whipped to perfection — but his answers are prompt and alert, although still carrying that insouciant edge. Indicating his attention; equal division in between feeding you and hearing you speak.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Motonari is fond of his mouth, and before you, he didn’t think of it as much of an achievement as he believes it now, when your jittery gaze seeks immediate relief (and lust) as soon as it lands upon that obvious smirk.

A single kiss and your thoughts are all but handed over to him on an elaborate platter. Your cheeks color dark and wide; restless eyes tracing across his mouth. Your own parting; pink tongue darting quick in a swipe across plush lips: all of you demanding more of him.

Yes, he is surprisingly (or not), in touch with a far more emotional side: Motonari adores your eyes, although you’re never hearing it from him. Your entire body speaks of honesty but the way he reads your thoughts so easy, in your gaze, there’s quite nothing as exhilarating or confounding as the love he captures in them. That quick, tight knot of your brow, your anger flaring in your eyes or the equally prompt melting, when he appeases you in gentle teases. He’s been so long used to not trusting that a person he sees this clearly through, and sees how she trusts; it’s not an entirely terrible thing to feel.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

As mentioned above, the man doesn’t particularly care to leave you a mess post-coitus unless you ask it of him; there is little he’s able to refuse you. So when it does come (…heh) to cumming outside of your pussy, your mouth is a pretty (very pretty too) good substitute for him to ejaculate, without having to think of leaving external stains on you. Your throat clamping, then swallowing, around his orgasm, so he feels that slick slide of saliva and semen around him, as you moan.

Yer pretty darn hot, m’lady.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

There are times he descends — quick and furious — into an almost juvenile state of petty jealousy [he realizes the immaturity of it, he just cannot! help! it!] and ends up turning that lust on you, instead.

He’d never actually do it but visualizing — in almost exact, murderous details — how he’d like to drag you into an empty room whenever Kicho gets all up in your face, and fuck you so hard your throat tears through screams lough enough Kicho hears each and every single sound and moan.

Or, clasp your chin in his fingers, whenever Hideyoshi’s a little too close for comfort at an Oda banquet, and kiss you senseless and noisy [pirates crave a flashy exhibition!].

He despises making a show of you to anybody, so that idea only stays in thoughts but also it’s mind-boggling, since it does get him hard on the spot.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Before you, it was only ever through terrible necessity (extremely dire straits) that he — if ever and very sparing — sought casual sex. The occasions hadn’t been plenty and he’d be frighteningly specific about how he wanted to take a woman to bed.

Bathed, no make-up, no perfume, no scented products or jewelry — anything extra that he could accidentally touch and trigger a reaction. A clean, unscented futon he’d provide in a bare room. Any bonds or cloths he could get his hands on (buying his own and discarding immediately after), to tie their limbs, keep their movements limited; Motonari used.

Of course, there’d be the rare prostitute who’d drop immediately after visiting a client, or one who’d perceive his conditions extreme and over-the-top and think they could ‘change his mind’. The moment they’d try and cross the line, he’d fling them off, almost violently, heart racing, sweat marking each inch of exposed skin. Nauseous and barely tapped, before he’d stride out of the room.

He’s also witnessed open and perverse brothels — and corrupt seething dens — where men and women fuck, for all to see, in his line of work, so he’s no stranger to how sex works for others either.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He’s learning to let go and touch (just you) without the added barrier of gloves and since you so seem fond of his hands on you, Motonari likes any positions that allow his hands to move your body upon his; he isn’t picky.

Palms curved upon your hips so that your ass slaps against his pelvis each time he pulls back, the movements of his cock into and out of your pussy — a place you are both connected and he likes that. Or even when he can spread your thighs wide, press them apart before hooking his hands over your abdomen and just focusing on moving.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He’s a pirate he’s a vortex of a man and slips all over the spectrum. Motonari’s goading is far softened with minimum barbs, when he’s in(side you) in bed with you. More velvet — than leathery — questions, soft smirk-y and probing,: “Ya like that, flower girl?” —as his mouth hovers just close to your ear, nose barely touching and tucking sweat soaked strands away from your temple. Definitely lands firm and midway between too serious and entirely silly. But he’s all focus on you, make no mistake.

He’s still got a filthy mouth on him, but dirty romantic liners are more his style, in bed (he wants you warmed as well as turned on!), in contrast to the complete indecent filth he threatens you with (a good time!) when the two of you are out and about.

“Pipe down, m’lady. The way yer moaning, they’re gonna think I’m fucking ya, right on deck.” Those eyes are burnished rubies; smile wide, crooked and unashamed, as he ducks close. “But maybe ya feel like putting on a show.”

H = Hair (how well-groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He’s clean down below (and silver-haired, yes) — he doesn’t go the ‘complete waxed up, no-hair in sight’ route, but rather prefers keeping his hair short-trimmed and well-groomed.

He’s also kept his pubic hair short and neat, for the rare occasions he does have sex, and an unkempt mass down there would leave him more likely and exposed to his partner’s fluids staying on him. He despises that.

Motonari doesn’t mind blood, dirt and grime on the field, nor the brine of the harsh sea sticking to his skin, but as soon as he’s done with — or in between — jobs, he takes the time to wash and clean himself up thoroughly.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

[Also see G=Goofy] Motonari isn’t short with words of love. He isn’t reciting romantic poems but he is quick to let you know, in exact words, how much he loves you — and is loving being inside you — in the moment. Barriers definitely lower themselves — not all down, not completely back up — with this man, in bed.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

(As also mentioned in E=Experience) the man, previously, has sought intimacy only and only out of desperate necessity and when his hand is just not enough for him to relieve himself of his lust. Motonari, before you, jacked off, multiple times within a week, sometimes thrice (or more) in a single day. His desires, usually amped, following a particularly unsatisfying battle or raid.

After you, he still does take time off for some self-lovin’ (remember: stamina for daaays, and you’re mostly unable to match him so he makes do), just not as much as he used to, in the past.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

You and Motonari share a love for (clothing) imports from the seas beyond. He’s always up for sharing and discussing trade secrets, doling out clothing advice and helping you work out modern clothing from whatever fabrics are available to you.

Stockings might be one of his favorite products.

The fabric feeling absolutely exquisite against his palms when he rounds you close into his grasp, stood in between his spread thighs as he observes and hums beneath you, seated. A harmless joke you make, about a stocking fetish and the ensuing explanation soon after, has him grinning and dragging you down to test the material against his teeth.

“Yer sayin’ I got a thing for yer fancy underclothes? Heh, don’t think so. Seeing you in it just makes me wanna tear it all off, meu docinho de côco.”

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Anywhere you’re afforded privacy; although a little flirting with danger is good and being pinned in between the door and his body. Watching you try and smother your moans into your sleeves, skews that grin wider, that cock harder.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

You. He’s got a dirty mind, it’ll do the rest of the work when its got its catalyst: you.

Nothing gets you results faster than being honest with Motonari, or expressing your affections (even chaste) for him.

Tell him he looked especially handsome, earlier on a job out: with his hair slicked back and how hard it was for you to have held back from kissing him, on the spot. That you love him—

He’s on you so fast.

“That brain’s just gotta keep sprouting its flowers, huh.” He murmurs, tugging at your chin to swipe his tongue into you.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Despite his treatment of you very early on in his route (the collar, the slavery deal), Motonari’s not into putting a collar on a person, romantic or otherwise. Collaring and hearing you call him your Master wouldn’t do much for him, playful or not.

He’s had to live a great chunk of his life as the Beggar Prince; experienced the devastating dregs of human society, including and not limited to being treated as one inferior, and having to watch people around at the very mercy of corrupt lords.

In retrospect, it isn’t something he might take pleasure in, in the bedroom.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Giving or receiving, both take some getting used to within the bedroom. He finds the taste of you pleasant, when he withdraws wet digits from inside you and takes a careful swipe of the clear fluid across his skin. And has expressed interest in, and gone down on you several times.

Receiving gets a bit more gentle coax-y and requires reassurances, with Motonari. He doesn’t particularly like seeing his release all over you. Having to work through those barriers of his mind, but once he allows you, he does enjoy the slow kisses, and the soft slide of your mouth against him.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

His default setting is rough and furious. The two of you are usually frustrated passion by the time you actually get to his bedroom (he likes to prod and poke much too often in public, get you riled) so there’s only one way to go and it’s up. He’s spreading your thighs apart with none too gentle hands as he pushes through and into you, your own hold on him, white knuckled and almost delirious with the way his hips rock into you and his cockhead scraps across your front wall with his onslaught.

At times, however, especially after a high-risk mission; when he’s been close enough to stare Death in the face and survive, he likes to take his time being inside you, just being able to feel you. Once, twice, several times, he’s keeping you beneath, or mounted on top of him, coaxing your hips and your moans.

“Don’t look at me like that, flower girl. I’m alive, ain’t I? Com’ere. I’ll take those tears of yers.”

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Definitely! Any time he can have you, or get you close enough in private, you’re going to be fucking each other. He loves those little breathy, moan-laughters you make in half-panic/all arousal, each time he drives up to grind your hips close together, stuffed into a hallway closet.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Semi-public quickies are a thing and the closest to risky as he gets. As mentioned previously, he’s demanding enough over you, he doesn’t like men Kicho touching you, let alone hearing you when you sound like that.

Other kinks, most kinks, he’s down to try with his favorite dirty, flower-brained woman. He does however, draw the line at any kinks that might involve him using harsh, ugly words to degrade you or your body and/or being soiled.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

All I gotta say is: Pirate’s got stamina enough to power his ships through horn alone, over an entire week!

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Toys translate to external objects. Which are always subject to germs, and need to be (excessively) cleaned by his standards, to keep them useful and usable. That’s far much more work than he’s usually willing to commit himself to.

And he has no need of them. Not when you respond plenty to his touch alone.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

A lot! Motonari’s brand of filthy talk is polished to leave you damp in between the legs. He’s pulling the nastiest most wonderful innuendoes out of the most mundane of tasks.

“Ya like that old weapon?” He might ask of you, as you admire the carvings upon the handle of one of his clan’s katana. “Didn’t know ya liked the feel of handlin’ a sword between yer hands that much, m’lady.”

Leaving your mind reeling and cheeks flushing before withdrawing with a, “What’re ya cooking in that flower brain of yers? Heh... you’ve got a dirty mind.”

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Heavy, sensual pants against your ears. His groans and grunts enough to fan the fires of your own arousal, to have you ready to come, from just the sounds that can leave his throat. Motonari doesn’t care to be heard outside your boundaries, but he also doesn’t care to withhold his own sounds of pleasure from you.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He almost swears (but will never tell you, in very direct words): the space in between your bare breasts smells almost sweet like flowers. He likes finding his way up and nosing in between your breasts — just skin-to-skin contact at a place he finds you’re at your most fragrant. Suckling and tugging at a nipple draws those moans and your scent more intense, so he nips and teeths around the place often.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

That beautiful cock — with the evidence of just enough silver at the base — is long enough it fits and curves snug into you, without entering into any discomforting places, deep. But he is thick enough, it takes you time (and many times) to not just hold your breath and tighten up around him on reflex, upon entry.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

(Read: S)

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

You’re almost always the one falling asleep first. Pirates are used to night raids and this one’s no different. He does prefer watching you sleep, late into the night, once you fall exhausted into slumber.

End Notes: Thank you for reading!

♧° Link to Master List °♡

#ikesen motonari #ikemen sengoku motonari #ikesen mouri motonari #ikesen motonari smut #ikesen smut #ikemen sengoku smut #ikesen fanfic #ikemen sengoku fanfiction #ikesen motonari x reader #ns//fw text #a pickle writes

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jammatown919 · 3 years ago

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Best Laid Plans

Several months ago, an anon asked me to write a piece in which the group tries to play matchmaker for Ruby and Penny. This is what that turned into.

Ruby liked Vacuo better than she'd thought she would. Sure, it was unbearably hot most days and a fair amount of the locals seemed rather disgruntled about having more refugees around, especially Atlesian ones, but she'd take this over Atlas any day.

She was especially relived that she and her group had been allowed to enroll as students at Shade Academy rather than having their Huntsmen licenses renewed. They hadn't been at all ready for the position when General Ironwood had offered it to them, and while there was still a lot to worry about, everyone was glad to have some of the pressure taken off of them. Unfortunately, however, the lowered stress and extra free time had given them an opportunity to concern themselves with things that absolutely did not require their attention, such as Ruby's love life.

Two weeks ago, Ruby had made the horrible mistake of confiding in Yang about her crush on Penny, which had resulted in most of the rest of their friends knowing about it too. Most of them were alright about it, but Yang and Nora were absolutely hellbent on playing matchmaker, and they weren't taking no for an answer.

Every single time one of them caught Ruby alone, they'd plead with her for permission to set up a date so everyone wouldn't have to watch her 'pining' anymore, and no matter how many times she said she didn't want to burden Penny with her feelings, they persisted. Eventually she'd started trying to avoid them altogether, which was a lot easier with Nora than it was with Yang, considering they shared a room.

On their second Friday living at Shade Academy, also the second Friday since Ruby had confided in her sister, Yang found Ruby alone in the dorm and made what felt like her millionth plea of the week.

"For the last time," Ruby snapped, flopping down on her bed. "I don't want you to set up a date! It'll just make everything awkward."

She was trying to keep her cool, but honestly, this was starting to piss her off. This was none of Yang's business, or Nora's for that matter. She didn't need their input.

"Oh, come on, Ruby!" Yang groaned, her voice laced with exasperation. "You have to know she's into you!"

"Give me one good reason to believe she actually likes me back." Ruby retorted, rolling her eyes as Yang let out a dry laugh.

"I'll give you ten reasons," she said confidently. "You two are basically attached at the hip, she gets that little pouty face every time she gets told she can't pair with you for combat training, you literally share a bed-"

"Only because there weren't enough beds when we moved in!" Ruby quickly sat up, warmth rushing to her face.

"Yeah, but when Blake and I starting sharing, I asked Penny if she wanted my old bed and she just about cried." Yang replied. "Unless you want to sit here and argue that all of that is platonic, you know she likes you back. So why won't you just talk to her about it?"

"Look," Ruby sighed. "Even if you're right, I just don't want to give her anything else to worry about. She just lost her home, she's still getting used to being the Winter Maiden, and now she has all this human stuff to deal with. She needs my support right now, and I don't want to accidentally push her away."

Yang's expression softened at that, and she slowly crossed the room to sit down beside Ruby.

"I get that," she said quietly, suddenly much more sympathetic than frustrated. "And I know I'm being kind of pushy, but I don't want you to miss out. This could be your only chance for a while to actually go on dates and have fun with her."

Ruby let out another, heavier sigh and leaned back onto her hands, tilting her face toward the ceiling.

Yang was right. They might have a respite now, but Salem could show up any day. This chance to be students again wasn't going to last forever. They were getting to be kids one last time, and that would be over the moment Salem made herself known again. Then there would be no dates or time to worry about feelings, probably just regrets if she didn't do this now.

"What do I even say to her?" she asked quietly. "I've never liked someone like this before. What if I screw something up?"

"Just be honest with her." Yang put an arm around Ruby's shoulders and gave her a gentle squeeze. "Tell her how you feel, ask her if she wants to go out, and let Nora and I take care of the rest. We'll find a nice place for you to go, and I'll tell you everything I know about impressing girls."

She winked good-naturedly and released Ruby, who then took a deep breath and stood. She didn't feel even remotely prepared for this, but there was a decent chance it could be now or never.

"I'm gonna go see if I can find her." Ruby decided, steeling herself. She made her way toward the door, giving her sister a nervous grin over her shoulder as she left. "Wish me luck."

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

Ruby found Penny an hour later in Shade's library, sitting at one of the tables with a pile of books. From the looks of it, she'd been here a while, possibly making her way through a series.

"Hey," Ruby said quietly as she reached Penny's table. "What are you reading?"

Penny glanced up, looking mildly startled.

"Oh, it's just a fantasy story," she replied sheepishly, lowering the book in her hands. "It's a bit silly, but I've never had time to just sit and read before. I'm finding it quite enjoyable!"

"That's good." Ruby smiled and took a seat across from Penny, clasping her hands anxiously in her lap. "Sorry if I'm interrupting you or anything, I just wanted to ask you something."

"Of course." Penny put her book down and leaned forward attentively.

"I was just wondering if, um..." Ruby squeezed her fingers, trying to steady her voice long enough to get the question out. "If you wanted to... go out with me sometime? Like, on a date? I-If not, it's totally cool, I just... y'know..."

Penny blinked at her slowly, and Ruby shrank back as much as the chair would allow her to.

"A date?" Penny inquired.

"Yeah," Ruby replied, her face burning. Dear God please let her know what a date is, she thought frantically. "I really like you, like more than just a friend. I've been wanting to tell you for a while, but I was scared of making you uncomfortable, but then I realized that with everything going on I might not get another chance for a while, and- Penny?"

Caught up in her rant, it had taken Ruby far to long to realize that Penny wasn't listening to her. Instead, she was just staring blankly, her expression completely unreadable.

"Are you okay?" Ruby leaned across the table and waved her hand in front of Penny's face. "Are you bluescreening?"

Back when she'd had a mechanical body, Penny had occasionally 'bluescreened' when struggling to process some new piece of information. She usually snapped out of it within a few minutes, so Ruby wasn't particularly concerned, but she had to admit she was surprised that Penny was still doing it even in a human body.

"Yes." Penny said suddenly, shaking herself a bit.

"I- what?"

"Yes, I will go on a date with you." Penny clarified, her face turning slightly pink. "I like you too, quite a lot."

"Really?" Ruby's shoulders sagged with relief, and she couldn't help the grin spreading across her face.

"Of course." Penny said with a little smile. "I would have said something much sooner if I had thought you might feel the same way."

"How could I not?" Ruby asked softly. "You're so sweet and beautiful and kind. It was kind of impossible not to fall in love with you."

Penny's blush intensified, and she looked away bashfully.

"You are all of those things too." she replied, her voice quiet and shy.

Ruby chuckled softly, then straightened herself and cleared her throat before either them could get any more flustered.

"So," she went on. "I was thinking maybe we could do dinner tomorrow around six? Or, well, Yang was thinking that, but I have no idea how to plan dates so I'm just listening to what she says."

"That sounds perfect." Penny said enthusiastically.

"Great," Ruby smiled and rose from her seat. "I'll let you get back to your reading. See you tomorrow."

Ruby turned to leave, barely hearing Penny's quiet "Goodnight," as she rushed out of the library. The moment the doors slammed shut behind her, she let out a loud, shaky laugh. She'd done it. She'd actually done it. She'd managed to land herself a date, and now all she had to do was survive it.

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

Penny had to admit, she'd been surprised to hear that her best friend had a crush on her. Delighted, of course, but so very surprised. She'd been planning to keep her own feelings a secret forever, lest Ruby find them unusual or inappropriate, but that was no longer necessary. Ruby shared the same feelings, and apparently they were quite normal.

It was a relief to know that, but Penny couldn't say that all of her anxieties had been quelled. According to Ruby, the next step after confessing their feelings was going on a date together, a concept with which Penny was not particularly familiar. She had a basic idea of how it was supposed to work, but she wasn't sure of the correct way to behave or what she was supposed to say while they were out.

Penny had gone to Nora with these concerns, hoping for some friendly advice, and had been promptly and quite literally dragged into Team JNPR's dorm room for a pre-date pep talk.

"You really don't have all that much to worry about." Nora said as she worked on lacing up the back of Penny's dress. It was quite similar to one she'd worn to Beacon's dance; light green, knee-length, and very soft. She'd borrowed it from an upperclassman named Velvet, who she knew by association due to her team's friendship with Team RWBY.

"But what if I say something wrong?" Penny asked anxiously, running her fingers through her hair. She'd already brushed through it twice, but perhaps one more time couldn't hurt.

"What would you say wrong?" Nora inquired as she finished with the dress. "You two are already friends, so you don't have to deal with any of that 'getting to know each other' business. Just go and have fun. And make sure you laugh at all her jokes."

"All of them?" Penny echoed unenthusiastically. Her sense of humor was quite different from the majority of her friends, and she sometimes had trouble discerning whether something was a joke. How would she know what to laugh at?

"Unless they're offensive or something, but it's Ruby so I doubt that." Nora shrugged and grabbed a bit of Penny's hair, gently fluffing it out. "Think you're ready?"

"Maybe?" Penny replied. "Do I look presentable?"

"You're gorgeous, Pebbles." Nora turned Penny around so they were face to face, placing two firm, comforting hands on her friend's shoulders. "Everything's gonna be fine, okay? You've gone places with Ruby hundreds of times; just act how you normally would."

"Okay." Penny nodded. She could do that.

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

The restaurant Penny had been invited to was a small café hardly a stone's throw from Shade's campus. From what Penny could tell, it seemed to be primarily frequented by the school's students, as the majority of the people sitting in the outdoor area were wearing school uniforms.

Of the three that were not, one was Ruby, clad in a black top and bright red skirt that just barely reached her knees. She spotted Penny from her table near the café's front window and waved her over with a shy smile.

"Hey," she greeted softly as Penny approached. "You look really nice."

"As do you." Penny replied politely, sincerely hoping that the grin on her face didn't look too silly. She stood there awkwardly for a moment before taking a seat, leaning forward so their table's umbrella could better protect her fair skin from the sun.

For a good two minutes, they sat there in silence, Ruby seemingly avoiding eye contact and Penny quietly fidgeting while she tried to think of something to say.

"This place is pretty cool, right?" Ruby offered at last, glancing in Penny's direction.

"I think it's quite hot, actually." Penny replied. Ruby let out a soft chuckle, and she quickly realized her mistake. "Oh! You meant- yes, it's very cool."

Penny briefly averted her gaze as her face grew warm, but she was saved from any further embarrassment by the arrival of a tired-looking waitress.

"Have you two decided on anything?" she asked, placing two glasses of water down on the table. As she did so, she fixed Penny with the same vaguely suspicious look every Atlesian refugee had been receiving from the locals.

It wasn't entirely uncalled for, considering everything her nation had done to theirs, but it made her uncomfortable nonetheless.

"Um..." Penny glanced down at the menu, eager to get the waitress's eyes off of her. Impulsively, she ordered the first thing she saw. "The fried scorpion, please."

"I'll have the same." Ruby said immediately.

"Interesting choice." The waitress remarked as she took their menus. 'For a couple of outsiders' was implied.

Penny watched her walk away, mildly dreading the sight of what she would return with.

"What the hell did we just order?" Ruby mumbled, so softly that Penny couldn't be entirely certain the words were for her.

"It will likely be fine," she answered anyway. "Scorpion is a common dish here."

"Yeah, I guess." Ruby replied, once again avoiding eye contact. Penny's brow furrowed and she leaned a bit closer to her date over the table.

Ruby seemed remarkably uncomfortable, wringing her hands and glancing about as if searching for a way out of the situation. Did she not want to be here? Had Penny done something wrong?

If so, she hadn't the slightest clue what her mistake could have been, but relationships were so complicated that she wouldn't be surprised if she'd broken some unspoken rule. Perhaps she'd missed a joke she was supposed to laugh at, or-

"Penny?"

Penny was jolted out of her thoughts, only just realizing that Ruby was waving a hand in front of her face. She blinked hard, mildly startled.

"Are you okay?" Ruby asked gently.

"Yes," Penny said with a quick nod. "Yes, I'm fine."

"You've got to stop bluescreening on me." Ruby gave her a small, kind smile. "What were you trying to figure out?"

Penny hesitated briefly. She almost didn't want to say it for fear that she might be right. Yet again, if she had somehow messed up the date, she wanted to know what she'd done wrong.

"It's just..." she began eventually. "You seem as if you don't want to be here. I was wondering if maybe I did something wrong? Or if you regret asking me out?"

"Of course not!" Ruby's eyes widened in mild alarm. "What made you think that?"

"You just seem so uncomfortable." For emphasis, Penny mimicked the hand-wringing motion Ruby had been doing. "I was worried you thought this was a mistake."

"God, no," Ruby reached across the table and gently took Penny's hands in her own. "You didn't do anything wrong, Penny. Asking you out was not a mistake."

She brushed her thumbs along the backs of Penny's hands; an intimate gesture, if Penny remembered correctly.

"I think letting someone else plan this for us might have been a mistake, though." Ruby admitted. "I don't think I'm really a dinner date person."

"What do you mean?" Penny inquired.

"I mean this all feels a little... stuffy, I guess." Ruby shrugged. "I don't like sitting here in formalwear trying to make awkward conversation with a bunch of other people around. This doesn't feel like us, y'know?"

"I think I understand." Penny nodded slowly. She had to admit, this wouldn't have been her first choice of venue either. "What do you think would feel like us?"

"Do you remember that night with the fireflies?" Ruby asked. Penny nodded again, a small smile spreading across her face. "That felt like us. It was just you and me having fun, enjoying nature and stuff."

"That was a very special night," Penny agreed fondly. "But I do not believe we would be able to recreate it here. As far as I know, no species of a firefly is native to Vacuo."

"It doesn't have to be exactly the same." Ruby seemed thoughtful for a moment, quietly drumming her fingers on the table. "What if we went up on the roof of Shade's dorms? We could be alone and just enjoy each other's company."

"I like the sound of that." Penny almost stood up, but suddenly remembered that they'd already ordered. Would it be considered rude to leave?

"It's alright," Ruby seemed to read Penny's mind as she rose from her seat. "I don't think it counts as dining and dashing if we haven't gotten our food yet."

Penny supposed that made sense. She hesitated a moment longer before standing up, glad that she wouldn't have to see that waitress again. Ruby extended her arm, and Penny linked it with her own as they began walking away from the restaurant. As soon as they'd cleared the tables, Ruby visibly relaxed.

"This already feels better," she remarked.

"It does." Penny agreed. They walked together in silence for a few minutes, Penny's face growing warm as an unfamiliar sensation spread throughout her body.

Suddenly overtaken with boldness, Penny leaned over and pressed her lips to Ruby's cheek, holding them there for a moment before slowly pulling away. Ruby's eyes widened in surprise, but she didn't seem at all bothered.

"Was that... okay?"

"It was more than okay," Ruby replied, glancing over at Penny with a smile. "That was perfect."

"It seems our night has been salvaged." Penny smiled back at her, faltering briefly as Ruby rested her head on her shoulder.

"Yeah," she said, her warm breath tickling the skin of Penny's neck. "It has."

If you enjoyed this piece, please consider reblogging to share it with others and help the post gain a bit of traction! It would absolutely make my day and make the three months I spent trying to finish this feel worth it!

#rwby #penny polendina #ruby rose #nuts n dolts #nuts and dolts #catch me begging for reblogs at the end of every post lmao

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scoobydoofenshmirtz · 4 years ago

Text

The Horny Cinematography of Seasons 4 and 5 of Supernatural

So I made this kinda silly post about how horny the late Kripke era of Supernatural was and it was mostly meant as a joke, but then it got me thinking. So I did a little bit of digging, went through some memorable scenes, and noticed some actual patterns in the way Dean and Castiel are shot versus other characters. Disclaimer: this is not exactly a scientific analysis. I didn’t rewatch the entire two seasons for this and there are probably shots with other characters that I missed that go against it, but this is just the general trend that I noticed.

Click on the images for higher resolution. Analysis is under the cut.

So the general premise of this analysis is that Cas and Dean are shot noticeably close-up, typically staring intensely into each other’s eyes. I think we all know about the whole staring thing, but the actual close-ups were way more intense then I think some people might realize, especially when compared to other interactions between different characters. Cas in particular is shot very close-up frequently whether he’s talking to someone else or by himself (there are so many gorgeous close-ups of Misha in season 4), but the intense eye contact is pretty much only with Dean.

It starts off almost immediately in 4x01 Lazarus Rising where in Dean and Castiel’s very first interaction, they stand very close and the camera focuses on their faces. First we have two close-ups, then in what is maybe my favorite shot in all of Supernatural, Castiel steps in closer to Dean and the close-ups get even tighter. He tilts his head and stares thoughtfully at Dean with those big blue eyes. Cut to Dean’s look of discomfort after being told (very accurately) “you don’t think you deserve to be saved.”

Things amp up in literally Castiel’s second appearance in 4x02 Are You There God? It’s Me, Dean Winchester with one of the horniest Destiel scenes in the show (again this is only their second interaction!) We have Castiel unexpectedly showing up at Bobby’s house, Dean sassing him, and Castiel stepping very close to Dean and saying “You should show me some respect. I dragged you out of Hell. I can throw you back in.” This is a very tense interaction with some beautiful low key lighting that pretty much went extinct after season 5. Notice how tight the frame is, even compared to 4x01. These are extreme close-ups where both Dean and Castiel’s chins and foreheads are cut out of the frame.

Castiel’s third appearance in 4x03 In the Beginning is a lot more prominent as he has many scenes throughout the episode instead of just one. I’m not gonna include pictures of all of them because there’s lot, but there are plenty of close-ups and intense gazes between the two (e.g. sitting on the bed, “Hello Dean. What were you dreaming about?” which according to Misha, Kim manners said was “too gay” but they did it like that anyway) and contains the first time they touch and the first time they are shot in more high key lighting. Go rewatch the episode if you want to see more lovely close-ups between Dean and Cas.

Next I would like to draw your attention to episode 4x07 It’s the Great Pumpkin, Sam Winchester. This is Castiel’s fourth appearance and the first time we see him interact with a character who’s not Dean. This is where the differences between how they’re shot start to become apparent. First we have Sam’s first interaction with Castiel (greetings blood freak) that is shot with standard close-ups. Eventually, Dean comes in, conversation happens blah blah blah and we get to the more intense discussion about how the angels want to destroy the town. The discussion is between Dean, Cas, Sam, and Uriel, but Dean and Cas get most of the focus. The camera tells us that they are the main subjects in this scene. Dean and Cas are shot more close-up and tighter and they are standing closer and looking in each others eyes unlike Sam who is looking back and forth between them and standing a few steps back.

Of course this doesn’t stop in season 4. Here is a similar example from 5x02 Good God, Ya’ll! but the difference between Dean and Cas and Sam is even more obvious. This is the “I'm hunted, I rebelled, and I did it, all of it, for you,” exchange which I find interesting. Some people could say here that Cas means “you” plural as in Sam and Dean but the Camera is so focused on just Dean and Cas while Sam just sorta hangs there in the background.

One thing that I think is interesting is that these types of shots-extreme close-ups with two characters looking into each other’s eyes and standing no feet apart-are not necessarily exclusive to Dean and Cas, but they are usually in a different context. Pretty much all (at least that I could remember) the other examples of this type of shot are between one character and a villain. Below we have three fairly intense confrontations between characters, Sam and Uriel in 4x07 It’s the Great Pumpkin, Sam Winchester, Dean and Alastair in 4x16 On the Head of a Pin, and Dean and Cas in 4x22 Lucifer Rising. The composition is almost exactly the same with similar lighting as well, but one of these things is not like the other. Very obviously Cas is not a villain and this scene in particular is a huge moment for his character that cements his decision to fully rebel against Heaven for Dean.

Also characters that tend to be that close together looking into each other’s eyes in two shots are usually villains except for Dean and Cas. Below we have a shot of Ruby and Sam very close together right before he drinks her blood and a very close-up shot of Dean and Alastair both in 4x16 On the Head of a Pin. Compare that to the two shot from 4x02 Are You There God? It’s Me, Dean Winchester above for example. There is a certain sexual nature in these two villain scenes (and a lot of villain interactions on Supernatural in general). Obviously, Sam and Ruby are literally having sex, but Alastair is also portrayed as a villain who sexually objectifies his victims (the torture scene with Ruby, calling Dean “Daddy’s little girl, etc.) but Cas is not a villain and yet the framing is very similar.

Now I want to compare two fight scenes, one in season 4 and one in season 5. Here we have the fight scene between Ruby and Sam in 4x09 I Know What You Did Last Summer. Ruby is of course a sexy lady who Sam sleeps with in a sexy fight scene where she “proves” that she wants to help Sam by killing the other demon instead of Sam. But of course, the fight scene in 5x18 Point of No Return is shot way more close-up and Dean and Cas are inches away from each other. While I wouldn’t described this scene as “sexy” (Cas is literally beating Dean to a pulp) it is way more charged...intimate isn’t exactly the right word but there’s a similar but more intense erotic energy than in the fight scene with Ruby.

Unrelated side note: there is a great use of breaking the 180 degree rule in this scene that I think works way better in this instance at disorienting the viewer than the shaky cam does.

Next I have some random examples I noticed that show some of the different shots between characters. We have Anna in 4x10 Heaven and Hell right before she has sex with Dean. It’s fairly close-up, but still pretty loose framing compared to a lot of scenes between Dean and Cas. Anna’s entire face is still in the frame. Then we have a scene between Sam and Ruby in 4x09 I Know What You Did Last Summer that is also not as close-up as a lot of Dean and Cas scenes. On the bottom is a shot from 5x17 99 Problems which is I think the closest Sam and Cas physically get in these seasons before they ever hug. It’s more of a medium close-up than most of the scenes between Dean and Cas where they get that close. Lastly I have probably the tightest close-ups between Dean and Cas from 4x16 On the Head of a Pin. It’s similar to the shots from 4x02 but the context is pretty different with Cas trying to reassure Dean about the apocalypse. I know these don’t really have a theme but I thought they were good examples of the general pattern.

Finally I would like to point out a scene that is sort of the opposite which is the infamous staring scene in 4x21 When the Levee Breaks that goes on for like an hour. I don’t really know what to say about this scene only that I can’t believe it’s real. They literally just stand and stare at each other.

So what’s the point of all this? I honestly don’t really know. None of these observations are hard and fast rules and I’m sure there are times when other characters are shot like this. However, Dean and Cas seem to be the only ones consistently framed this way-tight close-ups, staring into each other’s eyes standing zero feet apart. What does it all mean? To me it shows that their bond is unique and special (profound you might say). It’s not even like they’re shot in a similar manner to love interests, it’s that their framing is unique, it stands out. Was it on purpose? Maybe. How shots end up looking is interesting because it really is the work of a lot of different people including the director, the cinematographer, the editors and more. I don’t think they were thinking “we should film Dean and Cas in this very intense way because they’re in love” or anything, but they obviously recognized there was something special between these two characters. And truly, the intentions don’t matter all that much to me. What’s there is there, and watching it the first time around I noticed how close Dean and Cas always were and watching it back post 15x18 all those shots stand out even more to me. There’s really no conclusion here, but I think it’s interesting to look a bit more closely at the cinematography in TV shows that we don’t always think of as having the highest quality production. There’s a lot of layers to be discovered outside of scripts and acting and things we tend to focus on more as viewers.

#destiel #spn meta #supernatural #the cinnamon tography #yes i went to film school and this is what im doing now

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despressolattes · 4 years ago

Note

Soooo, I was scrolling through Bakugou angst hashtag and I found that SOMEBODY 👀 wanted some requests... So here I am :3 💖💖 I couldn't find rules sooo sorry if I break one, also if it's too much characters, just choose from them 💖 Can I get Bakugou, Hawks and Denki if they cheated? 💖 Some scenarios about them cheating and their s/o finding out and breaking up with them? And make it really sad? 💖💖 Thank you :3 💖 Make sure to drink enough water and get enough rest 💖 Have a great day 💖

CHARACTERS: Katsuki Bakugou x reader

a/n: sorry, i just started watching the show last week and have yet to get to see hawks! i also feel like i haven’t seen enough of kaminari to write about him, so for now, this will just be bakugou! once i see more of those two i’ll write one for them!

WARNINGS: cheating, angst

•─────────°❋❀°─────────•

DON’T GO DESTROYING PEOPLE’S PERSPECTIVES ON LOVE; katsuki bakugou

You had known Katsuki Bakugou for as long as you could remember. The two of you went to the same grade school, and then the same junior high. Despite not being friends with the explosive boy:—quirk and temper wise—at that age, you watched him grow from the sidelines. You watched as Izuku Midoriya went from one of his childhood friends/admirers to someone Bakugou couldn’t stand the sight of.

You watched as his inflated ego burned the dedication of beating anyone and everyone into him.

You watched.

It was when he found out that you were applying to U.A high for the Hero Program that he started to pay attention to you. Your quirk had been the opposite of his: you could manipulate water in any of its three forms.

He paid attention to how you racked up points at the Battle Trials, he paid attention to you when you ended up in Mr. Aisawa’s class together and had to go through the weird first-day of school quirk assessment tests together.

He paid attention.

And watching and paying attention slowly became asking one another to spar together, sparing together turned into talking, talking turned into walking to class together, and walking to class together turned into hanging out at each other’s house’s to do school work.

And THAT turned into the development of feelings. From Kirishima noticing that you two were always together at school and asking Bakugou about it just a tad bit too loud, piquing the interest of your fellow classmates. Mina then wanted to know everything about what was going on, and Ochako insisted that she was there for you if you ever wanted to talk.

Todoroki, who seemed like he somewhat possessed both yours and Bakugou’s quirks, just in the form of ice and fire, nonchalantly added that he saw you two together outside of school.

Oh how you and Bakugou both wanted to hit Mr. Half-n-Half for that subtle comment, said in his normal monotonous voice, acting like he had no care in the world.

“Yeah? And why the hell are you even looking at me and Y/N, huh, Icy-Hot?” Bakugou barks at him, and Todoroki merely looks away, acting uninterested in the conversation.

•─────────°❋❀°─────────•

You suppose reminiscing on your U.A days together wasn’t the best decision to be making as you packed your bags. Standing at the foot of your bed—old bed—with your luggage on top, piling clothes into it, you had to gulp back tears that threatened to spill.

You heard the door to your apartment—old apartment—open, and you instantaneously tensed. You had hoped that you could get out of the apartment before Katsuki got home, but apparently nothing could go your way.

“Hey, Y/N?” you heard Bakugou’s voice call out from either the living room or kitchen, sounding a bit grumpy, which was his default tone anyways.

You stilled, not daring to say anything.

“She left a note? Silly woman?” you heard him mumble to himself, and you realized he was now looking at the farewell letter you had left on the coffee table.

It almost broke your heart to hear him say silly woman. Bakugou’s vocabulary almost always consisted of insults and curse words, but he tended to substitute his normal vulgar language for something more tender if it was directed at you. Now, if he was speaking to Kirishima, he’d probably get called a shitty man.

Tears fells rapidly down your face, and you held your hand to your mouth to try to muffle any sobs.

“What the—” you heard Bakugou curse, and an explosion followed. You could already imagine the crumpled up letter in ashes and scorched.

“Like hell she thinks—”

His footsteps vibrated through the apartment, and you knew he was making his way towards the bedroom. Unsure if he knew you were home or not, you quickly manipulated the tears on your face to the door, freezing the lock.

As if that would do anything, you scoffed to yourself, really hating the fact that Bakugou could easily melt the ice or just blow up the entire door.

“Y/N?!” Bakugou’s voice was frantic when he realized you were home on the other side of the door. “You silly woman, open this damn door and talk to me!”

He wiggled on it a few times, pounding on it.

You didn’t answer, and frantically closed your luggage. You glanced around, seeing nothing else you needed. The rest of them could be repurchased if you were to just leave now.

You looked at the window, at the jump it would be to get to the floor from your fourth floor apartment. It was a good thing you were a hero trained for stunts like this.

“Goddamit,” Bakugou grumbled. “If you’re near the door, stand back, I’m blasting it to shreds.”

But you weren’t by the door, before you were jumping out of your old bedroom window with your suitcase in your arms and tears flying down your face. Bakugou ran to the window, watching as you ran down the street, not even stopping to look at him.

His eyes drooped, and he watched you go, replaying the words in your note over and over again.

“Katsuki,

If you’re reading this, then I’ve made my leave from the place we once shared together and called home. I suppose you’re out right now, with that girl. You know the one I’m talking about. The same one I saw you with last month while I was grocery shopping, and I brushed it off as a fan or civilian who had borrowed a few moments of your time. Then, it seemed as if you grew more distant from me. Always on your phone, always distracted, always with a guilty look behind your ruby eyes.

Then, I saw you with her a few more times, but again, I tried to push the image of you to the back of my head because who said you can’t make new friends?

The image I couldn’t push to the back of my head was the image I had yesterday, walking into the apartment around noon to surprise you with lunch on your day off. You had expected I’d be out all day, and there you were, asleep on our bed with a woman who was not me, letting her sleep on my side and letting her cuddle up to the man who was mine. Mine since high school. Mine since the days when he was intolerable to most of our classmates, but I saw through his angry demeanor and tried to pour and push and shove as much love into his sorry personality as I could.

And all of our friends had thought I had done a good job. I guess I didn’t do as good a job as I thought.

But how dare you? I’m not saying that I deserve to be loved back all because I loved you, but I did deserve more than being half-loved. I deserved more than being loved just enough to not want to leave, but seeing someone else on the side. I deserved more than this deception and betrayal.

If my best was no longer good enough for you, you should’ve told me instead of allowing another person in our home.

Don’t go destroying other people’s perception of love just because you no longer feel any for them. I wish you had just broken up with me instead.

So, I’m the one that’s leaving, and like you, I’m offering you no chance to talk about it. Just like you gave me no chance of talking about what to do with our relationship when you began falling out of love with me.

I think I might always love you, Katsuki,

But today, I am going to do what you couldn’t, and love me more.”

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kanonsarchivedblog · 3 years ago

Text

Might Be Onto Somethin' (Kiss Me More)

Word Count: 2142 Rating: E Character(s): Mitsuri Kanroji Ships: None; Mentions of Rengoku Kyōjurō, Iguro Obanai, Sanemi Shinazugawa Genre: Smut Author's Notes: I... Have no excuse other than the fact that Mitsuri is cute and she deserves so much love. And many partners. Give her all of the partners please. She has so much love to give- This can also be read over on my ao3! ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ The perks of having your own portion of the compound meant the peace and quiet that came with it. It was nice to be able to just relax, to not have to worry about being walked in on. A nice soak in the hot spring had been well earned! A trim to the ends of her hair to get rid of any split ends and to keep the long layers still looking good, and then a bit of skin care! Mitsuri was even able to paint her nails! And her toe nails!

Evening was falling, the sounds of laughter coming from her siblings filling the air as she closed the shoji. Dinner was already done; they would all be retiring to their own spaces soon enough. Summer was in full swing, the heat of the day melting away, though that didn’t mean it still wasn’t warm- too warm to wear proper clothes. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d stripped out of her dinner kimono so quickly; she took a moment to simply stand in the nude, enjoying the slight cool breeze that drifted through the room from an open window.

Open window. Naked. Oh, no!

A squeak escaped her as she grabbed hold of a light cotton yukata, slipping it on to cover herself, cheeks growing rosy in embarrassment. What if someone had come by? And seen her? That would have been so awkward! What if it had been Tomioka-san? OR Shinobu-san? Oh, she wouldn’t have been able to look them in the eye! Or even Uzui-san!

… Or Rengoku-kun.

Or… Or Iguro-san…

Swallowing roughly, Kanroji turned on her heel and marched herself to her bedroom, chastising herself for even considering those thoughts. That- that wasn’t ladylike! Was it? No- yes? A groan slipped free as she flopped onto her futon, face pressed into the blankets. It wasn’t… Wrong to feel lust. She knew this. It also wasn’t wrong to feel love! And it… Wasn’t a bad thing to be attracted to people- to people she knew well! There wasn’t anything bad with that at all!

Kyōjurō had been her friend for years- they’d known each other long before they became Hashira. He’d been her teacher, even! And she’d watched as he grew- as they both grew! Cheeks tinting with an emotion she couldn’t quite place, she rolled over onto her back, staring up at her ceiling. Her window was open in here, too; from there, she could see down the hill to where the Rengoku compound sat.

Her gaze drifted to the window, watching as clouds began to drift across the night sky, the stars peeking out from behind clouds occasionally. It wasn’t a bad thing to… Want. Everyone wanted something, someone- it was natural. Her thighs clenched, an unconscious movement that drew a soft gasp out. Her eyes slid shut, the battle beginning to wane in her mind. This was okay. It was! Especially with… How good it would feel, oh- oh, it would feel good.

“This is okay,” she decided, speaking softly to the empty bedroom. Pushing herself up, she glanced around- as if making sure she was truly alone. Which was silly- of course she was alone! She would have heard if someone came in. A giddy smile curled her lips as she settled back down against her pillows, nimble fingers quickly undoing the tie that held the yukata together, allowing for the fabric to shift.

Her eyes slid shut as she drew in a slow, nervous breath. It wasn’t as if she never touched herself- she did, more often than she really wanted to admit. The tint in her cheeks darkened as she squeezed her thighs together again, creating a gentle sort of pressure that had a sigh slipping free. A hand raised- not her own, not in her mind, no, this hand was much larger than her own, somehow still so soft despite wielding a wicked blade- and came to peel away the yukata, baring her naked form to the room. She was proud of her physique- she was soft, her tummy softer than her fellow Hashira, but beneath that layer of softness was muscle she’d always had, would always have. She liked it- liked having soft hips, a soft tummy, soft thighs.

Iguro-san liked her thighs. He’d complimented her on them a few days ago- when they’d all been granted time off to have their blades sharpened. It had been an idle comment in a conversation with Shinobu-san, who had brought up the idea of a lighter fabric for their summer uniforms. They’d all agreed- it would be nice not to smother in the heavy, dark fabric. Tengen had mentioned how it was smart to have a uniform like her own- a skirt, which did mean she was able to cool off faster than her companions.

The conversation had drifted, which let Obanai murmur close to her ear that he enjoyed her uniform quite a bit- after all, it allowed him to see her beautiful thighs. It had made her blush, had made her squeeze her thighs together and hide a smile.

“Iguro-san,” she sighed out, hand drifting lower, nails ghosting against the skin of a thigh before digging in in a way that gave both pain and pleasure- something she was certain he would enjoy. Something he would do. “Please…”

He wasn’t the only one who looked- she would never admit it aloud, but she caught Kyōjurō looking at her chest a few times, his gaze soft, lids heavy before he caught himself and looked away, cheeks rosy. She thought it was cute! She was more than aware of her bust- it caused her problems at times, especially if she couldn’t bind the proper way before a mission. But oh…

A hand cupped her left breast, fingers squeezing the soft flesh. She pictured the hand to be larger, much larger and warmer, massaging and squeezing, pinching at her nipples just so, drawing out a soft squeal because oh, that’s sensitive! “Kyo-” she whined, head turning to the side, thighs parting as the hand shifted to the other, giving it the same treatment. “Sensitive,” she whispered, though she didn’t hear her own voice- the rasp of another, of a tongue drifting across her nipple, of silver hair and wild eyes.

The hand on her thigh slipped upward, dragging sharp nails along the inside of her thigh. It sent a shock through her system, her legs jolting with the pleasure it drew forth. “Iguro-san!” She gasped, and for a moment, she swore she heard a chuckle- his chuckle, but it only made her hand settle over herself, adrenaline and lust mingling in her veins. Her toes curled as she slipped her middle finger between her folds, surprised to find herself already wet. Then again-

She had been excited for days now, hadn’t had time to handle this.

Oh, but the finger pressing against a bundle of nerves drew her from her thoughts quickly, a moan drifting into the open air of the bedroom at the relief that brief touch gave. Her eyes opened, blinking in the darkness of her bedroom, the images dispelling for a moment.

Toy. She needed something. She needed to be filled- to feel full. It wasn’t as if she could just… Go get the real thing! No, instead she rolled over, grabbing an ornate box that looked as if it should hold jewelry, and tugged it closer. It was inconspicuous; no one would ever think of what it would hold. The toy itself was a good replica of the real thing, thicker near the base, thinner towards the top with a flared head. The material used was soft so as to not cause discomfort- perfect for her, considering how sensitive she could be sometimes. And tonight was certainly one of those times.

Rolling back onto her bed, she took hold of another pillow and slid it down, settling it beneath her rear. Eyes closing once more, images flooded back to the forefront of her mind. The toy pressed to her lips, and if she thought hard enough, she could imagine it having heat along with the weight it held. Her lips parted, the toy slipping in, her tongue curling around the head before she forced her jaw to relax. She’d never admit it out loud, but she’d trained herself with this toy, her throat relaxing. Fingers of another hand drifted low, gathering the slickness that had formed between her lower lips before slipping inside, drawing out a whine around the toy. Her brows furrowed as she tried to time the thrusts with the toy in her mouth, brushing against that one spot every now and then.

In her mind, it wasn’t her fingers in her, or a toy in her mouth- no, the fingers belonged to a man with golden and ruby hair who pressed kisses to her thighs as he opened her up and tore her apart, as he coaxed her closer and closer to the edge with his delicate touches. In her mouth sat the cock of the Snake Pillar, thrusting slowly, deeply, fucking her face.

Too close, too close- she pulled her fingers free and slipped the toy from her mouth with a whine, head falling back. Not yet, she didn’t want to stop yet. Licking her lips, she readjusted, bringing the toy down to settle between her lips, rocking slowly, the head nudging against her clit with each rock until she couldn’t handle it, slipping the toy inside slowly, a hiss slipping free at the stretch. It wasn’t painful, not in the least- no, it felt good, wonderfully so. She whined, nose scrunching up as it bottomed out. She took a moment to adjust, shifting her hips to get a more comfortable angle.

A hand settled at her breasts once more, groping, teasing as she began to move her hand. “Oh,” she whispered, brows furrowing, “yes- yes, like that! I like that, please, yes,” she began to babble as the toy sped up- no, not a toy. Obanai was between her thighs, Kyōjurō behind her, holding her, his hands on her chest as Obanai used her. “Harder, harder, harder- please, I’ve been a good girl!” She whined, lost to her fantasy. “Obanai- Obanai, please.”

'Only good girls get to cum. Are you sure you've been good?' The phantom image asked, voice gruff- Oh. Oh, that would be Sanemi.

“I have!” She squealed, hips rising as the toy began to hit that one spot dead center. “I have, I’ve been good! ‘Nemi, ‘Nemi!” She whined, body moving with the force she used. “Kyo- Oba- oh, there, there, there, don’t stop!”

'We won't stop,' Kyo’s voice whispered in her ear as his fingers played with her nipple, twisting, pinching, massaging. 'Not until you're sobbing and making a mess for us.'

“Fuck me!” She pleaded, something so vulgar that, had she not been in such a worked up state, would have embarrassed her. “Please! I’m a good girl! I’m your good girl! Fuck me, please, God- Obanai, you feel so good! So good in me, so good, yes, yes, 𝘺𝘦𝘴!”

'Gonna be a good girl and cum for me?' Obanai asked, panting. 'Cum on my cock like a good girl, Mitsuri?'

“Yes, yes- Obanai, Ob-” She clamped a hand over her mouth to muffle her scream as she tumbled over the edge, legs twitching, chest heaving as she kept fucking herself. “Harder, harder, please-” she begged, working herself higher and higher up before her hand stopped, body stilling. Tears spilled free, trailing down her cheeks as she removed her hand from her mouth, panting harshly. Wet- very… Wet? Blinking to clear her vision, Mitsuri shifted her hips.

Oh.

Oh!

“Oh, no- that’s- that’s new, oh dear, oh no,” she whispered, pulling the toy free so that she could sit up and gawk at the wet… Puddle. That was a puddle. “OH-” She squeaked, cheeks red as strawberries as she realized what she’d done. She couldn’t stand to clean off her bed- not yet, anyway. She’d clean the blankets and sheets tomorrow, but that poor pillow… “At least you were already ready to be tossed,” she murmured, a giggle bubbling up.

She settled back down on a clean portion of her bed, body relaxing. Sanemi? Kyo? And Obanai? Oh, my! She covered her face with her hands and let out a soft squeal. How would she look them in the eye tomorrow! She shifted, staring at the window- were her eyes playing tricks on her? Brows furrowing, she rose to her feet and stepped closer, poking her head out. No one was there.

Huh.

She could have sworn she’d seen golden and ruby hair. Strange.

Perhaps it was wishful thinking. Shrugging, she turned back to the mess she now had to clean up. Or…

“Or I could… Have some more fun?”

#kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #mitsuri kanroji #rengoku kyoujurou #sanemi shinaguzawa #iguro obanai #demon slayer smut #kny imagines #m's scribbles #not safe m&ms

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makoodlesarchive · 4 years ago

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when i was young i fell into a river

pairing: kirishima x reader

word count: 5k

warnings: none, really! a bit of angst, a bit of fluff i guess?

notes: hello, it's me, back again with some writing! it's been a long time and i'm very sorry about that, but i've finally gotten around to writing and posting my spirited away au! i'm v stressed with college so this turned out more vent-y than i had originally intended, but hopefully it's enjoyable anyway! thank you all for being so patient with me, i am endlessly grateful for you

The dream is the same as always, comforting in its familiarity.

A salt-scented breeze cools your sweat-soaked brow as you pause behind one of the sliding screen doors, the rice paper windows doing nothing to block out the chatter of the other workers. The bubbling noise of the bathhouse is constant, and the quiet little moments you steal away for yourself in the middle of the working day is the only solitude you’ve gotten since you came here. The work is physically back-breaking, but you know that you’re working towards a goal. It’s just a shame that you can’t remember exactly what that goal is.

One of the other girls calls your name, and you sigh as your unofficial break comes to an end. You slip back into the room, ignoring the way the frog spirits snicker and hold their noses as you pass. They like to complain a lot about your human stench, but it doesn’t stop them from threatening to eat you every time you make a mistake. Fear, you’ve found, is an uncomfortably successful motivator.

The days bleed into one another, full of scrubbing dark wooden floors and the rich earthy scents of the herbal mixes they use in the baths. The spirits that frequent the bathhouse, that once inspired so much awe and fear in your heart, become so commonplace that you hardly spare them a glance anymore. From the cackling masked spirits that always travel in threes to the grinning cat spirits to the sombre, unspeaking river spirits, you only go as far as to offer them a polite bow before scurrying out of their way. They never spare you any attention, anyway -- most of the time, the spirits’ eyes seem to look right through you.

All but one, that is.

He looks to be a boy around your age, but appearances can be deceiving around here. His red eyes are often dull and blank, but even so they have a certain ageless quality about them that no human twelve-year-old could ever possess. His scarlet hair sticks up in gravity-defying spikes, and his skin is as smooth and clear as running water. His face is often stuck in a carefully cultivated blank expression; the only thing about him that doesn’t seem intimidatingly otherworldly are the deep purple shadows under his eyes.

He helped you once, when you first came here. The rare act of kindness had stuck in your head, made even more remarkable in the face of the following weeks and months of harsh work and cruel co-workers. You wonder if he remembers; he doesn’t often look at you, but sometimes when he does you swear you can see a flicker of something in his eyes.

Two of the girls start yelling at each other, arguing heatedly over the way the work is being divided. A foreman appears to break up the fight, but then they both start shouting at him instead. You take the moment of distraction to relax, wincing at the pull of your tired muscles in the back of your neck. All the other girls working at the bath house are older and bigger than you, which means you need to work twice as hard to keep up with them and prove that you’re worth keeping around.

In the brief moment of rest, your eyes are drawn slowly to the corridor, where guests and workers alike bustle past as they travel to the treatment rooms and bathtubs deeper into the bathhouse. As if you’ve conjured him just by thinking about him, the boy stands in the doorway.

You straighten up on instinct, suddenly self-conscious of your sweat-soaked body and dishevelled uniform. He’s not even looking your way, preoccupied with the two girls who are still yelling at the frog foreman. Slowly though, his eyes began to travel the room, and you take a deep breath and hold it as his dull ruby gaze lands on you like a physical weight. You crack a nervous smile, feeling the muscles in your cheeks that have gone unused for weeks ache at the strain, and raise a hand to give him a tiny wave.

For just a moment, that blankness in his face seems to quiver and fall away. He smiles back.

You jolt awake, breathing heavily and coated in a light sheen of sweat. You’ve had the same dream, or some variation of it, regularly ever since you were twelve years old and while it’s become familiar to you, you still find yourself feeling vaguely panicked when you wake up after it, as though you’ve forgotten something very important.

Once your heartbeat has calmed down a little, you pull yourself out of bed and trudge into the kitchen to make yourself some tea. The weak, milky light of dawn filters in through the windows, lighting your apartment up just enough so that you don’t have to turn on a light to make your way around. You take your tea out to the balcony and sit, gazing out at the purplish early morning sky.

Most of the time when you wake up from those dreams you feel blessedly lucky to be living alone with no one to question or bother you, but sometimes you can’t help but be overcome by overwhelming loneliness. The dreams are silly and most of the time they don’t even make any sense, but in the aftermath of them you’re always left with a vague sense of unfulfillment, though you can’t put your finger exactly on what it is you’re missing. You always end up exactly like this; sitting outside on your balcony in the early morning light, drinking tea alone and desperately wishing for something more.

You sigh, and go back inside.

The dream is the same, but different.

The garden is in full bloom, greenery overlaid with bursts of beautiful bright colours. Camellias, rhododendrons, and oleanders wave and shiver gently in the warm breeze, and apple blossoms hang heavily from a nearby tree. The flowering garden is enormous and maze-like, and you have yet to see it in any state other than fully flourishing.

It’s a beautiful place, especially after the hot, cramped working quarters of the bathhouse. You inhale the sweetly fragranced air and feel the knot of tension in your spine unfurl; it feels like the first time that you’ve been able to breathe all week, but that’s not the only reason that you’ve found yourself outside.

At the bottom of the garden, the grass drops off into a sheer drop. The cliff face overlooks a seemingly endless ocean, and you perch a safe distance from the drop before leaning back in the grass. The sky is an almost surreally deep blue and you watch as enormous fluffy clouds float by, looking as though they’ve been painted on a jewel-blue canvas.

It’s not the first time you’ve had this dream, and you know what you’ll see if you keep patiently watching.

It doesn’t take long — it never does. You time your lunch breaks precisely, all so you get to see this sight.

The clear blue sky makes it so much easier to spot the shiny white scales, flashing jewel-bright in the sunlight. The dragon writhes in the sky, streaking through the air like a great serpent caught in the wind. Even from this distance, you can see the knife-like teeth, the great sharp claws that gleam like pyrite, and the twisting horns that erupt from his head like daggers made from calcified bone. He looks deadly, a living weapon that swims through the air like a salmon in open water, but the sight of him makes something settle in your stomach.

You wonder what it would feel like to fall through the air with nothing but the wind to break your fall. You imagine it must feel like freedom.

The dragon flutters through the air, buoyed by the gentle sea breeze. If you didn’t know better, you might almost think that he was showing off — his movements are hypnotic, dreamlike, more like a dance than anything. His scales glow pearlescent in the midday sun, otherworldly and earthly all at once.

You could happily stay and watch him skim through the sky forever, but already the bell is being rung to call all workers back into the bathhouse. You heave a sigh so deep it feels as though your chest is about to crack with the force of it, before hauling yourself to your feet.

Your break is over, and now it’s back to work.

Sometimes you find it difficult to tell when you’re dreaming and when you’re awake. It feels as though everything is always happening all at once, in the present tense, forever. You don’t get to rest when you close your eyes and drift off to sleep, because the dreams just keep coming and coming. Sometimes you don’t feel like your life is real when you’re awake.

Riding on the train has always been therapeutic, especially at this time of the early morning. The sun rising lazily over the horizon sends milky threads of purple and pink across the cloudy sky, and you cradle your chin in your hand as you gaze out across the moving landscape. You love these little trips, feeling more at home in the creaky, overfull train carriage than you do in your own bedroom sometimes, though you can’t quite work out where that particular feeling comes from.

You know sometimes that stories end with “And then I woke up — it was only a dream”, but in your experience the story simply doesn’t end. You cannot fully wake up without the tail-ends of your dreams clinging to you for the rest of the day, and you never fully sleep. You just dream, dream, dream.

Sighing, you lean your head back against the seat that you’re slumped in. The train carriage is too full, and you were lucky to get a seat in the first place — from your vantage point, you watch as people sway in tandem with the motion of the train. It’s almost hypnotic, how they undulate back and forth with every turn, brushing against each other only to be pulled apart again by the lurching train.

Through the sea of bodies, you catch a man’s eye. It breaks the monotony of the morning commute and your own spiralling thoughts, and your spine straightens unconsciously. He quirks an eyebrow briefly, slightly, in such a way that no one would be able to safely accuse him of having done it.

You look away, startled for no good reason. Do you know him? He feels familiar in a way that you can’t quite put your finger on. The train rattles on, and it takes several long minutes before you work up the nerve to glance the man’s way again. He’s still watching you, but you’re ready for it this time. His attention isn’t such a shock, and you allow your eyes to wander over his face properly.

You must know him, you think. Your eyes track over his features as though they’re winding over a well-worn path, admiring the curve of his nose and the fullness of his lips and the arch of his eyebrows over his intense, watchful eyes.

He smiles at you, and it feels as though you’re sharing a secret from across the crowded train carriage. You smile back — it’s just a small tug of the corners of your mouth, but it’s the most you’ve smiled in months. Longer, maybe.

In the middle of the carriage a woman laughs at something her friend has said and sways backward, blocking your view of the stranger. It feels like a loss.

The train trundles onwards, and the carriage gradually empties out. You watch people step off the train with friends, with their heads ducked low, lost in thought, arguing over the phone, distracted with their book bags. By the time it comes to your stop, the man is gone.

You try not to feel disappointed as you step off the train — it’s silly, after all. You don’t know the man, and whatever you thought you felt as you looked at each other was surely all in your own head. Your head has been awfully full, recently.

As you step off the train you grapple with your bag, side-stepping a businessman who is busy shouting down the phone at some unfortunate coworker. You’re distracted, which is the only reasonable explanation for how long it takes you to realise that the man from the train is standing in front of you.

“Oh.” You blurt, startled. You had already begun to resign yourself to never seeing him again, so you can’t help but feel distinctly caught off guard at the sight of him standing before you. “Hi.”

“Hello.” The man says. He’s looking at you expectantly, but you have no idea what he’s waiting for — as it is, you get completely distracted by his eyes. You hadn’t noticed on the train, but now that he’s up close you see that they’re a truly unusual deep burgundy. He tilts his head when you remain silent, and bites his lip. Now that you’re really looking, you notice how sharp his teeth are. “You’ve barely changed at all.”

You blink at him. “Er…” You trail off nervously. You don’t recognise him, but you feel like you know him. Clearly, he thinks that he knows you.

“It’s fitting, isn’t it? Meeting again on a train?” He smiles, and it’s an impossibly knowing expression. You don’t think you’ve ever been on the receiving end of a look that intimate in your life, though you have no idea what he’s talking about.

Someone collides hard with your shoulder and you stagger for balance. You only look away from the man for a mere second, but it’s enough; when you look again, he’s gone.

You take to walking. There’s a wooded area behind the town, and you enjoy traipsing idly through the trees. Ancient roots erupt out of the dirt and fan over the ground like hairs, and the moss that covers the trunks of the trees is such a deep green that it almost seems like paint pigment. It’s soothing, being surrounded by nature like this. It reminds you of childhood — the simplicity of being able to jump over tree roots under a canopy of pale green leaves, of being able to leave all your thoughts and stress at the boundary of the forest.

It’s where you come after waking sweat-soaked and disoriented from a dream that clings to you like a burr, where you walk among the ferns and the needle-leaved weeds until you manage to shake the last vestiges of memory from your mind. You need it, especially in the mornings where you wake up with the acrid scent of herbal cleanser stinging in your nose or the bite of hard calluses on your palms from non-existent rough cloths. On mornings like that, you walk and walk until you no longer feel as though you’re more alive in your dreams than you are in reality.

Deep in the forest is a great red facade, painted a flaking, faded red. You wander by it frequently, admiring the overgrown greenery that crawls up the walls like reaching fingers, the mossy stone guardian that stands sentinel amongst the cracked flagstones that lead into the tunnelled entrance. You’ve asked around in the town, curious about what exactly this building was for, but most of the locals either don’t know what building you’re talking about or admit that they’re not sure. One man told you that the facade was built for a theme park in the 90s that had ended up going bust in the recession, and that the building only looked old.

You remain unconvinced on that front. The building has the kind of presence that only very old things have; it feels like it’s watching you.

For the most part, your walks in the forest are peaceful. Recently though, you’ve found yourself plagued by an insistent, irritating sense of deja vu. You don’t know where it’s coming from, and it hits you at the strangest of times — when you’re making tea, or in the bath, or cleaning your apartment, or on the train, or admiring the sky on a cloudless day.

The man from the train is the boy in your dreams. It takes you weeks to come to that realisation. You just wake up in the middle of the night on a random Tuesday, with wide eyes and clammy skin and his name slipping from the forefront of your mind.

It shouldn’t be possible, but once it dawns on you, you’re certain of it.

Even stranger is that once you realise it, it feels as though you see him everywhere. You see flashes of red hair when you’re walking down the street, when you’re grocery shopping, when you’re walking home late at night. It’s only ever the barest glance out of the corner of your eye, just overt enough for you to know it’s him, but subtle enough for you to question yourself immediately after.

One night, you travel to a local city to meet some old school friends. At night, the city seems to pulse. The music from seedy clubs spills out into the neon-lit streets, muffled shouted arguments echoes from alleyways and apartments alike, and the streets are peppered with people either scurrying or stumbling home, with very little variation. Though the perpetually overcast sky hides any trace of the moon or stars, the streetlamps reflect in the ever-present stagnant puddles littering the street, lighting them up in varying shades of sickly yellow.

At night, the city seems alive. Chronically ill and struggling to breathe, maybe, but clinging to life all the same.

The way the neon lights flicker in the gloomy darkness, just barely illuminating the shadows of people hurrying through the streets to get in out of the rain, reminds you of something you can’t quite remember. It sits in the back of your mind like a sour taste, but no matter how much you reach for the memory it remains just out of reach.

You spend most of the night staring out of the steamed up window of the pub, entranced by the sight of the night streets and frustrated by the memories that seem to dangle just out of reach. You know that it doesn’t make for good company, and you feel guilty for that. Your friends don’t seem overly surprised at your detachment. You’ve been drifting away for years, and though tonight was supposed to be all about reconnecting it seems clear that it’s not going to work.

When you eventually stand up to leave, with forced smiles and awkward goodbyes, you can’t help but feel melancholy settle over you like a second skin. As you slip out of the pub and onto the dark streets, the thought crosses your mind that you’re not used to being alone like this. It’s a silly thought, really; you’ve been alone for years. But sometimes, in those liminal moments between waking and sleeping, you swear you can hear the gentle drowsy breaths of dozens of people sleeping all around you, as though you’re surrounded on all sides. On those nights you wake up hot and claustrophobic and uncomfortable, but never feeling lonely.

It is probably your own fault, you reflect as you drift down the sidewalk like a ghost. It’s difficult to make an effort to know people when you feel as though you don’t know yourself. You don’t know how to bridge the distance between yourself and other people. You think sometimes that you’re missing chunks of yourself.

You pass an open shopfront that’s serving street food, and glance briefly in at the kitchen. The cook is illuminated only dimly in the smoky room, standing out as a shadow figure more than anything, and for a split second you could swear that he has six arms. You look away quickly and carry on walking — you don’t want to look again only to be proven wrong. You want to preserve that little second of magic strangeness for as long as you can.

The puddles on the street seem like they’re glowing with the light reflected from the neon streetlamps, and you weave your way carefully around them to avoid getting your feet wet. The night has a strange quality about it, almost as though it’s holding its breath.

Considering the combination of your pensive mood and the expectant air of the evening, you don’t feel surprised at all when you look up from the wet cobblestones to find the man standing only a few feet ahead of you.

He smiles like he’s nervous, his gaze tracking carefully over your face. In his hands, he’s holding flowers. Camellias, you think. It’s the first time since you first saw him on the train that hasn’t been a fleeting glance out of the corner of your eye— he’s here in front of you and he’s real and solid and sturdy. He seems more substantial than the streets around you, than your friends back at the pub had been.

“Do you remember me?” He asks, voice soft as though he’s afraid of the answer.

“Remember you?” You croak. It feels as though the words are catching inside your throat. “No. But I’ve seen you every night in my dreams for years.”

If that’s the answer he’s expecting, he doesn’t show it. He just keeps looking at you, your face, your body. You wonder exactly it is that he’s seeing. “These are for you.” He says eventually, holding out the flowers. “I didn’t- I wanted to bring you something, when I saw you again. And I know that you always liked the garden.”

He’s talking as if the places that you’ve dreamed about are real. It doesn’t come as the earth-shattering surprise you might have expected — rather, it feels like a key turning in an old lock. A click, and then a sense of yes, that’s right.

You take the flowers, and clutch them to your chest. They’re a fleshy pink, with a vibrant yellow centre. The petals are as soft as velvet. Holding them feels like holding a safety blanket. “Thank you.” It’s the only thing that you can manage to say right now. Your thoughts are too full, and nothing else makes it out of your mouth.

It’s rather startling, the feelings that bubble up in your chest. It feels like something has just been unlocked, as though you had stored away all this emotion somewhere deep in your ribcage and then forgotten about it only for it to resurface at this precise moment, for this precise person.

“Eijirou.” You croak. “Kirishima Eijirou.”

His whole face brightens, and his eyes sparkle. “Yes. That’s me. You do remember!”

They’re not quite memories, you don’t think. They come in dreamlike flashes — the garden, an ocean, train tracks, the feral snarling of a dragon with sharp teeth, hard work and hot food, friends.

“I’m sorry I took so long,” Kirishima is saying, his face open and earnest. “But I told you that I’d come and find you again, remember?”

You do remember, sort of. A flash of a warm hand holding yours, pushing you forward over a boundary between one world and another, and a goodbye whispered behind you that sounds like a promise.

“You saved me.”

Kirishima laughs, though his eyes look a little shiny. “It was the other way around, actually. I would have stayed trapped in that bathhouse forever, if it weren’t for you.”

“The bathhouse.” You murmur, wide-eyed. It was real, real, real.

“Things are different now.” He edges closer to you. He’s large and imposing and taller than you, but he’s hunched slightly in an attempt to make himself unthreatening. “That’s why it took so long for me to come for you. Things were changing. Me and Katsuki run the bathhouse now.”

Katsuki. In your mind's eye you see a boy with wild blond hair and a dangerous look in his eyes, a boy who gives you extra rice when he can manage and takes over parts of your chores when you get so tired that you’re fit to pass out.

“I didn’t mean to make you wait.” He says quietly, and the tide of emotion that you had just barely been holding at bay comes crashing over you. Before the first tear has welled over the edge of your eyelids, Kirishima has stepped forward and wrapped you in his arms. The flowers are crushed between your chests as you cry.

“I didn’t even know what I was waiting for.” You cry into his silk suikan.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers into your hair. “I’m here now. I’m not going to leave again.”

You don’t release your grip on him. You’re not willing to take the chance.

After a moment, Kirishima speaks again. “Are you ready to go?”

“Go?” You echo, finally pulling away. “Go where?”

“Home.” He says, and he means the bathhouse. He means the spirit world.

“You want me to work for you?”

“I want you to help us run it.” He corrects. The distinction is important for both of you — though the memories are distant, you both know what it feels like to have your names and voices erased so cleanly that it makes you wonder if you ever existed fully at all.

“I don’t know anything about running a bathhouse. Especially not one for spirits.” You say, but Kirishima just laughs.

“You were always a hard worker. You’ll learn as you go. That’s what we’ve all been doing.”

You want to say yes. The word beats in your head like a drum, and you can’t think of a good reason to say no. The bathhouse. Home. The chance to feel real and awake at the same time.

“Okay.” You say on a breath, staring at him with wide eyes. “Stay with me, this time.”

When Kirishima’s face lights up in a smile, it’s the first time that you think you can accurately describe someone as incandescently happy. “Good luck getting rid of me again.”

You laugh, feeling nearly delirious with relief and joy. It’s real. He’s real. He’s come back for you, and now you’re going back with him. You think you should probably feel nervous or hesitant, but this brief encounter has felt more solid and right than the rest of the night spent with distant school-friends made uncomfortable by your silences.

“So, how do we get there?” You ask, but Kirishima just grins at you like you should already know the answer.

The train station is tucked away down an alley just off a busy main shopping district.

“It’s easy to miss if you don’t know exactly where you're going.” Kirishima tells you with a sharp smile, and it’s easy to believe. The red brick building that housed the train station is unmarked, and the trains couldn’t be seen from the main street. The alley itself is home to many curious sights -- paper lanterns bob overhead (though they don’t seem to be suspended by anything in particular), a yellowed flyer from the 1950s advertising Marlboro cigarettes drifts along on what seems to be a breeze despite the noticeable lack of wind, and three magpies sit on a wall wearing little golden timepieces on chains around their necks and caw in time with the ticking.

“Ready to go home?” Kirishima asks quietly. In his hand, two train tickets flutter in a non-existent breeze.

A family of mice scamper past your feet, pulling a miniature suitcase between them. A tall, thin woman wearing a blank white mask assists them onto the train.

You laugh at the whimsy of it all — it feels as though you’ve stepped into a fairytale, into a dream, into your childhood. “Yes,” You grin, “I’m ready.”

Kirishima beams back at you, and holds out a hand to help you onto the train. Finding a seat was easy — despite all the passengers you had seen boarding, the carriage was oddly empty. As soon as you’re seated, you sigh. It feels as though you’re sinking into an old overstuffed armchair, comfortable and familiar. When the whistle blows and the train starts moving, you turn eagerly to watch as the train begins to pick up speed. Within moments, you find that you can barely recognise the landscape blurring past the window — It seems that you’re zooming passed a beautiful sea-view, despite the fact that the city the train station was located in was conspicuously land-locked. You sigh happily and lean against your seat.

You still don’t remember everything about your experience in the spirit world all those years ago, but you think you remember hearing someone telling you “Once you meet someone you never really forget them. It just takes a while for your memories to return."

You make eye contact with Eijirou, who smiles back at you so fondly that it nearly hurts to look at. He’s changed so much from the boy in your dreams, in your memories. His eyes are no longer glassy and distant — now they’re shiny and expressive and so bright. His hair is longer too; still spiked and wild, but longer and curling softly over the curve of his neck and shoulders. He’s the boy your remember from all those years ago, but he’s also a man now. Grown, like you have, but smiling at you gently just like you’re ten years old again.

Through the window behind his head, the sunrise begins to bathe the water in delicate pinks and yellows. You’ll wait for as long as you need to for the memories to return, but even if they don’t that’s alright. You can just make new ones.

#this is so cheesy lol but whatever i've been staring at this doc for too long and i want it out of my sight #kirishima x reader #bnha x reader #kirishima eijirou #ghibli au #kirishima eijiro fluff #kirishima x y/n #mha x reader

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