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#him acknowledging his actions is messed up is hard enough but him trying to accept that he does genuinely care for his moirail tho
kurohaai · 2 years
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I love like a smoking gun
Ripped a shot, then I hid and run from the scene
You sick of your life, I don't lie
The ones we need.
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juuuulez · 11 months
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WE NEED MORE CARL JERKING KFF HEDCANNONS PLSSS
can’t believe i’ve just done a carl grimes jerking off trilogy…….but i have no regrets
once again, turned this one into a small oneshot, with x reader!!! soooo enjoy (also could definitely be read as same reader from capulet)
NSFW under the cut, all characters depicted are 18+, MDNI.
Due to your relationship being secret, yourself and Carl often had to go outside the compounds of both Alexandria and the Sanctuary to truly enjoy each others company.
Because of this, you two struggled to be intimate with each-other, as the time and place was never right. It was always too dangerous, or there wasn’t enough time.
Usually, you’d meet in the woods. It was like a fun game, stalking around the trees, careful not to make any noise. Whoever saw the other first got to lunge, try and capture their prey.
The two of you would roll through the twigs and grass, fighting to see who could pin the other down, prevail as the strongest. It didn’t really matter, except for bragging rights, until your next scheduled tousle.
You’d ended up near a fallen tree, Carl still squirming on the floor as he attempts to get you off him, but you’re determined to stand your ground. You snake your hands up his arms, using all your strength to pin his wrists above his head.
That’s it, he’s lost. As such, he accepts his punishment (or reward, for feeding your ego?), letting your mouth come down onto his to capture it in a hot kiss.
It’s heated, feverish from the start, licking into Carl’s mouth, your tongues swirling together in a mess of teeth and spit. It’s always like this, as if it’s the last time you’ll ever see each-other, that this moment will cease to exist ever again.
You take mercy on him, releasing his wrists from your grip, allowing him to grab onto the flesh of your hips. Now, you can snake one hand into his hair, the other gripping just below his jaw.
Wanting to shift into a better position, one where you can feel him under you, you sit up. Eager to keep your lips connected, Carl follows, shifting backwards enough so that he’s leaning against the fallen tree, with you seated on his lap.
A steady rhythm grows, arms tangled around each-other, holding on like a lifeline. You develop a slight motion of rocking against him, the movement encouraging your heated makeout session, Carl palming your ass over the thick fabric of your jeans.
Eventually, breathless, you pull away. It calms down, transitioning into something softer, peaceful. You kiss over Carl’s face, lips dancing on his cheeks, forehead, nose. In turn, he tilts his head back, resting against the tree while you adorn his body with your love.
Deciding you’ve spent too long here, guards down, you begin to stand. Carl’s hands fall from your hips, his back straightening again, eyes downcast.
You follow his gaze, a small grin spreading on your face. “My poor boy.” You coo, leaning back in to kiss at Carl’s cheek, an embarrassed blush spreading across his pale skin.
There was an obvious tent in his jeans, arousal having developed over the course of your making out and heavy petting. It was impossible to miss, and you openly acknowledging it caused Carl to squirm at the attention.
When you reach down, letting your palm ghost over the bulge, his breath hitches. “You don’t have to. It’ll go away.” He assure you, that nervous glint in his eye. So cute.
“No, no, I want to.” You tell him, one hand settling on Carl’s hip, the other working at his belt buckle. He calms down a little at this, leaning back against the tree, submitting to your actions. Yet, he’s still watching you observantly, wanting to gauge your every reaction.
His cock is half-hard in your palm, slender and pale as the rest of him. You give it a few slow, leisurely strokes, savouring the way it hardens under your touches, growing to its full length. The tip reddens, a pinkish hue enveloping the head of his dick, appearing strained just from the slightest ministrations.
Carl let’s out a soft moan, causing your gaze to flicker up to him. In response, he clamps his teeth down on his bottom lip, silencing any other reactions. But your smile is sweet and caring, despite how you’re currently jerking him off, leaning in to continue kissing over his cheek, then down to his neck.
“It’s okay, baby. Let me hear you. It’s just us.”
It’s impossible to resist, causing Carl to grip onto your arm, his other hand fisting the leaves and dirt as he pants heavily next to your ear. You practically thrive off his reactions, learning exactly what makes him feel good, trying to wring as much pleasure from the boy.
When you squeeze over the head, his legs jolt upwards, body curling inwards, towards you. You continue the motion, running your thumb over his throbbing tip, watching as Carl drops his head onto your shoulder with a needy moan.
It’s perfect, so perfect.
You continue to pleasure him, whispering sweet nothings into his ear as you twist your hand over Carl’s cock, over and over, manipulating your actions as he nears the edge. Faster, tighter, and then you’re putting a firm pressure on the swollen head, nibbling on his neck, as sticky streams of white finally spill onto your enclosed fist.
“Good boy.” You whisper, continuing to milk out his orgasm as you nurse Carl’s softening cock, careful not to let it brush against the rough fabric of his jeans.
With a sultry grin, you bring your hand up, watching his wrecked face as you lick the substance from your palm. It’s salty, coating your tongue and lingering on your tastebuds, leaving the hand shiny with saliva.
The lewd act causes Carl to gasp, eyes blown wide as he watches you, absorbed by this side he’s never seen before. His body still tingles from the aftershocks, and when you lean forward to kiss him again, he can already feel himself returning to attention.
He’ll never jerk off alone again.
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What are your thoughts on Joker and Lex Luthor's relationship (also the Batman/Superman Friendship)?
Joker taking an interest in Lex makes all the sense in the world. When it comes down to it Lex is Joker’s “type”: parental issues, extraordinary intelligence, peak physical fitness, and a self-righteous streak a mile wide.
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Fucking with Lex brings all the same kind of contesting of wills and minds that messing with Batman brings, and Joker does seem to derive a similar measure of delight in undermining Lex's inflated ego. Other than screwing with Lex, when he does decide to "help" Lex in whatever new goal Lex is pursuing, Joker also gets access to Lex's resources, and gets to be part of major villainous team ups that allow him to cause chaos on a global scale. There's plausible justification for me to buy that Joker sees enough value in Lex to help him out every so often, and to keep doing so despite both of them occasionally trying to kill the other.
But what does Lex get out of the relationship?
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Smart as Lex is, he sees himself as a temporarily embarrassed "hero". He truly believes that from his atrocities will come a better world which will accept Lex's justification of everything he's done having been for the greater good. So from Lex's perspective it's useful to have an unrepentant "villain" for when he needs someone to dirty their hands for him in a way he can't do himself. Joker's mind is also depraved in a way that a normal human mind, even one as intelligent as Lex, is not, and Lex can't rule out that Joker may offer a solution to a problem that Lex can't solve himself. I can buy that Lex is willing to forgive the Joker's betrayals and team up with him yet again, as long as it's made clear that Lex is always planning on killing the Joker himself once he deems Joker's usefulness at an end. He holds no hard feelings because he would, and will, do unto Joker as Joker has done unto him at the earliest opportunity.
My favorite feature of the Lex/Joker relationship is how it contrasts with the Superman/Batman one. Unlike Superman and Batman, who are very similar despite their seemingly insurmountable differences at first glance, Lex and the Joker have incompatible worldviews. The central difference between Lex and the Joker is that while both of them agree that the universe is without meaning and human life is worthless in the grand scheme of things, they differ in their response to that belief. Lex believes it's possible to force the universe to acknowledge humanity, or at least himself, as an exception to the norm of insignificance in the grand scheme of things. Joker believes that's impossible and so takes the universe's nihilism as a license to do whatever he wants without restraining himself.
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In short Lex believes it's possible to overcome the cruelty of the cosmos, to force the world to make sense, and uses that as a justification to do what he wants. Joker meanwhile has succumbed to what he sees as the inherent evil of life, and justifies himself by claiming that his acts of depravity are in line with the way reality operates when stripped of the illusion of order. Lex wants to be more than he is while Joker accepts his role in life. They both may be selfish pieces of shit, but the engines driving them are on different tracks, which makes for entertaining interactions between the two, but prevents them from forming a genuine understanding between or friendship with each other.
Fitting then that their heroic counterparts have a much different relationship.
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For all the superficial differences that have been thoroughly examined, Superman and Batman are more alike than they are different. Both are products of tragedy, Superman the death of Krypton, Batman the death of his parents. Both hold to personal codes of conduct that guide their actions, and will choose to follow their personal codes over the law or authority figures when those conflict with their ethics. Both have mothers named Martha and each's closest friend is a red-head named Jim. Both maintain two separate identities that exhibit different sides of themselves, both often struggle with which identity is the "real" one, and both arguably possess a third "identity" which is their true self that only their family and closest friends get to see. Finally and fundamentally both are motivated by the desire to preserve life above all else. Superman may make a big deal about inspiring others to do good, and Batman may trumpet how he's about terrifying others away from doing evil, but both are symbols of hope to those in need of justice.
It's why the two make for the best duo in superhero comics. No one else plays off each other as well as they do, because no one else was specifically built to contrast with each other. That they would team up is believable enough given they tend to be the first of their generation of heroes, regardless of whether or not any heroes came before them, and each one quickly validates his reputation to the other as being skilled and competent. They also complement each other well - Superman brings the powers, the humor, and the science fiction elements, Batman brings the detective skills, grit, and the crime elements - which is why everyone wants to see them together. You know shit is either about to get weird or serious if the situation calls for the World's Finest to team up once more.
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Now when it comes to the Superman/Batman friendship one thing that always bothered me about the relationship is that each tends to have the other as an aberration in their worldview. Normally Superman sees the good in everyone, but when it comes to Bruce he tends to view everything Bruce does in a very negative light, always making grim assessments about Bruce's mental state. Meanwhile Batman is known for always being able to get into peoples heads and see how they think except with Clark. Instead he routinely underestimates Clark's intelligence, viewing him as thankfully too stupid to comprehend that many of his displays of power can come across as godlike, and at heart just a simple farmboy/Boy Scout who doesn't grasp the complexity of reality.
It didn't bother me that their relationship produced these breaks from the norm, but the why this was so always bothered me. Eventually I had two major flashes of insight: One is that Superman tends to think the worst of Batman because he sees in Bruce a second Lex. Obviously this only really makes sense for origins like Birthright where Superman knew Lex before Lex became a total asshole, but it justifies why Clark puts up with all the bullshit Bruce pulls. Clark failed Lex at a crucial moment that dissolved their friendship and put Lex on the road to becoming the supervillain he is, rather than the hero he could have been. Batman has a lot of the same paranoia, arrogance, and entitlement as Lex does, and Superman recognizes that. So even though he's never going to break completely with Batman, out of fear of creating another Lex, he can't help but see the similarities between his former friend and his current one.
Second is that Batman needs to believe Superman is an idiot because the alternative terrifies him. As long as he convinces himself that Clark is simply too dumb to ever consider that many view him as a god, and let that view affect him, then Bruce can rest easy at night. He can afford to trust Superman as a friend and a comrade if he lies to himself that Clark can't go bad because he's too simple to do evil. It's a willful ignorance on his part, one he stubbornly clings to because it's easier than trusting Clark to stay on the straight and narrow no matter the hurdles thrown up against him.
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Oddly enough that each is the other's blind spot only enhances the relationship to me, because it means they bring out a different side of each other when they're together that we don't get to see when they're solo, and isn't that exactly what a team-up should aim to do?
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80s4life · 3 years
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Little Dove*
Word Count: 3,949
Status: Not Requested!
A/N: Had a thought lol
Fandom: Karate Kid 1985
Relationship: John Kreese x Student!Female Reader
Summary: You had stayed around throughout all of his bullshit. Throughout the beginning of a forever-long battle with Daniel LaRusso, throughout losing all of his Cobra Kais, going through crippling debt, and now, more than ever, as he tries to put himself together. You’ve been there, the whole time. So why is it, that when a random man from his past appears, all of his problems are fixed without a glance your way? What does this Terry Silver have that you don’t (besides endless money and a history)? It’s unfair. It’s selfish. It’s Kreese.
Taglist: @intersellars-the-alien-of-human @snapessecretdiary
Warnings: smut, teasing, jealousy, age-gap paring, language, Terry being an overprotective cockblock, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), slight dubcon, daddy/little girl kink, degrading kink
Masterlist Karate Kid Masterlist
{not my gif, credits belong to @atmostories​}
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I just love how innocent he looks here lol ^
Staring into the window of his office, you make no attempt in engaging in the conversation your peers were having, the people on the other side of the glass proving to be more interesting at the moment. Besides, it’s the same conversation over and over again, “Terry’s so great,” “The money,” “The brawn,” “The elegance,” you snort. All that Terry was anyway was trouble with enough money to pay off his stupidity. 
The other man, however, was different. He did not become as fortunate as his younger companion. He went through many hardships that Terry would simply never understand. The proof: you. You had been there, through thick and thin. You can still remember the fights, injuries, and brokenness of a man like a slideshow constantly playing in your head, haunting your dreams. You should’ve left a long time ago, but you didn’t. There were points in your life that made you consider dropping him and everything he was in contact with at one point. But, yet again, you never did. All you did was forgive and forget, most of the time without apologies.
But no matter how much you’ve tried, there was always one outlier that couldn’t be erased. 
Holding onto your brothers shoulder, you congratulate him on how well he’d done. He lost the tournament, but it was his heart that shined through it. Johnny was the one who handed LaRusso his trophy even as they were beating each other senseless moments ago. Pulling him in tightly, you whisper, “You did good, Blondie. We’ll get ‘em next year.” 
He smiles broadly at this, returning the favor, “You didn’t do too bad yourself, Tiny. Hell, maybe next year, you’ll be the one to beat his ass for me... That, or you’ll be the same height as him,” he ruffles your hair.
“Shut up!” you swat his hands playfully, shouldering his side, then making your way over to the man of the hour. “Congratulations,” you outstretch your hand, “You were tough to beat! I’ll get ya one day though!” you point to him smiling as Johnny pulls you out of the arena with him.
“Thanks...Oh, and I’ll hold you to it!” he yells back, lifting his trophy high above his head. You leave with a sly smirk and playful roll of the eyes, not bad LaRusso.
Walking outside, you smile at Kreese nervously, knowing that he wasn’t going to take the loss lightly. Ignoring you completely, he snatches your brother from your grasp within moments, pinning him the the nearest car in the parking lot. With Johnny under the weight of Kreese, you try to yank him off, no longer in fear of your actions but what could happen if you don’t act fast. Shoving you out of the way with a hard jab of his elbow to your eye, Kreese goes back to harming your brother, switching positions as he goes to tighten his arm around Johnny’s neck.
Tommy, fearing for his life, stands still, on the verge of passing out. Dutch goes to help you up, pulling you away from Kreese’s proximity, but not for long. Full of anger and disappointment, you tear you body away from Dutch’s, giving him a stern look that he acknowledges and respects, stepping back. You run towards Kreese once more, putting more force into your pushes and shoves. He catches your eyes for a moment, anger glazing over his own as he gets a good look at the utter helplessness and determination within your own. He doesn’t loosen up though, tightening his hold even more so as if to test you. 
Lunging once more, he blocks you from him and counters with a hard blow to your face. You fall again at Kreese’s feet, Johnny’s purpling face looking down at yours in fear and worry. As you go to make a final attempt, your prayers are answered, a man about your height grabbing Kreese’s fist in a vice grip. In a daze, Johnny is able to slip from his hold to the ground beneath him, falling into your outstretched arms as you lunge, again, to protect his head. Kreese, now turning his fury onto the short man, goes for a punch, missing and smashing the glass beside his target.
As the fight starts to get worse, Dutch gets a hold of Johnny, taking his weight off of yours and dragging him to safety. Jimmy and Bobby, going to help Dutch, leaves Tommy to help you up. Taking his hand gratefully, you are able to see Kreese’s demise clearly, a burning crimson decorating his now busted fists, no doubt shredded and in need of medical care. You turn back just in time for him to look your way, grief washing over your figure as you feel a sense of uncertainty. 
The boys get into Johnny’s car quickly, pulling out of the car lot. Tommy, silently turning his calming body to yours, questions you with his eyes. Shaking your head lightly, you signal for him to go with them, your head hazy with the brute force of numerous blows previously clashing with your face. He nods knowingly, smiling weakly, as if questioning your motives or even why you were considering the choice you’d made up. Johnny looks back at you too, but is reassured as the short man, Mr. Miyagi, places a hand on your shoulder. As they peel out of the lot, you sigh and all the strength you’d conjured dropped instantly.
“You need checkup,” the older man states, looking you over.
“Yeah, but I need to take care of him first,” you point at the man.
“Ah. Good heart always forgives. You come by dojo sometime.”
“I’ll think about it,” you answer, kindly excusing yourself as LaRusso runs over to Miyagi, leaving just you and Kreese left in the parking lot.
Slowly, you pace yourself as to not speed too closely, too quickly to the man, walking lightly and quietly. Upon entering a close proximity, he looks up, neutral expression catching you off guard. Blinking once, he looks back down at his continuously bleeding hands, acknowledging your presence but not daring to step the line of communication. He never does.
“Do you...Do you n- ...?” you start, at a loss for words as you try to rephrase the question in a way to still make him feel superior without appearing weak to himself, “Do you want my help?”
He doesn’t say anything as an answer, just simply stares at the reddening hands.
So, following his chosen behavior, you adopt it and act the same. Slowly, you take off your fleece sweater, soft and warm to the touch, and move closer to Kreese. As you move into his personal space, you don’t dare look him in the eyes, and go to rip a piece of the sweater in half. Silently, you carefully take one of his hands in your own, them swallowing yours in turn. Wrapping the now torn cloth around his fists, you slightly tighten the material around the injury to prevent further bleeding, tying off the ends to keep the sweater where you want it. Turning to do the same for the other hand, Kreese never winces, or sucks in a breath, or even grunts in anguish.
As you finish your duty, you step back, parts of your hands and some of your pants now coated in differing amounts of blood from the constant dripping mess he’d left it in for a while. Taking in a deep breath, you look at him directly for the first time of the night, “Get in the car.”
That was the first of many nightmares that litter your mind. You grew into a tough, headstrong, and independent woman not only physically, but mentally as well. You were no longer the child looked down from the tip of Kreese’s nose, and despite your height not making much of a difference, you had filled into your body, soul, and mind. You were a woman nonetheless.
You were understood by Johnny, but to an extent. As you had continued to serve Kreese, it was only right that Johnny distanced himself from him, and with that, came you as well. You accepted this, and knew that you were not at war with him, settling for calls and texts when you missed him most. Johnny still allowed you the time to talk about your problems like you did in high school, and even let you rant about the newest situation with Kreese. Everyday, he worried for you, but he knew that this was what you wanted. 
He knew you fell for him before you even had.
After that night, you went through phases with Kreese: sometimes he was happy and nice to you, other times was full of anger, arguments, and nonstop screaming at one another. You were like an old married couple without the ring, matrimony, and age. You didn’t pay any mind to it, the mixture of feelings for him stronger than the will to leave as you’d wanted to in your youth.
But overall was the feeling of betrayal, or at least a form of it. For 4 years, after the night of the failed tournament, you were with Kreese, and finally, when things started to clear themselves out, another problem arose. Although shit out of luck, Kreese was ready to give up the dojo, give it to the owner, and move on in hopes of wiping the slate clean. You were ready to forgive him. And then, Terry Silver, unable to let the past be the past, convinced Kreese to give it a second try.
Now as you sit in a circle with Dennis, Mike, and Snake on the mat of the dojo, doing some stretches before training starts, you couldn’t help but look at the men excluding you from something you had tried to keep alive as long as they had. Longer than Terry at least. 
Snapping sounds through your frustrated haze, knocking you back into reality by Snake’s fingers. Scrunching your nose in confusion, you look at him, anger now turned towards him instead. “You keep drooling like that and we’ll all be slipping around and breaking shit. Then how would we be at the tournament?”
“Fuck you, Snake,” you get up, stomping to the office without another word. He just turns a mock-offended expression to the boys who give confused ones in return.
Storming into the small cubicle deemed an office, you turn to the men standing side-by-side. “Aw, what’s the matter sweetheart? The boys not playing fair?” Terry teases, trying to push your buttons.
Face now reddened with anger, you spit, “We don’t pay for you to sit around in your office and play with each other’s dicks. You can do that on your own time.”
“You don’t pay period as far as I’m concerned. And last time I checked, you weren’t of much use here anyways, Shortcake,” Terry rebuttals.
“And last time I checked, you're just here to tie your hair back, paint your nails, torture a kid half your age and an man even older than you.”
“Why you-!”
“Terry!” Kreese warns, a hand placed on his comrades’ chest, “It’s not worth your time, just go get the boys readied up for practice.”
“Sure...sure Johnny, I can do that,” he says eagerly, leaving the room with a side glance your way and elbow to the shoulder as he passes by.
Getting up from the back of the desk, Kreese loops around to close the office door, going back to where he was previously. “Wow, you really have that dog under wraps huh? Ready to bark when you say ‘bark’ or growl when you say ‘growl’?”
“Y/N, not now. You better cut this shit out now or I’ll kick you out,” he warns.
“Oh, so now your protecting him?! You’re going to sit here, right now, and threaten me for what? Because he served with you? Because you saved him?! What a load of shit!”
“Watch your mouth! You have no right to raise your voice to me! What I do with this dojo is none of your damn business, and will certainly never concern you. Ever.”
“Oh yeah! For sure! What did he even do, huh? What’s so great about him that is worth protecting his ass for when he’s never had to do anything in return?! I was there John! I was! I dealt with your shit for 4 years! Not 1! Not 2! Not even fucking 3!”
“I never told you to! No one was stopping you from walking out that damn door when everyone else had! I would’ve done perfectly fine without your ‘help’ when all it did was provide extra shit to take care of!”
“Really?! That’s what it was? Nothing? I dealt with your anger issues, your screaming! The god damn punches, kicks, spits, screams, hell anything you wanted to do in order to harm someone else to make you feel better! But that wasn’t me... No... Of course it wasn’t, right?”
“I’ve got no time for this. Stay in this fucking room and don’t move. You even dare come out into that dojo and you’re out. I have a winner to make and not some little girl to argue with.”
“Fuck you,” you spit, tears pooling at the bottom of your eyelids as the door hides you from view.
For hours, you sit in boredom, listening to the repetitive “hut” or “ah” as blow after blow is thrown into the dummies and punching bags. If only they could do that to me, take me out of my misery for fuck’s sake. But, despite the utter pissed state you were in, you did not move from the desk, even deciding to take a nap. It wasn’t until Dennis’ unusually loud laugh is echoed within the whole dojo do you finally wake back up. Looking through the blinds, you see the boys getting packed up. Doing the same, you walk out of the office just in time for Terry to leave with the boys a few moments later.
Speeding across the length of the mats, you take long strides in order to storm as fast as possible out of the cage that holds the biggest chains around your neck. Going for the door, you are unable to catch yourself as Kreese grabs your hand and flips you onto your back, splaying your body on the mats beneath you.
Groaning, you move to sit up, watching as he goes to lock the door to the dojo, throwing the keys somewhere and closing the blinds of the big glass panes adorning the front wall. Getting up, the harbored anger floods your being once more, “I’m done with your bullshit Kreese. Let me the fuck out so I can leave this place once and for all. You seem to be doing ‘perfectly fine’ with your boyfriend, so let me go!”
Without answering, he grabs you by the neck firmly, but not enough to choke you. The memories of Johnny instantly flood your mind, causing you to grab his hand just as tight, eyes peering straight into his. Noticing your change in demeanor, he loosens his hold a little and pushes your back up against the closest wall to your back. As your back collides with the wall, his lips clasp yours.
Whining in surprise, you go to pull back only for him to pull you closer by the neck. Realization dawns on you after a moment, and within seconds, your leaning into his touch absentmindedly. You only break apart once your lungs beg for more air. “There. Is that what you wanted?” he asks you, voice gravelly.
Ignoring his comment, you grab him by the nape of his neck, pulling him into you once again, tongue battling his own. Your tongue dances around, observing every crevice and tasting every bit of his mouth, grazing his teeth, biting his lips, and even tangling it with his. Taking control back, he shoves your body back into the wall, separating your mouth from his, a trail of saliva the only thing connecting your bodies.
His hand, long forgotten and hanging loose on your neck, tightens the grip back up firmly once again and moves his other to pin your arms above your head. Now basking in dominance, he kisses you once more, pinning his knee between your legs in the most delicious way. Taking advantage of the placement, you attempt to grind your core against his thigh to relieve some tension. 
“Ah. Ah. Ah,” he warns, pulling his knee away and moving to unbuckle his belt instead, “On your knees, Slut.”
Obeying instantly, you do as he says and place yourself on your knees. Finally undoing the tie of his gi, he pulls his pants, alongside his underwear, down just enough to let his dick spring free. Gulping in admiration, you take in the view of his girth and length, precum oozing at the tip.
“Looks like your happy to see me,” you joke, loosening your tension in your shoulders.
Stepping closer, Kreese edges closer to your mouth, and, taking the hint, you wrap one hand around the base of his shaft. Your other hand, deciding teasing is the best get-back, wraps itself closer to the tip, thumb grazing the slit. Earning a shudder of pleasure from the man, he goes to move in closer again. Pulling your head away, you squeeze the tip loosely, staring up at Kreese.
At your locked gaze, his cheeks burn bright pink, enabling you to give the man what he wants now that he’s at a loss for words and flustered for you. Taking him into your mouth little by little, you stop just before the barricade of choking. Eyes locked onto his, you place your hands on either side of his hips for support, then take him in as fully as physically possible. Instantly, you are met by struggling moans of relief.
Swirling your tongue around and lapping at his veiny member, he struggles to control himself, the undying need for more consuming him. Pulling away just enough to keep the tip in your mouth, you nod at him, giving him the okay to do as he pleases. That was all he needed to start going, pulling your mouth around his cock again, and tangling his hands in your hair for a better grip. Thrusting into your mouth now, you try your best to breathe as you feel him start twitching, knowing you will be fine in a few minutes.
The closer he gets to ecstasy, the louder he gets, hips thrusting in any possible direction as his pleasure threatens to bubble over. “Look at me,” he orders, looking you in the eyes. Slightly confused, you do as told, looking at him through your eyelashes as he continuously uses your mouth. “That’s it, Good Girl.”
Without warning, he unleashes his load into your mouth, the hot and sticky cum shooting to the back of your throat, forcing you to swallow. Licking up the remains, you make a show of swallowing the contents as well, getting back onto your feet with a help of his hand. Pulling your body into his, he kisses you deeply, tasting himself.
You whine as you are still left in uncomfortable need for him, having not gotten your share just yet, the feeling of being filled a painful reminder. “Don’t worry, Daddy’ll take care of you.” And that, he does, getting to work on untying your gi and throwing the long-sleeved shirt over you head. Doing the same to him, you match his enthusiasm, pulling his shirt off and throwing it somewhere in the room. 
Playing with your clothed breasts, Kreese slips a hand under your bra to pinch your nipples, twisting them between his middle and fore fingers. Moaning, you pull him into your chest nibbling his ear. Gliding his hands down your sides and to your waist, he slowly edges his fingers slightly underneath your pants, pushing them down with your panties. As he busies himself with your clothes, you move your hands behind your back to unclasp your bra, breasts springing free and instantly hardening at the new temperature of the room.
Fingers, teasing your entrance, catches you off-guard, moaning again at the first shocks of pleasure. “Kreese,” you start breathlessly, “Enough is enough. Mgh... Stop teasing me,” you try to order, impatient and horny.
“As you wish, Princess.”
Lifting up one of your legs and wrapping it around his hipbone, he lines himself up with your entrance, entering slowly. Together, you sigh in ease simultaneously. Nodding once, you lean your forehead underneath his chin, starting to thrust slowly. Knowing this isn’t the pace he prefers, and body adjusting to his shape, you pull him in closer, whispering in his ear, “Faster, Daddy.”
Jolting at the name, he fastens the pace, grinding in rougher strokes, rubbing every part of you body in the best way possible. No one’s ever filled you the way he is now, and it leaves you stunned in a trance of utter euphoria. Tapping your other leg, you hop up to warp both legs around Kreese. At the new angle, he thrusts upwards, the overstimulation causing you to shake in a new sensation. 
Squeezing his dick tightly, you try to hold your orgasm off for as long as possible, but the building want of release causes you to topple over the edge quickly, spilling all over the body still within your own. Without faltering, Kreese continues his assault on your body, causing you to scream out in the fury of pleasure being all too much for you. Shaking harder, you struggle to keep yourself around his body for long.
Seeing this, Kreese keeps himself sheathed in your cunt, laying you on your back against the mats of the flooring. Grabbing your legs, Kreese bends them until your thighs meet your chest. Then, thrusting at the same pace as before, Kreese is able to fuck you senseless without further issues. Moaning screams of ecstasy echo throughout the dojo, the combination of yourself and the slapping of skin being the only noises in the room.
As quickly as you’d built up the previous time, your orgasm and need of release forms again, your pussy throbbing in anticipation.  “Kreese..” is all you manage, the older man quickly teetering towards the edge with you. Thrusting the hardest he had the whole night, he manages only a few more before you both come at the same time, screaming as you pull him down by the neck and into your chest, your name falling from his tongue in multiples.
Sucking in as much air as possible, Kreese and you stay in the same position panting before he unsheathes himself and collapses next to you. Catching your breath, you cuddle into his side in a naked heap of sweat and satisfaction. “Are you still jealous of Terry now?”
“It depends, am I still as useless as before?”
“I don’t believe so,” Kreese giggles, “but if you pull another crazy stunt like that, I will really have to give you a good beating. Huh, Babydoll?”
“I like the sound of that,” you say, going to straddle his hips as he lays on his back, “How about round two and I’ll consider not ripping his throat out?”
“Deal.”
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broadwayandnetflix · 3 years
Note
i have a request for bo burnham!!:) maybe like the reader and bo watch the special when he gets done editing it and doing all the other stuff he has to do for it, and he records her reaction to the whole thing and that’s how he announces the special?? i know that’s weird but it’s been stuck in my head, so you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to!
Test Run - Bo Burnham x Reader
Warnings: Language
Theme: FLUFF (angst if you like squint)
Word Count: 1.6k
A/N: y’all I wrote this so fast, like kachow. I hope you enjoyed it, and got a break from all of the angst. but angst is still good. but this fic is not me fangirling over inside. never, couldn’t be me. I hope you enjoyed the fic though @bos-a-feminist I had sm fun writing it.
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It had been late one evening when Bo had practically burst into the door of your bedroom. You sat puzzled as you gave the man time to catch his breath, as he gave you an eager look.
Trying not to giggle as Bruce yipped at Bo’s feet in pure excitement, it seemed he too was trying to figure out what was going on.
“What? Are we finally gonna have sex again?” you say humorously, causing the man to break composure for just a second.
“No! I mean what the fuck? Yes, yes, and to answer your question, yes. But not right now.”
You giggle as he looks at you with an expression you couldn’t fully decipher. In any constellation, it had been months since you had seen the man this energetic.
Usually, when Bo would come back from his long days in the guest house, he’d tend to be exhausted. Often just giving you a quick kiss before collapsing onto the mattress.
His blue eyes softening towards you as he extends his hand for you to take. Which made you realize that there was an ounce of seriousness in his actions.
Your hands fitting perfectly in his as he pulls you up from the bed, one hand making sure to hold the small of your back.
“Where are we going?” you breathe out.
Bo remained silent, but you found out soon enough as he led you outside to the guest house.
You had stopped dead in your tracks, causing him to do the same. Eyes widening as you realized what was gonna happen, turning to Bo and giving him the biggest grin you could muster.
From the minute he had set foot in the guest house to begin his special, he had been very secretive about it. Something about how it helped him to create something that no one really knew about.
I mean, you had some idea when the UPS trucks kept delivering camera equipment. Or when he had asked if he could take some of your clothes. Other than that, though, top secret.
It had been about roughly a little over a year when he had started the special. A year of emotions and hard work, and by the looks of it.
It seemed as though he had finished.
“Wait are you doing what I think you are doing?” you say, looking at him expectedly.
“Shit babe you catch on quick. Yes, if we are on the same mindset. I think we are, now hush, or I’ll never get to show you it.” Bo instructs before leading you inside.
In all honesty, you didn’t know what to expect. The last time you had seen the guest house had been roughly two years ago. Now? It looked completely different.
Wires and different camera equipment lay waste on the floor, making it almost a hazard. Other lights of various types and sizes filled the room like mini metal trees. It looked disorganized and yet organized at the same time.
Yet Bo walked through the maze of equipment with ease, almost as if it wasn’t even there. You smiled before tiptoeing to the clearing that Bo had made for you.
“Yeah apologies, I wasn’t expecting company.” Bo smirks as you break into laughter.
“It looks…well it looks well used.” you reply, getting comfortable on the chair he had provided.
In front of you sat a projection on the wall of what seemed to be an editing software. You looked back at Bo with an eager grin; he gives you a slight wink.
Anticipation settling in the air as you watched him mess around with the monitor. Until his cursor finally presses on a folder and a video screen pulls up.
You half expected him to sit beside you. Still, instead, he remains behind the computer, amongst his sea of technological instruments and cameras.
“Y/N, I’m showing this to you. Simply because you deserve to see why I’ve been so busy for like a year or more. Plus, you mean the world to me and I wanna know your input.”
Bo says softly. You can detect a hint of nerves in his actions and tone; you practically melt, realizing that was he anxious. Regardless you knew without a shadow of a doubt you were gonna love whatever he puts out.
You open your mouth to reply before he presses play, and an eerie ringing fills the room. Music filling your senses as the special, titled Inside, plays before you.
The next hour or two fills you with a multitude of emotions that you can’t quite place. It seemed like Bo was making you laugh seconds ago, and now you can’t help but feel tears well up in your eyes.
Cinematically it was stunning, breathtaking even. It was hard to believe that Bo had turned the little guest house into a studio. Or at least to the extent that it became, with its gorgeous displays and production.
Performance-wise, it was a completely different ballpark. Bo fucking delivered in more ways than one, whether in humor or just pure raw emotion.
Acting or not, it broke your heart to see the man you loved so dearly in the state that he was in. Of course, you could tell something was up even then when he was filming, but he never gave away the extent of it.
Just hearing him cry made your stomach twist in knots; you wanted to comfort him. Only to be reminded that it was just merely a video of him.
Even at the moment, it took you everything not to look back at Bo; you knew how much he valued your attention. Plus, you wanted to experience the special in full, just as you would if he were on stage.
The special wasn’t the same as his others, but it was well needed for a time like this. It felt personal and introspective, but it was also oh so clever and in-depth. You adored it and the time and effort that he had put into it.
As the credits rolled out and you saw an acknowledgment for your name, your heart soared.
You knew that the two of you had worked hard to be there for each other the past year. Especially with everything that was going on and Bo working most of the time.
To know that you had helped him in any shape or form. It just meant a lot, in more ways than he’d ever know.
The lights in the room flickered on as if he had made a make-shift movie theatre. You wiped away any stray tears, and before he could even say anything, you ran into his arms.
Bo jolting back in surprise before accepting the embrace and holding you tighter into his chest. His head resting gently on top of yours due to his taller stature.
“God I love you so much, more than you’ll ever know. I seriously don’t know if I would’ve made it out alive this past year if I didn’t have you.” he croaked into your hold.
It took you a second to realize that the man was crying, and you pulled away to meet his eyes. Your fingers brushing away his tears before reaching up to give him a kiss.
His figure bending down just a tad to meet your lips as he kisses you back sweetly. It’s light and yet so filled with passion for making up for what time that had been lost.
Yet as he looks down at you, a smile etching across his lips. As he asks you about what your thoughts are on his special, he already knows your response.
Unbeknownst to you, he had recorded your entire viewing experience. Of course, if he were to ever share it anywhere, he’d ask your permission, but it was apparent.
Even as you told him how much you loved it and how much you enjoyed it. You knew that he knew that you understood the special the way he had intended it.
It was one of the many things that made him adore you endlessly. You meant the world to him.
“We should celebrate babe! Maybe order a pizza or something.” you exclaim, arms still wrapped around his neck in your embrace.
“We definitely should, but what pizza places are open at this hour?” Bo smirks as you give him a slight frown.
“I don’t know, that’s a good question.” you hesitate.
“Actually I do know one place that’s really good and delivers.” Bo whispers seductively up against your ear.
You giggle and gesture for him to continue as he swiftly pulls away from your hold. His hand outstretched for you to take once again as he leads you towards the house. Or, more importantly, towards your bedroom.
“Me.”
——————————————————————------------------------------------
Bo sat anxiously beside you as his fingers lingered over the ‘post’ button on his different social media accounts.
The post in question was a video that he stitched together of you watching the special. With your consent, of course.
It had been edited together to be vague enough that he wouldn’t spoil the special. But nonetheless, it was sweet, and he totally made sure to include you tearing up in it.
You made it a priority to tackle him for that one.
The video was sweet and short, but it got the intended message across, and you personally loved it, just like you loved Bo and the special.
“Any-day now Robert.” you tease as you hold his one hand in yours.
“Do you think that they’ll wanna watch it?” he whispers quietly.
“Of course they will, it’s you. Baby you are so talented, your fans will be so excited.” you reassure.
Bo sighs before squeezing your one hand tightly before pressing the button. And letting Inside out into the world.
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The Birds & The Bees (S.R. | Pt. 3)
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Summary: Reader earns her nickname, and Spencer sinks to a new level of sin. A/N: Here, take your first dose of smut 💊 ✨ Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Slow Burn (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Drinking, alcohol, masturbation (male) Word Count: 5.3k
MASTERLIST | Series Masterlist
——————————————————
If I had to pick my favorite thing about working for Spencer Reid, it would probably be something that most people wouldn’t expect. Sure, it was nice to be able to work with a human encyclopedia, and he was definitely very nice to look at, but neither of those things contributed to my love for my job.
It was the sense of belonging. An overwhelming feeling of serenity that existed, flowing freely beneath the surface like a network of roots twined together. I never felt out of place when I was with Spencer — which couldn’t be said for basically any other time. Especially not now.
Halloween is one of my favorite holidays because it’s just absurd. You harass your neighbors while dressed in a costume and they reward you with something sweet (or, in some cases, change). As I’ve grown older, not much has changed aside from the creativity and length of the costumes.
... and the sweet treats being replaced by the bitter sting of alcohol.
“You do realize that guy was hitting on you in there, right?” my friend shouted from less than a foot to my right.
“He was just being nice.”
“Yeah... in a bar,” another girl chimed in, “On Halloween.”
I tried to remember the face of the man they were talking about, but my memory of his eyes blended into the flashing lights of the club. Even if I wasn’t drunk, I knew it would have been hard to remember him. Because the truth was that he wasn’t the person I wanted to see when I closed my eyes.  
“Leave her alone. She’s trying to stay pure for her professor,” my friend snickered.
Despite the treachery, I still caught her before she almost pushed us both straight off the curb in her drunken state. But it wasn’t her opinion I was worried about, because at that point, I was certain she would remember none of it by the time class rolled around come Monday. It was our other acquaintance that I responded to, with a very squeaky and unreliable, “I am not doing that!”
“Yeah, what she wants isn’t pure at all,” the mess on my shoulder droned. That was enough of a reason for me to drop her, although it really resulted in both of us barely staying on our feet on the somewhat crowded sidewalk.
“Stop! It’s not like that!”
“Sure it’s not.”
Then, something else caught her attention. Knowing her, I figured that it was either a man in a scandalous costume, or it was a two for one drink deal plastered in front of a bar. I assumed it was the latter, because as soon as she finished talking, she grabbed hold of our hands and yanked us against the brick wall of the next bar.
“So you wouldn’t mind if, theoretically, Professor Reid saw you in your costume?” she asked.
I like to think that I am a relatively smart girl. After all, I had made my way to graduate school, and Spencer seemed to think that I wasn’t a complete hopeless idiot. But in that moment, I couldn’t understand why on earth she would ever think to ask me that.
Running my hands over the fuzzy pink bodysuit I was wearing, I tried to picture his reaction. As soon as I tried to look down, however, the two floppy bunny ears affixed to the hood dropped over my eyes.
“I-I mean, I guess not…?” I mumbled, my face growing hot from something other than the alcohol, “I’m wearing it in public, so...”
But then she said it — the most terrifying two words I’d ever heard in my life.
“Okay ­– good.”
My eyes shot up immediately, trying to follow her eyes through the crowd of drunk, costumed people. By the time that I spotted him, somewhat thankfully dressed in normal clothes, I was powerless to stop it.
“Dr. Reid!” My friend’s voice rang out into the night, “Dr. Reid, come over here!”
The moment our eyes met, I knew I was fucked. Totally, completely, and utterly fucked. A clever little grin filled his cheeks as he quickly spotted me trying to hide under my hood.
“What the fuck are you doing?!” I shrieked, but he was already on his way over.
“You said you didn’t mind!”
In a panicked whisper, I bit back, “I didn’t say call him over here!”
When he grew closer, though, I corrected myself. Because it was not just Spencer who was walking over. There was someone else with him. Another man, just as tall and just as beautiful as Spencer, but with a dark complexion and an even more wicked smile.
As for my company, they had already scattered into the bar behind me, leaving me with a wordless, dumbstruck look on my face that was very poorly hidden behind bunny ears.
“H-hey Prof— Dr. Reid,” I managed to get out.  
“Hey,” he answered in a tone I’d never heard before. A slightly guarded, very entertained but mostly awkward stretch of the vowel.
The man beside him, however, was quick to question.
“Who’s this?”
As I said before, I like to consider myself a relatively bright person. But the alcohol that night had been both free and strong. So, when I was asked by a handsome man who I was on the Devil’s night, I answered honestly.
“I’m a bunny!” I cried, bringing my hands together over my chest and turning to present the small pink pompom affixed to my lower back.
“I can see that,” the stranger replied through a genuine chuckle. But while the action was amusing to at least two of us in the conversation, Spencer looked mortified. It wasn’t necessarily negative, though.
I couldn’t be sure, of course, considering that I had already consumed more liquor that night than I had in the past month, but something told me that Spencer was less humiliated by me, and more worried about how blatant his response to my answer was. Because when he spoke, he did so through a smile.
“She’s uh... my teaching assistant.”
“Teaching assistant, huh?” his friend repeated, clearly amused.
There was almost a challenge to the title. Something about the way he said it setting my heart into overdrive. Unable to control my own treacherous tongue, I continued to dig myself a wonderfully sized hole to jump in to.
“I’m also very good at hopping,” I said.  
Once again, the better company of the two laughed. Spencer, however, covered his smile with a hand that brought attention to just how red his face had grown over the course of a few seconds. I was so distracted by it, lost in the way I could still see upturned lips just from his eye shape alone, that I failed to acknowledge the other man for a suspicious length of time.
“Well hey, don’t let me get in the way of you two catching up. Reid, I’ll go tell the hostess we’re here, so the others know where to go.”
With a firm pat on the shoulder, the man almost turned to walk away. But before he could, I drew him back again.
“Ooh, is there a party?”
Spencer, finally able to speak again, rushed his reply.
“No, it’s nothing.”
It was obviously not nothing, though. Judging by the toothy grin that his friend flashed, it was a very big not-nothing.
“Did he not tell you?” he asked with an incredulous, mischievous tone, “It’s his birthday.”
And it was, by far, the most insulting, scandalous news I’d heard that night. Enough to elicit a sharp gasp and hand reaching out to grab his wrist in a way I knew I shouldn’t have.
“You didn’t tell me it’s your birthday!”
My mind was racing, kicking myself for having not figured it out sooner. I was trying to recall the monthly staff newsletter, but then quickly remembered that I usually relied on Spencer to summarize them for me.
“It’s not my birthday,” he explained with a sigh, “It was a few days ago.”
His friend seemed pleased by my response, although he clearly saw it dwindling. My heels had already dropped back down with my hands that fell away, signaling a very different emotion than the excitement from seconds prior.
“We’re meeting up with some people for drinks and dinner. You want to come?” he asked, trying to convince me before it was too late.
But the moment had passed, replaced by loud, insecure ranting that insisted that Spencer wouldn’t have avoided telling me his birthday unless he didn’t want me to know. That meant he either didn’t enjoy making a fuss out of his birthday, or he didn’t want me to, specifically.
“Uhh...”
“Don’t answer that,” Spencer cut in, swiftly raising a hand to dismiss the other man whose name I finally learned. “Thanks Derek, I’ll be there in a minute.”
“Suit yourself,” he mumbled back. But Derek, in all of his disappointment, didn’t fail to draw out one more flustered laugh from the two of us who remained as he gave a tiny half-wave and sang, “Goodbye, Bunny.”
Spencer’s neck craned back, never once leaving his friend until he had safely entered the restaurant. Once he was sure that he was safe from ridicule, or at least observation, his entire demeanor changed.
“I’m sorry about that,” he offered, but I couldn’t accept. If anyone had been a bother here, it was me (and my friends).
“No, I’m sorry I bothered you!” I rushed.
The silence stretched between us, an unsettling reminder that we rarely interacted outside of work. That he’d never known me to party, and I’d never thought of him doing something as routine and normal as celebrating a birthday. It shouldn’t have been strange, but it was.
Perhaps that feeling was what drove me to continue, proudly stating, “I promise that I will have all your work ready first thing in the morning.”
It wasn’t until Spencer’s eyebrows furrowed and his mouth opened in a strange, lopsided grin that I’d realized I made a mistake.
“Um...” he spoke through laughter, “Tomorrow is Saturday.”
“I’m very motivated?”
Thankfully, he saw the humiliation and was happy to offer me a graceful escape from my humiliation. “How about I give you until Tuesday, instead?”
“Yeah, that’s probably for the best, huh?”
I gladly took it, staring down at my heels as I tried to find anything else to focus on. Anything that wasn’t his eyes that seemed even more powerful after dark. But true to the magnetism I always experienced in his vicinity, I was drawn back into golden irises full of an emotion that made my heart beat twice as hard.
“Where did your friends go?” he asked. I didn’t trust myself to answer, so I just threw my thumb over my shoulder and towards the bar behind me. I didn’t turn away from him then, too scared to acknowledge that I would be leaving him soon. That we would go our separate ways again and I would have to wait until Tuesday to drown in the honey of his eyes again.  
Sure enough, Spencer gave a solemn nod and cleared his throat before mumbling, “Right. You should probably go find them, so they don’t get worried.”
But I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to stay with him, the rest of the world be damned. I wanted to feel his eyes on me longer, especially when they started to wander my figure that I’d secretly hoped he would see.
I could pretend to hate my friend for calling him over all I wanted, but when I slipped into the costume hours earlier, I’d wondered what he would do if he saw me like this. And now that the answer was in front of me, torn between the exposed skin of my thighs and chest, I wanted to experience it for as long as possible.
With my fingers on the zipper to try and calm my heart, the inebriation manifested in soft giggles as I replied, “I think I’m pretty safe with you, Professor.”  
Spencer didn’t need to vocalize his disagreement. I saw his contention in the form of wayward eyes falling to my hands that fiddled with the tiny piece of plastic keeping me covered. When they trailed back up the zipper teeth to meet my eyes again, they were filled with a hunger that took my breath away.
Unfortunately for us, though, our smitten haze wasn’t shared by anyone else in the vicinity. Especially not the drunk pack of men who passed, completely unaware of the amount of space they took up on the sidewalk. I don’t even remember one of them running into me, but I definitely remembered what followed in extreme, vivid detail.
Spencer caught me, quickly and more gracefully than I thought him capable of moving. His arms were locked around me, not only preventing me from face planting on the concrete but causing me to press my face directly against him.
Before he had a chance to say or do much of anything else, I placed my hands on his chest and tore myself away from the warmth of his embrace. Because I was already drunk enough on the alcohol — I didn’t need to be any more inebriated from him.
“S-See? You caught me!” I squeaked.
I didn’t miss the fact his hands stayed on my waist even with the added distance, his fingers subtly digging into and stroking the plush fabric. I didn’t try to stop them, either.
“Are you going to be okay? Should I take you home?”
I knew it wasn’t how he’d meant it, but my inner voice still pleaded, Yes, God, please, yes! My outer voice, however, clung to reason and respectability.
“No! Don’t miss your birthday dinner!” I insisted, but he didn’t look convinced. “I’m fine, seriously. I just suck at walking in heels.”
Any part of me that would have normally been offended by his insistence that I couldn��t handle myself while drinking was quelled by my desire to keep his hands on me as long as possible. Although there was enough space for my arms between our chests, I swore I felt his fluttering heartbeat against my fingers. I thought of hummingbirds.
Resigned to my stubbornness, Spencer took a moment longer to stroke patterns through the pink fabric wrapped around my waist before he sighed, “If you say so.”
“I do!” I giggled, leaning closer like I might convince him not to leave at all, “So you better listen up, mister Professor man.”
The look he gave me was sweet, honeyed bliss. But even that seemed minuscule in comparison to the way his hands slid over my sides, making their way over my shoulders and gently brushing the errant bunny ears back out of my face. He left them there, too, with a barely-there caress of my face.
“You look cute,” he said, like it wouldn’t break my heart.  
Shier than he’d ever seen me before, I somehow managed to still look him in the eye as I answered, “So do you.”
It was a good thing I’d been paying attention, too. If I hadn’t been staring into his eyes, I would have missed the flash of chaotic playfulness that appeared just as he glanced down at the space between our chests.
I wouldn’t have been prepared at all when he dropped one of his hands from my face to the zipper of my costume. Not to say that anything could have prepared me for the way it felt to have his knuckle brush against the skin just below the lace bralette that had been meant to protect my modesty.
Before I could even comprehend the delicious friction of our skin, it was gone. Spencer pulled the zipper up to my chin, releasing the plastic in favor of grabbing hold of my chin once more.
“Be careful with that zipper,” he instructed, “I don’t need you getting hypothermia this early in the semester.”
Unsure of how else to respond, my body responded on instinct as it stammered, “I-I promise.”
“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked again, and my autopilot continued.
“Double promise. Promise squared.”
“Okay. You have my number so... call me if you need anything.”
I absently nodded, but Spencer accurately concluded that I hadn’t actually processed what he’d said. When he let go of me, he took the time to smooth out the bunched up fabric over my shoulders. I tried to convince myself that he was just interested in the soft fluff, but it was hard to ignore the hunger that’d only grown stronger. The darkness that rivaled the moonless hallow’s eve.
“I don’t mind giving you a ride home if it means you get back safe,” he said with a deathly seriousness strongly contrasted by the flippancy that followed. “Otherwise I’ll have more work for Tuesday.”
I was grateful for the shift, because it made the loss of his hands hurt less. My chest filled with laughter that quickly burst from me with frantic, messy words.
“Of course! The work. For Tuesday. Okay! Thank you!”
“For what?” he also said through laughter.
“I— don’t know.”
Spencer turned away from me, looking behind him at the obligations that would tear us apart. I wondered if he, too, was busy contemplating how well it suited just how different we were. How two establishments side by side could house such different things. How we were frequenting opposite ends of the spectrum.
Whatever he was thinking about, however, it didn’t break his spirits too badly. Because before he sent me on my merry way, he flashed me the goofiest little bouncing peace sign before he sang, “Hop along, little bunny.”
So I did, turning back to my life and letting him return to his. But I couldn’t shake the feeling of his eyes following me until the darkness of the bar swallowed the space between us.
Still, I didn’t need him to be there to remember how it felt for his hands to roam my body like familiar territory. I saw that look in his eyes every time that I closed my own and remembered how it made my legs shake like weak stems bending to the wind.
I decided then that it wasn’t the worst thing in the world that he’d seen me in my costume. In fact, I think he quite liked it.
 ——————————————————
 There are few things more relentless than Derek Morgan. Death and taxes, perhaps. When it came to mocking me, there wasn’t a single missed opportunity. Even at the darkest hour, I trusted him to be consistent and predictable.
That was precisely why it made no sense that I had made it through an entire dinner and drinks outing with the team without him mentioning what had happened. Not even once. I almost let myself be relieved. Perhaps time spent with a child that can talk back did him some good, I thought. But when the time finally came for us to take our leave, I realized my mistake. He wasn’t holding back out of the kindness of his heart.
No, Derek wanted to wait until there was no escape route. He wanted to have me trapped in a car hurtling down a highway before he spoke the words that he’d been waiting to say all night.
“So... Bunny.”
“Her name is (y/n),” I quickly corrected. Unfortunately, Derek wasn’t in a merciful mood. Although there was a notable smirk on his face, his next words were uttered with a hefty dose of skepticism. A warning that it was a subject that ought to be approached with a critical sincerity.
“Her name is Trouble. That’s what her name is,” he said, shaking his head.  
“She’s just my teaching assistant,” I said like I might actually convince myself, though we both knew that I wasn’t going to convince him. “It’s fine.”
“Is that what they’re calling it nowadays?”
But that time, it was me who issued the warning.
“Stop,” I ordered, meeting his eyes to find him hiding his genuine concern under jokes that weren’t really jokes at all. “I respect her. She’s very bright and she earned her position.”
“I never said she didn’t. I know she’s probably smart, but I also saw the way you looked at her.”
The words felt like a blow to the stomach — yet another reminder that my affections for her were so thinly veiled they might as well be scrawled across my skin. He didn’t need to be a profiler to notice that I was fond of the girl, but it certainly made it worse.
Because he knew that I was lying when I muttered, “You don’t need to worry about it.”
He knew that I was lying, but he still asked, “Why’s that?”
“She’s...” I started, pausing while the word tried to form on my tongue. The word that had haunted me ever since those damned girls mentioned it. That short, simple little noun that had taken a cursory affection and turned it into full blown lust.
“She’s a virgin.”
Derek’s brows jumped up his face, his jaw dropping the same way mine had when I first heard the news. Then, just as I had, he put the pieces together and realized that it should have been a foregone conclusion.
“Trouble with a capital everything,” he half laughed.
But this wasn’t a joking matter, and I really wished that I could make him believe that. That definitely wouldn’t happen, though. Not when he looked up to see me hiding behind my hands, sinking into my seat like it would get me out of the conversation.
“Don’t be ridiculous. She’s obviously waiting.”
It was the wrong thing to say. I should have seen his response coming from a mile away. But I didn’t, and so I was forced to listen to his childish giggles that were followed with an even more lighthearted crooning.
“Yeah, waiting for the right professor to come teach her the lesson on the birds and the bees.”
“Cut it out.”
Without even looking, he astutely observed, “Kid, you’re blushing.”  
“Yeah, because you’re talking about me fuc–”
The word never made it out, getting caught between my teeth as I bit down on my tongue damn near hard enough to make it bleed. I wished it would. I wanted the iron to drown me and rid me of the sinful things it sought to do, instead. Opting for a more… distinguished explanation, I eventually stammered the rest of the thought.
“You’re talking about me... deflowering my significantly younger employee!”
“You can say fuck, Reid,” he deadpanned, “I think you’re old enough now.”
“I don’t want to. It sounds too... crude.”
I didn’t expect him to understand. How could he? He’d only seen her when she was at her most provocative… by far. Part of me envied him, to be able to sequester her innocence and view her as just another girl.
But she wasn’t like anyone else. She was an untouched bloom, a magnolia of unearthly shades. A beautiful blossom that had broken through the concrete walls I’d maintained for so many years. A tantalizing taste of the life outside that I refused to let in.
A fucking tease.
“Too crude for little miss innocent bunny?” Derek cooed, and it was so uncomfortably close to my thoughts that I couldn’t help the way I snapped back.
“Are you done?”
As we pulled into my parking lot, Derek just waved off my hostility, recognizing it as nothing but misfired shame and anguish at the thing I wanted being out of my reach.
“Yeah, I’m done. I hope you had fun, even with the teasing.”
I chose not to dignify the second half of the statement, climbing out of the car like I couldn’t step away from the conversation fast enough. But of course, I knew that only made my guilt more apparent. My culpability was clear and conclusive. There was no argument to be made.
“You know I’m right!” he shouted just before the door shut. A final reminder, one last cautionary call for the beast inside of me to keep itself hidden lest I allow myself to sink my teeth into something pure.
“Goodnight!”
Few things changed when I reached the confines of my apartment walls. Fantasies had only devolved into a vividness that was borderline frightening. How easily I could get lost in visions of her, only promising my return in exchange for my imagination agreeing to become a reality that I would get a chance to experience.
But that wasn’t fair to her. She was just a girl doing her job with an astounding amount of patience and understanding for her hopeless romantic of a boss. For a moment, the guilt became so overwhelming that I let it win. I managed to swallow my newly acquired memories well enough to navigate my nightly routine without wishing she was there every step of the way.
Wishing that she would call me. That she would grant me the excuse to return to her, to touch her as freely as I had earlier. I imagined a world where, upon arriving to her destination, she invited me in.
As I collapsed on my bed, I wondered if she would have preferred the privacy of my home. A place far enough away from other students and academics to finally see me as something more than a superior. Something attainable in a way she never seemed to be.
Just as I closed my eyes to give in to the dreams, my phone buzzed. The sound set off every nerve in my body, all of them very poorly coordinating to allow me to grab the device and turn it on to reveal her name.
“Hey Professor! I just wanted to let you know that I got home…”
I’d never opened a notification so quickly, but I should have waited. I should have paused and taken the time to notice that what I was opening wasn’t just a collection of letters and symbols.
It was a set of pictures.
Pictures of her.
“Safe and sound and zippered up. No hypothermia for this bunny tonight,” she tagged onto the end, “Sweet dreams!”
How could I ever dream of anything but her? How was I meant to turn off my phone now, knowing that she was there; her drunken, lustful stare on display? I only tore my eyes away from her face long enough to notice her surroundings. I took extensive, painstaking notes on the color of the sheets on her bed and the way the zipper I’d tugged at to control myself from taking her had fallen away again.
I could feel the softness of her skin against my knuckle again. I heard the way her breath nearly broke at the force with which she sucked in air at the feeling of me touching her. How hard she pressed herself against me, how her back arched when I held her and how she never even tried to stop my hands from finding new places to rest.
They worked diligently now, too, trying to keep her awake and with me for as long as I could, but also wanting to free myself of obligations so that she wouldn’t notice how long I’d stared at the pictures she’d sent.
“Goodnight, little bunny,” I sent before adding, “I’ll be counting rabbits instead of sheep tonight.”
As if to reward my efforts, another picture flooded my screen. Her face was scrunched up in an adorable innocence, half covered with her hand but still effortlessly beautiful.
I stopped myself from responding again. I forced myself to stop, to prevent treacherous hands from calling her and begging her to let me come to her. It wasn’t fair — it was manipulative, downright evil, even — to take advantage of her inebriated state to hoard any insight she might provide.
But she’d already sent these… So, would it be so wrong to indulge in her? By touching my own body to the thought of her, would I taint her? Did I care even if it did? Maybe it was for the best to plant the seed of impurity now, to strip her of her power over me.
But deep down, I knew that I would still want her. I would still wish that the hand that sneaked beneath the sheets belonged to her. I could almost feel it as my hand traversed familiar territory. It would be new for her, and it would be new for me to feel the delicate, unmarred skin of her palm slowly sliding down my stomach. Her fingers bashfully brushing through soft curls at the base of me, still too nervous to hold me the way I needed her to.
Her face would be buried in my shoulder, with dew from her breath wetting my neck and raising the hairs on my arms. I would take her hand in mine and guide her to wrap her trembling hand around my cock.
Just like I was doing to myself now, with my other hand still holding the phone displaying the image of innocence. My hand wasn’t as soft or inexperienced as hers would be, but as long as my eyes stayed on her half-lidded gaze staring back at me, I could pretend.
I could hear her panting my name— my real name, Spencer— in my ear, praising the feel of silky skin beneath her fingertips. She would whisper about how she wanted to feel it elsewhere, too. She would beg for me to replace a hand for her most precious place.
That damned angelic girl showing her hand on the zipper would beg me to steal away her innocence. She would unveil herself slowly, knowing that I needed the time to memorize every inch of her skin as it was seen by another for the first time. Seen by me, and only me. The vision would be for my consumption and indulgence.
I wanted it. I wanted her.
My stomach tensed as I pictured the girl staring back at me straddling my hips. I stroked myself harder, faster, letting my thumb trace down her body on my screen.
If I stole it from her, would it be mine?
Would she be trapped as I was, only able to feel anything when I was with her? Would she dream of me? Would she cherish each and every memory of my touch and play it back in her mind? When she felt the urge to break and burn, would she picture my hands lighting the match?
If I ruined her, would she be mine?
I pictured the girl on the screen with tears in her eyes, her mouth stuck open in a silent scream and her hands clutching desperately to mine. I imagined how tightly her body would grip me as I fucked her. How hard it would fight the intrusion of my sinful touch. How I would hold her down despite the resistance until she gave in to me. Until I broke her, thoroughly and irreparably.
She would be mine.
That was the thought that took me over the edge, all energy that was not delegated to my hand feverishly stroking my cock remained with my other hand to hold her picture in front of me. It never even wavered, never once shaking and risking losing any clarity. Even my eyes refused to close all the way.
She would be mine.
The warm, sticky mess of my desire coated my hand and stomach, but all I could think was how it would feel to mark her as mine. To feel the excess drip back down my cock as she collapsed against my body. To know that she would never be the same, never be wholly herself again. That she’d let me inside of her soul and that when I left, I hadn’t left empty handed.
She was already mine.
 ——————————————————
| Part Four |
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liminalminds · 2 years
Text
Okay gang, i know i haven’t been posting for a while but i am OBSESSED with how well Easy on Me by Adele works for Show!Polin, but also Penelope’s arc as a whole and even her relationship with El. So much i’mma break it down;
There ain't no gold in this river
That I've been washin' my hands in forever
I know there is hope in these waters
But I can't bring myself to swim
When I am drowning in this silence
Baby, let me in
Okay so first things first- LITERALLY no gold, like the Featheringtons are always struggling to stay part of the Ton, but Pen is like…extremely alone. She doesn’t have Felicity, she seems to have nobody but El and LBR that friendship was a little wonky from the beginning, and she certainly doesn’t have El at the end of season 2. I think this one is pretty self-explanatory tbh but like when Pen isn’t being picked on, how often do people actually talk to her? Not at her, but with her? I don’t actually know tbh, I’m willing to bet not a whole lot.
Go easy on me, baby
I was still a child
Didn't get the chance to
Feel the world around me
I had no time to choose
What I chose to do
So go easy on me
I MEAN COME ON DOESN’T THIS READ LIKE PEN BEGGING FORGIVENESS FOR THE MARINA SITUATION OR WHAT. I mean whatever you think of her actions she joined the Ton as a sheltered CHILD, and I don’t want to hear that she didn’t try because she did what she knew how and teenagers make mistakes and she’s already been punished enough- but that aside, she’s literally begging for him (or El, or Ton as a whole) to go easy on her, to recognise that she felt backed into a corner and that she was a stupid kid and kids make mistakes.
There ain't no room for things to change
When we are both so deeply stuck in our ways
You can't deny how hard I have tried
I changed who I was to put you both first
But now I give up
I think Col, Pen and El are some of the most stubborn creatures I’ve ever had the pleasure of watching lol I love them. Col and El are Bridgertons so of course they’re stubborn as mules, but it feels to me like Pen needs to be stubborn because that’s how she sticks up for herself, and she knows that she has to stand by the choices she makes for better or worse because nobody else will stand by her. Obviously not a healthy mindset, but hey that’s what GROWTH is for, baby.
And you can’t convince me that Pen has tried so hard for both Col and El- she tries her hardest to impress Colin constantly, to catch his eye, and the second El mentioned she disagreed with Whistledown she changed her whole style just to get El to like her again. TELL ME THAT ISNT TRYING- YOU CAN’T.
And whether her actions were right or not she definitely put them both first several times, ahead of herself and her own family. And Pen has to stop doing that, both for her own sake and because, well, it’s clearly not working in her favour lol. It’s like every time she tries she messes it up further and she’s beginning to accept that.
Go easy on me, baby
I was still a child
Didn't get the chance to
Feel the world around me
Had no time to choose
What I chose to do
So go easy on me
This is the same as the last chorus, but I think the tone changes because of the verses it’s sandwiched between. It’s less of a plea and more a request, it feels less desperate as she’s reaching peak honesty.
I had good intentions
And the highest hopes
But I know right now
That probably doesn't even show
And WHOOMP, HERE IT IS. The acknowledgment that even if her intentions were purely golden (or even mostly), that intention doesn’t equal impact. This would be Pen at the moment she realises that actually she has done a lot wrong, even if she believes it’s for the right reasons the impact it has had isn’t up to her, and she leads into the last chorus with this understanding.
Go easy on me, baby
I was still a child
I didn't get the chance to
Feel the world around me
I had no time to choose
What I chose to do
So go easy on me
And this final chorus isn’t about forgiveness, it’s about acceptance. Be angry with her, rage at her, but go easy on her. Don’t assume she’s a heartless villain or insipid wallflower, because it’s not just black and white. If you want to be upset with her, if you want to hate her, then fine- Pen accepts the good and bad parts of herself, and all the things she’s insecure about, and is saying to HERSELF to “go easy on me.”
Anyway if u want me I'm crying abt Stranger Things atm lol luv u all xoxo
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ohheyitsokay · 3 years
Note
Omg I'm SO sorry!!! I'm the soulmates pain AU anon, I was completely aware you were the one with the milestone!! I saw the post through Molly's rb and I was almost completely sure I had opened your blog to send you the ask but alas, the Tumblr app can never give you any certainties. That long-ass message was completely dedicated to you, I still can't quite grasp how I managed to send it to scribbledghost 🙄🙄🙄 Sorry!!! Congrats again, I love you!!!!
for reference a Din Djarin x reader soulmate request where your soulmate feels your injuries and pain
hello, dear heart!
I wanted to say, before anything else, thank you. I've reread your words multiple times since you sent this, confirming they were to me, and they really mean the world to me. thank you so, so much! anyway, your idea is fantastic, I had a lot of fun with this one! I hope you like seeing what I did with your already wonderful thoughts 💕
ps it's well documented that I'm a big fan of sprawling thoughts, so please never apologize for sharing them!
warnings: mentions canon-typical injuries, a bunch of fluff. at least enough for a couple of throw pillows
>>
soulmate requests / follower celebration
<<
There's a short burn on his forearm when he wakes.
Din stares at it, wondering at the dull ache, trying to place the injury from yesterday's adventure when it hits him. Hot and golden warmth, flooding through his chest, thawing his flesh against the cold filtered air.
It's one of yours.
A burn, on his forearm.
And selfishly, indulgently, he pauses for a moment, mind slipping away from duty and expectations to dwell in the daydream of his soulmate.
First, his mind creates an image of a blurry mandalorian caretaker, gently moving around a kitchen in the covert. You stir a pot, tapping the spoon on the side before setting it down. Hearing distant calls, you turn too quickly and oh - a sliver of burn along your arm.
Din wants to help, wants to pull you away from the domestic .... danger, and he rushes forward. Your helmet turns to him and he almost sees it - before his mind can no longer produce the answers he aches for late at night.
The second image is of you, in armor as gleaming as his own, in a thick, unrecognizable forest. The hairs on his neck are at full attention, already subconsciously wanting to shout - but you don't need his help. You're breathtaking in all versions of his daydream - but watching you fight with practiced ease punches the air from his lungs. For a moment he feels self-conscious of his awkward maneuvers and slapdash fighting but then his mind pulls him back. You're protecting someone, or else you wouldn't have messed up - you never do, injuries from you are too rare - but you shove them behind you, shooting an enemy over your shoulder before your helmet snaps back. There are so many - you're surrounded - and a hot, sharp blaster bolt grazes your forearm before your fury is truly unleashed.
He runs his fingers over the burn, almost giddy at the possibilities.
Mandalorians are few and far between, but he's grateful he has a soulmate, and even more thankful you've kept yourself out of harm's way almost entirely, since you'd been connected.
As he dons his layers, the shine of his armor reflects bruises and scrapes littered across the expanse of his skin. His own, from his journey, and one beautiful little burn from his soulmate.
And then they're covered, and the armor is tied securely in place, and he leaves his daydreams in the room as the ship door slides unceremoniously shut.
-
You hiss at the burn, clutching your arm.
Great. Just what you needed - another injury to add to your impressive collection.
At least my soulmate gets a gift from me this time. You roll your eyes.
The vendor next to your stall is a sweet lady, already apologizing for her steaming pots and pans and offering you compensation.
The credits would be nice, but you could hardly justify taking anything, especially since it was your soulmate's fault your body was riddled with aches and pains in the first place.
Waving your hand, you accept her counter offer - a bowl of her perfect broth and noodles - before retreating. You sell cloth, from beautiful dyed lengths tucked away to sturdy, unstainable blacks, and it was days like today that you thanked your stars for that choice.
There's a thick pile in the middle that you perch on, sinking into the folds as your body cries at you, and you sigh over your soup in relief. The burden of waking to webbing bruises and sprawling scrapes and the more-than-occasional broken bone is eased by your stall - sitting and haggling until the sun goes down. That is, unless there's drama in the market, as it seems there is today.
In the distance you hear shouts, more than those of vendors selling meat on sticks to passing warriors and merchants - the taunts of drunkards.
Someone is coming, and you almost laugh when you see his form in the distance, because he's trying and failing to be inconspicuous. It's impossible, with his gleaming armor, but still he ducks into shadowy spots, forgetting - or maybe ignoring - their inhabitants.
"A Mandalorian has graced our market," your neighbor remarks dryly. They were respected, but it was well known that chaos followed them. You share a look, both wishing you were wealthy enough to conpletely pack up shop. If anything, a logical person would put away most of the stock and hunker down for a few hours. Weighing the odds was difficult: if you were lucky, the chaos wouldn't bother your business, and shoppers might be drawn out, hoping for entertainment and spending as they waited. If you weren't, a wayward burst of plasma or blaster fire would destroy your whole month's stock.
You looked at him again, the Mandalorian kneeling down the street. His form was... almost handsome, formidable but careful. He was light on his feet, seemingly with gentleness on his mind, and it drew you in like a moth to flame. You decided to stay, and hope for the best, your curiosity pulsing like your bruises.
And you were lucky, that day, because he ducked away not a moment later, taking the exciment with him.
Until, he came back the next day, this time on the prowl, stalking up and down the edge of Dicer's Row, one hand on his blaster and the other atop a bulky, wriggling bag. This time, you ventured to stand, folding and refolding your displays as you watched him through your lashes.
And then he made his move, and you sighed, feigning a yawn to cover your disappointment from your neighbor's knowing smile. She shouldn't be wiggling her eyebrows over the box wall between you - honestly his type were more annoying than anything. A crash from the alley confirmed it: there was no way a guy like that cared about his soulmate. The gentleness from before was surely a trick of the light.
Your whole side lit up with pain, the impact of something hard against your whole side and you groaned, settling into your mound again. Any curiosity or attraction was snuffed under your annoyance and pain, and your mood soured like fruit left unpicked on the tree.
Selfish, you thought, glaring as a chicken ran squawking from the commotion. What a jerk.
-
The next day, you tried to maintain the sentiment, huffing as he wandered the stalls.
Why does he keep coming back?
You'd have thought his time here was over when he'd dragged that lowlife out of town yesterday. But here he was, buying a crock of soup at the stall next to you, and ignoring her comments about how he couldn't eat it with his helmet on.
She had warmed to him, since he'd put money in her pocket, chattering in a way that kept him stuck for long moments.
It struck you as strange - he almost seemed too awkward to leave, like her returned generosity actually meant something to him. A man like him... surely could've just walked away.
But he stayed for awhile, nodding and looking at the spoons she carved in her free time, and you almost thought he was looking at you, too. Then he ducked his head and planted himself in front of you, and certainly he was.
For all the years you'd spent weaving words to sell your fabrics and goods, you'd never been so speechless. The Mandalorian was large, sharp, shining edges and bulky canvas packs tied to his shoulders - he seemed out of place, filling your whole stall, shuffling as he loomed over you.
He asked for soft brown things - children's clothes.
"Of course, I - I mean, yes, just over here -" you tripped over your words, caught completely off guard by the shape of him, the feel of him just an arms width away, and his request. You stumbled from your seat, nearly toppling in your hurry and his gloved hand wrapped around your arm, catching you.
"You're injured," he stated not really asking. It was... overwhelmingly intimate, him knowing, and acknowledging it, like he cared.
"Yeah, my..." you swallowed, trying not to get lost in the dark glass inches from your face. "My self-centered soulmate keeps getting himself nearly killed."
Even with your heart thumping in your chest, you couldn't keep the bite from your words, bitterness having collected over years of nursing injuries that were consequences of someone else's actions. He didn't let go of you for a moment, his helmet pulling back and tilting, like he was startled.
Then he was cautious, unbearably so, releasing his grip like a child freeing a captured creature when it was time. The topic was dropped, and he made his purchase quickly, but before he left, he paused. The Mandalorian's gloved hand ghosted over your cheek, slowly moving a hair back into it's place, and if you hadn't known better, it was almost an apology.
And then, thick cape swirling in the dust, tiny clothes in tow, he swept away, leaving you along with your whole body alight with a foreign longing.
-
Din felt as though he'd been stabbed.
Hot, hot feelings poured through his chest, spreading fast as fire as he desperately tried to sort through them.
You - you were incredible, fragile and bruised, with the most stunning, determined eyes he had ever seen. Not a Mandalorian, and you had a ... a soulmate, a fucker who left your skin littered with marks, burdening you with ...
He felt panicked, shocked, and guilty, just as he had when you'd told him. It had never occred to him that his soulmate might be there... out there, constantly burdened by his recklessness. His body screamed for attention, something he so often ignored, but this time, he was almost deafened by it.
His feet, legs, arms, chest, heart - all of them wanted him to return to you, in your little fabric stall. To... what? Truly, he hadn't the slightest idea, so his mind won out, shaking a little to try to reign in the muscles that he'd taught to obey him.
He couldn't go to you.
But, he couldn't stay away.
-
He was back in the market, and this time, he wasn't being subtle about staring at you.
Tall and ... slow, he waded through the crowds, making his was towards you like he was following a careful path.
"Can I help you?" You stood, moving almost involuntarily towards him. "Was there something wrong with my -" he was already shaking his head, hands reaching to make you shush.
Waiting, an irrational part of your mind wished he would touch you again, would place his big hands on your skin and sooth the aches that haunted your life. It was unfair, but you didn't stop it, couldn't if you tried.
Carefully, he slid a single finger to your arm, pushing up your sleeve to reveal the little burn you'd gotten.
He was being gentle. It made you want to stomp your feet, jealously welling up in your heart like bile, bitter and hot. How could it be, that someone so powerful had learned so quickly, wanted to, and he wasn't - he wasn't even your -
Then he moved again, pushing up his own sleeve and your thoughts tumbled over each other. It was intimate, even more than before, desperately trusting, as his skin near glowed in the morning light. And there was a burn on his skin, hairs singled like they'd met the edge of a pot of boiling broth.
You wanted to punch him. This man has spent years tossing his body around like he had one one spare, making your own as brittle as bread crust and - you wanted to kiss him. This man had learned after a single day, the impact of his actions, and had been nothing but kind.
The forehead of his helmet pressed into yours, and the two sides of your mind compromised.
Later, words would come - they had to.
But now, your eyes closed, and you sighed. He had the rest of your life to make it up to you - and he would, you were sure.
<<
taglist:
@fangirl-316 @scribbledghost @writeforfandoms @beautyagegoodnesssize @princess76179 @mrsbentallmadge @horton-hears-a-honk @saradika @zinzinina
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capricorn-stark · 3 years
Note
can you do some headcanons for 90s conner kent where his s/o has the personality of buttercup from powerpuff girls and is kinda just a grumpy person but cares for their loved ones (aka conner;)
Conner Kent Headcanons ft. A Buttercup-esque SO
pairing: conner kent x reader 
warning: none
a/n: i can't express how much i love this idea and how much i stanned buttercup as a child, what an asbolute icon
When I think of 90′s Superboy, I also end up thinking of Reign of the Supermen Conner from the animated movie, so we’re gonna mix them together just a little since it’s funnier that way lol
You see him at one of his fan meet-and-greets, and you only even go up to him because your friend freaked out and absolutely had to get an autograph from him. You stick out like a sore-thumb amidst the crowd of screaming girls (and boys) because you literally could not care less about being there
And he notices, because as soon as he asks if you want his autograph in his classic Conner-way, you straight up say “no thanks”
And that’s already enough to make him think he hadn’t heard you right or something, so he amps it up and shoots you a delightfully crooked grin
“Oh, I get it, you want my number instead. All you need to do is ask, babe.”  And to the horror of both himself and his fans:
“Hard pass. Can we leave now?” 
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Will he ever fully recover from that event? Probably not. But will it make him want to go after you to find out how on Earth he messed up so bad? Absolutely.
He’s never met a girl who was as disinterested in him as you are at first, and despite the initial horror he’d feel because of it, he’d end up finding it to be a whole lot more intriguing and will actually be invested in figuring you out
Your relationship would be surprising to Young Justice and to all of your friends, but you’d actually balance each other out great
Conner’s just naturally loud and proud, he likes having all eyes on him and being the center of attention (most of the time)
You’re way more reserved and despite your stony, seemingly cold attitude, he’ll discover that you’re actually very sweet in your own way
Your sarcasm, deadpan-humor, and seemingly grumpy attitude all help to keep his ego a little less overinflated, and just generally keeps him way more grounded
He loves trying to annoy you and dropping snarky quips here and there just to get you to laugh and relax around him
Would possibly be the type to throw around horrifically cheesy pick-up lines that you either wouldn’t understand or would understand but act like you don’t
“Are we in Paris right now? Because I think Eiffel for you.”
“No, Conner, we’re at your grandparents’ farm in the middle of Kansas-” 
Alternatively:
“Are you from Tennessee? ‘cus you’re the only ten I see.” 
“Again, we’re literally in Kansas, who taught you geography-” 
He knows they’re trash, but you’ll be laughing by the end of his ridiculous attempts, and that’s exactly what he wants 
He’d also love showing off, whether that’s by using his exorbitant allowance from Lex to buy you equally exorbitant clothes, jewelery, etc. (all of which you’d immediately try to insist that you don’t need, only for him to ignore it because now you have complimentary couples outfits), or just using his strength to pick you up when you least expect it, spinning you around and even flying with you
And unless you really hated it, he’d probably ignore your protesting and be his cheeky-self until you finally relent and let him have his moment with you
If you’re a superhero working with him in Young Justice, the team would probably tease you for you vehemently refusing to acknowledge how much you actually like him
But he knows you love him when you’re wrecking your opponents on the field and always having his back, always making sure that he’s safe even though he doesn’t always need protection
He also appreciates and knows that you're a total badass who could possibly whip his ass after seeing you on the field, but that’s another matter
Having struggled with both his fathers being unable to support him emotionally for a long time, being unable to love and accept himself for a long time, and having to slowly come to the understanding that love can come from unexpected places is what makes him like you so much
Being with you makes him grounded, but it also makes him realize that you love him for so much more than his quote “totally sexy looks and charming personality” - you see him for who he is and love him all the same
Even though you’re bad at expressing that, your actions and the little moments you have express that sentiment just fine
And that’s what makes him adore you as much as he does
___________________________________________________________
DC Tag List: @cipheress-to-k-pop
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serowotonin · 3 years
Text
falling ; bakugou k.
pairing ( bakugou katsuki x fem!reader ) wordcount ( 2.4k ) genre ( fluff & basically pining )
↷ a hc-styled narrative describing the four stages bakugou katsuki goes through as he finds himself falling for you . . .
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STAGE I ( impression ) ;
the first time bakugou laid eyes on you was during the entrance exam at UA. 
back then, you were just another face in the crowd of faces he was going to have to beat to earn his spot in UA
the first time bakugou spoke to you wasn’t memorable to him either
like with everyone else, he was loud and rude and made it very clear he wasn’t interested in playing friends
after that you became a part of the class, just another extra, someone who’d just get in the way
that was all he thought you were… 
until you kicked todoroki’s ass one day during training
the teachers had paired everyone in the class and told you to practice your 1-on-1 combat skills using your quirk 
bakugou, who was paired with kirishima went first
you and todoroki were to be the last pair
despite a good effort put up by kirishima, bakugou still ended up winning that round
when it was finally yours and todoroki’s turn, bakugou paid extra attention
in his mind, he knew todoroki was powerful and someone to watch out for
but what happened was quite unexpected
you maneuvered easily through todoroki’s attacks with a combination of physical prowess and creative usage of your quirk
let’s just say his ice didn’t work on you and he was caught off guard, allowing you to snatch a win 
needless to say, most of your classmates were a bit surprised at first
bakugou included
they knew you were strong but they didn’t know you were that skilled
whatever the rest of the class thought didn’t matter to bakugou though
all he knew was that now he had to keep an eye on you
STAGE II ( perspective ) ;
after that event, bakugou did indeed keep his eye on you
it started off with him observing your moves whenever the class had to do any training exercises 
he saw you fight with todoroki a couple more times after that
those didn’t end in easy victory for you as it did before because todoroki was now more wary of you
however, the way you evaded and countered his attacks was something to be praised
in bakugou’s subconscious opinion at least
your moves were carefully thought out and bakugou could see that
he could see the effort and practice you had put into perfecting them
not only that, he could also see the natural talent that you had to be able to become this strong
and it wasn’t only your fighting capabilities
you were also smart
maybe he hadn’t noticed it before but he did now
you seemed to always know the answer when a teacher called on you and your grades were great
slowly, but surely, you gained respect in his eyes 
if he knew one thing about you, it was that you were maybe the tiniest bit better than the other extras 
for a while it stayed like this, him acknowledging you but never making it obvious and you just doing your thing
that was of course until one day in the morning before class started
mina, kirishima, and sero were talking about things as they usually were and somehow the conversation led to you
they were talking about how strong and smart you were and going on about stuff
bakugou must’ve turned his head in their direction or something but mina noticed him listening so asked him cheekily what he thought of you
“y/n? of course they’re strong. anyone could see that.”
he said that pretty loudly and didn’t seem to notice you walking into the classroom
and of course you heard
“did my ears deceive or did the bakugou katsuki just praise me?” you teased
he was pretty embarrassed, blushing and sweating a bit but trying to hide it
soon after though, class started and the ordeal was forgotten
but something about that interaction led to you and bakugou becoming closer
closer in that instead of passing the other off as another strong classmate as you usually would, you’d actually greet each other and talk 
you’d say hello to him in the mornings and goodbye after school and he’d just grunt or nod your way
but this was what it meant to be close to bakugou anyway
during the weeks that passed, bakugou found himself noticing you even more
before he only paid attention to your skills and thought about you as an enemy or rival of sorts
now it seems as if he’s just noticing the little things about you and your personality that make you who you were
he wasn’t doing it on purpose god forbid
no no it was just him being unknowingly observant
weeks turned into months and months turned into years
in a blink of an eye, you were all well in your second year
with everything that happened, you and bakugou became close
close enough for you to tease him at random times and close enough for him to ask you to fight him as training
by then it was safe to say bakugou knew you
he knew the little quirks you had 
he knew your different smiles, your different laughs
he knew your favorite foods and your not so favorite ones
he knew the many different little things that made you you
STAGE III ( contradiction ) ;
before the start of the third year, the class decided to have a little get-together party of sorts
to celebrate the start of their last year in high school and to catch up as everyone’s been busy with internships and whatnot
you spent the break away from tokyo so it’s been a while since you saw the rest of the class
naturally you were excited to be able to meet them all casually again before the intense studying and training that awaited you all 
bakugou, on the other hand, wasn’t too excited
frankly, he could do without seeing the class before school
but when he heard you were going to be there, he also agreed to go
so there you two were with the rest of the class at a cinema buying drinks and popcorn before your movie started
the neon lights and the prospect of popcorn lit up your face and bakugou couldn’t help but stare
there was just something, something he couldn’t quite figure out
it’s not that you were beautiful, it’s not that you looked cute in that outfit, it’s not that your smile was making his heart flutter
no it wasnt any of that true though they may be
you just.. you looked nice
thats why he was staring
yeah he hasn’t seen you in a while and you come back looking *nice* 
of course he would stare
anyone would
apparently you had noticed him staring though, so you sent a wink and a grin his way before turning back to the popcorn and drinks
in other words, you killed him
with ridiculously high levels of cute and nice
kirishima and sero were just watching the whole thing happen and hell was it obvious to them
their boi was falling hard
now they knew he’d never admit it and they knew you weren’t likely to do anything about his “crush” even if it was obvious to you too
so…
while bakugou was busy helping you carry your popcorn, they devised a rather devious plan
operation: jelly burst
objective? none other than to make explody boiy jealous
for what reason? no reason really it’s just fun to mess with him and this is probably the first time he’s had this big a crush
once everyone finished buying popcorn and was walking into the cinema, operation: jelly burst was put into action
“hey y/n ! come sit next to me” — sero
so you did, nothing strange bout that, sero was a good of yours anyway, nothing strange at all
bakugou moved to come sit next to you too but kiri hurried past him and sat down on your other side before he could
“oh hey bakubro didn’t see ya there sorry”
the seat kirishima stole was the last seat on the aisle
and bakugou was forced to go sit somewhere else
alone
poor guy</3
the seat he found was a few rows above yours though and all went according to the jelly burst plan
by the end of the movie, bakugou was in the foulest mood and no one, except for the 2 lads sitting on either side of y/n, knew why
operation: jelly burst didnt end there though
see they got him jelly but they haven’t gotten him to burst
the next week at school, kirishima and sero both acted really nice to you
it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary but they did talk to you just a tad bit more than usual
either way bakugou noticed big time and he did not like it
he did not like it one bit
the jelly was there alright
it was just boiling to unprecedented levels
pretty soon, the boys dumped the idea of operation: jelly burst 
mainly cos it was taking too long 
but also because bakugou had become at least 10x more hostile
except to you of course
for some reason, a reason absolutely no one could figure out(sarcasm intended), he was just
quiet around you
didnt yell but didnt really talk to you either
whenever anyone else, kiri and sero especially, tried to talk to him though, he’d shout louder and be a lot ruder to them 
he’s just agitated
and he knew why he was that way
he’s just in denial about it
he’s also in denial about the reason why
why couldn’t he just accept his feelings and act on it already?
kirishima asked him that one day in the dorms
he saw bakugou staring very intensely straight at you without blinking for a full minute
“look man, don’t even try to tell me you don’t like y/n. it’s obvious and i’m not an idiot. you aren’t either.”
“i know shitty hair. it’s just… i’m me. and she’s y/n. nothing’s ever gonna happen.”
“you don’t know that”
“but i do. cmon, she’s just so fucking perfect even with all her flaws. and i’m just the loud guy with exploding hands and no emotions.”
kiri was surprised honestly
this wouldn’t be the first time bakugou was insecure around him but the way bakugou talked about you and how he implied he wasn’t worthy
damn that hit kirishima 
“bakubro, i’m gonna help you”
STAGE IV ( intimacy ) ;
ever since he told kirishima abt what’s been bothering him about you and ever since kirishima declared he’d help, bakugou became more…
quiet
he was still loud, but he just became a soft kind of loud now(?)
it was like he got calmer and he was assured that things would be okay
of course things were not okay
why? because ever since bakugou fully accepted his feelings for you, he doesnt know how to act around you
the other day you asked him what he wanted to eat for dinner cause you were cooking tonight
his answer:
“you”
“umm..”
“-you can make anything you want. i’ll eat whatever.”
that and a lot of other little awkward incidents started occurring
also maybe it was just the weather but he always seemed red whenever you saw him
it wasn’t the weather though
it was him being shy and nervous and flustered
which made bakusquad extremely weirded out cause seeing him like that is like seeing aizawa cheerfully smiling and wearing bright color clothes
it was weird af and was just not right
anyway, mina’s advice to him was to try to get closer to you
“but we’re already close”
“no i mean closer on a personal level. ask her how her day was or ask her random stuff about her likes and dislikes or her hobbies or literally anything”
“oh… ok then”
and so he tried that
he tried getting closer to you by greeting you every morning and sometimes asking you if you slept well
you found it odd
it certainly was odd, but you didn’t mind
if you ask him why he asks about your sleep he just goes red and says he needs to make sure his opponent for his afternoon sparring session is well-rested and healthy
speaking of the sparring sessions…
he asks you to spar more often than usual and actually makes small talk during your breaks
he was also a lot nicer to you, offering to help carry stuff for you and assisting you in the little things
like getting a mug from the kitchen’s high shelves or picking up the pencil you accidentally dropped
what he did worked though and within a few weeks, the two of you got a lot closer
the next step, as mina put it, was “making sure she knew you weren’t interested in her as a friend”
now that was hard for bakugou to do
“it’s not that hard. you could just tell her.”
bakugou: ..??
“basically confess”
bakugou: wha- *shortcircuits*
CONFESSING
he never thought about that
he actually has
he knew in his mind he’d have to do it eventually if he wanted to have you
but he didn’t think it would be *this soon*
“dont think that much and just tell her you like her”
“you’re making it sound easy”
“because it is!”
he groaned internally
he’s faced tons of villains and been in quite the number of fearful situations but the fear he felt now was completely different 
“look if you’re afraid of rejection just confess like this”
*sero clears throat*
“*y/n i like you and i would like to be something more than friends. i’m not going to pressure you into anything so if yoh don’t want to we can just pretend this never happened>:)”
“...”
bakugou ended up confessing the next day though
just not like that
it was a spur of a moment thing and he wasn’t really aware he said it until you responded
the two of you were sparring as usual and you had just gotten close enough to knock him down and pin him to the ground
in that moment you were just so beautiful and amazing and everything and he just couldn’t keep it in apparently 
“i like you”
“w-what?”
“what?”
“did you just say you liked me?”
“like not liked dumbass”
“:o present tense o:”
well long story short, you like him too and you tell him that and you two just sit there grinning like idiots 
from then on things didn’t change much
you and bakugou still talked, although maybe more than usual
and still sparred with each other, although maybe less seriously and more playfully
some were surprised when it became known you were together
some weren’t 
whatever other people thought though, they couldn’t deny one thing:
bakugou looked at you as if you were the world
STAGE ∞︎ ( fallen ) .
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note ; i started writing this soo long ago but then abandoned it cuz thats just me:”] bUT i decided that since its his birthday i might as well finish it up and finally post it u.u,,, also TYSM @animebsposts for helping me with this ily and ur amazing<3
taglist ; ( send ask to be added ! ) @lilikags​
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elysianslove · 4 years
Text
heaven on your lips; matsukawa smau
synopsis; he finds refuge in that no matter what, you will always come back to him. he finds refuge in that he’s the sole reason for your pleasure and happiness. whether that be from the sidelines, or from within the four walls of your home, in the confines of your bedroom. no matter what, you’re his, and he’s yours, even if neither of you seem to notice it.
pairings; matsukawa issei x fwb!reader
genre; fluff, smut, humor
warnings; cursing and inappropriate language. nsfw and suggestive themes. smut under the cut in this chapter! 
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masterlist  |  previous , chapter seven , next
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the phone laying by you on your bed blares to life for the nth time, issei’s name flashing across your screen as he calls you. it’s his fifth phone call, but there isn’t a limit to the amount of texts he’s left you. it’s all blur of guilty curses and apologies, but it matters very little to you, not when you can’t think of anything but the last words he’d told you, the last words you’d accepted from him. 
do i really have to make an excuse to not want to talk to you? 
have you always meant this little to him? it’s true that this arrangement is what brought you two closer, why you learned to find comfort in him, how the trust between you increased, but you had always been friends before that. being friends with benefits with him shouldn’t be the foundation of your relationship, but maybe, it is. maybe you’re another body for him to use, another for him to discard once he grows bored, nothing special, as you had once assumed otherwise. 
lost in thought, the sound of your doorbell is muffled, only acknowledged by you once it grows too repetitive, too loud. you don’t think twice as you stand up from your bed, sniffling lightly, tears trapped behind sorrowful eyes as you walk out of your bedroom, towards your home’s front door. 
the moment you open it, the visitor pushes himself inside without a second thought, speaking up, “why the hell aren’t you answering my calls?” 
your mind finally processes the person before you, and you slam your door angrily, facing him as you retort, “why the fuck are you here?” 
issei sighs, movements erratic as he paces, brushing his hand through his hair. he dons a simple black shirt and black jeans, a familiar chain peaking out from the collar, and his hair’s an unkept mess, the way it always is when he spends too long running his hands through it, leaving you to swat and smack at his arm, telling him he’ll go bald before thirty at this rate. he never listens. 
“because you weren’t answering my calls,” he replies, as if the answer were obvious. 
you scoff at him, moving past him and starting towards your bedroom. unsurprisingly, he follows. the moment you’re inside, he reaches for you, hand grasping at your wrist. you don’t pull at it, you don’t brush him off. 
“don’t push me away,” he sternly says, warns, and even if he keeps his expression neutral, and his tone as steady as he can manage, you can tell he’s angry. because you know him. you know issei, know him like back of your hand, know him better than you know yourself. but angry at who? at you? at himself? for what reason? 
cutting off your train of thought, he leads you closer to him, and you falter in your step, hesitating, face turned away from him. he’s closer now, close enough to easily lift a hand up to your jaw, to urge you to turn your gaze towards him again. when your hesitation deepens, so does his hand’s hold on your jaw, and he digs his fingers harsher, turning your face, lifting your chin up. 
his eyes are dark, observing you, eyeing you. you want to be angry at him, and you want to push him away, want to draw a red line between you, a proper boundary, to put a stop to it all, but then he kisses you. it’s not an uncommon or unusual action, especially that it’s initiated by him, but it feels different. he feels different. his mouth on yours feel warmer, hotter, more passionate than ever, more fueled by desire than before. his lips fit against yours perfectly, as they always do, and he tilts his head more, the hand on your jaw slipping to your throat, cupping your neck lightly as he deepens the kiss, his other hand rising opposite to the other one on your neck. 
impatiently, he presses a knee in between your legs, pushing you backwards, towards where your bed stands, and it’s when you pull back, and breathlessly, you interrupt, “issei i—” 
pressing his mouth against yours, your words are swallowed by him, and finally, your knees hit the back of the bed, and you fall, with him on top of you. “don’t think,” he tells you. “just be— just be with me right now.” 
mouth finding yours urgently again, issei’s hand moves to your tank top, pressing beneath the clothing to feel your warm skin. it travels upwards, reaching for your breasts, as his lips kiss wetly, hotly along your cheek, to your jaw, down to your neck, marking you. his fingers expertly pinch at your nipples and his rough, large hands knead and massage at your breasts, and you feel your skin grow warmer by the second, overwhelmed with desire and need. 
hurriedly, he tugs your tank top upwards, and you raise your arms up, allowing him to peel the clothing off of you, before he tosses it carelessly to the side. your own hands urgently follow, pulling at his thin shirt, and he hears you, loud and clear. sitting up on his knees, he reaches for the collar of the shirt from behind, grabbing it and pulling up, shrugging off his shirt before he falls on top of you once more. his bare chest presses tightly against yours, your hardened nipples grazing along his skin as he kisses you again, gasping lightly against you, his breathing heavy. 
your remaining clothes are disregarded in a blur, too quickly for you to process, eliciting too little care from you, and this time, when issei falls onto the bed, you’re the one to fall on top of him. his cock stands heavy against his stomach, thick and hard. it brushes against your skin as you crawl on top of him, straddling him as you kiss him with a gasp, sending a shiver down your spine. you’re impatient as you settle your soaked cunt against his cock, dragging your folds along, smearing your arousal, and the feel of him against you has your arms weakening, pushing you to fall into his arms. 
“please, want you inside of me,” you mumble against his shoulder, your breath faltering as you continue to grind against him, your desire increasing to a point of a hazy mind. 
“can’t,” he replies, strained through gritted teeth. “don’t be stupid. you’ll hurt yourself.” 
you choke out a moan at the impressive length pressing against you, at his words, at his voice, so deep, so raspy, so gravel. shivering in his hold, you press harder, feeling his hand soothingly travel down the arch of your back, to meet the roll of your hips, and past that, to press at your entrance. 
“you’re making such a mess already,” he coos, tilting his head slightly and reaching with his other hand to grab your face, lifting it off of his shoulder. your brows are furrowed deeply, mouth slightly open, your cheeks squished in his strong hold. and just as he’s raised your face to look at it, he sinks two of his fingers inside of you, stretching you out, and watching as your eyes roll back, your mouth trying to open wider to gasp out more, but only drool spills. “already so fucked out from just my fingers?” he teases, pressing in deeper, before beginning to thrust at a steady pace. 
“i-issei,” you hiccup, hands grasping at his forearm as he fucks you with his fingers, your cunt drenching his cock and balls sticky from your arousal, the slide of his fingers easy. as your orgasm approaches you unbearably fast, you tighten your fists around his arm, your body tensing and arching into his fingers. his pace speeds up, until the band snaps and you yell out a sob, moaning brokenly as the tremors course through you. issei’s hand remains around your face, his fingers buried in your cunt. “ready, ready, ready, please,” you chant, begging. 
he tuts, slipping his fingers out of you. “are you? can you take it?” you nod urgently, as much as you can manage with his hold on your jaw. he hums in consideration, feeling you try to press against him as much as you can. this is in no way enough prep for you, not with how big he is, but he’s long since known your body, long since learned it and all it’s capable of. it had been a rhetorical question. of course you can take it. no one can like you. 
his hand on your jaw trails down to your shoulder, his other, sticky, hand finding your waist, before quickly, you find yourself flipped onto your back, with issei hovering over you. instinctively, your legs spread for him, and he finds space to settle in between them, lifting himself up closer to you, until his elbow rests by your head. hand gripping his cock, he aligns himself at your cunt, pressing the tip at your entrance. the size difference between you and him, in everything, is so mesmerizing, but especially as he stares down at your cunt trying to take him in. he can see as the tip disappears inside of you, and if he had no self control, he’d cum right away. your walls are so inviting and warm, so tight around him, pressing hotly around his cock. 
your hand squeezes his shoulder, and when he looks up at you, you whisper to him with a shaky voice, “slow, slow, please.” 
he glances back down at where he’s sinking into you, at your tightened stomach, at your heaving chest, your hardened nipples, your swollen lips, before he meets your glossy eyes, and with a rough voice, he says, “no.” 
when his hips snap against yours, you scream, unmindful of your neighbors or the entire building’s residents. you scream, your hands latching onto his shoulder as you try to push yourself further away from him, as your body seizes and tenses and trembles awfully and your cunt spams and clenches around him. 
“did you just cum?” 
he sounds taunting, but also, weirdly proud. as if this were a stroke to his ego, somehow. it probably is. 
“there we go. that’s my girl,” he continues, lifting himself onto his hands instead of elbows. looking back up at him, you’re greeted with his chain dangling right by your face, his face wearing a pleased expression, grinning down at you. now comfortable, he starts thrusting, pulling out before pressing back in quickly, efficiently. with every thrust, your body jerks, breasts bouncing, moans and wails hiccuping. “who’s fucking you this good, hm?” 
you sniffle, hands gripping at his biceps as your legs lift off the bed to wrap around his waist. 
“who’s fucking you stupid, doll?” leaning closer to you, he whispers against your lips, “say my fucking name,” his hips harsher against yours. 
you cry out, digging your nails into his arms. “issei,” you breathe out. 
he snaps his hips against yours, rougher, as if it were a warning. “louder,” he orders. 
“issei! issei, issei, fuck, please,” you scream. you’re not even sure what you’re pleading for, but he delivers, as always, and his thrusts are faster, somehow deeper. your hand hesitantly moves from his arm to clutch at the chain hanging close to you, before you tug harshly at it, pulling him down, closer to you, before you press your lips harshly against his. it’s a bruising kiss; it’s more so that your screams are muffled slightly, and he eagerly, breathes you in, gasping and slipping his tongue in between your lips. your hands move to cup his face as he fucks you harder, his strokes growing sloppier as the kiss deepens. 
you part momentarily, and he lifts himself up slightly, breathlessly asking, “can i—”
you nod hurriedly, kissing him again as you mutter against his lips, “inside of me, please, please.” 
groaning deeply, he breaks the kiss, head falling into the crook of your neck as he fucks himself closer and closer to his high, until finally, he shudders against you, and you feel him still, hips pressed tightly against yours as he spills inside of you in long spurts. you can feel it, feel his cum coat your inner walls, feel it ooze out as he pulls back slightly, before thrusting in slowly, riding out his high. the kisses he places upon your neck hold a stark difference to the previous ones, but it’s — nice. it’s calming, steadying, as the two of you settle down, your breaths and hearts with you. 
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once you’re clean and hydrated, you settle back in your bed underneath your blanket in a new pair of underwear, opting against a bra or shirt. issei sits by you, in just a pair of boxers, fiddling with his fingers. it’s quiet between you two, but you don’t necessarily feel the need to speak, and it’s mostly from the exhaustion steadily growing on your shoulders. 
“why did you choose me?” 
both the question and his voice are surprising to hear after the continuous silence, and you freeze momentarily, your brain slowly waking up and processing the question. “choose you?” you ask. 
issei sighs. “yeah, why didn’t you fuck any of the other guys? like makki, or oikawa— or maybe, i don’t know, iwaizumi.” 
“i can’t imagine it happening, honestly,” you reply with a shrug. 
“but you said it.” 
“said what?” 
“that if you could fuck any of us, it’d be iwa,” he finally says. 
thankfully, this time, you don’t take long to register his words and the situation’s no longer as confusing as it initially was. you lift yourself up, slipping from underneath the blanket and sitting up, a teasing smile growing on your face. “are you jealous? is that what this is about?” you tease, eyeing him carefully. 
issei flinches, before turning to face you, completely unaffected by your revealed breasts, his eyes accusing as he frowns at you. “why would i be jealous?” 
you laugh, leaning back against the headboard. “you don’t have to be jealous,” you reassure him. your hand lifts to settle on his arm, refocusing his gaze on you. “nobody could ever compare.” 
different from last time, his heart clenches in his chest, and painfully so. you look so fucking pretty, even if he’s just fucked your brains out, and if your hair’s a little messy, and you’re literally topless, with your eyes a little tired and a little puffy and red from crying — during sex, with him. you’re already shrugging off the blanket, rising from your place on the bed and stretching out your limbs, but issei’s stuck on the moment that had just passed. 
nobody could ever compare. 
standing by your side of the bed, you lean forward, pressing your hands on the mattress as you say, “can we cuddle when i come back? i really need to pee but fighting with you is terrible.” 
he finds it in himself to laugh, and nods, watches as you leap and walk to your bathroom, before he falls against your bed’s pillows. he is so fucked. 
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end note; the idea for how this chapter would go came to me at like 7 in the morning when i still hadn’t slept but i was really tired so i typed this out in my notes: he goes to her house anyways and apokogizes and they have make up sex (she rides him) ans rhen they talk after, and he asks her “why didnt u fuck any of the other guys” and she’s confused and keeps asking “what do you mean” and he’s like “why not makki and oikawa ..... or iwa” and then she’s like “can’t imagine it” and then he’s like “but you said it?? on the gc??” and she’s like “whT are you talking about” and he’s like “that if you could fuck any of us it’d be iwa” and she starts teasing kike “are u jealous” and then he’s like “why wiuld i be jealous” and she starts laughing and teasing and more banter between them until at the end laughter dies and she just wuietly goes “you don’t have to be jealous. nobody compares” and SCENE! wait more and then she interrupts like “oof i need to pee” and he groans jokingly and goes “we wrre having a moment!!!!” and when she comes back she asks if he’s staying and he’s like yeah ill stay and then they get under the covers and all and then he asks “mind if i cuddle u” and she’s like “issei ur dick was JUST inside me come snuggle me” 
pls the amount of typos in that can you tell i was trying not to lose the idea and my train of thought lmfao. i hope you all enjoyed this chapter!!! <333
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love-takes-work · 5 years
Text
When someone toxic needs a friend
I just wanna add a little personal reflection to the discussion of Spinel’s treatment in Steven Universe: The Movie.
A few signposts so you know where I’m starting with this:
A criticism I’ve seen: 
Steven was not particularly warm to Spinel. He did not hug her. He did not offer to be her friend. He spoke carelessly and triggered her toward becoming murderous again. He only cared about what she could do for him.
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A perspective I’ve seen: 
LOTS of people with borderline personality disorder or strong feelings about abandonment personally relate to Spinel and are critical of Steven from this perspective.
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Rebecca Sugar’s commentary on Spinel:
The thing about Spinel is that she’s a really toxic person. 
She’s so toxic that she’s literally trying to poison people. 
In my interactions with friends who have had a history difficult enough to make it hard for them to trust other people and sometimes even actively want to hurt others, it’s just a very difficult situation to navigate. In the case of Spinel and all of these characters, that’s extremely exaggerated because cartoons have the ability to be extreme exaggerations. I wanted to explore what it’s like when you’re trying to help someone who really doesn’t want to help themselves, who wants to embody the negative feelings that they have about themselves. I think that’s something really real. I hadn’t seen that in a cartoon before. 
Spinel, unlike many other characters, actually has the goal of hurting people, which is new territory for the show. She really wants to hurt Steven, and there’s a reason that she does—because she’s in so much pain. I just wanted to explore all the dimensions of that.
I also think Steven has his way of trying to handle and dissolve conflict. It’s not necessarily a good way for him to handle this situation. It really leaves him in a difficult state, and I think what I wanted to show in the way that they interact is that at a certain point, when you can’t help someone, you have to be able to protect yourself. 
Ultimately, he can’t really convince her to change. It’s something she’ll have to want for herself. But what he can do is protect himself from her, making it impossible for her to hurt him. 
It’s sort of up to you if you would like to love her. If you watch this movie and she, you know, frustrates you, that is totally fair. I want that to be a big part of who she is.
[From the AV Club interview]
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So here are a few things I want to shed light on.
It’s very interesting that Rebecca intended Spinel to be read as “a toxic person” because so many fans fell in love with her, said they’d be her friend, hated intensely on Pink Diamond because of what she did to abandon the poor Gem, and sympathized with her directly. But Rebecca was looking at Spinel from Steven’s perspective. And that’s also what I did.
I’ve been Steven. I have VERY much been Steven.
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When you meet someone who was done dirty, when you recognize the horror they’ve been through, when you see how much pain they are in and agree they have the right to be angry, it’s natural for empathetic people to offer themselves as comfort.
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But when you’re Steven, you also know it isn’t YOUR fault either. Before you have the ability and experience to set boundaries, you can get sucked into other people’s stormy waters and think you’re helping if you drown in solidarity with them. What’s really important to preserving yourself is learning that you can stand on the boat and toss a life preserver. That it doesn’t ACTUALLY HELP to jump in the water and sink with them.
Some folks are angry that Steven didn’t jump right into sacrifice himself on the altar of friendship in the service of an intense, literally murderous stranger who tried to poison him and his planet and lash out at his friends, robbing them of their rich pasts and their relationships because all of it hurt HER so much. It is SO easy to understand WHY SPINEL WAS ANGRY. But nothing she was doing to Steven, his friends, or the Earth was going to fix her problems, and furthermore, she FULLY UNDERSTOOD that it was NOT THE FAULT of any of the people she took her anger out on. It was irrational, yes, and that is part of her dysfunction. But also, in these situations, what helps explain it still does not excuse it.
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Some have railed at Steven saying he somehow forgave genocidal tyrants like the Diamonds but couldn’t be friends with a damaged Gem like Spinel who just wanted friendship. The big difference there is that Steven got involved with the Diamonds when both parties believed he was a different person. The Diamonds believed he was the lost Pink Diamond, and Steven has also spent much of his superhero life believing he WAS his mother and was therefore obligated to accept punishment for her crimes or to clean up the messes she made. Now that he knows he is not her and that she did some pretty horrible stuff, he also wants the right to stop feeling responsible for every person Pink hurt in the entire region of space.
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Steven gave Spinel basically compassionate treatment. He did not abuse her. He did not insult her. He occasionally coddled her when it seemed important (and though some said he was too businesslike while he pursued his mission, he was literally looking at the world ending within two days if he didn’t solve the problem). And most importantly . . . .
He let her leave the garden.
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Spinel stayed in the garden all those millennia because Pink Diamond told her they were playing a game. All that time, she had visions of Pink returning so she could see her smile, hear her laughter. We see a sequence where she tried to follow Pink out of the garden and Pink manipulated her into staying willingly. We watch those feet leaving and one pair of feet staying behind. We see Pink disappear.
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When Steven goes to leave the garden, Spinel follows in the same manner. Some have criticized him for letting go of her hands.
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But he invited her out of the garden. He didn’t say stay. He said come with me.
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As he sang about her deserving someone better, he was sincere. But he did not say the person to make her feel found should be him. He did not want to take on another person with thousands of years of baggage who would require a specific brand of attention and so much tenderness to avoid snapping. He did not allow her to be held by the hand and led out. He recognized that she needed encouragement to leave this place because of what was done to her, but he wanted her to take the steps.
Compassionate people are crushed all the time under the weight of needy people who make it hurt to love. People like Steven can acknowledge that Spinel deserves love and deserves to be happy without accepting that it’s heartless to stop short of personally doing it. Especially when you literally have to take physical, mental, and emotional damage as a general consequence of offering support and counseling. It is sometimes just beyond what you can do.
I made the mistake several times of getting very close to someone who treated me poorly while taking comfort in my presence. I cared that they were hurt and I didn’t know how to say “You deserve love” without stepping in and loving them. In EVERY case I was involved with, the person went from initially grateful to “why don’t you help me more?” shockingly quickly, and two of them deliberately tried to create situations where I would be trapped with them and isolated from others. 
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I could get very personal here but I don’t think I need to. Those of us who relate all too well to Steven wanting to help others will have been in this situation. Your heart hurts for people who live with pain that has never touched you, but when they’ve made it clear with one of their first actions that they feel satisfied at the idea of ruining your life, trusting them could mean the end of you. Especially if they demand that you risk life and limb to fix and save them before you’d dare to call it love, and especially if they want to be fixed without feeling responsible for initiating any of it. Some people mistake suffering for working hard toward a goal. Both can hurt but only one is constructive. If I’m expected to spend extensive resources on someone, I need some partnership in the goal, and I can’t accomplish that with someone whose wish for companionship manifests as “I want you to feel as bad as I do, and will take steps to hurt you so I have someone to cry with.”
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Steven risked his actual life while he didn’t have powers so he could go talk to Spinel, and he wouldn’t fight her when she wanted to fight. He protected himself while she spent her anger. He STILL put himself in the line of fire far more than a less compassionate person would. He took time and tenderness to listen to her story and sympathize with her, tell her she deserved better, bear witness to what she’d become after being treated like a discarded plaything, and bring her hope with promises of a new future and a way to feel found.
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Sadly, Spinel flipped back to being murderous at the first sign that Steven might be about to prioritize someone other than her, reframing his reasonable needs as if he was planning to abandon her, isolate her, discard her. This was a trauma reaction, yes, and she isn’t entirely to blame for being upset because she was worried she was just being used and none of her actions were logically thought through. 
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But does someone ever “deserve” the friendship of a specific person who can’t feel warm toward them because of their OWN bad experiences? 
No! 
Steven has a big heart but he has his very own huge storehouse of trauma, and being physically attacked with his family and planet put in danger over the actions of his mother is at the top of the list. Instead of assuming that the person who has trauma the loudest is the most hurt, can’t we just acknowledge that Spinel’s and Steven’s respective traumas make them NOT the best match for friendship?
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The ending of the movie, with Spinel going off with the Diamonds, might seem a little disturbing with all the codepencency floating around there, but if you want to talk about compassion, I think this is a good place for Spinel to start. 
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She just wanted to make Pink Diamond laugh and enjoy her life. She longed to do that for so long and then it all ended when she found out she would NEVER GET TO DO IT. I think bonding with the other Diamonds and having a familiar, safe place to experience the kind of love she’s used to will be a good FOUNDATION for building herself into a person beyond that. For now, she needs comfort. I hope they treat her well.
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sanris3 · 3 years
Text
A fine line
Pairing: reader x san Genre: friends to lovers(?)/angst Summary: You realize you're in love with your best friend San and unsure how to approach it. Playing with the thin line between friends and lovers. author notes: This is my first piece in a while, I hope everyone enjoys it! in a silly goofy mood at 5am Word Count: 1.6k
The both of you definitely started off on the wrong note. When you and San were first introduced to each other, it was difficult to get close to him. He radiated this intimidating aura and with your shy self, there was no way you'd approach someone like him. You had mutuals through a couple friend groups, it was only natural that you'd end up friends. However, there had been a misunderstanding through a mutual friend and you never thought to clear the air.. because after all, you weren't in a position to fight for the friendship anyway. The both of you left it as it is. Fast forward to 2 years later and the two of you are closer than ever. There was a stark difference between your personalities, hobbies, hell- even the way you both processed things were different. But oddly enough, you guys make it work. You were the epitome of 'opposites attract.' You'd never expect that a toxic relationship would deem you two as inseparable. San struggled a lot and you were there for him whenever he needed a shoulder to lean on. No one understood him but you oddly did. Looking at his situation, you found yourself looking in the mirror recognizing you had been in his position just a year ago. You desired to be there for him. You were reminded of the turbulent moments and unexplainable behaviors that took place- and unknowingly, you began to prioritize him. Not in a romantic way- more so, just ensuring San is doing okay because after all, he is your best friend. All you could think about were the empty moments you experienced when you went through the same thing, you didn't want him to believe no one understood him, because you did. How delightful would it have been if you had someone like this to root for you back then? San allowed himself to become comfortable with you. Sharing each vulnerable thought was a common conversation you two had and honestly- it was fascinating to learn how aware he was about his emotions because all this time, you believed he was emotionally constipated. Even after being friends for so long, the conversations you had never reached the depth that they did now. This was a sign he genuinely acknowledged you to be his closest friend. You'll never overlook the excitement you experienced at the realization he trusts you at his most vulnerable moments. It was happiness. This is what it feels like to have a friendship reciprocated. Vulnerable. Stable. Consistent. Several months go by and that relationship ends. You adhere to his side until the end, making sure he's completely taken care of; and even though it's challenging, you walk him through the emotions, keeping him together at his roughest moments. You had become his pillar. And that's exactly what you did, until, he suddenly cut off contact with you. You understood his heartbreak. He needed time to heal, but that time apart managed to lead through the most confusing part of your friendship. You missed him terribly but what could you do? He needed his space and you respected that. You hear from him for the first time for what feels like forever and you notice something is off. There's something about his aura that shifted- and you couldn't figure it out. Both of you are nervous to talk to each other after the sudden break but as always, you get through it and pick up on the flow once again. But this time it's different. There was a new feeling of awareness in your stomach when you got a notif from him- and for so long, you assured yourself it was because you missed him. Which was true. (at least for now.) There were many instances where you wanted to reach out and invade his space but that would only harm your friendship, and that was the furthest thing you desired to do. But you couldn't help yourself, you grew anxious that he would disappear on you again and started attaching yourself to him a different way and it was a scary feeling because you knew where this would lead to. "She was my person. It was rocky but I've never loved anyone so hard," he says amidst another vulnerable conversation. You try to bring him comfort by wrapping your arms
around him, gently pulling him in for a hug as he sobs again for the night. Your hands rub against his back, gently finding a pace. You feel his grasp on you tighten, hands clinging to you like you'll slip away. But you stay there, bringing him all the comfort he needs, he was still healing. There was that feeling again. Like always, you brushed it aside and never dared to ponder upon it. For the first time, your heart sinks when he's talking about her. It's a good day for both of you. Throughout your hangout you're able to pick up conversations like before, San is starting to smile again and joke a lot more often, the bright San you knew was returning and you were genuinely happy for him. "I knew you'd turn out okay, if I did, you would. It just took some time." you blurt out in the middle of silence as the two of you are watching a movie. He stops in his tracks to turn towards you, "Thank you." His lips curve up into a warm smile with his arms reaching out, unexpectedly pulling you into his arms. "You know, I'm sorry for disappearing. You've been nothing but good to me through everything. I'm grateful to have you around, I promise I'll return everything." You go along with it, loosely wrapping your arms around his frame. "It's okay." You answer with a pause before continuing. "I missed you a lot." "I did too."
There it is again. That feeling. As time went by, it was growing difficult to ignore the little jump in your heart seeing anything of him. A text? A call? Hanging out? Your wavering heart couldn't ignore. The overwhelming feeling was too much for you to handle so that day you ignore San for your sake. You took the day off to think about your feelings for the first time. Why him? Why now? It was hard to understand the sudden change in heart. You pondered over and over again if this was true. Overthinking leads one thing to another and the next thing you know, you're on your bed crying endlessly in the sheets. Out of all people, your feelings were stirred up by Choi San. For the next few months, it was a brutal game of push and pull. Not between you and San, but you and yourself. Slowly, you were filled with frustrations no one but him had answers to, it was driving you insane; One moment you would see San as a friend, then it would be more than that. The friendly gestures you were recieving from him were transforming to a different meaning in your heart. The pet names, the random compliments, the sporadic oversharing- oh you wished that it would stop. But a part of you knew you were acting like this due to the fact you were hyper aware of your feelings.
At one point you wondered what it would be like to feel his lips against yours. It was a confusing cycle you couldn't stand to seperate from him. How bad could it be if you started and ended things on your note? But if you revealed your heart, what if it backfired? There was a chance you'd lose your best friend and it was too risky to cross that line. You were desperate enough to go on dates, and of course, San encouraged you through all of them. There was a clear answer to your questions but the little hope you had in you, kept praying. Just maybe. You wanted San to feel the same way. Maybe it was the alcohol in your system, or you were tired of stringing yourself along- so you initiated the conversation about dating again. Of course, you were extremely careful with how you apporached the situation; One mess up and it'll change the dynamic of your bond forever. You thought about what would happen far ahead. Sure he accepts your feelings and there's might be connection but what if you guys aren't compatiable as lovers? would the both of you have the courage to love like you haven't been hurt? "San- Can I ask you for advice on something? Or not really advice.. but your input." The brunette gears his attention towards you fully, emmitting the same flustering feeling in your stomach. But you don't react physically.
"Is it something serious?" "Yeah sort of-" "Is this another joke you're play-" "I'm serious!" "Okay, what's up?" "what do you think about dating a friend?-" "what?" "just answer the question." "I'm scared it'll happen again." " yeah same, I get you." The both of you return to the movie, carrying on like the conversation didn't happen. The air turned thick. At one point the comfortable silence grew suffocation. Did he catch on or are you thinking too much? For the first time you realized how dangerous that fine line between friends and lovers were. In the end, you didn't want him to take responsibility for your actions. Why should San suffer because of your feelings? that was the last thing you wanted. Sure, you won't be able to kiss him and hug him, or feel his embrace in a much more intimate way- but he was by your side and that mattered. With that, you were happy and content. Even if his heart wasn't yours. "San?" "Yeah?" "I'm really grateful you're my best friend." "I could say the same."
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fruitcoops · 4 years
Note
Hey I was wondering if you could write something kinda angsty but with a pretty ending with the cubs, I’m trynna project getting stood up and turning it into something nice and good, even if it’s just in my head. No pressure but I just wanna smile for a bit and your work always makes me do so :)))
Hello lovely! I’m so sorry that you were stood up--that feels awful and whoever did it missed out on a wonderful person. I’ve combined this with some other asks in the same vein (y’all wanted my boys to hurt) so I hope you don’t mind. Sending love and hugs your way! Sweater Weather credit goes to @lumosinlove​ <3
1. Bad mental health day for Finn + pushing himself too hard + passing out (ft. Bee anon!)
2. O’Knutzy boiling over with a fluffy ending
3. Insecure Leo
TW for internalized guilt, vaguely implied self-harm (pushing himself too hard at practice), and relationship arguments
Finn had a few bad habits. He left dirty dishes in the sink, could never remember which setting the laundry was supposed to go on, and barely wiped his shoes on the doormat before entering the house. He wasn’t proud of his flaws, but he acknowledged that everyone had some—as long as they didn’t hurt anybody, it wasn’t the end of the world.
This one…this one was different. Even Finn knew that.
He gritted his teeth for the next set of squats, ignoring the ringing in his ears and the climbing nausea in his gut. The chart only said to do three reps, but he had been beating himself up for slacking a set earlier in the week and decided to do five to make up for it.
That, it seemed, was a poor decision.
His thighs were shaking when he finally put the weight down and he leaned on the wall to stabilize himself. “Fish? You okay?” Logan asked from the yoga mat to his right, staring up at him in concern.
“I’m fine,” Finn lied. “Just straightened up too fast.”
“D’accord.” He could feel Logan’s eyes on his back as he left the gym and headed toward the showers.
Finn’s worst habit was taking care of himself, and it wasn’t something that could be explained away as “oh, silly Harzy” like the washing machine. He made a mental note to take some ibuprofen before driving home so he would be marginally less sore in the morning, but he had the sinking feeling it would be a rough practice the next day.
Remus and Talker were playing some sort of volleyball with an old balloon between their stalls when he entered; he missed getting nailed in the head by a narrow margin and waved off their apologies with a forced smile.
A hand closed around his bicep as he passed, snapping him back to reality as Leo’s bright eyes came into focus. “Hey, lovey, is Lo with you?”
“He’s finishing up.”
A small furrow appeared between Leo’s brows. “Is something wrong?”
“Nope.” Finn faked a yawn and stretched his arm over Leo’s shoulder, dragging him down for a kiss on the cheek. “Cap’s workout just kicked my ass today.”
“That’s what they’re supposed to do,” Sirius said, rolling his eyes playfully as he passed. “You’re not a rookie anymore, O’Hara.”
“Yeah, yeah, alright.”
Logan entered the locker room a few minutes later; Finn closed his eyes and breathed in the thick steam of the shower until the fog in his head cleared a bit and he couldn’t feel the skin on his shoulders. It billowed off him as he dressed again and tossed the keys to Leo, who raised his eyebrows. “Me?”
“You. There’s a little bit of slush left, and you still need to learn how to drive in it.” And I feel like I’m going to pass out at any minute. He swallowed down the last thought and pasted a teasing grin on his face—what Leo and Logan didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them. It was his own fault for being lazy in the past.
-----------------------
What Leo and Logan didn’t know apparently did hurt them. In hindsight, Finn should have seen that coming before he passed out in the middle of a scrimmage.
The lights of the coach’s office made his headache even worse. “Care to explain?” Arthur asked in a voice like frost. To his left, Sirius was glowering.
“I already told Hestia—”
“Yeah, I know what you told Hestia,” Arthur interrupted. “I want to hear it directly from you.”
Finn sighed through his nose and picked at a stray thread on his jersey. “I…I pushed myself a little too hard at yesterday’s practice and didn’t say anything when I started feeling bad.”
“Why.” Sirius’ eyes were hard as flint.
“Because I didn’t want to be a pain in the ass! I can handle some aching muscles, it’s not a big deal!”
“Not a—”
Arthur put his hand on Sirius’ shoulder. “That’s enough, Black. O’Hara, I want you to look me in the eyes.” Finn raised his head. “This was a dumbass mistake and all of us expected better from you. Your safety and health come before any workout routine, and it is your responsibility to speak up before you scare the shit out of us by dropping like a rock.”
“I’m sorry, Coach.”
“Apology accepted. I also want you to call Heather when you get home and schedule an appointment with her.” Some of Arthur’s frustration melted into genuine concern and guilt crawled up Finn’s throat. “Doing that to yourself isn’t healthy, Finn. You’re a good man, smart, and I know you know better.”
“Can we talk for a second?” Sirius asked quietly, glancing at Arthur. He nodded and left the room.
“I’m sorry.”
“What the fuck, Finn?” Sirius ran a hand down his face, suddenly pale. “What the fuck was that?”
“It was stupid.”
“Yeah, no, I got that part.”
“I slacked off a set on Monday.”
“Wow, nobody’s ever done that before,” he said sarcastically, sitting down in the chair by the wall as Finn resumed messing with his hem. “You scared the hell out of all of us.”
“I know.”
“You know I’m not mad at you, right? I’m upset that you thought you had to do that at all.”
Tears prickled the backs of Finn’s eyes. “I know.”
“I’m sure as hell not your coach or your dad, but I’m going to say this as your friend, okay?” Sirius leaned over into Finn’s field of view. “Whatever you need, I’m here for you. This team wouldn’t be the same without you. I wouldn’t be the same without you. We need you to take care of yourself, Harzy.”
Finn nodded silently and Sirius gave his hand a quick squeeze, which he returned. “Does everyone know?”
“I told them you were under the weather, nothing more.”
“Classic media answer.” He tried and failed to crack a smile. “Thanks for not telling on me.”
“That’s not my job. My job is herding cats on ice skates for five hours a day.”
Finn’s smile was real that time and he managed a light laugh as he swiped away the dampness on his cheeks. “Love you, man.”
“Love you, too.” Sirius helped him stand up and hugged him tight for a second before letting go. “Speaking as someone who used to do the exact same thing, talking to Heather makes a world of difference.”
“I’ll give her a call.”
The cold feeling returned to Finn’s gut when they stepped out of the office; Leo and Logan were waiting by the opposite wall, looking angrier than Finn had ever seen. Sirius patted his shoulder once before walking off down the hallway toward the locker room, where he would no doubt deflect even more questions.
“Hey,” Finn said, barely above a whisper. Logan continued to stare at the ground.
“You lied to us,” Leo said bluntly. “Several times. Both of us asked if you were alright and you told us you were fine.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I accept your apology, but I don’t understand.” He ran a hand through his hair with a sigh. “Finn, this isn’t how we deal with things. We agreed to be a team.”
Finn bit his lip. I fucked this one up. “We did. I am so sorry for scaring you—”
“We’re not mad that you scared us,” Logan snapped, still looking anywhere but his face. “We’re upset that you refuse to take care of yourself and then lied to us about it.”
Leo nudged Logan’s shoulder before turning back. “Why did you do that, Finn?”
“I didn’t want to fall behind. I was just trying to make up for the set I skipped on Monday.”
“What? Twenty squats and some pushups? That’s not worth your health, honey.” The pet name soothed the terror clutching Finn’s heart and he took a deep breath. They still loved him. This wasn’t the end.
“It was a stupid thing to do and it won’t happen again.”
“Good. Let’s go home.” Logan grabbed his duffel bag off the ground and started walking toward the door; Leo looked like he was going to say something, but Finn gently took his elbow.
“He’s going to need a minute,” he said under his breath. Logan was a hothead about many things, but lying was in the top three. Finn knew he hurt him deep.
“Did you…” Leo trailed off and pressed his lips together as they followed Logan into the parking lot. “Did you feel like you couldn’t tell me?”
Finn shook his head. “No. This was all on me.”
“It’s just that I know I’m younger than both of you and I’m new to the hockey lifestyle, but I never want you to think you can’t trust me—”
“Leo.” Finn stopped walking and tugged on Leo’s hand, turning him around. Worry was painted all over his face and it sliced to Finn’s core. “I trust you and Logan with everything, but I got into my head about this and I wasn’t thinking about how it would hurt you. Please believe that.”
Leo sighed. “I do. I just don’t get it.”
“Neither do I, to be honest.” Logan was already sitting in the car with his headphones on as they crossed the lot. “It’s going to take him a while to talk to me, isn’t it?”
“He was really upset.”
“We’ll figure this out.” He tightened his grip on Leo’s hand. “We’ve made it through worse.”
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The apartment crackled with tension until Finn literally had to stick his head out the open window to get a breath of fresh air. Waves of frustration and hurt rolled off Logan, though he still refused to look Finn in the eyes.
After dinner, Leo slid into the armchair before Logan could get there, leaving only the couch available. They carefully sat on opposite sides—Finn stole glances at Logan out of the corner of his eye for the entire first half of the movie. Ninety minutes of action later, he felt something chilly poking at his calf.
Logan kept his gaze trained on the TV as he scooted his freezing toes under Finn’s legs. Relief flooded Finn’s veins; he felt a little like crying, but instead schooled his expression into a small smile and rested his hand on Logan’s ankle, where it stayed until the movie ended.
Leo had fallen asleep by that time, splayed out sideways on the cushion with his face smushed against the armrest. “Il est mignon,” Logan said softly. There was a beat of silence and he looked over at Finn. “He’s cute.”
“He is.” Finn cleared his throat and met his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Lo. I never meant to hurt you, but I did, and I’m sorry.”
“Promise me you won’t do that again.”
“I won’t.”
Finn had a few bad habits, but backing out on his promises would never be one of them.
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limitlessgojo · 3 years
Text
Blood Bound: Blackened Bond (Ch 16)
Warnings: Action, Coarse Language, Fighting, Descriptions of Blood, Death, Gore, Japanese Mythical Folklore, No Major Character Death
Previous Chapter: 土御門天皇 (Tsuchimikado)
Next Chapter: Inferno: Flames of Hell
Word Count: 3.3k
Tags: Kamo Noritoshi x Reader, Soulmates AU, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Fem!Reader
Taglist: @lessie-oxj @rizzo-nero @whoreuc @fkngkumiko @isl3t @gojoussunglasses @onepotatostand-blog @s-t-f-u-b-i-t-c-h @sunaswife @lordguameow @track5enthusiast @nayydoesthings
Notes: If you want to be tagged for every update, and specify if you're okay with NSFW posts or not, please mention it in the comments below ty ❤
This chapter is LONG, a lot longer than I expected haha, happy reading!
Chapter 16: Non-Standard
Noritoshi was in a shitty mood to say the least. He went home to his clan immediately after getting a summon. The clan head had discussed their stance on the upcoming war and is readying their jujutsu sorcerers for battle.
His half-brother had made a not too subtle snarky remark about you. "You've already gotten yourself a woman? Wonder if she even likes you. I'm willing to bet Homura's cuter than her." Secretly his brother was curious about you, having heard about your special grade status.
Noritoshi steeled himself, knowing his brother's playboy tendencies at his school.
"That's enough. I am quite serious about her, so don't even think of taking her."
He watched his brother shut up upon seeing him like this and left him hanging.
'Heeehhh? That Noritoshi is actually interested in someone? Interesting…'
Other serious matters aside, his father, as usual, asked about you, only for him to find out you've both gotten into an argument.
The head of the Kamo clan only raised an eyebrow. "That’s normal for every couple."
Noritoshi kept his temper at bay. But he couldn't help resenting his phone call with his father that day. If his father was less controlling and obsessive over their clan status, maybe it would have gone better.
No... He was also influenced by the elders. Ashamed as Noritoshi was to acknowledge it himself.
“We… broke up…”
At that, his father shuts his eyes, mood obviously souring.
"You are literally a fated pair, how is that even possible? *sigh* If it proves too difficult with her… well we had that list of marriage partners set up for you. Homura has made it quite clear she and her family would be very delighted to assimilate with ours."
Is this what Noritoshi wanted? A woman who obviously flirted with him as she lusted for power? No, he wanted you, who never inquired about his status. Just about his family, his mom, dad and half siblings.
You made it very clear you were worried about his family's well-being. And whether they would like you or not. You want him to meet yours. You never even asked him for a gift or much favors. (Though he had a feeling your family was pretty well off, based on your clothes and jewellery.)
And he loved the fact that he could breathe like a regular teenage guy around you. The only thing you’ve requested from him so far was honesty and transparency.
"No. That won't be needed. Y/N is mine. She is the only one for me." He spoke slowly and clearly. This is the first time he actually disagreed with his father. He'd lose his sanity without you.
"I expected as much, I've never seen you this determined about something before. Soulmates are so complicated." His father sighed out. "Do as you wish. It isn't wise for me or the elders to interfere with something as sacred and ancient as this soulbond you share with her anyways."
Noritoshi felt himself earn a small win at that. He was growing a backbone. "Thank you father."
“However! You cannot force her to love you back. Surely you know this. If you don’t get married by the age of 25, as per our clan tradition I’ll have you set up with another woman.”
Noritoshi inwardly sighed, resigned to his fate.
◇◇◇
Needless to say, you trained like a demon as the eve of Christmas quickly approached. Nobody dared come 10 feet near you as you perfected your Blizzard and Tornado techniques. It was normal to hear the crack of a sonic boom and see flashes of lightning around you.
You were hesitant to use your cursed technique reversal. You barely use flames and Inferno in general, but it can't be helped. But now you hold a pack of matches in your hand.
You lit a match and manipulated the flames. It danced dangerously around your fingers before you moved it from one hand to the other.
You were doing well. Spending a lot of time here on campus helped you to control your emotions and not let anger fuel your cursed energy like you did when you were younger. Those were such bad habits.
A wheel of flame circled in front of you. Very clean and stable. All of the sudden, a strong whirl of wind and empty space extinguished the flames like a vacuum … Only one other person in Japan is capable of doing that other than you.
You turned your head to the side and saw an incredibly tall man with snow white hair and a pair of sunglasses approached you. His bright baby blue eyes gently twinkling and peeking over the rims of his shades.
“Satoru nii, it’s been a while. Why visit me now?” You tiredly asked. He came up just a few inches away from you, staring down at you.
“I got a call from Hiroki. I’m here to help you with your special cursed techniques. It’s time, you’ve stopped holding yourself back Neko-chan.” He leered down with his trademark grin.
◇◇◇
You spend the entire afternoon getting pushed around by Satoru. This man was crazy strong. He kicked you against a tree. “OOF” you heaved.
"You avoid using Inferno. Is it because of your childhood trauma? I'm not shaming you but it's something you need to overcome."
You frowned at his words.
"You only have today to train with me y/n! Aren’t you honored I went out of my way from Tokyo to Kyoto?”
"Like hell I am."
“You’re not using the full extent of your cursed techniques. That power is your one true ally in this world. Trust it a bit more. Apart from your soulmate anyways, but I can see you and Noritoshi aren't exactly swell right now." Your eye twitched at that statement.
Satoru eyed the broken strands of red ropes that floated around you. Not a good sign. It was reaching out to the distance. Maybe to where Noritoshi is huh, Satoru wondered. Until he spotted one thin string, still very much intact and alive. He grinned.
‘This prick and his fucking special eye abilities’, you grumbled. He hit your back hard, “What bad language you have. Imma straighten you up today kitteeeen~”
He pranced around you and squatted to lean down to your level.
"But seriously, you say you want to get strong but you fear your own power kitten. Don't do that." Satoru pointed straight at your eyes. “Remove the fear of hurting the people around you. Because you’re literally fighting to protect the ones you love, focus instead on harnessing your cursed energy to fight. Your messed up emotions could cost you a fight, even your life. Doesn’t matter if you’re a special grade like me. At this rate you won’t catch up to me.”
You slumped to the ground in defeat.
“To be honest, I feel like my growth has stunted. I don’t know if it’s the lack of powerful opponents I’ve had lately.”
He sighed out so loudly and obnoxiously that your anger flared up at him. “Thaaat’s what I kept telling you. You shoulda come to Tokyo Jujutsu instead of here! 100% I would enjoy teaching you and I mean it. I could teach you ya know, and Yuuta is there as well. Another Special Grade, although his circumstances are quite unique and with the way he is right now, you have a better chance at beating him one-on-one since he’s a newbie to this world. And yet you kept saying you wanted to be here for your family.” He shook his head.
You felt as though your head cleared up all of a sudden. “Because I was here…. I was meant to be here. Satoru. I know it deep in my soul. Because I met Noritoshi and…. “ Your heart throbbed so loudly you heard it in your ears. A deep pain stabbed into you.
Ah right. You said you were over him. You broke up with him weeks ago.
“And? You’re not together anymore. Figure out your heart and I could let you reconsider transferring to Tokyo Jujutsu High you know?” He said with a frown.
Why does the idea of leaving Noritoshi behind feeling like you were carving your heart out? He isn’t anything to you anymore and yet…
No. Enough of this. You’re here to train and fight that curse that killed Sora. Your emotions were all over the place. Satoru came up to you and wiped your tears off your face.
“What are you doing to yourself y/n? Don’t lie to yourself. I thought you wanted to live life as honestly as possible.” Even Satoru looked concerned and troubled over your state.
You gulped. “Yeah you’re right. I told myself I wanted to get stronger and protect the ones I love. Now I’m just running away. Noritoshi at least has been trying to reach out to me, but I shut him down.” Your heart is hurting.
Satoru stared at you and the cursed energy that was rapidly pulsing around you. Then grinned. “Then... Fight me one-on-one right here right now. Let’s make sure to keep the damages to a minimum and take care of the buildings. All the other students are still here on campus. Sky's the limit since both of us can move well in mid-air. I want to see you control your emotions and fight me properly. I’ll hold back.” He said.
You took a deep breath and looked back up. “Challenge accepted.”
You’ve envisioned this countless times. You wanted to see how you could match-up against Satoru and all his years of experience. You weren’t expecting to win, but you were not going down without a fight. Your cursed technique is actually a good matchup for his.
You can manipulate molecules. Though you suspect his control is on an atomic level, and thus could overpower yours due to his finesse and 6 eyes. But you could at the very least try.
Satoru, on the other hand, already knew of your potential. 'She is the only one I know who can actually touch and surpass me, given that she can control gravity and condense molecules. It will come down to timing and refining techniques.'
“Give me 5 minutes to suit up.” You asked. He agreed. You flew to your room and eyed the katana of your father. He actually planned to give it to Sora when she turns 16. But due to her death, he gave it to you instead on your 16th.
The name was Kintsugi, because it was made of two halves before being welded together in the centre with high grade steel. The center has a core of a fine diamond dust that’s infused with cursed energy. It’s a grade 1 special tool that multiplies the cursed energy you put into it by 10.
“Don’t break it. Don’t break it…. But It’s Satoru I’m going against. It will break.” And so you put it back and instead reached for your best twin blades and metallic whip. You coiled it around your wrist like a bangle, before flying back to Satoru.
“Done preparing, kitten?” He had removed his sunglasses and his blue eyes were out wide open as they assessed your cursed technique.
“Yep!” You yelled. “Ah Toru, shouldn’t we inform the elders or Utahime sensei that we-”
He didn’t give you time to speak as he appeared in front of you all of the sudden. Rushing with a right hook. You quickly dodged. He kept his word and is going easy on you at least.
You exchanged a few blows with him, both his limitless and your spacial barrier active so technically, no hits were landed.
Until you warped the space and forced the molecules around them to retract, making you actually reach and hit him.
He must have expected the solid punch, because in return, he kicked you as he warped off your spacial barrier. You eyed him as you regrouped. It’s anyone’s game huh.
“You’re still holding back! Are you going to be like this in a real battle? Are you okay with staying weak? Or do you have to wait for someone special to die before you ignite?!”
Oh no he didn’t. Your emotions raged, and you tried to calm them down. But all you saw was blood red. You never felt this angry at Satoru before. Before you knew it, you had activated inferno, making the entire surrounding area, which Satoru was in, combust and burn up in flames.
You lit up a match and pulled the flames on the ground and trees towards your smaller flame and held a massive ball of fire. Satoru was gone, it was only soot on the ground. You looked up to see him hurtling down at you.
You barely dodged, before wrapping the flames around you as you used it to strike at him repeatedly. You both rose up higher and higher into the air.
“Special art: Goldenrod,” you shot a bolt of lightning at Satoru only for him to dodge it. “Don’t just shoot it from your hands! Electricity is a current! You can make it run through your entire body!” He yelled as you both spiraled and fought over the campus.
He had the energy to teach you while you were fighting. You scoffed, but listened carefully, generating electricity in your hands before letting it wrap around you.
You were both dodging and striking at each other with such power. The trees swayed violently as winds and rubble were thrown about.
“What on earth…” Noritoshi and the other students stared at the flashes of fire, lightning, and wind above the campus.
The sky darkened. Good. If you had water, that was another asset.
He must have realized this as he immediately activated his Cursed Technique: Reversal. “Red.” You were forced back, plummeting to the ground. You swiftly turned and saw Miwa and Mai staring at you with horror.
You pulled yourself up back into the sky, still filled with fire and lightning, narrowly missing the building. You twisted your fingers to the side. The flames turned into the shape of the Dragon and you whipped back to hit Satoru from the front while your dragon of flame hit him from behind.
He danced around your attacks, teleporting from one area to the next to dodge them.
He then easily extinguished your flames with a flick of his wrist, but your lightning stayed. He can’t extinguish it, because it was coursing through your body, constantly moving.
You both stood, hundreds of feet high above the Kyoto Campus in midair. Lightning flashed above and winds howled.
You’ve never been pushed this hard your entire life. Not with Hiroki. Not with Todo. But Satoru was really on another level of strong. Unbreakable like a monster. He didn’t feel human anymore.
You tried for a Mach Speed hit, which you’ve never tried on anyone else; it would kill them on impact. “Mach 3.5” There was a loud BANG!
Going at Mach Speed has its limits of course. You can afford to do Mach 1, 5 times a day. Mach 2, 3 times, and Mach 4 only once.
A huge cone of smoke formed behind you as you launched yourself at Satoru. He was still able to evade you, but you pointed one hand to him, quickly following up on another attack.
“Fubuki.” Your blizzard technique was a combination of Niflheim and Tatsumaki. Cold air whipped around you and you thrust it towards Satoru. A mini tornado has formed around you and it pushed and pulled widely. But you were in the eye of the storm.
Satoru dodged your winds, but couldn’t escape them all, wincing as some small ice shards cut into his skin. He attracted debris and rocks towards you. One caught on your shoulder, making you yell in pain, but the rest you were able to guard against with your winds.
He immediately closed in on you to prevent you from doing another full blast and punched with ‘Red’. You countered with a roundhouse kick supercharged with your blizzard and lightning, neutralising his infinity jujutsu with a bit of mixed gravity control.
A huge gust of whirlwind was emitted from the impact, forcing everyone on campus down to the ground.
“GOJO! TSUCHIMIKADO! STOP THIS!” Utahime was screaming at the top of her lungs, still heard over the roar of thunderclap.
You both looked at each other and knew it had to end soon. Rain was starting to fall.
He threw his back and laughed out loud. “I hadn’t had this much fun in ages. You’ve grown really strong. Stop me if you can.” And flew away from the buildings and into the surrounding forest. You whipped your tornado around you and quickly followed him.
All the other students that had been watching you go at it followed. Utahime did as well. They stood from a distance as both of you exchanged more hits.
You lit another match and let arrows made of flames rain on Satoru, weakening his limitless barrier as much as you could. Only one arrow slightly singed his sleeve. Damn he was good.
Satoru attracted your body with “Cursed Technique Lapse: Blue.” You felt like your insides were tearing as you tried to stop his force. But his limitless technique easily overpowered yours. You let go and rushed towards him with both your swords out.
He easily sidestepped and kicked them out of your grasp. The hit was so heavy, even though it hit your swords, you felt the force reverberate throughout your body.
Satoru grabbed your neck from behind, and for the very first time since you were awarded the Special Grade Jujutsushi status, you were forced down onto the ground.
You used your cursed technique to soften the blow as much as possible, but Satoru was relentless as he slammed you head-first down onto the grass.
Everyone winced as you hit the ground hard. "He's not human." Mai said. Everyone agreed, not used to seeing you at the mercy of another party like this. They were reminded of who exactly was the strongest sorcerer alive.
In order to win against Satoru, your goal was to touch him and move past his limitless barrier. Even if it’s just for a moment. You couldn’t use Niflheim or Inferno from afar. He would remain unaffected as he guards and stops the change in movement of molecules around him.
But now his hand was around your neck. Your twin blades suddenly rush to close in around his neck in an x position to gather his attention, while you use your technique to warp the space around his hand to weaken limitless and hold onto him.
You lashed out with your metallic whip, letting your cursed technique run through it. It worked and scratched his cheek a bit.
"Enhanced gravity: Output 30%", the ground cracked underneath the both of you as a massive weight pressed down. And then you shocked both Satoru and yourself with the lightning coursing through you. Screaming at the pain in the process.
He gritted his teeth as volts shocked his bones.
Utahime and the others stared at both of you. "What a huge amount of cursed energy." Todo said in awe. "Non-standard Jujutsu users are insane."
Satoru still had the strength to hit your lower back which caused you to heave out and stop Goldenrod from activating. Both of your clothes were literally toasted. “Haha. You’re a scary one y/n.”
That’s all you remembered before you passed out; you were out of cursed energy.
◇◇◇
Noritoshi rushed over to take you in his arms. Pulling your unconscious body close to his, he gave you a once-over. You had just fainted from exhaustion, there were no serious injuries. Good.
"Noritoshi," Satoru called.
"Yes, Gojo San?"
"Take care of her for me please."
He straightened up, "Of course. There’s no need to ask that from me." He then carried you to the infirmary, holding you gently in his arms.
Blood Bound: Table of Contents
Author's Notes: Me writing this entire scene: FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT!!! (x100)
Y/n was able to fight on par with Satoru, because he chose to limit his cursed energy output and match his skills to her level. A psychokinesis cursed technique would be a natural enemy for limitless since you can condense and expand space between molecules. But you still lack experience in battle. And if we were going to talk about Domains, Satoru would dominate the battle.
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itsclydebitches · 3 years
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There seems to be no middle ground with RWBY+, they trust you or they don’t. Some have no chance to “earn” it, but others don’t do anything to gain it. James should’ve earned it a hundred times over. He did so much but it wasn’t enough. What did Robyn do? She tried to attack Ruby and was only stopped by Penny. After that? Yang trusts the woman who almost hurt her sister over the man who gave her an arm, then blamed Ruby. Any wonder I hate these characters so much?
The frustrating thing is that I think I can see what RT was going for. Frustrating because it's the reading most of the fandom falls back on, despite the fact that the show... never actually wrote that story. In short, it's the belief that there's established good and bad in this world and we have a responsibility to uphold the former regardless of personal trust. So if a friend of mine is, say, being a racist asshole and a stranger is not, I have a moral responsibility to side with the stranger, despite the fact that I don't know them, technically can't trust them on other matters, and have little to no emotional investment in them as an individual. You need to take the side of what's right, no matter how hard that is. It's why we get so many heroes facing off against former friends and mentors. "You'd really betray me for them?" they say, pointing to the sidekick our hero only met at the start of the story, maybe a couple months ago in-world. "Yeah," they reply. "Because they're not trying to kill everyone." Basic humanity trumps long-term relationships.
That, as far as I can tell, seems to be the basic setup that RWBY was going for: Robyn may be a stranger, but she's the Good Person sticking up for Mantle, whereas Ironwood may be an ally and friend, but he's also the Bad Person hurting Mantle. Ergo, aligning with Robyn wins out, no matter that she's a stranger and Ironwood an ally. That's likewise why fans are so quick to dismiss evidence of Ironwood's good nature. Things like Yang's arm or the licenses aren't accepted as evidence for why the group should have started with more trust in him, they're reframed as excuses for why critics supposedly want to overlook his presumed, horrific nature — something that the story later made real with him shooting Oscar, killing the councilman, hacking Penny, and threatening to bomb Mantle. Viewing the good Ironwood did as some manipulative temptation the group was right to resist depends entirely on seeing Ironwood as the archetypal bad guy to Robyn's good guy.
However, this attempt failed spectacularly for numerous reasons already discussed over the past two years. Ironwood's actions were never revealed as manipulations. The group continued to work with him, thereby shouldering responsibility for his choices. Ruby actively pushed to complete Amity, despite the harm it was doing to Mantle. Robyn never did anything with the resources she stole, etc. This presumed line between Ironwood and Robyn simply doesn't exist in the text — or at least it's incredibly blurred — so when Yang and Blake run to share intel with her, it doesn't feel like the heroes turning away from the wrong path to back the real hero. We don't understand how resources to build a communications tower are hurting everyday peoples' lives. We don't understand why Weiss can't just go up and plug the hole with a bunch of ice. We don't understand why, if hurting Mantle is such an objectively awful thing, our hero Ruby keeps pushing to finish Amity anyway. We don't understand why there isn't at least an acknowledgement of good intentions here, considering that the tower is meant to save the world from Salem, helping Mantle in the long run. We don't understand why, if the group is so concerned with Ironwood's choices, they don't tell him the one piece of information that would get him to stop. And we don't understand Robyn.
Because here's the thing: it's badly written. The whole Amity debate straight through to the Fall of Atlas is a mess of ill thought out morals, shoddy worldbuilding, and outright contradictions. There's no salvaging that without rethinking Volumes 6-8, starting with the group's response to Ozpin. But all that aside, even if we kept things exactly as they are and bought into the assumption that Ironwood is as Bad and Robyn is as Good as the story wants us to believe... the group still should have at least hesitated to trust Robyn. More than a line or two of dialogue between Yang and Blake. I mean actual hesitation and a serious acknowledgement of the complications here. The concept of trust is now a focal point of RWBY and there's enough material across the entire series to make the Robyn situation way more complicated than just the group going, "We should side with her because she wants to do right by the people." Here I'm not talking about what we the audience know about RWBY's construction as a story, I mean what the characters have experienced on screen. It's a simple question at the core of the trust Robyn debate:
How do they know she's telling the truth?
Seriously, how do they know Robyn is who she says she is? That she doesn't have ulterior motives? That she's not outright lying to them and the rest of Atlas? Everything I've heard in defense of the group's fast-track trust falls short. "Well, she's presented as one of the good guys in Atlas, fighting for what's right." You mean like how Cinder, Emerald, and Mercury once posed as huntsmen and joined Ruby's school, supposedly fighting for what was right? "She's interested in politics. It's not like she's out there attacking them like Tyrian." You mean like how Salem infiltrated a kingdom via Lionheart, the White Fang has likewise tried to worm their way into positions of power, and Jacques is currently trying to steal an election? The bad guys don't limit themselves to just trying to murder people straight out. "But she stole resources back for the people!" And did... what with them? For all we actually know, she put those towards a different, nefarious plan. "But she's so passionate and she's sworn she wants to help." People lie! That was the whole thing with Ozpin! Ruby just lied at the start of the Volume. And, funnily enough, Robyn has the semblance that forces others to tell the truth, but no one can make Robyn do the same.
To be clear, I don't actually have a conspiracy theory that she's secretly a baddie. My only point is that fans were right to wonder if she was a White Fang or Salem agent and our group absolutely should have wondered the same. Take away all the personal reasons to trust Ironwood (defending Weiss, Yang's arm, friend of the inner circle, etc.) and we're still left with proof of his intentions in the form of things like Amity's plans and him continually giving the heroes more power, more resources, more connections, more ways to hurt him if they were to ever turn against him. In as much as you can prove anyone is trustworthy, Ironwood was there. But Robyn? Robyn had none of that work. More importantly, that lack interferes with our "She's doing the right thing, so we need to back her" reading. How did the group know she really wanted to do right by the people? And since that's always hard to prove, what did they do to at least attempt to reassure themselves? Absolutely nothing. Which is why the current writing makes them look stupid. They watched the bad guys infiltrate their school, organize the Fall of Beacon, stalk them, pose as allies, turn on them, lie to their faces, are telling lies themselves... and none of them came up when the question of trusting Robyn was put on the table. The idea of someone tricking them (again), or betraying them (again), or lying about Important Topics even though they're doing the same seems to have, somehow, escaped them.
It doesn't matter what Robyn's stance on Mantle is because the group never justified trusting her word and the story failed to show us (and them) that Robyn was doing good. Literally all she does pre-trust is stand for election and, again, we could say the same of Jacques. If the story wanted to make at least a miniscule improvement on this arc, we needed to see either a compelling reason to believe Robyn is all she presents herself as (for example, Penny could have known and vouched for her), or gotten an explanation for why they'd take an unjustified leap of faith when others haven't gotten one, people who have done much to earn that trust. It's a problem that grew exponentially once Oscar trusted Hazel and the group trusted Emerald, but it has existed since Ilia. As it stands, by this logic, Cinder should be able to walk up to the group and go, "I'm not bad anymore. I actually want to help now. No, I'm not lying :)" and that's that. That's what trust means to them. Taking people at their word ...unless you're a flawed ally who has made mistakes. Then trust takes months to rebuild, or is off the table completely.
Ozpin is not trustworthy. Ironwood is not trustworthy. Qrow saying "Hey" is not trustworthy. According to the fandom, Tai is not trustworthy.
Ilia is trustworthy. Robyn is trustworthy. Emerald is trustworthy. Hazel is trustworthy.
It's completely backwards and Robyn was a large part of that strange flip.
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