#that's very sexy you're valid

[myheartisbro-ken]

I was gonna make a little 'how are we feeling gay people' joke after watching the finale, but I've seen some of y'all are being really bitter about it, and I do not want that negativity in my life. So if y'all cannot appreciate really cunty storytelling that actually makes sense when you pay attention to it outside of shipping goggles, I have nothing to tell you

[melancholic-fig]

What I loved about the Substance was that it took impossible body standards imposed on women seriously. It didn't treat me like a kid throwing a temper tantrum about not being sexy. It didn't try to tell me "everyone is beautiful" and "every body is a beach body" in a pitiable voice that makes it all worse. There's no one singing to me about how "I cannot see my own beauty", as if validation from men will ever be enough to cover the black hole in my stomach drilled by years of self-loathing, binging-purging cycles and appetite-suppression pills. It haven't stopped for a second to congratulate itself for platitudes.

The substance threw an ice bucket on my head, grabbed me by the shoulders, dragged me to the mirror and told me "look at what violence you're inflicting on yourself!". It showed me a perfect body, the carrot on the stick, and then it hit it with a sledgehammer in white neon light. Is it worth it? Aren't you mad? Look at how he eats shrimp and doesn't wash his hands - is this the person you want to be liked by? Is this what you deserve for being human, really?

I've seen this movie on Friday and it's been stuck in my head ever since. I haven't looked in the mirror the same again. Somehow this made me kinder to myself.

I've seen reviewers say that this movie counts as "male gaze" and "violence against women" but I think they don't see the forest from the trees here.

First the male gaze: it felt like a deconstruction, in the best way. Sue's butt was the least erotic thing ever put to screen. The soft porn dance studio was shot in a lifeless manner, I felt like my mom was reading the browse history. Personally, I'd never want to have Sue's job. Even the sexist dudes that watch the movie seem to "get it", that their overly sexual media diet looks embarassing under the microscope. The medium is the message, and the sound and visual cues are all there to make sex appeal look very unappealing and immature. There's nothing sexy in "Pump it up", it's catchy and fun and has sexual undertones, but not a hint of sensuality.

Then the violence against women: there is only one scene where a man attacks a woman, and I'll not spoil it, but i'll say it's so bizzare it feels too cartoony to count. The rest of the violence is all self-inflicted. Every step of the way. Women don't just suffer abuse under patriarchy from men, they self-inflict and reenforce the structures of their own suffering onto others. Elizabeth is a fitness coach actively making bank off of other women's fears, and in the process of telling everyone over x kg to skip lunch she's grown her own self-loathing too. It wasn't really the horny men watching the fitness show, isn't it? Sue is even worse, she goes on talk shows to tell women her looks come from being kind, a silly statement considering she injects herself daily with an old woman's spine liquid while loathing her for existing. Elizabeth and Sue are both victims and perpetuators of violence, and it's gruesome because it's not a silly feminine thing, it's all-encompassing and a matter of life and death. Without violence, what would be the message of the movie? "It kinda sucks to be a woman hating your body". Doesn't sting, isn't it? This is not chopping women and putting them in refrigerators to give the good guy a reason to kill the baddie, this has to be violent to show the depth of pain of the protagonist. It's necessary. And I like it, because crying and wallowing in pain is not the behaviour you want to see on screens, it feels lethargic and leads to the problem not being taken as seriously.

[yuujispinkhair]

I WANNA BE YOUR ENDGAME – Chapter 06

🏒❤️ A Hockey Romance feat. modern!Sukuna

Pairing: HockeyPlayer!Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: College AU, Hockey AU, fluff + smut Playlist: I wanna be your Endgame Word Count: 6.5k Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (male + female receiving), cigarettes. Fuckbuddies to lovers. Reader is a creative writing student. Sukuna is an ice hockey player + history student. This story will have approximately 12 chapters. Minors don't interact. Header by me. Divider @/benkeibear

MASTERLIST

Being fuckbuddies with Sukuna is surprisingly easy. As flustered as you sometimes get when you think about what the two of you do, all that shyness leaves you the moment you are in Sukuna's arms. The moment your clothes are off and you start touching each other, all shame is forgotten. Your sexy little arrangement opens a whole new world to you. You aren't very experienced when it comes to sex, but Sukuna is the perfect person to show you new things.

Of course, there are also people who don't see it that way. Nobara doesn't get tired of rolling her eyes at you anytime she sees you with your phone in hand, assuming you are texting Sukuna and making plans to see him.

"When I said you should maybe fuck him, I meant once! Not whatever it is, the two of you are doing now. You should be careful. Sukuna is a fuckboy. You are just another notch on his bedpost!"

"I told you, I don't want him to be my boyfriend! I am not interested in a relationship either. Sukuna is a fun pasttime. That's all. Maybe I want him to be just a notch on my bedpost, too!"

You know Nobara is just worried about you, and maybe her warnings are valid, but you refuse to listen to her. Your past experiences with relationships left you not wanting to ever fall in love again. What Sukuna offers you sounds safer. No feelings, just casual sex with the hottest guy you have ever met.

You're in Sukuna's bed, your gaze feasting on his gorgeous body. A body he works hard for in the gym every single day. Firm muscles and sexy tattoos. And you are allowed to touch this beautiful body as much as you like.

You trail kisses down Sukuna's broad chest, following his tattoos with your tongue, and his large hand tangles in your hair, rewarding you with his sexy low moans and whispered encouragements in his sexy, velvety voice. You slow down when you are insecure about your skills in the bedroom, but Sukuna is surprisingly patient with you. Sweet even.

There is no pressure, no shame. You start to suck his cock tentatively, smiling sheepishly at him, apologizing for being bad at blow jobs, and instead of getting mad at you, Sukuna cups your cheek and caresses it with his thumb while he grins at you,

"You're doing great, princess, and I can teach you the rest."

And suddenly, it's easy. Sukuna smirks at you and places a large hand on the back of your head, petting your hair while he guides you gently up and down his thick cock, telling you what to do, teaching you how to blow him right. Reassuring you that it feels good when you just French kiss his cock and use your hand for the part you cannot fit in your mouth.

Sukuna is a good teacher, making you feel like you are doing a good job because of the sexy praise his low, raspy voice whispers to you,

"Fuck yeah, just like that, princess. Just make out with my cock. You're doing so good. So sweet for me."

You moan around Sukuna's thick cockhead, feeling your own arousal coat the insides of your thighs, so turned on from what you are doing to Sukuna. It makes you suck even more devotedly on Sukuna's fat cock, licking the throbbing vein on the underside and suckling sweetly on his mushroom tip.

You feel him twitch in your mouth, and for a second, you worry if you will be able to swallow his cum without coughing, but then Sukuna's heavy-lidded maroon gaze meets yours, and a lazy smirk lifts his lips,

"I wanna cum on your face. Be a good girl for me, and just lick my tip until I bust all over your pretty face."

You moan and do as Sukuna says, kissing his tip and licking it, flicking your tongue against it in little kitten licks as if you are licking up milk from a bowl, all the while keeping eye contact with Sukuna. Shameless and naughty, feeling so turned on that you think you may cum too just from making Sukuna cum with your mouth.

And he does cum so beautifully for you. His tattooed thighs tense up, and his cock twitches as a low growl falls from Sukuna's lips. You moan when his swollen mushroom head shoots hot thick ropes of cum all over your face. And Sukuna licks his lips when he looks at you with that sexy, fucked-out expression on his beautiful tattooed face, his gaze following his cum that drips down your chin.

"You did so good. So sweet to me and my dick. Come here, princess."

Sukuna pulls you up into his arms, grinning as he cups your chin with one large hand and then his mouth opens, and he licks a stripe up your cheek, licking his own cum off your face, making your pussy clench around nothing.

You moan, your hands caressing Sukuna's broad chest, digging your nails into his buff pecs as he licks you clean. It is so obscene, so naughty, so fucking sexy. So different from everything you experienced before him. It's you who captures Sukuna's lips in a kiss, craving more, craving his taste. And Sukuna grins against your lips, pushing his tongue into your mouth, feeding you his cum, letting you lick it off his tongue.

It's a feverish, sloppy kiss, tasting like sex, and it makes your head spin and moan loudly against Sukuna's lips. You press needily against Sukuna's broad figure, trying to climb on him, throwing one leg over his waist, rubbing your wet needy clit against his abs.

He grins against your lips, pulling away only to wrap his hands around your waist and pull you closer to him, closer to his beautiful tattooed face. You gasp softly when you realize what Sukuna is about to do.

"Don't be shy, princess, just sit on my face. It's your turn now."

You moan breathlessly when Sukuna's strong hands pull you on his face, making your naked dripping-wet pussy brush against his warm mouth, sending sparks of desire through your whole body. You whimper, body shaking from the strain of keeping yourself upright, but Sukuna makes a disapproving noise,

"Come on, sit on me for real. I can take it, princess. Sit."

And he grabs your hips tightly, pulling you down, his lips instantly closing around your swollen clit and sucking on it, making a desperate horny cry tumble from your lips as the pleasure shoots through you.

Even if you still wanted to stay upright, you couldn't do it anymore. You are boneless in Sukuna's grip, lost in pleasure, letting Sukuna take care of you, letting him pamper your pussy with his soft, warm mouth.

You rest your whole weight on him, thighs spreading even further, shamelessly and needy, bucking your hips and rubbing your wet pussy eagerly against his hot lips and velvety tongue, crying out in pleasure when Sukuna's tongue pushes into you, fucking you slowly while his long fingers knead your ass and keep you in place right there on his beautiful tattooed face.

He eats you out until you are a trembling, sobbing mess, crying out anytime Sukuna's soft lips suckle on your clit or when he fucks you with those slow teasing flicks of his tongue.

You feel the pressure inside you build, the knot in your belly so close to snapping, and you tense up, trying to get away from Sukuna's mouth because the pleasure is too much, and you are scared of losing control. But Sukuna's strong hands hold you in place, pulling you back down.

"Just let go for me, princess. I came on your face. Now it's your turn. Make a mess on me."

Sukuna's lips close around your puffy clit again, and you mewl loudly. It's the combination of his words and the way his lips make out with your clit that sends you over the edge.

You cry out his name, your hips bucking wildly as you cum on Sukuna's face, hard and wild and very wet. Your juices drip from his lips even as he keeps eating you, making you cry and scream and bang your fists against the wall behind his bed right beneath the Tigers flag hanging there, while you cum and cum and cum until you feel dizzy.

You feel light-headed when you finally manage to get up from Sukuna's bed. It still feels surreal to see the resident hockey star walking around naked in his room, picking up your clothes from his bedroom floor and placing them on the bed for you. But it's not as awkward anymore. It's almost nice. Sukuna talks casually about the away game the Tigers will play this weekend, and you nod and make some agreeing noises from time to time while you get dressed next to him.

You leave Sukuna's room, making a joking comment about the chaos Yuuji once again left in the living area, and Sukuna asks you if you will meet for lunch tomorrow. You nod and grab your jacket from the back of the couch, about to say good night to Sukuna when the apartment door swings open, banging loudly into the wall, making you jump.

Yuuji and Todo march inside, loud and excited, swinging baseball bats in their strong arms, and Yuuji announces loudly,

"Yo we got the bats, Kuna! Megumi just wants us to bring them back before morning. Let's go!"

His eyes land on you standing next to his brother, and he smiles sheepishly, but his voice still holds the same excitement when he greets you. Todo bumps into Yuuji, making him stumble further into the room, and Todo's gaze wanders from you to Sukuna and back again, fixing you with a scrutinizing gaze as if he is trying to figure something out.

You smile a bit awkwardly at the two hockey players, but Yuuji has already proceeded with his agenda. He throws a baseball bat at Sukuna, who catches it with one hand, twirling it around his long tattooed fingers. A broad, devilish smirk spreads over his face, and you get a tingly feeling in your stomach.

"Good job. Let's teach them not to fuck with Curses."

You look at him in alarm. At the mad grin on his tattooed face and the baseball bat, he's slinging over his broad shoulder.

"Um, what is this about?"

Yuuji and Todo both start talking at the same time, but you can make out the words,

"Rival team." "Revenge" and "Tonight."

Your eyes widen, and you stare in dawning horror at the baseball bat that's now resting on Sukuna's shoulder. Sukuna catches your gaze, and he throws his head back, laughing loudly,

"Your face, princess! Don't worry, we aren't going to kill someone. We will just smash that stupid ice sculpture they have. They deserve it after the shit they pulled on us."

"B... but where is that sculpture, and aren't you going to get into trouble for smashing it?"

Sukuna raises an eyebrow at you, his smirk growing broader, clearly enjoying himself.

"It's in their arena, of course. We'll pick the lock, get in, and smash that ugly-ass bear. It's no big deal. It's just a revenge prank."

You stare at him incredulously,

"That's burglary and property damage!"

But Sukuna just grins even more, looking like the damn Cheshire Cat with that dirty, smug smirk on his beautiful face. His voice drops to a teasing drawl,

"Aww, are you worried about me getting into trouble? You're so cute, princess. But this is hockey code. We will just teach them a lesson."

He twirls the baseball bat elegantly around his long fingers as his gaze snaps to his linemates.

"Alright, Curses. Let's go. Let's fuck them up. I want to make those losers cry."

He looks far too happy about what they plan to do. As if it isn't a completely reckless and dumb idea! Your heart is beating up to your throat as you give Sukuna a stern look,

"This is fucking stupid! You can't do that!"

Sukuna cocks his head, raising an eyebrow,

"Well, watch me, princess."

He puts a large hand on your shoulder and steers you out the door even while you complain loudly. But he just smirks while you try to reason with him all the way down the staircase.

You exit the dorm, and Sukuna leads your little group to his car. Yuuji and Todo climb into the back, all excited chatter and broad grins, the baseball bats firmly in their large hands. And you huff and put your hands on your hips, stepping between Sukuna and the car, not caring how ridiculously you must look, so much shorter and smaller than the huge, strong hockey player with the bad boy look and the face tattoos. You tilt your head back to glare up at his tattooed face,

"Stop it, Sukuna. This is so fucking dumb! I don't understand why Fushiguro, of all people, would support something like that!"

Sukuna laughs softly, shaking his head and smirking at you,

"Good thing Fushiguro has a weakness for my brother. I bet it only took one smile and a whiny "Megumiiii" from Yuuji, and our baseball star handed him the key to the Wolves' equipment rack. But now tell me, why do you care so much, huh princess?"

His smirk is so smug that you feel like shaking him, but you just sigh and glare at him,

"Yeah, okay, I admit it! I don't want you to get into trouble! Are you happy now?"

The look that spreads over Sukuna's face is far too pleased. He steps closer to you, tall, muscular body towering over you while he grins at you,

"Very happy. But as I said, I won't get into trouble. Now get out of the way, princess, and let me take my revenge. They started it by cutting the shoelaces on our skates."

You roll your eyes,

"They cut your shoelaces? And now you go and break in and destroy their expensive ice sculpture mascot or whatever it is? Don't you think that's a bit much?"

"Well, I always avenge things threefold. How would they learn their place otherwise? Noone fucks with me or my team."

And with that said, Sukuna puts his hands on your waist and just lifts you up, and places you down a few steps away from his car, slipping past you before you can do anything. You complain loudly, but Sukuna is already lounging in the driver's seat with that boyish smirk, winking provocatively at you with a "Good night, princess."

You don't know what has gotten into you, but you react impulsively and jog around the car, yanking open the passenger door and plopping down on the passenger seat, and this time, it is Sukuna who can't do anything to prevent it.

His gaze snaps to you, and you grin victoriously at him, almost laughing at the thunderstruck expression on Sukuna's tattooed face.

"What are you doing, princess? Get out of my car."

You cross your arms in front of your chest, shaking your head, grinning smugly at him.

"Forget it. I am not getting out of this car. If you want to go to your little illegal prank, you have to take me with you!"

Sukuna looks at you for a long moment, and then his lips twitch as if he is trying hard to hold back laughter. Your tummy does a flip at the mischievous expression on Sukuna's face, slowly realizing that maybe what you did wasn't the smartest thing either. Maybe you shouldn't have picked a dance with the devil.

But it's too late. Sukuna smirks at you, the tip of his tongue playing with the pointy tip of one of his canines, a devilish, excited sparkle filling his maroon eyes,

"Okay, have it your way, brat."

And with that, Sukuna starts his car, flooring the gas pedal immediately, making you squeal loudly when you get pressed into your seat. Loud music blares from the car audio, and in the backseat, Yuuji and Todo chime a Tigers cheer, pumping each other up as if they are about to get on the ice, only contributing even more to the adrenaline-inducing atmosphere in the car.

You scramble to grab your seat belt and fasten it with sweaty fingers while you hear Sukuna's loud laughter. You wrap your hand around the grab handle, staring wide-eyed at the nightly street before you. Sukuna drives fast and recklessly, and to your horror, you see him take his hands off the steering wheel, steering with one knee so he can light a cigarette while driving.

"Sukuna!"

He smirks but puts a large hand lazily on the steering wheel, slowly drumming his fingers on it,

"Relax, princess. I am not going to crash my car and kill us all. I know what I am doing."

You roll your eyes at him when he turns his head to grin at you.

"You are such an idiot, Sukuna. I am going to kill you if this lands us in jail or in the ditch!"

But Sukuna just smirks even more broadly and brings his cigarette to his lips to take a deep drag and then blow the smoke in your face. But you have the feeling that the car isn't driving as fast anymore.

You sigh dramatically and hug yourself, snuggling into the car seat, watching the dark road ahead, refusing to look at Sukuna. Your lips twitch when you hear Yuuji and Todo sing along to the song playing on the stereo, one doing pretty well, the other hitting not a single note.

And after a while, your gaze strays again to the boy next to you.

Sukuna's long tattooed fingers, with the accurately applied black nail polish, tap the steering wheel in sync with the beat of the music. His other hand is resting on the open car window. Occasionally, he brings it to his lips to take a slow drag from his half-smoked cigarette. His lips move silently to the lyrics of the songs, his eyes trained on the road before him.

You have to admit that after the initial panic, you now feel pretty safe and relaxed here in Sukuna's car. He is actually a good driver, even though you will never tell him. And he looks very cool driving a car, so calm and confident, making your gaze stay glued to him. To his beautiful side profile with the angular jaw and the filigree tattoos, and those sultry lips wrapping so attractively around his cigarette.

You catch yourself almost enjoying the car drive, breathing in the cool night air and Sukuna's cigarette smoke, letting both calm you down.

But the relative calm is gone the moment Sukuna parks the car on the side of the road near the Bears' hockey arena. Your pulse is racing again, adrenaline filling your veins.

Sukuna turns to his linemates with a jerk of his chin.

"Okay, get your baseball bats and then smash that fucking thing!"

His maroon gaze lands on you,

"Slip into the driver's seat, princess."

You blink at him, caught off guard,

"What?"

"You'll be our getaway driver. The moment you see us coming back, you start the car."

He says it nonchalantly as if it is the most natural thing to demand.

"What the fuck, Sukuna?"

"You said you don't want us to get into trouble. So this is how you can help us avoid trouble. You will get our asses out of here, princess."

He flashes you one of his most charming grins and then exits the car, leaving you sitting there with your mouth opening and closing. But Sukuna points adamantly to the now vacant driver's seat.

You sigh exasperatedly, rolling your eyes, but you have to admit that Sukuna has a point. The last thing you want is to get caught because the boys take too long to start the car after returning from their stupid prank.

And so you take a deep breath and do as Sukuna says and climb into the driver's seat, squealing when you lose balance because Sukuna is so much taller than you, and his seat is practically in the back of the car, making you ask yourself how Yuuji even had space in the back. You curse and grab the steering wheel, pulling yourself and the seat further to the front so you can reach the gas pedal, while Sukuna watches you with a far too amused expression on his face.

You finally sit properly in the driver's seat, giving Sukuna a glare and a thumbs up, and he smirks at you,

"That's my lucky charm, helping me even on hockey duties outside the rink."

"Just go, and please try not to get caught!"

You watch the three hockey players jog toward their rivals' arena. All three of them are dressed completely in black with the hoods of their sweaters pulled up, their tall, broad figures blending with the darkness around them. They really look like a bunch of criminals with their baseball bats in their hands.

Fuck, how did I get myself into this?

You sigh and let your head fall back against the headrest of the car seat, breathing deeply in and out in an attempt to calm your nerves. The car smells like cigarette smoke and Sukuna's cologne, which is not really helping you calm down but instead makes your stomach flutter even more.

You nervously pick on your nails as you let your restless gaze wander through Sukuna's car. Black leather seats, which are worn but clean. An empty energy drink sits in the middle console next to a cigarette pack. Some protein bars peek out of the door pockets. Your gaze lands on the rearview mirror, and you spot a scented Hello Kitty head dangling from it. You stare at the cat's face for several long seconds, and suddenly, your lips twitch, and you giggle, pressing a hand over your mouth, unable to stop anymore.

Your nerves are on high alert the whole time while you wait in the car, your heart jumping to your throat anytime you hear the slightest noise while the occasional hysterical giggle escapes your mouth.

The minutes seem like hours as you nervously watch the darkness before you. And then you finally spot a movement in the darkness. You gasp and sit up straight, your hands gripping the steering wheel tightly as you squint your eyes.

Three tall, broad figures appear, running like madmen. You scramble to turn the key in the ignition, breath coming out in excited little huffs as the engine starts with a low hum right when the three boys reach the car.

They yank open the car doors, laughing and yelling. Yuuji and Todo pile into the back while Sukuna sprints around the car and lets himself fall onto the passenger seat, a wild grin on his tattooed face, eyes brimming with the same expression he has after scoring a goal,

"Drive, princess!"

He doesn't have to tell you twice. You press your foot down on the gas pedal, speeding down the road, eager to get away from the crime scene as fast as possible.

The music blares out of the speakers again, and the boys hoot with laughter and high-five each other, turning the car into some after-game celebration party, chaotic and loud, and your veins sing with adrenaline, making you drive even faster, and you can't help but feel a small grin tug at your lips.

You drive through the town, feeling like everyone must know that you have three players from the rival team in the car, and they just wrecked the local hockey team's ice sculpture.

You stop at a red light, heart pumping wildly in your chest, giving the woman in the car next to you a nervous little smile as she looks over at the black car with the loud music and the hockey boys, but your attention gets stolen by the pink-haired boy next to you.

Sukuna's large hand grabs your chin, making you turn your head to him, and he grins broadly at you, eyes sparkling with excitement and pride, and he leans closer, licking the side of your face, making you screech loudly. He laughs against your skin before he presses a loud smacking kiss on your cheek, which makes Yuuji and Todo in the back cheer and whistle loudly.

Sukuna pulls away again, laughing that sexy low laugh,

"Great job, partner in crime."

And finally, you can't hold back anymore and burst out laughing loudly, shaking your head and rolling your eyes,

"You are fucking crazy, Sukuna. All of you are crazy!"

And Sukuna smirks and cocks his head,

"But you like it."

The traffic light turns green at that moment, and you start driving again, finally feeling at ease. You can't help but grin broadly and turn the music up louder as you cruise through the town with a car full of hockey players. You have no idea when your hand ended up on Sukuna's thigh, but it stays there almost the whole drive back to campus.

Once you are back on your campus and have parked the car in front of Sukuna's dorm, the four of you get out of the car, and Yuuji and Todo give you high-fives and big grins. Todo nods appreciatively at you,

"You are a first-class getaway driver! I had my doubts about you when I saw you earlier, but my man Sukuna has shown me today that he has top-tier taste in women!"

You blink at Todo, not really knowing how to react, and end up just laughing and clapping his burly back before Yuuji grins at you and pulls you in a quick half-hug,

"That was amazing! Thank you for getting us away from there! Do you know that Sukuna usually never lets anyone drive his car? He punched me once when I took it to drive to the cinema."

"Yeah, because I know that you are a horrible driver."

Sukuna gives his twin a light smack on the back of his head, and you laugh, feeling bubbly from all the adrenaline still flowing through your veins. You can't stop the big smile from spreading over your face when you look at Sukuna. He watches you with his cat-like eyes, a lazy smirk on his tattooed face, looking far too pleased, but you can't be mad at him. Not when you feel so light-headed from your little adventure.

Yuuji and Todo bid their good nights, quickly leaving to return the baseball bats before someone notices they are missing. And you smile at Sukuna and tell him that you will walk back to your dorm now, too. Sukuna takes a step closer to you.

"I'll walk you home, princess. There are too many bad boys on the street at this time of night."

"You mean, like you?"

He just grins and falls in step beside you. You don't say it, but it tugs strangely at your heart that Sukuna refuses to let you walk alone at this hour of the night.

Sukuna lights a cigarette and then reaches out to put a strong arm around your shoulder and pull you against his side, making you smile and lean against him.

He teases you the whole way to your dorm about how worried you were and how your face had looked so stern and shocked when you tried to stop them from their plan. And you complain playfully about it, telling Sukuna that he and his linemates need a watchdog or some restraints to keep them out of trouble.

You finally stop in front of your dorm, and you pull away from Sukuna, letting his arm slowly glide down your shoulder. You instantly feel cold when Sukuna's warmth is gone, making you wrap your arms around yourself, but it isn't the same.

Sukuna grins at you while his cigarette dangles from the corner of his lips. And then he reaches out to put a large hand on your hair and ruffle it, maroon eyes sparkling teasingly in the light of the streetlamp, just waiting for the loud squeal of complaint he knows will come.

His large hand is still in your hair, but it cups the back of your head now, keeping you in place as Sukuna leans down. And then you feel his lips press a kiss to your forehead. A gesture that makes your eyelashes flutter because it's so uncharacteristically tender for a guy like Sukuna.

But the moment is over before you can really grasp it, and Sukuna pulls away, flashing you another boyish smirk before he turns around to walk back to his dorm. A tall, broad figure clad entirely in black with pastel pink hair and a little cloud of cigarette smoke billowing behind him.

And you stare after him with a wildly pounding heart, thinking that you haven't felt this alive in a long time.

It's Saturday evening, and you are bored, slowly sipping the drink in your hand while trying to pretend you are listening to the conversation going on in front of you. If things had gone your way, you would be in bed now, snuggled comfortably into Sukuna's soft, white hoodie, reading a book or watching a show. But Nobara was very adamant about going to this party in Maki's dorm.

"I am not walking in there on my own like some loser! You will come with me!"

And then she added, with a sneaky little grin,

"I heard that the hockey team will come too after they return from their away game."

You sighed and complained, but in the end, you played along and let Nobara drag you here.

But now you regret it. You aren't in a party mood tonight, and you don't know anyone except Nobara and Maki, who are busy making heart eyes at each other, making you feel like the third wheel.

A commotion at the door makes you turn your head, and you see several hockey players entering the apartment, getting high fives and claps on their backs for their win today. You can't help but crane your neck, waiting for pink hair and a smug smirk. But Sukuna is nowhere to be seen.

Your shoulders slump. You don't even know why you feel disappointed that he isn't here yet or maybe won't come at all. But somehow, the thought of having him here and being able to joke around with him had, for a second, been able to lift your mood. Maybe this boring party would have been enjoyable with Sukuna by your side.

You are about to leave for the kitchen to get another drink when your phone vibrates in your pocket. You pull it out, grinning when you see the text message.

Sukuna 🏒👑: Are you at the party, princess?

You: Yeah, I am here. Are you coming, too?

Sukuna 🏒👑: I'm already here.

You: I didn't see you. Where are you?

Sukuna 🏒👑: Come find me ;)

You chuckle softly to yourself as you lift your head to scan the room again. You excuse yourself from Nobara and Maki, deciding to wander around a bit and look for Sukuna.

Suddenly, the party doesn't seem so bad anymore. Your steps feel lighter, and you smile at the strangers you walk past. Your little tour through the apartment isn't successful, though. It's a mystery to you how a big guy like Sukuna is able to hide from you in this relatively small apartment. But then your gaze lands on the door that leads to the backyard.

Cold night air blows in your face as you stroll into the dimly lit backyard. And finally, you spot the pink hair you were looking for. Sukuna is leaning against a tree, a cigarette between his lips, smoking and looking bored.

You can't help but smile as you hurry over to him.

"Hey! What are you doing out here on your own?"

Sukuna huffs and rolls his pretty eyes,

"It's a boring ass party, plus I can't stand most people in there."

You raise an eyebrow at him, and his smirk grows bigger as he ruffles your hair and adds,

"With the exception of you, of course."

You laugh softly and shake his large hand off, smoothing down your hair as you look up at Sukuna's tattooed face and ask him,

"How was your game?"

"We won. Showed those fucking Bears what hockey is."

"Congrats! But how did they react to their smashed ice sculpture?"

You can't keep the slight worry out of your voice, but Sukuna laughs, eyes sparkling with amusement,

"They held a memorial event for it before the game started."

You chuckle, too.

"Do they know you guys did it?"

Sukuna shrugs, his smirk widening,

"I sure hope so. I would be insulted if they didn't."

He takes a deep drag from his cigarette, tilting back his head and slowly blowing the smoke out as he looks up at the night sky.

He looks beautiful, even though he has such an intimidating appearance with his face tattoos and his tall, broad figure.

Tonight, Sukuna isn't breaking into his rival team's hockey arena, but he still looks like someone who is up to no good with all his tattoos and his all-black clothes, a tight black t-shirt that shows off his firm pecs, and impressive biceps, and black cargo pants combined with combat boots. He looks like someone who would usually make you switch street sides if you saw him walking towards you at night.

But you know Sukuna now. You know that he is actually pretty nice if he wants to be. It's fun to be around him, and sometimes even peaceful, like tonight. Sukuna is definitely the only one you want to have by your side at this stupid party.

As if he heard your thoughts, Sukuna's gaze lazily wanders over your face, and he smirks softly.

"I'm not in the mood for that shitty party. Wanna leave?"

You answer him with a broad smile and a nod,

"Okay, let's go."

Sukuna flicks his half-smoked cigarette into the grass and jerks his head towards the fence behind him,

"We'll take that way, princess. Don't wanna run into my teammates."

And before you can point out that you are too unathletic and not tall enough to believe in your fence-climbing skills, Sukuna has already grabbed your hand and pulled you along.

Sukuna's hand is warm and strong and so much bigger than yours. Your pussy involuntarily clenches at the feel, making you silently curse yourself for having such a strong reaction to Sukuna's touch. But you don't have time to think about it because Sukuna's large hands are suddenly on your hips, lifting you off the ground as if you weigh nothing, just sending more flutters through your pussy and stomach.

He helps you climb over the fence and follows you a second later, climbing gracefully over it and landing safely on his feet on the other side as if it were nothing.

He jerks his chin in the direction of the main street.

"Let's get some coffee. I'm tired as fuck after the game."

You sit across from Sukuna, slowly stirring your coffee, snickering at the locker room gossip he shares with you. He shows you videos on his phone, barking with laughter when he presents to you The Bears reacting to their smashed ice sculpture.

You're the only guests in the small coffee shop on campus at this hour of the night. The lights are dimmed, and the barista has disappeared into the back of the shop. It's a peaceful, solemn atmosphere as if you and Sukuna have entered a parallel universe in which only the two of you exist.

And somehow, Sukuna seems different tonight, too. Softer. His playful smirk has softened into a genuine smile, and there's this unguarded, almost affectionate look in his eyes. Something you only caught glimpses of when he looks at his brother. But tonight, you get to see this look on Sukuna's face, too.

It makes you feel like you are invited to something special, where the Ice King lets his mask slip and allows a glance at the boy beneath the rough and arrogant attitude.

And suddenly, it hits you. Sukuna is your friend.

He allows you at his table in the dining hall and escapes from boring parties with you to sip coffee in the middle of the night. He lets you drive his car and allows you in his room and somehow decided he enjoys spending time with you, not just for sex, but for mundane things like having lunch together, or drinking coffee at midnight, or watching videos on his phone.

Sukuna let you in.

A smile spreads over your face, and you reach out to touch Sukuna's arm. Your touch is gentle, your fingers lightly tracing the tattoos on his wrist. Sukuna cocks his head, looking curiously at you, but he doesn't comment on it and just shows you the next video of his game against The Bears.

The two of you leave the coffeeshop together a while later, and Sukuna elbows you gently,

"Wanna come over to my place? I haven't gotten my victory fuck yet."

And you laugh and hit his tattooed biceps playfully, even as you agree with a soft nod and a big grin before you loop your arm around Sukuna's and lean onto him while you walk back to his dorm.

You spend the next thirty minutes under Sukuna, getting railed into his bed, your fingernails leaving scratches on his muscular back, while he pounds into you with those delicious, hard, deep thrusts.

He rolls off you afterward but doesn't get up, and neither do you. You just stay there lying next to each other, your shoulders touching, watching more videos on Sukuna's phone.

Until your phone beeps and you see a message from Nobara,

"Where are you?"

"Don't worry, I am okay. I left the party. Sorry, forgot to text you."

"It's okay, but you didn't answer the question? Where are you? Omg, wait, are you with the curse?"

You laugh, and Sukuna raises an eyebrow. You show him the text, and he huffs, a large tattooed hand darting out to quickly grab the phone out of your hand. Before you can even react, Sukuna has already typed a reply:

"She's in his bed, actually."

You scream and try to pluck your phone from Sukuna's large hand, wrestling with him for it on his bed until you end up in his lap, straddling him, both of you laughing breathlessly.

Sukuna grins up at you and lets the phone drop onto his pillow and instead grabs your hips with both hands, flipping you over on your back, making you squeal and giggle while his lips trail kisses down your neck, and your hands tangle in his soft, pink hair. He pushes your legs apart, lowering his tall, buff body on yours, his half-hard cock rubbing against your tummy, and your body instantly reacts to him too. Your legs wrap around Sukuna's hips, pulling him closer, your hips lifting, welcoming his hardening cock between your wet pussy lips, telling him wordlessly to take you a second time.

Yes, Sukuna is your friend. Your friend, who also gives you damn good dick.

PLEASE, THEY ARE SO SWEET 😭😭

I wanted to show the friendship aspect of the whole fuckbuddies thing in this chapter, and I hope you liked it! I am a sucker for friends to lovers, and I am screaming into my hand when I imagine Sukuna letting Reader in and letting her see behind his mask!!

I want to say thank you to all of you who read this story and leave sweet feedback in the comments and tags or send me nice asks! I realized once again this week that writing a multi-chapter fic is super stressful BUT also so beautiful because I can experience this whole process with all of you 💗 It's such a nice feeling that we are experiencing this story and the developing romance together. THANK YOU SO MUCH!! This is really what fandom is about for me.

I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Comments and reblogs would be very sweet.

If you commented on the masterpost, I will add you to the taglist, btw. I will reblog the story several times with the different taglists. Thank you so much for being invested in this fic 💗

In Chapter 7 Reader will get a private ice skating lesson with Hockey Player!Sukuna.

[bugs1nmybrain]

✨️ L Lawliet w/ a Shy & Insecure Reader Headcanons ✨️

Notes: I got real specific here. I need some validation haha. I swear if L ever complimented me I'd implode and then explode like I've done many times in the DS game (don't make fun of me >:<)

I'm adding pink text and sparkles to the title. Cope with it DN twt

Warnings: 18+!!! There is some sexy content, no gendered terms or pronouns. I tried being inclusive with the sexy stuff. Talks about poor self-esteem and insecurities. L being his rude ass self at one point. Reader described as quiet. I did indeed write L as a sweetheart, and I don't regret it one bit! :D. Not proofread

For starters, shy isn't a problem for L. He appreciates that you're quiet and relatively polite. It makes it easier for him to get away with dating you because he knows you're not going to be obnoxious around headquarters, and there's a good chance you'll never even mention that you're his partner

He finds it vry cute. Especially when you stumble over your words when he flirts with you. His pride is very comfy with you.

You are a perfect parallel play lover!!! He's grateful that you don't pester him when he's busy, but he doesn't mind you being around him. You can draw, do homework, write, play video games, anything. He just appreciates your company. He's also 100% paying attention out of his peripheral vision.

But because you're quiet, sometimes you don't share all of your thoughts with him and it can make for a satisfying relationship. L sure as shit isn't disclosing a lot of stuff, so he sees it as even

A lot of your secrets are insecurities, though. You worry a lot about your competency as a romantic partner. Whether it's your intelligence, physical beauty, personality, interests, anything really. You're always anxious that you're not enough, and not enough for him.

L knows well that you lack confidence. He's torn, actually, because he wants to see you become more sure of yourself and he'll try to help. He teaches you skills when he has time and makes sure to compliment you when you do something good. Sometimes he stretches the truth in his praises just to make you feel better. He knows you value his opinion a lot.

However, your insecure nature is an easy opening for him to get away with a lot. Nothing that serious, but secret tests are a given with L, and he does like to test if you'll push through him not given you the validation he knows you want. It actually does make him feel like 10% bad, though, and he'll make up for it.

He understands why you're insecure, but at the same time, he thinks it's silly. Especially when you admit to him that you're worried about your physical appearance or sexual abilities. It's in those moments he just wants to tell you to stop because "have you seen me, y/n?"

But yes please flatter his ego

When you started sleeping together it actually was pretty smooth and natural

I truly believe L was a virgin until you, so he probably wasn't much more confident than you

The doom of adult virginity/inexperience is that everyone expects you to be pornographic by now, and for an insecure person that can be very demanding

L doesn't expect that and won't be disappointed by something slow and "vanilla." He likes that, honestly. But of course, if/whenever you're ready for something more spicy, he's very open to communicating about it

This guy is just happy to touch you, period

If you fumble because you're nervous, he's not upset, but he'll redirect you with affirming words

He does admittedly get irritated by consistent nagging and the self-deprecating comments you make. It annoys him after a bit. He'll likely disengage to avoid hurting your feelings, but if you're persistent, he'll give it to you straight.

"The only thing you should be insecure about is that you're a broken record."

Fight the tears

It actually does make him upset when you doubt him and his love for you. It makes him feel like you don't trust him. L is aware that he's deceptive by nature, but he wants you to trust that he values you. He certainly wouldn't be in a committed relationship with you if his feelings weren't genuine

So he reminds you. Again. And again. That he wants you in his life and treasures you

You're lucky that he loves you so much

Sometimes, you'll go through periods of isolating from him because you're afraid of bothering him. Trust me. He's glad to have time to work, but he does pick up on your distance quick

You're so afraid of asking him for attention

or even just a bite of his cake. He always offers, tho.

But yea. L is a busy guy and comfortable in seclusion, so he isn't that clingy. He can go a long time without checking in on you, which doesn't help the paranoia

When he decides to take a break for once, usually his first instinct is to either 1. Get coffee or a treat, or 2. Make a bee line to see you!!

OR 3. BRING YOU FOOD TO SHARE

Know that he loves you much more than most things. You are his priority, even if his work takes precedence at times.

He'll attempt to build your trust over time because he understands how hard it is to believe in someone's honesty. It'll get better, and you'll likely start to feel more self-assured with him. L talks a lot, but he believes actions speak louder than words, so he'll show you how much he loves you through the little things because you light up his world after an exhausting day full of murder and nonstop thinking. You're home to him and he wants you to feel the same way about him.

[simpxxstan]

omg the “who in svt like tits” ate so now i need an ass version!!!

18+ nsfw MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

again i definitely think they all like ass a lot because they're just boys (smh smh). but i had fun writing this lmaooo my headcanons are total crack LOL also i'm glad you enjoyed the tits version ahaha you've validated my wild thoughts

seungcheol

so very enthusiastic. non-sexually, i think his favourite part of your body. loves it when you wear clothes that hug to your ass- will take you to the nearest bathroom or private place or even his goddamn car for a quickie because it arouses him to no extent. also LOVES spanking. outside sex, his spanks are gentle. but during sex, oh man. lord save you from him leaving marks all over your ass.

jeonghan

not overly enthusiastic about your butt during sex. but will tease you a lot with it all the time outside of sexy time. like when he casually spanks you in front of the other svt members. he will not leave a single chance to get his hands on your butt- if you bend down, he will slap it. if you hug him, he pulls you closer not using your hips but using your ass. and if you're wearing jeans, one of his hands will permanently be in your back pocket.

joshua

might go a little crazy every time he feels how soft your ass is in his large hands. will squeeze and squish while cuddling because he loves the soft flesh moulding in his hands. he won't spank you during sex, instead opting to bite hickeys into your butt cheeks.

jun

ohhhh he likes your ass too, but SO shy about it. reserved initially- only touching it when making out, or when he's cuddling you. but it gets more freaky with time. for example, now he will exclusively lie down on his back while making you lie down on your stomach, and will hug your ass like a body pillow. also a fan of leaving hickeys on your pretty ass cheeks.

soonyoung

addicted doesn't even cut it, and you know it too. so you tease him fully about it as well. like that time you stripped for him and gave him a lap dance, flaunting your butt for him (he came in his boxers). or that one time you wore a chain around your waist that let little shiny things dangle around your bare ass (he went feral after that). or pretty much every time he takes off your pants and sees you wearing a thong that's exposing your butt cheeks to him completely. will not leave the flesh unmarked that night.

wonwoo

thinks he's so discreet about it, but is actually SO OBSESSED with your ass. will touch it all the damn time. 100% the type to put his hand up your dress or skirt and get hard instantly as he feels the soft skin of your ass instead of protective shorts. loves fucking you in the car in reverse cowgirl- somehow the smaller space makes your ass more glorious in his eyes and he bounces you like crazy. he has polaroids of your lingerie-clad ass covered in hickeys that he sees on lonely nights when you're away from him.

woozi

loves loves loves your ass. will ask you to cockwarm him while he works in the studio (this is canon, i think, at this point) just so he can stretch his hands on your ass after they get tired from typing for a long time. his obsession with your ass becomes amply evident when he's working out with you. he's so shy because he's thinking a pervert- but one innuendo filled reply from you and he knows you want it too. so he doesn't stop himself and goes ahead and gropes your beautiful ass through your tights, as you squat for him.

dokyeom

oh boy. drools whenever he sees your ass. loves all your curves, but whenever you brush the swell of his curve against his body (unconsciously or not), he will get hard instantly, and hold you in place to rub against you like he's going feral. also a big fan of lap dances where you handcuff him and edge him as you dance for him and make his eyes roll back.

mingyu

this puppy is ALSO a fan of lap dances. but prefers when he can lay you over his lap and finger you and spank you at the same time. buys you panties that say cringe lines like "spank me daddy" only to cum in his pants before his hand can touch your butt cheeks. whenever you're making out, he will grab your ass and you both end up grinding against each other. he'll slip his hands under your skirt and grab your ass to help you grind against him faster, until you're both moaning and panting as you reach your highs.

minghao

doesn't get the hype about butts until he sees yours. even then, he's not too wild about it. he prefers facing you during sex, so any time you're facing away from him isn't a great time on his metrics. the only time he's good with it is when he's fucking you against a wall, your dress lifted up so that he can fuck into you without a fuss, a quickie when you're outside home. non-sexually, he loves to feel the softness of your butt, the way it moulds to his hands and how perfectly shaped it is.

seungkwan

UTTERLY, COMPLETELY OBSESSED. he will 100% compare sizes. but he's so smitted with your butt, he LOVES to touch it when you're cuddling (which is a lot). i think he's not too freaky in sex, but his mind is BLOWN when you sit on his face, and he grabs your ass as you ride him for hours. he will make out with your pussy as you lie on the bed, ass up, so that he can spread open your ass cheeks as he fucks his tongue into you. i also think he's definitely going to convince you to try anal at least once... and if you happen to like it, he's going to buy so many crystal plugs for you (which you're going to now use on him too LOL not that he minds).

vernon

quite pathetic how attached he is to your butt. does not understand when is time and when's not a good time to grope your butt (but he's started reading cues now). loves when you sit on his lap, even non-sexually. the plush feeling on your butt on his thighs, especially when you're wearing skirts or shorts, gets him feeling so warm and cuddly. in bed, he loves to fuck you in doggy style. there's just something about being able to finish on your ass that gets his spent dick hard again.

chan

another person who'll compare sizes. will ask you to dance with him, but when you do a provocative or remotely sexy step, say swirling your hips or twerking, he's fucked (will take you against the practice room mirror, eyes trained on your ass). another speciment of this- when you work out with him and you innocently ask him to help you get the correct posture during squat and downward dog, he will rub his dick into your butt cheeks to tell you he's getting horny as fuck.

[preciouslittle-bhaalbabe]

"I hate ascended Astarion but"

"look fuck Ascended Astarion but"

But what? You still find him attractive? You think your avatar getting on their knees for him is kinda sexy? You find the character compelling and interesting to analyse? You find aspects of his arc DEEPLY romantic? Oh but no you'd never do that to him. The man made of pixels.

You know what's so interesting about these people, the ones that ascend him just for the sex scene then reload their save. Or the ones who consume content involving A!A but always make remarks about "oh I could never do that myself BUT".

You do know you're completely allowed and valid in ascending him right?

I have two durges, one is for the sweet and wholesome redemption route for both them and Astarion. The other? Evil power hungry bastards who are obsessed with each other and want to watch the world burn. She's ascending him. Cirrus has no problem being a powerful vampires lapdog. When the character matches A!A's energy, it's a VERY fun dynamic. It's no different from the people who want to romance Minthara.

You taking some sort of moral high ground about a video game but then admitting you find the evil route attractive is...Interesting.

Remember, this is a role playing game. You don't have to make the "right" choices every time. Even that is subjective.

[impactrueno]

ok stop. stop. i'm gonna stop you right there because why in the world are you telling me this? where is this even coming from? what did you see on my blog that would make you come to me with this? i didn't ask ANYONE to justify their feelings about beetIebabes, positive or negative. you don't have to explain anything to me. i don't ship them, and i don't care whether other people ship them or not, or their reasoning why. my ask box is not an open letter column in a magazine, it's part of my blog. i'm a person. this isn't "beetlejuice fandom central" or anything like that.

i already said i do not want any shipping discourse of any kind brought into my blog. respect that.

just know that you're allowed to dislike things. you're good. no one is making you like the ship, i promise. i support you, you're perfectly valid and don't let anyone tell you otherwise. i'm very sorry that happened to your friend, but that's not a "proshipper" thing, that's a groomer thing, and groomers can be ANYWHERE. to see it as an exclusively "proshipper" thing is just going to put you in danger because kids have gotten groomed by shippers of "safe and wholesome" pairings as well. i've seen it happen and it's why i distanced myself from a previous fandom. so please, if YOU are a minor (or just young, adults can get groomed too) please stay on your guard no matter what circles you're in, and yes, even around "safe" shippers. i can't stress this enough.

let me tell you something before i shut this topic down.

this fandom i distanced myself from, i did it because i kept seeing adults pressuring minors to draw certain things. some 16yo kid drew suggestive art of a character under the pretense of a shitpost, and people went crazy over it and demanding more. and kids are always going to give into peer pressure, so of course they continued doing it and escalating the tone of the "shitpost" drawings.

this wasn't a "proship" space, quite the contrary, these were all very "anti" types as you may call it (once again i loathe these terms and shipping discourse is a fucking circus i don't want to involve myself with) the types that enforce safe, appropriate and unproblematic shipping and content. but here they were, hooting and hollering and with a terrifying lack of self-awareness and pressuring the kid to draw more suggestive art. IN PUBLIC. ON TWITTER. everyone thought it was hilarious but i was standing there like "wow! i want to get the fuck out of here" and i tried to remind everyone to NOT give in to peer pressure to do anything you're not comfortable with, but no one was listening because "sexy art of a popular character"

you can be manipulated and peer pressured to do things you're uncomfortable with at any age. especially if you're kind of a people pleaser like i was. people got nsfw art out of me that i didn't want to draw when i was 20. i got used and manipulated by someone who shipped "the correct things" to ship.

you won't realize you're being groomed until it's too late. that's why i insist for kids to stay safe and make wise choices, keep an eye out EVEN IN "SAFE SPACES" and i repeat do NOT let ANYONE pressure you into doing something you're not 100% comfortable with (and even if you are, think it over)

once more: stay safe, guys. no matter who you think your friends are. groomers can use anything to groom you, not just "problematic" ships.

that's all i'm gonna say. don't talk to me about shipping discourse again, please. won't be posting asks about this if i can help it.

[antidictaphobium]

maybe this is a hot take but i actually think fat people who are "responsible" for their own fatness are literally fine. like there is no argument i can make that proves it is worth ostracizing someone for their fatness, let alone challenging someone's bodily autonomy over it. what's it gonna do, prove to the young and impressionable that it's actually possible to be fat and happy?

for one, it's been proven that fatness usually has more to do with hormones and biological predisposition than someone's everyday habits, and most weight loss diet and excercise routines are not only very unhealthy but also don't last in the slightest. and even if that weren't true, why does it matter so much? why does someone have to have a "good reason" for being fat? why must we prove we're one of the good ones? why must we prove we're trying to be something other than fat to be valid?

to all the fat emotional eaters, fat people who are fat because they love food, fat people who gained weight on purpose or on accident, fat people who don't like traditional excercise or cannot access it, fat people whose doctors tell them all their problems stem from their fatness, fat people who have been fat their entire lives and fat people who just became fat recently, to all the fat people who are fat due to illness or personal habits or for no apparent reason at all, you are lovely. your fatness is not shameful. you can be beautiful and cute and sexy and confident and loved without proving you deserve to exist. you deserve to exist as is.

fat is not a dirty word. my fatness is not dirty, and neither is yours. you don't stop being loveable if you're the reason you're fat.

[ouchmyheart22]

Buggy Headcanons (OPLA! Buggy the Clown)

SFW

SO insecure. Like he craves reassurance and validation like 100%. Why do you think he stresses over his show so much ? He needs everything to be perfect, so everyone thinks HE’S perfect and shower him in praise and compliments.

Perfectionist, especially when it comes to the show - like has things planned exactly as he wants in his head and will not settle for any less than that. Someone isn't on their mark and he's having a bad day? Walk the plank. Spotlight is off centre? Plank. Someone forgot to wash his favourite white gloves? Better hope you're a good swimmer cause that's right, off the plank you go.

Meticulous with his makeup and hair - and yes it's meant to look like that honey. You just don't understand his style.

Bisexual king 👑 (Shanks x Buggy 4ever)

Definitely got (stole) that fur coat from a hooker.

Touch starved and NOT proud of it. Oh you touched his arm gently? You hand him something and your fingers touch? You help him back to the captains quarters after a wild night? Buggy will spend the next three days imagining your wedding and children's names.

Such a flirt, like he loves to make people blush (or grimace). He wants to make people uncomfortable. It's just that though, flirting, very little leads from Buggy's innuendos and teasing. If someone does decide to take him up on the offer, he is a little shocked, but never shows it.

Bad cook, like oh my god can this man even toast bread?

Genuinely loves his crew - he calls them freaks with such admiration and respect. He's been called a freak for so long he thinks the term should be worn with a badge of honour.

NSFW

Definitely an ass man (Yet again, bisexual king)

Perv. 1000% a perv. Such a peeping Tom, gets off on the idea that you don't know you're being watched. Will watch you shower, get changed, touch yourself. If you’re not together, he will not intervene (insecurities) but he will cum into his hand at the thought of what he could’ve done to you.

Would definitely detach his ear so he could listen to you. Your soft breathing as you dream? Heavenly. Your quiet moans as you coax yourself to the edge? Sinful.

Will tip you off on his eyes and ears everywhere, hell he’ll probably tell you that sounded like you were having a hard time getting to sleep last night (wink wink). But he never expects anything to come of it.

More of a receiver than a giver (he's insecure okay!) - LOVES to get his cock sucked.

High praise - he understands what it feels like to be insecure, so if you're doing a good job he will tell you! 'good girl, taking me so well' 'You look so pretty on your knees'.

SUCH A SIMP - body worship KING, he will tell you how pretty, sexy, gorgeous, beautiful etc. till the cows come home (or until you do)

Definitely a switch. He loves being in control, it makes him feel powerful and confident yet I think he's such a simp he would give that power up no problem for the right person.

He loves to be called captain - no, he NEEDS to be called captain

Hello my lovelies!! Thank you for reading <3

Please send any asks or requests :)

[beautifulhigh]

It just occurred to me that the polo scene doesn't get much love as it should. I know it's very short but just the thirst in Alex’s eyes, the way you can see his mouth dry while watching Henry ride that horse and his oh so sexy smile. I feel like that scene required a major dissection, and no one does it better so I came calling.

You know what? I'm doing this one now. I know I said I would do a meta on Henry Fox and I would do a meta on the New Year's Eve party but this is in my inbox now and yeah, let's talk about the polo scene.

(I'm also doing this now so I don't have another thing on my To Do pile, and your kind words made my shitty day a little better so thank you.)

Short scene, not a short meta.

In the book when he and Henry are in his bedroom, Alex has this little moment of clouds parting, sun beaming, angels chorus revelation:

In an instant of sudden, vivid clarity, he can’t believe he ever thought he was straight.

And while movie!Alex doesn't have the same bi awakening that book!Alex does. this is very much his moment of "oh I am very not straight at all" and that is valid of him.

(As this is a Jen meta, we shall also be talking about everything else because you do not analyse a text in isolation.)

This interview talks about the editing of the polo match:

Nick [Moore], my new editor coming in, took a look and he says, “I wanna try something with that polo match.” He spent a weekend of his own time doing something, and then he was ready to show me. He sat me down and said, “I’ve done something crazy.”

And we went from filmed scripted scenes and a lead in, to "bagpipes intensify" and it works SO well for where these boys are in this new stage of their relationship.

Our establishing shots are of the teams, the horses, the uniforms. This is Henry's world and Alex is about to step into it (which is a reversal of Henry at the NYE party - I swear I will write that meta once I have all the gif posts I want to link to) and it's all quick cuts and sharp transitions and moving shots. The pace has been set for Alex to enter.

We pick him out in the crowd but he's lost as quickly as we spot him. He's one of many here and it's all too quick to stay with him.

Firstly, you will never convince me that he didn't pick the tightest trousers he could find. Henry's comment about him being a mouthful is foreshadowed, right there.

ANYWAY

He walks in, he's looking around, he's doing up his jacket as a form of protection. Alex is the proverbial fish out of the proverbial water (and I have a meta about water if you're interested) and we're straight back in with the quick edits. Horses, polo sticks, this is not a game most people know how to play. Alex certainly doesn't. He's doing up his jacket and he is uncomfortable.

He is not a stranger to a suit, and that is certainly not something that is ill fitting. It is circumstance, not clothing.

And then we get our first clear shot of Henry. Only it's not clear, not at first. He literally comes into focus.

Stick aloft, mouth open, like he's a walking riding metaphor.

And Alex's face changes.

Yeah. He is definitely not straight.

From then on we stay with Henry. We, in Alex's viewpoint, have found him. And so we track Henry through the game and it's just generic horse legs if we're looking at anything else. The only player we/Alex see is Henry.

Here, Henry is leading. Going in first, checking it's clear, knowing Alex will follow him. Henry leads, Alex follows. Into the garden, into the bed, into the sexual component of their relationship. Alex admits to Henry right from the start that this is new to him:

“I’ve, uh,” Alex begins. “I’ve never actually done this before.” “Alex,” Henry says, reaching down to stroke at Alex’s hair, “you don’t have to, I’m—” “No, I want to,” Alex says, tugging at Henry’s waistband. “I just need you to tell me if it’s awful.” Henry is speechless again, looking as if he can’t believe his fucking luck. “Okay. Of course.”

When it comes to being with a man? Henry leads, Alex follows.

And then the pacing and editing kicks off. We intercut to the tempo of the bagpipes between the match and the hook up and Henry is leading the charge on both.

He's in charge and Alex is LOVING it:

Turns out being on the receiving end of Henry’s royal authority is an extreme fucking turn-on.

This is risky and the most dangerous thing they have done so far. Amy walking in on them in the Red Room is one thing - book!Alex is VERY thankful for the staff NDAs when it comes to what they know about him and Henry - but neither of them care here. And Alex is very much letting Henry take the lead and set the pace.

Which, given how long Henry has wanted Alex, wanted this, and how he's not able to live and love (at this point) as openly as Alex is, giving Henry this control means that not only can Alex continue his education in this mlm era of his life, but he's giving Henry all of the freedom he can. God Bless America or something.

We intercut the make out scene with shots of things being hit, the hard slamming of one thing against another, of riders in saddles. The hands may be a metaphor for sex in the Paris scene but we have it here as well.

Alex is fully on board by this point and he's not letting Henry set the full agenda. In his White House bedroom we got the scene of Henry going down on Alex (and there is no way that it was a one-way exchange given how long they were there) so now? It's his turn.

My favourite editing choice?

We then cut to Henry's arse bouncing in that saddle. If the Paris scene is making love? This is them fucking. Henry is bouncing away, riding for all he's worth, chasing down his singular aim with precision and determination.

It's innuendo at its finest.

I love this shot. We're looking up at them - we're just like Alex who is now looking up at Henry due to his new vantage point (#NoLongerTaller) - and we see Alex is fully crowding up into Henry's space. And they are right by the door. There is no cover, no escape. Anyone coming in has fully caught them. Please let there be a PPO or a Secret Service be just outside. Please. For their sanity if not mine.

But even if there isn't for some insane reason, they don't care. They are so lost in each other, so caught up in this moment, that they aren't FSOTUS and the Prince Of Wales. They aren't boys with status and expectations. They're just two consenting adults who are testing the boundaries of what public indecency actually means.

They are really going for it now. Henry's arm is tensed with the effort of keeping Alex close, his hand is splayed on Henry's back to give him contact with more of him. They are not letting go. Diving all in like it's a nod to the Olympic event where they met in the book.

And when they come up for air it's because Alex is... well... about to go diving.

Those fingers make VERY quick work of the belt and what he is doing with his hands and those fingers is further evidence in the "this is them fucking" category.

And then the frame which I'm guessing inspired Cordelia's ask to me:

LOOK AT THAT FACE. Look at those fucking eyelashes. But Alex is wanting and he is wanting hard for Henry. Pun intended. He's got a plan for this, he's got a To Do list for those Very Bad Things he promised/threatened Henry with all those weeks ago.

And it will have been weeks. The State Dinner was around February time based on the texts (end of January at the latest) and then Henry says the polo match is "next month" (which would put it end of February, early March because we would not say 'next month' if it were next week, regardless of when the month starts) and so it's been weeks since they hooked up in Alex's room. Weeks of having to just text and email and maybe venture into video calls.

None of that would compare to being together.

This is the first time that Alex has gotten his hands on Henry since his bedroom and he's desperate to get more than his hands on him.

And this shot as Alex pulls Henry's trousers down is fucking pornographic. Matthew López, did you direct Nick to act like this or was it his choice? Go watch his expression as Alex is pulling the offending clothing out of the way and tell me that this isn't pornographic.

And then we cut to the not-at-all subtle shot of Henry well, making the shot. With ease and power and the ball shooting out of frame. Something something orgasm metaphor something release.

There's even a little wisp as he makes the shot. If this post isn't flagged for mature content I'll be surprised.

Next shot?

Congrats on not getting caught, on the sex, on the most smut-filled-while-almost-fully-clothed-sex scene I've ever had the joy of frame-by-framing through.

Alex is doing up his tie again but he's not uncomfortable. And Henry is so fucking happy I could cry. Because he just hooked up with this guy, in semi-public, and got away with it. They are firmly in Henry's world here, a world where he can't be out and proud, and he got to have something he wanted. And, maybe crucially, no one knows about it. His privacy is intact.

But more importantly, this thing he's got with Alex is something. It's not a one night stand. Alex came here specifically for him, because he asked him to. Because Alex wanted to see him, be with him. This wasn't an obligation, this wasn't something set up by anyone for show and to do damage control. This was for them, and them alone.

Look at these smug bastards. Look at them. Gettin' their rocks off and making puns about being hungry and eating like they didn't just devour each other.

BUT

I gotta bring the feels here 'cause it's me.

Henry attended the State dinner because he was expected to, because that was in place before the New Year's kiss. It was an obligation and in both the movie and the book he had been ghosting Alex. And then Alex grabbed him in the Red Room and they hooked up and at the end of that scene Henry nervously asks Alex if he wants to be his guest at the polo event. Alex doesn't actually say yes - he says he doesn't know how to play polo, there's a comment about it being safer if he's on the sidelines - but leaving aside any fear that he would stand Henry up this is the first time they have made plans with the intention of seeing each other, of being together in this way.

This is, for want of a better term, kinda like a date.

Alex turned up, Henry put out, and they're very much committing to seeing where this path will take them. (Forever. It'll take them to forever.)

Alex isn't straight, Henry is very much in love, and they're embracing that giddy phase of a relationship where you just can't keep your hands off each other. And we fade from this to Paris where they're on another kind of date and then there's another kind of sex scene and it's a speedrun of their relationship on screen like they weren't indulging in foreplay with all the text flirting.

Which, by the way, don't think I didn't notice that Henry's jersey number was 4. Four-play indeed.

(Thanks for this, Cordelia, I needed something like this to soothe my brain.)

[frownyalfred]

one of clarks creepy activities before they got together was listening to bruce jerk it or have sex..

you're so valid for saying this (and right). I mean, he's a healthy adult male with the ability to spy on anyone anywhere. and Bruce is his very, very sexy restrained best friend who probably really makes it count when he finally does jerk off every blue moon so...yeah. I would stop and drop everything to watch/listen too.

[caffeinatedmunchkin]

An Iron Hand in a Velvet Glove

Emmrich Volkarin x Fem!Rook ✦ Rating: M (MDNI!) ✦ 13k words

"Their corpse proved quite stubborn." He presented her an opportunity, and she grasped at it in desperation. "I'm surprised, you're so very good at taming stubborn." Her playful attempt at schmoozing won a stiff snort, and nothing more. "Oh..." Breathed with a coy lilt, she feigned innocence that could have been believable, if she were anyone else. "Are you still cross with me?" Stealing another gulp, he sneered against it's bite. The strength of which smoked his voice to a heady resonant. "Back during your apprenticeship, when you disobeyed one of your superiors, or spoke back at them out of turn; in what manner did they see fit to punish you?" A preemptive attack from which she was slow to recover. "I... got a good tongue lashing." Her words were tight from a throat that fought against their release. "A common occurrence, I might add." "Just as I suspected." After a breath, he then angled a brow down into his drink. "The correction of your behavior falls into my lap after all."

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Crossposted to AO3!

I just want to take this opportunity to once again acknowledge and thank you for all the wonderful feedback I received on my first Emmrich piece. All of your praise, engagement, compliments, freak-outs - you name it - have been the single most gratifying, uplifting, validating and humbling experience I have EVER received in all my years of sharing what I’ve written. From the bottom of my little perfectionist heart, you are all in my cool book.

With that said, may I humbly offer this to all you incredibly sexy, gorgeous Emmrich babes to which I’m forever indebted. This one’s for you. 

This is hands down the most stressed I’ve ever been to post something LOL

Writing this was a wild oscillation of; “I’m on to something here” and “this is straight trash”. So I either really popped off with this fic, OR, I lost my mind and it’s documented here for all to witness. Regardless, I REALLY hope you all enjoy!  *blows kiss for all you lovelies* and to my one super sweet anon, this ones especially for you 😩 you kept the imposter syndrome caged so I could finish this. 

Dusk settled over Treviso like a veil. The gradient of a setting sun against the encroach of twilight a dreamlike glow, it stretched across the skyline in a rosy, gossamer haze.

Despite the festering boils of blight, and roving Antaam units, the city was still almost serene. Crickets chirped and nightingales squawked. Music drifted from the odd window, cracked open to invite the warmth of the breeze. A strong city; one too proud to kneel. Too enamored with its culture to bend to the devastation.

Emmrich and Ariadne were dutifully at each others side, while Neve trailed behind to afford them privacy at what she thought was an adequate distance.

The three were on their way to report back to Teia and Viago; their beloved city, and her people, no longer unwitting victims of the Qamakmaster, or his modified poison. The younger Watcher insisted they traverse the more "scenic route" along the canal proper.

In this it's most desperate hour, much of it's familiarity withstood the test of its carnage; sprawls of ivy wove through panels of lattice work. Pockets of lamplight dotted the pathways, their warm flicker reflecting off the lazy churning of the waters they strode beside.

The younger mage coiled herself around his arm like a vine. Content to take in the sights alongside him in shared silence, their physical contact was non-negotiable. She didn't care much for discretion when it came to their burgeoning affair. There were high stakes and grave consequences greeting her at every turn, every decision consigned to her.

She possessed neither the patience nor energy to pander to self-control. Least of all during these scarce luxuries of calm; the lulls between urgency.

She needed Emmrich's closeness. His touch.

Though the elder mage was more reserved in his displays, he bore her attachment with pride.

Still not quite used to the notion that his affections were requited, he couldn't deny the swell of his heart with how candid she was with her own.

How could he protest, when such a pretty thing wanted to be seen cozied up to him? Hanging off his arm like he was some young, and virile stud?

No, Emmrich could deny her nothing. He was weak to her. And by the ingratiating little simpers she'd aim his way, he swore she could smell it.

At times it still caught him off guard, her wild attraction to him, her insistent fawning. The elven necromancer lunged at him like a little lioness in heat, regardless of when or where - or who might be unfortunate enough to happen upon them in the midst.

But it wasn't a habit he felt compelled to curve.

The others seemed largely unphased. Bellara thought their relationship held devastating romance, no doubt drawing on bits and pieces for inspiration to her new craft. Neve adored Ariadne, and Araidne her - the two kindred street rats. He surmised her blessing had more to do with seeing such a close friend so happy, than the bearing of her personal approval of him.

Lucanis was content to get in his subtle teases and knowing smirks whenever he was the first to breakfast in the early mornings. Slinking off with servings for two, looking more than a hint disheveled and stupefied. Taash pretended not to pay attention, though he sometimes caught them initiating a covert high-five when crossing paths with Ariadne.

That left Davrin and Harding as the outliers.

Nothing malicious, Harding would sometimes make remarks that at times seemed innocent, while others were more coy. They all made him squeamish, which he maintained his best to keep polite about.

Davrin's approach was more blunt, albeit good-natured. Chuckling at his own crude jokes; those to the effect of the poor young Watcher abandoned by her parents, and her subsequent daddy issues. And how 'good old Emmrich sidled up to scratch that itch.' All in good fun, they turned his complexion ashen, and rang in his ears all the same.

However none was a harsher spectator than himself.

He'd lay awake deep into the night, with her pert figure sprawled naked atop him. Her shorter limbs curled around his like another one of his jewels, while she slumbered.

His racing mind tormenting him, even in the safety of his post-coitus haze, by the disparity of their years. Or by the stomach-turning truth of their first meeting, one he kept close to the chest.

That this little body that writhed under him in worship to his prowess, that rode him to mutual release while screaming his praises, was the same one that fit in the palm of his hand those twenty odd years ago. An incongruity he could draw because he had done just that. Only once, but the memory was sharp. Punishing.

Every time he reminded himself of that fact, he felt even more ill than when Harding had, rather abruptly and in full company, asked if he was old enough to be Ariadne's father.

It would have made him a very young father to have sired a woman of her age, but that didn't exempt him from that candidacy, he'd have to concede.

Is what he said at first, and a touch too defensive.

Until he did the math, and the realization dawned that it was not only reasonable for a man of 27 to have a babe - the age that he was when he met her, a fresh infant - but that most 27 year old Neverran men did. Some even had several by then.

He hadn't smoked in quite some time, but after that self-confrontation his clammy fingers itched to feel the length of a cigarette dangle between them.

"A pity." He volunteered with a sigh, willing his tortured psyche to rest. The craving for that detestable vice he worked so hard to best now rearing once more. "to see such a place ravaged by the blight. Though I would be remiss not to commend the perseverance of it's romance, despite all it's had to endure. I can only imagine how magnificent the blooms here might have been before."

"I thought you might think so." She drew herself tighter into him, both arms winding around the one she leaned into. To his measured chuckle, she melted.

"Dear girl, do you mean to tell me my accompaniment was requested just so you could hear me wax poetic?" His smile soft and amused. "Do you find me so predictable?"

She gazed up at him from beneath the thick flutter of her lashes. "I had hoped the atmosphere might inspire some of that famed spontaneity from the trysts of your past you've seen fit to regale me."

His gait faltering, he peered down the bridge of his nose at her, gawping at the confession.

He was becoming more adept at swift recoveries from her flirtation. She was almost disappointed in how quick he rebounded from this attack.

"You little jezebel." His reprimand was steeped in such a deep sultriness it burned the tips of her ears, murmured low to keep his words between them. But not low enough. Neve shook her head with a wry grin.

"Why don't I catch back up with you two at The Diamond." Her gaze flicked over them with an impish gleam. "I think you know your way back from here."

Emmrich had forgotten himself, and Neve, swept up in the generous evocations from his little blonde temptress. A profuse apology - and a begged pardon - at the ready, Ariadne cut in on behalf of his mortification.

"Are you sure?" Her eagerness to having him all to herself betrayed by the smirk she fought and lost.

"If I know one thing well, it's to leave the party when I'm having the most fun." Neve waved her hand as she sauntered on ahead. Without looking back, she called to them from over her shoulder with a smile in her voice. "Behave yourselves."

The pair of Watchers paused in a testament of their resolve. Their combined focus trained to the ice mage, as she moved further along the cobblestone walk and rounded the corner of a building, disappearing from sight. Leaving them alone.

Ariadne was the first to strike; hard and fast. Winning a startled grunt from him to the sudden impact of her body colliding with his.

Her arms snaked around his neck, she pulled him down to bridge the gap in their heights. A necessity in capturing his lips, even as she perched on the tops of her toes. Latching her mouth to his, she kissed him deeply, and with hunger.

One might have suspected a long-awaited reunion between the two, if her fierceness was anything to go by. And the loud, exaggerated approval she moaned, as his fingers began their own storm of her figure.

A new fragrance decorated her pulse, one he knew she selected with him in mind. A suggestive mingling of praline and black peony, it pervaded his senses to disarmament. When he breathed, he could smell only her. When he swallowed, he could taste only her.

In one swift motion - careful not the break their frenzied necking - he hoisted her up in his arms, while her legs curled around his waist. Her ankles locked at the small of his back, the little necromancer wrapped herself around him as if she wanted to permeate his flesh. Unable to get close enough.

He walked her the few steps to the banister overlooking the canal below. Placing her atop the railing, his hands were freed to explore. His wide palms roamed her, their paths indicated by the soft jingle of his bracelets, as one settled against the small of her back, while the other trailed up to her neck.

Though he handled her as if she were as fragile as a pressed flower, the placement of his hands were overwhelming with how deliberate. He cradled her with possession.

Her thighs parted to allow his stance between them, tugging his lean torso closer to press up against. Lulling her head back to grant his tongue deeper access down her throat, one hand fisted in the cloth of his robes, while the other made a brazen cop of his length.

Palpating his shaft with intent, Emmrich rolled a grunt against her tongue, both exasperated and needy in equal measure.

"Ariadne- please." His lips numb from her fervor, the corner of them twitched in a smarmy grin at her impatience. "We've made enough of a spectacle as it is."

She gazed up at him like a wild thing; her eyes glossy and lips kiss-swollen, with a heaving chest to match. Looking over first one shoulder, and then the next, she found the streets were calm, and still. The only sound between them were the breaths they exchanged, and the gentle laps of the canal to its revetment.

"You're in luck. There's no one else here now. Only us." Leaning back in to mouth at the jut of his Adams apple, she then tilted back to nip him beneath the jaw. Smiling into his skin as it rumbled with a relenting chuckle.

Peppering a trail of light pecks up and over the cleft in his chin, she sought his mouth once more. "And I've-missed you-Emmrich." Her whispered declaration broken apart by lips that crashed ceaseless upon his.

"I'm-right here, my-darling. I haven't-gone away-" He managed to slip out sections at a time, in the breaks of her assault for breath.

He felt nimble fingers sweep across his shoulder blades, to knot in the draping along his upper back. Her free hand had found the close-cropped hairs at his nape, to comb her nails through the base of his scalp.

Stalling any reservations he might have held, he purred to her attention like a pacified panther. With his guard lowered, she pounced.

"I've missed you inside me." Her hips rocked against him in emphasis.

The little Watcher's words dropped his stomach to somewhere down around his knees. She abandoned his mouth altogether to nose at his pulse, humming in satisfaction at how it quickened beneath the press of her kiss.

The sharp cut of his jaw lured her next, nipping a path along the ridge of bone from chin to mandible. Relishing the deep groan she won for her efforts, and the musk of his aftershave; pine and cedar-wood heightened by the spice of Neroli. Even freshly groomed, stubble was quick to shadow his gaunt cheeks, and she adored the way it caught her lips, and snagged her flesh whenever he nuzzled into her.

"My dear, your enthusiasm flatters more than my words could ever hope to express; but we must exercise some restraint."

She giggled into the open-mouthed kiss that stretched her lips over his high cheekbone.

"Asking me to heel, are you?"

A challenge to his authority, he rose to the occasion with the grace of one who didn't have to force his hand. Submission had been freely given, in offering to receive his lead.

"Not asking, my pet." He increased the pressure of his palm slipped around her nape, scruffing her like an unruly kitten as he pried her off the side of his face to lock eyes. He tried not to dwell on how limp she went in his hold, or the salacious little mewl that squeaked past her lips. "Expecting."

She peered up at him as if in a daze. The hazelnut of her eyes nearly overtaken in full by her pupils, her ferality was softened by the thick lashes she fluttered up at him. His other hand rose to cup her jaw, dragging his thumb down over her bottom lip.

They parted for him in obedience, the pink of her tongue coming to flick over the tip of his digit in dizzying suggestion.

"One of these days, my love, I will be undone by you." He slid the gloved pad of his thumb over the muscle, through her teeth. Sealing her lips around him, she began to suckle whilst holding his eye-contact, his lids now just as heavy as her own.

The gentle pulling of her suction, and the swirl of her limber tongue, were sent straight down to the heavy twitching of his groin. His voice all the hoarser for it. "And it will come to the surprise of no one."

A smile spilled across her face. A retort no doubt at the ready, a distant, hostile shout in qunlat - that presented like an expletive - caused her words to die on her tongue.

They turned in unison to see three hulking Antaam charging their way, their painted faces screwed in rage.

Three warriors against the two necromancers, they untangled from one another's embrace. Offering his hand, Emmrich helped her down from the railing to her feet, as her much smaller one slid over it in acceptance of the gesture.

The roaring Qun's interference offered harsh sobriety, Emmrich's withdrawal from her body heat stung. Not at all dissimilar than if he had plunged himself in an ice bath.

Sharing a brief glance as the assailants advanced, the two Watchers split up to close in before they lost the chance.

The largest of the three, the surmised leader, honed in on Ariadne. Though there wasn't much assistance he could lend, his hands full with the other two.

He made sort work of the first; ensnaring him in vortex of the intolerable hisses and shrieks of damned souls. It pulled him to his knees while he held his ears to the tortured plight they now put upon him. With shut eyes and covered ears that wept crimson, Emmrich turned his attention to the second.

In a display far less flashy, he swept him up in a similar, vicious gust that sent him careening backwards into a far-off trellis, one he had been admiring mere moments ago. The collision saw it splinter into a cloud of wooden slats and mangled greenery. The warrior remained motionless, upended over the wreckage.

Having all but written off the first, he ignored his presence in favor of seeking out Ariadne. Availing himself to her aid had been his desire from the start.

Spinning on his heel he found her, standing above the leader who had begun the process of disintegration by way of concentrated necrosis. Sprawled at her feet, he clutched at his throat in a futile attempt to prevent his gasping breaths from continuing to siphon. The unassuming young Death Caller took a step back, prying her eyes away long enough to catch his.

The beginnings of a triumphant smile morphed into a flash of panic, as her gaze shifted from his face, to beyond his shoulder.

"Emmrich!"

Her warning had sufficed. Whipping his head around with plenty of time, and distance, between himself and the charging Qun, the chipped edge of his blade poised to embed itself in the senior Watchers chest. Stricken blind, it saw him swinging it with heightened aggression, and in a worrying lack of direction.

The situation corrected itself just as quick. One moment he had been staring down the jagged bite of battleaxe, and before he could react, she had taken his place. A violet ripple flickering in the Fade, she then materialized in front of him. Right in the buffer that separated him from hungry steel wielded by an angry, blinded Qun.

Insinuated between them as if to shield him with her smaller, delicate frame. Only by then the warrior had been much closer than before, shortening the distance with his lumbering flails.

Placing herself in much more danger than he himself had been.

An acidic eruption of necrosis sprang forth from her outstretched hands, and not a moment too soon. A plume of murk that enveloped him in unending smoke, the torrent bent to her whim and swirled at her command, as if it possessed sentience.

Curling around his being in gaseous rot, it dissolved his armor with the same ease it did his flesh. Rending him to the ground in a sloughed heap of bone glinting from beneath pulpy tissue.

She kept her eyes trained to the veritable sludge that up until recently resembled a fearsome biped, all the while his bore into the back of her head. Molten embers where placid pools used to be.

How could she be so cavalier in risking what was most precious to him?

The very thing that called the entirety of his pursuit of Lichdom into question; unable to conceive of the loss of her from the remainder of his days, much less having to bear her absence for all of eternity.

A gesture that could have endeared him, his innermost turmoil saw it twisted.

And as much as he didn't want to acknowledge it, it touched on the sensitivity of his age - the tenderest spot. All his frustrations and guilt as of late wove back to that resentful infestation of the self.

Did she think him feeble? Impotent?

It was a curious thing, he never considered himself old before her. Fresh into his fifties, he was just as fit and alert as ever. Even more so then some of the youngest men at the Necropolis.

Softness has gathered in areas where there hadn't been. Aches in his joints persisted for longer than before. The salt and pepper of his hair had since committed to it's silver luster, and his crows feet had decided to stay. Despite all physical signs of maturity, it hadn't stemmed the flow of admirers he'd attracted, both in and outside of his classroom.

Yet when Ariadne all but plopped herself into his lap, he felt geriatric.

A coy glint roused in the hazelnut of her eyes upon noting his bewilderment. Having misread his expression entirely.

"What would you do without me?"

The muscle of his jaw rippled as he clenched it. "An apt question indeed."

His terse grit startled her like a clap to the cheek, quirking her brows.

"What's wrong?"

"Your recklessness." He bit back, frustration narrowing his round eyes to accusatory slits. "Needless endangerment is not heroic, it is inane."

Emmrich had never snapped at her before. Once she thought on it, she realized she had never seen him lose his temper with anyone.

Grappling with a whirlwind of confusion, she latched on to one point of many that insulted her sensibilities. "Needless?" She parroted. "You were seconds from being cleaved in half! What would you have had me do, stand idle to your demise?"

He softened, but only some.

"Do you think, in such a scenario, that I'd prefer you, then, in my stead?"

Hip cocked, she folded her arms across her chest in defiance. "You were threatened, so I acted."

"Yes, you most certainly did." He conceded. "With breathtaking imprudence."

The scar striping her nose disappeared into the adorable, girlish crinkle at the bridge. "I'm no thing to be coddled."

"I'm not coddling, dearest." His anger ebbed into the tired patronizing of a professor lecturing a rebellious student. His inclusion of the pet name had her bristling. "Do you hold self preservation in such low regard?"

"I'll not apologize for wanting to protect you." Knowing full well her spite would only worsen things, she was too aggravated to ponder the decision. "You're very welcome, by the way."

"I'm quite able to fend for myself, my dear." For how dignified he maintained, his ruefulness was just as clear. Splintering his poise like veins through marble. "I've been doing so since well before you were even born."

That sent her eyes back into her skull. "Oh, Maker - anything to bring that up, I see."

"It bares repeating." He stiffened.

"Is that what this is about?" She scoffed, her tone raising to a chirp. "Is your ego so fragile that it's bruised just by coming to your defense?"

His hackles raised despite himself. For how soon he was to forget just how mouthy she was, her attitude was quicker to remind him. As did her penchant for needing the last word.

"This isn't about ego - I'd just simply ask that you abstain from rushing into danger headlong."

Enunciated with the air of someone unruffled, Emmrich had succeeded in snuffing out the spark of his anger before it spread, while hers only seemed to blaze in full swell.

"Are you quite finished berating me like I'm a child?"

"That," he plunged his voice into his chest, his admonition firm. "is contingent on whether or not you continue to behave like one."

Her pupils dialed to points that pierced him. Her pout pressed to thin line, she glared up at him with a suspiciously stilled tongue. He matched her, but with a significant discrepancy in vitriol.

"A necromancer so afeared of his very medium, it reduces him to petty insults."

A hideous thing to say. No sooner did the words escape her mouth, did the tension between them see fit to gag her, but it had come too little too late. Her venom singed him.

Holding her stare, he remained quiet, his uncertainty of how to proceed etched in the deepened lines of his face. All the while, remorse spilled through hers. Gradual and dreaded, like a wound as it bled through gauze.

A sigh then bruised his lungs. "So it would seem."

Her rationale pleaded with her to say something - anything - her owed apology notwithstanding. Her throat locked with a dry, acrid taste in her mouth to the mere thought.

The infestation of her foul mood first needed to be exterminated, before she'd be allowed to speak. Lest she do further damage.

"We've dallied for long enough." While chaste, his inflection had regained much as it's usual strength, and his expression matched his solemn posture. Though he couldn't hide the wistful glint from his eye. Not from her. "I believe it's time we were on our way."

The rest of their time together was condemned to contemplation, and unbearable silence.

By the time they reached The Cantori Diamond, Ariadne had simmered. More regretful of what she said in carelessness, than what had gotten her so hot in the first place.

She thought to try for reconciliation, but her pride - and shame - kept her preoccupied, as she relived their argument.

Her temper had flared, but she didn't mean to lash out so. Her confusion to his vulnerability certainly didn't excuse her indelicate handling of it.

Though Emmrich's state remained questionable.

His frustration with her had been much quicker to cool. A sudden spark of unchecked emotion before he smoothed himself back over, as if his careful disposition had never cracked in the first place. Yet he was still troubled. Still on edge.

Still dismayed by her accusation, and how rash her behavior.

The little elf stole sidelong glances at him on the occasion, brimming with the hope their banter had returned with every breath he took, or sighed.

But Emmrich opened his mouth to broach her not once. So neither did she.

Upon their return, they were greeted by Neve. Waiting for them outside on the balcony, poised with the anticipation of one who bore news.

Her keen observation noted the shift right away.

Mussed hair and disheveled armor, with more than enough guilt between them weighing their repentant expressions. Though she deduced it wasn't from unbridled passion at each other's hands; a suspicion that had everything to do with the space that split them down the middle, and kept them apart.

As they approached her, Emmrich maintained his separation. Holding hands - that never seemed able to resist the cheeky little blonde for any reasonable length of time - clasped behind his back. It raised her brow, but she refrained from commenting.

"Emmrich, Viago's waiting for you. A Crow took down an alleged associate of The Butcher's, and they're hoping you could lend your expertise in getting their dead to talk."

"Certainly." He obliged, at the ready to take his leave of the women, though not before lingering for a moment as he looked to Ariadne.

Expecting her to follow, the junior Watcher never refused an invitation to watch him work - least of all for the opportunity to observe corpse whispering. However she stood in place with no motion to join him, finding herself unable to meet his gaze. His chest caved in with a sigh.

"Until later then, darling?"

She merely hummed.

With the discomfort of that parting metastasized, she at last looked up in time to see his retreating form disappear inside. Shoulders sagging, she turned to Neve, whose manicured brow arched in suspicion.

The young mage looked spurned, as if she hadn't been the one to rebuff him. She cut in before the detective could begin her line of questioning.

"You've got the look of a bearer of bad news."

The taller mage tittered. "Only depending on how you look at it."

"Alright, let's hear it." She urged with a tired grimace.

"The Eluvian's acting out. Bell sent word she won't have it sorted before first light."

Ariadne expelled a lengthy breath. Hands on her hips, she shot her eyes upwards, seeking the strength of some unknown, higher-power. "Great."

Neve's simper threatened to become a full smile. "Aren't you going to ask me for the good news?"

"There's good news?"

"Teia's putting us up for the night." She revealed, implicit slyness alight in her hooded gaze. "I've heard tell that The Diamond's suites are something intimate."

The Watcher's heart fluttered at her friends insinuation, though reality was quick to temper that girlish rush of excitement. As if she'd been so fortunate to have forgotten about their spat so soon.

A turn events that would have been kismet, now it just seemed cruel.

"Oh..." Was all she gave. A weak, resigned mutter, it was a far cry from the reaction Neve presumed. "We could use some time away... that could be good for us."

"Alright you," she sighed, a warmth to her impending patronization. "Far be it from me to pry, but those were certainly not the faces I expected when you returned." Her shift from partner in crime, to sororal confidant complete, she gestured towards the balcony with one arm, while she encircled Ariadne with the other. "Want to talk about it?"

Ariadne stayed with Neve for a long while, probably too long. While she valued the slightly-less-than-impartial insight, she was stalling. Only leaving the comfort of her company after she was all but shooed away to go to Emmrich, and make amends.

Finding their room with relative ease, she had run into Viago on her way - without the professor- having deduced that he retired to their shared suite, and was awaiting her there.

Trying the door knob before knocking, she found it unlocked. A pit had sunken in her stomach at the confrontation that she wouldn't be able to avoid him for any longer, no matter how ardent her attempts.

The unlatched handle was an open invitation, one she now found herself hesitant to accept. Suffocated by the weight of indignity at once more receiving his severe disapproval, she only had herself to blame.

She let herself inside, creeping through the door with as muffled of footsteps as she could manage. Unsure why she even bothered to avoid attracting attention to herself, knowing her appearance was expected.

She found his regal figure stood before a large picture window adjacent from the doorway, bathed in the luminous glow of the moon as it spilled in through the panes. An arm bent at the small of his back, the other held a stout glass of deep burgundy liquid.

The room was every bit as romantic as Neve's implication. Rich sanguine textiles dressed sturdy, ebony wood furnishings, all carved with correlating floral motifs that were as intricate as they were subtle. A handful of lanterns had already been lit; just enough to keep him from the same shadows they whipped against the ceiling, and stretched across the walls. His back to her, she slipped the rest of the way inside.

Her concentration shattered into a wince, at how deafening the latch clicked into place behind her amidst his silence. Though to the announcement of her arrival, he didn't budge an inch.

She waited in the beat that followed, suspended in the moment like a withheld breath.

Unsure of where they now stood, she needed him to be the first to act. She needed him to lead. After an eternity made to stew, he then turned his head just as far as his shoulder, his silhouette heightened by candlelight.

"Darling." Was all she got by way of a greeting, or clue to his mood. His even tone addressed her like the whisper of fine silk shifting over steel.

Dignified and assertive as ever, it both lured her in, and hid away his inner machinations. Her eyes followed his hand as he brought the glass to his lips for a healthy sip.

"Were you able to learn anything?" She tested while remaining by the door, working her cadence into conversational neutrality. Steeling herself to the possibility of a long evening ahead; one cold and lonely.

"Unfortunately, nothing the Crows were not already aware of." He dismissed with a sigh, his attention coaxed back through the window to regard the smattering of stars that smeared the midnight sky, instead of her. "Their corpse proved quite stubborn."

He presented her an opportunity, and she grasped at it in desperation.

"I'm surprised, you're so very good at taming stubborn."

Her playful attempt at schmoozing won a stiff snort, and nothing more.

"Oh..." Breathed with a coy lilt, she feigned innocence that could have been believable, if she were anyone else. "Are you still cross with me?"

Stealing another gulp, he sneered against it's bite. The strength of which smoked his voice to a heady resonant.

"Back during your apprenticeship, when you disobeyed one of your superiors, or spoke back at them out of turn; in what manner did they see fit to punish you?"

Far from the course of conversation she anticipated, it had her reeling. A preemptive attack from which she was slow to recover.

"I... got a good tongue lashing." Her words were tight from a throat that fought against their release. "A common occurrence, I might add."

"Just as I suspected." After a breath, he then angled a brow down into his drink. "The correction of your behavior falls into my lap after all."

Every time she believed she had righted herself on even footing, he staggered her once more, each time quicker than the last.

He now had her pinned and wriggling from beneath his thumb. The obstreperous little necromancer who never knew when to quit.

Who acted out, and prodded boundaries - yearning to know where one ended, and the next began.

He was inundated all of a sudden with the memories of his colleagues, and from not long ago, bemoaning the unruly young apprentice. How stubborn, and non-compliant she portrayed. How impossible she was to reign in.

Emmrich now well understood what she needed. And his was just the firm hand for the undertaking.

She cocked her head at him with a wrinkled brow of her own. "Meaning...?"

To this, he turned to her. At last face to face, she fought the urge to squirm beneath the weight of his gaze. Shrinking away like a frisky cub who had nipped the ear of the panther one time too many.

"Tell me, my dear, do you recall during our first night together, you mused what discipline by my hand might have been like?"

The little elf blinked. Opening her mouth, only for it to fall shut, she then answered lamely. "Yes... I do."

Though his expression was serene, his tone lowered several octaves.

"That mouth of yours has landed you in quite the bind." Without breaking eye contact, he pushed away from the window and strode the short distance to the writing desk that sat between them. "One a miserly tongue lashing will not relieve you of."

Her lips quirked in the beginnings of a scoff, but before the sound could complete itself, Emmrich interjected. His brow lifted in infuriatingly dashing arrogance, his authoritative edge cut through her with a shiver as he made his first demand.

"Remove your clothing. All of it."

A smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth, but she crushed that threat upon recognizing his severity.

The young Watcher couldn't help but hang there with a dumb look on her face, only to be shaken from it by his gentle condescension. Ever patient, but grave in unambiguity. "Was there something of my instruction that necessitates reiteration?"

Speechless in reply, his expectant look goaded her to follow his orders.

However coltish her movements, and the beginnings of embarrassment heating her cheeks, she did as Emmrich said. Prying off her boots and shimmying out of the layers of leather and cotton that clung to her legs, all that was left was to shirk the bolero from her shoulders, and pull her collared blouse up and over her head.

A groan seethed from the pit of his chest at the sight of her body naked and flushed.

Teacup breasts that fit so nice in his hold, it was as if they budded to the exact specifications of his hands. The dusky peaks of her nipples hardened to their abrupt exposure. The temperature of the room mild, they stiffened to attention all the same. An achievement he prided himself on.

Her form so fresh and nubile, an ethereal daintiness afforded by her elven features made for an enticing complement to her other, fuller attributes. Decidedly all woman. A slim waist accentuated how wide her hips were by comparison, the observation incited reckless imagination.

Rousing fantasies from the most debauched of his recesses, the sort he'd otherwise be far too ashamed to acknowledge. The age that he was, and the gentleman's demeanor he paid strict adherence to.

His little Watcher wasn't shy. Even as early into their relationship as they were, he had seen her naked plenty. Yet this was uncharted territory; a new, untried side of Emmrich that both thrilled and intimidated her all at once.

Though she rushed to strip at his behest, her hands rose to cover what indecency she could think to shield. The first mistake of many he'd soon scold her for.

"Ah- drop them." His chin lifted, his one brow arched. "Now."

A whimper blossomed in her throat as she forced her hands to her sides. He flicked his gaze over her from head to toe, candid in his assessment of her presentation.

Her timid posture, her fidgeting. That untamed, seductive shimmer returned to her eye.

The appetitive press of her inner thighs against themselves. Done with her body stilled and expression reserved, in hopes he wouldn't catch her.

"Unlike my fellow colleagues, you'll find me to be far less tolerant of such poor deportment." He stood tall across from her, lengthening his gait to step out from behind the desk. "Might there be even the faintest desire to offer penitence, my girl? Are you willing to submit to me your due deference?"

The blush that began at her cheeks flooded throughout the entirety of her body. The skin of her arms and legs pebbled to his crooning, she felt the impulse to rub them from her limbs, but thought better of it.

Pinned in place by his gaze, every part of him seemed to hold her to some level of expectation. At that moment his eyes alone, bright with persuasion, forbade her from touching herself again without permission.

So she opted instead to nod, and he smiled.

"Come." His fingers thrummed the surface of the desk. "You're to lean across here. Hold yourself up by your elbows. Shoulders straight, and head forward."

His cool voice and composure made for an unfair advantage, one that snuffed her resistance like a candle's flame spluttering at the end of a spent wick.

She ambled to the ledge of the desk before bending herself over it, just as she was told. Her elbows met the the polished wood cold and rigid, while the height dug it's beveled edge just beneath her sternum.

Emmrich left her there, perched on the balls of her feet, as he circled her compromised position.

"Spare the rod, and spoil the child." He volunteered with a mournful sigh, as if a sympathetic father who wanted to spank their ill-behaved offspring about as much as the she wanted to receive the spanking.

Only Emmrich was eager to introduce her to such a lesson. As eager as she was to participate, if the full roseate flush that stained her was any indication. "While I feel compelled to disclaim that I do not condone any harm done to children, you are no child. And the principal rings true."

The air fought her distressed lungs. Her struggle only worsened, as he then set his gloves on the desk for her to see. While he remained behind her, she heard the discordant murmur of him reaching for the Fade, before a hush of fraught silence fell over them once more.

When his palm slid over the swell of her exposed bottom she gasped aloud; both at the sudden contact, and how his touch wasn't just warm - it was just shy of burning.

Startled more than uncomfortable, he had her eased into the increased heat before long. "W-what are you-?"

"Enhancing sensation." His explanation as blasé as if he were no more than reciting the dogma of autogenous liminality, he teased her flesh. "Heat promotes circulation, which in turn, will heighten your sensitivity."

His caress was a means to have her more suggestible to his discipline, though it demanded monumental restraint on his end to not insert his fingers inside her.

Her soft, needy sex mere inches from where his touch occupied. His attention on that area, and all his talk of punishment at last culminated in awareness to what the fog of her mind had prevented her from understanding.

"Are you... going to give me a spanking?" Escaping from her in jest, she couldn't help how her tone quavered beneath the weight of the words. A correct response, as he affirmed her suspicion.

"I am. Twenty times to be exact. Does that seem fair, my dear?"

"Only twenty?" Teased her simper apart, the goad of one who hadn't a clue what she was in for. Her underestimation of the kind professor woeful.

Emmrich gazed upon her petite frame bent in half before him with fondness, unperturbed by her attempted riling. Withdrawing his touch, satisfied with the rosy hue he had rubbed to the surface, his next command was as calm as it was cunning.

"You're going to reach out to the Fade for me. Once you have it, you'll want a firm hold."

He soon caught sight of a chartreuse glimmer curl and wisp itself around the joints of her wrists and fingers, as she flexed them against the wood. Slight and fluid manipulation, it then settled against her hands like a second skin, translucent in the moonlight.

She had professed many times how she was awed when watching him cast; an appreciation for their shared art that he found just as delightful in her demonstration.

Where he was precise and rhythmic, she was energetic, and inconstant. The unapologetic rawness, to his innate grace. "Very good. You're to hold that just as you are; you may release only when I permit you to do so."

His choice of phrasing went straight to her clit, as it pulsed in anticipation. The opulence of the room warped fuzzy and tilted to her bleary vision, her blood-pressure spiking to how stern his directive.

"Yes sir." She breathed, lifting higher on her toes, she gave a performative little sway of her hips.

It clenched his jaw until the joint creaked, though as far as she was concerned, he was otherwise unmoved by her bold provocation.

"With every strike, you will count out each one. Should you fail to maintain your cast, or lose count, we shall have to start again from the top." He cleared his throat upon concluding his recitation of her rules.

His voice had yet to pitch any higher than chest deep, and her heart threw itself at her ribs with every agonizing syllable. "Have I made myself perfectly clear?"

"Perfectly."

"Good."

His hands settling over her flesh had her breath catch, before it melted into the air in a sigh of relief. Emmrich smiled to himself, his ego fostered by how well she took to his touch. The slightest of his attention quelled her fire, rendering her meek and pliant.

His palms still hot, he stroked and massaged her in further preparation. Any time his finger-tips teased a suspicious descent between her thighs, her hips would rock in precious expectancy.

Finding the sense of security he lulled her to advantageous, his arm snapped forward, doling the first strike.

Nothing too severe, though it wasn't gentle - no where near as gentle as she assumed. A foolish assumption she amended on the spot. The slap of flesh echoing against her ear, she sucked in a stunned breath.

"One."

He had her full attention.

"That was very cute." Chuckled with playful condescension, her body betrayed her as it clenched in conditioned response to his voice. "A promising display of your cooperation, though we have yet to begun."

"W-what?"

"A necessary warm-up, dear girl." He collected his glass for one final sip of brandy, before discarding it back to the desk beside her. It thickened his voice to a confident drawl. "You'll know when I begin in earnest."

Thus began what felt like an hour long rehearsal of what was to come.

Emmrich paddled her with a firm hand, and varied positioning. He maintained a steady pressure, taking care between each one to soothe her stinging flesh by either a tickle, or purposeful effleurage strokes. Her grasp on the Fade came close to wavering, but never enough that he could see it's strength falter.

His insolent little mage harmonized their room with her yips, all the while he drip-fed careful praise to make certain her willfulness remained staunch.

"Such lovely little noises you make." His purr slunk between his lips to her twitching ears. It was all the preamble he spared before the transition from exercise to execution.

His first proper smack ripped the loudest gasp from her yet.

True to his word, she could sense the shift in his intentions by the weight and trajectory of his cupped palm alone. Her body sagged against the desk upon feeling him smooth over the faint pinch of toned flesh.

"O-one." She hushed, humility taking root.

"Good." He cooed. "Very good."

The next was a hair firmer, and her eyes widened as it sent her bobbing across the desk.

"Two." A more permanent blush swelled across her cheekbones, the dusty pink deepening to a vibrant rogue. Her fingers curled against the wood.

Emmrich ran a hand through his coif, fingers combing strands of hair that weren't mussed out of place to begin with. When he dropped his hand, it sailed upwards her rear for an underhanded strike.

Clapping her upside the gluteal crease, he swallowed thick beneath his collar at the way her peachy orbs jostled against the belt of his palm.

A strangled noise erupted from her, like a kitten whose tail he caught underfoot.

"Three-!"

"I must profess, darling, I expected you to put up much more of a fuss." He comforted the newest sting to prickle against her backside. "Surely I haven't silenced that smart mouth of yours already."

She was shocked by how well suited he was to playing the disciplinarian, and she was a fool to be.

Emmrich didn't have a cruel or haughty bone in his body, a fact that she would have attested to until that very moment. It wasn't born in the absence of kindness, so much as it came from his pedantic leaning.

He thrived on order, and protocol. Propriety. Steering her back in line came was as natural to him as regulating a classroom, or commanding the dead.

Now that she had been properly acquainted with this side of him, she couldn't help play the brat. Unable to resist the temptation of his masterful ploy.

"I think you're holding back because you're sweet on me." A lazy grin spread her cheeks, while she braced for the bruising she was all but begging for. "Those hands of yours should have me unable to sit for a week."

"Ah," he almost sounded pleased that her bite was returned, if only to excuse his dialed force. "There she is."

Four, five and six made her thighs begin to quiver. Smacking first up the back of her hindquarters, against their left side, and then the right. Thwack-thwack-thwack. A tingle roused beneath the burning skin, it reached the apex of her thighs, as she wept for him there.

Emmrich granted her a moment to catch her breath. Petting the sting, his praise un-spooled from the seat of his chest near vulpine in it's conceit. His croon cloying and velvet rich.

"You are doing very well, my little darling." Continuing to pet her, he eyed the glow emanating from her fists for any signs of weakness in her tether. "Though it comes as no surprise, I'm sure to you this has all felt little more than a tickle."

His next three blows were rapid fire, coming firmer than she was prepared for, and faster than she could count out in sync.

"Seven-e-eight-nine!" Each one echoed by her shrieks, jolting her higher on her toes while she scrambled further along the desk, as if to escape him.

Ariadne held tight to the Fade, willing her focus as it threatened to recede from her grasp with every hit. He leered down the prominent bridge of his nose at how she pressed her thighs together with a whimper, and shook his head.

"Ah-ah, there will be none of that." He inserted his foot between hers, nudging her legs apart. "Come now, widen your stance."

With much chagrin she allowed herself to be spread by him, as if she had much say in the matter. The senior Watcher was quick to correct her with the lashing that followed.

Proceeded by a rush of air, it was all the warning she was given before the punishment landed with a crack.

"AhH-! T-ten!"

The worst of it by far, and they were only half-way through.

Her flesh ached, the strength of which rivaled only by the emptiness her walls throbbed around. The wetness that webbed between her flushed lips maddened with discomfort, teasing her with a need for friction he kept her from chasing.

Eleven, twelve, and thirteen were slower than the last round, but made up for in their heft what they lacked in speed. The first of all of them to well tears along her lash line, each one threatened to reduce her to sniveling, as she fought to announce their respective number.

If at any point during the punishment a break was needed, it was then.

He spared her no such benevolence.

The length of his hand in full, the heel of his palm to the tips of his fingers, swept in hard to where the tops of her thighs met her glutes.

A sharp clap of flesh ripped its way through the stifling air. It shoved her across the desk, the glow from her hands flickering like a dying flame.

Fourteen. Fourteen! She hollered at herself, but her mouth was too preoccupied with gasping for breath to comply with that vocalization.

Fourteen dangled from the tip of her tongue, but her lips refused her will. She was so close to twenty. The tops of her thighs stinging, the reverberation of his whack throughout her body saw each and every inch of her pulled taut and humming.

"I'll issue one final warning." He intoned, encouraging her to keep count. "Use your words, darling."

"F-fourt… fourteen." Her voice was a strangled, weak thing. A flicker of her wildfire not yet extinguished, it goaded the low, mutter of "masal din'an." to seethe from her before she could even think to stifle it.

Aware that Emmrich most likely heard, a shred of hope blossomed in the shelter of assumption that he couldn't decipher the specific venom, obscured in the elvish.

Time ground to a halt. Everything seized in that moment, even her heart.

Then came the shuffling of feet as he positioned himself behind her, caging her against him as he planted one palm alongside her elbow, and then the other.

She braced herself as he swept in low, his mouth hovering beside her blushed ear. Her skin prickled in a wave down her body as that shelter cast her out into exposure, that faint gasp of hope shriveled and wilting.

In a startlingly fluent timbre, "ma nuvenin" was purred in response.

As you say.

The little elf shivered at the depth and severity of his enunciation. Eyes widening, heat flushed upwards from her neck in a vibrant bloom that stained the whole of her face. The arousal at hearing her language in his voice was almost enough to eclipse her dread that he knew exactly what vulgarity she had slung his way.

"Y-you-!"

Another whack doled to her tender flesh, though one that was sharp as it was stinging. Hollow. He didn't allow the meat of his palm to cup the swelling upon impact, nor did he soothe it with a lingering touch. He rebounded like snapped twine. It was a biting smack, one that had her suck at the air around her for strength.

"Fifteen!"

Before she could offer a weak excuse, he scolded her with tired disappointment. "Honestly, dear, you think me unacquainted with your tongue?"

He adored the sight of her flushed skin pebbling in the wake of this revelation. Though the exact verbiage a little muddled, he was able to parse the broad strokes. Recognizing her off-color assertions of his manhood in no uncertain terms.

"Quite the gamble, speaking to me in such a way. Perhaps I've been a touch too lenient?" He clicked his tongue, crooning with silken fluency. "Mala suledin nadas."

Now you must endure.

She craned her neck to steal a glance at him from over her shoulder.

Head held high and shoulders drawn back, not a hair of him was out of place. His leer shone with en-rapt attention - and a stray glint of gratification - one that had knotted her stomach when she caught it. He chided her all the same.

"Don't worry yourself with what's happening back here." His touch teased a path all the way up her spine to her nape, finding a hold in the ashen locks he wove his fingers through. His grip domineering, he squeezed the roots just enough, her scalp flaring in a sensual tingle as her gaped pout let slip a breathy moan.

He chuckled as he guided her head back to it's position by the reigns of her hair. "Keep your head straight and your eyes forward, dear girl. Your attention should be on your cast. Not on me."

Releasing her tresses, his splayed palm dragged back down the length of her body to flatten over her sacrum, pinning her still with even pressure. Switching to his non-dominant hand, he proved it no less proficient, as it whistled through the air before landing against her raw skin.

She didn't think a bare hand, one that fondled her so lovingly, could also raise welts on the very flesh it revered. The chafed skin of her backside served to oppose that mutual exclusivity.

"Sixteen!" Her voice cracked as she pushed it from her chest, wound tight against the blistering sting, and her tenuous grasp on the Fade.

Holding his hand in its place, the one that had just struck her returned, rewarding her with an affectionate graze to the irritation. "You're doing well, sweet girl. Very well indeed."

She opened her mouth to respond - with what, she herself wasn't even sure - before he came down on her once more, this time back against the top of her buttocks. Blossoming a dull, throbbing ache, it wrenched a pathetic sob, hitching her tally.

"S-sev..seven-seventeen." The light from her fists flickered like the flame of a torch whipped in the wind, warning abandonment. She curled her fingers in tighter, until her nails bite the flesh of her palms. Concentration battled her, as did her waning tenacity.

The heaviness of his hand seared across her rump in a ludic swipe. One that melted the beginnings of a harsh gasp into stretched moan.

"Eight-teen-,"

"That's a good girl, we're almost through." His approval at her endurance colored his baritone, soothing her with the tenderness of sincere praise. "You're doing so well for me, da'len." He hushed. "So obedient."

Little one.

She groaned at the familiar pet name, the elvish intonation deepening his voice to a silvery croon. Their power dynamic already tipped against her, this recent development plunged the scale to weigh heavily in his favor.

She could only imagine the humiliation if he let slip such a name to her around the others - he'd have her blushing as furiously as he did back when she was a school girl, buckling her knees in the same fell swoop.

If he only knew the hold he had on her back then.

"Oh, I haven't lost you, have I?" His attempted diversion successful, she hadn't noticed the rustling of his armor behind her, while he began to disrobe. Leisured, and only pieces at a time. The resolve of man well versed in the importance of pacing.

First the onyx outer layers, and gold plated adornments were placed on the desk beside her. Then a green blur in her peripheral, as his collared shirt joined the neat pile. Now bare from the waist up, it was a tactic to further her distraction. For even at the nineteenth, his next blow startled her. Her sore body jerking forward with a throaty groan.

"N-nineteen..."

Grasping the Fade now felt as though she were trying to pluck a sewing needle from the surface of melting ice with a gloved hand. It dimmed in pulsations like the twinkling of a lightning bug, before steadying itself back to his desired opacity. She expelled a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.

"There you are." He purred. "I was beginning to suspect your mind had wandered; we almost began again from the start."

The final blow plucked a yelp from her, frail as her spent lower half felt.

She was finished.

Ending on the same sweet spot of where her rear ended, and her thighs began, a numbness began to seep throughout the burning muscle in ecstasy. A kindness of her body, having turned the intensity of his pain to subdued pleasure. Admittedly not as delicious, but leagues more tolerable.

"Twenty."

"Yes, dear girl, I believe so." One palm swept an absent-minded path over the swell of her, now thoroughly raw and hot to the touch. "I wonder; was I successful in communicating the purpose of this lesson? Or does that darling petulance within you remain?"

"I... but you said-," her tongue stalled, as sluggish and unreliable in her mouth as it was when she was intoxicated. She huffed in frustration, and tried again. "I did as you said-,"

"An adequate performance, though not wholly satisfactory." He of course teased, but did so believably. "I question your interpretation of this exercise."

"I... I've been good." She croaked in embarrassment to how subdued he had her.

"Have you now?" He mused, his palm sweeping over her like his touch was a balm to the angry flesh. "Only one way to be certain."

He sank to his knees behind her, and swallowed hard at what he found.

He could see how swollen she had grown from his spanking. Burning bright pink, and drooling from between her quivering thighs.

"Oh just look at you." His warm breath misted against her as he rumbled in appreciation. Though he still kept firm to his stringency, his admiration was unmistakable. "I fear my punishment was enjoyed, and rather too much, you wicked little thing."

"I-I, I didn't... I-,"

"Shhh." Mouth snapped shut, her eyes misted despite herself, as he spread her apart in more thorough inspection. His fingers adroit and reverent, as if peeling apart the petals of a tulip in fresh bloom. Wet with early morning dew. "It's of no use to demur, my girl. I see well the mess I've made of you."

Any semblance of a reply she might have been able to articulate was strangled by the obscene moan that erupted up her throat.

Opting against prelude, Emmrich had darted between her shivering thighs to flatten his tongue against her slit. Opening her up to his eager mouth, the agile muscle flicked and slithered along her slick heat.

At his first taste of her piquant nectar, he groaned into her, feeling it's conduction along her aching sex as much as she heard it muffled from between her legs.

An imperceptible pressure bore down around the entirety of her body, squeezing a gasp from her burning lungs that choked it's way out. Ariadne felt his lips curl in a smug grin against her tender folds, before beginning to move them against her in the makings of a deep, impassioned kiss.

He worked her entrance to interrogation. Demanding her noises, and her trembles against his relentless mouth. Intent to find the obstinate little hellion he believed to still be lurking within.

"E-em... Emmrich-," her eyes watering, a mantra of his name poured listless for him. Hoping it served as just recompense.

He answered by creating a seal of his glistening lips around her cunt. Pulling hard, he grunted as she rocked back into his face, constricting in hollow pulsations against the tip of his tongue to encourage it's entry.

To surprise so great it collapsed her against the desk, he granted her request.

Palms snatched her thighs to hold her still, he probed the slick muscle in and out of her weeping center with lethal precision. His girth heavy between his thighs, it flicked against his trousers with impatience. His condition worsened with her every strained whimper, and disjointed stutter against his strong chin. That damnable scruff brushing her sensitive clit, the groomed whiskers of his mustache tickled her to similar unraveling.

Between the steady pressure of his shadowed jaw to rub her bud against, and his lips and tongue orchestrating a devoted composition, he had already dragged her before the crest of her release.

She had indeed done well for him, and to her efforts, a reward was owed.

Emmrich tipped his chin to allow his tongue access to her swollen pearl. Teasing it with feather light pressure in clockwise motion, he closed in tighter with every circle. Weaponizing the vibration of his hums in tandem with his ministrations, she came crashing down against his mouth with little more prodding.

The elf whined with such loud sincerity, he was certain the odd passersby as far as the very end of the walk outside their window, could have heard her without difficulty.

He lapped at her mussed petals, cleaning her up with paternal attentiveness as her full-body tremors relaxed to sporadic twitches. Next came his own maw, smeared and shining with her pearlescent remnants. Licking his lips while he rose to his feet, his sharp brow arched as he looked her over.

"Oh, aren't you a treasure." He murmured in reverential disbelief in catching sight of her persistent hold to the Fade, however weakened. "You may release, dearest, just as you may await me in bed."

Ariadne picked herself up from the desk, and lowered herself to her heels for the first time since the professors punishment.

The very professor who watched with open satisfaction as she limped across the floor, on thighs that still wobbled from his oral dissection.

Emmrich dropped his trousers where he stood, stepping out of them the moment she pulled herself onto the lavishly made bed. Electing to keep herself propped up for him on all fours, he hadn't expressed to her the position he wanted her in, she just knew. She could read it in way she felt his leer rake across her, dutiful in her presentation to him on her hands and knees.

He had never been so assertive with her before, least of all with such determination. His dexterous hands bruising in their strength. His height wielded to impose, like he had something to prove.

She hazarded a glance at him from over her shoulder.

A lean athleticism to his tapered physique, his regular, early morning cardio showed in the toned ripple that carved through the length of his abdominals.

Obliques tensed, his traps pulled taut his broad shoulders as he held himself erect before her admiration.

A dusting of silver hair between his pectorals, they mapped down his linea alba, coaxing her gaze down with it to arrive at the soft thatch beneath his naval. That handsome iron trail lead further, not that she required any additional incentive to seek what waited lower still.

His engorged length bobbed upwards in a slender curve towards his abdomen. A bead of precum at his tip, he quirked in gentle pulsations from between his thighs in wait.

He didn't permit her too much indulgence, beginning to make his way towards her with the sort of noble confidence only afforded to one who knew how he appealing we was to his lover. One who maintained exceptional care of himself, and knew his efforts were appreciated.

She wasn't left to her lonesome for long. Joining her at the edge of the bed, he grabbed her by the hip-bones to yank her up, and back to meet his groin. One foot planted on the floor, he drew his knee up on the the mattress. Dropping his pelvis to grant them the deeper angle they both knew they needed.

Grabbing himself roughly about his swollen base, his patience lasted only for as long as it took him to align himself with her soaked folds. Pushing through them with his tip, a whine dislodged from him with the guttural timbre of an animal claiming a compatible mate.

By the time Emmrich sank inside her, just to the point of where curve of his head blended with his shaft, he was completely gone. Head tipped back, a wet and strained noise of fervor sprang from the back of his throat.

Her tight velvet sheathed him one agonizing inch at a time. Even with her lubrication he still hurt her; unable to hold himself back once he felt that initial, hasty stretch of her walls. A growl seeped from his depths, knotted and yanking inward, as her muscle squeezed at him with her own greed.

He was able to will himself still for long enough to allow her time to adjust - a decent girth, he was longer than he was wide when swelled in full. A lot for her small frame to take, slotting himself to the hilt saw him bottom-out in the same motion. A gasp tugged itself from the tender depths of which his cockhead just battered.

The noises he made when he buried himself within her never failed to tighten her around him. Like a reflex, his groaned relief only worsened her need for her own.

This time had been different. He didn't experience relief. He didn't feel satiation from her plush heat kneading his heft. It only worsened his withdrawal. He wouldn't know contentedness until he split her open, and burrowed as far inside her as he could.

"You'll be the death of me, my girl. Gripping me like that," he sighed, relishing the way her core both fought his intrusion, and spasmed wider in frenetic accommodation. "Whimpering, as you are."

Long, spidery digits dug into the firm flesh of her hips for purchase. His chest felt tighter with every breath he relied on to steady himself, to keep from pistoning his hips too hard, too fast. Though her previous defiance tempted half his mind to handle her with such aggression.

Hoarse, full-body pants drooled from him like a sick hound as he began to work himself inside. Fluttering her delicate velvet as he stretched her down around his length, using her hips as both leverage for his slow, too-deep thrusts, and catharsis for what still swirled within him.

The lucidity he had been able to maintain all that time had dissolved just like that. The confines of her slobbering muscle pulsed around him with the suffocating tightness of a woman who sought revenge. Even with how thoroughly she had been broken in, her body reaped retaliation where it could.

It saw his initial thrusts ragged and uneven. The little elf had him sloppy.

"E-em-aHh-!" Ripped from her as he picked up his pace without warning. His taut musculature rigid as he leaned into his momentum, it didn't interfere with his perfect posture, even as he began to drill.

"You're infuriating. No one's ever gotten under my skin quite like you, little Death Caller." His divulgences near frenzied, he suddenly switched his hold on her to clip his hands around her upper arms.

Hoisting her up abruptly, he took from her the hold she had on the duvet. He was all that kept her from falling face first into the mattress. "You haunt my thoughts. I'm unable to rid myself of your smell - how insufferable you are, so arrogant and so effortless as you undo all that I am, all I have striven to become."

Any and all quips or pleas died against the back of her throat, strangled by the shrill yelps from the sheer pressure of his hips snapping against her. Pinching her with his grasp at the crease of her elbows. Locking her against him, while he rode her out with harsh bucks. A single strand of his hair broke free from the pomade that held it in place.

Her bottom still tender and throbbing, it didn't appeal to his mercy to lessen his attack. He was too enamored with how the swell of her fit with his groin, his slick length disappearing into her pretty pink folds with every snap.

Emmrich had always made love to her. Thorough, and meticulous and bursting with tender affection. This time wasn't like that. This was an assertion of his dominance. This was a reminder of her place.

This was a fuck. Pure, and plain as day.

His stamina was a thing to behold, but he had been stretched ever thin since their evening began. Bouncing her up and down his shaft made quick work of his strained resolve, the whispers of his climax pulled at him with neediness reminiscent of his young lover.

"Tell me, my pet." He huffed, his skin prickled at the tightening of his scrotum. Threatening the burst of his dam. "Where would you like me to-"

"In-side-me-!" The demand made breathless and choppy, his unrelenting force stilting each syllable.

He had only ever finished on her; the small of her back, the protrusion of her clavicle, one spur of the moment rendezvous that left him with the visual of him dripping down the quirk of her victorious pout. All at her behest, she had never asked this of him before, and he'd never dare suggest it.

Of course she'd ambush him at such a pregnable moment, when he felt more animal than man. Liable to unwise decisions in his haste to exorcise whatever had possessed him back at the canal.

He shut his eyes tight to her plea, as his stomach flipped over with blunt force. He knew better than to be so irresponsible, and yet-

"Ariadne." Grunted low in warning. "I'll not last much-longer-,"

He hadn't been with her long enough to gauge the risks, unfamiliar with both her cycle, and the strength of her fertility. He hadn't the time to weigh that potential cost, as her wanton mantra of please please please sent the necessary blood blow from his brain to the strain between his legs. As if he could erect harder than he already was.

"Please! Please inside me-please-,"

Her temptation was far greater than the meager shred of resolve he clung to. Her depths were so warm and snug, tugging him in deep and then deeper still. Fluttering around the heft of his cock in frantic coercion.

To feel him crowd against her womb. To leave her feeling full. Of him.

The pressure behind his eyes began to swell, prodding his paper-thin restraint. Pushing him to devolve to his most base biological motivators.

He might have been an older man, but he was still just a man, after all.

Without a hitch in his stride, he released one elbow at a time, snaking her around the abdomen with one wiry arm, he snatched her beneath the dainty cut of her jaw with his other hand.

Bending her head back, he curved over her like a viper. The extra height he had on her allowed him to look into her eyes, manhandling her like a rag doll as his thrusts increased momentum. Reaching new depths with his penetration, signaled by the crude joining of wet flesh. More loosened locks fell into his darkened eyes, further obscuring the man she knew.

Ariadne was mounted by beast who borrowed Emmrich's skin. His touch was known to her, his smell was right; but the force that pummeled her into submission she already surrendered long ago was a force she had yet to reckon with.

His rhythm faltered as she fluttered her lashes up at him, her feline gaze pleading, drunk on his speed and ferocity. Her throat purred beneath his palm with her strangled groans and whimpers, each one sent straight to the knot in his scrotum, uncomfortably tight and twitching.

The jut of his hips canting at a wicked pace, one that telegraphed his crescendo, every withdraw of his veined girth had her keening from the loss. Even from the fractions of a second it took before he thrust back in.

He was only vaguely aware of the depravity that sloshed out from over his neat lines. His crisp presentation crumbling, his mindful respectability now a memory. His view of her full hips unobstructed, her abused womanhood raw and stretched around the brunt of him was all he could subscribe to. The molten ache coiled in the seat of her pelvis cranked tighter and tighter with every nudge to her womb.

A shred of his pride remaining, it was enough. Enough to prevent him from spilling his less savory fantasies, as his tongue tangled a growled litany of English, elvish, and a language unfamiliar to her ear.

An indecipherable proclamation of just what her desire for unprotected copulation did to him, she caught it in fragments only.

Anvallenim, nadas, mamae, and his repeated use of da'len all struck at her with sinful awareness. Each word recognized twitched her ruined cunt around him. Filling in his gaps, enough to betray what he had so thinly veiled.

Somewhere through her mottled stupor she supposed that was by design. To impart his shameful urges without having to face the mortification of hearing himself voice them.

Her perfect gentleman, near unrecognizable with the sheer magnitude of his abandon.

His grunts of elvish and their implications proved to be what brought her to the edge, feeling her seize around him as she fluttered in her tell-tale crest. His tip continuing to jab the spongy patch inside of her his digits had finessed with ease. The way the tine of her right ear gave a little twitch, a call for assistance; all she needed now was a push.

"Come for me, da'len." His grandiloquent embellishment stripped, he commanded her stern and chest-deep. "Come for me."

That broke her.

And she had already been broken from the start.

A release heavy and throbbing, the coil in her stomach sprang loose, scorching her in undulation from the inside out. Fresh wetness dampened the corners of her squint, Emmrich continued to ride her through it. Massaging himself against the clenching ridges of muscle, that wrung him out with every contraction.

"This body of yours, your youth-," he huffed through grit teeth, feeling himself drift further away with every rut against her she had no choice but to take. Yielding to him like she never had before. "-leads my mind to wander to... dangerous places."

"I- l-like you- ...dangerous-," she managed to pant out in pieces. "Please Emmrich - claim me. I want you vulgar and selfish and messy and-,"

Flush against her prenatal chamber, he released.

Without the constraint of reason or dignity, he spent himself with a sharp grunt, his distinguished features screwed up in both elation and regret. His polish had tarnished and dulled, and all for her to witness.

Coating her depths with his seed, and the nagging horror that they could absolutely take root. Yet he could hardly keep his head level, let alone acknowledge such probability. Attempting too proved as successful as pinching a tendril of smoke between his fingertips. Dispersing into oblivion the moment he made contact.

The knots of semen worked their way through his girth, loosening the tension from his bowed shoulders and furrowed brow a little more with each spurt. To his flooding of her sex, she offered tender mewls of repose.

As the blinding ebbed to allow for his good sense's return, he shook like a wet hound. Stuck to her backside, Emmrich was ginger in his movements as he went to withdraw from her blessed center.

She whined in what presented like drunken protest, pawing weakly at him to keep him still, and sheathed to the root inside her. He shut his eyes as he felt the thick viscosity of his spend leak from where their sexes meshed, the sensation stirring lazy kicks of his half-hard cock against her tender walls.

Coiling his arms around her middle to lower her down into the mattress on her belly, he followed her; his softening member still nestled within her sticky heat, as he collapsed half on top of her. It almost could have been spooning, had he more cradled her than crushed her.

Not that she minded at all.

"Mm-mmrich?" Slurred by drowsiness and lousy with satisfaction, the lure of unconsciousness pulled her further and further away from him.

"Yes-," he swallowed his hoarseness, already beginning to rid the evidence of what he had transformed to during their union. "Yes, love?"

After a pause so long he thought her out cold, she then offered; "Your insults aren't petty." Her voice so small he almost didn't hear. A crooked grin curled his lips into her sweat-dampened hair. Her candied musk faint, but lingering.

"No?"

"They're first-rate." She sighed, as if given in grudging propitiation. "Peerless, as you are in all your fields of expertise."

I'm sorry.

Her stroked his thumb along her exposed scapula, seeking to tame her trembles. "An accomplished denigrator, and an old fool. You give me far too much credit, little love. Something I do not grant you near enough."

As am I.

Her breaths deepening, they shared the silence as she soon drifted away. With much care in his handling, he slid his arm beneath her and flipped them, drawing her to his chest where she belonged.

Sleep wouldn't call for him, not for some time. He was still too keyed up from what she had managed to rip from his depths. A mess she made, one she left for him to clean up.

He raked his knuckles up and down her spine, a motion that served to calm him, more than it was for her. When that no longer occupied him, his fingers crawled for her hair. Her bun had fallen out at some point during their tousle, but he couldn't recall when.

Emmrich stared up at the ceiling, his eye following how the sparse candlelight threw the shadow; flickering and twisting the source, it reminded him of how the Fade took to her. How she held it for him, even as he passed her through the maelstrom of release.

His yearning for a drag flared anew, it squirmed in his slender fingers. Aching for a cigarette, but one with the filter bitten clean off.

Tagging as per request: @goddessnyx216

[lizzy06]

Kaminari Denki x Reader Fic Recs!! (Tumblr/Ao3/Wattpad)

My Hero Academia Fic Rec Masterlist

watt and bothered/ tumblr✨💖  by  @andypantsx3/ andypantsx3 (oneshot, fluff, humor, smut(u can skip the smut if u prefer sfw)) For years, you’ve been valiantly battling the world’s most annoying frat bro in the apartment above you. Only, it turns out he’s not a frat bro. And also he’s hot. And also he’s—what the fuck. [COMPLETED]

Sleepwalker✨✨💖 by Fogfire/ @dira333 (oneshot, fluff) When you wake up in a stranger's bed, you don't expect it to be Chargebolt, Pro Hero. You even less expect it to happen again. But who knew what a faulty Quirk could do… [COMPLETED]

Head over Heels for you✨✨💖 by Fogfire/ @dira333 (oneshot, fluff) It's a good thing Denki gets loopy from Painkillers. Or how one accidental confession leads to something more… [COMPLETED]

In Your Arms/tumblr✨ by @alaskasmonsters/ alaskasmonsters (oneshot, fluff) Denki had become a lot more touchy lately with you, constantly seeking out touch from you specifically and you are slowly losing your mind about it… [COMPLETED]

Truth or Dare ✨by orphan_account(oneshot, fluff) You really, really wanna win this game. [COMPLETED]

I will keep on loving you✨✨ by FujisMina63 (fluff, angst, idiots in love) A Fan-fic about what if Denki loses himself to his quirk, but you still stay with him. [COMPLETED]

BNHA Soulmate AU Week Day 5: Drawing on Skin✨ by @writing-freak (oneshot, soulmate AU, fluff) anything you write on your skin shows up on the skin of your soulmate. you often draw the attention of others due to the crazy doodles, scribbles, and words written all over you from head to toe. [COMPLETED]

deal✨ by @candychronicles (oneshot, Soulmate Au, fluff) in a world full of heroes and quirks, finding someone you can love is very, very hard. it’s even harder when you have a soulmate and the words that are tattooed on you are a nightmare. but still, even in this strange world, love finds a way. [COMPETED]

Favor/ tumblr✨ by ScatteredScribbles (oneshot, fluff) The smile is back, and you’re surprised at how that observation alone is enough to make your skin tingle. It’s just leftover bits of electricity, you tell yourself. When he drapes his arm across your shoulder though, your stomach leaps, and you begin to doubt the validity of your own argument. [COMPLETED]

You're Sexy, I'm Sexy by midnightweeds (weedswrites) (oneshot, soulmate au, fluff) “What did you say?” Bakugo asks, still holding his full glass. “After she said-”.[COMPLETED]

Deity Of Light- Kaminari Denki X Apollo! Reader✨ by Lady Blast Execution (Florboo) (oneshot, mythology AU, fluff)“Okay… Now I would like to have an explanation sunshine…. Who exactly are you?” [COMPLETED]

Scarred. by UltraGari(oneshot, comfort) “Can I touch them?”. [COMPLETED]

Seasons Changing by itbeajen(oneshot, hanahaki disease au, angst with happy ending) His only hope was that maybe your feelings would change to match his. [COMPLETED]

Lightning in a Bottle || BNHA by sincerely_bubbles (oneshot, fluff) denki kaminari has a crush, and when she’s around he can’t quite control his thoughts… or his quirk. [COMPLETED]

The "girlfriend" by @katimagines (oneshot, fluff) denki has a girlfriend, except she goes to a different school and no one, absolutely no one believes him. [COMPLETED]

Be Mine by @onyxiana-is-obsessed (oneshot, fluff) Denki’s been crushing on you for a while now and you just don’t seem to pick up on it! So, he asks you out on a date! For real this time! [COMPLETED]

insecure by @shinaus (angst, eventual fluff, mentions of insecurities) Denki Kaminari was in love. He knew it, his friends knew it, his other classmates knew it, but you certainly didn’t catch on to it. [COMPLETED]

Yakitori Time/ tumblr✨ by @vanilladyfics/ Vanillady (oneshot, soulmate au, fluff) Denki Kaminari was born with the first words his soulmate will say to him on his chest. They tell him exactly where they'll meet-- a yakitori restaurant-- but not when. [COMPLETED]

Confetti Love by atsukashii(oneshot, fluff) When Kaminari surprises you with tickets to see your favorite band for your birthday, you finally tell him how you feel in the best way how. [COMPLETED]

Safe by silkylious (oneshot, fluff) Three in the morning. Who the hell would text you at ass o’clock in the morning? You knew who. [COMPLETED]

Why are you so pretty? by Shooting_Stars_Library (oneshot, fluff) Denki is too pretty for the reader to handle. [COMPLETED]

he's a keeper by secretpeachtea (oneshot, fluff) 5 times your boyfriend gives you the wrong gift (+ the one time he gets it right). [COMPLETED]

A Shock to See by bakusquadup (fluff) Kaminari has always had an obsession with cute girls, so when he gets a girlfriend outside UA, you are not surprised in the least. However, when you discover something about his new-found girlfriend, it's hard to remain supportive. [COMPLETED]

Discoveries by cxsmicdxst (oneshot, fluff) “Hey, (y/n), are you alright there? You’ve been staring at the ceiling for the past three minutes.” [COMPLETED]

Shellshocked by @sunflowershouto It’s the training camp, and Denki is sheltered in the building along with the other students that failed the practical. When he hears that the villains are after two particular students, he has to do something to protect the one he loves. [COMPLETED]

Love Me Back by @lordsister (oneshot, fluff) "Please, (y/n)!!! I promise it’ll be fun!”. “My answer is the same as the last twenty times you asked me.” [COMPLETED]

[blueberri-blu]

Beyond the Binary ⊹ฺ๑

You come out as Non-Binary [Rise]Donnie & Leo

[rise]donnie x gn!reader (they/them)

[rise]Leo x gn!reader (they/them)

Raph & Mikey (wip)

Leo

He.. is a little confused

Doesn't entirely know what it means, but when you explain it he just implodes

"wait wait... So... Youre not a boy""no""and youre not a girl?""no"

"So you're like... Your own deal?"

"I guess so, yeah"

"well... Of Course you are! There is only the best for moi! You are my cool, sexy, mysterious s/o!"

He thinks rightfully so that being non binary is just 10x better than being a boy or a girl

"So many opportunities!!"

Believes that you should be worshipped, he already did, but now it's to make you feel validated and seen because "only a true Deity would be as unique as you"

He will challenge anyone who doesn't use your pronouns even after telling them

"Well, THEY are the absolute best thing ever, and YOU could never ever compare in any way!"

On days you feel like you're unsure or maybe even think you're faking it, Leos there to hype you up!

"well, I mean, if you think about it, being a boy/girl is.. really boring" "what?" "Well, Yea, I mean, they have like, set societal norms they wanna fit into and well... You don't want to! That's really cool and rebellious, plus, you have a mysterious aura around you! Making you almost just as good as moi!"

"In a world of Boys and Girls, you are a Star!"

He might not get it at first, but he works to understand you, and just absolutely adores you!

⊹ฺ๑⊹ฺ๑⊹ฺ๑⊹ฺ๑⊹ฺ๑⊹ฺ๑⊹ฺ๑⊹ฺ๑⊹ฺ๑⊹ฺ๑⊹ฺ๑⊹ฺ๑⊹ฺ๑⊹ฺ๑

Donnie

Donnie definitely knows what it is, probably feels a little similar, but decided not to put a label on it

"Hmm well, I do suppose it's to be expected, you have almost never seemed as optimistic with your old pronouns"

He seems to make the pronoun adjustment immediately, not struggling at all

He holds this expectation to his brothers as well, so if any of them accidentally slip up, he will give them "death glare" while killing them with his eyes

He is very supportive of you in little ways

If you're out for everyone, anything he makes for you will have a small, subtle nb flag on it

If youre ever feeling down about your identity, Donnie will either send SHELLDON with some of your comfort items or

If you're really really feeling bad, he will allow you to get physical comfort if that's what you want

If not, although he isn't good with words, he will try his best

He just wants you to feel better as soon as possible

Donnie believes that being non binary has absolutely no affect on your personality, nor you as a person

So he won't outright compliment you on being non binary

But instead will compliment you on things you've expressed insecurities about before

"Hm that shirt doesn't exude male or female qualities, every dumb dumb will be unsure of your gender all day"

In the end, Donnie doesn't care how you identify, all he cares about is that you love and understand him, and he will do the same to you <3

This is a little short, but I'm thinking of doing some one shots with a nonbinary reader! I hope y'all enjoyed this! (⁠✿⁠^⁠‿⁠^⁠)

[simpxxstan]

what about softdom leaning switch!dokyeomie..

thank you for requesting this BECAUSE I AM OBSESSED WITH HIM! this is my first time writing nsfw headcanons without any proper plot (?) so i'm nervous. hopefully you'll not regret requesting this!

this is part of my 550 followers celebration event! find the rest of the content of this event here! the event ends tomorrow (31st July) at 12 midnight UTC. if you wish to request anything (although be warned, i write very slowly), my inbox is open. to those who have requested, thank you for being patient! i'm going to answer them all i promise!

warnings: nsfw minors do not interact implied established relationship with fem!reader, nsfw headcanons. not tagging everything here to avoid spoiling the content but nothing extreme (lmk if you still want me to tag something)

thinking about softdom leaning switch!dokyeom:

who cannot fathom being rough or mean to you, making him literally the softest dom ever. the primary reason he still doms you is likely to be because of your natural size difference (dokyeom LOVES how much bigger he is than you and how he can use his strength to give you pleasure). the second reason is because his life's aim is to pleasure you- thereby making him a service top.

picture him fucking you facing each other literally all the time. EYE CONTACT AND KISSES. my boy needs validation from your expressions and non-verbal behaviour that he's doing it right. missionary, cowgirl, on the tabletop, on the bathroom sink, on the kitchen counter, on a chair. eyes on him.

he doesn't mind the place and time if a. you're willing and in the mood and b. he gets to make you happy. dokyeom, being the energy ball he is, has a high sex drive, and even very little can get him horny. naturally, the two of you have done it EVERYWHERE. concert venue backstage. cafe washroom. shopping mall trial room (yes he got hard when you tried a really pretty dress for him and could. not. hold. back). even the bathroom of one of the member's houses when all of svt and their partners are hanging out.

punishments? dokyeom hasn't heard of it. not into spanking or edging- he would much rather give you as many orgasms as humanly possible. however, this leads to you getting overstimulated without him even realising it. you enjoy it to a certain extent but when it gets a little too tough to bear and you tell him the same, he immediately starts apologising so much and kisses you all over and stops whatever he was doing and lets you rest EVEN if he's still hard. he would much rather jerk himself off if needed rather than seeing you in pain.

not particularly kinky, rather he's a bit old-fashioned. so he's not into roleplay during sex, not into torture or pain, and definitely not into degradation. but his breeding kink is intense. dokyeom's fantasised about having a family from a very early age, and now he's found his perfect partner, he absolutely goes wild about it. (he tracks your ovulation period with you and tries to convince you every time to let him breed you full of cum whenever you fuck during that time. you tell him no but you let him fuck you without a condom those nights, taking the plan b pill afterwards without miss. after the high of the orgasm dies down, he curses himself for pushing you too hard and apologises for wanting to fuck you without a condom. who's gonna tell him the truth?)

BUT i think he's definitely into using toys to spice up things in the bedroom. also into filming your sexy time together. you do it more for him because he seems to LOVE it. he's out of town for a lot of time, so finding a video where you're pole dancing for him has him giggling, blushing, and nearly coming in his pants at the same time. when at home, he doesn't use a lot of toys except maybe a vibrator, but when he's away he asks you specifically to pick out certain toys to help yourself (and him too) to get through nights- like that time he bought a monster dildo for you and you filmed yourself riding it for almost an hour (it was so incredibly hot, seeing you babbling and drooling at the constant stretch but dokyeom got worried for a moment that you'll never like his cock after taking a bigger one. who's gonna tell him the truth?)

and it's the sex toys that bring out the switch in dokyeom. what's better than you riding him and pulling his hair towards your chest until he's sucking mindlessly at your tits as you milk him dry? you pinching his nipples using nipple clamps and  tying his hands back so that you can touch him and kiss him everywhere but he absolutely can't even touch you like he so wants to.

talking about tits: dokyeom is obsessed with them. he loves your entire body, but your boobs are the absolute cherry on top of the cake for him (pun not intended). he's just so happy that he has full access to your pretty breasts all the time- for him to kiss when waking up, for him to sleep on while napping, for him to tease with his ridiculously large tongue when he's in a particularly wild mood. he wants them all the time- video call sex? "baby show me your tits once please" and he cums as soon as you do. quickie? you're blowing his cock, and he's bending down to fondle your soft tits. mirror sex? his eyes are FIXATED at your tits. doggy style? he's groping your tits as his balls slam against your ass. morning cuddle? he makes you wear his softest t-shirts and nuzzles against your warm chest.

unsurprisingly, his love for your tits also enables a little bit of his submissiveness. he may or may not want to suck on your tits while you work on your laptop. he may or may not focus more on rubbing his spit on your tits instead of the film you both are supposed to be watching. he may or may not go cross-eyed watching your tits when you're on top of him, fucking yourself on his dick, during make-up sex (you're bouncing so harshly on him, he can't feel his legs anymore and he's completely at your mercy).

and he particularly loves to be taken care of whenever he's had a bad day and heard something negative about his looks or performances. (words are insufficient so you show him how manly he is, how handsome he is, how he's an all-rounder and how he's born for the stage. he worries he takes too much from you, and he's a burden. who's gonna tell him the truth?)

his biggest fetish perhaps is clothed sex. he LOVES dressing you up in beautiful clothes and lingerie. and there's something so exciting like unwrapping layers of you- each layer more mysterious and pretty than the previous. he loves the subtle sensualness of clothed making out- the way he can touch your thighs through a slit in the dress, the way you grind shamelessly on his dick when it's separated from your wet pussy by the soft cotton of his trackpants.

all in all, he's a 100% romantic partner through and through. which includes eye contact during sex, holding hands when he ruts into you and constant kisses and praise every second of the day, in and out of the bed. it goes both ways- he loves being praised too, all shy and soft, blushing whenever you call him sexy. (he tries to do that thing again and again, hoping he can be the sexiest man in your eyes but he thinks he's hoping for too much. who's going to tell him the truth?)

[bananasfosterparent]

The difference in AA is his soul being irreversibly gone. That is the point and this is what Larians writers have been hinting at and this is what irks people about AA. The oversexualisation and erasure of his trauma, effectively erasing him as a person. I know we're talking about a fictional character, but if we're gonna go off on the topic, saying something "doesn't matter" is just a cop-out. Astarion didn't need to be "fixed" to the point of emotional lobotomy.

I don't think it's wrong to like or prefer him, but I think it's valid to have opinion on the matter, much like you have yours.

I started to apologize for the length of this, but honestly, since you sent the message, I'm going to respond to every part of it. I'm not sorry for the rambling lol

"The difference in AA is his soul being irreversibly gone."

Okay, show me the quote/scene/dialog in-game where this canonly is said and confirmed? Where does it say the ritual will ever touch his soul or any part of the game talks about his literal soul?

And if by soul you mean the "lose who you are inside" as a metaphor, that's still a matter of opinion and not actually canonly what happens. Astarion is still himself. The "changes" in his personality are shifts to simply adjust to the company he is around. He's essentially code switching.

That is the point and this is what Larians writers have been hinting at and this is what irks people about AA.

Got it. So the point of Astarion's romance is for Larian to write a singular story that has one ending you're "supposed" to enjoy with a "morally good" conclusion, and one ending that's fun and sexy, but "supposed" to be a cautionary warning of how things "shouldn't go". Because that makes sense for a "choose your own adventure" game and that's why the romance stops with AA as soon as you ascend him, and he enslaves and compels your character and you can't continue the romance with him--OH WAIT.

The oversexualisation and erasure of his trauma, effectively erasing him as a person

"The oversexualization".... So you know my Tav's personal motivations and why she chose to ascend him? And you're confident you know I made the roleplay decisions I made because you know it centers entirely and solely around it being to sexualize him?

Interesting.

Because that couldn't be further from the truth. My Tav has an entire story for why she chose to ascend him and it has nothing to do with how sexy it makes him. And it was a story I came up with well before I knew about any of this "sexualization" concept. And as a player, I didn't ascend him because I wanted a sexy vampire. I went into his romance blind and had no idea what would happen when I did it. I ascended him because it narratively made sense for my character and their relationship. But even then, if I wanted a sexy vampire, why is that a bad thing? He's not real.

And I find it so ironic that a lot of spawn fans who are anti-AA only enjoy AA for the sexual parts of that ending. Yet, we're the ones "oversexualizing" him lol

As for "erasure of his trauma"... where do I even start? What does that even mean? lol I'm not gonna lie. You sound young or unaware, but believe it or not, in real life there is more than one way to deal with trauma. And dealing with it in a way you don't agree with doesn't erase the trauma or mean the person is pretending it never happened. Ascended Astarion very much addresses his trauma and exercises a different form of healing.

In a fantasy world, you can actually explore those other options and have the outcome work FOR you, even if it wouldn't in real life. Accepting your fate and trying to align yourself with "morally good" choices is certainly not a bad thing and one way to go. In real life, that's what I agree with, as a Christian and believer in Christ. But Faerun doesn't have a Jesus. They don't have the same real world ideas of morals. They have their own gods, their own history, their own moral perspective outside of our world. Bringing in (your perspective of) our real world morals is a valid way to roleplay, but it's not the "only correct" way to roleplay.

There is the route of overthrowing what was meant to control and destroy you, and taking control of it yourself. Taking what was meant to be against you and making it work for you instead. For me, that's what Astarion's ascension means.

A smaller example of this is if you give Astarion Gandrel's crossbrow to use.

This weapon was designed to work against vampire spawn. It allows for its user to possibly inflict Turn Undead on enemies and gives them advantage in a fight against monster types. And yet, Astarion can wield it and use it effectively. He can take what was created to hurt and destroy him and use it to work for him.

Ascension can be the exact same thing. It's not a matter of which opinion of ascension is morally right. It's a matter of which decision on ascension is right for your Tav and their story with Astarion.

...saying something "doesn't matter" is just a cop-out.

Can you show me where I said "something" "doesn't matter"? Cause it wasn't in any of my recent posts. Are you referring to one of my older ones?

Not only do I not know what part of what post you're referring to, BUT I also don't know what I was talking about, if I even said "something" doesn't matter. I don't know what that "something" is.

Astarion didn't need to be "fixed" to the point of emotional lobotomy.

I'm glad we agree on something. I've seen people claim ascension is "fixing" him (because it eliminates the negative traits of vampirism) and therefore it's weird to call anti-AA spawn fans "fixers". But the difference is trying to change(fix) his morals and view of the world to reflect a "good" worldview (the spawn ending) VS trying to change (fix) his circumstances and lack of control (helping his ascend).

AA fans do not want to change his personality or his mental/emotional state. We want to change his circumstances so that he has a place to be able to make those decisions on his own. And for most of us, Ascension provides that perspective.

Spawn fans want the same thing. But the approach is more to convince him from the inside out that he can make those decisions without ascension. And that's also true. But not more valid or the only way.

But his personality does not change in either ending. In one (spawn ending), he is able to find freedom in just being free of Cazedor and exist the way he always has with a newfound confidence and peace.

In another, he is able to find freedom in taking the helm himself, and holding all the cards to be the one on top. He finds confidence in having the power and being able to wield it, without fear of anything he's had to fear with the negatives of vampirism.

But in both, he is still the same person. He still gets joy out of the same things (killing people, having/causing/observing bloodshed, and causing some chaos), he still has the same personality. The difference is in his circumstances and how he presents himself.

I don't think it's wrong to like or prefer him, but I think it's valid to have opinion on the matter, much like you have yours.

You don't mean that. Because if you did, you wouldn't have a reason to send this anon message in the first place. You wouldn't care enough. It wouldn't matter. You wouldn't have this opinion. You would be able to see value in both endings and respect the positive perspective of ascension even if you don't understand it, without arguing headcanon points like "his soul is irreversibly gone".

Your entire message is literally you trying to tell me it's wrong to like him and that the opinion I have of him is invalid and wrong. I already respect your opinion on both sides of him. Because it's your right to how you roleplay and see him. If you respect mine, you're doing a really awful job at showing it.

Regardless, if that is your intention or not. That's what sending this message says. If you really want to say you respect AA fans for enjoying AA, then stop sending AA fans messages like this and either completely avoid AA and the fans or refrain from trying to argue against it. We can discuss it and not agree while also respecting each other's roleplay choices.

This is not a wrong vs right conversation. It's a "what's your preference?" conversation. Spawn vs Ascended should be like "what's your favorite Pokemon type?"

The sooner that is realized, the better off this fandom will be.