#all ages are mixed for the first day as it's more of a presentation day

[roturo]

`· . ౨ৎ OTAKU HOT GIRL !

౨ৎ summary: “I like a tall woman with a nice big ass, haha.” Shocked faces turned to the pink-haired boy, not expecting such blunt honesty. “Just sayin’.”

Out of sheer curiosity, Todo leaned in, a mischievous grin on his face. “Got an example?”

WARNINGS: smut, male masturbation, lewd language and thoughts, overstimulation, sub-ish!yuji itadori, semi-public, use of pet names (puppy & ma'am) aged-up characters, whimpering, obsessed!yuji itadori, reader is mentioned like a person with big ass and tall, and lmk if i missed smth!

౨ৎ a/n: guess who's back baby! i listened to megan's new song and couldn't resist writing for my golden boy after hearing his voice omfg... 🫠i'm still a lil rusty and this might be short (1.4k words) but owmawgawd, this got meee

“I like a tall woman with a nice big ass, haha.” Shocked faces turned to the pink-haired boy, not expecting such blunt honesty. “Just sayin’.”

Out of sheer curiosity, Todo leaned in, a mischievous grin on his face. “Got an example?” The room filled with mixed reactions, some intrigued and others apprehensive. They were already tired of his daily talk about Jennifer Lawrence. Who could he possibly like more than her?

The boy smirked, leaning back casually. “Like the new grade one sorcerer from Kyoto, [Y/N] [L/N]...”

A collective gasp echoed through the room. Everyone knew about you, the formidable new sorcerer who had quickly risen through the ranks. But hearing that someone admired you in that way was a revelation.

He flashed back to the first time he met you. The memory was vivid. It was during a joint training session between the Tokyo and Kyoto schools. You had walked in with an air of confidence that immediately caught his attention. Tall, strong, and undeniably sexy, you had an aura that made it impossible for him to look away.

From the moment you started sparring, he was entranced. Every move you made was precise, powerful, and graceful. He could barely focus on his own training, his eyes constantly drifting towards you. When you finally spoke to him, your voice was low and sultry, asking for a sparring match. He was so flustered that all he could manage was a shaky “yes ma’am,” despite you being the same age.

The sparring match was intense, the air thick with tension. He gave it his all, but you were relentless. Each of your strikes was met with awe and admiration. By the end, he was exhausted and utterly defeated, but he didn’t mind. He was too impressed by your skill and the way your body moved.

After that day, you became a frequent topic of his thoughts. He admired not just your beauty, but your fierce dedication and prowess as a sorcerer. Every time he saw you, he couldn’t help but be reminded of how captivated he was by you. His fantasies about you became more vivid, more intense, fueled by the memory of your close combat and the way your body pressed against his.

“So yeah,” he continued, snapping back to the present. “That’s my type.”

The room fell silent, the other boys processing his words. Some were still shocked, others nodded in understanding like Panda and Todo. It was clear that his admiration for you went beyond mere physical attraction. It was rooted in genuine respect and a desire that bordered on obsession.

You and he had been talking for a few months now, and his clear attraction to you only grew stronger with each passing day. Your casual conversations and shared laughter were becoming the highlight of his days. Sometimes, during joint training sessions between the two schools, he found it increasingly difficult to focus. His eyes would wander towards you, watching the way your body moved with precision and strength. The mere sight of you was enough to send a surge of desire through him, making it impossible to concentrate. On more than one occasion, he had to leave the training area, his cheeks flushed and a raging erection straining against his pants. The frustration was palpable, but he couldn’t help it. You had a hold on him that was both thrilling and torturous.

He had to leave training again just to find some privacy in the restroom, where he urgently pleasured himself through his pants, softly moaning your name. The need had become insatiable, every thought consumed by the image of you—your intoxicating smile, the curve of your hips, and the way your hair cascaded over your shoulders.

In the quiet sanctuary of the restroom, he leaned against the cool tiles, his breath hitching with each stroke. With trembling hands, he hastily undid his pants, revealing his throbbing cock already slick with anticipation. His mind replayed every encounter with you, from the shared glances to the moments when your eyes held a tantalizing promise.

Despite the overwhelming sensation after coming once, he couldn't resist the need to relieve himself. His hand moved almost mechanically over his throbbing cock, slick with his own essence. The thought of your touch, your fingers wrapped around him instead of his own, consumed him. He imagined how much better it would feel, how your soft, skilled hands would bring him to the brink and beyond.

As his hand wrapped around his pulsating shaft, he couldn't suppress a low groan. The touch was electric, sending waves of pleasure through him. Starting slow, he savored every sensation, but the ache only intensified. Each stroke brought him closer to the edge, his fantasies blending seamlessly with reality in a haze of desire.

Soft, needy moans escaped his lips, mingling with the sound of his rapid breaths. He imagined your touch—delicate yet commanding, expertly teasing him to the brink. His cock twitched at the thought, pre-cum slickening his fingers as he quickened his pace.

Lost in the moment, he couldn't help but fantasize about how your lips would feel against his skin, your hands exploring every inch of him with a hunger that matched his own. The idea of you taking control, guiding him with a firm touch, made him shudder with anticipation.

His movements grew more urgent, chasing that elusive release. He could almost feel you there with him, your presence palpable in the confined space. With a guttural moan, he finally spilled over the edge, his release pulsing through him in powerful waves. He rode the wave of pleasure, his body trembling as he emptied himself, gasping for breath.

But even as he came for second time, his body continued to react, hypersensitive to every touch. He overstimulated himself, prolonging the pleasure and pushing himself to the brink of overwhelming sensation. Despite the intensity, he couldn't stop, his hand moving almost mechanically, seeking that final, blissful release.

As he leaned against the cool tiles, spent and still trembling, he couldn't shake the lingering desire for more. The fantasy of you lingered in his mind, fueling a hunger that would not easily be sated. He knew that the next time he saw you, every glance, every word exchanged would hold a newfound intensity, a longing that burned deeper than ever before.

Curiosity got the best of you as you entered the restroom in search of Yuuji, wondering why he had abruptly left practice. It had been unlike him to disappear without a word, and you couldn’t shake the concern that something might be wrong. Pushing open the door, you were met with the unexpected sight of him sprawled on the cool, tiled floor. His pants were pooled around his ankles, and his toned abs and hands were slick and glistening with his own release. Despite the aftermath, his cock stood proudly erect, a conflicted expression etched on Yuuji's face as he stared at it, small whimpers escaping his lips in his desperate quest for release once more.

The air in the restroom was heavy with the musky scent of arousal, adding to the charged atmosphere. Yuuji’s eyes, normally vibrant with energy and mischief, now held a mix of embarrassment and raw need. He looked up at you, his gaze pleading silently for understanding and perhaps even assistance.

You stood frozen for a moment, unsure of what to do or say. His vulnerability in this moment was palpable, and you found yourself drawn to him despite the unexpectedness of the situation. Slowly, you approached him, the click of your shoes against the tile echoing softly in the silence. As you knelt beside him, you could feel the heat radiating from his body, his skin flushed with desire and frustration.

He whispered your name, thinking all of this was a dream– Tentatively, your hand trailed down his chest, fingers ghosting over the slick, sensitive skin. His breath hitched at your touch, a mix of anticipation and relief flooding his features. "Please," he begged, his voice strained with desire. "Poor puppy– leaving training just because hormones got the best of him." He whimpered at the pet name you used, your hand now gently caressing his balls, catching him off guard and eliciting a loud moan that made you quickly cover his mouth with your hand.

"Shh, puppy," you whispered, your tone teasing yet commanding. "We wouldn't want others to hear what a needy slut you are, would we?" His eyes widened, his breath coming in shallow gasps as he shook his head frantically.

"Good boy," you cooed, your touch firm yet reassuring, knowing exactly how to play him.

pt2?

[sttoru]

toji never celebrates his birthday and thus learned to treat it as any other regular day. well, until you came into the picture and did the unexpected.

☀︎｜tags. dom!toji fushiguro x female reader. smut mixed with fluff & sprinkle of angst. implied age gap (reader early 20’s, toji late 20’s /early 30’s) implied size difference, p in v -> unprotected, cowgirl position, toji actually being a soft dom kinda, praise mixed with tiny bit of degradation, slight corruption kink, dirty talk / teasing, biting, creampie, reader gets called ‘princess, little girl \\ pretty, innocent, small'. not beta read. happy bday hubby!

“i told ya — fuck jus’ like that — not to buy or do anythin’ for me on m’birthday.” toji’s head lolls back against the pillow while his rough palms explore every inch of your gorgeous body. the word ‘birthday’ rolls off his tongue in a bitter manner. the assassin never celebrates that dreadful day, as he calls it.

he’s never found it to be worth remembering. his family couldn’t care less about that day when he was a child, so why would he?

but, that changed when you came into his life. toji flinched when he heard a loud ‘pop!’ sound upon opening the front door to his apartment. he was used to those noises being one of danger and thus swiftly reached for the spare weapon in his pocket. . . only to notice you standing behind the door with a party popper and a homemade cake.

the older man froze in place for a good few seconds, though was quick to realise the situation and relax. after the initial shock died down, you excitedly dragged him off to the living room to show him the presents you bought.

toji's first reflex was to scold you for spending money on him. he had never gotten anything for his birthday—it was weird to finally receive something from someone who actually cares for him. it somehow made him feel guilty as well. was he worth spending money on?

toji’s impressed reactions when unwrapping the presents showed you exactly how foreign the moment was to him: he’s never opened any gifts before. that much was even more evident after witnessing his inexperience in peeling off the tape from the boxes.

eventually, after opening around seven gifts, toji got to unwrap his final present. the present which was you.

the way you innocently yet seductively whispered words of affection in his ears made his mind go blank. even if it were simple ‘i love you’s and ‘happy birthday’ wishes. the red dress you had on and how your figure looked in it made everything ten times more sexual to the assassin. anything after that was a complete blur. his body moved on its own and yours followed right after until you finally landed on top of him — riding him.

toji’s half-lidded eyes couldn’t get enough of the sight he's witnessing. maybe his birthday wasn't such a bad day after all; the loving memories you're currently creating would surely outbalance the negative ones.

you shake your head at toji’s earlier sentence and tighten your grip on his shoulders, nails lightly digging into his skin and leaving faint red marks. you almost can’t talk due to the overexertion—your hips continuously rising and falling back down for the sake of your lover, “i- mph, wanted to get you all those things. you deserve them, toji.”

the view of your small body trying its hardest to not give in to its need of an orgasm made the assassin dizzy. his large hands settle on your waist and his eyes watch your every move from behind his black bangs. toji silently hisses as he feels your tight cunt clenching around him, “. . . f-shit. easy there.”

your pretty face is his weakness. especially when your usual innocent look gets replaced by one filled with carnal desire. toji can easily get off to the idea of him having that effect on you—his words, body, looks and actions that corrupted your every being in intimate moments like these.

“such a sweet thing,” the dark-haired man coos, brushing the stray locks of hair away from your face with his index finger. his other hand rubs up and down your inner thigh, each time getting dangerously closer to your clit, though never getting a single touch in. the scarred corner of his lips twitch in an amused grin at your whines, “oh? want me to touch you there, princess? that what ya want?”

you nod without a second thought. you were trying your best to hold out for as long as your body allowed it — desperately wanting to reach your climax at the same time toji was going to — but the idea seems impossible the longer this continued.

your boyfriend grins smugly, raising his eyebrows before entirely removing his hands from your body. his arms rest behind his head as he reverts to simply enjoying the view of you riding him so well. toji can never not be mean to you. your little pouts only drive him to tease you more and more, “hm, well, ya see - i thought you were gonna spoil me today, not the other way around.”

“t-toji! tha's mean. . .” you huff, bottom lip trembling. your arms circle his neck and your upper body leans forward to rest against his chiseled chest. you stop your hip thrusts and instead grind against his pelvis, trying to stimulate your clit on your own.

toji clicks his tongue, but figured it was best to leave you be. he didn't want to be too rough on you today - you had been nothing but sweet to him the entire night. you had blessed him with his first, proper birthday experience as well.

“aww, my little girl ‘s pouting,” the older man snickers and his hands return to their place. he allows you to grind against him, the sensations being amazing for him as well. the tip of his cock almost reaches your cervix from the current angle and your bodily fluids smear all over his thighs and lower abdomen, “shh shh, ‘tis alright.”

your needy whines and moans are music to his ears. toji rubs your lower back and pats your ass every now and then, squeezing the soft flesh gently just to hear another whimper spill from your lips. there was no way you could hold back now. especially when your bodies were rubbing together and you could feel toji’s defined abs and hardened muscles underneath you.

“toji - nngh - can i? wan' — wanna cum.” your small hands tighten their grip around his broad shoulders. you earn a low, breathy chuckle from your lover. the increasing sensations in his lower stomach were an indication to how close he was to his orgasm as well. he wasn’t going to deny you any further.

toji sighs in content and presses a soft kiss to your temple, thumb rubbing your cheek gently. it was a rare occurence to see that vulnerable and affectionate look in his piercing green eyes. the little smile plastered on his face only added to the soft and intimate atmosphere.

. . . well, toji wouldn’t be toji if he wasn’t going to add catch you off guard in any way or form. your eyes widen and your body jolts forward as he suddenly starts putting work in—his hips ramming into yours from below, the skin-to-skin sounds resonating throughout the room once again. it was like the wind got knocked out of you for a good second, “fuck! w-wait, toji! tojitojitoji!”

the older man holds tightly onto you — cradling you in his arms as he lightly lifts your hips to have free reign over the pace and movements of your two bodies — thrusting up into you over and over. he lets out a series of small, silent groans as he feels his climax nearing;

“shit, yeah - ‘m gonna stuff this pussy of y’rs full, princess.” toji's callused fingers curl around your hip bones, using them as leverage to increase the intensity of his thrusts, “think you can take it all?”

you mewl and nod again and again. you’re on the brink of tears when the waves of pleasure reach their peak. your eyes roll back and your body convulses, legs shaking and squirming during those few seconds of pure bliss. your adorable babble in the form of toji’s name was all your lover needed to push him over the edge—

“fuck. ‘m gonna cum,” toji groans and firmly bites your shoulder to hold back any more noises when he finally decided to let go. a choked sob leaves your lips the instant you feel the hot spurts of cum seeping into your senstive cunt. the older man continues to thrust in and out sloppily, riding out his orgasm and fucking his cum deeper into you at the same time, “so good — i love you s’much.”

you smile exhaustedly at the love confession from your boyfriend. toji’s grip on you loosens up after he completely emptied his balls deep inside your cunt, his jaw finally unclenching. he plants a few wet kisses along the bite marks on your shoulder in attempt to soothe the pain.

you catch your breath as you rest on top of toji's body. he didn't put the slightest effort into pulling out of you — even as a tiny puddle of your mixed juices stains his skin.

“i love you too, toji,” you reply and earn another lazy kiss to your forehead. he rubs the back of your head and massages your plush thighs in a tender manner. nothing could make this moment even more perfect, you thought to yourself.

you smile as you pull your head back to look into toji’s eyes. he was already looking at you — admiring your gorgeous looks as you basked in the afterglow of your lovemaking. you capture his lips in a delicate kiss, “happy birthday.”

[dduane]

PETER MORWOOD oh my godddddd i was trying to remember who the fuck it was with the good foccacia recipe and i was like. "he is friends with diane duane on tumblr and is also an author. i scrolled for ages looking and then god sick of it, opened the ask, and it popped right in. anyway thought it'd make you laugh to know that i remember peter morwood primarily through his foccacia recipe and being your tumblr buddy than for his life's works

(chortle) I suspect he won't think that's a hanging offense. (And tbh, most of his stuff isn't in print in North America at the moment. But we're working on that.)

Meanwhile, since Himself is presently asleep upstairs after a late night, here's the link to the recipe we've been using (it's on the Washington Post's recipe site). They in turn adapted theirs from one of the focaccia recipes here at the Bread In 5 website, which comes from the people who wrote Artisan Pizza and Flatbread in Five Minutes a Day.

(In case it's paywalled, I'll cut-and-paste it under the cut...)

Ingredients

4 cups (500 grams) unbleached all-purpose flour, plus more for dusting

1 1/2 cups plus 2 tablespoons (390 milliliters) lukewarm water

6 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil, divided

1 tablespoon (11 grams) granulated sugar

1 1/2 teaspoons (4 to 5 grams) dried instant yeast (not rapid rise)

1 1/8 teaspoons (16 grams) fine salt

2 teaspoons finely chopped fresh rosemary (from 2 to 4 sprigs), divided

Coarse or flaky salt, for sprinkling

In a large (5- to 6-quart) bowl, use a wooden spoon to stir together the flour, water, 2 tablespoons of the oil, the sugar, yeast and fine salt until a rough dough forms. Transfer to a container with a lid, partially cover and let rest for about 2 hours on the counter. You can use the dough right away, or cover and refrigerate until needed; see Make ahead. (If you plan on refrigerating and have a lidded container large enough for mixing, you can assemble the dough in there and refrigerate it after the 2-hour rise on the counter. The dough is much easier to handle after being thoroughly chilled.)

Place a baking stone on the middle oven rack and preheat to 425 degrees. Pour 2 tablespoons of oil into a 9-inch cake pan and evenly coat the bottom of the pan.

Dust the surface of the refrigerated dough lightly with flour, then pull half of it off (about 1-pound/454-gram portion; the dusting makes this task easier, as the dough is sticky). Dust the half you are using with more flour and quickly shape it into a ball by stretching the surface of the dough around to the bottom on all four sides, rotating the ball a quarter-turn as you go.

Use your hands to flatten it into a 1/2-inch-thick round 6 to 7 inches in diameter. Place the dough top side down in the cake pan, moving it around a bit to coat with the oil. It will not fill to the edges of the pan. Turn the dough over, cover the pan with plastic wrap or a plate, and let the dough rest for 10 to 15 minutes.

Use your hands to gently push the dough to the edges of the cake pan. Sprinkle with half of the the rosemary and coarse or flaky salt, as needed.

Re-cover with plastic wrap or plate, and let the dough to rest and rise for 20 minutes.

Repeat with the second ball of dough, or store it to bake later.

Transfer the cake pan to the heated baking stone in the oven and bake for 20 to 25 minutes, or until the focaccia crust is medium brown and feels dry and firm on the surface. The baking time will vary depending on the focaccia’s thickness. (If baking both loaves at once, switch them from left to right and rotate from front to back halfway through to ensure even baking.)

Use a rounded knife to loosen the loaf from the edges of the pan, then transfer the focaccia to a cutting board. Cut into wedges and serve warm, or allow to cool completely.

Disclosure: ...Noting here that not one of these I've made has ever reached the "allow to cool completely" stage. Something always seems to... happen to them first. (Like Peter. Or me. Or both of us at once.) :)

[paarksunghoon]

idk how to req bcuz this is my first time but like heeseung w glasses (espc in xo chorus when he wears glasses w that fit 😋😮‍💨😫😫) makes me go insane like imagine riding him whilst he wears them or like face sitting idk tbh 😭😭

i think heeseung should let me ride him

***

It’s a little unfair how stupidly hot Heeseung is. It’s especially unfair how he looks even hotter with glasses on.

His shipment of contacts is delayed by a week and Heeseung has been wearing his specs for a few days now. It’s like second nature to him even though he isn’t totally blind without them. The rims frame his face in a way that makes you feel so hot and bothered, your legs wobbling every time he approaches you with them on.

It’s worse when he wears things that make him look like the kind of losers you see in 2000s coming of age films: baggy pants and oversized shirts. The stripes and patterns he mixed and matches work a little too well on him.

You can’t hide your attraction to him in glasses much longer, especially when he’s walking out of the shower with a towel sitting at his lips and semi-foggy glasses on. It’s so unfair.

“Baby?” Heeseung asks when you’re pushing your lips against his with your hand pressed against his toned abdomen. His voice is cut off by your lips, making him mumble right against your mouth. “What’s gotten into you?”

You don’t answer him right away. Your fingers tug at his towel and pull him onto the couch until you’re pushing him down hard enough for him to nearly yelp. Heeseung looks up at you perplexed and aroused at the same time. He isn’t used to you being as forward as you are not but fuck. His dick is starting to get hard.

Heeseung tries to ask if you’re okay but he silences himself when you strip from your tank top and push your shorts down your legs. He gulps when his eyes land on the small number preventing him from seeing all of you, his cock starting to spring to life when you finally pull them down.

He can’t get another word out when you open his towel and push it beside him, presenting you with his semi-hard dick. Your mouth waters at the sight but your eyes come back to Heeseung just a second later. He looks up at you with doe eyes, completely clueless as to what’s gotten you to act this way.

You like this new dynamic. Catching Heeseung off guard is hard to do but you feel like you’ve accomplished the impossible.

His throat bobbles when you throw your legs over his lap and sit on him. Heeseung feels your wet pussy on top of his cock and relishes in the way you start to grind against him. You watch him look up at you in those frames and it’s hard to stay away.

“You’re so hot with those glasses on,” you moan through a breathy voice. “Makes me wanna fuck you.”

“Oh yeah, baby?” Heeseung smiles at you, hands moving to your hips while you grind yourself against him. “You like seeing me with these on?”

You answer him with a kiss. He lets you slip his tongue in his mouth and you press the wet muscle against his own. It makes you gush even more and the feeling of his soft cock starting to become harder than a rock makes you moan right into him.

He pushes your hip faster against his lap while you press your mouth against him hard. It has you both moaning and the sound of his voice urges you to move with him. You feel the way his dick is sitting right between your folds, the tip hitting your clit if you angle yourself right.

Looking down at him makes you feel like you’ve got some power. He looks up at you so happy, almost like he’s proud of you for being dominant tonight.

The two of you moan loud enough when his tip breaches your hole. He sinks right in one go.

“I love it when you do that,” he moans breathlessly, pushing up against you until every part of him is sheathed in your warm hole. “Turns me on when you don’t use your hands.”

“Shitshitshit,” you croak. He relinquishes his thighs and holds you with his arms. “I wanna make you cum.”

“Is that right?” He kisses your lips. “Can you make me cum? Can you please make me cum?”

Something about the way he asks makes you feel like you’re close already. You’re too horny to realize he’s teasing you for being so needy, but Heeseung doesn’t mind begging for you when you get like this. In fact, he loves it when you’re too lost in your own pleasure to care about that.

You life yourself up and down so fast that you’re sure your calves will be tired in the morning. The way Heeseung looks up at you is so hot. He’s wide eyed and his mouth curved up in a proud smile. His cock is splitting you right open and the pace you set is relentless.

It doesn’t take long for Heeseung to cum either. He shoots thick ropes inside of you until it trips down his dick and onto his balls. The added lubricant makes the glides that much easier and you find yourself finishing right when you feel his cum inside of you.

It’s just that both of you are too horny to realize he’s not wearing a condom. But it doesn’t matter anyway. You’d gladly let Heeseung fuck you without that pathetic piece of rubber keeping you from true pleasure if he wears his glasses more often.

[barblaz-arts]

I've come back to drop some Next Gen Nevermore lore, this time about Sora and Regine's parents 💕

Yukiko Toriyama

Because of my love for parallels, she's a doctor to match the adult characters in the show (Principal - Weems/Bianca; Sheriff - Galpin/Walker). She's a surgeon though, not a therapist like Kinbott, but still a doctor!

Yukiko's around Wednesday and co's age, so she was also in Jericho High when they were in Nevermore. She has a huge respect for Outcasts, thinking that they are very cool. In fact, she thought this one siren girl that she first saw during Outreach Day was especially cool. Soon she will find out that her name is Bianca Barclay and that her classmate Lucas Walker will end up dating her.

She met Sora's father some time after graduating from high school. She fell for his confidence, and was especially impressed that he was an Outcast. Unfortunately she realized too late that he's all talk. When she got pregnant with Sora, his rich parents essentially sent her hush money, which she accepted and used to pay for med school. Sora's grandparents helped raise her while Yukiko finished her studies, so she wasn't as present as she probably should have been during Sora's childhood. She tries her best though, really.

Hugo Schuyler

Sora's father. He came from a rich and reputable family of psychics that specialize in spirits, also known as Herons. Because of his family's reputation, he developed a huge ego and has delusions of grandeur.

He's a glutton for attention, a trait that Sora unfortunately inherited as she also always makes an effort to fit in with "the popular crowd" among her peers. However unlike Sora who is ashamed of her outcast status and prefers to hide her power, Hugo has a superiority complex and overcompensates for his weak psychic abilities by being obnoxiously loud about his outcast status and his family's name.

He ends up starting a YouTube channel as a paranormal investigator after Nevermore. When he finds out he has a daughter, he's quick to head over to Nevermore and rope Sora into his paranormal shenanigans. No, it doesn't end up being a cute father-daughter bonding activity.

He sees both Wednesday and Enid as rivals. Wednesday for her formidable psychic powers (and reputation!), Enid for, well, her more successful YouTube channel(which isn't even hers, it's the Wolf Preserve's). Wednesday does not remember him from their high school days though, and Enid purposely mixes him up with Xavier when addressing him.

Vega hates him because he thinks aliens don't exist.

Erica Gutierrez

(I don't have her design and personality fully conceptualized yet, sorry)

Erica is Eugene's ex-wife and is a famous actress who started out when she was a teenager. She used to be a celebrity crush of Eugene's when he was in Nevermore, and dating and marrying her was a dream come true that sadly didn't last.

Erica makes an effort to see Regine when she can, and she usually has her daughter stay with her throughout the summer. Her fame comes with its own cons, particularly the excessive attention she(and by extension her family) gets hugely contributing to Regine's overly reclusive personality.

Erica had nothing to do with Outcasts before meeting Eugene and is every bit of a Normie. She and Wednesday never liked each other. She gets along well with Enid because she thinks Enid is normal enough when she isn't wolfed out. Enid likes her for getting her Michelle Yeoh's autograph and a video message as a birthday gift once. (Wednesday hates that Eugene's ex wife of all people showed her up that year)

None of the Nevermore student knew Regine's mother was a celebrity until Erica decided to give her daughter a surprise visit during Family Day(coincidentally the same day Hugo goes to meet Sora. It was a long weekend for the girls)

(masterpost for my AUs here)

EDIT: I ALMOST FORGOT!

Partial credit to @whitebeltwriter for coming up with Yukiko's background with me. I no longer remember which parts were my idea and which is hers, but pls know that it was a collaborative effort

[hotdsworld]

"Beneath the mask" Neteyam Sully

Neteyam Sully x F!Reader

a/n: I advise to read warnings before going straight to the fic! Beautiful dividers from @cafekitsune

Summary: you never know what's hidden beneath the mask.

Word count: 3,2k

Warnings: 18+!, mentions of a murder, mentions of body injuries (not Reader), aged up Neteyam, stalking, noncon, oral (F receiving), piv, no protection, breeding kink, chase, knife play, body betrayal

Dead dove do not eat

You knew someone was watching you, but you didn't expect it to turn out like it did. They say people wear masks every single day, but you didn't expect the Ghostface mask to hide something so familiar.

The feeling of being watched was with you all the time, like a shadow always present and hard to ignore. You tried to convince yourself that it's just paranoia, but deep down, you knew there was more to it. Ever since the Ghostface killer appeared in the news for the first time your anxiety got worse.

You found yourself looking over your shoulder more often, double checking your locks and windows, getting worried over the smallest of sounds. The possibility of Ghostface targeting you was low, but how low? You didn't want to risk it. After all, why not you? You were innocent, and psychos like this loved the innocents the most. Something to prey on, to defile, to break… and weren't you the perfect target? A student living on her own in a shitty neighborhood.

Every day, you could feel someone's eyes on you but whenever you looked over your shoulder there was nothing. You wanted to go on with your life normally, you didn't want to go crazy and have people judge you. Your friends were very supportive, but you didn't think they would understand how scared you are every single day. Your best friend understand you perfectly well, but he was gone for a family trip so you had no one to talk to. He was different… not quite a human, but he understood you like no human could. Maybe Neteyam has more humanity in himself than others.

You were sitting at your Spider’s house, watching a movie of his choosing. It wasn't the best one, but you didn't complain. After all, he was the one that mattered right? Your compatibility and connection… but his focus was on the movie. Spider was really sweet and charming so you decided to give him a chance. You wanted something true and pure to happen to you and with Spider it felt like it might be it. You crossed your legs, trying to get into the plot too. Spider placed his hand on your thigh, caressing it a little. A gesture you welcomed, it's been a while and you're touch starved. Not even a minute after your phone rang, you smiled shyly.

“Sorry, I forgot to turn it off,” you looked at the screen, your eyebrows raising a bit upon seeing ‘unknown’. You picked up, looking around, it was a habit now. “Hello?” Usually, you don't pick up from numbers you do not know… but you had a feeling and you need to pick up from this one.

“Good evening, y/n” the voice on the other end was smooth, almost polite, but there was an underlying menace that sent chills down your spine. You looked at Spider, but he was too engrossed in his movie to notice your discomfort. How did the caller know your name? It must be one of your friends pranking you…

“Who is this?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady. After all, you are in a safe house with Spider not so far from the campus. You are going to be fine and no silly prank will change that. Nothing bad could happen here, right?

“You tell me,” a hint of a challenge in his voice. The caller was taunting you and somehow it was filling you up with anxiety.

“Well, I have no idea,” you sighed. It wasn't something funny to you. Prank calls are supposed to be funny but this is just unsettling.

“Do you like scary movies, y/n?” The question was casual, but it sent a chill down your spine. Why would he ask about something like this?

“Stop playing around, Lo’ak. I'm busy right now,” you snapped, your irritation mixing up with the fear.

“Busy? Watching? Or letting him touch you? You are better than that, y/n,” the worst taunted, dripping with disdain. But who did he despise? You? Or Spider? Your heart skipped a beat. Did Spider tell Lo'ak you were going to visit? Was the called really Lo’ak? What kind of a sick joke was that? “Not Lo’ak. Keep guessing.” You looked around the living room, suddenly feeling exposed and vulnerable. Now you didn't feel as safe as you did before.

“Who the hell is this?” you demanded, raising your voice in panic. Spider looked at you with concern. But that only made the caller chuckle, he was mocking you.

“Let's just say. I'm so much closer than you realize, in every meaning of this sentence,” there was a sinister edge to his words that made your blood run cold. Without another word, you hung up, your hands trembling. You couldn't handle any more of this twisted prank. Spider paused the movie, he approached you with a worried expression.

“Are you okay? What was that anyway?” He rubbed your back, to comfort you a little. Spider suspected it was a stupid joke but seeing you so scared moved him a little.

“A prank call. It was just very weird,” you let Spider lead you back to the couch. You clung to him, calming down a little. His arm around your shoulders, giving you a sense of safety. You were feeling better, but you couldn't shake off the feeling of being watched… as always. Spider held you close, his presence reassuring.

“It's just a prank, don't let it get to you,” he sighed. You nodded, trying to believe his words. On the other hand, the voice on the phone felt too real, too menacing… and the way he knew about Spider. Your phone kept calling, filling you with worry. “You want me to get it?” Spider offered. He had no problem with handling a stupid teenager or a creep.

“No, I'll do it,” you tried to sound braver than you felt. You answered the call again, feeling better with Spider close to you.

“Don't hang up on me again,” the caller hissed. His voice dripping with menace and for a second you thought, what if you are talking to the actual devil? There was ringing upstairs.

“Shit, my phone. I will be back,” Spider patted your shoulder before running upstairs. You sighed, realizing you are alone again.

“What do you want? I don't find this funny anymore,” you were scared of course… but you were angry. Who could ruin your date like this? Your mood and wellbeing? Who does that to another human being? The caller was silent, you weren't even sure if he's still there. “Hello?” No answer… you hung up, shaking your head in disbelief. “Do you need help finding your phone?” You call out to Spider. He always loses his phone so it wasn't a surprise it was taking him longer. Spider didn't respond so you walked upstairs. “Have you found it?” You scan every single room with no success until you reach his bedroom. Your phone fell out of your hand as you gasped in terror.

Your date was gut open like a fucking animal. Spider's body was lying down mutilated, his insides spilling out. You looked away feeling as if you were going to throw up. It was disgusting and terrifying. But not as terrifying as the realization that you are here alone, with the predator who most likely wanted to give you the same treatment. You realized just now it was the Ghostface… You ran out of the house, feeling terrible about leaving Spider's body here but you refused to just give up. You sprinted into the woods. In the house, he would catch you for sure, but here? Here, you had a chance to fight and it was all that mattered.

“Running won't save you, pretty girl.” His voice echoed through the trees, taunting you. You glanced over your shoulder, your eyes widening upon noticing the figure in black robes and a ghostface mask walking calmly after you. He was close… to close. You pushed yourself harder, even though you couldn't breathe, even though your heart hurt. “You are just making it even more fun for me. You can't hide from me, I know you too well. I am everywhere,” his voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. You have never been so scared, but you forced yourself to stay focused. You stumbled over a root, quickly gathering yourself and continuing the run. Every step was a struggle, your heart beating quickly as if it wanted to jump out of your chest… but you couldn't stop. Not now. “Is this the best you can do? I thought you were smarter than this,” he taunts. You ignored him, struggling to breathe. You could hear his steps, urgent yet patient. You zigzagged through the trees, hoping to lose him, but he was always there… right behind you. There was silence… you kept pushing forward until you dared to look back.

“Where are you?” You whispered, frantically looking around. He was gone. Ghostface lost you… You closed your eyes, trying to breathe normally again. Just then a hand clamped over your mouth, stifling your scream. Another hand pulled you closer by your waist from behind, against a solid chest. You kicked, trying to break free but it was futile. There was no escaping his grip.

“Shhhh, sshhh, shhh. Did you really think you could escape me, little bunny?” he whispered into your ear, his breath hot against your skin. You thrashed harder, your heart pounding in your chest. “Don't worry. I will take care of such a pretty bunny like you,” he pinned you against the tree, getting rid of the pretty dress you were wearing. “All dressed up? What a shame he won't see this,” he cut through the fabric of your clothes with a sharp knife, causing you to tremble. You were vulnerable, defenseless, cornered like a prey… like a bunny.

“Get away! Get away!” Your screams stifled. You were no match for him, he was much stronger… yet you didn't wish to give up. Once Ghostface got you completely naked, he pushed you on the ground on your back. You hated him for what he did, was doing, and what he is going to do. Why then deep down there's a hint of excitement? You were disgusted. The huge palm over your mouth prevents you from screaming, no matter how hard you bite into it. Ghostface pushed your legs forward, revealing your pussy to him.

“And you are so innocent… I don't think innocent little bunnies get wet for killers.” As much as you did want to argue, his hand prevented you from doing so. You kicked and pushed with no success yet. Ghostface tilted your chin up, as he didn't want you to catch the glimpse of his skin as he raised the mask a little, just so his lips could connect with your pussy. He hummed, enjoying how wet you already were. It turned you on more than he expected. “So fucking tasty,” he moans into your pussy, enjoying it like one of the greatest meals he had ever gotten to try. You held back every single sound that wanted to escape your lips. You didn't want to enjoy it, you wanted to be disgusted and furious. You weren't supposed to enjoy it… you bit on his hand hard as he focused on sucking on your clit. You wanted to push his head away, but it was like he was made of stone. Nothing could move him. “Stop whining. I am a gentleman who prepares you, if I was an asshole I would have you suck me off, no? Be a good little bunny and enjoy,” he suckled, eating you out sloppily. You wanted to ignore the pleasure building up in your stomach… you really did, but it felt as if your body was betraying you… for him. Ghostface was eating your pussy like he waited for it his whole life. It was disturbing. You had no idea who it was, you wanted to run away and never go back… yet your body was reacting to him. “Come on, bunny. Cum for your new master. Show how happy you are to be owned by me,” he mumbled against your pussy, mixing the techniques to make you feel as good as he possibly can. He wasn't a monster… he will pleasure you a bit before completely destroying you. You held back and you wished you did that for longer, but you came undone under his experienced mouth. You took a deep breath, struggling again which only seemed to amuse Ghostface more. “Bunny already trying to run away? Not even going to please your master?” He easily manhandled you into a doggy position, pushing your head down to the ground as your ass remained up. You wanted to crawl away, anything to escape his grip but you were too weak. Ghostface got behind you easily, his cock rubbing against your wet folds. He put his knife against your neck, not eager to play any games now.

“No, no, no, no,” you could already tell it was huge, the thought made you both excited and terrified. How could you explain this? How come you were finding this exciting? Ghostface didn't let you wonder for too long, pushing himself inside you once his cock was coated in your wetness.

“Fuck, bunny. You are so tight. Such a perfect toy for me… Once I saw you with Spider I need my plan needs to happen faster.” You yelped, gripping the ground underneath you desperately. It felt as if he was ripping you apart. Your eyes filled up with tears as you bit your lip hard. Ghostface gave you some time to adjust, knowing that he's so much bigger than average men. His fingers caressing your clit gently, trying to get you even wetter so it goes smoothly. You were losing the strength to fight… Why fight? He was already doing as he wished, and your body didn't seem to complain much. Getting stretched out by that thick cock of his, your walls were giving in quite easily. As if your body belonged to him. Ghostface began to move in and out of you slowly, enjoying the way your hungry pussy clung to him. Gradually, he was increasing the pace of his thrusts, feeling how easier it was becoming to move in and out of you. His fingers rubbing against your clit in circles. As his other hand traced all over your back with the blade, sending chills down your spine. The previous pain was mixing up with pleasure, and you couldn't hold back your sounds of pleasure anymore. You will hate yourself for that later but now, you enjoyed what he was doing to you and how he was making you feel. “Such a tight little bunny. Squeezing my cock so much. It's like your pussy wants me to stay here forever, no? So wet too… you're just a deranged slut who deems herself innocent, but do you feel this, bunny? How wet you are getting for a masked killer who chased you through the woods?” Ghostface gets rough, pressing on your lower back, causing your head to be pressed to the ground. His cock deep inside of you, you weren't sure it's possible for someone to reach so deep inside of you… “Dumb little bunny, you think you could escape this?” He taunts, taking pleasure in degrading you in such a way. You were a conflicted mess, brain filled with nothing but thoughts of how good his dick felt inside of you. You were getting close to the edge again, Ghostface could feel your walls clenching around his cock. “Is that slutty bunny going to cum for me again? Such an obedient little whore… but I want to see you cum,” he flipped you over onn your back, putting his weight on you. You whimpered needily, feeling empty after he pulled out for a moment. You were desperate to cum on his cock. Your pride, morals, and rules didn't matter now. All that mattered was his cock inside of you making you cum. Ghostface pushed back in, groaning as your pussy sucked him back in eagerly. You were truly perfect for him. His knife tracing around your collarbones, moving down to your breasts. Somehow, it was arousing. The cold blade against your warm skin, the danger.

“Please,” you whimpered, looking up at him. You weren't sure if you were asking for him to keep going or to stop. You just needed something. Ghostface decided for you, thrusting in and out of you at a punishing pace, his fingers playing with your needy clit. He intended to push you towards the edge… and then off of it. The blade against your neck, pressed a little harder than before. Ghostface didn't miss how it made you clench.

“Master's perfect bunny. That's right, don't think of anything. Dumb little bunnies like you don't need to think for themselves. Let your master think for you, bunny. You just need to enjoy what I'm giving you.” Normally, you would resist, you would say something back, but you were too damn close to orgasm to think. Your eyes rolling back with every deep thrust. His tip seems to hit your g-spot every single time. “Cum for your master. And when you do master's going to breed you, pump you full of my potent seed. I'm going to claim you, bunny. You are going to be mine and mine only,” he slowed down but the intensity of his moves increased. "Moan for your master, bunny"

“Such a pretty obedient slut for me. You are making your master proud, bunny. For that I'm going to cum inside. I will give you so many little bunnies,” he groans. His cock was twitching inside of you, signaling that he's close and of course, he had no intention of pulling out. He wanted to claim you as completely and utterly his. He wanted you to bear the evidence of what happened tonight in this forest. He wanted you to remember. Even though you were weak you forced yourself forward and you pulled the mask off, gasping as it revealed the handsome blue face you knew perfectly. Your fucking best friend. The epitome of innocence was murdering people with a knife. He was the one who stalked you the whole time, making you feel like you are paranoid. “Surprised? Silly bunny,” he took off the voice changing device. Neteyam pumped you full of his cum, keeping eye contact with you. He didn't seem ashamed or regretful, he seemed pretty proud of what he did. His beautiful eyes flashing with possessiveness and obsession. Neteyam was down bad for you. You didn't know if you should feel betrayed, depressed, or angry. That man was the epitome of innocence, how come he was behind every cruel thing that happened today? And not only… Ever since he met you, he knew you were going to be his. Neteyam isn't human, you couldn't possibly expect him to act like one. Every single day he made sure you were safe by observing you. You are such an adorable bunny, he needed to make sure no one's going to steal you. Neteyam

“Oh my gosh, oh fuck,” your body shook as the wave of pleasure washed over you again, moaning loudly. Ghostface kept going, fucking you through your high. You knew it shouldn't be happening. You should be devastated but somehow you enjoyed everything.

“It's going to be okay, little bunny. You are safe with me… forever” he planted a tender kiss on your forehead before offering you the black robes. You belonged to him now, his little bunny.

[shotoh]

— in which they slowly find themselves enamored by the natural charms of their interviewer

feat. itoshi rin, nagi seishiro, itoshi sae

cw + tw. nothing much just fluff, fem!reader, interviewer/reporter!reader, aged-up!characters, characters are professional athletes and continue playing in their teams from the neo egoist league (except sae)

notes. first time posting blue lock so apologies if anyone’s ooc, either way i might make a follow-up of this (that might be more uh ya know) and/or add characters

ITOSHI RIN

the sound that follows the harsh slam of his locker is a frustrating sigh that has been simmering in rin’s chest since the end of today’s match. the match in which he had lost—and at the hands of isagi’s team which makes the defeat all the more bitter and disgusting on his tongue. it didn’t help that during the game, he was butting heads with his supposed teammate, shidou. once the coach had decided to sub the eccentric player in, their styles began mixing like oil and water. as a result, their win was swooped up from under them.

pxg has been called to host a post-sport interview to review the match with reporters, but rin couldn’t care less to participate. instead, he’s the very last person to leave the locker rooms. his duffle bag is slung over his shoulder, steps ambling down the hallway.

whether he wins or loses, rin never bothers to attend these post-game interviews. he doesn’t need to sit there and have brash reporters shoot the same questions at him, expecting him to “thank his coach and teammates,” “praise his opponents for a great game today,” and say he’ll “continue to work hard to win next time.” gross. he’d rather be caught dead than have any of those words leave his mouth.

as rin navigates through the hallways of the stadium, he’s hoping to be done with the day and think over the turn of events on his own. but when he rounds the corner, he crosses eyes with someone so obviously lost in the facility—a mistake which punishes him as you immediately approach him with doe, bewildered eyes.

“sorry, i don’t mean to bother you, but i was wondering where the conference for pxg was being held,” you ask. a pad of notes are cradled in your arms, pen clipped to the breast pocket of your blazer. it’s clear you’re another reporter.

before he can point you in the right direction to get you out of his hair, you squint. you’re taking a long, hard look at him until your face suddenly glows. “wait, you’re itoshi rin, the striker for pxg!” you practically blurt. with the volume of your voice, rin’s instincts take hold, and he’s pulling you away from the open space of the hallway.

“quiet. you want everyone to hear?” rin chastises.

“whoops. i got a little excited! i-i’ve been wanting to interview pxg’s top player and well…” you could say the opportunity presented itself, but rin makes it clear he’s not interested.

“if you’re here just to hear me mope over my loss, then go home,” the striker affirms to what he thinks will be the last of this exchange until you tug on the sleeve of his jersey before he starts walking away. turning his head back to glance at you, his brow quirks.

“no, of course not! i thought it was incredible how you were able to keep control of the ball from your opponents and even score the first two points of the game all by yourself!” you exclaim, face lifting as it’s teeming with admiration. surprisingly, he can’t help but be a bit amused by the determined expression etched over the perplexed look that was originally on your features.

you swipe your pen hanging off your pocket, prompting it open with a click of your thumb. “and i’m sure a lot of your fans would love to hear from you!”

the athlete cocks his head. “you’re acting like a fan yourself, miss reporter.”

you blink in surprise. the enthusiasm in your words tones down, but you fail to mask it completely. “what? no, i’m just here to get the exclusive on the best athletes of our country!” if your plan is to butter him up to get a word out of him, it may almost work. you send him another fawning look as if to say “can you blame me though?” and that stirs a low chuckle from his throat.

his face lowers until it’s slightly more leveled with your own, and from this angle, you’re amazed to find you can distinguish every distinct eyelash on his pretty face. and you’re even more enamored by the intense color of his teal eyes. at the proximity, however, your face bathes in the heat of the blood rushing to your cheeks. thankfully, the striker breaks eye contact in favor of taking the notepad from your arms, along with your pen which he uses to scribble something down.

“tell you what,” he says as he continues writing, “come to the next pxg match and i’ll give you an exclusive interview, right after i score at least four goals and decimate the other team.”

his declaration leaves you in awe, and your fascination persists when he hands your pen and pad back for you to see a ten digit number, followed by call my manager written next to it.

NAGI SEISHIRO

back when he was in school, nagi was never great at first impressions. and apparently that’s still the case even later on in his career as a professional striker.

he doesn’t even notice you enter the room as he’s preoccupied with tapping the controls for the first person shooter on his phone. as such, he’s woefully unprepared to hear the reluctant, but soft voice that vies for his attention.

“um, excuse me. if you don’t mind, i’d like to get started with the interview.”

taking a slow glimpse above his screen, he sees the refreshing sight of you—his interviewer—sitting across from him in your neat attire and a clipboard on your lap. surprised by the modest smile that greets him, he automatically straightens up and casts his phone to the side.

it’s a big contrast to what he was expecting. usually, scruffy men who claim they’re adept and knowledgeable in the sport would be shoving their mics in his face. when in reality those people are just washed up high school coaches or analysts who act all high and mighty by asking a bunch of nonsense questions. saying this and that about how they would have done it differently had they been in the game instead of him. regardless, they’re such a pain and nagi would rather be napping in his cloud mattress than go through another talk session with those wannabes. however, his encounter with you just might break this boring streak.

he rubs the back of his head sheepishly, playing off the crass first impression. “right. start whenever you want.”

once he gives you the go ahead, you flip through a few pages to your questions.

as time goes on, the sentiment nagi initially held about how the interview might have been a pain and a waste of his time in his already packed schedule begins to sway. throughout the inquiries, he finds himself fixated on you. like the flattering nude color touched up on your plush lips. or how you have a habit of playing with strands of your hair when contemplating on what question to ask next. or the cute laugh you let out that was pleasant to his ears when he gave a much more aloof answer than you were expecting.

well, he can’t change the fact that he doesn’t need to think much when it comes to football. that’s just how naturally talented he is—the sport is second nature to him. honestly, he’s a bit bummed out that he can’t give a competent interviewer like you better responses.

what catches the snowy haired striker slightly off-guard is your next topic of questions about his e-sport endorsements. he wasn’t expecting you to delve into his hobbies. most interviews always glossed over that area in favor of asking something along the lines of “what was going through your head when you made that winning goal,” to which he could only say he was too caught up in the moment to really convey the feelings into words.

but with this opportunity, nagi goes on a mild tangent about the new first person shooter he’s been playing. even if his tone sounds indifferent on the surface, you don’t miss the hidden enthusiasm under the brighter twinkle of his eyes. you giggle which makes nagi pause.

“did i say something weird?” he asks back. you swear you detect a tonal whine in his voice, another endearing trait you didn’t know a 190 cm striker could possess.

“no.. just find it cute how much you can talk about your favorite games like that.”

nagi can’t tell whether the grin on your pretty lips is there to tease him or that you find his boyish charms endearing. either way, his cheeks puff and that only serves to make him more adorable in your eyes.

“well don’t let me stop you! i’d like to hear more about what things interest you other than soccer.” the look on your face fascinates him. you’re not even looking at your clipboard anymore, but right at him. it’s the tell-tale sign of someone who genuinely wants to know him not as the star player of manshine city, but just as regular nagi seishiro. he’s not used to that sort of treatment and as a result, he can’t meet your eyes, not realizing he flushes a lovely shade of pink that reaches the tips of his ears.

nagi pouts, glancing down at his phone that’s been laying near his thigh, untouched for a record of what must be ages, but that honestly doesn’t feel long enough to him. “no fair… you’re just teasing me…” he murmurs, but his fingers are already itching to ask his manager if he can extend the interview to spend more time with you.

ITOSHI SAE

the first opportunity you get to interview the itoshi sae is unconventional, to say the least.

“excuse me! please let me through–!”

“miss, you can’t be here– hey!”

the setting is chaotic, to the point where sae can make out the commotion in the background as he’s walking toward his rest area with his manager and bodyguard following beside him. when he glimpses at what all the fuss is about, he witnesses security personnel wrangle with a stray reporter.

spotting the reddish haired athlete, you find an opportunity to call out to him. “itoshi sae, please, may i have a word with you?”

to your dismay, security persistently blocks your view of the midfielder. despite being obstructed by a pair of burly men almost twice your size, you give them more of a struggle as you thrash around, even reprimanding them to “keep their hands to themselves if they know what’s good for them.” sae can’t help but be amused. a part of him finds your efforts admirable—watching you scrunch up your uniform and crease your notes at just a chance to speak with him.

“mister itoshi is far too busy to entertain any more of you today. please make your way to the exit–”

“it’s fine,” sae interjects to everyone’s surprise—mostly to the utter astonishment of you and his manager. the latter’s eyes widen scrupulously before he cups his hand next to the pro athlete’s ear.

“sir, i believe we’ll be running late to your next scheduled event if you decide to do a last minute interview,” the manager warns warily. “besides, haven’t you talked to enough of the media today? i mean look at her, she doesn’t even seem worth your time–”

“push everything back thirty minutes if you have to.”

his manager gawks. “but..?!”

one side-eye of sae’s piercing ocean eyes is enough for the man to retract his statement and mumble his apologies. that said and done, the security guards withdraw to let you through. you’re astonished by how much the situation can flip with the cooperation of a renown professional.

sae’s staff lead you into his spacious break room, preparing a set of chairs and leaving glasses of water on the coffee table before you start. having already taken his seat, he watches you run your hands through the wrinkled material of your blouse and pencil skirt. after finally fixing your stray hairs in place, you sit in front of him in all your pristine as if the whole conflict from earlier never happened. he wants to give you another point for professionalism.

“once again, thank you so much for granting me the opportunity to speak to you today,” you beam, mocking his manager hovering in the background with your unbeknownst-to-sae sly little smile.

sae grins, charmed. you arrange your notes one last time before moving onto your questions.

during the interview, sae comes to know your professionalism isn’t merely for show. you’ve done your research, analyzed his plays—his techniques, and as a result, ask him the most intriguing inquiries he’s sure no reporters asked him before. and he’s had his fair share of interviews throughout his developing career as a child prodigy. it’s evident you weren’t planning to waste his time and he’s appreciative of that fact.

there’s also an air of zeal you possess that allures him. he can’t exactly pinpoint what it is. your ingenuity? your liveliness? either way, he can’t imagine this to be his last interaction with you, and he makes sure that won’t be the case.

at just a simple snap of his finger, his manager is at his side. you have to hold in a snicker at how the man scurries over to the midfielder like a dog.

the two exchange a few words you don’t catch, only deciphering the dumbfounded look on the manager’s face which clashes with the stoic expression on sae’s. whatever the conversation was about, the former knows it’s a losing battle. at his loss, he pulls out a lanyard from the compartment attached to his clipboard. he gives it to sae, who takes it and leans across the space between you two to place it in your awaiting hands, as if you already knew from the manager’s defeated mannerisms that it was meant to be yours.

“this is..?” you begin inquiring as you eye the card on the lanyard methodically.

sae beats you to your discovery of that answer. “an exclusive press pass, which you can use to reach out to me again following any matches i’ve played in.”

mouth hanging open, you switch back and forth between the pass and sae’s marine eyes which don’t hold a shred of doubt.

he puts it simply.

“i’d like to continue this interview with you again.”

copyright 2023 shotoh, all rights reserved. i do not allow my creations to be published or translated anywhere else so please do not repost this or share my content on tiktok.

[luxaofhesperides]

Soulmate AU: First Words + End of the World ; requested by @justwannabecat!

Duke has long since accepted that he doesn’t have great luck. Most things in his life tend to go wrong very quickly, or complicate situations he was already struggling in (see: being a meta and getting his powers in the middle of a fight). Having an incomprehensible soulmark is an unpleasant discovery on the morning of his nineteenth birthday, but not entirely unexpected.

He had been hoping for something simple, a common one like hi it’s nice to meet you or sorry, didn’t mean to bump into you.

What Duke gets instead isn’t even words. 

Scrawled across his left hipbone is a string of symbols glowing a faint green. They’re not in a language he recognizes, and the symbols seem to move, shifting ever so slightly so they look different every time he blinks.

“Well,” he says after a solid five minutes of staring into the mirror, unable to rip his eyes off his soulmate’s words, “I hope theirs looks nicer than mine.”

He spends his birthday in a bit of a daze, enjoying time spent with the Waynes and his friends. It’s hard to be fully present when he’s all too aware of the soreness on his hipbone flaring up each time he moves. It’s hard to keep his mind off of it, wanting nothing more than to search for answers, unravel the mystery of his soulmate’s first words.

“Something on your mind?” Jason asks, as the attention shifts off of him for a brief moment as Harper and Cullen get ready to leave and everyone rushes to give their goodbyes,

Duke shrugs, carefully keeping his hands still so they don’t drift to where his soulmark is hidden beneath his clothes. “Yeah. Nothing you need to worry about, though.”

Jason looks him over critically, then nods. 

Duke resigns himself to being investigated by the rest of the Bats. If he’s off enough that Jason had to comment on it, then that means everyone’s noticed and are trying to figure out what’s happened. They’re not going to ask him, because they think he needs space to work through whatever’s got him so distracted, but they’re also not going to just do nothing. 

This won’t be the first time they’ve done this. Duke expects it. Frankly, it would be stranger and much more concerning if they didn’t try to dig up all his secrets the moment they caught wind of him hiding something.

He’ll tell them about getting his soulmark soon. Soulmarks can appear on any birthday between the ages of thirteen to twenty five; they might suspect he got his, but they won’t be able to confirm.

For now, Duke can keep his soulmate’s first words (whatever that gibberish means) to himself.

He makes the decision then and there, as his birthday party winds down, to tell them in a week.

And because his luck is abysmal, a world ending threat hits five days later and suddenly there is no time for soulmarks and first words.

Duke is the last to arrive at the Fortress of Solitude, hitching a ride from Superboy to get there. The biting cold and the harsh winds keep the place far from the reaches of the rest of humanity, surrounded by nothing but deadly white. 

Desolate as the landscape is, it’s still in better shape than the rest of the world.

Things would be better if it was alien invaders. It would be more bearable if some sort of cosmic colossus tried to eat their solar system. At least then there would be something physical that they could fight.

Instead, the world is breaking apart, the sky and earth both fracturing to reveal glowing green faultlines. Timelines are getting mixed up and muddled; just yesterday, Duke had to evacuate a building that had been demolished forty years ago, then stop a gang leader who wouldn’t be born for another eight years from taking over a neighborhood block and holding the residents hostage. Strange creatures are appearing out of nowhere, crawling out of shadows and tide pools and from beneath the roots of trees, all horrible, monstrous things that go after people with teeth and claws. 

The Flashes and the rest of the speedsters are nowhere to be found. The last time anyone get communication from them, it had been Impulse sending Red Robin a glitchy, barely audible video chat saying something along the lines of “trying to fix—unstable—keep us here—never been alive before.” All things that are very concerning to hear, made worse by the fact that no one had been able to contact them at all. 

The quiet loneliness of the Fortress of Solitude is a welcome change from the constant screaming, death, and destruction that’s taken over Gotham as well as the rest of the world. Last he heard, even Justice League China was at the end of their rope. 

“In here,” Superboy instructs, guiding Duke through the halls. There’s no time to look around at Superman’s secret base. All his focus is stuck on staying conscious for another few hours to see if this gathering of heroes is able to find a solution to the world breaking apart.

Batman stands besides Superman. Both nod at Duke when he enters the room. Wonder Woman is watching over John Constantine as he writes something on the floor, muttering under his breath. The rest of the Justice League lean against each other, visibly exhausted as they wait for Constantine to finish up what he’s doing. A few other heroes are here too, and Duke goes to join them where they lean against a wall, fighting to keep their eyes open.

“Hey,” he greets, voice low. “Hanging in there?”

Wonder Girl sighs. “Somehow. I don’t know how much longer we can do this. There’s just too much…”

“We’ll get through this. I mean, even without us out there, plenty of civilians have formed rescue and relief groups to help with keeping things under control,” Speedy says, gently knocking her arm against Wonder Girl’s. “We just gotta keep going. No giving up.”

“What’s this plan, anyways? I just heard that they needed me here to some attempt to fix things.”

“Well, without the speedsters, you’re kind of the only one who can help with time and power related stuff,” Speedy says.

“That’s definitely a stretch. My powers don’t really have anything to do with time. It’s all just light and shadow.”

Speedy shrugs. “Well, you’re here, aren’t you? Too late to complain about it now.”

Duke doesn’t get a chance to say anything else when a loud clap catches his attention. The entire room goes still and silent as Constantine stands up and surveys the circle and symbols he’s written, taking up an entire corner of the large room. 

“Alright,” he says. “Time to get started. Remember, let me do the talking. If you have to speak, it’s only to back me up or when a question is directed to you.”

Batman nods to the other Justice Leaguers, and suddenly everyone is falling into formation behind Constantine. Duke hurries to join them with Wonder Girl and Speedy, taking a place on the edge of the group where he’s a little closer to the circle than the others. 

Constantine begins chanting. His voice is steady though none of the sounds make any sense, refusing to form themselves into recognizable words, and the air the in the room feels heavier. The chalk circle glows a blinding white and Duke can see magic swirling through the air, his power kicking in the let him watch as reality tears and a glowing star in the shape of a boy comes out of it.

Duke blinks, forcing his power down. The hypnotic swirls of magic fade from sight, but the boy still glows, bright and terrible as he floats above the circle and surveys them all. A crown engulfed in blue flame hovers above his head and the fabric of the cosmos is draped over his shoulders as a cape. 

Just from presence alone, Duke can tell that this figure is now the strongest existence in this universe. He hopes this boy king is kind; no one, not even Superman, would be able to beat him in a fight.

The boy king opens his mouth and speaks, but it’s not words than comes out. A strange static like sound emerges, but light and almost melodic. 

His left hipbone burns.

Duke gasps, hand flying down to it, and the boy king’s gaze snaps to meet his.

The world stands still. No one moves. No one dares to breathe.

And then the boy king drops to the floor and walks out of the circle.

“I thought you said that would hold him!” Batman hisses at Constantine, who is looking more and more distressed.

“It was supposed to! I wrote it specifically to hold the King of the Infinite Realms!”

The boy king glances at Constantine. This time, when he speaks, it’s in smooth English. “Did you name the king in your circle?”

“Yeah, I named Pariah Dark… Bloody hell, you ain’t him, are ya?”

“No,” the boy king smiles, “I’m Phantom.”

The cape and crown fade away, and suddenly it’s not an all powerful, terrifying king standing before them, but a young man with white hair and green eyes who looks Duke’s age. Like he could be any other new generation hero in the room. 

“Phantom,” Duke repeats lightly, just under his breath, but it makes Phantom look at him again.

He walks forward, ignoring the other heroes’ aborted attempts to stop him, coupled with Constantine’s frantic back off motion happening behind him. Phantom leaves the circle and the Justice Leaguers behind to stand before Duke, a soft smile on his face.

“Hi,” he says softly, “I dreamed of you.”

“You—what?”

“I dreamed of you. I have for years now. To think that being summoned was what made us meet—” Phantom breaks off into a breathless laugh.

Duke swallows, then drops his had from where it had been pressed against his hip. “So we’re really—? You have my first words too?”

In the corner of his eye, he sees Batman stiffen up. Maybe he should have just told them the day after his birthday, but in Duke’s defense, this is the definition of extenuation circumstances. 

“First words?” Phantom repeats, “Is that… Do we have different soulmate connections?”

“I think so. Here, everyone gets the first words their soulmates say to them appearing somewhere on their body.”

Phantom’s gaze darts down to Duke’s hip, then back up. “Oh. I get dreams. Where I’m from, we dream of our soulmates, and the closer we get to meeting them, the more we remember the dreams.”

“And you dreamed of me.”

“I did.”

“As touching as this is,” Constantine interrupts, and Duke gets to watch as Phantom rolls his eyes, “We summoned you here for a reason. Our world is falling apart at the seams and we need someone powerful, from the Realms, to help us fix it.”

“Okay.”

“...What do you mean ‘okay’?”

“I’ll help,” Phantom says.

“Just like that? No deal to be made, no price to be paid?”

“Just like that. I’m not one for deals anyways. If I can help, then I will. But I do want to see what the problem is with my soulmate by my side, if you don’t mind.”

Batman steps in, fixing Duke with a steady gaze, a barely noticeable tilt of his head. “Signal?”

“Yeah I’ll go with him. Of course I will. The sooner the better, in fact, because everything’s gone to shit.” Duke turns to Phantom, taking hold of one of his hands. “It is really bad out there,” he warns, “If you need help—”

“I’ll ask for help from others in the Realms,” Phantom says. “No offense or anything, but if it’s really that bad, I doubt living mortals will be able to do much to fix things. It’s why I was summoned, right?”

“Right. Let’s get to it, then.”

There’s a flash of mischief in Phantom’s eyes, and cheeky grin stealing across his face for a moment, before he says, “Aye aye, captain!” and picks Duke up like he weighs nothing and flies up through the ceiling.

Duke is able to hear everyone’s surprised, panicked shouts before they’re outside the Fortress of Solitude and Phantom is flying them away. He only needs a few directions from Duke before he finds the first of the large fractures in the sky.

“Yikes,” is all he says, which is not a great thing to hear. “I think I know how to fix it, though. We’ll need to do a little investigating as to who, exactly, started messing around with reality, but once we find the source, it’ll be an easy fix.”

“That’s the best news I’ve heard all week.”

“Even better than meeting your soulmate?”

“I haven’t slept for more than four hours all week. Knowing there’s an end in sight beats everything else.”

Phantom laughs, throwing his head back and Duke can’t help but drink in the sight of him, so ethereal and bright and full of life. “Fair enough! Got any ideas as to where we should start?”

“I’ve got an entire crew of detective vigilantes,” Duke replies. He’s not taking any more chances. No more waiting to talk about important things; he messed up by keeping his soulmark to himself, so he needs to make sure everyone meets his soulmate before shit goes south again. 

“Let’s go find them, then!”

They take off again, soaring through the skies that are barely holding themselves together. 

The world is still ending, and every hero is being stretched thin, but held carefully in Phantom’s arms, racing head first into a solution, Duke can’t help but feel that everything’s going to be alright now. 

He’s had enough bad luck. Now, his soulmate with him, bearing the title of King with grace, things are finally starting to look up.

[nihilityuniverse]

CREATOR | Genshin x FEM! Reader

In which, You, The Creator, descend onto Teyvat as a Human in disguise.

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MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

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ENG is not my First language

I do not own Genshin Impact or any of the pictures used.

Do NOT Repost

Also available on Wattpad: Chapter 1

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Long, long ago, even before humans existed, our beloved Creator walked upon the land they had formed, accompanied by dragons and living harmoniously with their creations. Their mere presence caused bountiful fruits and vegetables to grow, and with each step they took, golden flowers blossomed.

As time passed and the first mortals and gods emerged on Teyvat, the Creator ascended to a higher plane, beyond the understanding of mortals and gods. Yet, their gaze never left Teyvat, always watching over their creation.

But then, without warning, the tranquil and pure presence vanished into thin air. The following day, disaster erupted across Teyvat, accompanied by numerous cataclysms. All living beings were left bewildered, not knowing what offense they had committed to warrant such a punishment from their Creator. This tragic event became an indelible mark in Teyvat's history.

In the present day, tales of our Creator are rarely spoken, and only a few ancient scripts remain to remember them. It seems as though humans have forgotten and abandoned the Creator, the memory of their grace fading into obscurity.

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Descending back onto the physical plane as a human felt both alien and exhilarating. The first gasp for air filled your lungs with a sharp, cool sensation, invigorating and strange after eons of ethereal existence. Each breath tasted of the earthy, ancient air of Teyvat, grounding you in a way you had almost forgotten.

Your eyes scanned your surroundings, taking in the dimly lit chamber. You found yourself back inside the old temple where you had once departed from this world, your first creation of both the planet and the universe it resided in.

The room was vast and ancient, with high, vaulted ceilings adorned with faded frescoes depicting the dawn of creation. The stone walls were etched with intricate runes and symbols, remnants of a time long past. Torches flickered softly in their sconces, casting dancing shadows that seemed to whisper secrets of the ages.

You were lying on top of a stone slab, the surface cold and unyielding beneath you. A simple white robe clothed your new form, its fabric coarse against your skin, yet comforting in its simplicity.

You raised your hands, watching eagerly as you moved each finger. The sensation was foreign, a mix of fascination and discomfort. The human body felt both fragile and potent, a vessel brimming with possibilities.

Attempting to stand, you found your legs unsteady, and you tumbled to the hard, cold ground with a soft thud. "Ugh..." you huffed, the sound escaping your lips, a blend of frustration and determination.

You tried to stand up, but your arms and legs were still shaking. You let out a sigh. 'This body is more fragile than I thought it would be...' you mused. 

Crafting this body had been a complex task, designed to contain a tiny fraction of your powers and your Consciousness while still maintaining a link to your true form in the higher plane.

With a surge of determination, you mustered your energy and stood up again. You managed a few unsteady steps before crashing against the stone door. Sweat dripped down your forehead, and you panted, feeling the strain of physical exertion for the first time in ages.

Bracing yourself against the cool, solid surface of the door, you took a moment to catch your breath. 

The temple was eerily silent, the only sounds being your labored breathing and the faint echo of distant memories.

You placed your hands on the old, heavy stone door, trying to push it open with every ounce of physical strength in your frail body. It was as if you were trying to move a mountain. Your muscles trembled with the effort, and despite your determination, the door remained stubbornly immobile.

Realizing the futility of brute force, you closed your eyes and placed your hand gently on the door. Focusing intently, you drew upon the small reservoir of power within you. A faint white light began to emanate from the palm of your hand, soft and ethereal. It tingled through your body, warm and invigorating, as if tiny sparks of energy danced beneath your skin.

Slowly, the heavy door began to open, not through physical effort, but as if invisible, imaginary threads were pulling it open from the other side. You could feel the ancient mechanisms responding to your power, groaning softly as they shifted. The door yielded, inch by inch, until it finally stood ajar, allowing a soft breeze to drift into the temple.

With wobbly legs, you walked outside and were greeted by a vast expanse of vibrant green stretching out before you. The sounds of birds chirping echoed in the distance, a symphony of life resonating through the forest. Your eyes widened with excitement as you hurriedly ventured deeper into the forest, mesmerized by its magical allure.

Each step you took landed on a bed of soft moss, the texture cushioning your feet like the most luxurious mattress. The sensation was soothing and delightful, a stark contrast to the hard stone of the temple. 

Above, a canopy of trees swayed gently in the breeze, their leaves creating a symphony of whispers. Sunlight filtered through the branches, casting dappled patterns of light and shadow that danced around you in an enchanting display.

The air was filled with the sweet scent of blooming flowers and the earthy aroma of the forest floor. You took a deep breath, the freshness of the air invigorating you. The sounds of chirping birds and the distant babble of a stream created a soothing background melody, a gentle reminder of the life teeming around you.

Massive trees with trunks wide enough to house entire rooms rose majestically around you. Their leaves were an array of colors, from the deepest greens to shimmering golds, reflecting the sunlight in a magical display. The forest floor was dotted with flowers of every hue, some glowing faintly, adding to the breathtaking atmosphere.

You spun around in happiness, full of energy, as you took in the beautiful scenery. You had always gazed at the planets from afar, observing them and the mortals who inhabited them, but never being able to feel it, to live it. Now, you were here, a part of this vibrant world, experiencing its wonders firsthand.

Every moment in this new form felt like a gift, a chance to connect with the creation you had so lovingly crafted. The forest welcomed you with open arms, and for the first time in millennia, you felt truly alive.

As you ventured deeper into the forest, every flower, tree, and plant you passed seemed to bloom brighter and more lively than ever before. With each step you took, golden flowers blossomed in your trail, a testament to your presence.

You were filled with happiness, giggling in delight. 'So this is what feelings are like!' you thought.

In your true form, you had never experienced such sensations. Witnessing this firsthand was truly amazing! Creating a human body, a vessel capable of containing even a fraction of your essence, had been the most difficult part, especially after observing billions of humans from different planets and universes simultaneously.

Lost in the scenery, you suddenly tripped over a root and went rolling down a hill. "Woahh," you yelped, and before you realized it, you tumbled off a cliff.

The wind rushed past your face, your hair whipping wildly as you plummeted through the air. Time seemed to slow as you neared the water's surface, the crystal-clear lake shimmering beneath you.

You hit the water with a splash, the coldness enveloping you instantly. The shock of the cold water against your skin was invigorating, every nerve ending coming alive with the sensation. You sank momentarily, the water muffling all sound, creating a serene, otherworldly silence. The lake's clarity allowed you to see the sunbeams piercing through the water, creating dancing patterns of light.

As you resurfaced, you gasped for air, the coolness filling your lungs. You floated there for a moment, feeling the gentle sway of the water around you, the chill seeping into your bones but also refreshing you. The lake was a pristine, tranquil haven, the cold water a stark contrast to the warmth of the forest above.

You laughed, a joyous sound that echoed across the water. This was living, truly living, and the exhilaration of it all was beyond anything you had ever imagined. Every experience, every sensation, was a marvel, and you couldn't wait to see what other wonders this world had in store for you.

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Alhaitham, the current scribe of the Sumeru Akademiya, strode through the dense forest, searching for a very ancient ruin unknown to ordinary people and even the scholars.

This might seem an odd and unnecessary task for a scribe, yet Alhaitham justified it as part of his duty to document rare and important findings.

In Sumeru, the role of a scribe involves more than just classifying and archiving documents. The scribe is a key figure with access to vast and profound knowledge.

Alhaitham fits this role perfectly, possessing information unknown to most, and often comparable to the Grand Conservator. His privileged access to ancient texts has made him a repository of wisdom.

The reason for his solitary search lay in an old relic he had discovered, written in an ancient language and not recorded in the Akasha system.

The relic spoke of a sacred ruin where the Divine Creator had left Teyvat and ascended to a higher plane. Driven by his scholarly curiosity and desire to understand the world's underlying principles, Alhaitham was compelled to verify the existence of this ruin.

As he ventured deeper into the forest of Sumeru, he noticed flowers and plants blooming with an unusual brightness. Intrigued, he followed the path marked by these vibrant plants.

His light turquoise eyes fell upon a pair of golden flowers, their petals shimmering in the sunlight. He blinked, thinking it was an illusion, but as he stepped closer and touched the flowers, they felt real, their golden hue dazzling in the sun's rays.

"Golden flowers bloom in the trail of the Divine Creator's steps," Alhaitham recalled the old tale.

He gazed back at the brightly bloomed flora and then at the golden flowers. As he connected the dots, a sense of wonder and realization washed over him.

This finding...

A bead of sweat trickled down his temple. His usually composed demeanor wavered, his heart pounding with the weight of this revelation.

The Divine Creator... has finally descended.

The significance of what lay before him was overwhelming. These golden flowers, blooming so vividly and impossibly in his path, could only mean one thing.

The legend was not just a myth; it was unfolding right before his eyes. The Creator, whose presence had been absent for millennia, had returned to Teyvat.

Alhaitham's mind raced with questions and possibilities. What could this mean for Teyvat? For its people and gods? He felt a profound sense of duty to document and understand this momentous event.

But beyond his scholarly curiosity, a deeper desire stirred within him. The golden flowers only bloomed in the Creator's steps.

If he could follow this trail, he might find the Creator themselves. The thought was both exhilarating and daunting. To meet the being who had crafted this world was a prospect beyond his wildest dreams.

As he pressed on, the golden flowers continued to guide him, their radiant glow a beacon of hope and discovery. The forest seemed to part before him, welcoming him deeper into its mystical embrace.

He was on the path of the Divine Creator, and he was determined to see where it led.

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"You ask, what does the Creator look like?"

"Hahaha... my child, we do not know. According to the sacred texts, our Creator is shapeless or may take on different forms to our eyes. What is important is that all beings in Teyvat will recognize when our Creator has descended."

"You ask me how?"

"Oh, little Haitham, this is quite simple, especially for those who wield visions, for they will feel the presence unmistakably."

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Reblog if you like this story

[buuniebaby]

HOME TO ME - HAMZAH X LATINA!READER 🎀

hiii! first of all i wanna make a quick note - very sorry for the inconsistency in posting for a few days. ive been struggling with writers block and summer bedrotting is getting to me a lil. 😓😓

there were A LOT of drafts of this fic that i picked up and then didn’t like. a big part of that is that i really wanted to make a fic that hits sort of close to home, and that’s what this one is to me! i was born in nicaragua and moved to the us at a young age, so this fic is based off of my experiences relating to that, even down to little things like my parents and their broken english lol. i still tried to make it pretty ambiguous to other latin-american countries, so I hope it isn’t too specific. it took me a long time to write, but im really happy with the way it came out after a day or two of really thinking about it.

this fic includes: lots of fluff, then it gets nasty. mirror sex, nothing too rough 🤗

wc: 3.4k

Your childhood summers haven’t changed since the last time you stepped foot here, even though it feels like it’s been lifetimes. you’re home, and you’ve brought your boyfriend along with you this time.

the sun shines down on you, a little too hot for your liking. it’s a lot hotter down here than the canadian weather you’re used to. it’s different, but comforting at the same time. what really makes the biggest change is the sight of your boyfriend, rays of sunlight beaming down on him, framing his curls perfectly. it makes you feel at home just as much as being here does.

the air is warm and sticky, thick with remnants of a heavy rain. sweat clings to areas of exposed skin, dampening his shirt collar and hair with a sweat.

you don’t think you’ve loved the latin-american summer as much as you have seeing hamzah bask under it.

showing your boyfriend around your home country feels like the world around you is unreal. it’s like two universes colliding - ones that probably shouldn’t coexist.

one of the things that really makes you feel like you’re out of your own body is walking down the same road that baby-you walked down to get to school. if you could’ve told your middle school self that you bagged a man this bad she would’ve forgiven you for not marrying her celebrity crush.

and the food is what really gets you - the flavor of nostalgia mixing with the taste of your boyfriend’s lips is an otherworldly sensation. although you can’t get him too full yet; that’s a job for your family.

speaking of your family - hamzah is terrified.

he tries looking extra nice at first. he wants to make a good impression, just like you’ve told him to - it’s why he’s surprised you’re bursting out in laughter seeing him walk out in full black tie attire.

“you don’t have to dress like you’re going to a wedding, hamzah-“ you giggle when he speaks over you, trying to defend himself.

“you told me to look nice, and we’re going to a dinner, y’know-“ he rambles, but catches himself. “and you’re wearing a dress!”

you roll your eyes, giving him a dead stare. “this a a sundress, hamzah. it’s not like.. fancy.” he looks at you blankly back. it’s like there’s not a single thought behind his eyes.

after your criticism and a lot of banter, you’ve got him dressed up more.. how you would have envisioned. he’s got those glasses on - the ones he usually edits with. and god, he looks good. he’s paired those with a polo shirt and a nice pair of jeans; he looks nice, presentable, but not over the top.

you’re knocking on the door while he almost shyly stands behind you before you know it. it takes a good few seconds for you to receive any sort of response, but you’re used to it. once someone eventually comes to the door, you’re greeted with the sound of children squealing in the background and music playing off a speaker - the loud environment you’re most used to.

you think you can see hamzah sweating.

your mom greets you with two little cheek kisses, as always, then smothers you into a hug. “muy linda,” she presses another kiss to your forehead, “mi alma.” she eventually finishes her ramblings about how beautiful you are and how much she’s missed you, then pauses as she pulls back. hamzah flinches.

she’s eyeing him down, eyebrows furrowed with a hand on her hip. It’s the death glare - one you know very well. if he wasn’t sweating before he definitely is now, and you’re even close to breaking into one.

hamzah doesn’t even have time to panic before her angry demeanor snaps into laughter. she’s giggling at the way his smile had dropped, grabbing him by the shoulders and pulling him into that same little cheek kiss. he stumbles when she does it, not knowing what to do; an anxious fluster of sorts.

she pulls away looking at you, and her giggles turn into straight-up laughter.

“he look at me so scared.. he like, ‘i already messed up!’” she says, still laughing, now imitating hamzah’s flustered appearance. her English is slightly broken, as you expected, but it’s the way she tries for you is what really counts. she’s putting in the effort. you laugh with her, but not really at what she’s saying - it’s the way she’s already made herself comfortable around your boyfriend.

“y tu eres el novio, verdad?” your father says, pointing at hamzah, managing to creep up behind your mother without you even noticing. “you going to marry her?”

you awkwardly laugh at your father and how weird he has to make things, but that’s just how your family is. hamzah doesn’t mind it, he understands - nonchalantly smiling, looking down at you as he replies with a quick “hope so.”

you giggle back, but your smile is genuine - you know he’s serious about what he just said. “maybe one day.” you continue for him.

you two enter your house and he’s already being crowded by relatives of yours. he’s introducing himself to one of your tías when he feels something tugging on the leg of his pants, startling him. he looks down only to see your baby cousin staring up at him, big beady eyes and an open mouth, almost like he’s some sort of god.

around an hour later, hamzah is about a beer and two plates of food in to the family function. he’s sitting on the floor, a doll in his hand, playing with that same prima from before. you’re not even sure if they’re communicating, if that baby can even speak any language yet, but whatever they’re doing hamzah.. seems to be enjoying himself.

it’s funny, but it’s sweet at the same time, watching your boyfriend like this. it makes you think of your future together. marrying him, taking him into your family - even watching him play with your little prima makes you fall ill with baby fever. he would be an amazing girl dad.

by the end of the night, hamzah is starting to get a little bit plastered, and your mom is already calling him mijo. you’re trying to teach him how to dance to your country’s music (which he surprisingly happens to not be bad at) while also trying to sneak a few drinks yourself. you’re running back to the bathroom when your mom catches you, pulling you aside for a second.

you tilt your head at her, confused. you’re hoping this isn’t what you’ve been nervous about the whole night - you really, really don’t want a “we don’t like this boy” talk.

instead, she smiles, which wipes away most of your worry, but you’re still staring at her reluctantly.

“te vas a casar con este chico.” she mutters, smiling. she might be a little drunk herself from the way she’s talking, but you know there’s a truth to her words. you smile back a small grin, but it means more to you than what appears - your man is locked in. even your mom agrees, he’s the one.

thank the lord.

the party dies down after a while, baby cousin and older relatives drifting off to their bedrooms one by one. you somehow find yourself sitting on your parent’s couch, cuddled up in a blanket next to hamzah. you’re both a little tipsy, what you would say is fine enough to drive, but you already know your mother will argue against you.

“y’wanna get out of here too?” hamzah whispers, voice deep and soft in your ear.

“mhmm.” you say, comfortable in his arms. “wanna stay here for a second though.”

hamzah doesn’t complain, gently rubbing your shoulder underneath the blanket with his forefinger and thumb. it’s domestic, a gentle touch, and it makes you feel warm inside.

“was cute seeing you play with my prima.” you mumble, smiling to yourself at the memory. he laughs when he picks up on what you’re talking about.

“I don’t really think I understood what was going on like, that whole time.” he begins to ramble. “I think her barbies were like, beefing and shit.” he says, smiling down at you when he sees the way you light up with laughter.

“if we ever like, get married, i wanna have a girl.” you say. he’s quick to rebut you.

“that’s not how it works.” he argues back, stupidly.

“well then, like, we just have more.” you say, the mix of alcohol and sleepiness not giving you the energy to seriously discuss this with him. “you’d make a good girl dad, i think.”

he smiles at that comment. he’s seen it around on tiktok and other social media. he thinks it’s cute, and suddenly the idea of marriage and knocking you up doesn’t seem so scary to him. that gentle touch on your shoulders is moving down to your hips before you know it. you’re both aware that you can’t do anything on your family couch, but you know the intention behind his grip.

“i think you’d be a good boy mom.” he says back. “i could see you like, teaching him how to cook and stuff. i think if you had a baby boy he would be like, really respectful, not like brain-rotted.” you laugh at the stupidity of his comments.

“i think if you raised a boy, he would end up going down like, the alt right pipeline, and start watching andrew tate clips on youtube shorts.”

you both laugh at that - it’s obvious that you’re joking now, but you still enjoy the deprecating banter.

“if my kid doesn’t reach alpha male status, im sending his ass to the frontlines.”

you continue your painfully stupid chatter, not paying attention to how dark it’s getting.

your mother eventually creeps up to you, and you take it as a sign that you should probably start making your way out.

after saying your final goodbyes to your family members who are still standing awake, you’re making your way out the door. after a few cheek kisses and repeatedly denying the “no cab? you sure?” from your mom, you two are on the way back to your hotel.

hamzah’s hand is on your thigh as he drives. it’s another domestic touch that drives you crazy. the little things are really getting to you tonight.

“you’re good with kids.” you mumble, letting your thoughts out with no warning.

“yeah?” is all hamzah says, keeping his eyes on the road and his hand on your thigh.

“yeah.” you repeat back in a breathier tone.

“im not getting you pregnant right now, if that’s what you’re asking.” he mutters, still focused on the road. “I’ll cum inside you, but I can’t handle a baby yet-”

“hamzah!” you nearly yell. “i don’t mean- i mean yeah, that’s a part of it, but like- i guess you’re just like-“ you stutter, trying to gather your flustered self. “it’s like, a domestic thing I guess. makes me wanna settle down with you one day.”

despite how nonchalant he’s acting, he gets exactly what you’re saying.

“yeah. y’know, that little sundress you’re wearing?” hamzah starts, eyes tearing off the road for a second. “that’s like, wife shit.”

you giggle at the way he says it, but you’re flattered at the intention.

“kinda surprised you liked it that much. feel like guys think sundresses are just like, skin-tight skims dresses.”

“you look fucking hot in it, are you serious? like shit, maybe i will just get you pregnant if you’re wearing that.” hamzah pauses for a moment, looking over at you while your eyes widen. “i’m joking. by the way.” you let out a soft “aww,” making a soft smile creep onto his face.

“you don’t have to tonight. i’m joking.” you smile up at him. “but i do miss the feeling of you inside me.” you can tell that you’re at least getting to him a little bit; he’s starting to get riled up.

“duh,” he says, jokingly, but his tone changes with his next words. “ill cum all over that fuckin’ dress if you really want me to.”

there’s the hamzah you were looking for.

he’s already pulling the car you two rented into the parking lot of your hotel, and you can’t even speak before the silence is interrupted with his own thoughts.

“gonna be all over you the second we get to our fucking room.” he mutters, opening his car door. as both of you get out, you can see the hard-on already somewhat formed through his pants.

you love getting him worked up like this.

checking into the room is almost painful. he stands behind you as you speak in spanish to the hotel staff, cock pressed up right against your ass. you’re stuttering as she asks you for your reservation, knowing you’re about to get fucking destroyed.

he wasn’t lying about being all over you. the minute that keycard clicks and the door is open, you’re being shoved onto the bed, hamzah crawling on top of you.

it’s a pretty hotel room - you’re taking it all in as hamzah is on top of you. huge bathroom, silky sheets, relatively good size, yet there’s one thing that sticks out to you. there’s a long mirror, placed at the side of the bed.

it’s the perfect place to get fucked in front of.

you don’t even think hamzah has taken a glance at the architecture around him from the way he’s locked in on your body. you feel his hands gravitate against different areas of your body, resting on your hips, grabbing the soft flesh through your dress. he places a soft, warm kiss to your lips, but continues with a harsher, more sloppy one. it only continues on your neck, biting and kissing down to your collarbone.

he keeps his lips in a certain place for a second, and you already know you’re going to be covering up dark spots on your neck tomorrow.

“pretty,” is all he mumbles when he pulls off, moving down to add yet another bite to your neck.

he pulls the top of your sundress down a little bit, straps going over your shoulders. it’s just enough to free your bra, which he pulls off even quicker.

his mouth is all over your tits before you know it - as expected. he’s sucking at them, licking at the nipple while the other hand fondles the soft flesh around. you can feel him getting harder against your thigh, which you didn’t even think was possible at this point.

you can tell he’s getting frustrated with how fucking tight his pants are getting, cock getting harder by the second. he quickly unbuttons his jeans, pulling them down to his ankles - he’s a little too horny to take the effort to fully pull them down. when he pulls off his boxers he lets out a sigh, letting his cock free.

you readjust to do the same, pulling at the straps of your dress, but hamzah stops you, a large hand covering yours.

“want you to keep it on.”

yes sir.

you pull the straps back up to where they should regularly be, wearing your sundress like normal, just braless. hamzah takes a minute to catch his breath, but it’s hard when you’re under him looking like that. he takes in his surroundings a little bit more as he calms down, finally noticing the mirror to his side. you can tell by the look on his face that he’s got the same idea as you.

his focus lands back on you when he turns back to look you in the eyes, gently stroking himself. his hips roll softly into his hand, pumping himself loosely in his fist. he takes his other hand and pulls your dress up just enough to see your underwear.

he’s too lazy to get them off your body, so he just pushes them to the side, a finger sliding between the soft lips to your entrance. it emits a gasp from you, even though you were expecting it.

“you look so fucking good from here.” he says, breathy. your brows furrow for a second, confused as to what he means by ‘from here,’ but then you realize where his eyes are pointed -

- the mirror.

you turn your head to look at it too, and god, he isn’t wrong. the way his hands strain, groping at your thighs while he grazes against your cunt. it’s hotter than you had expected, the idea of seeing yourself get destroyed from multiple angles.

he presses a finger into you, and you flinch at the feeling. it’s not long before he’s sliding another one in with it, pulling at your hips with his strong arms to bring you down to his knuckles. you’re looking at yourself in the mirror as he does it, watching as he pushes you around like a toy.

he pulls his fingers out after curling them a few times inside of you, and you protest by trying to buck up your hips up again. he pushes on your womb with big hands, forcing you down.

“s’okay baby.” he affirms you in a soft voice. “wanna fuck you now.”

he grabs you by the waist, strong enough to pick you up with just his bare hands and flip you over. he presses your bodies close together once you’re on your hands and knees, your back against his chest. he nestles his head right above your neck, the perfect spot to whisper into your ear.

“look in the mirror,” he starts, and you immediately do what he says. “watch how fucking good you look while I touch you.”

your back arches as an instinct at his words, feeling his palms glide against your hips. your vision feels hazy, but you’re still paying attention to the way he clings onto soft skin.

you let out a whine, shutting your eyes and facing down when he touches your inner thighs, but it doesn’t last long. before you can finish his hand rushes to your jaw, grabbing your face, pointing your head back to the mirror.

“told you to look at yourself, baby.”

it’s hot, the way he’s in control of you, even if it doesn’t take much to get you to submit. he kisses at your shoulder blade softly, watching your desperate expression fade into excitement. he strokes himself one last time before the tip meets your pussy.

your breath hitches when you feel him slide into you, strokes slow. it fits in you nicely, the back of your thighs pressing against his when he’s all the way in. a finger and thumb caress the skin between your ass and hips while he bottoms out.

“c’mon baby,” he says, slowly starting to drag his hips in and out of you. “move those hips.”

you can’t argue with him, doing what he says on command. you roll your hips back the same way you roll your eyes, creating a rhythm with his thrusts. it earns a moan from him.

he grips your hips while his speed up, moving in and out of you with an unforgiving pace. it’s enough to send you reeling, squealing as you struggle to keep your focus on the mirror. you can barely keep your composure, the urge to shove your head in your pillow and just let him use you stronger than ever.

“wasn’t- fuck- lying when I told you I wanna come all over that dress.” he says, struggling to get his words out. it only makes you clench around him, his words driving you to your own finish.

you’re screaming a “hamzah! can’t fucking take it-“ while he’s plowing into you, building up a well-awaited orgasm. he waits until he feels that clench-and-pulse sensation around his cock, signaling that you’ve came before he pulls out.

he doesn’t even need to touch himself to cum after seeing you like this - he lets himself go, ropes of his semen covering the floral patterns of your dress.

he basks in the sight of you for a moment, catching his breath after his orgasm. it’s a lot for him, fucking you after being pent up the whole day. overstimulating, almost. you’re just that attractive to him, poor boy can’t control himself.

he lays on top of your chest, grounding himself. the feeling of being against you bare skin is comforting to him, a sense of home that you two both find in each other. you run your hands through the curls of his hair.

that’s what he is to you - home. just like how it feels to be here.

[logicallabyrinth]

yandere emperor (romantic) x male reader prince.

If the reader refuses to marry him, what will he do? (the reader is of legal age and is from another kingdom)

Damn, he'd probably be angry furious.

The emperor isn't one to take refusal lightly, especially from someone he has chosen to be his partner. At first, he tries to hide his disappointment, maintaining his composure, but the grip he has on his temper isn't tight. He speaks to you with a calm tone but every word is just a trap.

“My dear prince,” he says, “this isn’t just about us. Our union is the key to peace and prosperity for both our kingdoms. Surely you wouldn’t deny your people such a future.”

When you continue to resist, his methods shift. The palace starts to become your prison, guards stationed around to monitor your movements, and invitations from other nobles mysteriously stop arriving. Lucian, however, is ever-present. His words are laced with manipulation, painting your refusal as a betrayal not just of him but of the people who depend on you.

“You’re being blinded by fear,” he whispers one evening, standing too close. “But I will free you from that.”

If attempt at coercing you fails, Lucian turns to more drastic measures. Your kingdom, once thriving, begins to suffer. Trade embargoes, blocked alliances, and veiled threats to your family serve as chilling reminders of his power. Through it all, Lucian maintains the same facade of a doting emperor, always framing his actions as necessary.

“You leave me no choice,” he says, his golden eyes glowing with an unsettling mix of love and dominance. “But one day, you’ll thank me for saving you from your own stubbornness.”

To Lucian, your refusal is a temporary inconvenience. Whether through persuasion or force, he is determined to bind you to him. In his mind, your love will eventually bloom, whether it is willingly give... or carefully cultivated through control.

[moosesarecute]

December 23rd

December Masterlist

Masterlist

Azriel had moved you to his bedroom in the House of Wind after you had fallen asleep. You remembered being picked up and shushed back to sleep, but you don’t remember being brought to his room.

He slept soundly beside him. He snored a little. Azriel only snored when he felt exhausted, so you decided to let him sleep for as long as he needed.

You got his shadows to help you out of his arms so that he didn’t wake up, before you moved into the kitchen.

It was cookie time.

With the help of the shadows you first mixed sugar and brown sugar, before you added flour, vanilla and eggs. In the end you mixed in chopped hazelnuts and dark chocolate.

You scooped out over 50 small cookies and baked them in the oven. In the meanwhile, you started on the presents.

Rhys had given you one of Feyre’s favorite dresses. It had three small holes. It didn’t take you long to saw all of them. It looked good as new.

You remembered the dress the second you saw it. Rhys’ mother had used you as a model to make it.

After that, you moved on to an apron. It was Elain’s and you decided to embroider flowers on it. Just like the flowers of you made on the dresses of the dolls Nick and his elves made.

That’s what you were doing when Nesta walked in.

“You’ve been busy,” she said. “Can I try one?”

You picked up one of the cookies that had cooled down and gave it to her. She took a bite and smiled.

“These are so good! You know, the boys tried to make these. They weren’t half as good as yours.”

You could imagine Azriel and Cassian baking together and the mess they would make. The thought made you happy.

“What’s the deal with the cookies? I’ve heard you’re very set on making these all of December.”

You smiles again as memories of your mother filled your mind.

“I grew up in Windhaven too. We weren’t very well off. I was lucky enough to be able to eat dinner with Rhys and his mother most days, but I remember going to bed hungry often. However, in the month of December my mother had been saving for many months to make sure be had money for sugar, eggs, nuts and chocolate. We would make cookies on the 1st of December. The recipe made about 20 cookies, but we made them so small that he had at least 42. Then, we would eat one each every day until Winter Solstice. And if we had more than 42, my father would get the rest.”

It was your fondest memory from your mother. That was one of the many reasons to why you loved Winter Solstice.

“You really loved your mother, didn’t you?”

“Yes, she was the best. She always supported me.”

“She died when you were young, didn’t she? Do you mind me asking what happened?”

“Unlike most fae, my mother didn’t have the best health. She was sick from a very young age. She got worse and worse from the time I turned sixteen. She passed as I turned 19. She got a very short life for fae standards, as she was only 64 as she died. But she got to meet Azriel and that means a lot.”

You and Nesta ended up speaking for quite a while. You spoke about everything: mates, food, books and training.

“Ooo, it smells sooo good,” Cassian’s strong voice boomed through the kitchen as he walked in.

He stumped towards the cookies, but you slapped his hand away before he managed to touch one.

“Cauldron, Cass. You have to wash your hands first!”

He turned to you and you expected to see his annoyed face, but he only smiled at you. He threw himself on you with a hug.

“Oh, I’ve missed you,” he said.

You gave him a cookie and he and Nesta went out to train.

You had finished presents for Feyre and Elain and moved on to Amren and Nesta. You were going to make two different things, but the way to make them were similar. You needed to knit a rectangle and fold it into a book cover for Nesta and a jewelry holder for Amren.

You picked a thicker yarn so that the knitting would be quicker. Then you would sew a piece of fabric on the inside of both of them.

You had just begun when you were covered in shadows. You almost expected Azriel to arrive soon after, but the humming feeling in your chest told you he was still sleeping. The shadows had been following you the entire morning, but right now they were actually holding your entire body.

So you decided to put the shadows to work.

“So you push that needle into this hoop, then you twist the yarn around and flip up the hoop over the yarn twisted around the needle,” you said as you showed the shadows how to knit.

You sat together and knitted and it was surprisingly fun. They would pull your hair once a while because they had lost a stitch or done something else wrong, but they did a great job.

Azriel woke up and was ready to pull you tighter towards him.

But you weren’t there.

Panic immediately filled his chest. Had he been dreaming? Why weren’t you there? He looked at the time. It was eleven. He must have been sick or hurt.

“Kitchen,” his shadows told him.

Azriel threw on a shirt and ran to the kitchen. Relief filled his body as he saw you. He wrapped his arms around your waist and took in your scent.

“I didn’t mean to worry you,” you told him.

You must have felt his emotions through the bond.

“It’s okay, just, please wake me next time,” he said and kissed your head.

That’s when he noticed his shadows. His shadows were feared creatures. They often killed or tortured with him. And people ran away in fear from just a sight of them.

But now, they were knitting.

“You taught them to knit?”

“Of course!”

Azriel couldn’t help all the emotions that filled his heart. It was ridiculous, but very cute at the same time.

“You’re cute,” he told you with a new kiss.

The two of you had moved into the living room. Azriel sat and read some reports, while you sewed with your legs in his lap. It was fire in the fireplace and hot chocolate stood on the table.

It was so calm and peaceful.

You were working on sewing the jewelry holder for Amren, when you pricked your finger with the needle.

“Ouch,” you said softly and put your thumb into your mouth. The metallic taste of blood hit your tongue.

You had pricked yourself with needles extremely many times. It became something you almost didn’t notice happened. So you started sewing again.

However, you were filled with a bunch of anxiety. As you looked up at Azriel he looked extremely worried.

He reached for your hand and brushed carefully over your thumb.

“You’re bleeding,” he said. His eyebrows were furrowed.

“Az,” you said. “I’m okay. It’s okay. Don’t worry.”

You moved away your sewing and held Azriel into your chest. His shaky breath told you he was crying. You realized that your blood definitely had triggered something.

“Shhh,” you kissed his head. “I’m here, my shadow. I’m not going anywhere. I’m safe. It was just a small needle. I’m safe in your protection.”

He calmed down more and more the more you spoke. He looked up at you with eyes that were just a little puffier than before. You kissed his forehead and held him a little longer.

Eventually, he started reading again and you moved over to Cassian’s present. You repaired some of his leathers. You finished both his pants and shirt and made sure they were sturdy enough to last him a long time.

For Mor, you begun making a fabric purse with a smaller compartment for makeup, a place holder for a drink and a bigger compartment for anything. The bad was almost finished when you started. You had started it before you got kidnapped. Picking it up again felt bittersweet. Let just say that both you and Azriel crying once again when you brought it out.

“It’s getting quite late, dear,” Azriel said as he held his hand out. He pulled you out of the couch and made the way to the bedroom.

His shadows were swirling lazily around you, but not in a sleepy manner. You moved your hand over to his back and drew a line down his entire back. His wing twitched just a little.

You knew very well what you were doing.

As you closed the door to the bedroom, you kissed him passionately. You moved to kiss down to his neck and ear. He let out a soft sigh. You locked eyes with his gentle hazel eyes and suddenly all you could think of was him.

Taglist: @prettylittlewrites @hailqueenconquer @onebadassunicorn @mich0731 @tele86 @mellowmusings @anarchiii @anainkandpaper @donnadiddadog @atomictyphoonkitten @annablack @graciepies @salvatoresister1 @nastylicious @plants-w0rld @stqrgirlies-blog @scoliobean @kbear8863

Dividers by: @issysh3ll

[rpgchoices]

The result of the DA romances survey (>2000 partecipants!) - Part 1

2273 people answered the survey, thank you so much! I truly did not expect such a big number and I am so humbled!

With all this data I wanted here to present the general results, and then work a bit more with correlations (ex. Zevran romancers... who did they prefer in next games?) in a part 2. So this part 1 will be a summary (with graphs) of the whole survey. The original survey was here on google form, I reopened it only to allow people to check how each question was written.

This first part is divided in:

General considerations on the sample size

General data

Dragon Age: origins (spoilers)

Dragon Age 2 (spoilers)

Dragon Age Inquisition (spoilers)

Dragon Age The Veilguard (no spoilers)

1. General considerations on the sample size

The survey was open from 16th November to 23rd November and 2273 people answered.

A consideration always must be done of the sample. In this case I wanted to underline that the places where I shared the survey and especially where it found track are well represented, while I definitely missed other portions of the fandom.

In general I shared the survey on tumblr (here), on twitter, on blue sky and on reddit. On twitter and blue sky I received a very small number of likes and retweet, while mainly the survey was shared on tumblr and it received comments here on reddit. Twitter, tumblr and bluesky are more correlated to a closer circle than places like reddit, so for completion sake: my rpgchoices tumblr is mainly about queer romances and videogames with queer content, my twitter is less DA-focused (actually only DA focused recently) and my bluesky is very very small.

Also keep in mind that people who have access to playing data will always have the correct data, because this sample size here reflects the online active fandom (mainly on reddit and tumblr) and not the general player base!

Another thing: I really regret not adding a question about age, gender and where you found the survey!

2. General data

The first question is, of course, which games did you play? People could choose multiple games at one:

I was quite surprised to see that Inquisition was the game most people played, but in general these was little difference between the three main games: DAI, DAO and DA2.

Veilguard (in violet) was divided between "Finished at least once" and "playing" and the sum of the two is 1998, which puts it just after Trespasser.

DAO DLCs are also the less played in general (with Darkspawn chronicles the least played), but with Awakening more played than DA2: Legacy and DA2: Mark of the Assassin.

Now, jumping into romances:

The majority of people seem to have a canon romance for each game (56%). 26% of people instead have different player characters for different romances (just like me!) while 15% of people mix it up!

Regarding the total characters that can be romanced in all the games (please ignore the colors, I messed the up... I am sorry):

For these graphs we can look right at the top and see that in both cases: Alistair is first. Alistair was the character that was romanced at least once and also multiple times the most. The order is the same for the first group of characters (in order): Alistair, Fenris, Zevran, Anders, Solas, Cullen, Dorian. The rest is relatively similar, with only some swaps.

For Veilguard (in violet) the numbers are smaller because the game is still new, so not many occasions to romance multiple characters. Lucanis in both cases was the most romanced in Veilguard and the one most romanced multiple times (126).

There was also another general question at the end, regarding other videogames with romances:

Congrats to the 5 people who played Hero-U rogue to redemption (it was adorable).

The question was framed with (for example) "Baldur's Gate games" so any game from 1 to 3. All these games have romances and are rpg, also if not all of them have queer romances.

Probably thanks to BG3 we have Baldur's Gate games in first place, with 1941 people (almost close to the full amount of the sample!) who played them, followed by the Mass Effect trilogy and Elder Scroll games.

If I can personally recommend games on the bottom half of the list: Pendula Swing (1920s urban fantasy, no combat, queer romances, female protagonist), Sorcery! (male or female protagonist, only 1 romance option who is a guy who tries to assassinate you, 4 games, text rpg, lots of choices, fantasy), Enderal (free pc mod for Skyrim with its own world, lore and story, one of the best game opening scenes ever if not the best, fully voiced, action rpg, queer romance, two tomance options) and Rogue Trader (isometric rpg in Warhammer universe, no knowlegde of the world or lore required, sci fi, turn based combat, multiple romances, queer romances, 1 d/s romance where you can choose to be dom or sub) are among my favorite games ever.

3. DRAGON AGE ORIGINS (spoilers from the game)

Alistair was the romance most favorited by people who answered the survey, with 38% of people choosing him, followed by Zevran (26%) and Morrigan (18%). A very small amount of people (3%) had no one as their favorite/canon romance.

Second fav romance was basically the same graph again!

Regarding the player character:

Female human Warden (Cousland) was the Warden that seems most played by the sample size, both for being considered the canon one (surpassing second place: female city elf, by almost double) and for being played at least once.

I also found it interesting that the order of female and male characters is the same. In general female Wardens are more popular (68%) but the order of popularity for origin being played at least once is still: human noble, city elf, dalish elf, elf mage, human mage, dwarf noble and dwarf commoner.

For what is considered canon, the order seems to change, with city elf male falling down the other elves, and human mage being even less popular.

There were also two questions about Morrigan and Alistair's destinies, but people let me know I missed some options, apologies! So take these with a grain of salt:

4. DRAGON AGE 2 (SPOILERS)

For favorite romance in DA2 we have Fenris taking even a bigger % of "fav romance" than Alistair in DAO (and keep in mind Alistair had less competitors!), followed by Anders (24%) and Isabela (15%).

Interesting for the second favorite romance it is the "No second favorite, only one favorite" that wins with 31%! This means that in DA2, a 31% of people just have a strong preference for one romance only.

Regarding the player character (Hawke):

(top graph) purple female Hawke seems to be the one that is preferred as canon Hawke, followed by purple male hawke. Red hawke (both genders) was the least chosen one.

(bottom graph) in general, Marian Hawke had a higher number of players (played at least once as) than Garrett Hawke, but the difference was not as big as we saw between female and male protagonists in DAO.

(pie graph) regarding the customization, the majority of people (51%) customized all of their Hawke, indipendently from gender and playthrough. A big number (33%) instead used the default Hawke, while others preferred a mix of the two (depending on gender or playthrough).

VARRIC!

39% of players would have romanced Varric in DA2 if he had been available! But interestingly this pie is divided in almost equal parts between yes, no and depending on how the romance actually was (which was the one I chose!).

5. DRAGON AGE INQUISITION

Solas was the most chosen romance (as favorite or canon) in DAI, with 25% of people choosing him. Dorian is second (18%) and Cullen third (15%). The no one (3%) is comparable to the same answer in the previous games.

Maybe unsurprisingly Sera was the least favorite romance among the companions (sigh... she is my canon one), with The Iron Bull also having very similar numbers to her (that surprised me, I admit it!). Josephine was the favorite female romance in DAI (11%).

As for DA2, when I asked about the second favorite romance there was a high number of "no second favorite" (19%), followed by Dorian, then Josephine. I think the fact that we do not have the same order as before (Solas, Dorian, Cullen) might mean that the Solas and Cullan romancer are very dedicated to their romance, especially Solas - who had only a 9% of people that chose him as a second favorite romance.

Regarding the Inquisitor:

Female elf (Lavellan) had an incredibly high number of people choosing her as their canon inquisitor, more than double second place (human female). The rest of the Inquisitors are not too different (a part from dwarves who again get the least amount).

For the question "which of these inquisitors did you play at least once" the order of the choices are pretty similar, with "female elf", "female human", "male elf" and "male human" (in this order) at the top.

Regarding the choice for Divine Victoria:

The majority (60%) chose Leliana as their Divine. In second place instead we had no canon Divine or a change based on playthrough. Vivienne (my Divine!!!) was the least chosen one (I am starting to feel some of my choices are very unpopular haha).

Now, for who did you leave in the fade:

It is pretty clear that (black and red graph, last on the right) Stroud was the easiest to leave in the fade.

(blue and red, first graph on the left) Hawke was also saved the most in games that had Loghain as the other option, with a similar percentage of people that chose to leave Loghain (82%) or Stroud (85%).

Surprisingly this flips (central graph, grey and red) when the choice was between Alistair and Hawke. Hawke in this case was the one left in the Fade, even if in less extreme % (67%), with Alistair being the one usually saved. Which checks out given Alistair was the most popular romance choice in DAO among the people who answered this survey.

6. DRAGON AGE VEILGUARD (NO SPOILERS)

And here the tentatively presented Veilguard results! I say tentatively because we are still very close to release, and a lot of people did not have the time to experience the full game or multiple romances.

In fact, only 11% of people completed multiple playthroughs. 46% completed the game at least once, while 31% are still playing it for the first time.

Regarding the player character, I only added questions regarding factions as they seem much more influential than elf/qunari/dwarf/human:

This was a multiple choice in case people tried different factions! Shadow Dragons, Mourn Watches and Grey Wardens have very similar numbers and are the top three. Surpringly, Veil Jumper was on the bottom (with Lord of Fortune being the least chosen).

Regarding the romances:

Before players started the game it seems like they had an idea among the characters who were romancable, with a lot of people being interested in the three male characters (Lucanis, Emmrich, Davrin) followed by Neve, Harding and Taash. Surprisingly, Bellara was even lower than "none/no spoilers".

In the first game, people followed more or less what they were interested in, with 28% of people going for the Lucanis romance, followed by Emmrich (19%) and then Davrin (16%). Following we have Neve, Harding and then Bellara, which this time surpassed Taash.

When we look at "who is your favorite romance" (graph on the left) we see that things changed based on expectation/who you tried to romance first.

Lucanis is not first anymore, but we actually have Emmrich (23%) as the favorite romance, followed by No one (19%) and only then Lucanis (15%). Davrin is in fourth place with 14%. The rest follows the same order as before, but all the female characters and the one non-binary characters are under "Multiple beloved equally" which is 9%.

Regarding the second favorite romance, maybe (because the game is so new) it is to be expected that the option that wins is "None/I only have one" with 36%, followed by Emmrich (16%) and then Davrin (13%). Interestingly, Lucanis fall to just a 7% under the "Multiple" (11%). I think (like we saw before for Solas and Cullen) it seems like the people who like Lucanis romance him and might not have a second favorite.

I hope you enjoyed this summary!! I cannot wait to make even more graphs and see what else is in this data!

[midnightanxietytm]

He takes his whiskey neat

A/N: Look, I think i was possessed while writing this one /j. It was like 1 am and I was procrastination on college work, I dunno what happened but this is the ungodly spawn of my imagination mixed with sleep deprivation, caffeine and stress. Enjoy and don't question it too much

Contents: Ford Pines x reader, pinning (lots of pining), I pictured reader in their late 40s to early 50s so there is an age gap but nothing extreme. There's some plot in those holes. uhhh lots of tension and no payoff because im pretty sure I passed out before I got to that part.

Word count: 996

There’s this look on his eyes now that you can’t quite figure out.

Ever since Stanford Pines came back from the portal, ever since weirdmageddon and the end of that fateful summer, something about him fundamentally changed. There’s contempt, relief, sure, but there's more to it, something that he keeps deep in that rattling metal-protected brain of his.

And god forbid sometimes you just want to pick him apart entirely, figure out every detail, note it down, absorb it, maybe then his mere presence won’t entice you, mess you, so goddamn much.

It culminates, as all events are bound to do, right before that year’s summer vacation, you blame the heat. 

Soos and Melody took a vacation for themselves, entrusting the shack back to Stan’s less than trustworthy hands, just like old times. Ford slips back into the basement so easily you almost follow him; your mind briefly longing for that nostalgia of being freshly out of college, when you and Ford were easily impressed by the oddness of the world.

You were a prodigy; a good ten years younger than him yet still doing your masters while he did his doctorate, and in the same area with similar themes! Back then, you two were just bright-eyed yet very tired academics… Then Gravity Falls presented itself on a silver platter, and Bill followed through.

You were there, on the day of the portal, or at least, almost there, going back for the thousandth time, expecting no answer to your knocks at the door as usual, only to be met with the fallout of something far worse than refusal.

And then he was back, less jittery, less paranoid and less sleep deprived than he was before at least. But there was that thing in his eyes, that inherent distrust, detachment…? You struggled to find the words and if there’s one thing that you as a scientist can’t deal with is a question that goes unresearched.

So it began; your “research” depended on experiment and to experiment, you firstly decided to get close to your unwilling subject. And you go down the rabbit hole.

You find him in the basement, of course. He’s drawing on loose sheets of paper, some of the discarded pieces lay on the floor, and the cd player by his side is playing just loud enough to muffle your footsteps as you approach him by his right side. “Updating the journal?” You ask, nonchalantly, as if you hadn't obsessively turned each page of his journals before, as if your own handwriting wasn’t squeezed in the first ones before his old muse took all the space left.

Ford just hums, raising his chin slightly, but not his eyes, just to acknowledge the question. “Not really, just trying to get some proportion practice. Looking back, some of my work on the first journal was… Not the best.” 

A chuckle leaves your mouth; “If you say so…” You hum, picking up one of the filled out pages that were pushed aside in the table and pretending to look it over as he places his pen down and looks up at you.

“Any advice?” He asks, and once again you pretend to be paying attention to anything but him and his every movement.

“Not really… I think you’re good.” You place the paper back at the table, leaning against it. “Thought you’d be going through your abstract phase by now, honestly.” And you smirk down at him.

He leans back, crossing his arms; “I fear I’m too logical to have an abstract phase, even my craziest dreams have math and science behind them.” And you both laugh, and your curiosity itches more and more every millisecond.

The next words that leave your mouth were planned and inwardly rehearsed, but they come out natural as a summer breeze. “Every tortured artist has an abstract phase, get on with the times, sixer!” It comes out as a joke, it's a test. And suddenly you’re too nervous to stay there, staring at him and waiting for a rebuttal. You push yourself off the table and zipline to one of the bookshelves, reaching towards the back of it, you pull the ‘eureka whiskey’ and the two cups.

He just watches you for a second, then accepts the cup as you pour him one, then one for yourself. 

And it’s truly the eureka whiskey, because goddamn you just found something in those eyes. 

He takes a sip; “Yeah I guess those portal days would do for some good surrealist pieces at least.”

“I can’t even imagine.” You say.

He smirks, lips inches from his cup. “You can’t…” He takes a sip. “That’s the point of surrealist.” You want his brain under a microscope, you want his breath mixing with yours, you want to never see him again, you want to wake up near him every day.

The curse of science is that in the endeavor to figure out the world, the scientist often loses sight of themselves. 

The witty remarks, the planned lines, the psychological strategies, all fly out of you head and you lean back against his desk. He’s leaned further back now and his chair is turned diagonally towards you and he watches with a smile and those eyes. “What did you see?” It’s almost a whisper, because you think he might actually tell you, and that scares you more than anything.

“Too much…” He swallows, sighs, takes a swing of whiskey and rests the empty cup on the desk. “It was very chaotic, honestly that’s all I want to say…” You sigh, pushing yourself up to sit at his desk, and his head tilts as he watches you. 

“I’m glad you’re back.” You settle, even though it doesn’t even come near to all the things you want to express. He smiles, and his eyes travel down, landing on your hands, holding your barely touched whiskey glass. You follow his gaze, and chuckle. “I’m more of a whine person.”

“I know…”

[rowdyluv]

Little Things jh⁸⁶

pt 1

Summary: in which Jack agrees to help his close friend with losing her virginity.

Warnings: 18+, mdni experienced x inexperienced, sort of friends sort of already lovers, blurred lines of relationship, use y/n & y/n/n, pet names,

Word Count: 2.3k+

Notes: this is my first time publishing a smut fic here, not my first time writing smut. i did not write it how i wanted to nor how i usually write it. much more tame than what I would typically do. didn’t want to full send on the first one. please be kind.

- you are responsible for what any and all media you interact with on the internet. this piece of fiction is intended for those 18 years of age and older ONLY. if you are a minor, do not continue to read below the cut.

Read part 2 here

"What the hell are we doing?" Jack's voice was a mix of surprise and excitement, his breath hot against her ear. “Are you positive you want this?” He has to ask her again for the twelfth time this evening. He keeps hoping her answers continues to be yes, but it would end him if they go through with this little “one time” rendezvous and she never spoke to him again. Y/n is his go to person for every little thing. It used to be his mom, until she came into his life around age 17.

“Yes Jacky, i wouldn’t have brought it up if i didn’t think i could handle the after effect.” Y/n ran her hand through his hair and kissed his cheek. Jack turned to face her as they sat in traffic.

“I have to be sure, I can’t just jump into bed with someone as important as you are to me and it end up hurting you. Or you wake up tomorrow and think it’s a mistake, I can’t do it like that.” He babbles, as he turns his attention back to the road when traffic starts moving again allowing him to pull into his apartment’s parking lot. “I’m not saying I won’t have sex with you, how many times have we almost before?”

“I figured that, if I can’t get out of my head to have sex with someone because im embarrassed that I’m 23 and still a virgin, and my best friend is this self proclaimed sex god. Why not ask him to help me out?” She bit her lower lip for a moment watching Jack’s face for a reaction. “Plus..at least I know he would never hurt me and would listen to me.” Her voice was softer than before, one of her hands turning his face towards her to delicately caress his cheek. Jack flashed her small soft smile that seemed to only ever be reserved for her and his eyes held onto hers.

Jack took a deep breath and swallowed hard. He had never seen his best friend like this before. Desire painted on her features like a masterpiece. For a moment he wondered if she wanted him or if she was only wanting to lose her virginity as her plan proposed. Either way he knew he had to be careful, but the raw, animalistic need coursing through his body was begging for release. He leaned in as if he was going to kiss her before diverting towards her left ear and whispered into, his hot breath sending shivers down her spine, “Just hope I don’t ruin you for all the other guys out there babygirl.” He tried to resist the urge to smirk, knowing that his reputation was a double-edged sword.

Y/n sucked in a shaky breath, squeezing her thighs together a little tighter at the husky draw in his voice. She couldn’t tell him that he already ruined everyone else’s chances the day he entered her life. That he is part of the reason she froze when presented the opportunity to be with someone else is because her and Jack’s confusing relationship.

Jack got out of his car, y/n following his lead grabbing ahold of the hand he held out for her. The two practically ran up the flight of stairs to his front door. Jack was fumbling with his keys to unlock the door, when he noticed y/n had already walked in having used her own.

“If you keep it accessible you don’t have to stand there and wait.” She giggled pulling him in by each side of his jacket.

“Someone’s a bit eager.” Jack mumbles against her lips, kissing her, just as if it’s second nature to them.

“Who wouldn’t be when they’re about to be with the Jack Hughes.” Y/n taunted, and that was enough to break Jack’s ego.

The two stumbled into the dimly lit bedroom, the soft glow of the bedside lamp that’s always left on casting shadows across the room. The floorboards creaked beneath their weight as they approached the bed, the anticipation thick in the air. Jack’s eyes roamed over her, taking in every inch of her body, his gaze lingering on the spot where her shirt had ridden up, revealing the smooth skin of her stomach. He reached out and traced the outline of her belly button with his thumb, watching her eyes flutter closed and her chest rise and fall with each quickened breath.

Slow Rowdy, keep it slow. She’s not some slut you’ve brought home from the bar after a game. She’s y/n. Babygirl, sweet girl. Your girl. Go slow.

His mind was reeling, chanting the same mantra over and over, not just because it was her first time, but because he didn’t want to screw this up. He had to make it perfect for her. Prefect because y/n is his girl. Or should be his girl.

He leaned down and captured her mouth in a deep, exploratory kiss, his tongue dancing with hers, still able to taste the fruity cocktail she had a dinner and the faint hint of the mint leaf she chewed on to be silly on her breath. His hands traveled to her exposed waist, momentarily teasing the uncovered skin, before gently lifting her shirt over her head and tossing it aside. Skimming his hands lightly up her sides and around her back, he unhooked her bra with trembling fingers like he was 17 all over again. Looking up at her face to stare into her eyes, he let go of her bra, letting it fall to the floor. He slowly stepped back to appreciate her beauty.

Y/n’s cheeks flushed a deep crimson as she stood before him, vulnerable and exposed. Out of sheer instinct her arms raised to cross in front of her body in attempt to hide herself from the attention she was receiving.

Jack growled, “don’t you dare do that.” He let out an annoyed huff of air through his nostrils.

“You need to be comfortable in front of whoever you’re going to be fucking y/n” He had ahold of one of her arms moving it away from her body. “so let me see how beautiful you are.” Jack was holding eye contact with her so intently it was hard for her to not believe him when he called her beautiful. Jack was getting harder as every second passed. “You are beautiful. With clothes, without clothes. With make up, without make up. I don’t know why you’re doing this.”

He stepped closer to her, hand palming her neck to pull her to him. “Sweet girl, never cover up in front me like that again. Got it?” She nodded yes, he ran his hand down from her neck to her breast. His other hand tracing up her body to mimic his other. Her heart was racing under his palms. Jack kissed her neck, feeling her pulse beat faster and faster. He whispered into her ear, “Trust me, okay? I’ve got you.” Y/n nodded, unable to form coherent words. “If you need me to stop, or you want to stop just say so.” He reminds her, before continuing his pursuit of kisses down her neck.

Jack’s touch was feather-light yet firm, making her body quiver with every caress. He kissed her collarbone, then trailed his lips down to her breasts, flicking his tongue over her nipples. Y/n’s knees buckled slightly and she gripped the back of his neck to keep herself upright. He chuckled against her skin, enjoying her wholesome reactions. “You’re so sensitive already,” he murmured, and she felt a thrill of pleasure at his words. The vibrato of his voice adding a new sense of pleasure. “Just wait until my mouth is here babygirl.” He whispered while his lips still around the sensitive bud, moving his hand to cup over her clothed pussy. Y/n let out a surprised yelp earning a husky chuckle from Jack.

Jack began his journey of kisses down her stomach, his teeth grazing her skin ever so slightly, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake. He unbuttoned her pants and slid them down her legs, leaving her in just her panties. He paused for a moment, looking up at her with the ever pending question in his eyes. She nodded with her bottom lip pulled between her teeth, giving him the green light to proceed.

He hooked his fingers into the waistband of her underwear and tugged them down. Her legs trembled as the cool air hit her skin. He kissed and nibbled her inner thighs, moving closer to the sweet juncture of her legs.

Y/n’s breathing was heavy, her eyes half-closed in anticipation. Jack’s mouth was hot and wet on her, exploring every part of her with a gentle but insistent pressure. He licked, kissed, and nipped at her folds, teasing her clit with the tip of his tongue. She let out moan, her hands clasping over her mouth shocked at how loud she was. He looked up at her from where his mouth was lapping at her sensitive clit, a smirk playing on his lips.

She was driving him crazy, and she hadn’t done anything to him. Jack had never been a guy to be a fan of long sessions of oral, but for he could stay here all day to watch her reactions.

“Y/n, I’m going to have to stretch you out a little, so I’m going to use my fingers”

Her eyes hazed over in ecstasy she nodded in acknowledgment with a tiny okay slipping through her lips.

Jack pressed his middle finger in and returning his mouth back too. He continued his ministrations, bringing her closer and closer to the edge. She was pulsating against him by the time he added a second finger.

Her legs began to shake, and she could feel what she believed to be the beginnings of an orgasm building within her.

“Ja..Jack.” She whimpered, her fingers combed through his hair tightening just the slightest.

“I think?” Was the last two words she uttered before a loud moan over took her voice, her legs shaking led to her near collapse. Jack caught her and looked up at her with the biggest grin on his face.

Jack’s eyes met hers, and she could see the pride in them. He had never had someone come apart like that before, especially not from just his mouth and hands. He stood from the floor and kissed her deeply, y/n tasting herself on his lips.

She could feel his erection pressing against her. She reached down in an attempt to feel him.

“Not so fast baby girl. This is all about you, not about me.” Jack scolds grabbing her wondering hand and as he gently lays her on the bed, his body hovering over hers. Fumbling with his belt and button to his shorts he quickly stripped himself of his shorts. Y/N reaches for the hem of his shirt pulling it up and over his head.

Y/n could feel the heat radiating off of Jack’s body as he positioned himself between her legs. He kissed her neck, his hands exploring her body, like he was trying memorize her. His hand made its way to her still very senses core, his thumb circling her clit when he comes across it. Traveling lower he pumps his fingers in her a couple of more times. She was soaking wet, ready for him. He reached for the bedside drawer and pulled out a condom, rolling it on with surprising ease.

Slow Rowdy. More now so than before. Slow. Do not ruin our precious girl. Jack.

Jack was positioned at the entrance of her wet, sex but the resistance he met was not giving.

“Y/n? Hey, baby girl. You’ve got to relax for me.” Jack spoke softly and caressed her cheek. His heart lurching in his chest when a tear wiped away with his caress.

Her eyes fluttered open to meet his gaze, when his hand touched her cheek. He watched her closely, waiting for her nod of approval. When it came, Jack repositioned himself at her entrance, his tip teasing the wetness of her sex. He pushed in just a bit, watching her eyes widen before he retreated. “Relax, babygirl. If you’re sure you want this, It’ll be okay before you know it, I promise,” he murmured, trying to soothe her nerves.

He pushed in again, this time a little further. She gasped, her nails digging into his back. He stilled, giving her body time to adjust. He kissed her forehead, her nose, her cheeks, whispering words of comfort. Slowly, inch by inch, he entered her, her tightness gripping him like a vice. It took everything in him not to bottom out. He could feel her tense up, her muscles contracting around him, and he had to be so careful not to go too fast.

She was doing her best not to allow anymore tears to collect in her eyes, but the initial pain was beginning to get the better of her.

“Jacky, it hurts,” she whimpered, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jack stilled, his eyes filled with concern. He leaned down to kiss her gently, whispering, “do you want to stop? I’ll stop right now.” Jack held a hand to her cheek, running his thumb across her cheek bone.

“N, n, no.” Y/n stuttered over choked back tears.

Jack held in a sigh and instead nodded. “It’s okay sweet girl, I’ve got you. Just breathe, let your body get used to it.”

He waited patiently for her body to relax. Once her body relaxed everything else would follow. Y/n gave a small nod of approval to continue, Jack pushed in a little more. Her eyes squeezed shut, and she bit her bottom lip, but she didn’t protest.

With every shallow thrust, Jack felt the resistance in her body slowly give way to acceptance. He kept his pace torturously slow, making sure she felt every inch of him as he filled her up. He knew he was larger than average, and he didn’t want to cause her unnecessary pain. His hand found hers, intertwining their fingers, giving her something to squeeze as she adjusted to the new sensation.

When he saw her eyelids relax from the tight, closed grip she had held them in, and flutter open to be glossed over, he knew she was beginning to enjoy it.

“Feeling better sweet girl?” Jack whispered as he kissed along the shell of her left ear.

Y/n nodded, taking a deep breath to steady herself. The pain had subsided to a dull ache, and in its place was a growing sense of fullness and pleasure. Jack began to move more deliberately, his strokes becoming deeper and more forceful. She could feel herself stretching around him, her body slowly getting used to his size. With every thrust, the pleasure grew, mixing with the lingering discomfort until it was all she could focus on.

Her hips began to rock in sync with his movements, her body responding instinctively to the rhythm he set. She wrapped her legs around his waist, urging him closer, needing more of him. Jack groaned, his restraint slipping as he felt her tighten around him. He was losing himself in the girl he quietly loved. He increased his pace, his movements becoming more demanding. The sound of their skin slapping together filled the room, along with their ragged breaths and moans.

Jack’s hands roamed her body, gripping her hips as he drove into her with more urgency. He could feel her walls quivering around him, her orgasm approaching. He leaned down and captured her mouth again, swallowing her cries of pleasure. He knew he was close, too, the tension coiling in his lower abdomen, begging for release.

Y/n’s nails scored down his back, leaving trails of heat in their wake. She was lost in the sensation, her inexperience forgotten in the haze of both of their desire. She could feel another climax building, more intense than the first. Her body arched off the bed, her back bowing as Jack’s hips pistoned into her. He was relentless, pushing her to the brink of ecstasy and beyond.

Jack’s muscles were tight with the effort of holding back his own release, but he could feel her tightening around him, her body begging for more. He reached between them, finding her clit and rubbing it with the pad of his thumb. She bucked against him, her hips rising to meet his every thrust. The sight of her, lost in pleasure, was almost too much for him to handle.

“Y/n/n, baby you’re fucking perfect.” Jack was enamored with her and he couldn’t hide it now.

“Fuck, y/n/n I’m so close, if you keep tensing your pretty little pussy like that around me I’m going to cum soon.” He blabbers out before dropping his mouth to one of her nipples, the hand in between them still working her clit.

Jack’s thumb flicked and rolled her clit while his tongue flicked and rolled her nipple. She was lost in the waves of pleasure crashing through her body. The pain had been forgotten, replaced by the sweet agony of need. She was close, so close to the edge, and she didn’t want to fall without him.

“Jacky, I’m...I’m going to...” she panted, her eyes searching his for understanding.

“Come for me, baby,” he encouraged, his voice low and gruff with desire. “Let go, I’ve got you.”

Her eyes fluttered shut, and she let out his name in a scream of pleasure as she came apart in his arms, her tight pussy convulsing around him. Jack felt the walls of her pussy pulse and clench, and similarly to her with the drop of her name, he followed her over the edge. His orgasm ripping through him like lightning. He buried his face in her neck, his teeth grazing her skin as he pumped his load into the condom, his release hot and intense.

For a moment, they lay there, both panting heavily, their bodies entwined in a sticky mess of sweat and passion. The aftermath of their shared pleasure was a mix of euphoria and disbelief. Y/n’s mind was a whirlwind of sensations and emotions, but one thing was clear: she had never felt anything like this before. The sex or the new connection with Jack, that had a new feeling attached.

Jack carefully pulled out, his eyes never leaving hers. He removed the condom and disposed of it before coming back to lay beside her. He pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her forehead. She felt safe, cared for, and utterly satisfied in a way she hadn’t known was possible. Her hand slid down to rest on his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart beneath her palm.

Something she always does before they fall asleep, as if to signify his heart races around her too, when one of them sleeps at the other’s.

They lay there for a few moments, catching their breath and processing what had just happened. The room was silent except for the sound of their breathing and the occasional rustle of the sheets. Y/n couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sadness that it was over. She didn’t want this moment to end, but she knew it couldn’t last forever.

“Jack..I don’t want this to be a one time thing.” Y/n’s rushed out

“Sweet girl, if you wanted me all to yourself you should’ve just said so. You didn’t have to go this far. You didn’t have to use your virginity as an excuse to get closer to me.” Jack’s words were so softly spoken and held intense emotions. “For the record though, you’re not going anywhere now that you’ve said something. You’re my girl now.”

Y/n grinned at Jack. He kissed her forehead and pulled her close to him. “I wish we could have talked about this before I took the most valuable precious thing away from you, but I’m glad it was me and not some other asshat.”

“It’s always been you Jack, since we met at 17. Why would I ever let anyone else have a chance.”

Jack’s chest swelled with pride and affection, just like it did when they were 20 and he kissed her for the first during some silly party game. He had whispered those exact words to her after the kiss, he didn’t think she’d remember them with how drunk she was. “It’s always been you babygirl, since we met at 17. Why would I ever let anyone else have a chance?”

Back then he had never felt more connected to someone during a kiss and today he had never felt more connected to someone during sex than he did in that moment with y/n. He kissed her forehead again, feeling the happiest he had in a while.

read part 2 here

[odiesdayoff]

Kinktober: Tommy Shelby

Pair: Modern!Thomas Shelby x fem!reader

Summary: Your roommate's father doesn't approve of your vape.

Warning: Age Gap/Best friend's father/Dubious Consent/Tom makes reader get high

“I found it!” You yelled from across the dorm, your head poking out from behind the bed. Still partially stuck between the bed and the wall, you held up your strawberry-flavored weed pen to show Charlie. The amount of anxiety that losing it gave you was enough to realize that you and your roommate may have gotten a bit too reliant on the drug. 

You brought the pen to your mouth, but Charlie slapped it from your hand. “Dude, my family will be here in minutes! It can’t smell like Ganja Gooch in here.”

“What? You don’t have weed up in Birmingham?” You laughed. From what you knew about his family, they weren’t the most…clean cut people in the world. Why would they be upset over something so trivial as a weed pen? In your two years of being best friends with Charlie, you’d never met his parents. Only his Aunt Ada, who was sweet.

He placed the pen on your dresser. “Shut up. When are you parents coming?”

Most of the already small dorm room was covered in boxes, trash bags, and miscellaneous crap. “At 5. You’ll probably be moved out by then.” You pocketed the pen and began folding your bedding to shove it into the box it originally came in.

His phone started to ring. “That’s my mum. Are you sure you can’t go to Mary’s dorm?” You still weren’t sure of the reason that he was so cagey about his family. He had been to your house over Spring break this year and you were still in the dark.

“I have to finish packing.” It wasn’t a lie, you had put off packing until the final day. Studying for exams and final papers took up all of your free time. That and Mario Kart.

You knew that Charlie came from a rich family, but this was a new level that you haven't seen before. His father dressed like he was from the 1920’s or something, with a full suit and peaky cap. You could smell the cigarette smoke infused into his clothes before you could see him. 

His mother (or maybe step-mother, you weren’t sure) wore an elegant dress that was both fashionable and functional. Her deep brown hair was curled and pinned back. Her eyes lit up at the sight of you. “You must be the infamous Y/n!” She pulled you into a hug and you could smell her perfume mixed with a bit of her husband’s smoke. “You’re even prettier in person than in those silly Instagram photos Charlie posts.”

“It’s really lovely to meet you, Mrs. Shelby. I can’t believe we’ve been friends for so long and have never met before.” Charlie was still holding the door open for his little sister, Ruby, and didn’t hear your diss. 

She waved you off. “Call me Lizzie, dear. This is Thomas.” She pulled the sleeve of her husband and made him face you. He barely looked at you, though you did notice the way his eyes lowered down your body.

“I still don’t see why we had to be the ones to move Charles out, Lizzie. We can pay people for that.” Lizzie rolled her eyes. Why couldn’t he understand sentimentality and actually being present in the pivotal moments of his only son’s life? He only had one more year of university left. It was strange to hear him be called Charles. It felt all too fancy for someone so…normal. I suppose his father wouldn’t say the same. 

Lizzie scoffed. “Just start moving boxes, Tom.” She turned back to you. “So, where are you from?”

You decided to ignore Thomas. “Norwich.”

Charlie handed a smaller bag to Ruby while Thomas took a storage container. He pulled out his ID and opened the front door for the three of them. “The elevator’s already broken, so it’s lucky we’re on the first floor.”

~~

Having Charlie’s side of the room empty was a surreal sight. So many memories that were made in the room were basically erased at this point.

You took the pen and opened a window, taking it in and blowing it out the window. “And here I thought you were little miss sunshine.” You began to cough and gasp for fresh air at the sudden voice. Turning around, you locked eyes not with Charlie, but with his father.

Smoke billowed from your mouth. “Mr. Shelby- I…thought you all had left.” You rasped out the words, reaching for a water bottle to try and soothe your throat. He smirked at your attempt to hide your distress.

“My wife left her purse. I see you didn’t waste a second with your…” He snatched the pen from your hand. “What is this? Can’t you get real weed here?”

“It’s easier to manage. And rechargeable.” He examined the pen, shaking his head. He brought the pen to his lips and took a hit. The smoke left his mouth in a way you’d never seen before. It was skilled, he didn’t even cough. It formed into rings that blew in your direction. 

“Can barely taste it. How much weed is actually in this?” He examines the pen, and then his glance shifts towards you. "I bet you can barely take it, yeah?"

You rolled your eyes. "I'm not that intolerant. I've been high before."

He tosses it to you. "Suck in until it blinks."

It was a bit of a surprise that he knew what a blinker even was. He seemed like the type to exclusively use one brand of cigarettes since he was a teenager. As if he'd step foot in one of the fancy dispensaries you and Charlie were used to.

You maintained eye contact as you put the tip of the pen in your mouth and began to suck the flavored smoke from it. It took only a few seconds for it to blink and you could finally exhale. It was as if your lungs had never touched oxygen before. They screamed at you to cough, but you didn't want to prove him right.

"Another." He ordered, taking a small step closer. You weren't sure if he was getting taller or if it was just a mix of weed and perspective.

The vape was already hot as you rested it on your bottom lip. You breathed in again, holding it until it blinked. The taste was much worse and the sting against your throat felt like fresh salt in an open wound.

You coughed, only once. Typically, it took you much longer to feel the instant effects of the drug, but you could feel your hands already trembling under the eye of Thomas.

He nodded, finally close enough to put his calloused hands on the soft skin of your waist. "Again."

Something about his gaze and the absolution in his voice made it impossible for you to deny what he wanted. Your shaky hand held the vape up and you sucked.

His slightly chapped lips pressed against yours once you took the pen from your mouth. All of the smoke leaving your system funneled into his. You couldn't deny the way his contact made your knees weak and thighs squeeze together.

The weed was taking effect rapidly. Your head was spinning as you tried to focus on him. His lips traveled from your lips to your cheek to your ear. "Tell me, have you and Charles ever had sex?"

The words briefly brought you out of the weed and lust-driven stupor. You shook your head. "No...we're just friends."

He laughed. "Are you gay?" You denied. "Is he gay?" Again, you denied. "How has he not ever taken the chance to bed you?"

You could barely answer. His hand trailed up your leg and under your thin dress. Nothing could hide the heat that emanated from between your legs.

His free hand took the vape from yours and pressed it against your lips. Instinctively, you took a deep breath in, letting the smoke fill your aching lungs once again. "Is it because you're a virgin? Or maybe...you have an affinity for older men?"

You nearly stopped feeling the warmth of his hand on your leg until he pressed his fingers against the now-damp fabric of your panties. It was humiliating how much he turned you on...and how much the feeling of being humiliated by him turned you on even more.

"Mr. Shelby.." You coughed out, your throat sore and stinging with each syllable. As much as you wanted to scream at him to actually touch you, it would be too much to say at once.

Thomas Shelby wasn't a mind-reader, but he could read when a woman wanted him. He slipped his fingers underneath your panties and pushed into you. Your slick cunt welcomed him in without resistance at all. "Want me to stop? Leaving you high and horny while I go back to my wife and children?"

You shook your head no, silently pleading for him to do something over then idly have his fingers knuckle-deep within you. He curled his fingers, hitting the spots that your own hand couldn't reach if you tried, and moaned into his shoulder.

"Take another and I'll keep giving you what you want." Dazed, you sucked more from the pen. It was far more than you were used to, especially in such a short amount of time. Your legs threatened to give out, for multiple reasons.

"Please..." Your fingers lightly caressed his pants. It had been a while since you had anyone touch you, let alone someone like him.

He got the idea, pulled his hand away, and quickly freed himself from the confines of his trousers. There were condoms somewhere in this room, hidden in one of the boxes so your family wouldn't see that you even thought about something as evil as sex.

There wasn't time to look. You needed him now and it was only a matter of time before Charlie and the rest of them got suspicious. You pulled your panties down to your ankles and allowed his knee to settle between your trembling legs.

His lips trailed against your ear. "I'm going to show you a real high."