#but this is what we got to work with so here you go?

[docholligay]

So for all of you who think nothing matters:

We have a local, I guess I'll call it an events complex. It's where concerts and the fair go. It's owned by the city.

When Trump started the whole ICE thing, our commissioner sent a letter to the local representatives, telling them they could use it as a detention center for illegal immigrants. Our event center. Where the 4H kids show their fuckin' lambs.

"The fuck you will" was the resounding reply.

So, when I talk about coalition-building, and working with people you do not agree with or maybe even like, this is what I'm talking about. There was an immediate and vocal show of disapproval, from all sides. We all contacted people we knew would dislike this, REGARDLESS OF HOW THEY FELT ABOUT ANYTHING ELSE. The meeting was packed with people yelling at the commissioners. Of all political stripes. Republican, Democrat, Libertarian, Prairie Populist, Independent.

Some were, of course, the tumblr-style arguments about inherent humanity, but--I think more compellingly if you're actually trying to put the pressure on--there were questions of, 'How are we gonna get paid?" "Are you aware of how, as the only event center for more than two hours, much fuckin money this brings into the community? ANd that immigrants of all types make up less than 2% of the population of the entire state?(my argument), "Do we trust the government to pay us?", "Isn't there a fuckin' empty prison in [town about an hour from here]? Are you just being a kiss-ass?' (offered up by a man I know to be very conservative indeed. BUT HE DID NOT WANT OUR SPACE USED FOR THIS) and, an argument that was so good I was infuriated I didn't come up with it, "DO you think the bank is gonna want to be known as the sponsor of "National bank Detention Center?" (Which caught on and the bank had to offer up a letter saying how they hoped the commissioners would use the event center as intended.)

They folded. A letter came out a few days ago from the manager of the event center, saying it was decided that the events center would rescind the offer, as "more acceptable alternatives could be found." They blinked.

That's the thing. All that happened is that a bunch of people got mad an went to ONE TWO HOUR MEETING. It changed everything.

SHOW. UP.

[hamilando]

Could you do a Lando x reader SMAU where he has been soft-launching a relationship for months, and one day when a normal photo is uploaded on Instagram, the fans see that he's not wearing his "regular" watch. Still, the watch he's wearing looks like the one his friend regularly wears daily, and that's how their relationship gets discovered.

I'm sorry if this is confusing, but I hope you'll be able to make this. love all of your work. <3<3<3

ੈ✩ black watch (smau) ੈ✩

pairing : lando norris x reader

tw : fluff

fc : Laufey

a/n : I hope the person who requested this likes it ! I don’t know if the plot was according to your liking but I tried my best!! Hope you like it !

·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ

liked by lando, user1, user2 and 45,276 others

laufeyn obsessed with 🕰️

view comments

lando that’s why you are broke.

lando I am not paying for your matcha anymore

laufeyn I guess your mum needs the Ibiza trip deets

lando how many match do you want ?

user1 I LOVE HOW LANDO IS THE FIRST ONE TO COMMENT

user2 are we sure they are just besties?

user3 pfft, waiting for the engagement

user4 paragraph guy ?

user5 no paragraph guy, just look at their posts and comments

liked by user1, user2, user3 and 256,376 others

mclaren back for the season 💪🏻

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user1 I have never seen lando without a watch -

user2 atp, he even bathes with one -

user3 he just casually roams around with half a million on his wrist

user4 landoscar are soo cute

user5 we want 2025 to be papaya year as well

user6 ugh, lando wdc

user7 Y/N WE NEED MORE LANDO BITS

user8 I swear yn and lily are so cute together

user9 yn yaps while lily listens

user10 poor lily has no option

liked by lando, user1, user2 and 54,276 others

laufeyn do you even read ?

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user1 HERE BEFORE LANDO

lando no. I was liking

user2 oh god, lando really is jobless

user3 why is he chronically active 24*7

user4 I swear McLaren needs to get lando a social media manager

user5 HE IS STILL WEARING THE WATCH !?

user6 how does he manage to show his watch in every single picture

oscarpiastri kindly tell him to not eat the donuts, he has a race in 2 weeks

Laufeyn dw, he is only here for the wallet purpose

liked by user1, user2 and 732,387 others

lando these two are going to empty my wallet

view comments

laufeyn I have bestie rights

carlossainz I have ex teammate right

lando MATE YOU HAVE ALEX !

carlossainz I have being your husband right

lando MATE YOU HAVE REBECCA !

lando DO YOU EVEN KNOW MATCHA COSTS LIKE 40 POUNDS !?

charlesleclerc you straight up got scammed, Alex drinks it, it’s at most 15 pounds

lando @ laufeyn

laufeyn I NEEDED BOOKS!

lando WHY MY WALLET ! YOU EARN MONEY! YOU LITTLE ROTTEN GREEN SAUSAGE !

maxverstappen1 that’s the most British thing I have heard

georgerussell can confirm, that’s not British, it’s lando

comments on this post have been restricted

liked by user1,user2 and 1,563,583 others

f1gossipofficial it was noticed by some lando fans that he has not been wearing his infamous black Richard Mille watch but rather a watch which was earlier posted by his close friend, @ laufeyn. Could there by any dating rumours ?

view comments

user1 THE SHIP SAILEEEDDDDD

user2 AHHHHHH

user3 I KNEW IT LIKE YEARS AGO !

user4 I wear like lando ditched his luck charm, for another luck charm

user5 “I would like to win a race for yn”

user6 FRIENDS TO LOVER, THE BEST TROPE

user7 JUST CONFIRM ALREADY !

user8 lando buying books 🤭

user9 atp, lando buys yn everything

user10 girlfriend privileges 😩

liked by laufeyn, user1 and 2,486,537 others

lando what watch? I can’t stop looking at her 😌

comments on this post have been turned off

let me know if you want to be added or removed to the tg!

permanent tg: @isotopemylove @chair-things @justaf1girl @nichmeddar @bibblemiluvr @blushmimi @nikfigueiredo @amz824 @ivegotparticulartaste @raizelchrysanderoctavius @freyathehuntress @piastri-fvx @sadiemack9 @ilivbullyingjeongin @cherry-piee @luvleylisen @sweate-r-weathe-r @jxnellat @loveofmylife12 @budgetcupid @lilaissa @scorpiodiosa @wondergirl101ks @nichmeddar @hoeforlifee @urfavnoirette @lily-ann-b @okcurran @miniboast @teti-menchon0604 @motorsportloverf1 @formula1-motogpfan

[p0orbaby]

Like can we pls pls pls pls pls get a smut where Reader sees alexias new photos for nike (though she had shown to reader some they did had the edit the impact you know) reader getting all hot and bothered and jumps on alexia qhen she gets home like do it everything with me

it’s not smut because i’ve got to save some material for bitter sweet

shameless plug

-

The day is, for the most part, unremarkable.

You wake up at 07:26, which is two minutes before your alarm, which is irritating because you could have had those two minutes. You stare at the ceiling for a moment, assessing your bodily functions—slight stiffness in your neck from the way you slept, residual warmth from the duvet, a faint need to pee but not urgent enough to act on. Alexia is still asleep next to you, her breathing slow and deep. There’s a dent in the pillow from where she’s been lying, a strand of hair curling across her cheek. You could stay here, watch her, but then your alarm does go off, and reality intrudes.

You shower, make coffee, scroll absentmindedly through your phone, thumb moving in automatic, practised motions. You see the photos at exactly 08:02.

And that’s when everything changes.

At first, your brain doesn’t fully register what you’re looking at. There’s a moment of lag, like a buffering screen, a stutter in your synapses. Then the full weight of it hits, and it’s like being smacked in the face with a sledgehammer. A very attractive, well-lit sledgehammer.

It’s Alexia. Obviously, it’s Alexia. But it’s Nike Alexia.

Sweaty. Flexing. Half-naked.

Her abs look like they’ve been sculpted by the gods. Her arms—veins subtly pronounced, muscles taut, defined—are a work of art. There’s a slight sheen of sweat on her skin, catching the light in a way that feels almost… obscene. Her gaze is focused, intense, fixed down the lense, like she’s contemplating the meaning of life but also potentially about to fight someone.

You stare. Then you blink. Then you stare again.

Something warm pools low in your stomach, and your grip on your phone tightens. You have seen Alexia naked. Repeatedly. You live together. You have firsthand knowledge—intimate, detailed knowledge—of every inch of her body. And yet, somehow, these photos manage to feel like a personal attack.

Your first thought is: How dare she?

Your second thought is: I need to sit down.

Which you do, heavily, onto one of the kitchen stools. Your coffee is abandoned, cooling rapidly. The world outside continues as normal—birds chirping, distant traffic noise, the faint hum of the fridge—but your internal landscape has been irrevocably altered.

You should say something. React. But words fail you, so instead, you just keep staring, swiping through the photos in what can only be described as a state of near-religious awe. You don’t even realise you’re making a noise—somewhere between a sigh and a groan—until you hear movement behind you.

Then, her voice, still thick with sleep.

“What are you looking at?”

Your soul leaves your body.

You exit out of the app too quickly, fumbling with your phone like a guilty teenager caught watching something they shouldn’t be. Which is ridiculous. You are an adult. You are in a committed relationship with this woman. There is no reason for you to be acting like this.

And yet.

“Nothing,” you say, entirely unconvincing.

Alexia pads barefoot into the kitchen, wearing one of your T-shirts, her hair slightly messy. She yawns, stretching, and your eyes immediately zero in on the movement, the flex of muscle beneath skin. It is unfair that she looks this good first thing in the morning. Unethical, even.

She squints at you, then at your phone. “Why do you look like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like you’ve seen God.”

You take a slow, steadying breath.

“Not God,” you say. “Just Nike’s new campaign.”

She blinks. Then, the smirk starts, slow and knowing. “Ah.”

“Don’t ah me,” you say, pointing accusingly. “This is your fault.”

“My fault?” She moves to the fridge, retrieving the orange juice. “I didn’t do anything.”

“You posed.”

She laughs, pouring herself a glass. “I did.”

“You flexed.”

“I did.”

“You—” You gesture vaguely, helplessly. “You glistened.”

She tilts her head, amused. “That’s usually what happens when you’re sweating.”

“I don’t sweat like that,” you say, almost mournful. “I sweat like a normal person. You sweat like—like—” You pause, struggling to find the words. “Like a Nike advert.”

Alexia sips her juice, looking infuriatingly pleased with herself. “That’s convenient.”

You exhale sharply, dropping your head onto the counter. “I need help.”

“Probably.”

Silence stretches. You can feel her eyes on you, can hear the faint clink of her glass as she sets it down. Then, her voice, softer now, but with an unmistakable thread of amusement.

“Do you want me to sign one for you?”

Your head snaps up. “What?”

She gestures toward your phone. “A print. I can sign it for you. Make it personal.”

You gape at her, scandalised. “Do I look like the kind of person who would have a signed picture of their girlfriend?”

“Yes.”

“I wouldn’t.”

“You have my old Barça jersey framed.”

“That’s different.”

“How?”

“It’s—” You flounder. “It’s memorabilia. Historic.”

She raises an eyebrow. “So these pictures aren’t historic?”

“Not unless I drop dead from looking at them,” you mutter.

Alexia grins. “Want me to flex for you right now?”

You make a noise that is neither dignified nor human.

Alexia laughs. It’s light, teasing, but there’s something else behind it, something knowing. She closes the small distance between you, leans in, voice low.

“You’re blushing.”

“I’m not,” you lie.

Her hand brushes your arm, slow, deliberate. “You are.”

You swallow. Your mouth is dry. Your heart rate is—scientifically speaking—fucked.

This is fine. This is manageable.

Then, she actually flexes.

And you black out.

Metaphorically.

Mostly.

[00valentina-writes00]

GIRL LISTEN- this request is...strange kind of but bear with me.

What if we got sevika, ambessa AAND grayson (yes all together) x reader where they all pleasure the reader (maybe each other too?) I don't know I just can't get it put of my mind, I always see sevika x ambessa x reader and think to myself "gosh if only grayson was added in there too..."

ANYWAYS THE YOUR WORKS ARE JUST PERFECT ILY💌💗🎀

(Thank you for asking this)

♡♥︎Triple threat♥︎♡

Warnings: Fingering, strap on sex, rough sex, throat fucking, being passed around between Grayson, ambessa and Sevika.

You’re not sure how you ended up here—naked, drenched in sweat, spread out between three of the most powerful women in Noxus, Piltover, and Zaun.

Ambessa, Grayson, and Sevika. They don’t just want you; they own you, passing you between them like a prize, keeping you flushed and trembling, body wrecked with pleasure.

Grayson is the first to have you, holding you down with firm, calloused hands as she sinks two thick fingers inside you. She’s slow, methodical, taking her time stretching you open, whispering quiet praises against your ear.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” she murmurs, curling her fingers just right, pressing against that spot that makes your back arch. “So perfect when you take my fingers.

Ambessa watches from the other side of the bed, stroking herself—her massive strap slick with lube, waiting for its turn.

“She’s handling you well,” the general comments, voice thick with hunger. “But let’s see how she takes something bigger.”

Grayson smirks, but before she pulls away, she leans in, pressing a slow, teasing kiss to your lips. “Don’t keep her waiting, sweetheart.”

Then Ambessa is behind you, her hands dwarfing your waist as she lifts your hips, lining the thick head of her strap against your dripping cunt.

“Relax,” she coos, dragging the tip through your slick before pushing in slow, forcing you to stretch around her. “You can take it.”

You sob, body trembling as she sinks in deeper, splitting you open inch by inch. Her sheer size alone is overwhelming, filling you up until you’re shaking.

Sevika clicks her tongue from where she’s kneeling in front of you, the head of her own strap tapping against your cheek. “C’mon, baby,” she drawls, gripping your chin. “Suck.”

Your mouth is already watering as you part your lips, letting her ease the thick length past your tongue. She doesn’t force it—yet. Just lets you get used to the stretch before guiding more inside, groaning when you start to hollow your cheeks.

“Fuck,” Sevika hisses, eyes dark as she watches you work. “So pretty with your mouth full.”

Ambessa’s pace picks up, slamming into you hard enough to jolt your body forward, forcing more of Sevika’s strap into your throat. You gag, eyes rolling back, body overwhelmed from every angle.

Grayson, not content to just watch, moves beside you, pressing a soft kiss against your temple before her fingers find your clit again, rubbing slow, lazy circles.

“Think you can cum for us, sweetheart?” she whispers, voice warm, coaxing. “Be a good girl and soak Ambessa’s cock?”

You’re already there, body locking up, vision going white as the pleasure overtakes you. You sob around Sevika’s strap, thighs shaking as you clench around Ambessa’s cock, coming so hard your body collapses into the sheets.

They don’t stop.

Sevika chuckles, pulling out of your mouth to let you breathe. “Not done yet, baby,” she purrs, wiping a tear from your cheek.

Ambessa pulls out slowly, watching the way you drip down your thighs. “You can still take more.”

Grayson presses another kiss against your jaw, voice like velvet. “Let’s see just how many times we can make you cum”

[cuprohastes]

My theory is were just looking in the wrong way.

The Drake equation (which is shear bullshit and actually the results of a bunch of people who didn't know what the fuck they were talking about doing a bunch of drugs) suggests that there are hundreds of thousands of civilisations out there, all pumping out massive amounts of radio.

If you update it to use the numbers that we now consider more true, the Drake equation indicates that there is less than one technological civilisation in the galaxy.

Yeah. It doesn't even count us.

Partly because it assumes that everybody is going to use radio in a really terrible unshielded way for tens of thousands of years at a time.

As opposed to a couple of hundred years and then everybody discovers fibre optic, Optronics, quantum teleportation of data, or slood.

So there's potentially evidence of alien civilisations that are out there who hit technologically proficient levels millions of years ago, or thousands or hundreds or they're just getting around to it, but we weren't looking at them for the tiny amount of time when they were radiating signals that we could understand.

And even if we could what would we do? Send them a message saying hey here we are one plus one equals two look a repeating pattern. And they won't get it for 250 years.

Great, that's it. We can't have a conversation with them. We're not going to go hang out and swap stories. We're not going to be able to ask them if they've got any neat technology.

Traditionally people have come up with fantastic, brilliant amazing and genius ideas for easy ways to communicate with alien life forms. And then they roll it out to the other people in their field and none of them can work out what the hell the message was.

So I don't think we're alone, I think it's just increasingly unlikely that anybody out there is able to hear us and if they could, there is no way for us to communicate with them.

I low-key love the fact that sci-fi has so conditioned us to expect to be hanging out with a bunch of cool space aliens, that legitimate, actual scientists keep proposing the most bizarre, three-blunts-into-the-rotation "theories" to explain the fact we're not.

Some of my favourites include:

Zoo Theory: What if there are loads of aliens out there, but they're not talking to us because of the Prime Directive from Star Trek? (Or because they're doing experiments on us???)

Dark Forest Theory: What if there are loads of aliens out there, but they all hate us and each other so they're all just waiting with a shotgun pointed at the door, ready to open fire on anything that moves?

Planetarium Theory: What if there's at least one alien with mastery over light and matter that's just making it seem to us that the universe is empty to us as, like, a joke?

Berserker Theory: What if there were loads of aliens, but one of them made infinite killer robots that murdered everyone and are coming for us next?!!

Like, the universe is at least 13,700,000,000 years old and 46,000,000,000 light years big. We have had the ability to transmit and receive signals for, what, 100 years, and our signals have so far travelled 200 light years?

The fact is biological life almost certainly has, does, or will develop elsewhere in the universe, and it's not impossible that a tiny amount of it has, does, or will develop in a way that we would understand as "intelligent". But, like, we're realistically never going to know because of the scale of the things involved.

So I'm proposing my own hypothesis. I call it the "Fool in a Field" hypothesis. It goes like this:

Humanity is a guy standing in the middle of a field at midnight. It's pitch black, he can't move, and he's been standing there for ages. He's just had the thought to swing his arms. He swings one of his arms, once, and does not hit another person. "Oh no!" He says. "Robots have killed them all!"

[mewhenimanangel]

need that, hamzahthefantastic

prev pt 3*

—synopsis. hamzah invites you over to be in their new video

—warnings!: freaky uti, dry humping, undressing

notes 🫧: the fight was so tuff, i’m a die hard noob

—🐞

you parked your car outside hamzah’s house, fixing your lip gloss and zipping up your sweater before going to knock on his door.

him and martin invited you to be in one of their sims videos since mandy was on vacation and they knew you played as well.

it’s been around two weeks since you and hamzah made out in his car. since then, you’d been texting a lot more and you hung out twice with mandy and martin. though, you haven’t done anything to continue what he started.

hamzah answered the door with a grin, “come on in boi, we haven’t started playing yet. martin’s still connecting the camera and the mic” he closed the door behind you.

you felt something brush against your leg, looking down to see his cat rubbing itself on your leg. “awwww he’s so cute” you reached down to see if he’d let you pick him up.

when he did you held him in your arms and rubbed behind its ear. “which one is this?” you asked hamzah. “this is blue. red’s probably upstairs somewhere clawing at something.” he said, reaching over your arm to pet blue.

“i had to put a child lock on my fridge cause they figured out how to open it bruh” he shook his head.

you giggled looking at him with a smile.

“oh hey y/n, didn’t know you were here already. i just finished setting up the camera” martin said. “heyy” you put blue down on the floor, following martin.

“you ready to get your sims on?” he asked. “try freaking born ready” you giggled, hamzah following behind you.

you sat off to the side on the couch in hamzah’s office while they started the video. “hello everynyan-” hamzah interrupted him “dude what” “it’s like a meme like have you ever seen it? it’s like oh my gahhh” martin awkwardly repeated the video, hamzah stifling a laugh. “anyways we’re back and better than frigging ever” martin started off.

“now it has been a while-“ “definitely been a while-“ “right, a while since our regularly scheduled programming” hamzah said. “i hope you guys enjoyed the fight, we worked super hard literally for like six months”

“and you may realize we’re not in our usual spot, wanna tell them why that is?” martin said. “yes we are, we’re in my house this time because mandy’s on vacation and martin, feeling like a sad little lonely boy wanted to come over and play with me”

“yes mandy is gone. she is in spain right now because she doesn’t love me anymore. you know what they say, ‘go to spain when your lover’s a pain’. that’s why she hasn’t proposed to me yet in the big year of twenty twenty-five” martin went on. “literally nobody says that”

“but speaking of mandy, today we’re playing the sims. something we haven’t done in a long time and we need a little bit of a refresher” “yes, the sims is a girl game and since we don’t have mandy, we brought back up” hamzah added.

“yes, we obviously cannot play this game ourselves so we brought in another expert” they looked at each other before counting down from 3 and snapping their fingers. you knew they were gonna put some silly transition effect over this.

hamzah got up to get another chair for you “you good?” he asked you, making sure you were comfortable. and you nod your head before sitting between them. “hellurr. yes i am mandy’s back up today. because obviously, they don’t know what they’re doing so im taking over.”

“dude what is it with girls and the sims. only girls know how to play the sims” martin and hamzah riffed while you logged into your sims account.

“now this is your first time on here y/n, how do you feel in the presence of such greatness” martin asked. “well im honored to be on but i don’t know about ‘greatness’” you joked.

after two hours of creating sims and making them kill, cheat, fornicate, and find love, they ended the video. “banger video alert” hamzah turned the computer off. “uhh yeah that was really good if i do say so myself.” you pat yourself on the back.

the three of you lounged around hamzah’s living room for another hour after that. “are you guys hungry?” hamzah asked “i was gonna order some food” “actually i still have some packing to do for my flight tomorrow” martin sighed while playing with red. “oh shit right, i forgot” hamzah shrugged.

“i’m gonna head out now bro i’ll see you next week” he dapped hamzah up before doing the same to you. hamzah followed him out before closing the door behind him.

“i could eat” you shrugged and hamzah smiled. he pulled his phone out and ordered chick-fil-a, adding in your order.

you sat criss crossed on his couch as blue jumped into your lap, snuggling up against you and purring. “his ass definitely likes you” hamzah chuckled.

“do you want one?” he asked, coming back from his bedroom with a little jar of edibles. “sure” you reached to grab one with your nails.

hamzah grabbed one too and you tapped them together in a ‘cheers’ motion before eating them.

you soured your face and gagged “okay these are nasty oh my god” you laughed. “yeah they taste like butt but they do the job. the food should be here in like twenty minutes” he said, joining you on the couch.

you helped him review the footage from the video before he sent it to their editor. by now the edible was beginning to kick in and you were growing hungrier by the minute. his door bell rung and he got up to answer the door.

he came back holding the bags of food up with a smile on his face and plopped down onto the couch, this time much closer to you, legs and arms touching.

“fuck i’m starving. is that shit kicking in for you yet?” he asked, handing you your sandwich and fries. “oh it is” you grinned.

“have you ever had the mac and cheese?” he asked you. “no i usually go for the fries” “okay here you gotta try it.” he took some on his fork and put it in front of your mouth, paying close attention to the way your lips wrapped around the fork. “right?” he nod his head at your reaction.

“wait here, you’ve got some cheese on your mouth” he said, brushing your lip off with a napkin. “oh..oops” you giggled through your slowed words.

the two of you tore through your food, turning on family guy in the background. “that was so fucking good” you looked at him, eyes low and red.

“right…..i’m stuffed.” you slowly sipped on your milkshake. “do you ever think about what they do with the cut out pieces of fries?” you asked, just chatting. “i always wonder but they probably just throw them away.” he added.

you leaned back into the couch, cross legged, knee resting atop of hamzah’s as he put his arm on the back of the chair behind you.

he slowly rubbed your bare shoulder that peeked from under your hoodie that was falling off. you leaned your head back, resting it on his arm before looking at him.

“so, are we just never gonna talk about it again?” you addressed the elephant in the room. “hm?” he looked at you. “the kiss, are we just gonna act like it didn’t happen?”

“no of course not, i just wasn’t sure if i had made you uncomfortable so i didn’t wanna push anything again” he shrugged. “hamzah i kissed you back for a reason. i wanted it” you reassured. “and i still do” you said, looking away for a second.

he grabbed your chin, turning your face back to his before kissing you. you leaned into the kiss, rubbing your nails at the back of his neck.

the room filled with your mutual satisfied sounds, hamzah pushing his hand up under your sweater. he laid you down against the couch arm, keeping himself steady atop of you.

he slowly pulled the zip down, taking off your sweater off, you willed yourself to follow his lead, wrapping your arms around him. he broke the kiss, “you good, right?” he asked. “yeah, keep going. i want you, hamzah” you reassured. he kissed you again before lining kisses down your jawline and throat. he sucked down on your skin “wait don’t leave any hickeys” you said through a moan.

“too late” he let out a breathy laugh, making you giggle. hamzah let out a soft noise at the feeling of your nails rubbing through his hair. he slowly eased his up under your tank top, reaching up he grabbed a handful of bra. “here, hang on” you sat up, taking off your shirt and throwing it by your sweater. you fiddled with your bra clasp and eased the straps off your shoulders, letting your boobs rest.

hamzah stared at them, mouth agape. “that was a push up bra by the way, so don’t be too disappointed” you joked. “how would i be disappointed. you’re fucking hot” he pulled you atop of him and kissed you, hands firm on your ass.

he kissed down the middle of your chest before his mouth latched on. you sighed in satisfaction when he rolled his tongue.

you subconsciously grinded your hips on his, feeling him grow. “fuck” you winced. you stayed in that position for a while, dry humping each other as he kissed and sucked all over your upper body. you felt yourself getting needier by the minute. “hamzah-“ you started before being interrupted by a knocking on the door. “dude let me in, i forgot my wallet” it was martin.

you looked at hamzah before getting up. he kissed you “go to my bedroom, i’ll be there in a second” he told you and you smirked before leaving the room.

hamzah let him in “ugh thank you, i was worried you fell asleep” martin said, spotting his wallet on the side table.

hamzah looked over his shoulder realizing your shirt and bra were still thrown around on the couch. “imagine i went all the way to spain and forgot this just sitting here” martin chuckled before turning around, hamzah missing the chance to let him not to.

“oou you got chick-fil-a? anything left?” he looked inside a bag before he came face to face with your bra. he turned around, jaw dropped “dude!” he gasped and hamzah grinned.

lvryn

Liked by hamzahthefantasfic, clairedrakee and others

lvryn alright who pressed fast forward on my weekend 😂

mandys_iphone cute

user HELLO? is this a soft launch?????

ynlover omg this and how touchy they were in the sims video last month, they’re definitely dating ?)!(!;$:

— 🐞 the end

[rebelssvy]

kiss it better. ✧.*

bakugo x reader ·˚ ༘

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

summary: making out with hot frat boy baku at a collage party, in a closet. no sex or heavy petting, just really hot making out and lots of dirty talk.

thinking about, frat boy bakugo. despite all your efforts to not be here, your new roommates dragged you to this party. you had zero interest being here and zero intention flirting with anyone that came your way. sexually frustrated and maybe a little tipsy wasn’t a willing combo for you. it wasn’t until you bumped into a sweaty back that left you cursing under your breath. what shocked you more was the response you got in return. a line of curses that had your mouth wide open. this guy messed with the wrong girl and that was for- fucking sure.

“excuse me?” you said craning your neck up to the guy, tapping him on his shoulder to make him face you.

“you got a fucking problem?” the sassy blonde replied to you, now fully aware of your presence. turned around facing you, arms crossed in anger.

“your my fucking problem asshole.” mocking him with each syllable, you stocked towards him. you were at a physical disadvantage but that wasn’t stopping you. no, not when this guy is making you already bad night, worse.

without another word you were now being dragged through the halls, brushing up against people against your will. this random man had you in his grip, tight but not loose enough for you to slip through his fingers. if you wanted to you could’ve fought your way out of his hands, but a part of you wanted to see where this lead. notices in his handsome face and muscular tone when he turned around. this was a battle worth fighting.

the hard surface of the door against your back brought you back from your imagination, he had you cornered in this random room. wait. it was closer to a closet. you really didn’t have anywhere to go. his huge frame trapped you, you now got a better look at him. you realized you weren’t gonna run anyways he was just to gorgeous.

breaking the silence, he started-“listen, i’m not gonna let some pretty random girl ruin my party.” you gasped at his words, they were simple, but his tone was harsh. “so when we leave this closet your not gonna be out there looking so upset. your gonna act like your having a good time. got it?” he finished.

“you think i’m pretty?” you asked toying with him. the scowl on his face seemed permanent.

he tugged at his shirt collard, clearing his throat before saying, “yeah but it doesn’t matter how pretty you are with your fuck ass attitude.” you laughed in his face as a reply.

“you think i have a bad attitude? fuck off, you are clearly so much worse then me!” you said through giggles.

“just shut up oh my fucking god.” he groaned while his hand flew to his hair.

“make me.” you pushed yourself up, onto your tippy toes. testing him to see what type of guy he was you flushed at your own behavior.

without another word, his hand found the back of your neck and you were pulled against the man in front of you. his lips finding yours with fastness. the kiss was rough, teeth clinking against each other. you gasped when you felt his hand move from his spot on your neck, to its new position on your waist. pulling your body harder against him your lips now worked in rhythm, the harshness was now seductive. sloppy and wet.

slowly, he parted away from your lips, his hands never leaving your body. you grabbed onto his shoulders for balance. slightly lightheaded as you stumbled back.

“you could be a problem for me.” he said through hot breaths, himself also regaining composure.

“oh really tough guy?” before you could laugh farther, he silenced your laughing in his face buy laying his lips back on yours once again.

“stop arguing with me like a good girl and be fucking quiet.” he mumbled against your lips, his words making your mouth part. his tongue ventured into the new space taking the opportunity to catch you off guard. the two of you getting very hot and bothered now, fighting for dominance.

dry humping each other you caught his groans in your mouth. pulling apart he moved away from you slowly.

through rushed breaths, he said “if you feel the same way i feel about you meet me upstairs in five minutes. room 12, it’s my room.”

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:··:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:··:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

thinking bout a hot HOT part two.

the part two is up!!! check out my master list

[that-weird-thing-in-the-woods]

~{ Ohhhhh, you got the brain cell going and I can’t stop it so you get this :) }~

So what I’m thinking is for Danny to be Bob in this situation

Let me explain so when I say Bob I mean the fea manger from the Cafea Latte and if you want to check it out look it up on YouTube and it’s done by C.M Alongi [And if you want to add Dani in this you can make her Cyrus in this but as Danny’s daughter instead of his ward simply because it would be funny as fuck lol].

And that’s really what I’m thinking for the DP side of this but for the DC side (Or well really the Batfam side of this) is like that one post where the Batfam think Danny is selling drugs or something like that and go undercover to check it out and or do something about it, I can’t find the post for the life of me but if I do I’ll put the link. So I’m just gonna take the Batfam getting suspicious and going undercover but why they are is really up to the writer. Oh and add some of the street kids working as delivery kids, I like that part :).

So we have a, Fea like Danny [who acts chill as fuck], the regular chaotic as shit Dani who is also Fea like but the weirder part of them and the Batfam losing there shit over them and what there here for.

And Bobs Ex-vampire boyfriend named Vlad….well we have to do good (Bad for the DC hearts) the DC x DP misunderstanding :).

~{ Yeah so that’s it for now so this should hold you feral gremlins off for a bit before I go back to not having the brain cells anyway byeeeee }~

Danny is a Fae at Starbucks

So! Danny works by Fae Rules, Names and all, but he has no idea about that because he was forced to run away from Home (and the Ghost portal) before his Ghostly Education could be completed.

He runs to Gotham and eventually gets a job at Starbucks, or some other Cafe.

He has to ask the question "Could I get your name please?" A LOT while working there. And unintentionally steals hundreds of Names by the end of his first day, much less a week or a month into his job.

One day, Constantine visits Gotham for a Meeting with Batman, but by the time he gets to the Meeting Point he has bigger issues to discuss.

"Why the hell does half of your City belong to a Fae Lord?!"

[wandixx]

Danny the Young Justice member

“Hey, like, hypothetically, do you think Justice League could pay me if I became hero full time?”

It shaped out to be pretty long and boring stake-out, with rest of Team scattered around but connected with Mindlink, so it seemed like best moment to ask. It wasn’t something Danny wanted to do, but it shaped out to be his only chance to get any future. He cried over it enough times already, so there was even a chance he won’t breakdown trying to discuss it out in the semi-public. He wanted to keep it as calm and rational as he could and hey, if something started to get too emotional, he could say he saw some suspicious movement and fly off to fight someone. Really, it was perfect situation.

“How hypothetical is this question?” Robin asked after a beat of silence. It was quiet and careful, like he was afraid to set him off if he said something wrong or he did it wrong way. It made skin on his back crawl. Danny knew he was a bit more volatile lately, but he really hoped special treatment would stop soon.

“Hypothetical”

“Okay, let’s say we don’t know it’s a lie”

“Unnecessary” Artemis coughed.

“C’mon it kinda was–”

“Can someone just answer my fucking question?”

“I don’t think so. Batman is the one doing most of the funding, and he is really stubborn about school and future. He wants us all to have chance at normal life outside of this hero villain business with regular job and stuff”

That didn’t bode well, but Danny hadn’t got this far by losing hope whenever first obstacle occurred.

“But I could be ready whenever disaster strikes or some villain attacks or really whenever it’s necessary and I wouldn’t need to escape any civilian stuff,” he may have gotten a bit desperate along this little rant, but he just pushed through “It always takes precious minutes and–”

“It doesn’t really seem to be hypothetical anymore,” Wally interrupted and he was lucky to be on different roof, because Danny, he sworn to ancients, would strangle him if redhead was any closer.

He was very adamant about not thinking about how his last ideas of surviving to adulthood started crumbling. He promised himself to not have breakdown in the open.

He wasn’t going to.

It was fine.

He would figure something out. He always did.

“Danny?”

“It’s fine Meg, don’t worry”

“Can we ask what brought this hypothetical on your mind? You’ve always were the most assured that you’ll stop being hero at some point and move on”

Bless Kaldur to always know when to ask best-worst question. Danny wasn’t going to cry, so he wasn’t going to answer.

“We can’t help you if we don’t what’s wrong,” M’gann said softly, like she was just trying to remind him.

Something small hit his lap. A tear. When did it get here?

“It’s fine. It’s just a stupid thought”

“Okay. Tell us when you’re ready”

“Something suspicious is going on, I think it’s what we’re looking for,” Everyone needed Conner on their squad to get conversation back on not emotional track.

As it turned out it was indeed what they were looking for, and soon Danny got to express all of his pent up aggression in only a bit misplaced way.

“That was harsh”

“Shut up, this one doesn’t have pain receptors”

“Phantom has a bad day, huh?”

“You’re about to have worse,” he growled and punched guy until he stopped grinning.

It was quick work after that.

“Danny?”

Only bad side of Mindlink was that he couldn’t act like he was losing connection. It would be useful right now.

“Danny?”

“Not now”

“In the Bioship then. Not a minute later, am I clear?”

“Crystal”

He started calculating a way to get out before. He used to do it all the time, at the beginning. It was easier when Team didn’t know about his human side and they were holding each other at the arms length, but still. He could–

Conner landed right behind him and put hand on his shoulder. It wasn’t restrain, it wasn’t assuring. It was just there.

Here came his plans of escape.

“So–” Artemis started as soon as the door of Ship had closed “– what the fuck is wrong with you lately?”

“We all know it’s not nothing”

“I’m being overdramatic”

“About what?”

Danny just slumped forward and his face in hands.

“Danny”

“I have to retake year. I’m not even half way through highschool and I’m already failing and I- I just can’t do better. It’s not like I don’t have time to study, and I do try sometimes, but just as often I’m just being dumb and messing around, and I knew I failed some other tests, but last one? Last one I was sure I’ve got it, I was trying, I was trying so hard and I still fucked it up and if I can’t make it even when- even when I’m trying my best, then what is the point?”

He took a moment to breathe, to rub tearing eyes. He still wasn’t going to cry.

“I’m already kinda good at this hero thing, so I could just keep it up. I don’t think I’ll make it to the end of high school, so no good job for me, but maybe I could. I could have something, you know. Something useful. Something good. Maybe I can have some life after all”

Someone rubbed his back but he didn’t raise his head to see who.

“I didn’t want to let accident destroy any more of my life than it did, but I don’t think I can”

“Well, impossible sounds right about the task for us. We’ve got you”

Well fuck. That’s about that in not crying department.

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Steve couldn't believe he was doing this, but it was for Robin, and it was his day off. He literally had nothing better to do. He shouldered Robin's backpack and walked into the front office of Hawkins High. He grinned. Janice was still working at the front desk. He leaned against the counter and flashed her his best smile.

"Hey, Janice, those glasses look great on you. . .really slimming," Steve said, and she giggled, blushing. "I was hoping you could do me a favor. . ."

Steve didn't feel too guilty about using her weird little crush on him to get into Robin's classes and take notes for her. Janice looked down on anyone who wasn't a jock or a cheerleader. Steve thought about his life for a moment. . .God, it was pathetic that if he was so bored that he actually wanted to go back to school for a day. He nodded to a few people in the hallways and went to Robin's first class. It wasn't so bad. . .it was refreshing to catch up on what he had missed the first time. He didn't actually do any work. He just copied some notes. The second class wasn't so bad either, although people he didn't like kept trying to talk to him. The third class was far better. . .it was his favorite subject. He was surprised when he got to Robin's desk, and Eddie Munson sat next to him.

"Hey, Buckley, kiss any frogs - you're not Buckley," Eddie said.

"No, but I can understand the confusion, we do look alike," Steve said.

"You look nothing - yeah, you're fucking with me," Eddie said, narrowing his eyes at him. "What is King Steve doing gracing us with our presence?"

"Robin's sick. It's my day off, and she wanted me to take notes for her. I'd rather be here than be at home," Steve said. "What were you about to ask Robin?"

"Well, I was going to ask her if she kissed any frogs that turned into princes - princes. . .that turned into princes," Eddie said rather quickly. "Uh, it was an inside joke."

Steve narrowed his eyes at him. Steve was slow, but he wasn't that slow. Eddie had stumbled and put too much emphasis on princes. He was going to say princesses.

"You know," Steve hissed, lowering his voice.

"Of course, I know. She wrote it on her fucking shoes, man," Eddie whispered. "Everyone else is too caught up in their own shit to notice, but I sat right next to her. You know, too?"

"She's my best friend in the world, my platonic soulmate," Steve said. "Of course, I know."

"Platonic soulmate, huh?" Eddie grinned. "I think I have one of those."

"Really?" He asked.

"Her name's Ronnie," Eddie said.

"You're fucking with me," Steve grinned.

"I am not," Eddie laughed quietly. "She's up in New York studying to become a lawyer. Ronnie. Robin. Ronnie. Robin. Yeah, it's funny. . .we've been friends since we were eight. I once tried to kiss her because I thought it was the logical next step in our relationship. Silly me."

"No way, I tried to hit on Robin," Steve said with a grin.

"Well, we're both idiots," Eddie cackled.

"I'm not going to disagree," Steve said.

Steve wanted to say more, but the teacher hushed them, and they had no choice but to begin taking notes. Eddie leaned over casually, his big brown eyes pleading with him.

"If I go to sleep, can I borrow those notes?" Eddie asked innocently.

"Does Robin lend you her notes?" Steve asked.

"Yeeess," Eddie said, laying his chin on his hands, blinking at him, and Steve gave him a look. "Okay. So, no, she doesn't."

"Then why would I?" Steve asked.

"Because she's not the boss of you," Eddie said.

Steve looked at him and thought about it for a moment. No, it was clearly a trap.

"No," Steve said firmly.

"You're mean," Eddie pouted.

Steve smirked as Eddie began scribbling furiously in his notebook, muttering and looking over at him every so often. When the teacher was done, she handed out work for them to do in class. Steve took that up along with Robin's homework. While everyone else worked, he pulled out a book. He wasn't very far into the book when he noticed that Eddie was struggling. He leaned over to whisper in his ear.

"Do you want some help?" He asked.

"You wouldn't help me before," Eddie said.

"I wouldn't help you skate by," Steve said, rolling his eyes. "But I can show you some tricks that helped me."

"By all means, my liege," Eddie said.

Steve scooted closer to him, and looking over Eddie's paper, he showed him easier ways to solve the problems. He could feel Eddie's eyes watching him, and he couldn't help but feel warm inside at the feeling of Eddie's gaze on him.

"Did you get all that?" Steve asked.

"Yeah, I did," Eddie said, smiling softly. "You're pretty smart."

"Don't sound so surprised. The whole dumb jock thing is just a stereotype," Steve said.

"It's a shitty stereotype," Eddie said in realization.

"Definitely," Steve said. "Just like it's a shitty stereotype that people who play D&D worship the devil."

Eddie and Steve locked eyes. Hazel eyes peering into brown. . .there was a deep understanding there. . .that they weren't so different after all.

"So. . .why don't you want to be at home?" Eddie asked.

"My parents are there, and they're not exactly proud of me for not getting into college or working at a menial job instead of working for my asshole homophobic father," Steve whispered. "Plus, they'd rather not be around their queer son, so I get out of their hair when I can."

"You're. . .gay?" Eddie asked in surprise. "But all those girls. . .?"

"I didn't sleep with that many," Steve rolled his eyes. "It's such an exaggeration. And I'm bisexual. . .more than one gender for Steve Harrington."

"And you're telling me this why. . .?" Eddie asked, not unkindly.

"Because you get it, man," Steve replied.

"Oh, you mean because of Robin?" Eddie asked.

"Not just Robin, I mean, aren't you - ," Steve said and stopped when Eddie just looked at him. "Okay, I'm asshole. I just assumed - ,"

"Everyone does it," Eddie said. "I don't know why."

"Could be because of the way you represent the freaks and the outcasts. Most people assume the majority of them are queer but you'd surprised how many there are among the conservatives," Steve grinned. "But it also might be because of the hanky hanging out of your ass pocket."

"My hanky?" Eddie asked in confusion.

Steve leaned over and whispered in his ear to tell him about the code amongst people like him and Robin. Steve pulled back and watched his dumbfounded face.

"You okay, there?" He asked.

"Well, that makes total sense. . .I think I was actually fucking hit on a couple of times when I went out," Eddie said. "Honestly, I wear it because most metalheads do, plus it's useful. I mean, I've had sex a couple of times, but I've never done stuff like that. I mean, sure, I have handcuffs on my wall so I wouldn't be opposed to being chained up and spanked - ,"

"Mr. Munson!" The teacher yelled.

"Ooh, did I say that a little too loudly?" Eddie asked, and Steve snickered.

After class, Steve started walking to the next one while Eddie got chewed out by the teacher. It wasn't long before he heard someone call his name, and before he could turn around, he felt someone run into his back. He turned around, grabbing Eddie by the arms to steady him.

"Did you get in trouble?" Steve asked.

"Nah, I reminded him that he really shouldn't hit on his students," Eddie grinned. "Anyway. . .you want to sit with us at lunch?"

"Sure, Dustin will be thrilled," Steve said and Eddie laughed.

"I'm flattered by the way," Eddie said with a grin.

"By what?" Steve asked.

"By the fact that you thought I was queer. . .huge compliment," Eddie said. "And you're also, clearly in love with me. . .very flattered about that."

"I am not!" Steve scoffed.

"Sure, you're not," Eddie cackled.

They parted ways, and after fourth period, Steve met up with Dustin and Mike.

"This is so cool!" Dustin exclaimed. "Can you come to school with us everyday?"

"No, man," Steve laughed. "I got work."

"I bet you'd want to go to school with your mother," Mike teased.

"I would love to go to school with my mom. She's awesome!" Dustin yelled.

Steve laughed and placed his hand on Dustin's head, shaking it affectionately.

"I've been invited by your dungeon master to join you guys for lunch," Steve said.

"You spoke to Eddie?!" Dustin gasped.

"Yeah, and he's actually kind of. . .cool," Steve said.

"I told you!" Dustin exclaimed. "Mike, did you hear that?! He thinks Eddie's cool."

"I'm literally standing on his other side," Mike said. "And of course, Steve thinks Eddie's cool. Steve’s not stupid."

"Thanks, Mike," Steve grinned.

Steve followed them into the cafeteria, where they got their lunch, and then headed towards the Hellfire table. He glanced around the room, and his eyes landed on Lucas. Steve raised his eyebrows at him questioningly, and he shook his head. He turned back to the table, feeling disappointed, but he understood. Eddie was sitting at the head of the table with an empty chair next to him. His eyes caught Steve’s and he waved eagerly before slapping the chair next to him.

"I think he wants you to sit next to him," Mike said.

"I think so, too," Steve grinned in amusement.

Eddie really was cute. How he ever thought he was scary was beyond him. Steve adjusted Robin's backpack and walked over to the chair meant for him. He sat down in it, smiling, and Eddie quickly introduced everyone.

"Steve Harrington's really joining us for lunch?" Jeff asked.

"I told you. . .he's cool," Eddie said.

"Didn't you graduate?" Gareth asked.

"I'm taking notes and collecting homework for my friend, Robin," Steve replied.

"Couldn't you have just asked for the teachers to send everything to the front of office?" Jeff asked.

"Sure, but then I wouldn't be hanging out with you guys," Steve said.

"Oh my god," Jeff said, looking into his eyes. "You actually mean that."

"Look, I'm sorry for the other douchebags on the team who made you feel like all jocks are out to - ," Steve started to say.

"Your parents are home, aren't they?" Dustin asked, slamming down his tray for dramatic effect.

"Yeah," Steve shrugged.

"Shit, man, sorry," Mike asked. "I know your parents are total assholes."

"Do they know?" Eddie asked, leaning close to Steve to 'whisper'.

"We know," Dustin and Mike said together.

Eddie snapped his head to look at them. Steve snorted. He really needs to work on his whispering. Mike and Dustin's head snapped to look at each other.

"You know?" Mike and Dustin asked.

"Of course, I know!" Dustin and Mike exclaimed again.

Oops, did he forget to tell them that they knew?

"Steve dated my sister for a year. Whenever his parents were home, Steve had dinner with us and occasionally slept in the basement," Mike said. "He's always welcome around our house."

"I am?" Steve asked.

"Duh," Mike rolled his eyes. "Can't you tell that we care about you?"

"Have you looked at your face when you talk to people?" Jeff asked. "You and Gareth both are a couple of grumpy looking bears."

Before Mike could open his mouth to say something, a basketball came flying out of nowhere and landed on Dustin's tray. Food flew everywhere, including on Dustin. Steve scowled, and he quickly located the source. Jason Carver was laughing with a bunch of his friends. He turned away from the Hellfire table. Big fucking mistake. Eddie moved to get up, but Steve pushed him back down. He grabbed the basketball and judged the distance. Yeah, he could do it. Steve threw his arm back and tossed the basketball. He was pleased when it made a loud thunking sound as it hit Jason in the head. He stumbled into his friends' arms as the cafeteria gasped. Jason whirled around and glared at Steve.

"You might want to keep an eye on your balls, Carver, you don't want to lose them," Steve said.

"Pathetic, Harrington," Jason said. "At least I'm not a disappointment to my family name."

"Yeah, finds someone who gives a shit, Carver, because I don't. At the end of the day, it doesn't fucking matter," Steve said. "You don't scare me. I've seen bigger pieces of shit than you. However, if you go after my kids again. . .I'm going to make you piss your fucking pants. All it takes is a few phone calls."

Steve stared Carver down, his eyes narrowed. At first, it didn't seem like he was going to call him on his bluff, but then Carver huffed and yanked his friends back down with him. Steve sat down to find the entire table, looking at him in shock.

"Holy shit," Gareth breathed with wide eyes.

"Uh. . .sorry, did I make that worse for you guys?" Steve asked.

"I mean, probably, but it was so fucking metal," Jeff said.

"It totally was," Dustin beamed and even Mike couldn't stop from grinning.

Steve looked over at Eddie to find him looking at him wide eyes, his mouth open in awe of him.

"Eddie? Are you okay?" Steve asked and waved a hand in front of his face.

"He gets like this sometimes," Jeff said, looking at Eddie in confusion. "Although, I didn't think he'd get like this over you. Give him a minute."

"Okay. . .here, Dustin, you can have my lunch," Steve said and began cleaning up the mess.

"Thanks, Steve, but I'll go get a new one," Dustin said. "Eat yours."

By the time Dustin came back with a new tray, Eddie snapped out of it. . .whatever it was.

"Fucking metal," Eddie breathed. "Are you an angel?"

"Definitely not," Steve said with a smirk.

A COUPLE OF WEEKS LATER. . .

"I still can't believe it. I was joking when I told you to sub in for me," Robin said.

They were currently at Family Video, even though it was closed. It was inventory day, and they were both stuck with the job.

"I was bored, Robin, and my parents were home!" Steve exclaimed.

"You went in my place and fell in love with a straight man," Robin said. "I don't know whether to laugh or cry for you."

"Oh, you should also know that I flirted with Vickie for you," Steve said.

"WHAT?!" Robin shrieked and almost dropped the tapes. "Steven Robin Harrington, I swear - ,"

"Relax, Robin Steven Buckley, I was fucking with you," Steve said. "A little sympathy for my plight wouldn't kill you, you know?"

"Asshole," Robin said, but she was smiling slightly. "Have you tried talking to him?"

"Yeah, but he keeps running away from me. He once zig zagged through the entire school parking lot, screaming," Steve sighed. "I think I freaked him out with my sexuality."

"If he's okay with me, then he should be okay with you," Robin said.

"Robin. . .you know that's not exactly true. You know there's people within our own community who don't accept people like me. You remember what happened when we visited that gay bar. That guy accused me of pretending to be gay and said there's no such thing as bisexuality," Steve said. "And his friend agreed, but he said that I was a confused gay man. He told me that it was okay to be myself while rejecting who I am! How the fuck does that work?"

"Yeah, that was fucked up. I didn't know who to punch first. . .okay, so, you have a point, but maybe he's freaking out about something else," Robin said and sighed. "And if he is being like that, then I'll dismember him slowly while he's still alive and then let him bleed out."

"You'd do that for me?" Steve asked.

"Of course, you're my dingus," Robin said, stroking his hair. "And I expect you to do the same."

"Of course," Steve scoffed and then paused. "You know, Dustin said he left town last weekend. I mean, he came back, but he wouldn't say where he went."

"Yeah, this is definitely something else," Robin said. "I'm going to go to the bathroom, and when I get back, I fully expect all these negative thoughts to be gone."

"How long have you known me?" Steve scoffed.

"Surprisingly less than a year," Robin said.

"It feels like we've known each other our whole lives," Steve said.

"I know," Robin said fondly and then disappeared into the back.

Steve knelt on the floor and tried to focus on the inventory, but his thoughts went back to Eddie. It took one day for Steve to screw that up. . .although he couldn't figure out how he screwed it up. His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a tapping on the door. Steve sighed and stood up.

"Can't you read the sign? We're closed - Eddie," Steve froze when he saw Eddie standing at the door, his hands in his pockets.

Eddie pulled one of his hands out of his pockets and waved awkwardly. Steve looked at him for a moment, studying him. Eddie's big brown eyes looked apologetic and guilty. Steve sighed and moved to the door before letting him in. Eddie slid past him, and he closed the door behind him, locking it back. Steve crossed his arms and looked at him expectantly.

"Hey," Eddie said awkwardly.

"Hey," Steve said. "Is that all you have to say or are you going to run away from me again?"

"No. . .no, definitely not. I've just been struggling with something, and I haven't been able to deal with it. I decided to go up and visit Ronnie. We talked about it for a long time," Eddie said pausing. "We've finally come to the conclusion that I've been struggling with the whole bisexuality thing."

"Well, I'm sorry that my sexuality bothers you," Steve said, angrily. "And if you can't tell, that was sarcasm. . .go fuck yourself."

"Fuck! No! That's - ," Eddie was interrupted by a loud scream.

Robin dove over the counter and tackled Eddie to the ground. Eddie shrieked.

"PREPARE TO DIE!" Robin yelled.

"No! No! I'm the same! I'm the same!" Eddie yelled as Robin slapped him, and then she took a box cutter out of her pocket. "I'M BISEXUAL, I'M BISEXUAL!"

Robin dropped the box cutter, but she remained on top of Eddie, frozen.

"Pardon?" She asked.

"That's what I was struggling with. . .my own sexuality. . .ever since Steve threw that ball at Jason Carver," Eddie said. "And I didn't know what I was feeling, so I didn't know how to talk to you so I did what I always fucking do when I get scared. . .I ran."

"Well, this was a rather awkward breakdown in communication," Robin said and got up, helping Eddie. "Thank God, I didn't want to have to kill you. I mean, we have the means to make a body disappear, but I did not want to go through it. Good luck, Steve."

Eddie watched as she disappeared into the back again and he looked back at Steve, his eyes comically wide.

"What the fuck did she mean by that? You can make a dead body disappear? Steve, what did she mean by that?" Eddie asked.

"Never mind about that," Steve laughed. "Tell me more about you realizing you're bisexual because of me."

"Okay, but we're going to come back to that other thing. . .right?" He asked.

"Eddie, focus," Steve said.

"Well, I mean, that's pretty much it," Eddie said. "I like you. . .a lot."

"I like you a lot, too," Steve replied.

"Now what?" Eddie asked.

"Well, this is usually the part where we - "

" - fuck?" He asked.

"I was going to say kiss," Steve laughed. "But I like that your mind leaped frogged to that, but I'm pretty sure that Robin would kill us."

"Damn straight!" They heard Robin yell, and then she laughed. "HA! Get it? Because none of us are. . .Goddamnit, I'm hanging out with Dustin too much."

"Right, so kiss?" Eddie asked.

Steve laughed, cupped the back of his neck, and pulled him in for a kiss. Eddie froze before melting into it, wrapping his arms tightly around his waist. He deepened the kiss as Steve wrapped his arms around his neck, enjoying the way his lips moved against his. . .so soft and plump. God, Steve wanted to kiss him forever. Eddie pulled away, leaning his forehead against his.

"I'm sorry, I should have worded that better," Eddie said. "And I shouldn't have run away from you. . .in one single day, you turned my life upside down. . .although, I guess I've been struggling with my feelings for a long time. According to Ronnie, you're not the first man I flirted with."

"I didn't always know about myself either, so it's okay, Eddie, I get it," Steve said. "You're here now."

Steve buried his head into his shoulder and hugged him tightly. Never would he have been so grateful that his platonic soulmate had gotten the flu or that his parents had been home. . .It's funny how life works out like that.

[cjlouwho]

oh damn, I forgot I wrote this for the fluff thing. This was done for @livelaughlou who isn't even on here right now 😭 but can enjoy it later. Here's sleepy cuddles:

“No.” Buck gripped onto Tommy's arm, not bothering to open his eyes.

“It's morning,” Tommy informed him, voice gravelly as he turned onto his side. He rested his free hand, the one not being held in a death grip by his boyfriend, on Buck's chest.

“Nothing to do today,” Buck reminded him. “Just stay here. All day.”

“What if I need to pee?”

“You don't.”

“How do you know?”

Buck kicked his leg out until it touched Tommy's foot. “Your feet get cold when you need to pee.”

Tommy snorted. “That doesn't make any sense, Evan!”

“It does! And you know it does because you don't need to pee.”

Tommy sighed, but scooted closer to Buck. “I was gonna make breakfast.”

Finally, Buck peeked his eyes open. “Tommy, if you get up, an asteroid will hurtle towards Earth and destroy us all.”

“So, me getting out of this bed would literally be the end of the world?” Tommy asked, pressing a kiss to Buck's shoulder.

“Mhm.”

“Seems dramatic, Evan.”

“Nope. Just the truth.”

“If I stay in this bed we'll starve to death.”

Buck maneuvered the two of them around until he was resting his head on Tommy's chest. “You can't get up when I'm using you as a pillow. It's the law.”

Tommy brought a hand to Buck's head, running his fingers through his hair. “Is this a new law? Don't think I've heard it before.”

“Athena, she just, uh, she just told me about it. Ten years imprisonment for getting out of bed when your partner is using you as a pillow.”

Tommy hummed, and Buck nestled in closer against the vibrations. “Ten years is a long time. I can't risk that.”

“I agree.”

“But what happens when your stomach starts growling?”

“We'll order food.”

“Okay,” Tommy agreed. “We do still have to get the food though.”

Buck shook his head. “Not if I call Maddie,” he mumbled against Tommy's chest. “She has a key.”

“We're gonna call your sister to come over just to bring our food in the house?”

“Yes.”

“And we're not even going to get out of bed while she's here?”

“You got it.”

“Evan.”

“Why're you trying to leave me?” Buck asked, face scrunched up in a pout. “We've talked about my abandonment issues.”

“Oh my God,” Tommy laughed, and Buck couldn't help but smile against him. “If I remember correctly, you were the one who had a full day planned for today. Every hour scheduled. You broke out the clipboard at work, almost cost you your friendship with Eddie.”

“No, it almost cost me Eddie refusing to be my best man,” Buck corrected. “We don't have to meet him and Chim until eleven though. Wha' time's it?”

Tommy stretched out to look over at the clock. “Not quite nine.”

“Plenty of time.” He lifted his head just enough to press a kiss on Tommy's pec, then laid back down. “You can be my pillow until ten.”

Tommy smiled, reaching down to intertwine Buck's hand with his. He could feel the cold metal of Buck's ring against his skin, practically sparkling as light shined on it through their shades. “Guess it would be wrong to deny my soon-to-be husband, wouldn't it?”

“It would be very wrong,” Buck informed him. “Very, very wrong.”

“Okay then,” Tommy agreed, snuggling further into the bed and wrapping Buck up in his arms. “I'm your pillow until ten.”

Buck grinned, mumbling as he started drifting back to sleep, “I'm gonna love being married to you.”

“Yeah,” Tommy replied, feeling more content than he ever felt in his life, “me too.”

[againaweasel]

To add on to the ‘read the Illiad point’ - if it does seem dry and daunting try a different translation! There’s hundreds of them each with their own nuances and styles.

Personally, I like Peter Green’s translations and he’s what got me through my Classics degree (he’s pretty easy to follow for a first time reader, even if it does sacrifice some of the poetics you’ll find in some other translations). A lot of other translations are entirely in the public domain now

ALSO! Read! Plays!

Lots of myths are retold in the plays of Sophocles, Euripides, Aeschylus etc and they’re worth reading. Perseus.edu has a lot of them for free - like here is the Bacchae but Euripides you can just read right now

Want something funny? Read anything by comic writer Aristophanes [[like Lysistrata that has the women of Athens going on a sex strike, or The Frogs that has the god Dionysus wandering through hell to bring back Aeschylus from the dead]]

More resources under the cut!

Don’t like reading plays? Good news! These plays have been put on THOUSANDS of times

Plays

The Orestia

A really Old school (86) film of Antigone from the BBc

Want one in the original Ancient Greek? Here’s Frogs in Ancient Greek (with English subtitles of course)

Radio plays

Medea (Fiona Shaw is incredible in this)

Electra

Orestia again

Libation bearers

The Furies

If you’re a fan of short stories check out some mythographers

Ovid is the most famous but there’s also

Apollodorus’ Library

Hyginus Fabulae

Virgil’s Aeneid

Less of a mythographer really but there’s: Hesiod’s Theogony and Works and Days that form the back bone of a lot of what we know about certain myths

And if you want something meatier, harder to follow, and history based (95% of which makes you go “I’m sure it didn’t happen like that”) go for the historiography trio of:

Herodotus The Histories

Thucydides History of the Peloponnesian War

Xenophons Hellenica

It’s easy to write off Classics as something stuffy and inaccessible so you have to parse them through a modern retelling - but they’re not! These texts are over 2000 years old and now you can read them on your phone!

a quick psa to anyone recently getting into greek mythology and is a victim of tumblr and/or tiktok misconceptions:

-there is no shame in being introduced to mytholgy from something like percy jackson, epic the musical or anything like that, but keep in mind that actual myths are going to be VERY different from modern retellings

-the myth of medusa you probably know (her being a victim of poseidon and being cursed by athena) isn't 100% accurate to GREEK mythology (look up ovid)

-there is no version of persephone's abduction in which persephone willingly stays with hades, that's a tumblr invention (look up homeric hymn to demeter)

-as much as i would like it, no, cerberus' name does not mean "spot" (probably a misunderstanding from this wikipedia article)

-zeus isn't the only god who does terrible things to women, your fav male god probably has done the same

-on that note, your fav greek hero has probably done some heinous shit as well

-gods are more complicated than simply being "god of [insert thing]", many titles overlap between gods and some may even change depending on where they were worshipped

-also, apollo and artemis being the gods of the sun and the moon isn't 100% accurate, their main aspects as deities originally were music and the hunt

-titans and gods aren't two wholly different concepts, titan is just the word used to decribe the generation of gods before the olympians

-hector isn't the villain some people make him out to be

-hephaestus WAS married to aphrodite. they divorced. yes, divorce was a thing in ancient greece. hephaestus' wife is aglaia

-ancient greek society didn't have the same concepts of sexuality that we have now, it's incorrect to describe virgin goddesses like artemis and athena as lesbians, BUT it's also not wholly accurate to describe them as aromantic/asexual, it's more complex than that

-you can never fully understand certain myths if you don't understand the societal context in which they were told

-myths have lots and lots of retellings, there isn't one singular "canon", but we can try to distinguish between older and newer versions and bewteen greek and roman versions

-most of what you know about sparta is probably incorrect

-reading/waching retellings is not a substitute to reading the original myths, read the iliad! read the odyssey! i know they may seem intimidating, but they're much more entertaining than you may think

greek mythology is so complex and interesting, don't go into it with preconcieved notions! try to be open to learn!

[ghostfiish]

Jinwoo is so addicted to putting points in strength and just likes daggers so much he's not picking up better weapons like the System wants him to do to get stronger.

So, instead, the system has to bend over backwards to make daggers where there normally would not be daggers so Jinwoo will actually use drops and not get himself killed

--

Jinwoo: *kills a foot soldier monster*

System, internally: (...well that one had a spear, I guess I can work with that and turn the tip into something like a dagger, sure. Let's go with that.)

--

Jinwoo: *kills a demon*

System: (Let's see... That one was a caster... Did it have a dagger for emergencies? No? Hmm... Oh, I know, it's got big horns. Those are daggers now.)

Jinwoo: Oh, sick, a demon horn dagger... Look at the stats on this...

System: (phew)

--

Jinwoo: *kills a gelatinous cube*

System: (Ok first of all, how. Second of all, no teeth or horns. Shit. What do I do. Uhhhhhhh)

System: *frantically googling for that YouTube guy that makes knives from jello*

--

Jinwoo: *kills a giant orc*

System: (Ok whatever let's use the longsword it was using and just CALL it a dagger)

Jinwoo: Woah, this is a HUGE dagger. Sweet. Description says... Strength stat large enough to weld one-handed? Perfect.

System: (It's way larger. Like double what you need. Please take the hint please take the hint and beef up other stats)

Jinwoo: I wonder if I can find another one...

System: (fuck, time to change tactics)

--

Jinwoo: *kills another caster*

System: (ok here we go. Let's try a MAGIC dagger you need INTELLECT to use)

Jinwoo: ...oh, what's this? I can't use this junk. *sells it in the store*

System: (FACEPALMING)

[tangerineastronaut]

bibliophile ⟡ j. yunho

you're stressed...your study buddy has an idea.

Pairing: Yunho x Fem!Student!Reader Genre: Smut - dark twist Requested: Yes/No w.c. 5.8k Warnings: heavy on the smut, semi public sex (ish), mutual pining, food? - THE SUCKER - he does...things with it. Yunho is a FREAK. Reader is desperate for yunho dick (yes YOU, reader) Spoiler warnings are in comments if you need them. A/N: So, this is sort of two requests in one, however I don't want to disappoint anyone so I'll post it solo. I hope it's okay! <3 god deleted my ticket to heaven with this one. Requests: Open (link below)

Requests | WIPs

Masterlists: BTS | ATEEZ | GOT7 | Stray Kids

Taglist: @baby-stay92

If you'd like to be added to my taglist, please DM me or click here.

You release a tired sigh and rub your eyes, throwing your pen down. It bounces off of your ridiculously thick textbook and lands on the papers scattered around your study partner. 

“Ah ah. No crashing yet, we’ve got three more chapters,” Yunho says with a laugh, tapping you on the end of the nose with his own pen. You pout, making a face at him before dramatically collapsing on the table. 

“I give up. You can become a lawyer, I’ll go back to making sandwiches,” you groan, muffled against pages of your future. 

“I thought you liked working at the sandwich shop?”

“I did,” you reply, tilting your head to look at him. “But sandwich shops don’t pay me six figures.”

“Then stop whining,” Yunho shrugs. You grumble words unintelligible even to yourself and sit up, fixing your hair. You stretched, yawned, checked your phone for the thousandth time that evening. Finals were next week. Then there was the Bar exam. You were so close to being y/n l/n, attorney at law…but you were beginning to feel nauseous at the mere sight of words on a page. 

“Wanna take a break?” Yunho suggests, leaning back to stretch. You avoid looking at the way his sweater rides up, revealing inches of what appears to be a toned belly. 

“No,” you mumble, forcing yourself to look away. “If I leave this library…I think I may never return.”

Yunho chuckles and nods, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and index fingers. For a few minutes, you both just sit there, enjoying a rare moment of peace. Usually the library is filled with students, exactly like you—stressed, depressed, drowning in student debt and reading assignments. 

“Yunho?” you mumble. He hums a response, looking over at you. You swallow. “If I start to cry, will you judge me?”

“Not at all,” he responds. You nod once, feeling tears burning in your eyes. 

For the next hour or so, you take turns reading passages and summarizing them, going through various laws and statutes that you could barely comprehend. Your brain felt as if it might explode, and you considered calling it a night, but it was only 10 p.m. and you’d be damned if you gave out before midnight. 

“What the hell are these ‘title 16 provisions?’” you scoff, crinkling your nose. “Were these even part of our assignment?”

“Let me see,” Yunho says. He scoots his chair over to your side of the table rather than just moving seats, and you feel your heart leap into your throat. And god, his arm slides over the back of your chair as he leans in to look at the tiny words on your page. 

He smells like coffee and the peanut butter granola bar you shared earlier, and this close you can see that he has very light freckles on his cheeks. You kind of want him to never move. 

“Ah, no this isn’t part of this assignment but we will have to know it for finals,” he says, words going in one of your ears and out the other. He begins talking about these provisions, but you must be numb to all forms of communication other than Jeong Yunho’s body heat. 

“Y/n?”

“Huh?” you mumble, shaking your head. Yunho has a funny look on his face, one brow raised. Oh god. Oh god. He caught you staring like a fucking creep. 

“...You good?” he chuckles. You swallow and quickly nod, brushing your hair back so fast you nearly hit him in the face. 

“Yep, uh huh,” you mumble. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

“Oh,” he says as though relieved. “Good. Well, if you need to take a break, let me know.”

He begins to move; you panic and grab his wrist. 

“Wait! You didn’t explain this part to me,” you say, pointing at a random section on the page. Yunho sits down again and tilts his head. 

“You need me to explain…marital property to you?” he asks, sounding both amused and disbelieving. 

Well, if you’re gonna be a bad liar, at least you’ll be persistent.

“Yes,” you nod. “Just like a refresher, you know? My brain is cooked.”

Yunho stares at you for a few seconds, and you feel your cheeks heat up. It feels like he knows something you don’t know, and you don’t like that. So you yank him back into his seat and let go of his wrist, pretending to be very interested in one of the most basic aspects of your degree. 

Marital property is boring, even when the hottest guy in your class is explaining it to you. And what’s worse—he knows. You know he knows. He’s explaining basic concepts to you, and then explaining the basics of those basic concepts, all the while keeping a little smirk on his handsome face. You consider caving, thinking of any possible excuse for your behavior. You’re delirious from lack of sleep, that’s actually true. But you were too deep in this to give up now. 

“That’s most of it,” Yunho finally says, long fingers splayed over the textbook. They nearly reach from one end of the open book to the other. You shiver. “I guess we should move into parental rights—”

“Yunho,” you begin with a sigh, ready to admit defeat. He smiles innocently, resting his chin in his hand.

“Yeah?”

“I—”

You freeze, having forgotten how to form sentences. Yunho’s still smiling at you, but his free hand is now resting on your thigh. You thanked the gods you’d decided to wear a skirt today. 

His palm is large, warm, spanning much of the plush skin there. He’s not gripping it, but it’s still very obviously intentional. You feel your cheeks burn hot; you’re determined to remain unaffected.

“Nevermind,” you mumble. He chuckles and turns back to the page, though he doesn’t move his hand. 

You don’t ask him to. 

You go back to your respective chapters, thankfully far beyond the basics, but his hand stays right where it is. He even reaches over his other arm to sip his coffee, refusing to move it. Your skin burns in the shape of his fingers; you almost want to push him away simply because your body is reacting to his touch in a way that’s making you feel crazy. You’re practically feverish, just because he’s near you. Pathetic, honestly. 

When you sigh and rub your eyes, those long fingers twitch, making you jump. You try to play it off, though you know he’s aware of your reaction, because he does it again. When you don’t react as dramatically, he squeezes gently.

Your knee jerks up so fast it hits the table, causing your belongings to rattle, and your heart feels like it’s going to explode. Yunho chuckles, though doesn’t move his hand. You clear your throat as though everything is normal. As though he’s not currently squeezing your upper thigh. 

“Yunho,” you say quietly. 

“Hm?” He doesn't bother looking up from his textbook.

“What are we doing?”

He does look up this time.

“Studying,” he says, giving you a sweet smile. You narrow your eyes. 

If he was going to do this, then so were you. You were sleep deprived, numb to the world, and horny as hell. So you parted your knees. 

Not much, just an inch or so, but very obvious. You didn’t miss the way Yunho’s throat worked as he swallowed, clearly not expecting the reciprocation. You go back to your textbook, but your victory is short lived, however, as his large hand slides further inward.

You’re flustered. But you’re also stubborn. So you drop your pen and look him in the eyes as you open your knees. Yunho’s gaze is steady as he slowly moves his hand, as though expecting you to stop him. You don’t. 

Yunho went back to reading and you did the same, just as his pinky brushed the crease of your inner thigh. You knew you were wet, knew he could probably feel the moist heat radiating from your body behind your pink panties, but you chose to be nonchalant. Until he rubbed the back of his knuckle against your panties, over your clit. 

The soft moan that escapes you is mortifying.

Yunho quickly clamps a hand over your mouth, laughing breathily as your brows pull together and you shudder. He looks as shocked as you are, though now you’re hazy, focused only on how good it felt, and wanting more. 

“Shh,” he chuckles nervously, glancing around despite the fact that you’re the only ones here. “No wonder you act like you’re walking around on thin ice. You’re frustrated as hell, huh?”

“P-Please,” you whimper pitifully against his palm, though it’s muffled. He moves his hand and you grip his wrist, looking up at him. You silently communicate your needs, praying he has mercy and doesn’t force you to say it out loud. Yunho glances around one more time, licking his lips before looking down at you like a fucking steak on a platter. 

“If we’re gonna do this, you gotta be quiet for me,” he murmurs. You nod quickly, gasping when he effortlessly yanks your chair closer to him. He adjusts his glasses before lowering his hand to your thighs, gently stroking them. 

“Can I touch you?” he asks quietly. You open your mouth, but he presses a finger to your lips. “Quietly.”

“Yes, yes,” you whine. “T-Touch me.”

Yunho bites his lower lip, as though imagining doing much, much more than that. When he rubs your thighs again, your knees fall open and you stifle a moan behind your sleeves. Yunho smiles at the sight of you, slipping his hand between your legs again. 

This time, he’s more careful, though it’s much more frustrating for you. You squirm when he strokes either side of your cunt, making a ‘v’ and squeezing your plush pussy lips between them. You moan again, loudly, and Yunho scrambles to cover your mouth. 

“Baby, you’ve gotta be—”

“Quiet, I know,” you pout, gripping his wrist. “C-can’t help it…feels good.”

Yunho swallows, letting his fingers brush against you again. You manage to stay quiet this time, but your mouth opens in a silent scream.

“So fucking sensitive,” he murmurs, drawing his hand back. You nearly protest, but he presses his index finger to your clit like a button and you jolt, covering your mouth just in time. Yunho smirks. 

“H-Haven’t had sex,” you say, fisting the sleeve of his sweater as he pushes again. “In m-months.”

“Why?” he asks, beginning to rub slow circles against your panties. You feel your wetness spreading beneath them, but you don’t care. You grip the edge of the table and swallow. 

“Busy,” you breathe, licking your lips. Yunho’s eyes follow your tongue. You don’t notice. 

“Can I kiss you?”

“Y-yeah, yes,” you nod frantically. 

Yunho uses the hand between your legs to turn your entire body toward him. You want to mention how attractive that is, but he’s leaning forward and pressing his lips to yours.

His kiss is nothing like his touch; there’s nothing dirty or hurried about it. His nose brushes the crease of yours as he tilts your heads to the side, his free hand moving up to cup your cheek. It’s a sweet kiss that makes no sense when his fingers are currently resting against your panties beneath your skirt. 

He seems to have forgotten what he was doing amidst your soft kisses, as you break away from his lips to impatiently bounce and whine. Yunho smirks and begins rubbing his middle finger directly over your clit, applying very little pressure. He kisses you again, and you throw your arms around his neck, trying to push your body into his. His knee prevents you from doing so. 

“Nng…what are you doing?” you whine, fisting his sweater. “Wanna…wanna be in your lap.”

Your own admission makes your cheeks flush red, but you don’t care. You’re horny and your crush’s hand is between your thighs. 

“Not yet, baby,” he mumbles, stealing another lazy kiss. “Wanna keep you like this. I like how desperate you are.”

“I…I’m not desperate,” you mumble. Yunho bites his lower lip and applies more pressure to your clit, you buck your hips and grip his sleeve. He’s laughing, but you don’t care, aching for more of him. 

“Desperate,” he hums, pulling you in for another kiss. You don’t understand his obsession with kissing you; wasn’t he as horny as you were? But you kissed him back anyway, because you’ve had a crush on this guy since your freshman year and even the slut hormones clouding your brain couldn’t block that much out. He was a damn good kisser too, taking the lead and hardly giving you time to breathe.

In contrast to his soft mouth, Yunho’s index finger hooks your soaked panties, tugging them to the side. His finger brushes your bare cunt, though he knowingly silences your moans with a kiss. 

“What can I do?” he asks once you finally break apart. You’re unwilling to let him go, however, pulling his lips back to yours.. 

“Don’t care,” you mumble between kisses, body buzzing with need. “Whatever you want.”

“Can I go in here?” 

He prods at the needy hole between your folds and you fucking purr, clutching his sweater and pulling him close with a whine. 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he laughs. He waits for you to eagerly nod, then brings his fingers to your mouth and taps your lips. “Open.”

You do as he says and he slips his fingers inside. You nearly moan around them as you instinctively suck and lick his digits; they’re long and thick, two of them practically as big as a few hookups you’ve had in the past. Yunho watches, pupils wide as you act like an obedient doll a little too eager to be fingered in a library at midnight. 

When he pulls his fingers out, they’re slick and shiny with your drool, and you see him suck in air. You blush, a little embarrassed at how thorough of a job you’ve done. You expect Yunho to go beneath your skirt, but he slides his wet fingers in his mouth, eyes never leaving yours. 

It’s the filthiest thing you’ve ever seen, next to the look of pure bliss in his eyes as he sucks your saliva off of his fingers and replaces it with his own. You decide then that you do not want him to finger you. 

“Fuck me,” you blurt out. 

You barely register what you’ve said, but you’re damn near ready to jump his bones. Yunho blinks in surprise, obviously not having expected that. He pulls his fingers out of his mouth.

“Really?” he asks. He sounds surprised for reasons you don’t understand, but you nod. 

“Yeah,” you say, pulling him in for another kiss. “Want you inside me. All of you.”

“Fuck,” Yunho groans. He grabs your face in his hands and kisses you back, harder. Your hands are shaky as they go for his jeans, but then he freezes like you’ve just slapped him. 

“What?” you ask, breaking the kiss. Yunho curses and rubs his face with both hands, tilting back in his chair. “What is it, yu?”

“I don’t…fuck. I don’t have a condom.”

He runs a hand through his hair like this is the biggest mistake of the century. You bite your lower lip—the idea of leaving tonight and not getting fucked by him makes you genuinely want to cry. 

“We could…you know?” you mumble, face hot. “I mean, I-I’m clean. Obviously, haven’t had sex in god knows when—”

“No,” Yunho says, shaking his head. “I don’t trust myself.”

“Don’t trust yourself to what?” you frown. Yunho looks at you, 

“There’s no way I’m gonna be able to make myself pull out once I’m in you,” he murmurs. “We need a condom.”

You swallow. You really shouldn’t push; but you need to hear more. 

“How do you know?” you breathe, licking your lips. 

“C’mere.”

“What?”

Yunho reaches over, grabbing your wrist. He pulls you into his lap and you gasp, able to feel the rigid line of his cock beneath you. But he grabs your face and pulls you in for a kiss again. 

“I’ve been thinking about you for so long,” he hums, and you mewl in response, grinding down against him. He kisses you again to stifle what was no doubt a moan. 

“Y-Yeah?” you manage to squeak out. Yunho nods. 

“Yeah. Not gonna be able to pull out if I’m balls deep in that little cunt with you fucking crying for it like this.”

Fuck. You needed him. To be honest, with or without the condom, but if he felt it was necessary.

“Let’s go get one,” you mumble dizzily. “A c-condom. There’s a convenience store down the street.”

Yunho frowns, looking at the clock on the wall.

“The library will be locked, won’t it? Don’t we have to lock up?”

You lean back in his lap, smiling. 

“Yes. But I’ve got a key,” you chime.

The moment you stepped into the store, you immediately regretted it and felt all the horny escape you. Not really, but it was embarrassing as hell, and painfully obvious as to what you were doing here. Yunho didn’t seem to mind, his hand tightly clasping yours as he guided you toward the back. 

You had a little trouble finding the condoms—it made you inexplicably happy when Yunho suggested asking the clerk as he didn’t know either, even though your answer was a firm NO—but eventually found the rack next to the sex pills and cold sore cream. 

Hot. 

Yunho squints, and you cross your arms impatiently. You grab a box and shake it. 

“It’s not a shoe store, here,” you mumble, pushing the box into his hand. Yunho glances over the label and smirks, tossing it back on the shelf. You want to ask what the hell is so funny when you’re so fucking wet your panties are sticking to your thighs, but then he finally makes a choice and puts the box in your hands. Oh.

Oh. 

XXL. Makes sense.

You make him grab a few more things as though that makes the purchase less shameful. When you go to check out, you look everywhere but at the clerk—until he has the audacity to speak to the man holding your hand, very obviously purchasing condoms so the two of you can go fuck in a library. 

“Finals week?” the guy says. Yunho slides his card across the counter and squeezes your hand.

“Finals week,” he nods.

“I just realized we could’ve gone to my apartment,” you say, unlocking the library door. Yunho leaned against the wall, unwrapping the candy he’d apparently decided on last minute. A red round sucker. “It’s only a few minutes away.”

You’d been given a key to the library your second year here, as you were a trusted student who often pulled all nighters—and you lived in the shitty part of campus where the power often went out. You were aware this was a total abuse of that power, but you figured if you showed Yunho to Ms. Lin, she’d understand. 

“Yeah, well, my fantasies during puberty weren’t at apartments,” Yunho shrugs, holding the door for you. You head inside and find your table, where you drop the bag of your purchased items. Yunho grabs it, immediately fishing out the box. 

“Very boy of you,” you scoff, rolling your eyes. “Let me guess, the hot librarian offers to help you find your dick? Is that part of the dewey decimal system?”

Yunho smiles. “Can we get back to you whining for me to fuck you? I liked that.”

“I was not—”

Your freakishly tall study partner grabs your wrist, tugging you against him. You swallow and look up, lips parted at the sudden contact. 

“Not what?” he asks. You blink, but something is suddenly pushing at your lips. You open dumbly, feeling too obedient as you take whatever he’s putting in your mouth apparently. The taste of artificial cherry makes you grimace. 

Yunho backs you up to the table, crowding you against it. He cups your face in his hands and kisses your cheek, thumbs brushing below your ears. You realize you’ve been staring at him wordlessly, sucker in your mouth. 

“How’s it taste?” he asks.

“Good,” you mumble. It doesn’t taste good, you hate cherry, but if Jeong Yunho puts something in your mouth, you love it, you decide. Cherry is your new favorite flavor. 

“I doubted if they sold gags, so,” he chuckles. “This’ll do.”

You frown, but he takes the stick of the sucker before you can respond. 

“Open,” he says. You open. 

You see his eyes twinkle, almost like he can’t believe how well you’re listening to him. If only he knew you’d do anything he asked. 

Rather than pull it out, Yunho rubs the sucker around your mouth. He coats your tongue with the sticky flavor, then the inside of your cheek. By the time he pulls it out, you don’t realize you’re drooling, mouth open for him.

He pops the sucker in his own mouth, just like his fingers, and you shudder. Then he’s slipping his hands beneath your skirt, pushing your panties down your thighs. 

“What are you doing?” you ask softly, more curious than concerned. Yunho takes the sucker out and kisses your cheek, then your lips. You can taste it on his tongue, just like yours. 

Something sticky and wet prods at your clit and you gasp, but Yunho wraps an arm around your waist and keeps you from pulling away. You squeak helplessly in shock, caught between mind numbing bliss and disbelief. He’s rubbing the bulbous head of the sucker against your clit. 

“Shh…figure it’s too risky to eat you out properly,” he hums in your ear, crushing you to his chest. You squirm, though not out of discomfort. 

You have no idea how to react, hands gripping his sweater as he holds you in place. The candy feels warm and sticky, sliding through your cunt juices as he teases you with it. 

“I wasn’t going to,” he says, voice strained as though he’s doing all he can to hold back. “But I saw it and…well fuck, baby, if I’m honest, I just wanted to see if you were desperate enough to try and fuck yourself on a piece of candy.”

You whine and bury your head against his shoulder, because you fucking are. You are desperate enough to try, because he slides the candy between your lips and you jolt when it brushes your hole.

“F-Fuck, Yunho,” you gasp, nails digging into fabric. You hear him laugh, and it sounds so fucking cocky, like he knew you’d end up like this, but you can’t bring yourself to care as you work yourself to ruin on a piece of candy. 

He slides it beneath the hood of your clit, twisting the stick in his fingers. Your knees buckle, but he’s gripping you tight. He works it like a toy, rubbing up and down, focusing on your clit until you’re nearly there before he moves it again. It didn’t feel this big when it was in your mouth, but you’ve never wanted something inside you so bad. 

“Oh my god,” you moan, thighs clamping together. It doesn’t stop his hand, or the candy, the rounded tip pushing against your hole. He starts rolling it again, and you gasp as you feel yourself snapping inside, the hot neediness spilling over the edges. You try to warn him, but only manage to squeak.

“Are you…are you cumming on a fucking lollipop?” Yunho asks, voice filled with awe. You nod. 

Your ears ring, your vision blurs, and you feel something pushing against your mouth. It’s Yunho’s hand you realize, but you can’t stop, can’t stop shaking and screaming and there’s something wet on your cheeks. 

You haven’t had a proper orgasm in months, maybe even a year, and were it not for Yunho holding you up, you’re pretty damn sure you would’ve fainted. 

When you open your eyes, Yunho is laughing quietly and hugging you tight, rubbing your back. 

“Fuck, are you okay?” he asks, sounding concerned and impressed. You sniff and nod, using the back of your hand to wipe your cheeks. Yunho cups your face and uses his thumbs to clean you up. You were crying. 

“I’m sorry, jesus, I didn’t think it was that bad,” he says sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. You realize then that the damn sucker is in his mouth.

You whine, yanking him forward until you’re kissing him. It’s clumsy, but he takes the sucker out and tosses it on the table behind you. You begin working desperately at his jeans, and hear him release a cherry flavored groan. 

“Still gonna let me fuck you?” he asks, keeping his lips against yours. 

“God yes,” you say in a shaky voice. “P-Please.”

Yunho towers over you, one hand moving to cup your thigh and open you up so he can stand between them. The other goes to his jeans, and you find yourself biting your lip and digging your nails into your palms. 

“I can do that,” Yunho breathes. He places a large hand on the softness of your belly, gently pushing you back. 

XXL?

“Since you look like you’re about to fucking eat me,” Yunho says with a laugh, “why don’t you do it? Hm? When’s the last time you put a condom on?”

You feel yourself blush at having been caught, but sit up to snatch the box near you. 

“Asshole,” you mutter, refusing to give him a proper answer.

Your hands are too shaky to open the box, so you end up ripping it down the side, condoms spilling out. You sigh anyway and grab one, slipping the foil packet between your teeth. You move your hands to his jeans, and realize that for the first time…you’re nervous. 

Until now your brain had been sex focused; it still was, but your post orgasm clarity made you realize how fucking desperate you looked. You roughly popped open the button of his jeans. 

Yunho was so damn tall that his hips were practically level with your face whilst you were on the short table. This meant that, as soon as you’d tugged his boxers down, you suddenly found yourself face to face with the biggest cock you’ve ever seen. 

XXL.

For a moment you were too dumbstruck—why did they bother sculpting the soft dicks when the hard ones could look like…this? All veins and smooth skin and a pink mushroom head that looked perfectly designed for…use. You wanted it in your mouth. But he hadn’t technically put his mouth on you, and you were both in a library, and right now you were starting to get a little shaky at the idea of this thing going anywhere near your neglected pussy, so you swallowed your resolve and took the condom from between your teeth. 

Yunho watched as you struggled to tear open the packet, biting your lower lip in frustration. You finally got it open, sighing as you placed the rubber at the tip. He grabbed your hands then, and you paused. Shit. Were you doing this wrong? 

“We don’t have to do anything,” he mumbles softly, cupping your chin. “You wanna stop right now? We stop. Not trying to ruin the mood, just want you to know it’s okay.”

You shake your head.

“I’m okay, thanks,” you say quietly. “It’s just…fuck, Yunho.”

He laughs, his little ego having returned just a bit, you wanted to roll your eyes and kiss him at the same time. He bites his lower lip and strokes his thumb over yours. 

“I’ll be gentle,” he hums. “You can take it for me.”

Fuck. Yes, you absolutely can. 

Yunho guides you onto your back, though you settle on your elbows, propped up for him. You watch as he squeezes the rest of the lube from the packet onto his cock, giving a few tugs before nodding at you. You weren’t sure if you were excited or scared, but there were two heartbeats and one was between your legs. 

He pushes your legs apart and guides his cock forward. You lick your lips and let your knees fall open, bunching your skirt around your waist, offering yourself to him. Yunho sucks in air through his teeth and curses. 

“So fucking pretty,” he hums, supporting his weight on one palm as he brushes his cock against you. You shiver as the cold lube is smeared around your sensitive cunt. “Knew it from the day I saw you freshman year in a skirt just like this one. Thought I was gonna die when you smiled at me.”

“I didn’t know you remembered,” you mumbled. You were so nervous your first day, which wasn’t helped by the hot guy who approached you and asked if you were lost. Apparently you could stop feeling ashamed for having mind fucked him back then. 

“Of course I do,” Yunho chuckles, teasing the head of his cock up and down your slit. “So cute, how you blushed when I talked to you. You still do that, you know.”

“Shut up,” you mutter. Yunho laughs, then licks his lips. 

“Gonna put it in now. Tell me if it’s too much,” he says. You nod.

The swollen head of his cock catches on your hole, and Yunho uses his weight to lean forward and urge himself inside. It aches a bit, not just from the size but fuck it’s been so long since you’ve had something more than your own fingers in you. Your thoughts go from not so bad to okay damn to holy fuck there’s more? Because he keeps pushing and you keep taking, and you feel every inch of him filling your insides while his body offers more. 

“Fuck, baby. Fuck,” Yunho whines, still gripping the base of his cock as he guides it into you. Your head falls back and you curse at nothing; his cock is somehow too big but perfectly sized at the same time and you’ve never felt so god damn full. “Look at you, that needy little cunt is swallowing me babygirl. Keep fucking taking it.”

His words make you dizzy, and you whine when he’s finally fully seated. You feel heavy, pinned to the table, as though you can’t move. You reach down and feel the rigid sides of his cock, shocked to feel just how much is inside you. 

“How’s that, beautiful?” Yunho asks. He places both palms on the table, either side of your body, and you tense. If he started thrusting, it would fuck you up. 

“Good,” you say, nodding. “Big, but good.”

“Knew you could take it. 'm gonna fuck you now. Stop me if you need to," he murmurs. You can take it.

"I can take it," you nod. He smiles, kissing you once, then twice.

You squeak as Yunho begins fucking you properly, ploughing into you hard and fast, moving with need and instinct rather than reason. 

The table shakes with his heavy thrusts, pistoning into you so hard it makes you dizzy. You’re surprised you can take him like this, able to feel every inch of him when he’s seated inside, pressing deliciously on your walls. 

Yunho ruts into you like an animal, unfortunately one with a very big cock as he struggles to keep every inch buried inside you. He wasn’t lying about not pulling out, as he refused to do so even when thrusting. You had no room to breathe, no chance for air, as he fucked into you repeatedly while trying to go deeper. 

You’re at a loss for words, lips parted, eyes following his expression and movements. He’s desperate in his own way, obviously holding back, though you don’t know from what. You consider encouraging him to let go—until he groans loudly and snaps his hips, stealing the breath from your lungs. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, baby. So fucking…need you to hold still for me and take it,” he breathes. "Hold still. A-Almost done, fuck, keep taking it so good for me."

You do as he asks without question, clinging to his shoulders, nose to nose with Jeong Yunho as he forces his cock as far as it can go in your body and begins to pump a thin condom full of cum that should be you. 

Yunho takes a few moments to breathe, arms shaking where he holds himself up on the table. You run a hand through his damp hair, watching as he moans softly and leans into your touch. 

“You okay?” you giggle. He nods, tilting his head to kiss your palm. 

“Just…You’re so fucking perfect. Want more of you if you’ll let me, wanna make you feel good every day," he says.

You blink at the surprising tenderness of his words, feeling they were more than sex related. You wanted to ask questions, but right now, you were both sticky with sweat and fucked out on a library table that would need to be wiped down with holy water. 

You separated, which left you shuddering from the sudden cold emptiness inside of you. Yunho exhaled sharply, waiting a few moments before removing the condom and tying it off. 

You both cleaned up and fixed your clothes as best you could—though you stuffed your panties in your bag because the sticky wetness was a little much. 

“Do you want to come over?” you ask, making sure your skirt is covering your ass. “You know. To clean up.”

Yunho smiles, which makes you smile, and then you’re blushing and cursing at yourself. He nods and brushes your cheek with his knuckle. 

“Sounds good,” he hums. You beam and gesture for him to follow you. Yunho watches as you collect your things with shaky legs, smiling to himself. 

You were so damn pretty. Intelligent. He’d noticed right away that you were someone he was going to want. 

He grabbed his own bag and walked past the table, pausing as he stepped on something. 

The sucker. 

You crinkle your nose when you notice it, too. 

“Guess we need to throw that away,” you mumble. He nods, bending down and picking it up. He holds it in his hand for a few seconds. 

What a good idea it had been. 

He slips it into his pocket, for the memories. 

Memories like, your name. Your favorite color. That skirt you wore on your first day. Apartment 2B, where you lived. You like the right side of the bed, don’t you? Yunho likes the left side. 

The last man you slept with—11 months, 1 week, and 4 days ago.

Yunho hated that one.

You had waffles for breakfast this morning. You usually have oatmeal. You sleep with a nightlight on.

You’re afraid of the dark.

“You coming?” you ask with a shy smile, pausing at the door. Yunho looks up. You didn’t see him slip the sucker in his pocket. You never notice things like that. 

“Yeah,” he says. He follows you out the door and waits for you to lock up. Then, without thinking too much of it, he takes your hand. You don’t pull away. Your hand is small compared to his, and he squeezes it. You squeeze back. 

You like hot showers.

You sound so pretty when you moan, especially when you think you’re alone. 

Your bathroom window is never locked.

You're never alone.

Yunho has a good memory when it comes to you.

[always-just-red]

Oh I forgot to add 😭😭😭 be it fluff like jelly sylus but fluff maybe he trying to make the mc jelly too ? I’m going wild with ideas, I will be quiet

(Part 1 of ask) FINALLY finished this fic oh my goshhh I've loved it so much but writer's block was my constant companion for this one 🫠 Thanks for your patience!! Sy is jealous but I'm still pushing my 'Sylus is the softest man alive and would die before hurting MC' agenda, so I had to get a lil creative! Hope I've pulled it off idk 😭😭

Be Mine

Sylus x Reader 🩸

Summary: Sylus is getting a little tired of sharing you with the other men in your life (and he doesn't mean Luke and Kieran 🙃)

Genre: lil bit of angst, comfort and fluff

Warnings/Additional tags: gn!reader, jealousy, other LIs mentioned, brief allusion to Raf's self-harm tendencies, cheating mentioned, some intimacy & kisses-- more soft than spicy!

| Word count: 4k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

Sylus has spent centuries waiting for you, so he’s going to give you another minute.

Patience is not a virtue; it’s an old acquaintance he greets with a false smile whenever he’s forced to pass it on the street. Sometimes outside your building, whilst you’re chatting with a neighbour from the apartment above yours. Sometimes when you’re running late from a doctor’s appointment.

Patience has been cropping up a lot these days and gods, he’s sick of its face. Even now, it sits with him at this table for two as he sips at a glass that’s almost empty. There’s poetry in stalling, in savouring what’s left, especially as a waiter hovers anxiously nearby, anticipating the need for yet another refill (it would be the third).

Dregs of blood-red wine swirl with solemnity. Sylus is a patient man, a man who waits, but he doesn’t want to be. He wants the reward of it: the pot of gold at the end of that insipid rainbow. Hasn’t he waited enough?

He lifts his drink to his lips again.

“Sylus!”

They curve as he swallows the final drop.

“I’m so sorry,” you stammer, flinging yourself into the seat across from him so quickly that he’s cheated of the chance to rise and help you with your chair. “Sit back down,” you usher, because he had made a start on it, “really, Sy, I’m so, so sorry. Things at work just got crazy, and I—”

“You don’t have to explain, sweetie,” he smiles as he signals the waiter. He’ll have that refill, now, and he orders your favourite drink as you shrug off your coat and fumble with your bag, looking for something. “I’m more than familiar with the Association’s… dedication to a cause.”

You glance up with an amused smile. “We’re keeping you on your toes, huh?”

“Mmm. There is one hunter who’s proving to be a real thorn in my side.”

“You on top of that?”

“Most evenings, yes. Some mornings, too.”

You poke your tongue out at him. You’ve retrieved a compact mirror and you use it to study your dishevelled reflection. “Is everything all right at work?” he asks as you fuss over your hair.

“Yeah,” you puff. “Long story.”

“We have time.”

With a warmer smile, you stash your mirror away and sequester your bag by your feet. “You sure?” He gives you a look. “Fine,” you chuckle. “Basically, Xavier forgot to write up some reports. He’s been away on an ultra-secret, special mission or whatever—” you tap your nose conspiratorially— “which I didn’t just tell you, okay? But yeah, the reports weren’t done, and they were due tonight, so…”

Sylus raises an apathetic eyebrow. “He asked you to help?”

“Begged me, more like.”

Of course he did. The waiter arrives with your drinks and Sylus has never been gladder for a distraction. His mouth is full of pettiness, bitterness, so he drowns it with wine. You could have called. Texted. “So kitten’s been playing secretary, hmm?” he goads instead.

“That would imply kitten could keep track of time,” you pout, “so no. And speaking of playing a part—” you poke his nose— “you’re allowed to be mad at me. I should have called you. Texted. So let me have it, yeah? I feel bad enough already without you being all… perfect.”

You’re only teasing, but Sylus doesn’t feel perfect. He’s thinking about you working late with your partner, laughing at his jokes, poking him with your pen to keep him from falling asleep on his paperwork. He smirks, regardless. “What if I want you to feel bad?”

“Oh, gods,” you slump forwards, face-down on the table. “How long were you waiting?”

“Years.”

You fake cry into the tablecloth. “Don’t, Sy. Just tell me the truth. How bad was it?”

“Really, years,” he insists again, folding his arms on the table and sliding forwards, too. His chin is resting on his hands, and he blows at the top of your head. “Look.” Your face lifts so you can peer at him. He pinches his hair. “I’ve even gone grey, see?”

You sit up the tiniest bit more and your noses are almost brushing. “It looks nice,” you whisper.

“You think so?”

“Mmm. Suits you.”

Your eyes are every gem— every jewel in an illicit auction Sylus has to steal away from the rest of the world, because something that pretty just has to be his; it will find no worthier home than his hands. His devotion fills vaults. Aren’t they spilling with emeralds, rubies, sapphires, diamonds— those reckless imitations of your gaze? No-one else could deserve them, adore them like he does.

And they’ve nothing on the real thing.

Someone clears their throat and Sylus tracks the noise begrudgingly. The anxious waiter is back, clutching menus this time. You sit up fully, laughing to break the tension, and sure enough, Sylus feels less like hurling the man through the nearest window.

He’s still thinking about it though. He tells the waiter as much with a smile, and the menus are passed over with shaking hands. When Sylus says, “thank you,” it sounds like a bomb, ticking.

“Play nice,” you tut, once the waiter’s cleared the blast radius.

“Sweetie, when do I ever not play nice?”

You blink back at him disbelievingly. This should be good. “How about the time that you—?”

A familiar ringtone interrupts you, and your eyes widen in apology as you grab at your bag, rifling around for your phone. You find it— check the call and decline it— but relief is hiding, refusing to set foot on stage. Not yet, it confers to Sylus darkly, because it knows what comes next.

“Do you need to…?” he asks anyway.

“Nah, it was just Rafayel. Thanks, though.” You set the phone down. “Where was I?”

“You were about to tell me what a terribly bad man I am, sweetie.”

“Right!” you giggle. No, not yet. “So how about the time that you…” The phone rings again. You check it. Decline it. “How about the time that you—ugh!” It’s ringing again.

Sylus taps a finger on the table, impatiently patient. You can’t mute the wretched thing: the next call you miss would be a Wanderer, tearing through an orphanage or the like. It’s the reason you check, even when there’re no orphans at stake— just a pest of an artist with too much time on his hands.

Except… “Oh,” you say, glancing downwards, “it’s Zayne. I should probably—” Sylus gives a half-smile of blessing, but you weren’t waiting around for it— “hey, Zayne! I can’t talk right now, unless— Raf? What the hell? How did you get Zayne’s phone?”

You pull yours away from your ear as a string of whines come through:

“— ignore my calls, don’t even text me to ask what’s up, and then pick up his call right away? You hate me, right? Just say that you hate me, cutie.”

“I don’t hate you, Raf.” The phone is back to your ear. “I’m busy. Now seriously, how did you get— oh, hi, Zayne. Why is Raf…?” Sylus can hear a deeper voice answering your questions. “He’s at the—? Shit, is he okay? Ugh, tell him I can hear him. Tell him I know he’s not dying.”

You meet Sylus’s eyes as conflict erupts on the other end of the call. Sorry, you mouth as static filters through, interspersed with broken words and curses. The doctor’s voice prevails. “Yeah, Zayne,” you speak back to it. “I’ll call Thomas, get him to pick him up. Mmhmm? Oh!” You pinch the bridge of your nose. “I forgot, he’s at that stupid art thing. Look, maybe later, I can…”

The artist’s shrill tone is protesting.

“I know it’s my job, Raf!” you counter. “But gimme a break, please. If it was any other night, you know I’d be there. Of course I wanna be there! But I can’t—”

It’s just a slip of the tongue— words you don’t even realise you’re saying— but Sylus still feels his heart sink. He hates it. A heart is so difficult to argue with: it’s long gone before you can talk any sense into it. He stands from the table, those priceless eyes of yours pursuing him. When you tilt your head, he musters a smile, then a weak excuse: “I’m just stepping outside for a moment.”

You nod, a follow-up question on the tip of your tongue, but then there’s a voice in your ear again— two voices— and you’re you, so of course you listen.

…

Sylus waits on a bench outside the restaurant, closing his eyes as he waits for his heart to come back.

It’s only been a few minutes. He’s thinking about your eyes, your nose and lips— an inch from his— and how he should have closed that gap before it grew treacherous. Shouldn’t he be done with this? This… longing? You’re his. You’ve told him you’re his, over and over again, but he finds himself needing to hear it once more; the ghost of your voice is starting to lack persuasion.

He is yours without exception, but you? There’s always a caveat. I’m yours, Sylus. But only so long as the city is quiet. I’m yours, Sylus. Until someone else calls. The door to the restaurant opens— he can hear it— but he doesn’t open his eyes. He wants to pretend.

I’m yours, Sylus. No caveats. No exceptions.

“Sylus.”

He swallows the dread in his throat.

“I’m sorry,” you entreat softly. His eyes open, and you’re wearing your coat, holding your bag. “I have to run to the hospital— it’s this whole thing. Raf, like, passed out or something. He’s not been eating again. Zayne said when something like this keeps happening, it’s a sign that… yeah. He just… needs someone. And he hasn’t got anyone else, you know?”

“I understand.” You’re worried about your friend. That’s all it is.

Why can’t he believe that’s all it is?  

You come over and sink down on the bench beside him, looping your arm through his and giving it a reassuring squeeze. Don’t you know that he’s afraid? That a selfish, spiteful part of him wants to hide you— with the rest of his treasures— away from the light, so he can love you in the dark?

There’s a sigh as you lean against him, savouring his touch like the wine one swirls in a glass when their thoughts are elsewhere. It’s gone in a mouthful; you check your watch, and he hopes it’s bitter.

“Are you okay?” you ask.

No, he would rather be sweet for you, but look at you— making him lie. “I’m okay,” he says, and it doesn’t have a drop of conviction. He’s tired of philanthropy.

…

“What are you gonna do? Come on, tell us. Tell us! What are you gonna do?”

“I don’t know, Luke. Give me a second, okay? Jeez.”

You literally just got here. Your pace is brisk and the night air still clings to you— you shed a layer of it by peeling your arms out of your coat. Luke and Kieran are close behind, keeping to your heels like terriers hoping you’ll trip with a plateful of food. They’ll take even a crumb at this point.

“You gonna fight him?” Kieran nudges, but your lips stay tight.

“Oh, you’re so gonna fight him,” Luke takes away from the silence.

You don’t know what you’re going to do. You’ve reached a decadent lounge, lavished with black and gold, and you throw your coat over the arm of a chair before starting to wrestle off your combat boots. You’ve been off work for hours, but it doesn’t feel like it. One call-to-duty after another; first the hospital, now this.

Mephisto caws in greeting from a nearby perch. “I’m not gonna fight him,” you say as your second boot drops with a clunk. “I just need to—”

“Say no more,” Luke cuts you off. “We want in.”

With a tired sigh, you gaze up at the twins at last. Kieran is readying a fist: punching his hand softly, the beak of his mask low and threatening. Beside him, Luke swings a baseball bat over his shoulder. He didn’t have it a second ago. Where did he even—?

You put your hands on your hips. “You guys got a death wish or something?”

“Yes!” they enthuse together, nodding excitedly.

You haven’t got time to ask. Your focus drifts to Sylus’s bedroom door, where music is leaking with honeylike light. You can’t count the number of times you’ve fallen over that threshold, exhausted— always slightly broken. You want to crawl into cool silk sheets and a warmer embrace, but there’s one small problem.

The text that had brought you here, anxious and out of breath:

Boss is with someone.

“What’re you thinking?”

You’re closer to the door, now, and Luke’s whisper makes you jump. You spin, twisting the bat from his fingers and pushing him back until the tip is pressed to his throat. “Get back,” you hiss, before levelling the weapon at an encroaching Kieran, “both of you.”

Luke leaps behind his brother— swinging him between you for protection. The baseball bat stays hovering, and Luke peeks over Kieran’s shoulder, swatting at it like an indignant kitten.

“Stop it,” you scold, poking back at his hand and his masked face. “Begone!”

“Yes, boss!” Kieran goes to move, but Luke is holding him in place. He’s dragged backwards: a human shield until they can both scurry around the turn of a corridor.

You smile fondly. You forget, for just a moment, that you’re alone and full of uncertainty. The song in the next room lulls, at its inevitable end, and then you can’t forget. You’re stood in silence, staring at a door you’ve never had to knock before. Another song starts up.

Whatever this is, you can handle it.

You use the baseball bat to tap against the dark wood. “Sylus?” you call.

He makes you wait. You can hear him, moving around— unmistakably taking his time— but you don’t mind. You’re running scenarios through your head. Is he in on this, too? Or…?

He opens the door and oh, he definitely is. His silk robe hangs haphazardly over his figure, one side threatening to slip from his shoulder and the belt dangerously loose at the middle. A flush is tinting his face, spreading down through his neck, past his collarbone and lower, you think, but you’re trying not to look.

“Sweetie,” he purrs in the way that tells you he’s up to no good, “what a pleasant surprise.” His eyes flit downwards. “And you’re armed, too.”

There’s a breathlessness to the observation, and your ability to breathe briefly eludes you as well. His hair is damp and unkempt, his skin warm, his gaze hot. Is this a test? It feels like a test.

“Are you alone?” you snap, because he’s clearly put some thought into whatever it is, and you’re a good sport, so you’ll play along.

“No,” he says, but then: “You know you’re always with me in spirit, kitten. Even if not in—” another downwards glance— “body.”

“Sylus.”

“Mmm?”

“I’m going to ask you one more time.” You catch his chin with your free hand, forcing his gaze back to your face. “And I want a real answer.” He swallows thickly. “Are you alone?”

His submission is fragile. He lifts his hand, wraps his fingers around your wrist like a reminder of the fact. “Careful, sweetie.” His grip tightens as his voice drops. “Think about what you’re asking.”

“I know what I’m asking.” You snatch your hand free and step closer. “Get out of my way.”

Sylus narrows his eyes, but soon relaxes. He sweeps a hand through his hair, chuckling as he obeys— moving aside to let you past. You storm through, looking over every visible inch of his room. There’s nothing to see, of course. No clothes that aren’t yours pooled over the floor. No lover wrapped up in his bedsheets.

“Just what exactly are you looking for?” he asks smugly behind you.

“Save it, Sylus.” Your pretend patience is gone. “The twins told me everything.”

So you start searching more strenuously. You make your way over to his bed, baseball bat slung over your shoulder as you check behind the far side— even stooping to peek under it. You open the wardrobe. Nothing. Use the baseball bat to push back the curtains, letting in more blood-red moonlight. Nothing. You huff in frustration.

“You know, don’t you?” Sylus says quietly.

He’s leant against the doorway, arms crossed, and you spare him a glance. “Know what?”  

“That there’s no-one here.”

It sounds like defeat. “I’m taking this very seriously, actually,” you dismiss as you roll open the drawer of his bedside table, where no-one is hiding. You move on to even more absurd places: lifting flowers out of their vase to glance about inside it, peering into the horn of his vintage gramophone.

You’d hoped your antics would elicit at least a short laugh, or a scoff of amusement. There’s nothing, though, so you plonk onto the bed— defeated, yourself— and look to the man as you set your weapon down.

He looks back with an insincere smile. “How did you know?”

“That you weren’t really with someone? Because you’re you, Sylus. The key to a good prank?” Your fingers twinkle in the air beside your head. “Believability. Besides—” now a forefinger taps at your temple— “nothing gets past this.”

“Your ego?” he guesses with a smirk that is sincere, if nothing else.

“My brain, Sy.”

“Ah.”

Your ego— tsk. Your feet are dangling from the bed, playing with a slipper they’ve fished out from underneath it, and you have half a mind to launch it at him. This doesn’t feel like one of your usual games, though, and you’ve had a whole ride through the N109 Zone to figure out why.

“I really hurt you, didn’t I?” you speak like a confession, staring down at the floor so you don’t have to meet his eyes. “That’s what all this is about, right? You wanted to get back at me for dinner?”

“No, I—”

“I get it.” Your feet find the second slipper. “I do. I mean, it was a really shitty thing to do— walking out on you like that. Especially after you waited for me. You went to all that effort, and I— ah.” You’ve toed one of the slippers out of reach.

“Allow me,” comes a voice that’s suddenly close. Sylus’s figure looms over you before he’s crouching, kneeling by your feet. He still looks like a mess of sin, but he’s gentle as he retrieves the slipper for you. Removes your socks for you. Slides a slipper onto each of your cold feet. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” he mutters.

You let out a sigh. “Sylus.” You’re scolding him, and he gazes up at you, his eyes garnets of adoration only you could afford. “You can tell me anything, you know.”

“I know, sweetie.”

“So why won’t you tell me how you feel?”

He sits back on his knees, his thumb drawing circles on the inside of your ankle. The ministrations are mindless, and so are his words: “How I feel is not important.”

“Of course it is!” You pull away from him. “Don’t say things like that.”

“But I thought I could tell you anything, kitten.”

It’s a nick from a blade that could do much worse; he wants you to feel how sharp it is. His smile is a warning and he’s waiting for the hunter in you to strike back, because violence is what you’re good at. What you’re both good at. It hurts, but it’s easy.

You shift forward on the bed. “Sylus… you don’t need to protect me. Not from you. Not from anything you feel. I want you to be happy, to tell me if you’re unhappy. I don’t need you to—” your fingers skirt over his chest and you falter inexplicably— “to sacrifice yourself for me.”

Sylus looks down to where you’re tracing the shape of his heart on his skin. He lets out a long, beleaguered breath, then leans closer to you, his head turning away as he settles it on your lap. Your hands find his hair instinctually, threading through it in slow, meandering motions.

“I want you to be mine,” he admits on another sigh.

He can’t see you smile, but he’ll hear it in your voice: “I am yours, Sy—”

“No— just mine.”

He won’t make it a demand. Even asking you nicely has him breathless and still, like the drawn-out pause of a finished symphony. Your hands stop moving, out of respect for the quiet. You’re remembering the times you’ve been late out of your building because you’d stumbled into Xavier in the lobby. The doctor’s appointments that always overrun, and Rafayel’s ‘emergency’ phone calls.

“Come and sit with me,” you mumble, patting the bed beside you.

When Sylus does, it’s with the same reluctance a cat surrenders a sliver of sun. Lazy and listless— still warm from the light. The bed sinks under his weight and you turn to face him. His robe’s collar has fallen further, so you hook a finger under it to draw it back up to his neck. Then you straighten the lapels, smoothing them over distractedly.

He’s watching your face, not the movements of your hands. Your cheeks feel warm. “I was speaking to Rafayel earlier, and we—”

A groan, and Sylus is no longer at your fingertips; he’s flopped down backwards on the bed, his hand over his face. You can’t help giggling— you’ve broken the big, bad boss of Onychinus, it seems. Is that all it takes? You grin as you lie down with him, settling on your side, propped up on an elbow. He doesn’t stir when you fix a few stray strands of his hair.

“We talked about boundaries,” you continue. “How I can’t be on call twenty-four seven, and how he’s going to take better care of himself, so I don’t have to be.”

Sylus has moved his hand, ever so slightly.

There’s more: “I’m gonna call in sick to work tomorrow. I made a deal with Xavier, that’s why I stayed late today. He’ll cover for me.” You shift closer. “I wanted it to be a surprise. I know I can’t always be with you, but I am always thinking of you, I promise. You’re always with me in spirit, Sy, even if not in—” you press a quick kiss to his chest— “body.”

He chuckles at the words, or maybe the touch tickled.

You grin down at him. “I’m yours. Say it.”

“I’m yours.”

“No! Ugh, just—” Smart-ass! You flick his forehead as he laughs quietly. “Not the words ‘I’m yours’, say that I’m—”

His hand is at your face, pulling you in so he can kiss you. It’s slow and it’s patient; he’s taking his time, and you won’t slip away. You can feel his smile. “You’re mine,” he murmurs when he finally withdraws. One more kiss, lighter, on the tip of your nose. “Just mine.”

Always. You let him pull you into an embrace, snuggling into his warmth like you’ve been wanting to from the moment you last left it. You can hear his heartbeat beneath the lullaby of his breath. “Sy?” you whisper.

“Hmm?”

“You look really hot when you’re pretending to cheat on me.”

He scoffs, but a yawn comes before his response. “Don’t get any ideas, kitten.”

Your quiet is pensive. “I have this lunch with Zayne later this week. I really should text him to find out—”

The grip around you constricts, and a voice is in your ear, soft and possessive:

“What did I just say?”

[genjyoandgojyoandhakkai]

Answers under the cut!

I'd already started thinking about most of this because I want to continue Rook's story past the Veilguard ending. If you are interested to read a one-shot that goes a little into Xiqaa's backstory (tattoos and origin), you can find that here.

I haven't even STARTED on Xi and Emmrich yet but I certainly will. 💚⚡Hints are all throughout Despite Everything.

I'm not using Rook's name a lot in my Rookanis story, to leave room for everyone else to make their own Rook the LI, but I use it liberally below. It's pronounced "Zika" or "Shika" depending on your accent and Xi is pronounced Z by Rook herself.

Xiqaa Rook Laidir

🌻 How old is your Rook? How do they feel about celebrating their birthday? What gift has meant the most to them?

🌻36. She was born a galley slave so she knows her birth year but doesn't care about birthdays. That miiight change if her friends decide to surprise her with gifts or a party - she is learning new things about herself all the time. She got her first piece of leather armor from Fia, someone she was with for a while after she escaped slavery. It wasn't given to her on her birthday, but that was the day she started commemorating her new life, and it is what she considers her birthday.

🪻 What is the most painful injury your Rook has received? How has it affected them once it healed/scarred?

🪻Xiqaa got her lightning from touching an ancient artifact she shouldn't have. (You know, like Rook do.) It was the most painful thing to happen because she injured herself over and over before she learned to control it. She's got lightning scars all over her body, but she's proud of them because she learned a survival lesson and they look bad ass and scary.

🌹 What’s the first genuine fight Rook got in with their love interest about? How was it resolved?

🌹Rook and Lucanis don't really fight, and that's problematic. Both of them tend to internalize the problem as something they did wrong. This does come to a head once in a while, and I haven't worked far enough into their future to see what their first real fight would be. It is pretty far out there, when the two of them have no one else to run interference between their stupid misunderstandings/assumptions and lack of ability to articulate feelings. They obviously haven't resolved this yet, but it's a process, as long as they come back to each other.

🌹Rook and Emmrich fight over his fear of death (kinda); she doesn't believe in letting your fears win, and giving away your fate so easily. She is stubborn about this to a fault. Emmrich is much more open with thoughts and feelings than Lucanis, so there's potential for them to clash over more clearly stated feelings and preferences, but Emmrich is also better at mending situations so it's rare they go to bed angry with the other. They are still working on things. Rook promised not to judge Emmrich so harshly, and Emmrich promised to try and live in the moment more. (Heaven only knows what Lucanis and Emmrich will fight about...I'm really not to that point with them yet.)

🌸 Does your Rook have any siblings or close friends they see as such? Where are they during the events of Veilguard?

🌸 As a former slave, mercenary, and rebellion fighter, she is used to dropping in and out of situations - that's why she trusts and is trusted so quickly, but she didn't allow anyone to get too close. Her closest friend from her early years was a slave named Chek, and when they got to the benches, he showed her how to survive differently. From him, she learned that their masters kept them fighting against each other to prevent them planning rebellions. From Chek she learned to share, to work on a team, and to open up to another person. He escaped before she did, and she found out later he was recaptured. His status is unknown. She's been on her own for a long time, and Varric was the older brother/mentor figure she needed, after Isabela, who showed her that you can let your guard down once in a while. We all know where Varric was during Veilguard.

🌾 If there was a demon trying to trap/take over Rook, what kind would be the most successful? What would break their hold?

🌾 Rook's demon would probably be Pride. She's proud of her ability to survive on her own, and the temptation to never have to ask for help again would be strong. Breaking their hold would require someone else to show her how strength doesn't equate to solitude. Her friends drag her back from that brink all the time, without demons involved.

🌱 Was Rook involved romantically with anyone before Veilguard? What was their partner like? How did the relationship end?

🌱 Rook's first relationship as a free person was Fia, a mage living on Seheron. Fia was bold and swaggering, a fire mage fighting qunari twice her size. Xi was drawn to Fia, wanting to be someone (and be with someone) who looked tough and talked tough, and they had a few flings here and there. It was chaotic; lots of drinking and fighting and fucking. Rook discovered she didn't actually enjoy being with someone who wanted to fight at the drop of a hat, so they just kinda grew apart. It was definitely a situationship of convenience, and Xiqaa left Seheron for Rivain soon after.

🌼 If someone was to ask Spite what Rook smells like, what would he say?

🌼Sea salt and sunshine. For those of us with physical senses, it would be a hot spring afternoon when the plants are blooming; the earthy scent of green things with an indistinct floral background, and a tang of salt like sudden tears.

🌷If Rook needed to get away from their responsibilities for a moment, where would they go? Where is their safe space outside the Lighthouse?

🌷Rook would go to the old Warden fortress on the Rivaini coast to get away from her responsibilities and just watch the world. (She's not really the type to just get away from it all; when she needs to get away she just finds something else from her long list to do.) She has an affinity for open spaces and clear sightlines, and she loves the sound of the ocean. Her safe space, though, is her apartment in the Hall of Lords. She's never had a home before, and she loves having a space of her own. The floor is made of old deck planks and it's her favorite thing about the apartment.

🥀 What figure from Rook’s personal past would be added to the regret prison?

🥀Xiqaa's galley benchmate, Chek, would definitely appear in the regret prison. He was a kind person, and he taught her how to survive differently; less fighting amongst those who were already prisoners, more generosity of heart. He escaped a year before she did, and she always regretted not going with him - she loved him like a brother. Later she found out he'd been recaptured and sent to a magister who used his life force to power their spells, and Xi has always wondered if she could have gone back for him.

🪷 Does your Rook have an irrational phobia? (ie spiders or large man-made objects submerged underwater)

🪷 Rook doesn't have any phobias that she knows of. Her flaw in this regard is that she believes facing your fears makes you stronger, so she's likely to work herself into a terrible state if she discovered a phobia. There's still time to find one, though.

🍀 Has Rook had any near-death experiences? What went through their mind during what they thought was going to be their final moments?

🍀 Rook's life is made of near-death experiences. Mostly she would just close her eyes for a second and think "Well, shit. At least it's on my own terms." The first time living and not just dying free mattered to her, though, was after she found the Veilguard. Fighting for her friends became more than fighting for a cause. She truly hoped to see the next sunrise and discover more life everyday. Since she fell for Lucanis, her fear of dying without telling him how special he is to her is foremost. Also top on that list would be never having her romance with Emmrich bloom into what she envisions they could have.

💐 What is the relationship Rook has with their faction mentor? What was the moment they sent Rook away like?

💐Rook and Isabela have an easy relationship for the most part. Rook prefers the raunchy jokes and tough talk that Isabela uses, so it was easy to make that their shared language. They also share a similar devotion to wealth, doing the right thing, and a disdain for political figureheads. When a well-connected noble double-crossed Rook on their attempt to take an artifact for the Venatori, Isabela wasn't surprised at all. She also wasn't surprised that Rook wasn't sorry for killing the Venatori scum, so temporary exile was pretty much the only solution. Isabela told Rook that she went through something similar (an exile of sorts) in her past, and maybe someday they'd share stories over drinks. Rook was annoyed that politics were stronger than her new allegiances but she just shrugged it off and threw herself into the next job. That upset Isabela more than she let on, so they had some frosty moments when reuniting.

🌺 Is there an object from Rook’s childhood they look back on fondly? (ie a favorite stuffed animal, book, or food)

🌺 It's more like a compensation for not having one, but Rook just likes food. The fancier and more expensive the better. It's not a childhood memory, but a response to not having much when she was younger, and food is comforting as well as an experience with culture.

🌿 Does your Rook have any tattoos? What was the moment when they got them like? If they’re a Crow where is their de Riva brand located? What vallaslin do they have/how did they earn it if they’re Dalish?

🌿Rook has a ton of tattoos, but no vallaslin. She's elvish, and grew up hearing the legends and songs in whispers at night, but she's not Dalish. For her, tattoos they are a way to tell her life story and to choose how she appears to others. She got her first one, a pair of wings, on her shoulder after she escaped from the galleys. It was exciting to her, to have control over her entire body and even the pain meant freedom. She added a rook piece between her breasts after becoming Varric's second in command...it distracts Lucanis and Spite to no end 🤣

🍂 What was it like the first time Rook killed someone? How did they react afterwards?

🍂 Rook's first time killing someone was when she was around twelve years old. Slaves were chosen for the benches based on physical characteristics, but the smaller ones were given a chance to fight their way in. Those not selected would be sold to other houses, usually industrial work like tanning or slaughterhouses. The galley bench meant you had three meals a day and a full shift of sleep, which was an almost-human experience for a slave. A wiry kid thought he could take Xiqaa because she was slender, and he fought with all his strength and cleverness to take her life. She didn't want to kill him, but that was her only choice if she wanted to have any existence that wasn't drudgery, so she did it. She felt anger at him, more than anything else, because she was forced into taking his life. It made her sick, but she wasn't one to give up, even then.

Woe! Rook ask game be upon ye!

🌻 How old is your Rook? How do they feel about celebrating their birthday? What gift has meant the most to them? 🪻 What is the most painful injury your Rook has received? How has it affected them once it healed/scarred? 🌹 What’s the first genuine fight Rook got in with their love interest about? How was it resolved? 🌸 Does your Rook have any siblings or close friends they see as such? Where are they during the events of Veilguard? 🌾 If there was a demon trying to trap/take over Rook, what kind would be the most successful? What would break their hold? 🌱 Was Rook involved romantically with anyone before Veilguard? What was their partner like? How did the relationship end? 🌼 If someone was to ask Spite what Rook smells like, what would he say? 🌷If Rook needed to get away from their responsibilities for a moment, where would they go? Where is their safe space outside the Lighthouse? 🥀 What figure from Rook’s personal past would be added to the regret prison? 🪷 Does your Rook have an irrational phobia? (ie spiders or large man-made objects submerged underwater) 🍀 Has Rook had any near-death experiences? What went through their mind during what they thought was going to be their final moments? 💐 What is the relationship Rook has with their faction mentor? What was the moment they sent Rook away like? 🌺 Is there an object from Rook’s childhood they look back on fondly? (ie a favorite stuffed animal, book, or food) 🌿 Does your Rook have any tattoos? What was the moment when they got them like? If they’re a Crow where is their de Riva brand located? What vallaslin do they have/how did they earn it if they’re Dalish? 🍂 What was it like the first time Rook killed someone? How did they react afterwards?