#and while he was REALLY fucking hurt and called her cruel. he STILL let her have their bed. Their fancy bed that represented THEM

[dootznbootz]

I feel kind of bad about that post I made talking about how Odysseus would never sacrifice his family to save his own skin while I didn't give a name, I hope that person doesn't feel bad or that they get hate. As I don't want to gatekeep someone's interpretation of the Odyssey but also...while I guess you could claim that he would do that, there's so much MORE evidence as to how he would literally rather be stabbed than see his wife and son have even a splinter

Her rejecting him at first put him in a bad position. Honestly, in an alternate universe, where she didn't accept him or trick him that night, I think the poor guy would've cried himself to sleep again in that separate cot. He'd probably cry to Athena and ask if he did something wrong.

It would probably be an "awkward morning" of Odysseus and Penelope silently doing their things (not bringing up suitors' parents right now. And Odysseus would probably tell Telemachus to not say anything stupid.) and eventually, everything would bubble up out of Odysseus and honestly, I could see him straight up begging her to accept him. Not even caring about how he appeared to others.

Honestly, if she DID take a lover in that time...I think he'd either accept it and just...wander? Around Ithaca as a beggar as he doesn't want to be away from them but if they won't accept him, what else can he do? OR if she had another lover, (War flashback of the shitty retelling where Penelope has an affair) he'd probably kill the lover as let's be honest, Odysseus is basically a Yandere, to put it simply. Touch the wife, you get the knife.

And yeah, he doesn't JUST want his family.

"Oh, he wants to not be in constant danger."

"He just wants to go back to Ithaca."

"He wants to be king again."

Boy howdy, he sure does!!! But if, for example, Penelope and Telemachus for some reason moved to somewhere else? IDK, AU where they permanently moved to Sparta, hanging with Helen and Menelaus, and she didn't remarry or something. He'd be like "Shit, okay, BRB." And go to them. He'd probably have them all go back to Ithaca but still, THEY ARE HIS HOME. They make Ithaca home. Any place is home as long as he has them.

Despite having the opportunity to wed the most beautiful woman in the world, he took the Oath so then he could marry Penelope. And even then, it wasn't "for sure" as he had to race her dad. He did so much simply to have the CHANCE to marry her even though he probably wasn't planning on getting married as he brought no gifts. And he did so much so then he wouldn't have to leave the life they had built together and their young baby.

He could've had ANYONE. Went ANYWHERE. Did ANYTHING and he still wanted THEM.

Like??? Holy shit. This guy would do ANYTHING for them. I mean that's kind of why he's considered to be so "scummy" in how ride or die he is for them and basically a bitch to everyone else. That's what makes him SO different from many of his peers.

Person: Would you rather have your family- Odysseus: Family, always. Person: I didn't even say it yet- Odysseus: I don't fucking care. Always family. Person: Even if it meant you got immortality and a hot goddess for a wife? Odysseus: You act like that's a good thing? That was literally torture. Fuck you. I already have a hot Water Wife™ that I get the privilege to drown in every day. She gave me a wonderful Water Son™ who is the light of my eyes and who I am more proud to be the father of than I am of being the son of an Argonaut Person: Even if I give you a million dollars? Odysseus, acting nonchalant while Penelope picks the person's pockets: As if we can't get that on our own. Person: You'd die? Odysseus: I'll set myself on fire if I have to. Person: ...Okay, new question. Would you rather lose your family- Odysseus: The other option. Always. Person: Even torture? Odysseus: I never said I would like it, just that I would do it. Person: Even yeet a baby?! Odysseus: I'll punt the baby if I have to. It's not like I wanna but I gotta do what I gotta do.

And so on and so forth. You GET IT.

[itsbeeble]

LET LOOSE

SUMMARY: Younghoon has hated you since the day he met you. He thought you were stuck up with that better-than-you princess attitude of yours. What better than to just…fuck it right out of you?

GENRE: smut, fluff, angst, crack

PAIRING: Kim Younghoon x afab!reader (ft. eric)

WC: 5.3K

SERIES MASTERLIST

PERM TAGLIST: @juyeonszn @winterchimez

18+ MDNI AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

WARNINGS: Swearing, public sex, floor sex, academic rivals that everyone knows secretly want to fuck, enemies to lovers, missionary (that's a first wow), sexual references, mentions of alcohol, insults (not sexual), arguments, pining, mentions of killing someone as a joke, dry humping for like two seconds, making out, mentions of marking, mentions of oral, guys i think this is the least slutty fic I've written for this series, y/n is stuck in a perpetual state of denial, let me know if I missed anything but i think that's it

A/N: Everyone allow me to introduce Doll's less-slutty cousin!! I can't believe we're over halfway through this collab omg. I'm really glad people are loving this and I hope you guys have been catching the easter eggs me and Fawn have been throwing into our fics 😏

If anyone asked you what you thought of when you thought of local star student, heartthrob, and frat boy Kim Younghoon, you would scoff and cross your arms over your chest. 

“I hate him,” you would say, your lips pursed and eyebrows furrowed until they were practically touching. “I hope his house burns to the fucking ground.” 

One would think this was a gross overreaction, that you probably held a grudge over something stupid, or that he killed your dog or maybe he copied off your essay but made it seem like you were the one who plagiarized. And oh, how that would’ve been much simpler. 

The true story, however, goes all the way back—

“Thinking about me again?” A hand cracks down on the desk in front of you, your mind and body jerking back to reality. 

There he is, you think to yourself, the bane of my fucking existence. Your teeth are already grinding together, your grip tightening around the pencil you’d been using to write your notes and all he’s doing is standing there with a stupid fucking smirk. 

“Why would I be thinking of you?” You bite out and Younghoon places a hand over his heart in mock hurt.

“Ouch, sweetheart.” Your body stiffens and your face contorts with disgust at the nickname.

“Don’t call me that, douchebag.” Younghoon sighs dramatically, dropping down to be at eye level with you. 

“So cruel to me,” a pout, and then he’s smirking again. “What if I was into that, sweetheart?” 

You might throw up.

“What do you want?” you groan, noting how other students have begun to flood out of the lecture hall while you’re putting your things away. Younghoon shrugs, rising to his feet at the same time as you. Had you been a weaker woman, his height would’ve had your knees wobbling and your panties hitting the ground but, fortunately, you were a strong woman. Some of your friends couldn’t relate to that despite your very clear and very much valid hatred for him. 

“I just wanted to see what you were up to,” he shoves his hands into his pockets, rocking back onto his heels. “Considering that we’re now partners for this assignment.”

Your heart drops into your stomach, your eyes widen, and your cheeks are fighting between going pale and burning bright as a tomato.

“What are you— what do you mean we’re partners?” You echo, and his smirk only widens. Your shoulder bashes into his arm while you make your way to the front of the lecture hall where the list of partners is posted. He trails behind you, long legs making it easy to keep pace despite how impossibly fast you seem to walk.

“Aren’t you so excited?” He sounds too excited about this, and you have to physically stop yourself from grabbing him by the neck and choking him where he stands. “We get to work together for the whole semester!”

“I still don’t see how this is a problem,” Dawon tells you her tongue running over her lip as she watches you pace the length of your dorm suite’s lounge area. “Isn’t he, like, super hot? And smart?”

Your lip curls into a sneer and you whip your body around to look at her.

“He is not hot,” your voice has raised in pitch, your arms waving frantically. “He’s— he’s stupid and— and annoying, and he doesn’t know how to shut up, and his face— oh his face is just so— so—”

“Kissable?” Suyeon offers when she makes her way over with a steaming mug of tea. 

“I think rideable is a better word,” Dawon grins at the way your jaw drops at the two of them. 

“He does have a very rideable—”

“Okay, enough!” You snap, your face beginning to burn bright red in anger.

“Ooh she’s blushing!” Suyeon giggles and your face only burns brighter. 

“You both are insufferable,” you throw yourself back onto the couch, your head turned toward the ceiling. “Kim Younghoon is annoying, stuck up, and his face is not kissable or rideable.” 

“So you’re saying you’ve thought about it before?” Suyeon presses and you roll your eyes.

“Hell no. Why would I think about that?”

“Because he’s your mortal enemy and everyone ends up fucking their mortal enemy at some point.”

“Plus he’s a yummy, scrumptious, daddy cupcake.”

“Ugh, so true Dawon.” Suyeon squeezes your roommate’s hand, the two of them grinning deviously at each other.

“That’s— did you just call him— No, that’s not the point. The point is, that’s not true!” You lift your head, eyes wide with horror. “That only happens in books!”

“Not just books,” Suyeon raises her mug to her lips with a hint of a smirk on her face. “Didn’t you hear about the KAT and TBZ presidents?” 

“Oh my god, Eric told me about that!” Dawon gasps. “Apparently they—”

“I don’t need to know the details of their sex lives.” You interrupt again. “God, you two are just…”

“Don’t you just love us?” Dawon winks at you, and you wrinkle your nose in distaste.

“Let’s not go that far.” Her lips twist, and the three of you go quiet for a moment. 

“Why do you even hate him?” 

Ah, there it is. The same question everyone had been asking since the day you started at this school. 

Why do you hate Kim Younghoon? 

“It’s complicated,” you tell them what you always say. You tell them that it’s nothing they should be concerned about. He knows what he did.

“Then uncomplicate it.” Suyeon is much softer than Dawon, her eyes furrowed but not with the mild irritation Dawon has. It’s more…concern than anything else, and for a moment you think about telling them. Think about dropping your petty act, let them know exactly what about Younghoon bothers you so much. 

You open your mouth, and the two girls in front of you lean forward expectantly, practically on the edge of the tiny couch that had been squeezed into the suite.

“I can’t.”

“That isn’t going to work, sweetheart.” Younghoon says, waltzing up to you after your failed attempt to talk your professor into letting you change partners or work alone. Your shoulders are slumped in defeat, something that Younghoon seems to laugh at. “You’re stuck with me.”

“I really hate you, Kim Younghoon.” You lift your head, wanting so desperately to glare at him but you can only find the strength to stare blankly. He kisses his teeth, eyebrows furrowing.

“That’s a bit harsh, isn’t it?” 

“Who cares? It’s true.” 

You want to scream. You want to throw your body onto the ground and throw a tantrum, to cry and whine, to kick and punch the air—anything to get out of this situation. 

“All this because I got a better grade than you in one class in high school.” Younghoon shakes his head, his hair falling into his face and obscuring his eyes partially. Your heart thuds against your ribcage (because of the memory, obviously). 

“You really think that’s the only reason I hate you?” Hint: he’s right for once. Would you ever tell him that? No. As far as he knows, you have endless reasons to hate him. As long as he lives, that list will grow. In fact, it would be better if he knew that you’d be pissed if he died before you because that means he tried to escape one last competition, but you’d hate it even more if he died after you because that means he would win one last time.

“That’s all I can think of,” he shrugs and you kiss your teeth. 

“Disappointing me again, douchebag.” He scoffs at that.

“Of course I am. When am I not upsetting you about some bullshit?” 

Oddly, this time you don’t answer him. At least you don’t give him an answer to that question. 

“Listen, Kim Younghoon,” you place a hand on your hip, shifting your weight to lean mostly on one leg. He leans toward you a bit, slightly angling his head as if trying to hear you better. “You’re the most annoying, egotistical, snobbish boy I’ve ever met. You always have this, like, need to be better than me— than everyone.” 

Younghoon inhales, his eyebrows knitting together and his tongue poking the inside of his cheek. You can see the irritation in his gaze, can see him fighting the urge to snap at you and it has your stomach churning. When he finally responds, it’s not exactly what you expected. You thought he would snap back at you, tell you to go fuck yourself, to call you the same insults you just called him.

He doesn’t.

“Meet me in the library at 4 o’clock.” Your head jerks back, your nose wrinkling with confusion. 

“Excuse me?” Younghoon just smiles coyly, already turning away from you.

“Don’t you wanna get this project done so you don’t have to deal with me?” He can practically see the wheels turning in your brain, contemplating all your options. 

“I mean yeah, but how do you know if I’m even free—”

“You’re always at the cafe at the same time as me,” Younghoon glances down at you, stepping to the side as he pushes open the door of the lecture hall. You say nothing as you push by him. “I’m starting to think you’re obsessed with me, sweetheart.”

“That’s not— I would never— how—” You sputter, stumbling over your words and waving your hands in the air while you try to come up with something to say. Something to deny. Younghoon begins to smile again, coy and near-mocking. 

“I don’t hear you actively denying anything.” His eyes widen and he bends forward, lowering his face to be near yours. Your cheeks are heating up, your mouth opening and closing like a goldfish. Words. You need words. Why is nothing coming out?

“Shut the hell up, douchebag.” He laughs and your stomach churns again. Is he laughing at you?

“I’ll see you at 4, sweetheart.” Younghoon starts to reach his hand toward you as he leans up, but thinks better of it and drops it back to his side. 

“Yeah, sure,” you scoff and turn your back to him.

Fucking prick.

“You have got to be kidding me,” You toss a stack of papers onto the table you’re sitting at, glaring at the notes Younghoon wrote on the whiteboard. He’d rented a study room for a few hours, giving you time to start working. 

Or, at least, try to start working. You had made no promises about not trying to kill him and making it so neither of you could get any work done. Although, you had thought about running him over with your car so that you would have an excuse to work on this alone.

The blinds over the door had been shut, blocking anyone from looking in and potentially seeing you try to kill a man. Lucky for you.

“What’s so wrong with what I wrote?” He squints at the board and you push yourself out of the old, creaky chair you’d been sitting in. 

“It’s contradictory!” You complain, reaching around him for the eraser. He grabs your hand before you can do anything, turning on you with a scathing glare. 

“It’s not, though!” 

His grip tightens on your wrist when you pull it away. You narrow your eyes, but he doesn’t waver at all. There’s heat behind his gaze, heat that makes you nervous. You know he won’t hurt you, that’s not who he is. The heat though…that makes you nervous. It’s the same heat you’d felt several times in the past few weeks. 

“Let me go, Kim Younghoon.” He leans his head toward yours and your throat begins to close, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Not until you tell me why it’s contradictory!” He snaps. You swear your ears start to ring, your vision closing in until all you can see is Younghoon. 

“It’s— why does it matter so much to you?” His grip finally loosens and you rip away from him with a huff. 

“Because you’re putting down my work! Again!” He flings his hands into the air and you bite your tongue. “Why do you hate me so much?”

A lump in your throat, tears in your eyes, and Younghoon drops your hand. He looks defeated, his shoulders slumping and his lips set into a deep frown. 

“I just,” Younghoon sits in his chair, the old wood creaking under his weight. You stand in the middle of the study room, hands by your sides and your eyes flicking around nervously. Your posture is so tense compared to his, your eyes flitting around anxiously. “I’m tired of this shit. Not knowing what the fuck I did wrong. You never give me a reason and, at first, I was fine with it. I liked the casual rivalry. But now I’m just…it’s been four years, and I still don’t know what I did.”

“Choi Yuna.” It comes out fast, the name of your ex-best friend. So fast that Younghoon doesn’t catch it, he just stares at you with a look of pure confusion.

“What?”

You say her name slower this time, tugging at the edge of your shirt. “Choi Yuna, you dated her from freshman year until late sophomore year.” 

“Okay, yeah,” he leans forward with his elbows on his knees. “What does she have to do with this?” 

Your cheeks are burning, and you know he can see it. See how flustered you are.

“She was my best friend.” You bite on your tongue, trying to find the right words. 

“I know,” he said, and you purse your lips. “She talked about you all the time.”

“That’s funny,” you scoff, a spark of anger returning to your tone and to your facial features. “Considering she’s the reason I hated you for so long.”

“What are you talking about, sweetheart?” Younghoon huffs, rubbing at his eyes with his palms. You can tell he’s frustrated, so you speak quicker.

“She— she knew that I liked you.” His eyes snap up, wide and bulging. “She knew that I wanted to ask you out in freshman year, so she made sure to get there first. I— at first I thought that you knew that’s why she did it.”

“You thought that I knew your best friend wanted—” Younghoon huffs and rises to his feet. 

“Just—” You hold up your hands as he begins to step toward you, slowly backing you into the wall. “Just let me talk. I thought you knew, yes. She told me that you asked her out first and that she just— she just agreed. So yeah, I started to hate you. I started arguing with you and every answer you gave in class because I was just so…angry at— at everything, at myself.”

Your back is against the wall now, and you’re slowly curling in on yourself as Younghoon gets closer. 

“And…?” he cocks an eyebrow and your swallow thickly.

“By the time I realized that it was all her….at that point it was just easier to keep hating you. To keep everything at bay.”

“Everything?” He echoes and had you been looking at his face instead of his chest, you would’ve seen the smirk you’d always claimed to hate plastered onto his face. 

“Yes,” you groan and lift your head. Your breathing hitches in your throat, your body pushing even closer to the wall when you finally see just how close Younghoon is to you. 

Just a few inches from your face is his own, his eyes dancing from your eyes to your lips. His breathing is, compared to yours, slow and even. Inhale, hold, exhale. You can see his chest rising and falling with the rhythm. 

“Why—” you clear your throat. “Why are you so close to me, Younghoon?”

“No legal name this time?” He murmurs, one of his hands coming up to rest on the wall beside your head. His head dips down and now his lips are brushing against yours, every breath you take mixing with his. “What happened?”

“I just— you’re a little close to me.” Your hand presses on his chest, but it's as if you aren’t even trying to push him away. “We— we probably shouldn’t.”

Younghoon kisses his teeth, shaking his head at your suggestion. Arguably, it’s a wise choice, but right now he has you exactly where he wants you. If he lets you leave now, who’s to say you won’t pack your bags and take a one-way flight to Brazil?

“I’ve been waiting,” he says and you squeeze the hand on his chest into a fist. “For three years for you to get your head out of your ass. I’m not letting you go now that I have you.”

“Have me?” Your tone shifts into one of challenge rather than the nervous air you’d surrounded yourself with. “If anything, I have you, Kim Younghoon.”

You yank him to you by his shirt, reaching up on your tip toes to place a firm kiss on his plush lips. You hear a groan rumbling in his throat, the hand not on the wall wrapping around your waist and squeezing tightly. Your lips mesh together, but it isn’t messy. It’s slow, calculated just like every move either of you had made against each other. Every argument, every challenge. The build-up. It all led to this, and you’re not letting him go this time. He’s yours and Choi Yuna can’t take him this time. 

With a new fervor, both of your hands come to lace into his thick strands of black hair, effectively trapping his lips against yours. He drops the hand that was on the wall, both hands now on your waist and sipping under the loose fabric of your shirt. You gasp at the cold feeling of his hands on your skin, and he takes that opportunity to sneak his tongue into your mouth. It’s experimental, the way his tongue caresses yours, pushing gently and letting you suck at the warm muscle. He listens to the pretty little whimper you let out when he does the same thing in return and a shiver runs down his spine. His hand slides up the back of your shirt, emerging from the collar and lacing into the strands of your hair. 

Air. You had to come up for air. You needed to breathe. Your lungs are aching, but fuck his lips are addicting. They’re soft, and warm, and they feel so good against yours. 

Your knees cave slightly, your mind going fuzzy and Younghoon rips away from you to steady your body, his knee shoved between your legs to help keep you upright. 

“Sweetheart,” his tone is lighthearted, but you know he’s scolding you. “You need to learn to breathe. I’m not leaving just because you need some air.” 

A pretty little whine escapes you, but Younghoon is quick to realize that it’s not because you can’t find the words to respond to him. Well, if you think about it, that kind of was the reason. 

Your hips are rolling down on his knee, your hands gripping his shoulder for dear life as you ride his thigh. Your head is rolled to the side, your eyes squeezed shut as you try to find the right pace and the right amount of pleasure to ease your arousal. Younghoon’s jaw drops, and he feels his dick twitch in his pants at the sight of you trying so desperately to relieve yourself on him. Unfortunately for you, he notes, your jeans seem to be in the way of you achieving your pleasure. 

“Sweetheart,” he coos but his voice is shaky and he thanks god that you’re too far gone to notice. “Look at you, trying so hard to get yourself off.” 

You whine, and his breathing hitches when you try to ride him even harder. 

“Is it not enough?” He presses and your eyes fly open with the quick nod of your head. But then you shake it, and his heart clenches at the confused furrow of your brow.

“‘S not!” You whine. “Need more, Hoonie.” 

He smiles when you reach one of your hands down, undoing the button of your jeans and trying desperately to shove them down as far as they can physically go without interrupting your ministrations. To your dismay, they barely get anywhere before Younghoon has to set you down and starts to tug them down your legs gently. 

You never thought you would enjoy watching a man get down on his knees for you, never thought you could have this much of a reaction to it. Younghoon though…the sight of him looking up at you through his lashes, the nearly pathetic look in his eyes when he sees just how soaked your panties are— it’s enough to have you practically crumbling to the ground, your lips crashing against his again and forcing him back to lay on the ground. 

His hands are everywhere— your hair, your hips, your ass, anywhere he can reach. He squeezes the soft flesh of your ass when your lips trail down his neck, sucking little marks into the skin and pulling groans and quiet whimpers from his throat. 

Your hands run under his shirt, and he weakly tries to help you push it over his head to be tossed somewhere else. You shush him, a playful look in your eye as you place a finger on his lips. 

“Gotta be quiet now,” you unbutton his jeans, slowly dragging them and his boxers down and he lifts his hips to help you slide them down to his knees. He doesn’t bother with your shirt but makes quick work of your bra and shoves it up. You’re sliding your panties down your legs when he shoves his hands under your shirt, squeezing and tugging at the soft mounds of flesh on your chest. A quiet moan at the feeling of him tugging at your nipples, and his hands falter momentarily when you wrap your hand around the base of his cock.

“Don’t hurt yourself,” he teases and you scoff while lining him up with your sopping wet pussy. You know he’s big, both of you do, but you’d never admit that to his face. Never admit that you’re nervous about taking it all in, nervous that you won’t be able to take him at all.

“As if your little dick could possibly hurt me—” your voice catches and he watches with strained amusement as you begin to sink down on him. Your walls are tight around him, practically squeezing the life out of his poor cock while you try so desperately to keep sliding down on him. Younghoon pulls his hands out of your shirt, sliding them down to your hips and gently rubbing them as a means to ease your discomfort.

“What were you saying about my little dick?” Younghoon sneers and you have to fight back the whine that threatens to slip out of you. He’s just over halfway in when you force yourself to give up, the stretch beginning to be too much for you to handle. “I could’ve prepped you, y’know? Made this easier for us both.”

You can only lower your head onto his shoulder, biting harshly into the skin while he flips you around and pushes your legs up toward your chest. 

“Hold these here, sweetheart.” You do as he says, gasping sharply when he begins to sink into you. 

“Fuck, Younghoon!” 

“Shhh,” he kisses you gently while continuing to press into you, using the width of his shoulders to gently spread your legs a bit further apart. “‘M almost there, I promise.”

“‘S too much,” you whimper, a tear slipping out of your eye and dripping onto the carpeted floor below you. “‘S too much, Hoonie.”

“I know sweetheart,” he coos and looks down at where the two of you are connected. He fights the sudden urge to cum when he sees the fluttering of your walls, sees them clenching around him, and trying to force him out. “I’m almost there.” 

Another whine from you and he quickly slides the last three inches into you, clapping a hand over your mouth to muffle the scream you release. He stays still for a moment, listening to the sound of you sniffling, and turns his head briefly to look at the door. A shadow passes by and he exhales quietly. 

“And you were worried about me being too loud. Who’s the one with a hand over her mouth, hm?” You can’t don’t respond and Younghoon pulls out entirely, leaving just the tip inside of you, and when you whine and let go of one of your legs to reach out for him, he sinks into you in one harsh thrust. 

The moan you let out behind Younghoon’s hand is guttural, and your back arches off the floor. His thrusts are rapid, yet he doesn’t falter in pattern. He sinks deep inside of you, punching into you so deep that you swear he’s going to hit your cervix. He lets his hand drop from your mouth listening to the way you try to hold back your noises. Every whine, every whimper and moan and cry, you try so hard for him. 

“Such a good girl,” he coos. “Keeping quiet and letting me fuck her real good.” His voice is so quiet, the words practically hissed into your ear and it’s so hot that your eyes roll into the back of your head. 

Your grip on your legs loosens and then your hands drop them entirely, letting them fall onto his sturdy shoulders. He watches as both of your hands disappear under your shirt and he feels a pang of irritation as you begin to play with your nipples. They draw sharper noises out of you, higher in pitch and slightly louder. Although, Younghoon can’t complain when the combined pleasure has your cunt fluttering around him and fresh waves of arousal washing through you to make it easier for him to fuck in and out of you.

“Hoon,” your whine is loud. Too loud. “So close, please!” 

Younghoon hushes you again, his hand running up the side of your leg and squeezing at the flesh of your thigh. 

“I know, sweetheart,” he tells you. “You gotta be quiet f’ me. Gotta be quiet so nobody walks in, okay?” 

“I can’t.” You sob out and Younghoon pushes himself closer to you, practically folding you in half so he can kiss you. You open up immediately, whining and letting him slide his tongue in for you to suck on.

Younghoon’s hips begin to stutter, his body shaking against yours, but you’re closer. Your body spasms, and you nip at his tongue to keep him close to you while you cum. Younghoon grunts at the combined feeling of your bites and the clenching of your walls around his length. It’s all a bit too much and it only takes a few more thrusts before he’s shuddering and collapsing against you, spilling ropes of white hot cum inside of you. 

He can feel the combination of his and your cum beginning to squeeze out of you around the tight fit of his dick inside of you, but he doesn’t have the strength to pull out of you just yet. You’ve stopped biting at him, your eyes squeezed shut and your mouth slowly sucking at the warm muscle he continues to provide you. 

Your body is sore, your thighs aching and likely bruised when you walk into your dorm a few hours later. You hadn’t gotten any work done after that, spending the rest of the time making out in a chair and grinding on each other like some damn horny teenagers. You know you’re a disaster, but you’re more than content with that knowing that Younghoon looks the same (if not worse). 

When the door clicks shut, it’s dark in the suite and you silently thank god that Dawon and Suyeon are asle—

“Where the fuck have you been?”

The lights flick on to reveal your two friends at the counter in the suite’s living area. Dawon looks furious, but Suyeon looks like she just wants to go to be. You grimace, dropping your bag off your shoulder and onto the ground next to you. 

“Out.” Your voice is hoarse and you grimace. You imagine your throat is a little bit bruised from…things.

“Doing what.” Dawon snaps.

“Or who, judging by the looks of you.” Suyeon clicks her tongue and rises from the couch. “Look at you! It looks like someone tried to eat you!” 

Dawon squints at you, and you turn your gaze to the floor. 

“You fucked him, didn’t you?” She inquires, but you both already know the answer. 

“Who?” Suyeon frowns. “Who did she fuck?”

Your nose wrinkles, and you turn to her with a look that says I think you know. Suyeon tilts her head, her eyebrows knitting together in thought. 

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” 

“Oh. OH— OH MY GOD—”

The Tau Beta Zeta frat house isn’t as bad as you thought it would be. At least not party-wise. The moment you and your friends walk in, you’re engulfed in noise, drunk partygoers, and scattered members of the frat. In one corner you can see what looks like two members of the frat making out with their girlfriends. Haknyeon and Changmin, Dawon said, Too bad they couldn’t find a private space. Damn exhibitionists. A smile quirks on your lips just slightly. Oh, if only she knew the truth.

You barely acknowledge her, however, scanning the room for Younghoon. 

“Eric!” You grab the passing boy by the arm and he jerks to a stop, nearly spilling the contents of two cups. 

“Yo!” He grins at you, and you can just faintly see the crinkle of his eyes under the red baseball cap of his. “What’s up?”

“Have you seen Younghoon?” Eric purses his lips in thought.

“You aren’t gonna kill him, right?” You laugh and so does he.

“No, not anymore. Or…I might if he doesn’t show up soon—”

“BOO!” Someone’s hands wrap around your waist lifting you off the ground and spinning you as you scream for him to put you down. Eric slips away, casting his eyes behind him to watch you and Younghoon as he approaches a girl in the corner. 

“Kim Younghoon!” You snap, swatting him upside the head. Your boyfriend smirks at you, bending down to try and give you a kiss that you block. “Don’t kiss me, you douche! That wasn’t funny!”

“It was kinda funny,” he laughs, swooping in to give a kiss that you choose not to block this time. It’s deep and slow, and he tilts his head to get a better taste of you when you bring your hand to the back of his neck. 

“Mmm, I think I like it when you don’t hate me.” He murmurs when he pulls back, grinning wickedly when you place a kiss on the corner of his mouth. 

“Do you now?” 

“Mhm.”

“Shouldn’t have scared me then.” You scowl, turning away from him and beginning to stalk away. He scrambles after you, frantically trying to keep up despite the crowd. 

“Where are you going?” He whines, grasping at your fingertips. You turn your head, a coy smile playing on your lips. 

“We gotta let loose, don’t we? We’re a little tense right now.” 

A puddle of drool is practically forming in Younghoon’s mouth and he’s suddenly in front of you, moving with a renewed fervor. 

When the door of the third bedroom on the right of the third floor shuts and clicks locked, nobody questions it. Not the thumping, nor the loud grunts and moans. 

When someone needs to let loose, people know better than to interrupt. Especially when it’s Younghoon and his former-crush-turned-enemy-turned-girlfriend.

© itsbeeble. do not steal, claim, or repost.

[yoisami]

˚₊‧୨୧ ENOUGH FOR ME

[૮₍ ˃ࡇ˂ ₎ა]: somewhat inspired by taylor swift's "daylight". it's impossible to not fall in love with her lyrics tbh. never wrote for sae before so i hope the quality is acceptable :')

tags. sae x gn!reader, 838 wc, relationship trauma, hurt/comfort, damaged self-esteem, mentions of cheating, use of profanities.

it was hard for you to believe that you were enough.

all the company you've kept since adolescence weren't enjoyable. whether it be friends, exes — none of these relationships brought you joy, let alone satisfaction.

your so-called friends in high school always seemed to have scattered hints here and there that they disliked your presence. it was a rare occurrence to see a genuine smile on their faces when you initiated conversations with them, and you were used to walking on the very edge of every path.

what is it that you lacked that constantly resulted in apathetic expressions when you put your opinion in discussions?

while it was difficult to bandage the splits in your heart, you managed to cover it well with white lies until graduation arrived, when you finally deleted all their contacts with a self-pitying smile.

and god, you really thought your relationships in university would turn out better — you managed to convince yourself that good people would soon enter your life, and that eventually, someone would be able to rescue you out of the ocean of misery you've been swimming in.

sure, your friends were nicer, and friendlier. but your boyfriends weren't. the first one only fed you a teaspoon of affection during the six months you dated, and lazily cut the ties with you over text claiming that he was no longer interested, and that you were too boring.

your second relationship was the most painful out of them all. you were discarded in the corner of his mind like an old doll after a month, and he began pursuing 'prettier' girls in your major. your kind heart was fucking stupid for granting him another chance to fix up the mistakes he made, because it ensued even more arguments that seared your skin burning red. his words pierced like daggers, and he finally did it for you when you watched him kiss his girl best friend as a dare. without realising, he was bleeding you dry as he pulled his friend closer, hands sinfully exploring her skin with a dirty smirk on his lips. in one night, he eradicated your confidence — it came crumbling down like an avalanche.

the reflection started to look ugly; you frowned upon your features, your wounds, and your misfortune. with a negative light cast over your sight, you were persuaded that you were simply not enough for anyone.

today marked two years since the end of your cruel relationship with him. your internal wounds still remained as scars on your glass-like heart. the memories resurfaced from time to time, but itoshi sae locked them away in the vault of your mind, throwing the key in a faraway void when he declared his feelings to you, and you only.

you were hesitant, your trust for people severed, and you held iron shields over your heart. your interest lingered for a while, only for you to anxiously reel it away when you recalled all the negative outcomes of your past relationships. you were certain that a relationship with itoshi sae would end up the same — bitter emotions and broken heartstrings.

but oh... you were delighted to see how wrong you were. you were so so wrong.

you've never seen someone love you like tomorrow was going to end — like it was his last chance at life; like you were enough for him.

sae kissed you like you were the most beautiful being alive; he embraced you like you were his most prized possession. his devotion, love, protection and care was combined into an ethereal mix that came in the form of his heart, and he gave it to you with zero regrets.

you could find him at the bottom of every cliff, with strong arms that extended out to you and a small smile that meant he'll catch you if you ever fell.

as someone who was deprived of genuine affection and care, it was truly impossible to not fall in love with him. to others, sae was condescending, and often unfriendly, but to you, he was the warmest person on a cold night.

and he was the one who dived in that ocean to bring you back on shore.

on this bleak late-autumn morning, sae reminded you again that you belonged with him. each kiss he pressed on your shoulder blade teemed with love, each pat on the side of your waist evoked butterflies in your stomach, and each whisper against your earlobe was like a feather that delicately tickled your skin.

and as you turned to face sae on this rainy morning, you're both relishing the presence of each other. his hair was disheveled from the movements he made in his sleep, and your cheeks were rosy from the warmth of the bed — neither of you looked perfect in this moment. still, you were everything he ever wanted, and you couldn't ask for anyone better.

the corners of his lips turn upwards, and sae sealed his affection for you with a fervorous kiss, as he held you close to his heart.

© yoisami 2023. plagiarism, translation and distribution of my works outside of tumblr is not permitted.

[lokislittlemidgardian]

Hey ria could we possibly get something with winter soldier bucky where hes still at hydra and one of the new people that hydra had taken is a little and she’s scared and Bucky comforts her and becomes her cg, if not that okay💝

Soldats princess

Content - age regression, cg!winter soldier, swearing, violence, kidnapping (its hydra), comfort, needles, angst, fluff, lots of Russian, sort toys, not proofread, don’t like don’t read.

Summary - after being kidnapped by hydra the winter soldier saves you from fighting.

Authors note - that was a terribly written summary but I can’t think of any other way to describe it, I really enjoyed writing this should I make it an au? Reblogs are greatly appreciated, I hope you enjoy <3

Translations = derzhi yeye na meste = keep her still, ty, vstavay pora trenirovat'sya = you, get up it’s time to train, soldat, ty v poryadke = soldier, are you okay?, soldat = soldier, otpusti devushku, ona budet bespolezna dlya vas = let the girl go, she will be useless to you, kakaya u tebya oderzhimost' soldat = what is your obsession soldier, ona moya = she is mine, tvoy bezopasnyy malen'kiy golubka = your safe little dove, golubka = dove.

“Get your fucking hands off me!” You screamed at the top of your lungs at the agents strapping you down to the medical bed.

You couldn’t remember much about how you got here. You were sitting on your sofa with a glass of wine before falling asleep and then you woke up in a white van.

You would give anything to be back in your small apartment right now.

“derzhi yeye na meste” you heard one of the agents shout out, you did everything you could but you couldn’t avoid the inevitable when you felt the large needle go into your neck.

The next thing you knew you were out.

───── ⋆⋅◇⋅⋆ ─────

Bucky was woken up to the sound of screaming and swearing coming from the medical room, he didn’t recognise the voice it must be new.

Many cryptic thoughts ran through his head for the next minutes before he was brought out of his thoughts by the sound of silence.

Silence was what distracted him now, there was always screaming but never silence.

A few minutes later he saw one of the female agents walking over to the cell that was opposite him with a girl in her arms, she was beautiful.

He watched her roughly throw you onto the creaky mattress and walk out locking the large bars behind her.

At least he wouldn’t be looking at an empty cell now.

───── ⋆⋅◇⋅⋆ ─────

“ty, vstavay pora trenirovat'sya” the colonel addressed you while the other soldiers were on the floor training “fuck off” you said spitefully glowering at the cruel man looking down at you.

A few minutes later you were escorted out of the room with a large cut across your arm.

Settling down in your cell later that night you were examining your poorly wrapped and treated arm feeling the tears flow down your face since the first time you got there.

You just wanted to be home, you wanted your family and your friends back.

The worst thing was you were beginning to understand the insults they would throw at you, not because anybody told you just because you would get them every spare moment of the day.

You didn’t know how much more you could take.

Scooting up against the peeling wall you pulled your bedsheets up to your chest trying to resemble on of your old soft toys only making you cry harder at the loss.

You were so lost in your sorrow that you didn’t see the strong man standing at the bars of your cell.

“soldat, ty v poryadke?” A mysterious voice called out only making you more frustrated “why doesn’t anyone speak English, I don’t know what your fucking saying!” You shouted through tears banging your head against the wall.

“I can speak English if you’d prefer it” the man said calmly in an accent that strongly resembled American but had gone under the influence of many years in this dreadful facility.

“I’m sorry for shouting” you whimpered thinking you were in for another punishment, you wanted one of your arms to not hurt at the end of the day.

“It’s alright” he said eyeing you warily, he hadn’t seen someone this vulnerable in many many years.

Your mind was completely broken at the reassurance you hadn’t heard in months and you entered your age regressed mindset unprovoked.

Desperately trying to stop yourself from shaking you looked up at the tall man who was talking to you “please help me I don’t wanna be here anymore” you sobbed.

The soldier didn’t know what was happening, but he was suddenly overwhelmed with the need to take care of you.

“Stay there” he said firmly before walking out to find the colonel. He was sitting at a waterlogged wooden desk working on paperwork, alone.

“Soldat?” He didn’t get a second word in before the soldier pinned him against the wall by his neck “otpusti devushku, ona budet bespolezna dlya vas” “kakaya u tebya oderzhimost' soldat” the colonel asked breathlessly as the metal hand tightened against his throat.

“ona moya” he said lowly eyeing the cowering man in front of him, after a few seconds he signaled to one the guards to open your cell door.

Hearing the patter of your feet he walked over to you and possessively put his arms around you “tvoy bezopasnyy malen'kiy golubka”

───── ⋆⋅◇⋅⋆ ─────

You were waiting in the cold cell waiting for Bucky to come back from a mission like you so often did except this time you were more vulnerable because you were feeling little.

You always missed the soldier when he was gone but it was extremely enhanced at the moment, you were going through a stage when you were little almost everyday and with him gone you felt very alone and scared.

You were pulled out of your thoughts by the loud sound of the iron bars of the cell were opened an agent roughly throwing the large man in.

“Be gentle” you shouted with a frown at the agent resulting in an eye roll before they locked the cell and walked away “I’m alright little soldier” he said protectively pulling you into his chest.

The two of you stood in silence for a few minutes before be placed you onto your uncomfortable cot bed that was pressed against his “I have something for you” he said reaching into his bulletproof vest.

He pulled out a slightly squashed soft toy out and fluffed it back up before giving it to you. It was a grey rabbit with soft but slightly shaggy fur and it had shiny black eyes.

You had gone so long without a soft toy you almost cried on the spot “thank you” you said brightly stroking the soft fur delicacy making the soldier smile out of the corner of his mouth.

You made him feel like he had a purpose like he was surviving for someone something he hadn’t felt in years.

Sitting up against the peeling wall he pulled you into his side stroking your hair gently as to not hurt you “go to sleep golubka, I’ve got you your safe”

───── ⋆⋅◇⋅⋆ ─────

Taglist - @bootlegmothman420 @littlephia @whippedforhongjoong @youngstarfishdinosaur @patchesofwork @buggyateabug @folklorefairie @friendlyneighborhoodkillerbunny @sparklybuck @2-gay-possums-in-a-trench-coat @hopelesswritergall @stuckysgirl27 @sleepyprinc3ss @chaotic-little-witch @looksthatkilledd @teddybearsgrr @fluffyblanketgecko

[eydi-andrius]

Side Characters End Up Alone (Gojo Satoru x Reader)

cw/tw: angst, unrequited love, childhood friends, drunk gojo, hurt with no comfort

a/n: listen to footnote by conan gray for the added feels

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

"Let's just date each other. What do you think?" Satoru asked, laughing with a hiccup.

It hurts.

Seeing your feelings being laughed at after all those years. He knew……he knew you loved him. More than just a friend. He knew and he brushed it off. He knew and rejected you far too many times that you can count.

What the fuck is this about?

"C'mon! Don't just stare like that. What do you think about being my girlfriend?" He joked again. This time with a tap to your shoulder. He was breathless as he laughed at his unfunny joke, alone.

"You're drunk." With a swallow, you tried to remove the glass of alcohol he was holding. He called you earlier because it turns out his girlfriend broke up with him again.

It was his fault. He never really gave her the time she deserved. How many times did she give him a chance? You don't really know.

"Eh! Don't be like that! Let me drink my heart out. I thought friends join you when you're suffering from heartbreak?" He pouted with unfocused eyes. You came here a bit late. You were scared because he sounded so drunk on the phone. And drunk Satoru can be a handful to others.

"Stop being childish. Let's go." With a firm resolve, you grab the glass he was holding and hoist his shoulder to yours to assist him to walk outside.

When you came, bottles of different types of alcohol were placed on the booth. He never drinks this much. It was your first time seeing him this broken. They have broken up before but you have guessed, this time, she might have stepped down on him and called quits forever.

Swaying, you did your best to help him out. He was heavy and the both of you barely walked straight.

He was singing a tune you don't understand while moving his body along. It was hell as you tried your best to move him downstairs without breaking both of your necks.

Somehow, once you stepped at the last drop of the stairs, he turned quiet. Concerned as to why he shut up all of a sudden, you looked up to see that he was staring down at you. His cheeks were tinted pink, his eyes watery and he was breathing through his mouth, letting out the smell of alcohol.

"But really, would you go out with me?" He asked again but this time you snapped.

How many years have you loved this guy? You grew up together. Joined Jujutsu High as a late transferies. Witnessed his blooming friendship with Geto and Shoko. Being there with him when Geto and him had a fall out.

All your life, you have been by his side as a side character. All your life, he knew how you felt. Satoru is no stupid. He knew and still he did this. Something gut-wrenching and cruel to someone who had been with him from the start. Someone who loved him so much that she was willing to let him go and held to their friendship. Because she told herself that it was better to hide and bury her true feelings. Friendship is more important than hers.

"Stop making fun of my feelings!"

Your scream was loud to the point that some patron looked at the direction where you two were standing. Some were too drunk to notice the drama. But it was enough to catch attention.

Eyes blurry with tears and breathing heavily to stop the sharp feeling of hurt, you looked up and stared at his blank face.

Shit.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

He was drunk. You should have been more patient. More lenient.

Looking around, your anxiety spiked through the roof when you saw that the people near you two were staring and muttering to each other. The buzz was not that loud but it was loud for you. Panicking, you stepped back and ran outside.

The smell of the pavement and the freezing wind welcome you as you race outside. Usually, the after rain calms you. Yet, the feeling of hollowness filled your space. It was cold. And you feel so alone and hurt.

Part of your brain regretted it. Some believe you have done the best thing.

You're not drunk, you shouldn't have done that.

He deserved it for being an asshole.

Your mind quarrels with each other as you try your best to breathe properly after that sudden jog. Being an office worker, exercise was never your strong suit.

What will you do now?

You bit your lip when you finally composed yourself. You're so stupid. Satoru was drunk and he probably didn't mean to hurt you. Right?

You hugged yourself for comfort, finally feeling the chill outside. If you don't go and find your car soon, you're probably going to get sick. But there is no way that you will just leave Satoru alone while he is that drunk.

Deciding to go back and find your friend, you were surprised to hear your name being called out and seeing Satoru stumbling forward when he finally saw you.

"I-I'm really sorry. I was drunk and not thinking. I- I never meant to hurt you."

Trigger words.

Most of the time, you let it go. Well, it was your fault anyway. Deciding to still be friends even though your interest for him is deeper than love itself. You know it was suicide to still be friends with him but you rather have that than losing him altogether. He was that precious to you.

However, right now, you realized something important. A person who has no self-respect will receive the same thing from the people around them. Although it hurts, and it was a slap in the face. And you probably shouldn't have said it because you were too angry, there was something inside you that snapped and decided this was the best course of action. You deserve more than what Satoru offers you.

"I'm so sorry too. I knew it was my fault for still continuing our friendship even though I know I will lose and there will be more times that you will hurt me unintentionally by acting friends because I told you so. But god, Satoru, I fucking hate you!" There, you said.

His blue eyes, to whom you wanted to only and will always look at you, widen with surprise. Even in these dim lights, his existence shines so beautifully.

"I cannot do this anymore. I am done! I am so done being this stupid! I am done trying to follow the crumbs you give me each time. My feelings are always true, Satoru. And I don't deserve being trampled and played like this." Warm tears run down your cheeks as you heave and try to compose yourself, afraid to pass out from anger.

"You know how much I love you but you always, always, do this shit to me! Stop playing with my heart!" Running your hand through your hair, you looked around and blinked trying to stop the overflowing tears that seemed unending.

"This…..this will be the last time you will do this to me. There will be no us anymore. No friendship. No ever. I'm done. We're done. You will never get away from hurting me again." Pulling the bracelet he gave to you when you were young, you threw it on his face.

The beads scattered and exploded when your pull made the old and worn rope, keeping them together, snapped in two.

With a final look of pain and the sight of his defeated face, you walked towards your car and left.

He didn't even bother to stop you. You knew he wouldn't. He never did all those years. Even though he sees the pain in your eyes as he enjoys the company of his lover in front of you.

You watched him for the last time in your side mirror. You watched his silhouette getting smaller and smaller, and just standing there, with no plans to move at any moment.

With one last look, you turned your head at the road ahead and you promised to yourself that this would be the last time you will do this.

This time, all your love will be given to the deserving.

And that person was you.

[suzukiblu]

Ko-fi thank-you sentences for pile o’ rats, who gave me dealer's choice for the WIP I wanted to write for; Knockout gets knocked up.

“Do you want them?” Superman asks just as gently as before, not taking his hand away. Superboy wants to cry, he thinks. No, he definitely wants to cry. 

“Yeah,” he croaks. “I–even if they're not mine, I just . . . someone's gonna put them in a lab and hurt them, I know they are, I know it, and I–and I just can't let that–let that . . .”

“Alright,” Superman says, and squeezes his shoulder. Superboy chokes again, and it comes out more a sob than anything else. 

“I don’t know what to do,” he manages, and feels absolutely helpless. 

“That’s alright,” Superman says, low and soothing. “You don’t have to know what to do yet. I can help you figure out your options, and we’ll go from there. Okay?” 

“We’ll”, Kon registers, and immediately bursts into tears. 

“Sorry!” he sobs. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I fucked up so bad–!” 

“You made a mistake,” Superman says, simple and merciful and squeezing his shoulder again. “You didn’t do anything to hurt anyone else. You didn’t do anything wrong or cruel or on purpose. And it’s not anything we can’t fix.” 

“I don’t know how,” Superboy chokes, turning his head away and desperately trying to rub the stupid tears off his face and pull himself back together, because why is he being this stupid and this isn’t Superman’s problem, and he’s–and he’s so stupid! Why is he always so stupid?! And he doesn’t want to look stupid in front of Superman, much less this weak and pathetic.

Even if it’s true. 

But if this kid gets stuck in a lab, whether they’re his or not . . . well, he’s the reason Knockout’s in prison right now. He’s the one who took her down. 

Fuck, she was pregnant when he took her down. He hit her! While she was pregnant! He hit her really hard! And like, yeah, she was trying to murder him and stuff, but–just, shit, what’s wrong with him?!

This kid is so fucked. There’s no way this kid isn’t fucked. They’re gonna grow up in a lab and if they ever hear anything about him and Knockout, it’s gonna be about how fucking fucked up they were, and–and–

He doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t even know how this could get fixed, no matter what Superman says. 

He’s never . . . he’s never doubted anything Superman told him before, but . . . but the situation is just so fucked, and he doesn’t even have options. How could he? Just–how? Ever? He’s not a legal adult, he’s not even really a legal person; they’re not gonna let him have the baby. Even if they say they’ll let him, they’ll find an excuse to keep them later, or a reason he can’t have them, or–or something. 

His place definitely isn’t babyproofed, if nothing else. He doesn’t even know how to babyproof a place, he’s just vaguely aware that that’s a thing that people do when they have a kid. Like, normal, responsible people who the government isn’t going to take said kid from.

Who’s he kidding? He doesn’t even have the kid to have them get “taken” from him. Knockout’s in custody and he’s just a stupid fucking not even legal idiot who hit her while she was pregnant. 

“We’ll figure that out, kid,” Superman says kindly, and Superboy folds his arms and tries not to start crying harder. It’s less that he’s folded his arms, though, and more that he’s . . . hugging himself, probably. But he really doesn’t want it to look like he’s doing that in front of Superman. 

“What, the government’s gonna let me keep a baby in my shitty beat-up old place with zero security that everybody knows is my home address?” he asks bitterly, digging his fingers into his arms. “They won’t let me do that. They’ll say it’s not safe. Fuck, it’s not safe!” 

“It’s not, no,” Superman agrees. “But there’s still options, alright? Why don’t you just . . . come with me, for right now. Have you eaten yet?”

“Um–I don’t think so,” Superboy says, trying to remember. He honestly . . . yeah, no. “No, uh–the call woke me up, and then I just waited for visiting hours and then I–then I just came here, so . . . no.” 

“Alright,” Superman says. “Then we’ll get lunch, and then we’ll talk about your options while we eat. Okay?” 

“Um . . . okay,” Superboy says, swallowing uncomfortably. He scrubs the last of the tears away, still feeling stupid and embarrassed. Superman squeezes his shoulder one last time, then drops his hand away. Superboy misses it immediately, even though he doesn’t even deserve the–the comfort or whatever, right now. He fucked up. Really bad. He doesn’t deserve comforted, and especially not by Superman.

But he can’t bring himself to turn it down, either. 

“Okay,” Superman says, giving him a faint, regretful little smile. Superboy feels even more embarrassed. He’s bothering Superman with this, like he thinks he has the fucking right to, but . . . but he didn’t know where else to go, or who else to talk to, or . . . 

He just didn’t know where else to go.

[faela404]

Hello, I saw that you are open for some requests. May I request some platonic drabble for Dazai, in a story where Dazai and reader taking care of a stray kitten, reader is Dazai younger sibling

That is all, thank you and I hope you have a lovely day 💖

ahhh this is such a cute idea omg-

dazai x gn! sibling! reader (platonic !)

☆ light & love ☆

☆ during his time in the port mafia, dazai had never really been apart of your life. i mean sure you knew your brother existed, you had spent some time together but, since joining the port mafia you had barely seen him.

☆ recently however, dazai had been reaching out, something to do with a ‘new job’. it was weird to see your older brother after so long but it wasn’t unwelcome.

☆ over the course of a few weeks dazai and you had become a lot closer, similarly to how you were as children but, it was clear he had changed. you may not be as close as you used too but, you could still tell when he was hiding behind his fake joy.

“y/nnnnn! look! i got you and i some of the finest coffee this cafe has to offer” the taller man offered a smile to you before placing the cup of steaming coffee infront of you.

“did you actually pay for this osamu? or did you steal your coworker’s card again?” you asked inquisitively, raising an eyebrow towards your ‘dear’ brother.

he let out a loud gasp at the notion. he always did have such a flair for the dramatic huh?

“how dare you assume i would do such a thing” he raised a hand to his chest in mock offence, “this is an outrage, my own sibling, my own flesh and blood, doesn’t believe i’d do something so nice for them” he stared up at you, “just for that, you’re paying next time”

“…”

“so you did take his card then, yeah?”

☆ while you and dazai had definitely become closer, you didn’t trust eachother fully.

☆ however, that all changed one stormy night.

☆ you had never enjoyed walking down the streets of yokohama, after all this city was extremely dangerous, especially at night

☆ that’s when you heard it.

☆ a soft ‘pitter’ ‘patter’ behind you, at first you thought it was the rain until, you felt a small prickly feeling across your legs

☆ there, by your feet, stood the cutest, smallest little kitten you’d ever seen.

☆ her fur was soaked from all the rain and her little eyes were big and rounded as they stared right up at you, almost begging

☆ how could you refuse?

☆ carefully you scooped up the seemingly stray kitten and began towards your apartment until you remembered..

☆ your landlord doesn’t allow pets-

☆ you’d be kicked out in an instant if he ever saw the little guy

☆ you couldn’t just leave her here, i mean she could get hurt really bad or get sick from the cold, it’d be cruel! but, you had no where to take her-

☆ now wait a damn minute. didn’t dazai say his neighbours dog had been ‘screaming bloody murder all fucking night’? if his neighbour had a loud dog, then..

☆ his building allows pets!!

☆ but, would he even want to help you with this? i mean he is the one who lives there, he might not want a kitten running around

☆ it was too late now though, the poor baby was gonna get a cold and you were already on your way to his apartment building

☆ if only you knew what you was getting yourself into..

“‘SAMU! NO! SHE CANT EAT THAT!” you had said that line atleast 80 times in this past week. osamu had been more than happy to help you out with your new little friend, turns out your ex-mafiaso brother had a big soft spot for cats. how purrfect!

(i’m sorry, i couldn’t resist🥲)

that night, ‘samu and you had bathed and dried that little kitten along with feeding her until she passed out on osamu’s futon.

you had then proceeded to spend the next 2 hours arguing about what to call her and trying to convince ‘samu that “suicide”, “poison” & “noose” were not appropriate names for a kitten.

☆ you had never felt so happy before

☆ you had your brother back, even if you refused to admit it, you had missed him tremendously

☆ your trust in eachother had strengthened over the years as you two continued to take care of your little kitten

☆ dazai still housed her in his apartment but pretty soon you’d move to his building to be closer to her (and your brother but, you’d never admit that to him)

☆ ya’ll had become a happy little family

☆ you, dazai and himari

a/n ! - this was adorable omgnskskwkodow, thank you so much for the request this was a lot of fun to write! it was just what i needed after my test so yk-

also from what i found (on google lol) himari means sun or light and love (hence the name of the story) i just thought it was cute considering how dazai doesn’t really think he’s truly deserving of love and how light/ the sun is usually related to good and kind people which dazai would definitely not see himself as (cause he isnt #dazaislander) - anyway i just wanted to add that cause i thought is was cute!

[doe-eyed-fool]

Fallen {Chapter Twelve}

Alastor x (fem)Reader

Angel walked over to his bed and sat down, still not looking at me. I stood awkwardly a few feet away from his door, unsure of what to say. I look at Angel, he held himself with a mixture of anger and a sadden on his face. The only thing that broke the silence was little snorts and oinks from his pet pig, Fat Nuggets.

He waddles up to Angel and nudges his leg with his nose. Angel picks him up and pets his head with a slight smile. "How long have you had him?" I ask. Angel finally looks at me. "A long time." He tells me. "He's gotten me through a lot of tough shit." Fat Nuggets snorts and licks Angel's hand.

I smile softly. "He's a good pig." Angel chuckles and nods. "He is." Angel then pats the space on the bed next to him. "Come on." I walk to the bed and sit down. After a minute or two I finally gained the nerve to ask. "So...Is everything ok?" Angel stopped petting Fat Nuggets for a second before continuing. "No not really." He says under his breath.

"Does it have to do with that?" I say, pointing at my head where the bruise was on his. Angel freezes. "Fuck, I thought I covered it." He places a hand on the bruise, wincing slightly as he made contact with it.

"What happened? If you don't mind to talk about it." Angel sighs heavily. "Remember when I told you my boss is a dick?" Oh...I see. I look down at my hands in my lap. "I'm sorry Angel." Angel shrugs. "I'm use to it." I look back at him. "You shouldn't be. You shouldn't be getting hit at all." I tell him firmly. I'd be a fool to ask why wouldn't he just quit. But I knew in his line of work, quitting wasn't an option. Which only made his situation all the more heartbreaking.

"Fucker took almost all of the money I made last night too, just to add insult to injury." Angel says angrily. "What I would give to give that asshole a piece of my mind." I place my hand on his, he flinched before relaxing slowly. "I wouldn't mind giving him a piece of my mind either." I tell him honestly.

Angel chuckled weakly. "Eh, what can you do? I knew what I was getting into when I first met the bastard. No point in trying to change things."

"Why not? I understanding leaving isn't an option but...Can't Charlie help you at all? He's an overlord, but Charlie is royalty, he'd have to listen to her." Angel's feint smile dropped, his expression becoming more serious. "No way. I ain't getting no one involved in this." I blink in surprise. "But Angel-"

"I mean it. Do not tell Charlie. Or anyone else at that." Angel says firmly. I sigh and nod my head. I hated to agree though, I didn't want to see Angel get hurt like this anymore.

Angel might have been a bit rash and cruel sometimes, but once you got to know him, he wasn't half bad. And he certainly didn't deserve to be treated in such a way. Angel then sighed before wiping his puffy eyes. "Alright. Enough with this pity party." He stands up from the bed and set Fat Nuggets down.

"I need to do something to take my mind off of that dickhead for a while." He walks over to his closet and sorts through some of the various outfits he had. "I think I'll call up Cherri and go shopping. It's been a minute since we went out together." I couldn't help but wonder who Cherri was.

Angel pulled out a short black skirt along with a matching tube top, as well as some thigh high socks and high heels. "You wanna come along?" He asks as he turns to me. "Huh?" I tilt my head. "I haven't see you leave this hotel since you got here. Don't you want to get out for a while?"

"Uh, I would but..." I trailed off. Angel waited for my excuse. "I don't think it would be a good idea for me to leave here at the moment." I tell him. Angel raised an eyebrow. "Why not?" He asked. "Well, Alastor said-"

"And stop right there." Angel cuts me off. "You're letting smiles tell you what to do now? I get you two are close and shit but still. He's not in charge of you."

"I know that, but he said I should stay here. I think he's concerned for my safety." I say, half lying. Angel rolls his eyes. "Oh please. You'll be fine. Besides, you're gonna be with me and Cherri. Nothing's gonna happen to ya." I take a minute to think about it.

If what Alastor said was true, Vox might pull something in order to harm me in some way. "Aaaand, it would make me feel better if you came along." Angel says with a smirk.

I cross my arms. "That's not how you get people to do things for you." I say with a playful smile. "Come ooooon! It'll be fine! Please?" I shake my head. "Ok fine. But only for a little while." Angel's smile brightens. "Great! Step out for a sec so I can change and I'll be right out."

I do as he says and walked out of the room to give him some privacy. After a few minutes Angel steps out of his room, and we were off.

Later we show up at the front of the mall, I was shocked to see just how huge this mall was. It was the biggest mall I've ever seen, having at least 12 floors. And of course, it had that special hell touch to it. "There she is." Angel says as he spots his friend Cherri.

She was a pale white demon with one eye in the center of her face. Her hair was wild, and she had hot pink tattoos littered here and there. "Come on." He takes me along. Cherri noticed him and a wide grin fell onto her face. "Heya Angie!" She greets him. "Who's your friend?"

"Hey Sugar Tits. This is Y/n, she's new to the hotel. I wanted to get her out of that place for a while, hope it's ok that she tags along." Cherri shrugs. "If you're cool with her, so am I." Angel, Cherri, and I walked into the mall.

We spent a good few hours going to different stores and trying on all sorts of clothes. Cherri and Angel were really close friends, there were points where I felt a little left out. However, it was quickly dismissed when Cherri would focus on me. She was actually pretty nice. Wild. But nice.

"Oh! Y/n, let's go in there. That place has some really cute clothes, I just know they'll look great on you!" Cherri says as she takes my hand and leads me inside a shop.

I was in need of some new clothes, so this was nice. I tried to gently reject any suggestion of revealing or skimpy clothing, however. But, luckily, Cherri and Angel, had great taste in clothes.

I was able to find plenty of new outfits, though I couldn't help but feel a little guilty about them paying for it all. For sinners, they really could be very sweet.

I made sure to thank them before we all left the store, we headed to a few more places inside the mall, and even grabbed a bite to eat, before finally leaving and making our way back to the hotel.

However, we were suddenly confronted by a group of dangerous looking demons...

(lol sorry this one was short)

[miyuuuki]

Kinda Crazy…

SYNOPSIS: Dating vic was a roller coaster, more-so considering his violent and cunning nature.

PAIRING: Victor Criss/Masc!Reader

WARNINGS: slut shaming, body shaming, misogyny, slightly toxic relationship.

A/N: quite different from usual content, but I still very much love IT. This is kind of loosely based off of Selena Gomez’s Kinda Crazy song. Really trash but hope y’all enjoy loll.

———

You and Vic were a fling, a couple who lasted first semester and barely making it to second.

you did love him, but truly, you couldn’t handle his violence and his behavior.

Even though vic was the “least toughest” or “nicest” member out of all the bowers gang, he was still cruel.

He posed as though he had strong morals, but you knew it all to be untrue.

You’ve noticed how everyone you were once so close to distanced themselves from you, and how anyone who looked at you wrong, always seemed to be hurt.

You’ve even witnessed the countless acts hes done. Burning kids with cigars, jumping people who either wronged you in the past or touched you.

Being misogynistic out of the blue, screaming insults at the losers, especially to both Beverly and Richie.

Calling Beverly, insults such as “skank”, “slut”, “whore”, and many more.

Beating or humiliating Richie, with insults.

You felt as if you couldn’t even touch, speak, or even look at someone without them getting hurt. And you were tired of it, because no matter how much you tried communicating with him, he’d repeat the same empty promise.

“I promise I’ll change, I’ll try.”

So eventually you were fed up and ghosted him, and not too long, broke off the relationship.

By now you still have lingering feelings for him, though barely. At least that’s what you think.

Though you couldn’t say the same for Vic. He’d been calling your phone line, harassing you at school and so on.

And the fact your houses were opposite of each-other, didn’t help at all either.

He could see through your window, and easily visit your house. Though he hadn’t done that, yet.

Right now you were in your bedroom, doing a school project with a classmate.

And it also so happened to be Greta. A girl who slept around, especially with that Patrick guy. It’s rumored they first slept together in 5th or 6th grade.

Greta, was a bitch. No sugarcoating, right now she was barely doing anything. All she had tried to do was you.

“Greta, just go home. I’ll finish the project.”

“If you say so.” She says with a wink before leaving.

You sighed before continuing, you were disturbed by a phone call, once you answered a familiar voice appeared.

“Why did I see Greta fucking Keene coming out of your house?” You heard Vic’s voice.

“What’s it to you?” You said with a annoyed tone.

“Did you do something with that fucking whore!? If so, (name), I’ll fucking kill her! Do you hear me!?” He screamed into the microphone.

“Fucking shit, vic. Do you hear yourself!? You sound like Henry! Fuck off already, it’s been months. Move. On.” You said anger evident in your tone.

irritated, you pulled out the plug of your landline as that wasn’t the only call you received that day.

Though you failed to see Vic watching you through his window.

“Vic? The fuck are you doing here?” Greta said, angered that she was interrupted from harassing beverly.

“What did you and (name) do the other day at his house?” He asked with a shallow tone.

“What’s it to you?” She said.

“What did you do, Greta.” He demanded.

“Why the fuck do you need to know? Don’t tell me you’re still not over him. It’d be pathetic if it’s true.” Greta said laughing.

“Did your whore ass sleep with him!? if so I can gut you like a fucking fish right now.” Reaching into his pocket to hold the switchblade he stole from Henry, though not yet showing it.

“If I said yes?” Greta said with a laugh.

“I’ll make you regret even looking in his direction.” Vic said, grabbing Greta’s hair with a tight grip while grabbing the switch blade.

“Hey!! L-let me go! What the fuck are you trying to do!!?” She screamed.

“Teaching you a fucking lesson, goddamn whore.” Vic responded.

Here you were, in history class watching everyone present, one thing you noticed was Greta not being fucking present.

‘Where the fuck is this bitch, I didn’t fucking write shit for her to read off of just so she can be fucking absent.’ you bitched in your head.

You rose your hand, and asked to go to the bathroom. The teacher agreed so you went out.

“Is she skipping..?” you mumbled wondering.

she said she’d be here today, now where the fuck is she.

You went into the bathroom and was about to go in a stall before someone grabbed the jacket you were wearing and slammed you into the wall.

“What the fuck-! Vic!? You’ve got to be kidding me..” You said, already annoyed.

“Tell me. What did you and Greta do!?” He said.

“Why the fuck do you need to know, leave it alone Vic.” You responded.

“Fine then. You made it easier for me.” Vic said before walking out.

“Easier, how!? Vic!” You said confused.

You thought wondering what he could mean by that.

‘Holy shit.’ You thought before running out after him.

———

TAGLIST:

@akiraackerman19 @lizzhearthz @call-me-nev

[zeephyre]

CR3 EPISODE 78 SPOILERS

god. i love this fucking campaign. this one's gonna be long as shit.

despite how genuinely depressing this episode was, it also made me really giddy because i love hurt/comfort and there's no point of that if there's no hurt or angst.

im probably gonna go down the line with each member of bells hells, discussing what i can remember off the top of my head, i hope i don't forget anything in my rambles cause this was one of my FAVORITE episodes of the whole campaign and that's saying something.

i love ashton. i have loved ashton the most since the very beginning and for a lot of it i was really worried that ashton was deliberating running from opening up with bells hells while also going out of their way to have one-to-one convos with different members that were deep and insightful but never went as far as they needed to.

i am projecting a bit with analysis of ashton but taliesin does it best when rp'ing for ash and generally talking abt him in interviews. ashton reminds me of myself, which is not a compliment and is actually really terrible. ironically enough, ashton said the same thing abt fcg. i have spent a lot of time hurting myself by sabotaging the things i love, or embracing the worse parts of myself simply because it's become habit. there's always going to be a piece of you that finds the sadness, anger, guilt, emptiness, whatever -- comforting because it's all you've known.

ashton mourns a life that he never lived. i find myself mourning versions of myself that i would hate but still...yearn for them like an itch or an ache that comes from hurt. ashton wanted their family back, in whatever desperate, corrupted way he felt he should have done it, and hearing how he described feeling like he looked past the cautionary tale simply because he thought the pain they caused him should have meant something else made me think of imogen.

beautiful, sweet, powerful, dangerous, sad imogen temult. i won't comment on how everyone berated ashton because that's not really surprising nor was anything imogen said or did pertaining to ash shocking whatsoever. but... there's smth abt the destruction that ashton did to feel close to the idea of a family that doesn't really exist that just parallels so well with the fight that imogen has been undergoing since childhood. against the red storm, now against the call of ruidus, and the temptation and attachment she felt and still feels to her mother, despite everything liliana has done that jeopardizes everything imogen is fighting for.

abandoned by her mother, shunned by her own town, ignored and feared by her father.

going back to ashton again, there's smth to be said abt the guilt and shame that comes from making horrible choices that put yourself and the ppl you love in danger that forever changes the way they perceive you. I've done it. i had to fight to make things better. it can't be enough to love someone enough that would die for them, you have to fight to stay alive. if not even for yourself, for THEM.

i know it can be unhealthy to rely on others so much, but it's certainly not easy to fight for yourself when the foundation isn't there. learning how to love without throwing yourself on a blade is more important than self sufficiency. that comes afterwards.

i...don't like laudna's reliance on delilah briarwood this episode. i... there's smth very ironic about laudna being worried abt ashton's betrayal and the way he hurt her and the others with his deception and selfishness, coupled with my understanding of the absolute fucking insane, borderline stupid danger of even SPEAKING to delilah briarwood, let alone working WITH her.

i think it's hypocritical, but i don't feel any animosity towards laudna. just..sadness. delilah is a parasite. a disgusting, cruel, evil bitch who wants laudna to be... that weak little girl easily crushed under her thumb. she may preach abt laudna's latent power and potential, but laudna won't serve her purpose if she TRULY gains the strength to cast delilah aside forever. i don't think delilah was telling the truth abt their fates last episode, and that's why i so deeply want laudna to toss aside that defeatist mindset that has only gotten worse since episode one. maybe im wrong, maybe delilah was actually being genuine.

i kept watching imogens/laura's face during laudna's moments speaking with delilah alone, and it just made me sad because she didn't need to be alone. she had imogen, but she still felt the need to run and hide away. god i just want her to be happy.

i really liked the doll she made for ashton, even though delilah made it really creepy for no reason, the dramatic cunt she is. her assessment of ashton as being a child may seem rude or even a projection but to me it's the truth. ashton has not grown past his childhood. past abandonment and pain and mistrust and love that never lasts and always hurts. that shit followed them to adulthood and anyone who has any number of mental illnesses and childhood trauma will tell you that it's so easy to feel yourself stuck as a reactive, stubborn, bitter little kid trapped in a shitty cycle of pain. both ashton and laudna this episode felt like they were both broken, sad children interacting. laudna clinging to comfort from delilah, hiding away, mentally reverting to the person she was the last time she was in whitestone. ashton, clinging to his lost childhood and the acceptance of laudna's doll, the admittance that they'd never had a doll before. god... they're so sad, im gonna scream.

fcg apologizing for forcing faith down ashtons throat was sweet and so was ashton apologizing for being so bitter abt fcg's faith. now i just need fcg to apologize for the multiple instances where he put laudna in danger by casting turn undead with no acknowledgement of laudna afterwards.

fcg saying that ashton didn't love anyone or care about anyone hurt me a bit, because while i understood why they were saying those things, it was so... obviously untrue. before all of this, ashton has shown again and again and again how much he loves bells hells, and especially fcg. i know that ashton almost dying over smth so arrogant, desperate and foolish would make anyone question what someone's idea of "love" is, but still. it stung. maybe because i have been there. i know what it's like to be doubted and mistrusted because you ruined smth good callously and carelessly.

chetney... chetney really loves fearne. i don't care if y'all don't get it or if y'all still think chet is some joke character with no substance, I never understood that shit and i simply never will. chet and fearne probably have the best relationship in all of bells' hells -- and yes, that includes imogen and laudna because god knows those two have shit brewing under the surface that needs to be HANDLED, i.e: laudna being defeatist abt their relationship even tho it's barely begun.

chetney's a good man. him going after fearne was the best choice and im glad he gave her a couple laughs before she went off to wander. he cares about her so much, and he BELIEVES in her so much, and i love them. i LOVED the way he went in on ashton. hurting fearne by making a shitty decision and letting her bear the burden of watching ashton die right in front of her was... bad. it is very complicated but, that's pretty cut and dry.

i like him testing ashton again and again. telling him to leave but also being glad they chose to be brave and stay, and face the consequences of their actions. attacking ashton to see what all of any of that shit was even for. (im a little bummed that the shard didn't fully wake up yet but...i love the suspense im just impatient).

FEARNE. CALLOWAY. i love fearne, and i love the breakdown during the first part of the episode. it was such a raw moment and it established the tone of the episode so quickly. im glad that fearne knows that while ashton fucked up royally, her rejecting of the shard and complacence in ashton's plans was also royally stupid. i don't think her being terrified of taking the shard is bad or stupid, it's actually one of my favorite fearne character choices. no one ever actually asked her WHY she didn't want it, and when she said she didn't want it, it was still decided by the hells that the shard would go to fearne. (they're very shit at communication, poor babies). im happy that she specifically clarified that ashton did not threaten or manipulate her (plus he gave her many opportunities to not be involved with his bullshit if it made her uncomfy so im hoping the insane critters who keep treating ashton like some evil, predatory person finally stfu).

fearne being so scared of a version of herself that was sad, lonely, and "evil" to the point that she chose to believe that it was ashton's destiny to take in both shards is so... so rich. i hope she talks about that more in the next episode because i don't think she's EVER brought it up since exu. i don't think the shard would change fearne's personality but god the fact that SHE is so afraid of herself and what she's capable of.... AHHHH. love this damn party.

i hope liam knows that expect really painful roleplaying from him when he comes back cause i really do need ashton and orym interactions like i need air.

the choice to go to the fey realm was brilliant and i missed nana morri so it's a win for me. bells hells COULD have done what they've been doing for a while now, which is ignoring the pain they're all feeling and pushing forward, but ashton doing what they did was the straw that broke the camel's back and im GLAD because i have been begging them all to have real conversations with each other that don't get cut short prematurely for whatever reason.

i do hope that they do really lean into the self care aspect involving therapy and talking through their issues with ALL of the members present or even in groups, and it isn't just fun and games. they're prone to distraction. i love my little guys.

:( two weeks without bells hells. is it thursday, yet???

[dootznbootz]

I saw something that said that if Odysseus had to choose between himself VS. Penelope and Telemachus he'd always choose himself. How he'd be miserable and he would try to weasel his way out of it but if it really was no other option he'd still do it and...

Odysseus is an incredibly selfish man, that's not wrong. And he definitely has his cruel streak. But his whole thing is his unconditional devotion and loyalty to his family while basically being a rat bastard to everyone else. He literally puts himself in danger for them multiple times, even just in their NAME multiple times.

But this is the same man who pretended to be INSANE for at least a MONTH so he wouldn't have to leave them. I guess you could say it's because he's a coward or because of the prophecy but if he didn't care he wouldn't have saved his son. But even with all that, to have a mad king? That leaves your kingdom vulnerable. There could've been a fucking usurping. Ithaca doesn't have much fertile land and yet he destroys some of it. Even then in some versions, it's him literally running to scoop up his baby, "hearing thundering hooves past his head". Putting himself in danger in multiple ways as SAVING HIS SON MEANT HE WAS GOING TO WAR. WAR ISN'T SOMETHING YOU CAN GUARANTEE THAT YOU'LL COME BACK FROM.

EVEN IN THEIR NAMES, HE PUTS HIMSELF IN DANGER FOR THEM. Calypso asks what is so lovely about his wife that makes him not want her, a beautiful goddess. Said goddess has been abusing him for years yet he still says that he will ALWAYS go back to them putting himself at risk just DEFENDING Penelope and he's literally dragged back to her grotto immediately after. He even tells her the only way he would stop trying to get to them is if he were dead.

He is deeply hurt by her rejection but even then HE ASKS FOR A SEPARATE BED. He calls her cruel and stubborn and he's tearing up but he never threatens her despite her rejection could literally end bad for him. Paris for example, after Helen rips into him about how Menelaus was the better man and warrior who didn't back down, he basically tells her "Hey! You should be happy your husband's alive! ...Get in the bed."

Like??? he puts them first often, even if it means his own discomfort!!!

I don't think he would let Penelope or Telemachus suffer so he would be free. That feels like the fucking Tele-GONE-y to me. You can keep his "rat bastardness" there because if he was for example, being dragged to Hades or something, he'd give Penelope a look and they'd probably have a plan for him to get out ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ He's sometimes said to be the son of Sisyphus. Who's to say he wouldn't do that as well? And if it was him "doomed to eternal damnation". He'd be trying the whole time to get back to them. (that'd...honestly be a perfect punishment for him.)

Idk, They're selfish about practically everything but each other

[heartlvrrss]

haechan x reader

Word count: 1127 (puku puku pow pow)

requested? Yes( •̀ ω •́ )y

Warnings: Small mentions of being gutted (not anyone in the story itself don't worry I'm not cruel) THIS IS ALSO NOT PROOF READ SO IF ITS SHIT IM SORRY T-T other than that nothing (I think)<3

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

It was finally halloween, the time of year where you would usually call up your best friend lee donghyuck to do all those little halloween things before scaring and bullying kids.

You originally wanted to do a little party with your friends but apparently everyone all of a sudden had to do something, which, in your opinion was total bs. But at least you still had haechan, god did the man piss you off at times but he was a good friend, a cute one maybe even pretty.

“That actually looks like shit” Haechan had the audacity to say while you were carving your pumpkin that you were actually working very hard on, but your ego came back up after seeing his. “You have no right to talk, I cant tell if your trying to make a version of jack the skeleton that was dropkicked as a baby and fell down the stairs 1 million times or if your just making a pumpkin self portrait” You snapped back

“My mother told me to be an honest person, so I told you the truth, no need to insult me!” He replies with wide eyes. Before you could say anything more both of you heard a bell ring, a grin crept up both of your faces before running to the door with vegetables.

You both fought to open the door until u slapped him “get your fatass hand away from the handle I wanna see our victim first” you whispered loudly, the bell rang one last time before you opened the door.

You both saw a young girl in a unicorn costume

“Well hi! What are you this halloween?” You asked

“Isn’t it pretty obvious” the child said, which shocked me with the attitude. She really deserves a vegetable now.

“Is it a fairy??”

“I’m a mermaid you dumb bitch”

I turned to hyuck and mouthed “goddamn..” 

“Oh.. Uh… Choose 3 candies from here” This girl scares me i literally might shit my pants on the spot.

You and hyuck watch as the girl skips away to her mother that was waiting by the end of the driveway, still in shock.

“You were supposed to give her the vegetable!”

“Well she’s got fucking anger issues i don’t wanna get cursed out by a child again!”

“Whatever”

I walked back to the kitchen with hyuck right behind me, while i try to extend my legs as much as possible (which TOTALLY not an attempt to trip him)

“What the fuck are you doing ___”

“Its a walking habit hyuck, have you not known me long enough to know that?” you ask with a fake betrayed look on your face

“__ Ive know you for far too long to know thats not a habit of yours. Its a poor attempt of trying to trip me. YOU are the traitor not me.” He grabs his chest and looks away in a fake dramatic manor

you roll your eyes “drama queen.. Well whatever lets watch a movie we can finish the pumpkins tomorrow.” and you gave him the bright smile that hes always loved.

When he saw that smile his heart leaped as usual, whenever he saw you he swears he might have a heart attack; just how could a human be so perfect, is what hed always ask himself whenever he saw you. You are the epitome of perfection to him, and thats exactly what hurt him, he wanted you so bad but he just didnt want to ruin your relationship with him incase you didnt like him back.

Hyuck decided to watch scream on whatever illegal website you could find on your tv, when the part where Casey becker was gutted you flinched a bit immediately holding on to hyuck for comfort, as he just cuddled you closer in response, wrapping you around with the blanket. You looked up at him admiring him for a bit, your heart skipping a bit while the movie plays in the background, you then lean in to kiss him lips barely brushing against each others, thats when you heard a ring your house phone was ringing. A bit freaked out thanks to the scream movie you were watching, you walked up to the phone with hyuck trailing behind you, a bit bummed out the moment was interrupted. 

“Hello? Who is this” the fear in your voice evident

“You dont need to know who i am” the deep voice replied, you look at hyuck to see if he had anything to do with this, but he looked equally confused

“Do not fucking play with me right now, im watching scream right now and you using that voice is gonna make me shit my pants now fuck off and dont joke around” you hang up pissed “just some creep” you told hyuck “ok whatever, can we please contin-” his voiced was cut off by the phone ringing again.

You turn around and pick up the phone again 

“Dont fucking hang up on me bitch”

“What the fuck can i not just enjoy my halloween for goodness sake” someone started loudly banging on the door

“Open the fucking door”

“No”

“Open the fucking door NOW”

I cover the phone dk the person couldnt hear me “hyuck please open the door”

“Yes ma’am” I walk next to him with the phone still by me, as hyucks hand slowly reaches for the door knob he opens it

You scream and jump into hyucks arms scared for what would happen, only to be met with a loud 

“SURPRISE!!!” you open your eyes to see a bunch of your friends laughing at you including haechan 

“That was not fucking funny!” you say close to tears, looking at giselle holding a phone “And you YOU i thought no one was coming!” you jumped out of hyucks arms close to tears (angry tears be so real)

“Woah woah we are so sorry ___! Youre right that wasnt funny” hyuck apologises hugging you

“Thats right you better be sorry” you say as you cried

“I think we should leave.. seems like somethings going on here and i dont wanna be a witness…” you hear ningning say as the group walk away

°°°°°°°°

“Are you mad at me?” hyuck asks worried

“You actually thought my tears were real? I didnt know i was that good of an actor” you reply, a bit shocked he believed your stunt

“You were lying??” 

“Ofcourse i just wanted to get the away so i could kiss you in private” you say as you grab his face and give him a sweet pure kiss, finally able to continue the urge after you got rudely interrupted right when you were about to kiss him. 

“So are we official now?” he asks

“ofcourse”

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

@polarisjisung here hua! ik im very late but I'm finally finished T-T I hope you like it<3

[stevesbipanic]

2 hurt/comfort #Bhits5k

Congratulations on the 5K! You are awesome and deserve it

Thank you <3

2. "What do you want?"/"I want you to choose me!"

Steve was ready to spend Valentine's Day alone this year, well not completely alone, he and Eddie had decided to drink the capitalist holiday away with booze and dumb movies. Robin was supposed to join in too but fate had other plans when Nancy finally asked her out a couple weeks prior. Steve didn't mind though, he was happy for the girls, and he was happy to spend time with Eddie.

The two boys had grown closer after the almost end of the world. Eddie made Steve laugh, a real laugh deep in his gut and with a smile so wide it crinkled at the edges. He never made Steve feel stupid, often explaining quietly things the kids said that he didn't understand. He had held Steve as he cried when he came out, sandwiched between him and Robin.

So no, he wasn't really alone, he was going to be spending the day with Eddie, pushing down the feelings that he would've wanted to spend the day with Eddie for other reasons.

He was working the opening shift, happy couples coming in to rent cheesy romcoms that they'd ignore for the sake of other activities. His and Eddie's movie selection was tucked safely under the desk. Other years he may have been just like them or spending it doing dumb shit with Robin like he had last year. He looked up at the sound of the door's bell jingling, the usual welcome spiel dying on his lips as he sees Eddie come up to the desk.

"Hey, Stevie, bad news about tonight?"

Steve feels the disappointment start to pool in his stomach, "Don't tell me Gary called in sick, you said you got the night off?"

Eddie's face pinches into an awkward expression, "No, no, still got tonight off, um well, I guess it's more good news, I kinda got a date tonight."

The disappointment plummets into dread, "You did?" He tries to cover the shock, forcing a smile onto his face, "That's, that's great, Eds."

Eddie's nervous face brightens, "It is? Oh good, I was worried you'd be upset."

Steve's face softens, his heart taking a backseat, "Course not Eds, I'm happy for you really."

Cause that's how it had always been hadn't it, others before himself. Anything different felt like his King Steve days again. So, Steve watched Eddie go, to go get ready for his date, to go leave Steve behind. The shift stretched longer after that.

When Steve finally got home the pool of dread had seeped into his veins as a deep feeling of loss. He knew it was selfish, that Eddie wasn't his. Steve dumped the bag of tapes on the table, the cruel humor of fate letting the cheesy romcom he'd slipped in there thinking it would be funny to watch with Eddie fall onto the floor.

"Fuck it," Steve said cracking open his first beer of the night and popping in the tape. Steve was crying by the end, an hour in he'd opened his stupid dad's stupid bourbon, beer bottles clattered around on the ground. The credits were rolling and Steve wished he could have a cheesy happy ending too.

He didn't even realise the phone was in his hand and ringing until he heard the Munson's answering machine. The word vomit tumbled out of him.

"I'm not happy for you Eds. I'm not happy because it should've been you and me together tonight, should've been me you were getting all dressed up for, should've been me getting your flowers and should've been me holding your hand while we got fucking takeout and watch our stupid movies that I watch so you do the stupid fucking impressions just to make me laugh and it should've been me that got to kiss you tonight, it should've been me Eds because I want you to choose me."

"Stevie?" Steve had been to wrapped up in his confession to hear the click the phone had made when it had been picked up halfway through. Steve slams the phone back into the receiver in surprise, panic slowly overwhelming him. He'd ruined everything, now Eddie knew and he'd never want to see him again, he'd go off with his new boyfriend and replace Steve. Steve couldn't keep his mouth shut and kept one of his best friends, he'd had to be selfish, he hadn't changed at all.

Steve didn't know how much time had passed, he had sunk to his knees, jamming him his palms into his eyes and sobbing. Gentle hands wrapped themselves around his wrists pulling them slowly from his face as a soft voice soothed him.

"There you are, sweetheart."

"Eddie?" Tears threatened to spring up again.

"Say. Say it again, Stevie, what do you want?"

Maybe it was a tear-induced dream but the answer came easily, "I want you to choose me."

Chapped lips brushed against his as the two boys sunk into each other, when they pulled away Steve squinted in confusion.

"But your date?"

"Cancelled it, had a feeling."

"Want to watch dumb movies with me instead?"

"It's a date, sweetheart."

Prompt List

[random-imagines-blog]

The Impaler {Billy Loomis x Female!Reader x Stu Macher}

Wordcount: 7487 (Oopsies) Summary: Billy gets jealous of the fact that you have to work with Stu on a project. He makes sure it’s a real hands-on sort of experience. Notes: Contains: choking, blowjobs, rough blowjobs, bondage, m/f penetration, facial, threesome, degrading talk, insults, swearing, dominating behavior.

You could hear him at your window. Music was playing from your speaker softly, not loud enough to interrupt your concentration, and not loud enough to hear the jiggling of the lock. You looked over your shoulder to see a knife coming through the bottom, trying to get at the lock. You probably should have been frightened. There was a murderer loose in Woodsboro. That could be him now, trying to get into your room. Any moment now you were expecting to see the stupid mask that he apparently wore, rising into view. But you weren’t scared. In fact, you were just feeling exasperated, and tired. It had been a long day and you weren’t in the mood for any visitors. You rolled your eyes and went back to your book, hoping that he would give up, that he wouldn’t get past the lock that you put down when you got home because of this bad mood. But that stubbornness was strong. It’s what you had found so appealing about him in the first place. That and the bad boy look, the way that his hair always hung in his eyes like he was Johnny Depp in Cry Baby. Billy Loomis managed to get the lock, push it off to the side and push your window up. First one jean clad leg and then the other, the rest of his body ducking low to avoid getting hit as he swung into your bedroom.

“What the fuck,” Billy said, as you didn’t turn around, your eyes perusing the page. You didn’t give him the satisfaction of looking at him. At taking in those dark eyes, the jacket that you knew that he was wearing despite the warmth outside. You knew that you’d fall again and your books here wouldn’t have a single chance of competition. Read, read, read. “Y/n. Look at me.”

You really tried. But he had taken the steps to be right behind you. To take your chin in his hand and force your head to look in his direction. Eye contact, you were a sucker for it, and you knew that you were done for. His own eyes were filled with flames. He was angry, and that was never a good thing for a Loomis. How many nights have you held him while he ranted about his father. While he let himself be vulnerable in front of you, something that he never did in front of anyone. Not even in front of his so called girlfriend. Sydney Prescott. She knew about the abuse, there was no hiding it, but he kept her still at arm’s length.

“It’s been a long day, Billy,” You sighed, your shoulders slumping. “I’ll listen to you if you need to talk but if you’re looking for something more from me tonight, I’m sorry. Not in the mood, and too tired.” And what was that something more that he might have been looking for? You. Your body, your lips, whatever he needed, you usually gave. Even with him having a girlfriend. And even with - well, Randy. You weren’t dating the film nerd but people always assumed that you were. You thought that even thought that there was something going on between you two when you just felt nothing. It was cruel to let him continue thinking that there was something there, that’s true, but you just couldn’t hurt him like that. You just prayed that another girl would come along and take his fancy, then you’d be off scott free.

“Oh, it’s been a long day for you?” Billy asked. “Oh, okay, I’m so sorry. It’s not like I’ve been looking around all over the fucking city for you when your mom told me you didn’t come home after school.”

Shit. Right. You had forgotten to tell her that you would be running late - of course she would be dramatic with Billy when he called. She had given you a hard time when you finally got back, and you tuned her out, learning how to do that when you were a kid. If she mentioned Billy calling at all, it was in one ear and out the other.

“I’m sorry,” You said, not being able to avert your eyes. “Harrison gave us a big project and I met up with my partner at the library to talk about it. Well, I talked about it mostly, he just sort of-”

“Who?” Billy asked, his eyes narrowing. “You said he.”

For someone with a girlfriend, he really could be a jealous asshole sometimes. That was part of his charm. Randy completely thought that Billy hated him because of the rumors that went around. Whenever you sat close to him to avoid feeling like a fifth wheel beside Tatum, Stu, Sydney and Billy, there were glares coming from his direction. It made you feel special, despite the fact that he didn’t have ground to stand on.

“Stu,” You said, slowly, trying to avert your eyes as his own started to flare up. His eyebrows shooting high.

“Like Stu?” He asked, as if he wasn’t quite sure that he heard you. “Our Stu. My Stu. Macher?”

“I don’t know of any others,” You said, but quickly put out your hand to touch his arm. “It’s okay though, right? Like you said, it’s Stu. Our Stu, your Stu, Macher,” You repeated his words. “It’s just a history report about some historical figure. We figured out that it was going to be Vlad Dracul - his idea because he loves those shitty Dracula movies, and that I’d do most of the work and let him sign off on it. Get him an easy grade. If I let him do anymore than his name, I know I’ll lower my grade to a D for sure. Can’t have that in Harrison’s class.”

You were talking too much, you knew that by the way that he wasn’t looking reassured at all. You had hoped that he would. It was Stu after all, his best friend. There should be nothing to be jealous about there, right? But apparently not.

“Right,” He said, nodding, letting go of your face and backed towards the window. He purposefully made himself farther away, it was clear to see. “So you didn’t tell me that you were going to be with Stu tonight. Or your mom. And he didn’t mention it either. How fucking convenient.”

“Really, Billy? Are you going to make accusations about Stu and I?” You scoffed. “You can be ridiculous sometimes but that’s a big fat no.”

“I just find it ... funny,” Billy said, though his face didn’t show any sort of amusement. “Right, well, I’ll leave you to your super important project that you’re doing with Stu,” He growled out the name of his best friend. “Since that’s clearly what matters most to you. Maybe I’ll go see what Sydney’s doing. Crawl up her window. At least she appreciates it when I do it.”

“Fine,” You said, crossing your arms, trying not to give in though he knew. He had to have known. That’s where your weak point was. Sydney. That every time he mentioned her name or their relationship, it was a stab in your heart. “You can even tell her that I say hello, if you want. Though I don’t think you will. You’re still keeping us a secret and all that,” You shot right back.

“That’s how it is?” He asked, sticking one leg out and straddled the windowsill. “Fuck, how many times do I have to tell you? She’s still upset over her mom, I can’t just be that asshole.”

“And I didn’t pick my partner for this assignment, and I’m not just going to let Stu down. I can’t be that asshole,” You said, turning his own words against him. He scoffed at you. He actually scoffed, and then let himself out through your window, climbing down the trellis. He even left it open which he knew annoyed the shit out of you. You had to get up, head over, and slam it down, turning the lock again, though clearly it did little good. You thought for a moment and then wedged a piece of wood over top of it so it couldn’t slide open more than a couple of inches, even if it was unlocked. That would have to do.

-

Your classmates filtered out of the room slowly, but you stayed behind with Stu for a moment. The guy had almost gotten himself suspended today because of that smartass mouth and that goofy smile. The class clown, that’s what he tended to be. “If you want a decent grade, Stu, you’ve got to at least act like you’re doing some of the work,” You sighed, getting up from your desk and picked up your books along with you. “Harrison will figure that you picked the topic but come on, that’ll only get you like ten marks. Don’t you want to graduate?”

Stu laughed in his usual way. He was a lot more of a casual guy than Billy was. He put his arm around your shoulders, his lanky frame being at least a head above you. He usually just put his elbow on top of your head and leaned on it so this was a rather nice difference. “Just don’t do my parts too well. Throw in some spelling mistakes. Maybe a dirty joke, that’ll make it seem like it’s really me. I’m fuckin’ counting on you. Do me proud!”

You both walked out of the classroom like that. Just chatting. Just laughing. He was giving you some jokes that you should put in about all of the impaling. And you knew that you would have to if you wanted it to be realistic. You were laughing at one particular one when a bad feeling came over you. The feeling of being watched. Everyone was on edge with the Ghostface killer being around but this felt different, familiar, more dangerous.

Billy. He was standing at the end of the hallway. His eyes were piercing into yours, staring at you. Staring at the way that Stu had his arm around you. You quickly brushed that arm off, which caught Stu’s attention. He looked at you, and then down the hall. “Shit,” He sighed.

“Wait, you know?” You asked, furrowing your brows.

“About you and Loomis? Course I know. He tells me everythinnngggg...” And then he looked you up and down with his creepy Stu Macher smile as if to emphasize his point. You groaned and pushed him away from you with all of your might, causing that thin form to go flying towards the lockers.

“You’re making it worse,” You hissed, and looked back down the hall to see if Billy was still there. He wasn’t. And that didn’t bring you any relief.

--

You walked down the stairs in the front of the school, reading over your notes again. You just had a big quiz in your final class and you were mentally checking off what you had put down. It was seeming like it went well. You might have gotten one or two things confused but - you’d still get a good grade. You’d been worried about Billy throughout most of the day. Wondering what he was going to pull because there was always going to be something. Maybe he would do that thing where he’d be super affectionate with Sydney in front of you, knowing how much that affected you.

But to your surprise, you heard a honk. Billy Loomis’s car was idling by the front steps. students walking past it to get to their bus stop or walk home. It wasn’t that out of the ordinary for him to call to you. You were all in the same friend group. But he was waving you over, impatience already showing on his features. “Come on, y/n,” He said, his window rolling down. He looked like the epitome of bad boy right there. The slight snarl. The hair in his face. Those cheekbones that you loved running your tongue along. When you didn’t move fast enough, when you stared at him curiously, he pressed down on the horn, letting out a loud, annoying blast.

“Okay, okay, I’m coming,” You said, scurrying forward, holding onto the strap of your bag. You curled in to get in the passenger seat, setting your bag down by your feet.

“Where are we going?” You asked as he started to drive. It wasn’t the direction of your house. It wasn’t the direction of his place either. He was taking you to the nicer side of town. “Billy?”

“Taking you to Stu’s,” He said, his voice steady, his eyes on the road. His jaw seemed clenched. “Taking you to work on that important project of yours. That’s what you would have been doing anyway, wasn’t it?”

“Well, not today, probably sometime on the weekend...” You said, looking out the window. “I don’t have the materials to work on Dracul today.”

“That’s not the project that I’m talking about,” Billy said.

“Then what is?” You questioned. He didn’t answer, just adding to your budding frustration. He turned the radio up. Some rock station. It must be broadcasting from another town with a really strong signal since every other station was talking about the murders. Scaring people into a frenzy. It was the last thing on your mind right then, since it was apparent that there were other dangers to face.

Stu’s house came upon you sooner than you hoped that it would. The tall boy was waiting by the door, wearing that ugly robe of his, a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. Billy got out of the car first, came around, opened your door, and all but tugged you out. “Billy-”

“Fuck’s going on, man?” Stu asked. Though he hardly seemed concerned. Was that even a word that he knew? He kept on having that stupid smile on his face. The one that never left. It was a bit eerie now that you thought about it. How could Tatum stand it for long periods of time?

“It’s time to work on your project,” Billy said, smiling in return. He kept one hand on your back, pushing you, making you roughly pass by Stu and into the house. “That’s what you both wanted. And I’m here to help.”

“That’s cool dude, yeah,” Stu said, being agreeable as always. If he sensed something off about Billy, he was seeming to embrace it rather than be scared of it. You were so hesitant, you tried not to move, tried to drag your feet, but Billy just would not let you. You were pushed on up the stairs. Stu even helped. He grabbed hold of your arms and hoisted you up over his shoulder. “I got some movies from the video store! Horror movie research!”

“That’s not what I was talking about,” Billy said, following Stu in. You were hitting the lanky man’s back but it was making no difference at all. You watched as Billy closed the door. Turned the lock. That made you gulp. Stu turned around so you were now facing the staircase rather than Billy. Once more, you felt more afraid of not seeing him than actually being able to watch what he was doing.

“Fuck man, I don’t wanna read the book,” Stu whined. “The movies are so much better.”

“Take her up to your room,” Billy said. Stu hesitated, just like you had, but he did eventually turn around and start the walk. You could feel the bounce of every step. And you could look into Billy’s dark eyes again. He looked calm, unsettlingly calm.

“Billy?” You asked again. It came out as more of a plea for answers than anything, but he just shook his head. The bad feeling was growing more and more in the pit of your stomach.

Stu opened a door and took you inside. You had been in this house for parties before but never in his bedroom. You didn’t have much of a chance to look around before you were dropped down on the bed with a bounce. You tried to get up but immediately, Billy was on top of you, his knee against your stomach, fighting against your hands. “Billy - stop - for fuck’s sake -”

Stu just laughed, seemingly finding your fighting to be funny. Billy didn’t though. Billy looked over his shoulder at him annoyed. “You’re the one that wanted this,” He said, turning back to glare at you. “So don’t act like you don’t.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” You insisted.

“Got those ropes still?” Billy asked Stu, who nodded. You weren’t going to be getting any help from your history partner, that was becoming really obvious. Stu actually moved forward to help. Billy held you down while Stu slipped them around your wrists, the other ends tied around the bed-frame. You didn’t even really have time to wonder how kinky Tatum was before you found yourself strapped up. Billy finally stepped off of you.

“Okay, okay, you got me,” You said with a nervous laugh. “You’re scaring me. That’s what you wanted right? I’m scared. I’ll never blow you off again. I’ll ask Harrison if I can switch partners. I’ll find a way to make it happen. Be with - a girl or something so you never have to get nervous. No, wait, I’ll do it myself. Just please, Billy, let me go.”

“Awww, you’re gonna leave me high and dry like that?” Stu asked, squatting down on the ground to be at eye level with you. He still had that obnoxious grin. “I’d never pass it on my own.”

“B-but,” You blubbered. Billy tightened up the wrist straps, then kicked over Stu who whined on the ground like a child. He took Stu’s place, looking into your eyes. There wasn’t even the slightest bit of affection in his.

“You’re going to be a good girl,” He said. “You’re going to go through with your project right here and right now, in front of me, instead of sneaking around behind my back. But after this, you’re going to remember that you’re mine. Or - I can let you go right now and you’ll never see my face again.”

That didn’t feel like a threat exactly. It felt like a break up. And even though you were scared, there was nothing more horrifying than the thought of him leaving you. Of going and actually being happy with Sidney. Going and living the white picket fence life with her when you would do ANYTHING for him, anything at all. You nodded. Against your better judgement. While restrained. With tears coming into your eyes.

The lights turned off. It made you yelp, surprising you. Then the flicker of a lighter and candles started to be lit. Stu was being a happy participant, even if he didn’t know what was really going on. The room was lit up by the light glow of the candles, creating a weird ambiance. This felt like something out of The Craft. If Billy practiced witchcraft, that was something new to you. But then again, this was Woodsboro. There was a murderer on the loose, anything could happen.

But you still had absolutely no idea what this had to do with Dracula.

“What do you want me to do?” You asked, trying to keep the sob out of your voice.

“You wanted to learn more about an impaler. That’s what you’re going to do,” Billy said, sounding as emotionally constipated as ever.

An Impaler. The impaler. You breathed in sharply through your nose and started to tug at your restraints a little more. Look for the stake. They were going to kill you, oh fuck, they were going to - Billy whispered something over to Stu, who looked at him with surprise, that grin slipping for a moment before it came back tenfold. He nodded, and - started to take off clothes. First came off that stupid robe and then his pants. His boxers slid down with them and he stepped in close to you. His cock was exactly like him. It bobbed in front of your face, causing you to draw back as much as your restraints would allow.

Impale.

He was going to get Stu to fuck you.

Oh shit. This was hardly how you expected things to go and yet - you were relieved. It wasn’t as bad aas you thought that it was going to be, even if it was a complete shock. You looked up at Stu who had that maniacal grin still on his face, then over to Billy who looked entirely serious. The contrast between them always stood out to you, but not as startlingly so until now. You slowly nodded. You didn’t want him to leave you. You loved him, even with his jealous ways. Even if some of your friends would call such a relationship toxic. Even with Sidney in the way.

That was all that the two boys needed.

Billy wrapped his hand around your throat, his thumb rubbing circles against your esophagus. It wasn’t the most pleasant feeling. He squeezed it, until you were struggling for air, all the while, Stu’s cock bounced up and down on top of your lips. It felt like he was teasing himself, or - being reluctant with Billy there. You started to see black spots appear around the corners of your vision, and finally attempted to turn your head out of Billy’s grip but with your arms and legs being restrained, it was impossible. He loosened a little, letting you breathe, and then tightened back up. It went on like this for another moment or so - tightening and then loosening, until you could feel your pulse inside of your own brain.

And then it was Stu’s turn. They were looking at each other with smirks as they took turns turning your lights off, so to speak. You were starting to wonder if they really were going to kill you. It was Billy’s hand again on you, while Stu started to pull your shirt up, exposing your stomach. His hands roamed over it. And then he departed for a second, only to come back with a pair of scissors. Your eyes went wide as he started to cut up your shirt. You wanted to protest but given the fact that you weren’t getting enough air to breathe, you didn’t have a choice but to accept it. A slap on your left breast, and then your right, as Stu was having fun with what he was seeing. “I can see why you’re always sneaking behind Sydney’s back,” He laughed, tweaking your nipple. “She’s got great tits.”

“Careful,” Billy warned, loosening his grip. “She’s still mine.”

It brought goosebumps on your exposed flesh to hear those words. And the way that he was talking. That they were both talking. Like you weren’t even there, or couldn’t listen. They weren’t talking to you, they were talking about you. Around you.

“I - I -” You tried to say, but then Stu interrupted whatever you were trying to attempt.

“Is your hand not big enough for her throat? I can still hear her man.”

“Shut her up with something else then,” Billy shrugged, letting go, making you cough as air tried to fill your lungs. You were blinking slowly, trying to get the dancing spots out of your vision. They were everywhere, like black dust. You didn’t have much time for relief though. Billy’s words had hardly gotten into your head, not with your brain feeling like it was thumping as a warning to get more oxygen. They turned you over, causing the restraints to twist and tighten, so painfully apparent. And then something long was shoved into your mouth, depriving you again.

You blinked, and felt some little hairs against your face. It was Stu then. Billy kept himself groomed. Your lips wrapped willingly around the shaft just to make it easier on yourself. The musty scent of a man filling your nostrils. The taste. The only man you had blown before was Billy and his taste was different. The whole thing was different. Stu was longer, reaching deeper into the back of your throat, fucking with your gag reflexes. You were choking on him. And it had an upward curve to it, like a banana. It made even coming close to swallowing it all down near impossible. Billy, on the other hand - well, you didn’t have a moment to think about Billy when Stu started to move his hips. A hand took hold of your hair, pulling it all behind you, keeping it out of your face while also gaining control of your motions. Pushing your head more and more until your nose was squished against a pelvis. “That’s it - give it to her,” Billy grunted. “Come on, take this shit.”

He let go of you and this time it was Stu’s hands that locked around your hair. For just a second, the dick fell out of your mouth, and for a reason that you could not explain to yourself, you hungrily went looking for it. “Christ,” Stu cursed, and put you back into his mouth. Your throat was making obscene noises as you took him down. Gagging. Air trying to come up. Saliva filling your mouth and coating him. “That’s good shit.”

“Yeah, man,” Billy said, sitting down at the end of the bed. “Fuck her throat. That’s what she’s been wanting after all.”

“You really think so?”

“Look how she’s gargling it down, I’d say so. Try to arch your back there, y/n, really make it sexy.”

You were laying on your stomach, barely able to raise your head. Stu was having to crouch low to fuck your throat in that position. But you tried. You tried to arch your back. Tried to make yourself pretty for Billy, even while you had his best friend’s cock halfway down to your stomach. “Push that ass up,” He commanded. So you tried. You dug your knees into the mattress to try to raise your ass, your waist just barely rising up from the sheets. You were rewarded for that with a couple of really hard smacks. Even with your pants and underwear still on, it stung. It was only going to get worse, you could feel that. So you tried to enjoy what you could. Enjoy the taste. Sucking dick was a turn on, weirdly enough. It was often your foreplay with Billy.

You gasped with every stinging slap. Sometimes the noise came out when Stu had pulled himself out, but sometimes it came out more as a strangled cry when he thrust back in. Then he took hold of your hair again. Pulling it. You thought it was going to come out, he had such a stronghold on it. Taking it since Stu kept neglecting it and then wrapped his hand around your throat again. He started to laugh. “Fuck man, I can feel your dick all the way down here.”

“Oh yeah? Let’s see if you can feel it in her stomach?” Stu laughed, sticking his tongue out and really pushed his pelvis forward.

“You think pretty highly of yourself,” Billy chuckled. You didn’t have a chance to get in on the joke. You could barely even hear them over you. Your ears were filled with blood as your throat was getting fucked over and over, thoroughly. This went on for another minute before Stu finally had enough of your mouth and pulled himself out. Your breath came out in a gasp, heavy and painful. Billy could be rough sometimes but it was nothing compared to what that was. Spit dribbled out of your mouth, down onto the bed, creating a large puddle. It was so thick, it didn’t sink in right away, just sat on the surface. And then you were turned around.

There was hardly a moment to feel relief at the restraints becoming untangled. Or even as Billy was undoing the ones on your ankles so you could move. You were still trying to get your breath back, get the tears out of your eyes. “You gonna be good?” Billy asked before he fully removed the restraint from your left ankle.

“Yes, sirs,” You nodded, finally being able to breathe through your nose, adjusting your jaw to try to get rid of the discomfort. Your pants were then cut off, the scissors gliding close to the seams up the sides, the metal against your skin. A fan was blowing around the room, and you just started feeling it now. Stu crawled over your body until he was between your legs and you saw how big he was, how crazy it was that that ... thing had fit down your throat as far as it did. Now it stood stark, reaching past his belly button, creating a shadow. He could be used as a sundial in a pinch.

“Go on,” Billy said, giving Stu further permission. “You were going to a report on impalement. So do a presentation.”

Your eyes shot wide open when that cock stabbed into you, filling you completely. No lubrication save for the leftover spit that had been dripping off of him. “Oh fuck, I think she liiiikkesss it,” Stu said, rotating his hips. Really playing with you. Your mouth gaped open once more, every thrust sending you reeling. And as much as you didn’t want to admit it, Stu was right - you were really enjoying it. You could feel him going in with less and less resistance from yourself. Your legs spread, he held your knees up with his palms, and kept on laughing and making crude comments until Billy finally had enough, reached over and slapped him upside of the head.

“Can’t say she’s not a team player. Play with your tits for us,” He commanded down at you. Your hands were freed, and you did what he asked you to do, pulling and grabbing at your nipples as your breasts swayed with each thrust. Any protests that you had came out as moans instead of groans. Especially when you settled into a nice groove between the thrusts, your own hips being pushed up and the sensitive feelings of your nipples being played with. He was really railing into you, but the thing about Stu is that he did a lot of teasing, not just with his mouth either. He pulled out and replaced himself with two fingers, pushing in and out quickly, a frantic pace but controlled. His thumb kept brushing against your clit, and then circling it until you felt that feeling start to overtake you.

“Oh shit dude, think she’s gonna?” Stu asked and Billy smirked, knowing your body well. Knowing your reactions. You were gaping like a fish out of water, the muscles in your thighs and inside of you contracting as that feeling, that pure white bliss, was coming in closer and closer. But then - a few seconds of emptiness. You whined as you felt it all come to an end. But then you were filled again. Stu sunk deeply into you and you moaned in relief.

What had started off as a confusing assault was turning into something so pleasurable. Your throat still hurt. Your fingers still played at your breasts, grabbing them, fingers sinking into flesh. You wanted their approval. You wanted Billy’s approval, no matter how cruel he could be.

Stu took hold of your hair, snatching it to pull your head up, bending you at the neck uncomfortably and plowing. “I’m - I’m -" You said, confirming what Stu was asking earlier. Your insides were clenching at him. Milking him. Trying to get ever last drop of pleasure out of the experience but Stu turned your head roughly and made you face Billy while he kept on thrusting.

“Don’t you dare,” Billy said, licking his lip. You groaned. “You’re such a slut, wanting to cum over Stu’s dick while I’m sitting right here. So fucking dirty.”

You really tried to keep it at bay, trying to listen to him. But it rushed over you anyway, that feeling that took your breath away. Stu kept hitting you juuuust right. His hand was back to circling your clit quickly, causing you to make quite a mess. Stu paused and then started to laugh. “She just fucking squirted man!”

“I see that,” Billy said, sneering at you. “Fucking knew she was just a whore.”

You never felt so dirty. So shamed. You wanted to hide, and wanted to cry and wanted to fight but you couldn’t. You were just a doll for them to maneuver, to use as they wished at this point. Stu pushed you off of him and then laid down on the bed, his legs in the mess that you had made. Billy was the one taking your hair this time, lifting you up and pushing you on top of his lanky friend. “Gonna make him do all the work? I didn’t know you were lazy too.”

You fell back on top of Stu, and though you felt defeated, though you felt disgraced, you moved so that you were straddling him and then lowered yourself down, putting him right back in. He had crazy stamina. You could have guessed by the way that he always had so much energy. You squatted right on top of that dick and lowered yourself down and then raised yourself up. He just felt so good. The way that his pelvis kept hitting right against your already battered and overly sensitive clit had you building up again. His hands went back around your throat, both of these men seemingly enjoying the feeling of it against their hands. You were bucking, your arms instinctively going behind your back, crossing there.

“Yeah, show him some respect. Good girl,” Billy said, sitting down right next to Stu’s body. Your eyes kept wandering over to him. To his handsome face, wondering how he was doing this, why he was doing this and even more - why you were seeming to enjoy it. You were bucking away, and Billy’s hand kept making contact with your ass, slapping it roughly. No doubt, you were going to have bruises when this was over with. But the sharp pains felt good in comparison to the pleasure that the second orgasm gave you, mixing together into a euphoric bliss that made you feel even dirtier than before. Stu wasn’t giving you a break. Nor, for that matter, was Billy, whose slaps became harder and harder, the sounds echoing through the room, mixing with your moans, mewls and whimpers. He took turns slapping both cheeks, and then squeezing, pinching. His own hand was rubbing down at his own cock, still hidden under the jeans that he was wearing.

Stu threw you off, surprising you. Your chest was heaving up and down as you looked at him, but even that moment of rest didn’t last long. He was all go-go-go. How could Tatum stand it - you were exhausted.

This time you were carried right off of the bed. Stu handled you like you were a ragdoll rather than a living being. No consideration as to what you might be feeling. While holding you, he raised his leg to kick some clothes off of a computer chair and got you situated on there. It was extremely uncomfortable but before you could complain, he was right back into you, pounding into you doggy style.  Your one leg fell onto the ground to support you but your other knee was being driven right into the uncomfortable leather of the seat. You grasped at the armrest, needing something to hold onto.

You could hardly see. Your eyes were watery. Your forehead was so sweaty. You still had globules of drool from when your mouth was wrapped around Stu’s cock. You must have been an absolute mess. But apparently, still decent enough for Billy to get hard. He stood on the other side of you, right in your face. So tall. His hands worked at his belt, unbuckling it slowly. And then the button of his jeans, the zipper, pulling them down to his ankles, tugging his briefs with them. The motion of the thrusts from behind had you moving forward, almost headbutting his waist, forcing your face directly against the hard dick that you had gotten to know over the last couple of months. “You hungry or what?” Billy asked. You nodded. You knew what was expected. And you had missed him. Being with Stu felt wrong without him being a part of it. Billy was the one that you loved and you were putting up with all of this to please him. To get called a good girl again. He pumped himself a couple of times with his hand as a tease, holding it just out of reach of your mouth. You tried to lunge forward to get it, to snatch it with your mouth but each and every time, he’d move it to the side. He laughed, like this was the most amusing game that he had ever played. “Look at her, look at her,” He said with a laugh.

“Come on man, you’re making her move away from me,” Stu whined.

“Shut the fuck up,” Billy shot back, reaching over your body and slapping him across the side of the head. “Just be lucky I’m letting her fuck you at all.”

“Yeah. You’re right. My bad,” Stu said, laughing like an idiot again. Did he ever stop smiling? You were watching all of this over your shoulder, neck bent at an uncomfortable angle. Billy took hold of your chin and moved your head right back to his pelvis.

“Go on,” He said, and so you did. You opened your mouth and welcomed him in. It was thicker, but all of the spit from earlier helped a lot. Your throat was already primed and lubricated for him. He groaned as he felt your cheeks hollow around him, as he pushed further to tease your gag reflex. “Deepthroat. Fucking work it. You wanted to get impaled. I’ll show you what it’s like to be impaled.”

“Fuckin’ spitroasted!” Stu said, giving Billy a high five over your back. You moaned, feeling so full on both ends. This was your first two on one experience. It was harder to concentrate on both than you thought it would be. To keep your tongue moving, to keep from gagging, all while being pushed back against Stu. You could swear he was reaching into your womb, he was going so hard, so deep.

“Why are you sucking like you think you have a fucking choice? Take it.” Billy scowled. You must have been lacking for a couple of seconds there so you tried to make up for it. Opened your mouth. Suppressed your gagging as much as you could. Felt his balls flinging against your chin.

“Ahh - yeah, yeah, almost there,” Stu said, his eyes rolling up into his head.

“Fuck, me too,” Billy admitted, though it had only been a couple of minutes for him. “She always forgets her birth control, don’t cum in her.”

“Shit, don’t be so fucking lazy,” Stu said, pulling out of you. Billy left your mouth and you fell onto the floor, your legs feeling like jelly. Your ass was so sore from all of the spanking, you flinched the moment that it touched the carpet on the ground. You leaned back against the seat of the chair, which wasn’t comfortable but at least it took a bit of the weight off.

Above you, both men stood. Both had their hands on their cocks. The first drops of warm liquid hit the left side of your face. “Open your fuckin mouth,” Billy said, jacking his cock in that direction. You did what you were told to do, sticking your tongue out, improvising what he might want. You had the right idea. Billy moaned at the sight and a glob of it fell right onto your tongue. “Yeah, keep it there. Taste it for me.”

Your eyes rolled over to Stu, just in time to get a load right below your eye. You managed to close it in time. You felt it dripping off of your cheek, down onto your shoulder. It was so damn warm. Or maybe your face was just burning up. After a couple more spurts over the bridge of your nose and then on your upper lip, it was finally over. Your humiliation. Your punishment. Your torment.

The boys were getting dressed again. Or rather, Stu was belting his robe up, not even bothering with pants or underwear. It was Billy that was getting dressed. They didn’t give you a towel or anything, just left you there on your knees, unable to see out of one eye. You wiped it with the back of your arm but that seemed to make it go everywhere. “Umm....” You stammered. “Is there anywhere I can clean myself up?”

“Bathroom down the hall,” Stu said, turning his computer chair around and sitting on it, doing a little spin. “Don’t get my mom’s towels dirty or she’ll have my fucking head.”

You nodded meekly. You tried not to drip, swallowing what was in your mouth and on your tongue, and cupping your hands under your chin to try to get the rest that would slide off. With unsteady legs, and without any help from either boy, you made your way to the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind you. The shame that you felt. The shame at the fact that you had enjoyed it. You didn’t even want to look at yourself in the mirror. You turned on the taps and used warm water to wash your face. There wasn’t any face wash in here so you used hand soap which dried out your skin but at least it made you feel clean.

You sat on the toilet for a couple of minutes. Tried to clean yourself up down there. Urinated to avoid a UTI. Flush, back to the sink, try to clean yourself with soap and water. You thought about taking a shower. But the idea of being so vulnerable in there and being naked for any moment longer was daunting. Besides, his parents might come home and you still had to make it back across the hall unclothed. When you did what you could, you took a breath and then dashed down the hallway, flinging open the door, and then closing it behind you. Stu snickered in your direction.

“Where are my clothes?” You asked, trying to sound more stable than you really were. It made the boys exchange looks at each other and laugh.

“Ripped up,” Billy said. “As part of your lesson. Did you learn it?”

“Well,” You said, covering your breasts with one arm and your other hand was between your legs, trying to hide that as well. “I know now to make sure that I’m never paired up with Randy for anything - ever.”

“Ew dude, can you imagine?” Stu said, followed by - guess what? - a laugh. “Gross.”

“That would have had a very different outcome,” Billy said, throwing his shirt at you, since your own had been completely ruined. It laid in tatters on the ground. Nothing more than rags. Stu had started rolling up a joint, licking the paper closed and then handed it to Billy who lit it and took a large mouthful of the stuff. He handled it well, keeping it in without choking, only to approach you and to blow it slowly in your face. “Don’t do anything that means you’ll be spending any time alone with another guy.”

“Because you’ll get jealous?” You asked, pulling the shirt on over your head. Billy wasn’t a large guy so it didn’t cover too much, but at least you did feel less exposed.

“Don’t even bring up that fucking word,” He shook his head. He handed the joint behind him back to Stu, not even offering you any. “Since you are here though, and I’m here to ... chaperone, you can work on your little project. As long as you behave.”

“Okay,” You said, fairly meekly after sensing the threat in there. When he sat back down upon the bed, he pulled you into his lap, the shirt drooping in front of you to protect whatever modesty you had left.

--

Needless to say, you didn’t get the best grade ever on that assignment. Actually, with the principal being killed and school letting out for a couple of days to recuperate, it didn’t even show up on your final report card. Still, though, Billy and Stu were very eager to celebrate the points that you did rack up, and you partook happily enough. Even if it meant that you couldn’t ever look Tatum or Sydney in the eye again.

[darthgloris]

If things had gone differently

Pairing: bi!Palermo x fem!bi!reader

A/N: this was quite a request, @tzkyo, thank you! This is a really interesting plot that is very likely to make me cry while writing it but I love it! You're very creative, hope you get more ideas like this for me to write ❤❤

Summary (@tzkyo 's courtesy, everyone 😉): Y/N (aka Recife) is completely and utterly in love with Palermo, even if all this time he loved Berlín. After his love interest died, he was torn apart from grief, while Y/N did her best to comfort him in hopes of one day winning his heart. During the heist, he breaks her heart in the most cruel and painful way possible, but regrets it when things start getting ugly.

Warnings: SPOILERS, violence, death, angsty af, heartbreak

€€€

I hated them.

I hated them both.

Actually, that's not true. I loved them both.

But I hated the way they looked at each other.

I hated the way they acted together.

I knew I shouldn't. I knew it was wrong to act like this, but I didn't care. I'd been going through this shit every single day for 10 years. Watching the love of my life Palermo being so kind, so sweet, so fun, being himself with Berlín, and then turning to me with a cold shoulder. Of course, he'd be sweet and kind to me as well, but when he was with the love of his life he was a whole different person. And it bothered me so much that that version of Palermo was the real him. Berlín brought out the best in him, certainly. He brought out the fun, sunny, Golden Retriever-like side of him. But he started neglecting me for it.

Damn him. Damn him and his perfect plans and his perfect brains and his perfect fucking smile. How could I be so in love with him? He was impossible, he was selfish, he had countless of flaws, but when you truly love someone, that doesn't matter. And his happiness mattered to me as well, so I let him be with Berlín and tried not to get in the middle.

And then, in the heist at the Royal Mint, he died. That was really impossible to see. The only difference between what hurt him before was that this time it impacted me as well. Berlín was the one who stole Palermo's heart, and he was quicker than me in doing so, but he was still a really good friend to me, almost a brother. He was used to giving me lots of attention, and that made Palermo's blood boil. That was probably why he was so cold to me.

A few months after Berlín passed, I was called by my ex-partner-in-crime Nairobi to join her and Helsinki in their life of partying and joy. I had missed her very, very much and couldn't wait to clear my mind from the hopeless, dead-end chase after Palermo in the lovely landscapes of Argentina.

A little less than a year later, love played its dirty game once again. Rio got captured and was taken to Algeria for interrogation and torture. That was what brought us all back together. But if there was something I wasn't ready for was meeting Palermo again.

Our reunion was certainly heartfelt and tearful. After all this time of grieving on his own, he felt incredibly alone and couldn't deny that he missed me, even if my advances sometimes bothered him.

...

During the heist

Palermo was acting weird. Very weird. He wasn't looking at me at all, he didn't even bother to look me in the eyes. To others, he talked normally, but to me, he just gave orders as if I meant to him as much as the next person. I've done everything for him: I spent my time helping him when he was blinded when I could have been doing much more useful stuff, I supported him when no one did, I covered him during battle. Hell, I've known him for years, why would he be acting like this?

And then it occurred to me. Why don't I ask him myself?

On the way to look for him, I bumped into Nairobi, who grabbed my arm gently and pulled me away to somewhere more private.

"Recife, where were you going?" She asked carefully.

"I'm just looking for Palermo, why?"

I sighed in exasperation. "Cariño, when are you going to realise you're too good for him? Have you seen how he treats you? You don't deserve that shit. You deserve someone who treats you like the wonderful person that you are. I know you love him, and I know you have for a very long time, but how did you endure all those years of watching him with Berlín and then having him push you away? He's not good enough for you. If he doesn't respond to your advances, it's not your problem, it's his, because he can't see the person in front of him for how she really is."

"Look, I know he can be a really shitty person, but he wasn’t always like this, okay? Before Berlín came around he was sweet, fun, caring. He used to show me so much affection, so much care, and when the guy showed up, he started following him like a puppy."

"He might have been like that before, Recife, but he's not anymore. People change, and sometimes for the worst. Even the inspector in charge now would be able to treat you better than this. And she's been torturing Rio for weeks."

"I'll never know what's going on with him if I don't ask him, will I?"

Nairobi sighed and placed a hand over her cheek, thinking. "You're so stubborn. Now go on, lover girl, before you miss your chance."

I gave her a strong hug and hurried off to find him. After a bit of wandering in the Bank of Spain, I found him in the library with a bunch of hostages and a couple of crew members. This was going to be difficult.

"Palermo!" I called him, and he stopped for a moment, but chose to ignore me and kept walking.

"Hey, Palermo." I grabbed his arm and forced him to look me in the eyes. "Um, could we talk? Alone, please?"

"No. Whatever you have to say, you can say here." He replied coldly, making my jaw clench.

"Fine." I rolled my eyes. "Could you please tell me why you've been treating me like trash since we got here? You're acting really weird, and you're not the Palermo I know, because that guy was loving, and cared about me, even if I was just a friend to him. But now... now you're just a jerk who thinks that he can push me around because I have feelings for him. I miss you, Palermo. The real you."

When I noticed how his fists were closed and his face was red, I got scared. Knowing him, he was going to lash out. "Don't give me that shit, Recife. Do you have any idea how much I suffered when Andrès died!? Does your teeny little brain even begin to comprehend what I went through when you left me alone to follow your little friends to Argentina!? You can't blame me, you can only blame yourself!"

In the middle of all that yelling, Nairobi came in I she almost heard her heart cracking at the scene. I teared up at the harsh words he was throwing at me without any regret, and my friend tried to walk up to me.

"Palermo, shut up! Can't you see she's crying?! Leave her alone!" She defended me.

"Why should I care if she's crying?!" He turned his attention back to me. "Are you still here, Recife? Go on, get out! Leave! Stay the hell away from me!"

I tried not to break down in front of everyone and ran out of the room. I could hear their voices arguing from inside.

"Why did you have to do that, you selfish piece of shit? All she has ever done is care for you and give you the love that not even Berlín gave you and you just break her like that?! Are you crazy?! Do you really think you're in the position to break someone's heart? You? I saw what she went through..."

I zoned the voices out and broke down on the floor, my cries echoing through the corridors. I couldn’t believe he did that to me. Maybe it was better like this. It may be better for both of us.

What he had said really hit a spot. Sometimes I regretted leaving him, but I thought it was for the best. The Palermo I remembered would have never rubbed that in my face. He wouldn't have said any of those things, he would've rejected me gently. And still treat me like a friend.

I leaned my head on the wall and hugged my knees to her chest, sobbing uncontrollably. I heard the door open and someone sat down next to me. Her hand started rubbing circles on my back.

"I gave him a piece of my mind. I couldn’t let him hurt you like this." She said and I leaned my head on her shoulder. "I'm so sorry, cariño. Really."

"You know what the worst part is? If he hadn't changed, if he hadn't started pushing me away for someone else, that version of him would have never done this. I loved Berlín, but he turned him into this... this person I've never seen before..."

Nairobi sighed and clutched me to her chest. "You don't deserve that. Now, why don't you spend the rest of the heist with me, hmm? Get away from all of this for a while. You'll stay at the furnace with me, Bogotá and Denver and we'll take care of you, okay? You know that those guys never fail to put a smile on our faces."

I chuckled. "Okay. Let's go."

...

When they got downstairs, Denver rushed over to me while Nairobi went to talk to the others. "Hey, Recife, what happened? Who did this to you? You give me a name and I'll rip their face off-"

"No, no, no, please don't rip any faces off! It was Palermo. He ripped my heart out, threw it on the ground and walked all over it."

"I have to go, someone is in the need of a beating." He said jokingly. "Hey, listen to me. He's not worth it. If he can't see what a wonderful human being he could have been with, he's not good enough. And it's not all bad. You did a really brave thing, telling him everything you felt to his face. That's a courage he lacks completely, because he doesn't have any balls or dignity. Would you have been with a guy that didn't have dignity or a functioning pair of testicles? Of course not!" I laughed and smiled at him. "There we go, that's much better!" Denver picked me up in his arms and swung me up and down. "Recife! Recife! Recife!" He chanted and I laughed, hugging him.

He put me down and Bogotá approached her. "He's right, kid. Don't let anyone walk all over you. You're too good for that." He pinched my cheek affectionately and I smiled, hugging him as well.

I was going to be better off like this after all.

...

Meanwhile, more days passed and seeing Palermo hurt a little bit every time, but being with people who really cared about me and loved me for who I am made me feel much, much better. I managed to get much closer with the boys, that being Matías, Bogotá and Denver. It was great, they were fun, they were interesting, and they were good people. And Nairobi encouraging me made me feel so happy inside, to finally have someone who truly cared for me.

But I was about to get the harshest reality check I could have ever gotten.

Alicia Sierra had managed to get in contact with Nairobi and manipulate her through her son. First she left her the boy's teddy bear, which contained a phone. I got worried when Nairobi accepted a call from the Inspectora. She started telling her that Axel was with her, and when Nairobi didn't believe her, she put him on the phone. Then she took him outside, encouraging her to look out the window. I felt something was off, until I realised what Sierra was doing.

"It's a trap! Nairobi, get away from there!" I yelled and without wasting a beat, I pushed her out of the way.

The sniper bullet cut through the air as if it was a hot knife cutting butter. Then I felt a pain in my chest and gasped in shock, but almost choked on the blood I was spitting. My hearing faded out and my eyesight blurred, but I could make out Nairobi's voice desperately calling my name and asking for help. I saw a few blurry figures, of which I only recognised Estocolmo and Nairobi, but I also tuned out a voice of which I couldn't forget the presence: Palermo. I could distinctly hear his anguished yells and cries as he tried to pick me up and bring me somewhere else. I wished I could hear what he was saying to me, but I lost consciousness shortly after.

...

*Palermo's POV*

She's shot.

She's shot. She's shot. She's shot.

I couldn’t calm my nerves as I paced back and forth, holding back my tears. Recife just got shot. I couldn’t believe what happened. Her life was on the line, likely because of me. I don't know why I broke her heart like that, I should have done anything else but that! And now she was lying on that cart, a step away from death.

"Somebody do something, carajo!" I cursed. "Anything you can! An anesthesia, a bandage, anything, just don't let her die!"

I heard Nairobi mutter something, but I didn’t have the energy to care. My best friend was dying, the very best friend that never stopped loving me even when I treated her like trash. She was brave and smart and intelligent and never failed to put a smile on my face. I wish things had gone differently, maybe if they had she wouldn’t be here like this.

"Okay, she's stable." Tokio said, making me breathe a sigh of relief. "She's in a coma and we don't know how long it will be until she wakes up, so she's going to need constant monitoring and observation, if we leave her alone like this and something happens, we're screwed."

"I'll stay with her," I volunteered immediately. "The rest of you go down to the furnace, we're almost there."

"Finally getting some common sense into that thick skull of yours, eh, Palermo?" Nairobi asked, her voice lacking humour completely.

"Why don't you mind your business, Nairobi? You still have a job to finish," I countered. I needed to be alone with Y/N now.

She just rolled her eyes. "Fine. Now come on, we need to move her somewhere safer."

...

We took her upstairs carefully and the others left to go back to their jobs. Finally, a moment alone with her. I sat down next to her and grabbed her hand gently, interlocking my fingers with hers.

"I don't know if you can hear me, corazón," I started. "But I need you to know how sorry I am for treating you like that. I didn’t mean to hurt you, I was really overrun by grief and you remind me so much of him... but I don't want to talk about him. I'm so sorry you're going through this... I should have protected you, goddamn it! You've always stuck with me, you've been so patient, so kind, so sweet, waiting for me to treat you the way I did before. And guess what? To get me to remember you, you had to get shot. God, I'm so stupid! You're right, I have changed, but you had to pay the consequences while it should have been me..." a few tears started rolling down my cheeks. "Please give me a chance to fix this once you get better. I couldn’t live with myself knowing I lost such an important person in my life."

I rested my forehead on my other hand and cried shamelessly. "My God, I don’t know what to do with myself if I lose you. I already lost someone important, I already lost someone I loved. Please don't be next. Hold on, honey. You hold on and when we get out here I'm going to buy us an island off of the coasts of Japan, your favorite place, and then I'm going to marry you. We'll live on the island all alone, just us, where nobody can bother us. We'll have sushi every weekend and mochi whenever you want, the ice cream ones, just like you like them. And after a few years, I'll fill that pretty stomach of yours with lovely children, and we'll live the best life we could ever get."

I did the best I could to paint her that picture, hoping she could hear me. I want to do all of these things and more. I want to kiss her forever, then go to Japan and marry her and live the rest of our lives together. I want to give her children, who'll hopefully get her personality and both our brains.

But what if she didn't make it?

I wanted all those things. I love her. I love her more than she thinks. She's going to make it. She has to. Otherwise, I might not be able to move on from her.

...

A few days passed and I spent every single day with her to apologise for everything I had done to her, to tell her about everything I loved about her and our future plans. I refused to leave her side, not while she was in this condition. My eyes hurt from crying and my back hurt from sitting in the chair; I hadn't eaten since she got shot, I only had water, and it wasn't my intention to leave anytime soon. Not even to eat. Not even to sleep.

...

I was sitting next to Y/N, my hand in hers, hoping for any sign of movement. Nothing. All of a sudden, her hand twitched and I almost jumped up from my seat. She was awake! She was here!

I couldn't hold back tears as she opened her eyes and shifted her head to the side to look at me. She eyed me up and down, her eyebrows furrowed. "You look terrible," she said honestly, making me laugh. Her life was on the line and she didn't even leave her sarcastic personality behind. God, this woman was amazing.

"I know," I laughed, stroking her face. "I've been sitting here for days hoping you'd wake up. Listen, I'm really sorry for treating you like that. And I don’t just mean last week. Everything I did to you. You were right, I've changed, and not entirely for the better. I pushed you away without being aware the value of your feelings for me, and when you got shot I finally realised what I should have a long time ago. What I'm trying to say is that I really love you. Please, please give me a chance to fix things. I owe it to you."

She smiled as she teared up as well, which made me hiccup in tears, only this time they were of joy.

"Yes. You can have one more chance." She said.

I gasped softly and tried not to shower her with physical affection as I knew she was hurt.

"What are you still waiting for, Martín? Kiss me, you fool," she joked.

"Are you sure? Because once I start, I might not be able to stop." I replied sincerely.

She gave a small nod and I leaned my face closer to hers. Then she moved her face upwards and met my lips in a soft kiss. I felt my stomach drop to my feet at the feeling of her soft lips on mine, her hand trying to run her fingers through my hair. I smiled in the kiss and felt more tears falling down my face, but I didn’t care. Finally, she was with me. And I wasn't willing to let her go.

...

I woke up to a lot of bustling in the room: the crew was running around and swarming over Recife's body, and their frantic muttering was mixed with the unstable beeping of her monitor.

Shit, the monitor!

"What's going on? Why isn't anyone doing anything?! She's dying, hurry!"

"Palermo, honey..." Nairobi started. "...we can't save her."

I noticed the tears pooling inside her eyes and I almost forgot how to breathe. She was serious.

"No! There has to be something we can do to help! Just anything- no, don't touch that!" I yelled at Denver who was about to detach her from the drugs. "Don't you dare give up! She'll live, I know she will. She's a survivor!"

"I know she is, Palermo, but we're just putting her through useless pain. She's gone, she was since the Inspectora refused to let in the surgical team. She's the only one with proper medical training, if anyone could have done anything, it would have been Recife herself."

"Screw it! Screw all of it! Come on, Nairobi, help me out, please! Please, Nairobi! I can't lose her!"

I saw the hurt and pity in her eyes as she opened her mouth to speak. "I'm sorry, but we-"

Our argument was cut off by the sound of the monitor flatlining.

"¡No! ¡Carajo!" I yelled and punched the wall in a futile attempt to let out my anger. "No! No! Don't leave, please! Please, Y/N!"

The others hugged each other in mourning, but I let nobody touch me. I was too late. She was dead. She was gone forever. No more wedding in Japan. No more sushi and mochi at the weekend. No more children.

I sobbed loudly and clutched her dead body to my chest. I still couldn't believe she was gone. I still couldn't believe that I let love slip through my fingers again.

...

Before her funeral, I stopped by to see her once more.

She was still there, her wound clean and her face relaxed. My heart swelled at the sight and my eyes filled with tears again. I sat down on the cart and pulled her to me, her upper body laying on my lap.

"I'm sorry for this, mi amor. I should have protected you. I love you so much, remember that."

My tears dropped on her face and it looked like she was crying as well, which made me cry harder. My body racked with sobs and I held her beautiful face in my hands as I started singing her favorite song.

"Con los pobres de la tierra

Quiero yo mi suerte hechar

Con los pobres de la tierra

Quiero yo mi suerte hechar

El arroyo de la sierra

Me complace más que el mar

El arroyo de la sierra

Me complace más que el mar

Guantanamera..."

My voice cracked and I couldn’t help but give a soft kiss on the lips.

"Goodbye, my beautiful."

[allycat75]

That ASP discussion, just like the site itself, was absolutely useless, Boston Dumb Fuck!

You know why? BECAUSE YOU ARE PART OF THE FUCKING PROBLEM!!!!

You just had to flash that awful piece of metal that binds you to the same evil that was being discussed. Know that all of the fears and violence that Secretary Cardona was expressing from Muslim and Jewish students around the country, it's on you, too. As he said, antisemtism is becoming normalized and your "marriage" is tacit approval of her beliefs and behavior. You have no right to sit and listen and look concerned when you know you have blood on your hands.

I happen to be one of those people who is afraid to show my faith, or mention I am Jewish. Just today, I drove past the location of a violent act that left a man dead, all because of his religion. I have seen too many Swastikas graffitied on walls near my market and coffee shop. This is my home town. My safe place, and I am not protected.

So live in that fairy tale world you have created for yourself- pick your apples, carve your damn pumpkins and crunch your fucking leaves, but don't forget to collect your partipation trophy for being a good rich white boy. While the rest of us shrink in our beds, afraid to roam the streets we call "home".

Have you no compassion to at least stay out of the discussion knowing what you have done? Was it necessary to pour salt and lemon juice over the multiple cuts you have given over the past year or so?

Everytime you shoved that hideous ring in the camera, you may as well have been saying, "You know who knows a lot about this subject? My little wifey. She sure hates the Jews, probably Muslims, too. She is an equal opportunity deplorable. Golly gee, such a peach!".

You looked like shit, by the way. Not sure if you wanted to look serious and concerned, or if that is just a sign your soul continues atrophy. Tell me, does it hurt as your soul is leaking away? Is it a sharp, stabbing pain? Or is it more of a dull ache? Or does it not hurt at all, more like a tickle? Oh well, no matter. After one or two more stunts like this and it will be gone and you won't feel anything at all.

We know there is something we are missing. We know you were forced to do this. We know you don't even like her. But I am beginning to not give a shit when you pull insensitive stunts like this. It makes me sad we will probably never know why you decided to self destruct this way. But what makes me the most sad, is that, one day, you will tell us everything, lay bare every gory detail, plead for forgiveness and for your soul to return, with heavy tears in your eyes, and I won't believe a word of it. You may be a bad liar, but you are a liar just the same.

Do you have the stamina to climb the cliffs of insanity it would take to earn that trust back? Not based on how you looked today, and not based on how much weed you seem to be smoking.

Please, for your sake and ours, stay away for awhile. If this is the "you" you have decided to be, no one wants to see or hear it. You are becoming as cruel, arrogant and lifeless as that little wifey so maybe you should just let the rest of that soul slip away and give in. I don't know who else would have you at this point. Like the Secretary said, you need to be unapologetically yourself. And right now you are an asshole!

When Miguel thanked you and your clout chasing partner at the end for all you are doing, did you feel a pang of guilt? I almost sensed you were about to cry because you know what a phony you are. I really hope you were because that means you are still with us. But it may have just been my misplaced wish you still cared for humanity.