#fuck how did you know that the thing I wanted most in the world was to watch John Gaius’s slow miserable tragic necromantic corruption arc

[wonhes]

WARNINGS: ….. angst 😺👍 + cursing

☁︎ — JUNE 24TH, 2024 10:58 PM

blinking to try and comprehend what they heard, they all blankly look at each other as anton’s words continue ringing in their heads. trying their best to put into words what they were all thinking, they continue staring at each other in complete disbelief. shotaro is the first to break the silence by loudly scoffing at his younger friend.

shaking his head at him, he takes a step forward towards anton. bringing the back of his hand up, he smacks anton’s chest causing anton to let out a small “ow.”

“and what the actual fuck posessed you to say that?” shotaro asks, disapproval written all over his tone.

“it was a joke!” anton quickly yells back as he rubs his chest.

“look around,” eunseok states as he moves to point at the rest of the boys. “is anybody laughing?”

“i panicked, i’m sorry!” anton sighs, bringing a hand up to nervously chew on one of his fingernails. “i was just trying to lighten the mood,” he mumbles to himself.

“you said sohee was going to get a restraining order against her!” wonbin quickly yells back. “in what world is that funny?”

“okay, i did not say it like that!” anton immediately argues back, shaking his head at wonbin’s words. he doesn’t understand why everyone is making such a big fuss. anton swears he has jokingly told sohee that before and it didn’t result in him crying. he genuinely does not understand why him making that joke towards you led to you crying and locking yourself up in your room.

“if anyone should get a restraining order is yn but on this guy over here,” eunseok sighs shaking his head as he uses his index finger to point towards seunghan’s direction.

rolling his eyes at eunseok’s comment, seunghan brings a hand up to flip eunseok off; this instantly causing eunseok to flip seunghan back with both of his hands.

“she literally texts him everyday! i was just trying to be funny,” anton continued on defending himself, ignoring the two boys bickering.

“god,” shotaro sighs once more. “anton, do you not know how to read a room?”

“your sister is in love with sohee,” shotaro states. with wide eyes, anton quickly looks at your friends for confirmation. when getting the confirmation he needed, he awkwardly shifts in his spot.

“she texts him every day probably hoping he’s going to magically unblock her one of these days– she wants to work things out with him but he refuses to hear her out,” shotaro sighs, shaking his head at sohee’s way of handling the situation. “you told her he was out of town so that most likely caused her to believe you’re still in contact with him–” shotaro continues explaining. “you made a tasteless joke about sohee getting a restraining order against her so she most definitely believes that came out of his mouth.” shotaro finally concludes.

“do you now understand why your sister is crying or do i have to dumb it down some more?” shotaro speaks up once more causing eunseok to let out a small snicker at his choice of words.

“wait—” eunseok’s eyes immediately go wide. “yn,” he says, turning to his friends as they all instantly gasp and make their way up the stairs to go to your room and comfort you.

from up the stairs, eunseok turns back for a brief second and points down at seunghan. “and don’t you dare step foot upstairs,” he states before turning back to continue walking up the stairs.

rolling his eyes at eunseok’s comment, seunghan lightly pats both shotaro and anton’s chest to signal them to follow the rest up the stairs.

JUNE 24TH, 2024 11:13 PM

“baby, open the door,” wonbin sighs as he continues to knock at your door. turning back to look at sungchan and eunseok, he shakes his head at them.

“pretty girl?” sungchan tries now, jiggling your doorknob.

“sugar plum, please!” eunseok desperately yells out, wanting nothing more than to be there for you.

“baby? sugar plum? pretty girl? what the fuck?” seunghan mumbles to himself, confused on the sudden pet names you were receiving.

shaking his head at seunghan, wonbin couldn’t help but roll his eyes at him. “platonically, asshole.”

“you’re just mad yn didn’t like it when you called her pretty girl,” eunseok quickly shot back, turning to smirk at the shorter boy.

gasping at his words, shotaro and anton bring a hand up to smack their friend. “you called her ‘pretty girl’?” shotaro asks in full on disbelief.

“you fucking called my sister ‘pretty girl’?” anton angrily asks.

“ow–” seunghan states as he begins rubbing his head and arm. “sungchan just called her that and nobody fucking cared!”

“she’s my best friend!” sungchan quickly reasons back. “besides, it’s platonically. yours on the other hand was not.”

“eunseok, what else has he done.” anton asks as he continues to angrily eye his friend.

“oh, i’ll gladly tell you–” eunseok begins as he turns to look at seunghan’s panic figure shaking his head at him, pleading him to stop.

“yn,” shotaro randomly speaks up. at the sound of his voice, everyone shifts their attention towards him and watch as he brings a hand up to knock at your door.

“what the fuck are you doing?” anton whispers out towards his older friend.

“trust me,” shotaro quickly answers back before softly knocking once more. “i know you don’t know me like that but it’s shotaro,” shotaro quietly says.

“i’m really close to sohee,” he adds as he continues speaking to you against your door. “you-” at the sound of the door unlocking and swinging open he closes his mouth.

“i didn’t kiss seunghan,” you quickly state, looking up at shotaro with tears spilling from your eyes.

softly smiling down at you, he nods his head at your words. “i know,” he reassures you.

“please tell him that,” you desperately plea with him.

as you watch him shake his head at you, you feel your bottom lip start to quiver. looking up at him once more you try to plea once again.

“i’m not going to tell him because you are,” shotaro says, sending you a warm smile as he takes out his phone to text sohee.

“i’m going to text sohee and tell him i’m coming over so he’ll know to expect someone over,” shotaro tells you as he finishes typing on his phone. “but instead of it being me, it’ll be you.”

shaking your head at his words, you couldn’t help but let tears spill. desperately running to whichever one of your friends was closest to you for emotional support.

“oof,” wonbin softly says, taken back at the sudden contact. quickly snapping out of it, he brings his hands to your frame to hug you back.

“he’s going to get a restraining order,” you sob, hiding your head on his chest.

hearing your words, eunseok annoyingly turns to anton as he brings a hand to slap the back of his head. “you fucking see what you did?”

“baby, he’s not going to get a restraining order,” wonbin lightly laughs to try and reassure you. “do you know how silly that sounds?”

“sohee told anton,” you mumble, hugging wonbin tighter to try and calm yourself down.

angrily turning to look at your younger brother, it’s sungchan’s turn to slap the back of anton’s head. “you fucking see?”

“ow— it was a fucking joke!” anton whispers back.

“he’s not going to get a restraining order, i promise,” shotaro states, side eyeing anton in complete annoyance. “sohee never said that, i swear.”

“i can even show you our texts–” shotaro continues trying as he takes his phone out of his pocket. “he wouldn’t do that.”

“he wants to talk things out, trust me. he’s just hard headed.” the older boy tells you.

“very hard headed,” seunghan mumbles to himself, agreeing with shotaro.

discreetly nodding his head at their words, eunseok slowly makes his way to where you and wonbin were standing.

“move. my turn!” eunseok pushes wonbin off of you and quickly takes over, hugging you gently as he places a quick kiss on the top of your head.

“what the actual fuck is your problem, eunseok!?” wonbin groans, shaking his head at his friend as he dusts himself off.

“what? i’m just trying to be here for my best friend,” eunseok reasons, causing you to let out a small chuckle at their banter.

“okay! now, it’s my turn,” sungchan says, making his way towards you.

smiling at the sight of you no longer crying, anton begins walking towards you as well. “i’m sorry you have a stupid little brother,” he sighs as he sends you a sad smile.

“i got nervous and made a dumb joke,” anton admits to you as he nervously scratches the back of his neck. “i’m also so fucking sorry for the way i spoke to you the other day, you didn’t deserve that all.”

“i don’t know what i was thinking. i was just so angry and instead of taking it out on seunghan– like i should’ve– i took it out on you,” anton sadly states, completely ignoring seunghan reaction at his sudden words. “i-” anton continues once more but stops at the feeling of your arms wrapped around his torso.

“it’s okay toni,” you softly smile up at him.

“not trying to interrupt anything,” shotaro speaks up, taking a step forward as he looks down at his phone “sohee texted back.”

at the sound of sohee’s name, you instantly turn to look back at shotaro. sending you a small smile your way, he nods at you. “go.”

“go get your sohee.”

☁︎ — JUNE 25TH, 2024 12:26 AM

with a shaky breath, you close your eyes to try and calm yourself down before bringing a hand up to ring his doorbell. at the sound of his doorbell ringing you feel your heart hammer against your chest even faster— if that was even possible. now or never, you keep quietly mumbling to yourself as an attempt to calm down.

“taro-” sohee tiredly says as he opens his door. at the sight of you in front of him, sohee does a complete double take and stares at you with wide eyes.

“h-hi,’ you quietly mumble, nervously playing with your hands.

staring back at you, sohee couldn’t help but take notice on how red your eyes were. have you been crying? sohee sadly asks himself. he feels himself wanting to reach out for you to reassure you everything was okay. but instead, he quickly shakes his head at his thoughts, forcing yourself to snap out of it. you’re with seunghan, he reminds himself.

“go home yn,” sohee sighs as he tightly grips on the door handle.

“baby, can we please talk?” you desperately ask, taking a step closer to him.

“don’t-” he closes his eyes to try and calm himself down. “don’t call me that.”

“pretty boy-”

“is this funny to you?” sohee groans out as he steps outside while looking at you with tears in his eyes. “stop teasing me and go home.”

“i’m not-” you try but get interrupted by sohee’s scoff. “sohee, please.”

“yn, what do you want to talk about?” sohee asks, shaking his head at you. “if you wanted seunghan, you could’ve told me, you know?” he sadly states. “i would’ve backed off.”

“i don’t-”

“i heard you and anton talking that day,’ sohee cuts you off, not wanting to hear any of your lies. “god, i’m so fucking stupid.”

“baby, you’re not,” you quickly move towards him to comfort him causing him to take a step back, away from you. sadly looking down at the space between y’all, you try and swallow your tears despite your heart breaking by the second.

“please, go home.” sohee tries again, gesturing you to walk away

“i’m not going anywhere until you listen to me,” you firmly state, shaking your head at him. “bab-”

“don’t call me that!” sohee brokenly stops you. “you lost the privilege to call me that the second you decided you wanted my best friend,” he angrily brings a hand to wipe away his tears.

“i don’t-” you try talking once again but are once again stopped by sohee talking over you.

“i’ve been so fucking in love with and i thought-” sohee gulps. “i thought you were starting to feel the same way too. i thought it was finally mutual.”

“sohee,” you sadly say as you take a step forward to grab his hand. not having it in him to move once again, sohee lets you grab him. letting out a small sniffle, he brings his attention back towards you. at the sight of his tear stained cheeks you feel your heart break all over again.

“d-do you like seunghan?” sohee hesitantly asks as more tears begin to cloud his vision.

“baby, no,” you gently say, as you bring a hand to cup his cheek and wipe away his tears. “i like you.”

“then why did you kiss him?” he sniffles.

“i didn’t kiss him,” you begin, causing sohee to shake his head at your words and take a step back away from your touch.

“baby,” you desperately try to reach out for him. placing both of your hands on his cheeks, you try and get him to look at you. “look at me, please.”

listening to you, sohee hesitantly removes his focus from the ground and makes eye contact with you.

“the thought of you and seunghan together hurts me so fucking much,” sohee admittedly whispers out. shaking your head at his words, you bring a hand down and place it against his, intertwining his fingers with yours. “it hurts— it hurts so much,” he repeatedly mumbles.

“i didn’t kiss seunghan.” you reassure him.

“but, anton said-”

“i didn’t kiss seunghan but anton did walk in on seunghan trying to kiss me,” you hesitantly told him. processing your words, sohee finds himself letting go of your hand and creating distance between you two.

“baby, wait. please listen to me,” you say, catching his hand before it fully slipped away.

“were you gonna kiss him back?” sohee asks, looking down at you with watery eyes.

“no.” you immediately reassure him. “i only ever want to kiss you.”

“have you ever had feelings for seunghan?” sohee sadly asks, still trying to piece together the whole situation. “please don’t lie to me.”

☁︎ — JUNE 25TH, 2024 1:48 AM

sitting down on his bed, you nervously chew on your bottom lip as you wait for sohee to speak up. you were finally able to explain everything and he’s been quietly processing the situation ever since.

“why didn’t you tell me he was pursuing you?” sohee breaks the silence, looking at you with hurt written all over his eyes.

“i didn’t want to hurt you,” you try reasoning with him. “i thought i was protecting you—”

“bab- yn” sohee sighs. “that’s not protecting me, that’s leaving me in the dark.”

“my best friend was going after my girlfriend, don’t you think i would want to know that?” sohee bitterly laughs. “i would’ve loved to know that my girlfriend once had feelings for him too.”

“baby, it was just a tiny crush.” you quickly jump to your defense. “i was in denial—”

“you still should’ve told me,” sohee lets out one last sigh as he brings his hands up to rub his eyes.

“i should’ve,” you nod your head at him and shift your focus down to your hands.

“it’s getting late you should go-”

“that’s it?” you sadly ask, looking at him with wide eyes.

“are we still-”

“we can be friends,” sohee cuts you off, offering you a small smile. “i don’t think we should date.”

“ever?” you quietly ask. “never again?”

“c-can i fix this?” you hesitantly ask. scooting closer to him, you take his hand in yours. “i can fix this, i promise.”

“yn,” sohee mumbles, wiping away your tears with his thumb.

“this was all just a big misunderstanding,” you desperately plea with him.

“pretty girl, you still kept secrets from me,” sohee softly states. “i’m not mad at you,” he reassures you. “we can still talk but as friends— at least just for now.”

“friends,” you defeatedly state, scared that if you continue pushing he might completely pull away from you again.

not being able to help himself, sohee leans forward and places a gentle kiss on your forehead. there’s no denying that he still holds— and will always hold— strong feelings for you but truth be told, he’s terrified to try again. so, he’ll settle for a friendship instead, at least just for now. “friends.”

☁︎ — CLOUD 9

CHAPTER 44 — friends

summary !! after years of constant pining after his best friend’s sister, yn finally takes notice of sohee and sohee swears he’s on cloud 9. or in other words, loser sohee finally gets the girl.

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CLOUD 9 MASTERLIST

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[hoshifighting]

Hey pookie so I just wanted to ask seeing that you didn't see any of my asks in your inbox could you write me a ff where you're in seventeen and you used to have a friends with benefits situation with wonwoo but now that's over and you're with josh but he knows that so now he wants to have a threesome with you and won I you are comfortable and have the time😊💗

threesome with; actual situationship!joshua & past situationship!wonwoo WC: 3.3k WARNINGS: smut, threesome, reader misses wonwoo, mentions of ovulation/sensitiveness, fingering, oral (m and f receiving), body fluids (cum) penetrative sex, a teeth scratch during blowjob—no pain, joshua and wonwoo making eye contact as they fuck you—idk, but felt like a warning.

you’re not entirely sure how it started. maybe it’s the way joshua’s always had this easy charm, like he knows exactly how to say shit that gets under your skin. but it’s not the kind of annoyance that makes you want to push him away, it’s the kind that makes you want to shut him up by doing things that leave the both of you breathless.

and wonwoo… well, wonwoo’s always been a different story. it’s not like he’s cold, exactly. just detached, distant. except when he’s not. except when his hands were on your hips, and his mouth was on your neck, and when he pulled you so close that it’s like he wanted to remind you how much he can feel.

it wasn’t supposed to last as long as it did, but it did. until it didn’t.

now, though? now you’ve got joshua, and that’s its own thing. he’s smoother than wonwoo ever was, always knows how to keep things light and playful even when his touch is hot and heavy. you’re not sure what to call what you have with him—it’s not exactly a relationship, but it’s not casual either. and he knows about wonwoo. of course he does. you never accomplished about lying to joshus, he knows everything about you, and you simply cant lie looking inside his eyes.

“so,” joshua says, leaning back against the couch, his eyes fixed on you with that lazy smirk you’ve come to expect. “what if we changed things up?”

you raise a brow, not quite following. “changed things up how?”

his gaze flicks over you, dark in his eyes now, something you’ve only seen in flashes before, right when he’s about to get serious. “i know about you and wonwoo. i know it’s over, but…” he lets the words hang there, knowing exactly how to build suspense. “what if it didn’t have to be over?”

you feel your stomach flip, your mind racing to catch up with the suggestion that’s hanging in the air like a loaded gun. “what the fuck are you talking about?”

he doesn’t flinch, doesn’t even look like he’s joking. “i’m talking about the three of us.”

you let out a laugh, more out of shock than anything. “a fucking threesome? with wonwoo?” it’s so ridiculous, but there’s something twisted in your chest that says it’s not entirely a bad idea.

joshua just shrugs like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “you said he was good, right? no reason to keep that all to yourself. besides… i’m curious.”

“curious?” you echo, still not believing what you’re hearing. “about what exactly?”

his smile turns wicked, and he leans forward, his lips brushing your ear. “about what it’d be like to see you with him. to see how you’d react if it was both of us. together.”

the idea rolls through your mind like wildfire, igniting thoughts you didn’t even know were buried there. you picture it—wonwoo’s quiet dom that you remembered, joshua’s charming and sensual—and suddenly, the room feels too hot, your heart beating too fast.

you lean back, eyes narrowed. “and what makes you think wonwoo’s even into that?”

joshua grins, knowing exactly what he’s doing. “oh, he’s into it. trust me.”

you don’t need to ask how he knows, and that’s what gets to you. this whole situation, as absurd as it sounds, feels almost inevitable. the tension between you and joshua’s always been good enough, but throw wonwoo into the mix, and it’s like adding gasoline to a slow-burning fire.

“you really think this is a good idea?” you ask, not sure if you’re talking to joshua or yourself at this point.

“i think it’s an idea,” he says, shrugging again, that confidence never leaving his face. “whether or not it’s a good one is up to you.”

you bite your lip, torn between the pull of curiosity and the weight of everything that’s gone down with wonwoo. it wasn’t messy when it ended, but it wasn’t exactly clean either. things like that don’t just disappear. they linger.

“fuck, you’re serious about this.” it’s not a question, more like a realization. joshua’s leaning in, his hands tracing light patterns over your skin, and you feel yourself giving in to the inevitable, even though part of you is still screaming that this is insane.

“completely,” he says, his lips grazing your jaw. “so, what do you say? wanna see how far we can push this?”

there’s a moment, where you think about what this could mean. it’s not just about sex, not with joshua and wonwoo involved. the way joshua’s eyes burn into yours as if he’s daring you to cross a line you can never uncross.

but then, you think about the way wonwoo used to look at you, that hunger in his sharp eyes, and the way joshua’s always been able to coax you into doing things you never thought you’d be into. and, well… maybe crossing that line isn’t the worst idea after all.

“alright,” the weight behind it feels like a door being kicked wide open. “let’s do it.”

joshua’s grin stretches wider, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “that’s what i thought you’d say.”

you can feel wonwoo's presence, even though wonwoo’s not here yet. but you know—you know—that when he is, things are going to change in a way none of you can ever take back.

and the fucked up part is? you’re not sure you’d want to.

[...]

“a threesome?!”

wonwoo’s voice cuts through the room. he’s standing at the foot of joshua’s bed, his eyes wide in disbelief—those same eyes that are always narrow, focused, but right now they’re blown open like he just heard the most ridiculous thing in his life.

honestly, you can’t blame him.

you sit there, smaller than you’ve ever felt, wrapped in the sheets like they might shield you from the exhasperation of his reaction. you’d expected some kind of pushback from wonwoo—he’s not exactly the most spontaneous guy—but the shock in his voice still stings more than you’d thought it would. joshua’s quiet beside you, arms folded across his chest, watching wonwoo with this unreadable look, lips pressed into a thin line. like he’s assessing the situation. like he’s waiting to see how this plays out.

“i—” you start, but your throat feels dry, your words dying before they’ve even formed. you shift, uncomfortable, but it’s not just the awkwardness of the moment. there’s something more, something deeper that’s making your skin feel hot, your body overly sensitive to every movement. you know what it is. you can feel it. your body’s buzzing, the ache between your thighs making itself known with every subtle shift of the sheets. you’re ovulating, and it’s making this whole thing worse, making your body respond in ways that are frustratingly out of your control.

wonwoo’s still staring, he looks at you, then at joshua, then back at you again. you don’t meet his eyes, can’t bring yourself to.

“are you serious?” his voice is lower now, more measured, but there’s still a note of incredulity in it.

you swallow hard, forcing yourself to look up at him. “yeah,” you say, voice quiet, but it’s the truth. “we’re serious.”

wonwoo looks like he’s processing it, his mind running a mile a minute, but there’s a flicker of something in his expression that tells you he’s considering it. and that’s enough for joshua, who leans forward slightly, his voice smooth, persuasive.

“it’s not as weird as it sounds,” joshua says, his tone light, like he’s just suggesting something casual, like going out for drinks. “you’re both already close. you trust each other, I know you for years. we’ve all got chemistry, right?”

wonwoo’s eyes narrow slightly at joshua, but the tension between them isn’t exactly hostile. it’s more like a challenge, like he’s weighing the pros and cons, trying to figure out if this is something he can actually wrap his head around.

finally, wonwoo sighs, rubbing a hand over his face, and when he speaks again, there’s a resigned sort of acceptance in his voice. “fuck it. okay.”

your heart jumps at the words. wonwoo’s gaze locks on yours, and for the first time in what feels like forever, there’s no distance between you. no walls.

joshua doesn’t say anything, but you feel his presence, the way his eyes are on you, observing every little reaction. there’s something almost possessive in the way he watches, like he’s waiting for you to make the first move.

you don’t wait long.

before you even realize what you’re doing, you’re reaching for wonwoo, pulling him down by the front of his shirt until his lips crash into yours. it’s messy, a little frantic, and you missed him. so, so much. like you missed him more than you were willing to admit. you can’t help the small sound that escapes your throat, the way your body responds immediately, almost embarrassingly fast.

wonwoo’s hands grip your waist, pulling you closer, torching the fire that’s already been burning low in your belly.

joshua’s still silent beside you, but you feel his eyes on you, feel the way his presence lingers, close but not touching. when you finally pull away from wonwoo, breathless and dazed, you glance at joshua. his lips are pressed together in a tight line, his expression carefully neutral, but there’s a tension in his jaw that tells you he’s not unaffected by what he just saw.

“fuck,” wonwoo mutters, his forehead resting against yours, his breath hot against your lips. “you’re… fuck, you’re wet already.”

you let out a shaky breath, your body pulsing with a need that’s only getting worse. “yeah,” you admit, not even embarrassed by it. “it’s… it’s the timing.”

wonwoo raises a brow, confused for a second, before realization dawns on his face. “oh.”

wonwoo knew about “the timing” he used to be your relief for it, and he remembered how sensitive you were.

joshua finally speaks up “she’s sensitive right now. been like this all day.”

you want it. you need it.

wonwoo’s eyes darken, his fingers tightening on your waist. “is that right?”

joshua’s watching closely, his hand brushing over your thigh, and the contact is enough to make your breath hitch, your body already responding before you can even think about it. “she’s all yours for now,” joshua murmurs. “but don’t get too comfortable.”

wonwoo’s lips are on yours again, his hands exploring your body with a familiarity that makes the nostalgia wash over you like grandma's food, and you can’t help but respond, your body arching into him.

every touch, every kiss feels magnified, like your senses are on overdrive, and it’s all you can do to keep yourself from losing control entirely. you’re wet, so wet it’s embarrassing, and you know they can both feel it, know exactly how badly you want this, how badly you need it.

“fuck, you’re so sensitive,” wonwoo breathes against your skin, his fingers teasing along the waistband of your underwear, and you whimper at the contact, your hips bucking involuntarily. “can’t believe how wet you are.”

joshua leans in, his lips brushing wonwoo's ear as he whispers, “told you she’s been like this all day. it’s driving her crazy.”

you let out a shaky breath, wonwoo’s fingers dip lower, brushing against your soaked core, and you moan, your head falling back against joshua’s shoulder. it’s too much, but at the same time, it’s exactly what you’ve been craving, what your body’s been screaming for all day.

joshua’s hand slips under your shirt, his fingers brushing over your tits, twisting the hardened nipples, he’s letting wonwoo have you, letting you drown in it, knowing that it’s only a matter of time before he takes over.

wonwoo’s fingers slide inside you, slow at first, and the instant he curls them, you feel your body react, hips stuttering forward like you’re trying to chase the sensation, but can’t quite control it. it’s like your entire body remembers him, remembers the way he used to touch you, how he knows exactly what makes you fall apart.

you gasp, your forehead pressing against his chest, his free hand coming up to hold the back of your neck, keeping you close. “fuck,” you whisper, your breath ragged, your skin burning, fever. “wonwoo…”

he doesn’t respond with words, just lets out a low hum, his fingers working inside you with an infuriating pace, slow but so damn effective. you clench around him, feeling the wetness start to drip onto the sheets beneath you, and your mind’s a blur.

then, they share a look—wonwoo and joshua, their eyes meeting over your trembling form like they’re communicating something quietly between them. it makes your stomach tighten. wonwoo’s chest rumbles with a deep chuckle as you crumble against him, barely able to hold yourself up.

“fuck, you’re squeezing me so tight,” wonwoo mutters, his fingers start moving faster, curling with every thrust, hitting that sweet spot inside you that makes your knees buckle. “didn’t think you’d be this sensitive.”

“wonwoo—” you choke out, your head falling back, and your hand reaches out blindly for joshua. he’s pulling away, but you need him, need both of them. “joshua—”

you hear him groan softly, and when you turn your head, you see him standing there, his hand wrapped around his cock, pumping it slowly, watching you like he’s savoring the sight of you falling apart on wonwoo’s fingers. “fuck, you look so good like that,” he says, his voice thick with lust. “so fucking needy.”

you bite your lip, moaning as wonwoo’s fingers slide deeper, the wet, obscene sounds filling the room as your body betrays you. your thighs tremble, your hands clawing at the sheets, the sensation of being split between them making your head spin. “joshua,” you moan again, voice breaking. “please… come back.”

he doesn’t need much more convincing. you watch as he steps forward, his cock hard and slick in his fist. “you want me that bad, huh?” he murmurs, the teasing lilt in his voice cutting through the haze clouding your mind. “can’t handle just wonwoo?”

wonwoo chuckles softly, his fingers still working inside you. “she’s falling apart already,” he mutters, his breath hot against your neck. “not sure she can handle both of us.”

“she can,” joshua says confidently, his thumb swiping over the tip of his cock as he steps closer, looming over you. “she just needs a little encouragement.”

you’re already panting, your body on edge, teetering dangerously close to losing control completely. you can feel the wetness coating his hand now, dripping onto the sheets, and it only makes the whole thing worse. every little movement makes you more sensitive, your body almost too responsive, and the frustration builds in your chest.

joshua kneels down on the bed, his cock brushing your lips, and you open your mouth automatically, desperate to have him inside you. but the second you try to take him in, wonwoo’s fingers curl again, and you gasp, your body jerking uncontrollably.

“shit—” you whimper, struggling to breathe, “i can’t—”

joshua presses the tip of his cock against your lips, his eyes burning into yours. “oh, you’re just gonna have to try a little harder, baby.”

you moan against him, your hips rolling instinctively into wonwoo’s hand, your body caught in this maddening push and pull between the two of them. joshua slides his cock past your lips, and the feeling of him, heavy and warm on your tongue, only intensifies the sensation of wonwoo’s fingers inside you. you choke a little, struggling to focus on either one of them, but it’s impossible.

wonwoo’s pace picks up, his fingers thrusting deeper, and just when you think you can’t take it anymore, he pulls them out, leaving you empty and clenching around nothing. you whine at the loss, your head spinning, but before you can even process it, he’s shifting lower, pressing your thighs apart with a firm grip.

“wonwoo—” you gasp, your words muffled around joshua’s cock.

“shh,” wonwoo murmurs, his breath hot against your inner thigh. “just relax.”

and then his mouth is on you, his tongue licking a broad, slow stripe up your center, and your entire body seizes up, a broken moan ripping from your throat. your hips buck against his mouth, but he holds you down, his grip tight on your thighs as he starts devouring you like he’s been waiting for this moment forever.

“fuck,” joshua mutters, his hand tightening in your hair as you struggle to take him, the combination of wonwoo’s tongue on your clit and joshua in your mouth pushing you past the point of reason. “you’re so fucking wet. wonwoo’s making a mess out of you.”

you can’t respond, can barely even think, your mind a swirling mess. wonwoo’s tongue is relentless, teasing and sucking at your clit, his fingers slipping back inside you as he eats you out like it’s his only mission in life. you can feel your legs shaking, your entire body trembling as you try to keep up, but it’s impossible. every touch, every thrust of his fingers makes you more sensitive, makes it harder to breathe.

“fuck, i can’t—” you gasp, pulling off joshua’s cock for a second, your voice a desperate, breathless whine.

joshua just chuckles darkly, stroking your cheek with the back of his hand. “you’re doing so good, baby. just a little more.”

wonwoo hums in agreement, the vibration against your clit making your entire body jolt, and you feel yourself spiraling, the tension building faster than you can handle. his tongue flicks over you again, and this time, he focuses on that one spot—the needy, throbbing clit—sucking just hard enough to send you over the edge.

you cry out, your back arching off the bed, your entire body shuddering as the orgasm rips through you, and you can’t do anything but ride it out, trembling and gasping for breath as wonwoo keeps going, his mouth never letting up.

“fuck, look at you,” joshua mutters, his voice full of awe as he watches you fall apart. “so fucking beautiful when you come. i love it.”

wonwoo finally pulls back, his lips shiny and slick with your cum, his eyes dark and hungry as he looks up at you. “she’s not done yet,”

and you know he’s right.

“fuck, look at you,” wonwoo mutters, pulling back from between your legs, his lips still glistening with you. “i’ve got you ready for him, haven’t i?” the heat in your cheeks burning deeper as you realize what he means.

you don’t have time to respond before joshua's hands are on your hips, pulling you up to your knees. the shift makes you gasp, you glance back at him.

“yeah, you’ve got her real nice and wet for me,” joshua says, the blunt head of his cock teasing at your entrance. “good job, wonwoo.”

you feel a kick of embarrassment making your legs shake. wonwoo’s hand comes up to brush against your cheek, turning your face toward him as he looks down at you with that familiar gaze. “c’mere,” he murmurs, his thumb grazing over your lips. “i missed your pretty mouth.”

your lips part automatically, like you’re drawn to him, and before you know it, you’ve wrapped your hand around the base of his cock, guiding him toward your lips. he groans softly as you take him in, his hand resting on your jaw, fingers curling slightly as you suck him in deeper.

“god, i missed this,” he breathes out, his voice catching as you swirl your tongue around him, taking him deeper into your throat. “missed how fucking good you are at this.”

your cheeks flush at the praise, your body humming as joshua teases you from behind, the tip of his cock just narrowly entering you. wonwoo’s hand tightens on your jaw, guiding your movements as you bob your head up and down, your lips stretched around him. the weight of him on your tongue, the taste of him—everything is overwhelming in the best way.

but just as you start to take him in throat, joshua suddenly thrusts into you from behind, hard. the sharp intrusion makes you gasp around wonwoo’s cock, your teeth scraping lightly against him as the sudden cock fills you all at once.

“shit—!” wonwoo curses, his hips jerking as your teeth graze him, not enough to hurt, but enough to make him jolt. his eyes widen in shock, but then a shaky laugh escapes his lips, his free hand tightening in your hair as he steadies you. “motherfucker.”

joshua lets out a loud laugh behind you, clearly amused by wonwoo’s reaction. “sorry about that,” he says, but there’s no real apology in his tone, only satisfaction as he starts moving inside you again, his hips snapping forward with sharp, controlled thrusts that have you whimpering around wonwoo’s cock.

“you’re such a fucking asshole hyung,” wonwoo mutters, but the words are strained, his voice catching as he watches your lips stretch around him. his hand rests on the back of your neck now, guiding your head in time with his shallow thrusts as he slowly fucks your mouth. “fuck, just like that. good girl.”

joshua’s pace is relentless, his hips slamming into you from behind, both filling you—wonwoo in your mouth, joshua inside you.

“god, you’re so fucking tight,” joshua groans, his hands gripping your hips harder as he pushes deeper, the wet, obscene sounds of him fucking you filling the room. “woo, you’ve got her all loosened up, but she’s still so fucking tight around me.”

wonwoo chuckles, but it’s strained, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he watches you struggle to take both of them. “yeah?” he mutters, his voice rough. “she’s so fucking wet, isn’t she? dripping all over you.”

joshua’s pace falters for just a second as he glances up at wonwoo, and for a moment, they lock eyes. it’s strange at first, like neither of them expected to find themselves in this situation—watching each other while they both take you apart. its strange, strange because...

they start to enjoy it.

they enjoy the way their faces contort, the way their moans mix together, the sight of you caught between them—cocks twitching.

joshua whimpers as looking wonwoo's eyes, a smirk playing at his lips as he gives you another sharp thrust, just to watch you choke around wonwoo’s cock.

the sound of both of them moaning, cursing, panting—it only makes you wetter, makes you crave more.

“shit,” joshua breathes out, his voice strained as he keeps up the brutal pace, his hand sliding up your back, fingers digging into your skin. “fuck, you’re taking us so well.”

wonwoo’s face contorts, his hand tightening in your hair as his cock twitches in your mouth. “you’re gonna make me come if you keep going like this,” he groans, his eyes rolling back slightly as he fights to stay in control.

you whimper around him, your body shaking as the pleasure builds higher and higher, and you can feel yourself getting closer, every movement, every touch is pushing you nigher, and the sounds of their moans, the way they’re both so fucking into it—it’s enough to send you over.

“cum for us,” joshua growls, as his hips slam into you again, harder this time.

wonwoo’s grip tightens, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts as he watches you, his fingers flexing slightly on the back of your neck. “show us how fucking good you are.”

your body finally gives in. you come hard, your entire body shaking with the power of it, your lips trembling around wonwoo’s cock as you gasp for air.

“fuck,” wonwoo groans, his hand tightening on your neck as his hips stutter forward, his cock twitching in your mouth as he follows you over the edge.

joshua isn’t far behind, his hips slamming into you one last time before he lets out a sly, throaty moan, his body tensing as he spills inside you, filling you up.

wonwoo pulls out of your mouth slowly, his thumb brushing over your swollen lips as he looks down at you. you look at him shaking your head, taking his cock inside your wet mouth again.

the man melts on the headboard, joshua sat, looking how you look eager to make wonwoo cum, like you just cant leave him hanging. your knees give out, but your neck keep working to bob your head.

there's a line of spit dripping from your chin, as you suck him moaning, as the simply action of sucking him, was stimulating you. wonwoo eyes are glued with joshua's, the hyung biting his own bottom lip as he watches every single detail.

wonwoo feels the cock twitching, the gaze of his hyung plus the warmth of your mouth, making him cum on spot. he looks back at you again, the cum filling your tongue, leaving traces of it on your chin and neck, as you moan dumbly before laying on his thigh.

the boys make eye contact again, a smile spreading across their lips.

[pampushky]

Teaser: My Name Is Brutus (And My Name Means Heavy)

Alpha! Lando Norris/Omega! Lauda! Reader

oooo what's this?? me dropping a juicy little teaser of probably one of my favorite things I've written??

so. this is basically an ABO au with a race engineer & lauda mc, with the wonderful trope of enemies to lovers thrown in, as you will soon see from the scene I'm releasing a bit early.

other things about the fic: slow, and i mean fucking slow, burn. exploration of what disabilities would look like in the ABO world (especially centered around the sense of smell and how that could be considered a disability if someone doesn't have one in a world where most things are communicated by smell), societal pressures about what the ideal alpha/omega/beta should look like to the rest of the world which leads to Lando making assumptions about MC's secondary gender/sex, mentions of past emotional & mental abuse, PTSD, scarring, and worries about self-worth. Oh. and obvious hurt/comfort. But again, and I cannot emphasize this enough. Slow. Fucking. Burn.

uhhh i guess i'll do a tag list too for this so. tell me if you wanna be on that.

“I do have… issues, with the way you run things here,” you scratch your claw into the wood of the table, a low rumble in your throat. The scent blockers you have on are distracting to Lando. He wonders, briefly, what your scent is like, when it’s not so medicinal. “You need more discipline. Less media. It makes you seem… soft.”

“Soft?” Lando leans forward, tilting his head. You look back at him with your constantly blank stare, a slight frown on your lips, icy eyes that challenge even the Lauda death stare. “What do you mean?” You hesitate, looking to Zak and Andrea, who both gesture for you to continue. You then look at Oscar, who bites his lip and makes eye contact with you, and shrugs softly, as if permitting you to say whatever you were about to say.

“....you will take offense to what I’m about to say, I’m warning you.”

“Please, I’ll be fine,” Lando waves it off, grinning lazily. His nose twitches. The heavily medicinal smell of your scent blockers is getting to him. Do you truly need to cover your scent that much? Are you worried that he’ll act aggressively because you’re also an Alpha?

“.... no. You won’t. I’ve seen your interviews.” You say dryly, and fold your arms. Lando balks. 

“I beg you pardon?”

“You don’t take criticism well.”

“I take it just fine!” Lando shoots back, feeling himself starting to get frustrated. Why did you have to wear them? Even if you are an Alpha, the medication provided by the FIA should be more than enough to keep anyone’s tempers from flaring.

“Then you won’t throw a hissy fit when I list out all my problems with the way you work?” 

Your tone is icy. Even. Perfectly calculated. 

“Oh, you know I want to hear about your issues with me,” Lando slams his hands down onto the table, and you just raise an eyebrow at him. He’s down to his undershirt, his fireproofs hanging at his waist as you stare at him. “So say it! Don’t hold back!”

Andrea just massages his temples as Zak looks like he wants to be anywhere else. 

“Only if you don’t throw a tantrum when I’m right.” You state, examining your nails from where you sit, as though this is boring for you. Monotonous and icy-calm. 

Lando hates your voice. Specifically how robotic and monotone it sounds. What little he knows about you— which is as much as the rest of the world, with how private the Lauda family is— is that you apparently have some vocal chord and brain damage. Nothing substantial enough to impede your thought process or the way you speak to make you mute, but enough to have caused the monotonous way you talk. A small enough problem that Lando doesn’t feel like a total dick for what he’s about to say.

“Oh, just fucking say it, you robotic bitch!”

That gets your attention. You pause, slowly bring your hand down, and look at him. With the classic, terrifying Lauda glare. Your eyes pierce his soul, and for a second, just a second, Lando considers apologizing. Tucking his tail between his legs, his ears folded back. But then, he remembers who he is, and he meets your glare with his own, lips drawn back to bare his teeth....

[misfit-mccoward]

"would deidara fuck his own clone" yes, obviously. original flavor deidara/big tiddy deidara, nsfw

Deidara falls into this new world tits first. This is not what causes the problems. 

“What the fuck?” this world’s Deidara says, whipping around. 

They are in a forest. This world’s Deidara had been searching for a fresh water source and wandered away from his Akatsuki partner. Neither have any idea what’s happening, or why a mirror image is looking back at them. 

Deidara sits up, massaging her breast where she’d fallen on it and hurt herself. This world’s Deidara stares back at her. To Deidara, this new person looks like her, has the same hair as her, the same eyes at her, the same nose, the same mouth grinning up from his hands… but he’s a man. 

“Huh,” Deidara says, staring. She’s pretty hot as a dude. Dude-her has a vaguely androgynous look that she finds appealing.

Other Deidara stares back at her. Deidara’s Akatsuki has fewer dress code rules, and she’s wearing a tight T-shirt that shows off her impressive curves. Other Deidara’s eyes work their way over her, over her chest and across her narrow waist down to her perfect hips. Then, as all eyes do, his gaze moves back up to her amazing boobs. 

Deidara is fully aware how wonderfully and noticeably above average she is, and the sway this has on other people. Will it work on dude-her? Only one way to find out!

She arches her back, sticking her chest out for him to check out. 

“Huh,” other Deidara says. “I always knew I’d be hot as fuck as a girl, yeah. Are those real?”

“Come find out, yeah,” Deidara tells him. 

Deidara hesitates a moment, eyeing her boobs with a hint of skepticism. Deidara finds this strange. Absolutely no one in her world has ever said no to her offering to let them touch. 

You see, dear reader, this Deidara is not like the one you might have met before. She had been created not for the sake of an adventure story, or for menacing other ninja in a shounen manga. Rather, a strange pervert had dreamed her up, given her extra mouths and a comically large chest. She came from a world where everyone operated on the logic of an erotica novel, where sex always felt good and was the preferred outcome to every situation, and where her breasts saw the laws of gravity as more like guidelines. 

“Haven’t you always wanted to fuck your clone?” Deidara asks. “I know I have.”

She breasts boobily at him. The other Deidara’s eyes widen. 

“How did you do that?” he asks, entranced. 

She breasts even more boobily at him, tempting him with all her might. To her confusion, somehow this does not make him come on sight. Still, Other Deidara pulls off his Akatsuki cloak and then gets down on the ground with her, reaching for her breasts. He gives one an experimental pat and then a good squeeze. 

“Holy fuck,” he says, groping the other one just to confirm. “They are real, yeah.”

Deidara smirks proudly as he fondles her. Other Deidara looks absolutely fascinated as he digs his fingers into her and jiggles her breasts in little circles. He’s clearly more interested in the idea that he too might have grown huge boobs under different circumstances. Deidara wants him thinking about other things. 

“Are you as good with your hands as I am?” she asks in her most sultry voice, and a lecherous little smirk stretches across his face as he meets her eyes. 

Other Deidara has also thought about fucking his own clone.

She lets him yank off her shirt and sports bra, then leans back on her arms while he straddles her lap. He places one hand over each breast, just like she’d do to herself or another girl, then teases her nipples with his tongues. Deidara lets out a tiny, teasing moan. 

Other Deidara smirks at her. “Are you as good at blow jobs as I am?” he asks. 

They remove the rest of their clothes, and then make out while their hand mouths tongue at each other’s genitals. She’s a little disappointed dude-her doesn’t have an absolutely massive dick to match her huge tits, as to an erotica protagonist, there is simply nothing better than a giant dick, and she'd always thought having one would be fun. But even with a normal penis, Other Deidara is excellent with the mouth hands, and a normal sized dick is easier for her own mouth hand to suck off anyway. She carefully explores the shape of his entire dick with both her hand tongues, trying to memorize the details of the way his head goes and how his vein here feels. His tongue spells their own name on her clit, which is in fact Deidara’s favorite move to perform during foreplay, making the vagina she's about to make sopping wet as her own. It’s not her favorite for act upon herself, but something about it being her clone having the exact same move makes it all the hotter. 

Then she lets him straddle her waist and fuck her tits while he leans back and continues to eat her out with a hand mouth. He gets her to climax before he does, tonguing her dutifully through it, and when she’s done, he scoots up even further on her torso, both hands on her breasts as he presses his pelvis against their underside. He mashes her breasts around his dick, squishing them down for their mutual viewing pleasures and so that he can control the sweet pressure on himself. He grinds into her over and over, lubricated and slick by Deidara’s hand mouth’s own porn-logic saliva left on his length. Deidara is just starting to get bored with this when he finally comes, warm cum seeping out in between her breasts. 

He smirks down, pleased with himself and how he drips out from her chest. 

“You looking fucking hot, yeah,” he says. It’s a genuine compliment. 

“You’re sort of a disappointment, yeah,” she replies. It is a clear tease. She’s just watched herself fuck her own chest. She loves this. 

He’s not done, though. He eats her out in every position they can think of, with both hands and sometimes even his proper mouth, for hours and hours. They talk about art while he does it, which they are both fantastically correct about. Deidara is from a porn universe, and so she comes about six more times. Other Deidara laps her up.

Then Other Deidara finally fucks her with his regular sized dick. They do it missionary, which is neither of their favorite positions, but it turns out they mutually want to stare into each other’s faces while they do it. They lace their fingers together like a disgusting married couple, palm to palm, sticking their tongues into each other's mouths. 

I’m so fucking hot, both think. 

Other Deidara's dick may be normal, but Deidara likes it. It's her dick, inside of her, her cunt perfectly tight around it. Other Deidara's look of complete arousal is her look if she got to thrust her dick into herself, and he gets to see how turned on and hot she is with a hard dick inside her, how she'll moan louder when he thrusts deeper and faster.

They come in unison, the same strangled moan escaping their lips. Deidara feels so fucking good and sexy, knowing that the hottest face in the world staring down at her is also her face. 

This, dear readers, is the moment that spelled certain doom for this world. 

They don’t part immediately. They lie together for a post coital nap, and Other Deidara holds her tits from behind as he falls alseep. 

“Like a pillow, yeah,” he sighs. 

They nap for only an hour. During that time, the universe starts to shift, attempting to accommodate this new anomaly. Universal laws change. Logic itself changes. Human nature shifts slightly. A rift in the world has occurred, as she’s wormed her way in and made herself a permanent fixture. As Other Deidara’s hands curve to perfectly hold her breasts, so does the universe. 

Other Deidara wakes up and forlornly tells his clone that he has to go back to his mission. He explains that he’s got some really great art to make. She doesn’t want him to go quite yet. 

“I’ll let you fuck me in the ass if you eat me out with your hand while you do it, yeah,” she offers. 

Before, Deidara was impulsive but capable of ignoring his urges to do his job, especially if his job involved art. His hands were for art, after all, not some weird pervert’s creative writing project. He would not abandon his art to chase ass. 

However, the world has already changed. There is no going back. 

The other Deidara turns to his abandoned cloak to find that he does indeed have some lube he didn’t remember putting in one of his pockets. 

They fuck again. 

[reallychaoticwoo]

Hi, babe!!!! I just accidentally hit my head really hard and I need some comfort. So could you please write something for a non idol! Reader with some kind of injury? I’m feeling better now, but I still need something to get me going. Love you💕💕

⛓️Hello babes! So this may have been slightly self-indulgent as your girl is in SERIOUS need of some physical affection lol but i do really hope you enjoy it!⛓️

✨️Peace of mind✨️

❤️Pairing: San x reader

⚠️Warnings: cussing, some suggestiveness🖤

This is truly a fluff fest, and I am absolutely NOT sorry.

‼️This is purely for entertainment purposes and does not represent the idol in any way‼️

🖤This was not proofread, so I apologize for any typos or weird mistakes 😅 Hope you enjoy!🖤

You didn't plan on injuring yourself today, I mean, does anyone ever really plan on it? You'd been rushing to get your things together, eager to head home and get out of your uncomfortable office attire. Bending down to grab your laptop bag and purse your head collided with the corner of your desk. Your vision blacking out for a quick moment and a sharp pain shooting through your head, you let out a groan. "Fuck.." Your hand finding it's way to your forehead to apply pressure to the aching area. Sitting back in your chair hand still holding your head you heard a knock at the door. "Come in." San opened the door, leaning himself against the frame. "Hey I was just coming to see if you.... shit, are you okay?" The casual stance he had disappeared as he made his way to your desk. Pulling your hand away from your head his eyes widened. "You're bleeding y/n. What happened?" Concern written all over his face, he headed to bookshelf in the corner of your office where the first aid kit was. "I'm okay.." You started looking at your blood covered hand that had been resting on your head. "I was just trying to pack up and I hit my head on the desk when I went to grab my bags." He let out a small chuckle, internally scolding himself for laughing at your clumsiness. "Yup, that sounds like something you'd do." He sat on your desk facing you, pulling your hand into his to wipe away the blood with a small antibacterial wipe he'd gotten from your first aid kit. "So what were you coming in to ask me before you stopped to play nurse?" You asked, nuding his knee with your free hand, a cute little smirk resting on your face.

The two of you had a bit of a back and forth going at the office. Passing flirty winks back and forth in the hallways, randomly showing up at each other's offices with any and every excuse in the book as to why. Neither of you had actually made a move to further things, though. Part of you wondered why, but another part of you figured it was because the both of you knew dating in the workplace, you get really messy really quick. Either way, you always caught yourself wishing things could be more.

"Well, I was going to see if you had plans tonight. But considering you just tried to put yourself into a coma, I don't think now would be the best time for a date." As if it was the most casual sentence in the world, he leaned forward to wipe the blood from your forehead and face, with nothing but a concentrated look painting his own. "I wouldn't say no if you asked." You looked up at him, a glimer of relief and excitement passing through your wide eyes. He chuckled knowingly. "Oh, I know. Don't think I haven't been wanting to ask you out for a while now. I just didn't want things to get weird if I did, but I think it's pretty obvious we'd both like to see where this could go." You giggled at the truth he just admitted so bluntly. There was no arguing that you were dying to see what things would be like if you both just allowed yourselves to be honest with your emotions towards each other.

"So, how about instead of going out like I was originally planning, we stay in and you let me take care of you and that injured little head of yours?" Playfully nudging your chin with his thumb, he looked at you with warmth in his eyes and a shinning smile spreading across his lower face. You couldn't help but return the cheesy grin up in his direction. "That sounds even better, honestly. No loud noises or bright lights. And most importantly, no feeling the need to wear uncomfortable clothes to look pretty." He tsked, a fake pout spread across his features. "You wouldn't want to dress up and go on a nice date with me??" He crossed him, arms feigning disappointment. "Right now? No. I want nothing more than some comfy sweats and to get out of these harsh lights." Your head really was throbbing. As much as his banter improved your mood, your eyes had been squinted the whole time, and you were ready to go anywhere that was quite and dimly lit. His muffled laughter catching your attention, he offered you his hand to help you up. He made sure to grab your bags so you wouldn't have to bend down again and risk another blow to your already aching head. "Okay, okay, princess, my place work for you? I've got plenty of comfy sweats, you can pick whichever ones you want." Walking out of your office, your face resembled that of a high school girl getting a text from her crush. You were smiling, blushing, internally screaming, and giggling. I mean, who wouldn't feel that way when the hottest man to ever grace this planet was taking you home to comfort you and make sure you still got a little date out of it. Honestly, the fact you knew without a doubt he'd have no expectations from you made you weak in the knees. Just a genuinely caring man who wants to make sure you are feeling okay because you hit your head. You weren't sure the exact moment the gods started blessing you, but you were mentally thanking them the entire walk to his car.

The car ride was rather nice. His hand resting on your thigh, the two of you talking about everything and nothing. When you finally reached his house, he quickly opened your door, offering you his hand to help you to your feet. Outside his house was simple but beautiful. He had a wrap around porch with a black metal bench swing, stringed light bulbs lining the edge of the covering, and a sitting area with two large wicker chairs and a small table. His yard was well maintained with beautiful flowers and greenery placed perfectly throughout. You were admiring the simplicity and homey feel as he ushered you up the front steps and through his front door. The inside of his home was equally as inviting, sleek, and modern, with carefully placed decor, highlighting the various spacious rooms. Gesturing you to follow him, the two of you moved to his living room. "Make yourself at home. I'm gonna go grab you some headache meds and water really quick. I'll be right back." You smiled in his direction, nodding at him in a silent thank you. Sitting on the couch, you took a look around the living room. A large marble fireplace in front of you with a large TV mounted to the wall above it. The mantle was decorated with a few vining plants and pictures of who you assumed were his brothers or really close friends. You smiled to yourself at how many goofy and well taken photos he'd proudly displayed. He quickly made his way back to the living room with meds and water in hand. "Here, take these. I'm going to go change really quick, and then you can pick out your pj's for the night." With a warm smile and a gentle kiss to the forehead, he made his way down the hall and to his room.

It was only a few minutes before San was back by your side. "Alright, gorgeous, let's get you into some comfier clothes." He bent down, picking you up bridal style and carrying you to his bedroom before sitting you gently on his bed. Opening his closet, he motioned his hand to the large selection of sweats as if to say 'take your pick'. Your eyes lit up at the grandiose selection, a delighted smile on your face. Picking out a plain black set, he brought the clothing to the bed and laid it down next to you neatly. "You can change in here. I'll wait in the living room. You have any movie requests? I can order some pizza, if that sounds good to you." You chuckled at how considerate he was. If you were being honest you'd expected him to be a total fuck boy. The flirting at the office and his perfectly styled appearance just screamed 'I'll take your chick and fuck her in front of you'. Yet, even if there was some truth to that, he was actually turning out to be a real gentleman. "You pick the movie, I can never make a decision and my head hurts too much to even try right now. And pizza sounds great, thank you." With a quick nod, he was leaving the room to let you change. Alone in his room, sitting on his bed, you felt a sense of home. His bed was plush and comfortable. You had to fight yourself to get up and change, deciding it'd probably be off putting if he found you curled up under his sheets fast asleep when you never came back.

Walking back you to the living room, you stopped at the entryway, smiling to yourself at the sight before you. San had set up the perfect at home date night. A makeshift pallet full of blankets on the floor, several pillows leaning against the couch, candles flickering on the mantle and end tables. Pizza was sitting on the coffee table, which was pushed off to the side, sitting next to one of the end tables. He'd turned the lights off to make sure the brightness wouldn't cause your headache to worsen and had a movie already pulled up and ready. Thanking the gods for the nth time today, you walked into the living room, taking your place beside San. Handing you your plate, he pressed play on the movie before grabbing his own plate. Both eating now, you looked to the screen, a familiar movie playing. A movie you'd watched many times, usually when you were alone and sad, sobbing into your pillow at the when you heard the line "if you're a bird, I'm a bird." You should've guessed by this point he'd be the type of guy to enjoy romantic movies. What you didn't guess was that he picked this movie so he could see how you reacted. He wanted to see what made you laugh, what made you cry, and what made your eyes shine with want. He wanted to get to know you better and more than just small talk and casual flirting.

Finishing your food, he took your plates and set them on the coffee table. He put his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him, placing an attentive kiss to the top of your head. Leaning into his touch, resting your head on his shoulder, a content smile grew across your face. Although your headache seemed to be dissipating, the events of the day seemed to be catching up with you. Your eyelids growing heavier by the second. Noticing how your body seemed to grow more relaxed, San wrapped his arms around you and carefully moved the two of into a laying position. In the half awake/ half asleep haze, you softly muttered, "This is perfect. Thank you, Sannie." Your eyes never opening, you nuzzled further into him, your head now rest on his chest, your leg laid across his thighs. The soft touch of his fingers running through your hair and the steady beating of his heart lulling you into the most traquil night of sleep you've had in years. A soft kiss to your forehead and then to the top of your head, San allowed himself to succumb to his own tiredness, truly at ease with you in his arms.

[elegantlyeva]

I’m begging for Rafe angst pleaseeeeeee

Should've Listened

a/n: hi bb, sorry it's a few days late. Thank you for the request!

Warnings: Rafe, Murder, Kidnapping

Word Count: 1.1K 

You’re new. Kind of. You had just moved to the Outer Banks in September, and once Rafe met you, he made sure to silence anyone who tried to bring up Peterkin. Which, albeit, wasn’t easy, but after a couple of punches and a few hundred dollar bills, he was able to keep you oblivious to most of the things he got up to in his free time. Until now.

“I told you. I—I fucking told you to stay home. But you just don’t know when to quit, huh?” he mocked, taking tantalizingly small steps towards you. Your heart must’ve been setting world records with how fast it was beating.

“Rafe…I didn’t—” you inhale a shaky breath, stepping back from him. “I didn’t see anything, Rafe.”

He let out a laugh, an evil-sounding thing. “See, I’d love to believe you,” he drawled. “But unfortunately, the scream you let out could’ve been heard down the block.” You back up a bit more until you physically can’t.

He shakes his head. “I really wish you just stayed home, sweetheart,” he says, coming up to where you’ve backed yourself against the tree, raising a hand to cup your cheek. The action makes you whimper, from fear or longing—you didn’t know.

Rafe hadn’t been around the past couple of days; he was helping some sick little old lady. He let you meet her once a few days prior, then told you that you weren’t allowed to be with her alone, and if she ever tried to contact you, you needed to tell him. Limbrey, her name was. She was nice, a little airy in your opinion, but she made really delicious cookies.

When you left your house an hour ago, it was with the intention of helping your boyfriend relax. Your bag was filled with self-care products, face ones that he’d let you put on him if you really begged. You had your pajamas in it too, assuming you’d get up to some activities later and be too tired to go home.

In hindsight, he did tell you he was busy with work tonight. But in your defense, you thought he meant paperwork or phone calls for his dad. Not whatever this was.

Yet here you were, sandwiched between Rafe and a tree, all because your too-curious eyes peeked into the back of his (open) truck.

“Who, uh, who was he?” you ask, eyes darting around, planning an escape.

Rafe, as if reading your mind, wraps a tight hand around your bicep, smirking a little when he feels your body relax under his touch (despite you not wanting it to). “You run, you become a liability,” he starts. “And, baby, I really hate loose ends.”

“I wasn’t gonna—”

“You really wanna keep lying?”

Saying nothing, you shake your head in defeat.

Rafe sighs. “Don’t worry about the guy. He was an idiot.”

Your breath hitches. “You’re the one who killed him?”

“Fuck off,” he says, rolling his eyes at your wary look. “No, I didn’t kill him.” Sighing, like explaining this all to you was an inconvenience—and perhaps it was. “He pissed off the wrong woman,” he says, looking at you pointedly.

You were dumb to think Rafe was actually interested in helping innocent old ladies. “Limbrey killed him?”

“You didn’t find it weird I told you to stay away from her?”

“No?” The confusion in your voice makes him snort.

“Course not. You just listen blindly, right? Until it actually fucking matters.” He curses. “You should’ve stayed home.”

“Why do you have the body, then?” You really wish you had just stayed home and finished watching Gossip Girl.

He was just working so much lately, and you missed him.

Rafe scoffs. “That shit was an accident. I would’ve left it with her, but I needed the rest of what’s in there.” Pointing back towards the truck, your curiosity gets the better of you once more, and you move your head to focus behind him.

Rafe tightens the grip on your arm until you can feel a bruise forming. “Watch it. I think you’ve seen enough today,” he says, starting to drag you toward Tannyhill, your panic rising.

“Rafe, please, please. I won’t tell anyone, I promise,” you beg, scrambling to get away, but his grip on you is too tight.

“Why exactly do you think I’m bringing you inside?”

The question catches you off guard. He’s going to make you say it? What a cruel thing to do.

“To kill me?”

Rafe sighs. “I’m not a murderer,” though you’re starting to believe him less and less.

“You’re not gonna kill me?” you ask, just to clarify, and the vulnerability in your voice makes him soften.

“Course not, baby.” He presses a kiss to your temple, quickly.

You relax a little. “Why, uh, why are we going inside, then?”

Rafe shakes his head. “As much as I’d love to think you really aren’t going to tell anyone about what you saw,” you try to cut him off, but he continues, “I don’t. So unfortunately for you, we’re going on a trip in the morning.”

You shake your head, breath quickening. “Rafe, what? I can't just get up and leave. I have a family. Not to mention, I’m supposed to be going out with my friends tomorrow.” As soon as the words leave your mouth, you mentally facepalm. What a dumb thing to be worried about. “You can’t keep me here.”

He nods. “You’re right, I can’t keep you here. They’ll come looking. Hence the trip. C’mon, don't be dumb.”

“Trip where?”

“You’ll figure it out once we’re there. Now come on, like you said, you’ve got friends and family, so it’s time to write them a letter,” he says, shoving you past the front door.

You think you hear Sarah in another room with Rose, but you’re not sure. “You’re gonna tell them you ran away, and to not come looking for you because you want to try life on your own.”

You scoff. “They aren’t going to believe that.”

Rafe shrugs. “Well, for their sakes, you better hope they do.” The way he says it sounds like a threat.

“And if I don’t wanna come?”

He smiles sinisterly. “Oh, sweetheart. It wasn’t a choice.” 

[justrainandcoffee]

The sound of silence (Alfie Solomons x fem!oc) + (Alfie Solomons x Tommy Shelby)

Summary: Why did she agree? To make Alfie happy. Why did Tommy accept? Because love is blind. For two years they've been living under the same roof. She and Tommy sharing the same man... And the same misery. Love makes you feel happy, people say. They know it's not always true.

Warnings: Angst. ANGST. || Alfie is bigamous.|| Everyone here is miserable. || Mentions of killing and political corruption. Period typical homophobia. || Did I mention ANGST?

Words: 3.6k || Alfie masterlist

"Put a number."

There she was in front of a man making business with him to save her husband and his lover from a catastrophe.

"The newspaper is not for sale."

"Everything is for sale if you know what is good for you and your family. Put a fucking number."

The man was around 45 years old and that money was synonymous with an earlier retirement. Silence had a price and his newspaper, too.

"Twenty-five grand."

"I'll make 27 and I'll guarantee that your ass is safe, as long as you learn to keep your mouth shut. Do we have an agreement, Mr. Donovan?"

"Yes, Mrs. Solomons."

"If you open your mouth, a bullet will open your fucking brain. Do you understand, right?"

"I do, Mrs. Solomons. I do."

First she signed the papers that made her the legal owner of the most important newspaper in London and then, she gave him the cheque. If 27,000 pounds didn't make him be quiet and understood the kind of people were behind her, then violence will. But that was the last choice.

Two policemen started their days with a bullet in their hearts and an inspector appeared drown in the Thames. But they were just isolated accidents: thieves and a suicide. That's what the newspaper was going to say the following morning.

No mentions of the fucking party.

Solomons-Shelby was an alliance that could make the King shit on his throne. And the leaders of both bands were fucking in the same bed.

-Two years ago-

Alfie liked him. Rose knew it the moment her husband started to talked nonstop about the Birmingham man as soon as they met and for the first time ever she experienced jealousy. Until Thomas Shelby appeared, Alfie never put his eyes on anyone else but her.

"I love you, Rosie."

"…but you also love him."

Alfie didn't like him. Alfie loved him.

"Do you want the divorce?"

The words shattered her own heart. The idea of a life without her Alfie sounded like millions of knives in her soul. They were always him and her against the world, since they were kids. Always. Silent tears started to run down her cheeks, but she kept looking at him.

"Fuck! No! I can't live without you, Rosie. Don't ask me that again! I love you."

"Do you?"

"Like always."

"Did you cheat on me with him?"

"No. Not even once."

"Did you fantasize about fucking him?" she continued asking. But this time Alfie didn't answer. Rose bit her lower lip and nodded "You did."

Rose demanded to meet the man in question. She didn't expect to see what she saw. The man in front of him was the kind of person that God put on Earth to make other doubt about themselves. And Rose, was one of them. Took her little to nothing to understand why her husband for years, her forever love, suddenly appeared in their house with someone else in his mind.

She agreed because she didn't want to see Alfie lost in a world where he craved for a touch she couldn't give him. She agreed because the last thing Rose wanted was to see the person he loved the most being sad. She agreed because she didn't want to lose him.

The first night Alfie spent with Thomas Shelby, Rose did it crying in their bed praying for that was just a bad dream.

"I'm not going to leave you. I'm not going to leave you," he said over and over again when he returned the next morning. She was laying on him, both of them in his favourite couch, while his arms were around her. "I don't know how to say this anymore, but I love you, sweetheart. I swear I love you."

Rose nodded "I know."

She was a proud woman and even when it was Alfie, Rose didn't want to show weakness. She wasn't weak, even if she was broken.

Seeing her, Alfie promised himself that the previous night with Tommy it was going to be the first and last at the same time. Rose could put her mask of strong woman, but Alfie was the only one she couldn't fool. The woman next to him, was once the little girl that committed shenanigans with him. Alfie grew up knowing how she lied. He knew how to read her easily. And she was lying.

The man cupped her face and kissed her. Slowly with tenderness. He loved her and the last thing he wanted was to make her suffer.

"I love you. Tell me you believe me, Rosie."

"I do."

No, she didn't. She didn't believe him.

"Just give me time, Alfie," she said reading his mind.

"How could you doubt that I love you?"

"I don't know what I believe anymore... I'm still trying to understand why did you slept with someone else. And why I agreed."

Because Tommy Shelby is a demigod, her mind said. Of course Alfie chose him.

"It won't happen again."

"Don't make promises you can't keep."

.

Tommy couldn't deny his feelings anymore. The amount of prostitutes he slept with, because supposedly that was something men did, couldn't be compared with what happened with the other man in that house he bought in London. It was a small, cozy house that was bought with the sole purpose of fuck with Alfie there. And that was what happened the night before.

He was smoking still in bed, alone and thinking about him. Alfie was married to a woman and Tommy knew Alfie could kill for her. Tommy knew very well that his friend never was going to leave Rose, not for obligation due to the marriage vows, but because he was still in love with her.

To society, she was his wife. Rose was the woman he could walk through the city and no one was going to ask a thing. Alfie was free to hold hands with her and kiss in public. They even made a cute couple. The way his eyes shone when he talked about her and the special way he had to say "My Rosie."

But him, Tommy, he was a fuck in a house after midnight when no one was in the streets. And during day he was Solomons' business partner, the gangster leader of Peaky Blinders. The one who never was going to be anything but a pal.

Tommy started to dress to return to Birmingham. Suddenly he felt like a whore, too.

Nothing but a whore, his mind said.

But Rose was right. Alfie couldn't keep his hands off Tommy. Even if he resisted the temptation the first weeks after their first encounter, Alfie and Tommy found themselves in the same situation more than once. And the most time they spent together, the more in love they fell.

Alfie never hide it from her. Alfie was ready to stop if she didn't consent that anymore. In her whole life, Rose never wanted more to yell at him, to beg him to stop seeing the other man. To even shook him. But she lowered her head and agreed once again because his husband was happy. And also agreed to receive Tommy in her house, to live with them.

Agreed to share the meals with him. To see Alfie's eyes looking at him with love.

Agreed to divide the time she shared with Alfie, and that once was only hers, with another person.

In the next two years she lost her husband as such, her self-esteem, her voice and her smile.

Now

"I bought the newspaper," Rose said entering the house. Tommy and Alfie were in the same table, drinking tea. Or at least her husband was drinking tea. "Donovan won't be a problem. I'm sure."

"Thanks, sweetheart."

"Don't thank me, Alfie. I hope next time you two decide to go to a party, at least check that it's not a fucking trap," she left her coat on a chair and removed her shoes. "I'm sorry, I'm just tired I don't want to be mean… I'm tired. Just that. Don't mind me."

Both men saw her go upstairs to her and Alfie's bedroom.

"Maybe you should go too and check on her," Tommy said. "She's upset."

"I know that. She's my wife!"

"Well, then do something. Today is her turn, after all. And she started her day saving our asses. My ass, especially because she saved me just because of you."

Her turn.

Alfie followed his wife's steps upstairs hearing Tommy's voice. He was right, but doesn't meant it was pleasant to hear. It never was Rose's turn, same way it never was Tommy's turn like if his heart switched to one person to another. One could say that it was perfect to have two people to love living under the same roof. If one got mad, then the other could be willing to open the arms. The double of sex. But it wasn't the case, real life didn't work that way. And lovely as it sounded, it was also tiresome. And not just physically.

"I'm not in the mood," she said when he entered the bedroom.

"I know, sweetheart."

Two years passed and she learnt to be in silence when she wanted to scream. At him. At Tommy. At herself for being so stupid.

The daylight contributed to her bad mood so she closed the windows and let the darkness embrace her. Rose sat down in bed and let out a deep sigh, rubbing her face with her hands.

"I miss you, ya know?" Alfie said sitting at her side. "I miss you, Rosie."

"Mmh. I'm right here, Alfie."

"You're not."

It took them a while to make an agreement. Alfie could spend one week with each of them, doing whatever they want. Watching movies, having sex, killing people, whatever they wanted to do but away from the other part of the fucked triangle they now belonged. It was a great deal for Tommy because he was free to be with the man he loved in the big city that London was, and had time to return to Birmingham to take care of his business. But it wasn't so great for Rose who had to spend her week alone surrounded by her own thoughts in a house that was too big just for her and the dogs. And when it was the time to be with her husband, she felt exhausted.

Alfie touched her hair with his fingertips and caressed her jawline, too. It was hard to think that for him, but he couldn't ignore it anymore, although it was easier to think she was just tired. But Alfie had to come to terms with himself and admit that he didn't see her smile in a long time.

She was always a happy person, anyone who knew her for sure heard her laugh. How many times the two of them were reprimanded by teachers because they couldn't stop giggling? And not so many years ago, the quiet hours together usually were interrupted by Rose's laugh because he told her something that happened in the distillery or because they were commenting something they heard in the radio. Or Cyril's shenanigans. But now, even if he tried, Alfie couldn't remember seeing her smiling.

And they didn't make love in months.

"My women killed the policemen and the inspector. No one will suspect and no one will ask a thing. But I expect that next time you be more careful, Alfie."

"Tommy will repay you the money you waste on us."

"I don't want it. But if it makes him feel better he can make a donation for the school."

"A donation will be, then. Luv, I was thinking that we can go to a pretty restaurant tonight. There's a kosher one, it's new. Ollie told me that it's quite good."

"Okay."

Alfie kissed her cheek "no matter what you think, I still love you and I'll love you till my last day."

Rose gulped to make disappear the knot in her throat and nodded. Don't cry. Don't cry.

"I know, Alfie."

The man hesitated for a second before putting an arm around her. She was so tense that it felt like moving a piece of furniture to him. For a moment she didn't reciprocate the embrace, but when Alfie moved his body to let her go, her hands grasped to his shirt and hid her face on his shoulder.

"Don't leave me," her voice was broken and the tears she was holding were wetting his chest.

"You know I would never leave you."

"I don't know anything about us anymore, Alfie. But please, don't leave me."

Downstairs, Tommy was smoking. Last thing he wanted was to break the precarious situation the three of them were in. The invitation was on Ada's table when he visited her earlier that week, probably belonged to Ada's roommate. It seemed to be harmless and when he commented it to Alfie, he agreed. There were no places for them to go as couple and for once, it seemed to be a good opportunity, only it wasn't. Homosexual parties weren't uncommon but it was risky. Numerous times, men ended in the gallows thanks to the laws. But that was London and his partner wasn't someone else but Alfie Solomons and he could buy freedom because of money or because of fear.

Tommy didn't dare to see the faces of the other men who were still in the police station, when both of them left the building. How many of them were going to die just because they were experiencing happiness one night in their lives?

Tommy remembered Rose's face when Alfie woke her up at 4am when they arrived at the house. She didn't say a word and to be honest with himself, Tommy never heard her say a lot although it was well known by people around the Solomons, that she was talkative as much as Alfie was. The woman went to her office in the house and made some phonecalls. She had her own people, all women, behind her to protect the school she founded. And those women never hesitate to follow her orders.

Killing the cops was a way to say the rest of the police department that better they keep their tongues tied. Same with the former owner of the newspaper.

Tommy lighted up another cigarette. What was he next to her? Alfie's wife sent three men to hell and a fourth one was threatened, just to protect her husband's name. And his. He was part of the man she married now and Tommy didn't know if she was going to do something like that for him, again

Or how much time Alfie was going to be able to bear with that kind of life. In Tommy's mind, if Alfie was going to choose someone then it was going to be her. But he didn't want that.

.

Allowing Alfie to touch her again, it felt good. Especially because he was sweet with her. Maybe it was true he missed her.

He was on top if her, kissing her neck and stroking her sides. That was the life they deserved to have but after knowing Tommy, after tasting him, she wasn't sure if she was enough for Alfie.

How much self-esteem was a man capable destroy?

Outdoors she fought for women's rights, freedom, fuck the patriarchy, down with men.

Indoors, she was ready to share her husband if that meant to remain on his side. And the only thing she had to sell was her own happiness.

"You promised me a life full of love," she said, later, in his arms. "We were kids. We were in love and I believe you."

"I promised you a lot of things and I'm fulfilling none."

"Not true. You did but I'm not the only one in your heart anymore. It's not your fault that you fell in love with him, too."

Alfie kissed her once again. It wasn't fair for her, among the three of them she was the one who gave in the more.

"I'd give my life to see you smile again, Rosie. My Rosie."

.

"How's she?" Tommy asked when Alfie went downstairs, once his wife finally fall asleep.

"I don't know."

"I did tell you or I didn't that this was going to break her? It was a fucking bad idea from the very beginning."

"What do you want me to tell ya, Tom? Eh? I fucking love you! And it didn't seem that bad the first time to you, not even last night. Fuck off!"

"I love you too, Alfie. I do, but this is not working. Your wife is a ghost of the woman I know she was, you don't know how manage two partners and I-… I feel like a homewrecker."

Alfie sat on his couch and petted Cyril's head who seemed to be the only one happy in that house. "You're not."

"Are you sure?"

"There's a reason I gave you a ring, Tom."

Tommy looked at his hand. It happened around eight months ago. No one were going to notice that he was using another ring, considering he wore several ribgs all the time. They were in bed when Alfie pulled out a little velvet box from the nightstand table and gave it to him. That was the moment Alfie became bigamous. One marriage was legal and open to society, the other no and belonged to the shadows and the solitude of their room.

Only Rose noticed the extra ring, but she didn't say anything. Like it was usual. Tommy too remained silent in several occasions and even Alfie didn't let his mind speak as it was common to him.

In the Solomons-Shelby household, most of the time the only thing that could be heard was the silence.

.

It was midnight that same day when Rose heard noises downstairs, but neither Cyril or Beast were barking, so she asumed the one making noises was Tommy. Rose put her nightgown on and went to the living room, she found Tommy packing.

"To Birmingham?"

"Yes." Tommy looked at her, before closing his suitcase. "Forever."

"You can't."

"Tell me why can't I, Rose. It's my fucking life."

"He loves you."

"No more than he loves you. Let's be honest, Rose, you want me out of your lives." Tommy put his coat on and searched his cigarettes in one of his pockets.

The woman embraced herself and nodded. "I do. But Alfie could be miserable again because no matter what I do for him, I'm not you. I'm not God's best creation, I'm not smart as you are, I don't have your eyes, I can't be all you are even if I reborn a thousand times. He chose you and if roles were reversed, if you were the spouse and me "the other one" I don't think he'd do all the things he did for you."

"Then, you're belittling yourself. Your husband is capable to fight the Devil for you."

"Because I'm his best fr…"

"Because you're his fucking soulmate, Rose!! And that's something I'm never going to be. Don't underestimate yourself anymore, because I know very well the way he talks about you when he's with me and that's something he doesn't do when he's with you… FUCK!" Tommy threw the cigarette on the floor. "Rosie this, Rosie that… and I know he doesn't mention me when you two are together because he doesn't want to hurt you. But he hurts me."

She sat on a chair and looked at him. "I don't think he does that on purpose."

"No, he does not. But he still does it. So, I better leave before it's too late to leave."

"If you go, he'll go after you. He's also your husband, right? The ring. You don't need a legal paper to prove that. Not in front of me."

Tommy shook his head.

"Go to bed," she said. "Tomorrow it'll be a new day."

Rose turned around, not waiting for an answer. She entered the bathroom before returning to bed with Alfie. She stared herself in the mirror. The woman looking at her wasn't the one she knew once. That one was a pathetic version of the woman she used to be proud of.

But she wasn't there to feel even more pathetic. She was there to do something else. Rose looked at the mirror again and she practiced how to smile. For Alfie, she thought, trying once again. And her eyes were filled with sadness, but she kept trying until got a smile like the ones she used to have.

The next morning when Alfie went to the dinning room he found Tommy reading the newspaper, the one under new management, and Rose having her usual breakfast.

"Good morning, Alfie," Tommy said.

Alfie greeted him too and sat next to Rose who was looking at him.

"Like you practice…" the woman thought and gave Alfie her best smile she could. "Morning, Al."

Alfie kissed her forehead. No, she couldn't lie to him, and Alfie felt miserable because he knew she didn't want to smile but was trying to make things easier.

For a moment they shared a normal morning but despite their efforts, the silence return to the house. Except in their own heads.

Alfie overheard the conversation the night before between Tommy and Rose. That wasn't a good life for any of them.

He loved them, but he wasn't selfish, not when it was about love. Alfie made a decision, now he needed to say it, even if his own heart was going to end broken, probably forever.

[astro-inthestars]

I fucking hate how the world came to this point.

I just. i HATE the fact that after MILLIONS OF YEARS this is where we end up!

All these *standards* and *norms* of how things "should be."

What defines what makes someone beautiful or desirable or just PASSABLE!! It drives me up the FUCKING WALL!!!

WHY DID WE DECIDE THAT ANY SINGLE ODDITY ON A PERSON IS UGLY OR UNATTRACTIVE!!!!!!!! WHY WHY WHY WHYYY THE FUCK DID WE DO THAT!

They did it so what??? so so what so there's a bar to be set?? so some people are above the others??? or some capitalist BULLSHIT to sell more beauty products???

Because GUESS FUCKING WHAT ASSHATS you're just!!!! HURTING PEOPLE YOURE JUST HURTING PEPLE YOU'RE HURTING A FELLOW FUCKING HUMAN BEING YOU SHARE THIS FUCKING EARTH YOU WALK ON AND AIR YOU BREATHE!!!! YOU'RE JUST HURTING THEM!!!!

FUCK!!!

I FUCKING HATE FATPHOBIA!!!!

The most AMAZING FUCKING PEOPLE I know are FAT and they're BEAUTIFUL AND I LOVE THEM!!!! BUT THE WORLD DOESN'T WANT ME TO! FUCK THEY DONT EVEN WANT THEM TO LIKE THEMSELVES NOT EVEN A LITTLE AND DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH THAT HURTS???

MY BROTHER, MY BEST FUCKING FRIENDS, THE LOVE OF MY GODDAMN LIFE- I. I just

fucking hell man . fucking hell. watching my brother insist a diet that limits what he and my mom eats feels like my insides are being put through a meat shredder. my girlfriend my. oh my god fucking hell- the most gorgeous person i have ever fucking met thinks she's not beautiful because she's gaining weight. do you know how fucking painful that is to watch??? you just feel so hopeless as you stand and watch because because it's been planted in their brains that gaining weight would deem them unlovable to the rest of the world and it HURTS SO MUCH and i hate it i hate it i hate it i hate it i HATE IT

I just fucking wish all the hatred in this cruel fucking world just fucking vanish into thin air so people can be themselves and people could love themselves and be okay and happy and healthy and safe but it's not like that and I. fuck im just tired man. im just tired.

i guess i just wanted to scream to the abyss because i just feel so frustrated and helpless because i cant do SHIT i cant do shit im just im just some kid man! im just some kid who loves too much and it sucks because i cant fix everything. im just a kid that wants the people i love to be happy. is that too much to ask for..?????

[caeslxys]

Something I think is extremely interesting thematically when it comes to connecting what Downfall and the ideas it tackled to the overarching narrative of campaign three is that the things Downfall made a point to showcase of Aeor—Cassida, Hallis, the visual of an aeormaton proposing to her partner, the specific and intentional decision to shed light on a far from insignificant amount of the population being civilians or refugees—is that it plays in perfect parallel across from what is happening (and, really, has been happening) to the ruidusborn on Exandria in present.

Bear with me for a moment. Aeor is ultimately a city that was collectively punished for the decisions of its leadership. We could (and, judging by the amount of discourse around this particular topic already, probably will) argue about what the Gods’ motivation for all of this was—whether it be that they could not, in the end, bear to kill their siblings or that they were terrified at the prospect of mortality—for me it is a very healthy dose of both—but for this I am much more interested in the latter. They were scared. That, really, is the driving force behind both this arc and their role in c3 as a whole.

Why I point this out is: It is far more interesting to me, especially as we go back to Bells Hells this week, to dissect the Gods and their decisions not purely on sympathetic motivation alone but as beings in the highest seat of power in the highest social class in Exandria.

So, having established that the Gods (in relation to mortals) are more a higher social class than anything we could compare to our real life understanding of divinity and that Aeor was eviscerated largely because of their fear—what is the difference between those innocents in Aeor caught in the trappings of their autocratic government leadership and a divine war on the ground, and those of the ruidusborn being manipulated both by Ludinus and by the very thing that inspired such visceral fear in the Gods to start with. I would argue very little.

I think of Cassida, doing what she genuinely thought was right and good and would save people, her son, and the object of her worship—and how that did not matter enough to any of them to spare her because of the fear they held at the very concept of mortality. I think of Liliana and Imogen, one of which we know begged for the gods to help her or send her a sign for years on years, and how every single one of their largest struggles could have been avoided had the gods loved them, their supposed children, as much as they feared what they could be. I think of how the thing that did save Imogen, in the end, was a woman who herself existed in direct defiance of the gods will. I think of that young boy, sixteen years old, that Laudna exalted on Ruidus.

I think it’s completely fair to judge Aeor’s overall society as deeply corrupt—it was!—but its leadership and police force are not a reflection of every one of its citizens. Similarly, it is fair to judge the Ruby Vanguard as corrupt—it is!—but its multiple heads of leadership and even the god-eater further are not a reflection of every one of its members.

Notably, and what I think the Hells will latch onto, this did not matter to the Gods. It did not matter that Cassida was trying to help. She was still too much of a risk. Will it matter, what Imogen does? Will it matter, if that young boy is in the blast radius when they decide to take no further chances?

I’ve seen a lot of people say that the Hells will side with the gods and I don’t think I agree. Especially as Imogen has been scolded and villainized over and over for daring to try and save her mother—who herself has been seen by some as an irredeemable evil in spite of her drive being the exact same—her family—but when it’s the Gods it’s justified? When it’s the Gods, it’s sympathetic? Too sympathetic to criticize further than “they’re family”?

I obviously do not think the Gods should die or be eaten or what have you, and I certainly don’t agree with Ludinus (though I find him much more compelling than just a variation of hubris wizard), but when talking about the Gods in Aeor and in present it isn’t really at all about their motivation or their family. It can’t be. Too many people, including our active protagonists, lives have been effected for it to be as cut and dry as “they’re family”. These are your children. They are your family, too.

[makotonaegiunderstander]

something I’ve been thinking abt is how many people think Makoto is immune to despair. I don’t think he is. I think becoming the ultimate Hope was BECAUSE he felt despair. He wouldn’t have fully reached that point without Junko. Makoto becoming such a beacon was his last attempt to avoid completely falling and it wasn’t because he didn’t feel despair, it was because he was too damn stubborn to allow everything to go to waste and he refused to sacrifice his beliefs for someone else’s. His inner monologue tells me he DID experience the same new low the other suvivors did in the final trial, but at the point where he had the choice to give up and die, he looked at the others and he looked at Junko and he couldn’t allow it to happen, not out of self preservation, but because the idea that Junko would have control over their lives made him FURIOUS. and that utter refusal to die kicked in, wether luck or otherwise, and he made the concious effort for one last push while something in him was breaking. He had to be broken in order for the Ultimate Hope to come through so aggressively, bc it could only exist in the face of the Ultimate Despair. He snapped the same way she did, but in the other direction. In what could have been his final moments he chose to embody everything Junko wasn’t, and every single optimistic and luck fueled ideal in him suddenly charged forward and pushed him. It was a combination of the final straw and a choice. Makoto isn’t immune to feeling despair, he’s just too stubborn to fall into it of his own volition. I think that’s why I like that scene in DR3 so much. People were SO SHOCKED Makoto actually fell for the tape, that he actually became despair for a moment. I saw people getting mad or disappointed, saying it was pathetic and Makoto seemed to fall from some sort of pedestal for them. Honestly part of me wonders if that sort of mentality, which clearly people had in universe, affected Makoto a bit. Like he started to see himself as less of a person, subconsciously. Prompting him to take more risks, less self preservation, act way more bold. It seems he has to be reminded a lot not to put himself in danger by his friends, to not do something too reckless. All over the place I would see in regards to that scene either this frivolous ‘oh this was just angst drama with no meaning behind it’ or ‘he can do better than that. he’s so weak’ or ‘come on, there’s no way he’d fall into despair, he’s the Ultimate Hope!’ This kind of mentality, which was kind of ironic considering Ryota was there the entire time saying the same thing and treating Makoto the same way. Like Makoto was superhuman. Like Makoto didn’t feel despair the same way ‘normal people’ did. In a way that was also how Munakata saw Makoto. Makoto stopped being a PERSON to the world when he became Ultimate Hope, he became a concept, a belief system, much the same way Junko ascended beyond herself. But the difference is that treating Makoto that way is the opposite of the reason Makoto became such a representative for hope. He wasn’t doing something no one else could. He was doing something everyone had the chance to, he just… was a little more optimistic, a little more stubborn, a little more ‘gung-ho’ about things. He just took the lead where no one else did, where no one else knew they even COULD in the face of Junko’s unstoppable force. She had overcome the biggest threats and obstacles in the world, what could one person do? And the answer Makoto found was, anything. Everything. It doesn’t all rest on Makoto, he’s just the one that was inspired to try to do what seemed like the impossible. But as evidenced by the change in his friends after that trial, it’s clearly not something only Makoto is capable of. The others pulled out of despair thanks to Makoto, but it was their choice to do so.

“But… this world is so huge, and we’re so small. What can we do…? No, we can probably do anything. Yeah! We can do anything!”

[pierregaslays]

:(

[giantkillerjack]

Uh-oh! You are like, SOOO awkward!!

You're so awkward that it is occasionally mildly uncomfortable for people!

You're so awkward that sometimes people are confused by you and then there are awkward silences!

You're so awkward ...... that ultimately no one is harmed!!

Oh damn!!! What a vile crime you have committed! What an unforgivable thing it is to make a fellow human briefly confused!

Why, if *I* were ever briefly confused and kind of uncomfortable as a result, I'd be devastated.... by the absolute net zero change in my happiness and health! - From which I might never recover!! Yes indeed! No punishment can ever be enough for you!!

So you better absolutely hate yourself for it.

Better be SO MEAN to yourself about every single missed social cue so you don't forget your horrible crime! Meaner than you'd ever dream of being to someone else for the same thing! This is YOUR responsibility!

You need to show the world that you KNOW you are bad by punishing yourself constantly! After all, think of all the people who BENEFIT from you punishing yourself! - No, really! Think about it! Think about who benefits from your pain.

Think of alllllll the definitely-good people that your definitely-necessary self-torment definitely helps! I mean, you can't just cut off their definitely-life-sustaining supply of your suffering, right?? Sure, everyone else has a breaking point, but you're probably the only person in human history who doesn't, right? Best not to question it probably. Sure, it's a symptom that billions of people with trauma have had, but who knows? You could be a one-in-seven-billion exception. Anything's possible!

Instead, better just accept that idea that bullies carry like guns in holsters - the idea that people who have trouble with social cues deserve to suffer. Better carry on the burden they placed on you until you drop. Aid the cause of the callous by enforcing shame and suffering upon yourself extra hard; try your best to do their work for them. They're very busy.

Better not recognize that you need patience and kindness to heal from your trauma. Better not find out that it was trauma rather than personal weakness filling your head with self-hating thoughts. Better not find out it wasn't your fault.

Better not find out that awkwardness is not inherently harmful or unkind, and, in fact, the people who act like it is *are the ones enacting harm and being cruel.*

Better not get righteously angry when you realize just how much unnecessary damage this has done to you. After all, if you get mad, you might realize you deserve better. You might even feel brave enough to DEMAND better! You might build boundaries that keep you safe! You might make other people think they deserve to feel safe too! And we obviously can't be having that, so...

Better not show yourself even a little kindness a little bit at a time.

Better not make a habit out of it after all that practice.

Better not get confident.

Especially if you can't first wipe out every trace of awkward. (And you probably never will. Because people who experience absolute social certainty at all times tend to be insufferable assholes that enforce the status quo. And you just don't have the stock portfolio for that.)

Better not be confident and awkward because then you might confuse and delight people

- you might accidentally end up making other people feel less shame for their social difficulties

- you might make isolated, traumatized, and shy people feel like they deserve to be included in social situations

- you might even make them feel they can be themselves around you

- you might start loving the effect you have on a room

- you might enjoy conversations more

- you might forgive yourself and bounce back from shame more easily and frequently

- you might come to enjoy some of those moments of harmless confusion you cause because NOBODY expects the Confident Awkward, and that can genuinely be an advantage in social situations

- you might stop apologizing so much.

- you might find that socializing is like a video game: it requires practice but also a safe space for it to be fun and positive.

Or if you can't become assertive and confident, better not remain awkward and shy and quiet, and then love and forgive yourself anyway!

Why, it would be carnage!!

In either scenario, you run the risk of finding out that it's not your fault that safe spaces full of kind people can be really hard to find, create, and nurture. You could end up building a skillset that helps you do those things if you're not careful!

If you start giving yourself even the tiniest amount of grace at a time, you will find that you've accessed a gateway drug with extreme long-term side effects:

- You might realize that it was never your fault that it took so long to like yourself.

- You might realize that you were always worth talking to, even when you didn't like yourself and communication felt impossibly difficult.

- You might realize that you'll still be worth talking to even if communication becomes harder as you age and/or experience disability.

- You might come to know that you deserve to be heard even on bad days when words come slow and blurry.

You might discover that you were always deserving of kindness, first and foremost from yourself.

So. As you can see, it's FAR too much of a risk to start granting your awkward self free pardons for your many heinous and harmless crimes. Better to just leave it there.

[toxictrannyfreak]

Just read Nona the Ninth and. what the fuck what the fuck what the FUCK. Cows watch sunsets We just wanted to save you you were so sick She could hear Varun sing You haven’t been in the River lately And I’m MEGA dead Go loud You could have lived for her but you didn’t know how You’re on Kevin toilet duty for being a zombie Is this not how meat loves meat? I’m going insane and dying and suffering AND there wasn’t even a mention of my beloved niche blorbo Matthias Nonius. I have to go to school tomorrow what the hell.

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

.

[constantvariations]

Probably one of the most unfortunate things about RWBY is, for all it's inclusion of characters of color, there's no real cultural identity behind any of it

Outside of names, what is there to identify Yang or Ren or Sun as Asian? Other than skin tone, what marks Emerald as a Black woman? What marks Maria as hispanic besides her surname and clothes loosely inspired by Dio de los Muertos?

The few times crwby genuinely tried to tie these things together have ended in total failure. Flynt Coal is so unambiguously Black that his weapon and design are just Jazz... and that's his entire character. The Black One to counter our White Hero for 4.2 minutes, then claim he digs her style, thus negating every relevant real-world implication of a large, wealthy white family driving small time entrepreneurs of color out of business

Every single attempt at inclusion is through such a glaringly White lens that it's no wonder that people often mistake Sun or Ironwood as white despite being named after a Chinese deity or being modeled after their Asian VA. And that's so disappointing in ways I don't think I could ever truly put into words

[fionnaskyborn]

there's something to be said about the very specific feeling of frailty you feel when you come face to face with just how little you've experienced. twenty-odd years on planet earth and you haven't really watched all that many movies. an unlived life facing an uncertain future. i do not know where to point the finger of blame because i live untethered from my past, floating in the present with no clear point of reference no clear definition of who i am or what happened to me and how i turned out the way i am (fucking. can you guess why five is my favorite game. insert that one lyric from that one modest mouse song.) but you're still here, and you can still learn, and you can catch up, but it still feels like you're a pitiful little nobody looking for excuses trying to explain why you're still new to the whole being alive thing. i've got a good head on my shoulders, though, for all that's worth, so i think i might be fine.

in other news, i watched scarface tonight. it was certainly a movie. don't really understand how the movie made it big, but it did have some damn good music. i mean, i don't know. i'm still learning about the world i live in. maybe it really is as much of a masterpiece as people make it out to be and i'm too dumb to see the reason why it's considered a classic. maybe i'm right. i can't tell at the moment. it's kind of a beggars can't be choosers situation - if you ain't watched that many movies, then you can't really be a good judge of quality. but, oh, well. it's one more movie watched. it's a win because i watched a movie. and i'll watch more movies.