#Wellington sure likes this

[ic-napology]

Here you go:

napoleon buttocks

murat has COMPETITION

[lordcastaway]

obsessed with the line-up

[1978-combo-organ]

very rushed adamandi fanweek art!!! vincent and ambrose as freshmen (poem + concept art under the cut)

My friend likes fruit. I'll offer him a spare orange I keep on me, and he will jab his thumb into the peel, leaving the flesh a jumbled mess.

My friend doesn't peel oranges the right way. That was his words, his nails were too short cut to cut through the skin, his hands not 'dainty' enough to separate the pieces, he never did like things he couldn't do well.

My friend doesn't like the way the pulp stuck to his hands. I wasn't ever opposed to getting my hands dirty, so I'll peel my orange as best I can, letting the white stringy bits fall off with the exterior, and he'll toss the scraps in the bin.

Since my friend likes fruit, I'll cut the orange in two halves, one for him, one for me --- it's hard for me to give my all for things, though I'm trying to give my all for him.

Even though I cannot do much, I can still peel oranges. The tips of my fingers can worm their way above the flesh without harming the fruit, I can share half of my time, my routine, my life, I can still be the person who peels your oranges.

[kanerallels]

William and Eliza + decorating for Christmas, please?

Hmmm don't mind if I do, enjoy this randomness!

Rapping lightly on the doorframe, William opened the door to Eliza’s office without waiting for a response. “Eliza, we need to—”

He stopped short, staring at the scene before him. The room, usually rather spartan in its decorations, was far from that now. Wreaths hung here and there, and tinsel was draped on every surface that could conceivably carry it— and some that couldn’t. The legs of the desk and both chairs were wrapped in a string of popcorn and cranberries, and garlands of holly trimmed the chairs.

From the ceiling hung easily twenty long strands of red and green paper rings, which criss-crossed the room. And from those strands hung tiny bouquets of what William knew had to be mistletoe.

“What in heaven’s name?” he said.

“I know,” Eliza said irritably, and he followed the sound of her voice to where she was standing on top of her desk. About her feet were strewn several bunches of mistletoe, and as William watched, she reached up and tore another one down. “Don’t ask, just help me put it back how it was.”

“Right,” William said, resolving to ask anyway. He started into the room, only to stop short when Eliza held up a hand.

“No— no, you work on the other end of the room,” she said quickly. “The last thing I need is to get stuck under the mistletoe with you.”

Rolling his eyes, William headed to the far corner of the room, remarking, “Does that really sound so unpleasant? As I recall, the one time I did kiss you—”

“William, I am going to stop you right there. Because today has tried my patience enough, and if you keep talking, I’m going to be forced to brain you with a poinsettia.”

Snorting, William got to work. “Fair enough.”

[an1muuarts]

it was around 1:30 am when this was recommended to me

and it was actually scary wtf

(also cw for drug overdose if youre gonna watch it)

[servants-hall]

From the latest Masterpiece email newsletter, from producer Susanne Simpson:

Miss Scarlet and The Duke returns for Season 4 on Sunday, January 7th at the special time of 8/7c. Audiences can’t get enough of our Victorian feminist crime fighter, and she doesn’t disappoint in six new episodes that find her and The Duke unpacking puzzling crimes as well as poignantly recalling how they first met. Here’s a first look at Season 4. [links to the first teaser we got]

Meanwhile, one of the local affiliates has tweeted this:

📅 NEW season of intrigue & romance. #MissScarletAndTheDuke Eliza takes the reins at Nash & Sons and William reaches a pivotal moment. A tale that'll shape destinies on @ masterpiecepbs

[paverics]

lmao me too. i saw it on my trusted website when i was looking for a crime show with at least a female lead and as soon as i saw the cover i thought This looks gay. didn't expect it to be this gay and in this way but was pleasantly surprised. kinda dumb but also serious

i also started from and it's good so thx !

oh very cool! i never watch crime shows personally so i didn’t go in with any expectations. i just happened past a vague tumble post. i thought it was going to be more comedic, like a touch of cloth or wellington paranormal, but it’s more on the serious side

no way, you started from??? it’s such a unique show, love that for you. i don’t know too many people who watch it. i hope it’ll get a s3! i’m 80% through s2 but i don’t want to keep watching because then it’s over 😭

[elodieunderglass]

A Roman-nosed grey hunter named H -

H

HIPPOLYTE

You know how I said I was back on my Sharpe bullshit.

Well it took precisely one comment at a precisely timed commute to tip that balance

Woe daemon au character sketch be upon us

[seospicybin]

TWO TRUTHS AND A LIE.

ROUND 2

Lee Know x reader. (s)

Related chapters: Round 1

Synopsis: Let's play two truths and a lie, and here goes the first thing about Minho: He is good in the kitchen. (10,3k words)

Author's note: I just thought that we need to play another round. Hope you had fun reading this x

Content warning: Infidelity.

Let's play another round of two truths and a lie where Minho shares three things about him and you have to guess which one is the lie.

Here goes the first thing about Minho: He is good in the kitchen.

That's the first thing Kim told you about Minho, he is good in the kitchen and that explains why you often find him in there, cooking meals or something his girlfriend, Kim, asked him to make, sometimes it's something as simple as fried rice to something as complex as beef wellington, he can do it all. In conclusion, his cooking skill is unquestionable.

Just like this morning, the first thing you see as you come out of your bedroom is Minho making something in the kitchen. Before he notices, you slowly tiptoe your way back to your bedroom and reach for the doorknob to—

"Morning!" Kim cheerily says as she comes out of her bedroom.

You instantly turn around on your feet and pretend that you've just come out of your bedroom. From her attire, you can tell that she's going for her morning run.

"Morning, Kim!" You say back with a smile, "Going for a run?"

"Yep. Minho is making pancakes," she answers as she ties her hair into a ponytail, "Have to burn some calories so I can eat more calories."

As a dancer, Kim diligently watches her weight but instead of getting on a rigorous diet, she prefers working out even though her job, dancing, is also working out, and she only spoils herself with a sweet treat on the weekend. She's heading to the kitchen to give Minho a quick peck on the lips and then puts her headphones on.

"I'll see you guys in a bit," she says before walking out the door.

Leaving you and Minho alone in the apartment is not a good idea but how can she know when you've been doing things behind her back?

Since he's already seen you, you may as well start your day, by going to the kitchen and getting yourself a cup of coffee, you just need to get the milk from the fridge, then you'll be out of Minho's way.

As you keep the fridge door open to put the milk back inside, Minho appears behind you and reaches for a carton of eggs from the fridge, his forearm brushes your waist as he retracts his hand.

You quickly step away and take the other end of the kitchen counter, stirring your coffee with a spoon while looking at the weather outside, at the sunlit clouds drifting across a clear blue sky.

"Can you hand me the sugar?" Minho points at the bowl of sugar in your reach.

"Sure," you say, picking it up and placing it on the kitchen counter next to him.

You're going to the other side of the kitchen counter and take a small sip of your coffee, you can sense the caffeine works to bring your brain to function. At the same time, your sense heightens that you know Minho is coming behind you to put the jar of sugar back into its place.

However, when he retracts his arm, his hand stays on your waist and it stays there, making you wonder what he's trying to do next so you turn your head to the side.

In the blink of an eye, Minho quickly captures your lips in a kiss and wraps his arms tightly around you. Your body is quick to respond to it but your brain is working at a sluggish pace.

By the time your brain catches up to it and tells you to stop, Minho already has his hand under your camisole and fondles at your breast.

"Minho..." you whine against his lips.

He breaks the kiss and stares into your eyes, "What?"

It's at the tip of your tongue and your mouth is open but no words coming out of it. Deep down, you know you want it and you don't want it to stop.

Instead of saying what you want out loud, you curve your arm around his neck and pull his head close for a kiss, picking it up and taking it up a notch.

With his free hand, Minho pushes your camisole upward, sending it hunched around your chest and exposing your breasts to the cool morning air.

He wastes no time to freely cup your breast in his hand and he likes how it fits him right, making him think that they were made just for him.

There's not much room for you to move with his arms firmly wrapped around you but when his hand glides down to cup your clothed sex, you start to push back against him and feel his bulge growing behind you.

Your common sense comes in ebbs and flows, and when it finally hits you, you suddenly pull his hand out of your shorts and break away from his hold.

"Kim will be back soon," you remind him with your voice tinted with concern.

Minho puts his hands on each side of your waist and makes you lean against the kitchen counter, "She won't be back for a while," he calmly says.

He then buries his mouth in the crook of your neck, peeling back the layers of worry off of you with every kiss he planted there.

All of a sudden, you find the guts to put your hands on his chest and push him a little too hard it sends him staggering a couple of steps to the back.

No matter how far you push him away, your body wants to be as close as possible to him. You find yourself walking back to him and taking your turn to corner him against the kitchen counter.

He's wearing this plain white t-shirt but gosh, it looks good on him and you like it even more when you can trace the muscles on his body through the fabric.

"But we don't know for sure," you say, leaning in for a kiss which he eagerly returns and makes him ask for more.

However, it's the grey sweatpants he's wearing that make you lose your mind a little. It's unclear whether it's the fabric or the color or the style of the pants that somehow accentuate the shape of his cock, or the way he walks around in the apartment in it and unaware of what it does to you.

You quietly pull his sweatpants low enough to let his member free out of its confine and without looking, your hand knows what it's looking for and immediately wrap your hand around it, slowly stroking it.

"For all we know, she may be back in a few minutes," you say against his lips.

Minho is engrossed in how you're slowly stroking his cock as you speak, it takes him a while to respond to your question.

"She won't," he assures you, pulling you close by the waist and putting his hand between your legs, rubbing your clit through your shorts.

"She's been gone for fifteen minutes now," you say before he has your lips locked with his again.

"Then we just have to make it quick," he simply resolves, lifting you by the waist, and swiftly, he turns around on his feet to sit you on the counter.

As a dancer, he is trained to lift his partner and he does it seamlessly as if he's lifting a piece of paper. Well, he has the muscles to prove his years-long dance training.

"Minho, we can't," you say as he leans in to kiss your neck.

Instead of stopping him from coming at your breasts, you hold them up for him so he can take them into his mouth.

He sucks on the flesh hard that you wince in pain and he lets go with a satisfied grin, "we definitely can," he coyly disagrees.

"What I'm saying is—" you pause as he parts your legs open, sending you leaning to the back and you quickly prop a hand to support you.

Minho tugs his hands at the elastic band of your pajama shorts and thinking of taking it off of you, you scramble to stop him.

"Just put it to the side," you tell him.

He obeys your words, putting the shorts along with your underwear to the side. He delightfully sighs at the sight of your heating core and he uses his fingers to feel how wet you are for him.

"I can't stop when you're this wet for me," he mutters as he swipes your lips with his fingers coated with your essence, then shoves it into his mouth next.

Feeling challenged to do the same, you lick your lips and get a taste of you on your tongue, you taste so sinfully sweet as the kiss he's about to plant on you.

While his lips keep you busy with kisses, Minho aligns his cock with your entrance, he rubs his tip between your folds then with a slow push, he starts to enter you.

The kiss breaks as the two of you shift your focus on how his cock pushing its way inside you. You spread your legs as wide as possible and watch as his cock is slowly disappearing into you.

Minho curves his hands around you and then glides them down until his hands meet the curve of your ass, he pulls you close, seeking closeness as he's about to fully bottomed out inside you.

"And I can't stop when you feel this good," he says as he crashes his lips against yours again.

The room soon filled with your low moans combined with the sounds of his hips against the back of your thighs. His nails dig into the flesh as he steadily keeps your legs open for him.

Even with your brain clouded with pleasure, a slight of fear comes creeping up in you and makes you keep looking to the side, in the direction of the foyer, and the fact that Kim can come in any minute now.

"Minho," you breathlessly call in between your moans.

You continue talking when you have his attention by putting your hand on his neck, "We can't keep doing this to Kim."

"I know," he says with a small nod, "it's unfair to her."

And it's unfair how he tries to take your mind away from things by suddenly adding intensity to his thrusts and going as shallow as possible inside you.

"Uh-huh, it's unfair," you repeat your words, suddenly losing all the words in your head.

Minho pulls you even closer until you're sitting on the edge of the counter while keeping the pace steady, he lets go of your legs and wraps his arms around you instead. He looks down at his cock slipping in and out of you then when his eyes find you, he intensely stares into your eyes as if he dares you to try to stop him again.

The truth is you're just a human who tends to make the same mistakes and above all that, you're just a girl who wants what she wants and in this moment, you want nothing else but him.

The grip on his shoulder tightens as you come to your climax, your moans turn into breathless whines and you bury your head in his neck.

Yet Minho keeps going and chasing for his high as your walls pulsate and flutter around him, all of those stimulations combined with the fear that Kim may walk in on you and him doing it in the kitchen only arouses him more.

"Don't cum inside," you whisper into his ear.

Now that you said it, it only makes him want to do it and he plans on ignoring those words.

You crumple the front of his t-shirt in your hand and force him to look you in the eyes, "Minho, you can't cum inside," you warn again.

Hearing the urgency in your voice, Minho refrains from doing it and wisely follows your words.

"Where do you want it then?" He asks, suddenly getting curious about your answer.

"My mouth," you shortly answer because it's the only way to make sure to leave no trace of this abomination. No trace means you can pretend that this never happened.

Minho stops moving for a second, unsure if he heard you right. You put your hand on his neck and say again, "You can cum in my mouth."

What you said seems to trigger something inside of him that he continues thrusting into you harder and faster, not caring that you've just cum around him a while ago which only make you even more sensitive than before.

You let him have it because this is the only way you know that'll bring him closer to his release. Also, you don't know how long this has been going on but you know that you don't have much left before Kim comes back.

All of a sudden, Minho puts his arms around your waist and steadily hoists you against him. You immediately wrap your legs around him and your arms around his shoulders.

"Oh..." a raw groan escapes his mouth as he lets go just a little and feels his cock deepens inside you as you cling to him.

The two of you stay still like that for a moment, encased in endless pleasure and palpable desire for each other that it feels like the slightest movement would break the spell.

Sadly, time isn't on your side.

You slowly let go of your hold around him, forcing Minho to put you down gently until your feet touch the floor and eventually, he has to pull out of you, making you feel the sudden emptiness.

You kneel on the floor as he incessantly pumps his cock to keep the stimulation going. You can see his cock, all red and veiny inches away from your eyes as you offer your mouth for him to dump his load.

Seeing him from this point of view surely feels new to you but not less arousing, you can see his forehead wrinkled with how much he focuses on chasing his release.

The most arousing part is the way he's looking down on you, seeing how much you want his cum in your mouth and he's the only one who can give it to you.

"Wider," he murmurs through his gritted teeth.

Also added is the fact that he is someone's boyfriend, oh, everything about it is arousing you so much that your hand flies to your cunt, touching yourself as you obey his word. While maintaining eye contact with him, you open your mouth wider and stick your tongue out a little, waiting for him to shoot his load on you like a bitch in heat.

The second his cum spurts out of his tip and lands on you, you gasp at how hot it feels on your skin. You close your eyes and keep your mouth open as more of his cum gets on your tongue, your lips, and all over your mouth.

Using the tip of his sock, Minho smears his pearly white cum all over your lips, tempting you to put it into your mouth and of course, you cave into the temptation. You give his tip a few kitten licks before taking his length little by little, you compensate for the rest you can't take with your hand.

"Oh..." he delightfully sighs with his head thrown back.

To see him fully indulging in it and hearing him moaning on pleasure encourages you to keep going, sucking him hard and syncing it with the pumping of your hand around the base of his cock.

"Oh, yes, keep going," he mutters to you with his voice soft and sultry.

He puts his hand in your hair and tugs at it, using it to angle your head slightly to the back to provide him more depth as he gently pushes a little more of his cock into your mouth.

"Fu..." his profanity trails off and turns into a breathless moan as he slowly begins thrusting his cock in and out of you.

You're aware that he's using your mouth for his pleasure and you don't mind any of it, if anything, it makes you want to touch yourself more. You allow yourself to do just that, rubbing on your clothed clit as Minho is fucking your mouth.

"Mmh..." you moan with your mouth full of his hot, swollen flesh.

"Oh, you and your fucking mouth," he mutters with a low breath, his eyes intently watching how you're taking every thrust of his cock into your mouth.

For a split second, you forget about Kim until you hear the sound of the front door opening and then closing. You're about to pull out but Minho's grip on the back of your head forces you to remain still.

Your heart starts pounding inside your chest as you hear her footsteps coming closer and she stops just on the other side of the counter where you remain hidden on this side with her boyfriend's cock deep in your throat.

"Oh, it's so hot today," Kim says, still panting from running. You hear her pouring water into a glass and then the sounds of her heartily gulping it.

Minho remains calm and puts his free hand on the counter, "Yeah, you sweat a lot, honey," he says.

There's a low thud of what you assume coming from Kim putting her glass down, "And where are my pancakes?"

"I want it to be hot when you're having it," he simply answers.

"Well then, I'm going to wash my face, and my hands and I'll be ready for pancakes," Kim says.

You can only imagine how she smiles brightly at him when she said it, oblivious to the fact that her roommate is sucking her boyfriend's cock as she speaks.

"They better be good," she adds as she walks away.

You start to relax when you hear her footsteps receding, then you hear the sound of the door being opened and then closed after.

Minho finally lets go of his dead grip on the back of your head and you immediately pull out, a little too fast that you choke on your saliva, sending you into a coughing fit.

You rise from the floor, fixing your clothes as you head to the sink to wipe the mess on your mouth with the running water.

It has just sunken into you of what you did with Minho, the guilt hits you like a ton of brick and it tastes bitter on your tongue no matter how much you rinse it with water.

"Are you okay, babe?" Kim asks you as she comes into the kitchen.

Her presence makes you choke on water this time, you grab a bunch of tissues from the box and wipe your mouth with it.

"I'm okay," you answer, "I'm just choked on something."

Without looking, you can feel Minho's sly smirk from across the kitchen counter. It's best if you exclude yourself from this to avoid any slips out.

"Where are you going?" Kim asks you, she drags a stool and pats it, "Come sit and eat pancakes with me!"

"No, I have something—"

"What do you possibly need to do on a Sunday morning?" She asks with a pout.

"Come on, take a seat!" She says, excitedly patting the seat and inviting you to sit next to her.

If you persist on leaving, she'll only get suspicious of you so you relent, sitting on the stool next to her while holding your cup of coffee.

On the other hand, Minho did his part too well. He acts like nothing happened and successfully makes pancakes for both you and Kim.

"You want cream with that, honey?" He asks Kim but his eyes wander your way for a second.

"No, thank you," Kim politely refuses, "but I'll have the syrups."

Minho wastes no time to get it for her from the kitchen cabinet and gives it to her. He then takes a tube of whipped cream and gives it a shake.

"Extra cream for you then," he says to you as he places creams on top of your pancakes and flashes you a faint smirk that only you can see.

Unable to respond to it with words, you stab the pancakes with your fork and have a bite at it, hate to admit it but it tastes good.

Well then this makes the first statement a truth: Minho is indeed good in the kitchen.

-

This is it, you say in your head as the bell in your head goes ding!

The apartment may be much smaller than Kim's but it has everything you need, a bedroom, an adequate space to be called a living room, and a fully functioning kitchen. The only downside is it's a farther commute to work but the affordable rent makes up for it and that's the most important thing.

"Are you going to take it?" Gaspard asks as he floats through the crowd like a divine being among mortals.

"I have to take it," you answer while trying to keep up with his long strides, "It's the best offer."

"I think so too," he says, putting his arm around you so you don't stray away from him.

"Yeah?"

He nods, "Cause then you'll be living only a few blocks away from me."

"Oh? You know what? I change my mind," you jokingly say, turning around to walk in the opposite direction.

"Hey!" He holds you back and steers you to the right way by the shoulders, "No turning back now!'

About a week ago, you made it very clear to Gaspard that you want to stay as good friends with him but it's easy to tell that he still believes this can be more than that. That leads you to act careful around him because you're scared that he's mistaken it for something else.

"Aren't you going to invite me upstairs?" He playfully asks as you both stand outside the apartment building.

"Better luck next time," You joke back with a gentle push on his chest.

"Not even for a can of beer?" He sweetly blinks his eyes at you in the hope that will be enough to persuade you.

"Just one!" You cave in because he's been helping you with the apartment hunting and you've been walking around since this afternoon until the day turns dark.

"Just one," he repeats your words in agreement.

"Promise?"

"Promise!"

The apartment is empty because Kim and Minho are out on a date which makes it a convenient time to enjoy a cold drink after a day's hard work.

"Where's Kim?" Gaspard asks as you join him on the sofa.

"I think they're going to the movies or something," you mindless answer, you couldn't care less about what they're doing on a date.

The two of you get quiet after taking a long gulp of beer and gasp at how refreshing it is like you didn't just have it with dinner earlier.

"I reckon you're going to break the news to Kim soon?" Gaspard asks as he leans back on the sofa with his head turned at you.

"Well... yeah," you meekly answer and it reminds you how of you're not ready for that part yet.

"How do you think she'll react?" He asks as he secretly puts his arm around your shoulders.

"I don't know," you sigh, then take a sip of your beer, "I just hope that she knows that the reason has nothing to do with her."

"What's the reason then?" Gaspard asks for the first time and seems to be genuinely curious about the answer.

It feels like you're trapped by your own words, you know the reason but you can't tell him or anyone for that matter.

"Because I want to live close to you," you decide to risk getting it mistaken for something else instead of letting him in on the answer.

With the hand around your shoulders, Gaspard easily pulls you close until you're sitting elbow to elbow and bumping knees with him on the sofa.

"Have I told you you looked beautiful today?" He seduces you as he's brushing your hair to the side.

"Not enough," you jokingly answer.

Gaspard leans in to whisper it to you right into your ear, "You're so beautiful," he mutters then kisses on the cheek.

"Thank you," you sweetly say with a smile.

Catching you off guard, he places one more kiss on the other cheek and pulls away with a big smile on his face. Well, you've done your part to spare him from the disappointment so it's not your fault that he puts himself back on the track for it.

"You promised it was going to be just one beer," you scold him along with a sassy eye roll.

"And I'm not finished with my beer yet," he cleverly answers.

The front door flies open and Kim comes into sight, finding you and Gaspard snuggling close together on the sofa. She smiles at you and puts down her bag on the dining table.

"What do we have here?" She asks with a sly smile.

"Nothing. We're just drinking beers," you calmly answer while quietly putting a safe space between you and Gaspard on the sofa.

"Yeah, I'm just here for one beer," Gaspard says, emphasizing the amount of beer with a sly grin flashed your way.

"And he'll leave soon," you add, returning the sly grin to him.

Taking this as a sign to give you privacy so you can break the news to Kim, Gaspard says, "And I'm leaving."

"No. Stay," Kim says as she sits on the sofa next to you.

"I can only bother you this much, Kim," he jokingly says and comes at you for a hug, "I'll see my way out."

"Thanks for today," you say as you hug him back.

You wait until Gaspard leaves to talk to Kim about what you did today and that you'll be moving out of the apartment soon. You finish your beer to fuel your courage and quietly exhale air to calm yourself down.

"Kim, I need to talk to you about something," you start.

Kim brushes her long dark hair and rests it on her shoulder like a waterfall, "Mmh? What is it?" She asks.

Now, that you have her attention and no one else is here except for the two of you, this is the right time to tell her. You open your mouth and plan to just give it to her all at once until Minho comes through the front door.

"Where do you want me to put it?" He asks Kim, showing the plastic bag he's carrying in his hand.

"Can you put them in the fridge for me, honey?" Kim answers.

"Sure," he shortly answers, going to the kitchen to do what Kim asked him to do.

"I ran out of my fiber drinks," she says, explaining what she made Minho bought for her.

"Ah, I see..." you meekly respond, losing every word you've been carefully arranging in your head so you abort the plan to tell her about the apartment situation.

"So, what do you want to talk about?" She asks with a soft smile on her face, making you feel even more disheartened to tell her.

"Oh, I..." you feel tempted to just let it all out but your eyes keep uneasily glancing at Minho and you don't want him there to hear it.

"I forgot what I'm trying to say to you. Sorry," you lie and add a foolish laugh to convince her.

Kim seems to buy it as she cracks a laugh and gently slaps your knee, "You silly!"

"I'll tell you once I remember it," you say to her.

Or more like, when Minho isn't around.

-

Two days have passed with Kim is still oblivious that you'll be moving out of the apartment soon.

You always missed each other's timing, when you had the time, Kim was in a hurry to go to the academy and when she was alone at home, you were working late that night. It's like a mysterious force trying to hold you back from telling her the truth.

When you came home from work tonight, you found Kim eating dinner alone in the kitchen. To make sure that Minho isn't around or coming unannounced like usual, you simply ask why she is by herself when her boyfriend always drives her home and usually stays to have dinner together.

"Minho's car broke down so I took a taxi home," Kim answers with a low sigh.

"Oh, that's upsetting," you keep your expression in check as you say it, not risking Kim catching you turn his misfortune into an opportunity.

"It's about time he sends his car to the shop anyway," Kim says.

It's unethical to interrupt her in the middle of her dinner so you carefully pick your timing and wait until she's done with her dinner to talk.

You grab a can of juice from the fridge and take a seat next to her, "Kim, can I talk to you about something?" you hesitantly say.

"Sure, babe," she says, putting down her glass of water then stacks her hands together on the dining table, "What is it?"

"A week ago, I found a suitable apartment not far from Gaspard's. It's not as big as this..." you gulp air to be able to continue talking, "It's in a nice neighborhood and the rent is affordable so I'm thinking of moving in there."

A moment passes in silence as Kim processes your words, her fingers wrapped around the bottom of her glass and tapping at it.

"You want to move out?" She asks as the glints in her eyes slightly dim.

"Yes," you hesitantly say.

"I reckon it's about time that I get my own place," you hurriedly add the number one reason why you want to move out so she doesn't think that it has anything to do with her.

"It's not because of me, right?" She meekly asks.

"No," you answer without a beat, "I love being your roommate but you know... I can't stay here forever. I eventually have to move out."

"Nonsense! You definitely can stay here forever," Kim remarks as she grabs your hand on your lap.

You put your hand on hers and softly smile at her, "I'd love to but..."

You can't keep living with her knowing you've been betraying her and the guilt is eating you alive from the inside as you speak? You continue in your head.

"It's either now or later, it's something that I have to do," you settle on a reasonable answer.

"That's true," Kim weakly says, looking a little taken aback by your announcement.

"I'm sorry if this is so sudden. I didn't mean to keep it this long, we were so busy these past few days that I only got the chance to tell you now," you explain with utmost sincerity.

Kim nods and puts on a smile for you, "it's okay. I understand."

Your heart is getting heavy the more you talk, you'd better end it before the guilt gets to you and you're giving it the chance to crawl out of you. You grab your purse, rummaging through the content for the envelope you've been putting aside and planning to give to Kim.

"This is for this month's rent," you hand the envelope straight into her hand.

She folds it in half and puts the envelope back into your hand, "Take it. You need it for moving and buying stuff for your new apartment.

"No, Kim. I can't. It's yours!" You forcefully put it back into her hand but she balls her hand into a fist.

"Consider this as an early housewarming gift," she insists, holding your hand down to make you stop giving the envelope back to her.

"Kim, no... I shouldn't—" You sigh in defeat, having no other way to make her accept your money.

"I'm going to miss you," Kim's voice cracks, and the next thing you know, she's hugging you so tightly that you can feel how much she meant her words.

"Oh, Kim, you can't get rid of me yet," you playfully say to lighten up the mood, "at least, for the next three weeks."

This is why you have to move out soon, Kim is too kind and all you do in return is use her kindness to fool her and stab her in the back, you've been treating her like a shit friend, and you feel sick have to keep doing that to her.

-

This is statement number two: Minho knows that he's the reason why.

There's this gut feeling that something is going to happen. This could be just a reaction to the change you'll face soon, new apartment, new neighborhood, there'll be no Kim, and the realization that you'll do everything on your own at that point.

It's scary and exciting, you feel a little bit of both at times. One thing that always lingers inside you is this slight fear that Minho possibly knows he's the reason why you decide to move out.

A week went by and you can safely assume that Kim must have told Minho about the apartment situation. You swear you're not expecting anything at all from Minho, but he's been strangely normal and taciturn which only confirms that something is actually off about him.

You should be taking this as an advantage because then you wouldn't have to interact with him and fewer interactions lead to you making fewer mistakes with him.

Work has been keeping you busy too that you haven't had the chance to pack your things. When you come home late tonight, Kim is already sleeping and you don't want to bother her by the sound of you shoving your things into boxes.

Well, you still have a week left anyway to sort your things out and you're tired from work, you hurriedly make your way to the bathroom for a quick shower.

In the midst of it, you hear the knocking on the door and your first thought is that Kim must be in urgency to use the bathroom.

"Kim?" You call but there's no answer

You turn off the shower and put on a bathrobe, you carefully walk as water drips down your body and hair to open the door.

"Is that you..." your words trail off as you see who's coming into the bathroom and it's not Kim.

There was no sign that Minho was in the apartment when you walked in because you could tell from the sight of his shoes in the foyer or his bag that sits in the living room so unless he has the ability to become invisible, it means that he came just now to the apartment.

Gosh! You tried so hard to avoid temptation and now it's coming to get you. You're clutching your bathrobe together and head to the door.

"You can use the bathroom," you say without looking at him.

He grabs you by the elbow to stop you from leaving, he pulls you hard enough that your body crashes against him, then wraps his arms around you.

"I heard you're moving out," he says.

You break away from his hold and put his hands away from you, "not your business," you say.

Minho is quick to catch your hands by the wrist then he folds them together behind your back, making you unable to move as he leans in to kiss you.

You turn your head to the side, not letting him kiss you but instead of doing that, he steers your body to the back until your back meets the bathroom sink.

"Is it because of me?" He asks.

You scoff and make a mocking smirk at him, "Not everything is about you, Minho," you say, daringly staring into his dark brown eyes.

Catching you off guard, Minho crashes his lips against you and you hate that you instinctively return his kiss. He pulls away for a bit then plants his lips on yours again, deeper and hungrier than before.

Getting a moment of clarity, you pull away from the kiss and keep your head turned away from him, "We can't keep doing this to Kim," you remark.

He leans in close until his face is only inches away from yours, "So you admit that it's because of me?"

There's no way of denying it anymore so you may as well just admit it, "You made me do this and I don't—"

He cuts you off with a kiss and you have to pull your head back hard enough to break it, "I hate myself for it and I hate you for making me keep doing this to Kim," you bravely tell him right to his face.

He leans in even closer so that you can see the dark orbs of his eyes, "Tell that to me once again," he dares you.

This is the time to break away from this cycle that shackles you with guilt, you should stop now before all this guilt weighs you down and drown you further.

"I hate you, Minho," you unequivocally tell him with unwavering eyes.

Minho intensely stares into your eyes to see if your words match what you're feeling inside. His eyes flick down to your lips, tempted to lean in for another but when his lips make contact with yours, he changes his mind.

He lets go of his hold on you all at once and then takes a step back, exiting the room and leaving you untethered for good.

-

It seems like what you've said to him has done it because Minho acts like you're not even there whenever you're in the same space with him and this morning, you find yourself in the kitchen with him just quietly minding your own business.

This is good, right? That means there'll be no more mistakes, no more betraying Kim and you can start being a good friend again. The best thing of all, you get to move out of the apartment on a good note.

"Hey, you're not working late tonight, right?" Kim asks as you're enjoying your morning coffee.

"I hope not," you say, putting down your half-eaten toast on the plate, "Cause I have lots to do tomorrow."

Kim nods and pours herself a glass of orange juice, "Since this will be your last night in an apartment, I'm hoping that we can have dinner together," she says with a smile.

She walks up to Minho and places her hand on the small of his back, "Minho will be cooking, of course, and I'll get a nice bottle of wine for—"

You quickly swallow your food to refuse the idea, "Oh, no, Kim, please, I don't feel good—"

She clicks her tongue at you and shakes her head, "No, you can't say no. I'll be waiting for you to come home whether you like it or not," she insists.

Maybe it's coming from the fact that she comes from a privileged family, Kim can be quite adamant about certain things, especially when she wants something, in one way or another, she has to get it.

The whole time at work, you're debating whether to make an excuse to avoid attending dinner or just gladly accept Kim's kind gesture and come to the dinner, the latter is what a good friend would do, right?

On the way home, you purposely missed the trains a couple of times before finally getting in. You're dreading it because Minho is cooking dinner and that means he'll be there for it, and this is worse than doing things behind Kim's back because you have to act innocent in front of her.

At the door of the apartment, you take a few deep breaths with your hand holding the doorknob. You console yourself with the thought that you'll only have to endure it for one more night and all this will disappear tomorrow.

"I'm home," you announce your arrival and try your best to sound cheerful as you make your way inside.

As expected, Kim is sitting at the dining table with Minho and it seems like they started without you as you see the glasses of wine.

"Oh, there you are!" Kim claps her hands together in delight.

"I'm sorry. The train was delayed for almost an hour," you make up an excuse for your tardiness while putting down your bag on the kitchen counter and head to the kitchen sink to wash your hands.

"I hope you don't mind that we almost finished the first bottle without you," Kim says.

"I don't mind at all," you say as you dry your hand with a napkin.

As you take a seat at the dining table, Minho gets up his seat and heads to the kitchen. You can't tell if that's intentional or not, but you remind yourself to not give an ounce of care to whatever he's doing.

"Minho only needs to reheat the sauce and dinner will be ready," Kim says as she fills your glass with red wine and the aphrodisiac smell wafting around in the room.

"Thank you," You smile in gratitude and take a small sip of it.

"So, how was work?"

"Dreadful," you shortly answer and reward yourself with another sip.

Kim cracks a laugh and something about it gives you the impression that she's rather a little intoxicated already.

"I'm sorry that I can't help you move out tomorrow," she says as she pours more wine into her glass which you deem is not a smart move.

"That's more than fine," you respond, "I heard from Gaspard you guys have started practicing for the winter show."

"Oh, yeah..." she softly says and then gets lost in her words for a second.

"We're doing The Nutcracker, again," she says with a dramatic pause.

"That sounds fun!" You nicely respond.

"You should come on the opening day, I'll send the ticket," she enthusiastically says and sips her wine.

"Only if you come to my little housewarming party," you meekly say even though you're not sure you know how to throw a party of any kind.

"That's a deal!" She says, clinking her glass of wine with you to seal the deal.

The mouthwatering smell has taken over the room as Minho serves the food on the table, he's cooking pasta and a big steak to share which he has sliced, showing off the perfect level of cooking doneness.

"This is delicious, honey," Kim praises after taking a bite of it, she then turns to look at you, "What do you think?"

"This is really good," you compliment because, despite everything, you can't deny that he's a good cook which also reminds you to thank him for it.

"Thank you for cooking dinner, Minho," you say even though his name feels dry and strange on your tongue.

He only nods and doesn't say anything but put more food on Kim's plate, and you can't lie that you feel a little dejected by his lack of reaction.

The dinner would be a big awkward moment if Kim wasn't leading ninety percent of the conversation on the table but as the night goes on and more wine dawned in, Kim starts to slur her words and mindlessly rambles about random things all at once. It gets to the point that she accidentally knocks things off, first it was her glass of wine and then, a pitcher of water that is now flooding the dining table.

"Kim, I think it's time for bed," you kindly say.

She brushes her hair away and sniffles, "But it's your last night here."

"We'll still be seeing each other tomorrow," you console her.

She cracks a smile and then snorts, "That's right."

Minho is quick to offer himself to carry her to bed but before she comes into his arms, Kim crashes herself into you and hugs you so tightly.

"You're the best roommate I've ever had," she mumbles with her head buried in your neck.

You put your arms around her to return her hug and gently pat her back, "That's so sweet of you, Kim."

"And I'm not saying that because you're the only roommate I've ever had, I genuinely love having you here," she says, pausing to inhale air.

"it's going to be so weird coming home and you're not here," she adds with a sniffle.

You can't bring yourself to check whether she's crying or not because if she does, there's a big chance you'll cry too. Instead, you look at Minho to let him know this is why you can't hurt her anymore.

All of a sudden, Kim breaks away from the hug and runs to Minho, she lets him take her to the bedroom. You watch as they get inside and close the door behind them.

After cleaning up the dining table and doing the dishes, you can finally go to your bedroom, being with yourself for the first time after a long, eventful day.

The room is bare since you have packed everything into boxes and you're standing there wondering how your life fits in those boxes. It gets you all sentimental as you feel like you're going on a new path in life.

The moment gets interrupted as you notice through the reflection in the mirror that Minho is coming into your room. Before you can stop him, he barges in and crashes his body against yours, lips instantly locked with yours as if they're two opposites of the magnet.

"Minho..." you sadly whine against his lips.

When you look into his eyes though, you just can't find it in you to resist him anymore so you give in and let tonight be another mistake.

Just one more mistake, you tell yourself.

-

Minho likes it when you're saying one thing but your body does the opposite. He's holding you close from behind and his hand is down south, fingers playing with your clit before he pushes one digit inside you, making you shut your legs together in reaction.

"We can't do this," you mutter against his lips.

He's expecting you to say that at one point but not this early in the night and not when he's just started. He presses his mouth into your ear and whispers, "Fight back harder if you don't want this."

There are so many ways for you to tell him off, you can break away from his hold, you can push him away and close the door right on his face but you do want this, he can see in the mirror how you liked being touched all over and how you like two fingers instead of one inside you.

"Oh..." you shakily moan as he enters two digits into you now.

Minho can feel it blooming under his touch and how wet you are for him, how your body wants more of him despite all of your efforts to stop him.

And you know what? He wants you just as much if not more.

He starts undressing you, taking every piece of clothing off of you as eager as a child unwrapping his Christmas present, and then gently, he lays you down on the end of the bed.

You look up at him with your eyes wide and flickering with desire, "Let's stop here, I let you—"

There you go with your empty warning again, he shuts you off with a kiss, "There's no way I can hold back," he says to you.

Impatient, he rips open his shirt and tosses it aside before kneeling at the end of the bed to indulge in your pool of arousal. Your moans begin to fill the room and in the mirror, he can see you try to muffle it by covering your mouth with your hand.

Minho can't get over how wet you are for him and he wants to keep it that way as he has lots of things he wants to do to you.

He gets up from the floor and quickly gets rid of his jeans next, then wastes no time to walk up to you. He takes your legs by the ankles, lifting them and holding them close to his chest, and then slowly, he parts them open.

Oh, the sight of your wet flushed cunt will never cease to arouse him. His head gets dizzy just from looking at it and it starts spinning as you put your hand around his cock.

"Fuck!" He curses under his breath as you bring his cock and rub it between your folds, making him more impatient to be inside you.

His patience wears thin and he puts his focus on aligning it with your entrance.

"Minho, I told you we can't— oh..." you loudly moan as you feel his cock penetrates you and stop talking as he pushes the rest in a painstakingly slow motion to make sure you feel every inch of his length stretching you.

"Doesn't this feel way too good?" He says as he deeply stares into your eyes.

He doesn't need to hear you say it, he knows because you feel too good around him too. He is steadily holding your legs on each side of his waist as he starts thrusting into you.

Minho can't decide whether he should watch his cock slipping in and out of you or watch how much you're enjoying it, quietly moaning while tugging your fingers between your teeth.

One thing he knows what to do is to make this last as long as possible, he stops when he knows you're closing in on your high.

"Oh," you sigh as he pulls out of you and swiftly, turns you over on the bed.

Now, he has you lying on your stomach and he grips your waist, raising it a little higher to give him just the right angle to enter you from behind.

You whine as you feel him full again and he's lowering himself on top of you, he's propping his elbow against the mattress to not put his whole weight on you.

Minho puts his hand around your neck and slightly tilts your head to the back to land a kiss on your lips. He can feel the blood rushing in your veins with his hand wrapped around your neck.

"Minho, let's stop this already," you whine.

Despite his cock buried deep inside you, you still find it in you to try to stop him. He kisses you hard and deep as if he's trying to strip all of your senses away.

"Shut up!" He tells you, "You don't even want to stop."

From the way you close your mouth is enough to tell him that you have no response to that but he knows now that he needs to fuck all these worries out of you.

Minho does all of that, he's fucking you with all his might, he watches how your face contorted in pleasure, how your hands are crumpling the sheet under you as he picks up the pace.

"Minho..." you breathlessly call.

Before you can say anything to stop him again, he grabs your chin and makes you see your reflection in the mirror, "Look at that!"

He waits until you open your eyes and see yourself in the mirror as he asks you, "Does it look like you want me to stop?"

Fucking you good isn't enough, he needs to fuck you hard enough that you forget everything else except for this moment where only you and him exist in this sinful tryst.

"If you keep going, I'm going to come," you whine between your moans.

Minho takes that as a sign that he's heading the right way but rather than adding speed to his thrusts, he slows down his pace and allows himself to melt onto you, putting his body on yours, placing kisses all over your shoulder and neck until his lips find their way back to yours.

There's no way he's finishing this without seeing your face when it's everything he wanted the most from it, seeing how fucked out you are that you can't find words to say.

After turning you over on the bed, he takes a moment to let his eyes lust over your body and then he runs his hand all over you, feeling your soft skin under his fingertips. He's using his mouth next to suck on your breasts and his tongue to play with your nipples.

All these times, he's been good by not doing it but the urge to mark you is getting unbearable so he does it, sucking on your ample flesh hard enough that he knows it's going to leave a mark.

"Ow..." you yelp in pain but it comes out as a mewl as you try to keep your noises on the low.

Minho settles himself between your legs, burying his head once again in your wetness to prepare you for what comes next. You're whining and moaning, sometimes, it's a mix of both and it's resounding in the room.

He starts to believe that you forgot about his girlfriend sleeping in the bedroom across the room, he puts it to the test by sucking on your clit which earned a loud moan for you. He's right, you forgot about it until a while later, and you hurriedly cover your mouth with the back of your hand.

He gets impatient all over again when it comes to entering you, he can only hold himself back so much and his self-control is wearing thin. He's lowly groaning as he pushes himself back into you, feeling your tight walls welcoming him.

"How are you feel so good every damn time, mmh?" He asks in disbelief with a rough kiss on your lips.

The sex feels so much better than the previous and if he could, he is just wanting to keep doing it with you because it doesn't feel like with other people, including his girlfriend of almost three years.

He watches as your eyes fluttering open and shut, and breathless moans spilling out of your parted mouth, overwhelmed by what he's doing to you.

"Look at you! Making lewd moans for me," he mutters with an intense gaze directed toward you.

He brushes your hair away from your face and kisses your open mouth, "Aren't you supposed to hate me?"

You lick your lips and look at him through your half-shut eyes, "I hate— oh..."

He launches his cock deeper inside you, not letting you finish your sentence, and keeps the intensity of his thrusts to distract you.

"I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!" You manage to repeatedly say and Minho roughly thrusts into you every time you say it.

"That doesn't sound convincing," he mockingly says, pretending like it doesn't affect him when in fact, it does.

"I hate you and I hate your guts," you say with your body shaking from how hard he's fucking you and your breasts jiggling along to it.

The hate somehow encourages him to keep going, he's letting go of himself and letting his body take care of the rest. He doesn't need to worry about you, he knows you are on the brink of—

"Oh, my—" You let out a broken moan as you reach your climax

Minho keeps moving to chase his high, his nails digging into the flesh on your thighs as he's going impossibly fast, ramming himself into you until he too, finally reaches his high.

Even though he's high in unadulterated pleasure and his brain is foggy because of it, he knows his way to your kiss, he slowly puts himself on top of you and softly places his lips on yours. There's something intimate about this, it feels pure and raw, it's just you and him locked in a chaste kiss.

However, when you break from the kiss, you look at him and say for the umpteenth time, "I hate you, Minho."

Isn't it tiring to lie? Isn't it tiring to keep hiding? But sure, you can say things that go against what you're feeling and betray your own heart as much as you want but Minho isn't one to do that kind of thing.

He holds the side of your face and fiercely looks back into your eyes as he calmly says, "That's too bad because I like you."

-

That makes it the third statement: Minho likes you.

If the other two are the truth then that makes this a lie, right? But, oh well, why bother figuring it out when you've already moved on from that part of life?

It takes a month to adjust to your new apartment and discover some places around your neighborhood like a regular cafe to visit when you need your caffeine fix and a bakery that sells this delicious bagel when you need a breakfast to-go.

There's no denying that you miss Kim from time to time and it feels a little lonely when you come home from work, and that's why you're excited for tonight, you're having the housewarming party that has been postponed twice because Kim got tied with her practice schedule.

Swear to God! You're just excited to meet her again and not at the possibility that you'll meet her boyfriend again.

Since you doubt your skill in cooking, you decide to order some food from Gaspard's recommendations and he also comes early to help set the table.

"You're chipper than usual," he comments as he cleans the table with a cloth.

"Am I? I feel exceptionally normal," you playfully respond.

When the doorbell rings, your heart palpation and you can't even bring yourself to peek through the peephole, you take a deep breath and turn the knob.

"Hi, my darling!" Kim gasps the second you open the door for her and you both exchange a quick, warm hug.

"Oh, I hope you don't mind me bringing a plus one," she adds, opening the door wider to let someone else in.

The excitement fills you to the brim that you feel like you're about to combust but it deflates in a second when you see that she's bringing someone else.

"You remember Astrid?" Kim asks.

You hide your disappointment and put on a smile, "I believe we met at the party," you vaguely remember her from her dirty blonde hair and Kim's fellow dancer.

"Yes, exactly that Astrid," she says as she shakes your hand.

"Please, come in!" You politely say, making a way for your guests to come inside your small apartment.

Gaspard appears to welcome Kim and gives her a quick hug, as if he heard your thoughts, he asks, "I thought you'd be with Minho."

"His car broke down again," Kim sighs as she takes off her coat, "I already told him so many times to buy a new one instead of sending his car to the shop."

This is so infuriating. No matter how much you convince yourself that you don't care about Minho, reality slaps you with the truth. You've been under the illusion that this distance will help you diminish this feeling but you do care, you care a lot.

The party went well or that's what you guessed, you were out of it most of the time, your body was here but your mind was going all over the place.

"You're so quiet," Gaspard comments again as he helps you clean up after Kim and Astrid leave.

"I'm just... sad," you honestly admit but decide to lie about the details, "Soon you'll be leaving too and I'm alone again."

Gaspard slyly smiles at you and leans the side of his body against the wall, "I mean, I can stay with you," he offers.

You scoff and put the dirty glasses into the sink, "Well, then you won't be missing me tomorrow," you say with a pout.

He sighs as he takes your subtle rejection with an open heart, "Are we still on for Sunday brunch?"

"Why? Do you need to cancel?" You jokingly say.

He bumps his shoulder with you as he joins in the kitchen sink to help you with the dishes, "Your treat!"

"Sure. My treat!" You agree with a bump into his shoulder.

A little after eleven, Gaspard left the apartment too with a long hug and a kiss on your cheek. You're going back inside to tidy up a few things while draining the wine from the leftover dinner, chugging it straight from the bottle.

It feels rewarding that you finish the wine by the time you're done cleaning the kitchen and now, you're tired enough to not think of anything else and ready for bed.

As you're about to change out of your dress, you hear the doorbell rings and your first thought is it's Gaspard, because he's done it before and he's shooting his shot for the umpteenth time. You're holding yourself back from laughing and head to the door to open it, unlocking it without checking it through the peephole first.

"What? Do you miss me already?" You jokingly say as you pull open the door.

"Yes," Minho answers without a beat as he's standing in front of you, making your heart race inside your chest and waking the kaleidoscope of butterflies as they start to flutter around in your stomach.

The first thing that comes to your head is what he said to you that night. Minho likes you and you still can't determine this one statement, well, it seems like you need to play another round to know if it's a lie or a truth.

-

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[p0orbaby]

Meet Cute

summary: it was always meant to be

warnings: just fluff for this one

a/n: probably my favourite pairing of mine to write

word count: 1.4k

-

Leah Williamson is not your type. This, you decide the moment you spot her from across the ballroom, swiping a glass of champagne off a passing waiter’s tray.

You’re aware she’s famous, which is typically a red flag for you. Infamous in your world, where all the proper names are whispered behind manicured hands and anything resembling normalcy is held with the same disdain as a counterfeit handbag. Leah Williamson is an athlete, which in your circles is roughly akin to being an overpaid circus act.

But what really gives you pause is her haircut.

Short, blonde, not-quite-pixie. She looks like she’s wandered in here by mistake, a traveler who’s taken the wrong exit on the motorway and ended up in a place where the speed limit is fifty miles under what she’s used to. You half-expect her to pull out a map and ask someone the quickest way back to civilisation. Instead, she tips her head back and downs the champagne like it’s water, wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, and you’re immediately in love.

Of course, you won’t admit this, even under threat of being forced to wear last season’s Chanel. Love, in your world, is about as fashionable as pleather.

Your grandmother, God rest her weary soul, once said, “You’ll know it’s love when you’re willing to risk wearing nude tights for them.” Nude tights, in her book, being one of the greatest crimes against humanity. You’re not sure you’re there yet, but the idea doesn’t fill you with as much dread as it would have this morning.

But you digress. You’re here at this godforsaken gala because your father insists on parading you like a prize cow before other old-money families, hoping you’ll marry someone with a suitable lineage. You’re twenty-six and your father has begun to suspect you might have, as he put it, “alternative preferences.” This is his way of reminding you that lineage is everything, and falling for someone without a trust fund is tantamount to treason.

So here you are, in a dress that costs more than most people’s cars, standing next to the dessert table and pretending the caviar blinis don’t taste like expensive regret. Across the room, Leah is now juggling her champagne glass and a miniature beef Wellington, and she seems to be losing.

You decide to rescue her. Or rather, you decide to rescue yourself from having to listen to Lord Farnsworth’s lecture on the importance of preserving the family crest for the fifteenth time this evening.

“Having fun?” you ask when you reach her, which is a stupid question because of course she isn’t. Nobody is having fun here.

She turns to you, and for a moment, you’re convinced she’s going to hand you her beef Wellington like you’re the help. Instead, she gives you a smile so dry you could use it to exfoliate.

“Are you?” she asks, and her voice is lower than you expected, with that clipped accent that tells you she’s from somewhere north of where people have indoor pools.

You shrug, because you don’t really know how to answer that without resorting to a level of honesty that would make your therapist proud but your mother faint.

“I’ve had root canals that were more enjoyable,” you say, and she laughs, a short bark of a sound that seems to surprise even her.

“Fair,” she says, and you feel like you’ve passed some sort of test.

“So what brings you to the seventh circle of hell?” you ask, watching as she abandons her beef Wellington on a passing waiter’s tray like she’s releasing a burden into the wild.

“I was invited,” she says, as though that explains everything, and maybe it does. Maybe she’s been told, like you have, that there are some invitations you just don’t turn down. Even if they come with the risk of being cornered by Lord Farnsworth and his endless tirade about how the current generation is ruining the art of fox hunting.

“Ah,” you say, because you understand that language. “That explains the face”

“What face?”

“The one you’ve been making all night,” you say, trying to demonstrate by contorting your own face into what you hope is an accurate imitation.

She grins again, and it occurs to you that Leah Williamson might be one of those rare people who looks more attractive when they’re amused. Most people, in your experience, become grotesque when they’re laughing, all exposed gums and teeth that are never as straight as they should be. But her face lights up in a way that suggests she doesn’t find the world half as disappointing as you do.

“And what face have you been making?” she asks, leaning in a little closer, and you catch a whiff of her perfume—something that’s probably advertised with shots of people running through fields of lavender, but on her, it smells like trouble.

You gesture vaguely. “It’s somewhere between ‘bored out of my skull’ and ‘I can’t believe I’m not getting paid for this’”

“I’ll have to try that one,” she says, glancing over at Lord Farnsworth, who seems to have set his sights on you again, the poor man. “But I’ll need some pointers”

“First, you need to perfect the art of the disinterested nod,” you say, demonstrating. “Like you’re listening, but you’ve also just remembered you left the oven on”

She mimics you, and it’s terrible, but you applaud her effort anyway.

“Close enough,” you say. “Next, you have to practice the well-timed yawn. Not too obvious, but just enough to suggest you’ve heard all this before”

She pretends to yawn, and it’s so exaggerated that a few people around you turn to look.

“Subtlety is key,” you remind her.

“I’ll work on it,” she says, her grin widening as though she’s actually enjoying herself now, which is against all logic.

“And finally,” you say, feeling suddenly bold, “you have to perfect the getaway”

“The getaway?”

“Yeah,” you say, glancing at Lord Farnsworth, who is now being temporarily distracted by some poor woman in pearls. “Like this”

You grab her by the arm and start walking, weaving your way through the crowd with the precision of someone who has been doing this their whole life. She doesn’t resist, though she does give you a curious look as you lead her past your father, who is deep in conversation with someone equally dull.

You find yourself in the courtyard, where the air is cooler and the moon is doing its best impression of a romantic comedy backdrop. Leah stops and looks up at the sky, as though she’s surprised to find it there.

“Nice,” she says, and you can’t tell if she’s talking about the view or the escape route.

“Much better than listening to Lord Farnsworth,” you say, and she turns to you with that smile again, the one that’s starting to feel dangerously like an invitation.

“So,” she says, as if continuing a conversation you didn’t know you were having, “what’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?”

The question is so cliché it should make you cringe, but it doesn’t. Instead, it feels like the most natural thing in the world, and you find yourself saying, “I’m here because I lost a bet with Satan”

She chuckles, a low rumble in her chest that makes you feel like you’ve won something. “And what did you bet on?”

“That I could get through this evening without wanting to jump into traffic,” you say, and she laughs again, this time a little louder.

“I think you lost that bet the moment you saw the guest list,” she says, and you nod in agreement.

“So what about you?” you ask, genuinely curious now. “Why are you here?”

“Because I was invited,” she repeats, but this time, there’s something else in her tone, something that makes you think she’s not just talking about the gala.

You want to ask her what she means, but you don’t. Instead, you reach out and take her hand, surprising both of you.

“Let’s make another bet,” you say, feeling a strange kind of thrill, like you’re standing on the edge of something.

“What kind of bet?” she asks, her eyes narrowing slightly, but there’s a glint in them that makes you think she’s game.

“That we can get through the rest of this evening without wanting to jump into traffic,” you say, squeezing her hand just a little.

She considers this for a moment, then grins. “You’re on”

And just like that, the evening shifts. The gala, the people, the expectations—they all fade into the background as you and Leah step into something that feels suspiciously like possibility.

You don’t know where this is going, but for the first time in a long time, you’re excited to find out. And maybe, just maybe, you’re willing to risk wearing nude tights for her. But only if you lose the bet.

[waight-gain]

The Chef and the Critic

Chapter 6: Public Scrutiny and Private Triumphs

The headlines were unavoidable, splashed across every culinary tabloid and food blog Jacob encountered. "Wellington's Transformation: From Fit to Fat" declared one. "The Fat Critic: Jacob Wellington's Shocking Weight Gain" blared another. Jacob winced as he scrolled through the articles, taking in the photos of him at the competition, his suit straining against his new figure.

He had expected the attention, the public recognition of his transformation. But seeing it all laid out in print, for everyone to see, was a shock. He felt a pang of self-consciousness, a twinge of embarrassment at the way he had flaunted his new body, the way he had reveled in the stares and whispers.

Alex found him hunched over his laptop, the screen filled with articles and photos. He sat down next to Jacob, putting an arm around his shoulders. "Hey, hey," he said softly. "Don't let them get to you. You know you look amazing, and I love every inch of you."

Jacob leaned into Alex's touch, appreciating the comfort and warmth. "I know, I know," he sighed. "It's just... seeing it all like this, it's different. I didn't think it would be big news and spread like this."

Alex nodded understandingly. "I get it. But you know what? You're going to love this."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a sleek, black invitation, handing it to Jacob. "What's this?" Jacob asked, his curiosity piqued.

"I've been invited to a prestigious culinary event," Alex said, his eyes shining with excitement. "It's a gathering of the world's top chefs, and I've been asked to present my latest culinary innovations."

Jacob's eyes widened in surprise and pride. "Alex, that's incredible!" he exclaimed. "You deserve it, you're so talented."

Alex grinned, his cheeks flushing at the compliment. "Thanks, babe. And I want you by my side. This is a big deal, and I want you to experience it with me."

Jacob hesitated, looking down at the invitation and then back up at Alex. "I don't know, Alex. All these people, they'll all be talking about me, about how I look..."

"They'll be talking about you, sure," Alex said, his voice firm. "But they'll also be talking about how amazing you are, how beautiful you are, inside and out. And you deserve to be celebrated, just as much as I do."

Jacob took a deep breath, considering Alex's words. He knew his boyfriend was right, that he should be proud of who he was, of the transformation he had undergone. And he was proud, he just needed a little push to help him face the world with the same confidence he felt when he was with Alex.

"Okay," he said finally, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Let's do this."

The event was a whirlwind of activity, with chefs, critics, and industry professionals from all over the world in attendance. Jacob felt the eyes on him as he and Alex made their entrance, but he held his head high, his shoulders back, proud to be by Alex's side.

He could hear the whispers, the murmurs of surprise and admiration as they passed. He saw the way people looked at him, taking in his new figure, his round belly, his soft, rounded body. And he reveled in it, in the way they saw him, in the way they appreciated him.

Alex was a sensation, his creativity and innovation lauded by everyone they spoke to. Jacob knew that he would be a sensation, he just needed a push. They had helped each other grow. He was proud of that, proud of the way they had grown together.

As the night went on, Jacob found himself drawn into conversations with some of the most influential people in the culinary world. They carefully asked him about his weight gain, about his relationship with Alex, and he answered honestly, openly, sharing his story with pride and passion.

And as the night reached its crescendo, as Alex took to the stage to present his latest culinary innovations, Jacob knew that this was just the beginning. They had a long road ahead, filled with challenges and triumphs, but they would face them together, hand in hand, just as they always had.

As they left the event, arm in arm, Jacob leaned into Alex, his heart swelling with love and pride. "I'm so happy for you, Alex," he whispered. "And I'm so proud to be by your side."

Alex smiled down at him, his eyes shining with love. "And I'm so proud of you, Jacob," he said. "You're the most incredible person I know, and I love you more than anything."

The following week, they decided to throw a small gathering at La Cuisine, the very place where they had first met. The perfect location for celebrating their shared triumphs and the love that had grown between them.

Alex invited their closest friends, chefs and industry professionals who had supported and encouraged them along the way. The restaurant was filled with laughter, clinking glasses, and the delicious aroma of the dishes they had prepared themselves.

Jacob was in his element, his eyes sparkling as he moved around the room, catching up with old friends and making new connections. He felt at ease in his own skin, comfortable in the way his body now filled out his clothes, in the way he took up space in the room.

As the night wore on, the guests began to filter out, leaving just Alex and Jacob behind. The two of them looked at each other, a soft smile playing at the corners of their mouths. They knew what was coming next.

Alex reached into his pocket, pulling out a small, velvet box. He knelt down in front of Jacob, his eyes never leaving his lover's face. "Jacob," he began, his voice steady and sure. "From the moment I first saw you, I knew you were special. You've challenged me, inspired me, and loved me in a way I never thought possible. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, by my side, as my partner, my lover, my best friend. Will you marry me?"

Jacob's eyes welled up with tears, his heart swelling with love and surprise. "Yes," he whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion. "A thousand times, yes."

As they kissed, sealing their promise, Alex pulled back, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "Now," he said, "for the main event."

He stood up, grabbing a large, empty platter from the table behind him. He began to fill it with the remaining food from the party, piling it high with dishes of creamy pasta, rich sauces, and decadent desserts.

Jacob laughed, his eyes wide with surprise. "Alex, what are you doing?"

"Indulging," Alex said, his voice low and sultry. "I want to see you at your largest. I want to fill you up, to watch you grow and grow, until you're completely stuffed. I want to see you at your most... and the smallest you'll be from this night forward."

Jacob's breath hitched, his desire igniting at Alex's words. He knew that this was a part of their dynamic, a part of their love and intimacy. He nodded, his eyes never leaving Alex's. "I trust you," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Alex smiled, his eyes softening with love. "I know you do, and I promise, I'll take care of you."

He began to feed Jacob, spoonful after spoonful of rich, decadent food. Jacob ate, and ate, and ate, his belly growing rounder and fuller with each bite. He could feel the his skin stretching taut as his stomach filled with plate after plate.

Alex watched him, his eyes filled with appreciation and desire. He loved the way Jacob's body responded to the food, the way he savored each bite and moaned under Alex's touch.

Finally, when Jacob couldn't eat another bite, Alex set down the platter, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "There," he said, his voice soft. "You're perfect."

Jacob looked down at his round, bloated belly, a soft laugh escaping his lips. "I feel like a sumo wrestler," he said, his voice muffled by the fullness of his mouth.

Alex chuckled, leaning in to press a soft kiss to Jacob's lips. "You're my sumo wrestler," he whispered. "And I love every inch of you."

[natsukishinomiyaswife]

⋆ 𝓡𝓲𝓭𝓭𝓵𝓮 𝓡𝓸𝓼𝓮𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓽𝓼: 𝓓𝓸𝓶𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓬 𝓑𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓼 ⋆

Please note: This is a repost from my old blog, @sugarcookiesheep!

This was the first story I ever posted on my old blog, and my first series too! It was a series that featured most of the Twisted Wonderland cast as fathers, and what their child/children are like! (With the Reader being referred to as mom!)

I had only completed Riddle and Cater's parts (while posting sneak peaks of others), and I may come back to it someday! Until then, enjoy! ♡

⋆ As a father I believe that Riddle would be strict but fair. He would be patient with his children and control his temper but wouldn’t be afraid to put his foot down. He’d be the type of parent to implement chore wheels and good behavior charts and use parental controls on electronics to make sure his kids keep up with their studies. If they were doing particularly bad in a certain subject or struggled with something, Riddle would be more than happy to tutor them. He would make worksheets to help them practice and would take extra care helping them with homework or assignments, and make sure to go over exactly what they’re struggling with until they understood. If his child’s school had a PTA (Parent Teacher Association) he would be a part of it for sure.

⋆ Riddle’s eldest son would be a little troublemaker, not really following any of the rules Riddle makes. Instead, he would question Riddle’s rules and create his own, making a game out of it. Riddle once tried to follow his son’s rules (in the hopes that it would teach him some obedience), but his son just gave him a look of confusion before stating that the rules had changed, and that Riddle was now breaking the rules by following the old ones. Let’s just say this game is Riddle’s least favorite lol

⋆ While he’s good for his mom, he enjoys riling his father up and always acts innocent afterwards in the hopes of getting away with it (You never really seem to buy it though)

⋆ He has a big sweet tooth (just like his father), constantly trying to sneak cookies or tarts or cakes out of the kitchen. Half the time he doesn’t even try to sneak it, just grabs whatever he’s after and makes a run for it. You’ll be doing some cleaning, trying to tidy up the house, when suddenly here comes your toddler running with fistfuls of cookies while your husband chases after him. Even when you lock the desserts up he still somehow manages to get them, much to Riddle’s dismay.

⋆ In place of gold stars you decided to get scented stickers shaped like desserts for the good behavior chart, as that seemed to encourage your eldest son to behave more

⋆ Whenever he has a nightmare, he always goes to his dad. You’ve walked into the kitchen more than once in the early morning and found Riddle and your son fast asleep at the table, half empty mugs of milk and cookie crumbs around them. It’s a sight that always fills you with warmth.

⋆ When he gets to be a little bit older (around 5 or 6) You and Riddle cave and get him the pet hedgehog he’d been wanting (Riddle hoping it teaches him some responsibility) He is very responsible when it comes to his pet and takes excellent care of him. He considers the hedgehog to be his best friend (and partner in crime), taking him wherever he goes. (The hedgehog’s name is Beef Hedgington, and he’s named after Beef Wellington)

⋆ The boys are around 5-6 years apart age wise, so your eldest son got his pet hedgehog Beef before his little brother was born.

⋆ There are plenty of times where you or Riddle would enter the baby’s room and find that your eldest left his pet in his brother’s crib. When you ask him, he’d simply say that Beef is there to watch over him and protect him if need be. It makes for some cute photos in the family album!

⋆ Riddle’s younger son is quite the contrast to his brother, a shy boy that tries his best to follow the rules and doesn’t want to stand out. He’s content watching quietly in the background as his older brother gets up to his latest shenanigans, though on occasion he can be convinced to join him.

⋆ He prefers to play alone or with his brother, usually keeping to himself while your eldest is running around with the other kids at the park. He gets a bit anxious in social situations, especially when he’s unfamiliar with the person. But if another kid did approach him and wanted to play with him he would hesitate for a second before nodding his head yes, gesturing towards the toys he was playing with. It always makes you and Riddle so happy whenever he makes a new friend at school, his body language giving away how excited he is.

⋆ Much like your husband and eldest son (and you), your younger son also has a big sweet tooth. Unlike your eldest though, he doesn’t try to sneak or take any desserts. Instead he would follow you around as you’re baking, or gaze longingly at whatever sweet he wanted. You would pick up on this and give him one as a treat, or let him lick the spoon while you’re baking (after making him promise not to tell his brother)

⋆ Riddle started a tradition where when it’s someone’s birthday in the family, you would all go to Trey’s bakery and get them their own special cake/dessert. The kid’s always get so excited whenever they get to go see their “Uncle Trey”, especially when it’s one of their birthdays. They always have fun choosing a different cake flavor or dessert every year, watching Trey make and decorate it before serving it to them. You have a special photo album specifically for these occasions, making sure to always include Trey and his family in the pictures.

⋆ One of your favorites in the album is a photo from Riddle’s birthday, his face and shirt a mess of frosting as your two boys had both wanted to feed their father his cake. Trey is in the background laughing while your off to the side trying to wipe some frosting off Riddle’s face, your two boys smiling towards the camera with frosting smudged around their mouths. It’s a photo you love so much you end up framing it and hanging it near the front door so that it’s the last thing Riddle sees when he leaves to go to work. A beautiful reminder of his wonderful and loving family ♡

Originally posted: November 25th, 2023

𝓣𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓴 𝔂𝓸𝓾! ♡

[some-dull-scissors]

💰

Sack of dollars for your morpherine thoughts?

I mean like I got a lot. Whaddya want? Headcanons? I’ll give you headcanons

•at the start of their relationship Logan INSISTS on being the big spoon but later on he learns that he likes either and they switch

•Logan fell first

•Morph often forgets to eat due to the period of time where they weren’t allowed to so they only notice when they’re EXTREMELY hungry and so Logan makes sure they eat at least two meals a day if he can

•Logan plays with Morph’s hand like it’s putty when he’s overstimulated or bored. Morph just lets him because they love the physical contact

•they both hate physical contact unless it’s with each other

•On the rare occasion when Morph doesn’t have anything to say, Logan makes sure to keep the conversation running because he knows where their mind wanders to

•OOOH THIS ONES MY FAVORITE Logan always stands or sits to Morph’s left so that he can be on the side of their face where the mind control device was. He doesn’t know what he’d do in an event where something like that would go wrong, but it makes him feel better to keep an eye on that. Morph has picked up on him always being to their left, but doesn’t know why

•Logan has never asked Morph to change into anyone else unless it’s for fighting/training reasons

•Morph plays with Logan’s body hair

•Logan purrs but only Morph knows it

•They are extremely defensive of each other especially in situations where medical devices are involved

•they share a favorite type of beer, but Logan likes whisky and Morph likes tequila

•Morph loves Romcoms and Logan secretly does too, but always complains when one is on

•They know each other’s food order from the bars and restaurants they frequent

•Logan can grill, Morph can bake. They make a mean beef Wellington

•they both sleep in LATE

•(this one comes from my parents own relationship) Logan always sleeps closer to the door just in case there’s an intruder

•Morph steals Logan’s clothes

•When Morph was missing, Logan would often sleep in their room

•Logan insists on paying for everything

•Logan got Morph their new jacket after the last one was ruined

Uhhhh I’m done for now come back tomorrow with more money and perhaps I will have more

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Sun's Out, Guns Out

Anselm Vogelweide x F!Reader • Rating: PG Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • ko-fi •

Summary: Anselm's purposefully got the wrong idea.

A/N: I simply must give a massive shout out to @reallyrallyauthor and their stunning Anselm fics which haunt me every day and night. They have rewired my brain.

Warnings: Anselm being a little shit, fluff, so many pet names oh my god, swearing, reader is wearing a swimsuit, kisses, typos, my terrible German, please let me know if I've missed a warning!

Word Count: 771

“Anselm,” His name comes out a little exasperatedly, which isn’t your intention. “This…” You gesture to him, “This is not what I meant.” 

He quirks his eyebrow up at you, “How so meine Süße?” My sweet.

You give him a look and he smiles, he knows exactly what he’s doing. 

You cross your arms, shifting your weight to your left leg. “You can’t wear this on the beach.”

He looks down at himself for a moment, as if he is seeing his body for the first time before he meets your eyes. Not that you can tell through his dark circle sunglasses. 

“I’m afraid you’re misinformed, meine Hase, weil ich das trage.” My bunny, because I am wearing this.

“Anselm.” You say, unimpressed and his grin widens- the living personification of the Cheshire cat. 

“My love, I don’t see the problem.” He says lightly, practically turning the words into poetry with the rhythm of his voice. 

“Sun’s out, guns out. Means your arms, and,” you raise your hand at the eager look in his eyes, cutting him short, “Arms, as in these,” you poke his biceps, “not weapons arms, not guns.”

“But my dear,” he takes hold of your hand, peppering kisses to your knuckles, “My arms are out.” 

You glare. “You’re a little shit, you know that?” 

“And you love me for it.” He gives you that soft expression that makes you weak at the knees. 

“I don’t think I do.”

“You wound me, my dove.” He kisses your wrist, keeping his eyes trained on yours. 

You shake your head, trying to keep a stern look on your face. “You can’t wear those guns to the beach.” 

The guns in question where in elabourate hosters across his chest and shoulders that you were sure where originally a harness of some sort. The weapons themselves were ornate, practically antiques, and looked like some sort of flintlock pistols. The whole outfit, a pair of black speedos that were a fraction too tight and a pair of khaki green wellington boots (he did not want to get sand on his feet or in his shoes) combined with the guns was… interesting.

He grins, licking his bottom lip. “Yes, I can.” 

“It’s a beach-”

“A private one, we’re the only ones here.” 

You pull an unimpressed face and gesture a little more dramatically than you need to at his bodyguards. 

He places another kiss to your wrist, “They count as ‘the only ones’...” The guards make an obvious effort to not look anywhere near either of you, part of you feels sorry for them, in their three piece suits and cuff links in the heat, their smart dress shoes sinking into the sand.

 “Besides,” he pulls you gently, urging you closer to him. “They’re not loaded.”

“Then what are they for?” You say exasperatedly.

“Decoration, my love.”

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose with your free hand. “You’re going to go swimming with-”

He shakes his head, “I’m not going to go swimming, I am going to sit under the large umbrella Sebastian will put up and relax.” 

“Anselm.”

“My leg, my beloved,” he gives you the puppy dog eyes, rubbing his brace. 

You tut, “The salt water will do you good.”

“The metal will rust.” He pouts.

“You didn’t have to wear the metal one, and besides, I asked Angelo to bring your cane.” 

He opens his mouth to speak.

“Not that one.”

Anselm smiles and closes his mouth dramatically, but you don’t miss the little glare he gives Angelo.

“Hey, none of that. I asked Angelo and he just did as I requested.” 

“Hmm,” he steps closer, wrapping his arms around your waist, “I do love when you get all bossy Bӓrchen.” He nuzzles into your neck, pressing light kisses to your pulse point. “Makes me want to take you right here.”

“You’ll definitely get sand in places you don’t want.” 

“Oh, I just don’t want sand in my shoes, I am quite happy to feel it in more intimate places.” He nips lightly at your skin and you shiver. 

“You’re coming in the water with me.” You press, but your voice isn’t very demanding. 

“Of course, my love.” He kisses lower, trailing his lips to your collarbone. 

“And you’re taking the guns off.” 

“Of course, my love.” He kisses the top of your chest, trailing his tongue along the edge of your swimsuit. “But you’re going to be talking this off too.” He lightly dips his fingers under the material at your hip, snapping back against your skin with a smile.  

“Of course,” you say, saccharinely sweet, “my love.” 

Thank you for reading!

@pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @whatthefishh

@romanarose @strangerhands @saturn-rings-writes @lonelyisamyw-0love @queerponcho

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@novarosewood

If you'd like to be taken off the tag list please let me know here

[twopoppies]

New larries? well well Wellington welcome!

The only thing is a lot think they WERE together not are, but I also think a lot haven’t gotten far enough down the rabbit hole, kind of can’t wait until they get to “All Along” and Louis’ explanation of “Too Young” Harry singing “golden” 28 times in a row in “Golden” or how they magically seem to be MIA at the same time and so much more.

Do I fear reprisals? The antis have already started same as always and there was the non-denial denial story planted again maybe in advance of them being seen at the same place at the same time for a very sad reason. Do I think something is coming meaning another denial or possible stunt or really anything at this point, sure, but I’m enjoying seeing eyes finally opening too.

TBH, the one thing I think new larries really need to understand is that proving Larry isn’t the point. Nor do I think it’s helpful to Harry or Louis these days. Maybe I’m alone in this, but I think they’re very happy to have the support, but it’s not like the old days when they needed it because they were kids and they were being told they’d lose everything if anyone knew.

People finding clues and meaning in every single thing they do and say makes the real stuff look stupid. And that makes all of us look stupid.

It’s not a game to win where you find all the clues and then they come out! They’re people and this is their real life. Just be supportive of them and their music and if you’re supportive of their relationship, that’s awesome. But don’t yell about it with a bullhorn all over twitter or whatever.

Is it just me? Maybe I’m a curmudgeon. 🤷🏻‍♀️

[maximumkillshot]

"I Can't Lose You" Part 5

Warnings: Aftermath of a miscarriage, some fluff, descriptions of grief due to losing a baby, Crying LeeKnow, There are flashes of death. Shock, Grief, There is anger... and yes that's a warning.

Pairing: Bangchan x Reader

Characters:  Stray Kids, Reader

A/N: Ok if you read the above, you'll notice that anger is in the warnings... We are going to see a lot here. Hold on, okay? I LOVE YOU GUYS AND I AM SORRY IN ADVANCE.

ALL WORK IS UNDER ME AND MY BLOG. DO NOT TRY TO REPUBLISH OR STEAL MY WORK, AS THAT IS COPYRIGHTED UNDER ME AND IS CONSIDERED COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT WHICH IS A PUNISHABLE OFFENSE. 

ANY WORK THAT YOU SEE ON OTHER SITES THAT ARE MY WORKS PLEASE NOTIFY ME IMMEDIATELY.

Also remember, this is a fan fic. All of the boys are so sweet IRL.

Stray Kids! Masterlist

Overall Masterlist

Previously:

That half an hour never went by quicker. They stood on the phone as they waited, talking about nothing and everything at the same time. As soon as the clock hit 8:30 am all I could hear was wind… 

"We are running to you right now!" Minho said. 

I could hear the occasional shove and giggle. A few minutes later there was a stampede of sneakers on the floor and as they walked in Minho said "In 3..2..1.." then he pulled the curtain back and hung up. 

Now:

Everyone gave Minho a little room. He wouldn't admit it, but he has a soft spot for you, he always did. From the minute you came into their lives, Minho always treated you like a sister. 

He held and still holds the utmost respect for you. He trusted you so much. He would fall asleep on you during long drives, give you the keys to his place to play with the cats, he also would talk to you about any and everything. 

You still looked pale, frail, and exhausted. Your face sunken in, every move causing a slight wince. You were a shell of who you normally are. He could sense it. That is what made him want to break. Where is his bubbly, eccentric, and lively sister? Where is the sparkle in your eyes? The immediate hearty laugh that he came to know and love.

Some of his best memories with you were full of smiles and laughs. Like when you tried to learn how to cook beef Wellington and you almost burned the kitchen down and all you did was laugh and say "it's the Wellington's fault! I did what I was told to do and it decided to burn." Your smile was ear to ear and your cheeks had the cutest blush to them.

Now when he saw you, you did smirk… but not smile. It didn't reach your eyes. He could feel the hole in your heart. Fresh and still bleeding. He wanted to find where that chunk of your heart went, put it back, and stitch you back together again, even though, deep down, he knew you wouldn't get that piece back.

Minho wanted to put you back together, like what you've done for him thousands of times. He wanted to hold you and protect you, to shelter you, he wanted to take it away. All of it. As the oldest he didn't want to let it show, but he felt responsible.

How did he not see the signs? They were all right in his face. Leaving practice last minute, chuckling and giggling at his phone but refusing to show it to him, even some as blatant as he's going to meet up with a "friend". Minho still replays it in his head. Seeing Soo walk down that hallway only took the knife already in every single one of the boys' hearts and twisted it more. She was mortified when she saw the boys staring at her. Her face looked like it was already white, the blush of embarrassment was clear. He remembered everyone's faces and reactions. 

Felix looked disgusted to be in the same room as her. Seungmin was glaring at her, clear that all he wanted to do was scream at her, shame her. Han almost screamed at her as well as Hyunjin. Minho had to cover Han’s mouth while Innah covered Hyunjin’s. Minho knew that they had to listen to what was happening down the hall. They had to make sure that you were okay, that’s why it was imperative for everyone to be quiet. Minho knows it takes two people to cheat, and that fact alone made all of this even worse. How could anyone do this to their best friend? She let herself out with a small ‘I’m sorry’.

But by far the worst expression was Changbin’s. Bin’s eyes still haunt Minho. He was the first to see her walking down, as he was the most on edge in the room. Seeing Soo? That shocked his system, he slowly backed up until he hit the wall farthest from the hall, clearly not his conscious being doing it. Minho could see the fact that Bin was not completely registering he was seeing her. When it finally did hit, Minho saw Bin’s being shatter for you. Minho saw as his eyes snapped from Soo to the hallway. His feet were frozen, he was trying to move closer to the hall again, wanting to move. Minho knew why he couldn’t move, he was broken for you. How do you comfort someone that was betrayed by their spouse and their best friend? He was so shocked, he let his body slide down the wall, hands in his hair. He kept looking down the hall, hearing intently, just in case he was needed but still in a crouch.

He felt a rage building at the memory, he saw himself going back to the house and dragging him here. Watching as he sees his whole life crumble in front of him. Even that wouldn't be enough payment for what he's done. 

Then he looked into your eyes, kindness and strength were all he could find. After all of this shit how are you still kind? How are you strong? He thought to himself. If he was in your shoes he would’ve dropped everyone and everything. Yet here you were. Welcoming Minho in. Your broken pieces in your hands, heart still bleeding, your life crumbling in one night, Why are you looking at me like that? He thought. 

A look of comforting silence, the want to help, why do you always want to help? Your hands open, showing the pieces, offering them to him…Everything is gone and you still want to give? His chest was getting tight and he didn’t know it but he started shaking slightly.

 Your voice mere minutes ago playing, ‘I can’t lose you MinMin. I can’t lose my boys, m’not strong enough,’He felt his being deflate, his soul cracking. Oh… we’re all you have. You are kind, loving,giving, strong, resilient, graceful, funny, and a million other things. Why? Why did he do that to her, why I don’t understand. She didn’t do anything. She only gave, time, affection, love to everyone she meets so why? Why did he do that to her? Why did they do that to her? It makes no sense. He was subconsciously bargaining. Wishing he fell asleep in the car, or he was in some elaborate nightmare… then why isn’t the nightmare ending, he feels his heart breaking, it should be over. He’s scared, not for himself but for you. The scream was real. Bin’s reaction was real… this isn’t a nightmare I WANT TO WAKE UP!.. He already was awake. 

Minho was so in his head that he didn't realize that he was crying, he was brought back by Changbin…

"Would you like to touch her? You can, Hyung." He said gently. His touch was equally as gentle, nudging Minho to the bed. Changbin loves you, a lot. A close second is Minho. No one, not even Minho could pin the type of love it is. All he knows that if you so much as get cut he is physically restraining himself not to coddle you. Which has never happened in his life, even with his exes. That’s why Bin is taking such a soft approach to this. 

Changbin’s aware that he had no choice but to accept what has happened. He was there when it happened. He saw all of it. Minho didn’t. The most he heard was your scream. Which, given, is enough to understand the severity. Believing and understanding are two things. Believing is the heart. Understanding is the mind. Understanding why a door opens is completely different from believing the door can open. He understood you screamed but his mind didn’t believe that what happened actually happened.

You patted the open space you made for him to lay as you said "C'mere MinMin… you wanted a hug, yeah? I promise I won't break." 

You noticed that Minho looked scared. He looked like you had asked him to throw porcelain at a wall. So you said, "I know it's a shock, but I'm here… I'm going to be okay. Can I have a hug or a cuddle please?" 

He walked to you and laid down. The minute you touched his skin he started crying harder. He’s a visual person. He can imagine a move before he makes it. That same gift is why he cried harder. He knew how close it was to him visiting a corpse at a funeral home. The milisecond you touched him, he imagined himself touching you for the last time, cold, in a coffin. That sent searing pain through his heart. He had no other choice but to sob. All you did was hold him and put his head right to your chest so he could hear your heartbeat. Letting him know in your own way, that you'll be okay. That you are alive. That there's nothing for him to feel bad or responsible for. 

He has been through a lot, and because of his outward nature he isn’t seen as a super touchy feely person, but he can never explain to you how happy he was that you put his head where you did. He had confirmation that you’re alive. It was beating right by his ear. Your heart is strong, you are here. He looked to Bin; whose face looked so empathetic then, as if to say to him I understand. It’s okay. 

He held your waist so gently, you could barely feel it. It ghosted over your frame like the sadness rolling off of Minho himself. As he laid there, crying he noticed how close he was to your belly too. That added on yet another level of sadness and pain. He knew you would've made a great mom. You're caring, compassionate, and to top it all off you carry yourself with such strength and grace. He would've loved to see it. 

Han came up to Minho and rubbed his leg as he directed the rest of the members except for Bin to hang back. Bin closed the curtain a little more.

Bin told him, "She's going to get better. She's seeing another doctor today a little before lunch and then after lunch, they're doing more tests for her iron count. But she's already feeling better." 

Han said, "I know she looks really sick, but she is going to be out of the woods soon." 

You said "Just having you here makes me feel so much better," and you kissed the back of his head. 

Minho said, "I'm sorry. I should've seen it."

You looked at him and said "It was something no one would have dreamed of him doing. I saw odd occurrences but I just said 'he'd never do that' and here we are. You are not responsible for another man's actions, okay?" 

You wiped his tears as he looked up at you, "Are you okay?" He asked with the most broken look on his face.

"I am now," you smiled at him and he just stood there for a bit. Lying on your chest while you combed through his hair with your hand while he calmed down. 

After a few minutes, the curtain was opened back up and you were swarmed by hugs, kisses, and everything in between. When everything settled down you asked a question that no one expected you to.

"How is Chris doing?" You even surprised yourself with that one but you couldn't help but wonder how he was.

Minho said, "he collapsed after Bin told us the news." 

I.N. continued "Everything from ‘I want to take it back’, to ‘Please God let her get through this." It was clear that he was over even giving Chan another iota of his time and breath. He didn’t tell you or anyone else about his feelings often. That’s because I.N. can come off as unfeeling, very blunt in many ways. He knew that if he were to say what he actually wanted to, it's not only going to do no good to the situation, but it’d also cause more grief for everyone involved. He just wanted the storm to be over already, the more he looks at you, though, the more he can tell that the storm just began. 

None of the boys would tell you, but I.N. was very close to killing Chan last night, you see he was the only one in the same room as Minho when he called Changbin. Chris was pacing so much right next to Minho that after he yelled at him to shut the fuck up, he ducked into Han’s room, to talk to him, I.N went with him. He just wanted to hear you were okay. That was all he wanted. He heard your screams, and Hannies stunned silence for what felt like years, only to hear “I’ve gotta go.” Right after that happened I.N stormed out, looking for Chan to kill him, if it wasn’t for Seungmin heading him off, I.N. would probably be in prison right now.

Seungmin said "Oh you forgot about my favorite, ‘I promise I'll make it right’. Like he ever could." His face turned hard at that moment. Understanding that no one can bring that baby back, take that trauma away. As if  a baby could so easily be forgotten, to ‘make it right’. 

You didn’t know but Seungmin felt nauseous at that sentence. Knowing Chan like he does, he’d probably try to not only convince you to get back together but to try again too fast. That thought is what made bile rise in his throat as he knows that Chan is the type to try to fix things quickly before anything sets in. Just recounting those thoughts made him debate running to the bathroom to puke. 

He couldn’t understand how someone could see all of the blood on Changbin, narrowly avoiding death via Changbin’s hands, and seeing the proof that a baby once was thriving in his wife and now that is not the case. Literally because of the shock that he caused. If he knew what he did he wouldn’t have said, “I’ll make it right.” He can’t raise the dead, erase your memory, hell he can’t even keep his dick in his pants, apparently; so how pray tell would he do the impossible… He can’t. 

Hyunjin said, "To be honest, none of us care what it does to him because he was the cause of it. He did this to you. To all three of you. We left before we beat him within an inch of his life. We have been waiting in the parking lot since."

There are so many emotions in the room, from disgust, all the way to enraged. One of the people who was enraged was Hyunjin. 

Hyunjin was the type of person to be closed off. A lot of people see him as just a pretty face but he is so much more than that. He’s a fantastic vocalist, rapper, and dancer. However, he is also an amazing artist, painting and drawing being his favorite mediums. So when you came around, Hyunjin was very hands off. You didn’t give up though, seeing his studio and complimenting him endlessly on his talents. 

It took a few months for him to really warm up to you, but once he did, you couldn’t get rid of him. Honestly you wouldn’t have it any other way. He was very warm and loved to make paintings for you, especially loved studying and drawing your face. He loved the angles and the emotions your face conveys, so some days he’d just walk into whatever room you’re in and he’d start snapping photos. Then he’d disappear into his studio, then the next week he’d bring you the oil painting of your face. Every single one was so pretty and you told him that you aren’t that pretty and every time he’d say, “You aren’t pretty… You’re gorgeous and don’t you ever forget it, My Queen.” His nickname for you was “Queen”. There’s no one as beautiful and regal as a queen, which is why it fits you perfectly. 

The first time he called you that nickname you giggled and said, “Hyunjin, you’re the royalty… not me.” He just told you, “Sure Prince’s are royal and handsome. But there is no one as beautiful, noble, wise, and royal as a Queen on her throne. If that isn’t you I don’t know what is.” Him being his dramatic self, kneeled down and kissed you hand, making you blush and giggle.  

When he looks at you now he is enraged that Chan did something so abhorrent to the person that he considers to be the most beautiful person inside and out, to the Queen. When he sees you now, your eyes lost their spark, lost their brightness. Your gorgeous skin, pale, dull, lacking iron. Your body, weaker than he’s ever seen it be. Your laugh, half hearted. Your smile, his favorite feature, can’t even reach your eyes… All of this and more made him want to tear Chan apart. 

Saying and doing the things that he did and said about you stunned everyone. Especially since you love each and every member and would walk through fire for them. All of the members could see in their heads the analogy ‘stabbed in the back’, coming to life. Both of them took a knife and stabbed you, their sister, their Queen, their best friend. In their eyes, he stabbed all of them, ripping apart the family he spent years creating, gone. 

Just hearing what Chan said after he left, Felix got thrown into the memory of barely 9 hours ago, at the 3 Racha house:

Felix asked Chris to join him on the couch right after Minho and I.N. left the room to talk to Bin. Chris was still waiting outside the room and Felix called him into the living room, once more. As soon as Chris sat down Felix grilled him, “Why Chris? She would do anything for you. Walk through Hell and back, face any and every threat for you… And this is what you do? Why did you even ask her out if you knew Bin-” he got cut off.

“Don’t finish that sentence Felix.” Chan looked at him through lidded eyes, rubbing his face. 

Felix could still see the marks on him, the hickeys, the light scratches on his back. If he got close enough he could still smell her on him. It made Felix sick to his stomach. Felix got angry at that, “THEN FUCKING ANSWER ME CHRIS! WHAT WAS THE POINT? WHY DID YOU HURT HER LIKE THIS?!” 

“She was never supposed to know.” Chris said in a detached manner, “It was just harmless fun! I needed a release Felix, something you wouldn’t know about.” 

Felix’s face broke, throwing his hands up, “Oh really? That’s disgusting. YOU are disgusting. You needed a release? How about going to your gorgeous wife and making love to her? Or y’know, go to the gym, watch some anime… LITERALLY ANYTHING OTHER THAN CHEATING!”

Chris said, “I tried all of that, Felix. I don’t need to explain myself to you.”

Felix’s jaw dropped, “ You’re right, you don’t need to explain yourself to me. I don’t know how we didn’t see you before. This,” he motioned to Chris’ body, “Is the real you… and it’s vile. How dare you do that to her! How dare you make her feel inferior, degrade her in her own home, in her own bed.” 

Then Felix said something that he will never regret in his life, “You never deserved her. Bin should’ve been with her from DAY ONE! You are pathetic.” He glared at Chan, who got up to size up to Felix.  Felix got up and matched him, unphased as he said, “I hope she leaves you. As a matter of fact, I pray that she leaves you because she doesn’t deserve to wonder what her husband is doing behind her back. She deserves to be pampered. She deserves to be with someone who actually wants to spend time with her and love her. She deserves to be taken care of. Because all she has EVER done for us, is take care of us.”

He then got in Chris’ face as he said, “I hope to GOD that she leaves you for Changbin. That way she’ll know what real love is. And if anything happens to Y/N or my niece or nephew… God help you. God help you and your whore. You both ruined two lives today and I will NEVER let you forget it. I promise you that.” 

Chris didnt say anything as Felix growled with all of the base in his voice, “Now…Sit… the fuck… down.” 

It was only when Han changed the subject that Felix was ripped from the memory.

Han could sense where the conversation was going and he immediately changed the subject, he started to crack jokes and mess with the other members. After a bit you yawned and reached for Bin, “Binnie…” 

He looked at you, saw you yawn again, and he laid down with you, “ok come here.” He said as he gently cradled you. He petted your hair back as you wiggled yourself closer, finally sighing when you deemed Binnie close enough to let the heat seep into your bones.

Han looked and said, “Oh I get it. I am right here, perfect for cuddling and you pick him I get it.” he started smirking at you but leaned over to kiss your forehead on Bin’s chest. 

Despite the noise in the room, you were out in minutes. Hyunjin was the first to notice, who nudged Felix, who then set off a chain reaction until everyone was smirking at you and Bin cuddling. 

He wasn’t focused on them though, he was running his fingers through your hair, drawing random patterns on your back as he watched you sleep. It was only when he saw a faint flash that he looked up to see Hyunjin with his phone up. He looked at them and mouthed, “don’t make me laugh she just got to sleep.”

But no one was laughing. They always could tell the fondness he had for you. It was so obvious Minho would tell him to stop following you around like a puppy. It was their way of saying that they knew.

That whole thought made his face drop. In his head, he should’ve never let Chan within 100 feet of you. He went to Chan about the crush he had on you first, being one of his closest friends. He was asking for advice on how to get over his nerves and just ask you out.

  Chris has psyched him out, though, saying things like, "I don't think she's into you, man. She seems a bit more interested in me. But don't worry, I'll take care of her." And "I don't know man. I mean you can try but if she rejects you, you have to be prepared for that. I wouldn't if I were you though. You seem like the friend type for her. Not the boyfriend type." 

He was thinking about how he should've followed his own heart and gut, which are rarely on the same page. Both of you love working out, music, food, nutrition, the list goes on and on. One of his favorite memories with you is before anyone asked you out. 

You had invited him to the Han River. He didn't know why but it was a picnic you set up for him especially. He had gotten very stressed out during a meeting with the execs in the company he works for. They had told him to lose weight… yet again. He doesn't feel comfortable at a lower weight. He feels physically weaker, his mind not as sharp. 

You yourself had tried to explain to Chan what Bin was feeling. That’s largely because you have always struggled with feeling good at the weight you were at but everyone told you, you were just too big. When you had gone through similar diets you felt like a walking zombie. You couldn’t even think of going to the gym, because your brain just didn’t work with no fuel.

The societal pressure onto that only added to the chaos, and you couldn’t imagine how lonely it felt to be told by employers that you need to cut down, as well as go to the hectic schedules that Bin had to, and worry about making content, and trying to keep at least some of your life private. You couldn’t see him go through that alone. 

That was when you had the picnic. He had no idea that you knew about that meeting, but it was actually Felix that tipped you off to it. If there’s anyone in the world who would get what Bin was going through it was you. As always, you knew how to make Bin smile. You set up at his favorite spot, making healthy foods and also packing some of his favorite shakes. When he walked up to it, his face lit up, and so did yours. He ended up playing hooky that day, and spent the whole day with you. It’s one of his favorite memories. Now it's bittersweet.

He was mad at himself at those thoughts, Chris was so clearly into you so he used Bin’s insecurities against him… and it had worked. He thought about how all of this wouldn’t have happened and you and him would be happy together. That’s all he ever wanted for you. That was why he let you go in the first place. He wanted you to be happy.

After about a half an hour of hushed talking while Bin kept you relaxed, a set of footsteps walked down the hall. Just hearing them, Bin’s ears perked up. They had an authority to them, almost pompous in nature. Commanding… he knows those steps.

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